#that genuinely was too much for me i’m fucking going back to sleep i don’t care what else happens.

[seitmai]

“No, it’s not.” I told him. “But it is. I should’ve found a different way to separate you from your parents.” I huffed. “Jake, there was no other way. Any longer and who knows where I’d be and with who.” I said as I dangled my legs off the bed, sitting next to him. “No. I should’ve come up with something else. It is my fault.” I just huffed and fell back on the bed, putting my legs back under the covers. “What are you doing?” He asked. “I’m not arguing with you Jake. I’m not doing the back and forth and the taking blame bullshit. If anything it makes me feel worse so just stop.” I fully expected him to get mad and walk out but instead he laid down next to me, tossing his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered. I sat there in silence for a while before I spoke up. “I love you too.” It didn’t take long at all for me to go back to sleep after that.

They both feel so guilty, it could tear them apart... but they realize they are stronger and can get through this together 🫶🏻

“I know a guy, he’s helped me multiple times.” 

Of course Mav has a lawyer that had to help him multiple times lmao

“Hey, Hangman. Look at you being all domestic.” He chuckled. “Never thought I would enjoy it so much.” They both laughed.

Hangman is very much not used to this 😅

“When Pete called me I was surprised when he told me he was calling to get help for someone else. Usually when he calls me, it’s never good.” I cracked a small smile at his remark. “Maverick does have quite the reputation.” Jake said and Mr. Sterling nodded.

Hahahah an what a reputation at that😅

Mr. Sterling and Jake both huffed. “As you should.” Mr. Sterling said, jotting down some notes. “I managed to get out of the truck and run towards my house and he cut me off. I managed to draw attention by screaming and our neighbor came out but my parents brushed it all off. My parents were mad I didn’t just let him do it and risked ruining their precious image.” Mr. Sterling just sat there speechless until I pulled out the photos I took. “I took these right after it happened.” He just sat there dumbfounded as I went on.

This is so heartbreaking 💔 I'm glad she took photos though makes for a good case!

But I want to counter charge them both. After everything that has happened I want them both to pay for everything.” He nodded, gathering everything I laid on his desk. “Mind if I make copies?” I shook my head, “Not at all.” He nodded, pressing a button on his phone. “I think we have a very solid case here. I think we could win it, honestly.” Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Really?” He nodded. “I don’t want to get too boisterous but I think with everything we have, photos, witnesses, your diagnosis, I don’t think her charges will even stand.” I looked at Jake, the first genuine smile on my face in days. “If you’d like, I’d love to take your case and work with you two.”

Yes 👏🏻 let's fuck them up!!

Undiagnosed // Ch. 23

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents, smut.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter 22 | Masterlist

I’m not sure how long we sat against the wall, but I finally got up to feed the kittens again. Jake and I didn’t say anything to each other, he threw away his beer and grabbed another before plopping down on the couch and turning on the tv. Once I was done I prepped more bottles for the evening and took the bottles and the kittens upstairs into the guest room. They were fast asleep so I walked into mine and Jake’s room, grabbed some clothes and quickly showered. I dried off and changed before going back to the guest room. It was only five in the afternoon at this point, so I opted to grab a book I left in here. I feel like I should be doing homework, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. I settled onto the bed with a blanket and leaned against the stack of pillows, trying to get comfortable. 

I fed the kittens a few more times and went downstairs to make myself some dinner. The awkwardness was palpable as Jake still sat on the couch, beer in hand. I wanted to ask him if he wanted me to make him dinner too but I'm pretty sure he doesn’t want to talk to me right now. So I made my dinner and ate it before retreating upstairs to feed the kittens one last time before bed. Once that was done I crawled under the covers, pulling the blankets up to my chin. I stared at the wall, everything that happened recently flowing through my mind, not stopping long enough for me to think of something else. 

“I almost just stopped taking care of you all together”

This single thought sent me into sobs and I was gasping for air to catch my breath. Did my parents really hate me simply for being born? I found it hard to accept that. Even for my parents that was hard to believe. I had to have done something to make them hate me. I’m not sure how long I cried for but I finally drifted off only to be awoken later by a hand on my shoulder. “Katie?” My eyes flew open and I gasped as my eyes adjusted. “Jake?” I sat up a little and he gave me a small smile. “Everything okay?” He sighed, his eyes meeting mine. He was only in his boxers and his hair was a wreck. “I’ve been trying to sleep for four hours and I can’t.” I pursed my lips, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry. Have you tried reading? I know it’s made you sleepy before.” He shook his head, looking at me. “No. I can’t sleep because it doesn't feel right without you in the bed.” I sighed. “Oh.” He nodded. “Just… come back to bed.” I met his eyes and his own were half closed. “Jake, I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “If anything it’s my fault.” “No, it’s not.” I told him. “But it is. I should’ve found a different way to separate you from your parents.” I huffed. “Jake, there was no other way. Any longer and who knows where I’d be and with who.” I said as I dangled my legs off the bed, sitting next to him. “No. I should’ve come up with something else. It is my fault.” I just huffed and fell back on the bed, putting my legs back under the covers. “What are you doing?” He asked. “I’m not arguing with you Jake. I’m not doing the back and forth and the taking blame bullshit. If anything it makes me feel worse so just stop.” I fully expected him to get mad and walk out but instead he laid down next to me, tossing his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered. I sat there in silence for a while before I spoke up. “I love you too.” It didn’t take long at all for me to go back to sleep after that. 

The next few days were weird. We didn’t know what to do with ourselves except take care of the kittens and search for lawyers. Jake was still trying to apologize and it was driving me crazy. He had nothing to apologize for and I have no idea how else to tell him that. “Any of these stand out to you?” Jake asked as he slid his list in front of me. Being in law school for as long as I was, you learn a thing or two about local lawyers. “No… am I being too picky?” I asked and he shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I’ve also never had to search for one.” I nodded and we sat in silence for a while. We continued to look the rest of the day when there was a knock at the door. I immediately jumped up, beating Jake to the door and swinging it open. “Mav.” I smiled at him. “Katie. Hi.” He smiled back. “I wanted to talk to you and Jake.” I nodded and swung the door open so he could come in. “Want anything to drink?” I offered. “Water would be great.” I led him towards the dining room where Jake still was. “Mav! Good to see you!” Jake was excited to see someone from work, it was written all over his face. They both hugged before sitting at the table. I grabbed some waters and went back into the dining room. “So, I wanted to talk to you two about getting a lawyer.” I nodded. “We’ve been looking for the past few days but just can’t seem to pick one.” My face burned red at Jake’s words. “Well, that Cartwell guy seemed like he’d be good.” I spoke up. “You said you hated him because he gave a lecture in your class and he didn’t know what he was talking about.” My face burned even more. “I know a guy, he’s helped me multiple times.” 

He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to me. “He’s not that well known, but he does great work and I think he could really help you.” I looked it over, the name sounding familiar but it wasn’t ringing any bells. I handed it to Jake and he looked at it. “Michael Sterling.” Mav nodded. “Great guy, goes to great lengths to help his clients and he has experience dealing with navy court hearings.” My eyebrows popped up. “That could be a big help to us.” I said and he nodded in agreement. “Well we’ll call him and go see him as soon as he has an opening.” Jake said and I nodded. “You have an appointment tomorrow morning.” We both raised our brows at him. “I already called him and set you up with an appointment. Nine a.m.” I was a little stunned. “Th-thank you, Maverick. We really appreciate it.” He nodded. “What’s your game plan?” He asked. “Counter charges. I’m going after them for everything they did to me throughout my life. I have pictures and papers to prove a lot of stuff, then Jake is going to sue my dad and the Navy for wrongful discharge.” Mav sighed. “That’s going to be very difficult. But whatever you need, I’m happy to write a letter, give a statement, whatever you need and I know the rest of the team is too.” Jake nodded, his hand falling to my leg. “Well, guess we finally found our lawyer.” I nodded. “We’ll talk to him tomorrow and see how it goes. Hopefully we’ll get somewhere with it.”

The next morning Jake and I got ready. I went back to my dresses and heels and he put on a nice pair of jeans and a polo before Penny arrived. “Thank you so much for doing this for us, Penny.” I said as I let her in. “You’re welcome. How hard can it be?” I laughed at her question, leading her to the kitchen where Jake was making all the bottles. “Penny, hey.” Jake greeted. “Hey, Hangman. Look at you being all domestic.” He chuckled. “Never thought I would enjoy it so much.” They both laughed. “Uh, the kittens ate about an hour ago so they’re all asleep in their pen in the living room. When they wake up they’ll probably be hungry but if they don’t eat that’s fine, just try again later. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, there’s still some coffee and it’s hot. Just, make yourself at home I guess.” She nodded. “They’re in good hands, Katie.” I smiled at her. “Now go, before you guys are late. We need to get this show on the road if we’re going to beat you parents in court.” She ushered us out of the kitchen and I turned back to look at her. She winked at me before shooing us out. “Got everything you need?” I snatched the manilla envelope off the dining room table full of papers and pictures as well as my purse. “Yep, let’s go.” Jake helped me into the truck before getting in himself. I took a few deep breaths as he backed out of the driveway and as soon as he put it in drive he took my hand, fingers intertwining on the console.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” He kissed my hand before we rode in silence. My heart was thumping out of my chest and it felt like it got worse the closer we got. As we pulled into the parking lot in downtown San Diego I felt my stomach twist. I couldn’t tell if I was gonna be sick or not. “Darlin’?” Jake asked as he put the truck in park. I held up my finger as I opened the door to let in the warm air, a soft breeze brushing over me. “Are you okay?” I nodded. “I couldn’t tell if I was gonna be sick or not.” His eyebrows raised as I pulled down the mirror to check my makeup. Once I saw it was fine I closed it and took another deep breath. “Let’s do this.” I jumped out and Jake scrambled to catch up with me. I didn’t stop, knowing if I did I would never walk in there. Jake rushed ahead, getting the door for me and I walked on through up to the front desk. “Hi, we have an appointment with Mr. Sterling at nine.” She nodded. “And what’s the last name?” I froze, realizing Mav never told us what name he put it under. “It’ll either be under Blair or Seresin.” She raised a brow but looked it up. “Oh, Miss Blair. Mr. Sterling asked that I bring you back as soon as you get here.” I was a little surprised as she stood. “Oh, thank you.” I looked as Jake and he shrugged but we followed her down a few hallways before she stopped in front of an open door. “Mr. Sterling?” She asked as she poked her head in the door. “Send them in, Carla. Thank you for bringing them back.” She nodded. “You’re welcome,” She turned to us with a smile. “You can go in.” I smiled and nodded, steeling my nerves before I walked in the door. 

