#(either way I don't think someone has ever listened to her hearts)

[creativecuquilu]

Look, the twin hearts that beat as one? 

I'm a Time Lord, just as you are.

[irndad]

if you’re still doing flower prompts i’d love either Rainflower or Purple Lilac with spencer <3

a/n: heyyyy im alive! writing from my trip, love you guys, don't know the wc! flower prompts

Rainflower - realizing that you/they love them/you back

It comes on all at once. 

Spencer- he’s never been particularly good at knowing when he’s feeling romantic. There wasn’t any experience with it. He knows that he’s hardly anyone’s dream guy- all awkward gangly limbs, too tall and too full of information that no one wanted to hear.

He’s carved out a little corner of the world that he can be seen in, that he can be loved in- but he’s never really been under the notion that someone could want him. Spencer knows that he’s lucky to have even this- to have people that ignite the prickly and irritating parts of himself and love him despite about this. And while he might fantasize, daydream about a life where he can lace his long fingers with those of someone who sees him only in a loving gaze of joy, Spencer knows that he’s not the kind of person that gets that. He’s being rational about it- most days, he’s able to relegate this desire to be filled with fantasy. 

Except- something has been up lately.

His best friend is probably the best person that he’s ever met in his life. She’s a consultant with the BAU, and it’s been nice to know her, in so many ways. She’s funny and kind in a way that never seems to have a victim. Spencer is not the kind of person that particularly values physical beauty, but she possesses it in such a large margin that it is difficult to ignore. He’s actually distracted by it sometimes, having to take extra mental attention to her words when all he is drawn to is the lovely curve of her Cupid’s bow, and the both light and heavy weight of her gaze in him. I like when you look at me, he thinks. She never makes him feel small. 

When they’d met, he was reluctant to her presence in most regards. Spencer knows that when he is focused, he can be a solitary creature, and that he’s an acquired taste. But she never seemed to need time to acclimate to him. From her first day, she listened to him when he spoke, and god, she squeezed his shoulder when she walked past him. 

She never had to try to like him. He was never a concession to her. 

This morning, she is late to work. He tries not to time it, but he enjoys the ritual of his mornings far more when he’s with her. He makes her tea and greets her first thing, and she asks about his evening the day prior. He tells her about whatever foreign film or Russian book he read the night before, a little too earnestly. She listens with her lovely doe eyes, sipping slowly as she transitions into her day. It doesn’t feel like patience with her- it feels like she actually cares what he has to say. Their routine is a warm radio crackle of familiarity, his favorite part of his day.

But she’s late today.

When she walks in, she’s a little frazzled and  so, so, adorable. She’s in a T-shirt that looks so familiar to him, and a pair of jeans that look lovely on her pretty legs. It’s a pleasure, looking at her. He wish he had more time to do it, wants to leisurely drink in the sight of her like he has all the time in the world, it never feels long enough to look.

Her hair’s frazzled and she’s just about 5 minutes late- Hotch hasn’t even come out of his office yet, but she’s clearly nervous.

“You’re okay,” he hears himself say, as she plunks down her bag on the desk, “I have your tea.” 

He doesn’t expect her to look up, but she does. She looks up at him and beams, and Spencer- his heart swells. She grabs the cup, dainty pretty fingers wrapped around the curve of it, and she beams her so-sweet smile at him, and god, his knees might buckle. Has it always been this way? 

He drinks in the sight of her, as she runs a hand through her hair in a worried, incredibly endearing gesture. She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. He wonders aimlessly, that she might have been meeting with a man this morning. It might be the explanation for the dishevelment. 

The burning bit in his chest this causes is one that lacks explanation. It hurts in a way that he cannot explain- she is not a realistic dream for him to have. It’s not like he’s never thought about the idea of the two of them together. It’s a fleeting thought, like the consideration if your life if you could fly. It’s not a dream that warrants real consideration. 

But when their fingers brush, her light touch on his hand, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she wanted him.

“Thank you, Spence,” she says, warm voice dripping with gratitude and something in his heart warms at the nickname, “You’re my hero.”

She takes a sip of it, and closes her eyes in a contemplative, restful moment. It’s unfairly adorable.

He’s never actually thought about it, until this moment. But her beauty transcends just being pure fact, a thing to note about his reality. It would be nice, Spencer thinks. It hits him like a tidal wave, images of her gorgeous laugh washing over him on a Sunday morning, the curve of her cheek, a world where he can hold her by the dip of her waist, where her ever-present kindness meant that she might, could, maybe, love him.

Love him back.

She has whipped cream on her finger. She took the lid of the drink off to have the whipped cream. 

He is so, so fucked. 

“Have I told you that I love you today, boy-genius?” 

Even though she’s kidding, and he stammers out a reply of acknowledgment, it is in this moment he knows, with the certainty of every empirical journal he has ever read. 

Spence Reid is hopelessly in love with his best friend, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about that. 

It’s still nice to want, though. 

[webslingingslasher]

ok but what if some girl would be saying that she slept with frat!peter after some party (where he was with trouble) and stuff like "oh yeah he had me calling him daddy and he's totally not a boob guy" and trouble overhears her and goes to peter with "you would not believe what i have just heard" and joking that maybe she has magic tits or something

you weren't listening.

minding your own business, pouring liquor into plastic cups, and cracking a can of sprite for a mixer; a group of friends crowded behind you. not listening, but certain words poked out more than others.

"he's fucking jacked by the way, it's like when i hooked up with parker."

your blood ran cold, frozen in place you were straining your hearing for each word to follow, if she didn't add more context you'd be shaking peter by his shirt.

a friend gasps, "you did? when?"

oh, not old news?

yeah, when did she?

flashing your eyes to peter, he's talking to someone and not paying attention. you'll kill him.

"like, around the start of the school year?"

oh thank god, he's in the clear.

"okay, well... spill!"

you can't walk away, your feet are glued to the vinyl floor. maybe, you just want to know if peter's telling the truth when he says you're different than the rest.

"ass man all the way, insisted on doggy. big dick, strong game, threw me around a little, had me calling him daddy and everything. not very affectionate though, i don't think he kissed me, actually. and not a lick of a cuddle after, threw my dress at me and said 'need an uber?' but, hey, i'd still do it again."

another friend cackles, "too bad, nate begged him to do a double date and parker immediately shut it down and said, and i quote, 'no. i have a girlfriend. she doesn't want me dating other girls.' kinda sweet if you ask me."

your heart soars, this is the first time he's ever referred to you as his girlfriend. not that you were, at least not officially, but it's easier to explain than what you actually were, and you had no idea what you were. you assume he doesn't either.

their conversation falls into something else, making you feel confident in moving away from the counter with a full cup in each hand, walking straight to the most interesting man of the night.

peter perking up instantly, leaving his friend with a fist bump, meeting you halfway.

"hi trouble, i missed you." a warm kiss placed on your cheek, you can't help the grin while handing him his drink, "hi handsome, i got a question..." you trail your words off and shift your back against his chest so he'd have a clear view of who you're pointing at.

"see that group of friends, do you know anyone there?"

he barely gives them a look over, one harm slung over your waist, he presses a kiss to your shoulder, "no, don't think so."

nudging him, "no, really. look." a sigh, "looking, no one looks familiar." the back of your head hits his chest, "peter, c'mon. please don't tell me you're one of those guys."

"i don't know what you mean! are you testing me or something?"

turning in his hold, a small pout hangs. "you hooked up with one of them. tell me which one and you earn two brownie points."

that changes things, because now peter knows what the mission is and how to identify previous suitors. mind ticking and eyes running over each body in a different way. watching him analyze is interesting. You wonder what he looks for in a hookup.

"the one in the middle. i'm sure of it, but i can't remember her name. I think it started with an 's' or 'v' maybe 'l'?"

"It's whitney," peter cheers his cup on your shoulder, "oh yeah, that's right."

you spin in his grasp, "liar. i made that up." peter pulls you closer, "you're just so convincing, trouble. call me gullible."

humming, you press a kiss to his chin, "she was talking about you, wanna hear?"

"this feels like a trap, i don't like this idea."

"oh, you should. i heard all about you in bed, and how you told nate i was your girlfriend." peter shakes his head, "i think you've been hitting the sauce hard tonight and you're making things up."

shaking your head like a toddler, "nope, i heard the truth about daddy." peter's head is thrown back with a groan, "alright, wow, we're really doing this. what else did you hear?"

"that you're an ass man, and," you sway on your feet and pretend to twirl a stand of hair, a nasally sarcastic tone rips, "you're like so, super fucking jacked. like, seriously so sexy. ugh! with a big dick too!"

peter presses a kiss to your cheek, "thank you for the compliments, baby." another kiss, the corner of your mouth, "even if you're sarcastic." a delicate kiss to your lips, "and a little wrong."

"which part was wrong? she's right, you've got a fucking wrench."

your cup is pulled from your hand, "alright, it's done. we're done."

a whine, "no! c'mon, please, daddy?"

"i'll silence you and you won't like it."

"will it be with your monster coc-"

a hand is slapped over your mouth, "i'll kill you, and won't have a problem with it."

[steviebears]

Hard to Love

SUMMARY: Seeing Eddie with the beautifully perfect Chrissy was weighing on your insecure heart. Eddie notices and calls you over.

GENRE: angst, fluff (good ending)

WARNINGS: insecure fem!reader

You watched intently from across the hall as Eddie closely listened to whatever Chrissy was saying. He had his arm leaned up against the locker next to hers, the look in his eye was very telling.

Chrissy looked perfect as always. She never seemed to have a bad hair day, or bad clothes day or bad.. face day. She looked too good in that little cheer outfit and you were sure Eddie thought the same.

They were such a cliche.

God, why couldn't you be like her? Be so dainty and cute like she was. You'd only ever be 'one of the guys' to Eddie, you were sure of it. There was honestly no point in pining after him anymore, he obviously had his eye on someone else this entire time. Someone much, much prettier than you ever could be.

You arrived at his door cold and shivering, hair damp and clothes soaked.

You arrived at his door cold and shivering, hair damp and clothes soaked.

You arrived at his door cold and shivering, hair damp and clothes soaked.

"What the- did you bike here?" He looks confused as he ushers your inside, taking your coat off for you.

"My mom has my car and you said it was an emergency." He stares at you with guilt and worry in his eyes, feeling terrible for making you bike in the rain.

"You need to take a hot shower or you'll catch a cold- if you haven't already."

"What's the emergency? Doesn't seem very pressing." You ask on the way to his bathroom.

"It's not urgent. Just- take a shower, love." He said before speeding to his room to grab you a shirt and some pants to change into.

It felt weird, getting undressed in Eddie's bathroom, smelling his shampoo and staring into the same wall he did when he was- that's not important. You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, feeling fed up with the feelings that bubble up every time you are around him.

You entered the room, Eddie's eyes widening at the bareness of your legs. You felt a little embarrassed and set his pajama pants atop his dresser.

-

Your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you stared into the tv displaying some gameshow on a low volume.

"The pants didn't fit." You say out of the blue.

"What?" He asks, eyes not leaving the tv.

"Your pajama pants didn't fit, and then my bra was all wet so I couldn't wear that either. I wasn't trying to be a slut-" You start to ramble.

"What? I never thought you were, what is this about? Is that why you've been so distant? Did someone say somethin' to you?" Eddie shifts up, sitting straighter while his eyes bore into yours. He was going to kill whoever called you a slut.

"No! No. I don't know why I said that."

"It's not like you would ever see me in that way anyway." You say under your breath with a dry chuckle. You didn't expect him to hear it or care even if he had because it was true. He would only see Chrissy that way, obviously. It was selfish of you to think about him the way you did when he was so clearly hers. He shifts his body to fully face you this time.

"What?"

You don't say anything, because if you did, you were sure the lump in your throat would let loose and all of your pent up tears would spring loose. He studied your face closely. It wasn't often- especially now- that he got to look at you so close. The plumpness of your cheeks and the curve of your cheek bones, the shape of your nose and the little space where your brow bone met the bridge. He was looking so closely, that he quickly noticed the quivering of your bottom lip.

You just couldn't stop thinking about how much he probably likes her. And how much you would give for him to feel that way about you.

"Y/n." His tone was so low and hushed, and him saying your name alone was enough for the first droplet to push through the threshold. Your facial expression didn't change, just stayed the same as the first few hot tears rolled down, leaving a wet surface behind them for the cold air to cling to.

His warm hand pulled your face toward him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" You squeezed your eyes shut at your pet name causing more tears to fall.

"Why do you have to do that?" You whisper.

"Do what, baby?" You shake your head.

"Make it so hard to love you." You open your eyes to see the most sympathetic yet confused face you'd ever seen.

"You really don't know?" You almost laugh, it was kind of funny how oblivious he was to how much you loved him. He wanted to speak, to say anything but his throat closed up on him.

"I see the way you are with Chrissy. You don't have to say anything." You look back at the tv in hopes of letting this whole thing go.

"Chrissy?" He was still turned toward you and his eyes were studying your expression.

"I know you like her." His eyebrows furrow. Sure, she was pretty, but so were you. How could he pick Chrissy over his girl?

"But- Chrissy's not even..." He starts, thinking about all the things he loved about you, having a hard time choosing just one to say.

"Right. I should've guessed. Not even she is good enough for you, you'd like someone like the chicks on all these posters you have." You were salty now, just honestly pissed off that you weren't enough.

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't want Chrissy or the girls on my stupid posters." You stay silent, eyes looking through the tv at this point.

"I want you."

You finally turn to face him and make a genuine frown.

