#we know shes in the process of breaking down/cracking now

[k0uhi]

i do wonder if kengo's vainglory is only limited to substance & not full out turning into a doppleganger (as in down to dna) considering that his other skills lean into empathy & understanding (actually in a way assimilation makes him really similar to nanao since kengo turning into other substances requires some knowledge of the composition of it no...) ; even if that's the case though the duel with hualing was interesting — up to this point shes kept her cards close to her chest & its clear that she thinks the world of kengo as her student (possibly child?) confirmation that kengo used to want her attention on him like a mother also solidifies the bond

i would like to say she just wants everything to end bc immortality isnt what she was looking for so why would she have kept taking the medicine? ; my other guess is that she wanted someone to carry on her legacy, but what made kengo so different (besides that hes a yozakura and she is one of his longest teachers—and him her oldest student i spose) ? that he wanted to be hers?

[queenofwands89]

The Storm Within Tyler Owens x fem!reader

Summary: What dramatic turn of events unfolds when Y/N storms off after an argument with Tyler, only to face the fury of a tornado that strikes their town and leaves Y/N injured?

Warnings: Tornado (duh lol), angst, arguing, mention of injuries, description of injuries, sad.

Notes: I wrote this because I am a whore for Tyler, and I love angst and pain. Enjoy byeeee

You feel the tension build in the air long before Tyler raises his voice. It's the kind of unease that clings to the back of your mind, an ineffable sense that something is about to go terribly wrong. You stand in the spacious, cluttered garage that serves as the command center for Tyler's storm-chasing crew. The storm models flashing on the multiple screens show bleak promises of another monstrous storm front moving across Oklahoma.

It starts as a simple disagreement. Tyler is passionate—almost recklessly so—about chasing a particular storm cell that evening. You object, voicing your concerns about the jeopardy it poses not only to Tyler but also to the entire crew.

"You never listen, Tyler!" Your voice quavers, your frustration edging too close to the surface. Your heart hammers in your chest. "You treat this like it's some adventure, but it’s dangerous!"

Tyler rakes his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of determination and exasperation. "It's because it is dangerous," he shoots back. "But we do this because it saves lives, Y/N. If we can predict these storms better, we can give people the time they need to get to safety."

"And what about us? What about the people who love you? Are we just collateral damage in your crusade?"

Boone, who has been editing footage on his laptop nearby, looks up, his usually cheerful face clouded with concern. Lilly and Dexter exchange worried glances, while Dani silently tinkers with a drone, her stoic demeanor betrayed by the slightest furrow of her brow.

"I can’t sit by and do nothing while you risk everything, Tyler!" Your eyes well up with tears that you fiercely try to blink away. "One day, you might not come back."

Tyler sighs heavily. He takes a step towards you, but you instinctively recoil, the hurt in your eyes deepening the chasm between you. "Y/N, you know I love you, but this—this is what I do. It’s who I am."

"Well, I can't do this right now," you say, your voice cracking. "I need to clear my head."

Without another word, you grab your coat and storm out of the garage, slamming the door behind you. The echo of the slam lingers, punctuating the silence that envelops the room.

Tyler turns back to his crew, realizing that the argument has sapped the collective energy and morale. Boone breaks the silence with his usual attempt at lightening the mood.

"She'll cool off, man. Just give her some time," he offers, though his eyes betray the uncertainty he feels.

Lilly nods, her calm demeanor trying to instill a sense of reassurance. "Tyler, she just needs space. She loves you; that much is clear. Just let her process this."

Dexter, wiser and ever the emotional compass, adds softly, "Sometimes the best way to show love is to step back and let them come to terms with their fears on their own."

Tyler nods, although doubt gnaws at him. There is a sort of irony in chasing something as unpredictable as a tornado and yet being completely at a loss when it comes to matters of the heart.

You storm off down the gravel road, away from the storm-chasing headquarters. The expanses of Oklahoma stretch around you, vast and indifferent. You walk quickly, your thoughts a tumultuous whirl that rivals the storm brewing on the horizon.

Before long, a low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance. Your instincts tell you to seek shelter, but you are too consumed by your emotions to heed the warnings. Your phone buzzes, probably Jake checking in with you, but you ignore it.

As minutes turn to an hour, the sky darkens ominously, the oppressive weight of the storm hanging palpably in the air. You look up just as the first sharp gust of wind howls past you, sending a chill down your spine.

Your phone rings again. This time, you pick it up. It is Tyler.

"Y/N, you need to get back here. Now! There's an strom projected to hit our area. It's not safe out there!"

Before you can respond, the roar of the wind drowns out his voice. In the distance, a wall of debris begins to rise—terrifying in its beauty and formidable in its power. You feel a jolt of fear as you realize the windstorm is bearing down on you.

Panic-stricken, you try to find cover, but there is nowhere to go. The winds intensify, whipping your hair across your face and pulling at your clothes. In a desperate attempt to hold onto something, anything, you grab onto a nearby fence post as the monstrous tornado descends upon the town.

Back at the garage, the team is glued to their screens, tracking the terrifying path of the cyclone. Tyler's eyes are wide with dread, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

"We need to go find her!" he shouts, his voice breaking with worry as he lunges toward the door.

Dexter and Boone spring into action, their grips tight on his arms, holding him back with all their strength. "Tyler, we will find her," Dexter insists, his voice steady yet intense. "But rushing headfirst into this will only get us all killed. We need a plan."

Tyler struggles against their hold, desperation etched into every line of his face. "You don't understand! She’s out there, and every second counts!"

Lilly's eyes mirror his fear but she nods in agreement with Dexter. "He's right, Tyler. We have to be smart about this."

Dani is already at the armored storm-chasing vehicle, her fingers flying over the controls as she starts the engine. "Let's go," she commands, her voice a beacon of resolve amidst the chaos.

The ride out is like plunging into a nightmare. The town around them is unrecognizable—a hellscape of uprooted trees, shattered windows, and debris swirling in the violent wind. The roar of the storm is deafening, a monstrous wall of sound that seems intent on swallowing them whole.

Every turn is fraught with danger, every street a potential deathtrap. The armored vehicle groans under the force of the gale, but it presses onward, cutting a determined path through the destruction.

Tyler's eyes scan the devastation, his heart pounding, every fiber of his being focused on one thing: finding you. The storm's fury lashes at them, but their resolve is unbreakable. They are driven by a singular, desperate hope—to bring you back alive.

As the harrowing storm begins to relent, the world around you is a landscape of devastation. The monstrous tornado has passed, leaving behind a chaotic aftermath. The team ventures deeper into the wreckage, eyes scanning anxiously for any sign of you.

Then they see you. Crumpled on the ground, clutching a fence post as though it’s the only thing tethering you to life, you lie unconscious, battered by the storm’s fury. Debris is scattered all around, a haunting testament to the storm's wrath. Tyler's heart wrenches at the sight.

Without a second thought, he leaps out of the vehicle, ignoring the stinging wind and flying debris that tug at his clothes and batter his body. "No, no, no," he mutters under his breath, sprinting towards you with a singular focus.

"Y/N!" he cries out, his voice breaking as he nears you. The sound barely cuts through the howl of the wind. He kneels beside you, wrapping his arms around your frail form, shielding you from the remnants of the storm. "Please, Y/N. Wake up."

Boone, sitting in the driver’s seat, immediately jumps out of the vehicle as well. He turns to Lilly and Dexter, his expression serious and determined. "Lilly, grab the emergency blankets. Dexter, I need you to help get Y/N into the truck, now!"

Boone rushes over to Tyler, his mouth set in a grim line. "Tyler, move aside. We need to get her stabilized." He swiftly yet carefully checks your pulse and breathing. "She's still with us. We have to move quickly."

“Be careful!” Tyler shouts over the wind to the crew, his voice tinged with panic. “She’s hurt!”

They work with meticulous care, gently extricating you from the wreckage. Tyler's hands shake as he helps lift you, his mind a whirlwind of desperate prayers and fear.

Dani, standing nearby, fights back tears, her voice breaking as she says, "Hang in there, Y/N. We’re not losing you."

They rush you back to the relative safety of the vehicle, urgency in every step. The vehicle starts moving, navigating through the storm’s terrible wake with a singular mission: to get you to medical attention.

Tyler sits beside you, cradling your hand in his, his eyes never leaving your face. “Hang in there, Y/N,” he whispers, as though sheer willpower could keep you tethered to life. “We’re almost there. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The crew speeds through the chaotic aftermath, dodging fallen branches and uprooted signs. Dexter keeps a vigilant eye on the road, never slowing down. Lilly's hands shake as she dabs at your wounds with a cloth from the medical kit, trying to do whatever she can to help.

All the while, Tyler stays with you, his heart breaking and yet holding onto hope, as the vehicle barrels towards the hospital, each mile bringing you closer to safety. Tyler holds you tightly, his voice trembling and tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks as he whispers, "I'm so sorry. I love you. Please, hold on. Just hold on a little longer, baby."

[san8ny]

Can you do tutor!reader and dealer!Ellie where r is tutoring Ellie and Ellie falls head over heels, walking r to class, driving her home, and even helping her release some stress after a hard exam

SQUARE ROOT OF WHAT ?

?: You’ve been chosen to tutor someone for a quick cash-grab, but do they have to be this dumb? Maybe you’ll have to change your teaching style a bit.. / E.W / 18+

!: back to mfin BACK!!

“That's like, not correct."

Ellie lifts her head up with the hundredth tired look, meeting your strict one with oddity— how were you still so into this after lecturing her for a good..2 hours? She was sure you’d give up on her like the rest did.

Sighing, you lean over her and hold the pencil steady for her in her own grip as you show her where and when to mark the numbers down..or round them, whatever you were saying.

To be fair, Ellie did want to pass this class bad, but her eyes were beginning to strain from how many steps it came to solving this equation and mainly how you had good tits— what? Your eyes widen and you step back a bit, covering your neckline now.

Fuck, did she say that out-loud?

Scrambling from where she had her head laid on the table, knocking down her chair in the process and slipping onto the floor— she panic strickenly apologizes, informing you she wasn’t thinking straight Literally, and that she didn’t mean it in a weird way!

Modestly, you nod, trying to conceal the faint hue your facial undertones bring out, like the girl you were tutoring didn’t just say you had the nicest rack she’d ever seen. Coughing slightly, you two sit back down at the roundtable.

“Okay, maybe we should take a small break here and meet sometime this week then? You can’t exactly do math with a uh, clouded mind.”

Ellie nods at this, bringing her hand down to rub at her nape nervously, “Yeah, good point.”

Nodding, you begin to gather your stuff, and while Ellie should take that as an initiative to get the hell up and leave, she stays back a bit, awkwardly lingering as she crouches down and hands you the broken protractor she’d cracked earlier. You give a curt smile as you take it from her, not exactly seeing the use of the broken equipment but also not having the heart to tell her “just throw it away,” so you put the cracked pieces in your bookbag.

“Again, man, i’m so fuckin’ sorry. I swear i’m not like, a pervert or stuff, I don’t even say that shi—

You interrupt her with a slight hand gesture, telling her all was well and that you actually weren’t offended, taking the bold statement as somewhat of a compliment. Ellie stares at you, tilting her head. Really?

You wave to her once more before leaving, insisting you needed to catch the city-bus but the girl shakes her head with wide eyes. No way she was letting someone like you on public transport at 9pm. No offense, but she’d had her fair share of naïvely taking it during late hours most would avoid the transportation.

With not much convincing, both of you knowing exactly who’s reasonings outweigh the other, she leads you to her car. It’s not as bad of a vehicle you’d envisioned for her, afterall, some scratches and dents were expected of someone who dabbled in street-racing and delinquency as Ellie, but her car was surprisingly clean and pristine, a newer edition of a make-model you weren’t too knowledgeable about, but then again, a car was a car.

As Ellie starts the car and begins driving, you put in the address on her GPS. “Oh! Actually, could you put it in my phone instead? My car one is faulty.” Nodding, you grab her phone, opening it with the passcode she reads out to you, once you’ve got your address in, Ellie cashes more in, “And your number.”

Your eyebrow raises at this, side balling her, was this her lame attempt at getting your number? She had no problem just..meeting you at the library prior to this at the designated spot and tine, how come she need your digits now?

“Ah..just for if I don’t show or something comes up?” You smile, typing your phone in while Ellie spares you a short glance but then back to the road, “You got it.”

From there on, it became a routine between you two. You would text often, meet up for your sessions then she’d drop you off— it was ideal for the both of you, only you found yourself wanting more.

Ellie was book-dumb. A ditz in cargo shorts. There was no doubt about that, but, she had other assets to make up for that. For one, you didn’t find yourself falling for her until she’d tell you all about her loser endeavors, like how she found a ‘make your own sillybands’ set on Amazon and she spent an entire school night making elastic bracelets or maybe, that time she added a drop of NyQuil Cough Syrup to her drink and swore down she made lean. She was a character to say the least.

Right now, she was laying on your couch as you read her flashcards. Surprisingly, she was rapidly answering.

“That’s all.” You smile, noticing her blatant improvement, “You finished them all. You’re good for the test.”

While Ellie would smile at that, she looks down at her palms, tracing the lines before taking a small shrug. You look at her confused, wasn’t she happy?

The girl stares at you some more before sitting up fully, her knees pressing yours, “We’ll..still hang after this, right?” You don’t answer right away, looking at her with a slightly dropped jaw. Ellie takes that as an answer, scooting in closer, “Right?” Her breath fans over your face a bit, proving how overwhelmingly close in proximity she was to you.

That’s one thing you’ve noticed about Ellie, and probably the only place you two collide in, the constant need for reassurance. Finding your footing, you nod, “ ‘course.” To that, she smiles.

“Well, we’re done so you’re free from my shankles for today.” You snort, laying back on the couch and reaching for your phone. Ellie hums, reaching behind her and taking out a small encasing baggie. You weren’t dumb, you could recognize weed at first glance. “You don’t mind, do you?” She coughs, leaning back too into the sofa. What else could you have said? “No, I don’t.”

Her eyes get glossy in a few passes is what you see, already so relaxed than the previous state she was in prior to this. You sit there, tracing her forearm with your nails lightly, a habit you’ve had since childhood, though no-one really complains about it.

Ellie hums, turning her head to face where you sit next to her, you’re so fucking pretty that it almost hurts her. With a slight shiver once she hits the blunt again, she leans in to nuzzle her face into your neck, laying on you softly in a slight spooning position. You were also, very warm.

You smile, raking through her hair with said fingertips, massaging her scalp. “Does it feel good?” Ellie nods, seemingly dazed by how skilled your hands were. Reaching a hand up into her hair, she grabs ahold of yours, bringing it down to her lips— pressing a chaste kiss to your soft knuckles. Your breath hitches at this, and she just looks up at you, “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Ellie..” Your eyes widen, mouth growing drier with each passing moment her eyes are transfixed on you. Geez, she really was adamant. “You don’t need to make me feel good, dude..” You nervously chuckle, not wanting to believe her words had deeper implications.

Ellie mouth opens, but shuts again, like a fish in water when you say that to her. You don’t want her to return the favor? How come? Is there something wrong with her palms? Do you think she’s dirty? Or do you just want her to get the hell up out of your house?

Her eyes alternate from your own ones to your lips, scooting closer to your face, “But I wanna.”

Now, you were a moaning mess on your slouchy couch, legs pried open with some rando you tutor giving you the best head you’ve had in a while, “Fuckkk..use more tongue.” You sigh, hand buried in her hair as you steer her, desperately lapping at your folds while you smoke her blunt.

Ellie nods repeatedly, burying her face even further into your cunt messily, spitting on it and licking it back up. Greedy..

“You’re so good f’me, hm? That why you purposely act stupid whenever i’m teaching you math? U-ungh..you’re so dumb, caving into whatever bitch gives you a smidge of attention.”

She’s genuinely about to cry from how mean you’re being, but she’s never been so aroused from such humiliation. She tries lifting her head up to give a rebuttal but you shove her back down.

“Y’know, actually, trace the equation earlier on me right now.” You snicker, “Maybe that’ll be our new method to get that empty head of yours to work.”

[pearlymel]

"The Masks We Wear"

Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?

Wc: 7.3k eat up

Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.

Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!

Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci

Click!

The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.

Humans can be cute, you think.

But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.

This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.

you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.

Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.

It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.

The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.

He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.

cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.

And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.

The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.

“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.

“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.

“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.

“Taking pictures.”

“Of the rats?”

“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”

You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.

“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.

The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.

You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.

“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.

Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.

Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.

It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.

Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.

“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.

“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”

Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.

“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”

You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”

“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.

“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“what is it?”

“… something or someone.”

Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.

His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.

The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.

“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.

“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,

what a bastard.

It.. certainly didn't look like that.

You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.

“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.

“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.

You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?

No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.

You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.

Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.

Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.

Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!

Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?

The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.

You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.

“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.

You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.

You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.

You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?

This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.

“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.

Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.

You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.

It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.

Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.

“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.

“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.

“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.

You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.

“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.

“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.

“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”

“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”

“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.

Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.

“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”

“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.

The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.

How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.

It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.

…

Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.

The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—

You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.

Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.

But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,

Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?

“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.

“dinner's ready.”

You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.

“was looking at the hero's pictures.”

“not mine? I'm wounded.”

You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.

It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.

You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.

Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.

Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.

“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.

Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.

“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.

Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.

You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.

A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.

“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.

“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”

“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.

“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”

You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.

“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.

“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”

His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?

“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.

“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”

Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.

Was your target closer to you than you had expected?

“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.

Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.

Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.

Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.

Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—

“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.

Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.

“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.

“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.

“yes he would, he's a man.”

“a good man.”

“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”

“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.

You'll just search his.. clothes.

You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.

As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.

It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.

But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

Shit.

“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.

“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.

“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.

“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.

“i have it on me because—”

“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.

“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.

it was a dream.

“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.

“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”

Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.

Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?

“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.

“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”

“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.

Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”

Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.

The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.

The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.

Asthma? Nah.

You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.

You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.

“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.

Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?

Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.

You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.

It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.

Batman?

You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.

It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.

“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.

That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.

Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.

“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.

"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.

Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.

“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.

And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.

“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.

His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.

“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”

One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.

Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.

Poor neighbors

"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.

You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.

You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.

Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.

Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.

You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.

“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”

Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.

Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—

a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.

The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”

You're about to shit your pants for real this time.

“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.

“I'm talkin’ to you too.”

Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.

As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.

It's the hero.

You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.

“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.

And before you could follow, the van explodes.

The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.

“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.

“I will call the police,”

“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.

“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.

Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!

“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.

You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.

When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”

“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.

“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.

Someone's in the area.

You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.

“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.

Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.

No that did not happen, but you wish it did.

Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.

Alright, you can be cool sometimes.

Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.

“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.

This is it, you just have to confirm it.

Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”

Huh?

This…

Is not

Wriothesley.

“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.

“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.

“You're the hero??”

“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.

Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.

You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.

You need to check the other people that were with you.

But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.

Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?

You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.

You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.

As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.

There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.

Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”

Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.

When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.

“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.

He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.

Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.

Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.

He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.

“W-wrio—”

“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.

When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.

“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.

“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”

"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”

You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.

Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.

“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”

Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?

Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?

He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.

“i… i knew it—”

“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.

Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.

“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”

He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.

It makes you rethink your life choices.

You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.

“you hid it.”

Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”

You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”

“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”

“Why?”

“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.

“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.

“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”

What the hell?

“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.

You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, “i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”

“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.

Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.

"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.

You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”

And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.

Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.

“Sweetheart—”

“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.

Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.

“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.

“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.

“i love you.”

“Wriothesley!”

…

“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.

You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.

“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.

“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.

More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.

“it's been a year.”

The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.

“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”

Never existed.

She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.

The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.

“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.

“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”

You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'

Even if it will mean risking your life this time.

[wtfsteveharrington]

don’t you want me | boyfriend!steve x reader x eddie

content & context: you and steve are tasked with checking in on eddie while he’s hiding out at reefer rick’s. 

mentions of drugs & all parties smoke, virgin!eddie, eddie gets caught masturbating by reader and steve, oral (all receiving and giving), steve accidentally initiates oral with eddie (makes sense i promise), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex, steve!breeding kink, cum play, cum swapping. everyone’s a lil fruity! reader is kinda just passed around!! **emphasizing that there are sexual interactions between steve and eddie!**

she/her pronouns used for reader!

author’s note: ... i can't believe this is finally getting posted but here we are! its been ages in the making and i'm so glad to finally have it out there. if i missed something during editing pls let me know! <3

word count: 8.4k - i added plot to this one!

If you thought Steve complained about being the babysitter, you should hear the way he complains about being Eddie’s caretaker. 

In all honesty, he still wasn’t quite sure that Eddie was completely innocent in all this mess. Was he a killer? Probably not. That doesn’t mean he wants to hang around the guy, let alone have you hang around him. 

He’s protective, that’s all. 

The grocery sacks hit the floor of the kitchen while Steve shoves the case of beer into an empty spot on the counter. He’s pensively looking around the house, a grimace on his features as he takes in your... Questionable surroundings. Empty cans of food, question sticky spots on the floor, a disgusting bong on the table sat next to McDonalds wrappers. 

“Now how the hell did Munson get his hands on a Big Mac but we’re still stuck doing supply drops?” Steve’s scoffing to himself, finally looking around the room to realize - “Wait a minute. Where the hell is he?”

