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steveseddie · 2 months ago

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steddie | rating: e | wc: 8,6k | cw: none | tags: steve pov, getting together via lingerie, eddie in panties, blow jobs, anal fingering, thigh fucking, first kiss, yes in that order

for week 3 of @steddiesmuttyseptember using the prompt “lingerie”

click here to read on ao3

Steve watches as Eddie struggles to squeeze ketchup on his food. He’s squeezing the bottle with both hands, cursing under his breath when nothing comes out despite the cap being open.

“Fucking stupid useless piece of shit bottle!”

Steve snorts from across the Munson’s kitchen table. “Y’know, Eds? Maybe it’s not the bottle. Maybe it’s the universe’s way of saying you shouldn’t put ketchup on your eggs.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him over the bottle. “Don’t knock it ‘till you try it, eh Steve?”

He huffs. “I tried it, remember? You force-fed me eggs with ketchup two weeks ago,” Steve says in a bitchy tone and Eddie lets out a small tee-hee giggle at the reminder. “And it was fucking gross.”

With a shrug, Eddie says, “Maybe your palate isn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate such delicacies.”

“Not sophisticated-” Steve cuts himself off with a snort. “Dude, I ate caviar for the first time when I was six,” he snarks, kicking Eddie’s foot under the table.

The snobby comment makes Eddie let out a loud and full-bellied laugh but Steve doesn’t get a chance to bask in the warm feeling that spreads through him whenever he makes Eddie laugh like that because, in that moment, ketchup squirts from the bottle that Eddie’s hands are still wrapped around and it lands directly on Steve’s chest, leaving a big red sauce stain on his pristine yellow polo.

“Goddammit,” Steve curses, grabbing a handful of napkins and rubbing at the stain, but it’s pointless.

He looks up and finds Eddie staring at him like a deer caught in headlights— wide-eyed and mouth open, the offending bottle still in his hands.

“Um,” he clears his throat, smiling innocently, “whoops?”

Steve groans, balls up the napkins and throws them at Eddie’s face.

It hits him square on the forehead, leaving a tiny red sauce stain in the space between his eyebrows. “Hey! It wasn’t my fault!” Eddie protests. Steve stares pointedly at the bottle he’s holding. “Okay, I didn’t mean to!”

“That’s not gonna make this stain disappear, Eds,” Steve says, “or change the fact that I have to be at work in twenty minutes!”

“Hey, maybe no one will notice?” Steve raises an eyebrow at him—really? Eddie visibly winces. “Yeah, okay, you can borrow something from me and I’ll throw that in the washer later.”

Steve throws his head back with a groan, pushing himself up from the table. “Great.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with my clothes?” Eddie asks, affronted, but Steve has already started walking towards his room so his question goes unanswered.

Truth is there’s nothing wrong with Eddie’s clothes. Steve loves them. He loves how Eddie looks in them and he loves borrowing them— he loves seeing himself in Eddie’s clothes almost as much as he loves watching Eddie wear his. He just doesn’t love wearing them for work, his trademark skulls and devils always make the old ladies that visit Family Video clutch their pearls and give him nasty looks when he greets them.

But Steve can’t go a whole shift with a giant ketchup stain on his chest, so with a sigh, he heads to Eddie’s dresser where he knows he keeps his shirts and sets off to find the least offensive one for him to borrow.

He’s rummaging through band tees and Hellfire shirts when his fingers brush against something soft and lacey.

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, his fist closing around the piece of clothing and pulling it out from the drawer to inspect it. He’s never seen Eddie wear anything this soft or delicate, he’s all cotton and denim and leather—

And red lace panties apparently.

Steve’s eyes nearly bulge out from his head when he stares down at his hand and the piece of lingerie he just pulled from Eddie’s dresser.

Heat starts to build up in his cheeks the longer he holds them because here’s the thing: Steve knows Eddie is gay and he’s made it clear that he’s never been with a girl so these—the panties Steve is holding—can’t belong to anyone but him.

Which, holy shit.

Before he can stop himself, his brain conjures up the image of Eddie wearing these and Steve goes dizzy with how fast the blood that crept up to his cheeks rushes south, something hot and heavy settling on his lower stomach.

Then the bedroom door swings open abruptly and Steve jumps, nearly dropping the panties in surprise.

Eddie saunters in. “Did His Majesty find a shirt worthy of his- oh.”

He cuts himself off when he recognizes what Steve is holding in his hand, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly before he schools his features into something neutral.

Meanwhile, Steve looks like he just got caught red-handed. Which, he literally just did. “I wasn’t, um- I was just looking for a shirt that won’t make Mrs. Donovan accuse me of being a satanist again.”

“What would she think if she knew you’re wearing that?” Eddie jokes and it’s only because Steve knows him so well that he notices the way his voice wavers slightly and his laugh comes out a little shaky.

“I wouldn’t-” He holds his hands up, the panties still clutched between his fingers. He hands them over to Eddie like they’re burning him. “Uh, here.”

Eddie takes them, raising an eyebrow at Steve’s jittery behavior. “Dude, relax, don’t act like you haven’t seen your fair share of panties, King Steve.”

And he has just not—

“Not in my male friend’s drawers.”

Eddie visibly flinches, his mouth twisting like he tasted something sour. “Right,” he says, his voice clipped.

Well, shit.

Steve instantly tries to backtrack. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean- it’s just weird- fuck, not weird, that’s not- guys can own panties too- fuck conformity and all that shit, right? I mean, if they’re yours, um, are they? Yours?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him warily. “If I say yes, you promise not to be weird about it?”

“Of course, man!” Steve says, his voice an octave higher than usual. Damn it.

“Very convincing, Steve,” Eddie says with a snort but he must believe him at least a little because he tugs some of his hair in front of his face and quietly admits, “Uh, yeah, they’re- They’re mine.”

He’s being uncharacteristically shy about this, unlike the time Steve asked about the handkerchief that hangs from his jeans or the handcuffs that he keeps on his headboard, then again they were high when that happened and Steve wasn’t being so painfully awkward.

And okay, it’s not because he’s uncomfortable or anything- or well, not in the way Eddie thinks. More in the ‘his jeans feel suddenly tighter and he can’t wait until he can go home and jerk off’ way but he can’t tell Eddie that.

So he tries to prove to Eddie he’s not weirded out some other way.

“Well, they’re- they’re nice,” he says, hoping that his smile doesn’t look too strained. “I like the color.”

Eddie leers at him. “Oh-ho-ho, is Steve Harrington a red panties kind of guy?”

And he’s not, not really. He doesn’t have a preference but given how the thought of Eddie in red panties is clearly doing it for him, maybe he is. Or maybe it’s just because it’s Eddie.

He swallows a few times, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Nah, not like you are,” he says, his voice coming out a little shaky around the joke, but at least it makes Eddie laugh and it diffuses the tension between them a little bit.

“Fair enough.”

“So, um, where did you get them?”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Why? Looking for ideas for my birthday present?” He asks teasingly. Now that he knows Steve isn’t really weirded out, he seems intent on making him squirm as much as he can. “Women’s department at a shop in Indy. Told the woman at the register they were for my girlfriend,” he snorts, “you should’ve seen her, Stevie, she was scandalized.”

Steve chuckles at the thought of Eddie walking to the register and slapping the panties in front of some middle-aged woman, earning him the stink eye.

“Don’t know if she actually believed I have a girlfriend,” Eddie goes on, “she probably did. I think she would’ve sent me on my merry way if she knew they were for me. Maybe next time I’ll tell her they are just to ruffle her feathers.”

“Or to get banned from the store,” Steve replies with a chuckle. Then he asks, “Did you only go that one time?”

Eddie nods. “Haven’t been to Indy in a while and I guess I could find some here but- it’s different. In the city no one knows who I am and no one cares, but here? They all know who the Freak is and that he doesn’t have a girlfriend so if they saw me buying panties? It’ll surely get the gossip mill going,” he says, tone slightly bitter. “That’s also why I don’t wear them often, y’know? First of all, they’re a bitch to wash, Stevie, I’m telling you, but also I try to be careful, it only takes one asshole jock deciding to pant me for everyone in Hawkins to find out Eddie Munson likes to wear women’s underwear.”

Steve nods in understanding. Meanwhile, his lizard brain wonders if Eddie’s ever worn them while hanging out with him. He forces his mind out of the gutter so he can reassure Eddie.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he says, “I won’t say anything.”

Eddie gives him a soft amused look. “I know that, sweetheart.”

Steve, who nearly had his blush under control by now, can feel his cheeks pinking up again at the pet name. “Good, okay, um. Anyway, I should probably change and head out if I want to get to work on time.”

He blindly reaches into Eddie’s dresser, grabbing the first shirt he finds. “Yup, that’ll do,” he says without even looking at it. “I’m just gonna- yeah.”

He starts walking backward towards the bathroom. Eddie waves goodbye at him, the panties still clutched in his fingers. Steve’s eyes zero in on them and stay there for a little too long, resulting in him being so unaware of his surroundings that he bumps against the wall on his way out of the room.

Eddie watches all of this with curious eyes and Steve worries that he’ll see right through Steve’s blush and his nervous behavior. He holds Eddie’s borrowed shirt in front of his jeans as he exits the room just in case.

In the bathroom, he changes into said shirt. The whole time, he can’t stop thinking about the damn panties, his face burning.

He splashes water on it, trying to cool down.

“Get it together, Harrington,” he tells his flushed reflection in the mirror. His eyes dart down and he can’t help but groan at the shirt he blindly grabbed from Eddie’s dresser.

Not a skull and not a devil, but a metalhead from some band, raising both of his middle fingers and sticking his tongue out the way Eddie does when he throws up those damn devil horns of his.

“Fucking great.”

He hopes fucking Mrs. Donovan doesn’t come into Family Video looking for a movie to rent today.

***

“Earth to Steve?” Robin waves her hands in front of Steve’s face. “Hello?”

When that doesn’t snap Steve out of his thoughts, Robin flicks his forehead. “Ow! What the hell, dude?” He slaps her hand away, straightening up from where he was leaning on the counter, pretending to sort out tapes while actually staring into space, thoughts of Eddie swirling around in his head.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for like ten minutes!”

“Oh,” he hangs a hand from his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, Robs.”

She sighs then narrows her eyes at him. “Are you okay? You’re distracted today.”

“I’m not!”

“No? You just put Halloween in the romance pile, dingus,” she says, picking up the horror tape from said romance pile.

“Uh, well, some might consider Mike Myers being obsessed with this Laurie chic romantic?” Steve jokes.

Robin snorts but keeps staring at him with curious eyes. It reminds Steve of Eddie this morning and that reminds him of the panties which immediately has a blush creeping up on his face. Robin’s eyes narrow further until she’s basically squinting. It’s a good thing they can’t actually read each other’s thoughts the way they always joke about. That doesn’t mean Robin isn’t trying to do it with how hard she’s staring at him.

“I’m fine, Robs,” Steve says, squirming under her stare.

But just because she can’t read his mind doesn’t mean she can’t tell he’s lying. “Well, that’s convincing,” she snorts, “seriously, what’s happening in that big hairy head of yours?”

Well, Robin, turns out that our friend Eddie, who I have a raging gay crush on, happens to own a pair of red lace panties and now I can’t stop thinking about him wearing them!

Steve scrunches up his nose. “You don’t wanna know, Robs.”

His words don’t stop her from pushing. “Does it have anything to do with that awful thing you’re wearing? Seriously, Steve, the woman that was just here crossed herself and walked out as soon as she saw you.”

Steve looks down at the shirt, lips pursed. “I had to borrow this from Eddie-”

“Obviously.”

“-because he fucking squirted me with ketchup this morning.”

Robin scrunches up her nose. “Gross, dude, don’t say it like that, ew!”

Steve sniggers, bonking her head with one of the tapes. He really should go back to sorting them out and actually doing his job. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t own anything remotely normal.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, love the guy but his taste in clothes is bad with a capital B.”

At least his taste in panties is good, Steve thinks, then bites his tongue so hard he visibly winces.

Robin notices but luckily misinterprets it as Steve being offended on Eddie’s behalf. “You know I’m right! Just because you have a crush on him and drool over his chains and ripped jeans and cropped shirts on a daily basis doesn’t mean I’m not!”

“Hey!” Steve protests weakly. “I don’t drool.”

“Hm, yes you do and it’s embarrassing,” she says, ignoring Steve’s string of offended noises, “Speaking of Eddie! When are you going to tell him?”

“Tell him what?”

“That you want to boink him.”

“Boink?” Steve echoes, pulling a face. “No one fucking calls it that!”

Robin shrugs. “Whatever, so when?”

“I was thinking- never,” he says and Robin dramatically collapses on the counter, a few tapes toppling to the floor when she knocks them over with her bony elbows. He knows what comes next— they’ve been having this discussion since Steve confessed that he liked boys and that he liked Eddie a few weeks ago. She’ll insist that Steve should tell him, Steve will say no, she’ll ask why and it will spiral into her trying to convince Steve of all the reasons why he should. He doesn’t want to get into that right now, not after this morning. There’s only so much he can take so he doesn’t give her the chance to kickstart the argument, throwing her own question back at her, “When are you gonna tell Vickie?”

She jerks her head upright to glare at him. Steve just shrugs.

“Speaking of Vickie,” she says and Steve snorts at the way she blatantly ignores his question. “Her birthday is coming up and I want to get her something nice so I need you to take me to Indy this weekend.”

“And why would I do that?” Steve asks in a bitchy tone that they both know is only for show.

“Because you’re my best friend and my platonic soulmate and we’re bonded for life and you love me,” she says, batting her eyelashes at him, her hands held together in front of her in a pleading gesture.

Steve snorts. “Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll take you.”

She throws her arms up in celebration, a few more tapes toppling to the floor. Her nose scrunches up and she disappears behind the counter to pick them up.

When she pops back up, she waggles her eyebrows at Steve. “Maybe you can find something for Eddie too,” she says teasingly.

Eddie’s words from earlier, when Steve asked where he got the lingerie, ring in Steve’s ears— Why? Looking for ideas for my birthday present?

It makes the back of his neck feel like it’s one fire, and before Robin can ask what that’s about, he leans down to pick the tapes that fell on his side of the counter. “Hm, yeah, uh- maybe.”

Luckily Robin districts herself listing some of the things that Vickie might like and she doesn’t notice how strangled Steve’s voice comes out at the thought of getting Eddie some new panties.

Not that Steve will do it. He won’t obviously.

Who fucking does that?

***

Turns out Steve fucking does that.

He slips away while Robin is roaming around a bookstore in Indy— looking for some fantasy novel that she heard Vickie talk about. She barely listens to him when he says he’s going to find the bathroom, waving him off as she rattles whatever detail she can remember about the book to the frazzled teen working at the bookstore with the hope that she’ll know exactly what book Robin is talking about.

Steve does go looking for the bathroom but on his way back he walks past a window displaying lingerie. He pauses in front of it and his mouth goes dry as he pictures Eddie wearing the different sets of panties on display.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s walking into the store and picking the ones that caught his attention the most— a pair of black lace panties with a cute little pink bow.

The lady at the register raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him when he hands those over but luckily she doesn’t say anything. Most likely she thinks Steve is getting something for his girlfriend, but even if there’s no way for her to know that he’s actually buying them for his metalhead friend who Steve has a raging crush on, he still feels a blush creeping up his neck when she asks if he wants her to put it in a gift bag.

Steve says yes only to realize he will have to run to the car to drop it off before meeting up with Robin again, lest she sees it and starts questioning Steve about it, but at least when he gives it to Eddie it will look pretty.

Much like Eddie will in those panties.

The thought makes his blush spread to his ears and with a mumbled “thank you” he grabs the bag and runs out of there.

***

It’s not until a week later that Steve finally decides to give Eddie his gift. Mostly because he knows he can’t keep the bag hidden under his bed forever, it’s only a matter of time before Robin, one of the kids, or Eddie himself finds it and that’s something he doesn’t want to have to explain.

Not that he knows how he’ll explain to Eddie that he got him a pair of panties but whatever.

He’s still trying to figure that one out when he parks the Beemer in front of Eddie’s trailer. Wayne’s truck isn’t there, having already left for work, which Steve was counting on. There’s no way he’s doing this in front of Eddie’s uncle, he would die of embarrassment before Eddie even sees the gift. But even knowing that Wayne isn’t there does little to appease Steve’s nerves and he needs to take a few deep breaths before he exits the car, pink gift bag in hand.

“It’s just a gift,” Steve mutters to himself as he walks up the steps. “A friendly gift, you got Eddie something he likes, he’s not going to read into it.”

With a shaky hand, he knocks on the door.

“He doesn’t know you haven’t stopped thinking about the panties for a whole fucking week,” he goes on, running his free hand through his hair as he hears footsteps approaching through the thin walls of the trailer. “Or that you jerked off to the thought of him wearing them or that you wish you could see him in the ones you got for him!” He shakes his head with a nervous chuckle. “There’s no fucking need to make this weird, okay? Okay.”

The door swings open and Steve’s jaw snaps shut as Eddie’s head pops into view. “Stevie!” He says, his face breaking into a beaming smile that makes Steve’s heart stutter. “Hey!”

“H-hi, Eds,” he says, wiggling his fingers. He keeps his other hand behind his back, holding the bag out of view.

Eddie leans against the door frame, cocking his head. “What brings you here, buddy?”

“Um, well. I got you something.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkle. “A gift?” He gasps, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. He pokes his chest. “For moi?”

When Steve nods, Eddie makes grabby hands at him. “Gimme!”

“Um, can I come in first?”

“Well, duh!” Eddie says, stepping aside and sweeping his arm over the entrance with a flourish.

Steve steps in, and despite knowing Wayne is gone for the night, he starts walking towards Eddie’s room. It feels weird to give this gift to Eddie in the living room, considering what it is.

Because giving your friend a new set of panties because you haven’t stopped thinking about the ones he already owns is any less weird if you do it in the bedroom, Steve’s brain supplies.

Fuck, is he really doing this?

“Soooo,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder, trying to peek at the bag in his hands. “Whatcha got for me, Stevie?”

Yeah, he is. There’s no turning back now.

“Here,” Steve says, handing over the pink bag with shaky hands. Eddie snatches it greedily, momentarily distracted by the pink bow decorating it before he sticks his hand inside.

