#sweat covered bangs wiped away from his face

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Thinking of Jason waking up in sweat and tears, clutching his blanket- his chest heaves as he forces himself to shuffling feet.

Then his mind returns, the panic filled daze fading as he stares at the lightbulb flashing on and off.

Standing in the hall of his apartment that smells faintly of sour mildew and a lightbulb that has never been fixed.

But Jasons twenty two, he's alone. His dads room, no longer just down the hall.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands. 

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice. 

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds. 

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers. 

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner. 

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening. 

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by. 

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level. 

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception. 

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence. 

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation. 

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt. 

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic. 

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence. 

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene. 

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right. 

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve. 

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.” 

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now. 

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.  

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal. 

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers. 

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run. 

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once. 

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice. 

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers. 

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide. 

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap.  “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art. 

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs. 

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.” 

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep. 

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on. 

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your  hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken. 

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust. 

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen. 

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him. 

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through. 

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench. 

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you. 

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans. 

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent  intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips. 

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest. 

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he? 

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.” 

TBC

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | John, You're Buying A House

AO3

Upon waking you knew something in your life had shifted. Sitting upright in bed and feeling a gush of fluid pool in your underwear answered the question of what had changed. Waddling awkwardly out of your room a dubious feeling settles low in your gut.

The bathroom door is shut.

At least two male voices rumble from further down the hall. Fuck. One of the guys had to be in the bathroom. Knocking you pray it will open.

“Busy,” comes Simon’s gruff reply.

Double fuck. Simon would be in there for a while. Digging your fingers into your body you decide how to deal with the growing problem that is now sticking your loose pajama bottoms to your legs. Johnny’s laugh and the sound of a kitchen chair scraping against the floor fling you into a decision. Reaching up your fingers find the long thin key to release the simple twist lock.

Simon doesn’t have time to yell at you before you are through the door and locking it behind you.

“The hell do you need?” He snaps at you from the toilet.

“I need you to cover up and let me get in the shower without asking questions,” you stare at the grain of the door as you strain your ears to listen for how he might be feeling about this.

A beat of silence longer than you can comfortably handle passes. You open your mouth to plead with him when Simon’s voice reaches you.

“Why are you bleeding?”

He doesn’t sound alarmed, only vaguely concerned.

“Wouldn’t you know it this is a pretty regular process for me?” The sarcastic reply slips out.

Fabric rustling behind you alerts you that he isn’t going to kick you out.

“Come on then, I can’t start the shower from here, but I can take your clothes when I am done and start a load of wash for you.”

Turning and seeing compassion on Simon’s face has your lip starting to quiver. He holds out a hand to you. Crossing the long bathroom, you take it gratefully.

“I’m really sorry,” you wipe a hand under your nose, “that I had to bust into your bathroom time.”

Simon lifts and drops one shoulder.

“Not like Johnny wouldn’t do the same if I didn’t lock the door.”

The truth of the statement startles a laugh out of you.

Squeezing your hand in his Simon uses the other to jerk the shower curtain open for you.

“Milady,” the seriousness in his tone causes you to burst into giggles.

Stepping in, you pull the curtain shut and quickly strip. Folding the bloody portions of your pants into themselves you set all of your clothes in neat bundle on the floor just beyond the shower. Starting up the water you focus on getting the water in the pipes to a self-indulgent level of heat. When you are clean and refreshed, and you can somewhat manage the day ahead, you turn off the flow. The silence in the room beyond the flimsy barrier taunts you.

Holding the curtain tight in one hand you shift it enough to find the room empty of Simon. Instead, a candle is burning on the counter and a stack of your softest folded clothes sits on top of the toilet seat. Drying off you get your period situation dealt with as best you can for the first day of your flow and get dressed.

The underwear and bra are absolutely yours but the sweats in the pile look suspiciously like Kyle’s and the shirt could be either Johns. You accept the offering of them claiming you, but also the subtle hints of them and their laundry soap soothed you.

Cramping didn’t hit you until you stood at the sink, trying to wash up your breakfast dishes. The dual stabbing at the base of your spine came as a surprise. Your finger curled over the edge of the sink as your vertebrae did their best to pull away from one another. Breathing got hard; short gasping sucks of air were all you could manage.

John materialized behind you. His hands roam down your back, he knows he hit the right spot when your hips jerk forward and bang against the cabinet. You let out a sharp whine.

“Touch or no?”

“Push,” you gasp out.

When his thumbs dig into your pain point you are granted the most exquisite type of relief. When it eventually subsides, and the pressure of John’s fingers begins to hurt again you shift to dislodge him. John pulls you into a hug before dropping a kiss on your forehead and sending you off to do something else.

“Go and rest, I will take care of these,” his beard tickles against your face.

Not one to miss out on not doing dishes, you squeeze John tight and leave the kitchen. The stirrings of your normal period cramps start. Spotting Johnny reclining against the arm of the couch you decide. Johnny is sketching away in his notebook. You really should look at getting him a real art book when the café starts turning a bit more profit and can cover all the back pay you are owed. Tugging lightly on one of his crossed ankles you get Johnny’s attention.

“Can I lay on you?” You try and look pitiful.

He would have said yes either way but it made you feel better about asking for help.

“Course,” he places his book face down and scoots down until his feet rest against the other armrest. “Come here.”

Collapsing on top of the hot-running Scot you settle down. Using him as a personal hot water bottle is the best idea you had all day. Johnny runs a hand down your back a few times before resting his sketchbook on your back as he continues to work. You wake to the feeling of your period overcoming your precautions.

Leaping off of a snoring Johnny you rush to the single bathroom in the flat and find it locked. Again.

“God dammit! John!” Your shout wakes Johnny up as he rushes up from the couch and John from your room where he must have been resting if the pillow demarcations on his cheek are any clue.

“What? What’s wrong?” John questions you.

“John, you’re buying a house.” Before he can ask stupid questions such as why, you point to the bathroom. “This is the second time I have to change my outfit because there is only one bathroom, and my period will wait for no man.”

The door opens, every pair of eyes in the hallways snapping to a now concerned Kyle who pulls out one earbud and tucks his phone into his pocket.

“What did I miss?”

Shoving past him into the bathroom you reply as you slam the door closed.

“John will explain.”

@the-loneyest 😘 @lilynotdilly

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[simp-ly-writes]

The Master

─────── · ·  For All Time: The Series (pt.2)

─ · · PAIRING: 10th Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader, 10th Doctor x Rose Tyler

─ · · SUMMARY: You are experiencing Heartbreak, a medical term for Time Lords and other long-living beings after a Soul Bond has been broken. So lost in your wallowing and left stranded in a sea of memories you become startled when a face from your past comes to the present.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, emotional angst, depictions of anxiety attacks, coarse language, eventual happy ending (but not yet), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 3,004 | PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: 🗣️ LORE!- in today's chapter

─────── · · 

You sat in your TARDIS somewhere on the edge of the universe, where you observed a supernova spreading its way across the abyss of space. A thousand coloured gases blurred and blended into a forbidden palette in which you feasted your eyes upon, temporarily distracting you from the dull ache still rumbling in your chest. 

The TARDIS hummed a sad, soft tune, rumbling gently at your feet as you paced up and down the halls, kicking at invisible stones before glaring at a speck on the wall. You were upset that you waited this long for him only to be paid back with what could be considered a slap to the face in the form of Rose Tyler. Younger, prettier, more charming… Sure, you considered her a lovely girl and it was silly of you to wait centuries for a man but the Doctor was no ordinary person, no, he was something extraordinary that made you feel more alive… and yet you felt dead as ever when a mere moments ago you could’ve seen him. 

A part of you wondered what would have happened if you stayed… if he would greet you friend or foe, with a hug or a kiss to the temple like he used to, but that was something you’d never know for the rest of your long existence. If he’s happy with her then I won’t come in between the two of them, you remind yourself with a heavy sigh, If he’s happier with her… 

You shouldn’t feel so bitter but how could you not? How could I not… you shake your head of these thoughts, trying to find your inner resolve once again as you make your way to the console room and check your flight data before tinkering and performing some general maintenance that soon turns into deep cleaning as you tunnel vision on the task, removing anything and everything that reminded you of the Doctor and placing the boxes into deep storage. 

You don’t know if it had been hours, days, or years once you stopped, hair pointing in all directions atop your head, brow covered in a line of sweat that you try to wipe off while catching your breath. You think back to the Doctor whilst leaning against a railing, how good he would look maintaining his TARDIS, smirking up at you with every tool you passed him, a single strand of hair dipping across his forehead that your fingers ached to brush away- stop it! You commanded your brain, hitting your palm against your forehead repeatedly. 

You cannot be some desperate ex, (name), you are not some desperate ex, you tell yourself like a mantra before heading to the showers and allowing the warm water to cover your skin as you hold yourself underneath the showerhead. Just because you bonded your souls together does not mean what you had was forever.

Lathering yourself in your favourite soap and moisturizing afterwards you take off to the library in a simple bathrobe and slippers in search of a story to distance yourself with but before you can even make it halfway, the Tardis suddenly rumbled before you heard a loud BANG! And you were falling against a wall clenching on a door frame to keep yourself somewhat upright. I just can’t catch a break now, can I? You thought to yourself, waiting an additional moment after the TARDIS stills again before standing straight and heading back towards the console room. 

THE DOOR, THE DOOR! The TARDIS screams in your head as you quicken your pace, turning another corner to find the door wide open, space and stars clearly in view before becoming overshadowed by a TARDIS and a… dress shoe? What? You blink and rub your eyes, thinking yourself to either be going mad or tired in your current state. A voice calls down from the stairs that you can’t recognize but it must have been serious to find and catch me way out here. 

“Is there a little lady in there?” you freeze, and they know my name atop of all that. You slowly peer up the steps, eyes trailing from a black leather shoe up to a matching black suit, white shirt and the smiling face of a man that you don’t recognize. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember who I am. You mustn’t insult me that much when welcoming me into your home,” their smile does not falter, only growing as you grow more concerned by their forwardness and by how they tower over you once descending the stairs, standing above you on the last step. 

You flinch at their sudden touch, their hand grips your jaw, caressing your cheek as you shiver and groan in pain, the aftermath of your soul-bond heartbreak still lingering in your system. You blink up at them, not wanting to seemingly offend the intruder anymore but silently demand for their name. 

“It's me, the Master,” they deadpan, dropping your face and shoving you aside, the contrast of emotions has your head spinning as you race to close the door before carrying on after them. 

“It cannot be… how’re you alive?” you gasp trying to solve the riddle in your head before suddenly remembering all those times you fell asleep on this very man’s shoulder while back at the Time Lord Academy or how he would always sweep you away to distant planets when you were in a mood. You remember how he sat at the front of your and the Doctors wedding, felt his stare throughout the entire night, and then… nothing well, nothing until now. 

You stare at him more closely, walking up with caution as you raise your hand, tracing over his shoulder before gesturing to him to lean down further, you bite your lip to hide the bittersweet remembrance of the mischief that never seemed to leave his eyes since you were both young. 

“I have my ways,” the Master laughs, nose scrunched at you in a teasing motion as you roll your eyes in reply, “of course, I should have known better than to ask.” 

“That you should, know better,” he replies, you sense that even in the humor-cladded tone there is a degree of underlying seriousness to his words that have you looking down at your feet, wincing slightly at your appearance once seeing you only had one slipper on and were in fact, still in just your bathrobe. 

“I heard you and the Doctor had a run-in, so-to-speak,” the Master continues talking as he taps his shoe near your feet, “don’t be embarrassed by your appearance, you still look as beautiful as the last time I saw you.”

You take a step back, once again confused by the duality of the Time Lord before you seemingly having two different conversations at once. “I don’t think I’m following… and how did you know about that?”

