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bartxnhood · 2 years ago

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middle of the night | c.b

colby brock x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

summary: sleep is almost nonexistent to you. a darkness takes over your mind, but colby is the light you need.

warnings: best friends to lovers, nightmare & gore scene, reader and colby being so oblivious to their feelings (JUST KISS ALREADY GOD.)

a/n: hi guys !! i’m not too sure what this is but i’ve been meaning to write for colby for a while so this is definitely something. i was slightly inspired by middle of the night by elley duhé (the song and the fic are not related in any way. the song just heavily reminds me of colby?) also, this one is slightly darker than my previous ones so read with caution. 🤍 enjoy !! feedback is appreciated.

requested open

not proofread

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you didn’t know when the nightmares started, but when they started they never stopped. they kept you up for hours sometimes, other nights you wouldn’t sleep at all.

it was agonizing, you could barely function during the day. you were beyond fatigued and drained. it has been like this for a couple of years now, and maybe you brought it upon yourself as you had messed with some pretty dark stuff when you were younger without the proper knowledge. you always joked to your friends that you were cursed, but as you grew older you started to believe it yourself.

when your close friends decided to take on the mystery of the paranormal you pretty much refused to have anything to do with it. as you were still dealing with the consequences of your younger self. despite your friends begs and pleads you still kept your walls up high. even the thought of going out with them to these locations made you sick.

but, one day kat came to you fully prepared for rejection but she wanted to rest her case.

“y/n, please. i don’t want to be alone” she begged, following you in the hallway of your apartment as you entered your room saying, “you won’t be alone, sam will protect you, and if he doesn’t colby is there for back up” katrina groaned, standing in your doorway. “you know what i mean. i don’t want to be the only girl.” you finally turned around and your eyes met with the girl. she was pleading silently. you ran your hands through your hair letting out a frustrated sigh,” fine. but if i get touched or I'm uncomfortable at all i’m leaving.” katrina grinned, and threw herself into your arms. “thank you so much, y/n.”

so, there you stood filming a video with your three best friends standing inside the conjuring house. you were doomed.

throughout the night, you felt like you were being watched. heavily. but still, you refrained from telling the guys knowing how excited they were to finally experience this. you couldn’t do that, not to colby at least.

ever since it was confirmed that they were going to the infamous house, he was so excited. you loved seeing that light in his eyes glow anytime you’d mention something related to the work he does. he loves what he does.

but, he loves you even more. he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were safe, especially in a place as dark as this home.

when he noticed your unusual behavior, he pulled you over to the side just to make sure you were okay. “are you sure you’re okay?” his hand lingered on your shoulder a bit too long, but you didn’t mind it. “i’m fine, it’s just a lot” you smiled, trying to assure his worries. “okay, well, if it’s gets to be too much let me know. i’m not going to force you to do this.” he was so kind to you. you nodded, “i know, now let’s go back before they start to miss us”

unfortunately, that night was when colby found out about your night terrors.

it was the early hours of the morning when you arrived back at the hotel, you bid goodnight to your friends and went to your room. both sam and cat, colby had rooms next to you so you were all close by.

you opened your eyes, finding yourself in a dark room. no sound, no light, no sense of anything in this room. just a void. you tried searching for anything just to get out. until out of the corner of your eye you see a tall creature lurking, its jaws unhinged comically, its teeth like a leech, beckoning you closer to its open maw, drool lolled out of its mouth, pooling at the floor.

“no..” you breathed, tears brimming your eyes as your breath thickened. “no!” you screamed. “y/n!!” you heard panicked screams calling out your name and your head whipped around seeing your friends. “no!! run!!” you yelled back, but it was far too late.

your friends scream in terror but make no effort to move as the beast grabs them, tearing into them, blood and entrails hit the floor, splattering onto your face. you were breathless, screaming colby’s name.

you jolted up, gasping for breath as your chest began to loosen. you were covered in sweat, tears staining your cheeks. the loud pounding at your door brought you out of your daze. “y/n?! it’s me, i heard screaming are you alright?” it was colby, you threw off the blankets and walked to your door, unlocked it, and then opened it to reveal a very worried colby.

when he first saw you, his gaze softened realizing that you were okay but then he saw you had been crying, your breathing was shallow and sweat pooled on your forehead. “what is it? what happened?” “nightmare” you croaked, he saw how shaken you were so he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“shh. you’re okay.” his arms wrapped around you, but his touch only made you cry harder. the fresh image of him being ripped apart was still fresh in your mind. “it’s okay, i’m right here” colby gently rubbed your back, feeling your heaves.

his heart was aching, seeing you in so much pain. colby didn’t expect you to tell him what happened in your nightmare, all he was focusing on was being there for you. “will you stay with me, tonight?“ your voice hoarse from the screaming, you pulled away from his chest looking up at him. “just until i fall asleep.” colby nodded, “of course. i’ll be right by your side”

colby stayed up all night, making sure that if you needed him he was there. plus, it gave him the excuse to admire you. every crease in your skin, the way your eyebrows furrowed as you dream. he wanted nothing more than to hold you tightly, and never let anything harm you again. even the nightmares, he would find a way to stop those. even if it killed him. he never felt like this around anyone, only you. it’s always been you.

that was the best sleep you’d had in years, it has been so long since you had felt this refreshed. you were in the best mood, and everyone noticed but you only said you had a good sleep.

when arriving home, your friends dropped you off at your apartment but colby insisted on walking you in. and who are you to deny him?

“thank you again for last night.” you set your bags on your sofa, and he shook his head. “anything you need, i’m your man” you smiled, “still, it was just a lot. so thank you” “of course, y/n” colby hugged you, squeezed you tightly then pulled away. “call me, text me, or just somehow get in touch with me if it happens again. i’ll be here.” “i’m serious” he added

colby was serious, he cared for you deeply probably more than he should but he didn’t care. “i will, i promise” you grinned. there it was. that grin. it always made him feel fuzzy inside. “good” he nodded.

your thumb hovered over colby’s contact, debating with yourself if you should call him or just try to sleep again. after fighting with yourself, you finally pressed call and held the phone to your ear.

“y/n?” he answered, his voice sounding groggy. you must’ve woken him up. “did i wake you up?” “yeah, but it’s okay. what’s up?” you felt bad, you didn’t mean to wake him up. “i’m fine, just forget about it.”

he stopped you, “was it about her nightmare?” you sighed, “yeah.” “do you need me to come over?” he offered. “no, i’m okay really. just scared me.” “i can come over, i don’t mind at all.” “colby..” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “i’ll be there in fifteen.”

then, it became a routine. colby spent most of his time at your apartment, not that he didn’t mind, he enjoyed it. it was an excuse for him to see you twenty-four seven. but with his presence, somehow the terrors stopped. when colby was around you felt relaxed, you could rest. you’d lay on the sofa while he sat and watched your tv, or you were in bed and he was right next to you.

at night, when you couldn’t sleep colby, was still by your side. if he was working on editing videos you’d sit up with him and have a movie on in the background. or, if the both of you had nothing to do, you would just talk. talk until the early hours of the morning about anything. from childhood memories to what you two wanted to do in your future.

but one night, colby finally asked why you never wanted to do the investigations with him.

“i just know how bad they can get” you shrugged. he nodded, “i agree, but we always take our precautions. you know i wouldn’t let anything happen to you, y/n” there they were again. those damn butterflies. you nodded, “i know, colbs” you took a deep breath, sitting up. you figured it was better now than never to tell him.

“when i was younger, i went out with some friends to this haunted place. it was dark. like, very dark. and after that…the nightmares started.” you picked at your nails. “it’s the same one, every time. you, sam, and kat. this…thing is there. it’s tall, black and it’s just inhuman. it tries to attack me. but you guys are yelling, telling me to run, and then it..” you pause, you felt heat rush to your cheeks and your eyes started to tear up. “it rips you to pieces..right in front of me..” your voice was breaking as you explained.

he pulled you into his arms as you teared up. “it’s okay. i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere.” he rubbed your back “i promise. you’re safe, i’m safe. i’ll be here, any time, any day, i will come to you”

colby became the one person you relied on, he became your rock.

then he disappeared. vanished. he should’ve said no to her, you needed him. he was supposed to be there, he saw your messages but he was too drunk to help you.

colby regretted that night, he saw your desperation but he couldn’t be there. she wouldn’t let him. he didn’t even know why he continued to see the girl, maybe he thought it was the only way he could ever get over you. but when you stopped texting he thought you were okay now. maybe you didn’t need him after all.

but he was wrong.

your night terrors we’re getting worse, some nights you didn’t sleep at all. you tried all kinds of medication to see if it would relieve your pain. but it didn’t. one night, the dream was bad. worse than it had ever been.

you tried messaging colby, calling him a few times but he wasn’t answering. maybe he was sleeping. whatever it was you’d be okay, you knew you needed to stop being dependent on him. you were a big girl, you had to learn how to deal with your issues.

“hey, kat..” you breathed, picking at your lips. “i know it’s kinda late, but have you heard from colby?” you decided to call up katrina in hopes she could ease your anxiety. “yeah, he said he was going out tonight. a date or something.” “oh..” you hummed, “is everything okay? you sound awful.” she stated. “yeah, i’m good. just needed to tell him something. thanks, kat. i’ll see you soon” you hung up the phone, tossing it on the bed.

why did your heart hurt so much? why did you want to cry your eyes out so badly? you never realized your feeling for colby.

oh god. you loved him. you were in love with colby brock.

no, you couldn’t possibly be in love with him. that’s stupid, you guys were just friends..right? friends took care of each other…friends shared a bed occasionally..right?

you didn’t know how to deal with your feelings, you couldn’t tell him now as he was actively seeing someone or dating. you slowly began to disappear from the picture. maybe if you weren’t around him so much those feelings would slowly fade.

you were wrong.

colby on the other hand was missing you. the date didn’t work out. he wasn’t sure why he even tried dating when he was head over heels for you. maybe he did it not knowing how you felt about him, but now he’s never going to know. you had disappeared, ignoring everyone’s texts and calls. it was very concerning, especially for colby knowing how your night terrors affect your daily life.

everyone started to notice your absence, and it was only a matter of time before sam and katrina persuaded him to finally check in on you.

“you’re the closest to her, colby. it would only make sense if you go” sam argued looking at the brunette boy standing above him. “listen to him, colby” katrina agreed. “guys-“ the girl cut him off. “no, colby. it’s bad. she called me one night when you were out, she sounded like she had been crying. her voice was hoarse. whatever is happening, it’s bad”

that was the push he needed. colby had to see you.

you haven’t slept in a very long time the nightmares have been worse than ever and it has been going on for an unhealthily long time. you look absolutely run down and it’s getting hard to function. some nights you just refused to sleep, it was better to stay awake than to meet the monster occupying your brain. you were sure you had memorized every crack and crevice in your ceiling. you lay lifeless on the sofa, the silence was deafening. you were miserable.

you weren’t sure how long someone was pounding at your door, but you had finally come to your sense and had to answer it. you rose slowly from your position already feeling a migraine forming.

you weren’t expecting to see colby, he was the last person who you thought would show up. “colby..” you uttered.

colby didn’t know what to expect when you opened the door. but, when he saw you he felt sick. your hair was tied up but messy, and your eyes were black and whites bloodshot.

“oh my god y/n…” he croaked, entering your apartment. you sighed, you couldn’t face him. you didn’t want him to see you like this. at your worst. “how much sleep have you been getting?” you shrug, hugging yourself. “an hour” he blinks “a night?” “…this week” the color washed from his face, and he felt dizzy.

he wanted to cry, hold you tightly and apologize for all the pain you’re going through. “why y/n? why are you doing this?” he reached for your shoulder. you reply, “the nightmares are too much. i can’t keep going thru that” he shakes his head, studying you. “why didn’t you tell me?” “i tried, but kat told me you were out on a date and i didn’t want to both you because this is my problem. i need to learn how to go deal with it on my own”

“ y/n l/n, i told you to come to me whenever you were struggling. i care about you.” you finally faced him, you didn’t know what else to say. colby continued, “out of everyone in my life i’ll always care about you most” you feel yourself beginning to tear up, the lady of sleep was taking a toll on your body.

colby gently pulls you into a hug. “i’m so tired. i just want to sleep without being scared” you cry into his chest. he soothes your cries. “you need to sleep, y/n.” you shake your head against his chest, “i cant.” “ill be with you, kay? like old times” he offered, you were reluctant but he lead you to your bedroom and got your bed ready. which hadn’t been slept in for a long while.

your head rested against colby’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. he whispers “i’m sorry. i should’ve been here” “not your fault” you hummed, closing your heavy eyes. he rubbed you back gently, you didn’t know if you were just extremely tired or if your feelings for colby were resurfacing again. “i love you, colby” you paused, “i’m in love with you colby brock.”

colby wasn’t able to get a word in, because when he tried to he noticed how your breathing evened out and you were already fast asleep. his heart was now racing, you loved him? you were in love with him? he smiled to himself, kissing the top of your head. “i love you too, y/n.”