It’s instinct. Within seconds of acknowledging that there might be a problem here, you’re back to back with Steve while the two of you scan the room. Looking for any signs of life or, well, death. You both hone in on a sound coming from behind the door at the end of the hallway. Exchanging a quick glance before he’s looking for a weapon - Grabbing a hold of the bong to use as a weapon. You however? Decide to settle for one of the knifes on the table which Steve thinks makes much more sense but he’s already committed to this damn bong now. 

The door’s barely cracked open and as the two of you get closer you can begin to hear Heaven’s On Fire by KISS playing faintly on the radio. Considering how tense Eddie’s been lately, you’re surprised he’s being this... Sloppy? 

you drive me crazy when you start to tease

You’re peeking over Steve’s shoulder, hand instantly coming to clamp over your mouth at the sight in front of you two.

you could bring the devil to his knees

Eddie Munson’s laying back on the bed, boots planted firmly on the ground, his jeans and briefs shimmied just far enough down his thighs to free his length. He’s hard, untouched, and you’re salivating at the sight. You and Steve stand there for a second longer than you should, both of you shocked at the sight. It’s not until Eddie wraps his fist around himself, lifting his hips off the bed at his own touch and letting out a quiet moan that Steve finally breaks -

“Holy shit.”

No one knows who reacts first but within seconds Eddie’s trying to cover himself up at the same time you’re reaching past Steve to pull the bedroom door closed. You’re trying to process what you just saw, mind only able to hyper focus on the fact that he looked... No, stop. You can’t let your mind wonder like this.

“Jesus Christ! Don’t you people knock!” Eddie shrieks on the other side. 

You look over at your flabbergasted boyfriend who’s punching the air and cursing Dustin Henderson for getting involved with this Freak. If you look close enough, you can see the flush to his cheeks. “C’mon, Man. Maybe consider not jacking off while you’re on the run for murder, huh? Especially when you have people running around getting you shitty Pabst and Doritos!”

The door’s being jerked open and Eddie looks so frazzled. A far cry from the man who was just sprawled out in bed touching himself. 

He has a finger pointed in Steve’s face, “A murder I did not commit! So excuse me for trying to blow off some steam while I thought I was alone. If you’re so concerned then I’ll be sure to clear it with you next time, Harrington.” His hair is a crazy mess, shirt haphazardly tucked into his pants, and his belt unbuckled. You can’t help but spare a thought towards how pretty he looks. If Eddie would meet your eye, you’d have to look away considering just how embarrassing your thoughts were getting about him. But, in fact, the boy refuses to glance in your direction.

You turn on your heels, dragging Steve behind you in an attempt to avoid them getting into even more of a fight. Storing the fact that Eddie Munson has a pretty dick away for later. “C’mon, Idiots. I’ll cook dinner if you two can play nice for a few hours. Eddie wash your hands and zip up your fly before you come in here.”

The song continues as you walk down the hallway. Giggling to yourself and sneaking looks over at your still flabbergasted boyfriend. 

feel my heat takin' you higher. 

burn with me, heaven's on fire. 

paint the sky with desire.

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

Eddie watches as you two navigate cleaning up the kitchen in almost perfect sync. His hand on your lower back when he brings the rest of the dishes to you, the way he takes notice of your sleeve falling down your arm and rolls it up for you, then you have the audacity to sing along to Steve’s favorite lyrics as the songs shuffle through on the radio. 

He’s taken to sitting on the couch during clean up, citing his “impending doom” as the reason why he can’t help. Really, Eddie’s not sure how much more of the love birds act he can take before his carefully curated facade finally breaks. It wasn’t that you two were being over the top with the displays of affection, quite the opposite actually. If anything, it was toned down from the normal levels you showed around everyone else. 

It’s just the fact that it’s real that’s driving him crazy. Cursing every day he spent without someone who loved him that deeply.

Once the kitchen is cleaner than it likely has ever been, you and Steve wonder out of the room and finally join Eddie. Steve’s grabbing the packed bowl left on the coffee table along with the lighter, sitting back in the recliner while you perch yourself on the arm of the chair. Trying to balance yourself carefully. You watch as Steve takes a long hit, holding the smoke before holding the bowl towards you. Glancing from him to the slouched figure on the couch, “Can we spend the night with you?” 

Eddie’s shrugging, grumbling out “’Ight with me but there’s not many blankets around this place that ain’t filled with holes.”

Nodding, more towards yourself than him, you lean forward to trap the piece between your lips and Steve brings the lighter up to the bowl. 

You’re coughing. 

Like, way more than normal. 

Steve’s quickly pushing out of the chair, grabbing one of the last wine coolers for you and popping it’s top with ease before bringing it back to you. There’s a reassuring hand rubbing over your back as you work your way through your coughing fit. Cheeks burning hot with embarrassment that one little hit nearly took you out in front of Eddie Munson. 

“S’good shit, Honey. No surprise you can barely take it.” You’re giving Steve an appreciative smile as Eddie teases you, leaning into his touch for a bit of comfort. “Should be this good considering it’s been the talk of Hawkin’s that you’re raising your prices on us, Munson.” 

Eddie’s got his hands up in the air, his bright laughter filling up the room before he’s reaching out for the bowl Steve’s offering. “Hey, a man had to eat, y’know? Now a man’s gotta pay bail... Prices are gonna triple after this.” 

When Steve’s assured you’re not going to pass out, he’s going back to the table and grabbing two cans of out the lukewarm Pabst case. One’s being slid over to Eddie while Steve grabs his keys out of his pocket to begin the base of the can to chug. 

It’s some weird power play you’re pretty sure. Asserting dominance with who can chug the fastest. Eddie’s quick to follow suit, using his pocket knife to carve out his own hole..

Now you just need to figure out why it’s kind of.. Hot?

You watch as Steve and Eddie cheers their punctured cans against one another, both of them giving the other a small nod then they’re throwing their heads back, popping the tab, and chugging the beer out of the can. It’s entertaining, this dumb grin plastered on your face. The weed in your system is probably making this feel like a much more endearing sight than it actually is. They both drop the cans once they finish, an argument ensuing as they try to decide who finished first. 

“I’ve never shotgunned a beer.” 

Suddenly there’s a lot of attention on you. Steve’s confused, Eddie’s entertained. 

“King Steve Harrington’s girlfriend has never chugged a beer? Surprised he hasn’t corrupted you already.” Steve’s hitting his arm, giving the other boy a playful shove before grabbing a can out of the case and tossing it your way. 

“You wanna learn, Honey? I’ll teach you.” Spoken so sweetly. Steve’s voice always laced with this delicate tone reserved just for you.

He’s standing behind you now, chest firm against your back and holding the can properly in your hands. Steve’s digging a hole with his keys into the side of your can, his chin on your shoulder as he concentrates on making it a clean cut. “All you gotta do is tilt your head back, okay? I’ll pop the tab. Don’t feel like you gotta finish it.” 

You nod obediently, freeing one of your fingers from it’s death grip on the can to flip Eddie off. He’s laughing, grabbing the forgotten bowl from the table and getting to work repacking it. Part of you wonders what Rick would think of Eddie using so much of his stash. Then again, it’s not like it’s going to be much use to Rick for the next few years.

The can’s brought up to your mouth, tilting your head back against Steve as he keeps his promise and opens the tab once your lips wrap over the hole. There’s beer dripping from the corner of your mouth, down your chin and neck, and you’re quickly reminded that you hate the taste of beer. Especially cheap beer. But you’re putting on a show so you’re committed to finishing it. 

Steve grabs a hold of your chin as the now empty can clatters to the ground, your lips colliding quickly and he wastes no time licking into your mouth. He tasted like a mixture of weed, more cheap beer, and underlying hints of his spearmint gum. You’re giving an appreciative moan as his hand slips from your chin to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

Now, Eddie knows he should look away. He’s intruding on a personal moment, right? But there’s just something about the way that you and Steve interact that’s so addicting to him. It’s clear you’ve spent hours memorizing one another, learning what makes the other tick. There’s a sad thought that passes through his mind registering that there’s no way he’ll ever get to have a connection that intense. Even before the, you know, murderer from another dimension ruined his life. Eddie was a lot. He liked being a lot. He never found a girl who liked him being a lot and for a long time he was fine with pretending it didn’t bother him.

Then the picture of true love showed up to this damn house hours ago and he’s begun aching to feel even a tenth of that amount of passion.

He’s lighting up the bowl, finally forcing himself to look away while taking another long hit.

Your hands are firm on Steve’s chest, fisting around the soft material of his shirt and gently shoving him back. “Enough. Eddie doesn’t want to just sit around watching you devour me all night” He’s giving you a dopey grin, the hand not on the back of your neck coming up so he can use his thumb to swipe away the saliva shining on your lips.

“Munson gets it. Sometimes you just can’t help yourself, right?”

Steve’s looking over to Eddie for approval but he won’t look at either of you. Exhaling a stream of smoke from his last hit before responding.

“Nah, man. The Freak title excludes any and all sexual connotations. Made out with Elizabeth Hertz last year but that was just because she wanted free weed. Gareth kissed me after a show because he was drunk off adrenaline. Don’t really count him on the list of conquests though.” He’s blaming the high inching it’s way through his body, but for some reason he wanted to make it known that he’ll happily kiss boys too. In fact, Eddie Munson will pretty much kiss anyone who wants to kiss him.

“Huh.”

It comes out so quickly and you can stop yourself, both boys now looking your way. You give a little shrug, leaning into Steve as you respond. “Just surprised, that’s all. You’re pretty, figured someone would have thrown themselves at you by now.”

Eddie’s blushing at your compliment. Honest to God, cheeks turning pink blushing. He’s throwing a wink your way while trying to downplay how much the compliment got to him.

“Wish everyone felt that way, Sweetheart.”

You’re looking up at Steve now who just knows what’s coming next. 

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

The two of you had talked before about including someone else. You both liked girls, that came up pretty quick. Robin asked you to play fuck, marry, kill one night while you sat around at Family Video during your shift. The way you drooled over Faye Dunaway gave you away pretty quickly.

Then, late one night, Steve was a little drunk and half asleep when he asked you what it felt like to kiss a boy. You said it was firmer, that their lips were rougher. But that kissing him made you feel safe and loved, though that wasn’t the norm.

“Kinda wanna kiss a boy the same way you wanna kiss girls. Quickly followed by, “Happy if I spend the rest of my life only kissing you though. Just something I wouldn’t mind happening.”

You just laugh while pulling his sweaty party clothes off of his body, tossing them across the room to deal with tomorrow. 

“You wanna kiss a boy, huh? Well, I’m sure we can make that happen.”

✧･ﾟ:*-*:･ﾟ✧

“So - Is that like a thing then? Making out with you in exchange for free weed? Because in that case, you’ve been smoking me and Steve out all night. Pretty sure that means we’ve got a great debt to pay.”

Eddie can strike the idea down. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Mere hours ago you weren’t fully sure if Eddie was a killer and you weren’t fully sure that Steve wouldn’t kill Eddie. He’s toying with the rip in his jeans over his knee, looking over the two of you as if he’s trying to decide if this is real or not.

“You and Steve…” He’s dragging out your names, almost as though he were testing out how they taste on his tongue. You and Steve.

You’re looking back to get confirmation from Steve who’s nothing more than entertained. You’re stepping towards Eddie now, slow enough where anyone can stop you yet not surprised neither of them do. He’s not taking his eyes off of you and you can see his breathing pick up as you get closer. Your knees are sinking into the couch beside him, kneeling into the cushions and reaching over to rest your hand on his upper thigh. Giving him a small squeeze and his muscle twitches in response to the touch. 

“Do you wanna kiss me, Eddie? Kiss us?” 

His breathing cuts off completely, and if you weren’t paying such close attention to his face you would have caught the way his hand goes from playing with the rip to actually pinching himself on his thigh. There’s no way this is real. Eddie’s nodding a little too eagerly, his cool guy facade falling apart. You lean forward, the smell of your perfume ever so faint but taking over his brain, to grab his hand. Dragging it up your own chest, along the curve of your breast, bringing his hand around the front of your throat, finally directing him to cup the back of your throat instead. 

“Then kiss me.”

Eddie’s risking a glance over to Steve as he tightens his grip on your neck, half expecting to see the other boy with his fist cocked back, ready to swing and fight for you.

He’s not though. 

Just giving a small shrug of his shoulders, trying to bite down his entertained grin. You always got what you wanted, Steve’s just surprised it’s Eddie you want. He can’t blame you. Maybe it’s the mood set by the two year old Christmas lights that Rick never takes down illuminating the room, the buzz vibrating throughout your bodies, or the way Eddie keeps looking between you with those wide brown eyes... Something about the situation has Steve understanding the way you feel. 

Your hands are on Eddie’s chest now, fisting around the material as you lean in to ghost your lips against his. “Are you gonna make me ask again?” His fingers are twitching on the back of your neck, tightening his grip before finally connecting your lips together. The kiss is timid at first, you can feel the nerves practically rolling off of his body, so you take it upon yourself to take the lead. 

Eddie’s moaning into your mouth when he feels your tongue swipe along his bottom lip. He’s licking over his own lip, savoring the taste of Pabst, weed, and the sickly sweet taste of wine coolers you’d been sipping on all night. Somewhere buried under all that, there’s the taste of just you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, licking into your mouth and giving an appreciative moan once again. You delight in just how vocal he’s being.

The couch’s dipping beside you, Steve settling back into the cushions to get a better view. His hand is low on your back, sliding down to knead at the flesh of your ass as you and Eddie settle into a rhythm. You can tell he’s inexperience and it’s endearing to say the least. 

Your hand cups over the bulge in Eddie’s lap, rubbing along his growing length as he moans into your mouth. “Wanna see you, Baby. Is that okay?” His jaw goes slack, risking a glance over to Steve for approval. He’s just shrugging it off, his own hand coming to palm over his jeans as he mimics your motions on Eddie. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” 

Eddie’s trying to process everything going on and it takes a moment for him to respond. Finally giving an unsteady nod to the room before looking back to you and God you can tell he’s nervous. His hands are on the back of your arms now as he mindlessly rubs up and down them, trying to keep himself grounded in the moment. “Then, uh, yeah. Yeah, that’ll be.... Good.” 

Without much more convincing you get to work undoing his belt buckle. Unlatching the cold metal before giving it a firm tug, Eddie arching his hips up in order to help you remove it from his body. You pitch it under his arm and you feel his body jerk at the sudden sound. If you weren’t careful the mood could go sour quick due to the reminder of why you’re all here in the first place. 

“So no one has ever touched you before? Just me?” Eddie nods enthusiastically as you unbutton his jeans, his breath hitching when he hears the sound of his zipper being pulled down. “Just you, Princess. Kinda scared, fuck, that I’m not gonna last that long if we’re being honest.” You’re giggling at the admission and Eddie’s thanking every star in the galaxy that he took the time to actually shower and change into clean clothes when you guys showed up. 

The room fills with the sounds of both of you moaning when you finally slip your hand into Eddie’s boxers and feel his length against your hand. He’s gripping the back of your arms now, the circuit he’s been running this whole time, as he whimpers and rocks up to your touch. You make quick work of tugging his jeans and boxes down just enough to free him from his clothes. Marveling at the sight of him erect and desperate. 

You wrap your hand around the base, giving him an experiment dry tug. Eddie’s head falls back against the wall as he moans out a string of profanities. His mind has to drift off to focus on anything but your touch or he’s going to finish from just one brush of your hand. You’re proud of yourself, giving him another flick of your wrist before letting him go. You start to push off the couch, standing up and pulling your shirt off of your overheated frame. Making quick work of your bra before tossing the both of them into the corner.

Eddie’s thankful for the break but he’s so hard that it fucking hurts. The sight of you topless in front of them is not helping his cause.

Steve’s eyes are on you as you reach over to him. He’s entertained and you can tell he’s hard in his tight jeans. You hold your hand out under his mouth, “Can you spit in my hand, Baby?” Steve grabs a hold of your wrist and does as he is told. Licking a strip down your fingers before spitting into your hand. He’s giving your wrist a squeeze before pushing your hand back towards Eddie. 

You fall to your knees in between Eddie's legs and go right back to wrapping your wrist around him, lazily dragging your fist around him. Eddie’s clinging to you as you take your time exploring him, smiling down at the boy. “You’re longer than Steve. Not as thick but you’re long. Such a pretty cock, Eddie. Thank you for letting me take care of you tonight.” 

He can barely even get his thoughts together fast enough to respond before you start shuffling off of his lap. Hand still firmly around his length as you settle on your knees between his legs. Eddie finally looks down at you and there could be angel wings coming from your back as far as he's concerned considering what a heavenly sight you make.

"Can I taste you, Eddie?" You're hamming it up for him. Batting your eyelashes and pouting. Something straight out of a porno, all for him.

It's odd - Steve feels almost... Proud? Maybe that's not the best word for describing watching your girlfriend suck someone else's dick but it's the best one he can find. You gorgeous in this lighting, you're being playful, and hell it's practically charity work. Taking this poor guy's virginity as a treat while his world is falling apart. It's admirable, really.

Eddie's frantically nodding while he twitches under your touch. Reaching down to try and shimmy his pants further down his legs so you have a better angle. "Darlin', you can do fucking anything to me. Don't have to ask anymore, okay? I appreciate but whatever you want is fine by me."

You grin up at him and lean closer, sticking your tongue out and keeping eye contact while tapping the head of his cock against your tongue. There's saliva dripping off your tongue and onto him, running down the sides of your length until it meets your fist. You're leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of him. Giving an appreciative hum before sinking down further around him.

Steve's taught you well. He's laid back and let you 'practice' sucking him off for hours at this point. His fingers laced behind his head while you get your throat used to taking him further and further. Sometimes he feels bad taking up all the attention and has you straddle his face to return the favor while you suck him off.

All that training and Eddie gets to reap the rewards.

It's easy for you to build up a stead pace. Tongue swirling his tip and using your hand to jack off his exposed length before you take him back into his mouth. Your other hand comes up to cup the weight his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze as you work.

Eddie’s bucking up his length deeper into your throat, causing you to gag around the sudden intrusion. “Gotta chill out, Munson.” He’s storing away the fact that Steve Harrington chastising him makes his cock twitch in your mouth. Something about a pretty boy being firm gets under his skin. 

“Shit, my bad, Sweetheart. Just felt too fucking good.” 

Steve's scooting closer to you both while the old, thrifted and worn couch makes creaking sounds under him. He's taking your hand that isn't currently occupied with Eddie and putting it on the front of his too tight jeans. You give a hum of appreciation at the familiar feeling of your boyfriend under your touch, pulling back from Eddie's cock with a string of spit attached to your lip. You're using the same motion on the both of them while grinning up at Eddie.

"Can you get him out for me? Unless you want me to stop touching you?"

Eddie gasps involuntarily and shakes his head, pumping his cock through your fisted hand. It's slick and obscene and he's twitching in your grasp. He looks between the two of you nervously but when Steve doesn't object he decides to lean forward to move your hand out of the way, shaky fingers touching the metal of his belt. "You guys are-..." He's cutting himself off with a broken laugh as your lips press a kiss to the head of his cock, a reward for doing as he's told, "You're fuckin' insane."

Steve's beaming. He's eating this up.

His hips arch under Eddie's touch and you keep your eyes trained on the boys while lazily jacking off Eddie. Steve helps the two of you and pushes his jeans down his thighs, the head of his cock threatening to slide out of the slit in his briefs. Eddie's watching his face for a moment before hooking his fingers under Steve's boxers and pulling them down.

Steve's cock is thick and hard, dripping at the tip. You whimper at the sight of him, rubbing your thighs together as your clit starts to throb. Steve snatches up your free hand once again, spitting into your palm before bringing your hand to his cock. You wrap your fingers around the base and are back to repeating the same motions on the two boys.

You wrap your lips around Eddie's cock once again, his length sliding down your throat as he fucks into your warm mouth. You notice his fingers still linger on Steve's thigh, he's short circuiting at the combination of the both of you. "You are uh.... Fuck, she wasn't lying." Steve's chest puffs up with pride as the two of you both admire how thick his cock is.

There's a giggle coming out of you that you just can't help though the sound gets muffled by Eddie's cock.

This is crazy.

Eddie whines as you pull off of his cock once again but God are you a vision. Spit dribbling down your chin, eyes wide and dark with lust. You look over and pout at your boyfriend as your wrist starts to slow its pace on both of them. He knows exactly what that look means - You're needy. Rightfully so too.

It takes mere seconds from the moment your attentive boyfriend picks up on your queue for the situation to completely change. He's pushing back against the couch and kicking his jeans fully off before ushering Eddie away from you. Eddie who's almost skittish, desperately wanting to make sure he doesn't overstep and doing as he's told.

He watches as Steve pulls you up from the ground, a hand instantly going to the back of your neck as he pulls you into a feverish kiss. You instantly melt against his chest, a mess of parted lips and breathy moans and whimpers that are going right through him. There's a hand slipping into your pants, Steve's nimble fingers making quick work of cupping over your heat.

Steve moans into your mouth while his cock twitches against your thigh, "Baby, you let yourself get this wet without letting me know?" You pathetically nod, desperately gripping onto Steve's arms as he drags a finger between your folds. "Bet this pussy wants to be fucked so bad, huh?" That finger presses into you now without warning and Steve bucks his hips at the same time you clenched around his digit. "Fuck, can feel how needy you are."