“What do you think my answers going to be?” the Master tuts, “we did just go over that material and I’ve seen you covered in mud during the ancient olympic games back in our 100s, or did you forget that too?” 

“You have your ways?” you scoff, trying to use attitude to cover your blush of the memory of your more… wild days, “and to think I missed you and this ego and attitude of yours.”

“You missed me?” the Master coos, “I missed you too oddly enough. You should be honoured I temporarily stopped all my scheming at the mention of your name.” 

“Consider me flattered then,” your tone flat yet eyes sparkling with humour that the Master does not miss instead lacing his arm around your own and leading you towards the library where you take seats across from one another. 

“Now you didn’t answer my earlier question, how did your meeting with the Doctor go?” the Master asks again, taking a long drink of the tea you prepared for yourself earlier. You watch as he downs the cup fully before pouring himself another, casting you a wink partway and humming at the taste, awaiting your answer while leaning back. 

“I ran away before I could meet him, I…” you pause, looking down at your hands, “...I thought I was the only one, that I was losing my mind still feeling him after all these regenerations since the Time Wars and yet,” you grit your teeth, “I- nevermind.” You reach across the table to fill your cup, grabbing a digestive along the way to dip in your tea. 

“And yet he moved on, right? Got with that Rose girl, killed a few thousand species in order to ‘save others’ and forgot all about you… know that I never did, not for a moment. Trust me, I looked everywhere for you for at least a century,” the Master stares at you, every word spoken earnestly, not a spec of mischief to be seen within his irises. 

Your lip quivers as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding slowly. You both sit there for a moment and you are thankful that the Master is giving you time to process his words before you whisper, “Thank you for missing me… I’ve missed you too, old friend. It’s nice knowing someone else is out there in the abyss.” Your cold skin warms slightly upon seeing the first truthful smile from him of the night, it’s small and toothless, eyes squinted gently as he breathes softly through his nose. 

“Space has been boring without you somewhere in it,” he murmurs, reaching over to refill your cup with what was left of the kettle. He sits forward, elbows resting on knees, head in hands as he simply observes you. “What?” you move your head from side to side watching as his gaze follows. 

He shrugs, keeping his position and lingering stare, “just reminiscing.”

“About what?” you press, taking a sip from your cup. 

“About all that was, about what could have been and what’s happened,” he lets out a long sigh, eyes cast aside and over your shoulder before continuing, “do you plan on ever talking to the Doctor?” 

You pause mid-sip, slowly setting your cup down in your lap, “not for awhile at least. I think I need to do some work on myself before I try to speak with him.” 

The Master nods, that small smile spreading yet eyes remaining distant, a cold draft suddenly surrounds the space making you shiver in your seat. “Good, you were always the wise one.”

You both sit in silence after his comment as you start picking at the fluffs on your bathrobe and counting the books across the shelves before the Master speaks up once more, “may I offer some parting words” You raise a brow, staying silent allowing him to continue, watching as he stands, stretching before adjusting his coat and tie- walking towards the door. 

“I’m not a good man, I never plan on being one, but I am an honest one in admitting this to you, that is what makes the Doctor and I different from one another. He will always promise to do better, he’ll fix one thing and ruin ten others…he will ruin others while claiming good intentions. But you already know that… don’t you?” 

The Master does not wait for your response as you hear the door closing behind himself, his footsteps trailing away and down before silence greets you like another old friend, sitting with you, sipping tea until it goes cold with time. 

You wanted nothing more than to stand, run after and defend the Doctor, the man that you knew to be outspoken in the face of injustice and serve kindness, but this was the same man that broke your heart- almost killing you in the process. You did not know who the Doctor was anymore, you shouldn’t claim to know after centuries of separation. For the person you knew yourself to be then, happiest in the presence of the Doctor, was long gone and it only took until now to realize that you had to be a new Lady without their Doctor. 

─────── · ·  

“But you failed to listen here, didn’t you?” Rose stated, poking at the Doctor's chest. In her own pain she was feeling she failed to realize just how deeply the Doctor was hurting as he shoved her away, clutching at his shirt while heaving, coughing and choking on air. 

Rose started back and into the console, he’s having the same reaction as her… why… how? Rose thought to herself. “Don’t touch me, please, it-” a sharp intake of air, his knuckles white as he grips a rail, “-it hurts. Feels like an ice-cold burn,” the Doctor explains his actions while hunched over himself. 

Rose can hear the unshed tears in his vocals, he appears raw- feral even in pain, twitching at the lightest brush of air. Rose opens and closes her mouth, at a loss for words in having never seen her Doctor this way. “Is there anything I can do to help? What’s going on Doctor, I’m scared for you,” Rose whispers, taking a half-step forwards. 

The Doctor does not respond. “I could get you some water? How about a snack? Blanket?” Rose rattles off a list of answers for him to nod to yet receives no answer again. She sees how tightly his jaw is clenched and swears to hear a tooth crack at the force. “Doctor?” she calls out again, taking another half-step forward before the Doctor quickly extends his arms forwards, keeping her at a distance. “Don’t. I’m fine. Just need a moment-”

“You said that ten minutes ago and you’re still like this! Just tell me what's wrong, let me help you, please!” Rose begs, her own eyes starting to burn. 

“I’m going through a heartbreak,” the Doctor whispers before choking back a sob that lets way to the floodgates from speaking the words into a reality he thought he’d never have to face. 

“I’ve gone through many of those, I know they hurt but pain is only temporary, I’m sure that-” Rose starts trying to console the Time Lord, crouching down further to make herself appear even smaller and sitting on the floor, back against a panel of the console before getting cut off, “no, this is not what you humans have, it's a medical condition, a state for us when we,” the Doctor hesitates to continue, he does not want to admit the truth, “...when we break a Soul Bond. Potentially deadly but mine was already weak- hurts like hell nevertheless.” 

“A Soul Bond?” Rose tests the term on her tongue, “what's that?” 

The Doctor manages to chuckle at her genuine curiosity breaking through the tension of this moment. He opens his eyes, blinking quickly to readjust to the lighting as the wave of pain has lessened. “For us Time Lords and other long-living beings it's like a more official marriage.” 

“Oh, so… is there like some spell you recite or…?” Rose presses, catching the Doctor's eye as a weak smile spreads across his face. “Not entirely but you can say vows during it… It's a rather…” Rose blinks, eyes in disbelief at the fiery blush that starts appearing on the Doctor's ears before trailing down his neck, “...intimate ceremony where you bond your essences together.” The Doctor coughs before loosening his tie. 

“Oh…” Rose starts to blush as well, lips pushed inwards and eyebrows raised. “Yeah,” the Doctor murmurs before sniffling. “So you and Lady…” Rose trails off hoping that the Doctor would pick up and clarify her words. 

The Doctor stares at Rose, holding her stare for a moment, “yes, she was my partner for over 50 years before we committed to the bond. Before that we grew up together and attended the same Time Lord Academy. She focused her studies on other-planetary relations and texts throughout time while I studied stellar engineering and general history.”

Rose laughs, “general history? For an alien I thought your subjects would be more, well, alien, you know?” The Doctor joins her laughter while also taking a seat on the TARDIS’s metal floors within the console room. 

“I’ll have you know that history is something all should learn no matter species or age, it's valuable to any and all,” The Doctor explains while pointing a finger forwards, wiggling it around in Rose’s face. Rose smiles widely while shaking her head at his actions, “but 50 years… wow.”

“That was just before we completed our bond, before the Time Wars sparked again we were together for almost one hundred years,” The Doctor's smile slowly slides off his face again, fingers tapping against the metal plates of the floor. 

Rose takes a large gulp, she would never live long enough to ever experience something like that and in some way, it made her feel inferior to you even when she was the one currently sitting in front of the Doctor just within reach.

“Soul Bonds are meant to be a for-life thing, it's a reason why not many in my kind completed theirs. You give something a piece of your soul, never to return but trust in the other to keep it safe.”

“So you’re now missing a part of your existence… forever?” Rose asks. 

The Doctor nods, head hung low, “forever and then some if we don’t reform the bond.” 

“So if your bond was still fresh or strong, what would happen then?” Rose bites her lip, knowing that she shouldn’t have asked such a question but her interest in the subject matter grows with each silver of information the Doctor feeds her. 

“I’d be dead,” the Doctor’s tone cold, “it’d be like I never existed in the first place.” He suddenly stands before flicking a switch and inputting a time and place, “How about a visit to your mum? I’m sure she’s missing you.” Rose looks up at the Doctor, watching as he focuses on his calculations, hands working subconsciously and at a rapid pace across the work surface. 

─────── · · 

PART T ONE | PART THREE | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: apologies for the lore dump but its what had to be done!

─ · · FOR ALL TIME TAGLIST: @posionapple24 @azriel64290 @smallerontheoutside @soniiyi @spirit-of-the-hollow @f0x33

[the-universal-sun]

If it's okay: Present day Ford crying his heart out? 👉👈

He went through so much, he deserves to be small and taken care of

Of course it’s okay! And I agree, Ford needs to be cuddles and coddled after all he’s been through!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ford startles as a loud bang echoed out from outside the shack; flinching and covering his ears, dropping his Legos and Dr. Mittens. He pants, his chest feeling tight. ‘It can’t be’ he thinks to himself ‘I’m safe here. This is home, no one from those other dimensions can get here. Get me. Get my family.’ Despite these thoughts, his lips wobble and his eye sting with tears, what if someone came to hurt him? He can’t stop the cries that come from his mouth, his adult brain knows it’s probably just the trashcan lid falling, but he can’t think with his adult brain now. He’s feeling smaller now, his thoughts are smaller now. Logic and reasoning don’t always apply to his Big and Scary Thoughts.

“Ford, Buddy? You alright I heard-Ford! What happened!” Stan called out, his walk into the living room turning into a sprint when he sees Ford crying. “C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, huh? What hurts!?” Stan tries to calm his panicked voice, hovering frantically over Ford.

“Th-the-hic-the noise o-outside. C-coming to get me!” Ford wailed, turning and burying his head into Stan’s shoulder. One hand grabbing Dr. Mittens from the ground, the other going to pull his hair. His hand gets intercepted before it can do that, Stan pulling it away and holding it in one of his with a soft “please don’t” being uttered with the movement.

“Who’s coming to get you, Bud? Hmm? The noise was just Fidds’ raccoon wife getting into the trash can again, nothing more.” Stan doesn’t get it! Ford’s made so many enemies, someone is bound to come find him! He yanks on Stan’s hand in lieu on answering, finding it hard to find the right words to explain. Why can’t he just understand!

“Hey, we don’t yank or pull on limbs, Stanford. Come on, let’s dry those tears and calm down just a little okay? And then maybe you can explain what’s got you so scared.” Stan wraps an arm around Ford’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, repetitively patting Ford’s arm in an effort to help regulate his breathing.

He breathes in and out with Stan’s tapping, his panting slowing down but the tears still coming fast and hot down his face. He swallows the lump in his throat, clutching Dr. Mittens to his chest, resisting to urge to nibble his ear. “The-the bang noise. ‘Scared me an’ I thought it-it was someone from that time coming to hurt me again an’, an’,” he buries his head in his knees for a moment, Stan letting his, before he takes a big breathe and finishes his sentence, “An’ I got Big Thoughts, Scary ones that wouldn’t go away.” He finishes lamely, closing his eyes as his brother wipes his tears with his top. His nose scrunches up at the smell at Stan’s sweat.

“Oh, those capital ‘Big’ and ‘Scary’ thoughts, it must’ve been really bad, huh, Sixer. But don’t worry, we’ve checked just today, no inter dimensional anomalies or presences, our radar would’ve gone off if there were.” Oh. Ford didn’t think of that. He sniffles, huddling in closer to Stan, basically on his lap, resting his head into the side of his neck. This is why he needs Stan, he’s always there to chase away his Scarey Thoughts, and if chasing doesn’t work, punch them away. That’s why Stan’s his Buddy. The thought of Stan punching his literal thoughts away brings a giggle to Ford’s throat. And more spill out as Stan ruffles his hair.