A tall dark haired man stood next to his desk, setting a paper down before he lifted his head. “Miss Blair.” He came over, taking my hand gently as he shook it and I gave his a firm squeeze which he smiled at. “Mr. Seresin.” Jake nodded at him. “Please, take a seat. I suspect we’ll be conversing for a while.” I sat in the chair on the right and Jake on the left while Mr. Sterling sat in his desk chair. “When Pete called me I was surprised when he told me he was calling to get help for someone else. Usually when he calls me, it’s never good.” I cracked a small smile at his remark. “Maverick does have quite the reputation.” Jake said and Mr. Sterling nodded. “That he does. So Pete told me a little about what’s going on and I have a few notes but i’d really love to hear it from you two.” I raised my brows. “Short or long version?” I asked and he chuckled. “We can do a summary for now and deep dive as we need. But if there is any important information please don’t skip it.” I nodded, still clutching the manilla envelope to my chest. “Well, I guess I’ll start before we moved to San Diego.” He nodded and I took a deep breath. “Katie, don’t feel like you have to rush anything. Just go at your own pace.” I nodded at Mr. Sterling’s words and set the envelope on the desk. 

“My parents weren’t the most loving. They were cold and distant and I thought that’s how all parents were. We moved around so frequently I never really got to see how other kids' parents treated them. I thought that’s how all parents were. My parents really limited my contact with people and they controlled basically everything I watched and listened to. There were no tv’s or radios in the house and I didn’t even get a cell phone until I was eighteen.” I opened the envelope, pulling out the stack of pictures. “This was the first time my mom hit me. I took the picture on my phone and hid it in backup storage because I knew if she saw it, she’d delete it.” My face was red in the picture and there was a cut from her ring. He took it, his face falling at the picture. “I didn’t know what I did wrong. Now I know it was nothing. I was eighteen and they had no control over me anymore, but I didn’t know that. So they started getting physical as a way to keep me in line and in their grasp. This happened various times throughout the last seven years.” I pulled out a few other photos before I continued. “But it all escalated when I met Jake.” I could hear Jake sigh from next to me and I knew he was getting angry. “My parents care more about their image and reputation than anything, even me. A lieutenant asked me on a date and my father said yes for me. The date sucked and as he was taking me home he stopped just down the road from my house. He decided he wanted more from me than I was willing to give and when he tried to get my dress off me I kneed him in the crotch and punched him in the nose, breaking it.” Mr. Sterling and Jake both huffed. “As you should.” Mr. Sterling said, jotting down some notes. “I managed to get out of the truck and run towards my house and he cut me off. I managed to draw attention by screaming and our neighbor came out but my parents brushed it all off. My parents were mad I didn’t just let him do it and risked ruining their precious image.” Mr. Sterling just sat there speechless until I pulled out the photos I took. “I took these right after it happened.” He just sat there dumbfounded as I went on. 

“Jake and I didn’t get along at first and my dad decided to humiliate me in front of him by making me apologize to another pilot when he was in the wrong. Around that time was when my parents started hitting me more often.” I took a deep breath. “My dad smacked me in his office multiple times. It usually threw me to the floor. He’s thrown me on the ground, hit me with his belt. But I think the worst was the night before I left with Jake for the first time.” I gave Jake the smallest smile and he grabbed my hand, squeezing it. “You ran more than once?” I nodded. “Twice. The first time I left was because my dad was angry I wasn’t studying. He called me lazy and stupid and started wrecking everything in my room then told me I’d be nothing without them and I snapped. I told him I didn’t need them.” I took a deep breath, pushing my glasses further up the bridge of my nose. “Then he yanked my glasses off my face, smashed them with a textbook, threw me into a table and smashed my fish tank, killing all of them.” Mr. Sterling’s eyes widened in shock. “I felt numb. I didn’t sleep that night because I was terrified. The next day Jake talked me into leaving with him and it was probably the best thing I could’ve done.” He nodded. “So how did you run a second time if you had already left?” He asked. “I got scared. My dad is Jake’s superior. I was worried he’d lose everything he worked for, and seems I had every reason to worry.” Jake sighed. “I told you not to.” I huffed out a laugh. “Anyway, I left in the middle of the night and walked all the way back to my parents house. They were still up and when I walked in, they acted like they cared, like they were so worried. I should’ve known it was all a lie but I wanted so badly for them to care. But I was woken up the next morning to hear my dad drilling a chain on my door.” 

Mr. Sterling nodded. “And how long were you there for?” I took a deep breath, trying to think. “A few weeks at least.” I said and Jake nodded. “Two weeks. We went over to her parents a few days after she left because we hadn’t heard from her and they said she was sick, which we knew was a lie.” Mr. Sterling eyebrows raised. “You and who?” He asked. “A few coworkers and friends of mine. Natasha Trace and Bradley Bradshaw.” He nodded. “I think my parents were trying to sell me off or marry me off.” Mr. Sterling once again stopped writing. “You’re sure?” I nodded. “They kept talking about someone coming over and I had to be perfect and they didn’t care what these people did to me once I was out of their house. Mom had me get dressed in a white dress and everything.” He stared at me dumbfounded. “Jake and our friends showed up, kicked in the door and helped me run. I’ve been with Jake ever since. I started therapy, started nursing school and it all went down the drain when I went to the doctor. That was my breaking point.” “What was it, Katie?” He asked. “I had the flu, went for a normal doctor's appointment. She asked what I was doing for my ADHD and depression. I was confused and she printed off my diagnosis for me.” I laid those papers on his desk. “I was never told about this. My parents kept it a secret. I confronted my mother as soon as I found out and we got into it. She admitted she knew but she just believed I was just a shitty kid and didn’t have anything wrong with me. She admitted she never wanted me and considered just not taking care of me as a baby. Even said she hoped to live long enough to see me dead and buried.” 

Mr. Sterling’s mouth gaped open, closing and opening again, as if he was searching for words. “We got into it and I hit her, that’s how we got here. She pressed charges on me and I was made to leave nursing school, and Jake was wrongfully dishonorably discharged. But I want to counter charge them both. After everything that has happened I want them both to pay for everything.” He nodded, gathering everything I laid on his desk. “Mind if I make copies?” I shook my head, “Not at all.” He nodded, pressing a button on his phone. “I think we have a very solid case here. I think we could win it, honestly.” Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Really?” He nodded. “I don’t want to get too boisterous but I think with everything we have, photos, witnesses, your diagnosis, I don’t think her charges will even stand.” I looked at Jake, the first genuine smile on my face in days. “If you’d like, I’d love to take your case and work with you two.”

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

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[patronsaintofgirls]

GIRLS WHEN KILL ALL YOUR FRIENDS LIVE MARCH 2023

[runraerun]

Steddie Amnesia Fic: 1/3

-> Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: lots of head trauma/brain injury/recovery stuff.

Steve wakes up in the hospital with someone snoring loudly on his leg, mouth open, drool getting soaked up into the scratchy hospital blanket over him.

Steve just stares.

It’s… Freddie? No, that’s not right... Eddie! Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, known delinquent and drug dealer… resting his head on Steve’s lap.

What the hell…?

Steve reaches up with a wobbly, IV-ridden hand to clumsily pat along his head, but instead of meeting messy hair, he meets a thick wad of bandages. He flinches when he hits an especially tender spot.

It’s not much but it’s enough to wake Eddie Munson up with a jolt, and a random jumble of words that sounded something like, “the dice have spoken!”, but Steve can’t be sure. Not with the sharp ringing still going off inside his skull.

“Steve? Steve! Oh thank fuck, Jesus H. Christ, you scared the ever loving shit out of me.” Eddie stood and grabbed at one of Steve’s shoulders, shaking him enough to elicit another wince.

“Oh, damn, sorry. I’m like a fucking bull in a china shop here, man. There’s way too much expensive, breakable shit here. I’m not used to it. I accidentally ripped your IV out the other day... Fuck. The nurses hate my guts.” Eddie chuckles, eyes wide and solely on Steve, talking like they were old friends or something.

But that can’t be right. Steve doesn’t remember saying more than two words to Eddie Munson during the entire time he knew he even existed, and even then it was just to discuss weed prices.

“For real though, talk to me Harrington, how you feelin’, hm? Loopy? Gonna yak again? Apparently they got you on the good stuff,” Eddie flicks a liquid filled bag hanging above Steve and shakes his head, “but they keep cutting you back. Dicks.”

Steve’s eyes try and follow Eddie’s erratic movements but his eyes ache the more he moves them. He blinks against the harsh fluorescents and tries to open his mouth. And thank God, Eddie Munson seems to take this as a sign and shut up.

“What happened?” Steve finally croaks.

One of Eddie’s brows jumps. “You don’t remember?”

Steve gives his head a small shake. Did Eddie hit him with his car or something? Is that why he’s sleeping at his bedside and talking to him like they’re buddies?

“You fell, Stevie.” Eddie makes a whistling noise and mimicks something falling with his hands, then makes a crashing sound when his hand lands on Steve’s bandaged head. “Like a coconut out of a tree. Landed right on that big ol’ melon of yours. There was blood everywhere. It scared the shit out of me and the kids. Especially when you wouldn’t wake up.”

Steve’s throat feels like sandpaper, but he manages to swallow, his throat clicking as he did, and gets out, “The kids?”

Eddie seems to notice, even before Steve can ask, and reaches for a water bottle with a straw already in it, and half chewed. Eddie’s own, no doubt. Against his better judgment, Steve accepts it when Eddie offers it to him. He was just so goddamn thirsty.

“Don’t worry, they’re all fine. They were just shaken up. I’ll radio the little gremlins and give ‘em the good news in a sec.” Eddie’s smile falters a little, seeming lost for words. Like he wants to say something, but can’t quite get it out.