Eddie's going to fucking combust.

Your boyfriend doesn't even look away from you as he pats his hand against your pussy, kissing you once more before just talking into the abyss. "We need a bed."

And that's how you end up down the hallway with Steve pushing you back against this shitty bed, the springs whining under you as you bounce against the thin padding. Eddie can't help but think how much better you deserve but they're working with what they've got for now. Your pants and underwear are being ripped off by Steve and Eddie nearly creams himself at the sight of your bare pussy exposed to them both.

Your feet are planted far apart, legs falling open to give them both a good look. Their gazes are intense and empowering as you reach a hand down to toy with your clit, giving them a dramatic moan as you do. Someone needs to check Eddie's pulse because he's half convinced he died the other night and this is just some weird section of Heaven.

Steve steps over to Eddie, clapping a hand against his shoulder before reaching down to tug his shirt off of his slender frame. "I'll let you go first since you've never fucked before but you better treat her, Muson. I know my girl, I'll know if you don't do a good job, yeah?"

He's stumbling over to you, jaw slack and all he can hear is his heartbeat in his ears as he watches you slide two fingers into yourself. "Jesus Christ...." You do your best to look like every man's dream porno at that moment - Pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, fluttering your eyelashes, whining while you use your free hand to play with one of your nipples. "Need you to fuck me so bad, Eddie."

Eddie’s looking around the room on the hunt for what you can only assume is a condom. Panic playing across his face much to both you and Steve’s entertainment. Your boyfriend’s laughing besides him, “She’s on the pill.” To which you nod eagerly, “Knew from the first time Stevie and I hooked up I had to be.”

The sound of a sharp smack fills the room as Steve playfully spanks his hand against Eddie's ass before moving to stand next to the two of you at the foot of the bed. He's leaning in to press a kiss against your lips, roughly grabbing at the breast you weren't teasing while Eddie moves to kneel on the bed between your legs. "He's gonna take good care of you, Baby."

Your brain is fuzzy. Your body is needy. Something needs to give.

Eddie’s hovering over you now, his hair hanging down and tickling your face. “Here, m’gonna take care of you.” You’re pushing your fingers back through his hair, gathering it up in your fist before sliding the elastic from your wrist and giving him a haphazard ponytail. It’s the best you can do given the circumstances.

Remember how Eddie was afraid he’d never feel affection like he wanted to? That moment threw his fears out the window. You were so gentle with him, so caring. It’s making his heart have this painful flutter and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to convey to you how much this night means to him.

You’re leaning up, brushing your lips along his which brings Eddie out of his train of thought. “You sure you wanna do this? No pressure, Honey. We can all go to bed and act like none of this happened.” None of this happened? There’s no way he could ever forget tonight. He’s shaking his head, catching your lips in another kiss while lowering his hips so your bodies are flush together. Eddie’s moaning into your mouth at the feeling of your core along his length, instinctively rutting himself against you. You snake your arms around his chest, holding him close to you while he balances himself with one elbow digging into the bed, his other hand reaching down to fist around himself. 

There’s a choked out moan coming from the boy as the head of his cock pushes into you. Eddie has to pause his motions and regroup himself before starting to sink in further. This is a life altering experience for him... He refuses to be nothing more than a virgin who can only last thirty seconds in your mind. 

You arch your hips up to meet him halfway, both of you adjusting to the sensation. Eddie’s staring down at you as though he’d lasso the moon and bring it down to Earth if it would do so much as make you smile... Maybe he needs to remind himself that you’re taken and this is only happening due to the oddest set of circumstances ever experienced. 

Hey, sue him, but maybe he doesn’t remind himself at all. 

Maybe as his hips rock into you, with a motion that isn’t exactly coordinated but it’s still driving you wild, he allows himself to savor the affection you give. The way you’re trying to fight the urge to close your eyes because you don’t want to miss a second of his expression. The way his name falls from your lips. 

Like Steve said earlier, sometimes you just can’t help yourself. 

“How does she feel, Munson?”

“Like fuckin’ heaven.”

Eddie’s rutting himself up into you, trying to decide between just staying buried so deep or using every last breath he has begging you to move with him. His body is short circuiting and he just knows for a fact that this probably isn’t the best fuck you’ve ever had but as far as he’s concerned? Sex has never felt better for anyone in the world than how he feels right now. You’re warm and wet, practically soaking everything that touches where the two of you are connected.

He’s letting out a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into your sloppy pussy and Steve finds himself entertained as he watches Eddie take on the role he normally gets you in. Babbling and begging. Steve’s laughing to himself before coming to stand behind Eddie. He’s holding his hands higher on Eddie’s hips, silently directing the boy on how to fuck you better.

To his credit - Eddie is a quick learner.

He’s capturing your lips in a gentle kiss - you can tell he’s been getting better at kissing over the course of the night. Your arms wrap tight around his neck, slowly beginning to drag your hips a few inches up and almost lazily fucking yourself on Eddie.

Eddie who can’t see straight anymore and isn’t sure his heart has stopped beating.

“Holy shit, holy fuck, holy fucking shit.”

You can tell by his frantic words that he’s getting closer. You’re not sure how much longer he has left in him so you make a show of arching your back into him, grabbing ahold of his hair and his bicep with the other hand. Fluttering yourself around his length before giving a dramatic gasp and letting your ‘orgasm’ wash over you. This part of the night was about letting Eddie use you for his pleasure, you didn’t want him to look back and think you didn’t enjoy yourself.

Steve knows you, knows your body. He knows what you’re up to and will make sure you’re well taken care of.

And it does work. Eddie’s hips start sputtering while he mutters out, “Holy shit that was so hot.” He’s barely got time to fuck another few strokes into you before he’s finishing without warning. Chasing the feeling by rocking himself through his orgasm, finishing deep inside of you. Partly kicking himself in the ass because he doesn’t want this experience to be over already. 

It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, leaning in to kiss you and mutter out praises and thank you’s in between every kiss. In that moment he’s no longer on the run, there’s no longer his life imploding around him. He gets to just be Eddie and there’s not enough words in the English language to convey how much that means to him. Eddie gives you one final kiss before he's whining and pulling out, the cool air against his wet and sensitive cock causing him to hiss. 

You only have but seconds to recover before you feel your boyfriend’s touch.

Steve grabs a hold of your ankles, throwing them both over his shoulders before he leans in for his turn to kiss you. It's sloppy and messy and you haven't had a coherent thought since you laid down on this bed so you can only imagine what kissing you is like but he's not complaining. He pulls back to get a good look at you, giving himself confirmation that you were still doing okay. Fucked out and blissful, he knows you're thriving probably more than you should be but you didn't feel any shame.

He pulls even further back to continue his examination, stopping at the sight of you spread open for him, marveling at the way Eddie’s cum drips out of you. He’s used to seeing his own, used to scooping it up and pushing it back inside of you, but something about seeing you filled up by another man… It’s bringing out a weird, feral part of Steve that he doesn’t quite comprehend.

You're whining and grabbing a hold of his waist as you feel the thick head of Steve's cock press against your sensitive hole, your puffy pussy throbbing even harder than you thought possible. "Getting fucked twice in one night... Just know you're happy, aren't you? Mhm, fuck, this greedy little cunt was made to be wrapped around my cock. Might share it every now and then but you know where you belong, don't you?" Your nails dig into Steve's shoulders and he chuckles as you arch your hips up, desperate to get him inside of you.

"Stevie, please. Need to feel you." And he doesn't make you ask twice. You're gasping and thrashing against the bed as Steve stretches you out. Even after Eddie fucked you it still took a second for you to adjust to how girthy he was. There's a mixture of your wetness and Eddie's cum being pushed out around his cock as he buries himself into you, the sensation driving him wild.

He’s slowly dragging himself back out of you, much to your protest. Taking the head of his cock through the cum that’s leaked out, collecting it on himself before lining up and pushing into you with one firm thrust. The sinful sound of Steve stretching out your wet pussy filling the room. He’s letting you relax under him while those strong arms hold you close to him, body going lax.

“So fucking full. Can’t think straight. Two pretty boys in me… S’good.”

Every word and sound you could make is caught in your throat, effectively rendering you dead silent. You don’t know who noticed your fingers working your clit first but Eddie’s tight grip on your wrist is keeping you from continuing. “Absolutely not.”

Eddie’s watching Steve’s expression for any hint of disgust or disapproval. There’s none. Instead he’s giving Eddie a small nod of encouragement. There’s a shift in the energy in the air.

You feel Eddie shuffle on the bed, his warm breath on your stomach, and all of a sudden you see the lights of Heaven when you feel Eddie’s tongue lapping at your clit while Steve picks up the pace of fucking into you.

Even in your turned on bliss, you’re not missing the fact that Eddie’s tongue is accidentally brushing over Steve’s cock. By the look on Steve’s face, he doesn’t quite mind the extra attention either.

“You’re both such pretty boys. Thank you for taking care of me so fucking good. No one else can treat this pussy like you two.”

Your words make Steve’s hips lose their pace, pulling out a little too far which causes him to slip between your folds and up towards your clit. Towards Eddie’s open mouth. His tongue already out for your clit when suddenly he has the firm weight of Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s cock in his mouth.

And they’re both moaning.

Neither pulling away.

Steve’s pumping himself further into Eddie’s mouth before he truly realizes what he’s doing, his balls tightening up for a second at the new sensation. You want to cry out, your pussy desperately clenching around nothing after being so deliciously filled. But you know better. You don’t want to disrupt the sight.

It’s Steve who jerks his hips back first, pulling out of Eddie’s mouth. “Fuck, bro. Sorry.” But he wasn’t sorry, not really. The only thing Eddie wants him to be sorry about is pulling out of his throat. You’re dripping wet. Like, wet spot in the bed because of your pussy wet. Steve’s losing a bit of that friction feeling and he doesn’t want you to be missing it too. That’s what he tells himself at least.

Tells himself that you need to be cleaned up so this night feels better for you.

Right?

So he’s taking a hold of his cock, fist wrapping around the base. “You uh, -… You wanna clean her up for me, Munson?” An offering to Eddie. He can either go right for your pussy and pretend that Steve wasn’t asking to suck him off.

And you’re not even offended when he picks Steve. Because the sight of Eddie Munson sucking you off of Steve’s dick?

Steve’s moaning as Eddie wraps his lips around his cock. Swirling his tongue around the tip before working on taking more length. Your fingers are back on your pussy and fuck you really did need to be cleaned up. You’ve got two fingers pushed into yourself, and while it doesn’t match how full you just felt, the view makes up for it. 

The sight doesn’t last long, Steve pulling himself out of Eddie’s mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Not gonna last much longer if we keep this up.” And to his credit, Eddie’s pouting. His fingers touching his lips as he remembers the feeling but he’s nodding nonetheless. 

Your nails are digging into Steve’s back, clinging to him as if he were a lifeboat while you're drowning in all these sensations. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes and Steve’s cupping your face to wipe them away while Eddie adjusts himself until the three of you are as comfortable as possible. There’s Eddie’s lips at the back of your shoulder pressing a tender kiss as Steve speaks, “Words. How are you doing? Too much?”

It takes you a moment to collect yourself but you’re finally able to muster up a lopsided smile for him, nodding with your head bumping against Eddie’s. “Good, so good. Thank you for checking on me.” You slide a hand through the hair on the nape of Eddie’s neck, giving him a kiss as Steve pushes back into you.

You only get a few more kisses before Eddie has to pull back - He’s starting to get hard again and it hurts. He decides he has to try even harder to make sure he gets out of this alive just on the off chance you two ever invite him in again. 

Steve takes this as his chance to lean in, pressing his chest flat against yours as he bends you in half. There’s a warm hand cupping your jaw and you wait until he gets closer, your lips finally touching so you’re able to keep your voice low. “Always so good to me, Stevie. Treat me so well… Treat this pussy so good. Love belonging to you.”

He’s groaning into your mouth, savoring every word you give him. “Gonna make my pretty girl cum…. Can feel how bad you need me. Fuck, squeezing me so tight.” Steve starts to pick up the pace and jackhammers himself into you. Relentless, claiming. All you can do is lay there and take your boyfriend. He knows how bad you need to finish, how badly you need him. The coarse pubes at the base of his cock keep brushing against your overstimulated clit and you cry out, arching your back up into him as you start to black out from this level of pleasure. Spots in your vision, no thoughts in your head. Just pure pleasure taking over your body.

There’s not much warning when your orgasm finally hits your body. Your back arching off of the bed and legs starting to shake as it vibrates through every inch of your being. The loud, lewd sounds coming out of you making everyone thankful they’re so far into the woods. Steve’s slowing his pace while he fucks you through the sensation, warm arms wrapping around your body after he drops your legs to let them fall to the side of you two. He’s shushing you, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck. “That’s it, Baby. Let go, I’ve got you. Such a good girl for me.” 

Steve's orgasm comes quickly after yours, the spasms of your core milking it out of him. You know he's going to be scratched and bruised tomorrow morning from the way you're desperately clinging to him at the feeling of being so, so full. You wanna offer him the same reassurance but there’s nothing able to come out of you except a mess of ‘Love you. Love you so much’ which makes his heart tug.

He’s pulling back after the two of you have a moment to collect yourselves, looking at you all blissed out and your body fully relaxed after having been used as much as one could probably withstand. Your head is still tilted back against the pillow, his fingers pushing through your hair as it keeps sticking to your damp forehead each time you adjust. It’s kind of endearing how gentle he’s being with you considering how filthy the three of you have been. 

Your whines fill the room as Steve pulls out of you, falling flat against the bed next to you. His fingers tangle together with yours as he still craves your touch. 

Eddie had left the room towards the end of your intercourse - The moment so intimate that he felt as though he was intruding. He’s sneaking back in, giving the sight of you two sprawled out on the bed a fond little smile as he sits down cups of water on the side table. The least he could do was attempt to take care of the both of you the best he could.

He’s stepping over to stand between the two of you, a warm hand cupping your knees to give them a gentle squeeze. That’s when this sneaky little idea comes to Eddie. Your eyes are closed, giving an appreciative hum at the affection felt between Steve’s touch and Eddie rubbing his hand higher along your thighs. 

It’s quiet for a moment as Steve lays on his back next to you. One hand behind his head, the other grabbing you still the only warning you get is a shuffling on the bed before - 

“Holy fuck, Eddie.” 

His head is between your thighs, tongue dragging right between your folds. Your back is arching while your hands come down to lace in his hair. Steve’s slacked jaw, watching as Eddie begins licking you out. His cock is giving a painful twitch, still sensitive but it’s a damn fine sight.

Eddie’s dipping his tongue into you, curling it just right to collect whatever he can get. Your hips are starting to rock up against his face but the sensation is just too much. He takes your choked out whimpers as a sign. Pulling away from you with this practically pornographic pop of his lips as his suction is lost against you. His lips are shiny, eyes trained on Steve. 

You watch as Eddie shuffles forward, reaching out to cup Steve’s chin. The sight above you? It’s addicting. Eddie’s thumb drags across Steve’s lips and he’s quickly letting his jaw fall open under the touch. 

Eddie’s leaning forward and you gasp as he spits into Steve’s mouth. A mixture of you, Eddie, and Steve being shared between the two. Steve’s groaning and your eyes are trained on his neck as you watch him swallow. 

Next there’s Eddie’s warm hand around your throat. His eyes are so playful, so cocky as he looks down at you. You know what’s expected of you and open your mouth before you’re asked. The reward? Eddie’s hand tightening around your throat. You’re reaching out to grab his hip, nails digging into his flesh while he leans over you a bit more to get the angle right. Like he said earlier, he doesn’t want anything going to waste. 

Eddie’s spitting the rest of what he has into your mouth, his hand coming up from your throat so his thumb can come between your lips. You close your mouth around it, Eddie feeling as you swallow what was given to you.“Uh -“ Eddie’s cheeks go this pretty shade of pink and he refuses to look at either of you, “Not to make this all weird and shit, but thank you guys for doing that with me. Never fuckin’ expected to lose my virginity to Steve Harrington and his hot ass girlfriend. But it was good.”

[theosbaby]

brokenhearted

theodore nott x fem!reader

masterlist

SUMMARY ! theo breaks up with his girlfriend and you comfort him, but things get a little bit heated in the process.

WARNINGS ! a bit of angst, heavy make out (this shit is long af), NSFW, some light dirty talk, praising, dry humping, p in v, marking, hair pulling, unprotected sex... that's all, i think. this is kinda a fluffy smut.

NOTES ! i'm back!! i'm sorry for disappearing for such a long time, i hope this makes up for it ♡ (i don't really like how it turned out, but i hope you do). ps: thank you all so much for still supporting my acc while i was gone! i appreciate it so much.

you had been looking for theodore for some time now; the night had fallen already, and you hadn't heard from him since the day before; he didn't go to class, neither contact you in any way. preoccupied, you headed over the astronomy tower again; you had already looked for him there —like four times during the day— but you decided to try again, after all, it was his favourite place in the entire castle. that time, you actually found him there, sitting with his back against the railings and a cigarette between his lips... classic theo.

when he noticed your presence, he looked up at you and bluntly said, "luna broke up with me." his expression was almost emotionless, but you knew him well enough to know he was hurting deep down.

"what?" you gasped, your brow furrowed, as you walked slowly to take a seat by his side on the floor.

you didn't know what to say or how to act; his admission had taken you by surprise. one part of you —the part of you that was crazy in love him— wanted to scream and cry happy tears at the news, but the other part empathised with him, making you feel his pain.

you hated seeing him suffer.

"yeah, she said it wasn't working out," theo replied.

he took one last drag from his cigarette before blowing out the smoke and tossing it aside as he looked up at the stars, his eyes distant and lost in thought. you kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt him so he could let it all out.

"i guess she's right, though. we never really had anything in common." he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head before talking again, "i don't know why i'm surprised, though. i'm not the most lovable person, am i?"

his eyes met yours, and you could see the pain in them. he was your best friend; you knew damn well the baggage he carried on his shoulders, the trauma his mother's death and his father's neglect had caused on him. theo was not one to get attached to people because of that and every time he lost someone, grief hit him like a truck, even if he didn't let it show. you reached to grab his large hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"hey, that's not true," you told him, your voice softening to try and reassure him, "don't say that."

theo gave you a small smile, his eyes searching yours to try and find comfort in them. he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his hand squeezed yours back. you could feel the tension emanating from his body, the pain he was trying to hide. then he looked away again, blue eyes dropping to the floor.

"i just... i don't know how to do relationships, you know? i never had any good examples growing up." his voice was quiet as he talked, almost a whisper, like he was telling you his darkest secret and feared someone else could hear him. "my dad... he never loved my mom. he never loved me. and now i feel like i don't know how to be loved, or how to love someone else," he explained, letting out a sigh, his brow furrowed. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bring this up..."

"theo..." you muttered, your voice cracking as you cupped his face to force him to look at you, "that's bullshit, alright? listen to me." you stared at him intently as you spoke, gently caressing his cheek, "you're nothing like your father."

theo's eyes remained locked on yours, his gaze searching for any sign of truth in your words. you swore that you saw his eyes fill with tears as he heard you talk, but he quickly blinked them away, not wanting to cry in front of you; crying made him feel vulnerable.

"i needed to hear that," he muttered, leaning into your touch, "thanks."

"want a hug?" you asked, smiling warmly at him.

you both stayed quiet for a few seconds, just staring at each other with an intensity that spoke volumes, and you were so close together that you could see the little freckles that covered his cheeks and nose, painting his skin like constellations painted the starry night sky.

"please," he responded.

you felt him wrapping his strong arms around your slim body and you melted into his embrace, your body heat mingling with his as you felt the tension leaving his muscles. one of your hands rested on his back, rubbing reassuring patterns on in, while the other caressed his soft waves and he sighed contently.

"you always know how to make me feel better," he murmured while pulling away slowly, his eyes filled with gratitude and a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

your eyes dropped to his lips unconsciously, your pulse racing; he noticed your stare and smirked.

"of course," you whispered back, "that's what friends are for."

you wished you could be more than friends, though.

theo watched you as you averted your gaze shyly and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked with the moonlight kissing your pretty face.

"you know," he said quietly, "i've always had this strange feeling about us."

"what feeling?" you asked curiously, chuckling; your cheeks flushed as you looked back at him.

theo took a deep breath before answering, "like we're meant to be together... like i was supposed to meet you and spend my whole life with you." his voice was slightly shaky, as if he was nervous about something.

he looked at you intently, waiting for your reaction.

"well, you ain't getting rid of me anytime soon, so yeah, i guess we're stuck together." you laughed, not understanding what he really meant; you thought he was talking about your friendship.

theo chuckled at your response nervously, shaking his head lightly when he realised you hadn't noticed he was actually trying to confess his feelings; he had always liked you, even though he was dating other girl, he always knew it was you who owned his heart. maybe that was why he couldn't just give luna all the love she deserved.

"i mean... as more than friends," he admitted.

he looked at you intently, searching for a reaction from your part that let him know you felt the same way. his heart was pounding in his chest; that was a big step for him to take.

you couldn't help but smile, anxiously biting your lower lip as you dropped your gaze to the ground.