#colby brock x y/n #colby x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock x you #colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock fluff #colby brock angst #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic

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oatmealmika · 1 year ago

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what shows did op characters watch growing up?

feat. luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, chopper, robin, franky, brook, law, ace, and kid

Luffy

i KNOW this mf was a spongebob kid

do not even fucking deny it bro look at him... JUST LOOK AT HIM

Zoro

..... now im not gonna say samurai jack but imma say samurai jack

is it really a kids show? nah. but can i absolutely see zoro hogging the tv for whenever it was on? fuck yeah.

Nami

okay she definitely watched shows WAY to adult for her

got in trouble by bellemere when she walked in on her watching family guy

that or she was a powerpuff girls girl

Usopp

the amazing world of gumball

the humor def matches up

Sanji

CHOWDER !!!!!

will to this day fight someone if they say it's ass

Chopper

courage the cowardly dog

let's be real here...

Robin

teen titans

NOT the ass remake, the old cool one

wanted to be raven fs

that or daria

Franky

ed, edd, n eddy

Brook

the grim adventures of billy and mandy

we saw this coming let's be real

Law

he was a fucking dexters lab kid 💀

he's my bb but don't even fuck with me on this one

Ace

regular show

comfort show fr

Kid

he watched johnny bravo don't even fw me rn !!

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l3viat8an · 2 years ago

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Repost! fluff! and idk if you’ll see this again anon but thank youu 💚💚💚

Asmo; "Come on sweetie~ it'll feel amazing~” Asmo practically sings in your ear as he leads you to his bathtub "Asmo, | just want to sleep..." you mumble half heartedly pulling back to his bed, "I know~ but the bubbles and warm water will feel amazing, so just come on and relax ‘kay?" you sigh, you know he's right so you agree, "Fine, but I want cuddles after." "Deal!" When you get into his bathroom, Asmo helps you out of your clothes and into the tub, you let out another sigh but this time it's a content one "Oh, Asmo this is nice~” "Told you~! So enjoy~"

Mammon; it only takes one text from you, 'Mams, can you get me (thing)? Oh and some pads / tampons plz' and he's off to the store, grabbing everything you asked for, plus a few crappy $5 rom-com movies and some junk food 'n chocolate. Walking straight into your room and setting the bags on your desk as he shows you everything he got "-and that's everything I got! So now ya can spend the next few days with me! Relaxin' after all nothing but the best for my human!" The others do drag you off at some point-

Beel; "I know Mammon already got you some snacks, but, I thought you might want some real food." whether it's homemade or takeaway from Hell's Kitchen, Beel's more then happy to share his food with you! he'll even feed it to you, if you want!

Satan; Picks out your favorite book or one you'd asked him about before and with his back resting against your headboard, reads to you, his left hand absently playing with your hair in-between turning pages~ "Enjoying the book love?" “Mimhhh" you hum contentedly. All while Belphie Is laying on your other side his arms wrapped around you and listening to Satan read. Obviously Belphie is the best living bodypillow ever~ He's just so warm it helps you relax. (Think of Belphie like a demon sized heating pad XD)

Levi; has all your favorite games on standby for ‘emergencies' like this!! "I thought this would help you, uhh not think about the pain and stuff…and well, games are always fun!" extra points if your favorite game is something you two can co-op!

Lucifer; knows it's no picnic constantly being hounded by his brothers, even when they're trying to take care of you. Sometimes peace and quiet is the best thing~ he's even got some over the counter human pain meds if you want them! Plus the softest pillows and blankets ever on his bed~ laying down in his bed and pulling you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead while muttering "Goodnight darling~"

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dollwritesarchive · 2 years ago

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𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭�� 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), ex gf!justice league!reader, yellow lantern!hal, this is a dark fic, noncon, somnophilia, suggested violence against reader, toxic relationship, yandere!hal, hal refers to himself as ‘daddy‘, he’s delusional oops, sinestro co-op, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ requested by anonymous. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

you would be so pissed at Hal right now.

he knew that, but he couldn’t force himself to feel any shame for the way he scooped you up, holding you tight as you crumbled towards the ground. he was hugging you, the way he really wanted to when he’d first heard you call out for him.

but you hadn’t sounded happy to see him. when your eyes coruscated over the yellow suit he donned, your brows knit together, your eyes narrowed. you were disgusted. appalled. you hated him in that color; the color of pure fear.

you were going to get that ring off of him, even if it meant you had to beat him down in the process. or, at least, that’s what you said. however, Hal had years more of experience in hand to hand combat, and the ability to create a construct of anything that he wanted to use against you. not to mention all the times he’d sparred with you. it was never his intention to learn all your tricks and how to counter them, but now he was thankful he had.

“Sure am glad you found me.” he whispers, burying his face in your hair as he doubled over, holding your midsection tight. you were unconscious from the knock to your head, inflicted by no other than your ex lover who now held you so tenderly, so you droop backwards, your head lolling towards the ground. when he pulls back to look at your features, he breathes a sigh of relief when he traces your softened countenance with his fingers. you no longer looked angry with him, you were no longer disgusted by his newfound power in fear. “Saved me the trouble of tracking you down, having to fight the rest of the Justice League to take you back with me, the whole shebang. I didn’t want to kill any of them, but they wouldn’t have just let me take you. I would’ve had to.” unable to resist his deepest, darkest urge to do so, he leans forward and allows the weight of his lips to press against yours. you don’t kiss him back, and he can accept that for now, because he’d missed the taste of your mouth so much. “But you came back…” his words were muffled as he dragged his lips over your mouth, prying it open with his tongue so he can taste the inside. “You came back to me.”

that was when Hal finally dug his knees into the dirt, hauling your body down with him, slowly laying you down. your figure is mostly on its side, though turned at your midriff so he can look at your face, with both of your shoulders against the hard ground. “You still look just like an angel when you’re sleeping.” he muttered, tracing your lips with his fingertips. his breath caught in his throat, staring at them. they weren’t nearly swollen enough, like they used to be when he’d kiss you hard. even towards the end, when he started to turn and you’d begun to resist him, he still always left your tiers pouty.

“It’s been so long,” he breathes out, cradling your face in one hand as he leans over you to kiss you again. he simply couldn’t stop. “So long since you were soft and obedient like this. I missed it.”

as Hal started to lose his way, you’d began to try and distance yourself from him. you knew that he was changing, and you knew that it was into nothing but darkness. but you didn’t know how to help him or how to stop it; you’d hoped the other members of the Justice League would, but he wouldn’t talk to any of them. he only wanted you. you’d even tried once to tell him that you didn’t want to be with him anymore, but he hadn’t taken the news well, slapping a construct collar around your neck to emphasize how you were bound to him, whether you wanted to be or not.

he’d scared you.

and now, here he was. a yellow lantern. the pinnacle of fear. wielding it like a ferocious, flaming weapon.

“But you’ll be a good girl for me now… won’t you?” from your lips down to your neck, his open mouth attacks you in needy kisses, bites, and sucking. he knew every portion of your body, what areas he could kiss to make you swoon, he only wished he could hear it now— the soft whisper of his name when he flustered you. he was thinking about all the times you’d said his name, and he couldn’t help the moan that vibrates against your throat. “You have to.”

Hal had forgotten just how addicted to you that he was since his time in the Sinestro Corps. he’d been focused on his duties as a Yellow Lantern, and Sinestro didn’t allow too much time for his second in command’s mind to wander. he had, however, granted Hal the permission to take you by force. but only when the time was right. luckily, for Hal at least, you’d shown up, in search of him and hopeful to pull him from Sinestro’s side. you’d fallen right into his lap; he always knew it was meant to be.

“God, I missed you…” he was babbling, both of his hands prying at your top, unzipping it as he wrenches it back to expose your bare breasts. his mouth wasn’t far behind, taking one inside, he sucked on your nipple and groaned to himself. he had a thick, hard erection rubbing against the backs of your thighs that needed to be tended to. he wanted you to be awake, to moan for him to fuck you like you used to, but right now, he would have to make due with what he had. your suit’s zipper catches at your waist, and Hal’s hands and mouth are much too occupied with squeezing and kissing your breasts to continue undressing you, so the topaz flare of his power oozes out from his ring to create another set of hands, a pair that finishes the task of pulling your clothes off until you’re completely nude on your side underneath him. then, his power dissipates. he could’ve, just as easily, used it to position you how he wanted to take you, but he couldn’t keep his focus long enough. “Fuck, I need you, baby. I need you right now.” his hands were already working, one between your legs, priming your sex to life, and the other to get his cock free from his suit.

his fingers delve into you, prodding along your canal. regardless of your unconscious state, your walls flutter about his fingers as if welcoming him home, and he closes his eyes, biting down on his lip. “You missed me too, I can feel it. So wet already…” he croons, probing deeper, “Don’t you worry, baby, daddy’s home, and he’s never letting you leave his sight again.” his other hand was pumping his recently liberated prick, mighty and jabbing upwards towards his belly, and when he retrieved his fingers from inside you, he marveled at the webs of slick that clung to them, coating his member in your shine. he shudders, giving the swollen tip a final squeeze, running his thumb against the sensitive slit. he’d been left to please himself for too long, his own touch could no longer electrify him, not like he knew your cunt, inches from him, could.

“You might hate me for this at first.” he mutters, grasping your thigh with one hand, pushing it upwards so your knee bent more, grazing your belly, to reveal your treasure to him. the other directed his tool to it, splitting your netherlips without so much as a moment’s hesitation. usually, he would tease you, rub the head of his cock along your folds, but that had always been to watch you squirm and mewl and beg for him to stop teasing. all he really wanted was to dive into you, as deep and hard as he could. bury himself there. so, this time, he does. he plunges in deep, and bottoms out hard. “It’s gonna hurt when you wake up,” but he doesn’t stop, he can’t. your walls spasm and struggle to stretch around his forceful girth, but he grabs your leg with both, massive hands and jerks your body back to ram into it. “A lot.” he’s already panting, pounding you so violently that your entire body ripples against his thrusting, your head dragging along the ground. you make a little sound, as if you might come around soon, your eyes rolling behind closed lids.

“But, just give it time, baby girl. You’ll start to like the pain.”

his moans turn to growls, fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thigh, bruising the delicate skin as he drills himself home, past your sweet spots, to batter the entry of your cervix with relentless and cruel bucking, over and over again. “Fuck, you feel good,” one hand trails up to grab your face and turn it back towards him; he wished you’d open your eyes so he could see the shock on your face when he bumped against your cervix. you didn’t, and he squeezes your cheeks, hollowing them. he may have done it out of frustration, that he can’t hear you whimper for him, or maybe it was just pent up anger at you for pushing him away. “Too good…”

“‘S too tight! Too warm!”

he was already close.

“You’re gonna make me cum right now, baby girl.” it was uttered in bemusement, amazed that he wasn’t the marathoner he used to be. the two of you would go round after round of lovemaking until neither of you could move an inch, and you were holding on to him for dear life. but he wasn’t making love to you, not like he used to.

Hal was fucking you. brutally. primally.