Steve finishes swallowing his few, meager gulps of water before he asks, “What is it?”

“Don’t freak out—“ Eddie begins.

And, okay, that’s exactly the thing you tell someone before they freak the fuck out. Steve’s stomach is subject to a growing, sluggish panic. “What? Dude, tell me—“

“It’s your hair.” Eddie seems genuinely pained at having to deliver this crushing of a blow to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

Steve can hear the beeping from the monitors he’s hooked up to begin to pick up speed as his heart begins racing. “My hair?”

“It’s okay! It’s okay, it’ll grow back! They just had to take a little bit off where the stitches went, you can hardest notice it—well, that’s a fucking lie, you could spot that landing strip from space—but I think if you part it to the other side it won’t look so… y’know.”

“No, dude, I don’t know.” Steve says, eyes wide, brows pinched.

“Like a drunk toddler took a pair of rusty kitchen shears to your mop.” Eddie says, huffing out a nervous sort of laugh.

Steve groans, half due to the bastardization that’s happened to his favorite feature, and half due to the migraine that’s looming on his horizon.

“You’re still pretty, Stevie, don’t worry.” Eddie grins, eyebrows raised, like he’s trying to be cute or something.

That weirdest part is, it’s kind of working.

Steve must have hit his head really, really hard.

The doctors eventually come in and perform all sorts of tests, and he tries his best to comply with them and jump through whatever hoops they make him jump through. He just wants to get the hell out of this hospital bed.

Unfortunately for him, Steve hadn’t exactly aced any of the tests.

In fact, he had failed most of them pretty fucking dismally. He couldn’t remember the date, who the president was, where he lived, couldn’t say the alphabet backwards… although, who the fuck can do that? He stands by that failing grade.

A couple of CAT scans later and it’s clear that Steve’s brain got smacked around a little more than they had originally thought.

Among a pile of other stuff, the thing that sticks out the most to Steve is his diagnosis of something called short term amnesia. They explain it like the past 2 to 3 years has just been wiped from his brain. The last clear thing he really remembers is getting the shit beat out of him by Billy, and then it all sort of gets jumbled. Fragmented. The doctors explain that this is pretty typical for head trauma patients.

He’s a head trauma patient, now.

It’s normal for memories of trauma to link, creating spiderwebs throughout your brain.

Which, that’s great. So when he gets beat up again, there’s always a chance his brain will try and erase his easy, happy years and revert back to a trauma default. Really helpful brain, thank you.

And the thing that sucks the most is that his years after the Billy beat down sound pretty great. Traumatizing, sure, but great. Once the Upside Down shit was locked up, with every scary nightmare fuel monster inside of it, life in Hawkins didn’t sound all that terrible.

He lived with Robin, who’s his best friend, (his ‘platonic soulmate’ even, as she explains it), he’s working a retail job, (also with Robin), and coaches the high school basketball team during the evenings. He’d even been talking with Hopper about joining the force.

Well, he was. Now he’s more or less useless, working full time at re-learning his life, along with a couple of fine motor skills that got glitchy after the fall.

And then there’s Eddie.

Eddie, who’s apparently also his best friend, only their soulmate link isn’t platonic at all.

The strange and weirdly exciting reality was that Steve Harrington had woken up from his 3-day medically induced coma with not only a full fledged relationship, but a boyfriend.

It’s a lot to digest, and part of him still doesn’t even know how to process it, but hearing the stories being told around him, seeing how Eddie is practically living in his and Robin’s two-bedroom apartment, and just… the way Eddie looks at him?

It’s with love—Steve can see it. Feel it. Eddie’s practically vibrating with it.

What’s even crazier is that when Steve looks at Eddie, he feels the exact same way.

It’s like looking at the stars. Steve’s heart skips a beat when those dark eyes of hit him, and Steve wants nothing more than to make Eddie smile—no, better than that, to make him laugh, just so he can watch Eddie’s adam’s apple bob up and down and hear that manic, unhinged cackle. It’s downright delightful. Steve loves being in relationships like this, where it’s all consuming.

Steve may not have the memories of falling in love with Eddie, but he has all the feelings.

No one talks about it with Steve, of course. Maybe they think it’s going to be too heavy for him to process that he’s into dudes now, but Steve isn’t a big dumb baby. Sure, he’s got a pretty severe brain injury, and yeah, alright, it takes him a minute to remember people’s names sometimes, and he has a harder time controlling his emotions, but he isn’t a complete invalid. Only a little bit of one. He’s working on it, dammit.

And Eddie is so painfully, frustratingly patient with him. He never pushes. He’s clearly letting Steve retrieve his memories before he makes a move, because despite his whole outward appearance, Eddie Munson is a goddamn gentleman. He never so much as reaches for Steve’s hands, but Steve can tell by the way their pinkies graze when they watch movies late at night that he wants to.

Steve can tell by the way Eddie teases him, the way he’s there with him through his recovery, that he doesn’t ever make Steve feel stupid when he asks the same questions over and over again, when he cries at the drop of a hat or when he gets sort of confused about the lay out of his apartment—he doesn’t care about that of that.

Because he’s in love with Steve. It’s so painfully romantic, it brings a painful lump to Steve’s throat every time he thinks too much about it.

The two of them are driving to one of Steve’s therapy sessions, Eddie in the driver's seat, Steve in the passengers, listening to a low racket of some kind of heavy metal music. Eddie always keeps the volume low now, for Steve.

He’s just been so intensely good about everything that Steve needs to try and do something good for Eddie in return. He needs Eddie to know that there’s a light at the end of this tunnel that they’re both currently lost in.

“I’m sorry about this, y’know.” Steve says when they finally pull up the building that has ‘Brain Injury Recover Center’ written on the front. So all the boys and girls with scrambled eggs for brains know where to converge.

“Don’t worry about it, man. I work the evening shifts, remember? My days are free.” Eddie explains, and Steve wonders if he’s had to be told this bit of information a couple of times now. Sometimes it takes a few times before something sticks to his brain now. His short term memory is still majorly flighty. But no, Steve remembers that Eddie bartends at a local bowling alley most evenings. He’s gone a few times. Not to bowl, of course—too much hand eye coordination involved—but just to hang out with Eddie. He’s pretty decent at Ms. Pac-Man though.

Steve shakes his head. He knows his mind must have wandered because there’s been a lull where no one’s spoken. Eddie never seems to care about that though. “I don’t mean about the drive. I was talking about… y’know.”

“Wha’dy’mean?” Eddie mumbles as he backs into his parking space, hand on the back of Steve’s headrest.

Steve sighs and decides to just come out and say it: “I mean having your boyfriend forget everything about you and your relationship. I just… that must be really tough.”

Everything in Eddie Munson comes to a jarring halt, hand frozen over where he’s turned to ignition off.

It’s sort of unnerving—Eddie is always moving, fidgeting. Damn near bouncing off the walls. But now it’s like someone hit the poor guy with a freeze ray gun.

Steve chuckles softly as he reaches out and touches Eddie’s arm, giving him a playful jostle, to loosen him up a little, “it’s okay, Eddie. I know. You don’t have to keep going easy on me. I’m gay! Or, bi-sexual. Whatever.” Steve shrugs, “see? Not falling apart. I can handle being in love with another dude. You don’t need to keep babying me.”

The side of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a downturned smile that he seems to be trying to hide.

“I know, I know. Not just any dude.” Steve rolls his eyes, a smile still firmly on his face. He takes Eddie’s hand from the steering wheel, and Eddie seems to watch it go in a detached sort of awe. Steve wonders if Eddie’s proud of him for being so cool with it all. “In love with you.”

“Steve, I don’t think—

“Wait, just let me finish.” Steve asks, and Eddie blinks and works on closing his mouth. Knows it’s important to let Steve get his thoughts out quickly, lest they be lost to the giant black hole inside of his beat-up brain now. “I know that I don’t remember any of the important stuff with us. Our first date, or our first kiss or, y’know, any of our other first firsts. So maybe it feels like you’re cheating on the old Steve with me? But… Eddie, I know it’s crazy but even though my brain forgot all of the specifics; my heart didn’t. I look at you, and it’s all there. I’m still so into you, dude. I can feel it, even though I don’t remember how I got here. I’m in l—“

“Steve! Stevestevesteve wait, holy shit—!” Eddie’s eyes snap up from his intense stare at the place where their hands are linked. “Steve—”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts when Eddie doesn’t seem to be able to find the words. He runs his thumb gently over Eddie’s knuckles. It feels so nice to finally be able to hold his hand again. They fit together so well, and Steve wonders briefly if it’s some kind of muscle memory.

Eddie opens his mouth a few more times before he remembers how to make the words come out.

“Steve. Buddy. We’re… we’re not dating.”

Steve’s face falls, and he can feel a lump form in his throat, but he keeps a firm hold of Eddie’s warm hand in his own. “Yeah, I know, I know. We haven’t had any time to be a couple. And it’s probably been torture for you, man. You’re so busy taking care of me and making sure I don’t freak out over everything that you’ve clearly been neglecting your own hierarchy of needs.”

Eddie raises a brow.

Steve chuckles, “Shut up. It’s a therapy term.”

Eddie laughs in his throat. “Steve, you gotta slow down and listen to me.”

He turns his shoulders so that he’s fully facing Steve while he reaches his free hand over and tugs at one of his earlobes. “Got your hearing ears on?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods just the same.

“We… we weren’t dating before your accident,” Eddie speaks slowly, his voice warm, gentle. “Hell, I didn’t even know you were, y’know, into dudes like that. Much less me.”

Something throbs dully behind Steve’s eyes. It’s the start of a migraine—the one that makes it hard to process much of anything. Steve squints, trying to make sense of what Eddie’s saying. “…you’re not my boyfriend?”

Eddie shakes his head very, very slowly. “No.”

Steve snatches his hand back like he’s only just now noticed how burning hot Eddie’s hand is.

He settles back in his seat, staring out the front window. The sounds from the outside world are muffled, and everything feels far away and sort of… Made up. Just like everything he’d imagined was going on between him and Eddie. Not real.