"your mom used to say that we were going to end up together someday," you whispered with longing.

your smile turned into a sad one as you mentioned her; you knew theo missed her a lot, and to be honest, you missed her too. you turned towards him just to see that he was smiling back at you, but his smile didn't really reach his eyes.

"she always knew what was best for me. i miss her so much." he sighed deeply and tilted his head, resting it against yours. "i only wish she was here."

"she would be so proud of you," you told him, trying to make him feel better.

theo nodded, his voice barely above a whisper as he said, "i really hope so."

he looked at you again and smiled warmly. the air felt intimate and special between the two of you; it was like nothing else mattered but this moment together. and you both knew, you were in love.

"i missed this," you murmured, your eyes dropping to his lips briefly once again.

that time, theo's gaze fell to your lips as well, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. when theo started dating luna, that intimate conversations with him started getting less frequent, making you drift apart slightly and it had made you realise how much you actually needed him in your life.

"i missed it too," he whispered back, "i missed you."

after a moment of silence, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It caught you off guard, but you returned the kiss, feeling like your soul was about to leave your body as his soft lips caressed yours in such an intimate touch.

but then reality crashed you; you couldn't do it, not when he had just broken up with his girlfriend and he was feeling down, so you put your hand on his chest, reluctantly pulling him away to stop him from kissing you.

"we shouldn't do this..." you shook your head; your faces were so close together that your warm breath hit his face. "you and luna..."

"please," he interrupted you, his voice almost pleading, "make me forget."

"theo, i–" you stuttered.

you were fighting an inner war with yourself; you had been dreaming about that moment for so long, but it didn't felt right to take advantage of the situation like that. you couldn't bear it if he regretted this decision the day after.

he shook his head, as if he could read your mind just looking into your eyes, and cupped your face gently, pulling you closer to him.

"you're everything that's right in my life, sunshine. you're all i need..." he murmured, his voice low and desperate. "you've always been."

your heart melted when you heard him calling you "sunshine". that was the nickname he had given you when you first started being friends; when you asked him why he called you that, he told you that he had picked it because you were the light to his darkness, the only thing that made him truly happy.

you knew theo would never hurt you, that he would prefer to die rather than making you suffer in any way, so any doubt lingering in your mind slowly faded away.

"i'm sorry i didn't have the courage to tell you sooner," he added, his gaze piercing through yours with an intensity that spoke volumes.

"it's better late than never, right?" you whispered, gulping nervously.

you could feel your heart beating in your throat as you stared at him, waiting for him to make a move.

he smirked. "i guess we'll have to make up for the lost time."

and with that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours once more. it was a tender, gentle kiss that started slowly but gradually intensified as his hand slid down towards the small of your back, pressing you closer to his body. time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the warmth and comfort of his embrace. you were on cloud nine; lips avidly kissing his and skin prickling wherever he touched you, igniting sparks in your belly. you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, and you exhaled a sharp breath, whimpering against his lips.

he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that mirrored your own. his other hand found its way to your neck, holding you firmly as he continued to devour you with every ounce of passion he possessed. after a few seconds, though, you had to pull away reluctantly to be able to breathe, your chest heaving up and down as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, gently caressing it.

he smirked and rested his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. "you're a very good kisser," he murmured, his fingers still running up and down back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

he was looking at you with an intensity that made your head spin, your cheeks blushing at the compliment as you smiled back at him.

"you too," you whispered against his lips, unable to resist the urge of leaning in to kiss him once again.

his mouth tasted like mints and cigarettes; it was new, but at the same time, it felt familiar.

you heard him chuckling softly before he returned the kiss, this time slowing things down, as if he wanted to savour every moment he had with you. his hands wandered over your body, memorizing every curve and dip, his touch setting your body on fire. eventually, his fingers found the hem of your shirt, slowly creeping underneath and causing goosebumps to break out on your skin.

your plump lips parted, a shaky breath slipping past them as you felt him caressing your soft flesh ever so delicately, as if he was afraid of breaking you. he took this as an invitation to slide his tongue inside your mouth once again, avidly searching for yours and starting a playful war between the both of you.

you felt his lips forming a smirk against yours, his tongue having apparently won the little play fight it had with yours as he took full control of the kiss. his hand moved down your back, caressing your skin before he gently cupped your ass, squeezing it lightly, which earned him a soft gasp from you. you didn't oppose when he gently pulled at you to bring you closer to his body, making you straddle his lap as he leaned back against the railings.

he finally broke the kiss, letting out a low groan as you settled on top of him. his eyes were dark, and he looked up at you like he wanted to eat you alive. his hands moved to grip your creamy thighs, fingers digging into your skin possessively. you were panting at that point, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from all the kissing, but his breathing was just as ragged as yours, and his heart was beating so fast that he was sure you could hear it if you paid just enough attention to it.

"you're absolutely breathtaking, you know that?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you blushed in response, the smile that appeared in your face impossible to hold in. your small hands cupped his face tenderly, and your thumbs caressed his sharp cheekbones.

"don't say things like that," you muttered, getting all flustered and shy suddenly.

his lips twitched in a amused smile at your reaction, but before he could even say or do anything, your lips were on his again and the feeling was so intense it robbed him of his breath for a moment there.

"i want you so bad," he whispered against your lips, hips bucking up to grind against you unconsciously.

and that's when you felt it. he was hard. the mere discovery had you moaning softly into the kiss, hips grinding down onto his crotch in a desperate attempt to feel him once more as you placed your hands on his chest. good lord, the friction was making his head swim. he groaned in response as he slid his hands up your thighs to grasp at your hips, the need to fuck you coursing through him like a wildfire.

"you're killing me here, sunshine," he muttered, breaking the kiss for a moment before swooping back in for another.

you giggled playfully against his mouth, hips still rocking onto the straining erection in his pants. you weren't thinking straight anymore, your need for him clouding all your rational thoughts; theo was the only thing in your mind in that moment. the feeling was mutual. theo's mind was consumed with wanting you, his hands moving to your ass to encourage your movements, eliciting a whimper from somewhere deep in your throat that sent his head spiralling.

okay, so keeping a semblance of his cool was completely out of the window now.

pulling your lips apart with a loud snap, he growled something that sounded like, "you're a fucking dream."

you responded with a harsh tug at his brown curls, tilting his head back to expose the pale expanse of his neck. you attached your mouth to it greedily, kissing and sucking on his skin as you ground against him, which caused him to literally whimper as he shuddered beneath you.

for god's sake, he did sound pretty whimpering.

meanwhile, you felt one adventurous hand slipping underneath your top and sliding up your belly. theo's hand was on a mission, his fingers tracing along your silky skin before he cupped one of your breasts, gasping at the feel of its weight on his palm. he kneaded it, his other hand reaching up to grip the hem of your shirt while he pushed you away from his neck. he looked up at you, silently asking for permission to undress you.

"it's okay," you whimpered in response, nodding with a little smile on your puffy, red lips.

you knew you were in the middle of the astronomy tower, a public place, but you just couldn't bring yourself to care about it. theo didn't need more encouragement than that, he was already tugging your top over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes feasted on the sight of your naked breasts; his gaze was hungry, devouring every inch of your exposed skin.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand pinched and rubbed the other.

"theo," you whined as his tongue flicked your sensitive nub.

your hips resumed their previous movements as you fisted his hair once again; your heart pounded in your chest when you felt his hard cock pressing against your aching pussy, both of your clothes getting in the way as your need grew stronger.

fuck, you were so wet.

his breath was hitching from the friction between your hips, and he tore his lips away from your boob with a desperate moan, his lids falling close, a sheen of sweat already glistening on his brow.

"god damn, fuck me already, would you?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his desperate plea, leaning forward to kiss his lips once more; it was like you couldn't get enough from him.

you broke the contact after a few seconds, your teeth sinking into his bottom lip to tug at it playfully, then, you asked him, "here?"

his eyes flickered around the tower, barely sparing it a glance before his hungry gaze settled back on you. theo's mind was clouded, his cock aching and his fingers already tugging idly at his zipper.

"the hell if i care..." he mumbled, voice raspy from all the kissing.

you helped him get rid of his clothes, lowering his pants and boxers just enough to free his dick, which sprang against his stomach, long and thick; your mouth watered and now you were eager to have him inside you.

how could a cock be that perfect? not fair.

"fuck, come here."

before you could even process what was happening, you felt his hands gripping the hem of your shorts to tug them down your thighs alongside your panties. you slipped just one leg out of them before he pulled you towards him desperately.

you were completely naked, while he was almost fully dressed, and it was unfair, so you forced him to lift his arms up so you could yank his t-shirt off, exposing his ripped abs. thank you, quidditch.

he pulled you flush against him, skin to skin for the first time today and you both moaned; his hands gripped your hips tightly, fingertips tracing over your bare flesh as he guided you on top of his cock.

"gonna fuck you now, sunshine, you want that?" he asked for your consent, lips peppering kisses all over your collarbone and chest.

"yeah," you mumbled in response, nodding eagerly.

you reached down to wrap your small hand around the base of his shaft, placing the tip against your soaked entrance and lowering yourself onto it. since you both were a little too impatient to do any foreplay, his thick cock sliding inside your tight pussy knocked the air out of your lungs.

theo watched your face, lips parted and panting as you slowly took him inside yourself: he gave a low moan when his cock bottomed out inside you, hands gripping you tightly.

"fuck– baby, so fucking good," he complimented you, whimpering needily.

you stood still for a few moments to get used to his size before you started bouncing up and down on his dick, the delicious drag of his thick cock head against your inner walls making you shiver from pleasure. you gripped his shoulders to try and steady yourself, nails digging into his flesh and leaving bright red marks.

theo grunted, tossing his head back as he felt your walls clutching him. his eyes closed in ecstasy, hands travelling down to grip your ass cheeks and helping you bounce up and down on him a little bit faster.

"shit, baby... so fucking tight," he growled out.

"your cock feels so good," you cried out while dragging your nails down his chest and abs, scratching his skin.

theo hissed as he felt your nails clawing at him. his hands squeezed your ass tighter before he smacked it, groaning. "bad girl... don't scratch."

the slap made you yelp slightly, cheeks flushing red at his words. "wanna mark you up," you confessed, breathlessly, "so everyone knows you're mine."

you stopped bouncing as you felt your legs getting tired, rocking your hips back and forward instead; the new motion made your clit rub against his pelvis, sending pleasure waves down your spine.

theo chuckled, his eyes smouldering. "i am yours, sunshine. always have been."

his hands kept roaming your body, taking in the softness of your skin as he lifted you up just enough to be able to thrust up into you, hard and fast. you grasped at the railings behind him for support, crying out in complete and utter ecstasy as he railed you, hips snapping against yours and creating a wet slapping sound that mingled with your loud moans. your pussy clenched around him, and you felt your belly muscles tightening, signaling your upcoming orgasm. theo's thrusting became more erratic, his breath hitching as he pounded into you, chasing his own release. he grabbed your hair and yanked it back, exposing your neck to him. he leaned in and bit down on the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck.

"gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he purred, panting.

"yes, please," you answered between little moans and cries, your voice whiny and agitated.

your eyes rolled back when his hand slid between your legs and his thumb grazed your clit; you trembled in response. it didn't take long for you to reach your peak and when you did, it was with a loud cry.

"that's it, that's my good girl," he cooed at you, fucking you through your climax.

your cunt spasmed around his cock as you came, your juices soaking his shaft. your arms wrapped around his body while you squirmed uncontrollably on top of him, moaning repeatedly in his ear. theo wasn't far behind you, the feeling of your walls clenching around him sending him over the edge. he buried himself deep inside you, whimpering helplessly as he came in your cunt.

you moaned when you felt his hot cum filling you up, pussy still tingling so nicely that you weren't even thinking. "fuck– i love you... i love you so fucking much." it just slipped in the heat of the moment without you realising.

but of course he noticed.

theo's breath caught, his orgasm still rocking through him. he looked at you with a surprised expression, but it quickly melted into a tender smile, a warm sensation flooding his chest.

"i love you too, sunshine."

[clovdgyu]

#sylus x m!reader #fluff #sylus, the man that you are. rafayel honey, please don't let this man take me away from you

#university au, size difference (reader is significantly shorter than sylus), jerk/playboy sylus cause why not, rafayel being the sweetest painter ever, caleb is alive (i miss caleb), mention of sylus having sex with multiple people, suggestive-ish, some smut-ish imagination from sylus

#you were considered as the university's prince while sylus was labeled as the university's crush...but always broke people's heart. surprisingly, you two happened to be best friends.

"did you even like me, sylus?"

the question boomed throughout the whole council room as the girl shouted at the mentioned male who just stared down at her with his hands tucked inside his pockets. the silver-haired male scoffed before he let out a deep chuckle, "i didn't know i was supposed to like you."

the female, whose tears have finally flowed down through her cheeks, landed a slap on the other male's cheeks as she hurriedly left the council room. and as if on cue, you entered the room and let out a sigh as you looked at the man who was now sat down on the sofa. "seriously, sylus? the president's daughter?"

the mentioned male turned to look at you as you closed the door behind you, heading towards sylus with your arms crossed on your chest. he smiled at you before he shrugged and leaned his head down on the headrest to look up at the ceiling.

"i just needed a good fuck every week, y'know?" sylus reasoned out as he placed his arms behind his head, casually flexing his biceps as he looked at you. "unless you're willing to help."

you looked at the other male with a disgusted and annoyed look before you scoffed and placed your bag on one of the empty chairs, setting up the place for your council meeting later. "do you only ever think with your dick? why do you always want to get it wet? i mean you still have a hand, why don't you just masturbate?"

"once you've had a taste of—"

you let out a groan as you interrupted his words, knowing what he would tell you next. "good god, please spare me the details. i have no interest in having sex with just about everyone in this school," you joked, sylus raising a brow as he stood up and placed his hands in his pockets.

he looked at you, observing you as you set up the papers needed for the meeting later. "do you always have to stick to your title as the university's prince or whatever? c'mon, have some fun, will you?" he peeped, you letting out a chuckle as you cracked your fingers and looked at sylus.

"are you telling me i'm no fun?" you asked him with an amused look, sylus shaking his head as he sat down at his usual seat beside you. "title or not, i'm just who i am. besides, i'm the council president which means people trust me with this position, i have no time for bars and sex."

the other man let out a boisterous laugh then calmed down as he placed his elbows on top of the table, intertwined his fingers and placed his head at the back of his hands. "you're really interesting, m/n. the university's prince's definition of fun is 'bars and sex'," he stated, undoubtedly mocking you.

you glared at the other male and settled yourself down on the seat you designated yourself in. "haha very funny, sylus," you told him, rolling your eyes in the process as he hummed and leaned back down on his chair. "when will you ever stop with this habit?" you asked him with a hint of curiosity in your voice.

he raised a brow in question as he crossed his legs and looked at you. "habit? what habit?" he asked you back, not knowing what specific habit you were talking about.

you let out a sigh, "breaking people's hearts. you weren't born a casanova, sylus. we've been friends since we were still in diapers. we were practically joint at the hip, you were there for me the same way that i was always there for you," you reasoned out to him before focusing back on your papers. "what goes around comes back around."

the silver-haired male shrugged as he adjusted his sitting position on his seat. "i just date them because they want to. shouldn't they be happy i've given them the chance to get a taste of me? man, i would consider myself lucky if i was them."

"that is not the point," you interjected with an exasperated tone, glaring at sylus angrily. "i'm telling you to be more considerate of their feelings, and if you don't like them, reject their confession. it can't be that hard to say 'no', right?"

"won't that break their hearts still?" he reasoned out again, making you sigh at him again and crossed your arms together.

you stared into his eyes to get your message across and said, "dating someone plainly because of a confession is way worse than rejecting them from the start. if you choose to date them, then they'll have high expectations that you'd like them as well but you won't. what if i was the one who confessed? do you want your best friend to be heart broken after having so much expectations?"

sylus smirked as he dragged his seat towards you, leaning down on you that you could smell the scent of his aftershave more prominently. you looked up at him, unwavered. "i wouldn't do that, i would solely date you 'cause i like you too," he stated, yet you just scoffed and looked away. "i'm serious."

"yeah, is that how you pick up your fuck buddies? if you were to ask me, it does kinda work," you stated before you went on again about him stopping with this 'casanova' thing.

he sighed and crossed his arms before closing his eyes to take a quick nap before the meeting starts. "quit nagging."

"then listen to my advice well. don't sleep here, sleep on the sofa," you told him before he tsked and did as told.

"fine, whatever."

----------

as the meeting concluded, everyone was looking at the man who was sound asleep on the sofa, a book on top of his face to cover his eyes from the light. "(m/n), why are you even friends with that jerk? you better not acquaint yourself with him more," the student body treasurer, jacob, stated as he glared at sylus.

you let out a chuckle and shook your head. "he isn't usually this much of an annoyance back then. and i can't really leave him alone, he's my childhood best friend," you reasoned out with a sweet smile, the other students pursing their lips at the revelation. "besides, sylus can't decide things on his own. so i'm always there to back him up if he needs me."

"that's right."

a low yet authoritative tone echoed throughout the room as sylus stood up from the sofa and headed towards you, placing his chin on top of your head as he locked an arm over your head. "he's my spokesperson and if anyone refuses, i'll bite."

you sighed and removed him off of you. "i let you stay in the room which meant that i was trusting you to be quiet. good thing the meeting has just ended," you stated looking back at the council members and nodded at them as a sign for them that they can leave now.

sylus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he sat beside you. "i was just telling them to back off," he reasoned out. you were just about to speak again but the student council room's door suddenly opened. a huge smile was now etched on your face as you stood up from your chair and headed towards the person.

"rafayel! what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at your major class today?" you asked him, hands clasped behind your hands, clear evidence to sylus that you liked the purple-haired lemurian. "could it be? you wanted to see me?"

the other male, rafayel, chuckled as he nodded and showed you the plastic bag he was carrying. "i was craving seafood noodles when i suddenly thought of you. wanna head to my studio to cook them?" he offered with a sweet smile.

sylus could only stare at you two as you engaged in a conversation. you then looked at the silver-haired male and pursed your lips then went back towards him, grabbing your things on the seat beside you. "hey, sylus. i'm sorry but i have to go somewhere with rafayel, i hope you aren't mad at me."

the other male raised a brow and crossed his arms. "why would i be upset? because you're choosing another man over your best friend who's been with you since you were a child?" sylus stated, clearly annoyed and frustrated.

you let out a sigh then held onto his hands. "okay, then i'll make it up to you somehow," you thought out before you let out an 'ah' and smiled at sylus. "for all the times that i've abandoned you, i will grant you one wish. it can be anything."

now this amused sylus who was now smirking at your offer. "anything?"

"yes, anything. so think about it for a while, alright? i'll be heading on out then, see you later, sylus!" you said then finally walked off with rafayel towards the purple-haired male's studio.

as sylus sat himself down, he couldn't help but snarl as he remembered how you always talked about that annoyingly handsome lemurian. rafayel this, rafayel that, it's always rafayel. "god, (m/n). you seriously are so fucking dense," he stated while hiding the raging boner he has beneath the table.

his crush just held his hands and looked at him as if he was the most precious gem ever. he was so weak with you. him, a usually cold and annoying man, is hard over your simple actions. this can't be.

"shit, now i need to find a good fuck."

----------

the next day, it was quite uncommon. the other university students found it weird that you're unusually alone, no sylus to be found. you were on your way to your next class as you placed some notebooks inside your bag.

"no sylus?" a guy approached you, stopping in front of you which made you pause in your tracks. you looked at the male and smiled, shaking your head. "that's new."

you rolled your eyes at him and continued your walk, him following suite. "i don't hang out with sylus everyday, caleb. well, i was looking for him yesterday, but i figured that must've went home already. or he went on again with this weird sex habit."

caleb scoffed. "that's a fuckboy for you. always going around, goofin' off and having sex with almost everyone. is he planning on fucking every single student here on campus?" he joked, you slapping his arm lightly as you held onto your bag's straps.

"i've already scolded him about it but i guess he won't ever stop until it all comes back to him," you stated, feeling like sylus was a lost cause. "right, caleb. i think someone was just looking for you awhile ago. someone from my elective class," you told him.

the said male groaned as his shoulders slumped. "ugh, it must be that girl again. i told her she wasn't my type, she's still chasing me around like—"

"caleeb~! there you are. did you think you could ever escape me?" the girl shouted through the hallway with a sing-song voice, making caleb shiver as he said 'goodbye' to you and made a run for it. "ah—caleb! wait for me!"

you only laughed at the scene as you continued to walk towards your next class. as you rummaged through your things, you accidentally dropped something from your bag. you stopped and crouched down to get.

a silent 'oh' escaped your lips as you picked up the item and looked at it; the friendship keychain that sylus gave you back when you were in middle school, claiming it to be some kind of lucky charm. you smiled at the memory then stood back up.

"hm? what's this? you smiling at the keychain i gave you?" sylus' deep voice was heard as he walked towards you with his usual arrogant walk. you looked up at him and just smiled at him as he stood beside you.