“I wanna give it to you so bad, wanna fi— fill you up so fuckin’ full!” his breathing ragged, he pats your cheek as he lays your face back down against the dirt on the ground and allows his fingers to roam; they hesitate for a moment near your throat. he throbs with delight at the thought of wrapping his fist around it, but he wanted you to be awake for that. he wanted to hear the sounds you made when he held you down and choked you; he’d be sure to play with your sensitive clit at the same time, so he could show you how to cum while he hurt you.

instead, he presses his palm against your chest, smashing your breast in the process, to keep you pinned in place for him to rut like a beast. “Close,” he grunts, his jaw drawn taut. “So— so close… take it for me, baby, take it!”

he hadn’t given you a choice.

with a string of desperate grunts and snorts, Hal buried himself in your belly as he came, hunching over to kiss your slack mouth, moaning your name over and over as he starts to come down. you were whimpering in your sleep state, probably on the cusp of waking up— no doubt the discomfort following such a rough romp would seep into your subconscious and draw you out of it. but the sounds you made only made it that much harder for him to want to pull out of you.

he does so, albeit begrudgingly, telling himself that there would be plenty more opportunity to have you how he needed. besides, he was spent after violating you in all the ways he’d dreamt of, without your voice to cry for him to stop. dilated eyes trailing along your body, he could already see the sections of flesh that would be littered with darker bruising in the coming days, and the way his cum leaked from your quivering sex was almost too sordid for him to bear without shoving himself inside you again.

tucking himself away, back into his golden uniform, he’s busy with those construct hands, reaching for your suit to dress you again.

“Leave it,” it was Sinestro’s voice, and it was then that Hal realized his superior was leaning against an outcropped rock nearby. “Wouldn’t want her thinking she’s still a superhero, now would we?”

Hal frowned, looking from him to your naked body. “She doesn’t have anything else to wear.” he muttered; it was a moment of the true Hal shining through the power of the wicked ring on his finger.

“And if she’s a good girl for you, you’ll gift her with clothes.” Sinestro floats closer, the tips of his toes barely treading the dirt before he claps a hand on Hal’s shoulder, as if reminding him who he was now. “She has to earn the right to wear them. By pleasing her master. If you give a pet too much freedom, it’s only a matter of time before they run away, right?”

“Right.” Hal muttered, his features hardening again. the constructs melt into an altogether, different shape. an oversized box, one that resembled the way a Barbie might be packaged. it envelops you, golden twist ties wrapping around your wrists and ankles and locking you in place, a transparent sheet of construct sliding into place to lock you in the box. “I can’t give her too much freedom. Or she’ll try to run away from me.”

“You know the way to control her, don’t you, Hal Jordan?”

“… With fear.”

“Very good.” Sinestro hums, admiring the craftsmanship of his favored soldier, and gives his shoulder a firm pat. “If the Justice League comes for her, we’ll let her watch our army cut them down. But for now, take the time and enjoy her.”

your eyelids flutter, groaning as you start to come around. your head is throbbing, and you feel like you’ve been donkey kicked in the gut. not to mention the sickening feeling of something all too familiar oozing out of you. your head rolls around against your shoulders as you squint. “H—Hal? What did you—“ you jerk your arms, but the power holds them in place at your sides, posing you like a doll on the shelf. “What did you do?!”

but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out, when you look down to realize you’re naked and sore.

“Hal… oh, god, Hal…”

Sinestro is watching with his arms folded over his chest, and when you catch sight of him, you grimace with disgust. “Take back your fucking ring and this monster you created. Give me my Hal back!” squirming in your golden cell, you scream it at the top of your lungs.

Sinestro chuckles, shaking his head. “‘Your Hal’? Oh, love, this is your Hal. He can take the ring off any time he wants to. The problem is, that he just would rather have the power that it can give him. I’m the only one that will sanction his desire to own you.”

Hal gets to his feet, and takes a few, slow steps up to the box you’re trapped in, pressing his hand against it. he doesn’t seem to be listening to the banter, nor does he care. because he’s staring at you, fondly, as if admiring a piece of art.

“Hal… please…”

“You won’t ever leave me again, I’ll make sure of it.”

#hal jordan x reader #hal jordan imagine #hal jordan x you #hal jordan smut #hal jordan #green lantern imagine #green lantern smut #green lantern x reader #green lantern x you #green lantern #yellow lantern #dark!dc #Dark!dc comics #dc #dc comics x reader #dc comics smut #dc smut #dc x reader #dc x you

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amikoroyaiart · 5 days ago

Note

So the op of the repost has been deactivated, so now the only way people can keep reblogging it/giving it notes is if you keep up your reblog of it 👍🏻 (there was someone who reblogged it from you too, so maybe ask them to delete their reblog?? And then I think it’ll like…. Be stuck in limbo/be gone or something I’m not exactly sure how that works tbh.)

The evil has been defeated 🥰

Thank you for letting me know!

And a friendly reminder to not repost my art (reblogs are ok, you reblog a post made by me. I am not ok with you creating a new post with my art). I already post here, on Instagram and Twitter. Sharing links to my posts on Discord is fine too!

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minniesmutt · 8 months ago

Text

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MENTION OF FOOD, DRINKING, UNESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, CURSING, ORAL [ M. REC], PUBLIC SETTING, IMPLIED MORE ☾ ━━━ WC: 1.4K ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog ☾ ━━━ a repost from my old blog

Y/n was not a morning person, at all. She hated waking up early in the morning. Thankful for her later shifts at the shop. She rubbed her eyes and looked around her room. No physical sign of Changbin but she heard some noise in her kitchen. She grabbed his shirt from last night, throwing it on before heading out of the room.

Changbin saw her come around the corner and offered her a smile. “Hope you don’t mind I took over your kitchen.”

“‘S fine. More surprised you’re still here,” Y/n said as she hopped onto her counter.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Not a lot of guys do in my experience.” Y/n shrugged and he walked over and stood between her legs

“You just hook up with dicks that can’t get you off,” He said, wrapping his arms around her waist, “Plus it would make things awkward at work I think.”

“True. Might be a bit awkward that I’ve fucked the boss,” Y/n sighed

“No one’s going to care. Our last receptionist was sleeping with an artist that left and none of us batted an eye.” Changbin shrugged

“What happened with them?”

“He went to a different shop closer to his home and she got her dream job. Don’t think they’re still together though.”

“Huh, good for them.” Y/n smiled.

Changbin went back to cooking them breakfast as Y/n made them some coffee. The two sat and ate before Changbin got dressed and left. Y/n reluctantly gave him his shirt back so he could leave. But he promised to text her later and he’d see her at the shop. Y/n saw him off and cleaned up her apartment. Having some chores and errands to get done while she had time off.

Changbin did make good on his promise of texting her later. Just a casual check-up to see how she was doing and remind her to eat turned into random conversations. Genuinely getting to know each other. Y/n sat down on her couch, smiling at her phone before one of her girlfriends texted her, asking if she wanted to have a movie night. Y/n couldn’t say no to that and took a quick shower put on some pajamas and headed to her friend’s place.

“Hey,” the girl greeted her friend

“Hey,” Y/n smiled

The two sat on the couch with food and drinks and tried to find something to watch. Finally deciding on something after what seemed like forever, Y/n looked at her phone.

“Don’t tell me fuck face texted you,” Her friend sighed

“No, I told him to fuck off. Someone else,” Y/n said as she picked up her phone to answer the text.

“Thank god. Who’s the new guy?” She asked as the movie started

“It’s my boss,” Y/n said

“So not a new hook-up?”

“We went out last night and then slept together.”

“You fucked your boss?!”

“Yes, and it was good.”

“Did you cum?”

“Twice.”

“Damn, he got friends?”

“Probably, haven’t seen them,” Y/n shrugged, “But he even cleaned up and stayed the night, plus cooked me breakfast this morning.”

“I know you aren’t looking for a relationship and you’re just looking for casual, but you better at least be loyal to his dick.”

“We’ll see. We do work together so we at least see each other.”

Y/n, let him know that she was hanging out with a friend and she’d text him later. Changbin told her to have fun and text him if she needed anything. Y/n smiled as she focused on the movie with her friend. She didn’t think much of her conversation with her friend, even when she went to work with Changbin a couple of days later. Maybe it was because they had been texting since the morning after but everything was normal.

Y/n sat at her desk, joking with the other artists who worked more in the open and not in rooms like Changbin. Everyone waiting around for their clients, some taking off early because of cancellations or lack of appointments. Usual things in their industry.

Changbin finished with his last client just before closing. Everyone else was cleaning up and walking out for the night as Y/n checked them out. She checked the time after they left and saw there were still a few minutes till the shop officially closed. She based the time doing the smaller front-end tasks before turning the open sign off and locking the door.

Changbin walked out of his room and sat down in the other chair behind the desk.

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Y/n told him as she moved to close the register.

“You wait for me when I’m running behind. Plus it’s late. You know I’m not letting you walk to your car in the dark,” Changbin told her.

“Fair,” Y/n shrugged, “You’re in the way of the safe though.”

“Make it work,” he teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him and double-checked her money count before taking the tray and turning to Changbin. She gently pushed the rolley chair out of the way and opened the safe. She put the tray and worked on the deposit before putting that in there too. She made sure everything was locked up before moving to grab her things. Just for Changbin to grab her wrist and pull her onto his lap.

“Hey,” she smiled

“Hey,” he smiled back as she adjusted to straddle him.

They didn’t have a title to define themselves. They had talked about it but neither of them was looking for anything serious at the moment. Just not having time for a serious relationship, they decided to hook up since they both enjoyed the other night.

“You look good taking care of my shop,” Changbin said and rubbed her sides.

“That’s why you insisted on staying with me?” She asked

“Partially.”

Y/n licked her lips before pressing her lips onto his. Changbin returned the vigor of the kiss as his hands grabbed her ass and pulled her against him more. Y/n rolled her hips into his making him moan into the kiss. “I don’t have any condoms, baby,” Changbin panted between kisses

“Little oral never hurt anyone,” Y/n replied

She got off his lap and sunk to her knees between him. Changbin helped her unbutton his jeans and pull his cock out. Y/n smiled, wrapping her hand around him and slowly pumping him till he was fully hard.

Changbin rested back against the chair as her lips kissed up and down his length. Those pretty lips wrapping around his cock. Moaning as she took him further in his mouth. Moving up and down, dick wet with her spit.

The tattoo artist looked down at her, gently grabbing the back of her head—more for his comfort. Grabbing at the roots of her hair as she swallowed him. She took him down her throat while her hand moved to massage his balls.

“Fuck,” Changbin groaned, tilting his head back.

The shop was damn near silent except for the noise of her blowing him. He grabbed the back of her head as she took him into her throat. His jaw dropped open before she pulled off and pumped him with his hand.

“Can you do that again?” Changbin asked as he looked down at her

“Like me deepthroating you?” Y/n smiled at him

“Fuck yeah.”

Y/n smiled wrapped her lips around him and repeated her actions. She was bobbing her head up and down on him while massaging his balls.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Changbin moaned as his grip on her hair tightened then she swallowed him again and he was a goner.

Hips bucking up into her mouth as his cum flooded her mouth. Y/n moaned around him and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Letting him ride out his orgasm till his cum stopped flooding her mouth. Pulling off when she was sure he was done and his grip loosened on her hair.

Y/n sat back on her heels and swallowed his load. “Feel better?” Y/n asked, grabbing his thighs to help herself up off the ground.

“Yeah,” Changbin sighed as he grabbed a tissue to clean up his dick and stuff himself back in his pants.

Changbin got up and kissed her lips again, “Come back to mine and let me return the favor?” He suggested as he wrapped an arm around her.

“Mhm, you got a condom at yours?” Y/n asked

“Yeah.”

Y/n smiled, “Let’s go.”

The two grabbed their bags and headed out to their cars and Y/n followed Changbin back to his place. Both were eager a little bit to have a repeat of the other night.

☾ ━━━━━━ ⇠prev | m.list | next⇢

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

#☾━━━━ [𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒]#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 my art piece {changbin x reader}#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader smut

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rosewaterandivy · 5 months ago

Text

Through Me Prequel - iii. justice

Summary: The world is of but men and beasts, and you cower to none.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader, Steddie x fem!reader

WC: 8.5k

Warnings/Themes: cursing, criticism of religion (catholicism/xtiantiy mostly), religious themes, canon-typical violence, death, idolatry via smut, blasphemy, heretical notions, angst, occasional fluff (as a treat), Biblical & western literary canon and media references/allusions

A/N: This is the last of three prequels centering on the three main characters. This has been in the works since last July, oh my GOD!!! 👀 Thanks to my loves @jo-harrington @powderblueblood and @big-ope-vibes for letting me prattle on about this! 💜

Please do not interact if you aren't 18+.

Nota bene: Reblogging, commenting, and liking my work is always appreciated; reposting, however, is not. This (*) is a singal to check the footnote at the end!