He feels painfully detached from reality. Unmoored. Maybe this was the disassociation thing the doctor mentioned might happen…

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, risking another glance over to Eddie, who hasn’t taken his eyes off him for a second.

“Pretty fuckin’ sure.” Eddie snorts.

“Oh, God. This is… I’m—sorry. I’m so stupid. Fuck, I gotta—“ Steve suddenly attacks the door handle with a clumsy fury that has his hand fumbling with the handle for way too long. Fucking busted up, bruised as fuck fucking brain-!

“Steve, it’s okay, dude,” Eddie says from behind Steve, but that’s easy for him to say; he didn’t just humiliate himself in front of his not-boyfriend, definitely-crush, possibly ex-friend—“Steve, wait!”

Steve flees the van on unsteady feet, not daring to look back.

[cathnospam]

Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?

[charmedreincarnation]

MAYA, I MANIFESTED MY DREAM LIFE!!!!

Okay, I don't know if you remember me, but I participated in a lot of your challenges and the Pink’s challenge, and I found some success! I shifted to my wr and manifested some things, but I could never do it consistently, and it was really fucking annoying.

So, I took three months off and worked hard, using subliminals every day and going on affirmation rampages. I was doing lucid dreaming methods, SATs, meditations, yoga nidra, reading spiritual books literally my whole summer was dedicated to shifting and the void state. I was eat sleeping and breathing it because I could not continue to live the way I was even I can even consider that living …

So What did I do

I just followed your challenge because college was starting, and I couldn't go back to school without my dream life for the fourth time, fearing I might actually harm myself. So played the fields with this rampage (together in two different tabs).

During the Day

https://youtu.be/aLsn6ZK4RZ8?si=Dt_j7ChLjNsQ6tpV

https://youtu.be/gBD4Owz1GC0?si=icOkN1DoFsqP-adT

During the day, I would live in the end. I created albums for my desired realities, re-read my scripts, revised my void list because I genuinely believed I was going to succeed, watched supercell shifting videos on YouTube, and stared at my vision board, realizing it was going to be my life the next day, and more!

Overnight

https://youtu.be/JwV297pP9aw?si=Sxx-xlhE_owInoxH

https://youtu.be/DKB5I9y8SEg?si=PI-UaNw2m_VUWYy1

What I Manifested

- Master shifting abilities

- Master void state abilities

- Having my WR to be a perfect heaven

- Making this current reality a dream: desired looks, desired body, never gaining weight, revised wealth and family, dream friend group, a social media following, being worshipped and respected, being so beautiful by my own standards, dream home (I have a mountain range that goes through my backyard and a farm on my land, it’s enormous), revised city, only attracting wealthy, tall, attractive men, pretty privilege, 145 IQ, going to an Ivy League, getting rid of my anxiety and depression, getting rid of my health issues, no toxic family, so much money, and revised my name to Bella because I love Bella Hadid (my old name was Audrey), and so much more.

I know it sounds nothing too crazy compared to other people who manifest powers and trillions of dollars, but I can shift anytime I want. I’m going to my singing desired reality and high school musical Dr soon and I am so excited I have hundreds of places to explore. My life here finally has stability, and I’m so happy. Not waking up with stress, nausea, and diarrhea is a blessing. My house is clean, my family members aren’t fighting and calling me names, my siblings and I are close. I audibly gasp anytime I see myself in the mirror. My phone is always blowing up with people asking me for plans when it used to be dry as hell, and people forgot I even existed. Everywhere I go, people tell me I should model, want to pay for what I’m buying, are so kind, open doors for me, want to help me for no reason, give me discounts, ask me on dates… I’m so happy and confused. I don’t know how to feel. I am genuinely so loved and respected, and on top of that, I get to explore the universe of my favorite shows and movies.

I’m so glad I never gave up, even though these three months were hard and my life had gotten worse, I am finally free, my hard work paid off, and I hope everyone else will do the same. We truly are God! I was afraid this community was some big joke and big bloggers were creative writers or just laughing at delusional people like me, but I can confirm it’s very, very real.

My love I am so proud of you ! And yes I vaguely remember you and your first shift you messaged me about :)!

I am happy your hard work paid off as well. I remember when everything seemed so meaningless and delusional as well and I also thought shifting was some big joke to target mentally ill teens, but the reality is we truly are all god and no amount of doubt and struggle will ever change that truth. I hope you enjoy your dream life, and I am happy I could help 💖

[loulovingho]

Fell asleep then woke back up still pissed, because:

Tim was clear when he decided on bi buck, Tommy was chosen on purpose. Someone who fit in with the team already and could fit in Buck’s life. It solved the outsider problem.

They wrote Chimney talking about how cool he was, made him and Eddie friends, had Eddie invite him to a virtual bday party, had Bobby give a huge stamp of approval saying Tommy was good for Buck, that he was good people. Made a big deal of the wedding/coming out scene.

They could have made this an off screen breakup at the beginning of season 8. Honestly, I would have accepted it better. But they brought Tommy back, showed again how he fit with Buck’s world. Showed there was no hostility between him and Eddie. They showed Tommy going above and beyond for Buck, sleeping on a couch with too small of a blanket, doting on him, staring at him with so much love, “breaking the curse,” etc.

I don’t buy Tommy’s lame excuse for breaking it off. That’s such crappy, high school writing. This man is 40 fucking years old, he’s six months into this relationship, and I’m supposed to believe he just suddenly decides he and Buck aren’t made to last? That Buck needs other partners? Please!

It also pisses me off that they had him get Buck basketball game tickets for their anniversary. He has got to know by now that Buck doesn’t actually like basketball. And why even have Abby be part of it at all? That was all part of the red string of fate theory, so it felt like an extra slap in the face to include it in their breakup.

The whole thing was so poorly executed, and it seems wrong that they had Oliver and Lou do a whole ass interview at the end of 7 to just… go nowhere in 8. Then have Lou do two exit interviews when he’s not a main anyway, so it feels worse to actually hear from him (especially when he seems as genuinely confused as we do).

They should have had it be some random guy. They shouldn’t have made the effort to include Tommy as much as they did. They shouldn’t have mentioned wanting bucktommy to be like tarlos. Shouldn’t have mentioned getting Buck off his hamster wheel. They gave fucking Taylor more time than this, and she spent the majority of her screen time using Buck to further her career.

And someone, somewhere down the line could have made a statement to stop fucking harassing Lou, seeing as they’ve known for at least a few months that he was no “threat” to anyone or anything.

[comically-callous]

Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade being stuck with his gender neutral crush in close proximity please?

Love this 👅👅👅

Wade, Logan, Remy, and Kurt with gn!Reader in close/forced proximity 💕

Warnings!!!: Mild language, tad bit suggestive in a few parts (nothing crazy, don’t get excited), Wade being semi aware that he’s in a fanfiction lol, forced proximity in smallish places

A/n: Hello, I’m back. I liked writing this one, it brought me joy even though I had a mental breakdown halfway through writing it for unrelated reasons. Anyways, requests are open 😛

Wade Wilson:

Wade drags you out to a casino after a successful mission together because you guys are in Vegas and he wants to celebrate!! and definitely not because he wants to spend more time with you

But, of course, as soon as you two exit the lobby area of the casino and enter an elevator, the thing comes to a sudden halt.

“Uh-oh. The good ol’ forced proximity trope. Better get comfortable, Y/n. I’ve read enough fanfiction to know we’re not getting out of here anytime soon.”

Obviously, you call the front desk. But, they tell you it’ll be a while till they can send someone over to get you guys out of here.

Despite the shitty situation, Wade is happy to be spending time with you.

The two of you sit on the floor after a while and even though it’s a pretty spacious elevator, Wade sits right next to you. Like, shoulder to shoulder.

He’s sure to keep you entertained while you wait to be rescued. And by keeping you entertained, I mean he won’t shut the fuck up.

And it’s really all fun and games for him until you show any signs of being genuinely upset or nervous about being stuck here.

That’s when he basically pries the doors open himself and somehow manages to climb through the elevator shaft and fixes the problem himself.

“How the hell did you manage to do that?”

“I can be useful when I want to, hot stuff.”

You guys leave a negative review on the Casino later.

Logan Howlett:

You two have to share a hotel room together while on a mission, and unexpectedly, (say it with me, now) there’s only one bed.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“I don’t want you sleeping on the floor.”

“Do you wanna sleep on the floor?”

“The bed can easily fit two people. Besides, It’s just for one night.”

“…”

“Come on…. I don’t bite.”

So, now you two are sharing a bed. And to your surprise, he’s being very mindful about it.

He sets up a little wall of pillows between you and says it’s to protect you in case his claws come out while he’s sleeping.

And obviously, you don’t know about it, but he’s pretty nervous.

He knows it’s stupid and he knows he shouldn’t be nervous because it’s not like anything is going to happen between the two of you. But, still.

He gets up once or twice to leave the room to smoke and definitely not to go outside and contemplate every single thing he’s done tonight.

When he comes back, you apologize and he realizes that he’s probably made you think that he’s somehow uncomfortable by your presence.

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t mind this, honestly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

And so, the two of you get into bed together. Don’t worry. He’s going to be a gentleman about it unless you don’t want him to be 😈

Remy LeBeau:

The two of you are tasked with grabbing some spare blankets from a closet after some of the children at the school ask to build a pillow fort.

Easy enough task, right? Wrong. Somehow the two of you get trapped in the blanket closet together.

One can only bang on a door and shout for help for so long before giving up.

“Don’t worry, Mon Ami. Gambit’ll keep you company.”

The two of you can’t really move too much, both settling for leaning against the walls opposite from one another.

He assures you he wouldn’t mind you getting closer. Which, of course, gets you flustered and you just have to hope he doesn’t notice in the dark.

He’s having a great time. He loves teasing you, and getting to see you get all nervous.

“You sure you don’t wanna get a little more comfortable?”

“It’s fine, really. Someone’s probably realized we’re gone by now. They’ll find us here any minute.”

“Shame. I was hoping we’d get a little more time alone together.”

Anyways, it turns out if there are people looking for you, they’re doing a pretty shitty job, because you haven’t even heard anyone walk by the closet and it’s been nearly 20 minutes.

And Remy knows he unfortunately can’t just stay in here with you forever. So, he’ll knock down the door the second you give him the word.