"You don't have to lie." Your voice breaks and the tears start up again.

He sits up.

"But I'm not! Why do you think I even hang out with you so much?"

"Because I'm just like one of the guys."

"Do you see me one on one with Gareth calling him my baby girl?" You sigh and wipe away your tears. The look of your puppy dog eyes was breaking Eddie's heart.

"I'm in love with you Y/n. How many more ways do you want me to say it?"

"But Chrissy, she's so pretty." You say slowly in such a heart wrenching tone.

"Who cares? You're prettier, always have been." He nudged your chin up to look at him.

"D'you really mean it?" Your face was still frowning and your eyes were glistening.

"Of course I mean it. You're the prettiest girl in the whole world. I can't believe you don't know that." His words were such a reassuring relief to you that you couldn't help your hands flinging around his neck as you bury your face in his chest. You sob into it, finally able to release all your insecurity. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you as tight as he can. His heart is breaking at the sound of your cries and the dampness of his shirt. He pets your hair as you start to calm down.

When you look up, the two of you are so close you can feel his breath on your lips. God, they looked to plump and soft. As if he was reading your mind, he closed the space between you and pressed his lips against yours. They were as soft as they looked. The kiss was short, seeing as he was testing the waters. But once he pulled away you chased his lips and pulled him in for another one causing him to lightly laugh at your eagerness.

"For the record, I do see you that way. You're driving me crazy wearing my shirt with no pants." He murmurs on your lips, making you giggle and tackle him.

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[starrystevie]

eddie figures out that he likes steve all because of nancy fucking wheeler.

it isn't often that they find themselves hanging out just the two of them, quite the opposite. this is the first time they've ever done it and the only reason nancy is even stepping foot inside the munson's new government-provided trailer is because she's having a crisis.

"but what does it mean," she asks, voice muffled as her lips wrap around the opening of her beer bottle before taking a swig. her cheeks hollow and her eyes shut against the feeling of the carbonation bubbling up before she fixes eddie with a glare that he doesn't think is for him. "it didn't... feel this way with barb."

and eddie's just sitting there on the couch, rolling a much needed joint for both of them, trying to follow along with what nancy is saying. she's pacing a hole in the carpet and her hands are flying around in a way that eddie himself does when the wheels in his brain are spinning too fast.

"... what didn't feel what way?"

nancy glares at him again and he gets the feeling that it's directed at him this time. he feels himself shrink under her eyes and wants to raise his hands up in surrender (he gives in and does indeed raise his hands in surrender).

"i think i'm in love with robin, please try and keep up."

eddie stills, his hands in the air and mouth open in shock. nancy's still muttering about something but his brain is stuck on the being-in-love-with-robin part of her tirade. it's not an issue, not in the slightest, and sure he's heard of people who... but he's never met someone who actually-

"are you even listening?" nancy asks, her tone firm. she has a hand on her hip while the other is clenched tightly around the neck of her beer. "what am i supposed to do?! am i just supposed to kiss her and tell her that her eyes are my favorite color and that i miss her when she leaves a room even for just a minute?"

"how should i know?! i'm not in love with robin!" eddie responds and he knows it's the wrong answer by how nancy's whole face falls in the span of .02 seconds. she looks like she's on the brink of tears, frustrated or hopeless or sad, and eddie doesn't know what to do with that either.

"but... you know. what about steve?" nancy's voice is soft now, and paired with her puppy dog eyes, eddie almost doesn't process what she says. "how'd you know with him?"

and if eddie thought he was stunned before, this takes the cake. a nervous laugh bubbles out of him, his face hot and heart pounding. his arms feel a bit like liquid and he doesn't know if he's even breathing anymore.

"nancy, i'm sorry but i think we're on two different wave lengths here." he needs to do something with his hands so he starts to fiddle with his lighter, flicking the zippo open and shut until the clink of the metal sounds too loud in the quiet room. "i don't.... love steve."

tears start to roll down her cheeks and yeah, eddie definitely messed up somewhere. she's wiping the drops away furiously like she's surprised they even dared to show up and she's biting her lip in a way that looks like it hurts.

"what are you talking about? of course you do." her eyebrows furrow which makes her look even angrier or disgusted and eddie feels like they're on a tightrope in his living room that's about to snap away from underneath them.

"well yeah, i... love him," he stutters over the words, "like i love you and rob and everyone. but not like... love love."

nancy's laugh sounds way too harsh for it to have come out of her. "are you sure? you stare at his ass more than i stare at robin's." she takes a deep breath, ignores the gasp of indignation that her statement gets out of eddie, and tilts her chin up like she's taking the high ground.

"i do not!"

"do too! and you're always looking for him when you walk into a room, like it doesn't matter if we're there, you only look for him. and you sit right next to him even if there's an open seat that's more comfortable. and you have this little, i don't know, tic when he smiles that makes you wiggle your fingers and you-"

"wheeler, you gotta stop."

"-always listen to him and he does all of that back for you and it's so obvious. i can't believe you didn't know you were in love with steve! you do everything that i do for robin and i'm in love with her so it must mean you're in love with steve and- holy shit i'm in love with robin."

the silence after nancy stops rings loud in his ears. honestly, he hadn't really given it any thought before but it makes sense.

the very idea of steve has his heart feeling a way it hasn't since he was nine and tracy nichols gave him a shiny rock on valentine's day. he does always look for steve when he enters a room, his very presence calming and dependable. he does sit next to him no matter what, their sides pressed together, heat radiating between them like a blanket. and god, when steve smiles, he does have to move his fingers, something to get out these jolts of energy that he feels licking through his veins.

steve is good and steve is a bit of an asshole but eddie likes that and suddenly the line between platonic and romantic seems to have vanished because holy shit, how did he live for the past year without spending every day loving steve harrington?

eddie reaches for the half rolled joint, licks at the paper to close it and lights up quickly. he holds the smoke in his lungs for probably too long but couldn't care less because he's now having a crisis of his own thanks to nancy.

"goddamnit," eddie hisses out as he exhales. "i'm in love with steve."

nancy looks smug, her arm extended as she waits for eddie to pass the joint to her before taking a hit. "that's what i'm saying."

"but i'm not... you know."

nancy rolls her eyes. "it's not going to bite you if you say it, eddie."

"i'm not gay."

the silence seems louder now as the paper on the joint sizzles. there's a dog somewhere in the park barking and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"neither am i." nancy responds quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. "but i am for robin. and you are for steve."

she passes the joint back over to eddie and stands up from the couch, wipes off imaginary crumbs from her pants like she didn't just turn eddie's world upside down.

"i think i'm gonna go. i have a lady to woo." nancy looks happy. it's a good look on her, one he doesn't see all that often what with everything that's happened to them in the past year. she deserves it, he thinks, happiness.

"let me know how it goes," he calls to her as she stops at the trailer door.

"i will." with a tilt of her head and a with a gleam in her eye, she gives eddie yet another look that he doesn't know if he wants to try and decipher. "you should call him."

eddie snorts and takes a hit, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at nancy's all knowing eyes. it isn't that he's scared to call steve, it's that he's terrified. petrified. what would he say? what would steve say? he just figured out that he loves him, he hasn't had time to prepare a whole speech to declare it and-

"eddie." nancy's voice is sharp but certain and part of him thinks that robin is a lucky woman to have nancy wheeler falling in love with her. "trust me. call him."

after she's gone, he finishes the joint. he sits in the silence of his trailer and pulls hit after hit of sticky smoke until it's down the end and burning his fingertips. he stares at the ceiling some more, contemplates what to say, how to say it, how to do anything without throwing up.

he wonders if wayne knows, if he saw what nancy saw, what he thinks of eddie falling in with a guy. he wonders if this will change everything. wonders if it'll change for better or worse. wonders if he'll have to skip town and change his name like he imagined doing after he was cleared of murder.

picking up the phone is easy, dialing is easier when he has steve's number memorized like the back of his hand.

"hello?" steve mutters like he's been roused out of sleep. his voice is scruffy and somehow soft and eddie knows he's going to throw up.

"steve."

"hey, man. is everything okay?"

and it makes eddie's heart flutter in a way that a generic question shouldn't but damn it, he's in love. he's allowed.

"yeah, yeah. everything's good i just-" eddie sighs, scrubs a hand down his face to stop from twirling the phone cord in his fingers. "do you wanna maybe come over? watch a movie or something?"

eddie can almost hear the smile in his voice when he breathes out a yes, thanking whatever higher powers there may be for nancy wheeler.

[meanbossart]

ASK COMPILATION ABOUT THE WEIRD DROW

Replying to a couple of shorter questions! Sorry that I can't get to all of you lest this blog just turns into a stream of constant asks, but I read all of your messages and to be honest there are several that I'm saving to draw something for 😭 alas there are only so many hours in a day.

Thank you for all the support and interactivity as always!

He takes fairly good care of things he considers important or useful - otherwise he's pretty messy or at least indifferent to mess. Definitely a "leaves the wet towel on the bed" guy LOL

Okay so I was bad and not used to DnD mechanics or spells the first time I played the game, so I RARELY ever cast Speak With Animals and had very little sense of their personality during his campaign - BUT THERE WAS THIS ONE TIME WHEN I DID.

THERE WAS ONE TIME WHERE I REMEMBERED.

AND IT WAS PERFECT.

He adores and most of all respects this intense little guy with his whole heart.

[MORE UNDER THE CUT]

Serious answer: he respects wild animals far too much to try and make one into a pet.

Non-serious but still true answer: He would never do that and have to deal with Astarion's incessant Drizzt Do'urden joke comparisons for the rest of his existence. That's that man's personal hell.

He's fairly adaptable! But as far as dynamics go, he does lean bottom regardless of who he's with in bed, but this doesn't necessarily translate into always being on the receptive end of things.

If he were to be with a cisgender woman who doesn't wear a strap like its a second pair of briefs, he would be more than happy to be the pitcher the majority of the time. I think the only scenario where he would be dissatisfied is a restrictive one - he couldn't be with someone who doesn't want to enjoy his whole body in earnest, or who can't flip the roles every once in a while. Also, you have to be a little gross. He has probably caught Astarion off-guard with the things he did on a whim/suggested they do more than once. All in all, as long as whoever he's with is versatile and not a prude, they could probably make it work.

He killed Minthara in her lair and all he got was a bear out of it. Good thing killing her was it's own reward!

MAN... Could just be that his story is far too concrete in my brain already, but it's hard for me to see that working. They are both far too out of touch with their emotions and quiet in their demeanor for me to envision a durable romance sparking. Also, DU drow (who has no clue how old he is himself) thinks of Shadowheart as being far too young for him.

There is a mutual understanding between them that there is a barrier that neither of them is willing to let the other get past - and because that is something they both share, they won't, and they might never try. They work so well as friends because of their similarities, but in a relationship I think that would be to their detriment.

Also, I think silver-haired Shadowheart's wants and needs for her future far diverge from DU drow's chaotic lifestyle, ultimately It's probably best for them to make their own paths.

HAHAHAHA LISTEN.... YOU'RE TALKING AS IF THOSE TWO THINGS DON'T GO TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL BUT IN MY MIND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME.

The thing about DU drow is that he might be a bottom, but he's a very... Uh, engaged bottom. He can be as dominant with a dick in his ass as he can be submissive depending on how it jives with his partner- and he's gonna spew some nonsense either way LOL

Either way... I feel ya brother 😔🍑

He did it himself during a dinner Gortash invited him to. At the table. With a meat knife. He was trying to prove a really stupid point/put Gortash off of him.

I have a script for this and I still need to draw it someday! 🤦‍♂️

He doesn't think anything of it now - it's so far in the past and DU drow obviously isn't the judgemental type when it comes to sordid individuals LOL

As a person, however, Astarion likely wasn't the kind of guy that he would have gotten along with, and vice-versa. Sounds to me like he was pretty poshy and did all his misdeeds under the table - DU drow wouldn't have strong feelings about it from an ethical standpoint, but he wouldn't respect it either. Also, DU drow's is practically anarchistic in his political views - soooooo not much room there to be in love with politicians. I'm sure pre-vampirism Astarion would have less than favorable opinions about him as well so the feeling would have been mutual LOL.

ABSOLUTELY NOT HE NEEDS BOTH EYES TO CUT THROUGH FOES he will gladly put Gale on the slab to see what happens though LMAO

[ilyhaitanii]

comforting voices ft. acheron & kafka (seperate)

sfw. there are many things in all of our lives that break us down, make us do things we would never. there's always light at the end of the tunnel, as they say. however, what they don't tell you is that you do not have to walk this treacherous path alone. she is always at your side, holding a torch as you both walk through the tunnel.

a/n: wrote this on a whim. i love acheron and kafka so much, i just had to write smth for my two girls <33

acheron:

"do you think we'll ever be able to adventure home, acheron?" you ask your wife, fingers carding through her smooth hair. she hums nonchalantly, turning to bury her face in your neck and loop her arms around you. the gloomy mood that suffocates your hotel room doesn't good unnoticed by either of you, yet neither of you can speak about it. seeing mr. yang again soured acheron's mood for the evening. it's not his fault entirely, yet you know her heart aches to hug the man again and tell him all what she has witnessed.

"i doubt it," she mumbles against your skin, hands pulling your thighs over her hips. acheron rests against your shoulder, eyes fluttered shut. you rub her temples with your soft thumbs, listening to the way her breath evens out.

"do you think mr. yang knows? i wanted to tell him when we saw him," you express quietly. acheron lifts her head out of your neck, brows furrowed. her gloved fingers trail up your arm, cupping your cheek.