Enjoy! 💜

Masterlist | Playlist | Currently Spinning:

"How lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill."

— Jeremy Radin

Wednesday, July 3, 1985

You are a weapon.

Salvation is an aptly named town, all things considered.

Unfortunate for this particular demon possessing the preacher, however.

After clearing the room, you inspect the various holy icons in the light streaming through the dirty window. A thrash and hiss from the man strapped to the bed as you happen upon a particular amulet tells you everything you need to know.

You step away from the window and onto the bed, kneeling over the preacher as his head rolls back, avoiding your gaze. Lowering yourself to speak directly to the demon in question, you greet, “Hi, I’m Constantine.”

A growl in response.

“I know, I know. My reputation precedes me.”

And press the amulet to his forehead, watching as it sizzles against the skin. Your free hand settles against his chest in an attempt to stabilize the man as the demon thrashes, screeches, and shakes in his body.

Muttering incantations under your breath as his wife looks on from the doorway with her Bible, thumbing worrying over the golden cross strung around her neck. You begin the prayer anew and wait for the mortal flesh to admit defeat, a human, after all, can only take so much. Finally, the body gives in and the thrashing subsides— the preacher unconscious for the time being.

Inspecting the lax body, you lean closer following the subtle movement of his breathing. The visible blue veins of his neck bulging slightly before the demonic form rears up from his throat with teeth bared.

Dropping the keyring of amulets from your hand, you land a punch directly to its gaping maw, regretting having left the gold knuckles in the impala. Shaking out your hand to alleviate the sting, you turn to the wife. “I need a mirror.”

She just stares at you, tears falling down her sunken face.

“A mirror,” You reiterate, “At least three feet high. Move! Go now!”

A few parishioners scurry off in search of a mirror. You jump from the bed and rifle through your bag by the door. Once you’ve grabbed a rope, you toss it on the bed.

“Sorry about the window,” You say to the wife as you grab a chair and break through the glass. Chunks of it fall to the ground from the second storey, a few grazing the trunk of the impala.

You string the rope through the far grate of the fire escape above and crawl back through the window, very much regretting parking so close to the scene today.

Some people return with the mirror after you’ve rotated the bed to face the now broken window. Straddling the prone preacher once more, you grab both ends of the rope and have them raise the mirror above the bed.

“Tie this onto the bottom of it.” You give one end of it to the woman to your left. Turning to your right, you give an older man the other end. “Loop this over the top, on my signal pull.”

He nods, doing as you ask and taking his position at the head of the bed, rope in hand.

To everyone else, “And whatever happens,” You lower your palm to cover the preacher’s eyes, the demon awake and glowering. “Don’t look.”

Palm covering the preacher’s eyes, you begin chanting in a litany of tongues— Latin, Hebrew, Enochian. The growling and thrashing begins anew, the demon not wanting to be ousted from its host. Everything is going according to plan when,

“Holy shit!”

A corner of the mirror comes falling toward you as a man backs away from the bedside, his hair rapidly graying and eventually turning white. His back hits the wall just as you secure the mirror with your arm, allowing the demon enough leverage to go for your throat.

Hand crushed to your windpipe, you let go of the mirror hoping it’ll hold as you grab the preacher’s wrist.

Clearly, no one can be bothered to follow directions anymore. And as much as you try to do your job without tapping into divine intuition, at times it can’t be helped.

Right now, for instance.

Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you relax and allow yourself to sink into your true nature. It’s a risk, the full might of a celestial body against a mortal is no contest. And you’d hate to accidentally injure or, god forbid, kill the guy.

One hand on his wrist at your throat, the other pressing against his chest you open your eyes. The demon caterwauls for respite— the ethereal light burning against its skin, sizzling and crackling.

Using just enough of your power, you get a palm over his eyes again and maneuver the preacher so the demon could reveal itself. It’s invigorating, the thrum as it rushes through you— replenishing the depleted reserves of power in this finite form.

With a blink, divinity slips back to its slumber. Tucked neatly beneath the cage of your ribs, a warmth emanates from it, contented to be of use. But all too alluring, and you can’t become reliant on it.

Not again.

“Smile pretty, you ugly son of a bitch.” You say, taking your hand from his eyes and tilting to the side so the demon has a clear view of the mirror behind you.

It lurches from the man’s throat and lands with a thunk in the mirror’s reflection. The preacher, reeling from the remnants of possession, gazes into the reflection, eyes gone black and smiling widely.

You glance back, to see that the demon is stuck within the mirror. It hisses lowly in response. “Ugh,” With a roll of your eyes, you flip it off. “For your boss.”

Turning back to the man holding the rope, you say, “Pull it!”

He heaves with the effort; the mirror getting stuck against the window frame while the demon pounds at the glass containing it.

Shit.

Rising from the bed, you take the rope from him and give it a tug. When it doesn’t budge from its position, you walk and take the place of the man, placing one foot against the metal bedframe quickly followed by the other and leaning back.

As you tug against the rope while the trapped demon continues to punch its way out, you pull your body upward and climb your hands along it, nearly parallel to the floor at this point. The bed lurches against the floor with a metallic sounding groan.

The wood of the window frame begins to bow against the pressure. With one last forceful pull, it finally gives and sends the mirror careening through the window. Which lands you directly on the floor. You fall to your back with a thud, head knocking against the wooden planks.

The preacher’s wife rushes to the bedside, stepping on you in her haste. From your position on the ground, you listen for a sign that the demon has either escaped or the mirror has held it and shattered against the pavement.

Or your car.

You really hope it’s not your car.

There’s the sound of shattering glass from below, just as the preacher breathes in erratically and opens his eyes.

“Oh, John, you’re okay!” His wife sobs, “Thank God!”

You snort and slowly sit back up, rolling your sore neck and shoulders.

Right, thanks be to He.

Thursday, July 4, 1985

You are aching.

It’s what rouses you from sleep. Car pulled on to the shoulder of a county road somewhere between Salvation and Hawkins. Illinois, if you had to guess— farm land and cornfields as far as the eye could see.

You don’t feel pain, generally speaking, you don’t wound or scar. But none of that explains the chasm in your chest, like something cleaved it open and scooped out your guts. It makes you restless, skin itching as if it's been pulled too tight.

Sitting up, you don’t feel any better.

Back in the driver’s seat, you consult the crumpled map under the light from the dome lamp and decide to drive on what little rest you’d managed to get.

Not that you rest, per se. Recharge is more accurate.

After the engine turns over, you shift the car into gear and pull back onto the road as Creedence Clearwater Revival streams through the speakers.

One hand on the wheel as the other hangs from the window, catching the late night breeze. Heart squeezing inside the chamber of your chest. Hurt radiating from the fissure outward and flooding your veins.

Foot pressing more forcefully on the gas than you’d intended, car picking up speed on this lonely stretch of highway. If only you could just put your finger on it, what’s causing this uncomfortable and foreign sensation— you can taste it on the tip of your tongue, like ash and smoke.

A couple hours later, you turn on the familiar road driving past the ‘Welcome to Hawkins!’ sign. It takes you toward the new mall, awash with flashing red and blue lights.

“Oh, fuck.”

Taking a hard right you pull into the parking lot and kill the engine. Rifling through the glove box you finally find the gold badge you need and reach an arm into the backseat, searching for the slippery feel of a nylon jacket.

Slamming the car door and stowing the badge, you spot a familiar crop of curls hidden under a Camp Know Where hat.

“Henderson!”

He turns back immediately, eyes blowing wide at the sight of you. Hesitant to leave his post near an ambulance, you make your way toward him as you shrug on the jacket and pocket a walkie-talkie that had somehow wound up in your car.

“I knew you weren’t just a camp counselor,” He says with relief and hugs you tight, arms squeezing you around the waist.

Hand at the base of his head, feeling and looking for any injuries, you smile and pull him back to continue assessing. Satisfied that Dustin is safe, you crouch down to his level to ask, “Wanna tell me what you’re doing here?”

He doesn’t immediately respond. Casts his eyes to the pavement and kicks at some stray gravel, “Was just visiting Steve at work s’all…”

Your heart nearly leaps from your chest.

Steve.

Eyes cutting to the ambulance, you take a breath and school your features into something placid.

“Was he—”

“He’s fine, I think,” Dustin is quick to say, “At least, that’s what the paramedic said. Wouldn’t tell me more because I’m not family.” He glances to you again, concerned. “He took care of us, made sure we were safe.”

“That’s… good.” You sigh, scrub a hand down your face. “I’m glad kept you safe buddy.”

Slowly, you stand back up fingers grazing the gold badge at your hip. Running a hand through your hair, you address Dustin, “Does your mom know where you are?”

“Uh,” He flushes a deep pink. “Not exactly.”

“Right, come with me then.”

Weaving through the crowd of people assembled, you walk Dustin in front of you, hands on his shoulders, back to the ambulance. The paramedic leans against the side of it, looking toward the mall.

“Let me do the talking,” You say lowly. He nods and comes to a halt at the side of the vehicle.

A beleaguered paramedic greets you. “Kid, I told you already. You’re not fam—”

You cut him off in a brusque tone, flashing the badge at your hip. “Special Agent Constantine, FBI.”

That shuts him up.

“I understand you have one Steve Harrington in your care, is that correct?”

He nods, dumbly.

“And is it a habit of yours to linger at the scene of a crime when a patient in your care needs immediate medical attention?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I thought as much. You are going to take him,” You push Dustin forward, “And Mr. Harrington directly to the hospital.”

Dustin looks a little too smug at the dressing down you’re giving the paramedic.

“Once there, Dustin will be contacting his mother and you will see to it that Harrington receives the tests and treatment he requires.”

He nods and opens to the cab of the ambulance to let Dustin in.

Momentarily calm in the knowledge that Steve will be fine at the hospital, and that you’ll see him later, you quell the inferno raging in your chest. And dust your palms against your slacks in an effort to stop yourself from slipping into something more than human.

But just barely.

This fucking night.

You shut the door of the cab, arm leaning on the windowsill. “I’ll check on you at the hospital once I’m done here, alright?”

“He really is fine, you know,” Dustin says. “A little banged up, s’all.”

“I’m sure he is,” You agree. “Now—”

“Do you want me to give him a message?”

“Uh.”

“I know you went on that date,” He blurts out. “And Steve has been mumbling about this girl off and on so, I just put two and two together.”

“What?”

Dustin balks. “Oh,” He pauses in thought. “I just assumed it was about you.”

“Huh, okay.” You take a breath, try to give him a reassuring smile. “Tell Steve I had to go to work and I’ll try to not do anything stupid while he’s gone.”

Whatever Dustin was about to say is cut off as the engine to the ambulance turns over, red and blue lights flashing as it pulls out of the parking lot.

The badge does most of the talking, you’ve found, in situations such as this. After speaking with Hawkins PD and the United States military officers, you know that Starcourt served as a Russian cell for scientific experimentation and espionage. A fire broke out from an explosion in the subterranean bunker, and there was a carcass of some kind in the food court.

“We’re working to identify it now, Special Agent,” The officer reports, exhaustion evident in his voice. “But if you’d like to go in ahead of your team, we’d welcome the extra help.”

You nod, spying a familiar face in the crowd. Murray’s comforting a sobbing woman as the mall burns, but the expression on his face is reserved solely for you— confusion and disbelief, before it quickly devolves into blind fury.

“I’d be happy to help,” You say to the officer, “Let me alert the team and I’ll be back to suit up.”

Murray hasn’t left the bereaved woman yet. Blending in with the crowd, you grab the walkie from your back pocket and hold it against your mouth, as if you’re talking into it, and stand at his back.

“You’re not supposed to be here, kid,” He says over his shoulder.

“Finished up early, also? Not a kid,” You reply. “Rumor has it, I’m a world-class bad ass and good at my job.”

He snorts, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” His hand rubs soothing circles on the woman’s back, her sobs are beginning to subside from exhaustion more than alleviated grief. “But you still shouldn’t be here.”

“In your professional opinion? Or—”

“Your boss has made it crystal clear that you’re not to be involved.”

You pause, considering the information.

Jobs had dried up for the most part over the past few weeks, Murray would throw you a line every now and again, all easy and quick gigs, generally things deemed well below your pay grade. The recent exorcism being an exception.

With a lack of jobs, and no messages from on high, you’d been left to your own devices. Crashing with Steve or hanging out with Eddie and keeping an ear to the ground for any news of relics or artifacts.