Kurt Wagner:

You, Kurt, and a couple of the other X-Men take a little road trip. Or are all driving to do a mission. It doesn’t really matter, you’re all in a car together.

You and Kurt end up drawing the short straws and are forced to be crammed into the small backseat together.

Now, could Kurt hypothetically just Bamf over to wherever you guys are going? Probably. But, why would he do that when this is the perfect excuse to spend time with the person he’s been pining after for…. Weeks? Months? Who knows.

It doesn’t matter! He’s happy to be here with you. But, also nervous.

He doesn’t wanna upset you, or weird you out, or make you uncomfortable at all! That’s the opposite of how he wants to make you feel!

So, he may or may not end up basically smushing himself against the car wall.

He chills out eventually and gets comfortable. But, fuck, those first 30 minutes were ROUGH.

You two get to talking and he’s just so happy to be spending time with you. So happy his tail subconsciously wraps around your ankle.

You either don’t notice or don’t say anything. Either way, the tail stays there.

After a couple hours, your eyelids start to feel heavy. And before you know it, you’re asleep. On Kurt’s shoulder. AND HE’S FREAKING OUT ‼️‼️

-Y/n? Y/n? Mein Gott….”

And that’s the last thing he manages to get out before going completely ghost and still. He wants you to get your rest.

Eventually he falls asleep too. Turns out the two of you get very good rest when sleeping together. Maybe you should do it more often.

[fangswbenefits]

Consequences

Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.

Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part

Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.

After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.

Tom.

He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.

By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.

Still not wearing a bra.

Still in his shirt.

But having mumbled someone else’s name.

Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.

It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”

Laughable.

He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.

“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”

“Sure.”

You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”

“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.

Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.

But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.

Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?

Or someone important?

Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.

But he was sure of something: he needed answers.

He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.

Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.

Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.

“Want something to eat?”

You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”

He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”

“Yes!” you beamed.

Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.

To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.

Everything looked very… domestic.

Except, it wasn’t.

Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?

But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.

“Who’s Tom?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”

Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.

There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.

Right?

“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”

Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

I didn’t even sleep…

“Is he family or…?”

You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”

At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.

“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”

You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”

He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.

“You can take the day off if you need.”

You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”

He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.

There you were again.

His hardworking sweet girl.

You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”

He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.

“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.

That smile could break a man.

It had broken him long ago.

And now Miguel wanted to scream.

To break something.

Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.

He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.

That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.

He glared at his bed.

Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.

The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.

You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.

He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.

Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.

But that didn’t stop him.

Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.

You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.

His hips rolled once.

It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.

His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.

He wasn’t going to last long.

This was too much.

With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.

How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.

The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.

He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.

His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.

Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.

The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.

If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.

Jessica Drew.

Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.

Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”

“Busy?”

“Just headed out to brief my squad.”

“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.

“Oh.”

He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”

That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.

“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.

“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”

“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”

He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.

“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jess.”

“But Miguel…?”

His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”

“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”

Point taken.

He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.

But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.

“Just do what you have to do.”

She nodded and the hologram faded.

The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.

You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.

You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.

Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.

He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.

But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.

You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.

As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.

“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Good.

But also… very workaholic of you.

You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.

“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”

You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”

Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.

You were still acting like his sweet girl.

The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”

You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”

Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”

Priorities of any scientist.

Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.

This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.

Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.

“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.

He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”

You blinked.

“That conversation… about Tom?”

“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”

Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.

And he wanted to fix that.

Miguel was a fixer.

“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”

He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?

You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.

It didn’t matter.

He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.

But then… “Are you two close?”

He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.

“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”

But why?

So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.

But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.

He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.

Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.

He needed answers.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”

That was unexpected.

And so unlike you.

And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

He was. Truly.

And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.

Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.

But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”

Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”

You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.

Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.

Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.

You should never have to feel sad.

“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”

Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”

How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.

You just didn’t know that.

He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.

For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.

But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.

“Thank you.”

A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.

Anger.

Rage.

No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.

He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.

He would find him and he would break him if he had to.

Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.

The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.

“I’m here for you.”

He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”

“What?”

“It distracts me…”

He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”

You nodded with a sniffle.

“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”

You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”

He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.

Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.

It had worked.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.

On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.

His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.

His sweet girl…

How he really wanted to—

And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.

Of course.

You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”

Fuck.

You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.

“My Earth? What happe-”

He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”

Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”

Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face

“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”

He didn’t want to lie to you.

But you had left him no choice.

He had to know who Tom was.

For you.

“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.

You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.

Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.

He could get used to it so easily.

Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.

“Hey, Miguel?”

79%

Almost there.

“Miguel?”

His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”

“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”

That made him snap his head to glare at you.

What?

You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”

Of course not. He had made sure of that.

But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”

You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”

Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

No, no, no…

“So… can you let me in?”

The mic.

Fuck.

Part 5

Masterlist

[roanniom]

For the Road

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk

You lie in the quiet of dawn, cool rays of a hesitant sunrise filtering through the curtains, as Eddie plays with your fingers.

“I don’t want to go on tour.”

His words are so soft you almost don’t hear them muffled against your neck. It’s the first either of you have spoken since you’d woken up in each other’s arms. Distress pricks your throat.

“Why not? You’re going to have so much fun and the crowds are gonna be sick.” Your tone is cheery. You want the best for your man, even if that means feigning excitement in the face of his imminent departure.

Eddie shifts in bed in order to look at you.

“You won’t be there.”

In spite of the stubble that’s accumulated on his face over night, his crumpled expression leaves him looking boyish. Your heart aches.

“I will be there, silly. You know I’m coming to London to meet up with you.”

“Yeah, at the end of the tour,” he groans, burying his face back against your neck. The laugh you let out in response is genuine. You don’t want him to be hurting, but his petulance is endearing in this context. Plus, you secretly like knowing you aren’t the only one dreading your separation.

“I’ll just be a phone call away, you know.”

“Promise?”

You tap him till he looks up at you again so he can see your outstretched pinky. Grinning, he hooks his larger one around yours.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Eddie Munson,” you reply.

“And thinking impure thoughts about me?” Eddie asks hopefully, a wolfish grin lighting up his features. You slide your free hand down his chest and under the covers.

“I only think impure thoughts about you, babe.” You go to press against what you assumed would be his half aroused member only to find it fully rigid under your palm. You intake breath sharply with a laugh. “You’re already hard?”

“What do you expect? Your hand is on my dick.” Eddie says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world.

“Yeah, for like two seconds,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What can I say? That’s all it takes—fuuuck.”

Eddie trails off into a groan as you wrap your hand around his length in earnest under the waistband of his boxers.

It’s only a few minutes before he’s panting, head tossed back and wavy hair sprayed out against the pillows.

“Oh fuck, just like that, baby.” His voice is low. Gruff with lust and leftover sleep. “You’ve got the magic touch, you know that?”

You hum in response. You’re too focused on the “task at hand” to let him really distract you with his praise. You’re stationed between his thighs, one hand gripping the base of his cock while the other fists up and down, squeezing and twisting over the mushroom head with a flourish each time.

Each time the tip is exposed, you flick your tongue over it, rewarded with his deep moans.

If Eddie was going to be on the road, you were going to be leaving him with plenty of material for his daydreams.

When you start bobbing up and down, taking him deeper in your mouth, that’s when his hips start bucking.

“Princess, it’s - shit - morning. You know I can’t…fuck. Can’t last long in the morning.” He attempts to push you off but you just look up with a grin, your hands still working him expertly.

“Oh I know.”

“I haven’t gotten you yet,” he practically whines, reaching to squeeze at your breast through your sleep shirt.

“I’ll sit on your face later. Right now I want you to cum, ok baby?” you ask before dropping back down to take him all the way down your throat without further warning.

Eddie gasps and his whole body jerks.

“Holy fucking…oh god. Yes ma’am.”

~*~

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I hope you enjoyed this little blurb as I get back into posting! Please let me know what you think! I’ve been gone a long time and would love to hear from you guys

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[ohtobeleah]

I think one of the main reasons why the Worst!Logan loves you so much, without putting too much thought into the question, is simply because you ease the burden of being alive. You don’t ‘give him a reason to live.’ He found that on his own when Wade showed up and snatched his old, drunken ass out of his world and planted him here. But you ease the burden. You ease the pain of being alive on days when everything seems so…distressing. But when you plant something, it often grows roots. And that’s exactly what Logan wanted to do with you. 

“Hope, at its very core, can be the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torment of man,” That one. That was the ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’ moment where Logan knew you had him wrapped around your finger like some perverted puppy. “You aren’t just any man, Logan,” He could vividly picture you sitting on his lap while his back pressed heavily into your headboard. “You’re Wade’s boyfriend.” 

“Oh aren’t you just hilarious,” Logan could remember replying to you as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He loved those moments. The quiet ones. Where nothing else in the world mattered except for the time he got to spend in your undivided attention. “Keep that attitude up, I dare you.” 

“You don’t have to threaten me with a good time.” It was the dynamic the two of you had. The banter-filled friendship that crossed the line into friends with immaculate benefits. And under the glow of your bedside lamps, the ones that sent an orange hume across the floor-length curtains and cottage cream walls, Logan knew that the small amount of time you had been in his life…had been the time most lived. 

“You surround yourself day in and day out with a degenerate crew of antagonists, Logan, of fucking course you’re gonna pick up a few traits after a while!” It wasn’t uncommon to see Logan perched up at the bar while you made coffees for the steady trickle of customers who stopped by for their caffeine fix. After all, it was your cafe. “It doesn’t sound like my issue that you called Althea, Blind Al.” 

“It’s not her fucking name, is it?” Logan’s heated. He kinda hates himself a little for it. Mainly because he recognised straight away who he sounded like. Wade fucking Wilson. Secondly, he had enough respect for the old, aging and decaying to know nicknames like that could put senior citizens into early graves. Well, earlier. “You know what, that’s it, I’m not fucking hanging around that guy anymore.” 

Deep down, Logan knew he didn’t mean it. Wade was a genuinely good person. He saw a lot of parallels of himself in the guy. And if it weren’t for Wade… Logan wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Bickering back and forth with the love of his overextended life. You just made him feel like a guy. Just some dumb guy. Simple. Whenever Logan was with you, he wasn’t The Wolverine. He was just James Howlett. 