Steve holds his breath but resists the urge to shut his eyes, not wanting to miss Eddie’s reaction. That way he’ll be ready if Eddie looks like he wants to punch Steve or kick him out.

But when Eddie’s fingers brush the soft material and his expression changes, Steve doesn’t know what to brace himself for.

Eddie’s eyes are wide as he drags his hand out, black lace panties clutched in his fingers, and he gasps audibly when he sees them, letting the bag fall at his feet.

“S-Steve?” He asks, only slightly above a whisper. He’s not looking at Steve but staring down at the panties instead— a blush rapidly creeping on his cheeks.

Steve doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad and it makes him nervous. “I- I went shopping in Indy and I saw those and I thought- I thought I’d get them for you.”

Eddie’s big eyes blink up at him. “You thought you’d get me lingerie-”

His voice doesn’t betray anything except shock and Steve fidgets, hanging a hand from his neck. “Uh yeah? I’m sorry if that’s like, weird- fuck it’s weird, isn’t it? It’s just that I haven’t really stopped thinking about last week-”

Eddie’s eyes go wide.

Panicking, Steve starts rambling, hands on his hips as he paces back and forth. “You know, thinking about how you said you didn’t get the chance to- to buy these things here so I thought I’d get you those. They’re uh pretty, I thought you’d look-” Eddie’s eyes go impossibly wider at that. “Shit, not that I’ve thought about you wearing lingerie! Just- they’re nice! You’d look good in black, they’ll match your tattoos and they’ll look good with your skin and- and- fuck, okay, shit, maybe I thought about it- About you wearing those and- and the other ones. It’s- shit, it’s actually all I can think about,” he admits with a breathy chuckle. Eddie makes some sort of strangled noise. “Fuck, I’m gonna shut up now.”

Steve stares anxiously at Eddie, but he doesn’t say anything, just stares at him, wide-eyed and slacked-jawed.

Steve can’t help but squirm. “Can you- can you say something, Eddie, please?”

“You-” Eddie starts but has to stop to clear his throat when his voice comes out an octave higher. “You thought about me wearing panties?”

Steve hangs his head between his shoulders with a sigh. “Y-yeah,” he admits, “a lot.”

Eddie’s sharp inhale is followed by a muttered string of curses. “Shit, shit, shit. Holy shit.”

“Eddie, I’m sorry-”

“Did you-” Eddie pauses to lick his lips. “Did you do something about it?” He asks, gesturing vaguely but Steve knows what he means.

He whines, covering his face with his hands. “Yeah, I did. Fuck, Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Steve-”

“I know, I’m a terrible friend-”

“What? Dude, I’m not mad.”

Steve peeks at him through his fingers. “You’re- not?”

A laugh rushes from Eddie’s lips— hilarity mixed with disbelief. “Fuck no, sweetheart,” he says and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest at the pet name. “I thought you were weirded out last week! And then you show up here with lingerie for me and I thought that’s exactly what Steve Harrington would do to prove he’s not weirded out by his friend owning panties, y’know? But this? You- thinking about me like that? Fuck, Steve, I don’t think I’m reading this wrong but if I am don’t punch me for this but- do you want to see?”

“See what?” Steve asks dumbly.

“See me in these,” Eddie says, holding the panties up as he moves closer. He pitches his voice lower when he asks, “Do you wanna see me in these panties you got for me, sweetheart?”

“Eddie-” Steve whines. Only in his wildest dreams did he expect Eddie to offer to show him. “Fuck yeah, I do.”

Eddie’s mouth curls into a devilish grin. “Sit down, baby, I’ll be right back.”

Steve falls back on the bed like a puppet whose strings were cut and watches Eddie skip to the bathroom, looking at Steve over his shoulder like he can’t believe this is really happening.

Steve can’t believe it himself.

He sits there, waiting for Eddie, hands shaking with anticipation, warmth pooling at his stomach knowing what he’s about to see.

He takes a few deep, calming breaths and it’s in the middle of one of those that Eddie walks back into the room and all of Steve’s air leaves him in a whoosh.

All Steve can do is whisper out a strangled, “Fuck.”

Eddie leans on the doorway, playing with the hem of his Black Sabbath shirt, which ends just before his waist, giving Steve a perfect view of the lace black panties stretching over Eddie’s dick, the elastic digging into his hips.

“What do you think, Stevie?” Eddie asks coyly, lifting his shirt a little further up, allowing Steve’s gaze to travel over Eddie’s happy trail right to where it disappears enticingly under that little pink bow.

“Eddie, fuck, you look beautiful,” Steve says, breathlessly.

“Yeah?” Eddie bites his lip, walking towards the bed, the dark lace shifting over his dick. Steve can’t take his eyes off of it, especially when he ends up at eye level with it as Eddie moves closer. “You like them?”

He gulps audibly. “Fuck yeah, I do,” he says, squirming on the bed as his dick starts to fill up, pushing uncomfortably against his zipper. He grips the bed sheets that he’s sitting on, fighting the urge to reach out and touch.

“I like them too,” Eddie admits, his finger tracing the delicate lace pattern. Steve’s fingers itch to do the same. “They feel nice.”

“Can I-” Steve starts before he realizes what he’s saying and shuts up.

Eddie’s eyes twinkle. “Can you what, sweetheart?”

“Touch,” Steve says, “can I touch you, Eddie?”

Eddie nods eagerly, letting his hands fall to his sides and out of the way so Steve can touch him wherever he wants.

First, Steve puts his hands on Eddie’s hips, his thumbs toying with the waistband of his panties. “You’re right,” Steve pants, “they feel nice.”

“Mhm, you- uh, you can touch more, if you want. I like feeling your hands on me.”

“God, Eddie-” He moves his hands, stroking Eddie’s sides, under his shirt. “Can you take this off?”

Eddie’s response is to pull his shirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but the panties. Steve can’t stop himself from moving his hands over Eddie’s chest— tracing his tattoos and his scars, playing with his guitar pick necklace, following the trail of hair until he reaches the waistband of the panties and then dipping his fingers past the elastic just enough to tease him.

All the while Eddie is squirming under his touch, small breathless noises slipping past his lips with every brush of Steve’s fingers.

Under the panties, his cock is fully hard now, the lace stretching obscenely over his length. Slowly, so Eddie can stop him if he wants to, Steve moves his hand lower. Eddie holds his breath, watching with rapt attention as Steve’s fingers ghost over his dick, barely touching.

He whines, hips bucking forward. “Steve-”

The sound goes straight to Steve’s dick, fully hard now and still trapped in his jeans, but like hell if he’s going to stop paying attention to Eddie to relieve the pressure building inside him. It can wait— for now, he cups Eddie’s dick over his panties and squeezes.

Eddie makes a broken, surprised noise, his hands flying to his own hair and pulling at it just to have something to hold on to as Steve works his hand over his length repeatedly, stroking him. “Fuck, Steve, baby-” Eddie sobs, bucking his hips towards the insistent movement of Steve’s hand.

Steve glances up at him, hand still moving, and meets Eddie’s eyes. They’re nearly black and his lips are parted and red from Eddie biting them and there’s a flush spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. “God, Eddie, you’re gorgeous, did you know that?” He says, awed. Eddie makes a weak noise in the back of his throat. “So fucking pretty for me.”

The praise makes Eddie’s dick twitch, the tip leaking and leaving a damp spot on the panties.

Steve’s mouth waters. “Eddie-” He wants to lean in and taste him, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Luckily he doesn’t have to, Eddie sees right through him. “Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says, one of his hands moving to brush some of Steve’s hair away from his face. “Whatever you want.”

Once he’s given permission, Steve licks his lips and then he leans in, licking Eddie’s dick from base to tip, leaving a trail of spit over the black lace.

Eddie moans out, obscenely loud. Steve needs to hear that noise again, so he repeats what he did over and over.

“Holy shit, oh my god-” Eddie’s words trail off into a whine when Steve licks directly at the tip of his cock where it’s peeking out from the panties. Tasting Eddie for the first time has Steve shoving a hand between his own legs and squeezing his dick, desperate for some friction.

He gives a few more tentative kitten licks to the tip before fully wrapping his lips around the head and sucking.

“Motherfu- ah! Steve!” Eddie cries out, his knees buckling and Steve has to grab his hips to keep him on his feet.

“You okay?” Steve asks, letting Eddie’s dick fall from his lips, going back to the kitten licks and soft kisses to the tip.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Eddie says, breath stuttering from Steve’s mouth on him. “Or maybe- ah, maybe I already died and I’m in heaven.”

Steve snorts, but he blushes at the praise.

Eddie runs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “You’d make a pretty angel, Stevie, though what you’re doing to me right now is downright sinful.”

“Hm, do you want me to stop?” Steve asks, eyelashes fluttering.

“Fuck, no.”

“Good, because I don’t want to. I want to make you come,” he admits, looking at Eddie with hungry eyes.

“I- yeah, that’s not going to be a hard goal to achieve, Steve,” Eddie exhales on a chuckle.

“Come here,” Steve says, grabbing two handfuls of Eddie’s lace-covered ass and bringing him forward so he can get his mouth back on him. It might not be a proper blowjob but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He clearly enjoys the way Steve sucks at the tip, presses his tongue against the slit, mouthes at the rest of his dick over the panties. His hands eventually find Steve’s hair and he runs his fingers through the messy strands, encouragingly.

After a while, Eddie’s legs start to shake and Steve knows he won’t be able to hold himself up much longer, so with a final sloppy kiss to the head of his dick, he pushes Eddie back and stands up, disentangling Eddie’s fingers from his hair.

Eddie whines, hips stuttering and chasing after Steve’s mouth, but Steve doesn’t let him despair for long.

“Get on the bed,” he says, “I want you spread out on the bed for me.”

“Fuck, okay.”

He quickly does as he’s told, lying on his back on the bed. Steve’s hand darts between his legs again, cupping himself at the sight in front of him.

Eddie’s eyes follow his hand. “Think you should lose those jeans, big boy. The shirt too,” he suggests, “it’s only fair, considering I only have these panties on.”

And that’s some solid logic right there who is Steve to argue?

With one swift movement, he shrugs off his shirt, feeling Eddie’s eyes on him. Then he makes quick work of his button and zipper, letting his jeans pool at his ankles before stepping out of them.

“Oh,” Eddie gasps, and when Steve looks up, he finds him staring a hole into Steve’s boxers.

“What?”

“Nothing, just- you’re actually into this,” he says, gesturing at Steve’s crotch, the outline of his hard dick painstakingly obvious. “Into me.”

Steve snorts. “And you’re realizing that just now?”

“Dude, I told myself so many times there was no way-”

“Please don’t call me dude while I can still taste your dick in my mouth, Eddie,” Steve says, scrunching up his nose.

But Eddie ignores him and goes on, “-no way this could ever happen, it’s kinda hard to believe it.”

“Well, it is and I’ll prove it to you,” Steve says, climbing onto the bed and settling between Eddie’s legs. Now that he knows he’s allowed, he wastes no time going for what he wants, which is mouthing sloppily at Eddie’s dick, coating his panties with spit.

It makes Eddie squirm violently on the bed, gripping the bedsheets and letting out so many moans and curses.

When he pulls back to breathe, Steve can’t help but groan when he sees that the lace panties are basically see-through now from Steve’s spit and Eddie’s precum. “I think we might ruin your panties.”

Eddie snorts weakly. “I quite literally do not give a shit,” he says, waving a dismissive hand at Steve. “But you can take them off if you wanna.”

“No,” Steve says right away. He traces the lacey pattern with a featherlight touch. “I don’t, I like you in these.”

Eddie lets out a low groan. “Oh, fuck me.”

Steve’s finger freezes as he considers Eddie’s words. “Can I?”

“Huh?”

“Can I fuck you? Can I use my fingers?”

Eddie gapes at him. “You want to?” When Steve nods eagerly, he lets out a whoosh of air. “Holy shit, yeah, of course you can. There’s, uh, lube in the nightstand.”

That’s all Steve needs to scramble to the bedside table and grab the bottle of lube. He wastes no time coating his fingers, eager to get them inside Eddie but not wanting to rush and risk hurting him.

He considers taking the panties off for better access but there’s no need because Eddie drags his legs up until his knees are bent, his feet flat against the mattress, and then he snakes a hand between his legs, grabs hold of the panties and moves them to one side, exposing his hole.

“Oh my God,” Steve gasps, going dizzy with arousal.

“Steve,” Eddie whines when he doesn’t move. It snaps Steve out of it and he rubs his fingers together, warming up the lube, before he brings one finger to Eddie’s entrance so he can rub at the puckered skin before pushing it in. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, Steve-”

Eddie takes Steve’s first finger greedily and asks for a second one after Steve fucks him with it only a handful of times. Steve happily gives him a second finger and when he asks for a third, Steve gives him that too. He curls his fingers in a way that has Eddie jolting from pleasure and letting out the neediest of whines. Aiming for that spot, Steve fucks him with those three fingers until Eddie’s back is arching from the bed, an incessant string of praises and curses falling from his lips.

“God, Steve, so good, sweetheart, fucking me so good, fuck, I’m close-”

Steve drinks in every word, feels them go straight to his own dick, his lower belly simmering with arousal. His brain is foggy, but he does his best to pay attention to every detail of how Eddie moves and sounds, committing them to memory for when he’s alone.

There’s one thing he wants to see more than anything— Eddie coming for him. So he speeds up his pace, feeling the elastic of the panties dig into his wrist on every thrust. And because he can’t help himself, he also lowers his face so it’s lined up with Eddie’s dick, putting his mouth on him again, sucking enthusiastically at the head.

“Jesus, fuck! Stevie, oh God,” Eddie pants, nearly jumping off the bed when Steve adds his mouth back to the mix. He thrashes around on the bed as Steve finds a ruthless rhythm between his fingers and his mouth.

He keeps his eyes open and on Eddie, sensing how close he is and not wanting to miss any of it.

When Steve purposefully times a particular hard suck with his fingers hitting that spot inside him, it finally happens.

With a loud, strangled moan, Eddie comes. Hard. Steve has to pull off so he doesn’t choke and he only manages to swallow some of his cum, the last few spurts mixed with his spit dripping from his mouth and all over Eddie’s spent dick and the panties stretching over it. It’s fucking filthy and Steve has to sit back on his heels and squeeze his dick so he doesn’t come untouched.

His other hand is still inside Eddie, three fingers deep, and he can’t resist rubbing the pad of his thumb over Eddie’s hole where it’s stretched around Steve. The touch makes Eddie squirm and mewl, his dick giving a pathetic twitch.

Slowly, Steve withdraws his fingers and the elastic of the panties snaps back into place. Eddie lets out a soft whine at that.

Steve takes a moment to admire Eddie.

He’s a fucking mess— his hair fanned out against the bed, a flush spreading down to his chest, cum and spit and lube coating his panties. Steve feels the urge to mess him up even more. He wants to jerk himself off and come all over Eddie. At this point, it’ll take two or three strokes at best.

“Hey, uh,” Steve clears his throat, his voice rough from sucking Eddie off. “I’ve got some bad news.”

“Hm?” Even if Eddie acknowledges Steve he still seems out of it, it takes a few seconds for his cloudy eyes to find and focus on him. “What’s that?”

“Your panties are definitely ruined,” Steve announces regretfully.

Eddie snorts weakly. “So am I,” he says, a sort of disbelieving laugh tumbling from his lips. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steve.”

Steve lets out a pleased chuckle, warmth spreading through him at Eddie’s awed tone.

“Gimme a moment and I’ll return the favor, m’kay, sweetheart?” He tells Steve, smiling lazily.

It’s silly but Steve feels himself blush at the endearment. “Oh, you- uh, you don’t have to-”

Eddie scoffs. “You don’t have to, he says. Steve, I want to.”

A small needy noise slips past Steve’s lips. “What do you want?”

“Nu-uh, Stevie, it’s your turn. This is about what you want."

Steve gulps as he goes over every thought he’s had about Eddie since he realized he was into him, especially in the last week. “I- fuck, honestly? I really want to fuck you,” he says, watching Eddie’s eyes visibly darken at his words. “But I don’t think I’ll last long enough to make it good,” he admits sheepishly.

Eddie whispers a breathy, “Fuck.” He shakes his head in disbelief like he still can’t wrap his head around Steve being so turned on without either of them even touching his dick. “I- we can save that for next time.”

Steve’s breath catches— next time? Holy shit.

Eddie’s head lolls to the side. He looks at Steve with hazy eyes. “You could- uh, you could fuck my thighs,” he suggests almost shyly. “Y’know, if you want.”

Boy does he ever. “Eds,” Steve says, voice thick with lust. “Hell yeah, I want.”

Eddie flashes him a pleased grin, and then with renewed energy, he rolls over, settling on his hands and knees on the bed. Steve groans at the sight of Eddie’s ass framed by black lace.

“Like what you see?” Eddie asks, smirking at Steve over his shoulder and fucking- shaking his ass.

“You have no idea,” Steve breathes out.

“I have some idea,” Eddie says cheekily, staring pointedly at Steve’s crotch where his dick is tenting his boxers obscenely. “C’mon, let me see you, big boy.”

Feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Steve grabs the waistband of his boxers and pulls them down, his dick slapping against his stomach, hard as a rock.

Eddie noticeably swallows, cursing under his breath. “Shit, yeah, big boy is right.”

Steve smirks, wrapping his hand around his dick and giving it a few slow strokes. Eddie whines, fingers digging roughly on the bedsheets. Steve wonders if he’s thinking about replacing Steve’s hand with his or if he’d rather use his mouth. Next time— the words ring in Steve’s ears but he forces himself to focus on what he’s supposed to be doing now.

“Can I-” He trails off, gesturing at Eddie’s ass. Eddie nods eagerly.

Steve situates himself behind him, skin buzzing with arousal and anticipation. The back of Eddie’s thighs glisten with lube from Steve messily fingering him earlier, as well as the skin between his cheeks. Eyes glued to Eddie’s ass, Steve blindly reaches for the lube and spreads a fair amount over his dick before he grabs Eddie’s hips and lines it up with the space between his thighs.

“Ready?”

“Yeah, fuck my thighs, baby,” Eddie pants, hanging his head between his arms.

And Steve can’t hold himself back anymore, almost shaking with the need to come, so he finally slips his dick between Eddie’s thighs, moaning at how soft and warm and good it feels.