“Well, I’m involved now.”

“Mmm,” He hums, arches a knowing eyebrow. “Didn’t say you were shacked up with Harrington either.”

You sigh, “Didn’t realize you were such a gossip.”

“Didn’t realize you were getting sloppy.”

The walkie in your hand crackles to life before you can hiss out a reply.

“Constantine, do you copy? Over.”

An apologetic shrug to Murray as you press the call button. “Yes, Dustin, I copy.”

The woman Murray’s been comforting lifts her head, “Constan— That’s her?”

You turn back, curious. “That’s me.”

Murray looks just as perplexed as you do. The woman sniffs, pulls back from where she’d been sobbing into his chest. “The kids— Steve, he said—”

But you never figure out what it was Steve had said, because the officer has flagged you down and waves you over to suit up and head in to the scene.

“Sorry ma’am, but I have to go.” Murray can surely smooth that over and just fill you in later.

You turn back toward the military tent and radio back to Dustin. “I’m about to head into the mall, buddy. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” You step into the tent, “Stay with Steve. Over.”

The hazmat suit is ready for you, another officer at the ready to assist. You shuck your FBI jacket onto a nearby chair.

“Don’t do it.”

You look to the walkie in your hand, shocked.

Because it’s not the rushed intonation of Dustin’s voice sounding through the speaker. It’s Steve. Not his usual pep and cadence, but him nonetheless.

“I’ll be fine,” You assure him, and you will be. You always are, but he doesn’t necessarily know that just yet.

Or at least he shouldn’t. You hadn’t had that conversation yet.

“C’mon angel,” He sounds tired, as if the act of speaking is beyond his capabilities.

“In and out, no problems,” You say, stepping into the suit at your feet. “I’ll be there in no time, promise.”

“... Okay. Be careful.”

You smile against the speaker, slipping a free arm into the suit. “I’ve seen worse, Steve. Over and out.”

Passing the walkie to another officer who places it with your jacket, you slip your other arm into the suit, duck your head as they place the SCBA over your face and zip you up.

A new radio has been supplied for you and the rest of the team going in. As you turn to leave the tent and enter the scene, Dustin’s voice comes through the walkie on the chair.

“I knew it!” He crows, “I knew you were his angel!”

“Dustin,” Steve scolds, words slurring, “Knock it off man, she’s working.”

Dustin and whom you can only presume to be Mrs. Henderson are slumped on the chairs in Steve’s room at the hospital, completely passed out. Tiptoeing in, mindful not to wake them, you perch at the foot of the bed.

Steve is sleeping, chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. The hum and beeping of the machines are the only sounds in the room. He looks awful, his left eye beaten black and swollen up with blood, hip lip split and bleeding. They’d cleaned him up and bandaged what they’d could, according to the attending nurse.

All that’s left to do was for him to heal and rest. The tests would come back tomorrow, there was a concern for head trauma— a concussion, but he should be discharged the next morning.

You thumb at the jewelry on your left hand, unused to the ornamentation. Figured the easiest con was to pass yourself off as newlyweds, allowing you to sign his discharge papers and take him home when the time came.

“That’s new,” He rasps, head lolling to the side as he looks at you. “Who’s the lucky man?”

You crack a smile, “Oh, just some guy. Don’t worry, he treats me real nice.”

“He better,” His hand falls to your leg, grasping your thigh. “If he knows what’s good for him.”

It’s new, this thing between the two of you. Too soon to put any sort of name to it, and this is certainly not the time, nor the place. His thumb traces patterns against your thigh, nail scraping against the fabric every so often. You remind Steve that he should be resting right now and he tells you the same.

“Counter offer,” He says when you won’t budge, “I’ll rest if you lay down with me.”

It’s easy to grant his request. Slow hands smooth away the hair from his forehead, slides the sheet off his damp shoulders, growing warm with perspiration. You have to be delicate. Don’t want to startle him any more than he already is.

“Glad you’re here.” He says, hooking one hand under your back and turning you over until his front touches yours. You place your chin on top of his head, press kisses to his hair. Your hand grips his in the dim light, letting him know that wherever you are, his words are reaching. He squeezes back gently, head settling against your chest.

A sniffle. A shudder. A shiver as goosebumps break across his arms. Steve’s not entirely awake anymore— eyes sliding back shut, sleep’s grip too strongly clamped down. It had been an exhausting few days— rigorous missions heavy on your mind and body, torture and drug-induced interrogations wreaking havoc on his.

A tug to pull the covers up, encasing his body inside the cocoon and kissing his brow. Tender. Sweet. Pouring what little claim you had to a soul into it. Not even a week with Steve, and it’s mended the cracks inside you, pieced you back together better than before.

It’s gone past midnight now. Somewhere inside the second hand of liminality— not quite sleep and not totally awake, the weight atop your chest leaves. Where it was once perched and heavy, crowding the breath inside your lungs, choking the peace from your brain.

“Everyone sleeps.”

He sounds worried— but you’re not quite sure. He sounds far away.

You lean closer and close your eyes. “Evil doesn’t sleep, Steve… And neither do I— or so they say.”

“Hush.” There’s no bite in his retort. Only a breath of a laugh.

You sigh, the weight of the week taking over suddenly now that he’s near. Something about him. Soothing. Soft fabric settles over your shoulders and wraps around your arms. Then, a hold. Secure. Safe.

Warm, like a fire. Tender, like a lover.

“C’mere, honey.” Deep. Low timbre and sonorous. It runs up your spine and beckons oblivion.

There is darkness and a soft touches. He’s blue and gold in the dim light, holding you by the hand. A stroke of a finger across your cheek. “Even angels rest.”

October 11 1985

The impala idles in the Hawkins High parking lot as you wait for Eddie. It’s a Hellfire night, so you’ve brought a well-worn paperback to pass the time. The van is out of commission currently, waiting for parts to come in at the body shop. And Steve’s working the closing shift tonight with Robin. Thumbing the pages, you turn to a dog-eared page and begin to read.

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood

Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather

The multitudinous seas incarnadine,

Making the green one red.

“Psh, get in line buddy,” You scoff, so taken with Macbeth’s unraveling, that you didn’t even see the double doors of the school burst open, the Hellfire members streaming forth.

Eddie saunters over with Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair in tow, chain clinking against his thigh rhythmically. Head turning at the sound, your lip curls into a smile as he opens the door and slides in the passenger seat.

“Hi,” He greets, hand falling to rest against your thigh while the kids pile into the backseat. “D’you mind dropping the gremlins off? Already told ‘em not to touch anything back there.”

“Not at all.” You chirp, earning a quick squeeze to your leg. “Just, uh, buckle up, I guess.” You turn to glance back as you reverse from the parking spot, catching Henderson’s curious gaze falling to Eddie’s hand at your thigh. “And if you see anything rolling around back there, no you didn’t. Capiche?”

The three boys nod, eyes wide and darting to the floorboards.

Ignoring Dustin’s eyes burning into the back of your skull, for now, you elect to drop him off first. Sending him down the sidewalk to his house with a perfunctory wave, your lips pulled in a straight line. That could be a problem.

Mike and Lucas are relatively quiet in the backseat as you drive through the suburban neighborhood streets. They’re polite and grateful, mumbled thanks and goodbyes from each as they shut the door and fumble for house keys. You wait until each has entered the house and given Eddie a wave before maneuvering to Loch Nora.

“Dustin’s getting suspicious.”

Eddie’s fingers flex against your thigh, thumb rubbing circles against the warm denim. But he says nothing, just uncomfortably clears his throat and taps his foot in time with Metallica’s “Creeping Death.”

Your hands grip the steering wheel, turning from one sleepy street to the next. It’s route memory by now, navigating back to Steve’s. If pressed, you could probably find your way blindfolded and dropped at any point in Hawkins. You knew that Eddie and Steve kept their distance in your absence, both unsure of how to proceed without you there as a buffer.

They get on well enough, if a bit haltingly. The boys starting high school this year brought them into each other’s orbit, but your presence cemented it, a red string fit for three. Not that it was exactly discernable to the naked eye, more of a feeling than anything. A steadying pressure against your left ring finger, cording you to them and them to you.

And, subsequently, them to each other as well.

It’s not something you’d personally encountered before, but there were murmurs and vague mentions of it in the forgotten texts. Whimsical notions at the whims of pulp romance authors and film executives, the basis for any romance worth its salt.

You kill the engine after pulling into the driveway, hands finding his before he can bolt.

“Hey,” You say, finger curling under his chin to lift his gaze. “I know this… arrangement isn’t the easiest.”

And his eyes, so wide and wet, stare back at you skeptically. Lacing your fingers together, you open your mouth to continue.

“It’s uh,” Eddie interjects, worrying his lip between his teeth, “It’s not hard for just me.”

You blink in response.

“Steve and I,” He continues, “We talk about it. Not much, obviously.” He sighs glancing toward the front door. His palm is damp against yours, eyes dart from your gaze, narrowing as they settle on Harrington as he shuts the door and walks toward the impala.

He leans agains the door, forearm slung against rolled down window. “Hey, thought we were doing dinner.”

Glancing from Eddie to Steve you let out an indignant huff. “Change of plans,” You turn the key in the ignition and rev the engine. “Get in, loverboy.”

Clearly your attempt to protect Steve and Eddie had failed in disastrous fashion. Sure, you could blame a myriad of things, your ridiculous work schedule, for one. But at the end of the day, it all fell on you really. If you had just taken the time to talk to them, maybe some of this tension could’ve been avoided. Or at least resolved.

But no, you didn’t do any of that. So instead, it festered.

Leaving hurt feelings on all sides and an increasingly jealous set of boyfriends. Just fucking peachy.

Pulling into a clearing of the forest on the outskirts of town, you kill the engine and stomp out the car, pine needles trampling under your boots. Fisting the lapels of your trenchcoat your chest heaves, mind racing to find the words and tone that could explain this mess away.

Two car doors thud in the distance, lowered voices in conversation as Eddie and Steve walk further into the clearing.

What is going on?

Don’t look at me, man. Fuck if I know.

The guys stop walking a few paces away, sharing confused looks and shrugs as you continue further on.

It would be as easy as a flick of the wrist, but still there was hesitation. You hadn’t slipped up in years, centuries at this point, and never of your own volition— the orders had come from on high.

To reveal yourself for what you truly were would be— well, there wouldn’t be any going back after this. No greeting St. Peter at the pearly gates or whatever schlock they spouted now.

Judging the distance safe enough, you turn on your heel, slowly, always slowly so as not to startle. It was like wading through molasses most of the time, but something you had grown used to in your time among them.

The mortals, that is.

Seeing them across the clearing you steel yourself for the fallout. And you know, for all the tales of your kind the world over, it never failed that one person would fail to heed the warnings.

In their hands, you’d left Steve and Eddie with torn scraps of cloth and instructions to cover their eyes until you said otherwise.

Dusk was quickly falling. The once overcast blue sky receded into remnants of seafoam green and teal. There was no breeze; the air felt thick and humid as it coated their lungs with each inhale. It was also silent - no crickets or birdsong accompanied the evening.

The air around you stills, the sounds of the clearing— birdsong, subtle wind, chirps and chitters from the edges of brush— all of that falls away.

You cough lightly to clear your throat. “Wrap the cloth around your eyes, secure it tightly,” you instruct, “Otherwise, the light will blind you.”

Eddie huffs in agitation, “What the fuck are you talking about?” The strip of cloth remains in his hand as he bristles, “Some of us have things to—”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is low in warning before he moves to wrap the cloth over his eyes.

The temperature plummets drastically as the wind begins to howl. You monitor the storm clouds now crackling with lightning and rolling through the sky at an uncomfortable pace. Taking a tense breath in, they pause inhaling the tangy scent and taste of newly forged metal - sharp and pure at the back of their throats.

And with that, you slough the mantle from your shoulders.

Their bodily response is both sedate and swift in coming. Temporal reality feels as if it is both being stretched agonizingly apart and contracting back together too quickly. A demanding rain begins to fall but the droplets evaporate before falling to the ground - all too hot and cloying but the air is somehow refreshing and cool.

Eddie is sick, vomit splashing onto the ground and just missing their feet. Steve feels an acrid bile rising its way up their throat and makes an effort to stifle it.

