#they are really going down hand in unlovable hand huh

[mj-slenderman]

Malevolent episode 41 so excited for the boys to fall down and be in big fucked up pits again

[kikyoupdates]

Goddess Wink ⭑˚💘⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will?

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You were four years old when it happened.

As far back as you could remember, you’d lived in an orphanage. You’d never met your real parents, nor did it seem like they had any intention of coming to get you, just based on how your caretakers would act. They tried to convince you that your parents must have had their reasons; that they might not have been in the right place to take care of you, but it served as little reassurance. You felt unwanted, unloved. You wondered what you could have possibly done that your own parents wouldn’t want to be with you—why all of these children were missing their families. You didn’t understand, but it felt unfair. For whatever reason, you were undesirable. At least, that’s the way you felt.

On a rather uneventful day, you were out on the playground with some of the other kids from the orphanage. They were all playing together, but you were off by the sandpit on your own, fiddling with the outfit on your doll. At some point a cluster of them had broken off, and one of the boys came right up to you, grinned, and snatched the doll straight out of your hands.

You frowned at him. “Give it back.”

“Nuh uh,” he jeered. “You’re always so boring, [Name]. You never play with the rest of us.”

“I’m not in the mood to play right now. Can you please give me my doll back?”

“What’s so fun about these dolls anyways?” The boy squinted at the toy in his hands, and without wasting a beat, popped one of the doll’s legs clean off. “Whoa!” he cried out. “They break so easily!”

You felt like you should be bursting into tears, but oddly enough, the tears didn’t come. You were eerily composed, a sense of calm washing over you. Something was telling you there was no reason to get worked up. You felt your chest growing warm, and your eyes began to glow a faint, pink shade. You stepped up to the boy and grabbed him by the wrist.

“You ruined my doll,” you said. “Apologize.”

“Huh—?” He stared back at you, dubious, and something akin to realization overtook his expression. He began to grow red in the cheeks, his breaths became irregular, and he swayed unsteadily on his own two feet. The boy stared down at the doll and its now missing leg in shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “I-I’m so sorry!” he spluttered. “I didn’t mean to… [Name]. I’m really, really sorry!”

You’d never seen the boy act like this before. He was always up to some sort of mischief, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to go around teasing the other girls. You glanced down to where your fingers were laced around his wrist. You tightened your grip, watching the way his blush only deepened.

“I want a new doll,” you told him.

“Of course! I’m so sorry… I’ll tell the supervisors what happened and get you a new one right away, I promise!”

Even his accomplices seemed to be confused. “Dude, why are you apologizing to her? She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else!”

“She thinks she’s too good to play with the rest of us!”

You pulled away from the first boy and stared at the other two. Still hesitant, you reached over and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. You felt something rushing or pulsing through your body. The air felt like it tasted richer, sweeter. And this time you were sure of it—the moment your hand made contact with their bodies, each of the boys grew red in the face and started rocking on their feet as if they were drunk.

“Apologize,” you ordered again.

“We’re sorry, [Name]!”

“So sorry…”

You took a step back and marveled at what had just happened. All three of them were staring at you with flushed, puffy cheeks, as if they were awaiting your next command. Your small limbs were practically oozing with power. You were sure that this must have been what everyone was always talking about—the birth of your Quirk.

“You guys can leave me alone now,” you said, crouching back down inside the sandpit. “Please make sure I get a new doll and tell the supervisors that you were the reason it broke in the first place.”

They nodded their heads furiously, already rushing over to confess their wrongdoings. You hugged your knees to your chest and inhaled shakily. You didn’t know exactly what kind of power it was, but the feeling of others being so helpless before you… it was oddly exhilarating.

—

You explained to the caretakers the gist of what had happened, and they began speculating as to what type of power you had. It was worth noting that while some became more interested in you as a result of your newly-developed Quirk, others were a bit more apprehensive after finding out what had happened to the three boys. The teachers and caretakers instructed you not to use your Quirk on others needlessly, since you presumably had a power that could control people.

Of course, you didn’t listen.

The next couple of weeks cleared up some questions you had about your Quirk. To be more exact, you weren't consciously using it. It was a difficult power to control, and you would find that it activated on its own without your awareness. It became evident that your Quirk didn’t simply enable you to control others; there were other aspects to it that you were struggling to grasp. You were too young and naive to make sense of it all, but the one thing that was seemingly apparent was that your powers relied on attracting others to you.

You’d been rather quiet and reserved for the majority of your stay at the orphanage, but now the others flocked to you like birds. The boys especially seemed most susceptible to your powers. They would follow you around for near hours at a time, even going so far as to give you presents that you hadn’t even asked for. On some occasions, the caretakers themselves would tilt their heads and smile, saying what a “cute, charming girl” you were, before letting you get away with things that normally wouldn’t have been allowed.

At first, you thought you liked your Quirk. You were getting more attention than you ever had, and for the first time, you felt loved and desired. You thought that maybe if you’d been born with this power, your parents might not have abandoned you. All of the boys in the orphanage loved you, all of the girls wanted to be your friends, and they would each go to any lengths to make you happy. You could get anything you wanted. Truly, it was the best possible Quirk.

But this too, was a fleeting feeling. Before long, the attention became overbearing. You could never get away from it all, from the looks of desire and adoration. The friendships you’d developed with the children started to feel less genuine and more fabricated. You felt like they weren’t really your friends; that your power was just forcing them to be. These ugly thoughts started to pile on more and more, to the point that you began to resent your Quirk. You couldn’t control the power leaving your body, and it felt as if you were living life trying to navigate through a misty pink haze.

Several months passed, and a visitor came to the orphanage.

“I’ve come to take you in, [Name].”

It was a man with pin-straight black hair and striking red eyes. He introduced himself as Mikael, and declared that he’d already filled out all the required paperwork to adopt you. The orphan children began to cry, lamenting the fact that you would be leaving them. You were both relieved and anxious. Even if you couldn’t control your powers, here, at least, you could rest easy knowing that everyone adored you. You’d spent all of your life in the orphanage, and you were a little afraid to leave.

This guy will probably listen to anything I say anyways…

Mikael held you by the hand and led you outside once you’d bid farewell to everyone. He looked down at you, eyes gleaming, a faint smile ghosting across his lips. “I think you’ll find that your Quirk will have no effect on me, descendant of Aphrodite.”

“Aphrodite?”

You stared up at him, confused. He didn’t answer your question and instead chuckled to himself.

“Not to worry. I will teach you how to control your Quirk in due time. You’ve been blessed with a gift, young one. A beautiful power capable of touching the hearts of many.”

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[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️

hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?

“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”

You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left. 

You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air. 

“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.” 

You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?” 

The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.” 

You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard. 

Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.” 

Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”

You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.

“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his. 

Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that. 

Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.

You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore. 

‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him. 

You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…” 

“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm. 

Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.

“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss. 

Was this what love felt like?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[finxwrites]

strange & grimm, which btw sounds like an urban fantasy affectionately parodic hardboiled detective agency. probably queer.

It was a hot, muggy night in the Enchanted Forest. Everyone with a lick of sense was down in the fairy glens, hoping the Winter Court would put in an appearance and bring a breeze on with them. Lucky me, I’m the sucker who fingered the Snow Queen for the missing persons case last winter, so I’m persona non grata in the fairy glens these days.

Just as well. I couldn’t afford to leave the office, not when it’d been so long since my last case. Though on a night like this, I might as well not bother. It was too hot for crime. Even the leaves on the enchanted trees were drooping in the heat. 

I was just about to call it a night when a dame walked in my door. Tall, blonde, legs for days, with an air of tragedy that could put an unloved stepchild to shame. I looked her over suspiciously for any cheery woodland creatures hidden in her golden ringlets. If she was a princess, I’d turf her right back out of the office, case unheard. Princesses paid well, but they were more trouble than they were worth.

No mice poked their adorable little noses out of her pockets as the dame sank into a chair and fixed me with a hard look. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” she said without preamble. “And I need the best.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Baby, I’m the only one in the business. It’s not a good genre for private dicks.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, far too child-friendly for any sort of dicks.” Before I could recover from that little gem, she went on, “It’s a child I’m here about. My sister. She’s…she’s gone missing.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Please, Detective, you’re my last hope. The royal courts won’t hear me out, they think she’s gone on the lam!”

I nodded grimly. “One of those Bo Peep situations, huh?” I get a depressing number of those. All it takes is one wolf in sheep’s clothing—you’d think the kids would learn.

The dame glared. There was enough cold iron in her gaze to put a fairy off her ambrosia. “On the lam, Detective. On the run. My sister has…something of a record.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Your sister the child? She some kind of crime prodigy?”

The dame fidgeted, looking away. “She’s…” She sighed explosively. “My sister is Goldilocks.”

I whistled, low and long. Crime prodigy indeed—Goldilocks was wanted in five kingdoms for the most impressive string of burglaries the Enchanted Forest had ever seen. No one could ever prove she’d done it, but the circumstantial evidence had piled up higher than mattresses on a pea. No wonder no royal court would take this case.

The dame’s shoulders hunched defensively, but she bulled on without trying to defend her wayward sister. “She’s gone missing, and I know it’s not another one of her sprees. Something is wrong this time.” She turned back to meet my eyes, her lovely features harsh with poorly-suppressed fear. “It’s her first crime come back to haunt her, I just know it is. They’ve always wanted revenge—especially the baby of the family, and he’s all grown up now. What they’d do if they got hold of her—“ She cut herself off with a watery gasp; her eyes were wet with tears. “Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!”

I handed her a handkerchief and gave her a minute to compose herself. It gave me a minute, too, to decide if I was really going to be this stupid. You don’t tangle with the big predators, not if you know what’s good for you, and especially not a whole family of them. Families are a dangerous thing in any genre.

But I was her last hope, and I’m a sucker for lost causes. And if I didn’t get paid soon, this business would become a lost cause itself. I said a silent farewell to my good sense as it packed its bags and left for kinder climes. “Alright,” I told the dame, “Give me the facts. We’ll see what kind of a story they tell.”

[usiel21]

The courting gift.

Thing: What about a diamond?

Wednesday: Don't be ridiculous Thing, Enid is worth more than any mere dia-

Thing: Oh no, i know that look.

Wednesday: Thing you are a genius.

Thing: ...This isn't going to end well.

1 Hour Later...

Wednesday: Enid, a family matter has arisen that i must attend to, I will be back by the end of the weekend.

Enid: Uh yeah sure, everything okay?

Wednesday: (Pause) Yes, it cannot wait. Don't wait up and if i shan't return, burn this school down and everyone inside.

Enid: Wow... you're such a psychopath! (Giggles)

Wednesday:

Wednesday: Flattery will... it won't... (Sigh) Los halagos no te llevarán a ninguna parte cuando ya me has capturado, en cuerpo, mente y alma.

Enid: (Smiling widely) I Love you too!

Wednesday: (Quietly) Do not jest with your words Mi loba.

Two Days Later...

Enid is stood in the common room of Ophelia Hall, watching the news with Yoko and Divinia.

News Presenter: ...We have some upsetting breaking news, The Tower of London was broken into last night where thieves took the Koh i noor, a diamond that was set in the crown of the Queen Mother. With an estimated value of Three Hundred Million Pounds, the jewel is said to be priceless. The Metropolitan Police in conjunction with Palace officials have confirmed that currently there are no suspects, this is without doubt one of the greatest heists in history, although authorities are baffled that only one item was taken.

Enid: Wow... what kind of person would steal from a dead woman's crown. (Shaking her head) Anyway laters, Wednesday is due back at any moment!

Yoko: (Grinning) Like a puppy eagerly awaiting their owners return at the door.

Enid: (Blushing) Shut up. Anyway i'll see you later!

Enid rushes up a flight of stairs, two steps at a time, a bounce in her step. She had missed Wednesday. She had missed her so much. She pushes open the door making Wednesday flinch.

Enid: Wends!

Wednesday: (Turning around sharply, hiding something behind her back) Mi loba.

Enid: (Narrowing her eyes.) What's behind your back?

Wednesday: ...Nothing.

Enid folds her arms with a pointed glare and tilt of her head.

Wednesday sighs, knowing she can't lie to Enid, not anymore, brings the item in front of her.

Enid: Wednesday... please tell me you have a really, really good reason for having the fucking Koh-i-noor in our dorm room???

Wednesday: (Weakly) I stole it for you. I planned to give it to you this coming full Moon. To court you.