"it is possible. however, i would advise against that. we are to complete this mission and we will leave," her voice is quiet, careful not to break the fragile tension between you both. her free arm keeps a secure grip around your waist, hand under your shirt comfortably.

"you mean i will leave." your words shatter the fragile bubble around you both. acheron feels the shard of glass pierce through her heart. "this is a suicide mission. going up against the family-- this won't end well and you know it," there's anger, fear, yet above all, love in your voice. the soft trembles make acheron slide her hand into yours. she watches the tears pool in your lashes, carefully sliding them away when they drip down the soft expense of your cheek.

"i've come this far. i must complete this," you shuffle away from her, trying to shield your vulnerable complexion from her. acheron quickly pulls you back, needing to feel you in her arms. "there's no way i'll leave you behind. you know this, right?" her fingers lift your chin, planting a soft kiss between your brows.

instantly, you both curl into one another, clutching onto your lifelines. at the end of the day, you both are aware you would follow acheron into the pits of hell. you would allow yourself to sink into the depths of the galaxy as long as it could be in her arms. you would watch each other destroy yourselves just to uncover the secrets of ██████.

kafka:

days when you have mara up flares, you always expect a hellish night. clouded memories pass by your eyes. the horror, blood, pain, agony-- everything all at once. you see it, feel it, taste it, breathe it, live it. kafka watches the way your body tenses and shakes with fear when these nightmares consume your being.

she sees it all with blade as well. she watches the way the mara breaks down a new part of your body with each day that passes. she watches as the nightmare become more intense, more real. she witnesses the blood that drips down your face when you wake up from that dream.

some days even her spirit whisper isn't helpful. you're still shaken, jumpy, far too tense compared to your sunny disposition. as you sit on your bedroom windowsill, gazing out onto the endless galaxy your mind wanders. the day the mara truly takes over your body, what will happen to you?

will you always have to witness these horrid memories constantly? will your heart always feel like it's being ripped to shreds, like someone is pressing on your lungs, like you're being pulled apart by every limb? your thoughts are interrupted by a hand on your shoulder.

you jerk, jumping beside the person. your eyes are blown wide, ready to reach for your sword. except it isnt at your side. you're at home, you're with kafka. you aren't back on ██████. you are safe.

"darling," her honey voice makes your shoulder slack. you walk into her embrace, smelling the expensive perfume she adorns herself with every day. kafka's jacket is draped around your shoulders as she sways you in her arms. "what was it today?" she asks softly.

"nothing new. i'll be fine, dont worry." you mumble against her creamy skin. she hums, rubbing your back and kissing your head.

"i know, but i still worry. come, i made lunch. maybe having something besides coffee in your stomach will put you at ease for a bit," kafka's hand is intertwined with yours as she drags you down the space station halls. you admire the way her hair is down today, elegantly flowing down her slender figure. you speak out her name when she puts her arm around your hips.

"i love you,"

"i love you too, my darling" she leaves another chaste kiss on your cheek. "forever."

© ilyhaitanii - please do not repost, translate, or plagarize any of my content, and do not repost it to any other platforms

[akoyaxs]

Hi! Could I request a fic where the Metkayina are having a festival and perhaps Rotxo, Aonung and Neteyam all had been crushing on our lovely fem!Na'vi!reader and are eager to try and court her so essentially they are all fighting for her attention?

Like reader doesn't notice this at all but the guys all are eager to ask reader to dance, perhaps pour a serving of food for reader to show their intent of courtship, give a gift and such but they don't realize they're all trying to court her until they notice that there's competition?

Perhaps reader is just talking with Tsireya, teasing her about her thing with Lo'ak and is oblivious while Aonung, Rotxo and Neteyam are plotting how to win reader's heart.

Each move they make has them glaring at each other when reader isn't looking and it's just 3 guys trying to win over one girl?

Who do you think would win this fight?

I offer free reign and this could either be sfw or nsfw (both are amazing)

Or.. perhaps alternate endings showing what happens depending on who wins her heart? 👀

Have fun with this, thank you! <3

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

To be fair, you were oblivious at the best of times. It was something Tsireya had always teased you about- like she could be one to talk! And of course, while the two of you would sit giggling in her marui, the next room over, Aonung and Rotxo would be sitting in silence, each pretending to be in their own thoughts and enjoying each others company in silence, but they’d both really be listening for you. For your voice, for the sound of your smile beneath your words, for the tiniest of confessions you felt something for someone.

Nothing ever came, until another contender joined the fight. Rotxo tried to be kind to Neteyam like he was to others, and he buried his worry and jealously just as deep as his feelings for you. And Aonung, oh fiery, jealous Aonung didn’t try to even hide it. That fight on the beach only made his hatred for Neteyam grow deeper, especially the way you had shouted him down after it and then immediately went to apologise on Aonung’s behalf TO NETEYAM.

It was a while until Neteyam and Aonung and Rotxo became friends, and even longer before they finally came clean about what they truly felt. It was then - one night on an abandoned beach, roasting fish by a fire - that they decided on a fair game. May the best man win.

Each was determined, each had their own approach.

Neteyam was helpful, offering to teach you how to shoot a bow, telling you stories about the forest, inviting you to even fly on his ikran with him. (It was a smart tactic given the way you looped yourself all around him until every part of you was against him, yet most of the time your eyes were closed and it was rather clear you were terrified. He decided maybe heights weren’t your thing, and amended his plan).

Rotxo was sweet, bringing you every little thing he could. Little shells and seaglass and stones he found to match your eyes, or your favourite top. Then of course making jewellery with his precious finds, and leaving them in little places for you to find. You didn’t know he was the one doing it, and he was too shy to give it to you at first, but the first time he saw that woven necklace with the pearl on it, he was sure his heart could have burst into flame.

And Aonung, oh ridiculously confident Aonung, wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He had never felt like this - aflame every time he saw you, always occupied by every thought of you, heart thumping wildly everytime your fingertips brushed over him. He found himself seating himself beside you at every party, every dinner, every festival. He would set his leg aside so it would brush yours no matter the distance, revelling in the way you flushed but never moved away. He would keep his eyes on you at every fight, then come straight to you to clean him up and fuss over him, telling him not to fight all the time or next time you wouldn’t help him. (You were lying, the next time he came back, you even gave his neck a little massage when you complained).

It was only at the festival that they decided enough was enough. Your ignorance to their feelings was becoming a little ridiculous now.

So they assumed the positions. Neteyam offering to dance with a charming smile. Rotxo flitting around bringing you drinks and food and everything he could lay a hand on until you placed a hand on his arm with a gentle smile and told him you were fine, why doesn’t he just sit and talk with you for a bit? Of course, Aonung settled himself in his normal position at your side, closer than usual, leaning back on an arm when Neteyam reapproaches, an arm positioning itself just beyond the far side of your waist so he’s half-holding you into him.

And what could you do?

Three of them - one of you?

༊࿐⋆｡˚𖦹

IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...IF YOU CHOSE...

You best imagine that the smile on his face was nothing short of radiant. He would take you straight away from the festivities for a moonlit walk along the beach, halfway through he'd finally take your hand and revel in the ease with which your fingers lace in his. He'd tell you why he likes you, how long he's liked you, just how beautiful you look in the pale moonlight. Shortly after which he'd kiss you, and you'd melt straight into him and never leave his arms again.

He's never been more excited. more nervous. more terrified. Truth be told, he had never really thought this far because he'd never be self-assured enough to think you'd actually choose him over Neteyam or Aonung. But under your gaze and smile and gentle squeeze of his hand, he stammers everything he likes about you and the whole truth about everything and then, nervously...

"Can I kiss you?"

It's sweet, gentle, tentative. He breathes you in, his hand tangling in your hair, revelling in the way you smile against his lips, or the way your hair smells like coconut.

Oh, and he 100% asked Can I be your boyfriend now?

Oh, Aonung would never admit he was surprised. But the feeling of relief when he knows you chose him takes him by surprise. Instantly he's bundling you the fuck away from other people, a wide grin stretched across his face, holding you as close to him as possible until you're safely behind the woven curtain of your marui. Best believe you got some good dick that night, but also the from gentlest, kindest version of Aonung you have ever seen. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, forehead pressed you yours, lips never leaving your skin, whether it be your lips, forehead, neck, breasts, collar, cheek, jaw, literally wherever they can land.

Also he would confess everything to you while he's inside and close, sort of like a Simon and Daphne moment from bridgerton but ONE HUNDRED times better because you all know that I might like Aonung just a little bit >-<

[tiyoin]

Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).

Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm

I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.

I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.

I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.

Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"

When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.

Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"

I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.

Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is

YOU

hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵

i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖

no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.

i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know

BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)

but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;

twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.

none.

maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.

they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎

honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.

so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!

they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.

there’s absolutely no where you can go.

and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔

AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING

“everything stays” from adventure time

“love all mine” by mitski

“rises the moon” by liana flores

“sky fall” by adele

“memory” from cats

“listen” by beyoncé

“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john

oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG

but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD

ROOK IS AWE STRUCK

such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.

of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.

and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.

ah, you fled.

to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.

the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.

rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.

so let this be your little secret, okay.

jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’

OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS

readers just like;

😟

“time to find a new location☝️”

*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*

TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️

please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻

babes this is me n u rn:

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.3

John having to get high out of his mind because he knows he's invited Paul to come play with him is so so sad. These are the same guys who used to sit facing each other on a bed playing guitars for hours, and now this is them?

Is John calling Paul “Jack Lemon” a reference to “some like it hot”? Because if so, I have questions. Anyway, when your estranged best friend shows up to hang out with you and a bunch of people, talking about being in love again and getting jizzed on is extremely normal and acceptable behavior.

This jam session is so fucking painful though. Paul's doing his best to just push through and get them to actually play something and John's just too far gone.

My theory: there's two reasons he did this. 1. He's avoidant and the last thing he's going to do is let on how bad he needs John in his life and how scared he is that if John gets back with Yoko that that'll be difficult. And 2. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't. If he'd kept it from John that Yoko wanted him back and later John cried to him about how much he missed Yoko or something? Paul can't have that.

John singing a snatch of Yesterday before a take of “Whatever gets you through the Night”??? Did either of them ever write a song where they weren't thinking about the other? Did they ever have a minute of peace without the other rattling the bars of the cage in his brain?

“Hold me Darling, come on, listen to me. I won't do you no harm.” Duh it's about Paul. Oh my gosh.

And with Bless You I'm always so torn. There are so many obvious references to Paul which the doc points out beautifully, but situationally it could also be about Yoko. Maybe it's about both of them in the same way that don't let me down is about both of them.

Anyway the cosmic visuals are gorgeous.

Why'd you have to phrase it like that though? Twice?

Hall of Fame moment. It's a high point for him career-wise and he chose to pull Paul into his spotlight. Not only to sing Paul's song, not only to name-drop him, but to publicly call him an official romantic title. Not “boyfriend” or “ex-wife” which both could've been much more mocking if that's what he was trying to do. But “fiance”. It's official and respected, but it's still got the lustful, unsettled, connotation that something like “husband” lacks.

Johann Weener, everyone. What a loser.

Everyone who still refers to Lennon Remembers like it's the fucking Bible listen to this. It doesn't go on for the next five years, let alone fifty.

John refusing to walk to blocks to sign the papers when George and Paul flew over the ocean. And only on the basis of astrology. He really didn't want the divorce. My heart aches for him. But he made his bed as they say.

I'm putting on my tinfoil hat again here, but I do just have to point out that one of John's first songs, “Hello, Little Girl,” has a line that goes, “you never seem to see me standing there”. And the earliest draft of WISHST, which was started soon after, answers that line. “I saw you standing there.” (Yes, it said you originally, not her). So maybe. Just maybe. That song wasn't just a Paul song, but a song that John knew Paul had put a message in for him. Okay, I apologize for the insanity. On another note, I do wonder if he ever found out what Paul thought of that.

Interviewer: ≈ at this point, do you like writing by yourself, or do you want to write with Paul again?≈ John: ≈well it's a bit of both. It's the same for Paul. We were talking about it a week ago. Okay, cool. So they definitely talked openly and honestly about potentially writing together again.

John, about their partnership, “There was always the feeling that someone was there if you needed it.” Paired with the gayest picture ever taken and then Paul singing “if I can do anything at all, let me help.” Thanks. I hate it.

John was so excited for New Orleans! What happened? I mean I have my theory based on May's book and the sudden shift in behavior. But it's pretty dark.

You know how crazy Paul is about John in interviews now? How he can't seem to keep John's name out of his mouth? John was worse in the seventies. He's promoting his Rock’n’Roll album, talking unprompted and romantically about how he met Paul, when the interviewer reminds him what relationship he's supposed to be romanticizing right now. So John remembers too and dedicates the album to Yoko who he's just got back together with.

Biconic quote.

Interviewer asks, after John's brought him up, if John's pleased with how well Paul's doing. John expresses his relief that Ringo has "found himself a niche" and then

I really do think that last bit sums up a big chunk of how John feels about Paul, and why he feels alright playing dirty against Paul or slagging Paul off. Why it would have been the furthest thing from his mind that Paul actually struggled or was insecure. Why Paul had to remind him, “I'm only a person like you, love.”

What an insane thing to think, let alone say. What if Julian had heard that? I'm pretty sure Julian and Paul weren't in contact, really at all, until the eighties, right? So John's doing better than he is at this point (I mean he's his dad, he should be). John is insecure about every possible thing and compares himself to Paul in every possible way.

Baby. He needed some serious help. The thing that sucks about being ahead of your time is that you also have to live in a world that's behind your needs.