The crackling lightning intensifies, all of which is your doing, and through a cloudbreak a white burst of flame appears. A monstrosity, really, stories tall with a white-hot heat as it lands in the clearing. A swath of the field is scorched beneath the beaming tower of flame.

An energy reverberates throughout their chests - a constant buzzing hum that defies all reason. A sniffle emanates from Steve, the cloth around his eyes bleeds with the precipitation of his tears - why he is crying he could not say as he stumbles to his knees; a shortness of breath that Eddie hasn’t dealt with in years comes upon him as he staggers to the ground.

“BE NOT AFRAID.”

A buzz, a sound, a feeling, an innate knowledge.

What was once a furious beam of white-hot flame has transformed into a divine being: six pairs of wings, countless phosphorescent eyes, stories tall, bedecked in arrays of gold and billowing white. The voice - if you can call it that - is soft as a lover’s caress but harsh and cacophonous at the same time.

“YOU HAVE CALLED.”

Every blaspheme, exalted prayer, cursed assemblage of words, tear strewn plea; they had all been heard. The odds had been weighed. There had been agreement. And here was the answer.

“YOU HAVE BEEN DEEMED WORTHY OF AID.”

A boom of thunder and the apparition vanishes.

Eddie rips off the bandage from his eyes and glances up to find a winged body fallen right where you’d been standing, scorch marks in a charred circle around you. He rises quickly and breaks into a run, Steve not long behind. He drapes his jacket over your prone form. Mindful of the enormous dove gray wings, he scoops up your lax figure and turns.

Eddie, who can’t seem to stop the silent tears as they track down his face, is the first to speak, “W-was that an…” he trails off, not wanting to shatter the illusion.

Before he can step forward Steve stops him with a hand to his shoulder - holding him in place. “This isn’t possible,” he mutters before growing in confidence, “That literally should not happen.”

Steve sighs and claps Eddie on the shoulder, “Welcome to the club buddy, we’ve all seen things that shouldn’t happen.”

“Is she bleeding?” Eddie asks from the backseat, your head resting on his lap.

You’ve been out cold since the clearing, as silent as the grave.

It’s more than a little unnerving.

Steve takes charge because Eddie can’t string more than a sentence together before going silent in shock.

He’s driving the impala back to his house, taking the back roads and speeding as if he could outrun the devil. He takes a moment to glance back, eyes going from Eddie’s cow-eyed stare to your limp body and back again.

”I dunno, is she? Can you staunch the flow with something?”

Eddie grabs the black bandana from his back pocket and gently turns you on your side.

Dull splotches have seeped onto the backseat, four to be precise. Eddie gently dabs the fabric at the four open wounds seeping a golden fluid. He clears his throat and glances up to meet Steve’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Harrington, I think we have an issue.”

Steve hums in assent and punches down on the gas pedal.

A soft groan falls from your lips as Eddie sets you down on the couch in Steve’s living room. His bandana is covered in this golden fluid, which he can only assume is something akin to blood. Modesty be damned because the wings are proving to be quite the problem, you’re gently turned onto your stomach so they can inspect your wounds.

The first appears at the nape of the neck, followed by the sprouting of two wings, further down three identical wounds lie all equally spaced and of the same size. They’re minor enough to clean and bandage. “Ichor,” Eddie guesses, as Steve returns with the first-aid kit.

Steve takes a step forward, “Eddie, the wounds need to be attended to first,” he says cautiously.

Nodding to Steve Eddie moves to the side. Allowing him to get out the gauze and bandages. He places a tube of neosporin to the side as well. Together they attend to the wounds, applying the salve and bandages as best they can before sitting back on their heels.

Eddie swallows audibly.

”Got any beer Harrington?”

Steve snorts and does one better. He claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder before rising and disappearing into a room just off the entryway, only to return with two glasses and a bottle of bourbon.

”Atta boy,” Eddie says, taking the bottle and opening it. He ignores the crystal glasses and takes a pull before handing it off to Steve.

With a deep sigh, Eddie begins: “She said we had called; what does that mean?”

Steve takes a sip of bourbon and shrugs, “Prayers, I guess.”

Eddie sighs, “Okay, sure. And how are you the expert here?”

He shrugs, “I think I’ve known for a while…” He reclines slightly on the carpeted floor, “I’ve known her for a few years now, but I met her after Barb disappeared. She said she was a detective and asked me a few questions.” He takes another drink. “After she left, I had the worst headache of my life and slept the day away. Woke up with dried blood in my ears.”

The room stills with an uneasy quiet.

“In that… form, I guess, she doesn’t really have a voice as we understand it,” He shifts slightly and leans forward, “Well, they do and they don’t. When we heard her ‘speak’ what did you hear?”

Eddie sighs and grabs the bottle from Steve. “I-I’m not sure,” He relents. “I felt this thing, like a vibration in my chest but I also heard something. Kinda soft, but strong?”

As he explains, Steve nods. “Yes, that’s how it is for me,” He ignores the fact that Munson can hear you as he can, for now. “From what I can tell, humans have adverse reactions to encountering the divine. Crying isn’t uncommon. And you threw up. Their arrival also brings about a natural feeling of supplication: falling to your knees and stuff.”

Eddie remains quiet and stoic as they take turns passing the bottle back and forth.

“How did you know?” He asks softly, concentrating on the amber liquid, “I mean, you’ve known for how long?”

Steve shifts uncomfortably.

“He saw me meditating,” a familiar voice supplies, low and husky from disuse.

Eddie jumps off the floor, out of his skin nearly, wheezing out a “Jesus Christ,” under his breath and brings the back of his closed fist to his lips. He turns, unable to settle his eyes at where you currently laze on the couch.

Two pairs of eyes fall to the form who can now speak. “Well,” You acquiesce, “Meditating is an unfortunate word for what transpired, nearly gave Steve a panic attack I’m sure.”

He smiles and huffs a laugh. “So that’s what that was,” He says, taking a step toward you. “How you feelin’?”

Eddie, having taken in the fact that he’s in front of a bonafide heavenly body, averts his gaze and busies himself with another drink. “So you’re an…” He trails off again.

“An angel,” Steve affirms, eyes not leaving yours.

A cock of your head, “In a general sense, yes.” A roll of the shoulder, flutter of wings.

And with that admission, Eddie killed the rest of the bottle.

Be not afraid, indeed.

You lie low for the next few days, regaining your strength, readjusting to the advent of visible wings.

Eddie ran back home to grab a bag of clothes and to let Wayne know he’d be at Steve’s for the time being. Meanwhile, Steve had tried to warn off the kids and Robin from dropping by, and made up some excuse about having the flu.

Things were quiet.

Steve made sure you were comfortable upstairs and hovered around anxiously, while Eddie remained jumpy and kept his distance.

It hurt and you tried to be brave about it.

More often than they knew, you could overhear Steve’s furtive whispers to Eddie about how nothing had really changed all that much. You were still the same as you’d ever been.

”She could literally kill us, Steve.”

You crouched at the top of the stairs, hidden by the balcony rail as they talked downstairs.

”Don’t be like that man.”

”Like what?” Eddie laughs despite himself, “Realistic? God-fearing? Did you even pay attention in Sunday school?”

”Uh, not really no.”

Eddie sets something down on the table with a bit more force than he’d intended.

”When God wants something done, a punishment doled out or a message sent, d’you know who does His bidding?”

”Angels.”

”Right. And everyone knows the most famous of them all.”

”Are you—“ Steve stops short, seeing a streak of gray on the upper floor. “She’s not the Angel of Death, Eddie. For fuck’s sake!”

”Yeah?” He volleys back, incredulous. “And how are we supposed to know that?”

”Because we know her.” Steve rises from his chair and makes his way out of the room. “She would never do anything to hurt us.”

”How can you be so sure?”

”I just—“ Steve pauses on the staircase, head turned back to face Eddie, hand gripping the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “I can’t explain it man, I just know.”

”Well I don’t.”

A flapping sound, like a whoosh of air distracts them.

Two pairs of eyes, one whiskey-warm, and the other flecked with glimmers of gold and green follow your bumbling footfalls up the stairs, and out of sight.

They turn to each other in the inky blue, and maybe it begins there.

Steve knocked softly on the door as it creaked open, leaving you little time to quell your tear-stained cheeks. Doing your best to wipe them away, you make room for him on the bed.

Sitting at your side, he wastes no time in winding an arm around your hips and pulling you into his lap. Your wings retract ever so slightly, relaxing bit by bit into his grasp.

”Hi,” Steve’s voice had dropped into a low whisper, his thumb worrying along your hip.

A tingle runs down your spine and fans out across your wings and making your body tremble.

”Miss me?”

Your head drops to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you can feel the tendons flex as he swallows.

”Not just you.”

”Give it some time,” He sighs, “This is new for him.”

His hands fall to rest on your hips before sliding slowly to the small of your back. His fingers caress their way up and down your back.

Shivering, you sit up and rest your head against his. Steve’s lips brush against yours lightly.

“I can hide them.”

”The wings?”

”Yeah, just glamour them like I have been.”

”Honey,” He sighs, breath ghosting along your lips. “I don’t think that—“

”Then what will Steve?” A laugh escapes you. “What can I do to get him back?”

”Eddie didn’t leave,” Steve points out. “For all his… concerns, he’s still here. That has to mean something, right?”

You shift in his lap, his lips grazing along your neck.

”Besides,” He says, voice soft, hands inching up your spine. “They like me.”

He nips at your ear and you lurch forward in a shudder, wings arching as tension coils in your body.

In all your years, you’d never met anyone as unflappable as Steve.

He was consistent, reliable, and easygoing.

But he was also insatiable.

”Okay,” You acquiesce, “That may be true.”

Steve’s fingers brushed ever so lightly along the base of your wings, sending a shudder straight through you.

Emitting a low whimper you move to draw back, to distance yourself because it shouldn’t feel like this, so wildly arousing.

”C’mon angel,” He cajoles, “It’ll help you relax.”

”Yeah?”

He presses a kiss to your temple, fingers tracing gently along the delicate bones and plumage, “Promise.”

A warm heat was gathering in your pelvis from his ministrations. It felt odd to have someone touch a part of you that none other had before. Odd, but not unpleasant.

”We’ll go slow.” His fingers brushed a spot that sent your back into an arch, your hips flush against his own, a gasp falling from your mouth.

Just outside the door, in the shadow of the hallway, Eddie can smell it in the air. A musky salty tang wafting through the air and into his lungs that ignites the kindling of his want.

His eyes ran up and down taking in the scene. The flush of Steve’s face and the sweat beading along your skin, illuminated by a warm yellow glow from the lamp on the side table. Eddie looks at you with a curious expression on his face.

Steve spots him as Eddie enters the room and shuts the door with a soft click. You turn suddenly in his grasp only to see that Eddie has recovered from his former shock and trepidation.

He can see your bare back flanked by gray wings fluttering every so often as Steve drags his finger along them. He’s managed to sidle his way within arms reach, expression growing more intent with each step.

A thrilled shiver slides down your spine at his approach, and you fail to suppress it as Steve kisses you hungrily. Eddie tries to swallow the feeling away but it catches in his throat.

You’re straddling Steve’s thigh and moving against it in slow winding orbits. The underwear sitting at your hips does nothing to keep the arousal smeared between your legs at bay.

Steve only pulls back as you're nearly gasping for air, trailing hungry kisses down your neck and jaw. Eddie’s eyes drop to the gleam at Steve’s thigh, how your slickness catches the dim light.

He’d watched you go earlier, cursing his stupid mouth as Steve trailed after you, feeling guilty and shitty for upsetting you.

It wasn’t worth it, he’d decided not long after. Given a choice between having you or losing you, there was no contest— he’d choose you every time.

Eddie shucks his clothes as he crosses to the bed, dropping his shirt, belt, and pants off haphazardly. Each step feels impossible, like quicksand, but he pushes through the heaviness of the room.

Facing him, your face is a mask of confusion, pleasure, and elation. He can see the exact moment that you relax, slumping slightly against Steve as he holds you upright, one hand extended toward him.

”E-Eddie?” His name falls like a tumble from your kiss-bitten lips. There’s a split second of modesty when you realize the state you’re in and move to cover yourself before Steve distracts you by nipping at the curve of your shoulder.

”Figure it out?” He mumbles with a pointedly raised brow in Eddie’s direction.