Enid:

Enid: Wends... all you had to do was ask me out for a coffee or something, not commit the greatest heist in living history! (Tearily) But oh em gee, you did this? for me?

Wednesday: I would do anything for you, my fierce, fluorescent wolf.

Enid: (Preening and blushing) Oh my gosh... I'm going to have to get used to that huh?

Wednesday: (Striding forwards) As long as I breathe every breath will be spent making sure you never feel unloved ever again.

Enid: (Squeaking as Wednesday gets within several inches of Enid's face)

Enid: You...I...uh... you love me?

Thing:

Thing: Oh fer fuck sake, just propose already!

45 Mins later...

Thing: These lesbians, i can't anymore. They keep making googly eyes at each other from across the room and smiling, a hand can only stand to watch so much you know?

Weems: Wait... Wednesday AND Enid???

Thing: YES!

Weems: Wednesday smiling?

Thing: YES!

Weems: (Muttering) God help us all...

(The Koh-i-noor is never found)

[jiminiecrickets]

jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.2k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, handjobs, praise, shower sex

"you agreed. you pinky-promised. was what you wrote really that bad?"

he shifts on the couch, tucking his feet up to his chin and hiding his face behind it. his face is a very, very dark shade of red. "it's awful. horrible. you'll break up with me if you read it."

"then why'd you write it down in the first place?"

"i don't know!" he whines. "i was feeling brave!"

you set down the controller. on the large flat-screen tv, your characters circle the mario kart track behind the scoreboard. waluigi, jungkook's character, throws a tantrum in his race-car. "give me the paper."

"you'll hate me."

fourth place. fourth place. he can't believe himself. your name is highlighted at the top, neatly settled in first place. he'd been so comfortable, in the lead for the entirety of the match, and his big ego decided that an 'all or nothing' pity round would come out in his favour.

as quick as lighting, you snatch the crumpled ball of paper and unfold it, slapping jungkook's panicked hands away. your brows furrow deeper the longer you look at it.

"you're right. you were feeling brave."

jungkook slumps against your shoulder, his face pinched in embarrassment. "please don't think badly of me because of it, hyung..."

lowering the torn corner of paper, you ask softly, "would you like to do this with me, kookie? i'm interested."

his head shoots up. "what? are you serious?"

"no, i'm batman." he rolls his eyes with a huff and you grin, eyes crinkling as you pull him into your side. "yes, i'm being serious. thank you for telling me – i would never have expected something like this out of my cute little boyfriend."

if possible, his pout intensifies. he crosses his arms over his knees, staring determinedly ahead at the game. "'m not little."

you hush him, tilting his face towards you and pressing a long kiss to those pretty pink lips. he hums breathily, leaning into you with a hand on your chest. he whines quietly when you finally pull away for air, his chest heaving as he blinks at you with wide, dark eyes.

"seven days," he whispers, leaning in and throwing his leg over your lap, caging your thighs with his own. he rocks his hips slowly, savouring your low groan of pleasure. "seven days to fuck me whenever and wherever you want. that's your prize, baby – don't waste it."

eyeing his body hungrily, you grin like a beast unchained. you cradle his tiny waist, and playfully, you lift your hand against it, comparing sizes. "oh, darling, i'm not letting a single inch of you go unloved."

he nibbles on his lower lip as you tug his shirt out of the waistband of his ripped jeans. he's due for his gym session tomorrow – goes every two or three days, whatever he can fit into his schedule – and he'd made lunch for the two of you just a few hours ago. his skin is warm, his tummy soft, and it tenses with a gasp under your palms as they glide across his skin.

"mh... sorry, baby," he whispers, lashes fluttering as he blushes a dusty pink. "i should've done this on gym day..."

"hm? why?" you rock his ass against your lap with a soft exhale. you arch a brow at him. "do you think you're only attractive to me when you're hungry and dehydrated? idiot."

"hey," he whines, a protesting pout adorning his lips. he touches your hand on his stomach, fingers wrapping around yours. "'m not an idiot! just... i dunno... i wanna be handsome for you, hyung, y'know?"

you give him a look. "did i ask you out, or your abs?"

"well, me..."

"i asked you out after we finished three large pizzas at two in the morning. i think we ate about a kilo of cheese each."

he snorts. "yeah, yeah... i guess."

"uh-huh." you squeeze his hips and bring him down to kiss him, lips moving gently together. you part and bury your nose in his neck, lazily moving your hips against one another. he moans softly as you roll your palm against his bulge. "baby, you're always beautiful to me. on gym day or not – i would worship you for hours if you'd let me."

he giggles softly. "that's why i don't. you gotta be more productive than being buried between my thighs from dawn to dusk." he slips your belt free and tosses it – you barely felt him doing it, too busy engraving the sight of his sweet eyes and smile into the backs of your eyelids. "but, you know, a whole week to do whatever you want to me..."

you groan lowly at the suggestion, hastily pulling him out of his pants. you don't do it with half the grace that he does, but he seems to appreciate your enthusiasm, his cock already hard and twitching with anticipation. "mm, that does sound amazing. okay, ground rules: no touching yourself at any point. only i can get you off."

"fuck, o-okay, hyung. agreed."

you pump his cock slowly, capturing his lips hungrily. he drawls out a moan, his fingers drifting up your wrist. his other hand cradles the back of your head and he presses your foreheads together, his breath warm and quick against your cheek.

you flick your wrist and he whimpers softly, grip tightening around the base of your hand. his cock leaks as he bucks into your hand. you hush him, grazing your lips along his jawline. your hand quickens. "how does that feel, baby? good?"

"mm – mmhm," he whimpers. "it does, it does! feels really good..."

you spoil him too much. ever since you got together, he hasn't needed to touch himself – you're always right there, offering to do it for him. he's glad that you do – you can reach places so deep in him that he never knew existed, and you're always so gentle with him, making sure his pleasure is a priority.

he's dated a lot of people, but you're the first one who makes him feel so loved and important. it's almost embarrassing how much he loves you, how much he adores the way you pamper him.

he sniffles softly, burying his face in your shoulder. he grinds into your fist, cock dripping precome down your knuckles.

you hum softly, wrapping an arm around his waist. "you okay, darling? this too much?"

he shakes his head. "n-no... keep going. please. i love you."

it's sudden, and you stop moving for a half-second in surprise. "i love you, too, jungkookie. is everything alright?"

he nods, grabbing your hand and moving it up and down his swollen cock. it's cute and flushed red, twitching in your palm excitedly. "mhm. i just really love you – want you to know that."

who knew that love confessions mid-handjob could be so adorable? you smile into his hot skin and cradle him close as he gasps and jerks into your hand, spilling onto your shirt with a soft whimper.

for a long while, he remains completely lax in your arms, panting softly against your neck as he comes down from his high. when he opens his eyes tiredly, you smile down at him and kiss his cheek, tucking him back into his pants.

he whines quietly, reaching for your belt. "you didn't finish, baby... i can feel how hard you are."

you hum softly, tugging his hand away. "you need a shower, anyway. can i join you?"

his lower lip slips teasingly between his teeth. his eyes sparkle. "mm, of course. you're not getting away so easily, hyung-ah – i'm gonna eat you alive."

you smirk, letting him drag you to your feet and towards the bathroom. his eyes glint with mischief and he pulls you down by your collar to meet your lips with his, one of his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. his thumb is hooked through a belt loop.

you groan into his mouth as he strokes your clothed bulge with a cheeky grin. "baby, don't test me. i'm the one with the week-long free pass to your ass."

 he winks. "why d'you think i'm doing this? last one into the shower loses!"

he wins. with the steamy water hitting your back, you cage jungkook against the glass, your arms sturdy beside him. you keep him safe, protected, from the world. not once does he feel trapped – not once does he feel confined in your love. no matter how closely you press against him, no matter how deep you are inside of him – you are his, and he is yours.

there's a certain freedom in being engulfed by your arms. he never expected it. spreading his thighs, kissing his shoulder – you love him like no other has. you love him in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't because you're overflowing with it, that love of yours. even when you're balls deep inside him – an exciting, dirty kind of love that he blushes about in the mornings – you're smiling into his neck, murmuring about how lovely he is and how he deserves you, deserves your cock, deserves your love and deserves all that is good and bright. it's your turn to lavish him with love confessions and he can barely keep track of them all, his coherent thoughts running down the drain with each solid thrust of your hips.

"hyung," he whimpers, gnawing on his lower lip. he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers scrabbling for purchase fruitlessly against the smooth glass. your cock glides against his prostate and he grabs your hip, pulling you into him with a warbled moan. "f-fuck..."

"what's that, baby?" you murmur against his skin, hot and slick. your thrusts make him unravel, strong and hard and consistent against that spot inside him that makes him see stars. it's mind-melting. "you wanna tell me something?"

he whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as your hips shift against his ass, angling differently. your cock just grazes his prostate and he clenches around you, a warbled cry of your name leaving his lips. he feels so tiny – his feet between yours, your cock buried so deep in him he can practically taste it. he arches his back, tight ass pressing back against your pelvis, and savours your growl and the way your hand grips the opposite side of his waist, gripping the slim shelf of his hip.

"gotta use your words, pretty thing," you husk. with every thrust, it takes longer to bottom out, and eventually your hips still entirely. he whines, high-pitched and wanton, and grinds against you – you keep him at bay with one hand pressed firm to the small of his back. "easy, pretty. can you do that f'me? can you talk to me, tell me what you want from me?"

you step forward, forcing jungkook to stand straighter, pressed closer to the glass. trapped in your arms, he has no room to move, no room to argue. he shivers, chest grazing glass, and can't help the unsteady shuffle of his feet. the hot, steamy water hits your back and glides down your neck, your chest, dripping onto his shoulders.

lifting a hand, you tuck it against his upper ribs, fingers pressed into the lean muscle of his chest. the flesh – pull and push, stroking and caressing. he lets out a whisper of a moan as your warm fingers flick over his nipple, hard and pebbled.

"want you," he whines quietly, voice cracking in the middle when your hand travels down his hot, slick stomach and glides over his throbbing cock. he grabs your hip, fingers digging into you until his knuckles turn white. "w-want you – want you close to me, closer, please, want you closer—"

he breaks off with a babble as you take his hands and pin them flat to the glass. the motion draws you ever nearer – closer, as he'd say, the sweet thing – and your cock reaches so deep inside him, pressing against his stomach. he's dizzy with it, veins buzzing and head detached from his shoulders.

eventually, he hears your chuckle, like a radio knob turned slowly louder. his heart rabbits in his chest as he cracks open his eyes, temple pressed against the cold clear glass. his breath fogs it, and water trails down his cheeks from his damp hair, stuck to his skin the way it always does when you tear him apart and put him back together. his cock is wet and sticky, the heat tingling in his lower spine with a pulsing desperation.

it's all over his tummy, he thinks distantly with a soft whimper. he'd be embarrassed if he could remember the word.

when you finally finish, jungkook's legs feel like jelly. he curls his fingers around yours, lacing them together as he pants against the foggy glass, his hair damp and the air thick with the smell of sex. you kiss him over his shoulder and he moans against your lips, soft and tired. he smiles and closes his eyes as you reach for the shampoo – he leans back against your chest as you smooth your hand down his stomach, gentle and warm. he can feel your pulse through your palms and your heart through his ribs.

"i love you," he whispers against your throat. he means it in every iteration it has ever been.

[itsabouttimex2]

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

[makeadealwithme]

Not Like This

Summary: Steve's surprised when you try to kiss him at a party, and he scrambles to tell you how he really feels.

Author's note: took some inspo from New Girl (iykyk), slightly angsty with a sweet ending. Can you tell I love friends-to-lovers?

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking/party, love confessions. use of y/n, she/her pronouns.

Word Count: ~6.1k Thank you all <3 ___________________________________________________

You and Steve are sitting outside on the curb, a little bit away from the noise and chatter of the party, splitting a cigarette between the two of you with knees pressed against each other. You lean your head onto his shoulder, it feeling too heavy to hold up any longer. "Shit Steve, I don't think this is helping me sober up," you complain, fully aware that you drank a little too much tonight and that it was going to take a lot more than a cigarette to clear your head.  

Steve chuckles, shoulder shaking underneath you while he tosses the butt to the side. “Just how many drinks have you had huh?” He pokes an elbow into your side in jest.  

“Not as many as you, Harrington.” You retort. You hear him scoff above you. 