And then. “There's always a friendly tv channel to turn to that's going to make you feel less alone.” I wonder if Paul “Call Me Back Again, John I know you're not that tired from the baby just let me in the fucking door” McCartney heard this? It's possible with how obsessive they were, but it's also impossible with how busy he kept himself.

Okay, here's the first story we've been missing about Paul experiencing negative emotions. And, of course, as always in this doc, it's paired perfectly with “Don't Let it Bring you Down” which is the musical mission statement of Paul's clenched-jawed smile philosophy.

"I tend to get a bit absolute in my statements." Yes, John. Yes you do. Another quote that Big Lennon fans should keep in mind.

John on the three weeks he took to decide if he wanted to continue the band after the first Hamburg trip: The others were mad because we could've been making money. Yeah, John, Paul suddenly had to work in a factory after he'd thrown away an educated, white-collar career (the first in his family) to be in your band. I'd be pissed too if you just didn't even bother to call. Anyway I just hate how casual John is about it. Someone who never had to worry about money is just never going to get that.

John doesn't even remember a ballpark number of how much they were making. Paul remembers exactly bragging to his professors that he was making fifteen a week in Hamburg. Sorry to go on and on about this right before Paris, but to me it's an important difference between them.

Anyway, the fact that Paris was more than just a vacation for them. The fact that – according to Stuart and John at least – they might not have come back. It's dizzying. They really thought about just running off together. I wonder what made them decide to come back and continue the band.

No offense if you do, but I don't personally believe in this stuff. What would the motivation have been for the tarot reader to tell him that? Either way, fuck him.

Gosh the live version of “Call Me Back Again”. You feel it, physically, how bad he wants this phonecall. And the desperation from such a successful man is fantastic. Literally, John, how did it feel to be the only man in the world that could get Paul McCartney to beg? “Pretty baby” “what can I do?” “Boohoohoo babe.” “I tried the operator, but I just can't get through.”

Reporter at the Wings over America tour: No John Lennon, no George Harrison, and no Ringo Starr, just Paul McCartney. And for everyone here tonight, that seemed to be plenty! Obviously he's loving this praise after all the negative press. Anyone would, and Paul needs it more than most people actually. But I bet part of him is like “stop. Don't say it like that, they already hate me enough as it is.”

How many times has John admitted that he finds Paul attractive? “It was no surprise, you know, when the kids – girls saw him, they go ‘ooh! Ooh!’ right away, you know?”

“I know it's true. It's all because of you.” Playing over this? Are you kidding me? Anyway I've never seen the picture version of this, so I thought I'd screenshot it.

But actually, in a way, the original written lyrics to Now and Then are less depressing than what he sang on the demo. “I know it's true, I'm still in love with you, and if I make it through, it's all because of you,” is obviously sad because they're both married to other people. But at least in that version, John's saying his own personal resilience to life's struggles comes from his relationship with Paul, which is nice. Whereas when John, who is sliding into a self-hating deep depression I'm comparing himself to Paul's phenomenal success, sings “it's all because of you” in a general sense, it almost feels like a callback to the ‘I'm shit and I couldn't do anything but be a Beatle (and ride Paul's boat)’ quote. Which is heartbreaking. I wish he could've recognized his own genius.

But yeah either way it's enough to make your heart heavy. If anyone needs a good cry, just go to the last five minutes of this. That should've been the now and then music video, but Paul's too scared of feelings. Which. You know. Considering how much it affects me, I can't even imagine how much it affects him. So he gets a pass.

“Why must we be alone? It's real love. It's real.”

[bluehourbucky]

Oooooo yes. Oki it's a bucky/reader

Reader was an asset at the same time as bucky and her orders were to keep him safe at all costs, so even if it ends with her taking a bullet. So they've had an intense relationship and hydra being hydra uses it against both of them.

Fast forward to the snap, she doesn't get dusted and manages to escape hydra. She meets nat who helps with her trigger words. They don't fix her since shuri is gone but ends up tweaking it so she's really only listening to her handler- nat or bucky as that's a default lol.

Come to the blip and her and bucky reunite and he has some lingering winter solider tendencies when it comes to her and being protective af. So Sam being sam notices it and gives bucky shit. He snaps and essentially says that she reminds him of hydra and can't stand her.

So typical angst troupe. She avoids him until they get put on a mission and she gets triggered. So bucky ends up taking care of her. Can be smutty lol. Like any part of this can be used. Doesn't have to be the whole thing lol

a/n: Hope you don't mind I simplified it cus I think I'd need more than one part to write all of this properly!!!

Hope you enjoy reading this I put all of the angst into it 😅😅

Sorry this is so long 😅😅😅

MY FIRST REQUEST EVER!!!!

To forgive

pairing: bucky x exhydrasoldier!reader

summary: tension between you and Bucky is unbearable and when a misson goes wrong apologies are in order

warnings: f word couple of times / angst a lot of it

masterlist

_______________________________________

Sam actually doesn't know how he managed to get stuck with not one but two super soldiers who have a staring problem but this is his reality right now.

Recently you and Bucky have been staying with Sam since you two could not live with each other alone anymore.

Bucky became your roommate after everyone came back after the snap.

At that point you were 5 years free of Hydra and mostly recovered, you had been found by Natasha and she had helped you a lot and so has Steve. Steve already had experience watching his friend struggle with what had Hydra done and his heart ached seeing his friend in you. The same lost and broken expression made him sad.

They did everything they could, Natasha and Steve even bought you to Wakanda but without Shuri the progress was slow but it was still progres.

Steve before leaving talked to both you and Bucky and suggested you two could help each other out since there was no one else who could understand more what you two had lived through.

It had been good in theory but in practice it was not.

Buckys' recovery was way past yours, and it frustrated you, you were angry especially because you still had this need to protect Bucky at all times.

Being Hydras punching bag was not fun, you didn't blame Bucky it wasn't easy for him either but he was so precious to them that they needed someone to protect the most important asset. It wasn't like you were the only one, you just survived the longest. There had been many before you, who had been removed or just killed in a mission to protect The Winter Soldier.

To Bucky, you were just a reminder of the torture he had survived. Some nights neither of you slept because the same nightmares haunted you, and yet you didn't talk to each other.

You both remember very little about each other from your time in Hydra, the pain is the only thing you both remember so clearly.

It had become impossible to stay together the night when Bucky had a nightmare and you had tried to help, it was awful. That night when Bucky woke up he had thought he was back at Hydra because he saw you. He yelled and screamed and even attacked you, telling you to let him go, and you didn't even defend yourself immediately going back to your training with Hydra.

"Protect the asset no matter what. your life is not important, the winter soldier must be saved. Do not hurt the asset or you will be punished."

That night had changed everything. The weak friendship that you've had with Bucky vanished and all you ever did was fight.

"The dishes aren't washed princess."

"Can the Winter Soldier throw out the trash sometimes?

"Does princess need to be reminded to not use all the hot water."

Oh but the missions are the worst for everyone.

Sam started to bring a spray with him whenever you and Bucky even try to speak to each other because sometimes it is so unbearable that it could ruin the mission.

Sometimes against your wish you jump in to protect Bucky, the Hydra training instincts rooted deep inside you.

"You don't have to protect me!"

"I don't have a choice here asshole! If it were up to me I wouldn't care less if something happened to you!"

But when Bucky had jumped from an airplane without a parachute your heart had dropped. And it was not because your instincts had kicked in, you had watched the man you've been protecting many decades jump from an airplane that was like 30000ft in the air!

You put a parachute on you and brought one with you and jumped after him.

"Dumbass you forgot something!" you had yelled over the wind catching up to Bucky.

He'd ignored the parachute you tried to give him and left you to just watch him descend.

You have no idea how he survived but you were pissed off and were ready to kill him yourself.

"ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU JUMP WITHOUT A PARACHUTE!"

"WHY DO YOU CARE IT'S MY PROBLEM IF I JUMP OR NOT!"

"NOT IF YOU ASK ME! I LOST MY LIFE TO PROTECTING YOU AND YOU DO THAT! YOU'RE SO SELFISH!"

You had pushed him hard enough so he stumbled a bit but that's only because he didn't expect it. Bucky had also received a slap to the face which Sam might have enjoyed way too much. It had caused an actual fight between two of you and it took Sam 30 minutes to separate you. By the time you had to fight people you had come to fight in the first place you and Bucky already had battle wounds.

Tonight you're in Madripoor and the plan was that Bucky pretends to be The Winter Soldier, it made you nervous.

Sharon had give you a dress and some flat boots in case you needed to run, Bucky and Sam had received some very nice suits.

When you saw Bucky in a suit your heart flipped at the sight of him. You've never seen him in a suit before and you weren't sure how to feel about it. He looked handsome, it's not the first time you had that thought but usually there was annoyance clouding any other thoughts about Bucky.

When Bucky looked at you as you exited the room you were changing in his brain and heart malfunctioned. He'd never seen you in a dress before, you preferred clothes that covered your body completely - the scars on your body made you feel very insecure - Bucky was the same the more his body is cover the less attention he has on himself.

But God, have you taken his breath away. It isn't like he thinks you're ugly, you're gorgeous, and if you had known each other back when he was himself and before you had been brainwashed to protect him he would've loved to have taken you to a dance. Unfortunately your situation was too complicated and it had made it impossible for you two to have any kind of relationship not only romantic.

Bucky and you have a very awkward moment where you made eye contact and then quickly looked away. The tension in the room grew to a 100 real fast.

"So ugh about the plan." Sam coughs to fix the awkward vibe that has enveloped the room.

While Sam is explaining the plan you and Bucky glance at each other when the other isn't looking and Sam pretends not to notice.

The club is crowded and the atmosphere changes when people start to notice The Winter Soldier.

You're on edge the entire time.

Suddenly a fight begins but all you hear are the trigger words which do not affect Bucky but you're entirely a different story.

As Bucky was about to get punched you had jumped in front of him stopping the hit with your hands. You break the the guys hand and turn around to hit another big guy.

"Get out of here I will take care of this."

"No you won't."

And when you don't Bucky pulls you by your hand and you have no choice but to run with him.

When you finally arrive at a safe destination away from everyone who's trying to kill you Bucky turns to you.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS? WHAT HAPPENED IN THERE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WAIT! ARE YOU SO STUPID YOU CAN'T FOLLOW SIMPLE INTRUCTIONS?"

You only stare back at him not even blinking.

"Bucky stop she's not okay can't you see?" Sam puts a hand on Buckys shoulder backing him away from you.

"She fucked up she wasn't supposed to engage."

"Bucky look at her."

That's when Bucky notices that you're not looking at him you're looking at the floor, your hands behind you as if waiting for punishment.

And suddenly it clicks, your trigger words. Some of them were the same as his.

"I'm so sorry. I- I didn't notice I'm so sorry."

You stay in your place not moving an inch.

Bucky tries to touch you and at first you flinch, he doesn't know what to do - he hugs you, surpsing himself.

He stands there his arms tightly around you.

When you finally come back you start sobbing and Buckys heart breaks. He was supposed to know better.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I should've known I should've said it was a bad idea I'm sorry."

You're shaking in his arms and his heart breaks a little more with every whine.

It takes you 45 minutes to stop crying and that's only because you've exhausted yourself with crying.

Bucky carries you to a dodgy motel that him and Sam found. Your limp body in his arms makes him feel incredibly guilty. He feels awful, he'd been awful to you for months and you're right he's been selfish. Bucky can only hope you can forgive him.

You wake up with a headache the light coming through the window indicates that it's for sure not early morning. The sun is gentle and you can tell that sun is about to be gone. To the right of you there's a night stand and to the left is Bucky sleeping on a chair, sitting up.

You notice that you're in Buckys shirt and your pyjama pants.

"Hey."

You turn at Buckys voice.

"Hi."

"I'm sorry about last night I was out of line. I've been out of line for a while. And I'm really sorry I've put you in danger-"

"Bucky..."

"No I need to say this, please."

you nodd.

"There's so much I regret but I regret putting you in danger and giving you shit the most. I've done nothing to make your life easier I've only made it worse. And you were right I was selfish. I was in my head too much and you're the only person who completely understands what I've been through. Last night shouldn't have happened but I was stupid. I hope you can forgive me and I'll do everything in power for the rest of my life to make it up to you."

"Bucky... I-... What happened to us is not fair and we both did stuff we regret, I also wasn't fair to you. I'm not okay. I haven't been a while and last night wasn't your fault. I'm sorry too. I'm sorry for calling you The Winter Soldier and for hurting you purposely. And you have nothing to make up for nothing that happend is your fault."

Bucky and you stand in silence for a while each trying to process words and the situation you're in right now.

"Fucking Hydra."

Bucky breaks the ice with that statement and you both laugh.

"Bucky, could I ask you for a favour?"

"Anything."

"I haven't been well for a while and last night only showed how much I need help. I'd like to go to Wakanda so they get me in cryo to fix my brain. Please be there for me when they put me under and when they wake me up."

"I promise."

True to his word Bucky is there when they're preparing you for cryo.

"It's going to be okay. These people are the best they know what they're doing. Besides they had their experiment animal way before you!"

"Oh shut up..... Thank you Bucky. I'll see you when I wake up?"

He smiles and gives you a tender hug full of emotions but mostly love.

"I promise."

The last thing you see are Buckys blue eyes looking at you softly he doesn't let himself cry.

The next time you see Bucky is when your new life begins.

_____________________________________

[THE END]

This is gigantic udhdhdudud I'm not sure If I should've written so much but it was fun?