Steve whispers out a strangled, “Shit.”

He pauses for a moment, his hips flush against Eddie’s ass and the back of his thighs. He’s worried he’ll come too soon, just from how hot this is, so he takes deep slow breaths to calm himself down— in and out while his fingers trace the lacey outline of the panties, marvelling at the stark contrast between the dark fabric and Eddie’s pale skin, the way it matches the dragon tattoo on Eddie’s lower back.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Steve mutters before gripping Eddie’s hips with both hands again, keeping him in place as he pulls his own hips back until just the head of his dick is peeking between Eddie’s legs and then pushes forward again.

He sets a slow but steady rhythm after that, rocking his hips back and forth. It’s so good and Steve feels his dick steadily leaking precum, which along with the lube he coated himself with earlier, is making his cock slide more smoothly against the inside of Eddie’s thighs.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so good,” he groans, his fingers gripping Eddie’s hips harder and pulling him back to him so he meets Steve’s thrusts.

Eddie catches on, pushing back on his own at the same time he squeezes his thighs together.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve moans brokenly, his hips stuttering. “Keep doing that, Eddie, please.”

“As your Majesty commands,” Eddie says dorkily even if it comes out slightly strangled.

Steve doesn’t get to call him out on it because then he’s pressing his legs tightly around Steve’s cock, making it impossible to string words together, only high-pitched whines and needy whimpers leaving Steve’s lips.

“I swear to God,” Eddie pants, “I’m gonna come again just from those fucking- sounds you keep making.”

Steve groans loudly and hears Eddie let out a string of curses before he leans his weight on one hand so the other one can reach between his legs. Curious, Steve moves to bend over Eddie’s back, his arms wrapping around him, his chin pressing against the back of Eddie’s neck.

“H-hey,” Eddie says shakily, turning his head so he can smile at Steve far too sweet for what they’re doing right now.

“Hey,” Steve says back, kissing Eddie’s shoulder and laughing at the way Eddie yelps and jumps when Steve’s hand snakes under him to find that he’s hard again. “Let me.”

“Wait- fuck, it’s your- your turn-” But Eddie’s protest dies on his lips when Steve replaces his hand on his dick.

“My turn to pick what I want, yeah. And I want you to come again, Eds, with me this time. I’m close, babe,” Steve whispers against his ear as he starts rolling his hips again, fucking into Eddie’s thighs and stroking him at the same time.

Eddie lets out a strangled, “Fuck, sweetheart,” which Steve choruses with his own breathless curse, lips pressed against the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“God, Eddie, you feel amazing,” Steve moans, moving faster, both his hips and his hand on Eddie’s dick, his thumb smearing precum around the sensitive head.

“Gonna- fuck, Steve- gonna feel so much better when you fuck me,” Eddie says, panting heavily.

“God, shut up-” Steve whimpers when Eddie’s words send shocks of pleasure through his body in an almost painful way.

“Gonna ruin me even more then, sweetheart,” Eddie says, decidedly ignoring Steve and not shutting up. “Mark me up inside too, it’d be so easy to just, fuck- just move the panties to the side and slide in- ah, Steve-”

The rest of Eddie’s words die in his throat as pleasure builds up almost unbearably for the two of them. The only sounds that can be heard after that are the slapping of skin against skin as Steve continues to fuck Eddie’s thighs and the string of whines and choked-up noises spilling from both of their lips.

Eddie’s words echo in Steve’s mind— next time and when you fuck me and move the panties to the side and mark me up inside. It’s the last one that tips him over the edge or rather knowing that when he comes he’s going to mess Eddie up even more, ruin him.

With a cry of Eddie’s name, Steve comes, his eyes slipping shut as he pushes his cock between his legs one more time and spills between them.

A small whimpery, “fuck,” falls from Eddie’s lips as Steve’s cum drips down the inside of his thighs. It takes Steve jerking him once, twice for Eddie to start shaking as his own orgasm washes over him, coming all over the sheets.

Their arms and legs can’t possibly hold them up after that and they both flop gracelessly onto the very dirty mattress, their bodies sticking together with sweat and cum. It’s gross and disgusting— and also kind of perfect.

“God,” Eddie says with a laugh, his face smushed against the bed.

“Yup,” Steve agrees, draped over Eddie’s spine.

“No, like- I think I saw God. I died and I saw God and she said ‘it’s not your time yet, my child, you still need to be fucked by Steve Harrington’ and sent me back.”

Steve snorts at Eddie’s nonsense. “Well, we can’t afford to disappoint God,” he plays along.

“Hm, nope, but she’ll understand that I need some time to recover,” Eddie says, pulling a face, “And a shower, I’m sticky.”

“We both are.”

“Hm, wanna shower together?” Eddie asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve chuckles softly even if the idea sounds enticing. “I thought you said you needed time to recover.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t blow you in the shower,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“Christ,” Steve mutters. “As much as I want that, Eds, I don’t think I have another round in me.”

With a little royal twist of his hand, he says, “As His Majesty wishes.”

“Dork,” Steve says fondly. “Um, I do want something though.”

“Hm, what’s that? I told you, Stevie, anything you want.”

Steve keeps his voice only slightly above a whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

As soon as the words are out, Eddie cranes his neck trying to look at Steve and when that doesn’t work, he wiggles under his weight until he can roll over and Steve is lying on top of him. It’s even more gross this way, their fronts pressed together and Eddie’s ass resting on top of the wet spot on the bed, but Steve doesn’t care about any of that. He just wants to know what Eddie’s answer will be.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a bewildered smile. “Of course you can.”

With a smile of his own, Steve props himself up on his arms so his face is hovering over Eddie’s and he can take it in for a minute— the blush high in his cheeks, the way his eyes sparkle with excitement, the way he licks his lips in anticipation.

And then he can’t wait any longer, he swoops down and presses their lips together.

After everything they did today Steve can’t believe that this— his lips sliding against Eddie’s, the slightest hint of tongue, the way they’re both smiling into the kiss— is what has his insides melting into a puddle of goo. Then again, everything else could be excused as a ‘heat of the moment’ kind of thing, but not this.

“Hm, if I knew guys in panties did it for you, Stevie, I would’ve left mine lying around somewhere for you to find much sooner,” Eddie says once the kiss slows down naturally and they’re just resting their foreheads together and breathing each other’s air.

Steve chuckles. “It’s not just about the panties though, it’s, uh, it’s about you. I’d still be into you if I’d found Weird Al boxers in your dresser instead.”

Eddie cackles, his arms wrapping around Steve and trapping him against his chest. They really should clean up before they’re stuck together permanently. “I can’t say I own those but for you, Stevie, I’ll find some.”

“I think I’d prefer if you bought more panties,” Steve teases, his finger playing with the little pink bow just below Eddie’s navel.

“Whatever you want,” Eddie says once again. “I mean it.”

“What if I want you to be my boyfriend?” Steve asks a little shyly.

Eddie plants a sloppy kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Done.”

***

Next time Steve buys panties for Eddie— to make up for the ones he ruined— he brings him along and lets him pick.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” Steve tells him, echoing his words.

Steve knows he’ll like seeing Eddie in anything he picks—

And he’ll like it even more when he can take it off of him.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie smutty september #stranger things #stranger things fic #hi hello sorry i'm late again posting this but it got out of control whoops #eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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theskit · 1 year ago

Text

Stickers AU

Important!!!

Direct linking gets rid of the readmore cuts!

If you came here via direct link, or wish to use the direct links to another part of the story, and DO NOT want to spoil the surprise stickers, please click on my blog name to go to the actual post after using the link.

Part 9

《Prev Next》

Danny wasn't sure what he'd expected when he put Bludhaven into his phone's GPS Sunday evening, but finding out it was only 30 minutes away was still surprising. He'd somehow thought it was farther away than that.

Shrugging it off, Danny found an out of the way alley to go invisible and intangible for the short flight. He'd already picked out which of his stickers he would be gracing Nightwing with tonight, now the only thing would be finding him.

Taking a rather scenic route along the coast, Danny got some interesting pictures of the rocky coastline and the water. The light pollution was still pretty bad, but it was a little easier to see the stars outside the city limits.

Reaching Bludhaven, Danny flew around randomly for a while before hearing a shout. Going to investigate he saw three guys cornering a young lady in an alley. Just as he moved to intervene, Nightwing dropped down from above, landing between the men and the lady.

"Mind if I cut in?" He asked as he hit the closest guy with an escrima stick, sending him to the ground with a crackle of electricity as the lady turned and ran. "It's just shocking how quickly I can go through dance partners, sometimes."

Turning to the other two, Nightwing fluidly exchanged punches before grabbing one guy's arm and throwing him over his shoulder into a nearby trashcan, "Sorry, you've been canned for inappropriate behavior," he quipped cheerfully.

The last guy took the chance while Nightwing was busy to pull out a knife. Smoothly dodging the first few swipes, Nightwing flipped over the guy when he overextended himself with a lunge, landing with a crouch and a leg sweep, taking him to the ground too. "Let's not get swept away in all the excitement, now!" He tossed out as he made sure all three guys were secure before calling it in to the police for pickup.

Danny practically sparkled with glee. The cool entrance! The flashy moves! The puns! He just might have a new favorite hero! Well. After Robin, of course. Teen hero solidarity and all that.

Danny landed, waiting to make sure the escrima sticks were put away before approaching Nightwing. He *definitely* didn't want to get hit with those things. Getting electrocuted was *not* on the to-do list this evening, thank you!

Coming up behind Nightwing, just as he finished contacting the police Danny smacked a sticker to the small of his back, yelled "Tag!" and took off running.

It was only after hearing Nightwing shout in surprise and then call out after him, beginning to give chase, that Danny realized he had dropped his invisibility. Whoops. At least he was in his hoodie. It was still a little bloodstained from yesterday, but it wasn't really *that* noticeable. Neither of his parents had mentioned it, and Jazz only gave him a small, searching look before he held up his bandanged finger to show her it was no big deal. It was also the only hoodie he'd remembered to pack.

Nightwing ran after the surprisingly quick child, teenager? they were kind of short... "Hey, kid! Hold up a second!"

The kid laughed, "No can do! Sorry, Nightwing! I needed one last number for my vigilante bingo card and you were it!"

The kid, a boy going by the voice, was dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a slightly oversized hoodie with what looked concerningly like bloodstains at the side. He took a quick left into another alley, one Nightwing knew to be a dead end. Turning the corner as well, Nightwing slid to a stop, glancing around the empty alley. "Kid? Hey, it's ok, I just wanna talk." He called out, doing a quick check behind the dumpster, which was the only thing large enough in the alley to hide behind.

Nothing. Scratching his head, Nightwing looked around again in confusion. There wasn't even a fire escape down this way. Where did he go? And what did he mean by vigilante bingo?

Deciding to check in with the others, he called Tim, unsurprised when he heard the rapid-fire clack of a keyboard in the background when he answered. "Hey, Dick, what's up?"

"Hey, Baby Bird! So, I just had an interesting run-in with a disappearing kid. He mentioned something about vigilante bingo, and I wondered if any of you had as well?"

The keyboard noises stopped abruptly, "He spoke to you? You actually saw him?"

"Well, yeah? Chased him down a dead-end alley, but he went poof. Gone. No sign of him anywhere."

Tim sighed heavily, "Of course. Can you head in to the batcave? We could use some insight into this. So far he's gotten you, me, Batman, and Robin, but no one has gotten a good look at him."

Already heading to where he had his motorcycle stashed, Nightwing agreed, "Sure. You need 5 numbers for a bingo though, and he said I was the last. Heard anything from Hood?"

Tim groaned, "No. Of course he wouldn't tell us if something like this happened to him."

"No worries, Baby Bird. I'll check in with Hood first and then swing by the cave to debrief, how's that?" He asked, swinging a leg over the motorcycle and starting it up.

"That would be great, thanks. If you're the one asking, he might actually tell you what happened," Tim replied, relieved he wouldn't have to try getting information out of Jason himself.

Saying goodbye and then punching in another number, Nightwing revved the engine and took off for Gotham as he waited for Jason to pick up.

"What do you want, Dickiebird?"

Nightwing laughed, "What, no hello, how you doing?"

"Nope. I'm busy," Jason said with a grunt and what sounded like gunshots.

"Well, I had an interesting little encounter tonight, and I have it on good authority you might have had one too. With a certain disappearing boy? Want to meet up at Batburger, get something to eat and tell me about it?"

A few more gunshots echoed down the line before Jason answered, "Fine. I'll meet you at the usual place in an hour."

"Awesome, I'll see you there."

After ordering the food, Dick made his way up to the roof, "Hey there, Little Wing!"

Jason took off his helmet and smirked at him as he accepted his portion of the food. "So, where'd you get stickered, then?"

Dick stared at him in confusion, "Stickered? What?"

Jason frowned, "You said you had a run in with the kid. He came up behind me, scared the hell out of me by yelling 'boo', and slapped a sticker between my eyes when I turned around." Jason paused as he stuffed a few fries into his mouth, "Shorted out my helmet cameras too, though not permanently. Didn't get a good look at him, but he had a funky echo to his voice."

Dick shook his head a bit, "He came up behind me, gave me a smack on the back and yelled 'tag' before running into a dead-end alley with no way out and disappeared. Didn't notice a particular echo, but we were already in a kind of echoey alleyway."

Jason grinned and made a little circle motion with his hand, "Give us a twirl then, let's see."

Turning his back to Jason, Dick heard a loud laugh and a camera noise. It made him happy to hear Jason laugh, even if he *was* apparently the butt of a joke. "Okay, what happened? Why are you laughing?" He asked mock petulantly as he turned back around.

Jason just grinned and showed him his phone, "Kid gave you a tramp stamp, Dickiebird!"

Dick burst out laughing as he looked at the photo, Jason joining in as he wailed overdramatically, "Little Wing! I drove all over Bludhaven *and* Gotham, *and* just ordered food with that!"

Editing this: apparently only the bitchy mobile app has a tag limit. I mostly use mobile. Guess who get to be my guinea pigs on the next installment?? 😁

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort @bjurnberg @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @bianca-hooks123 @addie-lover-of-stories @pickleking8 @iconicanemone @sarina-elais @mur-ururu @sailor-goddess @dragonfirefeather @nutcase8691 @ravenpainter @liandrin @jaguarthecat @russetfur1128 @purefrickingspite @oakskull @vythika96 @molasses-being-slow @satisfactionbroughtmeback @serasvictoria02 @tkiesai @breesperez139 @dhampir-princess @redhoneysugarorange @gildedphoenix @iglowinggemma28 @f4nd0m-fun @therandomartmaker @mandyne-1001 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @solarisaetherlumine @zeldomnyo

#dpxdc #theskit writes #Stickers AU #danny makes his own stickers :3 #and now danny is running around gotham like a gremlin #with a pocket full of homemade stickers #whatever will he do with them? 😈#cries in both dialog and action scenes #whywhywhy are you so difficult to write?!?

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simplybakugou · 6 months ago

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omg I saw you post about wanting dad!Bakugo ideas and tbh I have so many but I don't wanna be greedy or overwhelming so here's one <3 Dad!Bakugo when you get caught sneaking out. He assumes the worst- thinking you were out drinking, partying, something like that (y/n would be like.. 14-16 or somethin, yknow?) But in reality you were just sneaking out to go to the 24/7 ramen place down the street with your secret partner who you haven't told your dad about bc they're the same gender as you <3 It's a lot, I completely understand if ya aren't interested in writing it <33 I just think it would be a really cute and emotional but also amusing and heartfelt idea that I would love to read but can't find the motivation to write </3 Love your work!!!!

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x fem!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; teeniest tiniest bit of angst; fluff; talks of being closeted ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3492

A/N: not me writing two works in 2024 back to back?! crazy omg. also i decided to make y/n bakugou’s s/o and not his child as that’s what i’m most comfortable writing about. hope that’s okay! also please feel free to send as many dad!bakugou ideas you want cause i’ve been wanting to write as many as i can. sorry if the ending is awkward i had some trouble finishing it :( tysm for requesting and i hope you enjoy :)

“Fuck,” Bakugou cursed to himself, setting the knife down and grabbing a paper towel to tend to the small cut he had just accidentally put onto his index finger. Your home was filled with a savory aroma as Bakugou’s cooked dinner as he did every night.

“Are you alright, Katsuki?” You asked from the dining room, averting your eyes from your laptop and peering into the kitchen to check on your husband.

“I’m fine. It’s just a small cut,” Bakugou called out, grabbing and applying a band-aid from the cabinet and onto his finger. Afterwards he went back to the task at hand. “Where’s Suki?”

“She’s upstairs, I think she’s showering. Apparently they were working on training their quirks in U.A. and she said she felt disgusting,” you responded, reverting your attention back to the work you had left on your laptop.

“So they’re already training their quirks? I need to train with her more then.” Bakugou turned the stove off as he moved tonight’s dinner to a singular dish. He went over to the dining table where you were seated to set the table.

You furrowed your brows at him. “Katsuki, she trains enough at U.A., not to mention you train with her after she comes back from school too. You’ll overwork her if you do even more than that.”

“She needs the training. She has to get stronger if she wants to get better.” Bakugou spoke to you while walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table as he placed all of his dishes down for his family to share. “She’s gonna get her provisional license soon and I don’t want her to fail like I fucking did.”

“I understand, but you’re being too hard on yourself and on her,” you said, shaking your head at your husband who has a tendency to overwork himself.

“If she’s gonna be the best, she has to be better than me. And I’m gonna make sure she’s a hundred times better than I ever was in U.A.,” Bakugou stated adamantly as he sat himself across from you.

You sighed, closing your laptop and setting it aside so you could eat. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Bakugou smirked as he was about to let out a snarky comment until Suki walked downstairs, a towel in hand as she was still drying her ash blonde.

You smiled at the sight of your daughter. “Suki! You’re just in time for dinner.”

Suki stopped as she took in her parents at the dining table and the giant spread of food Bakugou had prepared. “Oh, I thought I told you guys I wasn’t that hungry today…”

Bakugou whipped his head around to look at his daughter. “No you fucking didn’t.”

“Whoops,” Suki said, laughing cautiously as she rubbed the nape of her neck with her hand. “I’m kinda tired from all the training today so I think I’m just going to head to bed.”

You frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe eat just a little, sweetie.”

Suki shook her head. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.” She turned to her father. “And I’m sorry, Dad. I know you worked hard to make all of this.”

Bakugou sighed. “It’s fine. Pay me back with training right after you get back from school tomorrow.”

Suki winced but nodded reluctantly for her father’s sake. “Alright.” She turned around and made her way upstairs as she called out, “I’m going to bed. Good night!”

“Good night, sweetie!” You called back out to her. You averted your attention to the delicious spread in front of you, once again thankful for having a husband who could cook so well and alleviate you from the burden of having to do so.

“That shitty kid needs to eat more,” Bakugou grumbled, shoving his homemade meal into his mouth in the process. “She’s not gonna get stronger if she doesn’t eat well.”

“I agree with you there. At least with the eating more part.” You took a sip of water. “I hope she’s doing okay. You don’t think she’s overwhelmed at school and she’s just not telling us, right?”

“She’s fine, you’re worrying too fucking much, Y/N.” He glanced back at the stairs before eating again despite his statement. He didn’t want to say it aloud as he knew you would start freaking out but he was also concerned. Bakugou always wanted what’s best for his daughter who was inspired by her pro hero father to become a pro hero herself. When Suki expressed her interest in becoming a pro, Bakugou had to physically hold himself back in a way to not overwhelm her with how excited he was with the news. And you could see it yourself. You saw the way Bakugou perked up and seemed more enthusiastic, in his own way of course, every time Suki asked for training advice or told Bakugou about her day at school. You loved and admired their bond and how much closer they were getting the more she developed her quirk and skills.

You leaned back, patting your full stomach. “That was delicious, Katsu.” You stood up with your empty plate in one hand and patted his head with your other. Bakugou glared at you as he stood and cleared the table.

You went over to the sink to wash the dishes, intent on putting your share of the housework as Bakugou cooked only to be lightly pushed out of the way as Bakugou began to wash the dishes.

“Katsuki!” You exclaimed. “You always do this. I’m supposed to be the one who cleans up when you cook.”

You attempted to push him back but unsurprisingly he didn’t budge as he ignored you and continued to clean. “Oh, shut it. Just go finish your paperwork over there.”

“Fine,” you huffed as you sat back down at the dining table. Instead of finishing your paperwork you sat begrudgingly in your seat with your laptop in your lap as you waited for Bakugou so the two of you could go to bed together.

Thankfully with Bakugou being Bakugou, he was finished in no time and the two of you went upstairs to get some sleep.

As you were situating yourself in bed, Bakugou stood in front of Suki’s room. He knocked on her door and the absence of a response prompted Bakugou to open the door slowly. He poked his head in and saw Suki fast asleep with her lights still on. He smiled softly at the sight of his sleeping daughter and even though he knew he was tough on her, he knew she was working hard to prove to him how she will become an incredible hero.

“Katsuki, are you coming?” You called from your room.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou responded as he turned Suki’s light off and closed her door.

The alarm blaring from her phone jolted Suki awake. She quickly turned it off, hoping it didn’t wake her parents in the same manner as it did her. The time on her phone read 3:30 AM as Suki slipped out of bed. She quickly changed out of her pajamas and into sweatpants and a sweater and tiptoed out of her room.

Suki glanced over at yours and Bakugou’s bedroom door, thankful as it was closed shut. Sometimes Bakugou would sleep with the door cracked open slightly as he was convinced he would be able to hear anybody sneaking in if anyone attempted to rob your home or attack his family. You would call him crazy and usually waited for him to fall asleep before closing the door all the way in which Suki was ecstatic that you did so that day as well.

Suki made her way down to the front door and took her keys and her jacket and left her home. She grabbed her bicycle that was propped on the side of the house and began making her way down the road. She shivered as the cold winter air hit her face as she rode her bike, her eyes watering as they searched for one particular person.

Suki smiled once she spotted who she was meeting at 3:30 AM on a school night.

“Took you long enough!” Yui, Suki’s girlfriend, called out from her respective bike.

Suki grinned at her girlfriend and stopped her bike beside her. “Are you sure this place is open 24/7?”

Yui nodded. “They just opened up. Did your old man catch you?”

Suki shook her head. “I even skipped dinner and I’m starving now.”

Suki knew she wasn’t supposed to be out so late but she couldn’t help it; she missed her girlfriend. In addition, during the day she was busy at U.A. and afterwards she would train with her father. In the evening she’d have to keep up with her studies and her homework, making it almost impossible to spend time with her partner. Not to mention, Suki still hadn’t come out to you or Bakugou.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust either of you but there was a small, miniscule feeling Suki had in the back of her mind that made her fear your reactions to having a girlfriend. Thankfully, unlike Yui’s parents, you and Bakugou never mentioned or questioned if Suki had a boyfriend, but she knew Bakugou especially would disapprove of anything that would divert her attention from her training and studies.

“Come on, let’s go!” Yui exclaimed and the two girls continued down the road to the ramen shop.

Bakugou woke up feeling immobilized. In an attempt to go to the bathroom, Bakugou tried to get up but couldn’t do so as you were literally holding him down in your sleep. Your arm was wrapped around his torso, your leg over his thighs, and your cheek was pressed against his chest. In moments like these he blamed you for making him feel sore in the morning.

“Y/N,” Bakugou said softly as he quite literally peeled you off of his body. He was successful and he laughed once he heard you groaning in your sleep as you turned the other way.

Bakugou went to the bathroom and just as he was on his way back to his room to fall back asleep right beside you, he noticed Suki’s door was ever so slightly left open. He knew she always criticized him for leaving his door open so he knew something was up immediately.

Bakugou went over to Suki’s door, knocking once again just as he did before going to sleep earlier and again there was no response. He pushed the door open, furrowing his brows at the sight of what was supposed to be Suki’s body under her covers but Bakugou was too clever to fall for something so simple. He walked closer to her bed and pulled back the covers, not surprised to see two pillows that were formed to imitate her body.

“She fucking snuck out,” Bakugou muttered angrily to himself. He threw the blanket back onto the bed and went back to his bedroom where you were sleeping. He shook you awake. “Y/N, wake up.”

You woke up frighteningly, sitting upright. “What? What’s wrong?” You asked confused and tired.

“Suki’s not here.”

“What?!” You exclaimed, immediately jumping out of bed and running to Suki’s room to check. You turned back to Bakugou. “Do you think she was abducted? Or kidnapped? Oh no, do you think one of those villains you fought came back for revenge?! Our poor baby–”

“Y/N, calm down,” Bakugou said, placing his hands on your shoulders. “She’s not kidnapped. That little shit snuck out.”

“What? There’s no way Suki would sneak out, Katsuki.”

“She put her pillows under the covers to make it look like she was sleeping.”

“But�� why would she do that?” You questioned. This was completely unlike Suki, which made you ponder even more about her motive. Usually if she wanted to go anywhere or do anything, she would ask you or Bakugou for permission in which, most of the time, you both would say yes.

“Who fucking knows. She’s probably out drinking or partying. She’s fifteen for fucks sake.”

“I don’t know, Katsu, I don’t think she’s the type to do something like that. The only possibility that makes sense is…” You thought about it some more until it finally hit you. “Maybe she’s seeing a boy!”

“A what?”

“Come on, it’s the only thing that makes sense. I don’t think she’s the type to go out drinking.”

“I’d rather her go to a party than be alone with a boy this fucking late.” Bakugou clenched his fists at the thought. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“Wait!” Bakugou ignored you as he continued downstairs, grabbing his coat and throwing his shoes on. “Don’t go out and use your quirk.”

“Why the fuck not? It’s the fastest way to get to her.”

You sighed hopelessly at your husband. “It’s 4 AM, Katsu, your explosions will wake up the whole neighborhood. Just take the car.”

“I hate that fucking piece of shit,” Bakugou grumbled. “Fine.”

“And take this, too.” You tossed his phone that you had quickly grabbed, which he caught with ease. “Call me when you find her.”

Bakugou felt himself getting more and more impatient as he drove in circles around his neighborhood. He knew Suki couldn’t have gone far as he noticed her bike was missing. He checked her friends’ houses that he was aware of for any signs of partying and checked every convenience store nearby as he knew Suki loved them. Bakugou cursed at his daughter internally as she had also turned off her location on her phone. The last place left to check was the new ramen shop that had just opened and you had begged Bakugou to try out with you once he had some time off from work.

Bakugou recognized Suki’s bike parked right in front along with another bike right next to hers. To his knowledge you were right; Suki was here to meet a boy.

Bakugou felt himself getting angrier. How could Suki sneak out for a stupid boy? Doesn’t she know training has to be her top priority? Boys are a distraction and wouldn’t do her any good. He felt justified in these thoughts as he didn’t start dating until after he graduated which was when he met you.

Nevertheless, Bakugou parked and exited the car. He was planning on busting the door down to the restaurant, scold Suki, and murder whatever stupid boy had stolen his only daughter’s heart.

And Bakugou fully planned to do so until he stopped in his tracks at the sight he caught through the window. Suki was laughing, leaning on the person next to her. It was a girl. Initially Bakugou assumed it was a new friend that Suki had made until this new “friend” kissed his daughter on the cheek.

At that moment Bakugou understood fully what was going on. He was still upset that Suki felt like she had to sneak around to spend time with her girlfriend and he still thought having a partner could be a distraction but Bakugou knew he shouldn’t be physically upset as he initially intended to.

So Bakugou waited, his arms across his chest as he leaned against his car and waited for Suki to come out from the restaurant.

When she was getting up to leave with her girlfriend by her side, Suki couldn’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself as much as she did in that ramen shop. She felt so comfortable in her skin and wished she could spend time with Yui more so that she didn’t have to sneak out like she did that night.

“I had a lot of fun today,” Yui said as the girls thanked the shop owners and made their way to the exit.

“Me too. Maybe next time we can go on a date during the day and not 5 AM,” Suki joked and Yui agreed.

“Mhm. But do you feel comfortable telling your parents?”

Suki sighed. “I want to tell them soon. It’s just so scary.”

“I get it, believe me.” Yui pushed the door open and they both walked towards their bikes. “Text me whenever you’re free again.”

Suki nodded and gave her girlfriend a small peck. “Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

“Suki, I live literally right next door. If anything I should be dropping you off,” Yui said with a laugh. “Are you okay getting home?”

Suki nodded confidently. “Absolutely. I’m in U.A. for a reason, you know.”

The girls continued and finished their goodbyes and Suki watched Yui take her bike on a very short ride to her house. She waved to Yui once more before turning around to head back home in the opposite direction. And that was when she finally saw him.

There Bakugou was, still leaned against his car down the road with stern crimson eyes watching his daughter. Suki’s eyes widened at the sight and immediately wanted the ground to swallow her whole. “Dad?!”

“About damn time you noticed me,” Bakugou grumbled, loud enough for Suki to hear as she cautiously walked towards Bakugou.

“What’re you doing here? How’d you find me?” Suki’s bike fell on its side as she loosened her grip out of shock.

“I just wanted to check on you when I woke up and saw you weren’t in bed. Do you know how fucking terrifying that is?” Bakugou asked angrily. Suki winced at her father’s tone, looking down and away from the intensity of his gaze.

Bakugou sighed, calming himself down. After seeing how happy Suki and her girlfriend were together, he felt his initial anger diminish. “Why didn’t you just tell Mom and me you wanted to hang out with your girlfriend?”

Suki felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions. She felt exposed but also guilty for not being open with her parents. “I-I don’t know. It was hard keeping this from you.”

Bakugou watched Suki closely and briefly. He could see her body shaking in what he assumed to be fear. He had caught her in an intimate moment with her significant other, someone that she felt that she had to hide from her parents. And it broke Bakugou’s heart thinking about how difficult it must have been carrying a secret so big and integral to who she was as a person.

Bakugou took a few steps forward, closing the gap between him and his daughter and he embraced her. Suki, whose eyes were still fixated on the ground, was taken aback at this sudden act. Her father, one who rarely showed any physical affection, was hugging her so tightly. “I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like having to keep this secret.”

Suki’s vision blurred as tears began to well in her eyes. She buried her face in Bakugou’s chest and she returned the embrace. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you guys,” Suki blurted out in between her sobs.

Bakugou patted her ash blonde hair down with his hand, still holding her as tight as he possibly could. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t be open with me. I know I can be shitty and tough on you but I’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

Suki sniffled as she pulled away, rubbing her eyes and ridding her cheeks from the tears that had stained them. “It’s not that I felt like I couldn’t open up to you or Mom. I knew deep down that you guys would accept me regardless if I were gay or straight but I kept psyching myself out.”

Bakugou smiled softly, patting her back. “Suki, there’s nothing on this fucking Earth you could ever do to make me or your mother disappointed in you. Even if you decided to not be a hero anymore, I wouldn’t give a shit. All I want is for you to put your all into whatever it is you do and not to half ass anything.”

Suki smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Dad.” Bakugou knelt down and grabbed Suki’s bike, wheeling it over to his car as he put it in the trunk.

“So am I off the hook for sneaking out?” Suki asked, hoping to hear the answer she wanted to hear as she walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Fuck no. You’re still in trouble,” Bakugou stated simply in which Suki sighed, not surprised at the answer. “Now you don’t have to sneak out to see your girlfriend, at least.” The two entered the car and Bakugou turned the vehicle on as he turned it around to head back home.

“Can I invite Yui over for dinner sometime?” Suki asked, looking at her father expectantly.

“Yeah. You gotta explain to your Mom what happened. She’s at home thinking you got kidnapped.” The two laughed as they made their way back home to you.

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cre8inghavoc · 1 month ago

Text

Can't help it...

Part 6

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

a/n: ahhh i forgot this was a smau as well... whoops... so here's some smau for u guys hehe

SMAU

WRITTEN PORTION:

As you and Inumaki pulled up to campus and got off his bike, you could feel the weight of people’s gazes on you immediately. Students were blatantly staring, some pretending to scroll on their phones, while others whispered to each other as you passed by. The attention was unnerving, and you found yourself gripping the straps of your backpack a little tighter.

“Why are people staring at us?” you asked under your breath, your voice tinged with confusion as you glanced around.

Inumaki didn’t respond right away. He calmly continued walking and without a word, he pulled out his phone, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his face beneath his helmet.

You watched him for a moment, curious, before his expression shifted—something between amusement and annoyance flickered in his eyes. He tilted his phone in your direction, showing you what he’d just found.

It was a tweet from the university’s notorious campus account:

@CursedUser was seen pulling up to campus with a mystery girl. Who is she?....

Your stomach dropped when you saw the attached photo—clear as day, it was you and Inumaki, as soon as you got off the bike, which was not even 2 minutes ago. “Oh my god, did someone seriously take a picture of us and post it?!” you exclaimed, your voice rising in disbelief.

Inumaki shrugged nonchalantly, his body language showing he wasn’t too bothered by it. “Looks like it,” he said casually, his voice muffled slightly through his helmet.

You grabbed your own phone, your fingers moving faster than your thoughts as you clicked on the tweet. Curiosity got the better of you, and you tapped on the account that had been tagged in the tweet: @CursedUser.

What you saw next made your jaw drop. The follower count next to his handle was in the millions. Videos of Inumaki riding his bike, doing stunts, and even casually talking to his followers filled the page. You scrolled in disbelief, each post racking up thousands of likes and comments.

Your eyes widened as the realization hit you, you stopped in your tracks and you looked back at him in shock. “Wait… you're famous?! A famous biker?!”

Inumaki chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. “I guess you could say that,” he replied, his tone casual as ever.

You stared at him, still processing everything. “How did I not know this? You have, like, millions of followers!”

He gave a small shrug. “I don’t really bring it up. It’s just a hobby that got popular.”

You blinked, your thoughts racing. “A hobby?! People take pictures of you, and you have a huge following on TikTok and Instagram… that’s not just a hobby, Inumaki, that’s a thing!”

He gave you a relaxed smile. “It’s no big deal.”

You, on the other hand, were far from calm. “No big deal? People are staring at us, taking pictures of us! People think we’re dating—and some girls are literally mad that you’re with me! Oh my god, we’re not even—” You cut yourself off, the words stumbling out faster than you could think.

Inumaki's expression softened as he watched you freak out. His smile faded, but there was a gentle amusement in his eyes. “Relax,” he said calmly. “They love making things up. It’s just rumors.”

You huffed, still not fully believing it. “Yeah, but people are mad, Toge! I didn’t sign up for this kind of attention. I didn’t even know you were, like, famous on social media!”

Inumaki smiled sheepishly. “It’s not a big deal, seriously. I don’t really mention it because, well, I don’t care about all that.” He shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“But people think we’re together! That’s…” you trailed off, glancing around as you noticed more eyes on the two of you, whispering. “This is so weird...”

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he met your eyes. “Look, if it’s bothering you, I can clear it up. I’ll tell people we’re just friends, and they’ll stop talking.”

You hesitated, feeling an odd pang at the thought of him saying you were just friends. But that’s all you were, right? Just friends.

“Yeah… maybe,” you replied quietly, your heart betraying the calm tone you were trying to keep. “I just… need a second to process this.”

Inumaki nodded, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Take your time. But nothing’s changed between us, okay? We’re still just us.”

You nodded slowly, trying to take in everything he said, but your thoughts were still racing. The idea of being the center of attention because of Toge’s popularity was overwhelming. The whispers around you felt louder now, and you couldn’t shake the weight of people watching your every move.

“But it’s not just us,” you muttered, glancing around at the students who were still sneaking glances. “It feels like the entire campus is waiting for us to do something… or for you to confirm something.”

Inumaki followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the attention. “Let them talk. They’re not worth stressing over,” he said, his voice calm and steady.

You sighed, biting your lip as you tried to shake off the anxiety building up inside you. “It’s easy for you to say that. You’re used to it. But this is… new for me.”

He took a step closer, and suddenly you felt the warmth of his presence a little more than usual. His hand hovered near your arm, as if he was about to reach out but hesitated. “I get it,” he said softly. “It’s a lot. I know. But I meant what I said earlier—I don’t care what they think. I just care about spending time with you.”

Your heart did a strange flip at his words, and for a second, you couldn’t look at him. The weight of his gaze was too much, and it made your pulse race. “I… I know,” you murmured, trying to sound casual, but the flutter in your chest made it hard to keep your voice steady.