“Oh? What’s so funny now, you laughin’ at this old man?” Stan points to himself.

“No-o-o-o!” Ford giggles, his hair being ruffled makes him feeling ticklish all over, “Buddy! ‘M not!” He laughs loudly as Stan falls over dramatically, Ford clutched in his arms. They lay there laughing for a good few minutes, Eventually settling down as Ford clings to Stan’s front, not wanting him to leave him.

“Stay, Buddy?” He asks Stan, using his best puppy dog eyes, a weakness of his brothers, but one he’s willing to exploit. And it works, Stan holds him tighter and closer, nuzzling his head and tickling it a little with his sigh.

“Of course, Sixer. As long as you want. We can even nap here-“ Ford cuts him off with an indignant “No” because he has his designated nap spot and it’s not on the living room carpet, it’s his little fort in his and Stan’s room. “Okay, no naps in here then, guess I’ll have to move my brittle old bones alllll the way to our room, huh?” Ford nods his head, glad Stanley got it. But he didn’t make any moves, content to just lay here, not quite all the way calm yet. Besides, he doesn’t have nap time for another hour and-he calculates in his head-seventeen minutes, plenty of time to lay in Stan’s arms on the living room floor.

“Alright, alright. I’ll move you when it’s nap time, just stay here in my arms until then, I need some Ford Floor Time.” Stan squeezes him tighter, Ford melting into the pressure. Well, he who was he to argue with Stan needing Ford Time? Signing, he basks softly in the calming presence of his brother for the next hour-and-now-16 minutes.

[avonne-writes]

oh my god now that the show and the war is over I NEED domestic buck and bucky fics bonus points if buck is sick and they cuddle all day😅😅

I can’t wait to write this AU, but I have to finish Reverie first, so I hope you’d still like to read to it after 🩷 But until then, here's a snippet I've just written:

It's cold. So cold, that Gale thinks he’s back in Germany for a few seconds, locked in the filthy hopelessness of the stalag, with no end in sight. He’s swimming in sweat but his body trembles nevertheless. Icy pain rolls down his neck in waves. He can’t get any air through his nose so he tries to sleep with his mouth open, but that just makes his throat ache that much more. He wishes he could stop breathing long enough to fall asleep, but no such luck. The duvet doesn’t wrap around him tight enough. Curled up miserably on his side of the bed, he can’t do anything but convalesce. Even his bones hurt.

The front door opens downstairs, but it's too early for John to be home. Robbers? But there’s no sound of clinking china or cabinets being opened, only the jiggle of keys and then familiar, heavy footsteps up the creaking stairs. The bedroom door opens softly, then the world's most annoying voice whispers into the stale air of the room.

"Is our pretty little patient still with us?" When Gale ignores him, Bucky's socked feet thread across the carpet to the bed. His fingers drum on the wooden footboard. If Gale had the strength, he'd kick him. "Or did he become a butterfly?"

"What the goddamn hell are you talking about?" Gale gripes, his voice hoarse as though he was dying. He doesn’t open his eyes. He has no interest in seeing Bucky's mug when he’s getting on Gale's nerves like that.

"Well, you look like a giant caterpillar all cocooned up."

Gale doesn’t deign that worthy of a reply. He pulls the duvet the rest of the way over his head. There’s nothing he wants to see in the room anyway. He just wants to be left alone. Glass thuds on the bedside table.

"Got you some cold syrup."

The cover is pulled back from Gale's face and a pleasantly cool, dry palm presses to his forehead. Bucky sighs. When he speaks again, the joking tone drops from his voice. "That’s gotta be a fever."

He wipes the sweat from Gale's temple with his hand, then the bed dips by Gale's side. He hears clinking and banging, then a large palm slides under his head and pulls to prop it up. He cracks his eyes open to slits only to see Bucky bent over him with a spoonful of vile medicine in his free hand. Gale tries to push it away.

"Don't be a child, Buck, open up."

"Says the one yapping about caterpillars." Gale mumbles, so slow that he thinks Bucky won't let him finish the sentence, but he does. He looks amused, despite the tinges of worry around his eyes.

"Someone ought'a have a sense of humor."

"Wouldn’t bet on us." Gale squints at Bucky again, satisfied to see the flash of his grin.

But still, Bucky doesn’t let up - he holds the spoon in front of Gale's mouth until Gale sighs and swallows the syrup in it. "There."

Gale sinks back into the cushions and turns away from him, rolling closer to Bucky's side of the bed. It’s tempting to steal his pillow but with the clogged nose, Gale wouldn’t be able to smell him anyway. A hand rests on his shoulder, Bucky's thumb stroking.

"Care for some company?" Bucky asks. When Gale remains silent again, he continues filling the quiet. "I phoned my boss, told him I was sick."

"What, we share a body now?" Gale grumbles. "What if you do get sick?"

"Then I didn't lie, did I? If I get sick, I'd have caught it anyway, what with this narrow thing you picked." He pats the bed.

"You gave me the wrong measurements."

"Just admit that you wanna sleep in my arms."

"Did you get something for your head?"

Bucky laughs to himself in low chuckles, then Gale hears the rustle of clothes, the clink of a belt. The duvet pulls away from his back, leaving him freezing where the sweat-soaked pyjama shirt sticks to his skin. But he doesn’t have to suffer for long. The bed dips further, then a warm, naked chest presses to his back. Bucky tucks in the covers around them, them slips his arms around Gale to hold him close. It feels like heaven.

Gale sniffles. "I'm disgusting."

Bucky sighs as though he’s happy. He kisses Gale's overheated neck. "Course you are, you little caterpillar."

Gale grits his teeth. "Go away."

"No can do." He holds Gale tighter to his chest, and the shivers subside. "I'm sick, after all."

Gale decides not to say anything else. He remains irritated for two more minutes, then Bucky's warmth starts seeping into him through his clothes. He breathes out and falls asleep.

[chuuyascumsock]

I’m Here // Minors DNI

Summary: Chuuya doesn’t remember his dreams, but he feels it. [Based off the canon fact that Chuuya doesn’t dream/doesn’t remember his dreams.]

Tags: Nakahara Chuuya/ GN Reader (referred to as Doll once but gender isn’t specific), SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Not Much Warning, But Chuuya Cries, Also Mentions Chuuya’s Thoughts Of Not Feeling Human So Dehumanizing Feelings Of Oneself.

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader Drabble

Chuuya doesn’t dream, or at least he doesn’t remember them.

And yet there’s an overwhelming feeling of grief stirring inside of him when he awakes abruptly, a sheen of sweat drenching his face and around his neck. Soft pants fall from his lips as he sits upright, one of his calloused hands flying up to smooth over the left side of his chest where a dull ache throbs within. He doesn’t know why this happens, but it does. He knows that even if he doesn’t remember his dreams, he subconsciously knows what they’re about. Feels what they’re about. His past— the people he’s lost— the things he’s had to do to survive.

Chuuya doesn’t cry.

But he does tonight, melancholy overtaking everything else in him. His tears are silent and scarce, the feeling unusual and almost surreal to him. When did he become so weak?

“Chuuya?” Your voice is groggy and slurred from sleep as you shift beneath the covers to slowly move to sit up.

Chuuya’s breathing hitches, thankful that the room is pitch black. He can barely make out your figure next to him, but see that you’re moving to lean closer to him. Chuuya clears his throat and responds quietly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you, Doll… Go back to sleep.”

Your hand moves to feel out next to you to find him until it lands splayed out on his back, “Why are you up? What’s wrong?” You ask, worry lacing your tone.

“Nothing, m’fine…” He sighs out, making a move to wipe his damp face with his hands. His hands stop though when he feels your warm hands cup his face and wipe away his tears with your thumbs.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” You murmur, shuffling to switch positions, though slightly difficult due to your limited vision. You face Chuuya now, hands moving from his face to smooth down his wild bed hair from tossing and turning. “Why are you upset?” You’re just the slightest bit confused having known about Chuuya’s inability to dream— or that he doesn’t remember them, so it couldn’t be that. Could it?

“I…” Chuuya sniffles, but it’s barely discernible. “I had a bad dream,” He pauses before letting out a shaky exhale, “I feel it.”

You almost frown, but it curls into a gentle smile, though you know Chuuya can’t see it in the dark. “You feel it?” It’s an innocent question, much like your touch as you tuck some of his damp bangs behind his ear. You feel him nod, leaning into your touch for comfort— seeking you out in a moment of vulnerability. You don’t elaborate on your thoughts about the three simple words he spoke— that you think he’s more human than any other being you’ve met— that you wish he’d look at himself through your eyes and see how living he was beneath his flesh and bones. But you push it to the back of your mind for a later conversation.

“It aches,” Chuuya’s voice strains, wishing the throbbing would disappear from his chest.

“I know,” You whisper. Your hands find themselves slipping around his waist to hold him from your position next to him, “But I’m here.” You reassure, head resting into the crook of his neck.

He turns his head to place a gentle kiss to your head, arm looping around your back to caress along your spine soothingly, “You are.”

Chuuya survived all his life, but with you, he felt like he was living.

[hoonvrs]

NOONA — 48: the ‘picnic’ date (+written 0.4k)

the last thing you expected to see when you opened your door was a soaked sunghoon holding a basket. 

before you could even get a word out he spoke, “it started raining half way here, now everything’s ruined.”

“quick come inside!” you leaned out for his arm, pulling him forwards inside the safety of your house away from the droplets, “can’t have you get sick on our first proper date.”

his dejection was evident in his posture, bangs covering half his face with his body slightly slouched. your surprised the basket is even still in his hands with how loosely he’s holding on to it.

you could see his t-shirt uncomfortably clinging onto his skin and his shorts starting to look ombre from the bottom being wet.

“doesn’t matter anyways, its all ruined.”

“look at me,” you cupped his face, forcing him to make eye contact, “nothings ruined okay.”

he huffed, looking everywhere else but at you, “yes it is. the rain is heavy and the park will be wet and i’m wet and-”

his words got caught in his throat, starting to sniffle as tears that lined his eyes start to fall as he tries to finish his sentence. arms coming up to wipe his tears with his sleeves whilst you stood there shocked.

you already knew sunghoon was a little sensitive and cried a lot, you just didn’t expect it now. 

“baby,” you sighed, pulling him into a hug, nuzzling into your neck letting his sobs freely spill out, “fuck the park, we can still have our picnic right here. as long as you’re with me nothing is ruined.”

“i didn’t know you could be sentimental.”

“shut up,” you slapped his shoulder, making him laugh, still trying to wipe his face, “come on, ill go steal some of won’s clothes for you.”

+

what was once your living room was now a makeshift ‘park’. the couch was pushed to one side with the coffee table on another to make as much space in the middle as possible, going as far as laying down a checkered blanket beneath all the food to really tie it all together.

soon enough, sunghoon came in wearing a white t-shirt and sweats that were a little short on the ankle but he’ll make do, “don’t you look cute.”

“why is jungwon so short, my ankle feels naked,” he slowly sat down beside you as you continued to set up taking pictures ever few seconds.

“genetics, too bad. i did a good job right? were basically in the park right now.”

you looked at sunghoon who was still silent, seeing him on the verge of tears again, “hey, no crying. you’ve done enough for both of you.”

“i just feel bad. i had everything planned and i checked the weather app i swear i-”

you leaned forward, silencing him with your lips on his. no one double blame you, he just looked so cute with his eyes a little puffy and cheeks flushed.

“you talk too much.”

previous | m.list | next

S. NOTES: THEY HAVE KISSEEDKEKWKW

SYNOPSIS: park sunghoon experienced love at first sight when he first laid eyes on his friends older sister. a series of sunghoon desperately trying to do anything in his power to get the girl and yang jungwon cockblocking him for funsies.