“Yeah, but you’re a lightweight, so it’s like...double as bad or some shit.”  

It was your turn to scoff back. “Hey! You were the one who said a party would cheer me up.” You start doing a mock impression of Steve from earlier - “Come out with me y/n, blow off some steam, it’ll be fun I promise you.” 

“Hm, did I say that? Doesn’t sound like me,” he responds sarcastically before taking a breath. “I’m sorry you’ve had such a shit day," he said turning into you a little bit more, temple resting on the top of your head, voice going soft. "Ready to tell me about it?" He knows that now is the right time to ask, when your defenses are down and when your lips are a little loose.  

It practically spills out of you as you proceed to tell him about the shitty customers at work, how your coworkers were all out so it was understaffed, how Robin ditched your lunch plans and didn’t answer when you called her, quickly skating over the fact that when you called Steve too it also went to voicemail. You tell him that when you went home, your dinner was cold and half eaten on the counter with a note left by your brother that he was sorry but he was just so hungry and had no time to get his own food and he just couldn't save it for you. To top it off, Jackson Peters rejected you about two hours ago, and proceeded to make out with another girl over on the couch, even though he swore he wanted to take you out next week. You kept rambling, talking about how you felt alone, you felt pretty unloved, and now you were at a party full of people who barely acknowledged you so you decided to drink it away (per Steve’s suggestion, you remind him), which lead to you sitting on the curb outside with him (which you thank him for) and you tell him you'll be over it by tomorrow but if you could both just sit there a little longer that would be much appreciated. Steve stays silent for a moment, unsure if you were finished talking or planning to continue, but once he's sure he wraps his arm around your back, pulling and shifting your body into him, your legs half coming over his, and he just hugs you. You feel his hands glide over your back, warming you gently.  

"I'm sorry about today. I'm sorry the party didn't help. I'm sorry I didn't pick up when you called..." he trails off and you feel him take in a deep breath, you do the same, albeit yours a little shakier "I swear I'm always here for you, I want to be, I swear." 

 "It's ok Steve. You are. It was just a lot today, I’m fine, really," you breathe out, trying to add a little laugh to your voice. He nods and you feel his hands go to rest on your shoulders. 

“Ok but seriously, you’re upset about Jackson Peters? Haven’t we been over this before - you could do so much better; you know that right?” Steve’s voice sounds pitched but he follows it with a cheeky grin and laugh that causes your chest to swell.  

“Ugh Steve c’mon that’s not true,” you couldn’t stop it from coming out whiny, a small giggle escaping along with it.  

“It totally is true! The kid failed his driver's test three times y/n, did you know that?” 

“What! No way, Steve, you’re being mean” you tease him.  

“I’m just telling the truth y/n! I'm never letting you get you get in car with him.” 

“That would’ve been years ago!” 

“I don’t even know how you do that, even Max can drive better.”  

You turn to look him in the eye, an incredulous look on your face.  

“...Three times?”  

“Three times.” 

You think for a moment, Steve swears he can hear the cogs turning in your head. “Alright... I guess I’m not too upset about that then.”  

“That's my girl!” Steve beams. As he says it, he goes to tickle your sides, causing you to squeal and squirm in his arms. Both of you erupt into drunken laughter, so much so your eyes are watering. You mutter 'unbelievable’ to him, with an extra playful hit to Steve’s chest for good measure as you both settle back down. You’re closer than before, almost in his lap, with his head resting on top of yours and arms wrapping around you. The closeness, the warmth, the comfort, is going straight to your head and making it feel fuzzy. You know your inhibitions were lowered, judgement a little off, but you just couldn't help it as you turned your head upward, eyes on his neck. You press a gentle kiss to the bottom of his throat, pausing for a second. He doesn't turn away. It emboldens you as you move higher and press another one to his neck, this time a bit firmer, more noticeable. Feeling courageous, you let your lips trail up to his jaw and you tentatively place one there. You're surprised again when he still doesn't move. You two have never kissed before, not like this, nothing more than a kiss of the cheek goodbye as friends would. You don't dare open your eyes as you bring your hand to the other side of his face, lightly pushing his chin towards you as you kiss along his jaw, nearing so close to his lips. You never look at him but you swear you can hear him sigh a little in your ear, throat swallowing roughly, jaw opening slightly. You shift your body into him as you place a final kiss near the side of his chin before you feel him grip your hips and abruptly push you off him, firm but kind, and he quickly leaps up off the curb. You're struck by surprise, brain still working a little slow and your hands still held like they were on him. However, the realization hits you like a wave as your eyes widen in shock and words start tumbling out of your mouth "oh...fuck, shit, oh my god Steve... I - " 

 Steve looks just as panicked as you and starts spewing words out at the same time, reaching out to you. "No, no! Oh my god, shit it's fine I'm not upset or anything I just can't, I'm sorry... I just - " you stand up, the humiliation burning, all you want to do is run away from him.  

"Steve I'm so sorry I didn't mean to... I just... I just – shit! I'm sorry I'll go, I'll go," you say, pushing past him and walking back towards the house. Steve follows after you for a few steps, his long legs quickly catching up to you as he clutches your arm and turns you to look at him  

"No y/n you don't have to go, please. I didn't mean to push you off like that, I liked it – fuck! -I mean, I just meant..." 

 "No Steve stop. I swear I didn't mean to cross a line."  

"N- no you didn't, I want to, I do, just not like this - I won't let it - it can't happen like this." He's weaving around you trying to look you in the eye and make you hear him, but you’re already turned away and wrenching your arm from his grip, rushing to the house to disappear and be swallowed by people. You feel hot in the face as a dose of shame and embarrassment come over your body "god I'm so stupid oh my god" you chant to yourself in your head, how could you let your feelings come to the surface like that? Steve was your best friend, your best fucking friend, and now you've gone and screwed it all up.  

 As you make your way back into the party you head straight for the drinks, picking up whatever shooter was left over and downing it. You snag a can of beer in your hand too, thinking it might prolong a buzz to stave off the guilt. You quickly glance around the party, looking for Robin or Nancy or anyone else that you knew, but your eyes fixated on the tuft of long brown hair peeking through the crowd frantically making its way closer to you. "Shit" you mutter, you can't face him yet, and you quickly turn and make your way out the back door, through the garden, to the side gate and slipping through before anyone noticed. Your pace is fast as you make your way down the alley, out on to the street and you start in the direction towards your house, knowing you'll have to walk fast if you plan on making it home anytime soon. You're thankful the night wasn't chilly, you're thankful Hawkins was (generally) safe and quiet, and you stuck to the shadows of the main roads hoping that Steve wouldn’t pull up behind you. The entire walk home images flashed in your head of Steve, you felt his warm neck against your lips, his strong hands on your back, the coldness when he separated you. You shudder in shame. You couldn't help but feel some tears prick in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. It was frustrating, the way your thoughts seemed to drag through your mind. You settle for woefully drinking the stolen beer as you kept walking home, hoping it would put out the burn in your gut.   

It wasn't much later after you got to your house that Steve drove down your street, sober and stressed about you. He spent the whole drive home searching the sidewalks, hoping you weren't still walking, hoping you were safe. He felt so stupid for pushing you off - he admits to himself he almost didn't. Your lips felt like hot fire against his neck, he swore he could still feel the lingering heat. He never expected this from you, thinking you were content with your friendship. So, he never made a move even though he knew he wanted to - he certainly planned it out in his head all the time. He felt like a teenager daydreaming about his first crush. He thought about sweeping you off your feet, some simple but meaningful declaration of love on his lips, he thought about you saying it back too. It didn’t matter where to him - on his front porch, your backyard, the front seat of his car, or on your couch late at night after a movie – it just mattered that it was you and that it was a place you both shared. He certainly didn't envision it happening on curb, you a little too drunk and pissed off after a bad day, and him, not quite with it himself outside of a stranger's house, cigarette smoke on his breath and a waft of some other girl’s perfume on his clothes from earlier in the night. He never saw it like that, and it caught him off guard. The guilt bubbled in him, he never wanted to upset you.   

As he neared your house, he peered out his car window and saw the light in your bedroom and the singular shadow moving through the curtain. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, just glad that you made it home ok. He sits for a moment, debating if he should go up to the door. In the midst of his battle, he sees the light flicker off. His lips purse together, slightly cursing himself for being a coward as he starts to quietly roll down your street, time for him to go home as well. I'll talk to her tomorrow, he thinks to himself, he sees you every day anyways.  

The next morning.  

It's early. Maybe a little too early after last night when Steve rings your doorbell, nervously mussing with his hair. To be honest, he probably should've thought more about what he was going to say but it didn't matter, he just knew he had to see you. Maybe take you out for breakfast and help cure the hangover he was sure you had. He stands there expectantly but his face falls to a frown after about a minute passes, so he rings the doorbell again. He listens intently, not hearing any movement. Checking his watch, he silently curses to himself for being an early riser (he knew you weren't) and waits another minute. There’s a fleeting thought that you might be avoiding him, but he runs it off with the hope that you’re just sleeping. Debating whether to ring the bell one more time, his watch catches his eye again. Maybe he should wait an hour? His brain was having a hard time being logical, only driven by wanting to see you. He stood at your door and convinced himself that maybe breakfast after a night out probably wasn't such a good idea, and that he probably should let you sleep, and that you'll probably come visit him at work later (like you always do) and maybe you two can grab dinner after or something. Yeah, sounds like a plan, he thinks. So, he leaves, drives off, and tries to push out the gnawing feeling in his stomach that something feels off "probably just the hangover” he mutters.   

It's the afternoon as Steve and Robin putter about the video store, putting away movies and recounting the stories from last night. "Steve, where were you? I was totally making a fool of myself right in front of Vickie, I told you I couldn't be left alone at parties." Robin groans, sticking her head around one of the shelves she was stacking. 

"Uh yeah sorry, must've been outside with y/n, needed to sober up," his apology was flat, his mind still caught somewhere else. Robin stops for a minute, choosing her next words carefully. 

 "You two were alone?"  

“Mhm” Steve nods his head, eyes avoiding Robin’s.  

“And...did anything happen?” 

"What? No! ...No" 

 "You sure about that? You’re sounding pretty defensive Stevie" 

“Jesus Robs what’s with the interrogation huh?” He turns to fiddle with the stapler at the desk. 

“Steve cut it out. You’ve been acting on edge all day, there’s clearly something you’re not telling me.” 

Steve breaks. Honestly - he can't hide anything from Robin. He recounts the whole moment, albeit keeping some of the details a little loose, and how he drove around last night for you, and how he stopped by this morning to see you and there was no answer, and finished by pointing out the fact that you would’ve stopped in by this point in the day and you haven’t yet. “Don’t you think that’s weird? Like, she’s definitely avoiding me, right?”  

Robin takes a second to internally sort out her feelings. Part of her was exploding, because she’s been rooting for the two of you to get together for what felt like forever, and part of her was restraining herself from smacking Steve upside the head for fumbling so hard. She knew you as well, knew how sensitive you could be and knew that yes, you were definitely avoiding him right now.  

“You absolute idiot.” Robin would admit later that no, that probably wasn’t the right choice of words for this exact moment. The smack on the head that she couldn’t stop herself from delivering with it maybe wasn’t the best choice either. 

“Seriously?! What did I do to warrant that?” Steve exclaims. 

“Steve, she made a move on you. That takes a lot of guts alright? You could’ve at least tried to let her down easier.” Steve’s face contorts in confusion at her words but when he goes to speak Robin cuts him off again, “Plus you’ve literally been crushing on her for forever, I thought you wanted this. I don’t get it!” She doesn’t realize how loud her voice is getting.  

“I do Robin! I do! Just not like that, y’know? And I didn’t mean to let her down badly, ok? I didn’t mean to let her down at all. It’s just, well you know how bad I am with words Robin and I was caught off guard. I didn’t think it would happen like that. You get that right?”  

“‘Just not like that.’ Since when did you get so precious about how you kissed girls Steve? She was literally right there on top of you... Are you feeling alright?” Robin lurches forward to Steve, trying to feel his forehead in a half joking, half concerned way. He swats her hand down.  

Robin takes a step back, shit eating grin on her face. “Dude, you’re like...in deep huh?” Robin's eyebrows are practically in her hairline. Steve thinks she looks far too amused for her own good. He groans in frustration practically collapsing on the counter in front of him. Forehead against the cool surface, he grumbles, “what the hell am I going to do.”  