In lieu of response, Eddie simply lets you tug him down onto the bed before settling at your right, hand curling around your waist. He’s already rock hard, in awe as he watches you arch and shudder under Steve’s hands, hips winding slow against his thigh.

Your brain is positively spinning. Between Steve’s mouth biting and sucking along your neck and Eddie’s hand guiding your hips, you’re about to lose it completely.

Eddie marvels at how lightly Steve works his fingers against your wings, brushing along the undersides of delicate bones and soft feathers. Tentatively, he brings his free hand to the wing closest to him, a single finger stroking downward.

Your eyes nearly cross at his touch and you make an undignified noise lurching toward Steve with such a force that he falls back on the mattress. He grips your hips and moves you from his leg as Eddie’s breath ghosts along your neck. You’re turned around to face him, Steve pressing your back to his chest, the wings trapped between you.

”Hi baby,” Eddie’s husky voice sails into your ear.

You feel so small between them, impossibly so. Vulnerable and exposed in your skin. Steve bites down on your shoulder, and you nearly forget your own name. Too invested in Eddie edging closer to you. His hand trails up your wing in such a way that sends a spasm through your entire body.

A low, throaty moan slips up and out of your mouth as you push yourself and grip his shoulders. He turns his head enough for your lips to brush, his breath fanning out against your skin. His nose brushes yours as your lips descend, his mouth falling open in a harsh gasp.

Kissing Eddie is like coming home.

Warm and sweet, slow like honey.

”You,” He says pulling away, eyes so blown they’re nearly black, “Are the best thing. You’re amazing.”

Steve’s hand squeezes at your hip as your head drops back against him. The tip of Eddie’s tongue traces up your sternum before dropping a kiss at the hollow of your throat.

”Stop,” you say, “That’s not—“

Steve shushes you with a kiss to the top of your spine. “Listen to him angel.”

Deft fingers brush back your hair beginning the frizz in the heat.

“I know this thing between us,” He glances to Steve and back to you, “It’s … unconventional.” Eddie’s finger traces your cheekbones lightly. “And we’re doing our level best not to fuck it all up.”

From behind you, Steve nods in agreeance. His jaw grazing the nape of your neck, fingers trailing at the sensitive underside of your wings.

”And there’s been something we’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now.”

Your fingers still along the band of his boxers, his stomach muscles contract in anticipation.

“We love you,” He whispers, lips kicking up in a smile. “Every single part.”

”And we’ve got you.” Steve adds with a squeeze to your hips.

”That is, if you’ll have us.”

The simple admission lights a fire in your chest as you surge toward Eddie, teeth clacking against his in your rush to get your mouth on him. Steve’s accompanying laughter is a comfort at your back, his hands a welcome anchor at your hips.

There’s a slight pressure at your ring finger, a soft hum in the air as a thin red thread, nearly imperceptible, stitches the three of you together— a fool, a hanged man, and justice.

Eddie’s not sure if he believes in God now, or ever really did, but he believes in this. Thinks that if he had to choose and do it all over again he would, every single time.

But that’s the funny thing about fate, isn’t it?

It’s a relief, knowing that it’s all come down to this.

The soft morning light falls against your skin, warmed with fading vestiges of the autumn sun. Crisp white sheets tangled beneath your legs, a smattering of skin exposed; it was sweet, this tender sensation of thrumming in his veins.

Eddie’s staring.

Committing this moment to memory for the rest of his days; your face bathed in shafts of light relaxed in slumber, body sated warm twisted in an impossible position. His finger traces the knobs of your spine, a gossamer touch barely perceptible; you snuffle briefly and sigh against the pillow.

Steve rouses not long after, a tanned forearm thrown haphazardly over your exposed hip and blinks blearily.

Outlining the faded marks against your back Eddie’s body curls closer to you— three waxing crescents in the golden haze of morning. Steve rubs his thumb against the jut of bone at your hip, he knows nothing of divinity, but he hopes it’s something akin to this: sun-warmed, sweet, and pliable.

A lot like you.

You’re half-asleep, or so it would seem. But you gaze at them now coquettishly from beneath your lashes, all mischief and love— peering at him like a sunbeam through stained glass. Glorious in your benevolence, full of color and life.

This is why they would return to you, time and time again.

Self-admittedly, they know nothing of piety or faith, but they do know this: the slow smile of your pretty lips, dextrous fingers falling from the sheets to reach for them, and the desire to slip beneath your skin to the heart knocking in your chest—

That is devotion.

Sacred.

Holy.

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #constantine!reader #fic: tm

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wickjump · 4 months ago

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GRAHHHH HOLY FUCK

THANK YOU FOR TALKING ABOUT THIS???????? IT'S ALWAYS BEEN ON MY MIND BUT I NEVER KNEW I WAS ALLOWED TO LIKE

ACTUALLY NOT LIKE IT

AAAAAAAAAA

gnawing on the bones of the passage of time rn brb

NO CAUSE LIKE, 2016 UT FANDOM COME BACKKK, I CAN ACTUALLY MAKE SHIT NOW?? I CAN ACTUALLY APPRECIATE YOU PROPERLY NOW GRAHHH

lowkey i miss all the amino ads/spondorships now lmao, at some point it just felt like amino sponsered every single undertale content creator jshsjs/positive

it had it's issues no doubt but fuckkkk, it feels like the atmospheres then and now are so different it doesn't even feel like the same fandom anymore if that makes sense?

ngl i kinda miss the sans fangirls? they were such a staple part of the community back then grahhhh (help i still remember when almost everyone was laughing at the fangirls that, just in general, new/young artists got dragged in too? ugh i dunno, i never really watched those 'cring comps' but i wasn't a fan lmao /lighthearted)

it felt like such a community, it *was* a community

when did everything get so divided

can we all just rp 2016 ut fandom for the rest of our lives

ugh now that i see another person talk about it, my brain just opened the floodgates and im speedrunning the grieving process JHSHSJHS

"it'll never be the same anymore" okay and sure i could be graceful about it but also what if someone has to drag me kicking and screaming

GRAHHHHHHHHH (love you sm for this op, KEEP SPEAKING YER TRUTHHH!! RAHHHHHHHH)

THANK YOU!!!! i will forever speak my truth thank you anon

things got divided and genuinely it doesn’t feel like the same fandom at all. the fandom on twitter feels nothing like the fandom on tiktok or on tumblr. and because so many people don’t have tumblr now, despite how tumblr is the utmv fandom’s medium, it’s difficult to get the people together like they used to. someone could be famous on tumblr, everyone knows their name and their ocs, but on twitter nobody knows who they are. tiktok has plenty of tumblr reposts but theyre also in the dark a lot of the time. it’s disconnected.

the community would be a lot better if we just. migrated back to tumblr again and stopped the callout posts, because honestly i don’t care what someone said that was mildly rude to someone else or anything of that silly nature. it’s not that serious!!!! it’s driving us apart!!!!!!!! we can’t be together if we don’t make an effort!!!!!

i want people to start being communal again. i want rp sessions. i want a new loveball. i want roleplay blogs and silly cringe and especially edgy ask blogs. i want the same level of cringe 2016 had. i want it so goddamn bad. but in order for that to happen, people need to put in an effort, and to do it, and enough people need to do that. which feels like it just won’t happen, im not that influential to make that happen, and as previously mentioned, so many communities don’t know i exist either, nor so many tumblr figures!!!!!! the real ones are the people that have accounts on all platforms and post the same things on each 🙏 thank you for being a rare link

honestly we’re hated enough as is. I mean i literally just scrolled past a yt video called “undertale and it’s FOUL community”. people outside it ain’t doin us any favors, trying to say “we’re good now” ain’t doin shit!!!!!! let’s just have fun and go back to enjoying ourselves instead of trying to be “better”. because im not having as much fun as i know i wouldve years ago as a content creator and i want to have that fun!!!!! and my goal at this point is to let people know they can have that fun. im going to spread this like the gospel mark my words

#utmv #undertale #sans undertale #utmv fandom #undertale fandom #ok so im rewatching an analysis on tbe Walten files right #it’s so fucking funny to me #‘the rabbit is starving’ ME FR!!!!!!!#i keep pointing at the screen and going me fr/so mecore/etc #helps ward off the fright #what is with dead people becoming creepy after death #like if i was murdered it would suck a lot n stuff id not have a fun time #id be real upset #but like #i think id be a normal dead guy #like id be pretty chill #and my mom would still love me #so i think id get over it #though honeslty playing old macdonald had a farm for hours a day every day would drive me insane so it’s understandable

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dean-a-mean-tae · 11 months ago

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Normani defends Stray Kids Nicholas Ross against racist comments | Achievement Goals

The singer, Normani, went to Twitter and Instagram to defend Nicholas Ross from racist commenters. Nicholas responded with a public thank you video. - Achievement Goals

WARNINGS: Racist people, harmful words, mention of death threats, mention of su!c!de,

(@cafekitsune made the dividers) | Nicholas Master list

After coming across a hateful comment regarding Nicholas Ross, Normani jumped to defend him. It looked like she was getting ready for bed but paused her routine for her announcement. She claimed the comment was "disrespectful on so many levels" and showed true character.

Normani expressed her disappointment in the people agreeing with OP's comment instead of defending Nicholas.

The singer showed many examples of the comments and talked about the effect they would have. She mentions this happening to all people of color and not just Nicholas. It is a trend that needs to be stopped.

Normani's video brought the comments to others' attention, and now everyone is banding together to help defend Nicholas.

The video starts with Normani propping her phone up on her counter. She's in her bathroom with a robe and her hair in a braided bun. It's quiet, minus her breathing and the sounds of her getting her skincare products together.

After everything is ready, Normani looks at the camera with drained eyes.

"It's been brought to my attention that some of y'all don't know your place," She said as she leaned her hands on the counter.

"Tell me why I just saw a comment about a man named Nicholas not belonging in a K-pop group because he's not Korean enough," Normani wondered aloud, tilting her head at the camera. She starts moving things around to give her viewers time to let the information sink in.

After a minute, Normani scoffed, "The comments, the replies to the original post, were in agreement. They weren't defending him or calling out the bull."

"The color of someone's skin does not give you the right to talk down on them," Normani explained as she started cleaning her face of makeup. Her voice was muffled by the wipe running over her lips, but the bright captions on the screen clarified what she said.

Leaning on the counter again, Normani glared, "I can guarantee y'all aren't the first people to say things like this, but that doesn't give you a pass."

"You're asking him to leave the group and the world when you're not realizing the effect you're words have. What if you hear he committed because one more comment became the last straw?" Normani asked, her half-cleaned face contorted in anger. She frowned in thought before wiping the rest of her makeup off.

"Nicholas earned his spot in Stray Kids, and for you to try and mess that up for him," She paused and looked to the side in thought before continuing. "To try and diminish his courage in himself and in the decision his leader and the company made in choosing him. That's disrespectful on so many levels."

"You all see someone of color successful and immediately jump the gun. You don't see the struggle behind our color." Normani's brows furrowed with irritation. Absentmindedly wiping the rest of her makeup off, she began to ramble.

"There's no telling what he went through to get to the spot he's in now. You care that someone who doesn't look like you or what an idol looks like in your mind is off the charts and making music."

With her face bare, Normani tossed the wipes on the counter before snatching a bottle. She talked fast and with a deep tone, "One person may not be able to stop racism, but not opening your mouth or typing your little comments could really make a difference."

"Stop being racist and do better," Normani concluded before tapping the screen.

Normani's video has been reposted on Twitter, Instagram, and other social media outlets. Most people agree and find the behavior disgusting. While few are in disagreement and think Nicholas should be a solo star.

Do you agree with Normani's argument? Do you think she could have spoken with a better attitude? Share your thoughts in the comments.