TAGLIST (OPEN) @calijimenez @invusblog @astrae4 @lalalalawon @sserafimez @sfthyuka @miercerise @sasfransisco @annoyingbitch83 @pshchives @dazed-hee @sd211 @makiswrld @lovelypitasworld @kyuupidwrites @jangw2nyo @beansworldsstuff @shinrjj @mariji @shinsou-rii @curly-fr13s @homelycat @seungcheolswife @ilovewonyo @tinyegg @whippedforbeomgyu @adajoemaya @rikisly @sunoo-lvxr @strvlveera @myjaeyunn @meiiiwa @dazedgye @dimplewonie @sxftiell @plasmaticoo @iirene304 @captain-satan @pkjay @j-wyoung @diestheticu @chaeey @rodygr @enhy4me2 @officiallyjaehyuns @liliansun @the-poetic-side-of-me @jjangsims @dudufodd @heeswif3y @yawnzshit @4imhry @stinkoscope (bold couldn’t be tagged)

[billys-pretty-babe]

Last Kiss

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary: A freak accident took you away from your boyfriend, and he doesn't know what to do with himself, he's never faced a loss like this in his life.

Warning: Reader death (car accident), lots of suicide ideation (overdose, driving a car into a lake), suicide notes, swearing, Billy and reader are still in high school (entering their senior year), Billy says lots of hurtful stuff to his family (due to grief), vomit, substance abuse (drugs and alcohol), suicide (overdose), no happy ending

Word count: 3,151

A/N : Grab your tissues, this made me cry until I dry heaved. Loosely inspired by Pearl Jam's cover of Last Kiss (X) These are extremely heavy triggers please proceed with caution.

August 12, 1985

Billy laid in his room, cigarette between his lips, exhaling the smoke before doing the same thing. School was starting in three days, he was finally a senior and as soon as he would graduate in May 1986, he'd leave Hawkins with you, going back to California. He was on babysitting duty once again, Neil and Susan were who knows where, and Max was in her room with her weird friend, as he heard them giggling.

Music blared in his bedroom; he didn't even realize anyone was at the door until Max's fist banged on his door. He rolled his eyes, fixing the black shorts on his hips. He got up, putting the cigarette in an old beer can, shaking it a little before putting it in his trash can. He opened the door, "Need money for pizza?" Max shook her head, she looked odd, he noted the way her eyes were teary, Jane in the hallway, looking at Max.

"Chief of police is here, he needs to talk to you." His mind began racing. He was trying to figure out where to hide his ounce of weed. "Tell him I'm not here." Max shook her head, "You really need to talk to him." Billy sighed and nodded, leaving his room, shutting the door behind him. Max went to her bedroom, Jane following right behind her. Billy went to the front door; Jim Hopper was sitting on the railing of Billy's porch. Billy shut the front door and Jim looked up, hit hat off of his head.

"What'd I do?" Hopper shook his head and Billy raised a brow, sitting on the steps of the house and Jim joined him. "My dad and Susan?" Jim shook his head once more, clearing his throat. He reached into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and he pulled a small clear bag out of it, handing it to Billy.

A bloody picture of you and Billy was in the bag, he looked at it, his stomach churning. He put it down, looking at the grass, trying to contain what he had eaten that day. "I don't know how you guys know each other, but that was in her car. It was a freak accident; a truck driver was falling asleep and didn't see her car." Billy grew increasingly nauseated, Jim putting the image in his head. He began to sweat, pushing his hair back.

"She's not okay, is she," he asked, choking on his words and the bile building up. Jim shook his head, "She passed a few hours ago, her parents didn't want anyone there." Billy leaned over the railing, throwing up in Susan's flowers and Jim put his hand on Billy's naked back, patting gently.

Billy spit a few times, trying to get the taste out of his mouth and he pushed his hair back again, wiping his mouth on his hand, wiping the liquid on the wooden railing. "Is your dad here?" Billy shook his head, "No, I don't know where he's at." Jim nodded. "When's her funeral?" Jim looked at Billy, "I'll come by when I find out." Billy nodded, looking at the picture again.

They were pictures from the Funfair from a photobooth, he remembers exactly how the night went. "Her mom said you were around a lot, even met them." Billy nodded, those were the first and would be the last set of parents he ever met. "Yeah, she was my girlfriend, was gonna be a year in December." Jim nodded and a static voice came through his radio, someone needing him at the station. "Take care of yourself, Billy. If you need anything, you know where to find me or ask my kid in there for our address.

Billy nodded, quietly thanking Jim and he got up, putting his hat back on his head and patted Billy's shoulder and walked to his car. Billy watched Jim leave, looking up at the sky, doing his best to contain his tears. He got up, going back into the house, Max and Jane on the couch. He handed Max money, "For your dinner," he said before going to his bedroom, slamming the door shut and he locked it.

He carefully took the strip of pictures out of the baggy, putting it on his bedside table that held a picture frame of the two of them at prom. He looked through his room, finding the black box that held a locket, his name engraved into the pretty heart locket, your guys' first picture in it. He snapped it shut, hoping you'd have an open casket service so he could put it with you.

He laid back down, letting his mind run rampant with memories of the two of you. Hours must have passed as he saw Neil's truck headlights pull into the driveway. He hoped for his sake that Max had ordered dinner and had cleaned up afterwards. He heard Neil's heavy footsteps go through the house and then he heard Max's door open as he heard her cry, most likely in search of her mother.

He heard a soft knock on his door before he heard Susan's voice, "Billy, I'm so sorry." He heard her soft footsteps leave his door and his brain finally came to terms that you were gone. He curled up, stuffing his face into his pillow as he cried, his body shaking with his cries as he struggled for air, gasping through his hiccups and sniffles.

Almost two weeks after he found out about your death, the funeral was held, Max joined him along with Susan, Neil out of town for his job. Your mom hugged him, rubbing his back and your dad hugged him, something he had never done before that day. It was an open casket and as everyone left the room, preparing to go to the cemetery, he walked to the front of room. He stood above your body, more tears falling, and he held the locket in his hand.

He felt someone's presence, someone was behind him, probably Max or Susan waiting for him since he drove them to the service. He unclipped the locket and put it around your wrist, clipping it back together. He looked down at the silver ring on his finger, something his mom gave him. At this moment, he didn't care, his mom never left a hole in his heart like this, he'd forget about his mom with time, but he'd never forget you and the mark you left on his heart.

He slid the silver ring off of his finger, holding your cold left hand as he slid it onto your ring finger, where the diamond ring he would've bought you, would sit. He looked at you, you didn't look any different than you usually did. He grabbed one of the chairs, moving it closer to your casket and he sat down.

"What am I supposed to do now," he asked, "I haven't gone to school, I think I'm going to drop out. I haven't left my house either until today, because I needed to say goodbye to you. I keep taking it out on Max and everyone else, I've never been this angry before, I think I'll always be like this. I know if you were still here, you'd tell me that you would want me to move on, but I can never do that, no one is going to treat me like you did."

He gulped, trying not to choke on his tears, "I decided to stay here so I can be close to you, I'm gonna come see you every day, just like I did when we were dating." He wiped his face with the back of his hand, "I love you, and I'm gonna love you forever, because you're doing the same for me." He moved the chair back, letting his fingers touch yours, trying not to react to the coldness of your body.

He turned around to leave the room, your mom standing in the doorway of the vast viewing room. "We have something for you." He nodded, following her out of the room, and out of the building, to the car where your dad was standing at the trunk. Billy walked over, wiping his face, his eyes burning from crying so much. Your dad opened the trunk, two boxes in it. "We kept what we wanted to, this is everything that has you two in it, your clothes that she took from you, and other stuff we thought that you would like to have." He nodded, thanking your dad and your mom hugged him again.

"You're still family and welcome to our house whenever, Billy." He nodded and thanked her, and your dad helped Billy take one of the boxes to the Camaro and Billy opened the trunk as your dad put the box into the trunk and Billy shut it, placing the other box in the backseat beside Max. Her hand went to reach out, "No, that's not for you. Keep your damn hands to yourself." He moved the driver's seat back to its regular position as he started the car.

He looked in the mirror, sighing as he saw Max looking out of the window, "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I shouldn't have snapped at you." She shrugged, "It's fine, I get it. That's her stuff." He nodded and he followed the black hearse to the cemetery. They all arrived, and he fixed his black dress shirt, throwing a blazer on and Max and Susan got out of the car. Billy met up with your dad, your brother that was a few years older than you, and other family members that he never got to meet.

Billy didn't want to be a Pallbearer, but your dad had asked him, and he couldn't say no to him. The six of them talked as the funeral director opened the back of the hearse. "Okay, so Billy and I will be in the middle since we're going by height." Everyone nodded at what your dad said.

Your dad introduced Billy to your uncle, grandfather and cousin and he shook their hands. Your grandfather and uncle grabbed the back of the casket as Billy and your father grabbed the handles on the middle and your brother and cousin grabbed the front handles. Your casket moved to everyone's shoulders, their other hands grabbing onto the handles as they all began walking to your grave site.

Susan held Max's shoulders as Max wiped under her eyes. They all put your casket on the contraption and took their seats, Billy sitting with your parents, Max and Susan on the other side of your mom. The funeral director began speaking before your dad got up and gave a speech. Your mom gave a speech as well, along with your brother and Billy stood up as your brother left the podium, your brother putting his hand out and Billy clapped his hand to his, leaning in and their shoulders touched, and your brother sat back down.

Billy grabbed the crinkled, tear-stained notebook paper out of the pocket of his blazer. He pushed his hair back, clearing his throat. "I'm Billy, I'm," he cut himself off, "was her boyfriend." He couldn't bring himself to say your name. "I had a whole speech prepared, but nothing I say will ever amount to how much I truly love her, how she made me feel during tough moments. We met on my first day at Hawkins High, I asked her to be my girlfriend in December and I met her family in January. I had never had a girlfriend before her, she made me feel like everything was okay during family problems, like nothing could hurt me. She was always so happy to see me, there was never a dull moment with her. She was the first person to tell me that they loved me and actually mean it. We did everything together; we were glued at the hip. We would have graduated together in May 1986 and then we were going to move to California and start our new life there, get married and have kids later on in life."

He wiped his face with his index finger, looking at your casket. "The Funfair was one of our last dates, she hated heights, but I was somehow able to convince her to go on the Ferris Wheel with me. She freaked out the first two minutes were on it." Your brother laughed with your dad and Billy chuckled at the memory, "We used to go on late night drives to the diner on the outskirts of town, we'd go to the lake just to go sit on the dock and look at the stars." He looked at your casket one more time, this last sentence for you and you only, "I love you more than I can ever say, I just wish I got to tell you one more time." He cleared his throat, a single tear slipping from his right eye, onto his paper.

He thanked the crowd and sat back down at his seat and your dad put his hand on Billy's shoulder. Everyone watched your casket get lowered into the dirt before someone began covering it with dirt, your headstone showing to everyone the more the dirt pile shrunk. People began leaving, your brother and Billy talking behind a tree as they smoked cigarettes. "You're still my brother, even though she's not here anymore. You need anything at all, you know where to find me." Billy nodded, thanking him.

"Is it hard for you?" Your brother nodded, "Very, I moved out because I couldn't sleep next to her room anymore knowing that she wasn't in there." Billy nodded. "How's school?" Billy hummed, "I don't go, haven't left my house since Jim Hopper came to my house to tell me that she passed." Your brother hummed, nodding in understanding. They finished the conversation and Billy saw Max and Susan at the car, ready to leave. He sighed, not ready. "I can take them back to your house, I know where it's at. Cherry Lane, right?" Billy nodded, thanking him and your brother walked to the girls, and they got into his car.

Soon, Billy was the last one left, and he was to your headstone, sitting right beside it, the dirt still too soft on top of your casket. He took a deep breath, "This is fucked up, I was supposed to go first from natural causes." He put his hand on top of the headstone, rubbing a ridge just like how he used to rub your skin. "I wonder how much these plots are, might as well put my down payment for the one right next to you," he chuckled before sighing.