“Okay one,” You stopped steaming the milk you had in just been working with so you could reply. You turned with a shit-talking snarl ready to go. “You sound like someone who’s beefing with their childhood bestie,” The frown on Logan’s face warned you not to continue, but you weren’t in the mood to pity someone over four times your age. “Two, you fucking live with the guy man?” You pointed out the incredibly obvious logistics of Logan’s dilemma. “What? you gonna sleep on the street?” It was a genuine question you had. “Please, you’re made of metal dumbass, you’ll catch some sort of genetically fucked mutation of pneumonia and die at the young age of two hundred and twenty-something.” 

“You know exactly who you sound like right now?” Logan countered as he sipped his coffee. The same coffee order you made him every damn day. Black, no cream, sugar or milk. No flavoured syrup or sweeteners in sight. Just black. 

“If you point out the fact I sound like my longest-standing friend, I’ll take great pleasure in knowing you can’t die alone, because you can’t seem to die at all!!” 

“Go fuck yourself!” Logan needed this. He needed you to match his energy. You saw him coming from a mile away when he’d come barrelling into the cafe with a glare of despair and in need of some reprieve. 

“Fuck me yourself, asshole.” It wasn’t exactly what Logan had been expecting you to say, but he did take you up on that offer…The second he knew you were off work and at home later that same evening. 

“Logan–” Your needy little whines were a symphony of desire and love. “Logan–yes, baby you feel so good.” The way Logan made you feel, the way he touched you in all the right ways, made you feel drunk on his ecstasy. 

“Ohhhh just like that huh?” Logan wouldn’t dare change a single thing about what he was doing right now. He had you right where he wanted you. He loved you in his position. The one where he had your arms pinned behind your beck. The one where your chest presses right against his. The one where all he has to do is buck his hips up into yours while his heels dig into your mattress. It’s the one where he can whisper the most degrading things into your ear and knows you’re drooling for it. He knows that much because he can feel it dripping down his other shoulder while you mumble incoherent love songs. 

“I could smell you, you know,” Logan growls particularly low as he keeps his pace going. “When you were giving me that fucking attitude in the cafe today,” You know he’s talking, but the way his perfectly enhanced cock is kissing the tip of your cervix with every thrust it keeping your mind from focusing on anything else but chasing that all important high of yours. “Got nothing to say now, have you?” 

“I–” You tried to tell Logan what you want, you know he already knows when the words won’t come out and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling. “Wanna–” 

“Oh please,” Logan nearly begs while he keeps thrusting up into you. He can feel the mixture of his previous load and your arousal mixing at the base of his shaft. “Give me something pretty to look at gorgeous.” 

Logan thought you were the most gorgeous woman to ever grace his life. Inside and out you were truly one of the most kind-hearted, lovely, compassionate people he’d ever known. But right now, in this very moment, all Logan wanted to do was see your gorgeous face when you came around his slicked-up shaft. All he wanted to feel was you clenched him like a vice grip made just for him. 

“Fuckk–Logan!” At your cries, Logan was quick to grab your face with one of his hands. He wanted to look you in the eyes. Wanted to feel every part of your soul connect with his when you came for him. 

“I’m right here,” He cooed, still bucking into you with force and pace. “I’ve got you, come on me, baby.” 

“Ohhhhh–” The way you dragged your nails down his sides made Logan hiss with pure sexual gratification. Your velvet walls paused around his shaft as he kept up the pace, fucking deeper into you. As deep as he could get just to feel you. “Yessss–” 

“I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Logan rolled his eyes with pure unadulterated lust as you came down from your high. He lets go of your face only to crash his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. “Fucking perfect for me.” He gives you a minute to recover. Logan slowly rocks his hips so that he’s never completely still, always admiring your beauty while yours naked on top of him the way you are. 

“Okay big guy,” You sigh, sitting up to straddle Logan. “Your turn.” 

“Gready thing, one not enough for you?” Logan could still feel how full you were from his last load. He couldn’t contain himself, you just had that effect on him. 

“Well, since you’re either sleeping here or on the street tonight, I figured you didn’t have any plans,” You teased as you rocked your hips the way you knew drove Logan wild. His fingers dug into your hips and for a second he released some pressure. Worried that he might leave a few bruises. Or worse…But when you placed your hands on top of his? Logan knew you were alright. “Gonna finish what you started? Or do you need a second to catch your breath?” 

“Oh I’m gonna ruin you–” Logan smiled as he jumped into action. Capturing your lips with his as he flipped the two of you around. Suddenly you found yourself on your back, pressed into the mattress. “You know how I feel about you, right?” It was a gentle moment laced between the lust and the desire. But when Logan caught your eye, so beautiful and kind, he wanted to make sure that you knew this wasn’t just sex to him. 

This was…You were… Everything he ever wanted. 

“I know,” You nodded, making sure to pull him closer. As close as you could get in missionary. “I’ve got you,” Was all you said back before your lips were taken hostage yet again. “I–” You were about to say it but stopped yourself. The L would be just something that wasn’t said that much. 

You knew it was because Logan was afraid to. He was scared if he said he loved you then he’d wake up from this dream. Back in the pub, he wasn’t welcome in. Back in his reality, where the version of you didn’t know him as the best worst version of himself. 

“You mean everything to me.” You settled with as Logan buried himself inside you. Not knowing that in nine months from now, your greatest love of all would carry your love for Logan in her name: 

Ilya: I.Love. You. Always

Ilya

[bwabys-scenarios]

Breeding/Pregnancy sex HCs with Kurapika!!

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: breeding, pregnancy sex, lactation, overstimulation, creampies(like a lot of them), Kurapika drinks your milk, he calls you mommy, cockwarming

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved @stygianoir

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

-Kurapika finally letting it be known he intends on getting you pregnant

-He’s fucking into you, pulling away from your lips to gaze into your eyes. “So pretty, so fucking pretty… gonna fill you up… gonna be so pretty with a baby bump…”

-“F-fuck… gonna be such a good mommy, oh fuck! Taking my cock so good…”

-And he’s panting, so pussy drunk that he just says “mommy, mommy… such a good mommy… “ over and over…

-You swear Kurapika is ovulating when you are, because the entire time he’s just like “GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT GET PREGNANT!!!”

-He keeps a log of your period and when you go into ovulation. And he just stuffs you full of cum the entire time, and he cannot keep his hands off of you.

-“Pika it’s like you’re in heat or something. I’m the one that’s supposed to be super horny!!”

-You wake up to him sleepily rutting into you while shoving his hand up your shirt.

-“Pika… sleepy…”

-“Shh, shh… gotta… gotta fill you up, okay?”

-And you whine, your tummy is already so full of cum and you’re sore, but he just feel so good inside you, and it helps when he reaches an arm around to rub at your clit.

-“See, angel? Feels good, doesn’t it? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry, okay?”

-And he presses a kiss to your temple, before snuggling into your warmth, his hips plapping against your ass.

-Sometimes he likes to press down on your tummy and watch his cum ooze out. “Aww… looks like I’ll have to fill you up again, sweetheart. You leaked all over the bed…”

-“P-Pika… please, too full…”

-“Angel, there’s plenty of room now. Now come on and stick your tongue out for me.”

-Kurapika sucks on your tongue as he continues pounding into you, his hands massaging your doughy thighs.

-Kurapika has a pretty high stamina, and can go as many rounds as you want.

-One night, he’s been going for nearly three hours, and you’re so so sleepy. You whimper as he cums inside you again, only to feel him continue moving shortly after.

-“Kurapikaaa I’m sleepy…”

-He shushes you with a few kisses. “I know angel, just one more time okay?”

-And you pout. “That’s what you said thirty minutes ago…”

-“I know, I know… I just can’t help myself… you keep sucking me back in angel, you’re just so pretty when you’re all full of my cum.”

-He’ll hold you so gently as he pounds into your cunt, making you whine.

-You’re not getting any sleep anytime soon…

-He can go on for hours, his record being 6. Though he’ll stop if you genuinely want him to, before that he’s going to keep going until you’re stuffed.

-Besides, isn’t it better to have a fresh, warm load of cum fill you up? He just wants to take care of his precious angel!

-He’s the type of mfker who will make you sit with you hips on a pillow while he leaves to grab you a snack and drink. “I’ll be right back angel, try to stay still.”

-And he’s so sweet and doting after you’ve taken so much of his cum. Will feed you snacks and cuddle you as much as you want

-He’s also the type to try and plug you up again with his cock.

-“Shh, shh, I know you’re sleepy. I won’t move, just gotta make sure none gets out, princess.”

-And you’ll try your best to fall asleep while he’s balls deep inside of you, but it’s not exactly easy when he sleepily ruts into you in the middle of the night

-It doesn’t take long for you to get pregnant. And after that the doting just increase tenfold.

-And when you’re pregnant he is so sweet. He’s so gentle and will take good care of you. When he’s there you’re always in his lap so he can feel your baby bump and massage your aching back and feet.

-He’ll scold you for still chasing around Killua and Gon, but yell at them even more later for making you do so. Leorio comes over regularly to give you check ups. The boys watch from the hallways anxiously, Kurapika holding your hand as Leorio gives you a clean bill of health.

-Kurapika discovers that if he hits a certain spot when he’s fucking into you while you’re pregnant, you’ll leak milk… makes him go feral.

-he NEEDS to squish and knead your breasts, squirting your milk onto his tongue. It doesn’t take him long to actually latch on, taking your sweet milk from the source.

-he gets hard when he sees you leaking through your shirt… “let me take care of that, angel…”

-he needs to keep you on his cock throughout your pregnancy. lots of cockwarming and cuddling. he’ll read to you and the baby while he keeps you sat on his cock, gently running his hand over your baby bump. honestly this is just how he feels the most connected to you, and it’s so comfy for him.

-He’ll just coo in your ear as he rubs your baby bump, occasionally bouncing you gently. “My beautiful angel, such a good mommy.”