TOP COMMENTS

"I'm glad Normani spoke up instead of turning a blind eye. Unfortunately, situations like this will only be brought attention if a 'famous' person speaks up" - Henry3 Conner243

"To take the time to type something disrespectful without caring about their feelings is disgusting. Nicholas hasn't done anything to deserve hate, and even if he did, racism is too far for anyone." - softAva

"I don't think the OP should have brought his race into this, but I do think he shouldn't be in a K-pop group. He's not Korean, he's black." - SKZarts "You don't even realize how much you just contradicted yourself. You don't want them to bring up his race but you brought it up anyway. How that make sense?" - Dandelions98

"I think Nicholas has the talent and skill to start a solo career, but he chose to be in a group. I'm glad he did because he probably wouldn't have found friends like SKZ to look out for him" - NocturnalBearOwl

Nicholas Ross Master List

Tag List: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x male reader #stray kids x male reader #skz x 9th member #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #stray kids x oc #skz x oc

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izukumidoriyashusband · 2 years ago

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K. Bakugou & I. Midoriya,, In his arms

——

Word count: 2k+

Characters mentioned: Katsuki Bakugou, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima and Denki Kaminari.

note//: All of this is fiction and has nothing to do with the actual characters. I do not claim to own these characters or have made them. This is fiction and for personal entertainment. Thank you and enjoy. NOT PROOFREAD. I apologize for the mistakes. Do not repost anywhere, I do not mind reblogging, please and thank you. @izukumidoriyashusband

tw !! : Angst, cursing/inappropriate language, threats against lives, slight mention of guns, mention of k!lling (in a video game BO3), possessive bf, argument, fluff like hugging and kissing, toxic relationship, physical fighting, and mention of blood.

Summary:

You and your boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou, have been dating since Junior High. You have been there for all of his angry moments, his depressed moments, and all of his great moments. You’ve been there through everything. Sure, he’s gotten angry with you and you two have argued but recently, he’s gotten angrier and more jealous. It all started because you were hanging around your three friends Izuku Midoriya, Denki Kaminari, and Eijiro Kirishima a bit too much. Let’s just say, Izuku doesn’t like your relationship very much and all of his hatred for it, shows today.

“Fuck yea!” You dropped the controller and jumped up. Clapping your hands together as you did a little dance.

“That’s such bullshit!” Denki speaks up, running a finger through his hair.

Izuku, you, Denki, and Kirishima had made a bet while sitting in your dorm about if you or Denki was better at Call of Duty: Black Ops 3.

The score was tied but then you were about to fall off the map, costing you the game.

He was about to win and he put his controller down waiting.

Lucky, it was a snipers only competition and you got him right before you fell.

BAM. Headshot.

That brings you to where you four are at now.

“Damn I really thought Denki would win,” Deku says softly, earning a laugh from Kirishima.

“Nah, Y/N has always been better at these kinds of games.”

“Bullshit, they got lucky,” Denki huffs.

“Y/N, I always had faith in you. You’re truly amazing after all,” Kirishima praises you and you laugh in response.

“Of course I am. I’m Y/N.”

You all laughed and talked for the remainder of the day. It was about 7pm and you hadn’t noticed all the texts you had gotten from your boyfriend.

You were having fun and got distracted, it happens. You were all playing a game of uno until a hard knock was heard on your door.

“Ay, Y/N! Open up.” You hear the aggravation in his voice.

Bakugou.

Everyone seems pretty calm except for Izuku Midoriya.

His body tenses up.

Your quirk allows you to enter somebody’s head, their body, and you can stay outside of their body and hear their thoughts. You know what a person feels and what they think. Your physical abilities are amazing but your psychological abilities, your psychic abilities are what got you here.

You turn to Deku immediately. You feel his fear and his sadness, you wonder why.

You can look into someone’s mind undetected, of course, but do you want to know? Do you want to invade his privacy like that?

Yes. Yes you do.

You take a deep breath and you allow Midoriya’s thoughts to linger until you could hear them properly.

‘He’s gonna kill me if he sees me here. I shouldn’t have told him. He didn’t need to know. I could’ve kept it to myself. He didn’t need to know. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Why did I tell him that? He didn’t need to know. Goddamn it, Midoriya. Your fear must be showing. Y/N is looking at you. If I could swallow this fear, go back in time, and tell them I love them I would. Why did I open my big mouth? God. What to do, what to do.’ His thoughts ramble on and on, you shut them out and take another deep breath.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Midoriya, are you okay?”

You both speak in unison.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know. You look nervous, Spots.”

Spots. A nickname you use for Midoriya because of all of his freckles.

You notice his blush come in as he goes to say something else before another loud bang is heard.

“Y/N. Who are you in there with? Is that Deku?!”

His voice sounds more mad than usual, as if he’s gonna explode. Midoriya looks frightened and Kirishima and Kaminari take a look at each other.

“I’ll get it,” Kirishima says.

“Hey Bakugou-“

“Move, shitty hair.”

You can tell by his tone that he’s pissed.

He’s hot but he’s pissed. You know how he is, so you quickly get up to go to him but you stop in your tracks. He’s not even looking at you but rather at Midoriya.

Fuck.

“Why the fuck are you here?!”

Midoriya takes a deep breath and when you see him look at katsuki, your katsuki, you know he’s not gonna back down.

“Well, I’m their friend.”

“Like hell you are. You have Denki and Kirishina here too? What, so you can flirt with them and they see it as nothing but harmless friendship?!”

“Bakugou, you should chill.”

“Nobody is talking to you, dunce face.”

“I’m not flirting with them.”

“Bullshit!”

They turn to you suddenly.

“You’re just allowing this?!”

You’re taken back by his comment.

“Allowing what?” You replied to Bakugou.

“This?! I know you see how he stares at you! And these two?! I bet you they know about it! Don’t you?!” Bakugou turns to them.

Kirishima and Denki were silent until Denki hit Kirishima’s arm.

Kiri takes a deep breath before starting. “Yea we knew but that wasn’t our intention of trying to get them tog-“

“Bullshit! You wanted him to take them right from me, huh?! Are you stupid?!”

Bakugou steps back a little as Midoriya gets in his face.

“Why are you here starting with them?! They cannot control my feelings nor can you. If I wanted to steal Y/N from you, which I do NOT, it would be on my own fucking accord. And if Y/N would like to be with me, who am I to deny them?! Kacchan, I care about you but my happiness—“

“Fuck your happiness! They’re mine and if you think for a second that they’d even look at you is mental. You’re lucky I don’t snap your neck here.”

“Guys, come on.” Kaminari whines as Izuku puts his head up.

“No no, let’s ask them. It’s me or him.”

“And why would they pick you?” Bakugou snarls.

The attention is back on you. You’re looking at all four of the boys.

What the fuck just happened and what kind of movie cliché just played out in front of you.

“Woah, don’t do that.” The words leave your mouth faster than you intended.

“What? You're scared you’ll hurt poor Deku’s heart? Sorry, Deku but my partner would never look at you and little shits like you-“

“I’m sure they would Kacchan. Especially because you can’t value them,” Izuku snaps back.

“You walk around like you own them and shit instead of letting them be their own person.”

“They are their own person. Fuck are you on about. I treat them very well,” Bakugou snarls once again.

He earns a laugh from Izuku.

God, you can feel the rage coming from Katsuki.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” His tone is more quiet but that rage never left.

“Maybe we should be civil about this,” Denki suggests as both boys shoot him a glare, signaling him to shut up.

“Yea, Kacchan. You walk around like you own them. We can hear the arguments you guys have because you’re jealous and territorial an-“

“You’re listening on our conversations, you little-“

“I’m not done speaking. Has your mother ever taught you manners?” Izuku’s voice is getting deeper as he speaks, the anger becoming more intense.

Bakugou was stunned by the quick reply. Izuku keeps speaking.

“You’re a jealous, territorial, son of a bitch who tries to control what Y/N wears the fuck outside and how they present themselves. ‘That’s too revealing.’ ‘Boys will look at you.’ ‘Change it now.’ We can hear everything.”

While Izuku mocked him, he made his voice a bit deeper, earning another glare from the blonde.

Bakugou is stuck listening to how his relationship is from outside eyes.

‘Am I really like that?’ He thinks to himself.

“You guys should stop.” You speak softly, despite their loud and intense tones.

“No no, Y/N. Tell your boyfriend how you come to me crying because he’s a control freak. Go now. Tell him how you cling to me, sobbing into my chest because he never fucking appreciated a damn-“

Thud.

Katsuki threw him. Right against your wall and lunged at him.

You sit there stunned, watching the two boys fight.

What can you do? Of course, you wish to break it up but their strength levels are crazy.

You’re relieved when Denki and Kirishima pull them apart.

“Stop it! You’re behaving like children and let’s hope you don’t wake up any of our other classmates or even Aizawa!” Denki whisper-yells at them, more frustrated than ever.

You take a look at Midoriya than Bakugou.

Midoriya’s right cheek has a cut on it but no real damage. Probably a bruise on his body.

His body.

Bakugou is a bit sweaty. His blond hair is messy and there’s not really any marks on him besides the blood coming from his lip.

His lips.

You go to say something but Bakugou puts his hand up, to silence you.

Your mouth closes as you wait for him to speak.

“You see what I’m talking about. Y/N can never speak for themself because you keep silencing them.” Izuku snarls and Bakugou just looks at him.

“Leave. All of you.” You finally speak up.

The four boys look at you.

They look at you with sadness, regret, pity, and from Bakugou, there’s a look of..hatred?

You stare at them. Your eyes are cold and it feels like you can see through them.

Maybe because you can technically but that’s not the point.

“Fine. I’m gone and us? Tch we’re done.” Bakugou’s tone is aggressive but shushed. He looks at you for at least 5 seconds before leaving.

He wanted you to plead for his love, for him.

But you couldn’t do that. Not anymore.

Kaminari and Kirishima follow. As Midoriya just looks at you.

He knows you’re hurt.

“Y/N..”

“Midoriya. Go.” You speak quietly, almost like a whisper.

He’s never left you while you’ve been hurt or upset. Funny of you to think that’ll change now. He walks over to the door and…

He shuts it.

He shuts and locks the door before returning to you, fast.

The embrace he pulled you in was tight and welcoming.

You returned every bit of his affection.

“God, Y/N I am so sorry. My emotions got to me and they shouldn’t have. I did not want to cost you anything, especially your relationship.”

Your head is buried in his chest. How much you hate the boy holding you right now.

You hate him.

You hate him, you hate his smell, his touch, his voice…

“I hate you so much.” You whisper to him, tears flowing down your face.

Oh how badly you didn’t want him to pull away. Even despite the hate that you felt for him or the hate you should feel for him.

Your heart couldn’t help but beat for him. If he moved away from you now, you’d break.

“I know, Y/N. I know you hate me but I can’t help but love you.”

His sentences drive your mind wild. The way he takes time with his words. The way he handles everything with care.

“I hate how you make me feel,” you say in a choked sob.

“I know. I know.” Izuku kisses the top of your head.

You look up at him and he looks down at you.

Sure, you’ve had feelings for Midoriya while dating Bakugou. You’d thought they’d faded but every time you and him are alone, they are there. When he just holds you like this as if you’re the only thing special to him, especially when you’re crying, it makes you feel things that nobody ever could make you feel.

Not even your Katsuki.

“I know you hate me. You probably don’t wanna see me after this but Y/N… I can’t hide how I feel. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you before you two started dating..

You're my first love and I never wanted to come between you and Kacchan but, my heart wants what it wants. And right now, It wants you.”

With that last sentence, he leans in. Closing his eyes as you do the same with yours.

His soft lips now on yours and you both can taste the saltiness from your tears, but at this moment, neither of you care. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he kept his hands on your hips.

You pull him closer to you, leaving no space between your bodies. Drowning in each other and not caring for anything or anyone outside of you two. Right now, it’s only you two.

He pulls away after a while.

You two are breathing heavily while staring at each other like two love sick maniacs.

“I knew you loved me and I knew Bakugou was stopping everything.” Deku pulls away from you as he gets on his knees, taking your hands into his.

“I wanna make you forget him. I wanna be the only man in your dreams and the only one you wake up to. I want to yell and fight but communicate with each other and understand each other. I wanna be yours, Y/N. I wanna be yours. Let me be yours. Please.” Izuku looks up at you with pleading eyes.

Who are you to deny him?

Deny your favorite boy?

You look at him for some time, taking in every word and he gets more nervous by the second.

“Shit. Izuku. You’ll be the only man I ever look at.” You whisper to him as he stands up.

You can see that his excitement got the best of him.

He holds you so tight.

The scars from Bakugou are still there. The hurt he caused, those scars.

With anyone else, you’d say you wouldn’t date them just like that and you would forget your ex first and maybe just maybe you’d consider a relationship. But it’s Izuku. A man of his word. A man that would give you the world and more.

And before you know it, your old relationship with Katsuki will be forgotten.

For now, you live in the moment.

You live in Izuku’s arms.

In his arms.

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