Many weeks passed and not a day went by where he wasn't high or drunk. He was able to get ketamine, weed, and some type of pills. He was hoping that something would be laced with something that would kill him. He was mean now, to everyone he knew. Max did her best to breakthrough to him, but she ticked him off weeks ago when she said she understood the feeling and he freaked out, leaving his house and ending right back at your burial sight. She didn't understand, no one in his family knew how he felt.

He had gone through loss before, his mom leaving, his grandparents passing away, but nothing fucked him up like your death did. Now, he sat in his bed, weed in his system as he wrote notes, sealing them in envelopes as he wrote names on the front of the envelopes. He wrote one for his entire family, your brother and parents, and one for you. He had dreamt about his death, sometimes when he drove by Lover's Lake, he wondered if he'd be able to crash his car into the water, but determined he was too good of a swimmer to go through with it.

He knew that his drug supplier wouldn't give him anything laced, so it was in his hands. He finished his notes, coming to terms that he wanted to die. He left his bed, putting clothes on and making sure he had his wallet, making sure his driver's license was in it. He made his bed one last time, quietly making his way to Neil's bedroom as he found the high strength pain meds from a past surgery, he hoped they would still work.

He walked back down the hallway, shutting his bedroom door, walking past Max's bedroom, sliding the envelope under her door, leaving Neil and Susan's envelopes on the coffee table in the living room. He grabbed the keys to his Camaro, driving to your parent's house, putting their envelopes in the mailbox before he made his way to your brother's apartment complex, talking to the person at the front desk as they slid it into his mailbox.

Billy made his way back to his car, making his last stop at your grave, wedging your envelope between the vase and the headstone. He rubbed the top of the headstone before going back to his car. He looked at the plot right next to you, hoping that Neil would respect his last wish to be buried right next to you.

Billy made his way to Lover's Lake, the last place the two of you spent time at. He looked at the pill bottle, popping the top and started off with four pills, swallowing them with water from a bottle that had stayed in his car for days. He took more, and more until the bottle was empty.

1 AM

Max walked into her bedroom, seeing the white envelope on her floor and she picked it up before she heard the front door open, hearing Neil speak to someone before the door shut and she heard Neil scream like he was in pain. She tore her envelope open, and her eyes welled up at the opening words.

"I'm sorry for everything I put you through."

She felt sick to her stomach, clutching it as she read the letter as she heard her own mother cry, Neil's cries were the loudest. Someone knocked on her door before it opened, Susan standing in the doorway before she walked into the room and wrapped her daughter into a tight hug. Max sobbed into Susan's neck and Susan tightened her hold on Max's body, swaying them. "He was in pain, baby, he felt like he had no other option." Max cried harder, wishing she had tried harder to help him.

That night, two families were broken, your family dealing with two losses and Billy's family having to come to terms with his death, Max taking it the absolute hardest, because maybe just maybe, they could have been best friends and do what normal siblings do.

[zombii-writess]

Do you take requests?? Cove x Mc/reader where cove stays outside to long and gets heat stroke and mc takes care of him? I thought it could be a cute fic

Yes I do !!

︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻

𝙷𝚘𝚝 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚊𝚢

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Being on your feet and exposed to the sun all day with rising temperatures seem to be a recipe for disaster.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: horrible description of a heat stroke, vomiting, you can decide if you are already in a relationship with Cove or not.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cove Holden x F! Reader

𝐀/𝐍: never had a heat stroke before but my brother did a few years ago when he joined a band camp during high school, so I'm putting in a few details from what he's told me. xP

︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼︼

Gritting your teeth, you hauled the heavy black trash bag over your shoulder and trudge through the sand to the large garbage bin that stood at the edge of where the sidewalk was. Beads of sweat rolled down the side of your face which you used your shoulder to quickly wipe away, the sensation tickling when it fell. Volunteering for ORCA had its ups and downs; you could be invited to charities one day and then melting in the sun the next.

"Just a few more bags and we'll be finished here [Name]," A voice breaks you out of your thoughts. Turning your head to the source, you make eye contact with familiar green eyes. Cove gives a wobbly smile and tries to wink. "We can go get frozen yogurt after this."

"That sounds so good right now," You whined, wiping the sweat collecting on your hairline. "I'm dying in this heat." He chuckles and starts heading towards the pile of trash bags on the other side of the beach before he stumbles. With quick reflexes, you go to steady him. But upon seeing Cove up close, you noticed that his face was pale, and his breathing had increased and a bit labored.

"Cove?" You called out in worry, removing one of your hands from his arms to place the back of it against his hot cheek. "Are you okay? You're a bit... pale."

Cove groans and places a hand on his head, eyebrows knitting together in pain. " 'm f..fine..headache." He attempts to take another step before falling onto one knee.

"Cove?!" You shout, kneeling down to his level and he immediately rests his weight on you. This catches the attention of other volunteers as they quickly rush over to help. "Cove, what's wrong?!"

A small whine of pain leaves his chapped lips before Cove's green eyes roll to the back of his head; his body drops into your arms.

"COVE!"

✰

Sitting on a plastic chair inside the First Aid tent, you watched Cove go in and out of consciousness. He layed in the bed with his shirt off and he was covered in ice packs in an attempt to cool him down. Cove's green hair swayed in the breeze as you fanned him with a folder you borrowed from one of the nurses that ORCA had hired for cases like this.

Your arm was getting sore, but for Cove, you'll keep going. It wasn't much longer when the boy finally comes to, his eyes settling on your blurry figure.

"Oh my gosh, Cove!" You rest your hands on the bed and lean into his space, causing him to let out a squeak as he scrambled to sit upwards.

"[Name]-" But it seems like he got up to fast.

Cove slaps a hand to his mouth, face turning into a sickly green. Noticing the signs you were told earlier; you quickly grabbed the puke bucket that was placed near your chair and held it out in front of Cove. He opens his mouth and blows chunks.

Few minutes pass by as you wait for Cove to finish, a hand settled on his back in an attempt to comfort him. The green haired man spits into the bucket one final time, takes a deep breath, and lets out a big sigh. Cove turns his head slightly to look at you with an embarrassed look.

"That...was something."

You let out a snort. "It was, but- are you feeling better now?" Setting the bucket down, carefully, you brush away Cove's bangs and used the back of your hand to check his temperature.

Cove bites back a blush forming on his cheeks as he watched you lean closer through thick green lashes. "I'm feeling a bit icky, but I'll manage." The smile that grows on your face makes him desperately wanting to lean in and give you a kiss, but he holds himself back.

"Do you need anything? Water? Snacks? More ice packs?" You began listing off things Cove might need. A warm hand rests on your shoulders stopping your listings.

"Can we get frozen yogurt?" Cove bites his lip as he awaits your answer before adding on with a laugh. "Later of course! Once I get better."

"Later it is then." You giggled.

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Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi!

[lover-girl-estxx]

Power Couple

(N31 Y28) Married a year

Asked by: @zelina2cool4u

y/ny/l/ndiaz: Nate does not like the airport lol

@ natediaz209

Nate was holding pads for me as I got ready to fight Miesha Tate at UFC 196 co-main event for Conor Mcgregor vs RDA. "ahh" I kicked the pad that he had by his face "good job again!" I did it again "beautiful" "Nate you have a call from Hunter and Dana!" the front desk girl said "shit" he mumbled taking the pads off "your in trouble" I said through my mouth piece smiling "shut up" he smiled and went over there. I seat on the mat wiping my forehead "babe come here!" he yelled I went over and took a deep breath "RDA fell out they want me to fight Conor they're on hold" "what do you want to do?" I leaned on the counter in front of him "I wanna take it" "take it" I smiled "i'll take it" he said on the phone before hanging up "we're gonna fight on the same card!" I smiled he smiled and wrapped his arms around me "no," I slightly pushed him away "go put your gloves on" he chuckled "okay".

I was in the closet packing my bag for Vegas "baby!" I yelled just as he turned the corner into the closet holding two bowls "oh hi! thank you!" "what were you going to say?" he leaned on the door frame "you want me to pack your bag?" "if you don't mind I gotta go train" "yeah I got it!" I smiled "thanks," he leaned down and kissed me "I love you gotta go" "love you".

| Nate's POV |

-- 7 days to the fight theyre in Vegas --

Y/n was doing some media I sat in the front row, she walked up in UFC sweats and one of our shirt "hi" she said smiling sitting down "first question over here," he found the guy in the crowd with her eyes before smiling again "now the main event of this card fell out and your husband stepped up and took the fight with Conor how does that make you feel?" she shrugged "um its not really the best possible outcome but he's really in shape if one of us is in camp we both are so i'm okay i'm away nervous when he goes into a fight so it's the same" she nodded. "anything different you've done getting ready for this fight?" "um tend to train sticking like crazy and..I still do but I have worked more on my BJJ this camp so we can stand and bang roll around I'm good either way and it helps that I have the bjj coach right there" she pointed at me I smiled. "well thank you guys! we gotta get to nates media thing" she said standing up "thank you" one of the reporters said.

Y/n was the one now sitting front row for my Q + A, "how are you feeling taking this fight on 11 days notice?" the first reporter asked "I don't really give a fuck anyone can get they're ass beat when ever" I shrugged Y/n chuckled before covering her mouth. "your wife is fighting the same night as your one of her head coachs aswell as your brother will she have either of you in her corner" "sadly no shes gonna have rich Gilbert and Jake" they nodded. "with no training camp how do you plan to prepear?" "I'm kinda over this so see ya!" I set the mic down and stood up. as we walked to our hotel room I wrapped my arm around her neck she put one hand on my waist and the other grabbing my hand intertwining our fingers "you gonna go train?" she asked she was done just focused on weight and rest "yeah" "you want me to come with you?" I shook my head "rest mamas" she nodded "okay". We got in the room and she laid right in the bed getting under the blanket while I changed into training clothes, I moved some hair out of her face and kissed her forehead "love you see ya in a bit" she smiled and pecked my lips "love ya".

-- Presser the Thursday before --

"please let me sit on Nate's side" Y/n asked dana "your red corner he's blue corner no" "I don't care I'm not sitting next to someone who wants to break my husband's face I'm not doing it" Dana sighed "fine" "wasn't a question" he scoffed a laugh "your lucky your a good fighter" y/n smiled and hugged me.

Me and Y/n sat next to me "I love this" she smiled and whispered "me too" I smiled. "First question for y/n," she nodded and grabbed the mic "you are ranked higher then Tate which means your in the red corner so you would be on the other side why are you not?" "Um I thought that would be obvious not to be rude,..but I'm not gonna sit next to someone who wants to break my husband's face and the same hes not gonna do that but fight night I will be in the red corner" "you'd be lucky to sit next to me!" "Shut the fuck up!" I said "you wanna fuckin start something?!" "U fuckin' opened your mouth shut the fuck up" I set the mic down, Y/n put her hand on my thigh. "I just wanna go to the room and smoke weed" I said leaning down next to her "me too ,you cuddle good when your high" she smiled my brows went together and smiled "I'm always high" "that's the point" she blushed "Nate?" Someone said I moved looking up "yeah?" I picked up the mic "you've said in your younger years that women don't belong in this sport..now you're sitting next to your wife both fighting and main and Co. How does that make you feel?" "I stand by what I said but um I think no one would want their wife to fight but I support her 100%" I nodded and set the mic down she smiled up at me.