Likes reblogs and Comments are appreciated <3

[mayajadewrites]

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

story summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

ao3

C H A P T E R E I G H T : T O M O R R O W

WARNING: explicit scenes in this chapter!! let me know what you think :)

Levi lead you into his living room that you were all too familiar with. His expression was... blank. You couldn't tell if he was sad, mad, or anything in between.

You sit on the couch opposite to the chair he's sitting in. "Levi, I-"

"You should know this," Levi looks down. "I'm not the best at... well, talking. My mother is someone who was... so special to me." 

"Levi." You press your hand on top of his. "I'm here to listen." 

Levi sighs as he sits back in his chair. "My mother and I grew up poor. Like, dirt poor." Levi started talking. It feels like it's been forever since you and him had an actual conversation instead of just arguing. "We were couch surfing and squatting in abandoned houses. Then, she got sick. We don't know what it was since we couldn't afford to go to a doctor. We couldn't even afford food. I was starving every day. Dreaming of bread." Levi looks down. "One day, she wouldn't even attempt to get out of bed. Or even talk to me. I remember her telling me about her brother, my uncle, and I had his phone number written down. I begged the corner store to let me use their phone, and thankfully they let me."

Your heart sinks thinking of how lonely Levi felt. How he was lacking basic needs.

"I called Kenny and he came and stayed with my mother during her last moments. I stood on the other side of her with my hand in hers. I remember her saying, 'Kenny, please take care of my Levi.' The pressure I was feeling from her hand suddenly just... disappeared. My mother's body was still there, but her soul was gone." 

Tears start to well up in your eyes. Levi's eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke, his deep voice cracking when he spoke of the final moments with his mother.

"Then I went and lived with Kenny. Which... wasn't the best either. He fed me, but he wanted me to learn to fend for myself. I would cause fights in school and Kenny had to beg them to let me stay." Levi cleared his throat. "He didn't know how to be a parent. I don't blame him. His sister died and left behind me. My father, who the hell knows who he is - Kenny felt he had no choice. But he did have a choice. He could've just-"

"Levi, he could not just leave you."

"He could've."

"But he didn't. You're his nephew, I'm sure he saw you and saw some of himself."

"Well, when I turned 18, he left. He told me I was an adult now and I had to figure life out. I was being... well, to put it lightly, a delinquent when I met Erwin. He's a tall, well kept man and I wanted to steal from him. He looked like he had money so he was the perfect target. For whatever reason, he wanted to be my friend. He's been in my life ever since." Levi finally looked at you. "He opened his home to me. He fed me. He taught me the ways of being a business man."

You didn't know how deep Erwin and Levi's friendship was. They're bonded brothers.

His mother left, Kenny left - no wonder he likes to leave. Must be an Ackerman thing. 

You stared into Levi's eyes - watching the storm brew. Your heart sank as you explored his face, your feelings for him resurfacing.

"Now you know why I am the way I am." Levi put his hands on his knees. "I don't blame you if you want to leave."

"Levi." You walk over to his chair, slowly sitting on his lap. "Do you want me to leave?" You gently wrap your arms around him. 

"I think you want to -"

"Answer my question." You grab his chin, pulling his face towards you. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Levi shook his head. "I never want you to leave." 

You felt like there was life brought back to you. The piece of your heart that broke off when you left Levi mended back to you. 

"We have to start over then." You caress his face gently. You wanted to just hold him during this vulnerable moment. "Like, we're going on dates. Almost like we were never together." 

"Hm?" Levi tilted his head. "But we did date... for 2 years."

"Levi. Do you want to make this work or no?" 

"I do." 

"Then we're starting over. I don't want us to jump back into this and make the same mistakes." 

Levi nods, letting his hand rest on your thigh. "Are you sure you don't want to leave? I'm giving you an out." 

"Levi Ackerman." Theres attitude in your voice. "If I wanted to leave, I would. I have before - remember?" 

"I'm sorry I made you leave."

"Shhh." You pull Levi into your chest, letting him lean on you. You felt his eyelashes flutter on your skin as he closed his eyes. His breath is slow and you know he's listening to your heartbeat. He's always loved cuddling in your chest and feeling your beating heart. Levi starts to bury his face in your breasts, his hands traveling up to your waist.

"Hey," You giggle as Levi grabs your left breast with his large hand. "Levi, this isn't the right time to be-"

"Sh." Levi demanded. His fingers pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your plump breasts. They bounced as they were released from the captivity of your shirt and Levi is mesmerized. He brought his lips to your right tit, sucking on your skin roughly as he squeezed the other. You throw your head back at the contact. Levi has always loved your chest and he likes to take his time there when he can.

"This isn't a part of starting over." You breathe.

"We can start over tomorrow." Levi mumbled as he unclipped your bra without looking. His mouth attached to your nipple, sucking it gently. You feel the wetness in your pants already as Levi sucks, bites, and licks all over your tits. 

Levi sits you on the chair, his large hands trailing down your upper body to the buttons of your jeans. He's on his knees now as he pulls your pants off, throwing them across the room. "My favorites." Levi hums at the sight of your black lace panties. "Too bad they're coming off." Levi almost rips the panties off of you, revealing your soaked pussy. 

He marvels for a moment, watching your arousal leak from you. You throw your head back as your core starts to throb. "Levi-" He cuts you off by inserting his tongue inside you. You gasp as you feel his tongue exploring your pussy, finding your clit soon after. Levi wraps his hands around your thighs as he devours you, his lips squelching against your core. 

Levi wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently as he inserts two fingers into you. You bury your hands in his hair, pushing his face farther into you. You felt him smile as you pulled on his hair, something he's always loved. He pumped his fingers in and out of you quickly while his mouth was solely focused on your clit.

"I could eat this pussy all day." Levi hummed, the vibration from his words only adding to your pleasure. "This pretty little pussy."

"Levi." You moan, wrapping your legs around him as your toes begin to curl.

"I love when you moan my name." His fingers started to pump faster as your walls began to pulsate. "Can you come on my fingers, princess?" 

You nod silently as you feel the high quickly approaching. Your chest feels tight as the world begins to fade away, leaving only you and Levi. His tongue lapped your dripping arousal as you reached your high. Levi doesn't stop though, he keeps sucking on your clit until he wants to be done. You came on his fingers, his mouth - practically his entire face.

"Levi, I need you inside of me." You whine.

"You want my cock inside of you, my princess?"

"God, yes." You nod. Levi's mouth leaves your pussy and he picks you up and lays you on the couch gently. His shirt is off quickly, along with his belt and pants.

You watch his cock spring out of his pants. Every time you see it, you're mesmerized.

"Are you sure?"

"We'll start over tomorrow." You nod a Levi's arms are on either side of you. You feel the tip of his cock at your slit, easily sliding in due to your arousal. Levi lets out a husky moan as he feels your gummy walls wrapping around his cock.

"You were made for me." Levi starts thrusting into you. "This pussy fits me so perfectly."

"Baby, it's all yours." You stare into Levi's eyes. He presses his lips to yours roughly, leaving sloppy kisses as he thrusts inside you faster. You wrap your arms around his neck as he watches his length disappear inside of you, stretching your walls. You'll never get used to his size, no matter how many times you fuck.

"Princess, I need you to come again. Before me." Levi grunted as he slammed into you. He attaches his lips to the side of your neck, biting and sucking until your skin is purple. He then brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing it gently. 

You throw your head back, feeling your walls pulsate once again. Levi's thrusts start to become uneven as he feels you grip him, which means he's close.

"I'm not coming before you." Levi rubs circles on your clit. Your toes curl as Levi is almost overstimulating you - but that high comes back. 

"Levi." You practically yell as the hardest high of your life hits you. You see stars as Levi slams into you again and again. 

"Where should I come?" Levi whispered.

"Inside." You whisper in his ear, which causes him to lose all the control he had left. He coats your insides with him as he comes, gripping your hips tightly. Levi fills you up with his cum and somehow there is still more. 

Levi pulled out slowly and you whine at the now void. He pulls his pants on and grabbing a towel from his hallway closet and helping you clean up.

"So... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." You press your lips to his gently, letting your worries melt away.

[yvannahaleth]

Kokichi Ouma, Rantaro Amami, & Miu Iruma x Sad! Reader

When you're feeling down, they're here, for you and you only. Do you feel loved now? Fluff, SFW, GN! Reader

Note: Speedran this when i was in a bad mood. They're my faves in DRV3.

Kokichi Ouma:

I think he's the type of person that IMMEDIATELY knows when you're not feeling like yourself and will IMMEDIATELY act right away

Like, you could be denying the fact that you need a hug right now yet he will still tease you, knowing your true need.

He will act funsie and all if you're still denial, he'll joke about how closeted you are to *him* of all people. Maybe he's a little offended that you don't have the need to tell him what you truly feel.

Yet, if you stay silent, which confirmed his guess of you feeling down, then afraid not! He's here.

What do you need? A hug? A kiss? A cuddle? Or just a reassurance? A rational solution to your problem? Someone to listen?

He won't show it, but he'll do anything this instant.

"Well, if that's what you really wanted. I'm your leader, after all. Who am i to reject a wish from my second in command?"

The frown on your face sickens him. It throbs his heart to see you feeling down.

So, even if you deny it, he wants to get rid of it. Anything that upsets you. Or, just that feeling. Whatever you choose.

Rantaro Amami:

He has plenty of younger sisters, of course he had times where one of his sisters is in a bad mood. Which is why, he can tell when you're in one.

You don't need to tell him, he'll know.

He might do a little run to the kitchen as soon as he sees you feeling sad. Then came back with your favorite drink or food! Well, maybe both! Who knows?

He'll set your favorite series or movie, "I just feel like watching this. Is it okay?"

Then, as he holds you in his arms, resting his head on yours, watching the TV, he'll wait for you to open up, for him to listen to you rambling. If you don't feel like it, then you could cuddle until the screen turns off.

He's here for you, he needs you to know that. He wants you to know that you could open up to him. What else is he here for if he's not going to assure you that you did your best?

His fingers traces your hair, putting it behind your ear as he leans in, kissing your forehead. He's here to listen.

He'd give advices and solutions to your problems, he'll lend his ear to listen, he'll pat your hair if you need comfort. He's here. Especially when you're sad.

Miu Iruma:

Somehow, i could sense that she's bad at comforting others. Like, not that bad, but definitely not good either. She'd panic and won't know what to do when she's in the presence of someone who needs comfort.

I could imagine her comforting others even when she doesn't mean to, though. Like if she said something positive in a worrying situation and assured the others. While actually, it's just how she think, rationally. It's just so happen to be something good.

Yet, ever since she met you, she may or may not had practiced comforting someone. Just so that she won't upset you even more. Just so she could be there when you need her the most.

God, sometimes she feels that it's ridiculous how she feels this way.

But, she brushed it off.

After all, it's you.

With her--more than enough--practices, she'll stay by your side, ready to hug you or just to lend an ear to listen.

She'll feel embarrassed for herself to get this far for you, but oh why does it matter?

You were there when she needed you, so she needs to be there when you need her. This is what she believes. Miu Iruma hates owing to people, you see. Especially you.

She'll try to be as silent as possible when she hugs you, staying by your side, in case the silence calms you. If you prefer it when she talks, then your girlfriend who is as red as a tomato now will start her spontaneous podcast just for you to listen!

"H- Hah! Of course you'd like for me to speak that much! My voice is that amazing, huh? I bet you were longing for this, weren't you?"

She'll rest your head on her chest, with her fingers caressing your hair as she rambles non stop. I don't think it's any different if she's the one who's in a bad mood.

Hm, maybe an idea of a recording her voice into a tape will run into her mind, in case you need it when she's not around. Who knows if she's going to do it? For now, she's yours.

[starryeyedjanai]

pedal to the metal of your heart

kinktober prompt: olfactophilia | 6.5k | explicit part one here | camboy alpha steve series tags: omegaverse, alpha steve, omega eddie, camboy steve, scent kink

read on ao3

Steve's freaking out.

That's the only real way to put it.

Robin is no help, as she watches him pacing a dent in the floor and listens to him talk himself in circles about what happened.

It's been days since it happened. Since he innocently opened up a package on his live stream and had it send him into a fucking pseudo-rut.

He can't explain it. He just knows he was doing a silly little thing for his followers and all of a sudden, he's knotting his fist on camera.

He quickly had to get it together enough to end the stream, but it didn't stop there. His dick remained stubbornly hard and he knotted his fist probably three more times during the next day like he was going through puberty again and knotting up during his first rut.

He was out of commission for a few days, first during his unexpected pseudo-rut - not quite as intense or as long as a regular rut, but still - and then the aftermath of being thoroughly unprepared for it. He was dehydrated and grumpy and his dick hurt and he was in a fugue state for another couple of days contemplating what happened.

In his fugue state with his brain still fuzzy, he found the package again - the garments sealed tight in a scent-proof box - and tried to see if he could find whoever sent him the package.

Because having someone's scent send you into rut, even pseudo-rut, is kind of, it's- it means something, right? It has to mean something.

So he examined the necklace he was still wearing and looked up the band on it and he thinks he found the guy, found Eddie.

He messaged him two days ago and he still hasn't heard anything and it's making him so anxious, he's biting his nails again - a habit he kicked a while ago.

"Rob, it's been too long. It's either not him or he doesn't, he doesn't want me or whatever." The thought that his - whoever Eddie is to him - the thought that he doesn't want Steve makes his heart thump loud and sad in his chest.

Robin barely looks up from the magazine they're flipping through and says, "You don't know that. He might not have even seen the message. Or he could be embarrassed that he accidentally made you knot up on camera. You don't know what he's thinking, so you should stop killing yourself over it."