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for Steve. You gotta apologize, and tell her how you feel. In full sentences this time. Don’t let her get the wrong idea again,” Robin tries to soften her tone as best as she could but she’s not sure she achieved it. “Dingus” she mutters as she saunters off to help the customers that walked in. Steve wallows the rest of his shift.  

He drives home in a daze after work, his thoughts a jumbled mess and still reeling from his conversation with Robin. He decides not to stop by your house again, being careful not to bother you too much and make things even more awkward, and tried to call instead. He reaches for his phone in the kitchen, dials your number automatically and waits, leaning against his counter. He hears it ring over and over again. No answer. His frown deepens ever so slightly. Maybe he typed the number wrong? So he tries you again with no luck. He feels a slight ache in his chest, some small upset feeling that sure reminds him of being homesick. 

Pushing the thoughts aside he tries to keep himself busy for the rest of the night until he sleeps, repeating over and over to himself that you were probably just tired, didn’t want to leave the house today, were working late, hanging with some other friends, something, anything to explain your absence. Steve barely slept that night, hearing phantom phone rings in his sleep. This was weird; even in your worst arguments you would still talk to him, still pick up when he called. Any day you didn’t see each other you would both end up saying goodnight over the phone anyways, and he’s reluctant to admit how much he loved it. He loved hearing you wish him goodnight, soft and sweet; he swore he slept better those nights than any others. 

The second day was even worse. 

It's nearing the end of another shift at Family Video and you still haven't shown. Steve can't help but let a frown slowly settle into his face with each passing minute. He would feel that gnawing feeling in his stomach creep in, anxiety filling his mind, as he replays the scene over and over again. Steve was restless all shift and it pissed Robin off, watching him pace around the store, tap his foot while waiting behind the desk. He kept looking at the clock and snapping his head every time the door opened.  

“Steve cut it out, seriously,” Robin whined at him.  

“I can’t Robin, I won’t stop thinking about it. What if she’s really not ok? For Christ’s sake, she won’t even answer the phone.” He’s almost spitting the words at her, sick of having to explain himself over and over.  

“Why don’t you try calling her from here? She might pick up since she knows you're at work?” Robin has been trying to help all morning. First it was helping Steve write a speech (before he tore it all up), then it was running him around the store to burn off energy (he was still agitated afterwards), and now Robin seems to have found a suggestion that might actually stick. 

Steve mulls it over in his head, “why don’t you call? She might talk to you more than me.” Robin wordlessly picks up the phone and dials as Steve recites your phone number to her. There is a tense few moments, Steve pressed up close to Robin’s face listening for the rings of the phone. After about 4 times through he is about to pull away before he hears a faint ‘hello?’ come from the other end. 

“Y/N! Hey, it’s Robin...”    

“Hey Robs, what’s going on, thought you were at work?” Steve was practically suffocating Robin at this point to hear your voice. He couldn’t tell how you sounded through the phone. Robin shot him an annoyed glance and tried to take a step back.  

“Yeah, yeah I am. Just got bored, was wondering if you wanted to stop by? Haven’t seen you in a few days...” Robin keeps her voice light as she shares a look with Steve, he practically freezes in place, holding his breath so to not make a sound.  

“Oh... Right, yeah...” he hears you pause over the line, “listen I'm sorry but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in... busy today.” You trail off for a second, guilt creeping up in your throat for brushing your friend off. But you knew that if you went to see Robin, you’d also see Steve, and that made your stomach turn with anxiety.  

It was at that point that Steve couldn’t contain himself any longer, snatching the phone out of Robin’s hand and turning away from her as she yelped out a short, “Hey! Give that back Steve!”  

He presses the phone to his ear, half expecting you to have hung up by now before he gives a breathy “Y/N, hey, it’s me, Steve, can we talk?” The question comes out awkward and he mentally curses at himself. It’s silent on the other end before the line clicks and goes dead. He stares at the phone in surprise. “She - She just hung up on me,” he turns to face Robin again, “didn’t even say a word she just hung up!” 

“Ok look,” she grabs Steve by the shoulders, “she’s definitely avoiding you but she didn’t sound too chipper on the phone with me either so like... She's just having a bad day?” Robin really is trying her best to convince him. 

“No no this isn’t like her Robin you know that! God, she’s probably so pissed at me. What if we’re not even friends anymore!” Steve is breaking into a full on panic, hands coming up to roughly drag over his face in agony.  

“Steve, it’s fine, she’s not just going to stop being friends with you. You just have to talk. She probably thinks that you don’t want to be friends with her anymore. Got it?” Robin starts nodding her head, hoping Steve will mirror her and do the same, making him believe it too. She releases his shoulders, turning to start sorting through the stack of videos piled up on the counter. Steve just stares off into space, mind racing about you.  

As soon as the clock hits the hour, he tore out the door, driving straight to your house. He walks a little too hastily to your doorstep, ringing the doorbell rapidly a few times and then knocking the door for good measure. He waited for a minute (ok, 30 seconds) before trying again. He saw the lights on in your house, he knew you were there.  

"Hey listen it's just me, are you in there? I really think we should talk, please?" he called out, desperate, nose buried against the door. No answer still. “I’m not leaving until you answer Y/N, please!” He pleads again, waiting. He paces outside for (actually) 5 minutes, before huffing to himself and starting to walk around the side of your house. He knows your house well, from games of hide and seek as kids to sneaking in and out of it when you were teenagers. He also knows that you’re terrible in remembering to lock the back door. He peeks through the front windows, checking for you before opening the side gate and passing through the backyard. With one last look through the back he goes to turn the back door handle, it giving way and popping open immediately. A gratified huff leaves his chest as he sticks his head in the door, eyes searching the kitchen. “Y/N? Are you here? I’m coming in the back door,” he warns, stepping over the threshold. At that moment he hears rapid footsteps over the top floor and descending the stairs.   

“Steve! What the hell, you can’t just break in to my house!” You yell at him, feet flying fast across the main floor. Your eyes meet and you stop abruptly, leaving your kitchen island between the two of you. He takes you in for the first time since the party, dressed in comfortable sweats and hair loose and messed from your bed’s pillow. He thought the skin around your eyes looked a little red and raw but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t expect his heart to skip a beat at the sight of you.  

“I know I know, but you weren’t answering the door!” He says defensively arms gesturing wildly, “And I’m sick of you avoiding me - and don’t say you aren’t because I know you are.” His voice is more raised than he intended, but he felt like he was bursting at the seams, overwhelmed from not seeing you for days.   

“That doesn’t give you a right to break in Steve! I wasn’t answering the door because I don’t want to see you. I thought I was making that pretty clear.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but you still felt awkward around him, the shame causing you to lash out. You were both circling the island as if you were playing a game – him, taking a step closer to you and you taking a step back each time he did.  

“Listen, please, I’m sorry about the other night, I’m not mad at you or anything ok...you know I’m not mad right?” it all comes out more stuttered than Steve intended, but he figured if he didn’t start talking the words might never come out. You cut him off quickly, wanting to end whatever conversation he was trying to force.  

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, seriously. I’m the one who’s sorry ok, I’m so sorry,” you change your direction and start moving towards him, slowly herding him out the kitchen and towards the front door while you keep speaking. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking, I think it was just the end of a bad day and you were there and so close and it was so shitty of me Steve.” He sees the tears welling in your eyes and tries to interrupt you but you carry on, “I had a few drinks in me and wasn’t thinking straight. It’s not an excuse it’s just what happened and my head got all confused. Really, I crossed a line and I’m so sorry Steve.” He noticed you reach around him towards the front doorhandle, he almost goes to stop you but couldn’t find the courage to do it. “I’m just not ready to talk about it ok? I need some space, just to sort my head out a bit, figure out if I can keep being friends with you.” It sounded more mournful than you intended, part of you already believing that your friendship has ended. He watches you take a shaky breath and open the door. He tries to fight you, put up some sort of protest, but the tears in your eyes made him weak. 

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he gets out as your shaking your head at him, crowding him out the doorway. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, you don’t, I- I just couldn’t, but I do -” 

 “Please just go, I’ll talk to you when I’m ready, I promise – just need time to think, please don’t call me anymore,” you cut him off, shutting the door on him and pressing your back against it. Steve stands dumbfounded on your porch, staring at your door as if he could burn holes through it. That could not have gone any worse. In defeat, he trudges back to his car, absentmindedly swinging his keys around his fingers. His drive home was quiet, his head in another world still reeling. The loss of his best friend, and a girl he really loved, it weighed heavier on him by the minute.  

The days passed and Steve didn’t call. He didn’t drive by your house. He would ask Robin about you at work, knowing that she had hung out with you the night before, asked if you said anything about him. Robin would just shake her head, tell him no and not to worry, you were fine. He hated how he felt. He was moody, off balance, like he was going through withdrawal from you. It agitated Robin too, having to see Steve that way.  

It was about a week later when Steve was sat alone at home one night. Rain starting to bucket down, making Hawkins far gloomier than usual. He was eating a poor dinner of cereal and a bag of chips, sitting on the couch and watching a late-night show. He saw the flash of car lights outside his front window before he heard the car pull in, setting his heartbeat a little faster. He makes out the sound of a car door slamming and jumps up from the couch, peeking through the window to see who the late-night visitor could be. He notes your signature yellow raincoat dashing for the cover of his front porch, his eyes going wide as he rushes to open the front door for you.  

It catches you off guard, the warm draft of air from his doorway hitting you while the cold drops of rain slide down your jacket hood and on your face. You turn your head up to him, planting yourself a few feet from the door, just far enough to turn around and run back if you decided you couldn’t be brave. You stare at each other for a second before Steve breaks the silence. “What are you doing here? Come inside it’s bucketing out there,” he moves to turn inside, open his doorway to you more but you stay put. He looks back, taking in your face, contorted with uncertainty. Hell, he thought you almost looked nervous. “Y/N? What’s going on?”  

You fiddle with your jacket sleeves, dropping your gaze to your feet for second before gaining the courage to look up at him again. “Not like this... that’s what you said,” it was practically a mumble. Steve looks at you in confusion, mouth poised to speak again but you repeat yourself, a little louder, little bit braver. “I remember it. You said, ‘it can’t happen like this’, when I tried kissing you...what did you mean by that?” You’re tense, unblinking, staring him down. It’s like you could see the memory play back in his head, a soft oh leaving his lips. He steps outside, slightly closing the gap between you two, hands in his pockets.  

It was his turn to look nervous, pausing to try to get his brain to catch up so he wouldn’t stumble his words again. “I guess I just meant...” he pauses again, taking a frustrated huff at himself, his eyes follow the toe of his sock, tracing in a half circle along the ground.  

You stay patient. You knew Steve only struggled with his words when they were important, when they meant something, when he wanted to get them right. In the past week you had been mulling over the night of the party incessantly, berating yourself for every move. But as you uncovered memories of the night you found one that you couldn’t let go, a picture of Steve, bending down to meet you at eye level, a spew of words coming from his mouth but your ears only catching “it can’t happen like this.” The words stayed ringing in your head for days, and you had enough of it. It drove you crazy enough to speed over to his house late at night, in the pouring rain, skipping the courteous welcome and jumping straight to the point – you had to know what he meant by it.  

Steve starts speaking again, slow at first, “Y/N, I wasn’t expecting it. We were outside a party, tipsy, on a curb, that rotten cigarette between us. Jesus I think I had just shot gunned two beers before taking you outside...” he looks up at you, sees you open your mouth to speak but he quickly cuts you off, “Would you just listen please? It’s not like those things matter that much, we were having have a fun night and I, I -,” you see him take a step closer to you, another huff of frustration and as he tries to get the words together. “I wanted to kiss you. I couldn’t believe that you were kissing me first. But if I was going to kiss you I sure as shit didn’t want it to be a drunken mess. So that’s what I meant. I couldn’t let our first kiss happen like that. I wanted it to be different, I wanted to tell you how I felt, well feel, first. I wanted that kiss to mean something.”  

You stand in shock, head tilted up a little now that Steve had gotten closer. He took in your face, the way your brows were knit in confusion, or was it frustration? Were you just thinking? He couldn’t quite read the expression. But he thought he saw a light click on behind your eyes when it seemed like you caught up to everything he said, a bit of warmth returning to your face as your features relaxed. When you spoke it was soft, gentle. 

 “So tell me how you feel Steve.”  