There was a brief, tense silence between the two of you. The noise of the campus around you faded into the background as your focus narrowed on the way his eyes softened when he looked at you. You weren’t sure if it was just your imagination, but something in the air between you shifted—like there was more to his words than he was letting on.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter than before. “Do you think… maybe we should let them think what they want? Like, not deny it?”

Inumaki raised an eyebrow, surprised by your question. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, feeling your cheeks warm slightly. Thank god you still had your helmet on. “I mean, if people are going to make assumptions, maybe it’s easier to just… let them. We don’t have to explain ourselves.”

His gaze locked on yours, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “So, you’re saying we just go along with it?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I don’t know… maybe? It’s better than denying it and making it a bigger deal, right?”

Inumaki’s lips quirked up into a small smile, but there was a serious edge to his expression. “If that’s what you want, I’m fine with it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You didn’t know why, but the idea of people assuming you were together… didn’t seem as bad as you thought it would. Maybe part of you wasn’t as against the idea as you had convinced yourself to be.

“Yeah, let’s just… leave it. Let them think what they want,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Inumaki’s smile widened just a bit, his eyes glinting with that familiar warmth. “Alright. We’ll do that then.”

You stood there for a moment longer, feeling the weight of an unspoken understanding settle between the two of you. Whatever this was, you weren’t ready to define it—but maybe, just maybe, you were okay with letting things unfold in their own time.

“Come on. We don’t want to be late for class,” he said, his tone casual again, though the warmth in his eyes lingered.

You nodded, falling into step beside him as the two of you made your way through the campus. The whispers and glances were still there, but with Inumaki next to you, they seemed to fade into the background. You tried to shake off the nervous energy from earlier and focus on the fact that, for now, things were back to normal—or as normal as they could be.

When you entered the classroom, you noticed a few heads turn your way, but no one said anything outright. You glanced at Inumaki, and he gave you a small nod as if to say, “Ignore it.” You took a deep breath and followed him to your usual spot.

As you sat down next to him, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort. Even though you were still hyper-aware of the attention on you, sitting beside him felt natural, like you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone.

He didn’t seem to care about the attention, and his calm presence grounded you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Before you knew it, the class ended, and the day moved on.

By the time lunch rolled around, you and Inumaki had parted ways to meet up with your separate friend groups. You spotted Nobara waving you over to a table in the courtyard where Megumi and Yuji were already sitting, deep in conversation.

“Y/N! Over here!” Nobara called, waving enthusiastically as you made your way over.

You smiled, grateful to see your friends and eager to distract yourself from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been dealing with all morning. As you sat down, Nobara gave you a curious look. “So, what’s this I hear about you arriving with a certain mystery biker this morning?”

Megumi raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, while Yuji’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Yeah, we saw it on twitter and heard some people talking about it. You and Inumaki?” he asked, his tone teasing.

You felt your cheeks flush. “Shhh!” You quickly shut his mouth with your hand, looking around to make sure no one was listening. “Don’t say his name out loud,” you whispered, panicking slightly.

Yuji blinked, surprised by your reaction but still grinning behind your hand. “Okay, okay!” he mumbled.

You pulled your hand away, feeling the heat rise to your face as you tried to play it off. “It’s nothing. We just… came to school together.”

Nobara narrowed her eyes playfully. “Uh-huh. And that’s why everyone’s talking about how you’re the ‘mystery girl’ Inumaki showed up with? Seems like more than just a ride to school to me.”

You sighed, feeling the familiar nervousness creeping up again. “People are making it into a bigger deal than it is.”

Yuji, still amused, chuckled softly. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think it’s kind of cool. The mysterious biker has a mystery girl now.”

You groaned, putting your head in your hands. “Not you too, Yuji…”

Nobara smirked, leaning in closer. “Come on, Y/N, spill. What’s really going on between you and Inumaki? There’s no way it’s just a coincidence you two showed up together like that.”

You groaned again, feeling cornered. “There’s nothing going on, seriously! He just gave me a ride. That’s it.”

Megumi, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally spoke up. “You do realize people love a good mystery, right? And Inumaki’s whole ‘nobody knows who he really is’ thing makes it worse. People are gonna speculate.”

“Exactly!” Nobara chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “He’s already the mysterious, hot biker, and now you’re suddenly the girl he’s been spotted with. Of course, everyone’s going to jump to conclusions.”

You sighed, feeling the pressure mount. “Yeah, well, that’s their problem, not mine. I didn’t ask for this attention.”

Yuji gave you a sympathetic look, though his grin never faded. “If it’s bothering you that much, maybe just talk to him about it.”

You paused, unsure how to respond. Sure, you and Inumaki had briefly discussed letting the rumors slide, but you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the right call. Was it better to clear things up and risk making it worse, or just let everyone believe whatever they wanted?

Nobara’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “So, what’s he like? I mean, you’ve spent more time with him than any of us. Is he as mysterious as people say?”

You hesitated for a moment, thinking back to the quiet moments you’d shared with Inumaki. Despite his popularity and the aura of mystery surrounding him, he had always been kind, laid-back, and… comforting. You realized you hadn’t even seen him as the “mysterious biker” that everyone else seemed obsessed with. To you, he was just… Toge.

“He’s… nice,” you said, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks again. “He doesn’t care about all the attention. It’s not really his thing. He just likes to ride.”

Nobara raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your answer. “Huh. So he’s not all about the hype?”

“Nope,” you replied, shaking your head. “He’s super chill about everything.”

Yuji leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a thoughtful expression. “That makes sense. I mean, he always gives off that ‘doesn’t care about anything’ vibe. Guess that’s part of what makes him so cool.”

Nobara suddenly leaned in, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “So, does he ever take the mask off when you’re alone?”

Your eyes widened at the question, and you felt your face go bright red. “N-Nobara! That’s not—he—” you stammered, flustered.

Nobara laughed, enjoying your reaction. “Just messing with you! But seriously, if you do get a peek, you better tell us.”

You buried your face in your hands again, groaning. “You guys are impossible…”

Here’s the revised version with Inumaki entering the scene and teasing Y/N:

You buried your face in your hands again, groaning. “You guys are impossible…”

Before anyone could say more, you felt a familiar presence behind you, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Slowly, you peeked through your fingers and froze.

Inumaki stood behind you, his helmet still on, casually holding another helmet in his hand. He tilted his head slightly as if he had heard enough of the conversation to get the gist of it.

“Talking about me, Y/N?” he teased, his voice muffled slightly through the helmet.

Your entire body stiffened as your face turned an even deeper shade of red. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around and face him, so instead, you stared straight into Nobara’s eyes, silently pleading for her to not make things worse.

Nobara, of course, couldn’t resist. She smirked at Yuji, who was desperately trying to hold in his laughter, covering his mouth with his hand to keep from bursting out.

Megumi, ever the calm one, simply gave Inumaki a nod in greeting, acknowledging his presence without any fuss.

Inumaki shifted slightly, leaning down a bit as he continued to tease. “Didn’t know I was such a hot topic today,” he said lightly, his voice filled with amusement.

You finally turned around, your cheeks still burning. “We were just… talking,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nobara, ever the instigator, grinned. “Oh, we were definitely talking about you, Inumaki. Y/N here was just telling us how ‘nice’ you are.”

You shot Nobara a glare, silently begging her to stop, but she just smirked in response. Inumaki, however, chuckled lightly under his helmet.

“Mind if I steal Y/N for a bit?” he asked, his tone still casual, but there was a hint of something more beneath it.

Nobara raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Steal her away, huh? I mean, go ahead, but don’t keep her too long,” she teased, making you feel even more flustered.

Megumi just shrugged, while Yuji’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Yeah, sure, take her,” he said, barely able to suppress his laughter.

numaki glanced down at you and nodded toward the spare helmet in his hand. “Come on,” he said softly.

You hesitated for a moment, but eventually pushed your chair back and stood, feeling the weight of your friends' eyes on you. Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi watched intently, curiosity and amusement clear on their faces.

Inumaki held the helmet up, then gently placed it on your head. You felt a flutter in your stomach as his fingers brushed your hair back, making sure the helmet fit snugly. He adjusted it with care, his movements calm and steady.

Your cheeks burned as you stood there, trying to keep your cool while your friends watched everything unfold. Nobara’s grin was practically ear-to-ear, and Yuji looked like he was holding back another laugh. Even Megumi glanced between you and Inumaki with a knowing look.

Once the helmet was on, Inumaki’s fingers found the straps under your chin, and he leaned in slightly, securing the buckle with ease. His face was close enough that you could see the focus in his eyes, and the warmth of his touch made your heart race even faster.

“There,” he said, stepping back slightly. “All set.”

You swallowed hard, feeling completely flustered under the weight of his gaze and the situation.

Nobara broke the silence first, her grin widening. “Well, look at that. Personal service.”

Yuji finally let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “VIP treatment for Y/N, huh?”

You could only glance down at the ground, too embarrassed to say anything as Inumaki’s calm, steady presence lingered next to you.

“Ready to go?” he asked, his voice soft but teasing.

You nodded, too flustered to say much more. Inumaki gently placed a hand on your back, guiding you away from the table toward his bike, leaving your friends behind, who were now sharing amused glances and whispers.

You followed him toward his bike, trying your best to calm the flurry of emotions that were racing through you.

When you reached his bike, Inumaki glanced back at you. “Hop on,” he said, giving you a small nod as he mounted the bike himself.

You hesitated for a second, but then climbed onto the back, settling in behind him. The helmet was secure, but your heart was still racing—not from nerves this time, but from the fact that you were holding onto him again, your arms instinctively wrapping around his waist.

Inumaki turned his head slightly, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You good?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was the ride that had your stomach in knots or the closeness you now felt. “Yeah, I’m good,” you managed to say, your voice a little muffled by the helmet.

“Where are you taking me?”

Inumaki tilted his head slightly again, the hint of a playful smile in his eyes. “Just wait and see,” he replied, his voice soft yet teasing.

He turned his attention back to the bike. He started the engine with a smooth, practiced motion, the sound rumbling beneath you. With a quick flick of his hand, he shut his visor down, and without another word, he took off, the bike surging forward as you held on tight.

After a few more minutes, Inumaki slowed the bike, eventually pulling into a quiet park on the edge of town. He guided the bike to a stop near a small clearing, surrounded by tall trees and a few scattered benches. The sound of the engine faded, leaving only the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Inumaki sat still for a moment, then flipped up his visor and glanced back at you. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity.

You pulled off your helmet, taking a deep breath of the fresh air as you looked around. It was peaceful here, a welcome change from the noise and attention of earlier. “It’s perfect,” you said, smiling softly as you met his eyes.

He nodded, seeming satisfied with your response, both getting off the bike and taking off your helmets.

“Enjoy the ride?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.

You smirked and nodded. “Not bad. Could’ve used a little more speed, though.”

He chuckled, his voice low. “I didn’t think you could handle more than that.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t think I can handle it? Please.”

Inumaki tilted his head, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Oh yeah? Think you can keep up with me?”

“Easily,” you shot back, crossing your arms, feeling a boldness creep into your voice. “In fact, maybe next time I’ll drive.”

He laughed, a smooth sound that made your stomach flutter a bit. “I’d love to see that,” he said, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he pushed off the bike and stood in front of you, his presence close and warm.

You felt your heart skip slightly at the proximity, but you refused to back down. “I’ll show you one of these days,” you said with a smirk, holding his gaze. “Then we’ll see who’s really got the skills.”

Inumaki stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “I like the confidence,” he said, his eyes flicking over your face for a moment before he added, “but I’m not so sure you can back it up.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your face but not willing to let him win that easily. “Is that a challenge, Inumaki?”

“Depends. You up for it?”

“Always.”

He chuckled again, his eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned back just slightly. “Guess we’ll see.”

There was a moment of charged silence between you, the playful energy lingering in the air as you stood there. You were caught somewhere between wanting to push the teasing further and trying to figure out how to keep your cool around him.

Finally, you broke the silence with a playful nudge to his shoulder. “What’s with the sudden interest in stealing me away, anyway? You got bored with your fan club?”

Inumaki raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “What can I say? Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you.”

His words, though casual, made your heart flutter. You tried to brush it off, keeping the teasing going. “Could’ve just asked, you know.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind me stealing you for a bit.”

“Maybe I do.”

Inumaki’s smirk widened as he leaned in just a little closer, the teasing glint in his eyes more obvious now. “Maybe you do? Sounds like you’re not sure.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, refusing to let him win so easily. “Oh, I’m sure,” you shot back, feeling your pulse race under the intensity of his gaze. “But I think you’re the one who’s a little too confident.”

Inumaki raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “Confident? Nah." He leaned back slightly, his smirk never fading. “You’re not as tough as you act.”

“You think I’m not tough? You must not know me at all.”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, I know you,” he said, his voice dropping a bit. “That’s why I know you’re bluffing.”

“Bluffing, huh? You’re really underestimating me, Inumaki.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just all talk.”

You felt a surge of competitiveness rise in you, and you stepped a little closer, matching his energy. “Careful, Toge,” you said, your voice low but teasing. “You might not like what happens if you keep testing me.”

His smile widened, clearly liking where this was going. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice equally soft and teasing. “I think I’d enjoy it.”

The playful tension between you two hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like a game—both of you pushing and pulling, seeing who would crack first. You weren’t about to let him win that easily, though.

You crossed your arms, feeling the spark of competitive energy between you two. “You sound awfully sure of yourself,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think you enjoy pushing my buttons.”

Inumaki chuckled softly, stepping just a little closer again. “Maybe I do. You make it fun.”

You scoffed, trying to hide how flustered you were. “Fun? You haven’t seen anything yet.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh? So what exactly am I in for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I think I already do.”

His words sent a wave of heat through you, and you had to fight to keep your composure. You were determined to stay in control of the situation, no matter how much he was testing you.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you shot back, tilting your head in mock defiance. “I’m full of surprises.”

Inumaki grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to stick around and find out.”

You tried to keep your cool, but the way his eyes were fixed on you, the playful tension hanging between you, made it hard to focus on anything else. “Well,” you said with a smirk, “good luck with that.”

His smirk deepened, as if he had already won this round. “I don’t need luck,” he replied smoothly. “I’ve got you figured out.”

“Oh really? You think you’ve got me all figured out?”

Inumaki didn’t back down, stepping even closer, the space between you practically nonexistent now. His eyes flickered with something more as he replied, “Yeah. I do.”

His smirk softened as he leaned in even closer, his eyes focused on yours. For a split second, your breath caught in your throat as he closed the space between you, and your heart pounded in your chest.

His face was so close now, you could feel the warmth radiating from him. It was almost as if he was going to—

But just before his lips could brush yours, Inumaki stopped, that teasing smirk returning to his face as he lingered there, leaving you hanging. His eyes glinted with amusement as he stayed close, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

“Got you,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, pulling back slightly but not enough to give you any real distance.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your face burning with heat. You narrowed your eyes, trying to recover quickly. “Really? You’re going to play like that?”

Inumaki chuckled softly, stepping back just a little more, his smirk widening. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

“You think you’re so smooth, don’t you?”

He tilted his head slightly, shrugging in that casual, confident way. “I don’t think,” he teased. “I know.”

“Yeah, well… you’re not as clever as you think.”

“Oh? And here I thought you liked a little challenge.”

“I do,” you shot back, your voice steady as you met his gaze head-on. “But I’m not the only one getting challenged here, am I?”

Inumaki’s smirk softened into something more playful, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe not,” he admitted, his tone still teasing but with a hint of something else. “But I’m enjoying it. It’s kinda fun watching you try to figure me out.”

“You think I’ll just keep playing along?”

“I think you’re enjoying it more than you’re letting on.”

You scoffed, though you couldn’t hide the slight smile creeping onto your lips. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can walk away anytime.”

"Yet you’re still here.”

He gave you one last playful look before turning toward his bike. “Come on. Let’s head back before we give them something else to talk about.”

You hesitated for a second, still feeling the buzz from the almost-kiss, before following him to the bike. As you climbed on behind him, you couldn’t help but wonder if this teasing game was just that—or if there was something more...

Taglist <3

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf

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faeriekit · 16 days ago

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hi! hope you're having an okay day. I was wondering if you had any fic recs, specifically with Matches Malone and/or identity shenanigans? I also really enjoy those fics :D hope you have a good day!

Identity shenanigans or Matches Malone?? Uhhhhhhhhhhh (*immediate panic*).

So the thing is, it really really really depends on what you, stranger, are comfortable with, and what you enjoy?? There are a lot of fics I like, or at least have tried out myself, but there are also a half-dozen that are super content sensitive, especially when it comes to, like, gang stuff and Gotham's underbelly...? I'm going to put a couple things here, but. Uh. I will also recommend just opening the Matches Malone tag on ao3 and applying your own filters, since I don't know any of your hard lines! There's only like 173 fics in total. Sorting through them is super easy. Have fun and be yourself.

On the other hand, I've got some stuff here:

Matches Malone identity nonsense:

⭐Good girls don't, but I do: Superbat, several undercover identities, gender fuckery (of what nature is up to reader interpretation), Journalist Clark Kent, and first time meetings! Unfinished so far, but super fun with a lot of potential! I am very excited about this one!!

⭐Have I told you about Minnie? Steph and Bruce bonding! Turns out, if you're pretending to be someone else, it's super easy to say nice things about your kids when they're not listening, lol...or are they? 👀

Matches Malone Has Too Many Kids: Man, weird how Matches Malone has as many kids as Brucie Wayne, huh....and boy will he tell you all about what his crime family has been up to! Features Bruce & Family bonding via undercover identities; what could go wrong?

⭐homewrecker: Omegaverse; Red Hood accidentally tells Two Face that Matches Malone (Bruce, undercover,) is his mom. ...Whoops. Now all of Gotham has an opinion on Matches' (Bruce) and Batman's (also Bruce) custody battle over their crime lord son, and new step-mom Bruce Wayne (also also Bruce) is asked to weigh in lmao. Top tier comedy. So dumb. Cannot recommend enough. Every single Bat kid takes the piss. Gotham's undergound is in a tizzy. Bruce is so, so tired.