"i remembered how you used to be smaller than me, and now you're practically towering over me. i guess my growing period stopped during high school and you kept growing and growing," you pointed out as you placed the keychain back on your bag's zipper.

he raised a brow and scoffed, amused. "you still have that thing? i would've thought you'd have thrown it away," he reasoned out as you two continued towards your destination.

you shook your head and shrugged. "well, like you said, it brings good luck so i bring it with me everyday," you stated out with a smile, sylus feeling himself smile on the inside. "that's why i'm holding onto it, i hope everything goes well later. i'm planning to confess to rafayel."

the 'happiness' that sylus felt a moment ago soon disappeared after what he just heard. you were what? confessing to a male that wasn't him? what if you two begin dating? what if things do go your own way? he can't let this happen. "go out with me."

you looked at him, not able to hear what he said because of your blabbering. "hm? what is it?" you asked him, wanting him to repeat what he said.

"remember how you promised me that you'd grant me one wish?" sylus reminded, you replied with a nod and looked up at him. the silver-haired male looked into your eyes as if he was piercing into your soul. "i want you to go out with me. as boyfriends."

his wish took you back by surprise, a questioning look evident on your face before you let out a baffled scoff. "c'mon, sylus. you have to be serious about this wish. it is a one time opportunity, y'know? maybe you need someone to wash your clothes for a whole month, your underwear, or drive you home everyday."

sylus stopped you and stood in front of you with his furrowed in determination. "(m/n), i like you. i want you to be my boyfriend," he declared, the other students who was passing by looked at you two with weird looks. you chuckled awkwardly before dragging him towards an empty classroom.

you scratched your head and looked at sylus with a puzzled look. "you gotta stop with that, sylus. i've already told you how much i like rafayel, you can't just come at me and tell me that your wish is for me to be your boyfriend."

"so what? it's that stupid lemurian or your childhood best friend that you promised a guaranteed wish," he blackmailed you with a look akin to a crazed man. was he really being serious now? "you're surely not debating, are you?"

you nibbled on your bottom lip before you sighed and looked at him. "i'm sorry, sylus. but i have to pick myself first," you answered him then finally exited the classroom, leaving the silver-haired male frustrated and annoyed, dejected.

so this is what you meant with what comes around comes around, huh? he thought to himself as he stared at the door you just exited from. "fucking shit, fuck!" he shouted, killing the purple-haired male in his mind.

----------

it has been a few weeks after sylus' confession to you and the day you and rafayel started dating (at least that what it seemed). everyone praised you two and said it was a match-made in heaven, a painter and a writer.

everyone could see how much you two seemed so happy in each other's presence, they were glad to see you two...all except a certain silver-haired male who was busy devising up a plan to break you two up with whatever mean possible.

and like usual, he's back to his usual one night stands whenever he couldn't stand the sight of you being all over rafayel. it was obvious you two loved each other but sylus was just not having it, he should be the one holding you.

what if that lemurian nobody finally got a taste of you before him? how would it feel inside you? will rafayel be able to touch you before he did? this can't happen! "fuck you! fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed out, eyes furrowed and nose scrunched as he drove his cock deeper inside whoever he was facefucking.

the boy beneath him gagged at his sheer size, holding onto sylus' thigh as tears escaped his eyes from the constant gagging. if only this was (m/n). this could've been even better. he thought, and as he looked down, the image of you sucking his cock popped inside his mind.

maybe it was such a huge turn on for sylus that he immediately came inside the guy's throat who was foeced to swallow. he thrusted a few more times to rid himself out of his high before he pulled his still erect cock out of the guy's cock. "get out."

the man glared at sylus as he put his clothes on and finally left the hotel. sylus sprawled himself on the bed and placed an arm over his eyes. "damn," he mumbled. he couldn't believe he came instantly at the thought of you sucking his dick.

what if you were here? right on top of sylus, riding his cock like the perfect little prince that you were, making yourself feel good with his cock as you chased your own high.

"fuck," sylus let out as he took a hold of his cock and began to jerk off to the image of your naked body, how it would feel if his hand was finally your tight little hole. "shit."

he would treat you so right as he fucked you into oblivion, until you can no longer think of anything but his cock, until you were drunk on his cock, wanting more of his cum as he fucked it deeper into you.

he would hold onto you so tight as he fucked you, slapping your ass as you begged for more, more of his cock, he would hols you tight until handprints were evident on your hips and wrists.

maybe then he would kiss you as he ravaged your hole, until your eyes were rolled to the back of your head. maybe then he would degrade you as he chokes you or maybe praise you every time you did a good job at sucking his cock.

he would drive his cock into you in different positions; missionary, doggy, full nelson, pirate's bounty, suspended, or whatever. or maybe you some bondage play; hogtie, frogtie, handcuffs, shibari, or anything he can name of.

maybe mirror sex would work too. he would love to look at the faces you make as he fucked you, looking staright into your eyes through the mirror. he would watch as you arched your back and cum just from having his cock inside you.

he would watch you squirt into his hand as he jerked your sensitive cock off. or he could play with your nipples as he presses himself deeper inside you, abusing your prostate as he tells you about breeding you, about getting you pregnant.

"fuck, i'm cumming!" sylus exclaimed as he threw his head back, ropes of white spurted out of his cock as he jerked himself faster, wanting to just fuck you already. "goddammit, (m/n). choosing him over me."

----------

over the past few days, you've been wondering why sylus still hasn't contacted you or ever approached you at uni. maybe it was your fault to begin with, you did reject him after his confession.

"(m/n)? is there something bothering you?" rafayel who was seated in front of you asked with a raised brow, you answered with a smile and a shake of your head. "it's sylus, isn't it?"

you were about to retort but sighed as you nodded and plaved your arms on top of the table. "rafayel, i really care for sylus as a friend. currently, i feel like my daily routine's not complete when he doesn't text me, message me, or talk to me at uni. he just stares at me then walks off. am i a bad friend?"

the purple-haired male hummed as he placed his utensils down and looked at you. "then why don't you tell him exactly how you feel, (m/n). you did reject his confession," he told you, you pursing your lips as you sighed.

"but i...i really do treasure sylus as a friend. i already know he sees me the same way as i do for him but what if something wrong happens in between of our relationship? wouldn't it be awkward between me and him? i don't want to lose him," you reasoned out, slamming your head down on the table. "i'm really sorry for using you, rafayel."

rafayel chuckled and continued eat his takoyaki. "it's alright, i mean you're my friend. i'll help any way i can. but you better sort yourself out before things go out of control, students really think we're already dating. i wouldn't want to ruin the reputation of the student body president."

you let out a groan and looked at him. "i mean, we never confirmed that we were dating. so that's actually on them. what if we were just friends, really? really close friends. have they even see us kiss? probably not."

the other male offered you a takoyaki and you gladly took it from him. somehow, rafayel felt shivers down his spine as he fed you a piece of his takoyaki, as if someone was staring at him, no murdering him in their mind.

rafayel turned his head to look around until his eyes met a certain crimson ones, looking straight into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed as he gripped on his knife a little too tightly. the purple-haired male gulped before turning back towards you.

"uhm, i-i think you should start sorting out your feelings before he eventually comes and murders me in my sleep," he stated, you raising a brow as you looked at him in confusion.

----------

days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. it has exactly been a month and a half that you and sylus eventually stopped communicating. you didn't know what to do exactly, this was the longest time you and your best friend has never talked.

your conflicts were usually resolved within a day but it's now been a month and a half. how was sylus doing? does he even wonder what you've been doing?

you sighed and threw the wrapper of your finished club sandwich into the trash can before finally walking off to head towards your next major class, until you were blocked by someone. you looked up at the person and widened your eyes in shock, the man you jave just been thinking abiut was standing right in front of you.

"we have to talk," sylus stated, his usually styled hair was unkempt and he looked so upset. "i just can't give up on you like this, not when my opponent is a puny nobody," he added through his gritted teeth.

with a raised brow, you looked up at him and raised a brow. "seriously? you're not even gonna ask how i've been? i've seriously been worried sick about you, sylus! i didn't know what you were doing, what was happening, you never contacted me."

he scoffed. "well, what went around did come back around. i mean i confessed and was rejected, guess i got a taste of my own medicine," he reasoned out as he tucked his hands inside his jacket's pockets. "give me another chance."

"hah, are you implying i should cheat on rafayel?" you pointed out, sylus' nose scrunching in anger before he grabbed onto your shoulders and looked straight into your eyes. "what the hell?"

"i can treat you so much better! why can't you just choose me? i know i can fuck you better!" sylus shouted, making you blush in embarrassment as you covered his mouth and glared at him.

you removed your hands from his mouth and removed his hands from your shoulders. "what the hell are you doing? are you trying to cause a scandal of some sort?" you asked him, adjusting your bag's strap on your shoulder and sighed. "guess it really is time for us to talk."

you two sat at a nearby bench and you mentally prepared yourself to explain everything, hoping sylus would understand. "look, sylus. rafayel and me aren't dating, i'm just using him to somehow forget about you."

sylus looked at you with a confused look. "what? why?"

"i like you, sylus. i've liked you since way back in middle school but i was afraid that us being friends would be ruined. who's to say that nothing's gonna go wrong between us? if we do end up dating each other then breakup, i wouldn't only be losing my lover but my best friend too," you told him, and for the first time, sylus looked as if he was considering your feelings.

you continued, "i was scared that all of that could be gone after that. sylus, i just really don't wanna lose you."

the silver-haired male looked away before he sighed and looked at you with a smile. "who said i would let that happen? once we're together, i won't ever let you go. i would lock you up even if you told me you don't want to."

after that talk with sylus, you and rafayel finally clarified it through a public post in your university's 'publicity' post which was posted by your news committee friend, zayne.

"wow, so rafayel and (m/n) weren't together?"

"i mean they never did officially announce they were dating."

"the prince? and that jerk?"

you listened to everything they said as you walked through the halls but paid no mind to it. you just exited your afternoon class' room and was on your way to meet with sylus in front of the school's gate. he promised you a date yesterday.

little later, you received a text from rafayel.

--------

little fishy: congrats, (m/n). i can finally have a peace of mind.

you: wdym???

little fishy: your boyfriend's been staring daggers at me the past few days. he must've hated seein you woth me.

you: haha, sorry

little fishy: it's fine. i'm just really glad you finally sorted out your feelings

you: [typing] thanks for the|

----------

"hey, look where you're going or you're gonna miss me," sylus stated as he snatched your phone from you, looking at your phone before glaring at you. "the hell? why are you still texting this lemurian weirdo?"

you scoffed and took your phone from the other male who offered you the second helmet that he was holding. you took a hold of it as well and walked towards his bike. "rafayel is still a friend, sylus. are you jealous?"

sylus smirked before he leaned closer towards you and plaved a hand on your bum then squeezed it, making you squeal as you looked up at him with red donning your cheeks at the sudden action. "don't test me, sweetie. you might regret it."

"make me."

sensing the challenge in your tone made the silver-haired male smirk as he got on his bike and waited for you to get on then said, "then you better hold on to your sanity while you're still in your right mind."

[ak319]

Haii!, I really like your Arthur Morgan series and I've also read it several times and it's not boring at all!🫶🏻

Can I make a request? If so, can you make the reader jealous because Arthur is close to Mary Beth?🫶🏻 (Arthur and the reader's relationship is not platonic!)

(AN: Tsym! Remind me why we making Y/n suffer again? PS: I'm terrible at writing jealousy shit ngl and I legit dunno why. AND THATS LIT WHAT YALL KEPT ASKING FOR-😭☠) Hope yall enjoy reading lol)

Warnings/MDNI: None, just angst and then fluff to soothe your asses-

You were by the lake, lazily washing clothes. The day had you feeling sluggish, and the pleasant weather didn’t exactly help motivate you. The water was just the right temperature, cool enough to refresh but warm enough to keep you rooted in place. You should really pick up the pace, finish up, and grab some tea--or coffee--or a well-deserved break.

The faint hum of camp activity behind you was oddly comforting, a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. That is until you heard footsteps crunching on the gravel, quick and impatient, followed by a sharp curse.

“Dammit! I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you, girl.”

You glanced over your shoulder, grinning as Molly stormed up to you, her face a mix of exasperation and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“For God’s sake, Molly, you know my Tuesday routine by now,” you teased, tossing a wet shirt into the basket beside you. “It’s not like this camp is big enough to lose someone. Honestly, I think you’re just bad at looking.”

She didn’t laugh. Not even a crack of a smile. Instead, she stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with barely-contained frustration. You paused mid-scrub, a curious eyebrow raised.

“What’s gotten into you? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Oh, sure,” she snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Leave it to ever-so-clueless (Y/N) to not notice a damn thing going on around her.” She gestured wildly toward the camp as though you were missing some grand spectacle.

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “What the hell are you on about?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she hesitated as if debating whether you were even worth the explanation. Then, with a dramatic huff, she took a step closer, glaring down at you like you’d personally wronged her.

“Let me spell it out for you. Do I even bother tellin’ you what’s happening? Or should I just assume it won’t make a difference because your ‘dearest cold heart’ won’t care? Or worse, you’ll just laugh it off like you always do!”

Your hands stilled in the water, the soap slipping through your fingers. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

"Y’know, what I just heard and saw?” Molly huffed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Mr. Arthur Morgan, having a chat with Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth! That same snake who’s all over Dutch, and now, apparently, your man, (Y/N)!”

Her voice rose with each word, and you blinked, caught completely off guard. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I swear to God, she was asking him to buy her another one of those silly romance books for her lovesick brain. I mean, why Arthur, huh? Why doesn’t she go pester Kieran’s ass instead?”

Hearing her rant, you stood up, gripping the damp shirt in your hands as you processed her words. “Wh--sounds like a friendly chat to me, Molly,” you said, trying to brush it off with a shrug. “I mean, Arthur brings stuff for everyone. He goes out the most, doesn’t he? And, well, Kieran… he’s not exactly allowed far from camp neither he can afford anything right now. They still don’t trust him, y’know. And Arthur, he’s like a brother to Mary-Beth-"

“Don’t even start with that ‘brother’ shit, (Y/N),” Molly snapped, cutting you off. “It's just a facade.”

Your mouth fell open, heat rushing to your face at the implication. Uncertainty clawed at your chest as you tried to stammer a response, but she wasn’t done. Molly’s jealousy toward Mary Beth only seemed to fuel her fire, her words coming quicker now, sharp and biting.

“And don’t act like it couldn’t happen. You think she doesn’t see how kind he is to you? How he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching? Oh, she sees it. And she’d snatch him up the moment she gets the chance.”

You clenched your jaw, her words making you shift uncomfortably. Sure, you trusted Arthur, but the venom in Molly’s tone, the way her words seemed to twist around your insecurities, left you feeling just the slightest bit unsteady.

"Did he even say goodbye to you before he sprang into action?” Molly pressed, her voice softer now, almost pitying. “And the other day, weren’t you telling me you needed some cream for your hands? You even told him, and look, just look at your hands.”

Her gaze dropped to your chapped and reddened fingers, and you instinctively tried to wipe them dry on your skirt, as if that would somehow make them better. Her words were digging deeper now, clawing at something vulnerable in you. Did he forget to bring it? Or worse, did he not care enough to remember? Had your wishes, his woman’s wishes, stopped mattering to him altogether?

“This is bullshit, you should have run away with that pen pal of yours, to be honest when you had the chance,” Molly muttered, crossing her arms. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you she’s after Dutch. And now she’s after both! I swear, those books she reads must be teaching her these tactics. Manipulative little-"

“I--y’know what?” you cut her off, your voice suddenly firm as your gaze drifted to the camp, your eyes narrowing.

“What?” Molly asked, surprised by your sudden shift in tone.

“Let’s just go,” you said, your voice laced with resolve.

“Go where?”

“Town.”

Without waiting for her to argue, you kicked the bucket of soapy water, sending it tumbling into the river, the suds spilling out and disappearing downstream. The laundry lay abandoned on the grass as you turned and marched toward the stables, Molly following close behind.

Damn everyone, then.

❀˖°

Arthur returned to camp, expecting to find you in his tent as usual. But when he stepped inside, the familiar space felt oddly empty. A frown tugged at his lips.

"Hey... um, Sadie?" he called out, spotting her near the campfire. "You seen (Y/N)?"

Sadie glanced up from sharpening her knife. "Oh, yeah. She and Molly went to town."

"What?!" The word escaped him before he could stop it, his voice louder than he intended. Clearing his throat, he muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and walked back to his tent, feeling heat rise to his face. He slumped down onto his cot with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You know how he felt about you going far from camp without him, even if you were with one of the girls. It wasn’t a matter of trust, it was fear.

And still you did.

There were too many dangers out there, too many things that could go wrong, and the thought of you out there without him stirred a storm in his chest.

It was 5 p.m., the time when you two usually sat together to talk about your day over supper. The time he looked forward to most whenever he was at camp. And now? He sat there, staring at the flap of his tent, the minutes ticking by painfully slow.

But what bothered him more was why you’d gone. And with Molly, of all people. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, he didn’t have a problem with her, not really. But something about the way you two were together always set him on edge.

He’d told you how he felt about it once. About how Molly seemed to lean on you a little too much, how her sadness and drama sometimes seemed to pull you down with her. But of course, you’d defended her, saying you couldn’t just turn your back on your best friend. That Molly found her only comfort in your company.

And you were right. He knew you were. But that didn’t make it any easier to sit here, waiting, imagining where you were and what could happen.

Arthur let out a frustrated sigh, his appetite gone. Instead of heading to the campfire for supper, he threw himself onto his cot, pulling his hat over his face in an attempt to block out the growing worry gnawing at his chest.

But even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t shake the unease. Images of you and Molly wandering through town, far from the safety of camp, flickered in his mind. He trusted you, of course, but the world out there? That was another story entirely.

“Damn woman never listens to me,” he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with equal parts frustration and concern.

Sleep didn’t come easily, and even as he tried to rest, he knew one thing for certain, when you came back, this was a conversation he wasn’t going to let slide.

❀˖°

Arthur woke with a start, roused by Bill’s loud guffaw somewhere in the camp. With a groan, he rubbed his face, taking a moment to shake off the haze of sleep and piece together his scattered thoughts. Then it hit him, the memory of you leaving with Molly, and the worry twisted sharply in his chest again.

He pushed himself up with a sigh, his body stiff from the restless nap. Moving through camp, he glanced around, hoping, praying, to catch sight of you. But there was nothing. No sign of you or Molly.

He considered asking Dutch, but dismissed the thought just as quickly. Dutch would likely know even less than he did, and Arthur wasn’t in the mood for meaningless chatter.

Back at his tent, he sat on the edge of his cot, pulling out his journal in an attempt to distract himself. The flap of the tent was open, giving him a clear view of camp, but his eyes kept flickering toward it, waiting for you to appear.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to eat, not until you came back, served the meal, and sat down beside him. That was how it went. That was how it had to go.

He was about to get up and go to find both of you himself when-

"Um, Arthur?" Abigail’s voice broke through his brooding. She appeared by the flap of his tent, holding a coffee pot. "There’s some coffee left, and I’ve got to wash the pot, would you like a cup?"

He shook his head, barely sparing her a glance. "Why’d they go to town?"

"Molly and (Y/N)?" Abigail tilted her head, her tone casual. "Oh, they’ve been back. Got back about half an hour ago. They’re in my tent, just hanging out."

Arthur blinked, first in shock, then confusion, which quickly morphed into anger. Half an hour? You’d been back for that long and hadn’t even bothered to come see him? Not even a word after being gone all day?

He shut his journal with a snap, the sound echoing his rising temper, and stood. The muffled chatter coming from Abigail’s tent grated on his nerves as he stalked toward it, each step heavier than the last.

What the hell was going on with you?

He cleared his throat outside the tent before pushing the flap open, only to find you and Molly sitting cross-legged, enjoying supper.

"Where were you? I was waiting for you."

You swallowed your bite, not bothering to look up at him. "Needed a few important things from town, actually, so I had to go."

Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Can you come with me? I want to talk."

"I’m already talking to Molly," you replied, your tone curt, still avoiding his gaze.

Damn it. Why the hell weren’t you even looking at him? That gnawing frustration in his chest boiled over. He had enough of this.

"I said, Come. With. Me." he demanded, his voice low but firm, the tone sharper than he intended.

Your head snapped up, eyes glaring at him with such intensity that, for a moment, he regretted using that tone. Hell, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t scare him just a little.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister. Don’t you dare order me around like a maid, alright? I sit, talk, and walk when I want to. And right now? I don’t want to. Now go away, we’re busy."

Arthur ignored Molly’s taunting scoff, still fixated on you. Something about this--about you--just didn’t sit right.

"I’m sorry, okay? I’m just hungry. I was waiting for you... Can we eat now?" Arthur’s chest tightened, guilt creeping in. He rubbed the back of his neck, his anger softening. "...I was just worried as hell."

Hell, I still am.

But you didn’t let it go. "I’ve already eaten, and I didn’t ask you to wait for me. There are plenty of people around here you can share your meal with, Arthur. Plenty."

You turned your attention back to Molly, flashing her a rueful grin with your hair covering your face but he definitely caught it.

The Irishwoman gave you a knowing smile, her voice full of mischief. "Oh, girl, there’s always someone around."

This is how it's gonna be huh?

His first instinct was to walk away, but no. Arthur wasn’t the type to run from problems. With one swift movement, he grabbed your arm and dragged you out and behind the tent, just past the tree line. He stared down at you, his expression a mix of annoyance and desperation.