Steve had a new found confidence, something only you could give him, as he stepped forward, hands coming to yours, one of them going to your waist as he got close to you. “You’re my best friend y/n, and I think I’m love with you. Wait no, I know I’m in love with you,” he pulls you in close by the waist, looking deep into your eyes waiting for a response. You scan his face, looking for any sign of uncertainty but you can’t find it. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, face close, noses almost touching.  

You give a slight nod and a breathy “yes” before he crashes his lips on to you. He holds you tight, his wide hand pressing against the small of you back as the other cradles the back of your head. You bend backwards, almost collapsing under the weight of the kiss. Your body felt like hot fire, lips melting into each other. You hear a soft whine come from the back of Steve’s throat, or maybe it was yours, as he pulls you upright again. When you break apart for air, he doesn’t let you go, resting his forehead against yours, breathing in sync with you. 

“I meant it should happen something like that.”  

[babygirl-diaz]

Can't stop thinking about an omega tommy being lonely all those years thinking maybe he's just too unloveable to be mated and not good enough because he doesn't have the typical omega physique that every alpha want in an omega and that until he met Evan😌

Oh my god, anon, now I can't stop thinking about it either. My hand slipped and I wrote it as a fic 😅

Also a special thanks to @sarastars for also giving me the ideas for this fic!

Also, sorry for making Tommy so out of character.

***

Tommy knew he would never find an alpha. He wasn't built like a typical omega. In fact, he was reminded of that every day at the 118 firehouse.

"Hey, Tommy!"

Tommy sighed, stopped loading the dishwasher, and got up. "Yeah, Deluca?"

"Bet you're used to bending, huh?" Deluca teased and made crude thrusting motions with his hips, but then he stopped and pouted at him. "Oh wait, you don't have anyone to bend for! How sad is that?" And then Deluca and his pals were laughing while high-fiving each other.

Tommy gritted his teeth and walked away without saying a word. He just wanted to leave this place. Go somewhere where he is actually respected.

"Don't let them get to you."

Tommy looked up from where he was sitting on the bench outside and saw Hen giving him a sympathetic look.

"They treat you worse and you're an alpha," Tommy pointed out and moved to make space for Hen.

"Yeah, that's true," Hen agreed and sat down. "They just want people to fit in a certain mold and when they don't-"

"-they make their lives a living hell," Tommy finished her sentence for her. "Do you ever wish you could work somewhere else?"

"I don't think it's any better anywhere else," Hen shrugged.

"I am more optimistic and think there is someplace out there where no matter who you are, you are treated right," Tommy replied.

***

"Hey, handsome."

Someone greeted Tommy and he looked up from his drink to see a beautiful brunette with gray eyes standing next to him giving him a flirtatious look.

He was currently having drinks at the bar with his teammates and to have a beautiful woman's attention on him in front of them flustered him.

"Do you mind if we talk in private? Away from your friends?" The woman asked biting her bottom lip. "I bet an alpha like you could show me a good time."

Laughter suddenly rang through the table, making Tommy cringe.

"Sweetheart, if you're looking for alpha then he ain't it," one of his teammates, Andy, told the woman.

The woman looked confused for a second before her eyes widened. "Ew! You're an omega?"

Tommy felt his heart shatter in a million pieces.

"You look so deceptive. Maybe stop taking steroids to make yourself look like an alpha," the woman huffed and walked away.

And then Tommy was left with his laughing teammates.

"She really thought you were an alpha!" Deluca teased.

"Yeah, maybe stop taking steroids, Tommy," another teammate, Gary, teased him as well and laughed.

Tommy wanted the Earth to swallow him whole but he had no such luck.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Howard giving him a sympathetic look.

***

When Tommy could finally transfer to the 217, he felt like he could breathe. The 217 were a lot better. There were a few who teased him but it wasn't as bad as it was in the 118.

But then, years down the line, he was forced to transfer back to the 118. It wasn't his choice, but their firehouse ironically caught fire and the place had to be shut down, with everyone transferred to different stations. Since Tommy had a history there, they transferred him back to the 118.

Things had changed at the 118, though. Many of the alphas that he worked with were gone but Deluca was still there, much to Tommy's chagrin.

There were a few fresh faces there but one in particular piqued Tommy's interest: Evan Buckley.

Evan was a young, cocky guy, who seemed like he was a bit of an asshole but Tommy kind of dug that. Evan mostly stayed to himself but sometimes Tommy found him giving him looks he couldn't quite decipher.

But then something happened one day that made Tommy realize Evan wasn't any better either.

Tommy was about to go home and he had parked his car next to Evan's jeep. So when Evan approached him, Tommy thought nothing of it. That is until Evan cornered Tommy against his car.

"Hey, whoa, I don't want any trouble, okay?" The words left Tommy's mouth before he could stop himself. He was always so used to being defensive.

Evan smirked and said, "You're so hot, Tommy. I've been admiring you from day one."

Tommy frowned when he heard that. So Evan was even more cruel than the others. At least they didn't play with his feelings.

Evan pressed Tommy further against his car and Tommy felt his heart racing. "You're such a pretty omega. So fucking breedable." Evan's breath ghosted next to Tommy's ear, making him shiver. "Can't believe you're not already taken but maybe that's because you were waiting for me."

Tommy felt like crying. He hated being toyed with like this. "Please stop."

"Why?" Evan whispered breathlessly in his ear.

Instead of answering Tommy pushed Evan away and got into the car and left.

***

Tommy knew he was close to his next heat. But it was a few days away so he went to work anyway.

Before work, as he changed his clothes in the locker room, he felt a presence behind him.

"Hey, Tommy." It was Deluca.

Tommy sighed, put on his shirt, and turned around to face him. "Yeah, Deluca?"

There was something different about Deluca today. He had a small smile, and his features were soft. "Listen, I just- I wanted to apologize for treating you like trash for all these years."

Tommy was taken aback by that. "Uh what?"

"Yeah, but I was mean to you for a reason," Deluca said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I have feelings for you."

Tommy thought he heard wrong. Because there is no way Deluca of all people just admitted that he had feelings for him. "What?"

Deluca stepped closer to him. "I've had feelings for you for the longest time. But I was in a relationship. I couldn't do anything about it so I treated you horribly instead."

Tommy's heart started racing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Deluca took a few more steps towards Tommy, trapping him against the lockers. He reached out to touch Tommy's cheek, who flinched at the gesture.

"You're so beautiful," Deluca continued to say.

The omega in Tommy was giving in to the touch. He couldn't help the whimper he let out.

Deluca put one hand on Tommy's waist and leaned in to bury his face in Tommy's neck.

Tommy's heart threatened to burst out of his chest. "W-what about your wife?"

"We're separated," Deluca replied and kissed Tommy's scent gland.

Tommy suddenly felt warm all over and slick started running down his thighs.

"Shit, you're in a heat," Deluca said and squeezed Tommy's waist.

Shit, having an alpha so close sent him into a premature heat.

"Sal," Tommy whispered when Deluca nuzzled his neck.

And then Deluca started laughing. He pulled away from Tommy and let out a full belly laugh. "Oh my god, that- I can't believe I held out for so long- I should get a damn Oscar."

Tommy stood there stunned as he watched the other man in confusion. But deep down he knew what was going on.

"I sent you in a premature heat with all that bullshit!" Deluca laughed even louder. "Jesus, Tommy, you're so pathetic." He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and made a disgusted face. "Gross, I actually kissed your neck."

Tommy felt his eyes fill with tears but he refused to cry in front of this bastard and he looked away.

"Aw, are you gonna cry now, little baby?" Deluca teased. "You're so desperate that you were gonna spread your legs for me and beg me to fuck you, weren't you? God, Tommy, can you be any more of a slu- "

Before Deluca could finish his sentence, someone grabbed him and slammed him into the lockers next to Tommy.

Evan snarled and his eyes flashed gold. "You fucking asshole!" He growled and slammed Deluca against the lockers again.

"Evan stop!" Tommy said weakly. He couldn't focus on anything. The alpha pheromones from Evan were too strong and the omega in Tommy was whining for the alpha despite Tommy's protests.

Evan immediately stopped. "You mess with him again and I will end you, Deluca," he warned Sal and let him go, immediately coming to Tommy's side.

"Tommy, you okay?" Evan asked him worriedly and touched his shoulder.

"Oh, you two deserve each other. The broken omega and the broken alpha!" Deluca spat out.

Tommy ignored him and instead focused on Evan's touch which made him whimper.

"What's going on here?"

Tommy heard the captain's voice and gulped.

"Buck attacked me!" Deluca complained.

"And I'll do it again if you treat Tommy like shit!" Evan growled.

"Tommy, are you okay?" Bobby asked him gently.

"No, I'm in a heat," Tommy whimpered again.

"Yeah, thanks to that asshole!" Evan pointed at Deluca. "He was messing around with Tommy and sent him into a heat."

"Is that true?" Bobby asked Tommy.

Tommy could barely speak. He was sweating profusely and slicking up. So instead, he just nodded.

"He's a lying who-"

Bobby glared at Deluca and flashed his eyes at him before he could finish his thought. "You're suspended. I want you out of my firehouse right now."

"Are you serious?! You're suspending me for that omega bitch?" Deluca growled and got up in Bobby's face.

"You want that to turn into a termination?" Bobby asked.

"Well, fuck this firehouse, and fuck you. Your house of misfits won't last long," Deluca kept on going.

"I'll take that as a yes. Take your stuff and get out. Right. Now," Bobby angrily told him.

Deluca huffed and left. Once he was gone, Tommy felt like he could breathe again. "Th- thank you," he said to Bobby. He couldn't think. Evan's proximity and his scent were too overpowering.

"I'm taking him home," Evan said taking Tommy's hand.

"I can't let you do that, Buck," Bobby got in Evan's way before Evan could pull him along.

"Bobby-"

"Buck, you are not Tommy's alpha and he is not in the right frame of mind to give you consent right now," Bobby told him.

"I am capable of consenting and I want Evan," Tommy replied. He hated being treated like he wasn't even there.

"You heard Tommy, Bobby," Evan told the other alpha and pulled Tommy along, taking him to his jeep.

Once they were inside, Evan put a hand on Tommy's cheek and pulled him close but kissed his forehead. "I know what you said back there, but I want you to consent to this when you're not in a heat," Evan said pressing their foreheads together. "Do you have toys at home?"

Tommy felt his cheeks heat up at that. "Y-yeah," he replied.

"Good. So we're gonna go back to yours. I'm gonna help you build your nest and then I'll stick around while you do your thing. Is that okay?" Evan gently stroked his cheek with his thumb.

"You- you can help me if you want. Like I told Bobby, I am capable of consenting," Tommy whispered and closed his eyes.

"I know, babyboy," Evan kissed his forehead again. "But until yesterday, you didn't even like me." He smirked.

"That was yesterday," Tommy replied. "This is today."

Evan let out a breathy laugh and kissed Tommy's eyelids. "Come on, let's get you home. You wanna give me your address?"

Tommy put his address in Evan's phone and Evan held his hand as he drove them back to Tommy's place.

Once there, Evan helped Tommy build his nest. Tommy directed him to where the additional comforters and pillows were and Evan came back with them and set them up on the bed. He finally took off his hoodie and gave it to Tommy.

"You might need this," Evan told him.

Tommy took the hoodie and took in Evan's smell. "Thank you," he said. "For everything."

Evan leaned in and kissed Tommy's cheek. "I'm right outside. If you need anything, just call me."

"And what if I just need you?" Tommy asked.

Evan chuckled at that. "You're gonna be fine," he told him and pulled away.

Tommy immediately missed his touch and whined. "Alpha, come on. I know you want me. So just take me."

Evan clicked his tongue and shook his head. "That's just your heat talking, babyboy."

Tommy huffed and climbed into his nest. "Do you wanna at least cuddle with me?"

"I don't think I'll be able to stop myself, if I touched you right now, babyboy. I can smell your slick and I can feel the heat radiating off your body," Evan told him.

"Then don't stop yourself. Do what you want to me," Tommy insisted.

"No," Evan replied resolutely.

"Do you not want me because I'm not your typical omega?" Tommy asked sadly.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" Evan asked. "You're a beautiful fucking omega whom I want to knock up so bad."

"You're lying. You want a pretty. dainty omega. Not someone like me."

" I don't know if you're trying to reverse psychology me but I can see myself mating with you, Tommy. I want to mate with you. But just not today. I want us to talk when you're not in a heat and then I want to make you mine."

