#WHY AM I ONLY ALLOWED RELIEF FOR LIKE A WEEK AND A HALF?????? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arunikas · 2 years

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ーolgami

That one time Hinata let herself act impulsively, she never thought it would cost her a bombardment of constant, overwhelming desires she never allowed herself to think of dwelling into.

Being a college student is hard enough. But being a broke college student is on another level of headache, not to mention that her college life is basically hanging on the thin thread of her scholarship. It's always so packed with endless assignments, nonstop pulling all nighters, and part time jobs at one place after another.

And when her body betrayed her into refusing to work due to the excessive amount of labor hours and then the stress level hit its peak; Ino had successfully convinced her to do that one thing she always cringed out whenever Ino brought it up during their pillow talk session in their bedroom dorm.

"Aw, c'mon Hina~ being a sugar baby doesn't always require you to use your body! There are some daddies out there just wanting a companion in a fancy dinner or just a casual date or basically just wanting somebody to spoil their money on." Ino had said.

"There are some, Ino. Not all." I rolled my eyes, "And we never know which type I'll end up meeting."

"No no no! Didn't I tell you? This one guy is a friend of Sai. You remember him, right? The sugar daddy I met last Friday?"

"That one whitey?"

"Hey don't mock him!"

"I just said exactly as one of the things you described him to me."

Ino only grinned sheepishly when she remembered, "Hehe I kno–no no! That's not the point!"

It was my cue to pull up my fluffy blanket, ready to wrap my sore muscles into a warm cocoon after a long, tiring day at class and work. I knew there's no ending when Ino started this topic. Not until the lack of response I give her when I already fall asleep.

I tucked my head lower to nest on the warmth I’d yearned the whole day while half-mindedly listening to Ino’s a to z explanation as to why I should try meeting this one guy she’d been pestering my hearing at least for the past week. My mind was already half-drifted to sleep as I catched a few key words about said guy: blond, blue-eyed, and ultra rich. The kind of those old-money bastards.

“Sai said he just wants a companion for a dinner, no more than–”

“What’s this? You’re still in touch with this Sai guy?” I narrowed my eyes, demanding an explanation.

Ino only stared at me as she twirled her hair, pink dusted her cheeks, and a shy smile plastered on her lips–things that don't belong to an Ino.

“Oh c’mon, No. You’re kidding right?”

“Huh why? Is there a problem with that?”

“There definitely is. Where’s that one absolute rule you kept telling me about?” Now I sat up to look at her more closely, “The holy ‘one day rule’?” I pushed. “‘Which is to only meet a sugar daddy for a day and become a complete stranger after’,” I recited that line like a verse from the bible, reminding her just in case she forgot.

“Well, we never know, Hina.” She ended her excuse with a naughty wink.

“Wow, what a great excuse for the one who is always so adamant about rules.”

“Is that a note of sarcasm I just heard?” she narrowed her eyes.

Hearing that response, I folded my arms across my chest and looked at her deadpanned, “A note? It was a whole-ass melody.”

“Hey!” she threw her Elmo plushie at my face but I blocked right before it hit my head. We laughed.

“But really, be careful, No.”

“I am.”

Hearing her replying with such confidence gave me a waft of relief somehow. I gave her a curt smile before standing up to take my glass of water–

Huh?

Thud!

“Oh My Gosh! Are you alright?!”

My vision went blurry for a few seconds as I landed on the floor, feeling the world spinning below me. I felt Ino grabbing my arms to help me stand but I squeezed her hand instead. Not that I want to stay in that position.

I can’t.

I closed my eyes, and opened, and closed again. Trying to grasp back my focus before trying to process what exactly just happened.

“You okay?!”

“Yes,” I said simply.

“See? Your body can’t even make it to stand. You’ve forced yourself too far, Hina.” She was genuinely concerned. I was aware. But I didn’t know how to reply to that because first, it was true. And second, if I admit it she’d continue pushing her agenda to make me meet that blond daddy she kept telling me about.

“I told you, it’s a good opportunity. He has the money you need. And you only need your presence to accompany him for a day. Then you can rest for days without worrying about part-time-shits for a while.”

See? She always brings this up.

Ino waited for me though I still didn’t reply. But this time, I–surprisingly–just found another reason not to; which is, third, it finally just hit me of how tempting that offer is.

“You need your deserved rest, Hina. Mid-term exam is coming up and you definitely can’t fail this, right?”

I stared at her and she knew that she was so so right.

She sighed, “That’s why you need to recover. And study. You can get all those at once just by ‘sacrificing’ a day.”

I fiddled with the hem of my sweater, brain working extra careful in contemplating this offer. I bit my lower lip it became white by the pressure, saying, “You sure he doesn’t want anything else?”

“I’m positive.”

“No s–sleeping together?” my voice was small and uncertain. Explicitly saying it was kinda embarrassing.

“No. Just a date, or a dinner. You name it.”

I held my breath. “Okay.”

And that is the root for all the mess I’ve been going through after that…date? Dinner? I don’t know.

Then here I am–after a whole week has passed since that first and (should be) the last time we met–standing with my super ordinary outfit, hair as plain as how my clothes look–without even a small arrangement whatsoever. Student ID on my hand, a canvas tote bag slings over my left shoulder; I try to catch my breath as I make a sudden halt from my jog to the library and freeze completely when my eyes land on him.

That one guy I met last Saturday night. Blond hair shines golden under the sun and blue eyes beam the brightest light I have never seen on anything else before.

He looks simple in his denim jeans and black shirt. Both sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the veins around his forearms protrude and flex as he folds his arms across his chest.

He looks simple, leaning without a care in the world on his black Bugatti La Voiture Noire–as if it is a common car anyone could afford– and the very car we drove together exactly a week ago. Also, the only car name, or type, or whatever, I ever manage to remember after I read its name last week.

He looks simple, even when he lifts his left hand checking the time at his Rolex circling his wrist.

He looks…simple?

Really…? Is that the right word?

Then I check again, to all the things surrounding him.

“Haha..ha..ha..” I breathe, “Simple my ass.”

I stare at him again and ‘simple’ is such a vulgar insult.

He is so fucking not normal. So crazy gorgeous yet intimidating. Extremely attractive yet so mysterious.

Everything about him makes me shrink like a tiny feeble drowning to the endless ocean.

When chills run down my spine, I snap myself out of it, deciding to hurriedly run away before those eagle blue eyes catch a glimpse of my presence.

Huh? What makes me think that he, the almighty Uzumaki Naruto, is looking for me? Here? Right now? He might be looking for his friend…? Or another girl…? I’m sure he has thousands of reasons to be standing leisurely there and me, the nobody Hinata Hyuuga, is definitely not upon that list.

My feet have already gathered all their strength to walk away until–holy shit–those blue eyes clash with mine.

Then a smirk makes itself seen on his lips.

Then they mouth ‘found you’ that I somehow manage to make out.

Then that God-carved body moves, walking, leaving his million dollar sport car to me, a mere nobody like me.

I look around, just in case there’s somebody else around me he is actually walking toward, but nope. There’s only me in his line of sight.

Then our eyes engage in such intense staring as I feel everything around me stands still, the time seems to stop to stare at us.

“You are not even going to say hi?” he speaks. He speaks.

I snap.

W-When did he…?

“Or are you too stunned to even speak?” he smirks, satisfaction brimming from his voice.

I stare at him. There's lump in my throat, rendering me unable to utter even a single word. My brain seems to crash as I grip on the sling of my tote bag seeking for an anchor.

Tik.

Few seconds pass by and he still stands there solemnly while eyeing me with such an intense, overwhelming gaze.

“Say somethin’, Nata.” He talks like silk, yet there’s this weird, implicit dominance emitting from his husky voice–which is so scandalously inviting–that makes me helplessly obey whatever he says.

“Y-Yes?”

Damn the power he holds over me.

Damn that nickname he gave specially for me.

Dammit. This man is so fucking dangerous.

Goddamit.

He chuckles.

Oh fuck.

He dips his hand into his back pocket and takes something there. Oh fuck that flexing forearm. If I grow a kink for a fucking arm, this bastard right here is solely the one to blame.

Another step forward is taken, his shiny shoes land on either side of mine, caging my feet within his presence. He towers over me as I try so hard not to choke myself due to my almost-snapping self-restraint to breathe this man in. His pheromone definitely does something to me. It’s so intoxicating.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, he traces his back fingers down my right, slender forearm. A familiar warmth settles upon my hand as he grasps it, sending me a wild surge of awakenings from his mere touch–of how he touched me the other time.

“Here,” he whispers, his breath feels nice on top of my head.

My brain still can’t process what he does, or whatever the thing he hands me until I feel something slip through my fingers and he moves in reflex to catch it.

“Woops, careful babe.”

His affectionate voice lands upon my ears and I’m so so so doomed.

“Phone?” I ask, confused.

“Yours.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you break your phone? You didn’t pick up my calls at all.”

Are you serious?! Dude?!!

“It’s the only reasonable explanation, isn’t it?”

I snort–mentally, of course.

“I could have gone to you the first time I made my–unfortunately–failed call but I was aboard that day. Sorry, I couldn’t make it anytime sooner than this.”

He suddenly takes the phone from my grip and leans closer, hand finding its way to tuck it inside my jeans’ back pocket until he finishes it with a gentle pat that stays a second too long there. “Can’t afford you breaking this one too, can we?” his whispers feel ticklish on my ears. A sudden rush of heat come surging to the tips of my ears, or my face in general, or my whole body–whatever, but I swear to God, I can bet that they look so red red right at this fucking moment.

“W-What–”

“I also have a lot of things to talk about. Let’s meet tonight?” he smiles and I know it wasn’t an offer. It was an order. Woah, such confidence should be a crime, no?

I focus my sight on the black shirt only a few inches away from my nose tip, trying as hard as I can to not imagine any unnecessary things, such as what lies beneath that mere fabric–oh fuck. I really need to stop thinking at all.

I can’t see it but it feels so obvious that he roots his gaze at me until his hand comes to tuck my hair behind my ear with such delicacy. Yet I can’t control the goosebumps standing on edge all over my body as his hand brushes slightly on my cheek.

“And the sweet marks I made down there are almost vanished completely. We might as well renew it later,” he says as his eyes glancing on my exposed neck.

I haven’t even made up my mind to utter a single reply when another attack–which is a quick peck on my temple and a simple ‘see you’–made their way to me. Then I see him walking backward with both his hands tucked inside his pockets and a smirk on his lips as if emphasizing his absolute glory in making my whole being a complete bust with his brief presence.

He tops this goodbye with a wink then swiftly turns around, walking toward his car and driving to the main road. The humming of its machine booms inside my whole world until it finally vanishes in the distance.

I don’t even realize how long I stand like a statue there until my watch beeps, reminding me of my original destination to get the anatomy book I’ve been queuing for two weeks to borrow.

What makes him so confident that I would come to see him again? I wonder. Even though Ino–the one who made the ‘one day rule’–has broken it herself, but I’d made myself clear to hold onto it ‘til the very end before I decided to jump right into this whirlpool of rich people shit.

“Huh? Where’s my student ID?” I rummage through my tote bag as the librarian waits to scan my ID. “I was sure I held it before I jogged here, but then–” oh shit. Holy fucking shit.

It’s only then I got the answer.

Damn that sly fox.