He knows she's right. He knew she was right the first hundred times she's said it to him over the last couple of days, but he's so nervous. He feels like he might have found something that most people don't find, and he doesn't want to start using words like mate, but it's special still, finding someone who can evoke that kind of response in you.

He throws himself onto his bed dramatically and says, "That doesn't actually help. I know you're right, but I'm still anxious about it."

Robin looks at him and pats him on the thigh. "It's going to be okay, you know? No matter what happens, you'll be fine. Just breathe and wait it out. If he doesn't answer in another couple days, maybe it's not him. I can try to help you find whoever it was."

He nods and gets closer. She opens her arms and he buries his face in her hair as she cuddles him. "Thanks, Robbie. You're right. Maybe I was too out of it when I was searching. I was really going through it."

"Oh I know. I have the texts to prove it."

He pulls back and glares at them. "You cannot use those against me."

"I would never," she says, shoving him away. "I just came five times in a row, Rob, send help," she mocks.

He groans, burying his face in his hands this time. "It was so brutal. I never want to go through a rut alone ever again, even a pseudo one. It's never been like that before."

"Poor lil' guy," Robin says, patting his head.

"It's not little, Rob, you've seen it."

"Ough," Robin says. "Don't remind me. Never remind me."

Steve shakes his head, but still says, "Thanks, though, for sending food. The situation was dire and I could not think."

Robin preens at him. "Of course. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't?"

*

Eddie doesn't get back to him for another couple of days and by then Steve thinks it's a lost cause. The guy either isn't the right person, or he's gun shy about all of this. Steve can't even blame him, really. A lot of people are weird about things like this. Some people don't believe mates exist, so maybe this guy thinks Steve's reaction was fabricated for the views.

He doesn't want to dwell on it, but it sucks. He thinks he maybe found- it doesn't matter, he tells himself.

It'll all be fine. He'll be fine, either way this turns out.

Of course, all of that is utter bullshit because the relief he feels when he sees that Eddie messaged him back is palpable. It's gut deep, like he hasn't been able to relax since he hit send and suddenly all of his muscles are able to relax and stop clenching.

He's in class, bored out of his mind, when he compulsively checks and has to stop himself from outwardly showing a reaction to it. He can't read it in class. He feels like if it's a rejection, Eddie probably wouldn't have even bothered, but if it is, he doesn't want to be in class when it happens.

He immediately gathers up his stuff and leaves the room ten minutes before the lecture ends and makes a beeline for his car. He can read it there. At least then, he'll be able to decide if he needs to go home and wallow or if he needs to treat Robin to lunch to celebrate.

He drops his bag on the passenger seat and pulls out his phone again, surprised he was actually able to hold off on reading it until now.

He takes a deep breath before opening the message.

Hi Stevie, It was my package. I've been kind of freaking out about it since it happened and didn't check to see if I had any messages here. Sorry for taking so long to get back to you. If you need, I can send proof that it's me? I'd love to talk if you still want to. You can message me here or we can take it offline. I promise to check my messages sooner than last time now that I know you'll be messaging me. Hope to talk to you soon, x Eddie

Okay.

Okay, so. So it's him. Probably. It's got to be him because he offered to send proof. He'll probably ask to see the proof anyway because one can never be too sure, but he thinks it's him.

Steve doesn't know what to do next.

He's freaking out too and they haven't even really talked yet. He wants to know everything about him. He wants to know who Eddie is and see him and talk to him and he's absolutely getting ahead of himself, but he can't help it. He's wanted to have this since he was a kid, since he first learned about mates and what they meant. Someone who won't leave.

He wants it so bad he can taste it.

He remembers Eddie's smell, has smelled it probably everyday since, opening up the second scent-proof package that had his shirt in it and smelling it, scenting it in his bed, rubbing his face over the soft material, breathing in Eddie's scent.

He needs to calm down, he realizes, and he loosens the death grip he has on his phone.

He texts Robin, tells them that his- that Eddie sent him a message and that he's freaking out a little bit.

She texts back and talking to her helps calm him down.

He does end up treating them to lunch off campus at a fancy little Italian restaurant.

"You absolutely need to see proof it's him," she tells him when he reads her the message.

"I know. He's got to have pictures with his band logo or something. I'll get proof," he says. "This feels so surreal."

"I bet. Lemme know if you need help crafting a message to him. I know you're going to be spiraling either way, but if I can help-" she says.

"I know, Rob. I'll be fine, I think. I'll let you know."

"Good. And I want to meet this guy. If you're gonna be talking to him or video chatting, I want to vet him."

"You cannot scare him away," he says, looking at her seriously.

She puts her hands up. "I won't! But if he's not good enough for you, I don't give a damn about mates. No one gets to talk to my best friend any kind of way."

His expression softens. They're so protective of him.

"If he's really my mate, he won't just be 'talking to me any kind of way'. He'll be kind," he says, hoping it's the truth.

She hums and they both stop talking as their food arrives.

*

Later that afternoon, laying on his bed, he crafts a message back to Eddie, asking for a picture of him with his band logo as proof.

He's seen pictures of the band in his quest to find him, but he doesn't know which one is him because he didn't let himself look for too long once he found them.

He asks Eddie to send a picture to his email since the site messaging doesn't allow pictures and his phone dings with an email notification not five minutes later.

He opens up the image and it's a picture of the guy from the band with the long hair, wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt, same logo and everything.

He's cute.

He's really fucking cute.

He breathes out a breath of relief that it's actually him and emails him back with his phone number so they can text. Well, he sends him his Google phone number because Robin's right - he needs to be sure this guy isn't a complete asshole before giving him his real phone number. As much as he wants to jump in feet first, he needs to slow down a little.

Eddie texts him almost immediately after he hits send, just a tentative hi, it's eddie and Steve is hitting the call button before he realizes what he's doing. So much for taking it slow.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice says down the line and Steve tries so hard not to roll over and start kicking his feet.

"Hi Eddie," he breathes out.

"Hi Stevie," Eddie says back and Steve is so fucking glad he was stupid and used his real government name on his Only Fans account if it means he gets to have Eddie saying his name like that.

"So I kind of hit call before I knew what I was going to say. Full disclosure," he says because he doesn't have a plan for how this is going to go.

Eddie laughs. "I figured, considering you called me like thirty seconds after I sent you a text."

Steve pouts a little. "Yeah, that kind of gave it away, didn't it?"

"It's fine. Seeing my picture and then my very unoriginal little hi it's me text and still wanting to talk to me right away is kind of doing something for my ego," Eddie says and Steve just knows he's grinning as he says it.

"I mean, you did send me that text like thirty seconds after I emailed you back, so."

"So we're both a little excited," he says.

Steve sighs. "Yeah, tell me about it. Your scent sent me into pseudo-rut, you know?"

He hears the breath that Eddie sucks in. He says, "Yeah? I- I wasn't sure if it was just the, you know, knot-popping on camera."

"Yeah, that plus some. It was kind of intense," he says, breathing out deeply.

"I bet," Eddie says and Steve shivers a little.

His dick is not going to get hard because of Eddie's voice. It's not.

After talking to him for another handful of minutes, asking first date kind of questions and answering Eddie's question in return, Eddie unfortunately has to get back to work because Steve messaged him during his break and he spent the last twenty minutes of it finding a picture to send and then talking to him.

Steve's heart flutters in his chest as they hang up, with promises to talk again soon.

He wants to text him again already, ask to facetime him and see him as soon as he gets off work. He wants to see his mannerisms as he talks - hearing his voice wasn't enough. He wants- he just wants.

But he doesn't want to scare him off by asking for too much too soon.

He wants to know Eddie on his own terms. He doesn't want to make him feel like Steve is pressuring him or moving too fast.

For someone who chronically goes all in too soon in every aspect of his life, that's going to be a challenge.

*

They talk a few more times over the phone and they text a lot. Like a lot.

They exchange snapchats and Steve gets little glimpses into what Eddie's life is like. He sends back similar things - his coffee cup showing off what he typically orders, his lunches from the caf, his dinners out with Robin, the drinks he gets him and Robin when they go out on the weekend.

Steve gets all these feelings in his chest when he sees Eddie's name pop up on his phone screen and he's trying so hard not to be too much, to text too much or call too much.

Eddie tunes in when he streams and he feels butterflies in his stomach when he sees his username pop up, just a bunch of heart eyes emojis whenever Steve does something that he particularly likes. (If he tries to isolate what those things are and replicate them so that he sees Eddie's username more, that's his business.)

They've been talking for over three weeks when he suggests what he's been wanting to suggest since the first time they talked.

They've been chatting on the phone a few times a week, usually later at night when Eddie's out of band practice or off work.

Steve's yawning towards the end of their call that night and knows he has to hang up soon if he wants to wake up on time for his class tomorrow, but the idea is in his head again and won't leave.

So he says, "I had an idea. I could send you something of mine, maybe? So we'd know if we're- if it was a fluke, when I went into pseudo-rut." He bites his lip nervously. He doesn't want it to be a fluke, he wants it to have meant something.

He hears Eddie breathe out and he says quietly, "Yeah, Stevie, I think they would be fine. I'll send you my address."

Steve sighs in relief and after they say their goodbyes, he thinks about what he's going to send to Eddie. He already bought the scent-proof bag to send to Eddie - after their first fucking conversation because he's incapable of being chill - so he just needs to pick what he wants to send.

Immediately, his cock starts aching. Thinking about spreading his come on the now, frankly, disgusting pair of panties Eddie sent him and sending it back to him all packaged up and scent-proofed so that when Eddie opens it, he's hit with the smell of their scents tangling together.

The way Steve has been hit with the scent every time he lifts the shirt Eddie sent along with it up to his face when he's getting himself off, their scents mingling in his nose, making him whine and cry out and want.

Is that too much?

Maybe that's too much. Maybe he should just send his own pair of underwear, smothered in his scent, to Eddie. He feels like that would be a little bit less unhinged of him. He doesn't want to come on too strong. He already feels like he wants too much from someone he barely knows.

But his skin buzzes at the prospect of Eddie opening the package from him and having it send him into a pseudo-heat like it did with Steve's pseudo-rut.

God, he needs to find something to come on so that he can jerk off and then send it covered in his come to Eddie.

He finds a clean pair of panties and then wonders if it might be better to just come into the underwear he's been wearing today. They'd smell more like him than laundry detergent. He contemplates for a minute because the underwear he put on today aren't anything special, just black briefs, but he thinks Eddie might appreciate it more if he can smell Steve's scent fully - the smell of his come mixed with the scent he naturally radiates.

He says, "Fuck it," and lays back on his bed and starts stroking himself through his briefs. He'll send Eddie a shirt too, one that he wears often, maybe his sleep shirt, so he can get the full experience.

He lets himself think about it again, about Eddie opening his package and groaning, burying his face in the very briefs he's touching himself through right now. He thinks about Eddie leaking slick, needing to pull out his toys because he needs something inside him after he smells Steve's scent.

He thinks about his slick hole, needing to be filled, over and over until it hurts almost. He thinks about Eddie's undoubtedly pretty cock and how he'd tug on it desperately. He'd come so many times with Steve's briefs pressed up under his nose just like Steve had.

Steve pulls his cock out of his underwear and strokes himself in earnest, twisting his wrist to stimulate the head on every other stroke. He thumbs at the sensitive head and thinks about burying his cock in Eddie's wet hole, thinks about how snug and warm it would be.

He'd fuck Eddie until neither of them could move, exhausted and spent and dripping. He'd fall asleep with his cock still inside Eddie's hole because neither of them could bear to part. He'd love it, waking up hard and still inside him.

He'd take it slow in the morning because they'd be worn out and sore from the day before. He'd fuck him so good and slow, feel his hole spasm around him as he came again, his cock barely spitting out any come. He'd fill him up, press his cock deep inside him and leave him feeling sated and sticky and like he could melt into the bed.

He wants to take care of him, he thinks, speeding up his hand. He wants to worship him, wants to do whatever Eddie wants him to do. He wants Eddie to take what he wants from him, wants him to hold Steve right where he wants him and take his pleasure any way he wants.

He wants Eddie on top of him, pinning him down as he sinks down on his cock. He wants Eddie to whisper in his ear exactly what he's going to do to Steve and how he's going to do it. He wants to feel taken care of, wants to feel held down and caught, weighed down by Eddie's weight on top of him.

His hips hitch up and he knows he's going to come soon, thinking about Eddie telling him what he wants and then taking it.

He shoves his cock back into his briefs so he can come all over the inside of them. He shudders through it, whining because he wants so many things with Eddie. He has to be his mate, he has to be, right? Steve wouldn't want him this much if he wasn't. He has to be.

He comes down slowly, breath evening out. He feels so sticky and gross. He peels his underwear down and immediately puts them in the scent-proof bag he bought.

He lays back down feeling kind of vulnerable. He wants this so bad, probably more than he's wanted most things. Because he's never had a relationship turn out good and he just wants something to be right for the first time.

So if he's found his, his mate - his true mate or perfect match or whatever people are calling it nowadays - he wants to know, so bad.

The anticipation is going to kill him, he thinks.

*

He sends the package out in the mail the next morning and tries not to think about doing something crazy like driving the three hours it would take to get from Chicago to Indianapolis. That'd be weird, right? Him showing up at the address Eddie sent to him, at noon on a Monday. That would definitely be too much, too soon.

He knows he's in deep when the rationale for not doing it that wins him over is that Eddie might be working and might not be at home in the middle of a work day.

He facepalms and tries to keep it together.