Tommy felt a smile play across his lips and nodded. "Okay," he said.

"Okay," Evan replied and kissed Tommy's forehead one more time before leaving, letting the door stay slightly ajar.

Tommy took off his clothes but pulled on Evan's hoodie. He took out his purple dildo from the side drawer and lay back, circling his hole with it. He slowly pushed it inside and moaned. "Evan."

He slipped his hand under the hoodie and played with his nipples with his other hand while he started fucking himself with the dildo. "Evan, Evan, Evan," a litany of his coworker's name escaped his lips. He was loud enough that he knew Evan could hear him outside. "Please, Evan. Knock me up. Need your baby in me," he groaned as he started fucking himself faster with the dildo.

He imagined Evan on top of him, penetrating him over and over again, making him scream. Tommy stopped playing with his nipple and wrapped his other hand around his cock. He stroked it only a few times, imagining Evan's hand on it before coming, loudly screaming out Evan's name. He lazily fucked himself with the dildo as he came down from the high. If Evan would not fuck him, then Tommy wasn't about to make it easy on him.

[traffic-light-eyes]

They say love is the best medicine. Kai has never once believed that; how could love, a mere concept, help? He couldn't understand.

When he scraped his knee as a kid, did his absent mother kiss it better? No. When he burnt his hand forging a sword, did his father clean him up? No. Love is nothing but a nuisance, a petty attempt at making something out of nothing.

He knows this. He knows this, but why does he make those attempts for his little sister, Nya? Why does he have to kiss he wounds, to clean her up, to love her? Why can't he help it?

Kai all but drops everything for her. She can not turn out like him: jaded, ruinous, unloving. He won't let it happen. He'll teach her love, a concept he could never quite grasp. He'll learn it, fake it. All for her. His baby sister.

Love doesn't heal. It doesn't have magical powers that instantly cure an illness. Love doesn't heal.

When he sits alone in the bounty, stressed and upset, he has no medicine to fix it. His arms ache from the endless training he forces himself to endure; he has to get stronger for Nya. He has to. But it hurts. He finds his body isn't what all that aches.

A deep devastating ache resides in his chest. Heartache. He has no medicine for this. He can't fix this. He can't he can't he can't. He's so useless-can't save his sister; can't protect that stupid brat, Lloyd; and he certainly can't solve his own damn issues. Useless.

He feels the warmth next to him before he feels the hand on his back. He won't look. Another hand joins the first. His head is cradled against a chest, one hand holding the nape of his neck gently, the other his lower back.

He cries for the first time in a while.

It isn't fair. It isn't fair. It isn't fair.

"I know," Cole whispered, a gravelly rumble grounding him in the moment. Kai hadn't even realized he had been speaking. "I know, Kai. Just let it out. FSM knows you deserve it."

He cries. Sobs. His body jerks with each moment, breath hitching, limbs clutching onto the nearest surface.

It takes a while, but he calms down. His face stays in the crook of Cole's neck, soft puffs of air giving him goosebumps. In a normal situation, Kai would yell at Cole for touching his hair, but in this moment, Kai practical purrs at the soft, gentle carding of his recently washed hair.

When he finally gets his voice back, it crackles like a vintage radio, but he speaks. "How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't."

"Oh," Kai said dumbly, "Then why are you here?"

"Well, I wouldn't just walk away after seeing you like an abandoned puppy-dog."

Kai scoffs, removing himself from Cole's warmth. "I didn't ask for your help."

"I know."

"I didn't need it. I would've been fine."

"I'm sure you would've."

"Then why the heck did you stay?" Was he pressing too much? He shouldn't ruin a good thing. Why did he say that? Oh, fsm, he should really learn when to shut his big mouth.

"I think I told you already," Cole joked, "but I could be wrong."

Kai scoffed again. He pinched Cole's elbow with a glare.

"Yowch!" Cole jerked away, slightly laughing while rubbing his injured elbow. "Okay, okay, I yield."

Kai pushed himself further away. He doesn't know if he wants to hear this. He knows what's coming: 'Oh Kai, you just looked so sad and pathetic, and I'm such a great perfect person, so I just had to come and help you out! But since you're so weak, I'll have to talk to Sensei Wu about kicking you out. Sorry, not sorry!'

"Kai, we haven't known each other for long. Barely a month or two, really. But I've come to care for you. And that includes caring for you when you're upset like today."

Huh.

"You're part of the team now. We take care of one another. We love each other. Yes, even when Jay eats the last pancake."

Huh.

"Kai? Are you good? You haven't blinked in the past two minutes."

His body jerks, face flushing. "I'm fine, thanks."

"Alright," Cole laughs. "I'll see you soon, then. I'm gonna go grab whatever delicious food Zane is cooking up right now."

"Yeah," Kai said, "see you soon."

He leaves. Huh.

Love is stupid and useless. He doesn't remember the last time he felt it. But with the warmth of Cole's embrace lingering and his face still flushed, he can't seem to remember why that mattered.

He feels better. He used no ointment or pill, but he feels better. Love. Love was his medicine.

[ssho197]

xiao’s balls drop and he decides to finally ask you out

contents: fluff, modern au

pls help i’m dying my stomach is cramping so bad god i hate periods so much (i’m putting not much effort in this istg if this does well)

- xiao’s known you for a little while, you were super nice and hung out with him even though he had no one,, this gave him hope that he won’t be unlovable

- you considered xiao as a really good friend of yours! after all, he offers to pay for the food super often! and he always replies to your texts the second he gets them.. and he also gives you small homemade gifts whenever he sees you…

- xiao had it all planned out,, he would meet up with you as usual after classes and he’d ask you out on a date! perfect plan.. righttt???

- xiao waits for you outside your class but doesn’t see you when the class is over? he checks his phone… no notifications… he checks your instagram for life updates…. nothing on your story (except for the selfie you posted yesterday when you two hung out)

- xiao is confused (and incredibly heartbroken),, maybe he just shouldn’t ask you out after all.. hes so sad that it doesn’t even cross his mind to text you?

- you were feeling sick today, you couldn’t even move out of bed to get your phone and text xiao that you wouldn’t be attending classes today,, when you finally texted him, “hey xiao sorry i wasn’t in class today i’m feeling hella sick so i cant come in”

- xiao texts you back saying, “oh alright. makes sense. i’m coming over alright? be there in 10” for some reason seeing this text made your heart flutter

- when xiao knocks at your door, he’s holding a plastic bag full of food and treatment items to help you and a large flower bouquet in the other hand,, you were wrapped up in a blanket with it covering your head and large eye bags under your eyes,, xiao takes his shoes off and comes inside

- he sets the bag and flowers down before going to hug you,, you’re so sick that you have no idea what’s going on,, and before you know it, xiao is asking you out on a date for that sunday

- “huh?” is pretty much all you managed to get out, xiao repeated what he said and when you finally understand you agree and promptly pass out before being carried back to bed by xiao

[tellmegoodbye]

Welcome back everyone! This week's themes are Disasters and Nancy & Mateo. I'll admit, this theme was a tough one! I have two songs that reflect on two very disastrous moments in the show. It's a loose interpretation of the word, I know, but the result is now probably my angstiest music monday submission yet. You're welcome. Or I'm sorry.

Thank you as always to @lonestar-s5countdown!

---

Walked Through Hell - Anson Seabra

I guess all the mountains that I moved just weren't enough And all those nights I walked you home From crowded bars when you were drunk Well they meant nothing 'cause you up and walked away And I just wonder what it'd take to make you stay

Cause when you said jump I said how high But when I jumped you said goodbye

I would've walked through hell To find another way I would've laid me down If I knew that you would stay I would've crossed the stars To keep you in my life But now I'm falling hard Without you here tonight

I'm kicking things off with a breakup song. TK and Carlos were both broken in their own ways, but these lyrics are a reflection on Carlos' state of mind in the immediate aftermath. There's a touch of unreliable narrator involved here because obviously TK loves Carlos, but from the perspective of the person whose heart has just been broken, he doesn't. This song really digs into just how much pain something like this causes, and how much healing they had to go through. Much like a recovery from a physical injury, such as Grace hurting her leg or TK taking a bullet to his chest, Carlos' love and trust needed a lot of mending.

Atlantic - Sleep Token

(cw: reference to a suicide attempt)

I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planets Just orbiting the vacuum I am And they talk me through the damage, consequence And how it's a pain they know they don't understand

Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedside I'm trying not to crush into sand So flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothing Wash away the blood on my hands

This is TK in the aftermath of his overdose. The narrator describes themselves as a vaccum, surrounded by people who love them but can't understand the pain that they're in. TK feels so broken and empty at this point, and even though he lies to Owen and puts on a stoic face. We know he's hurting so much more than he said. We know that this overdose was no accident, that TK felt so lost and unlovable that he had tried to take his own life. He'll go through the motions. He'll move to Austin with his dad and rebuild a firehouse. He'll go back to work and seek out physical comfort from Carlos, but he doesn't heal from something like this overnight. He still feels like he'll never have the kind of future he wants. Love and happiness feel so distant for him right now, nearly an impossiblity. He can't see a way out of the darkness.

Tags!

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos @bonheur-cafe

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @carlos-tk

@paperstorm @guardian-angle22 @lightningboltreader @eclectic-sassycoweyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @toomanycupsoftea @reeeallygood @butchreyes

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @reyesstrand + open tag!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hey! i’m the relationship anon from some time earlier and this time i’m here with a request, i hope you don’t mind :)

first of all your writing is absolutely the best and you’re super talented!! i found your blog earlier than i first sent you a message and i must say reading your snippets always brings me emotions- i absolutely love you (as a writer and you seem a great person)!

now for the request itself i guess :) may i please read something soft? not anything new/unusual in my request but anyway, maybe with either the hero or the villain being touch starved and the other finding it out, and then some teasing and overall kinda fluff? please- :)

thanks in advance and no problem at all if you don’t wanna do it!

“Your hands are so soft,” the villain mumbled. They got on top of the hero and buried their face in their neck. It was astounding that someone so tall and muscular could also be so tender. Everything about the villain screamed intimidating and yet, they always melted in the hero’s arms.

Out of reflex, the hero’s hands slipped under the villain’s shirt and drew slow shapes into the skin of their lover’s back. The hero chuckled lightheartedly. “Someone’s a bit touchy today, hm?”

As a reply, the villain hummed contently, their voice vibrating lovingly on the hero’s chest. The hero often remembered a time in which they had felt like they were the loneliest person on earth. For years, the hero had thought themselves to be unlovable, unworthy of any kind of affection. Waking up alone, eating alone, going to bed alone — it was painful.

Sometimes, they still felt this everlasting dread on them. They were breathing it in like thick fog, consuming it and without a warning they got hurled back into that time.

That only happened when the villain wasn’t around.

“Sweetheart, you stayed out of trouble this week, yes?” the hero whispered, taking the villain’s jaw in their hand to make them look at them.

“Uhm—” The hero could see their blush crawling down their body, disappearing under their shirt. “I actually did. I didn’t notice but I did.”

“I’m proud of you.” The villain averted their gaze.

“Seducing me to the good side, huh?” they mumbled. It was adorable how they played with the seam of the hero’s shirt nervously, their eyes darting in the air.

“Well, it looks good on you. Helping people, making someone else smile. I watched you play with the kids you saved the other day. You let them play with your cape,” the hero said. Sometimes, the villain went too far when they were fighting. Old habits are hard to kill. But the hero was working on that with them.

“They were asking for it. Couldn’t really say no when their parents stood right next to me,” the villain answered. It was a rather hilarious excuse.

“You could’ve said you were busy.”

“I…” Defeated, the villain buried their face in the hero’s chest again while their lover scratched their scalp carefully, running fingers through their hair with a warm precision.

“Is it that bad?” the hero asked, smiling.

“No…” the villain admitted. “It feels good to be loved. I always thought violence is all I am capable of. But maybe there’s something else.”

They pressed their face deeper into the hero’s clothes. If that was even possible.

“I think so too. You’re a good person.”

“Wish I could be like you, though. You’re so selfless it makes me want to vomit,” the villain mumbled into their shirt.

Laughing at the attempted disgust in the villain’s voice — which failed graciously — the hero lifted their lover’s face again. Without hesitation, they touched the villain’s cheeks. Palms gliding over skin. It made their villain close their eyes, muscles relaxing, breath slowing.

“I used to be very selfish. Very hot-headed and I learnt my lesson more than once. Learning compassion can be very hard when you didn’t grow up with it. You know how it is. Sickness comes from sickness. Feeds on it.”