⭐Under(under)cover: DC x White Collar. Tim, undercover as an ex-con in the government's favorite form of law enforcement, suddenly has to get the detectives around him off his back before his identity is exposed...so obviously pulling out a few Malone family members is a good enough distraction, right? 💀 Pretending you've recently escaped a crime family is totally not an extra burden to your already half-busted cover identity, Tim! There are no possible consequences for this!

Don't Mess with Ma's Boy: Ma's Boy, Metropolis's enforcer for Mafia head Ma Kent, catches a Bat in his back yard. Obviously, the solution is to show him around town and share street food, of course. (SuperBat, with Super Shenanigans lmao)

Other Malone nonsense (Batfam Identities Two, Electric Boogaloo):

Playing with Matches: Batfam-centric secondary identities schtick. You're a Malone! You're a Malone! Red Hood's a Malone?? Everyone's a Malone!! Outside POV from Red Hood's gang and more!

⭐Robbie Malone saves the day & spills secrets: a DC x White Collar undercover op extravaganza, featuring Jason and Dick as our MCs. (TW: does feature fears of sexual assault, nothing onscreen.)

The one who got away: another DC x White Collar fic. Turns out, uh, if you don't tell your new kid that you're the famous Gotham Bats or why one of Gotham's most famous untouchable mob families is coming around to visit all the time, they're going to come to their own conclusions! Those conclusions may not be flattering! They might be scared enough to cut and run, actually! You may have to apologize for making this extremely stressful on them!! ...If they let you back in at all!

Features smut (mostly SuperBat)(There are other ships in the tag they're just not my thing; go explore the tag yourself for other options):

⭐I want to sell what you're buying: Clark Kent, journalist, meets Matches Malone, informant, for a...wilder time than he was expecting to agree to on his trip into Gotham. (TW Fic eventually makes it more obvious that Clark knows who/what he's agreeing to, but it does read on the edge of identity dubcon for a hot minute if you're sensitive to that)

Matches and the Doll: I do love the dynamic of a ne'er do well and his extremely obedient Super as choice of undercover roles, but this is, at the end of the day, all leading up to wild exhibitionist smut FYI

Pretty Reporters Are Always In Need of Saving (title is largely self explanatory) is followed up with by a SuperBat week 2024 fill Good Boys Play with Matches. It's uh. You know. Alley sex and roleplay. Read the warnings.

Recs from the discord (Home of the Apiary Genders!)

(Un)Conventional Date Night: Dp x DC. Matches Malone and two out-of-town scientists tear up the town on their night off!

Your Boy That Was, the Son That Is... More Matches Malone & Red Hood identity angst. What happens when the son recognizes his father, but the man himself cannot?

Art:

Bruce as Matches Malone and Clark Illustration, as presented on ao3!

I think that's all I have time for today...? There are other identity shenanigan fics I love that aren't on here, but this list took me like an hour and a half and there is other writing I'm supposed to get done today...lol. I'm only 181 pages into this unreleased fic! I better get moving! 😜

Thanks for asking!🧡

#thanks for asking!#dc #fic rec #I guess. This is more a haphazard guess at RA than it is actual fic recs ngl #matches malone #batfam #SuperBat #listen. I am a sucker for fake danger and undercover bullshit. But I knew that already #I am also a sucker for well done espionage and lying! I LOVE lying. Why do characters ever tell the truth??#everyone should go undercover. You. Me. pretend to be someone else at the mall next week. Dress different. Change your name. Smile differen #dp x dc #dc x white collar

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sant-riley · 2 years ago

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[Ghost, Soap and Price when you ask them "would you get my name tattooed on you?"] headcanons

A/N: This is for fun, no one requested it but I love tattoos and I got some soooooo here we go!

A/N 2: this was started back in December lmfao whoops, anyways this is just some random thoughts .

Ghost:

Ghost is gonna either A) look at you like you're stupid as fuck or B) call you stupid as fuck for even asking if you two are not close.

However, you are close so he humors you, despite not saying a for sure yes or no.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you love me~"

"You think I love you?" Dude is making heart eyes at you as y'all speak, he's full of shit.

You pester him and poke at his chest, telling him you want your name here or there and he just rolls his eyes when he lays on his back.

He makes grunts and snarky remarks like he'd cut the skin off and belly laughs when you pout and can't help but flick your forehead and say it wouldn't happen.

A liar, he's gonna get a tattoo to symbolize you, just not your name. In y'alls line of work it's too dangerous, he's a known soldier and he has a target on his back. Whatever hyperfixation you have, whatever special interest, is something he'd get inked on him, probably on the inside of his arm to keep it hidden.

He runs his fingers across it before and after a mission, even if you're there with him. It's a habit that he'll probably never break. (I'm imagining him with Optimus tattoo for me I'm crying)

Soap:

He's been waiting. He is absolutely saying yes. He's been thinking about it for awhile and has been designing in his little journal what fonts he would get.

You cannot tell me that this man wouldn't get his loved ones name on him bc he absolutely WOULD.

He doesn't care if it's bad luck to get your partners name on you, as far as he's concerned he's yours for as long as you'll have him and you both work together, been through hell together. He's sure of it if you are okay with it.

He's the guy to get your name over his heart 😭 probably also with some flowers/symbols that represent you around it as well.

He presents it to you all giddy and laughs loud when you throw your arms around his neck hugging him.

"You like it? Now you're stuck with me 'orever~" while he gives you kisses all over your face.

Soap proudly flaunts when he's shirtless, his dog tags and your name on his chest make him so egotistical (it's warranted he's so fucking hot)

Would be very happy if you were to get his name but would never pressure you, however if you were, he'd need to design it for you <3

Price:

Price is on the fence, he's not a tattoo man and never has been. But he loves you, more than he's ever loved anyone so it's a firm maybe.

It'll have to be a couple of years before he genuinely will sit down and consider it.

Wouldn't get your name but instead your initial, probably on the inside of his finger or on some easily hidden slice of skin.

You don't even fucking see it until months pass and he's changing.

"Oh that? Got it back on downtime between missions." Motherfucker.

He grumbles as you steal whatever limb it's on but he's happy you're so so ecstatic and he thinks the glowing smile you send him makes it worth it.

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess @stupid-ninja @milkmily @lune-la-chanson @tamayakii @teacupcollector @perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains @marsbar127xx @baddump @xncasi @king-cookiex @palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager @hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol @cluelessyasmin @sesshomaruwaifu @chaos-unchecked @kalamataolivesssss @arunasmisfortune @tbrfics @117s-girl @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @sparrowwithaquill @justtiredandvibing

#ghost <3 #soap <3 #price <3 #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kayla writes <3 #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john price x reader #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain price x female reader #gn reader

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nebulousbrainsoup · 11 months ago

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Day One

🏔️ SUMMARY: Something has been missing for the past few years Wooyoung has been to the mountain with your family and his. Maybe this year, he'll figure out what it is. 🏔️ PAIRING: brother's best friend!Jung Wooyoung x Kang!reader 🏔️ GENRE: smut, fluff 🏔️ AU/TROPE INFO: brother's best friend, mutual pining, childhood friends to lovers 🏔️ WORD COUNT: 6.2k whoops 🏔️ WARNINGS: language, smut, woosansang banter, sansang undertones 🏔️ RATING: mature 🏔️ A/N: Happy holidays from your CoDNet secret santa, @wooyoungqueen! This was so much fun to write, and I really hope you enjoy it!! it got a little away from me lol smut tags under the cut ; divs from @cafekitsune masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

NSFW TAGS/WARNINGS: first time together, light praise kink, fingering, oral (fem receiving), wooyoung’s nose, they’re both switches, unprotected sex (reader is on birth control but boo), riding

The weeks following Wooyoung’s birthday had been a flurry of activity for nearly as long as he could remember. Whatever energy had been put into planning his celebration was rapidly redirected to coordinating the family’s annual trip to the mountains—an event that seemed to grow with him. It had been going on for as long as he could remember, beginning as a much-needed post-holiday getaway for his household. The first expansion came in middle school, when he met and attached himself to Kang Yeosang—the two families melded together naturally when the Kangs moved in next door, and one cabin rental became two, right next to each other and nestled among the pines at the Jungs’ favorite resort. It had been on one of these early trips that you and Wooyoung had become nearly as attached to each other as he and your older brother had been and, much to Yeosang’s chagrin at the time, their duo became a trio.

Despite Wooyoung and Yeosang having graduated and moved out, they both still found themselves drawn back to that same resort year after year. You, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. Your degree had proven a bit more demanding than either your brother’s or Wooyoung’s and, after your first year, they found themselves sharing deflated smiles as they watched you breeze through your parents’ front door after Christmas dinner. Something within Wooyoung ached each time, and the cabin he now shared with his brothers and yours—the cabins had long since been shuffled from ‘Jung’ and ‘Kang’ to ‘Parents’ and ‘Kids’—never quite felt the same.

He’d never quite figured out why his favorite tradition had begun to taste so bittersweet. Maybe, he decided, it was the monotony finally getting to him. Yeosang liked to call him a child of chaos, reminding him often that his creative slumps usually just meant he needed a change of scenery. He’d discovered every nook and cranny in both of the cabins they rented each year by the time he was 14. He’d been through every freestyle zone and explored every tree trail his board could fit through over the years, and even taught Kyungmin a few tricks. Now that he was of age, he’d been to every bar within walking distance of the slopes, too. The novelty had to have worn off; he’d seen and done it all. He’d give anything to see his safe haven for the first time again.

Maybe, just maybe, seeing it through someone else’s eyes would have the desired effect.

“Sannie, you said you snowboard, right?” He called from the couch, barely glancing up from his phone.

Wooyoung’s roommate blinked at him from the kitchen, leaned against the breakfast bar with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “I have before. I don’t… do it regularly.”

“And you had fun, right?”

San blinked, confused, and let his cereal settle back into its bowl. “Yeah? What is this about, Wooyoung?”

“Great! You’re coming on the ski trip this year.”

“Are you paying?” San scoffed half in jest, rolling his eyes heartily before turning his attention back to the book he had pinned to the counter.

“Yes.”

The flat tone of Wooyoung’s voice had him stunned, eyes wide as he slowly looked back up. “Are you serious right now?” When the younger nodded resolutely, no twinkle of mischief in his eyes, San gaped. “You’re not going to come up short on rent for this, are you?”

Wooyoung snorted. “No. It’s a family thing. My older brother can’t go anymore, so we’ve got an empty spot. Wanna come?”

“Absolutely.”

Pulling up to the cabin two months later with San in the passenger seat of his rented

SUV, he was certain he’d found the piece he’d been missing over the past few years. His friend’s excitement was palpable and contagious, the elder’s leg bouncing furiously and his cheeks split into a wide grin as he drank in the scenery. Wooyoung couldn’t help but laugh a little as he launched himself from the car the moment it was in park, spinning in the snow-covered driveway to take in the full view.

“Do you really come here every year?” He asked, his voice a little breathless with awe.

Wooyoung grinned, nodding. “Since I was a kid. We stayed in the cabin next door until I was in high school, but that’s for the real adults now,” he snorted a laugh. “Once Sangie and I hit high school, we were trustworthy enough to watch my little brother, I guess, and it’s been kids and parents since. My older brother usually stays with us too, but he has some work thing, I guess.” San nodded, silent and still staring, and Wooyoung couldn’t help but watch him for a moment with a stupid grin. “C’mon, help me unload before everyone else gets here. Yeosangie’s ruthless about first-come, first-serve room picking.”

That seemed to snap his roommate from his awe-struck stupor, and within moments, they found themselves wrapped in the familiar warmth of the cabin. Crossing the threshold into resounding silence had a pang of something wrong echoing in Wooyoung’s chest, and he frowned for a moment as he tugged his boots off.

“This is nice.”

San’s voice tugged him out of his thoughts, and Wooyoung forced a smile. “Right? Follow me, the good bed’s upstairs.”

They were each draped over separate arms of the couch, half-focused on the drama Wooyoung had put on, when the rumble of tires on the driveway pulled him from his half-asleep daze. San perked up with him, eyebrows raising as he blinked at his friend in question. “Your parents?”

Wooyoung gave a noncommittal shrug. “Or the Kangs.”

“Should we see if they need help?” He offered, standing and heading for the door.

“Fuck that, it’s cold as shit out there,” the younger complained, nestling further into his blanket cocoon. “Have fun freezing your ass off.”

“So thoughtful of you, Wooyoung-ah,” San teased, disregarding the grumble that left his friend.

He listened as the front door shut and his friend called a greeting toward the car, a familiar female voice responding. Huffing a sigh, he turned his attention back to the TV. He could deal with his mother’s chastising of his terrible hosting later.

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was the door of his own cabin to swing back open wide minutes later, a blast of cold air cutting through the air along with an all-too-familiar laugh. His chest tightened inexplicably as it rang like a bell, San’s low chuckle echoing after it, and he turned toward the sounds.

“Two years, and you can’t even come help me with my suitcase, Youngie?”

At the sound of your voice, Wooyoung felt the air around him shift. The cold light filtering in through the windows seemed to warm with your entry, and all at once, the vast, empty cabin once again felt full. He stood, eyes wide and shining with glee as his jaw dropped open for a moment, his chest tightening with something he refused to acknowledge. Schooling his expression into his usual mischievous smirk, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re a big girl, Y/N, you could handle it yourself.”

You sighed heartily, rolling your eyes playfully before turning your gaze to San, who was busy shutting the door behind you. “At least chivalry isn’t completely dead.”

He perked up with wide, round eyes, flashing a megawatt smile at you, and Wooyoung felt the cabin dim a little again. “It’s no problem at all. Where do you, uh… Wooyoung hasn’t given me the full tour, so I’m not sure where to take your stuff.”

Once again, your mirthful gaze turned toward your childhood friend, and his smirk ticked back up. “I assume this one took the good bed all for himself already.”

“The early bird catches the worm, and all that,” he taunted back, San nodding affirmation beside you.

You clicked your tongue in disapproval, sighing and shaking your head. “Can’t even let me enjoy it. I have to get my gear from the car, but I can show you when I get back in, if this one’s still intent on becoming one with the couch.” You nodded back toward Wooyoung, pulling a bark of laughter from San, and something within the younger twisted.

“I can show him, go get your stuff,” he sighed, waving you away as he started for the hall. San glanced between the two of you for a moment before catching your amused, warm smile and, confusion alleviated, followed his friend.

“You didn’t tell me your friend had a sister.”

Wooyoung hummed quietly in acknowledgement, pushing open the downstairs bedroom door. He hadn’t stayed in this room in years, preferring to curl up in the upstairs bedroom with Yeosang and leave this space for his brothers, and for a moment, he was surprised at how small it felt. The twin beds in their corners and the heavy wooden dresser had seemed impossibly big, once upon a time, and lonely as the moonlight filtered through the blinds. Now, the space felt close and cozy, the patterned quilts and stripes of sunlight bathing the room making it look like something out of a catalog. Wooyoung’s chest tightened again and he smiled, nostalgia settling like a blanket around his shoulders.

“Honestly, I didn’t think it would be relevant,” he admitted, pulling open the closet door to check for extra blankets. “You can put her stuff on the bed by the window; she prefers that one.” Behind him, San’s eyes narrowed. “Like she said, it’s been a couple of years since she’s been here, and nobody told me she was coming.”

“Are there going to be enough beds?”

Wooyoung paused, lips pursed in thought and hands on his hips as he turned to face San. “That… Is a very good question. I think we have air mattresses? Worst case, we can stick the kid on the couch or something. We’ll worry about it when—” The sound of a car horn cut him off, and Wooyoung peered through the blinds to peek at the driveway, a grin splitting his face. “After everyone else is through unloading. C’mon, we can still hide in the bedroom if we hurry.”

San fixed him with a flat look, shaking his head gently. “I am going to be nice and help your family unload their car. You can come with me, or you can leave me unattended to gossip with your mom for however long this takes.”

Wooyoung blinked owlishly until San turned to leave, following along behind his roommate on autopilot. “I hate you,” he muttered as they paused to tug on their boots, and San grinned.

Preparations for the traditional, joint-family, first night dinner were underway as you bustled around the kitchen with Wooyoung and both of your mothers. Yeosang and San had both offered their assistance; your brother had been met with a resounding, unanimous ‘No’ from the four of you, which he responded to with a cheeky grin and a small giggle, and San had immediately rescinded his offer. It felt natural for the four of you to be here together again, dancing around each other with a practiced ease as your mothers set themselves up at the island, massive metal bowls and all of the ingredients for kimchi spread out between them. You and Wooyoung quickly sidled up together at the stove, whisking the tteokbokki and potstickers that had been waiting into the living room to keep your fathers, siblings and Wooyoung’s friend occupied while you made the main course. You weren’t surprised to find your brother sat on the floor, his arms open as Kyungmin rushed him for a hug, but you caught the small, choked noise Wooyoung made at the sight of San alongside the pair. You flashed him a private little smile, and a swarm of butterflies kicked up in his stomach.

When you settled at the stove together, you nudged him with your hip, prompting a huff of laughter and a return of the gesture.

“I like your friend.”

Wooyoung nearly dropped the skillet in his hand, the heavy dish clattering against the stovetop loud enough to put a stop to your mothers’ conversation. They peeked back at you, but Wooyoung waved them off as he swallowed bile.

“San?” There was an edge to his voice, he could tell, and he could only hope you hadn’t noticed it, too.

“Yeah,” you nodded, seemingly oblivious as you stirred black bean paste and brown sugar together. “He fits in well and he’s really sweet. You should bring him every year.”

Something vile twisted in Wooyoung’s gut. “Maybe. I’ll see if he wants to come back. Who knows, maybe you’ll scare him off?” He snarked, flashing you a wicked grin. You barked a laugh, elbowing him and earning a squawk of indignation as his pork-filled skillet shifted over the fire. “Careful, you’ll burn dinner! Or worse, me!”

“What’s this about you being the worst?” Yeosang chimed as he slipped over to the fridge, his sudden appearance pulling a shout from the man next to you.

“Oh my god, you need a fucking bell!”

“Watch your mouth, there are children present,” you chastised, clicking your tongue. “We were talking about San,” you supplied as you turned back to your work, and Wooyoung frowned. Yeosang caught the look before he could wipe it away, cocking an eyebrow and smirking knowingly over the neck of his bottle.

Whatever that meant.

Wooyoung glared at him.