"What the hell is that all about?! And you know I hate it when you go out alone-"

"I don’t care! I don’t care anymore!" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "I hate going out for some petty stuff too, which, by the way, I clearly asked you to get, and you forgot! I guess books are more important than me, huh?."

Arthur’s chest tightened. He rarely saw this side of you ever since you both got together, the frustration, the hurt, the coldness. "See, this is the problem," you continued, your voice rising. "When men find someone vulnerable enough to control, to fix, they get bored. Then they move on, find someone else to repeat the same damn cycle. Am I right?"

His mouth went dry. The words cut deep. But what hurt him the most was the thought that maybe... maybe you believed that.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Three meals with you, a cup of coffee, that was it. Simple things that made him feel like you cared. That made him feel loved. But you didn’t... or did you?

The silence between you two was deafening as he tried to process what you said.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur started, his frustration mounting. "See, this is why I don’t like when you and Molly-"

"Oh, no, no, no. Shush. Don’t you dare," you interrupted, your voice sharp, but there was a deep hurt behind it. "She’s always been right, Arthur. I was the dumb one. I’ve been working my ass off for you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye this morning, huh?"

Arthur froze, guilt beginning to gnaw at him. He wasn’t ready for this. "You know, I had a chance to leave this life, you know exactly who I’m talking about. But I didn’t. I chose you. But if I’m just gonna be sidelined like this? Nuh-uh. My ego doesn’t allow it. Nobody gets to disrespect me like that."

You took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "If you don’t want me anymore, then say it. Don’t play these stupid-ass games with me. I’m not Molly, not when it comes to this."

Arthur’s stomach dropped as the weight of your words settled in. He could feel the hurt radiating off of you, the betrayal that had built up. And now it made sense. Molly had probably warned you, just like she always did. He could almost hear her saying it a dozen times in the morning,

'Don’t let him treat you like that, they are all shit.'

"There is NOTHING like that, woman!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in frustration. "Is that what this is about? You’re ready to just forget, hell, even think like this over a misunderstanding?"

"Call it whatever you want," you replied coldly, not backing down. "But not gonna lie, the pattern makes sense now, Arthur."

He took a step back, trying to steady his breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Don’t say that... c’mon. You know it’s not true! She’s like a sister to me! For God’s sake, how can you even think--"

Without another word, you grabbed his satchel, the leather creaking in your grip, and flipped it upside down. A book slid out and thudded onto the ground.

Arthur froze, his eyes darting to the book, then to the scattered contents of his bag. He watched, his heart sinking, as you threw the satchel aside in disgust. "Bravo," you muttered, the bitterness in your voice sharper than a knife.

"Don't even bother explaining. I’m tired." You began to walk away, but before you could get far, Arthur grabbed your wrist.

"Don't you dare, no way you’re... sleeping away from me." His voice started strong, then faltered into a desperate plea, but you didn’t turn around. With a sharp jerk, you freed your hand from his grasp and continued walking.

Arthur stood there for a moment, his breath heavy as he watched you leave. With a defeated sigh, he bent down to gather the scattered contents of his satchel. Tilly approached, offering to help, but he shrugged her off with a tired wave and handed the book over to Mary-Beth, who was standing a few feet away, her face filled with guilt and sadness. His hand lingered in his pocket for a moment, pulling out the cream he had meant to bring you, adding it to the pile with a sharp scoff.

His posture was slumped, his movements slow and burdened. He didn’t need to say anything, his body language alone was enough to tell Tilly, Mary-Beth, and anyone else watching that this sulking would last for days, and you... you weren’t someone who accepted apologies easily.

❀˖°

And that’s exactly what happened. Arthur waited every day, hoping you would just come, sit with him, and listen. He longed for you to let him explain, to sort things out, so he could hold you in his arms again. Dammit. He missed you at night like a child misses their favorite doll.

But you weren’t just any doll.

You were his doll.

And when it came to you, he was nothing but a man-child.

Everybody knew his routine, the gang enforcer's routine. Simple, predictable. Come back, chat a little, handle his business, talk and eat with you, then the tent flaps closed, just the two of you, a world away from the chaos of the camp.

But now?

Come back, brood in one corner, pace to another, sleep with the flaps wide open.

Arthur’s mood soured every time he saw you doing something that wasn’t just being with him. Chores, errands, anything that took you away, even for a moment, made him restless, agitated. He needed you with him, in the tent, with the flaps closed, where he could hold you, even if it was just in the silence of the night.

Every night, he asked you to come with him. But you ignored him. Yet, he kept asking, unable to stop the desperate hope that you’d return, that you’d see it the way he did.

"Damnit. Damn stubborn ass woman." He grumbled for what? The millionth time? Sighing he petted his horse as it trotted at a leisurely pace, just a few meters from camp. How the hell had it all gone so bad? What was even the point anymore? Are you happy now?

His horse huffed as if sensing his despair, nudging him gently, but Arthur barely acknowledged it. The familiar sound of the camp in the distance only served to remind him that nothing was the same anymore, not the meals, not the quiet talks, and certainly not the comfort of his cot. That's it. This ends tonight.

He is going to carry you over his shoulder if that takes you to talk to him. To hell with your protests and stubbornness.

You were crouched down, sorting through vegetables with Abigail, your hands busy with the task at hand.

It wasn’t long before you saw Molly moving quietly, eyes darting back and forth, heading toward the girls' area.

You knew Molly. You had spent enough time with her to understand that when her instincts kicked in, she often acted before she thought. There was an impulsive streak in her, a tendency to let her emotions guide her steps, and that could be dangerous. Especially now, when tensions were already high.

Without much thought, you excused yourself from Abigail, your voice quick and unsteady. “I’ll be right back.”

You left her with the vegetables and slipped away from the campfire, your steps light as you tried to stay out of sight. Moving quietly, you found a small, hidden spot behind a tent, where you could just make out the faint sounds of voices, though you couldn’t yet hear clearly what was being said. Your heart pounded in your chest.

"(Y/N) and I were so close, in fact, like sisters, but you ruined that too! I don’t know what you told her-" Mary-Beth’s voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual calm, polite tone she carried. There was raw emotion, maybe even a hint of fear, but more than that, it sounded like heartbreak.

"You did it! Just like you're trying to ruin my relationship with Dutch."

"Are you in your senses, Ms. Molly?!" Mary-Beth gasped, trying to defend herself. "How can you even think that?!"

The past few days, you couldn’t help but notice her glances at you, brief but meaningful. It was as if she was caught between wanting to reach out and not knowing if you’d welcome her presence. Her eyes would meet yours across the camp, filled with a mixture of concern and hesitation, as if she longed to approach, to console you, but the fear of intruding, of making things worse, kept her frozen in place.

You understood her hesitation. She was a kind soul, someone who cared deeply for those she loved, and in these tense moments, you knew she wasn’t sure how to navigate the space between you both. And neither did you try to clear the air.

"You and your pretty face are going to be your downfa-"

"Molly, enough." You stepped in, your voice firm. Molly turned to you, arms crossed over her chest, her face filled with frustration.

"(Y/N), don’t tell me you’re under her spell too, for God’s sake. She needs to get a reality check-"

"Molly," you interjected, stepping forward and gently taking hold of her arms. You guided her a few steps away from Mary-Beth, the tension between them thick. "Let me handle it, alright?"

"Don’t pity her, let me make that clear. Otherwise, you’ll be the one regretting it." Molly threw one last angry glance at Mary-Beth, shaking her head before storming off, muttering under her breath.

You stood there, a heavy sigh escaping you as you rubbed your forehead, watching Molly retreat. Turning back to Mary-Beth, who sat on the ground, you softened your expression. "I apologize on her behalf..." You couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation. You knew you’d have to work hard to get Molly to let go of her anger, but that's for later.

"It's... alright, (Y/N)." Her voice croaked, and you didn’t miss the tremble in it, nor the quiet tears she tried to hide. Your gaze shifted to the book resting on the makeshift table in the corner. The one she had requested. You swallowed hard, a knot forming in your throat.

"You’re not reading it?" you asked, your voice gentle.

She looked up at you, shaking her head slowly. You could see the weight of her emotions pressing down on her, and it hurt to see her like this.

You walked over, picked up the book, and sat beside her. "Why not?" you asked softly. It caught her off guard, and for a moment, her eyes softened. She hesitated before returning the smile, albeit faintly, her sadness still lingering behind it.

"I am sorry... (Y/N), if you... if you misunderstood my actions, but I swear it’s nothing. There’s nobody else, except Mr. Morgan that we feel comfortable enough to ask for things... but if you mind it, then we won’t--"

"No. No. You can ask without hesitation, and I am sorry. I was quick to jump to... conclusions," you interrupted, your voice soft with regret. You hugged her, and she gladly returned the embrace. The warmth of her arms around you soothed the tension in your chest.

You placed the book gently in her lap and shifted your body closer, not wanting to break the moment. "I just... y'know... when I love someone, I do it fully. And I don’t tolerate when that gets disrespected, y'know? That’s one thing I will never forgive." Your voice trembled slightly, the depth of your feelings evident. "But anyway, do read it, and then we’ll have a chat about it. You know I love hearing you yap about your books more than reading them myself."

She chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of her old self, and you watched her face brighten as she held the book. You stood up, feeling a sense of relief, but also a lingering desire to stay.

"Definitely. But for now, I must go work too, don’t want Susan to bury me alive."

"You better." As you were making your way back to the kitchen wagon, a figure stepped in your way.

"Am I forgiven too?" His voice was teasing, but his expression was genuine. You deadpanned, folding your arms.

"Ummmm... let me think about it," you replied with a mock thoughtful expression, your gaze narrowing slightly.

He mirrored your posture, folding his arms with a smirk. "Not fair, woman. Not fair."

"I never said I was." You gave him a pointed look before turning to walk past him.

As you continued your walk back to the kitchen wagon, you felt a lightness in the air, a shift that felt... right. Arthur, still a few steps behind you, watched you quietly with an almost childish pout. There was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that told you he was waiting, waiting for you to acknowledge it all, to say what neither of you had dared to say yet.

You stopped for a moment, as you placed the cutting board, and turned to face him. The sunlight caught the edges of his hair, giving him a softer, not to mention the dark circles, giving him a more vulnerable look than you’d seen before. There was no teasing now, no masks, just Arthur, looking at you like he was seeing you for the first time again.

"I’m sorry, too," you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. "For the things I said."

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don’t like it either. I swear, I’d rather fight a hundred men than have you angry at me. But..." His hand reached out hesitantly, as though unsure whether he had the right to touch you, to pull you close. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I apologize too...for making you feel that way. But I swear it wasn't in my intention."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words. It wasn’t the grand gestures or flowery promises that touched you. It was the simplicity of it, the honesty in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely let show. "Well then let me tell you that," you whispered back, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not going anywhere."

With a relieved exhale, Arthur stepped forward, his arms wrapping around you firmly, pulling you into his chest. It was as though all the tension from before melted away, and in its place, there was just the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against yours. "I love you," he murmured into your hair, the words so familiar now, but somehow more precious each time.

You nestled into his embrace, letting your worries fade for the moment, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. "I love you, too," you replied, your voice barely above a breath, but you meant it with everything you had.

"Y'know darlin'...I was very close to shootin' myself if I had to sleep on the cold bed any longer. It took strength to control myself and not drag you out-" You rolled your eyes and pulled away.

"Right, now go away, I have work to do."

"Absolutely not. To hell with these damn chores. You are coming with me."

You shot him a skeptical glance, hands on your hips as you paused in your tracks. "Really?" you said, raising an eyebrow.

A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he stepped closer, his broad frame encroaching on your space. "What do you think, darlin'?" he teased, his hands coming up to cradle your face, nearly squishing it with playful force. He gave your head a gentle shake, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It’s been too damn long. You’ve had me sleeping like a corpse for days. You cruel woman."

You tried to hold back the laugh that bubbled up in your chest, but his determination was infectious "Fine," you muttered, giving in more to his presence than anything else. He grinned, his hands reaching for you, pulling you effortlessly toward the flap of his tent.

"Atta girl." His voice held a triumphant edge, but it was softened with affection.

And finally, after days, the enforcer's tent flaps were closed at night--and so was the distance between you two.

(AN: Req/asks closed for now, guys :/ do keep in mind ur ideas and send once I'll announce them open. But u can always send me ur thoughts or dm.)

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[hiitsm]

Beneath the Surface: The Fifth Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst, Hurt, Fluff & Smut is included in this Fifth Piece.

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Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

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As the clock neared 8 PM, you found yourself nervously pacing in your living room, glancing at the door every few seconds. The air was thick with anticipation, and your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. You had spent the entire afternoon trying to keep busy, tidying up your apartment and preparing yourself for the conversation you never thought you’d have.

When the doorbell finally rang, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You opened the door to find Alexia standing there, looking as nervous and unsure as you felt. She wore a simple outfit, jeans and a sweater, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that made her seem almost fragile.

"Hi," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly.

"Hi," you replied, stepping aside to let her in. The silence that followed was heavy, but you both knew that there was no turning back now.

You led her to the living room, where you both took a seat on the couch. The tension in the air was palpable, but you forced yourself to speak.

"Do you want something to drink? Water, tea, coffee?" you offered, trying to break the ice.

"Water would be nice, thank you," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stood up and quickly fetched a glass of water, handing it to her before sitting back down. You took a deep breath, deciding to address the elephant in the room.

"Alexia, why did you come here tonight?" you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and pain.

She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the glass. "I came because I owe you an explanation. And an apology," she began, her voice wavering. "I know I hurt you deeply, and I know that I can never undo the pain I caused. But I need you to understand why I did what I did."

You nodded, urging her to continue.

"When we were together, everything felt perfect. But as time went on, I started to feel like I was losing myself. The pressure of my career, the expectations, the constant travel – it all became too much. And instead of talking to you about it, I pulled away. I thought that if I distanced myself, it would somehow make things easier. But it only made things worse."

She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I wrote that letter because I was scared. Scared of facing you, scared of admitting my own vulnerabilities. I thought that by leaving, I was doing the right thing for both of us. But I was wrong. I see that now."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to her words. The pain of the past weeks and months came rushing back, but there was also a sense of relief. Finally, you were getting the answers you had been seeking.

"Alexia, you hurt me more than I can put into words. But I also understand that you were struggling," you said softly, your voice cracking with emotion. "I just wish you had talked to me instead of running away."

"I know," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I know I should have. And I'm so, so sorry for everything."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of her apology hung in the air, a fragile bridge between the past and the possibility of healing.

"Is there any chance we can start over? Even if it's just as friends?" she asked tentatively, her eyes pleading with yours.

You took a deep breath, considering her words. "I don't know, Alexia. It's going to take time for me to process everything. But I think we can try," you replied honestly. "I still care about you, and I think we both need to take this one step at a time."

She nodded, a small smile of hope appearing on her face. "Thank you. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

As the evening wore on, you found yourselves talking about everything: your past, your present, and the possibility of a future. It was a long and difficult conversation, but it was also a necessary one.

By the time Alexia left, there was a sense of tentative hope in the air. The road to healing would be long and arduous, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like it was possible.

As you closed the door behind her, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of optimism. The past would always be a part of you, but perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for a new beginning.

Hours passed, and as the clock struck midnight, you found yourself lying in bed, wide awake. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, and with it came the memory of how it all began.

It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant where you worked. You were rushing from table to table, balancing trays and taking orders, trying to keep up with the bustling crowd. That was when you noticed her , Alexia, sitting alone at a corner table. She looked slightly out of place, her casual attire contrasting with the more formal setting of the restaurant. But what caught your attention was the way she was watching you, her eyes following your every move.

When you finally had a moment to catch your breath, you approached her table. "Good evening. Can I get you something to start with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

She smiled, a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. "Just a glass of water for now, please," she said, her voice soft and melodic.

You nodded, hurrying to get her order. As the evening went on, you found yourself glancing in her direction more often than you intended. Each time, she was still watching you, her gaze never wavering. When your shift finally ended, you were surprised to see her still there, nursing a glass of water and watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks flush.

As you were about to leave, she stood up and approached you. "Hi, I'm Alexia," she said, extending her hand.

You took it, feeling a jolt of electricity at the contact. "Hi, I'm y/n," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I know this might sound strange, but would you like to come to my place? I know it's late, but I just feel this connection, and I'd love to get to know you better," she said, her eyes pleading with yours.

Something about her sincerity and the vulnerability in her eyes made you say yes. You followed her to her car, and before you knew it, you were at her apartment. The evening that followed was a blur of emotions and sensations. You talked for hours, sharing stories and dreams, discovering a deep and instant connection that felt almost magical.

As the night wore on, things began to heat up. One moment you were sitting on the couch, laughing at a shared joke, and the next, you were in each other's arms, lips locked in a passionate kiss. The intensity of the moment swept you both away, and you found yourselves in her bedroom, shedding clothes and inhibitions.

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in her arms, feeling a warmth and contentment you hadn't felt in a long time. Alexia was still asleep, her face relaxed and peaceful. You took a moment to just watch her, marveling at the beauty and serenity she exuded.

When she finally stirred and opened her eyes, she smiled at you, pulling you closer. "Good morning," she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

She held you for a long time, letting you cuddle up to her, her fingers gently stroking your hair. Eventually, she got up and made breakfast for you, the simple gesture filling you with a warmth that words couldn't describe.

As you sat at her kitchen table, eating the delicious meal she had prepared, she looked at you shyly. "Would you like to stay the day? We could go for a walk, maybe watch a movie later. I just don't want this to end," she said, her eyes hopeful.

You smiled, feeling the same way. "I'd love to," you replied, and the rest of the day passed in a blissful haze of companionship and growing affection.

Lying in bed, memories of Alexia flood your mind like a bittersweet movie. Despite the ache of her absence, you can't help but smile at the warmth those moments still bring you. The way she looked at you that first night at the restaurant, the instant connection you felt, it all feels so vivid, so real.

Emotions surge through you: longing, sadness, but also a flicker of hope. Maybe there's a chance for you both to start over, to heal together. The thought lingers as sleep slowly creeps in, but just as you're about to drift off, an overwhelming urge grips you.

You reach for your phone, hesitating only briefly before dialing her number. The phone rings, and then she picks up, her voice groggy with sleep. "Hello?"

"Alexia," you say softly, your voice betraying the emotions swirling inside you. "I miss you. I miss us."

There's a pause on the other end, and then you hear her exhale softly. "I miss you too, y/n," she replies quietly.

"I want to try again," you blurt out, your heart racing. "I want to see if we can make this work."

Another pause follows, pregnant with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. "I want that too," she finally says, her voice filled with a mix of relief and hesitation.

"Can we meet tomorrow?" you ask, hope bubbling up despite your nerves.

"Si," she answers without hesitation. "Si, let's meet tomorrow."

As you hang up the phone, a sense of peace settles over you. The road ahead won't be easy, and there are still many conversations to be had. But for the first time in a long while, you feel hopeful about the future, about the possibility of healing and starting anew with Alexia.

With that hope in your heart, you finally allow sleep to claim you, knowing that tomorrow will mark the beginning of a new chapter. A chapter filled with hope, forgiveness, and the promise of a love worth fighting for.

A chapter filled with picking up the final pieces of your broken heart.

[martuzzio]

HERMITCRAFT CATCHPHRASES

Hi, here's a (hopefully comprehensive) reference list of hermit catchphrases! The main goal here is to help writers and artists who (like me) might struggle with getting the characterization of some hermits right. Check out more info at the end of the post!

Note: this list updates a lot whenever I get new suggestions, which means reblogs aren't always fully accurate. I've linked this post to the top of my blog so it's easy to access the most recent version :)

Bdubs Shreep / uh-oh, gotta shreep! Crastle I love ya to death It’s gorgee Beyootiful Uh oh! Hell’s blazes! Hawsies YOU'LL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO! Shuddup! Judas priest! Bdubs' PERFECT REDSTONE!! What in the world! Holy cow! Nuh-uh! Hoimycraaaaaf Whimsy Trying my heart out

Beef EEskall That was my nickname in college! Nailed it! Dangit! Beefy Tunes Smelly Etho Opulent Etho? Oh, yeah, I own him Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Beef taught Etho about redstone Oh my goodness! Oh boy! What the heck Oh, baby! Quote unquote A ton of __

Cleo Class dismissed! I don’t need your stinky torches I will break your legs Trash is fish The answer to everything is leather pants Not because it’s the sand castle you deserve, but it’s the sand castle I need! What did you do, Joe…. It's FINE, everything's FINE Lovely Silly I mean... Not gonna lie... To be fair...

Cub DA CREAMADA CROP Alright guys Nice, nice Ladies and gentlemen / ladies and gentlemen, we got ‘em Eeeeasy money Beautiful, absolutely beautiful Mmmmmhmmmmmm Holy smokes Let's goooo! Sweet Oh, baby! Man, oh man Without further ado Peace out Cheers / cheers, man There's some heat coming off that thing

Doc Are you kidding me now? Alright guys Can’t touch this The G.O.A.T. Etho, get to the damn land man! It all started when Grian touched my redstone… Epic

Etho Uh-huh Like-a so Oh snap Get your snacks! Holy smokes! Take care, have a good day, bye bye Aww snappers! Aww yeah Von Sway I barely know ‘er! Speaking of llamas Bright blue bamboo E. to the T. to the your mum Beefaroni / Beefers Speaking of llamas… That’s what she said! Free glass Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Suckerrrr! Check it out

False Blimey Awh dude Frick False Supremacy Oh my goodness I don't know about you guys, but... Props to __ I'm not gonna lie...