#naruhina fanfiction #writing warm up #I need unhinged mf Naruto 😵🧡#him being possessive aggressive would be the death of me

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milfgyuu · 2 years

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The Yo-Nut Slasher Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 2.3k, Humor, Spooky Stuff Prompt: “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?” Requested Anonymously Summary: Ur favorite Yo-Nut employees are back for a Halloween special. (From the ‘What’s My Age Again?’ AU)

Warnings: Language.

Halloween is always a busy night for the Yo-Nuts staff, including the late shift because what’s better than going home and digging into all that candy?

Apparently going out for frozen yogurt and donuts at one o’clock in the morning.

That’s what.

You and Jun whirl around each other behind the counter serving costumed vampires, werewolves, zombies, cheerleaders, celebrities, slasher villains, and tv show characters galore.

Seriously, you’ve seen like twelve Eddie Munsons from Stranger things in the past hour alone.

The toppings are running slim and there is only one bin of gummy bears left but thankfully closing time quickly approaches and people start filtering out around two thirty in the morning. You attempt to clean as you go but you’re shot from how busy it’s been. Jun is much the same as he half-heartedly cleans the counter, knocking sprinkles onto the floor he’ll have to sweep up later.

He’s still holding strong to that promise of cleaning the floors and bathrooms for all eternity.

“That’s it,” Jun sighs in relief, locking the doors and turning off all the neons in the windows. He flips the ‘Closed’ sign a little hastier than usual. “Hell night is over.”

You snort, turning down the lights. “It’s almost three am. The witching hour hasn’t even begun.”

Jun finishes cleaning the last of the tables and see’s you carefully closing out the computer system, pulling the cash drawer to take back to the office to count.

He can’t resist the urge - you’re just so vulnerable and unsuspecting. He sneaks up behind you and presses his fingers into your ribs, delighting in the terrified squawk you let out.

He’s lucky not a single penny spills from the drawer in your hands.

“If you tell anyone about the sound I just made, I’ll kill you,” you growl before turning around and glaring up at him, “And then I’ll dump your ass and you can be a lonely single loser for all of eternity.”

Jun grins. “You’re so hot when you threaten me.”

Damn him and his ability to make you laugh.

You retreat to the office and Jun cleans the floors and bathrooms - though it might be a little half-assed and a problem for day shift. The only thing left to do is shut down the serving station but he glances at it and instead decides to check on you and make sure you weren’t trying to bash in the poor old printer as he’d caught you attempting a few weeks back.

Printing the evening financials was decidedly the worst part of your job.

Thankfully, by the time he arrives, you’re already neatly stacking reports and stapling them together. The machinery still fully intact. Jun knows he’s not allowed to be all lovey dovey with you at work because you hate the PDA but no one is around so he leans over you to kiss the top of your head, smiling when he hears your soft hum of approval.

Something catches his eye in the large monitor that displays the footage from the security cameras and at first, he writes it off as his imagination but another flicker of motion has his brows furrowed as he leans over you. You complain about being smooshed beneath his frame but he clicks on one of the outside cameras, centering the footage and making it larger.

“Someone is hanging around by the dumpsters.”

You huff. “Yeah, probably a fat raccoon.”

“No, I’m serious.” His tone is far more firm than usual and you take a look at the screen. “That’s a person. They’re just…pacing back and forth.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you struggle to swallow it down.

“Maybe they’re drunk,” you hurry to rationalize why there would be a large, dark figure lurking behind your building, “There’s tons of Halloween parties and pub crawls going on.”

Jun grimaces, “...I don’t like it.”

You lay your hand over his and look up at him. “I’ll write a note for day shift and we can just leave the trash inside by the back door. My car is close to the front doors so let’s just finish what we need and go, okay?”

Jun glances back at the camera where the figure continues to pace back and forth, no sign of deviation from it’s short, repetitive path. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Even though you know you’re safe inside you don’t let go of Jun’s hand as you walk around ensuring everything is indeed locked up. Jun hits the lights as you go, blanketing everything in darkness until only a few service lights and the moonlight shining through the dining room windows illuminate your steps.

You make it just around the corner and behind the counter when Jun suddenly wraps his around around you from behind, one hand over your mouth, and he drops you both to the ground behind the serving station. Your eyes are wide in panic and Jun hushes you softly, his lips close to your ear.

“Don’t scream! Please don’t scream,” he repeats until you release the death grip on his wrist and try to slow your breathing. “Someone is outside trying to look into the windows.”

“M-maybe it’s just some idiot who doesn’t realize we’re closed.”

There’s a horrific sound that hits your ears and you both cringe. The sound of something sharp scratching glass.

You jolt in fear and accidentally knock Jun’s head against a metal cabinet. He groans but you quickly scramble out of his lap and plaster yourself next to him, curling your knees tight to your chest. You smack his thigh, telling him to do the same thing because his long legs stick out so far his shoes would be visible to whoever the hell is outside. He tucks them in and rubs the back of his head, instinctively ducking as there is a taunting knocking sound.

“This is not fucking happening,” you mutter to your self, “We’re not getting murdered in Yo-Nuts.”

Jun snorts and you cut him a glare. “What?” he whispers, “The headline would be a little bit funny.”

“I’m. Not. Laughing.”

He shuts right up and the silence is followed by tapping but it’s sharp, almost metallic. It makes your teeth hurt. Jun looks over at you trembling in fear and he tries to make you feel better.

“What if it’s like the hash-slinging slasher?” he attempts, “Right? Because he was actually just some guy with a spatula who wanted to apply for a job and he wasn’t scary at all!”

Your nails dig into your knees to keep from losing it and you look over at him, tilt your head, and grit your teeth. Jun shrinks.

“Except that was a SpongeBob episode and this is real life!” you hiss, “And we don’t fucking use spatulas here!”

So, that didn’t work.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, “Ok. We just need to think.”

The tapping is drowned out by a loud crunching sound and when you peer over at Jun, he’s managed to somehow reach back behind and above your heads to grab a mixed handful of crushed peanuts and chocolate chips out of the serving bins. He shovels it into his mouth and you shake your head at him.

“Ok, alright, we need to call the cops,” you mumble to yourself patting down both your apron and pants pockets, “Shit, where is my phone?”

More crunching but slightly varied. Likely another topping option.

Around a mouthful, Jun asks, “Did you leave it in the office?”

Yes. Yes, you did. It had almost fallen out of your pocket so you set it on the desk and then you got distracted by the creeper outside and you just wanting to get the hell out of here.

You hold out a hand toward your boyfriend and then close your fist around four multi colored sour gummy worms. With a hushed groan, you whip your head toward him, vision catching on the pink gummy worm hanging out the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widen curiously as you aggressively throw them away, the faint sound of them splattering somewhere in the kitchen again forgotten when the knocking and scratching picks up again. “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?!”

Jun gawks at you incredulously. “Babe! You know I eat when I’m nervous!”

You will every ounce of patience into your body. You love him. You really do. You don’t want to sacrifice him to the shadow man outside. Even though you could probably out run him. Or trip him. He’s got weaker ankles.

Ugh. Who are you kidding? You’d miss him too much.

Calmly and evenly, you try again, holding out your hand. “Jun, I need your phone.”

“I don’t have it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it? You always have it!”

He smiles awkwardly. “I left it at home because we were gonna be together all day anyways so I thought I uh…wouldn’t need it.”

You narrow your eyes and then gasp. “Oh my god! You’re downloading that stupid upgrade for your league game, aren’t you?!”

Jun sighs. “Well…yeah, but only because it takes like six hours and again,” he emphasizes with his brows and a wave of his hand over your body, “Love of my life. Right here. By my side. All day. Who else do I need to call?”

“I don’t know…maybe the police?! In case of an emergency! Like this!”

Jun nods. ”Right…yeah. Lesson learned there.”

You realize you need to get back to the office for the business phone but even if you crawl all the way there, you’d be visible for a brief portion of it. Tears spring to your eyes in both frustration and fear. You bury your face in your hands and Jun loops his arm around your shoulders. “Hey,” he says softly, “We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You lean into his embrace. All the frustration and anger peeling away to the reveal the very raw terror beneath. “I’m sorry for being so mean, Junhui,” you sniffle, pressing harder against his chest, “I’m so fucking scared right now.”

“I know,” he wraps his arms tighter, “I know. Me too.”

“I love you.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

A little reluctantly amused nose exhale is all he gets in response.

With Jun’s encouragement and warm touch that never wavers, he convinces you to make a run to the back office where the phone is located, and he locks the door from the inside. You make a frantic call out to emergency services and are forced to sit tight wait for them to arrive - both too nervous to do much more than share the single desk chair and huddle together anyway.

The cops find nothing aside from some scratches near the doors but the entire property was clear by the time you emerge from the building. Jun triple checks the alarm and quadruples his efforts on the locks. They determine it was probably just some kids playing a prank or like you had originally assumed, a drunkard out of his mind but probably harmless.

It isn’t until a week later, lazing about in Jun’s bed as you flicked through channels late at night that you got an actual answer to who was outside that night.

Your boss believed your story and hadn’t batted an eye about closing the shop early for the next two weeks - giving you and Jun much needed time off. It was spent much like this, in the apartment with you sitting up against the pillows and Jun laying on his stomach between your legs, long arms wrapped around your waist as he sleeps with his head on your thigh or stomach. You didn’t much care to sleep alone and Jun didn’t argue when you unofficially moved in for the time being.

The reporter’s voice on the news channel catches your attention.

“After multiple reports of local night shift workers being terrorized by an unknown ‘Shadow Man’ police have finally brought charges against a suspect they caught lurking near a downtown pub.”

“Babe,” you pat Jun’s bare back repeatedly, “Wake up and look at the tv!”

He lifts his heads and smacks his lips. There’s probably drool on you where his mouth has been but you ignore it. Jun turns his head at an awkward angle and blinks. “No dummy just roll over!”

He musters the energy and then very ungracefully rolls onto his back to rest his head and shoulders against your front. You wrap your arms around him and rub his chest, coaxing him back to the land of the living. “They caught the guy!”

Jun hums. “What guy?”

“Shh!”

‘....surveillance paid off when officers caught the thirty-seven year old convicted felon pacing in the alley way behind the pub’s back door the staff typically uses to take trash to the dumpsters. He’s been taken into custody though the full extent of charges being brought against him are still unknown.’

Jun’s heartbeat thuds hard & fast beneath your palm.

‘All reports mention taunting scratching, tapping, and knocking against glass and exterior doors and four of the six businesses were able to provide security footage showing an identical shadowy figure pacing in the same pattern near the rear exits and dumpsters. Although his motive is currently unknown, all reports came from vulnerable night shift employees who experienced this horror just minutes…’

Jun slips the remote from your fingers and switches something else on. Something more upbeat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look for a new job?”

You blink at him. “You want to leave Yo-Nuts?”

Jun snickers. He’ll never be over the company name. It’s the reason he applied.

“No,” he sighs, looking up at you as he shakes his head, “Not really. It’s easy and they overpay us. Plus...we get to work together.”

You smile, tipping your chin down to kiss his forehead.

“I don’t want to leave either.”

Jun shrugs, settling into his new comfy position and he holds your hands. “Then it’s settled. We’re staying. Take that, you Hash-Slinging Slasher wannabe.”

“Yeah…that guy definitely wasn’t applying for a job.”

Thanks for reading!

Halloween 2022 | SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

#halloween drabbles 2022 #svt fanfic #jun fanfic #svthub #caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #junhui fanfic #svt jun fanfic #wen junhui fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kpop fanfics #lana writes

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curseofaphrodite · 2 years

Note

How about the song ‘Seventeen’ by the Midnight with Steve Harrington?