"I think it's gonna be an easy fight I'm not worried about it" Tate said to Y/n "I can't wait to break you face" "shut up I've been doing this" "you've fuckin fought 5 times in the UFC, all my 20 fights have been here" "your an easy fight at the end of the day!" "I'm glad you think that I'm glad you think that wait till you're knocked out cold you'll see".

y/ny/l/ndiaz

y/ny/l/ndiaz : Who wouldn't want to work with their husband?

| Y/ns POV |

-- Show weigh ins --

"Now your Co- Main event! Next up to the scale Y/n 'your fight name' Diaz!" Joe yelled I ran up the stairs with my team and again they wouldn't let Nate come out with me but they did let Nick walk out with me, I waved to the crowd Nick was behind me throwing his arms up to get the crowd going. I toke my shirt off handing it to Nick "thanks" "weighting in at 134.5!" then I went over and shook Dana and Hunters hand. I got in Tates face my first almost touching her chin "fuck you" she said "I'm flattered" I smiled.

Nate walked up and did his face off, which didn't end well, a security member grabbed Nate and pulled him away "okay hes fine get away" I pushed the guy away I grabbed Nate's shoulders turning him to the stairs "go" I whispered.

I was eating a yogurt bowl while getting my hair braided, Nate wrestling with Nick on the Mat in front of me. Dana called and I picked up ofc "hey" I said "hey Nate's not answering so your cornering him?" "Yeah I'm running back and going with him" "you wanna just say there and change and wait for him?" "Sure that's fine" "all right that's all for now" "k thanks",I hung up the phone sighing. We were both done and Nate was talking to the guys and I was finishing up packing stuff up.

"hey Nate?" I said touching his shoulder "mm" he turned "I'm going back to the room k?" "I'll go with you" "k". I wrapped my arms around his waist in the elevator I kissed his cheek "I'm so tired" I closed my eyes "I know sleep in tomorrow before we go to the arena" I nodded "u okay?" I asked "yeah I feel good but I didn't have a long training camp".

"Love you" I said against his chest as I slowly fell asleep "love you" he kissed my head and rubbed my shoulder.

| Fight day |

Nate wanted to take me on a brunch date before the fight, we do it before almost every fight. "sushi yes," I said as he opened the sushi bar door for me "thanks" he nodded I got in the booth first then Nate. "I love your hair" he said "do you?" he nodded "always like when you braid your hair" he rubbed my shoulder "thank you" I kissed him. "have you thought of taking time off?" he asked as I grabbed and ate another roll "um I don't know I don't plan on fighting much longer, why?" he shrugged and took a bite "come on your thinking of something" I added and took a napkin to his cheek where he had some soy sauce on his face "thanks," I nodded "just thinking like kids and stuff" "well i've fought everyone and if-" "when" "when I beat Tate i'll get a title shot by the end of the year then I think maybe defend it then be done" "so like the end of next year?" I nodded "that good?" he nodded and smiled "that's perfect" I smiled and kissed his cheek.

I was stretching in me and Nate's locker room "u good? you need anything?" Nate asked I shook my head "I'm good". A cut man came in "Y/n u ready for wraps?" I nodded and set in the chair across from him, music played through my headphones as I rolled my neck around. I finished and Nate sat down next "need anything?" he shook his head I nodded Before starting drills running around the mat and other things.

My team was waiting outside and it was just me and Nate, I was putting my sweat suit over my fight wear. "hey" he said "yeah?" "your gonna do awesome okay?" I wrapped my arms around his neck "yeah you will too" he nodded "I love you be careful" "you do the same! I love you too," I kissed him "I'm just gonna wait for you in your corner okay?" he nodded "if you can't you just come back here" I nodded "k" I kissed him one more time before going out.

My walkout song started to play and the lights turned to me I put my arms up spinning before starting to walk, I first bumped a couple people. I got to the cutman and took a deep breath I took my jacket and sweats off handing them to Gilbert then hugged him then Richard give me some water before hugging me ten hugged Jake. They patted me down checked my hands, mouth guard then Vaseline, then I went to my corner I jumped around more there. "keep it standing as long as you can" Richard said I nodded.

"I want a good clean fight touch gloves if you want and head to your corners" Herb said I put my gloves out and she didn't and we just went back to our corners. the first round was all striking I cut her just above her eyebrow, I sat on my stool "beautiful all perfect keep doing what your doing" Richard said I nodded "when she throws a left her right goes down, wait for that then go" Jake said I nodded as I stood. I jumped around keeping my blood flowing, I went to the middle and we punched back and fourth. I wait and set it up perfectly knocking her down, I landed more on her face I got pulled off "yes! Ooww" I yelled.

| Nate's POV |

"yes fuck yeah!!" I yelled watching her on the TV "very impressive knock out Diaz! You are now ranked number 1 who do you wanna fight?" Joe asked her "Holly I'm coming for your fucking belt, you can't hide now I'm coming be fuckin ready!!" She pushed the mic away "Y/N DIAZ EVERYBODY!!" He said then went to walk away "oh wait," she said softly he came back "bad luck to my handsome husband in the main event!" She smiled and blew a kiss.

My coaches met me and my music started I sighed and started walking. Y/n met me in her sweat suit I hugged her "great fucking job I'm so proud of you,' I pulled back and kissed her "I love you" I whispered "love you too".

First round I put crazy pressure on him, I sat on my stool Y/n put ice on my back when I went to stand up his kissed my cheek. Conor went for a take down and I got him in a choke winning the fight. Y/n didn't wait for the door to open she jumped over wrapping her arms around me "you did fucking amazing oh my gosh" she smiled I smiled down at her and kissed her.

We got to the gate camera on us I held our holding hands up she screamed out and smiled. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, hers my waist "you did great" I whispered in her ear "so did you!" She laid her head on my shoulder.

We were now in the club Y/n held a beer in her hand, dancing was music play though the loud speaker. I pulled myself away from the covo between me and some of the guys, I wrapped my arm around her from behind then she continued to dance on me "how'd you know it's me?" I smirked and she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck "because I've known you 8 years" "hey?" "Huh?" She looked up at me rubbing the back of my neck " I love you like a lot" she looked taken back and confused "I know" she smirked "just wanted to tell you" "well I love you like a lot too" I smiled and kissed her before hugging and putting my head on hers.

A/n: sorry took so long hope you like it!!! This might be one of my longest pieces!! Love any interaction!

[steviewashere]

How Do Horses Wear Jeans?

Rating: General CW: None Tags: Post-Canon, Humor & Hijinks, Shenanigans, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Have a Brotherly Friendship, Dork Steve Harrington, Smug Steve Harrington, This is Silly and Probably Stupid and Very Goofy, Steve Winning Bets, Eddie Siding With Steve (Even Unknowingly), They're in Love, Dialogue Heavy, Short & Sweet Steve and Dustin have bets and arguments constantly over hypothetical scenarios. And Steve has a secret weapon to defend himself which is Eddie's opinion on these scenarios.

🐴—————🐴 It’s five in the morning. He doesn’t want to be awake, but is awake despite. To spite, eventually. But he’s here. In his little kitchenette. Spooning dry Honeycomb past his lips because they ran out of milk, listening to the Felix the Cat clock tick away, and trying to make sense of whatever thing Steve’s got this morning.

Here’s the thing, Eddie isn’t a morning person. Not in the slightest. He’ll wake up when he eventually feels like it—and sometimes he’ll go back to sleep for a few hours more. Though, since he’s somehow started dating Steve Harrington, he’s up and at ‘em when Steve feels like it. At first, it was a total accident. Steve had hefted himself out of bed a little too hard, jostled Eddie awake, and then he just stayed awake.

(Wayne questions what black magic Steve brewed because in all the years he’s known his own son, Eddie has never—not even once—been awake at the same time as another person. Not willingly, at least.)

It just became a force of habit.

Steve’s up? Eddie’s up. Steve’s down? Eddie’s down. Steve’s hauling ass? Eddie’s hauling Steve’s ass—okay, so maybe that one’s different, but it still counts.

What he didn’t expect, though, was for Steve’s mind to be so active in the morning. Sure, he fantasizes about Steve slipping into some running sneakers and going about the neighborhood, boobying about or…whatever he does; running, probably, but Eddie’s horn-dog mind doesn’t make it past sweat and hair without half-passing out from a hard-on. Steve doesn’t go jogging in the mornings, that’s the weird thing. No, this puzzle of a man wakes up at five to down a plate of plain scrambled eggs—of all things—and guzzle a glass of orange juice. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand, after that satisfying glass of OJ, belches like he’s the only person on the face of the planet, and then says some oddball thought out loud for Eddie to parse.

Yesterday, it had been the question on whether or not jellyfish poop. “Yes,” he had told Steve, “they just shit out of their mouth. They only have one opening, y’know.” And Steve had stared at him. Cackled. Then proceeded to ask him what other creatures shit out of their mouth. Eddie didn’t have an answer. Steve came to the conclusion that Mike Wheeler does—and that…well, Eddie can agree with that most of the time.

This morning, Steve spoons heaping piles of eggs into his mouth. Chews with his mouth open as he’s talking—the heathen. Gets his usual glass of orange juice. (Keep in mind this is all while Eddie’s groggy, his bangs are slick to his forehead from hot flashes in the night, spooning sharp and dry cereal down his throat, trying to keep up.) Then, a belch and a half later—Jesus H. Christ—Steve voices, “If a horse wore pants, do you think they’d wear them on their back two legs or on all legs?” His words sleep riddled and husky, still syrupy from dreamland.

Eddie blinked. Blinked some more.

“What?” He finally got out, throat brittle from his cereal.

“Horses,” Steve says, “they’re wearing pants. How many legs are covered in jeans? The back two or all of them? Because I feel like it makes more sense for just the back two, but also”—he tsks—“they aren’t people. So…would a horse have its own way of wearing jeans separate from us? Or would they just go with it?”

“I…I don’t know? Why are they wearing jeans?”

Steve shrugged. “They just are.”

He set his bowl on the counter behind him, clinking it against a couple other dishes he has yet to put away from the dinner last night. Last night, when Steve brought up the idea that dogs would have their own accents based on the regions they grew up in. And he just sighs.

“So…horses are wearing jeans,” he thinks aloud, words slow, “and you need to know the orientation in which they’d wear them?”

“Yeah!” Steve exclaims, snapping the thumb and index finger on his right hand, “they’re wearing jeans! But how?”

“I mean, having jeans on all four legs would look weird,” Eddie gives as his two cents, “we don’t wear jeans on our arms.”

Steve hums, but it’s more of a, “See, but here’s the thing…” hum. “Jean jackets, though. We wear jean jackets. Jeans on our legs. Jean shirts. People have all kinds of ways of wearing jeans, so what about horses?”

“What about horses? Wouldn’t they just have their own trends, too? Like some would wear jeans on the back two legs and others do all the legs? I bet they’d wear jean saddles, too if they could figure out how to get them on by themselves!”

And…shit. This is exactly what Steve does to him every morning.

Voice some thought. The thought is random, doesn’t make much sense, could be waved off with a simple hand. But then Steve gets him all heated. To the point where he argues some weird defense.

Then, Steve looks at him after it all.

Some smug, satisfied grin on his face. The heathen!

“So would horses be like us, then? Just wear jeans however they felt like it?” Steve asks. Still smug. So smugly.

Eddie groans. “Is this some weird argument you’ve got going on with Dustin or something? Am I just backing your point—again?”

“Oh…I don’t know,” Steve drawls. “Maybe. But also…since you’re on my side”—he can’t help but groan at Steve again—“then that means Dustin loses the bet we had. Dude gets to sort out the tapes the next time he tags along for one of my shifts.”

He levels Steve with a look. One eyebrow raised. Eyes wide. “What’d he do?”

“Spilled Dr. Pepper on the floor of my car,” he answers simply, “he didn’t have the money to help pay for it to be cleaned and detailed. So. Next best thing? Punishment at Family Video. And also I get to rub it in his face that my point is correcter.”

“More correct.”

“Whatever,” Steve mumbles, a flippant hand in front of him. “You knew what I meant. I just get to be more correct for once and that’s gonna be freaking awesome sauce, dude.”