The hero looked at their lover who seemed quite unsure now, staring at them with big eyes.

“What I’m saying is, it’s not your fault. You’re starting fresh. You can’t control the past. No need to dwell on it.”

When their villain nodded, the hint of a sleepy smile on their face, the hero wished they could live for eternity in this moment.

But when they thought about it again, they knew they could die happily tomorrow, having seen this.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: I won't elaborate on my fancast for Leo it explains itself -Danny Words: 2,152 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Polaroid' -by Imagine Dragons

VII. Save Money on Valentine's Day, Become Unlovable

"What Luke told you back on the Princess Andromeda, about starting the world from scratch... that really got to you, huh?"

Annabeth makes a face. "My fatal flaw. That's what the Sirens showed me. My fatal flaw is hubris."

"That brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches?"

She sighs. "No, Seaweed Brain. That's hummus. Hubris is worse."

"What could be worse than hummus?"

"Hubris means deadly pride, Percy. Thinking you can do things better than anyone else... even the gods."

"You feel that way?"

Annabeth takes a moment before replying. "Don't you ever feel like, what if the world really is messed up? What if we could do it all over again from scratch? No more war. Nobody homeless. No more summer reading homework."

"I'm listening."

"I mean, the West represents a lot of the best things mankind ever did—that's why the fire is still burning. That's why Olympus is still around. But sometimes you just see the bad stuff, you know? And you start thinking the way Luke does: 'If I could tear this all down, I would do it better.' Don't you ever feel that way? Like you could do a better job if you ran the world?"

Percy and I look at each other. "Um... no," he admits. "Me running the world would kind of be a nightmare."

"I agree," Percy gives me a playful glare, but I add: "No, I mean, I don't have what it takes. Leaders have stone-cold hearts."

"Hubris isn't your fatal flaw, then."

"What is?" Percy asks with curiosity.

"I don't know, Percy, but every hero has one. If you don't find it and learn to control it... well, they don't call it 'fatal' for nothing."

I shiver at the thought of having a weak spot that could kill me, but what can be dangerous for a girl like me? As long as I stay out of everyone's way, my flaw has no reason to put me in danger.

When Leo says he wants to look for Festus, Ara decides to join him. It's obvious he doesn't want company, but she won't let him go alone, not when something's after them.

She's half expecting the walk to be awkward. However, Leo's asking so many questions now that it's just the two of them again that she gets comfortable rather quickly. It doesn't feel like she's talking with a stranger, which is weird, not even Percy felt this way so soon into knowing him.

"So, what's your deal, exactly?" He fidgets with a couple of screws. "What does it mean, being the daughter of Olympus?"

"That I protect Olympus."

Leo gives her a sideways glance. "Your job isn't to fight monsters and do quests, then? Is it something more important?"

"You got it backward," she sighs. "That's exactly my job. The gods hand me tasks directly, or used to before they shut down Olympus... I go on quests and lead their armies."

Ara almost sounds bored when she talks about it, but she's only trying to hide how anxious it makes her, to have all that control over her loved ones. She didn't want to boss around her friends, she wanted to be their dependable hero.

"What happens if you fail?" He asks, the screws in his hand are ignored for a moment.

"If I'm breathing and can move, I gotta keep going."

"But my question is what happens when you can't continue a quest?"

Ara stares at him blankly. "If I fail, it means I died, there is no other option. I may be called the daughter of Olympus but the gods are not my caretakers. It hasn't happened though, lucky me."

Leo's amusement quickly vanishes. "Man, so you could die if we fail this quest?"

"Yeah. But I agreed to this."

He hesitates. "You might be a little too insane for my liking, and that's saying a lot..."

"Maybe I am," she heaves a sigh. "But I did it so they would stop using my friends..."

"How old are you?" Leo frowns.

"Fourteen... and a half," she adds as an afterthought.

"What!" He raises his voice. "And you're a General? I don't even have a driver's license!"

"And that's such an impediment now that you're flying a dragon," she replies sarcastically. "Don't be dumb."

"If that's an order, General, I'll have to transgress it," he taunts her. It's crazy how quickly Leo can switch from being upset to acting all funny. "That's the one thing I do perfectly, don't take my dumbness away." 

Ara sighs again, not sharing Leo's easy-going attitude. He tries again, he doesn't know why, but he likes listening to Ara's voice. It soothes him and makes his mind go slower. "So... why did the gods say yes? Why not choose someone older?"

Ara's brows knit together, she's heard this question many times before and knows that it makes sense, but it still annoys her. "I was the only one asking for it. Percy made his wish, and I still had mine, so I used it for this. The children of Olympus had been er... discontinued. I brought them back."

Leo tries to ask the following question without sounding rude, it's not coming easy. "So were you... powerful enough? Is that why they said yes?"

"I was good enough, yeah. It's a slow process, years and years of training. I convinced them 'cause I had a special set of skills."

Leo's hands are back to fidgeting. "What skills?"

Percy hides our ship behind a large rock wall, so in order to get to the top, we have to climb.

"Okay. Who first?"

They glance at me, of course they'd want me to go first, keeping an eye on the weakest link is the wise thing to do, but I'm not looking at them, I'm examining the wall.

"There's a path," I inform my friends.

"What?"

"You're hallucinating, Birdy..."

"No. Follow me."

Usually, when I insist there's something I can do, they let me try. I hold onto the nearest edge, and after that, I just keep going up. I stop only when I hear someone calling my name many feet below me. I look down to discover I don't have vertigo. 

"Why aren't you coming up?" I frown. "It's safe!"

"You're moving too fast, we can't see where you're stepping!" Annabeth pants.

"I'm fast?" I look at my hands. "Cool!"

"You don't use the lava wall back in camp, do you?" Percy raises his voice so I can hear him.

"Silena doesn't let me, she thinks I'll get hurt!"

"Well, I think she has to reconsider!" He grunts.

Festus landed on a pile of portable toilets, and both teens stare at the mess in disgust.

"Talking 'bout good fortune, huh?"

"If we had one of those cranes here it'd be easier..." Leo looks around with a scowl.

"I can climb his back," Ara steps forward, then stops. "Maybe throw snow on it before we..."

"What?" Leo puts his hand on the dragon's surface, then he jumps back. "Oh, right—ouch," he says in a not-so-convincing tone. When he notices the way she's looking at him, he tries to make up an excuse. "I'm very sleep-deprived."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Lying," she steps closer to him.

He smiles like he finds the conversation absurd. "Doll, I really got no—"

"You may think I'm an air-headed Barbie, but I can tell you're full of shit," Ara seizes his wrist. "I'm tired of you and Piper hiding things from me. Tell me what's your deal, or I'll lock you up in one of the squeezed-out toilets."

Leo complains loudly as Ara squeezes his wrist. "Okay, okay! Dang, you're stronger than you look!" He scoffs. "You have to promise not to freak out, alright?"

"You better be honest," she lets go of him. "Don't worry about me, I've seen a lot of weird stuff."

"Okay..." he rubs his wrist. "I... I make fire," Leo scowls at her. "Now's when you point fingers and call me bad names."

Ara stares at him, her gaze is calculating. "Nyssa told you their superstition, didn't she?"

"No, I just guessed I'm an omen of tragedy and bad fortune!" He replies sarcastically.

"So rough life for you too, huh?" She tilts her head, ignoring his defensive tone. 

Leo nods once, still scowling. "Good ol' demigod life."

"Well, it's not the end of the world, and I would know that. I witnessed like, three of those," she tells him. "Can you make fire out of nothing?"

"Yes," he opens one palm and small orange flames envelop it. "But I don't do this trick at parties, y'know? For obvious reasons."

"Yeah, because you don't get invited," Ara reaches out. It is real fire. "It's okay. Chiron will know how to help you."

"You think he'll want to? Because I'll be honest here, I need the training."

"I'll do it if he doesn't. You won't get better if you don't practice, and I owe it to you," Ara stretches out her palm. "Deal?"

The fire dies on Leo's hand. He stares at her unblinkingly. "You sure? I can be really hard to handle."

"I'll manage," she decides to tease him into shaking her hand. "What, afraid of getting cooties?"

Leo smiles. "Afraid of passing them, actually, but if you insist..." 

He reaches for her hand and shakes it. 

Tyson invites me to help him build Percy and Annabeth's chariot and I'm happy to assist him. We work side by side, and Percy and Annabeth win the race.

"We couldn't have won this race or got the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to our friends, to..." Annabeth pauses and looks at the Cyclops.

Percy catches my eye and his smile widens. "My baby brother and sister! Tyson and Ara!"

Before I know it, I'm being lifted on someone's shoulders and Tyson's holding my hand. When we reach the winner's platform and I'm placed between Percy and Tyson, I feel accepted unconditionally.

Percy reaches for my hand and squeezes, I make a promise that I'll treat him as my brother forever. "We should talk later," he says under his breath.

He has a strange glint of determination in his eyes. You know when someone says "later" but they mean "never"? Well, Percy isn't that type of person. Later meant fifteen minutes forward.

Chiron and him are waiting for me in the Big House, and Percy's holding a phone. "You have a call, Birdy."

"Did I do something?" I look at Chiron without understanding.

He points at the cell phone. "Don't keep them waiting."

"Hello?" I speak in a little frightened voice. 

"Hi, Ara," my heart does a somersault, it's Sally Jackson.

"Hi!" I reply, too excited to even question why my friend's mom wants to talk to me. "Did Percy tell you about the rock wall? I'm the fastest climber!"

"I heard you helped Tyson build a chariot, too."

"I helped Percy sail a pirate ship too! And I used my Charmspeak with Polyphemus before he could rip off—" My friend shakes his head frantically, so I change the subject. "Why are you calling me?"

Sally takes a moment. 

"Well... Percy and I talked..."

I glance at Percy. "Yeah? About what?"

"You liked staying with us during Christmas, didn't you?"

"Yeah! Can I go this year too?"

"How about staying the whole year?"

I'm sure I misheard that. "Sorry?"

"I've talked to Chiron, and he can help us with the paperwork to make it happen. Percy and I agree, having you around felt right."

"Wait, make what happen?" My heart's crawling up my throat.

"We want to adopt you, Ara."

"I-I'm not an orphan," My face is getting redder.

"We know."

"I told those things to Percy 'cause he asked, I wasn't trying to—I didn't use charmspeak!"

I'm embarrassed. I mean, when your friend hears your sob story and suddenly he's like "Suprise! I'm giving you this thing you told me you wished more than anything!" It kinda feels like he's just shutting you up. I didn't want it if it was out of pity.

"Ara," Percy intercedes. "We have more than enough to welcome a second regular-size kid into our home. Having Tyson around made us realize that."

"But I can't protect you like Tyson," I insist.

"We don't want that," Sally says. "Having you is enough."

They're asking me not only to stick around but also to use their name. Be part of their family forever. 

I look at Chiron with hopeful eyes. 

"Can I?"

Their bodies light up in a golden hue as soon as Leo holds her hand. Ara snatches her palm away in panic, looking at the boy as if he's got two heads.

"What?" Leo stares at her anxiously. "Did I burn you?"

"I'm fine!" She replies high-pitched. "Good talk! Let's—let's fix Festus now!" Ara turns to face the dragon so Leo can't see her blush. 

Gods, if her friends could see her now... No. This is not happening. That was not golden.

"Dammit!" She kicks the snow. 

Leo's climbing the dragon but he stops halfway. "What?"

"I'm having a moment, stay out of it!" She snaps.

The boy stares at her, half-amused and half-worried. "Why are the prettiest girls always so crazy..."

"Shut up!" Ara blushes even more.

She's dreamed about this moment for quite some time, but Leo's timing is downright inconvenient at this point, so denial it is. Ara isn't gonna make things easier. It will be the slowest slow-burn the Fates have ever had the misfortune to witness.

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

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[kickassfu]

For the siken mini fic ask! 💜

" you’re in a car with a beautiful boy and you're trying not to tell him that you love him. "

thank you so much for the prompt 😭😭 you're an angel! Too kind! (look out for some gore, also happy ending, don't be afraid lol)

Also on AO3.

20. you’re in a car with a beautiful boy and you're trying not to tell him that you love him.