CITY DREAMS | fluff

steve harrington x reader, no pronouns

You had just got your license, a fact that you were almost TOO proud of. You were happy enough to drive your dad's car through the neighborhood, occasionally howling with happiness. But as the road stretched on and the small houses morphed into city buildings, you didn't check the time or turn back.

A big part of you has always wanted this nighttime adventure.

Steve Harrington was almost freaking out. It was the first time he had come to visit the city, and like the idiot he was, he forgot the bus back to Hawkins only arrived once every day. He was stranded in every meaning of the word.

"Fuck!" he yelled out in frustration, kicking dust. He had walked as far as his feet could allow, but due to the darkness and his lack of local knowledge, he was surely, extremely, brilliantly lost.

He was not even in the city now, but going back seemed even more of a bad idea. Besides, if he walked anymore, his feet would fall out.

A light- no wait, two lights started growing bigger in the distance. Steve laughed in relief as a car came skidding down. It was coming fast, as if it was being driven by death herself. He had to think quick, which wasn't his forte.

So he threw himself to the middle of the road.

----

You hit the brakes, gasping.

----

He closed his eyes instinctively, but when he realized he hadn't been blown into smithereens, he slowly opened them again.

"Hi! Hey! Hello there!" he said hastily, coming up to the window, trying not to appear like a murderer. "Can I hitch a ride?"

"I'm not letting you in my dad's car when your hair looks THAT greasy," you said, earning a shocked gasp. "Also, you seem creepy in general."

He adjusted his eyes to squint, then saw you clearly for the first time. He accidentally held his breath.

"Wow, you're pretty."

"Okay, now you seem more creepy."

Steve quickly shook his head and cursed himself.

"No, just hear me out! Hawkins, do you know Hawkins? It's only a little distance from here but I don't know where I am- just help me out please."

"I can give you the directions," you said, sighing. "Walk for 20 minutes and you'll see a gas station. Turn right and ask for the church. You'll be on track by then."

"20 minutes? I have to walk for 20 more minutes?" he groaned, but then immediately backtracked his words. "You know what, you've been plenty of help. Thank you, I'll- I better get going."

"What were you doing out here anyway?" you asked just as he was about to straighten up. Maybe it was the guilt talking, but he did seem exhausted.

"I had to get some documents signed for my friend's college application. He sucks at official stuff. Didn't think it'd get so late."

"You're in college?"

"Gods no," he laughed. "I work part-time scooping ice cream. It's fun, I get a costume."

"Let me guess, magician?"

"Pfft, I'm a sailor."

You snorted. "I can totally see it."

"Surprisingly, it's one look I can't pull off," he shrugged. You didn't know what to say to that, so you opened the passenger door.

"Get in," you muttered half-heartedly.

"Are you sure—?"

"Just get in before I change my mind."

"Okay, okay!" His eyes lit up. He quickly sat inside and closed the door shut. "My name's Steve by the way. Steve Harrington."

You turned on the keys. "You can't be Steve Harrington. That's the name of the guy who screwed over my best friend."

"In that case, my name is Johnathan Harrington, his twin nice brother."

You laughed. "You're not as douchebag-y as she said, I'll give you that."

"Best compliment all week."

"You owe me ice cream," you said, starting the car properly.

As you drove down the street, Steve kept nervously rambling on, a trait he picked up from Robin.

Why, one may wonder. Simply said, it was the middle of the night — he was hungry, cold, and tired. Besides, whenever he turned sideways while talking, he'd say the most stupid shit and had to start over again.

Really fucking pretty, he thought, getting distracted every time.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve x reader #steve x you #stranger things imagine #fanfic #astoria writes #fluff #imagines #august letters;#tea with anons #💌 : requested

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myriadof-fandoms · 2 years

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harringrove week - day 1 - into the deep end

prompt: billy hargrove's switchblade

or: the gang find billy in the upside down

ao3

The upside down makes it hard to breathe. Steve remembers how much worse it had been in the tunnels, the air itself turning toxic and choking out whoever ended up down there. It’s somehow not as bad in the Upside Down itself, but the air is still somehow just wrong .

Deep breathing doesn’t do anything to help him get more oxygen into his body, it just makes him feel more like suffocating, the sticky air coating the inside of his mouth and nose unpleasantly.

It doesn’t help that his sides feel like he’s been set on fire. He can feel the wounds shift with every little movement he makes and each time it hurts like there’s teeth driving into his flesh anew. He tries to keep the sounds of pain to a minimum, no reason to worry anyone else, but he can’t help the sigh of relief when he recognises the Wheeler’s house up ahead. A place to sit and rest hopefully, if only just for a moment. And maybe Munson will shut up for like a minute.

Steve doesn’t want to hear any more praises about himself, or anything about Nancy loving him.

When they actually get inside the Wheeler’s house though it’s even less welcoming than Steve would have expected and rest shifts further away as a possibility, especially when Nancy bellows up the stairs without waiting for anyone.

Eddie and Robin hurry after her but Steve takes his time, trying to not move the makeshift bandage around his middle even more despite the fact that it does fuck all to stop the pain anyway.

The others are noisy in their ascend of the stairwell and maybe it’s that and the fact that he’s once again hit his head a couple of times recently but when he follows them, he swears he can hear Dustin’s voice somewhere.

Steve doesn’t dwell on it more though, not when he reaches the top of the stairs and is greeted with sudden silence and the bewildering view of the others standing stock still in the door to Nancy's room.

Fear spreads through him and he rushes forward, half expecting a monster in the middle of the bed, but when he moves behind the others to look into the room he stops as well. It’s not a monster, not really. At least he doesn’t think so.

It’s just a mullet wearing asshole that’s supposed to be dead.

Blue eyes narrow down on Steve immediately, burning into him, just like the smile burns that settles on Billy Hargrove’s face when he says, “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

Not a monster, definitely not a monster, Steve tells himself, no monster would know just how to make Steve blush and throw him off like this, replay the words he tries to forget, no monster would even know to pick Steve out of all of them as the center of Billy’s attention.

Unless maybe it's that fuckface Vecna and all of this is just happening in Steve’s head, created out of the hidden memories of Billy that Steve never acknowledges even to himself.

“What the hell?” Nancy’s voice drags Steve out of his quickly spiraling thoughts.

“Why, hello Wheeler, it’s nice to see you too,” Hargrove’s smile widens. He looks at ease somehow, sitting against Nancy’s headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, like that’s a place he’d ever be allowed on.

Eddie’s next to speak up, “Hargrove?” The blond’s eyes cloud over for a moment like he’s trying to place him and then the smile on his face changes just so, and now somehow looks genuine.

“Munson! Always up for a surprise. Didn’t know you ran with this crowd,” And then he’s wagging his tongue. That goddamn tongue Billy’s never kept in his mouth like any decent person and that goddamn tongue Steve still dreams about sometimes. “You don’t happen to be carrying some of your stash right? You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find weed-”

“How the fuck are you alive?” Steve bursts out without thinking.

He is too overwhelmed trying to match the man in front of him to the boy he saw die months ago to fucking think. Longer hair, ratty and wavy instead of curly, rags wrapped around his head to keep the strands out of his face. Dirt and grime all over him, maybe mixed with blood if the stains on his shirt are any indication.

His shirt . White wifebeater. The same one that Steve had seen be torn to shreds from the Mindflayer’s claws? For a moment he feels nauseous from the memory. Maybe it’s not the same though, he thinks, tells himself really, because Billy wasn’t wearing a worn-down leather jacket when he died and he is now. There also wasn't a backpack on him when he died and there's one on the floor next to him.

“Oh, the pretty boy still speaks. Well, Harrington, if the heart in a human body beats and pumps blood and occasionally the organs in that same body get some substance in form of water or food, or whatever passes as food, and by dumb luck isn’t eaten by some hellspawn during a nap, it’s actually easily able to stay in this state called alive. I think the better question is how are you here.”

“Came in through a gate. We can explain later but seriously, we saw you die,” Nancy says. “We went to your funeral.”

“Really?” Billy laughs. “Now, that’s just a bit hypocritical don’t you think? Acting like you gave a fuck just because you thought I’d bitten the dust. Bit tactless really, what would your mother think?”

There’s an edge to his words there, not the casual mania that has laced all his words so far, or the anger that was ever present when he was alive, but something different that Steve can’t place.

“What-” Nancy starts to say before interrupting herself, “Is that my diary?”

Steve is confused for a moment until he sees the little book in Hargrove’s hands. Pink like the diary that was always on Nancy’s bedside table when they started dating. Not blue like the one Steve saw in her room just the day before.

“Oh yes, it is.” Now Hargrove gets up, walking towards them in the same self-assured way he always had. “See, options of entertainment are a bit limited here, gotta read what I can get my hands on.”

He smiles like a shark when he leans in closer to Nancy, right into her personal space and holds up the book for her to grasp, “Too bad it ends before you gave it up to Harrington. Would’ve been interesting to see if what they said about King Steve held up to your standards, princess.”

He swiftly turns towards Robin and smiles at her the way he smiled at every pretty girl from Hawkins High, “Don’t think we ever officially met, I’m Billy Hargrove, resident haunting of this circle of hell.”

Robin looks a little stunned but gathers her wits to Steve’s delight. He has to suffer under her sass and wit and so should others, “I know who you are. We had English together.”

Steve is somewhat disappointed when Billy just fucking grins again, “Oh, I know, Buckley. I was being polite.” Robin looks skeptical at the idea of him remembering her and he scoffs lightly, “You didn’t like Steinbeck. Or Hemingway. Or our teacher.”

“Wait, what do you mean it ends?” Steve can’t quite understand how Nancy is focusing on that part out of all the things Hargrove just said.

But Hargrove laughs condescendingly, “What do you think I meant? It doesn’t continue.”

Nancy isn’t even listening though, she’s fumbling through the diary, thumbing past empty pages to the end and then she’s pushing past Billy and into the room.

“The wallpaper is wrong, and I gave that mirror away-” Nancy says while quickly moving from one side of the room to the other. She reaches up into her closet to pull out a shoebox, throwing off the lid just to stare at the shoes in there like they’re the last thing she expected. “My guns are gone.”

“Might be because this place is stuck in November 1983.” Hargrove’s voice is calm.

“What? How do you know that?” Steve asks.

“Found newspapers. All of them, and every calendar I’ve seen, ends in early November of ‘83.”

“He’s right,” Nancy speaks up again. “My diary ends there as well. November 6th, 1983. The day Will went missing. The day the gate opened. We’re in the past.”

Billy’s voice is bored when he says, “Welcome to Hell, where there’s no electricity and Ride the Lightning hasn’t been released.”

He pushes through them, looking down Steve’s chest and to the fabric around his waist before going towards the stairs.

“Oh my god, you haven’t heard Master of Puppets yet,” Eddie starts following him quickly.

“Sorry?” It’s not exactly the same bored tone Billy used to have but almost.

With a shrug Robin starts following the other two down and so does Nancy with an expression of barely contained rage mixed with confusion.

Steve really wants that break now. Instead, he starts towards the stairs as well, barely listening to the discussion between Billy and Eddie.

“Newest Metallica album. Best one yet.”

“Yeah, right,” Billy scoffs.

“No, seriously, you gotta hear Master of Puppets and Sanitarium-”

And it’s then that Steve hears it again. Dustin’s voice. He sprints down the stairs where he can hear it more clearly and starts shouting, which earns him four very concerned looks, until he explains quickly and then a little longer until they hear it too.