Eddie snorts. Mutters, “Awesome sauce.” Then, he picks up his bowl of cereal again, another dry spoonful on his tongue. Asks, “What if he gets the others to rally with him? How’re you gonna prove your point then?”

Steve goes completely quiet and still.

It’d be worrisome if he wasn’t screwing his face up every few seconds, working through other thoughts he’s got. What rambunctious things go on in his brain, Eddie doesn’t know—probably won’t ever know, but at least he knows Steve’s working on…something.

And at the last few crumbs being poured into his mouth, Steve has the audacity to follow through with, voice serious and low, “Monkeys are taking over the planet. You have to save one of two things. Your acoustic or the Garfield mug, which one are you picking?”

He shakes his head and sighs, turning towards the sink with his cereal bowl. But, after a few seconds of thought, he answers, “Probably the acoustic. A mug wouldn’t do me any good against monkeys, right?”

Behind him, Steve lets out a large victory whoop. The commotion of him moving through the trailer, into the kitchenette, sidling up right next to Eddie. He smacks a wet, noisy kiss to Eddie’s cheek. Whispers, “I knew it!” And then starts back towards the bedroom—Eddie can only assume to put on some more decent clothes than his pajamas.

Which is confirmed mere minutes later when Steve presents himself again, keys in hand, pumping his fist and pointing directly at Eddie in the living room. “That little shrimp has to clean the men’s restroom, too! Ha-ha!” he shouts.

Playfully, he rolls his eyes and smirks. “Go to work, you dork. Don’t wanna miss Dustin’s betrayed little face.”

Steve grins, teeth and all. “Oh, I know. It’s gonna be fucking great. That’s what he gets for spilling his sticky ass soda in my car.” He strides to the trailer’s door, begins to step out, but once he’s half-way through, he turns back to Eddie with, “I love you, Eds. I’ll keep my mouth shut about you answering my questions. Dustin won’t have a fucking clue.”

“Love you, too,” he says, “and don’t worry about throwing me under the bus. I’ll always be on your side…whether I realize it initially or not.”

Later, when Steve’s on his lunch break, Eddie will get a call—another hypothetical:

“If pigs could fly, would they use it for good or evil?”

He can’t help but wonder how he got stuck with the most lovable dork on the planet.

And how Dustin keeps getting roped into these goofy bets. Probably his tone, Eddie surmises, yeah…probably his tone.

🐴—————🐴

[coochellati]

Carnal Inhibitions

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Bruno Bucciarati x gender-neutral reader

Summary: Bruno takes on a submissive role, granting you total control over him.

Genre: Kinky-ass Smut

Content: Inappropriate use of stands, Bruno Bucciarati is a messy sub, overstimulating, edging, aftercare.

Word Count: 1,042

{Read on AO3!}

Drenched in sweat, the imperturbable underboss of Passione trembles under your touch, gasping as if he were fighting for his life. Eyes scrunched shut beneath furrowed brows, he reflexively attempts to cover his gaping mouth with his hand, but it's no use--the rope binding his wrist prevents him from reaching that far. His meticulously styled bangs now cling to his forehead in soaked clumps, the flashy gold clips holding his braid in place gradually sliding out of his hair.

Bruno Bucciarati is a��fucking mess.

"Cazzo, m-merda--" he stammers, shooting you a frantic stare before throwing his head backward, letting out a filthy, guttural moan as his body abruptly jolts forward. "Please just let me--"

A frustrated groan escapes him as you suddenly release him and his stand from your grasp. He scrunches his eyes once more as he struggles against the ropes tethering him to his bed, but quickly resigns himself to his fate—he isn't going anywhere. He shoots you a distressed stare.

"I can't--I don't--I don't know how much more of this I can--" he desperately stutters, choking on his breath.

"What, can't handle a bit of pleasure?" you tease, a smirk plastered across your face.

"A bit of pleasure?" His voice shakes. "That's what you call it? This is torture! Ah--!" Bruno lets out a distraught whine as you begin caressing him with your thumbs, one for each tip. He's hot to the touch, cock flushed a deep shade of red.

"Oh, come on--you're a mafioso, you can handle it. Besides, I know you're enjoying this. If you weren't, you would have unsummoned Sticky Fingers by now," you smugly retort. He sharply inhales through gritted teeth as you resume your movements on him and his stand. 

"Too much, this is too much—" he whines, as the phantom sensations and tangible pleasure mix together, creating an unbearable amount of stimulation. You anticipate him to follow up with the safe word the two of you had chosen, but he doesn't, validating your previous claim.

Heartbeat pounding in his face, Bruno tenses, once again approaching climax. "Please--p-please let me cum," he begs, voice strained with hysteria. You can tell he's close--with an evil smile, you abruptly stop all movements, swiftly withdrawing your hands from him.

'Ah--Cazzo!' he cries out, releasing a prolonged, pained groan. With wide eyes, he stares at the ceiling, his lip trembling. He shuts his eyes, and the floodgates open—tears stream down his face, his thick, dark eyelashes clumping together. Each breath he takes is shaky, accompanied by soft sniffles. "I—I can't," he manages between gasps for air, his voice barely audible. "P-please, I can't..." The rest of his words dissolve into unintelligible jibberish.

You chuckle lowly, wiping away his tears. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry like this." Drawing your face close to his, you gently brush back his sodden bangs as he continues to weep. Finally, you give him a tender kiss on the forehead. "Alright—you've been good. I'll let you come." 

"T-thank you," Bruno chokes out, gulping as you continue massaging him and his stand with slow, deliberate strokes. With his mouth hanging agape, he emits a constrained gasp, his face intensely contorted in agonizing pleasure. His heart feels as if it's about to give out; a string of Italian expletives disjointedly spills from his mouth as he forcefully presses the back of his head into the mattress, body stiffening. 

"I'm going to--" his words are abruptly cut off by a sharp gasp, eyes widening as he tumbles over the threshold, vision fading to black as ecstasy engulfs his body. A loud, shameless groan fills the room, and his consciousness explodes into a flaming blast, body violently jerking as his senses become consumed by intense, rippling shockwaves. Pulsing in your hand, he releases, spilling out onto himself and the bedsheets surrounding him. 

With one final moan, he crumbles apart, his body going limp. Still in shock, he pants heavily, eyes quickly darting around the room in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings.

"Merda," he chuckles, still out of breath. A smile forms on his face. "That was intense."

"And you handled it so well," you warmly praise and begin stroking his hair, unfazed by its warm dampness. He lets out a content sigh as he sinks into the bed, body melting at your touch. The two of you sit still for a few seconds, savoring the moment before you reach for the baby wipes you had set on the nightstand in preparation for the events that had just occurred. "Here, let me clean you." He watches as you wipe away the mess on his torso, your touch delicate. 

Once finished, you cradle his jawline, eliciting a soft smile from Bruno. His deep, half-lidded eyes lock onto yours as you lean in close, noses touching. "I love you, Bruno."

"I love you, too," he whispers gently, releasing a singular, happy chuckle before pressing his warm lips against yours. A blissful haze descends, clouding your senses as the faint light from the flickering candle on the nightstand casts elongated shadows of both of you on the wall opposite. Everything around you is still, quiet, and calm.

Gently pulling away, Bruno lightly tugs at the ropes. "Care to untie me?"

"Oh—right, of course," you say, slightly flustered. He patiently waits as you release each limb.

Finally free, he sits up and rolls his wrists around, closing his eyes as he lets out a long exhale of relief. With one hand, he pushes back his hair and turns his head towards you, silently mouthing, "Thank you." You nod in acknowledgment and flop onto the bed, resting on your back.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter, realizing you hadn't checked where you decided to lie down. "We're going to have to wash the bedding."

He smiles in amusement, leaning over you. "Yeah, but not yet."

"Huh? Aren't we going to sleep somewhat soon...?--OH!" Surprise flashes across your face as Bruno suddenly pins you down. The sound of a zipper tickles your ears as you become securely fastened to the bed.

With a smirk on his face, he looks down at you. "What? You think you're off the hook?" He chuckles softly, shaking his head. His eyes narrow. "Your turn."

[rafedaddy01]

Series Masterlist

~SECRET~ r.c.

Summary: you are toppers cousin and your family decided to move closer so that you could be closer to family. You and Rafe have been on and off for months secretly

Warnings: smut, praise kink, p in v, language, (I think that’s it)

A/n: my first story, I’ve been writing this for months and finally got the courage to post it!

“Rafe we can’t keep doing this”

“Mmm, why not” he asked leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. Fuck, he always knew how to make you feel good with his mouth. “B-because toppers your best friend and my cousin. He would be p-pissed if he found out” you said in between soft moans. “Then we better not tell him” he said pulling away to remove his shirt and expose his toned chest and abs.

You pulled him in for a kiss and you guys made out for what felt like hours but was really a few seconds until you removed his sweats and he had you in your underwear in a quick swept move, his specialty. “Fuck y/n, your so hot” Rafe whispered. “Your not so bad yourself” you said pushing him onto the bed as you climbed atop him and started running your fingers through his hair as his fingers gripped your hips tightly. You grinded into him a bit causing him to grunt and he flipped you over so he was on top. “Enough teasing” he hissed at you as he attacked your bare nipples with his mouth, moving lower and lower till he got to your panty covered cunt. He hooked his fingers around the thin, lacy fabric and tugged them down. “Rafe” you huffed. He could make you cum from across the room just by the look he gives you when you too are at a party. “Please fuck me” you whimpered spreading your legs further inviting him in. “Don’t have to ask me twice” he said as he reached in his drawer for a condom and rolled it on before aligning his tip with your cunt. “Ready princess” he asked. You nodded your head anxiously as he inserted himself inside you and slowly started thrusting. “Faster” you moaned as his hands went on either sides of your body and he sped up. “Shit y/n your so fucking tight” Rafe grunted as he thrusted harder and harder. Both of your moans filled the dimmed room. “F-uck rafe, feels so good” you moaned as he came down to kiss your neck, enhancing the pleasure shooting through your body. You whispered in his ear “good boy, fuck me just like that” Rafe secretly loved being praised and you knew just how to make him crazy.

“Such a good boy, fucking me so good Rafe” you said. He pulled out and flipped you over so he could hit it from the back. This new position made him go even deeper than before and you were fucked out of your mind as he slammed harder and faster with each thrust. “Shit Rafe, I’m so close baby” you moaned as you pushed your ass back against his dick. “Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock. Keep doing that as you cum baby, fuck so hot” Rafe said using his free hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead and run his fingers through his hair. He stopped thrusting to watch you move backward on his cock. Getting yourself off as he slapped your ass making you squeal from the pain and pleasure. “Shit y/n I’m close too” you both came undone and he pulled out and fell next to you out of breath.

You turned to face him, “this is our dirty little secret” you said as he pulled you into his chest and kissed your forehead before you both dozed off.

“Rafe! Open the door dude!” You woke up to banging on Rafes door, he was fast asleep next you. Both still naked from your actions last night. “Shit, Rafe wake up. Toppers here.” You whispered as you nudged him awake. “What?” He asked rubbing his eyes. “Toppers here!” You whisper screamed. He jumped out of bed and quickly put on his sweat pants. “Shit-uh- shit just go in the bathroom I’ll try to get rid of him.” He said as you gathered your scattered clothes off the floor and rushed to the bathroom.

You could faintly hear them talking through the door. “Yo, what the fuck took you so long. I got some coke, wanna do a line?” Topper said. “Shit is that a hickey? Someone had a fun night” fuck you thought. “Topper not right now, I just woke up let me brush my teeth and I’ll meet you downstairs bro” Rafe said.

As topper made his way out the door something caught his eye. “Shit bro, whose panties are these?” Oh no. “Is she still here? You dirty dog. Where is she Rafe. I wanna see the slut.” Topper said pushing Rafe aside and you could hear his footsteps towards the bathroom door.