-After your pregnancy honestly you end up feeling a lil empty because you got so used to him just pulling you over to the couch and sitting you on his cock

[nadvs]

I love love love this new au🥹 coming from a severely stressed Uni student could you write how rafe would take care of her when she’s studying too much barely eating or drinking and just really anxious for exams and stressed out.

aaa thank you angel 🥺 yes of course!! i hope you feel better soon!!

based on this fic

“…practice until five,” she hears.

“sorry, what?” she mumbles to rafe, her stare focused ahead.

her boyfriend gazes at her profile as they sit in his bedroom, watching a show on his flatscreen.

“my schedule next week,” he says. “you asked about it.”

“right,” she says. she meets his concerned blue eyes. “sorry. i was out of it again.”

she can feel herself retreating from reality all the time. finals are only a month away and she keeps catching herself zoning out out of lectures and conversations, spiralling into nerve-racking hypotheticals.

“did you eat today?” he asks.

“um… i think so?” she says.

“you’d remember if you did.”

rafe grabs his phone out from beneath the covers to order takeout. she looks at his screen, his wallpaper the photo of herself in his jersey that she’s seen so many times, and realizes it’s minutes away from eight p.m.

“fuck, it’s eight?” she says, scrambling out of bed. “i was supposed to go home to study like an hour ago.”

she grabs her things, staring at him with wide eyes, confused why he isn’t rushing to leave.

“you can drive me, right?” she asks.

“chill for a second,” he sighs. “what if you skipped it tonight? sleep here.”

“i can’t. i can barely sleep in my own bed,” she says. “i can barely sleep at all. if it’s a hassle to drive me, i can order a-”

“no.” rafe stands, relenting. he knows she’ll just argue if he pushes. “let’s go.”

“are you mad?” she asks.

“no,” he says.

“we don’t bullshit-”

“bullshit each other, i know,” he finishes her sentence. “i’m not mad.”

she trails him out of the room. even though he said he’s not mad, he’s acting like it.

rafe’s hands are tight on the steering wheel as he drives to her college campus through dark, busy streets. his girl’s been in her own world lately. every day, it gets worse.

he knows fighting will just stress her out more. he tries to encourage her to take breaks, but it seems to just make her spiral more.

he gets it. his mind gets tangled up, too. pressure can be a bitch. so, he bites his tongue for her sake. she’s the only person he cares enough to reign in his temper for.

“you’re really not mad?” she asks softly.

“i’m worried,” he admits.

she’s silent, staring out the window.

“it’s just finals,” she says. “i’ll be okay.”

rafe’s not entirely convinced. but he gives her the space she needs and drops her off.

about half an hour later, she gets a text from him that there’s takeout waiting for her downstairs. she can’t manage to eat everything because he sent enough food to feed a whole group of people.

then, he texts her close to midnight to see if she went to bed yet.

she replies: can’t fall asleep.

he texts: i’ll be there soon.

when rafe arrives, he calls her to come downstairs. she tries to climb in the passenger seat, but he tells her to go the back. when she opens the door, she sees that he laid out blankets and a pillow across the backseat.

“what is this?” she asks.

“you said you can’t sleep in your bed. or mine,” he says. “what if i drove around? could you sleep then?”

“are you serious?” she says.

“i’ll park in front of my place when you fall asleep. i’ll stay in the car. just get comfortable, alright?”

she settles in the back, leaning across the seat, following his instructions to still buckle herself in.

“thank you,” she says as he starts to drive. her eyelids are already getting heavy, the steady motion of the car genuinely helping. “sorry i’ve been so stressed out.”

“just sleep, baby,” he says.

“okay,” she whispers.

it works. she dozes off within minutes. he drives around for a while to make sure she’s deep asleep.

after he parks in his driveway, he sprawls out in his seat. this is uncomfortable. he’ll be sore tomorrow. and maybe the next day, which is a game day.

but as he listens to her deep breaths, he doesn’t doubt that she’s worth it. she hasn’t been taking care of herself lately. if he has to do it for her, he will. every time.

[maybe-im-dark]

Nocturnal

Wade burst through the door of their shared apartment, his usual swagger in full swing as he tossed his gear onto the floor. It had been a long day—bullets, blood, and chimichangas—but now, all he wanted was to kick back, harass Logan a bit, and maybe catch some terrible late-night TV with Blind Al. He flicked on the lights, ready to call out, but the words died in his throat the moment his gaze landed on Logan.

Logan was sitting on the couch, completely still, and for a brief second, Wade saw it—Logan's eyes flashed bright yellow, like the eyes of a predator caught in the light. Wade stumbled back, genuinely startled for once, heart pounding against his ribs.

"Holy chimichangas! What the fuck was that?!" Wade blurted out, one had instinctively reach for the katanas on his back.

Logan growled low in his throat, the sound almost vibrating in the dim room, and rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “My eyes.”

Wade blinked, taking in the sight of Logan sprawled out on the couch, looking more annoyed than usual. “Have you been sitting here in the dark the whole time? How do you see anything? That’s like, serial killer behavior, dude.”

Logan leaned back against the cushions, unbothered by Wade’s theatrics. “I see just fine. Don’t know why you felt the need to brighten the whole goddamn room.”

Wade paused, narrowing his eyes, studying Logan in the harsh light. “Wait… You’ve got, like, the whole tapetum lucidum thing going on, don’t you?”

Logan’s brow furrowed, the irritation clear in his voice. “The hell are you talking about now?”

Wade waved his hands excitedly, pacing back and forth, the pieces falling into place with every step. “You know, the tapetum lucidum! It’s that reflective layer in the eyes that gives animals night vision! Like cats and wolves and shit. It makes their eyes glow when light hits them. That’s why yours lit up just now. That’s why you’re always lurking around in the dark like Batman on a bad day!”

Logan sighed, rubbing his temples as if Wade’s voice physically pained him. “Yeah, well. Maybe I see better at night. What’s it to you?”

Wade’s face lit up, his excitement bubbling over as he dropped down onto the couch beside Logan, way too close, practically vibrating with energy. “Dude, this is amazing! You’re like… an actual nocturnal predator! That explains so much. No wonder you’re always pacing around at night, growling and glaring at the moon or whatever it is you do when I’m not around. You’re a damn apex predator who can’t sit still when it’s dark out!”

Logan rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smirk tugging at his lips. “You just figuring this out now?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wade demanded, leaning in closer, eyes wide with fascination. “I mean, this is important roommate information! Like, what if you decided to go full feral one night and chew on my leg or something? Shouldn’t I be warned about these things?”

Logan’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve had someone chewing on you.”

Wade blinked, and then burst into laughter, loud and unrestrained. “You know what? Fair point, fair point. But seriously, does this mean you, like, prefer to hunt in the moonlight? Are you secretly prowling around rooftops while I’m snoring my ass off?”

Shaking his head, Logan settled back into the couch with a sigh. “I don’t hunt. Not anymore. But yeah, I can see just fine in the dark. And if I’m up late, it’s ’cause my body doesn’t care much for sleep. Comes with the territory.”

Wade’s usual banter fell silent for a moment, his expression softening as he watched Logan. For once, his voice dropped, more genuine than Logan had ever heard him. “You know, Logan, there’s nothing wrong with being what you are.”

Logan glanced over, caught off guard by the sincerity in Wade’s tone. He wasn’t used to this—wasn’t used to anyone looking at him like he wasn’t just a weapon, wasn’t just some feral beast waiting to be unleashed. “Maybe,” Logan muttered, looking away, a flicker of vulnerability showing through.

But Wade, being Wade, wasn’t about to let the moment stay heavy for long. His grin returned, wide and unapologetic. “Well, if you ever feel the urge to go hunting, just give me a heads-up. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way. Or… maybe I’ll join you. I’m pretty good at prowling around at night too, you know.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head. “You’d scare off everything within a mile radius, Wade.”

“And yet, here you are,” Wade pointed out with a smirk. “Still haven’t managed to get rid of me.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and genuine, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, the dim light casting long shadows across the room. Wade, ever the troublemaker, leaned in, whispering with a conspiratorial tone. “Just so you know, if you ever want to glow at me again, I’m totally into it.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but the faint smile stayed, lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Idiot.”

And for once, Logan felt like maybe, just maybe, there was someone who understood—someone who saw the animal in him and wasn’t afraid.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, shoot, sorry. Go back to sleep. Sorry.”

Nico shifts, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. The light in the infirmary is low, and strangely soothing. It’s almost hard to keep his eyes open. But he manages, rubbing his knuckles under the curve of his eyesockets, and searches in the dark until he finds what woke him up.

Will stands a couple feet away from his bed, figure curled and shadowy, owlish eyes wide and almost unnaturally reflective in the dark.

“‘S’okay,” he mumbles. “Couldn’t really sleep anyway.”

“Oh.” There’s a shuffling sound, and suddenly Nico feels warmer where Will has stepped closer. “You in pain?“

“No. Just bad at sleeping.”

“Hey, me too.”

Surprise at Will’s easy admission and a little bit starstruck at the bright flash of Will’s grin, Nico doesn’t have the chance to beat himself up over being so flippantly open. His teeth seemed to glow as much as the whites of his eyes, which would be creepy, except it’s hard to feel anything but calm as a cool night breeze wafts the scent of lavender from the sill planters in every inch of the infirmary, and it’s hard to think of Will as anything but warm. Especially the hand he places, briefly, on the curve of Nico’s knee.

“Insomnia?”

“Something like that.”

“Still. Sorry for waking you up.”

Nico hums, fiddling with his skull ring. “Why were you up, anyway?”

“Oh, I won’t have time to sleep for another couple days.”

There’s a mellow cracking sound, and then all of Will’s knuckles begin to glow a soft, sunset yellow. Nico startles.

“Apollo thing,” Will explains. A smirk is now visible at the corner of his mouth, forcing a dimple on his right cheek. In his hands, almost hard to see under the glow, are three small vials of something Nico doesn’t recognize. “Getting meds and salves in order.”

Hesitantly, Nico drags his gaze away from the clinking glass bottles, forcing himself to meet Will’s eyes. They’re ridiculously bright. Is that an Apollo thing, too?

“Why does that mean you can’t sleep?”