It takes a moment to figure it out, to find their way around the lights and even longer to attract Dustin’s attention and all the while Hargrove keeps back. His eyes shine when he touches the glimmering lights with them but he’s quiet. Steve doesn’t like it. A Billy Hargrove that’s not constant sharp words is one that he doesn’t know how to deal with.

Dustin tells them to wait in Nancy’s room until they can find more lights to talk through, and they’re barely back in the room when Billy gets out a switchblade from one of his boots.

“Is that a safe place for a knife?”

“Not like I'm in a very safe place to live either, Buckley.”

With a resolute move Hargrove pulls off the comforter from Nancy’s bed, revealing her sheets. Then he plunges his fucking knife into them.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Nancy gets right up in his face but Hargrove just sighs and barely looks at her while continuing to cut through the fabric.

“What? You still need them?”

“No, but-”

“Didn’t think so. Instead these are gonna replace whatever the fuck you guys put around Harrington because that shit can’t be clean and blood poisoning ain’t fucking fun.” Before Steve can even begin to comprehend that, Billy’s ripped the sheets apart to his satisfaction and straightened up, “C’mon, Harrington. Time to fix you up.”

“I don’t need-” Steve starts to say but Hargrove doesn’t let him finish.

“You’re bleeding through. And you don’t want the dirt from here in open wounds, believe me.”

Steve doesn’t look at anyone, especially not at Nancy, and he doesn’t allow himself to think, he just follows Hargrove out of the door.

The blond confidently walks towards the bathroom Nancy shares with Mike and Steve realizes it can’t be the first time he’s spent time in the house.

“Have you been staying here?”

Billy’s back somewhat tenses, “Only recently. I move around mostly, there’s food left in some houses. Some stuff keeps well. Others have clothes and other useful shit. Your house was a fucking blessing.”

Somehow this day really keeps getting more absurd to Steve, “You’ve been in my house?”

“Sure, stole my ax there. Your bed is real comfortable in this hell version in case you were wondering. Now sit down,” he gestures towards the bathtub.

Steve doesn’t have enough energy to argue. He sits down with a small wince and then his heart stops when Billy gets right up between his legs and drops to his knees.

The shock settles when cold hands start removing the knot Nancy had made in the piece of her clothing. When Billy pulls it away Steve can’t help the groan when the fabric sticks to his open skin and the crusted blood around it.

“Sorry,” the word comes out absentmindedly and yet again shocks Steve to his core. Billy doesn’t notice, he’s already up and moving away to the sink. He starts working on the faucet and to Steve’s surprise there’s actually a bit of water running out a moment later. Billy hums in self-satisfaction, “The hellhole doesn’t make it easy to survive but for some reason there’s water left in almost every house, at least a little.”

He gets some pieces of the sheets wet before he comes right back in Steve’s space and starts cleaning the wounds on Steve’s left side. Hargrove’s voice is tense when he speaks up again, “So, explain to me just how exactly you, the princess, Buckley from English class and Hawkins’ High best dealer ended up in a place like this.”

Steve does, at least he summarizes to the best of his ability. It’s distracting, keeps him from noticing the pain too much and surprisingly Hargrove is a good listener. He doesn’t interrupt Steve, only hums occasionally and asks the occasional question, mostly in regards to Max’ involvement.

“That’s what you were doing at the Byers’ house, right?” Billy quickly looks up while tying the new cloth around Steve’s middle. He can’t deny that this bandage is much better than the one before, it’s tighter and feels like it might actually stop the bleeding for a while.

“Yeah.” Steve tries not to get too distracted by the view of Billy between his legs, now with no actual reason for it. Billy hums again and then reaches out to hand Steve back Eddie’s vest that he’d just thrown down on the floor.

“Didn’t pick you for the DIO type, Harrington.”

“It’s Munson’s.”

Billy smiles, not happily though, even if for the first time, maybe ever in Steve’s presence, there’s something open in his eyes while he does. “You often wear his clothes?”

He’s saved from answering and the other man's body heat seeping into him from the proximity when Robin throws open the door and Billy jumps about a foot into the air before moving even further away quickly. Somehow it doesn’t feel much like saving.

Robin doesn’t react verbally but Steve can read her face well and he already dreads the questions he’s going to have to deal with later.

“C’mon, hurry up, we can stitch up Stevie better in our world anyway. Henderson found us a gate home.”

Riding a bike is about as uncomfortable as walking with open wounds on either side of his torso Steve finds. The seven miles to Eddie’s trailer feel more like a hundred to him.

“And I’m just saying, Buckley, if anybody ends up in the Guinness World Records for most miles traveled interdimensionally it’ll be me.”

Steve doesn’t quite know how the discussion between Billy and Robin started but it forms the background noise when they get to the trailer park. He’s just busy trying not to inhale more of the weird dust and kind of wonders how the two of them manage to bicker without inhaling loads of it.

To no one's surprise the gate looks creepy as hell. It certainly doesn't help that it’s marking the exact place where Chrissy died according to Eddie. Nor the fact that something in it moves.

“What the hell is that?”

As if to answer Eddie the gate breaks through.

They all stumble back and Steve nearly falls but then there are hands on his arms keeping him upright and he feels a solid chest against his back. Right back in Hargrove’s personal space it appears. He’s going to dream about this day forever. Senior year Steve is going green from jealousy. Present day Steve quickly gathers enough braincells to realize he should check out the threat that might come through the gate any moment.

The threat that turns out to be the kids with fucking sticks. Steve feels so relieved he could cry when he hears Dustin's shout.

They wait for the kids to assemble something for them to land on and Steve tries not to notice that Billy stays away from the opening the entire time, away from the sight of the kids, away from Max. He does notice though and carefully, slowly, inches back until he’s leaning against the wall too. It doesn’t seem fair that Hargrove has to hide alone.

“Maybe I should stay here.” He says it quietly enough that Steve knows the others aren’t meant to hear, but they’re too busy watching the kids anyway.

“Dude, are you insane? Your sister is going to kill me if I leave you here.”

“She’s not my-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. When she thought she was dying she forced me to drive her to your grave to say goodbye, you better fucking accept that’s your sibling whether you’re related or not.”

There’s something open on Billy’s face again, something vulnerable. Maybe some hope? But mostly Steve realizes that he looks scared. And Steve remembers some of the things Max had told him in the months Billy’s been gone, the few times she would let him drive her home, the little things about her stepdad and things at home. And he remembers some of the bruises on Billy’s skin that never quite made sense until Max said more. “You know your dad left. Max and her mom live alone now.”

There’s a quiet sound of pain coming from Billy and he closes his eyes quickly. Steve wonders if he’s said the wrong thing but doesn’t get to apologize when the arrival of a rope interrupts their conversation.

He steps closer to the others again, watches first Robin and then Eddie climb up and fall down back into their world.

He steadies Nancy while she climbs and when she lands safely on the other side Steve sees Max, headphones around her neck, help her get back up.

He turns back to Billy, “You know, you were missed, right? Max has been grieving you for months. She hasn’t been the same. She's fucking lost. And I’ve started talking to Tommy and Carol again. They got engaged. When Tommy gets drunk he starts talking about how he wants to name their first son Billy. They both don’t deal well with you being gone.”

He can hear Dustin call his name, surely confused about who Steve is talking to, but Billy still looks unsure. So Steve takes another dive into the unknown - like the last one shouldn’t have taught him to never do that again.

“I missed your stupid fucking face, alright? I’m not leaving you here just so I can go on missing it. Now, get on that fucking rope.”

Steve holds his breath. Waits for the surface to swallow him whole.

Billy steps into the line of sight and Steve hears the sudden rise in noise on the other side, the kids trying to figure out who else is with him. He can’t really be bothered to listen when Billy is so close to him again though.

“If we somehow survive the next few days you’re taking me out to dinner, you got that, Harrington? And we’ll have a chat about what you just said.” Blue eyes are looking straight into Steve’s and he tries to memorize their exact shade because he spent the entire time he thought Billy dead trying to recall it and failing.

“Sure.”

“Good,” Billy reaches out towards the rope and heaves himself to the other side. Steve has had a shit fucking day but he can barely contain his smile when he follows him.

#HarringroveWeek #stranger things #harringrove #harringrove fic #mimi writes #god idk i guess i'll add tags sometime #harringrove harvest

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saintsofwarding · 1 year

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EMBRYO

Chapter 5: Burger Fool

"No," the diner guy said.

"No?" Rose echoed.

"You heard me. No."

"No job, you mean? No...what? Why?"

"Yeah, no job." He ticked off on his meaty fingers. "...Yeah, no job, and 'cause we aren't hiring kids, Miss..." He glanced down at her application. "Uh...Winners?"

"Winters," Rose said. "Why the hell not?"

"You're sixteen. I ain't doing that whole teenage-drama song and dance again. Not after last time. Come back in two years or whatever." He looked her over doubtfully. "If you want to work here that bad, I guess."

Rose glanced around the diner, which was, non-encouragingly, called Vinnie's Meat Hut. A few exhausted-looking patrons slouched at booths and window tables, sadly munching plates of anemic fries and burgers that looked as if they might cause cardiac arrest on contact.

"Come on," she said under her breath. "I'm...young and hip. I could really...bring a fresh perspective into...you know, the day to day..."

"Fresh perspective," the manager said.

"Yeah. I could wash dishes, too, if you don't want me waitressing. Or I could...um...take out the trash."

"Take out the trash," the manager said.

"Please," Rose said.

"No."

"Please?"

"Kid, you need money that bad, go ask your mommy."

Rose blinked, then put on a sad face with big eyes. "I don't have a mommy," she whispered. "Or a daddy. They died when I was three."

"Cancer?"

"Brain."

"Both of 'em?"

"It was contagious."

"Get the fuck outta here."

Rose let out a huff, turned, and stomped out. She couldn't resist throwing up a middle finger before she went through the door.

The manager returned the gesture half-heartedly.

Rose stood on the diner's stoop, staring out at the rainy morning. Today was Friday, thank God. She needed the weekend badly. She hadn't gotten any homework done that week on account of the stuff with Sam and, of course, the monster.

The monster.

Heisenberg had said nothing about the previous night- not that Rose had given him a chance. She'd left before he even emerged from his room, stuffing handfuls of granola bars into her pockets so she didn't even have to stick around for breakfast. She'd barely slept- her second night in a row without much sleep- and now her eyes were itchy, her brain half-congealed concrete. Still, her ankle felt almost healed. One good thing about her power: she healed really, really fast. She'd never got worse than a broken bone, but even that had been better in a week. That had been tough to explain to the elementary school; Rose suspected Heisenberg had employed threats and intimidation to keep those concerned from looking into it too deeply.

Morning traffic rushed past, horns squabbling, pedestrians pushing by, on their way to work or school. The night before, this street had been ominous, dark and abandoned, but now in the gray daylight looked back to normal. Halloween decorations hung in shop windows, and a news-stand owner across the way was sat by his stand on a folding chair, portable radio by his side, listening to the reports.

Rose edged closer. She ambled across the street, ducked under the news-stand's awning, picked out a magazine, pretended to read. ...Light showers all across Regent City and the coast...looks like our October's only going to get colder, folks, better bundle up those kids for trick-or-treating...three-car pileup on I-60, no one badly hurt...Mt. Calyx hospital reports that...