“I like him,” Yeosang offered, “he’s sweet. And handsome.” Wooyoung flashed him another glare, this time unintentionally, and your brother shrugged innocently.

You, completely unaware, hummed in agreement. “I was telling Youngie he should bring him back next year. Maybe we could talk to Mom about swapping cabins so I could bring Somin with me and introduce them; they’d be a cute couple.”

The nastiness in Wooyoung’s gut untwisted, and he sighed silently. “I like that idea!”

“I don’t,” Yeosang grumbled, frowning. “Then I’ll be stuck as the fifth wheel.”

You both whipped your heads up to him, brows furrowed in confusion. You thanked whoever was listening that your brother was on the other side of Wooyoung, because you flushed bright pink at his teasing. He was well aware of the little crush you had on your mutual best friend, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it.

“Last I checked, everyone else here was single, and that’s probably not going to change any time soon,” you huffed, stirring the mixture in the wok with a bit more vitriol. Yeosang hid his smile behind his bottle as Wooyoung, too, glared at him.

“You never know,” he hummed, sauntering off back into the living room.

The silence that fell between you and Wooyoung held more tension, this time, as you both processed. Wooyoung stared at the kitchen backsplash, unblinking, until your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“You’re burning the pork.” He startled, promptly pulling the skillet off the stove. You laughed, and just like that, things returned to normal. Shaking your head, you spooned the black bean paste into a bowl and offered him the wok. “I thought you said you knew how to cook now.”

Wooyoung huffed indignantly, hip bumping you to the side. “I can make jjajangmyeon.”

“That was mean, Yeosang, rubbing it in like that.”

Your brother hummed from his place on his bed, eyes glued to the ceiling. Lazily, he turned over and blinked at you. “I’m not rubbing anything in. I’m trying to open your eyes here. He’s been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, flopping onto your own mattress. “If he had been, he would have done something about it.” Yeosang snorted. “I’m serious! If there’s one thing I know about Wooyoung, it’s that he takes what he wants.”

“You think that rule applies to his best friend and other best friend’s sister? He’s probably worried I’ll be pissed if he tells me or something.”

Again, you rolled your eyes.

“I wouldn’t, honestly,” San replied, eyes wide as he tracked Wooyoung, pacing the floor in front of him. “I know how mad I’d be if it turned out you were in love with Haneul.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Sannie,” Wooyoung huffed, collapsing on his back and spreading out across the mattress. He squirmed, situating himself with his head in San’s lap, and the elder obliged, petting at his hair. “But she’s so pretty.”

“She is,” he agreed, holding his hands up in surrender as Wooyoung glared daggers at him. “I’m just saying! Your friend’s sister is pretty! Would you rather I disagree?”

Wooyoung huffed a sigh, frowning and settling back into his roommate’s lap. “God, this week is gonna suck. Having her here is like… It feels better, but it also feels worse, y’know? She’s so close but so far away.”

“You could always, like… Ask Yeosang for permission, first.”

“Didn’t you just advise me against that? Whose side are you on here?”

San shrugged. “I’m just trying to help so I don’t have to listen to you complain all week on the slopes.”

Wooyoung reached up, the back of his hand coming into contact with San’s shoulder and pulling a pained noise from him.

In the morning, you were all up early. Breakfast was a quick, chaotic affair of the four of you cycling in and out of the kitchen, breezing past each other and shouting across the cabin as you made plans. Within an hour of pulling Yeosang from the comfort of his bed, you were all crammed into Wooyoung’s SUV, flasks on your hip to warm you in the snow and your gear strapped to the ski rack. Yeosang, much to your surprise, had slipped into the back seat before you'd even left the house, and was chatting away happily with San as you slid in the passenger seat.

“Who are you and what have you done with Kang Yeosang?” you teased, flashing your brother a skeptical half-glare. He huffed a breath through his nose and rolled his eyes, flopping sideways to lay his head on San’s shoulder, The man flushed bright red but he didn’t flinch or pull away, and you filed that information away for later.

“I made a friend. Let me enjoy him.” You thought San flushed brighter at that.

“Good luck, Sannie, you’re never getting rid of him,” you warned good-naturedly, flashing him a smile in the rearview mirror.

He gave a nervous half-smile, nodding. “Can’t imagine wanting to.”

Your brother’s lips pursed into a small ‘o’, and you watched with a grin as pink dusted his cheeks, too.

Wooyoung seemed surprised by your presence in the front seat, too, as he poked his head in and met you with a “deer-in-the-headlights” look. “That’s not the Yeosang I know.”

You gestured at him, smacking his arm lightly as he climbed into the car. “That’s what I said!”

He grinned, laughing his signature, unfiltered cackle, and your heart clenched. “God, I’m glad you’re back.”

Whether or not Wooyoung noticed the way you sheepishly smiled at your lap, your brother did. He grinned, nudging San, who blinked at him in confusion. This would be a fun week.

The four of you began the day together, meeting at the base lodge with the rest of your family to distribute lift tickets and set an emergency and end-of-day meeting point. You started as you always did, cruising down some of the shorter greens at the base of the mountain as a whole unit as you got your legs under you. You, Wooyoung and Yeosang were ready to crank it up in minutes and, for the most part, your parents were ready to follow. Kyungmin and San were falling more than the rest of you, the former sticking close to his brother and the latter frowning and sighing as he fell into the snow. Yeosang chuckled and laughed at the pout visible under his helmet, skiing over to offer the snowboarder a hand up, and you were left alone to drink in the scene.

You sighed happily, staring up at the peak and drinking in the scenery as you leaned on your poles. People darted and dashed around you, cutting through the snow with ease and creating the perfect soundscape of white noise. You didn’t notice when Wooyoung slid up nex to you until he spoke, startling you out of your reverie.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You jumped, leaning hard on your poles and reaching out to steady yourself. Wooyoung dropped his board into the snow and planted his boots, arms wrapping around your middle as you stumbled on your skis. Sighing as you found your balance again, you rested your hands on his arms, eyes slipping shut.

“Thank you,” you hummed, turning over your shoulder with a smile to—oh.

He was so close to you. You felt your cheeks heat again, this time not from the sting of the cold. “You’re… welcome,” he muttered, and you felt your heart leap into your chest.

“Hyung!” You nearly fell back over as you and Wooyoung jumped apart at his little brother’s excited cry. “Did you finally tell Y/N-ie that you love her?!”

When you looked back at Wooyoung, stunned, he stood stock-still, his expression unreadable under his helmet. The tension could be cut with a knife as silence settled between you.

It was your brother that saved you, head snapping toward you like a meerkat at Kyungmin’s shout. With a quick word to San, he zipped over, calling out to the youngest. “Kyungmin-ah! Why don’t you come help Sannie? He’s having a little trouble.”

“But Yeosang-hyung—”

Before the boy could protest further, your brother grabbed his hand, tugging him across and along toward the rack San was sat beside, leaving you and Wooyoung alone.

“Y/N, I—”

“You love me?”

You both began at once, but your words cut through the air like a war cry.

Wooyoung was quiet for a beat and you squirmed, glancing away to your brother for an escape. He afforded no assistance, his back turned to you and shielding the younger Jung’s gaze in a way you knew must have been intentional.

Finally, he spoke, he voice barely audible over the roar of the lodge activity. “I always have.”

You huffed a sigh, rolling your eyes and shuffling on your skis, starting away. “Of course you have, Wooyoung. Like a brother does, always. Never anything more.”

“No, Y/N, you’re wrong.”

You froze as he called after you, turning over your shoulder to stare at him. He had taken his helmet off, it and his goggles hanging limply at his side, giving you a window into his heart through his warm brown eyes. He swallowed thickly and stepped forward, offering out a hand. His was shaking just as much as yours was as you took it, using him to balance as you popped your skis off. He gave you no time to pick them up before he was in front of you and dropping his helmet to the ground, taking your other hand in his and breathing a quick sigh.

“I wanted this to be romantic and blow you away and this may not be the best time, but god dammit if I don’t tell you now, I might never.” He paused, taking another breath. “It’s been more since I knew what ‘more’ meant. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember—not as your brother or his best friend. I love you for you; for the woman you are, the girl you always have been, and whoever you may become. You are… so gorgeous and so sweet, and I’d do anything to call you mine.”

You were beaming at him, clenching his fingers tight like a vice as he paused. The silence had him squirming, you could see, and you scrambled for something, anything to match his heartfelt confession. In the end, what came out of your mouth was, “All you have to do is ask.”

“Kang Y/N, will you do me the incomparable honor of being my girlfriend?” His grin matched yours.

“Yes, absolutely,” you sighed, breathless between the mountain air and the affectionate tightness in your chest.

The next instant, his lips were on yours, and you grasped desperately at his shoulders as you scrabbled for your footing in the snow. Behind you, you thought you heard San cheer, and you laughed quietly against Wooyoung’s lips. When you parted, breathless for an entirely new reason, you were happy to find your boyfriend just as disheveled, beaming at you like you hung the stars.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Wooyoung.”

Out of sight—not that you would have noticed—your brother held out a fist for Kyungmin to bump.

“What was that you said about ‘never having a chance?’” Yeosang teased over dinner that night, the four of you sprawled out between the two couches in your cabin. You pulled your sweater over your face to hide your embarrassment, snuggling deeper into Wooyoung’s arms.

“Oh, shut up! He’s been your best friend and one of mine since we were kids. How was I supposed to know—”

“You were supposed to trust his best friend and your brother, is what should have happened,” he huffed.

“How did you even know?!” Wooyoung protested. You could hear his glare.

“You’re not subtle, she’s just oblivious.”

“Hey!”

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!”

Yeosang sighed, rolling his eyes heartily and pushing himself up off the couch. “I’m already sick of third wheeling. San, come help me move your stuff so they can have their own room.”

Wooyoung grinned against your neck, squeezing you tight. “Oh, they might regret that,” he hummed in your ear, tapping your thigh to guide you off of his lap. “I’ll help! Sannie can stay.”

Your brother raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a smirk. “Oh, now he’s helpful. A changed man.”

“Only the best for my princess,” he teased, shooting you a wink over his shoulder. You pulled your sweater up over your nose again, grinning and hiding your flush.

An hour later, your stuff had been moved into the upstairs bedroom with Wooyoung’s, and Yeosang and San were gathering their gear. You turned to peer at them over the back of the sofa, eyes wide and innocent. “Where are you off to?”

“We saw signs for night skiing, and he was interested,” your brother explained, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to leave him with mom and dad, so I’m going too. I think Wooyoung was thinking about coming, but…” he gave you a knowing look. “I thought if we gave you a couple hours of alone time, we could sleep tonight.”

Your cheeks heated. “Yeosang!”

“Thank you, bye, have fun!” Wooyoung called as he slid up behind you and looped his arms around your waist. “That’s enough talk about our future sex life. Be safe.”

“Two and a half hours,” your brother warned, giving you both a pointed glance. Behind him, San’s cheeks were tinged pink. “Remember what I said.”

This was directed over your shoulder to Wooyoung who, when you turned, had gone a little pale. The door shut with a purposeful slam and you turned in his arms, cupping his face.

“What did he say?”

“That, uh… If he hears anything, he’ll give our moms the details. And tell your dad.”

“We’d better get it out of our systems while he’s out then, huh?”

You’d watched Wooyoung short-circuit before over Yeosang babbling on about his engineering studies, mostly. Being the reason he did so now, especially when it was enhanced by the pretty pink tinge that rose in his cheeks and ears, was an entirely new and delightful experience.

“Unless you don’t—” you began when the silence stretched, only to be cut off by his lips on your own.

“Absolutely the hell not,” he practically growled, and you felt your knees go a little weak. “I’ve waited way too long to have you—I’m not waiting any longer.”

“Then don’t,” you breathed, stepping back from him and catching his hand in yours as it fell between you.

The two of you practically dashed up the stairs, barely pausing to kick the door shut and lock it before your lips were pressed together again, both hungry for each other. His hands ran up your sides and under your sweater, rucking it up and grabbing at the soft skin he found underneath. Your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, pulling a pretty moan from him that you wanted to hear more of right then and there. He gave you no time, however, spinning you and walking you back toward the bed.

When your knees hit the mattress, you both fell in a giggling heap onto it, Wooyoung caging you in below him with his hands on either side of your head. His lips found your jaw the moment you both settled and he let his eyes flutter shut as he trailed kisses down your throat. There would be time to watch you come apart for him later; now, he wanted to bask in all the pretty little sounds you let out as he worked you up. It didn’t take long before you were squirming under him, hands grasping at his hair while his lips and hands sought each other through the barrier of your sweater. When his lips reached your neckline, he guided you up and pulled your sweater over your head, tossing it to the side, your bra quickly following.

He sat back on his heels, hands on your waist to keep you upright as he drank you in, eyes wide and earnest. You felt your cheeks heat, tugging at the hem of his own shirt to resist the urge to cover yourself. He obliged immediately, the garment discarded like yours, and your hands immediately found his skin. Wooyoung shivered as you ran your fingers up his chest, tracing over the lines of his abs and ghosting over his nipples, delighting at the shiver that lit down his spine and the whine that spilled from his lips.

In the next moment, his lips were on yours and he was guiding you onto your back once more. His hands stopped only to squeeze your breasts and tweak at your nipples in return, pulling a gasp from you and a grin from him, before they came to rest at your waistband, fingers dipping under it. You lifted your hips obediently, your lounge pants and underwear being pulled off and shucked away at once and earning a purr of “Good girl,” from Wooyoung.

You whimpered at that and he grinned, raising an eyebrow at you as he lowered himself between your legs. “Noted,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Sit there and look pretty for me while I open you up, okay.”

At a loss for words, you nodded dumbly, gasping as his lips met your skin again. You melted back into the pillows with a moan as his breath ghosted over your core, hips twitching in anticipation. “W-Wooyoung,” you tried. He grinned wickedly up at you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

Without another word, he was pressing his tongue to you and lapping a fat stripe up your core, flicking his tongue over your clit with a little flourish. You squirmed and he grinned against you, moaning into your heat as you tugged at his hair, silently begging him to come closer. He obliged and buried his tongue between your folds, the curve of his nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he lost himself in your taste.

His hands came up under you to cup at your ass, kneading at the soft flesh as your thighs landed over his shoulders. You whimpered and squirmed, thighs twitching by his ears, and Wooyoung couldn’t think of any place he’d rather be. His fingers prodded against your entrance and he glanced up questioningly as your hips jerked, as if both you and your body were unsure if you wanted more or less. The sight that met him was one of beauty; your hair was spread across the pillows around you and the hand that wasn’t tangled in Wooyoung’s hair had begun kneading at your breast—and Wooyoung rutted down into the mattress with a low groan.

You nodded frantically as he pressed more insistently against your core, and he quickly slipped a finger into you, preening at the sigh you let out. He worked it slowly in contrast to his quick tongue, and the difference quickly had you seeing stars. Eyes still locked on your writhing form, he pressed a second finger in with the first and crooked them up, seeking out your sweet spot. The moment he found it, he grinned, committing the little squeak of pleasure that left you to memory for later.

It took seconds, then, for the coil in your gut to snap, and your back arched off the bed as you rode out your high against Wooyoung’s sinful mouth. His eyes were wide and innocent as he worked you over your peak with no sign of halting, only freeing you from your torment when you tugged him back by his hair. He surfaced with a gasp and a grin you quickly wiped off his face as you crashed your lips against his own.

There was no time for him to react as you shoved him down next to you and climbed into his lap, settling your weight over his clothed cock. He groaned and winced, neglected length throbbing painfully at the sudden stimulation. You giggled and he glared, hands settling on your hips to encourage you to start grinding against him. With a coy smile, you moved his hands back to the sheets and shifted back to his thighs, fingers tucking under his waistband. What you found made you freeze, and you were gifted with another beautiful Wooyoung giggle as he grinned up at you.

“You were expecting this, weren’t you?” You muttered as you tugged his pants down and, just as you had guessed, found no underwear beneath.

He shook his head, expression suddenly softer. “Expecting, never. Hoping?” He grinned like a Cheshire and leaned forward, cupping your ass and dragging you up to press your core against him. “Always,” he purred, darting up to catch your lips once more.

You hummed happily as you ground down against him, the friction welcome but far too little after experiencing his tongue and fingers. “Wooyoung,” you managed between kisses, shifting further up so his head caught on your entrance. “Wanna ride you baby, please?”

He let out a wrecked groan and nodded, wrapping an arm around you to lift you as the other positioned his cock at your entrance. “Wait, shit,” he murmured, shifting under you. You whined, thighs clenching to keep him in place. “Condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” you muttered, grinding against him, “wanna feel you, please.”

Wooyoung cursed, hips rolling up against your own. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

You beamed, pressing another quick kiss to his lips as he lined himself back up. His hands held you steady, setting the pace for you as he filled you inch-by-inch and you whined in protest, brow furrowing. Pressing his wrists down into the sheets, you sat yourself on his cock in one fluid motion, pulling cries from both of you. Ravenous, you slotted your lips against his and immediately began riding him in earnest, grinning against his lips at the squeak he let out.

“F-Fuck, babydoll,” he gasped out, hands returning to your hips when yours grasped the headboard for balance. “Not gonna last if you keep at this—shit.”

“Play with my clit,” you breathed, walls clenching around him at the hungry look he gave in return, “and I won’t either.”

Wordlessly, he nodded, tongue flicking out to wet his thumb before settling over your clit, pushing back the hood before rubbing tight circles over it. You let out a broken shout and he moaned quietly, cock twitching pleasantly inside you.

“G-G’nna…” he gasped, swallowing thickly as he staved off his climax.

You nodded, pace picking up just barely as you chased your releases. A moment later, your walls began fluttering around him and your back arched, mouth open in a silent scream as you plummeted over your peak. The sight of you was all it took for Wooyoung to follow, reaching up and pulling you down into his chest as he emptied into you.

The silence was jarring when you both came back to your senses, only the sound of your heavy breaths filling the space now. You sighed with a smile and let your eyes flutter shut, allowing yourself to bask in the afterglow before the sweat would force you to the bathroom. Your boyfriend held you tight, pressing kisses into your hair as his hands roamed over your back.

“I love you, Wooyoungie,” you murmured sleepily, smiling as you felt him chuckle.

“I love you too, Y/N-ie,” he replied readily.