Will gestures to the myriad of occupied beds outside the curtains Nico has pulled up. “Shitton of injured, man. I got way more people than I got stuff. I prepped for the Romans beforehand, obviously, but I didn’t have a good hand on their numbers and didn’t prep enough. I’m short on supplies. Haven’t slept since Gaea did.” At Nico’s look of alarm, he quickly assures, “But don’t worry, I had Cecil brew me something strong. It’s disgusting, so I think it might be his Coffee Redbull Matcha Heartstopper Special, With A Shot Of Crushed Caffeine Pills For Good Measure, but I’m not sure. Hands are only a little shakey, though, feel.”

In a mirror of a few days ago (fuck, Nico hopes he’s kidding; how long can people go without sleep?), he darts out and rests his hands under Nico’s. Sure enough, they’re trembling, although nothing nearly as bad as before.

“Dangerous levels of sleep deprivation aren’t as bad as delivering a baby, huh.”

Will shudders. “Don’t even joke.”

He looks so genuinely horrified that Nico can’t help but laugh. All they’ve seen, all they’ve suffered — and golden boy is gagging at the miracle of life. If Nico wasn’t so sure that he’d seen at least as many gory nightmares as Nico, if not more, he’d tease him for being squeamish.

…Actually.

“What kind of school nurse wannabe is squidged out by birth?”

“Nurse?” Will squawks, snatching his hands away (Nico finds his own hands, strangely and suddenly, cold). “I didn’t go to seven years of med school to be called a school nurse wannabe!”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You didn’t go to med school. You’re fifteen.”

“As I said.” He grins teasingly. “I didn’t go.”

It takes Nico a second, but when he gets it he cannot physically hold himself back from kicking him. Solace, weak from muffled laughter, stumbles sideways into a lamp.

“Ay! Be careful, you wanna kill the camp’s only brain surgeon?”

“If he’s being annoying,” Nico bites back. He can’t quite stop smiling, and he’s embarrassed about it, but thankfully the darkness hides his face. “There’s no way you’ve done brain surgery.”

The shitty cot Nico’s been coerced into camping on for the next three days creaks as Will perches on the edge of it.

“Have so. In the woods, two years ago, removed a brain tumour. Stressful as shit.” He flashes another sideways grin. “Couple dozen more medical emergencies under my belt, and I might actually be as qualified as a nurse in this country’s garbage medical system. Thank the gods for them, honestly. They do a shit lot more than a lot of doctors claim to.”

Sensing the topic change for what it is, Nico doesn’t press any further. “That what you wanna do?”

“Aw, man, I don’t even want to think about it. The idea of someone else running this infirmary gives me a stress ulcer. Y’all do a lot of stupid shit and frankly some of the procedures I have performed exist in no medical textbooks anywhere, medical or no.” He snorts. “Anyways.”

His hands are blazingly warm again, almost like sun through a maginifying glass, when they pat his shin twice. He stands, stretching — more bursts of light appearing along the length of his spine, lighting what his fading knuckles leave out.

“Try to sleep again, Neeks. You’ll need it.”

“Maybe I should be the one to say that to you,” Nico says. Will waves his hand dismissively, and in a fit of impulse Nico reaches out and grabs it, meeting his raised eyebrow with a stubborn set to his jaw. “I mean it, Will. No one’s awake right now. I just woke up. Why don’t you crash for an hour or so? I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Will hesitates. “If anything happens, that’s on me. It — I can’t let it be on me.”

“Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. Of course Will doesn’t trust him, Nico let someone die in front of his eyes, Nico is the bringer of death and darkness, why would he —

“Yeah.” Will sighs. Nico looks up, startled, but the medic is eyeing one of the few spare cots, face screwed up in consideration. “You’ll wake me?”

“Immediately,” Nico assures hastily. He nods his head at the bunk next to him. “Sleep, man. You look like you need it.”

“Oh, well, just what I’ve always wanted to hear from you. You look stunning, by the way.”

Nico knows it’s a joke, but he flushes anyway. Thank Hades again for the dark infirmary, and the length of his hair.

“Whatever. Sleep or don’t.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

In seconds he’s out of his flip-flops, slightly-scratchy blankets turned up and wrapped tightly around him all the way up to his neck.

“Thanks, Nico. I owe you.”

In the next breath, he’s out, all that’s visible of him the flutter of his light eyelashes and the tangled mop of blond hair. He snores, slightly, with every puffed exhale; a tiny, stuttered sound, not unlike a cat. It’s kind of cute, and Nico’s smiling before he realising.

“You don’t owe anybody shit.” He shakes his head fondly, leaning back onto his pillows to keep an eye out. “Goodnight, Will.”

[beforeimdeceased]

CRYBABY - (E.W) PT5

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: who the fuck is abby?

a/n: noo don’t do this ellie look at me :( this isn’t you 🥺 LMAO! what do you guys think is going to happened next omg…

if i told you that i hated you, would you go away?

masterlist.

you ubered yourself to another hotel and payed to stay there for the night. letting jesse and dina know, but ofcourse, not awarding ellie with that information. in truth, she was fucking sweating bullets. could barely sleep last night with you on her mind.

she’s mean, you know that. everybody does. she can be intense, brass, and brutally honest. but, the brutality had gone from drunk cursing out strangers to using you as a punching bag. you were far too sensitive for any of that shit. you overthink too much, cry too often. if she wasn’t going to change then this was your last straw.

as you wake up and ready yourself to gather your things, you notice a string of texts from ellie. all desperate and eager. nothing along the lines of “i’m sorry”. nothing close to an apology. she begged to see you before their last show in the state, knowing you’d be going back home after. and staying there.

you’d calmed down enough to know you could face her. collecting the things you’d brought with you and hyping yourself up in the mirror before leaving. “you got this. you’re not gonna cry today.”

when you arrived at your hotel room, the door was cracked open. you’d caught wind that dina and jesse had gone out for breakfast so it was just you and ellie.

sadly enough, when you opened the door, ellie looked like a wounded puppy. eyes glossy while her face is twisted into a frown. you cross your arms. “morning.”

she looks excited to see you, getting up from her seat on the couch to greet you. “morning, can we talk?”

your heart is pinging. you feel so many emotions for her, some you cannot name. you nod your head and walk over to where she’d been sitting, and take a seat. she trails behind you, placing herself just inches away.

“i’m sorry.” she starts, eyes sympathetically looking into your very own. when your gaze starts to falter she reaches out to hold your hands and catch your attention. “really truly. i’m sorry for everything. for the song, for calling you up onstage, for all the shitty things i do to you and say about you. for pissing you off so bad that you felt like punching me, because i know you’re nowhere near violent.” she takes a breath. “i’m really sorry.”

you sit with her apology, soaking it all in. you can tell it’s genuine because, as far as you’re concerned, she’s never apologized for anything and seriously meant it. but she means it now, with every beat of her heart.

“i hate that i ruined this trip for you. are you still coming to our last show? i’ll apologize publicly in front of all the cameras. i’ll tell them i lied about the song.”

“it’s okay ellie. calm down.” you’d never seen her this frantic. this weak. “i’m still coming to the show. thank you for apologizing.”

she takes a deep breath and leans back into the couch. “okay good. that’s great. again, i’m sorry.”

you nod along and stand up to grab some things from the bags you’d left. “i’ve gotta go meet dina and jesse for something, but i’ll see you there, okay?”

when you turn to look at her she’s blushing. what the hell is she doing blushing? when she see’s you notice it, she turns her head. “yeah yeah. you guys have fun. see you later.”

“she’s bringing abby! i’ve always wanted her to come to a show, i didn’t even know she was in the state.” dina rambles on at rehearsal.

“she drove up last night because she’s taking her home, remember?” jesse chimes up.

ellie’s heard the name abby a record 20 times in the last 5 minutes and it’s starting to play on loop in her head like a mantra. she didn’t care to find out who it was though, they had a show to rehearse for. and she was even more nervous about the public apology. what if you didn’t actually show? what if she really fucked up this time?

“alright guys enough chatter. let’s go over the chorus of ‘what you know’ one more time—“

but she’s stopped by dina whispering to jesse. “i think she might ask her out tonight.”

and jesse asks, “who?” and dina says your name and ellie feels like she’s about to fucking collapse. that all her limbs are going to fall off right then and there. that her head will pop off and roll offstage and onto to the ground. who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby?

ellie finds out in the dressing room before the show. “abby! it’s so great to see you.” dina rushes over to give her a hug. jesse settles for a high five and ellie takes a handshake. “so you’re abby?”

“yeah, nice to meet you. i’ve heard so much about you.” abby smiles.

ellie’s cursing herself for any and everything she’s ever done in this moment. the blonde stood in front of her is buff as hell, something she can tell through the hoodie and sweats she was wearing. both being seattle revival merch.

“i can’t wait to see you guys perform.”

ellie ignores her. “where’s…?” she trails. searching behind the girl to see if you’d been hiding behind her big figure. “oh, she’s on her way. had to stop to use the bathroom.” abby responds, sensing you were who she’d been searching for.

ellie wondered if you and abby had started dating yet? who asked out who? how much did abby know about the two of you? was that any of her business? why did she show up now? why hadn’t she heard about her before? maybe she did and wasn’t paying attention? she never really listened to you anyway. not until recently. not until she’d made you cry. made you punch her in the fucking face.

ellie’s thoughts are cut loose when abby taps her on the shoulder. “can we talk?”

ellie nods, eager to do whatever this was going to be in private. “yo, i’ll be right back.” she calls to jesse and dina.

ellie leads her out of the dressing room and into a small area in the hallway that’s getting the least traffic. the second they get there, abby slaps ellie across the face. “don’t you ever fucking talk to her again.”

“who—“ ellie rubs the sore area turning red.

“oh don’t play stupid you know who—“

“no. who the fuck are you to tell me what i can and can’t do? you fucking bitch.”

and a fight ensues. an actual brawl in the hallway. ellie’s on top for a while getting some punches in until abby grabs at her shirt and pulls her to the ground. jabbing her in the stomach. ellie kicks her in the face. it’s almost cartoonish, how wrapped up and wound they are as they lay into each other. someone rushes to grab security but you make it there first. eyes widening as you approach. you call for jesse and dina, and when they recognize your voice it makes them both stop to look up. bloody. scratched up. with tomato red faces.

“what the fuck?”