Rose allowed herself a moment of relief. Maybe...maybe it had been chalked up as a fluke...maybe...

...More information on last night's subway attack...

Her spine went stiff.

...No casualties. A survivor and eyewitness to the perpetrator is currently in stable condition. While wild dogs are rare in Regent City, we do warn all our listeners that...

"Wild dogs?" Rose said, out loud.

The stand owner looked up sharply. "Hey," he said. "You gonna buy that?"

Rose glanced down at the magazine. Engines Quarterly. Heisenberg didn't have this edition yet. It had just come out.

"Yeah," she said. "Actually, I am."

Heading to school on the city bus, Rose hunched down in the seat, glanced around, then got out her phone. It was a super-shitty old one- Heisenberg had tried to juice it up too, but there was only so much he could do- and it took a long time for anything to load. Once it did, she scanned the breaking news articles one after another, trying to see if Mara or anyone else had mentioned her. Most of the articles agreed that it had been wild dogs. One posited that someone had gone psycho after snorting horse Viagra- apparently maulings were a common side effect of that activity- though judging from the comments section it wasn't a widely shared theory.

By the time Rose reached her stop the relief was enough to get her sluggish self off the bus and into school. Still, she tugged her knit hat down, like that would hide her face, and hunched into her coat, trying to get from class to class with as much speed as possible.

The conversation in her classes was a buzz on the edge of her awareness. Parties, Halloween events, weekend plans. Someone mentioned the subway incident, but it was more about how metal it was that there had been an animal attack in the middle of Regent City. No details. Rose's mind kept drifting to her ill-fated interview at Vinnie's Meat Hut. Ugh, she shouldn't have been such a brat. She needed money. She needed...

Just talk to Heisenberg.

Just talk.

She cut off her thoughts with a shake of her head. No. She had to do this herself. Besides, he was keeping things from her. Big things. If he was gonna know about what she was up to, he had to earn it.

When the bell rang for lunch, she didn't head with her friends to the lunchroom. Instead, she made a beeline for the library. The hush enfolded her, a few other students hunched over reading tables or sitting in the computer lab. Rose claimed a computer, logged in, and navigated to the search engine. Glancing to and fro, she hunched a little further forward before taking the metal disc from her pocket.

It gleamed in the light from the computer screen. She set it on the edge of the keyboard, then typed in

EMBRYO

Nothing, of course. Just the usual definition, wiki, et cetera. Embryo test and project embryo turned up even fewer results- just articles about artificial wombs, lab rats, in vitro shit. Rose stuck out her tongue as she scrolled through the image results, then, with a spike of frustration, shut down the search engine and left the computer lab for the library front desk.

The librarian looked up as she approached. It was the same one as the day before, a mid-thirties woman with a braid over her shoulder.

"'Scuse me," Rose said. She slapped the disc down on the desk. "Can I look up barcodes here?"

She looked up from her computer. "...What? Is this for a project?"

"Yeah. Research project. Big thing. Really important." Rose lifted her eyebrows. "So can I? Scan barcodes?"

"Um..." The librarian's eyes flicked to the disc. She smiled a little. "You're...Rosemary, right?"

"Rose."

"Rose, I think this...what is this? A dog tag?"

"Sort of."

"Well," she said, indulgently, "I think you'd need the database for whatever...whatever data is on this if you wanted the code to lead to anything. Right?" Her smile turned apologetic. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Sure. Yeah. No, it's okay," Rose began. Dumbass. Of course. "I, just, I-"

"Rose."

She went stiff. She stared down at the desk for a couple seconds, then turned.

Sam stood behind her, hands in her jean jacket pockets, staring down like Rose had just been staring. Dark circles cut under her eyes, her brows drawn together. She kind of looked like she'd been crying. Rose looked around, but none of Sam's friends were anywhere to be seen.

"What do you want?" Rose said.

"I...look..." Sam squeaked her boot along the ground. "I understand if...if you want to tell me to shove off, but..."

"A little bit, yeah."

Her eyes flicked up. She had been crying, Rose realized with a pang. Her eyes were red and puffy, the skin under them pearlescent.

"Can we talk?" Sam said. "Somewhere else?"

Rose opened her mouth. "Yeah," she said. Her voice was soft. "Yeah, of course."

They ended up in the alleyway. The same one as before. The dumpster was back upright, the dog monster's black blood entirely washed away by the rain. The air smelled crisp, clean. Rose sat on the steps, while Sam paced back and forth in front of her.

"So?" Rose said. "Talk."

"I..." Sam stopped. She let out her breath. Then she reached in her bag and brought out her phone. "I know Mara."

The air seemed to siphon from Rose's lungs. Her vision shocked white.

"What?" she said.

"Yeah. I mean...sort of. My friend, Necro, he's in band with me...they went to middle school together. She goes to East Regent High now, but...he knows her. And he was texting her in the hospital. And she said..." Sam scrolled through her phone. "She said...a girl saved her. A blonde girl. With black stuff that came out of her. Someone told her not to talk about it, but she couldn't keep quiet about who saved her. She said...this girl...drove the monster away."

"The monster," Rose whispered.

Sam nodded.

"It was you," she said. "Wasn't it?"

Rose looked at her hands. She drew in a slow breath. As she did, black veins twined through her skin, undulating slightly, like living things. She clenched her fists and they retracted. Sam didn't move. She stood there, watching her with dark, unreadable eyes.

Rose nodded.

"Monster attacked me last night," she said. "I took care of it."

Sam let out a laugh. The sound of it bordered on the hysterical. "Took care of it? You freaking hit it with a subway train, dude!"

She couldn't help but smirk. Heisenberg would be proud. "A little bit."

"That totally beats your goth hobo dad's stop sign maneuver, hands down."

"He's not my real dad," Rose confessed.

"...Huh?"

"He kind of saved me from, among other things, a draconic vampire lady's psychic nightmare dreamscape palace when I was a baby. He's been taking care of me ever since."

Sam took this all in with a blink, but all she said was "And he's...like you?"

"Pretty much."

"Good thing he's not your real dad," Sam said. "I'd hate to meet your mom."

Rose snorted. She doubled over with laughter; it kept coming, snorts and hiccups, uncontrollable; her eyes began to water. Sam started to laugh, too, one hand pressed to her mouth. She leaned against the far wall, her smooth brown throat open to the cool air. Warmth radiated in the pit of Rose's stomach, and despite her exhaustion, her aches and pains, the distance still between her and Sam, she couldn't help but be glad to be here, now, with her.

Their laughter died, and the silence came in once more.

"The way I talked to you..." Sam began.

"You were scared. I get it."

"Not just that." She looked down. "My aunt lived in Raccoon City."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She and my mom...they were super close. After...after what happened...after they just...never found her..." Sam shook her head, her gaze faraway. "My mom was apparently never the same. She's..."

She cut off.

"This stuff," she went on, "these...things. They've destroyed so many people's lives. They've taken so much away from so many. I was...I was scared, yeah. But...I didn't want to be scared of you...just of...of that."

The corner of Rose's mouth quirked in a tiny smile. "That?"

"You know." She wriggled her fingers. "That!"

"Are those my tentacles?" Rose said, letting her voice go sepulchral on the last word.

"Well, I can't summon them, so yeah."

Rose nodded.

"I get it," she said. "But, Sam...this power. These things I can do..." Her throat tightened. "They are me. Don't you understand? I can't put them down. I can't ever be apart from them. I...sometimes, I wish..."

She cut off, then began again. "They are me," she said again. "And. And you get all of me, or you don't get me at all."

Her face was hot, but her voice hadn't shook. Sam still stared at her. Her eyes were bright in the trace of weak sunlight from above. A momentary break in the clouds.

"Can you accept that?" Rose said.

Sam paused. Then-

She nodded.

"I think so," she said.

"Good," Rose said. "I need your help. You said Mara told you guys that someone told her not to talk?"

"Yeah."

"You have any money for flowers?" Rose said. "Because we've got a hospital to visit."

***

"Fuck school," Sam said, starting up her car.

"You're, like, a straight A student," Rose said.

"That's why I can say fuck school." She backed out of the school lot and they were off. "I've earned school-fucking privileges."

The drive to Mt. Calyx grew darker by the minute, the afternoon's brief respite from the rain over. Raindrops spattered Sam's windshield as they drew closer. Rose's hands were clammy; she tried not to fidget, but she picked at a hole in her jeans anyway. Sam glanced over, but said nothing. From the line between her eyebrows, she was a little leery, too.

Mt. Calyx rose above the surrounding buildings. It was built atop one of Regent City's hills, sloping up from the docks district to overlook the city below. The hospital was an imposing steel-and-glass structure with extensive, tree-lined grounds, its name done in bright teal lights across its front facade. After parking, Rose and Sam dawdled by the car, shivering in the chill wind, staring up at the building.

"Kind of creepy, don't you think?" Sam said. "Hospitals, I mean?"

"I've never really been inside a hospital before."

"You serious?"

Rose nodded. "Me and Heisenberg, we...kind of heal on our own. With him, there's some extra organs to deal with-"

"Extra- what, now?" She shook her head. "Long story, right?"

"They all are." In the long years of her child-and-tween-hood, Rose and Heisenberg had bounced from cheap apartment to cheap apartment, motel to abandoned warehouse, never staying for more than a couple years, tops. They'd watched a ton of television- together, sometimes, Heisenberg making constant observations and jokes at the expense of the characters, but mostly Rose alone, huddled under a blanket, staring at the screen, waiting for Heisenberg to come back. It was all kind of a mystery. With his powers, he could have done anything, made fuckloads of cash, become famous, but he never had. Back then, Rose hadn't questioned it- it was the two of them against the world, and no one else mattered- but now she wondered if it hadn't all been for her benefit, if he'd stayed under the radar to keep her under the radar in turn.

Once she would have chalked that up to pure love.

Now?

She couldn't think about that right now, couldn't think about him. Point was, they'd watched a lot of hospital dramas. A lot. Rose knew the procedure, even if she'd never experienced it.

"Come on," she said. "Let's not keep Mara waiting."

They made their way through the sliding doors and into the hospital proper. The lobby smelled subtly luxurious, paneled in wood, the lights kept tastefully low, but under the muffled murmur of conversations and the music played softly on hidden speakers, Rose detected a tang of something like disinfectant, chalky and stinging.

Her nerves prickled. She shoved her hands in her pockets in case her mold started to show. Sam went and spoke to the front desk person, who handed out clip-on visitor's badges and a hospital map.

"She's in the recovery wing," Sam said, returning to Rose. "Room D-6- oh! Look! A shop. Perfect."

She went to the gift shop and bought a bouquet of pink flowers. As she did, Rose's phone began to vibrate. An unknown number. That would probably be Heisenberg. She chewed her lip. Shit, had the school called Heisenberg or something? Usually he couldn't care less whether or not she skipped out on class. After last night had he decided to play responsible-parent after all?

She shoved it back into her pocket and hurried to Sam's side. This time of day, the hospital was quiet, a few nurses chatting in a break area, a doctor working at a computer in a glassed-in office. Rose kept glancing around, then reminding herself not to look suspicious.

"Don't look suspicious," Sam whispered.

"I know!"

"We're not doing anything wrong, we're just visiting a friend."

"I know," Rose said again. She stared down a hallway, pale green walls giving the light an underwater quality. "I just...weirds me out, is all. This place. I..."

She trailed away.