He goes to his classes and ignores the looks Robin gives him when they meet him in the library after class.

It's fine. Everything is fine.

Eddie will get the package in a few days and they'll probably know if it was a fluke or not. (Steve already knows it wasn't a fluke. He knows it like he knows he's an alpha, it's in his bones, deep. He's never sure about anything, but he feels sure about this. He feels something when he texts Eddie, when he hears his voice. That can't be a fluke.)

He just needs to chill out and not scare Eddie away before they confirm it.

He just always wants a lot and usually too fast. So he's trying to slow down, now that this could be the real deal. The big one, the one everyone's always waiting for and writing songs about and yearning for. He doesn't want to scare him away before he even gets to know him.

How embarrassing would that be? He can't imagine having to tell Robin that his mate, his actual mate, wants nothing to do with him because he's too overbearing.

So he can't be overbearing. He won't be. He'll keep it together and he won't do anything weird. Should be easy, right?

*

He texts Eddie that he mailed the package to him and sends him the tracking number.

The morning of his first midterm, Eddie texts him that the package is arriving later today and Steve somehow manages to find enough focus to not completely bomb his midterm.

He's buzzing with anticipation the entire day, waiting for Eddie to text or call and say that he has the package.

It's still light out when Eddie's name flashes on his screen.

Got it is all it says and Steve frowns.

He hits the call button.

Eddie picks up after a couple rings and says, "Hi, Steve," but he sounds weird. Oh no.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. It's not- they're not. Are they not-?

He swallows and tries to hold back the anxiety that's seeping into his body.

"Hi Eddie," he says back, trying not to freak out.

"I got the package," Eddie says, which doesn't give him anything to go off of.

"Yeah, I got your text. Did you open it?" he asks impatiently.

"Not yet," Eddie says, voice smaller than usual. "I'm kind of nervous to open it. I- maybe it's a weird thing to say, but I want this so badly. Like, I want it to send me into pseudo-heat. I want the whole mate thing to be true for us."

Some of the tension evaporates from his body. Oh.

"I want that too," he says, breathlessly.

"You do?" Eddie asks, hope in his voice, and maybe Steve hasn't been letting on just how much he's been anticipating this moment - for fear of being too much.

"Yes!" he says. "I've been tearing my hair out over here waiting for your text. I could barely focus on my midterm this morning."

"Oh fuck, you did say you had midterms this week. Should we wait-?"

"No!" he says, cutting him off. "I will literally die if we wait any longer. I've been waiting for this and hoping for so long now."

Eddie laughs. "Okay, okay! I'll open it. Do you want to maybe FaceTime while I open it?"

They haven't video chatted at all since they started talking. The only time Eddie's seen him has been on his streams and in the snapchats he sends him. Steve hasn't seen Eddie at all apart from the sleepy snapchats he sometimes sends him when he wakes up.

"Yeah, we should- uh. If it sends you into pseudo-heat, we could stay on the line if you want," he says, his cheeks heating up at the thought of seeing Eddie like that, desperate to come, desperate for something inside him. "Do you have supplies ready? You shouldn't open it if you aren't prepared."

"Oh trust me, big boy, I am plenty prepared. I've got a case of water and some snacks to get me through it," Eddie says and Steve's phone vibrates in his hand.

He pulls it away from his ear and accepts the FaceTime request.

"Hi," Eddie says.

"Hi," Steve says back shyly, looking at Eddie's pretty face.

"So I don't have a tripod or anything, so this'll have to do," Eddie says, holding his phone out to show Steve the package in his lap.

"Yeah, that's fine. I wasn't expecting, like, a show or anything. This is more than fine," he says, moving to his bedroom. He sits down on his bed with his back against the headboard and watches as Eddie one-handedly tears into the package.

It would be much easier to just put the phone down and open the package with two hands, but watching Eddie struggle is kind of cute, so he doesn't say anything.

Eddie gets the package open and pulls out the scent-proof bags Steve put his folded shirt and come stained briefs in.

The thoughts he's been trying to push out of his mind since he mailed the package come rushing back to the surface. Eddie's about to scent him and his dick is twitching about it.

His heart is beating so fucking fast.

"So, uh, this is it, I guess. The moment of truth," Eddie says, lifting the bag up to his mouth and using his teeth to tear through it.

There's something so unbearably hot about him literally tearing the package open with his teeth that Steve almost misses the quiet sound Eddie makes when the bag rips open.

It's this little punched out noise that's barely anything at all, but Steve knows that noise - he knows it because he made almost the exact same noise when he first got a whiff of Eddie's scent.

He looks at Eddie, as he takes out the briefs Steve came onto just days ago and buries his nose in them.

His cock twitches in his pants and he rushes to get them open.

"Talk to me, Eddie," he says, watching Eddie's face go a little slack, his eyes hazy as he opens them.

"It's- I. I feel like I'm going into heat," Eddie says, tilting his phone down so Steve can see his hard dick in his shorts. Fuck. Fuck.

"Yeah?" he asks, tilting his phone down too, so Eddie can see how hard he is too.

"Fuck, Stevie, want that in me," Eddie whines, falling back onto his bed. The phone in his hand is pointing up so all Steve sees is the ceiling as Eddie moans.

"Show me what you're doing?" he asks, desperate to see him again.

Eddie's kicked off his shorts in the two seconds his camera was pointed away apparently because the next thing Steve sees is his dripping cock. And-

Jesus christ. He's big. His cock- wow.

Steve takes his own cock in his hand and strokes it, watching Eddie's cock twitch as he smells Steve's scent.

"I need something inside me," Eddie says, dropping the phone onto the bed and Steve whines.

He wants to see him, but the phone is face down on his bed so Steve sees nothing. He hears Eddie rummaging around and stops his hand on himself because he only wants to touch when Eddie can see him.

He waits for another few moments as Eddie gets what he needs and then picks up the phone again.

"Steve, I'm so fucking hot right now," Eddie says, his face flushed. He's sweating a little already and Steve wants to bury his face in Eddie's neck, scent him right from the source.

Instead he grabs Eddie's shirt from under his pillow - the scent is so faint now, but it's still lingering. Steve shucks the shirt he was wearing off and tugs Eddie's shirt on.

He hears Eddie groan and he looks at his phone. Eddie's looking back at him, his eyes wild.

"You're wearing my shirt," he says, his eyes wide as he looks at him.

"I keep it under my pillow," Steve confesses. "It's losing its scent, but it still smells like you a little."

Eddie does something outside of the camera frame that makes him moan, and Steve sorely wishes Eddie did have a tripod or something so he could see all of him, could see how he's making himself feel good.

Eddie says, "I'll send you another one. This one." He tugs at the shirt he's wearing, fumbling as he takes it off.

With his clothes off now, he sets his phone on his bedside table, pointed at him. The angle is a little wonky, but Steve can see him, see what he's doing.

He squeezes his cock as Eddie kneels on the bed facing his phone and reaches back to grip the dildo inside him and pull it out a little. Fuck, when had he even gotten that inside him?

He grabs Steve's briefs and brings them up to his nose again, his moan long and drawn out as he sinks down onto the dildo with Steve's scent in his nose again.

He holds the dildo steady with one hand as he bounces up and down on it and Steve can't stop himself from planting his feet on his bed and fucking up into his fist at the same speed, wishing he was there, wishing he was sinking into Eddie's hole instead of his fist.

Eddie's dick bounces on every thrust down and Steve wants it in his mouth.

Steve moans, thinking of Eddie's hands in his hair, holding his head still as he fucks his face with his unfairly big cock. He doesn't know any other omega with a cock that big, jesus christ. He wants to swallow it, wants to choke on it, wants to taste Eddie's come on his tongue. He wants Eddie to come in his mouth and then make Steve eat him out, rub his wet hole all over Steve's face. He wants it, he wants it, he wants it.

And he says it, less afraid of admitting everything he wants now that Eddie seems to have had a similar reaction to his scent.

He tells him he wants to choke on his cock and taste him and listens as Eddie's moans get louder and louder.

It spurs him on.

He says, "I want to bury my cock in you. Wanna come inside you and lick it out. Please. Would you let me?"

Eddie shivers and nods as he fucks himself on the dildo. He says, "I would ride you into the goddamn bed. Make you knot up inside him and then when it goes down, sit on your face as your come drips out of me."

Steve wants to knot him so bad. He's- oh fuck. He's gonna knot his fist again.

This shouldn't be happening. Eddie's scent only had that initial reaction because of the newness of it - he's been smelling his shirt every night and hasn't knotted apart from the pseudo-rut. His knot shouldn't be forming right now.

"I'm gonna knot, holy shit. I'm-" he groans as his cock pulses in his grip, his knot expanding as he squeezes it. He tilts his phone down so Eddie can see it, see him knotting up for him again.

The look on Eddie's face as he comes is something Steve isn't going to ever forget. He trembles as he sinks down on the dildo, pressing the button on the base of the dildo to expand the knot.

Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie's cock starts to spurt, untouched. His come arcs out of him, splattering the bed and his thighs with come as he grinds down onto the knotted dildo.

Steve grips his knot tight and he comes, looking at Eddie shuddering through the waves of it, his hole probably like a vice on that knotting dildo. It should be him.

Fuck.

He squeezes his hand tighter around his knot, dropping his phone on his chest to stroke himself through his orgasm. He whimpers as the come floods out of him, his knot aching.

"Stevie, fuck. Wanna see you," Eddie says, so Steve pulls his hand away and grabs his phone again. Fuck, he's so messy right now.

He brings his phone back up and the first thing he sees is Eddie stroking his still hard cock with Steve's briefs and Steve's eyes roll back, his cock kicking out another glob of come.

God, the way Eddie's room must smell right now. Like the two of them, the way Steve's room smelled for days after his pseudo-rut. He could barely go back into his room without his dick getting hard about it. He wants him so intensely that he fucking knotted his fist without meaning to.

"You look so fucking good in my shirt, Steve. Want you to smell like me," Eddie says, which does nothing to sate the way he wants so viscerally to be with him right now.

He's still stroking himself with Steve's briefs and it's making Steve's dick twitch, his knot hot in his fist.

"Can't believe you knotted for me," Eddie says, jerking himself faster, like the heat that waned when he came is back with a vengeance.

"You gonna come again?" Steve asks, his voice shaky.

"Yeah," Eddie moans. "Gonna come all over your fucking underwear. Make it smell like us."

Steve whines. Eddie seems to have his number already, knows exactly what to say to make his knot pulse in his grip, more come dribbling out of the slit of his cock.

Eddie curses and groans again, shaking as he comes again, his come shooting out onto the fabric of Steve's briefs.

How the hell is Steve gonna survive meeting him in person if he can't even control himself at the thought of their scents mingling in person?

"You'll survive, sweetheart," Eddie says and Steve was completely unaware he'd even said anything out loud, so completely out of it apparently.

"I'm not so sure about that," he says, squeezing his knot.

Eddie hums and grabs the phone from the nightstand, collapsing back onto the bed. "I think you'll be fine once you get your knot in me."

"Fuck, Eddie. You can't just say that," he groans.

"Why not?" he asks, grinning.

"Because my knots not gonna go down and I'm gonna die."

"You're even more dramatic than me. I love it," Eddie says, sitting up and grabbing a water bottle to drink from.

"I'm not that dramatic, Mr. Dungeon Master," he says with a pout.

"Ooh, call me master again and I might come," Eddie says, leering at him.

Steve rolls his eyes.

The chatter stops momentarily as Eddie drinks from his water bottle and curls back up in bed.

Steve watches as he wraps himself up in his blankets and once again wishes he was there.

He says, "You look so cozy right now."

Eddie grins at him again. "I am. My bed is very comfy. You should come see for yourself."

"I wish I could," he says, honestly.

"I don't think I could do a real heat right now though, unfortunately," Eddie says with a groan. "This pseudo-heat is gonna wear me out, I can already tell, and I've got shows to do with my band and work and stuff. But I'd love to meet up with you in a few weeks. Or maybe once the semester is over?"

Steve smiles at him. "Yeah, I'd like that. We can figure out when later. It's probably better to let this marinate a little anyway. Not everything all at once." See? He can take it slow.

The thought of getting to see him in person, getting to know him in person, real and in front of him, is making Steve's heart race.

"Yeah, I typically dive head first into things, so taking a breather is probably a good idea," Eddie says. He looks at Steve through the camera and says, "But that doesn't mean I want to stop talking, got it? I still want to text and I want you to call."

Steve appreciates the clarity. "I'm glad. I don't want to stop talking either."

"Good. Just making sure," Eddie says, reaching over and grabbing the shirt Steve sent from the package and pillowing it under his head.

That reminds him. "I think if you sent me another shirt, it would help tide me over until we meet, though," he says and Eddie laughs. Steve aches again, wanting to- just wanting him.

Eddie says, "I can do that. I'll have to swing an extra shift to cover the shipping though."

Steve rolls his eyes. "Literally give me your Venmo. I'm the one asking for it, so I should be the one to pay for it."

Eddie looks like he's going to protest, but he says. "Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. I want to scent you so bad right now."

"Me too," Eddie says. "You smell nice, by the way. Like, your shirt smells amazing." He buries his face in Steve's shirt, breathing deeply.

"So do you. Earthy. It's nice," he says. He loosens his grip on himself, his knot starting to go down. "How many more rounds do you think you'll have to do tonight?"

Eddie thinks for a second, then says, "At least another few orgasms before I get ready for bed. I have to eat dinner at some point, I guess. I'll probably wake up a few times during the night and need to be knotted again."

"I'll stay on the line however long it takes," he says.