Gem Gem is great Her [name] is [adjective]! Gem will __ ("Gem will watch Impulse") Perfect! Epic It's true, I swear! Not gonna lie... Oh gosh! Trust the process Nailed it!

Grian Hello! My name is Grian Good… byeeeee! Pesky bird My heart! My little heart! Mumbo Mumbo you are AFK Can we just agree that Mumbo loses? What in Queen Elizabeth’s shiny crown was that? It wasn't me, it was the man in the chicken costume! SaAaaaAaAnd Chobblesome SCAR NO— / NO SCAR— In theory… Electric boogalooo What does this button do? What on earth? This is in shambles Get outta here! Hear me out... We don't have __. What we DO have is __ Just straight up Without further ado Crack on Bingo bango Yes. 100%

Hypno Right, right Mmhmm You guys Dang guy

Impulse What’s goin on everyone? Shovel Shuffle BEHIND YOU GEM! Peeps Geez Let's goooo! Are you kidding me? Oh, man Now we're talkin'! Holy smokes Oh my gosh How cool is that? Jeez! Dang it! Buddy Presi (for present) You bet!

Iskall Hallo -skall ("richskall") That’s mega / that’s looking absolutely mega Omega “Excuse me? Sir?” __ of doom Okay, lol And I will see you dudes in the next episode I’ve had a realization Oh for goodness sake! It’s not fat, it’s big-boned Not gonna lie SaAaaaAaAnd Very fine Great success! Bird poop Bumbo Cactoni Do you even bust? / Do you even bust bro E Pag

Jevin Hypno smells! Oh my god Sucker What the heck Dude Man I swear

Joe Howdy y’all! That’s the Joe Hills difference! I will now say a poem of my own devising Core concept Keep adventurin’! Time skip! Who’s the guy who conquers death? That’s Joe Hills No not rage quitting I have to pick up my daughter from school or my wife will rage quit me! Grow Hills / Expand Joe Joepacity / Jhost

Keralis Look into my eyes and nothing but my eyes Wanna buy a book? Spank you very much Just sit back, relax, and enjoy Like this, like that I can see my house from here! Bubbles, Shashwammy, Sweetface, Princess Lookie lookie at my cookie / lookie lookie at my cookie… no, please don’t Like-a so I love your face I’m a real boy! I don’t k-nove (know) Not like this! Booshes Clever girl But first… lemme take a selfie I’m sinking… mayday mayday we’re sinking! Hallo yes dis is de German coast guard what are you sinking about? Scary harry larry I’m alayve! Breathtaking — no you’re breathtaking Mm-kay Oh behave I’m a simple man MeOOOow Welcome to my humble abod-ee Not too shabby My face! My palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti Tag 2 Booga Booga Stiffy nipples Batman! First I was afraid, I was petrified...

Mumbo I worry about myself sometimes I'm not really quite sure if I like that or not Yeah… yeah that's looking good… I guess… Dude! Chuffed to bits It’s a bit pants I’m such a spoon Oh my word It’s quite simple, really / it’s actually quite simple Bonkers I’ll catch you in the next one. See ya Off you pop Oh goodness me! Hermit challenges — initiation! All done and dusted To be frankly honest Seriously seriously cool Absolutely nuts I don’t even know what to say Iskall I feel sick Peace, love, and plants Moon’s big Mumbo for Mayor Quite simple

Pearl Lovely Bonkers At this point... Cheeky / you cheeky What's this? Mate

Ren Now we’re cooking with gas / we be cooking with gas today Ladies, get in line! / ladies, gentlemen, everybody get in line! You picking up what I’m putting down My dudes Y’know what I’m sayin’ Coming atcha frommmmmm Dude Coming from left, right, and center Greetings cyberdogs and citizens of the Interwebs, this is Ren-diggity-dog comin at ya in another episode from the Hermitcraft server (ey!) Automagically Jazztastic Janktastic Oh baby Like nobody’s business Looking absolutely magnificent Anyhoozle Twaddle Renstone The Octagon is a well-oiled machine! [word]-age [word]-ation [word]-i (to make things plural You love / hate to see it I'm just sayin' / if you know what I'm sayin' Professional __ Jazz Anyhoozle Exqueeze me? Freakin' Some serious __ What's happenin', baby? Chesticles

Scar Scarred for life Woah, what in the world! It’s gonna be am-ay-zing LOOK at the siiiiize of that Well, hello there my fellow miners and crafters, GoodTimesWithScar here. Welcome back to the wonderful world of Hermits and crafting Don’t forget to subscribe or you might just become scarrrred for life! Looking super fancy Let’s hit super fast build mode! Look at the size of that Appreciate ya Hotguy! Operation: Aquathunder! That’s what she said! Rapscallion You silly goose Oh, sweet baby Jellie! Bayum! / Bam! The bee's knees Easy peasy, orangey squeezy

Stress Are you havin’ a giggle? / are you takin the mic? Mate Oh my god / oh my gosh / oh my good gordons Gorgeous Plonker Geezer Ohhhhh nooooo! Yeeeesshhh I legged it Such a pro / I'm such a pro Proper __ Cheeky Bloke Thingamajig Ain't [word]-age [word]-ies

Tango Happy fun sauce -ificator, -inator, -ness, -tastic Skadoodle Fearsome bunny slippers Noob juice So here’s the deal Holding shift Shwoop Flim flam Poop came out Extra dumb with dumb sauce / __ of extra dumb Flee with extra flee! / fleeing with terror! Boom booms Gah! The dungeon is ready for its next victim Behold! Results may vary! I think my math is correct, but it’s been known to be wrong This is the worst timeline. I hate everything Big no! You— you freak of nature! Jerkface Jerkbutt Excellent How embarassing This is true Zombert Bits This I gotta see! Right in the face! [word] is happening Yeah baby! Stupid jerks Boop This is the best / worst thing ever! Niner niner niner [general unintelligible noises]

TFC What in tarnation! Crap-tacular Humongous Butt-ugly Ugly as sin Oh, goody Ender-twits Bugger Oh, fart For crying out loud

Wels Words are hard If you will Super __

xB Aww yeah Mmkay Son of a biscuit Pretty frickin' __ Man Get frickin' wrecked! Chestacle Dang it Staaph it Oy vey Crap on a cracker Dang it, Bobby! Dang guy

Xisuma Oh goodness me Oh dangit Geez Peeps I’m such a derp Oh my days Chooturial Issooma Allo Woa’ah Brought (instead of bought) My dude Achacha

Zed Hello hello hello A-good a-bye Muckin' about I lied TaaaAAnnGoOOooooOOOo Hu-jah! Pretty darn __ Certainly Rubbish I'm [word]-ing [word] me [word]-iness What happens is... Get kersplatted! Epic Oh my goodness!

More Info

So I'm currently writing a HC fic and realized how little I know about some of the hermits (I unfortunately don't have time to watch all of them), which made it really difficult to depict them properly in my writing. I'm assuming at least some of you might also struggle with this, so, here we are!

If you know of a catchphrase from any hermit from any season, comment, reblog, send me a an ask or dm, dm me on discord, whatever works the best :D

Note: when I say "catchphrase," I mean anything a hermit repeats over an extended period of time. It can be something said during a single season (like "You'll speak when spoken to!" or "Hermit Challenges!"), or something that spans their entire careers (like "Aww snappers!" or "Plonker"). I'm not looking for one-off quotes that are never bought up again — there's some great sources (like @hermitcraft-correct-quotes) for that already :)

Sources (which will hopefully expand with time): This reddit post from four years ago This other reddit post also from four years ago Reddit from three years ago This cute diagram A more up to date source Another Xisuma's dictionary on his website HC character tv tropes page This incredible google doc

[shadowsndaisies]

iceman's final flight

WC: 3.3k

synopsis: ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the brain rot my friends is absolutely insane.

You never liked wearing your full-service dress uniform. The whites meant shipping off, and the blacks always seemed so morose. And wearing it for Tom Kazansky's funeral, well, it was difficult to even get it on. Honestly, if Jake hadn't knocked on your door, you're not sure you would've been able to do it.

But he did.

He stood, fully dressed, and didn't say anything when he saw you still in your pajamas. Simply squeezed into your barrack and directed you to the shower. When you came out, he had your service dress laid out on your bed. he waited, back turned while you put them on, and then sat you down and did your hair. You focused on him while he did. The careful movements, the gentle brushes. You knew he had a sister, but this was much more of Jake than of Hangman.

He didn't ask you about it, even though you know he probably wanted to. He knew that your dad had been close with Ice; they'd been in the same Top Gun class, and that was all he needed to know for now.

So he helped you get ready.

He gave you a protein bar because he knew you wouldn't eat anything otherwise; quite frankly, you weren't sure you could stomach even that, but he patiently waited, watching, making sure you ate something. The blank look in your eyes was alarming because in the years he'd known you now, he'd seen your eyes get glassy with nostalgia, sadness, and heartbreak. He's witnessed the fire from anger, ferocity, and challenge; he's melted at your softness, your light; and been in awe of your mischievous streak, and cunning mind. He's never seen this, though, the blank dis-attached expression.

He guided you to the atrium where the rest of the recalled aviators were meeting before you'd all participate in the procession to the burial site. Hand pressed to your back, as you seemed to disassociate with everything around you.

Your dad was already on site when you arrived. Staring at the photo of Ice, and while he looked every inch the PACFLEET Commander that he was, you much preferred the collection of photos that you had. Polaroids and film shots from you as a toddler on his shoulders or in his lap, the collection that grew with each of your father's deployments spent in his home, of barbecues and beach days. This man helped raise you. He filled in the role of father when yours was on a deployment. He signed permission slips and stayed up with you that first night of every deployment when you were too anxious to sleep.

Goose had been your godfather, the one who you would go to if something ever happened to Mav, and then Goose was the one who was gone. And Mav changed the papers. He changed it because how could he place that pressure on Carole when she's battling her heartbreak and raising Bradley? Ice and Sarah were the ones who would assume you if he took his last flight before you were old enough to take care of yourself.

When your dad spotted you, he waved you over. You felt Jake's hand at your back reassuringly before you left the rest of the team.

Approaching your dad, you notice who is next to him, and you have to fight to not break down at the sight of Aunt Sarah.

"Ma'am," your voice cracked as you stood at attention.

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you, "Stop, no," she corrected, arm grabbing you. "You're our girl, remember? I don't want Ma'am's, not from you, never from you," her whispers bring more tears to your eyes, and your vision swims as you try to breathe through it.

"Lieutenant Mitchell," you straighten at Cyclone's voice and turn to him. "A word before we begin," he calls, and you nod. "Apologies, Mrs. Kazansky, for the interruption.”

You squeeze Aunt Sarah's hand before walking over to the Vice Admiral, "Yes Sir," you respond, standing at attention.

"The Kazansky family has made a request," he begins, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Sir?" you ask.

"Mrs. Kazansky, has indicated that following the conclusion of TAPS, she would like the flag presented to her children," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was my understanding that you would be presenting the flag?" you finally ask, though your voice lacks its normal luster.

"In his instructions, Tom Kazansky requested that you present the flag to his family, Lieutenant," Cyclone says, and you freeze.

He did what?

Your eyes meet the Vice Admirals, and you're not sure how to react or what to say.

"Do you accept this final order from former PACFLEET Commandar Tom Kazansky, Lieutenant?" he presses when you stay silent too long.

"Sir, yes, Sir," you affirm.

"Good. You will honor his flag, Lieutenant, assume your position," he nods to the space where you assumed he would have been, but you nod your head in affirmation.

"Yes, Sir," you repeat.

He nods once more, a look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything else, instead walking away. You took a moment to breathe, then you turned and assumed the position across from Cyclone. Your eyes focused for a moment on the coffin in front of you. The resting place for the man who helped raise you. You swallowed the lump in your throat again and then assumed a position at attention. You made eye contact with your dad, who nodded at you with glassy eyes, with Natasha, who offered a sad smile in support, with Jake, whose expression was nearly unreadable but whose eyes were focused entirely on you, and finally with Bradley, who looked like he was in a similar boat, keeping back tears and swallowing the distress in his throat. He was so much bigger, so much older than when his mom passed, but his tells hadn't changed all that much. You focus on him for a moment, and despite the rift, the still uneven footing you both have with each other, there's something there in this moment, brought on by the man who loved you both the way he loved his own kids.

When TAPS began, a chill went down your spine, a finality of what it all meant settled over you, and a tear escaped. You sniffed but remained silent. Warlock was on your left, and Cyclone was across you. You followed the motions, folded the flag, and when the ends were tucked in, you approached Aunt Sarah. She nodded with a sad smile, and you continued, stopping beside Ryan and Elizabeth. Ryan and Elizabeth, who had been your younger siblings, who you love so much, and who you used to play with in their playpens. Ryan and Elizabeth who were both married with their own kids now. They looked so incredibly sad, but as they stared at you, Elizabeth started shaking her head like she couldn't believe this was happening. And when you held out your hands, flag proffered. Ryan's hands clenched, but he waited for Elizabeth. When he looked at you for help, you cast a sideways glance at Aunt Sarah, who was crying silently now.

"Lizzie," you whisper, and Ryan's eyes blow wide.

Talking was not a part of the process, especially informally, not when presenting honors to a grieving family, but this was your family, too.

"Lizzie, take the flag," you whisper again, and this time she meets your eyes, and you nod encouragingly at her. "Take the flag, kid," you repeat, and this time, she uses one hand to hold her brothers as she accepts the flag. Ryan's other hand supports it, and if you squeeze his hand gently as you hand it off, no one else needs to realize it except him.

You step back and salute the Kazansky family, and your father steps up to do his part. His wingman until the end, you watched, arm still raised, as your father approached the head of the casket and placed the aviation wings at the head, pounding it into the casket.

His final flight.

The sound of the pin pounded in place and echoed in your ears long after the jets of salute and the sound of TAPS.

When it was over, and the civilians began to walk away, you moved to fall in line with the aviators. A space had appeared beside Bradley and Hondo. You swallowed as you stepped into it. You could feel his eyes on you as you did.

When the call for dismissal was stated, your whole body seemed to sag a bit, tired, strung out, and heartbroken.

"(Y/n)-" Bradley's the one who said your name so softly, so broken, that you almost caved. You almost caved and launched yourself at him the way you would have in the past.

Almost.

Because Ryan and Elizabeth were walking straight up to you at the same time, calling you with a wavering, "Miss Mitchell," the tone nearly reminiscent of when you were kids.

"Kid Kazansky," you greet in kind, matching his tone.

"Is it bad form to hug you now?" Elizabeth asks though she doesn't really wait; instead, she lunges at you.

You rock back a bit and feel Bradley's arm steady you before it retreats.

"Never bad form for a Lizzie hug," you whisper, and she sobs a little.

"Bradley?" Ryan's surprise is evident as he stares at the man beside you. His eyes jumped at you and then Bradley like he couldn't figure out the puzzle before him, not that you blamed him; you were having a hard time, too.

"Wait, Brad?" Lizzie asks, turning to catch as Ryan and Brad shake hands.

"You two grew up," he notes sadly.

"Well you'd know-" you pinch at Lizzie's side, she had a smart mouth, something Ice and Sarah liked to blame on you, but now was not the time, and this was not the place.

Elizabeth huffed but stepped aside to stare at Bradley, and he stood and took it while Ryan stepped up and hugged you. If he squeezed tight, you squeezed back, and when he pulled back, you could see today's toll on him.

The Kazansky kids have been prepared for this day from the moment Ice was diagnosed, maybe even earlier when you consider all the deployments, but just because it was a possibility, the reality of it was painful to experience and to witness.

"Mom wants to know if you're able to come to dinner tonight, she said to add she's not afraid to pull the grieving widow card," Ryan asks, and you smile ruefully.

"I-" you begin, but Lizzie cuts in.

"We understand, though, if it won't work," she reassures you. "Dad mentioned some special detachment as the reason you were back for a bit," she admits.

"Time sensitive and top secret," Ryan supplies, and you frown at them.

"When'd you two get so smart?" you ask with a frown, bringing a small watery chuckle out of Aunt Sarah, who'd finally walked over herself.

"Probably around the same time you did, sweetheart," she says gently, taking your face in her hands.

"I am so proud of you," she begins, and the tears reappear in an instant.

"Aunt Sarah-" you try to stop her, all too aware of how the rest of the detachment is unabashed in witnessing this moment.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Lieutenant Mitchell, but I am even more proud of (Y/n)," she begins again. "And he was too. He was so, so proud of you. And folding the flag, it was unfair of him to ask that of you, but I am so proud of you and so grateful that it was you handing it off, holding his honor," she says, and you break.

A sob slips past your lips, and she pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, mindful of your cap. "I will see you at dinner, Lieutenant. It's perfectly alright if you're late. We've spent a lifetime on the Navy's clock; we can last another day," she says finally, and you nod. "Good, bring your dad," she adds as an afterthought.

"Yes, Aunt Sarah," you nod.

"Good girl," she smiles again, still holding your face, and when she lets go, she straightens your coat, just like she did after hugging you at your graduation. She finally looks down the line at the aviators standing nearby. She starts with Bradley, directly on your left, "You too Bradley Bradshaw, I expect to see you at dinner, and I demand one song, any song," she says forcefully, staring hard until he nods his affirmation at her, lips sealed shut.

She looks down the line; you know she recognizes Yale and Harvard from when you were in Top Gun originally; the two had become your guests for poker nights and barbecues. She turns back to you, "Bring all twelve of them," she finally decides, and you hear the intake of breath beside you.

"Aunt Sarah-" you begin.

"Let's teach them who he really was, huh?" she says softly, and you nod.

"Yes, Ma'am," you agree.

She smiles, tapping your cheek one last time before turning to her kids. Each loops an arm with her, and they walk back toward their cars. The second they're away, you sag fully, all but ripping your cap off, breathing too fast; you know you are.

Bradley reaches for you first, but you flinch away, and he freezes. Nat's calling your name, and the rest of the team is lining up around you protectively. The first set of eyes you meet are green. Jake. Slowly, he shows you his hands, and one starts at your shoulder, skims down your arm, and takes your hand, pulling it into his chest.

"C'mon, 'Thena," he whispers softly, "five senses," he adds, and you nod jerkily.

Five things you can see: green eyes, Jake's ribbons, Bradley still hovering beside you, the grass, the jet trail in the sky

four things you can touch: Jake's dress shirt, the cufflink of Jake's coat, his hand, which is holding yours in place, the chain of your dog tags around your neck.

Three things you can hear: distant chattering of all the funeral attendees, Jake's gentle affirmations, Hondo on the phone

Two things you can smell: Bradley's cologne, the fresh dirt, and topsoil.

One thing you can taste is blood from where you'd bitten your lip during the ceremony.

You take a staggering breath at the end and let go of Jake, who straightens beside you and waits for your next move. He allows you a moment to continue evening out your breathing.

"Two feet on the ground, right?" he asks.

"Copy, you," you confirm.

He nods, satisfied by your response.

You finally look around at how the team had shuffled to keep you out of sight from anyone else. Yale and Harvard are sending you concerned glances as they stand guard.

"I'm fine," you tell them, waving off the concern. "I'm fine, it was just too much, at once, but, I'm fine," you say, readjusting your cap back on your head.

"Maybe you should take a minute, Athena," Bradley cuts in.

"I said I'm fine," you negate.

"Just take a breath! Do your box breathing-"

"Box breathing? Are you serious Bradley?" your tone finally loses the flat edge it's had all morning, giving way to incredulity. To his credit, his eyes blew wide at it. "Box breathing hasn't worked since I started pulling Gs regularly," you scoff. "I said, I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine!" he argues, the two of you facing off across each other now.

"And how would you know?" you challenge, voice dropping back to a reasonable level, but suddenly so cold. "How could you possibly know what fine looks like for me now?"

He freezes again; it's a direct dig, more so than any of the wave-offs you've done when he tries to talk to you since you both got reassigned.

"If Athena says she's fine, then she's fine. I'd take her at her word any day," Harvard cuts in, and you look at your friend gratefully.

"Seconded, c'mon, we can give you a lift back to base," Yale agrees, and you nod.

You spare another glance back, focusing on Jake. He nods at you, though you can see the concern in his eyes, and you nod again, turning and walking in line with Harvard and Yale.

"My saviors," you whisper to them.

"It's a hard day, and the absolute least we could do," Harvard offers.

"You're getting softer with age, Brigham," you chirp, but there's no heat behind it.

"Speaking of soft," Yale hedges, and you side-eye Logan. "Hangman knows about your anxiety attacks?"

"Not only does he know, he knows how to talk you down," Harvard supplies.

"Don't," you warn them.

"Today is hard, we know. We know it's going to be hard for a long time," Harvard back peddles.

"We just… we wanna look out for you Athena, you always did for us, you still do," Yale clarifies. "Look, Hangman's a cocky bastard-"

"I believe Phoenix was the one to coin the term Texan Douchewad," Harvard supplies.

"But," Yale sends his WSO a look, "it's obvious, he's different with you."