A memory. Suddenly. Like it had walked through a door in her mind. That smell. Chemicals and disinfectant, medical supplies and- mold. A woman's voice, singing her to sleep. Hush, now, child, the wolves are coming, hush, I pray you, hush, or they will make your worries their meal...

The language was unfamiliar, lulling and strange. But Rose recognized every word. She heard it, even now. Faraway, faraway. That song.

Her eyes- golden?

A place deep underground.

Pulse. The hallway was no longer a hospital, modern and clean, but the rocky, lightless cave passageway. The glitter of crystal, the rumble of something underfoot. Something deep, and old. Something sleeping.

Something waiting.

Another pulse. The memory left her. She was back in her body, but she was cold, still staring, white shocking into her vision with each heartbeat. She felt the slick squirm of her mold through her skin, tightening around her heart. Was this a panic attack? Heisenberg wasn't here. He wasn't here. Oh, shit, was she gonna freak out? She needed him bad. She needed-

A warm hand clasped hers. She jumped with a gasp. Sam stared up at her, concern bright in her eyes.

"Rose?" she said.

Her breathing sounded jagged, strangled.

"I..." she began. She and Sam shuffled to the side as a couple nurses walked past, barely giving them a second look. "I'm...I saw...I thought..."

She looked down the hallway, but it was no longer natural rock traced into form by a lantern held aloft, picking out the glitter of crystals growing from the walls, just a regular-ass hospital hallway. The panic slowly ebbed; warmth came back into her limbs.

Sam's grip on her helped.

She realized just how hard Sam was holding her hands, and heat rushed into her face so fast she was surprised her head didn't straight-up explode. She jerked her hands from Sam's. Sam's eyes widened a little, then dipped to her boot toes.

She stepped back.

"I..." Rose started- to apologize, maybe- holding your hands makes me feel way too much right now and I just can't- I'm sorry, Sam, I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you again-

She didn't go on.

"It's okay," Sam said. She gave Rose a wry smile. "Hey, if you'd passed out or something at least we're already at the hospital."

"Funny," Rose told her. Still, she managed to return Sam's smile.

As they left, she glanced down the hall once more.

Empty.

An echo of singing traced her mind.

Hush now, child. The wolves are coming.

***

They found Mara's room on the next floor up.

The nurse on duty let them in. "She's been through a lot," she told them. "Take it easy, okay?"

"Don't worry." Sam gave her her most winning smile. "We're not gonna bite."

Rose dug her elbow into Sam's ribs as the nurse left.

"What?" Sam said, with a wheeze.

Inside, the lights were turned low, the room's single window washed by rain. The television was on, casting pale light over the hunched shape of a girl in the bed. Her long auburn hair hung loose around her shoulders; her eyes were bruised. She lay with one leg bandaged, tubes leading from the crook of her arm to the saline bag on a stand nearby, her gaze unfocused and lowered. When the door clicked shut, she gave a little gasp and whirled.

"Hi, Mara," Sam said, giving her a wave.

"Sam?"

"Yep. And look who I brought with me." Sam stood aside. Mara's eyes widened.

"Oh, my god," she breathed. "It's you."

"Again. Yeah. I didn't get to introduce myself before," Rose said. She ventured forward and sat by Mara's bedside. Behind her, Sam put the flowers into an empty mug on a counter. "I'm Rose. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thanks to you. I thought that thing was gonna eat me." She scrambled awkwardly forward and before Rose could react caught her up in a hug. Rose stiffened, then put her arms, slowly, around Mara. It's okay, she told herself. This is okay.

"Thank you," Mara whispered. She pulled back, her eyes bright. "What was it, anyway?" She gave her a quick glance-over. "...You're not another one, are you?"

"No! Not...uh. Not like that, anyway. That's kind of what I'm here to find out. To make sure you were all right, and to get more information."

"Sure. Anything."

"Is there anyone else here?"

"My mom's just stepped out to go grab some stuff from home-"

"No," Rose said. She looked back toward the windows that looked out to the corridor. Sam quickly whisked the blinds shut. "Not your mom. You said someone didn't want you talking about what really happened. All the papers say it was a wild dog attack, but that's bullshit. Tons of people saw the monster. No matter how scared you are you're not gonna confuse a six-foot strawberry jello monster for a pack of wild anything."

Mara stared at her as she talked, fiddling with her hospital gown. The rain cast eerie shadows over her face.

"They warned me to shut my mouth," she said. "They told me...they told me it would be...bad for the public if I didn't...that it wouldn't do anyone any good to talk about things I didn't understand..."

"Listen." Rose took the Embryo disc from her pocket and held it up. "I found this in the monster's remains. The monster was the fifth test. Don't you get it? Someone is sending these things out. Someone is making them. And if I don't stop it, more people are gonna get hurt."

Mara's eyes shone in the light from the television screen, the sound turned down to a low murmur nearly drowned out by the rain.

"She showed up right after the doctors finished with my leg," she whispered.

"She?" Rose asked. "Who's she?"

"I..." Mara began. "I thought she was part of the hospital staff...a therapist or something. She was wearing, like, nice clothes under a white coat but she wasn't one of the other doctors. She had this...thing? Like a phone but smaller, and it flashed, and it felt like everything I saw in the subway was getting sucked out of my head. And then she told me not to say anything about it."

"Do you remember anything else? What she looked like? Any kind of...symbols she was wearing? Anything?"

Mara shook her head. "When she flashed that thing her face went fuzzy. I could see it but not, you know? Like my eyes wouldn't focus but it was my brain."

Rose glanced at Sam. The other girl's face was paler than normal, her arms crossed over her stomach.

"Okay," Rose said. "I-"

Her phone began to buzz again. "Sorry," she muttered, and looked at the screen. Another unknown number. Jesus, would he keep calling her until she picked up?

"Hang on," she said. "It's my...just hang on..."

She went over to the window. "What?" she said into the phone.

"Kid? That you?"

"Yes. I'm...kind of busy right now."

"What's going on? You're not doing anything stupid, are you?"

"Would you be able to tell the difference?"

"Cool it, pipsqueak. This fucking-" Something clattered, and he yelled indistinctly at it for a few seconds before returning. "-Fuckin' school of yours said you were gone-"

"Yes, and now I'm busy, so if you don't mind-"

"Don't you hang up on me! You need to get your ass home, you hear me? Get it home, now, or tell me where you are and I'll come and get you, I swear to-"

His voice hissed into static. Rose looked at the phone.

"Heisenberg?" she said.

"-don't- dangerous- need-" More static. With a crackle, the signal dropped, the call lost.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, still too-pale.

"I...I'm not sure-" Rose began.

Voices echoed down the corridor. Sam peered through the blinds, then looked back up. "Shit," she said.

"What?"

"We need to move," she said. "I think someone's coming."

#re8 #re8 fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil village #rosemary winters #karl heisenberg #rosemary winters x oc #chapter 5

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horce-divorce · 2 years

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man buying weed used to be so exciting bc it was like "Look at me, I can go to the weed store!" but now dispo day is just another errand I dread running and a bill I dread paying...

and like i have a hard time making choices? esp when this is the ONLY thing I have money for, so it matters a LOT that I buy stuff that will keep working for me, bc if I don't I'm just screwed then, but for weed buying what is most effective is NOT the same as what's most economical and seeing as I have NO income this is really not an ideal situation ykw i mean.

like it would be most economical for me to buy the $75 oz. But I am not going to do that because getting to where I can smoke, grinding the weed, packing the bowl, and then actually smoking it are all SUCH fucking joyless, awful chores for me now and it's really just not accessible. I can't be doing all that and wasting precious time if I'm having a nausea attack. Im really not allowed to smoke in my room for the most part. there are days where I cant get downstairs, grind and pack a bowl because my tremors are too bad or my hands are too painful or whatever.

that's why i like vapes, cus they're so quick. but they are also smoking, cause more wheezing, are just harsh and nasty... and again the most medicinally effective ones (1:1) are usually not available to me, and are more expensive when they are, and even when they're what I want, you still have to mitigate tolerance and not be hitting that shit all the time

i really wanna try RSO again both for tolerance purposes and because, like shopping for the weed, I have come to hate smoking. I don't enjoy it at all anymore. It used to be such a relief and now it's like "great I have to take my meds again." I hate constantly coughing and wheezing, I hate having to go outside multiple times per day just for smoke, I hate getting resin on my lips from the bong, I hate gagging from the taste, I hate coughing my eyeballs out for an hour every single time I need to eat.

but RSO is tricky!!! it's hit or miss for me bc if I take it wrong my body processes it like an edible (i.e its wasted and does nothing). It HAS to be sublingual. As a result I don't have my dosages worked out for RSO, so it's a MUCH riskier thing for me to buy than, say, the oz (even tho that's not the thing I need. My poverty brain still tells me Its Just What You Can Afford).

on the other hand I can smoke a half oz in about a week if I don't try to mitigate the tolerance issue (i.e. switching methods and strains every few days). So then it's not really even that economical and doesn't end up lasting longer than RSO anyway.

anyway if u cant tell today is weed day and i have adhd and as I'm sure you can imagine this is very difficult for me

#me #weed t #prsnl #then there's also the creeping fear tha #that 1/2oz a week is simply The Dose I Actually Need #I cant afford 2oz a month. I fucking cant.#i still only own 1 pair of stained gross sweatpants. and 2 pairs of boxers. bc I cant afford anything but weed. and not even that really.#sometimes you can get Old Pal (1/2oz) 3 for $120 not incl tax #and those are pre-ground so thats ok #but I cant afford that!!#i never have that much $ at once.#Weed Jesus please take the wheel

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the-thorns-to-your-rose · 2 years

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Chapter 1

The Son of Heroes

I blinked my eyes open. The sun was blazing at me. I grumbled, cursing the morning for coming so early. I have never really been a morning person, despite the fact that both my mother and father tend to be happy and chipper at five am. I prefer to sleep as late as possible, which, unless I am alone, was ten am.

I put on my slippers and robe and walked downstairs. My parents happily greeted me with more energy than I could muster up after drinking espresso. I grunted in response, pouring himself a cup of coffee and shoving bacon into his mouth.

"That's just rude," my mother stated.

"Can't even give us a proper greeting, son?" My father commented.

I rolled my eyes, "Morning. Or whatever."

"Thats better, I guess," my father said, wrapping his arms around my mother.

It sickens me, just how perfect they are. To everyone, they look like the model couple. Lovey-dovey even after twenty-two years of marriage. To me, they look fake. Never have I heard them argue or even disagree. It's so weird to me. No relationship can be that perfect.

"You've got training in an hour, sweetie. It's almost time for you to go up against the new Villain heir. He hasn't taken the throne yet-" Meda smirks-"but I'm sure the time is coming soon. Train all day and maybe you can have dinner tonight. After all, you already eaten five pieces of bacon. You really need to stay in shape."

I want to yell. I was in shape. I haven't eaten dinner in the past two days, and I haven't had lunch for the past week. I keep collapsing during training. It's fine, though. Once I go up against that Villain heir and defeat him, I can eat feasts every night. It's all for the greater good.

~🌹~🌹~🌹~

After an intense workout at the gym, I blacked out for half an hour. Luckily, my parents were out stopping petty crimes, so I didn't get yelled at for being too weak. Next was weapons training. I hate training with weapons, since my parents make me hurt and kill innocent animals as practice. They say the plush and straw dummies used by our bodyguards aren't good enough for a hero like me. That makes me question why we even have guards, but I know not to ask. Questions get you hurt.