Eddie brightens up and says, "Yeah? You sure you wanna babysit me into the wee hours of the morning?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "I wanna take care of you. I can't be there in person, but I can be here, you know?"

Eddie looks a little taken aback at the sincerity, but he smiles at him shyly. "In that case, I'm looking forward to it."

Yeah, so is Steve.

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole Part 15: You

A/n: hi everyone! Feels so surreal to say but this is the penultimate chapter of insufferable arsehole *cries*. I love this series so much so please feel free to send in any requests you want to see from these characters. But the main series is nearly over *sobs*. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I love you all so much and thank you for all your support <3. I want to give a massive shout out to @ughgoaway and @justanamesstuff for loving this series as much as I do. Without all of your support (but especially my loving ia stans) this series would've been over a long time ago. I love you guys so much. Hope you enjoy <3

Extra note: I wrote all the little poems in the notebook part of this series. They're all original (whether you think they're shit or you like them) please don't copy them.

Previous Part

Series Masterlist

Matty’s POV

The sofa I'm lying on feels way too comfortable, the warmth of it making it hard for me to get up. It’s soft beneath me and it lures me into closing my eyes.  I have things I need to do, I have people I need to call, meetings I need to attend, friends I need to make sure are okay, set lists to read and adjust. A wonderful and loving girlfriend who I need to show my love for. But lying here, listening to the soft strum of the guitar she's playing has my closed eyes fluttering and my body weighing down on the sofa. I don't fall asleep, I just lie with my eyes closed, letting her voice drift over me - consume me.

I had moments like these, moments where I felt... Numb. But she pulls me out of them, or at least fills my body with something other than numbness, she touches the parts that can't usually be persuaded on days like these. These moments were few and far between with the presence of Lou in my life and somehow it makes this time worse. I feel guilty for feeling this way, for feeling low, for slipping into a dark space. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, I had a wonderful girlfriend, I was finally with the girl meant for me. And I had friends, great friends who were more like family. I had adoring fans and I did what I felt like I was meant to for a living. Life was perfect… So why did I feel so unworthy of it all?

It had started earlier this morning when I had snapped at one of the music techs, I hadn't meant to and I felt guilty as soon as I did it. Her warm hand clamped around my shoulder almost immediately, telling me to go lie down and so I did. I heard her apologise for my actions, explaining that I was 'tired'. I felt thankful she didn't tell the guy the real reason. The guys understood it, maybe even more than Lou, so when she spoke to them before she came back to me, they got it. Jamie had once described me as someone with a huge ego but no self worth, in moments like these, I had to agree. 

The sound of the guitar stops and I hear her set it down, I hear the shuffle of the foot stall, feel a light bump against the side of the sofa, feel her soft hand drifting up my back, up to my neck and then my head, pushing the curls away and making my eyes flutter open.

My heart beat falters, my breath matching it, her beautiful eyes look down at me, soothing me. It was hard to describe them, they were ever changing. I wouldn't say they were green, but they weren't blue or grey either, it was as if those colours alone weren't enough for someone like Lou, they weren't special or unique so whoever created her (I don't believe in God but some greater being had to create a person like her) decided to make a new colour, a combination of all things beautiful. They had hints of grey and specs of yellow and sometimes the sun made them look piercingly blue but the sun could also make them look like emeralds. They were perfect, one look into them and I can feel myself slipping from the dark spaces of my mind. 

"Hi my sweet boy" it surprises me that I don't have to tell her what I need from her in times like these, she just got it. As if she had access to all parts of my brain, able to peek in and see what I needed and having the ability to just give it to me without a shred of hesitation or an ulterior motive. It shouldn’t surprise me, not anymore, not when I knew she was it for me, the only one I ever want to be with, to spend the rest of my life with. The person who was mine and I theirs.

"Hi" I don't recognise the voice that comes from me, a low, deep grumble of a sad man. One that felt like a distant memory, the voice of someone I used to know, not the person I am now.

"I want to show you something" she says and I find myself nodding, she places her black leather notebook in my lap and I find my heart beating three times as hard as I look at it. She had never shown me this before, showing someone this is like showing them your deepest thoughts and emotions, baring your soul to them. I had watched her scribble in it countless times, I had watched as she wrote lyrics that pulled her lips up at the corners, I had watched as she scribbled down angrily, tears falling from her eyes and coating the pages. 

I remember the only time I had come close to reading the lyrics, pinning her down to a hotel bed in some forgotten location, tickling her sides until the book slipped from her fingertips, holding the pages above her head just out of reach as our laughter was all that could be heard. I remember the way she begged me to give it back, of course I would never have read it without her permission. I remember her pleas made me drop the book and bury my face into her neck. She made me forget about the lyrics easily, too wrapped up in her to care about them. 

"Are you sure?" I ask, sitting up slightly so my back is against the armrest of the sofa, pulling the book towards me and playing with the frayed edges. She smiles at me, her hand resting against my jaw, her thumb running over her bone, making my eyes flutter momentarily.

"Sometimes I think you forget how much you mean to people, you forget how much people love you... And not just me, the band and the crew, your family, my family, the fans... Of course I can only speak for myself... So I want you to read this" she speaks, voice soft and delicate. Beautiful.

I want to speak. To tell her I love her. To thank her. I want to smile. To press my lips against hers. But my eyes won't leave the book.

"most of them aren't finished... They're not songs... They're just things I wrote, little poems" she says and I nod, looking up from the book.

"I love you Matty" she says, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my forehead before leaving me. It takes a while for me to open the book, scared of what I'll find. My shaky hands eventually separate the cover from the first page.

I find a few I recognise, like the one she posted on Instagram, the one I loved:

"I'd stay with you here forever, you with those dark eyes and darker hair, the epitome of beauty, you put Adonis to shame, with the way you paint my brain, with everything that is you, you with those dark eyes and darker hair. The epitome of beauty."

Her handwriting is delicate, cursive and, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. I'm not surprised because everything she does is beauty. She is beauty.

I flick through the pages, little photos taped to the corners or wedged in, the photos make my heart swell. Photos of her and G, one in particular making me smile: a photo of Lou sitting on George's shoulders, looking as if she was scared to fall down, but she's laughing and so is George and his hands are clamped on her thighs that rest around his head ensuring she doesn't fall. A picture of her and Ross, pulling funny faces at each other, they both look younger, Ross’ hair is short and Lou’s is too, I wish I had her like that back then, even now, even still - I regret the time we lost.  I find a picture she took of me, her thighs resting either side of my waist as she takes a photo from above, I feel like a different person than the one smiling up at me. I see another one taken in a photo booth, one where we're kissing, it makes me smile.

I read on, my heart slowly being refilled with love and beauty and kindness and feeling.

I could bask in you for endless days and endless nights. For you are the sun that shines and glistens. For you are the one that warms my once cold heart and bones.

You're the sun in winter, warming up bones and creating smiles. You're rain on a summer's day, soaking the sweat away. You're all things good and kind and lovely. You're love and sex and beauty. You're the definition of passion. Cigarettes and coffee and fresh and home. You're my favourite scent. My favourite sound. My favourite sight. My favourite thought. My favourite feeling. You touch me and I feel you everywhere. Burying into my being. You're mine. My favourite scent. Cigarettes, coffee, fresh, home. My home.

I loved the complexity of some but simply adored the simplicity of others. Reading the ones which don't hide behind metaphors, they're purer somehow.

Pain engraved my brain. Hurt twisted through my mind. Envy soaked through my eyes. You appeared , all those emotions vanished. I began to love the way you loved me. I found myself loving you more. I used to hate you, I hated hating you. I love you now, I love loving you and  I love you loving me.

I smile, a huge smile and I feel it seep through my bones, warming my cold body, feeling finally flooding back in.

Red lips and brown eyes. Black curls and tattooed skin. I'd like to paint in you in my mind so I could have you here forever

The few words are the only ones on this particular page, the rest is filled with pictures of us, a picture of the M necklace I gave her, a picture of my marked neck, her marks. There's a picture of us kissing, ones in which any other circumstance would cause my skin to heat up and my blood to rush south. There’s sweet pictures too, of us in Rome, our hands intertwined, pictures of our tattoos we got together. 

The ropes within unwind under your command. Just say the word and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth.

Matty is sun kissed cheeks on summer days, cherry blossom on withered ground, swirling clouds amongst technicolour skies.

I turn the page and a larger piece of paper falls out, I unfold it carefully, taking my time in reading the words I find on the page:

Dear George,

I’m writing to you from Rome. Seems a bit weird to be writing you a letter knowing I’m going to be seeing you soon. Was feeling nostalgic I guess… Remember the days when we were both on tour and we’d write these big long letters to each other from wherever in the world we were. It was such a pain trying to make sure they were sent to you before you left that city or town. I remember us arguing one day because Jamie had complained about the amount of money he kept having to spend to retrieve the letters when had arrived a little too late. Grumpy sod.

Anyway, you’d usually write about how the tour was going, how Matty had been getting on your nerves. I always wondered whether you just said that to make me feel better for not getting on with your best friend. You’d send me pictures of you with Ross and Hann and I’d send you pictures of me and the girls (usually receiving a text from you or Macdonald after that made me want to hit you around the head - pervs)

Strange how different things seem now. Like now for instance - I'm writing this, by the pool (this place is fucking huge, you and Charli would love it here), Matty’s napping next to me. He’s sleeping with this dopey grin and… I love him George. So much. Please don’t try to cringe too much reading this. His skin isn’t as pale anymore. Shock right? Our pale boy has a tan!

 I want to thank you G. Thank you for everything. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for… but thank you for bringing me him. Matty is everything George. The way he loves me is nothing I have ever felt before. I know now that everything up until now is worth it because now I have him.

I can’t help but wonder how I ever could have hated him. He cares so deeply for every one G… sometimes I wonder if it's too much, if he’s going to get hurt in the end. But that’s okay. Because he has me. And he has you and the boys. And together we love him deeply (still probably half as much as he loves us). I’m going to spend every day of my life proving to him that he is worthy.

So thank you George. He’s the love of my life. He owns my heart, now and forever. 

Your best friend - Lou x

My heart picks up in my chest, I love her, more than anyone I have ever loved in my life. I feel tears fall from my eyes, coating my cheeks. I swipe them away before they have a chance to hit the pages. 

But you... It was different with you

That's my favourite, my fingers find the page and I carefully tear the page out, I fold it gently and tuck it into my pocket.

I stand from the sofa, feeling weightless now, feeling love for her in every fibre of my being. I walk around the venue, trying to find her. I find George who smiles at me widely.

"glad to see you perked up a bit" he says with a hand to my shoulder.

"Where's Lou?" My abruptness takes him back but it doesn't stop him from answering. I appreciate that.

"She's with your mum in the kitchen, they're baking" George clearly sees my shocked face and he chuckles "yeah your mum is here" I hug him tightly before I leave him, heading for the kitchen.

My legs move too quickly for my brain to register but I don't care, I need to find her. My mum spots me before Lou does and she smiles widely.

"Hello Matthew, feeling any better?" She asks, Lou looks up at me as she finishes speaking.

"Explained to your mum that you were feeling a little tired" Lou explains and I nod, smiling at her.

"Much better mum, thank you" I say leaning down to place a peck against her cheek.

Lou's hands are covered in flour and it makes me smile. I squeeze past my mother with a gentle "excuse me" . My hands find Lou's waist and I hitch her up, making her smile.

"Matty put the poor woman down" my mother scolds me but I don't stop. Lou's hands find my shoulders as she feels like she's going to fall.

"I've got flour on your shirt now idiot" she says but she's still smiling. She looks down at me and I see everything in her eyes, every emotion, every indication that she loves me. I love her, god do I love you. 

"I don't care, come here" I say, one hand finding her chin and lightly pulling her towards me.

"Matty, your mum" she says, eyes flicking over my shoulder to my mum who giggles to herself, busying herself with the baking..

"I. Don't. Care" I say with the widest smile I think has ever graced my features.

"What has gotten into you?" She asks, smiling widely. Her eyes sparkle. God she's beautiful.

"I love you Lou, so much, you're everything. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you, if that's okay with you" I say, I hear my mum coo behind us and Lou smiles above me, her legs wrapping around my waist to support herself more.

"Fine with me Healy" she says, leaning down to press her lips against mine finally. The kiss is kept short to save my mother seeing us in a compromising position.

"But you, it was different with you" I repeat her own words back to her and she nods.

"Yeah..." She says and I see her eyes well with tears, I feel myself copying her, placing her back on the floor but moving my head down to kiss her again. I hold her to my side as I turn to my mother.

"I'll leave you both to bake," I say, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek, smiling at my mother. .

"Okay" she says with a smile. I hug my mum tightly before I walk out, but I don't miss my mother's words

"That boy is obsessed with you, I've never ever known him to love someone as much as you" she says.

"Trust me, the same goes for him. I'd do anything for him" Lou's words make me smile and so I continue walking.

I find George again, happy to find him with Hann and Ross.

"Good you're all here" I say, drawing their attention towards me.

"Everything okay mate?" Ross asks and I smile as I nod.

"I need your help"

"Anything," George says.

"I'm going to ask Lou to marry me" they all smile widely at me, I like that. My eyes flick to George’s. He seems expressionless for a second.

“If that’s okay with you” I ask, I see George’s lip quiver slightly and his fingers grip his bottom lip as he nods. I see tears coat his eyes as he steps forward, grabbing my hand in his and pulling me forward into a hug.

“Fuck yeah” I find myself crying too. I feel two more sets of arms wrapping around us. I smile.

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