You were content to ignore the prodding, but Harvard stopped, handing over the passenger seat door. He planed to open it for you but pauses and holds out a hand.

"Just hold on a second, please," Harvard asks when you start glaring at him. You huff but pause. "Look, today… today sucks, but seeing him help you makes him suck slightly less in my book. You're the only person he didn't ditch during the dogfights. We assumed he was brown-nosing because Mav's your dad, but obviously there's more there. Ice was… he was so much more than PACFLEET Commander to you, we know that. We've seen what you and he were like together. I consider myself really fucking lucky that you trusted us enough to share that shit with us, and clearly Hangman knows it too, but he hasn't made a single Nepo-Baby joke the entire detachment," he lines out, and when you drop his gaze, he sighs.

"Athena, we learned day fucking one at Top Gun that you are a force and a half, we have always got your back, we just… we need to know the play is, that's all," Yale tags on.

You lift your gaze and stare at the two; Brigham and Logan were the only Aviator/WSO team that got recalled. Payback and Fanboy hadn't worked together before, nor Phoenix and Bob, or even Fritz and Halo, just them. You're stuck on how well they know each other for a second, and you are so glad they got called back, too.

"The play.. the playbook is on fire," you admit, and they share a nervous glance. "It's in a fucking dumpster fire, with jet fuel poured on top," you tell them, and they wince. "But, the plan is we go back to base, we finish the day, we go to dinner. I'll probably cry my fucking eyes out, so hopefully, one of you will bring tissues, and then tomorrow we go back to work because Ice died, but the clock doesn't stop, and he'd be pissed if I let Jake or Bradley make Team Leader over me," you huff out.

It hurts so much because his phrasing would have been over my dead body will you let cocky aviators walk over you, but he is dead.

You just buried his body.

That doesn't change the point, Kiddo.

Your heart clenches at the response because it even sounds like Ice.

Ice cold, no mistakes, the voice continues.

"Ice cold, no mistakes," you repeat softly.

"Then that's the play," Brigham nods, finally opening the door for you.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891

[ghost-proofbaby]

EARLY MORNING (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: new routines are formed between you and eddie, and a code-word is formed for the bad days.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of financial struggles, mentions of weed, eddie is just having a rough time (just like me fr)

wc: 2k+

the full menu

Eddie doesn’t process he’s not the only one in the parking lot until your palm is smacking against his window.

He had been too wrapped up in his music he currently has blaring, the heavy bass and guitar riffs of For Whom The Bell Tolls shaking his van’s foundation as he let his eyes close for just a second. He wasn’t sleeping — he wishes he was sleeping. It was early, still four something in the morning, and he had hardly slept at all the night before. 

That slap of your hand against glass startles him, breaking whatever trance he had put himself under.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, blinking drearily as he rolls the window down and reaches to turn down the music, glaring at the image of you standing there with your arms crossed like a mother rearing up for a scolding, “Can’t a man have some relaxing alone time with Metallica before he slaves away for the siren?” 

Your demeanor cracks a bit, corners of your lips twitching to expose your amusement. You’d taught him that ridiculous joke — slaving away to the siren. That sly grin you were currently biting down on is the same one you wore when he’d been scolded for saying it in front of management.

“Dude, I could hear your music from across the parking lot. There’s nothing relaxing about it.”

Dude. He pretends like he won’t overthink that term, tries to focus on the endearment behind it rather than the sinking feeling in his gut. It’s hard to do that when you look so damn pretty, though. Bare faced, hair messily styled for the shift ahead of you two, those staple black jeans that always drags his jaw along the floors. 

“Shut up,” he doesn’t even have to ask, already leaning over to unlock his passenger door before you’ve started the journey around the front of the van. It’s a normal routine at this point for the two of you to sit in either his van or your Jeep together before opening. Enjoying a moment of silence with each other before you spend the next five hours and some change navigating the chaos that is the morning rush. Once you’re planted in the seat beside him, door securely shut and a shit-eating grin you don’t try to hide, he finally continues, “It’s relaxing to me. Not all of us start our day with that Taylor Swift shit.” 

Your grin widens, and so does the cavern in his heart that strangely resembles the shape of you, “You secretly love that Taylor Swift shit, don’t lie.” 

And you’re right. Of course you’re right, but for all the wrong reasons.

He loves it because you love it.

“I believe company policy is we can lie until we’ve had our first shot of espresso,” he grumbles, still trying to act unimpressed as he crosses his arms and shuffles deeper into his seat. He pinches his eyes back shut, this time just to avoid staring at you.

His mind and heart alike can’t take the way you look in the lavender dusk that still lingers in the parking lot, the soft light filtering through his van’s windshield. 

Metallica continues to play in the background, much lower than it was previously to your arrival. He’s content to sit here, the sweetness of your perfume hanging heavy in the air and just knowing your presence exists beside him now. To hear your breathing if he focuses hard enough. To listen for if you begin to pilfer through his glove box, to listen if you begin to tap along to any melodies on your knees. Small things. Things you don’t think about, and things that occupy his mind in a suffocating fashion. They have for the last several months now; you’ve managed to occupy his mind quite consistently, even on his days off. If he’s given a day of leisure, all he can do is consider what you’re doing. If he’s scheduled a shift without you, all he does is compare the other baristas to you. It’s poisonous. It spells out trouble. 

But in this moment, it more so whispers comfort. He knows there’s nearly thirty minutes until the key holder for the morning will arrive, and he lets himself lean into it. For the first time in nearly twenty four hours, sleep and rest alike are gunning for him with ease.

He’s got one foot in the door of falling asleep when you break the silence, “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“You just di-“ 

“Shut up,” you huff, and he cracks open an eye, “I just… Okay, you can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

That catches his attention. Both eyes are wide open now, boring into yours. 

“Well?” he hums. You’re nervous. And it’s cute, and it’s normal. These moments are always quiet between the two of you. He hardly even remembers how this first became the normal routine for you two, but he’s grateful. He looks forward to it so much that his mind has spent the last two weeks trying to formulate ways to extend the tradition to after your shifts together to finally solidify that offer of friendship he’d accepted so long ago, “Don’t just leave me hanging in anticipation, babe.” 

The nickname rolls off his tongue with no effort. It’s different — with other coworkers, with customers, with everyone. He hasn’t picked up the habit of dropping nicknames with these strangers, but he has with you.

You, who has coined him as dude. Again, he tries to not overthink it.

“Have you not been sleeping well?” you blurt out, starting to fidget with the edge of your shirt and not looking up at him, “I just- I’ve noticed you’ve been more tired this last week, and I get it — we’re all always tired in the morning. I mean, it’s early as fuck. But I just noticed you’ve been more quiet and you’ve got these bags under your eyes and you’ve been sneaking more cold brew shots and-“ 

You don’t take a single breath as you rattle off your list of observations, seemingly petrified to reveal to Eddie that you see him. You notice him. 

It’s an unfamiliar feeling; to know someone has a watchful eye on you and, furthermore, cares about the changes they pick up on. 

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever experienced it before. Or the warmth that floods his chest.

“Oh, hey,” he finally sits up. Your mouth is still moving, ready to continue on, “Hey, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out and lands on your knee. It effectively leaves both of you speechless. 

“I…” How does he tell you? How can he best reveal the truth? 

I am tired. I’m not sleeping well. Bills are piling up and life is kind of shitty right now, and nothing really makes sense. Except you. You make sense, by some odd chance. You make it better.

“I’ve just had a lot of trouble sleeping recently. Don’t worry about me so much,” he settles on instead, the only words not too heavy to force out of his mouth. 

His hand is still on your knee. 

And suddenly, your hand comes down over his hand, palm a few degrees cooler than his own knuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That… that doesn’t help, but it sucks and I’m sorry. And if I can help in any way… just say the word.”

The word — what is the word? He wishes he knew it. He’d blurt it out in a heartbeat. 

His hand squeezes your knee, and in sync, your fingers return the gesture to the top of his hand. 

It’d just been a lot, recently. He’s tried to take some of the burden off of Wayne at home, he’d been looking into taking night classes at the community college back in Hawkins, he’d been considering a second job to help claw their way out of the current sea of debt they were drowning in. He was always in his head, he was having nightmares when he’d try to get to bed at a decent time. Panic attacks were occurring that even the weed couldn’t take the edge off. Questions of his future, questions of his worthiness of the people in his life — they’d all started to haunt the quiet corners of his room in the middle of the night. 

But they didn’t haunt these roads, this parking lot, this time spent with you. You’d enter his line of sight, and it all just shuts off.

“Is everything okay at home?” you gently press at his silence, eyes flickering up at him for only a moment before a finger mindlessly traces over one of his rings. 

No. “It’s… fine.” 

Last night, he’d nearly put a hole in the wall before he’d settled to curling into the center of his mattress until his knees and chest were familiar companions. Until the tears he’d tried to ignore turned into silent sobs and he’d eventually cried himself to sleep a mere hour before he needed to be awake again for work. 

“Just say the word,” you repeat yourself. He wants you to look at him again; it’s easier to breathe with your eyes on his, “Say the word, and… Fuck, I don’t know. We can both call out, just take a nap in the back of your shitty van.” 

And oh, he smiles at that. The thought of the two of you in the back of his shitty van, as you had so lovingly called it. He thinks if you two did that, he might just sleep well for the first time in weeks.

“We’re already here,” he shrugs and finally lifts his hand, patting at your jeans before he entirely retracts his touch. He tries to not ponder on the falter of your own hand, the way you had hesitated in letting him pull away, “But, for future reference, what is the word?” 

“Huh?”

“The word. What’s our code word for… just saying fuck it and taking a day for ourselves,” he explains. 

He hopes he isn’t overstepping a boundary. He hopes you weren’t just being polite.

You smile softly this time, something genuine shining through as you think for a minute before looking at him. This time, your gaze doesn’t falter as you whisper, “Mordor.” 

He can’t help it, he snorts. “Mordor? Have you even read Lord of the Rings?” 

“Nope,” you shake your head, still focused on him, still encouraging the air to enter his lungs finally and not even knowing it, “But I saw your copy on the back desk. Maybe that can be one of our fuck it activities — you read it to me or something. Make me into a nerd.” 

That imagery gets to him. Nearly makes him tear up. You and him, in the back of his van, your head on his chest as he reads his favorite book to you. He nearly screams mordor right then and there. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, and that’s probably not what you meant, but he wants it. With each passing day that he spends around you, he finds himself wanting things like that more and more. 

You treat him differently than everyone else. You don’t climb into the car of the other openers, you don’t seem to let that painfully polite guard down with everyone else in the same fashion. Even Nicole had noticed it.

“She’s awfully soft for you,” she’d commented one morning as Eddie and her had been left alone as you went to the back to clean dishes before the store was open, “Out of all the people she could’ve gone mushy for, it’s you. Can’t figure out why for the life of me.”

He couldn’t either. But your tenderness you'd extended so easily to him fuels him, makes him yearn for it when you’re not around, makes him think maybe there’s a bigger reason for all of it. Or maybe, that’s just what friends are for.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer one of these days,” Eddie finally muses, leaning his head back and trying to smile with the same type of softness you offer him. Tries to make sure you know it goes both ways. Tries to communicate the fact that one of these days might just come sooner than either of you expect.

Your smile tells him the message is well received.

taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @josephquinnsfreckles @kimmi-kat @thisisktrying @corrcdedcoffin @rip-quizilla @euphoric-rush @eddiemunson95 @kennedy-brooke @mmunson86 @siriuslysmoking @chrissymjstan @live-love-be-unique @chaoticgood-munson @micheledawn1975 @daydreaminglisa @mrsjellymunson @emma77645 @blushingquincy @shadows-echoes @chickennug90 @coley0823 @munson-blurbs @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @masochisticlion @hexqueensupreme @capricornrisingsstuff @nix-rose @oeuryale @renaissan-vvitch @corpse-bridex @water-loos @aropodcastfuck @winchester-angel @vivacioussaint @chaussetteblanche @kirisuteg0men @saltmannequin

taglist is now closed.

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 2

“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”

“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.

He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.

She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”

“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.

“Explain.”

“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”

“The one that was bumming you out?”

“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”

“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.

“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”

“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”

“Okay so, guy lost his job.”

“Quit, quit his job.”

“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.

“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”

“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.

“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”

“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.

“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”

“I mean—”

“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.

“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”

“Never a good sign”

“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.

He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.

“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”

“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”

He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.

Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.

“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”

“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.

“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.

“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”

“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”

“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.

“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”

“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.  

Part 4

[hinatiny]

trivial things ੈ✩‧₊˚ kuroo tetsuro

kuroo is there with you through thick and thin, for everything between the worst of your days to painting your nails.

w.c: 0.8k

kuroo likes to help you.

the silence you share with him in the space of your bedroom is of the comfortable type—soothing, anchoring your mind to a plane of reality, not in the need of breaking.

your carpet doesn’t do much to soften your seats on the floor, and you’re sure both your and his spine will feel like a disaster within an hour or so. you don’t care about that really yet though.

you can’t care about it, you’re too busy focusing on not moving, to the point where you’re almost forgetting to breathe. you’ve curled a leg up, hugging it to your chest to keep it stable as kuroo, too, is busy focusing; his hands aren’t shaking, but his slight lack of inexperience with nail polish is visible as he tries to paint your toenails.

your feet are cold. just a bit wrinkly as well, the results of washing them after telling him there’s no way you’ll let him do your nails before that. he’d argued back, saying he’ll wash his hands later anyway, but you didn’t falter. thus you sit here with feet, cold, but not freezing at all; throughout the current process, his warm hands brush against your skin every now and then, and it’s oddly calming.

you glance away for a moment, at your own hands that he’d been taking care of just lately. the nails are red, alarmingly red. it’s a shade you didn’t even know you owned, let alone used, and you’re sure you’ll wipe it off before the next time you go out. for now, you’ll let it remain there, although it’s not the color you had initially planned on. “but red was our uniform color in high school!” was what had convinced you, along with a childish pout.

“woops, sorry.” you look back down. out of all the mistakes and accidental strokes kuroo has done so far, this fresh one is the worst. your toe looks like it’s screaming for help, and it somehow makes you feel like laughing. “i’ll fix that later.”

“i’ll forgive you if you let me do your nails later.”

he chuckles, “sure. what color are you planning?”

“black, i think it’ll look good on you,” you say after humming for a moment but he doesn’t seem as pleased with the suggestion, grimacing. “what?”

“that’s daichi’s team’s color.” “fukurodani?” “worse, karasuno. next color.”

you silently scoff, “per that logic, we should be dying your hair too.”

this brings out another chuckle from kuroo, “yeah? what color are we dying my hair then?”

“yellow.” “like kenma-yellow?” “no, it’s called kenma-yellow for a reason.” “are you saying i can’t pull off that color?” “kuroo, i hate to break this to you but you’d probably look like a chicken in that color.”

at any other time, he’d jokingly act offended. however, he can’t bring himself to do so when the image draws a hearty laugh from you as well, the sound only making him smile as he briefly glances up at you.

the laugh is soon muffled below that returning, comfortable silence again. it stays like that for a while, and you wouldn’t mind if it stayed like that the entire night either.

the only issue is the one sob you suddenly let out, one you’d been holding back after already having sobbed more than a just a few times only a short while ago. this time, kuroo sighs.

“i know i told you to cry it all out earlier,” he says without diverting his eyes from the work in progress. “but if your roommate comes in and sees you like this, she’s probably going to think i forced you into doing your nails.”

to his relief, between two more sobs you let out, cracks a small giggle out. “i’ll try to stop. sorry, i didn’t mean to cry again.”

kuroo doesn’t answer immediately. he spends another few moments on the very last nail left to paint, before eventually letting out a deep breath. he puts the brush back into the small bottle of polish, screws its cap shut and puts it aside.

his hand, as warm as it’s always been, finds the top of your head. your hair gathers in messes between his fingers as he ruffles it, but it’s gently done, so gently that you can’t complain like you otherwise would. for a few moments, it makes you forget that you have a whole world of stress and pressure spinning around you.

so you let it happen, finding solace in being able to let your walls down at last. you feel your eyes burn in threatening tears, but as he speaks, his reassurance tilts you closer towards a calm, “it’s okay. everything’s going to be alright.”

kuroo likes to help you, even if it’s through the most trivial ways — like visiting your home at two in the morning and painting your nails. he truly likes to help you and would probably do anything, as long as it meant hearing that laugh again, the one you let out when he soon adds,

“by the way, you weren’t serious about dying my hair, right?”

[starrystevie]

it’s a horribly normal sunday afternoon when everything changes between steve and eddie.

they’re in eddie’s van, windows down and hair flying, rays of a new spring sun warming their winter chilled skin as their arms dangle outside the open windows. some band that steve is sure he’s never heard of is playing loudly though the speakers and eddie looks over at steve with a grin.

the sun gives him a halo like it belongs there, the wind in his curls breaking up the beams to make it look like he’s flying, like hermes or apollo or some other greek god steve cant name while he’s enraptured with the view. eddie's smile crooks up, something mischievous, and he reaches down to grab a tape out of his collection.

“you know what we need?” eddie asks and steve holds his tongue to stop from saying something stupid like 'you'.

the music changes and it’s familiar and loud and, oh no. the crooning first notes of 'somebody to love' cuts into his heart in a way he never expected queen to. he feels like he’s bleeding out, watching eddie’s smile shift and change, playful and wide, and it breaks him. his face crumbles and morphs into something mean, trying to protect the remnants of his guard from crumbling along with it like ancient remains.

"turn that shit off." and steve’s always been a bit of a bitch, eager to fight with bared teeth and bleeding knuckles, but it's never been towards eddie. eddie with his halo of sun and eyes full of warmth and that smile that makes steve feel like he can fly. "now."

eddie scrambles. his hand darts out and fiddles with the volume knob, his smile cracking along the edges and getting soft and worried and steve is made only of anger, boiling over in a tirade. he keeps talking, barely processing what he's saying, but he sees it hurt eddie and that feels right and so fucking wrong all at the same time.

"who told you," he seethes out, hisses through his teeth like a goddamn snake. "it's all just a rumor so don't think for one second that it's true-''

the only person steve has even told is robin, one drunken night with their friends jack and captain morgan, secrets spilling out from them faster than they can make a new drink. he let it slip that he likes queen, relates to queen, and robin cocked her head in that sickeningly endearing way she does, cartoon lightbulb clicking on above her head.

"steve," she whispered, hand reaching out to cover his knee. it was a moment of surprising sobriety when their eyes met and steve felt something click into place for him, too.

"it's okay to be like freddie, right?" his voice was soft, broken and strained, watery smile covering up what little vulnerability he had left.

they danced until sunrise with queen blasting through the way too extravagant speaker system in the living room, screaming lyrics about not wanting to be born at all and asking for someone to find them somebody. they fell into a pile all breathless and dizzy and the relief that flooded steve's system was enough that he could drift into a deep sleep for the first time in a long time.

but now that memory feels tainted, destroyed, because he only told robin and that means she must have told eddie about being like freddie because no one else knew and he thought that robin was the one person he could trust but that seems not real anymore but it's robin and that is the only person who has stuck around but now there's eddie in the back of his mind grinning and that bleeds into him laughing which bleeds into him laughing at steve, turning on a song to let him know he's laughing at him for being like freddie, for being wrong, being wrong, being wrong-

"steve..."

"-it's not even true, anyone can like queen without being a fucking queer, you know? plenty of people like them and are happily married with their 2.5 kids and a goddamn picket fence-"

steve's still ranting when eddie pulls to the side of the road, gravel crunching under the tires, eyes soft and careful as they look over steve. his face feels hot and pinched with his vision blurred from unshed tears that he'll be damned to let fall. his hands are flying around aimlessly in the air as he spits out lie after lie, watching eddie sit and take it unflinchingly.

"steve," he says after a minute of listening, a gentle hand on his knee that steve wants to throw off of him, eager for something tangible to destroy. "stop for a second, please."

he wishes he could but his brain won't let him, so he pauses for a second and catches his breath before starting again and ignoring the way eddie rolls his eyes in disappointment. he rants and he vents and hurls harsh word after word until he can see that eddie's had enough. he wants to keep going, yelling until his throat is as raw as his heart feels, but there are arms wrapping around him and holding him intact so he doesn't fall apart all over the floormats.

"you're okay," steve registers what eddie's saying after a beat or two. he's whispering low into his ear in a repetitive mantra, over and over and over. "you're okay, it's okay. breathe."

it's only after they're both breathing normally that he pulls away.

"what was that about," eddie asks, and it's not accusatory but steve can't help but shy away from the easy way he's looking at him. the tears he had been so good about holding back fall down his cheeks, disloyal soldiers admitting defeat.

"i just-," he breathes out as he keeps his eyes trained to the gear shift. "i thought you knew something about... me."

he hears eddie sigh and steve latches onto it like it's a ray of sun in and of itself. "i know a lot of things about you, steve."

"yeah, but you can't know this one. not yet"

there's fingers tangling into his own and they feel nothing like nancy's or robin's or tracy's or melissa's or heather's and he relishes the calluses that bump into his own. steve doesn't want to look up, he can't look up, but he's a vine and eddie's the sun and he has to face him like it's his life's purpose to do so.

the halo is back around eddie's head again when he finally looks.

"i can wait, if you want me to."