Steve’s beautiful. The way his hair flops over his eyes, just soft and perfect, and god Eddie wants to touch it, pull it, bite it. Is obsessed with it. And his eyes, oh his eyes, that beautiful brown that shines just so when the sun hits them, Eddie loses all his words every time. Including now, as Steve drives the car, fast, fast, fast and Eddie can’t do anything but look at him, stare, fall in love even deeper still.

It hurts. So fucking much it’s beyond pain, to the point maybe it doesn’t hurt at all. It fucks with his senses to the point that he either feels everything or nothing at all. Even as he tries to keep all his insides, y’know, inside him. He’s sure that if he looked down, all he’d see is blood everywhere, inside, outside; he’s probably ruining Steve’s upholstery and what a fucking sin that is. There’s probably bites (and sadly not of the sexy variety) and gashes all over his body. Torn flesh, missing skin, and still he can’t look away from Steve.

He wonders how long it takes to fall in love.

Beautiful, perfectly imperfect Steve, that’s grabbing onto the steering wheel so hard his knuckles crack under the force. Going faster and faster, trying to outrun death, Eddie thinks. And Eddie doesn’t want to die, he’s crying for a reason after all (even though he can no longer feel his tears), but dying here, next to Steve, watching him, listening to him, is a nicer death he ever thought he might get.

He feels his eyes drooping, just wants to hold on a little while longer, to reach out his hand and touch Steve one last time but his strength has left him so long ago now and all he can do is let himself be pulled into the darkness, slowly and silently.

“EDDIE! Do not fucking close your eyes, man. Don’t fucking do that to me. Just- just hold on. We’re almost there. Eddie!” Steve yells and screams, plucking Eddie right back out of the darkness for just one more moment. 

What a sight it is, to open his eyes and see Steve look at him as he’s the only thing in the world that matters, with the intensity of a thousand stars; Eddie can’t help but smile.

As if Steve’s able to read his mind, he grabs Eddie’s hand, squeezing it over and over again, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “Come on, Eddie. Talk to me.”

“You’re beautiful.” Because what else can he say now? That’s all that’s rushing through his dying brain, and he doesn’t think people tell Steve that enough. That he’s appreciated. That he’s loved.

“Oh that’s bad, you’re going delirious. Fuck. What the fuck do I do now?”

Laughing hurts more than getting bit by those fucking bats, but Eddie can’t help himself, feels his brain clear a little more now, “I thought- oh fuck this hurts. I thought I was the drama queen here. Can’t handle a compliment?”

“They’re rarely honest, so no, I guess I can’t. And you don’t seem very coherent at the moment, so I’m sorry if I find it a bit hard to believe.”

“Oh Stevie. You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.” Eddie doesn’t know if the courage is coming from the fact that he thinks he’s already dead, no way out, or just from how much of a tragedy Steve thinking himself unloved is.

Steve looks at him curiously, as if he’s trying to decipher the truth of his words, unable to hide the concern that falls heavy on his face as he looks down at Eddie’s body, “Yeah? You’re not so bad yourself.”

Maybe Eddie really is dead, because Steve Goddamn Harrington is flirting with him.

Once more, Eddie finds himself dumbstruck in his presence, will wonders never cease?

“Guess you’re not too great at taking compliments yourself, huh?” Steve smiles and Eddie’s heart stops beating for one long, tortuous second.

Eddie wants to kiss him. Wants to eat him alive. To keep Steve inside him forever, tucked away beneath his cracked ribs, safe and warm. But darkness can’t be fought for long, and Eddie can’t keep himself afloat any longer, the last bit of his strength sapped right out of him. 

He’s just sad he couldn’t tell Steve he loved him before death came calling.

-

Opening his eyes is hard, almost impossible, against all that bright, artificial light. But he fights against it, wants to know who’s holding his hand so fucking hard his fingers are numb.

Oh, he’s opening his eyes. He isn’t…dead.

Steve is holding his hand, his cracked lips against Eddie’s knuckles, just resting there. Eddie lets himself watch for a bit, tries to flex his empty hand, to check for strength before he makes the effort of reaching towards Steve’s hair, to pet his head softly.

“Hey baby.” And well, fuck. He’s probably pumped full of drugs huh? There’s a reason he can’t feel much pain, after all. But it doesn’t really matter, when Steve tilts his head up so fast to look back at him (and Eddie’s so scared he’ll break his neck that his hand drops to it, thumbing gently at his Adam’s apple), sad smile on his face, tear tracks making a mess of his pretty skin. 

“Hi. Glad you finally decided to wake up, had a nice sleep? I hope so. I now have a crick in my neck because of you.”

“Why are you the cranky one? I was the one brought from the brink of death.” Eddie pouts, bottom lip pushed out and everything. And if Steve’s eyes wander to his lips at that, Eddie will not call him out on it, right now. He will later. Because holy shit, Steve is looking at his lips.

He should try to die more often.

“Yeah.”

Eddie still feels so tired, feels his eyelids droop over and over again, unable to keep them open for more than a second. He almost lets himself fall asleep until he remembers his last regret before death. Refusing to close his eyes again without letting Steve know, “I love you, Stevie. Just wanted you to know that.” 

Patting his hair one last time, Eddie yawns and lets himself drift off.

The last thing he hears is Steve’s choked up laughter, “Yeah, Eddie. Yeah, I- yeah. Rest up now.”

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Cursed-3 sister trilogy

Chapter 2- Weaving Magic

Sabrina Denny DeGhant

Chapter 2

 Weaving Magic

Sabrina was light on her feet as she floated around Ada's old room. Mala and Esmeralda had just left. No black magic had been used and she had the perfect remedy to ensure the success of the newly named horse. She gathered her shell, sage, powder and spell they’d written down. She needed to hurry to the stables. In truth there wasn’t a rush. She was just elated from seeing her sister. Esmeralda had a nice energy too even if Sabrina didn’t agree with her magic curse type of black magic. She slipped on her little slippers and trotted down the hall practically floating out the door. Arthur had conveniently opened a moment before as if holding the door for her. She slipped past him and an amused John. She had a little mission to fulfill.

_____________________________________________________________________

She was far too excited to see the horse to realize she was being watched and followed.  She had greetled Curly and exchanged brief pleasantries. She had taken the time to explain to him what and why she was casting a spell on the horse. She knew he loved Horses, he had a sweet spirit and Sabrina loved him as a friend for that. She thanked him for bringing her a stool. She sat her supplies down. Lit her sage and placed it on the shell as she

muttered a spell over the horse. Four times to seal the spell, over and over she muttered her voice set in a tone and pace evenly to make sure it worked.  The horse chortled in her face and whinnied. She opened her eyes and saw a sheen of glittering magic swirl around the beast and dissipate. She grinned. It worked. She bounced on her heels and laughed, clasping her hands together. He had told her there would be more horses after this race. She stilled as her thoughts drifted to the race. He’d asked the new barmaid, Grace was her name, to go to the races with him. In their timeline, Grace was Tommy’s true love. Sabrina felt her stomach toss, she hadn’t meant to catch feelings for the hardened gang boss. She shook her head as if the thoughts would tumble out with the gesture. She gave the horse a weak smile and petted him gently a few times before slipping him a sugar cube. They had told her not to feed it sugar, that the horse would get bratty. Everyone deserves a little treat though from time to time right?

“Sabrina.” The booming voice was mildly amused but scolding nonetheless. She gently turned her head to  look at him from her veil of golden blonde locks. She prayed he couldn’t 

see her sad lovestricked expression. “ Do you remember why I said they couldn’t have sugar?” He reached out to pet the horse, his eyes fixed on her. She was trying to suck down her emotions and not look at him. She felt two strong fingers fix on her jaw, willing her head to turn to him. “ Sabrina.” He said her name so softly. She felt her damp eyes roll to face him. She refused to fully turn to him though. He leaned over the horse stall looking at the race horse. “Didn’t take it huh?” He looked ahead, giving her privacy. She loved how gentle and perceptive he could be.  

“Ah, no.” She chuckled. He looked at her, he seemed disappointed. “Oh, oh no! The spell took!” she added rushed and almost out of breath. She had confidence in the spells…just not her feelings.  Unbeknownst to her sisters or anyone else really, she was a virgin. Never kissed and never touched. After her life feeling unloved around their father, she just kept to herself. To get close was to get hurt…she couldn’t risk it…but wasn't that the mission? No, not really, the mission was to get close but love? Love wasn’t actually stated as right or wrong when she’d accepted Violet's invitation to lift the Shelby/DeGhant curse. 

“Brina.” His voice was deep and husky, drawing her out of her own thoughts.He was leaning against the stall door casually but his eyes were deepened with concern.  “Are you okay?” 

She nodded mechanically. “I’m okay.” It sounded weak even to her, she wasn’t convinced. Would he care enough to pry? She didn’t have to wait for an answer for long. He was still intently watching her for anything that gave away her thoughts. 

“Is this about you missing your sisters or…” He trailed off intentionally hoping she’d speak. Just shook her hair like a mane and tossed about her locks carelessly. He inhaled. He’d never told her but she smelled of strawberries. Fresh And sweet. He loved standing next to her. Sweet and soft, never perfumed like a whore. “ You have to give me something huh?” He fully turned to her and grabbed her hips causing her to suck in her breath. Her eyes wide and wild like his horse. “Hey, hey, didn’t mean to startle you. Look at me.” He fisted enough hair of her close to her scalp that she had to look at him, whole not painful, yet, it was insistent. 

“ Is this about Grace?” His question hit her like a mountain of bricks ready to crush her whole. “It is, huh?” He let go of her hair and pulled back just enough so he could really look at her. “Look at me, what's going on?” His question shook her up. She didn’t even know. How was she going to tell him? She wasn’t good at protecting her face like Jasmine. She knew half a dozen conflicting emotions flashed across her features. She didn’t envy him to figure them out., She didn’t even know how to name half of them. 

“ I need Grace for a side mission to become a legitimate businessman.” He seemed frustrated because he scoffed and grabbed her face again.

 “ Grace can lie, she is not like you huh.” The words hit Sabrina and echoed darkly in her mind. 

“She’s not like you.”  

Sabrina pushed him away but his grip tightened holding her there. He kept searching for her, but she couldn’t speak. Her mouth is dry as cotton. 

“Sabrina, that's a compliment.” He bent down to make her look him in the eyes. It probably looked comically since she was 5’3 and he had some height on her.  She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She hadn’t heard him. 

Gods, this pain was searing through her heart. How could Violet survive what she did? She knew her sister had no choice. Death just simply happened. No favoritism and no unkindness, it just worked like that, she supposed. Ugh, the rejection.

“Oi!” He slammed his fist against the stall causing both the horse and Sabrina to yell out. “Are you listening to me, women? I said you are light to her darkness, to my darkness.” Oh, she heard, she almost laughed out loud. Not in humor though. It was just pure pain. They were wrong, all wrong….he couldn’t change could he? She kicked him sharply in the shins and dropped him enough to give her leverage to get away. She ran, had no idea where she was running too.but she didn’t care either. She just had to get away. 

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“FUCK!” He yelled. He didn’t care if she’d heard his outburst. She was so soft to her hard dark edge. She was a light, pure light that chased the darkness away from him. No, she banished it away. He promised to himself and her in secrecy that he’d turn a new leaf. 

Become a legitimate business man. Be the man she deserved, that his family deserved. He screwed it up. He’d miscalculated her emotional state and caused her to think he…to think what? That he fancied the barmaid over her. He slumped over the stool. He had to find her tonight, he'd start at Arrow house and get John and Arther to help him. He had to find her and make her understand that his change of heart was all because of her bewitching nature. 

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Sabrina gasped. She felt truly frigid. Cold down to her bones. She’d had pneumonia when she was little. It almost killed her even in the age of modern medicine. This was worse. She crashed into the long yellow grass and gasped as she crushed it and it stabbed her in response. She’d fallen onto it and with it being so cold out and dry it was like little needles piercing her palms. She knew she had to go back, and had to face him. She curled up into a ball and sobbed her heart out. This was worse than her own father's rejection. He wasn’t biologically hers but she loved him. Her mothers death had hurt but not like this, this was searing and hot and cruel. She cried until no more tears came forth. When her head was a little clearer she sat up grateful for the full moon. She could see and her power was stronger, so were her emotions apparently. A bitter laugh spilled from her lips. She grabbed her crystal ball out and tried her sisters. Finally after what seemed like an eternity Violet answered. She could see her eldest sister slipping a robe on and tidying herself up. The intimate act pained Sabrina more. “ I need you.” She sobbed out before the world went black.