I stared at the assortment of weapons on the table. There were guns, staffs, bats, throwing stars, you name it. Our family had powers, but we were to never underestimate how helpful weapons could be in some situations. I only trained my powers on the weekend, training with weapons and hand-to-hand combat during the week.

As I fell into the rhythmic calm of training, I allowed my mind to drift. I would have to fight this Villain heir soon, and yet I had been told next to nothing about him. I knew that he was my age, and what horrible crimes he had committed, but that was about it. I didn't even know if the Villain family had powers. Anytime I had asked, my parents told me that knowledge came with time and necessity. It wasn't a surprise, since they barely talk to me anyways. I just wish I knew more about my opponent. What if he already knows everything about me? What if we're both going in blind? It would help me train if I knew.

I twirled my staff, noticing my vision beginning to go dark again. I stop and drop my weapon, sitting down on the cool tile floor. I know for a fact that mom and dad are both out today, so no one would yell at me if I got a quick snack. As I got up, slowly to avoid a dizzy spell, I noted that I should get more sleep. I was exhausted on top of being dehydrated and barely eating, which couldn't be helping me.

I walked into the kitchen, sighing in relief as I opened the fridge. The cool air felt amazing on my hot, sweaty skin. I pulled out a few grapes from the bag, silently praying that my mother wouldn't notice when she got home.

Today was a pretty good day, I think.

#writers #my story #original story #lgbtq+#gay #romance story

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slutdge · 4 years

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#yeah im gonna like. keep it real with u.#i was doing really good this week #even though withdrawals have been kicking my ass because ive been trying to get clean and stop. ruining my life.#but ive just lost all motivation now and it hasnt even been that long i know i know i KNOW #like i just dont know what else to do when i feel like this #like i remember that my life is never going to amount to anything and that i dont mean anything to anybody so i have a hard time seeing the #point at all #like im never going to be happy so why cant i just have some temporary relief from that like i dont fucking understand #so then i spent like an hour carpet surfing and found a few crumbs and ive just been wringing my hands together for like half an hour #just looking at it cause i just need something i feel like im dying right now and its fucked up as hell i know that #but like i dont know whatvelse to do and i cant calm down im climbing up the fucking walls right now #like its bad. its really bad. its never been this bad before just realizing that theres no point in everything and feeling awful constantly #and i dont wanna fall back into this i really dont but im scared and im upset and i dont know what else to do i just drive myself crazy #its so fucking stuoid and im such a fucking idiot i hate this so fucking much #i cant like i cant i cant i cant like i cant keep living like this im so alone and everyone fucking hates me and it hurts bad all the time #i just wanna matter i wanna be accepeted and loved by people and forget the pain of my entire family abandoning me #its like i dont even wanna use to use anymore #its like i wanna use because i dont know what else to do #i built my whole identity around it because it was the only thing that took the pain away and now i dont know who i am without it #im having a fucking mental breakdown hourly bc im clean and it allows me to think too much #i want it to go away i want everything to go away and i just wanna be loved i have so much love to give #but i just cant seem to find people who wanna reciprocate it even the tiniest bit and just treat me like shit #like id take back my abusive piece of shit ex if it meant i wasnt alone and i was getting attention even though its negative #like thats how fucked i am right now #im so dumb and i just feel like giving up boo fucking hoo i know ok.....#i just want to be. and it feels like its over for me. sorry for being such a mopey fucking prick but i just wanna die. it hurts a lot.#vent //#drugs //#i just wanna matter for 5 god damn seconds........#god i hate being such a burden on everyone i know like its so fucking dumb

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scarlettriot · 3 years

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Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

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gravegroves · 3 years

Text

It's not that Billy isn't grateful that the bastard sprung him out of the secret government lab he'd woken up in and subsequently spent weeks or maybe months being poked and prodded.

But out of all the closeted queers in Indiana that could have taken Billy under their wing, Murray goddamn Bauman is probably the last one that should legally be allowed to care for another human being. On the flip side, he may have single-handedly convinced Billy that heaven must be real, if only because Murray has most certainly dragged Billy to some version of hell. A better hell than he'd come from, but hell all the same.

Billy's starting to really hate classical music.

The fact that he's still bedbound doesn't help the situation any. If he could walk he'd smash that damn sound system with his bare hands or just fucking leave. But walking isn't an option while his body tries to heal, so if Murray doesn't soon turn off the 9th repeat of that Bach-Rachmaninov-Mozart bullshit he's blasting throughout the bunker-like structure Billy has been forced to call home for the past two weeks, he's going to strangle himself to death with the IV tube still lodged in his arm. Hopefully he'll shit himself after the fact and Murray will be forced to clean that up too.

"Turn that crap off or take me back to Hawkins you balding piece of shit! At least my dad only beat me!" Billy roars at the water stained concrete ceiling and grits his teeth against the pain when the move pulls on what feels like all the stitches in his body.

Murray glides into his field of vision like an unwashed spectre and throws himself onto the couch opposite the one Billy's lying on, still dressed in that same ratty bathrobe that probably hasn't been on the laundry pile in years, smiling that maniacal smile that Billy is less and less convinced is put-on by the day.

"Self degrading humor to mask the pain. You'll fit in here just fine." Murray sing-songs before getting back up and scuttling his way out of the room like the cockroach he is and into what Billy thinks might be the kitchen. Doesn't exactly know the layout of the hovel they're in, being bed-bound and all that.

The music cuts out and all the muscles in Billy's body slowly unwind as he breathes a sigh of relief.

Murray comes back with a flask of something foreign and pours a generous glass before handing it off to him, either unaware that Billy probably shouldn't be mixing alcohol with the cocktail of drugs he's still on or, more likely, doesn't give a shit. Billy downs it before the man can even open his mouth, too quick to really appreciate how it goes down smoother than water.

"You fucking philistine. That's good Stolichnaya." Murray grins before downing his own helping straight from the bottle.

"You a commie?" Billy asks, such a carbon copy of Neil he can almost feel the man's hand up his ass directing his words like a fucking puppet and he bites his tongue hard enough to hurt. Not that Billy's a big fan of the commies or the government or Neil or anyone really, but he's fairly sure they're the worse guys if this whole situation were a contest.

"Nice ideology, poor execution. No, but I'm gonna teach you how to speak like one Billy-boy!" Murray says, snatching away Billy's empty glass and filling it for him once again. "No one learns Russian well when they're sober though, so drink your heart out. It's gonna be a long year."

Billy stares.

"The fuck am I learning Russian for?"

Murray grins.

"Gotta go save a bigger Bastard than you or I."

"And why the fuck would I do that?"

Murray throws his hands out wide, "For the greater good, Billy. And maybe Steve Harrington will touch your dick about it, who knows."

Drugs really have a way of loosening Billy's tongue as it turns out, and it had taken a good day and a half for the worst of the effects to wear off after Murray had gotten him out. The Bastard hadn't let the opportunity to pry slip by him though, that's for fucking sure.

Billy scowls.

Besides, Steve Harrington doesn't even know that Billy's still alive. No one does. And even if he did… well.

The greater good will have to be enough, he supposes.

#a weird little thing i've had lying around #we put down my cat that other day and i'm sad as fuck #billy hargrove #murray bauman #steve harrington #pre-harringrove #harringrove #gravegroves writes

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

harry adores yn with his entire being and i can tell that she loves him just as much but the poor thing is just so scared, and by what you have showed us she has a fair reason to have struggles

Through Hell and Back

warnings: cheating, mentions of domestic violence, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

this is a very important blurb to understand dynamic and history of the characters.

PLEASE let me know your thoughts.

—

Harry’s out at a bachelor party for his friend, Jack, at a noisy bar downtown where there is a mechanical bull and half-naked waitresses.

His phone rings at two-thirty in the morning, he already knows who it is and why she’s calling him so late.

He steps outside the noisy bar, “Hi puppy, y’alright?”

Harry already knew she wasn’t.

Her voice is shaky, “Er, are you still out at the bachelor party?”

If he says yes, she’ll just try to say have fun and was just calling to check in - a lie because she felt like such an inconvenience at all times.

“No, just got home,” He lied smoothly, he could hear her trying to hide a sniffle - she must have had a bad dream.

Every since she started trauma therapy, they’d been getting worse, as she worked through her struggles with a therapist.

—

“I-I don’t want to g-go in,” YN whimpers as she sits in Harry’s passenger side outside the clinic, “I can’t talk about it.”

“Baby, you need to do this. You need to talk to someone who’s trained to help you, okay? You promised you’d try it f’me,” He hums, rubbing a thumb over her wet cheekbone.

She shakes her head stubbornly, “It’s all going to come back.”

“Yes, it will. Because you didn’t work through it, you repressed it. There is a difference, okay?” Harry’s heart feels like it’s being ripped in two as YN looks like a caged animal.

YN squeezes Harry’s hand so hard it hurts but he doesn’t mind, he can feel her fear being shared through the rough touch.

She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, “Please, H. I don’t want to remember.”

He sighs softly, “I would never force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you really want to leave, we can.”

YN searches his eyes, sees his sadness and she knows she has to push through because she loves him so much, “Will you walk me in?”

“Of course, s’fucking proud of you. My strong girl,” Harry praises, kissing the top of her head, and shutting off the car.

He walks her in, watches her as she hesitantly goes back in with her new therapist, and sits in the waiting room for the hour and a half until she comes out.

He does that every week without miss.

Drives her, walks her in, sits in the waiting room, and then drives her home.

She doesn’t usually talk much after the sessions, her eyes swollen and puffy which is a telltale sign she cried during the appointment.

Harry holds her hand on the ride home, sometimes draws her a bath or tucks her in for a nap under his covers.

One day, after therapy, they crawled into his bed together. She hadn’t said one word since she walked out of the office but she looks tiredly at Harry.

“Why?”

Harry frowns, “Why what?”

She hides her face into the fluffy pillow, words mumbled, “Why do you want me? I’m so broken.”

“Hey,” Harry responds loudly, pulling her up and giving her a serious look, “You are not broken. Even if you were, I’d love every broken piece, okay? I want you because I’m so in love with you it doesn’t make sense.”

YN shakes her head, “I don’t deserve you. You-you have to drive me to therapy every week, leave work early, have to make it up the next day.”

And well, his heart breaks a little because she truly believes that.

Harry grips her jaw, gently, “If you need to go to therapy for the rest of your life, I’ll drive you until I’m ninety. I’ll drive you five days a week if you need it.”

He continues,“I don’t deserve you, sweet girl. Strongest, bravest, most resilient person I’ve ever met. You are my soulmate and I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“I want to nap now,” She whispers, crawling back into her shell where she’s safe from the world, from facing her fears.

Harry just stares at her, the girl he’s had a crush on since fourth grade, the girl he’d been in love with since ninth.

When she felt broken, well so did he.

—

“Mum, I want to do more for her,” Harry cries to his mother one night at dinner after school.

“I know you do, Harry. There is only so much you can do. She has parents tha-“

“Those aren’t parents, mum! You know that!” He shouts angrily, “I need to do more for her. Help her!”

Anne looks at him with a soft, understanding expression, “You’re doing all you can, Harry.”

—

He was still doing all he can.

“I wa-was wondering if you wanted to come over and watch a movie?” YN acts casual despite the tremor but he won’t call her on it - on the phone at least.

“I’d love to pup, I’ll be over on a tick,” already walking away from the busy bar.

Harry can hear the relief in her voice when she says, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”

When he uses his key to open the door, she sat on her couch with all the lights in the house on, not one off.