“This is the best year yet.”

He beamed. “And it’s only day one.”

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months ago

Text

To the victor the spoils

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Enemies to lovers

Rated: T

CW: light blood and violence; steamy kissing; very light dubcon if you squint (they're actually both super into it, I promise)

Tags: Fantasy AU; Magic AU; Guard!Steve; Thief!Eddie; Sexual tension; Flirting; Fighting; First kiss

Notes: Thought that kiss was hot in writing? Wait until you see it! @house-of-the-moving-image did an entire mini comic!

In the end, it’s just the two of them again.

Steve jumps over another groaning pile of half-conscious guards and bursts out onto the roof, cold night air slapping him in the face and making the cape of his uniform whip.

“Munson!” he barks.

He is standing by the edge of the roof, a black cut-out against the starlit sky. As Steve stalks closer, he can see the smile curling at his lips, the amusement glinting in those dark eyes.

“Stevie,” he greets, like they’re two acquaintances who’ve just met on the market square - not the new Captain of the Guard and the city’s most wanted criminal. “My, don’cha look strapping in the new get-up. Congrats, I bet daddy’s mighty proud.”

“Shut it,” Steve growls, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes linger on his golden breastplate, the way it makes a treacherous heat prickle at his neck. “Flattery will get you nowhere. Now give it back!”

He jerks his head at the necklace clutched in one black-gloved hand. Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna. It’s shiny.”

Steve groans. It’s like talking to a five-year-old. A five-year old clad in black armor who’s versed in combat magic.

“It is a priceless magic artifact that’s been in Lord Carver's family for generations-”

“Yeah, and what a load of good they’ve done with it,” Eddie sneers. “High time it got into the hands of someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“Oh, and that someone would be you?”

“Look at you,” Eddie winks. “Pretty and clever. Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta-”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Steve snaps. His sword slides out with a high, metallic sound.

Eddie raises his hands. “Woah, big boy. Careful now, you don’t wanna-”

Steve roars and lunges.

Eddie skips out of reach, but not quite fast enough. A lock of curly hair floats to the ground.

“Oh sweetheart, you're gonna regret this,” Eddie purrs.

And all hell breaks loose.

The air crackles with the taste of ozone, a blinding light erupts from the artifact, and Steve just barely manages to parry. Something whirrs through the air, glides off his blade and a sharp, hot pain explodes all over the side of his face. Something warm trickles down his cheek.

“Hell yeah,” Eddie whoops and comes flying at him, giant shards of solid magic whirling around him, eyes eerily alight with their glow. “That's what I'm talking about!”

The world blurs into a frenzy of movement and adrenaline. Attack and parry, dive for cover behind the towers and turrets and battlements of the roof, attack again. It’s almost comforting in its familiarity, this dance of theirs. Steve knows all of Eddie’s little quirks, the subtle twitches of his face that indicate his attacks before they actually come. They’ve done this so often, he can read him like an open book.

The problem is, Eddie knows him just as intimately. Steve screams with rage, forces his aching limbs to go faster, harder, but it’s no use. Every blow that he tries to land, Eddie blocks, every twist and turn he makes, Eddie’s already there, always with that infuriating, dimpled grin, that amused little quirk of his brow.

Until Steve’s foot lands on a wet patch of moss and he slips.

It all goes so fast he has no time to be terrified - just feels the horrible sense of vertigo as the world tilts and the cobbled street jumps at him. Then, before he can so much as scream, there's arms wrapping around him and he's being hauled backwards, back pressed flush against another body. His blade goes clattering into the shadows.

“Whoops,” Eddie chuckles into his ear. Steve can feel his chest rising and falling with exertion, can feel his hot breath clouding against the shell of his ear. “Thought I told you not to fall for me.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, tries to struggle free, but Eddie has one arm around his chest, the other flush against the hollow of his throat, and he can't go anywhere. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

“Oh, do I?" Eddie’s lips twitch into a smirk against the nape of his neck. “Then why were you holding back?”

“Fuck you!” he grits out, but all it earns him is a low tut. “Now release me.”

“What, without a reward?” Eddie’s voice tingles down his spine, sweet and potent like poisoned mead. “You know how I am about pretty things. And you wouldn't wanna deny the victor his spoils, would you?”

“Asshole!” Humiliation coils hot and heavy in Steve’s abdomen. “Stop joking and-”

Eddie snarls against his ear. “I've told you a million times, honey. I'm not joking.”

Steve’s world spins again, breath punched clean from his lungs as he is flipped around and slammed against the nearest wall. Eddie doesn’t leave him any time to recover, just surges in with a hungry growl and crashes their lips together. When Steve tries to struggle, he bites down on his bottom lip, uses the pained gasp it earns him to lick into his mouth.

Someone moans, but it takes Eddie running his tongue over the roof of his mouth and pushing a leg between his thighs before the sound tumbles out again and Steve recognizes his own voice. They only break apart when they run out of air, both flushed and struggling for breath.

And that is when the door to the roof slams open and Lord Carver and his men push through.

“He went this way! Seize him!”

Eddie lets out an annoyed huff and leans in for one last peck against Steve’s lips.

“Sorry, darling. Gotta go, y'know how it is. See you next time.”

He steps out of his space and the night air hits Steve like a bucket of ice water. Eddie winks at him and steps over the edge of the roof.

By the time Carver and his guards arrive, the night has long swallowed him.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles #phantom thief au

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hier--soir · 1 year ago

Text

tender is the night [for a broken heart]

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: ex-boyfriend!joel miller x f!reader summary: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] jackson era, ex-boyfriend!joel, crying on your birthday, angst, insecurity, joel can't express how he feels, nothing is resolved at the end, a drunk teary dilf. word count: 2.6k masterlist a/n: ouch. was in the mood for angst and hopelessness apparently? it hurt to write so it very well may hurt to read. enjoy!

The table was a disastrous mosaic of dirty crockery and full glasses of wine. Countless empty serving bowls were strewn to the far edges of the wood. Plates crusted with sauces and relishes were framed by purple rings where wine had stained the table. A Victoria sponge with the words ‘another year!’ written across it in a cinnamon dusting—because “we couldn’t figure out how to make icing”. Amidst it all, candles rested on simple saucers, wax dripping down their sides as small orange flames sent plumes of smoke towards the ceiling.

Those glowing flares sent shadows flickering across the table. The light reflected shards of yellow and white on the faces of your friends, highlighting drunken smiles and heavy lids over shiny eyes. Hushed conversation on one end of the table mirrored by raucous laughter and jeering on the other; the people closest to you, come to spend an evening together in celebration.

You were happy. A tingling sensation resided within you, vibrating in the space between the tips of your toes and the top of your skull. And yet, you couldn’t shake the ever-present reminder of something being missing. Or, someone, rather. A large, person-shaped hole existed in the room – in the space beside you. A cold patch of air that should’ve been warmed by an additional body. An empty chair at the the table, with no one to fill it.

The sharp clinking of a fork against glass caught your attention. Sydney was perched at the head of the table, messy haired and wide eyed. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken the time to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen, and now stood over the group, crooked teeth on show as she beamed in your direction.

“Sooo,” she teased, dragging the word out and wiggling her eyebrows jauntily. “We’re here to celebrate a very special person.”

A chorus of cheers and whoops rung out along the table, and that warm feeling of happy, I am happy simmered in your chest again. A—dangerously full—glass of wine was held in your hand, and you sipped the crimson liquid leisurely, savouring the taste as it swum down your throat and into your full belly.

“Our dear, dear friend,” she said your name softly. “You mean so much to us all. No words could describe how grateful I am to have found you in this disaster of a world, and how pleased I am that our paths crossed after so many years of solitude.”

Jesse leant in from the seat beside yours, circling a lanky arm around your shoulders. You dipped your head in his direction to offer up a shy smile.

“You deserve nothing but the best,” Sydney continued, her eyes softening. “Here’s to another wonderful year with you, my friend. Happy birthday.”

You raised your glass into the air, laughing as your friends lifted their own to meet it. Glasses clashed in a boisterous toast, wine sloshing over rims, creating a new pattern of imperfect blots on the table.

“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, motioning for them all to settle down. “This means so much to me, really.”

You paused, soaking in the sight of their faces. Soft lipped smiles and bright eyes, gazing at you with nothing but love. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for the cake, for the wine. It means the worl—"

A sharp knock at the door cut you off.

All heads ticked in the direction of your entryway. Eyebrows drew together, friends glanced around, assessing who was missing from the table. A short, wary giggle loosed from your lips as you placed your wine glass down.

“I’ll, uhh—” you rose from the table. “I’ll go see who that might be.”

Before you’d taken a single step, you noted your pulse quickening.

He wouldn’t, you thought lamely, walking slowly towards the door. Surely, he wouldn’t.

Not today, of all days.

Not after months.

But you were lightheaded from the wine, the critical thinking part of your brain thoroughly fogged. And so you gripped the handle and tugged the door open without properly preparing yourself for if it was him, and then—

He would.

Today, of all days.

After months.

He would, and he did.

You balked at the sight of him. The cool evening air rushed in through the open doorway, and you could see dried yellow leaves smattered across the front porch – victims to the Fall weather. You noticed his boots first, unable to drag your gaze from the ground. Bulky, black boots that stood on the faded wood of your porch decking, crushing those flaxen leaves beneath them.

“Darlin’.” That deep, ache-in-your-stomach-inducing, nauseatingly familiar Texan drawl.

You recoiled at the sound of it, instinctively taking a step back into the house and away from the door, away from him.

He mirrored your movement, feet dragging his body a tedious step forward, until he rested atop the welcome mat. The thick, sour smell of liquor wafted through the air, and the tip of your nose scrunched at the overbearing scent. You finally allowed your eyes to drift up his body; past the wrinkled blue jeans, the dark green flannel, to rest on his face.

His beard was unkempt, curly hair unruly and a little longer than you’d seen him have it in all the years you’d known him. Dark irises bordered by bloodshot whites rested in the middle of his face, framed by heavy blue under-eye bags that hinted at a blatant lack of sleep.

As you took in his appearance, Joel spoke again. “Happy birthday.”

His words had a slow, lilting slur to them, and as he stood there a soft, dopey smile stretched across his face. The crow’s feet by his eyes made your stomach twist into knots, and had you fielding an onslaught of memories of how you used to lay tender kisses against the wrinkled skin, whispering how much you loved those marks.

You were aware of how chatter at the table had died down, silence descending upon the house as your guests comprehended who was at the door.

“Joel,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to mask your tone of stilted surprise. “I—”

“How are you?” he took another step forward, scraping his shoes on the mat as if he were about to step inside.

Instinctively, you shot a cautious glance at your friends. Jesse had risen from his seat and was watching the interaction warily. He’d had his fair share of troublesome run ins with Joel lately and was on guard in an instant.

You ignored his question. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” he paused thoughtfully, tongue darting out to wet his cracked, pink lips. “Could I come inside for a minute, sweetheart?”

The sound of glass breaking snatched the response from your mouth, and Joel’s brow pitched down in concern. The pair of you looked in towards the table, where a red-faced Sydney was clambering to collect broken shards of a glass that had been knocked to the floor.

“Oh,” Joel’s voice came quieter this time, sounding somewhat dejected. “You have guests, I-I’m sorry to, uh, to intrude.”

“We were just having dinner,” you said quickly, heat soaring through your skin as you noticed how his face had fallen, drunken smile nowhere to be found.

It hurt how much you wanted to reassure him. How you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, to tell him that you would never celebrate your birthday without him.

Except you couldn't say that. Didn’t reach out to touch him, or to reassure. Instead, you let your words hang in the air for him to interpret as he wished.

“Right,” he nodded quickly, eyes glazing over a little.

The air felt thick with tension, a heavy silence permeating between the two of you and the guests around the table. Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to gage your reaction. Your chest felt tight, every breath painful as air clawed its way in and out of your lungs.

“Hey,” rough fingers grazed your cheek, and your breathing hitched. “Why're you cryin', sweetheart?"

You hadn’t noticed the tear falling until he swiped his thumb below your eye, brushing away the wetness. The feeling of his skin on yours after so long caused a thick set of tears to fill your eyes. You swallowed them down quickly, sucking your lips into your mouth as you tried to keep it together.

Through blurry eyes you could see the concern on Joel’s face. He still looked so handsome. Even when it was clear he hadn’t been taking care of himself, even when he was drunker than all hell – he was so beautiful that it hurt.

“Why today?” you cursed internally at how feeble you sounded.

His hand dropped away, lips forming your name in a soft exhale.

“Don’t,” your voice hardened. “Just—tell me why you’re here, why today.”

“Let’s not fight,” he said faintly. The breeze shifted towards you, carrying the heady scent of whiskey that coated his breath. “Not on your birthday.”

“We aren’t fighting.” Your fingers sought out the doorhandle again, using it’s sturdy weight to ground yourself.

He was practically swaying on his feet, broad torso tilting slowly from side to side. “Feels like we are,” he confessed, thick eyebrows drawn across his forehead. “Y’hardly look at me anymore when I pass you in town.”

The dull ache in your chest intensified as you noticed tears glistening on his waterline all of a sudden, poised to fall at any moment.

“Joel, I don’t…” you sighed softly, eyes glancing out to the empty street as you tried to steady your breathing. “There’s nothing to fight over anymore – it’s done. It’s been months… I have nothing else to say about it; about any of it.”

He was silent for a long moment, cracked lips pursed as he digested your words.

“I’ve missed that,” he finally murmured.

“What?”

He hiccupped softly. “You sayin’ my name. S’my favourite thing in the world.”

“Jesus,” you muttered, although your heart stuttered at the words. “Can I get someone for you? Ellie?”

“No, don’t—” another hiccup “please don’t tell her.”

“You’re drunk,” you admonished, quiet enough that your friends wouldn’t be able to hear.

His fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, drawing it tighter around himself. He seemed shy beneath your gaze – almost unsure of himself, now that he was actually stood at your door.

“I miss you,” his low voice cracked and trembled. “Thought about you all day, couldn’t stop myself from comin’ over.”

You shivered, wrapping your arms around your torso to protect from the cool wind.

“And?” you rasped wetly. “You still can’t say it, though, can you?”

He stared at you, glassy eyed. His mouth opened, and the words, “I need you” tumbled out.

“God, you’re such an asshole,” you scowled, eyes widening in desperation. “Why the fuck did you come here?”

“Where else would I go?” he implored. “Just wanna be wherever you are.”

You fell silent. Your heart thrashed inside your ribcage, striking rhythmically against your sternum in sharp jabs. It felt as though the crack down the middle of your heart, the one that you’d been working tirelessly to mend, was torn back open, a fresh wound once more.

“You know how I feel about you, darlin’,” he tried, taking another step forward.

“No,” you hissed, feeling almost hysterical as you held a hand out to stop him. “No, I don’t. For years I tried to figure it out, Joel, years, and I’m still at a fucking loss.”

“You’re the one who wanted time apart,” he bit, top lip curling in frustration.

“I never wanted whatever,” his hands gestured wildly between the pair of you. “this is. Never wanted to be away from you.”

You stared listlessly at him. “Yes,” you nodded. “I wanted time apart, because you needed to figure out what you wanted.”

“I know what I want,” his eyes blazed. One of his hands pushed forward and hovered over yours for a moment, dark eyes gaging your reaction before he allowed the digits to rest over yours. He squeezed your hand once, softly, and then held it. “You know it’s not easy for me to… to say these things.”

“It’s not easy,” you choked out. “To share two years with someone and then—fuck—to hold my heart out on a platter, to tell you that I loved you, over and over again, and never once hear it in return." Your chest heaved with jilted breaths, eyes widening as you spoke. "And it was okay, at first; I understood. I know what you’ve been through, but… it scares me, Joel, not knowing. And I trust that actions can speak louder than words, and that you have shown you care for me but… but maybe I’m weak – because I need to hear it. I need to know.”

A tear finally spilled, cutting a fierce line down his cheek, and disappearing into his beard.

It felt like you were baring your insides to him for the millionth time. Spilling your guts onto the ground before him and foolishly hoping that he would help to tuck them back inside where they belonged. Hot, red, pulsating matter that ached for him to take it in his hands, to caress it carefully, and whisper that yes, after all this time, he loved it.

You’d almost forgotten that a room full of people could hear your every word, and yet you found yourself uncaring.

Let them hear it, you thought. Let them see your love, your earnest, your honesty, and let them ache with you as it was not returned.

“Baby,” Joel squeezed your hand again, voice low like a warning. “I do, okay? I do.”

Please don’t do this, his eyes were screaming.

“I don’t want to have to beg you to love me, Joel.”

“Let me come inside,” he pleaded softly, through steadily falling tears. “Let me stay with you. I’ll show you, okay? I just need some more time, sweetheart, please.”

You smiled sadly and raised your clasped hands to your mouth, pressed a delicate kiss to his palm. A glistening streak painted his skin where it had touched your tear-stained face.

And then you let his hand go. Watched it drop down to his side, palm still held up to you. As if that were its naturally resting state whenever you weren’t holding it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, voice thick.

His fingertips grazed your shirt as he reached out again, but you had already taken a step backwards, out of reach.

“Pleas—”

“I love you,” you murmured brokenly. He finally fell silent, wet eyes widening at the words; at the simplicity with which you’d spoken them. “Please get some sleep.”

Joel blinked, wiped tears away with a rough hand. Nodded twice, torso swaying precariously as he spun on his feet to leave. You watched his back retreat, a fresh set of tears spilling onto your cheeks.

He paused then, only once, at your letterbox. Fingertips trailed over the lettering that spelt your name, and he spared a single glance over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear over the soft Fall wind.

And as he departed, boots leaving your porch to stamp heavily across the grass and onto the road, that feeling of loss returned.

So short lived was its departure, and his return. Yet as Joel ventured into the darkness, avoiding the shining light of streetlamps, his absence curled around your being once more, greedily slinking into the space where he had stood.

You met it fondly, embraced the cool feeling as it floated over your skin, stroked your hands and face and held you in its grasp. Something to sit with – something to remind you, as you waited.

And you knew you would. Wait for him, that is.

As long as it took, you would wait, against your own better judgement.

For you loved him. Even when he couldn’t say it back, you loved him.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #my writing #tender is the night [for a broken heart]#joel miller angst #joel miller hurt #ouch #tender is the night

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