“Topper man she left. She must have forgotten those. Trust me the slut wasnt worth it.” Rafe said. You heard topper chuckle as his footsteps departed. “Man you’ll fuck anything that moves” topper laughed as he left the room and Rafe came in the bathroom to find that you had climbed out the window and made a run for it. “Shit y/n”

part 2

[shelbgrey]

Short story: Dream Warriors(Lance Sweets)

Paring: Lance Sweets x Hodgins!Reader

Summary: the day y/n and her brother Jack were buried in the car by the Gravedigger still haunts her in many different ways. One night she wakes up screaming, her boyfriend Lance is there to comfort her.

A/n: this story won the poll I posted, I'm so excited it won. Sorry it's so short.

MasterList

Where am I...?

I blinked a couple of times and saw nothing but darkness, I squeezed my eyes shut and winced as specks of dirt fell on my face. My lungs burned at the lack of oxygen as tried to moved around, realizing were I was I started to panic.

Not again...

“no... No!” I pounded on the car window, remembering this all to well. The only difference was I was utterly alone in the darkness.

I pushed and pushed on all the windows trying to excape but nothing worked. I weezed as the doors of the car started to close in on me.

I pushed with all the strangth I had to stop it from closing in on me and crushing me. “let me out!” I sobbed and banged on the doors.

The sounds of metal and glass cracking filled my ears, it fell like every part of my body was being crushed. I kicked as hard as I could intill the door came off. Dirt came flooding in, invading all my sences. As the salty earth filled my throat I felt myself falling. I grabed and threw my hands around trying to stop it but nothing worked.

“oof” I groaned as my back hit a sheat of rusted metal. I coughed and heaved trying to relive my lung from all the dirt and sand. I grabbed at my chest and panted, when I took a breath a noticed the steam and pipes that surrounded me.

“help me!”

I quickly stood up at the familour shouting. “Jack!” I ran towards the sound of his voice only to get whipped back, hard enough to where I went flying right into a large stake in the wall.

Blood trickled down my chin as I looked at the blood covered piece of metal coming out of my chest. “h-help me” I croaked out.

Then It went black...

A bight light glared at me, the light remind me of the light fixture in the Lab. Temperance then came into view and picked up my face... My skull actually

“y/n, Baby wake up” Lance said shaking me.

I jolted awake in a sweating, out of breath haze. I coughed and tried regulated my breathing.

It felt like my heart was gonna burst into flames with how fast and hard it's beating. Like in my dream, my chest heaving hard, feeling like I still couldn’t breathe properly no matter how hard I tried.

“Lance...” I croaked as hot tears filled my eyes, it clouded my vision. It felt so real, it felt like I was right back in that damn car. I couldn’t stop relaying the moment me and jack were buried in that car, reliving the molment I woke up in ICU and the only relief I felt was when I open my eyes and Lance was there. Just like this very moment.

“Hey its okay” he whispered and pulled me to his chest. I grabed on this shirt and sobbed into his chest, there was nothing stopping the tears now.

“I got you, your safe... I promise” he said running his fingers through my hair as he hugged me tighter. I held on to him for dear life, trying to regain what was and wasn't reality.

“I-i was-s in the car ag-gain... It felt so real” I said between sobbs. I buried my face in the crook of his neck as he tried to sooth me.

“she's gone baby” he said referring to the Gravedigger, you could hear the anger in his voice. He hated her and it was like some dark secret we refused to mention. I never wanted to talk about that night and Lance never pushed the subject.

“I won't let anything hurt you” he whispered as he kissed my cheeks and forehead. I never felt so safe with someone, and when he said that I believed him without a doubt.

“I was dead...” I cried. “just another corpse on Temperance's table”

“Hey..” he said softly and placed his hand on my cheek, he lifted my face so our eyes met. “that's never gonna happen” he wiped away the falling tears as he rested his forehead on mine.

I leaned in pushing my lips to his. He moaned softly and shuts his eyes, kissing back deeply and softly. A kiss so full of love and tenderness. Lance pulls away softly and lays us both down on the bed. I layed on his chest, hanging on for dear life as his arms were secure around my body.

“I got you... I promise my Love” he said kissing the top of my head.

“I love you” is the last thing I remembered before drifting back into a deep slumber. The type of slumber were there are no cares, just because I was in his arms I knew I was safe.

[bettysupremacy]

Always

Summary: What if Steve had been wounded worse in the upside down?

A/N: I’m working on some requests I got recently that I really liked

Upset swirls deep in Steve’s stomach. It plants roots and grows upwards towards his chest, penetrating his heart, quickening his breaths. He’s so scared right now.

Scared of what? He doesn’t know for sure.

The fact that he’s back in the upside down, the fact that she’s here with him. The fact that he couldn’t save her, that she needed to save him.

It’s a foreign feeling for him, for sure. The feeling of being looked after, attended to. The way she stood in front of him, oar raised high as bats circled them in a cluster. The way she swung it senselessly, hitting them out of the air one by one.

He watches her back move up and down, breathing heavy in rapid panic.

He retches, the smell of the upside down getting to his stomach worse than the upset. Dead skin, stagnant bats, and whatever the green sludge was, permeating the air. His hands dig into the deep gravel of whatever they’re standing on.

“It’s okay, baby, let it out.”

He doesn’t have time to care about her seeing this before he retches again. Hands are in his hair, pulling his bangs from his sweaty forehead. They work their way down to his neck, knuckles coming to wipe away his sweat again, and down to his shoulders, kneading the tense flesh, as someone whispers words of encouragement.

“Was there something in those bat bites?” A wary voice asks, tone deaf of the atmosphere. “Is he purging?”

“Smell.” Steve chokes out. “Smell.”

“What?” Robin gawks.

“He said it’s the smell, lets get him away from here.”

Eddie helps Y/N lift him up, hoisting one arm over his shoulders, and the other over hers. Steve taps her arm lightly and she intertwines her fingers with his, letting his head loll to her shoulder, pain and nausea getting the better of him.

“I know, honey.” She coos, leading him towards any sort of shelter slowly. “I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta get you out of here.”

Her left hand comes up to drift above his ear, pulling tendrils of hair away from his face. His eyes close in content, focusing on her working fingers, rather than each excruciating step he takes.

“I think I see a rock.” Nancy yells, unaware of the pounding drum it sets off in Steve’s head. Her and Robin are up ahead of Y/N, Steve, and Eddie, holding hands so tightly that white bleeds around their wound fingers.

He whimpers, pushing his nose into the fabric above her shoulder, holding back a gag at the stench it holds of the upside down.

She covers his ear as Eddie yells, “I don’t think a rock will cover us, Nance!”

“Lovers rock!”

The surprise in Y/N and Eddie’s locked eyes shows quickly, pushing them to move Steve quicker. The hand over Steve’s ear slithers around his waist, over Eddie’s arm, as they movie him swifter. It gives him more support to stand and walk, but he whines in pain at the loss of her comfort.

“Almost there, baby, almost there.” Her hand gives his fleshy side a squeeze, “You’ve got this.”

They clamber over rubble and roots as they try to get Steve to a safe place. His back rubs raw against the stone as he slides into a seating position, but all he can focus on is the way his stomach is rumbling impatiently.

She sits next to him, letting him lean to the side, head in her lap. She kisses his hairline despite the gunk and grime in it.

“Show me his cuts, Eddie.”

Eddie looks down at her warily, pointing his finger to his chest. “Me?”

“Yes, please.”

He looks at the two girls standing pleadingly, but they look back at him expectantly. Traitors. He bends, lifting Steve’s shirt gently. He moans out in pain, startling Eddie away from him.

“Gently.” Y/N direct’s, “You gotta keep going.”

He looks at her desperate face, begrudgingly giving into her orders.

“You can’t stop, I need to see his cuts.”

The cloth is sticky and wet as it peels from Steve’s abdomen, some parts are already a dry brown. Eddie tries not to think about his fingers touching it. He doesn’t stop when Steve cries out again.

“Oh my god.” Eddie gags as the shirt is completely lifted.

Robin is staring at her best friend in startled horror. “Is he going to live?”

Nancy gives her girlfriend a look that screams not right now.

“I just gotta,” Y/N’s hands shake as she grabs the shirt from Eddie, adrenaline of the experience catching up to her. “I don’t have anything to clean them with.”

“We’re not gonna find anything down here.” Eddie sighs, bringing his hand to cover his eyes exasperatedly.

“My house is not far from here, maybe there’s something there.” Nancy gives.

“I wouldn’t trust any upside down shit on his cuts.” Robin deadpans.

They’re all looking at Y/N expectantly, practically begging for her to tell them what to do. She doesn’t know. Why are they looking to her? Nancy is the natural leader.

“What do I do, Nance?” Her shaky, gross, hands come up to wipe at her face.

“Wrap his cuts so they stop bleeding, even if we can’t clean them.” She starts to rip the white cloth from her stomach, bunching it up and handing it to Eddie as she helps Y/N lift him. “We can bring him to my house for shelter as we figure out how we’re getting out.”

“How are we getting out?” Robin glances at her girlfriend, but nobody answers her.

Nancy tightly wraps the cloth around Steve, helping Y/N and Eddie lift him to a standing position. The walk to Nancys house is almost as excruciating as the walk to lovers rock. He trips over rocks and vines as Eddie and Y/N support most of his weight, even with Nancy behind him holding his back up.

“Almost there, almost there.”

With the house in view, their pace grows quicker. More coveted to reach the abandoned Wheeler home. Inside, it’s exactly what’d you expect. Family home of five washed up like nobody has stepped foot in here.. ever.

They lay him on the filthy couch as the three other terrified teens look for answers.

He grumbles, no doubt asking her a question, but she can’t quite make out what he’s saying.

“What is it, babe?” She sticks her ear closer to his mouth.

“Are you.. okay?”

A startled laugh bubbles out of her chest as she lifts up her head. He smiles confusedly up at her.

“You were just attacked by a buncha demon bats and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

“Need to know my baby’s okay.” His voice is hoarse and rough. No doubt from being choked and throwing up. Oh, she’s so glad he’s alive.

Her eyes well suddenly. Everything that occurred in the last 24 hours catching up to her. She turns and looks in the backpack she was wearing when she jumped in. It’s drenched, though the contents within are relatively dry.

“Do you want water? Or crackers? They’re kinda crushed, but you haven’t ea-“

His hand has come up to push hair behind her ear as she looks down at him. “Why’re you crying?”

The silence that follows frightens him. It’s so loud he fears his ears might pop. He can hear muffled thuds of the gang upstairs, the distant bat outside the house.

“I was just really worried.” It cracks halfway through as her lip wobbles, effectively breaking his heart.

“Don’t be,” he pushes up, trying to sit, but she has to worriedly grab his arms and help him. “Look I’m okay.”

“You weren’t.” Her eyes flick to the red soaked cloth on his stomach, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into it, letting her shoulders shake with the sobs she’s been holding on.

“Oh, my girl.” He pats her back, swaying them. “You can’t get rid of me like that.”

“No?”

“No way, are you kidding me?” She lifts her head up and he noses at her cheek. “Don’t be sad, please, not over me.”

His middle finger wipes the tears from her both her eyes delicately.

“I’ll always be sad over you.” She frowns.

He pauses. That foreign feeling is back again, burrowing under his skin. He doesn’t notices she’s closer until her arms are wrapping around him, snaking their way into a protective hold.

“Always.”

Her warm hands slowly drift down his back and under his shirt, working their way around his torso. He sighs at the contact, letting himself pull her closer so he can rest his cheek on her shoulder. He lets himself be held by her, lets himself revel in the feeling of being loved, cared for, needed.

They grasp each other with a mutual desperation that they don’t think they’ve ever felt before.

His lips mold into her neck as he presses a lengthy kiss to it. “I wanna take care of you.”

“Who’s gonna take care of me when there’s no one to take care of you?” There’s a heartbeat of silence, “Exactly. Please let me take care of you, for my sake.”

“Okay.” His hands hold her tighter.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”