“Oh, pet,” Harry murmurs, all the blinds were drawn shut and he knew she’d already triple checked that the windows were locked - despite the state of the art security system he had installed for her.

“Um, so are we feeling a scary movie or romcom?” She ignores his words, picking up the remote, and pulling up Netflix.

He flicks a couple of the bright lights off until it’s normal dim and he sits next to her on the couch, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“Talk t’me,” Harry coaxes, unraveling her from the heavy weighted blanket, and tugging her into his chest.

“M’fine,” YN lies on a choked whimper.

“Y’safe, you know I’d never let anythin’ happen to you . Please puppy, tell me,” He’s not to manly to beg for her to open up.

He allows her to nuzzle her face into his neck, “He cam-came back an-and he -,” her voice drops, “broke in here and I wo-woke up as he was opening my door.”

Harry holds her for a very long time that night.

With Harry and her therapist’s constant encouragement she’d been able to be more open and up front with Harry - which made him feel unexaplainably proud of her.

Anna almost fucked everything up, all the hard work without even realizing it.

It was nearly three in the morning this time.

Harry was stuck at Anna’s house with her and her friends for a movie night.

He’d gotten up to go to the bathroom when his phone rings.

Anna sees who it is and picks it up, “What do you want? Harry’s busy and doesn’t have time for you right now. You know it’s not all about you, right?”

Then she hangs up, all of her and her friends giggling at how she just treated YN.

Harry is unaware of the call for a few minutes when he gets back until he gets a text from YN.

I’m sorry I bothered you. I am okay. Have fun tonight x

He scrolls through his phone in confusion until he sees the call, he glares over at Anna, “Did you answer my phone?”

She has a cocky look on her face, “Yeah, I told YN that the world doesn’t revolve around her and to leave us alone.”

All the friends are giggling - but that comes to an abrupt halt when Harry stands up, knocking over the little table of drinks with his anger, “Where the fuck did you get the idea that you could touch my phone, let alone answer it?”

All of them are quiet.

He scoffs, “Now all you annoying prats are going shut up? Get the fuck out of my way,” he orders to Anna who’s pouting.

“C’mon, it was a joke. Don’t leave,” She whines, grabbing at Harry’s arm which he instantly rips out of her grip.

“Don’t touch me. I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” He tells her honestly before storming out of her house without a look back at her teary face.

When he arrives at YN’s house, a book is automatically been hurled at the front door when he opens it, then another.

“Hey, puppy, stop tha’. S’just me, you’re okay. S’just me,” He coos, rearming the security system to make her feel better.

She is only in one of his shirts with the company logo on it and soft cotton boy shorts, hair frizzy atop her head.

“Y’have another nightmare?” Harry asks softly, all the lights were on again, every single one.

YN clenches her jaw, “No.”

He hardens his expression too, “I was in the bathroom when she answered that call. As soon as I found out, I came over here. Don’t be sour with me.”

“I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“I know y’bloody lying because your legs are still tremblin’. Now cut the bullshit and talk t’me, we’re not going backwards,” Harry tells her seriously, with all firmness he can muster.

“I love you.”

It takes him aback. YN told him how much she adored him but it was something that didn’t come easy for her.

To hear it flat out, well….he nearly almost melted on the floor into a pile of goop.

“I love you too, puppy.”

She takes a deep breathe, “It’s been that same nightmare, but it’s not really a nightmare? It’s a flashback to…”

YN swallows before she continues, “Remember when….when I ran from my parent’s house to yours and my dad came and found me…”

Harry doesn’t want to remember but he does.

—-

“Harry, he-he just pulled up,” YN cries, peeking out his window, “I don’t want to go home.”

“Harry, he’s screaming at your mum. I have to go.”

“Harry, I have to go before he does something stupid. I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Harry, don’t cry. I’ll be fine, he’s just really upset. I’ll just deal with it and it will be over before we know it, okay?”

——

“I remember,” He wavers like he normally doesn’t, feeling like a helpless sixteen year old again.

It was moments like this were no matter how hard he wanted to be angry or scream at her for making their relationship so difficult, that he couldn’t be.

How could he blame her for her commitment issues?

Why she struggles to trust?

Why she never feels good enough?

“I’m sorry to bring that up-“

“Do not apologize,” Harry interrupts, “I want to know everything you experience or feel no matter how traumatic or upsetting.”

YN despite her own struggles, when she heard Harry say things like that…well she knew full heartedly that he loves her with no conditions.

She knew this was so hard on him, “I am so in love with you, H.”

His eyes automatically soften and he reacts like he’s being praised. His face lights up without him even knowing it does.

“I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen, thank you for being my person. I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was something she had been also working on in therapy, expressing gratitude- specifically to Harry.

And it works because Harry actually starts tearing up, eyes watering with emotion, “I love you. I’d walk through hell and back for you.”

He would and he has.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #update #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles angst #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry #cheating!harry masterlist

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marlena-immortale · 3 years

Text

New Experiences: Part 1

Summary: Damiano wants to explore a new kink and is nervous to bring it up with you, but you ease his nerves.

CW: SMUT, masturbation, anal play, choking, d/s dynamic (dom reader), dirty talk, discussion of pegging

Word Count: 2.3k

Damiano David is a confident man. Anyone that’s met him can see it. He knows he’s hot and he doesn’t care what other people think of him, except for you. He holds your opinion very highly and definitely cares what you think about him. So when he discovers something new about himself that he wants to try out, he is very hesitant to bring it up to you. He knows that you’d never judge him and you’d probably even be into it, but his nervousness seems to still be weighing on him.

A few weeks ago, Damiano was scrolling through Instagram when he found a post of a man dressed in panties, arching his back and bent over, with a woman’s hand on his back pushing him down. He could feel his cheeks heat up and couldn’t help but screenshot the picture (for research purposes only of course). He didn’t know why it had such an effect on him but he decided to file that away to deal with at another time.

-------

Days later, you were out with your friends and Damiano had the whole house to himself. He lays down on your shared bed, cuddled up in the freshly-washed sheets. He opens his phone and finds the picture his mind just won’t let go of. Without realizing it, his other hand drifts down his own body, pretending it’s the girl’s in the picture, or better yet, your hand. He imagines your breath in his ear as you push him down into the mattress. His hand tucks inside his underwear and starts playing with his half-hard dick.

He lets out a frustrated moan as he imagines your hips pressing into his ass. He puts his phone down, his imagination more than enough now, and brings his other hand down the back of his underwear, reaching in as he shifts to lean more on his side. His finger makes its way down further and he presses it lightly to his hole. He gasps at the new sensation but it turns into a moan once he decides that he really likes the feeling. He lets himself experiment a bit and starts rubbing little circles against his rim. His mind clouds with thoughts of you telling him what a good boy he’s being, moaning so loud and making such pretty noises while he explores himself. He can feel this new sensation all over his body and instantly knows that this will be a staple in his self-pleasure routine from now on.

His other hand quickens its pace on his cock as he reaches his climax much quicker than expected. He can feel his hole contract on the very tip of his finger as he cums all over himself, his body shaking with pleasure. He sits there for a moment, processing what he just did and how good it felt, realizing that he definitely has to work up the courage to bring it up with you now.

-------

The next day, he wakes up to an empty bed and the smell of coffee and carries himself to the kitchen to find you making espresso. You turn around to see your lovely boyfriend clad only in his snug underwear and open oversized flannel falling off his toned shoulders. A smile spreads across your face at the sight, pouring two cups of coffee. You can tell that he seems a little nervous for some reason by his hesitancy to walk closer to you like he normally would. He stays rooted by the doorway, shifting his weight from one foot, to the other, to the doorframe, and back.

“Everything ok baby?” you ask while setting cups down on the table in front of him and pulling out the two chairs and sitting down. Damiano follows your lead and sits across from you, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Yeah, everything’s fine…. I just have something I wanna talk to you about,” he confesses, his eyes casting down at his cup held tightly in his hands.

You try not to get nervous yourself at his hesitancy to tell you. “Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything,” you respond, reaching to take one of his hands in your own, stroking his thumb. The gesture calms him down a bit and he takes a deep breath before replying.

“There’s something new I want to try…. like, in the bedroom,” he says, attempting to maintain eye contact the whole time. You instantly relax, a small smile now on your face, knowing it’s not anything serious and that you’d be happy to try anything he’s interested in.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe we could try…. pegging?” he says, surprised at his own hesitancy to admit his secret to you. You’re not sure why he was so nervous, it’s not like you haven’t casually brought it up before or joked around about it. In fact, you’re more than willing to try it out with him and already have some fun ideas swirling around in your head about how this could go.

“Is that all? I’d love to fuck you darling,” you offer with a smile, threading your fingers through his own now sweaty ones. His face fills with relief and he lets go of some of the tension in his shoulders. “How about we go to my favorite sex shop and pick something out together?” you offer.

“That sounds good. You’re really into this right? You’re not just doing this for me?”

“Oh trust me, I am most definitely into this,” you say as you stand up and stalk over to his side of the table, climbing onto his lap, running your hands over his chest. “I can’t wait to have you trembling beneath me, my cock deep inside of you,” you whisper into his ear. You hear a soft whimper come from his mouth.

Your words ease his worries, and also makes his heart beat a little faster and breath get a little heavier. You take his jaw into your hand and guide him to look up at you as you continue, “I’ll take it slow though baby, don’t worry. I’ll have you all stretched out and ready for me. You’ll be making such pretty noises for me, I promise it’ll feel so good”. You can see his eyes dilate and feel him getting a little excited when you shift your hips in his lap. Your hand travels lower to wrap lightly around his neck and his head tilts up, allowing you more access to feel his blood pumping under his skin. “How’s that sound baby boy? Do you like the sound of that?”

He nods dumbly and you let him try again. “Words sweetheart,” you urge.

“Yes, yes that sounds… really nice”.

“Yeah? Good. Why don’t you use that pretty voice to tell me exactly what you want” you whisper. It’s so easy for you to have him blushing and whimpering like putty in your hands. You just barely tighten your fingers around his throat and listen to his breath hitch and a pathetic noise leave his mouth, surprising even him.

“I want you…” he trails off.

“Aww, did my baby get all shy?” you coo at him.

“I um, I want you to… I want you to shove your fingers inside me and thrust so deep I can feel you everywhere. I bet you’d just love to see me all helpless and fucked out,” he says, his bratty energy coming out in full force. His eyes are dark and lidded as he looks at you with a smirk. You raise an eyebrow, a smirk appears on your own face, seeing how he wants to play this game now.

“You’re right baby, I would love that, to have you writhing and desperate, grinding your hips down onto me,” you say with a tight grip on his throat and the other hand slipping down to his inner thigh for emphasis. A broken whine escapes his pretty lips and you feel his erection growing against your ass.

“But I guess you’ll just have to wait for now,” you say with a cocky smile, and swiftly lift yourself off of him with a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving him turned on and missing the feeling of you on his lap.

-------

The next day, you’re on your way to the sex shop, Damiano practically hanging off of you as you walk to the entrance, a lazy smile plastered across both of your faces. When you get to the shop, you immediately guide him to the section in the front where you know the strap-on harnesses are. His cheeks heat up, imagining you wearing it, and his head instantly goes to burrow into the space between your neck and shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, stroking his scalp soothingly and when you see that it’s just an embarrassed smile on his face and not anything bad, you pick out a nice leather harness and lead him to the dildo section.

You can tell that he’s getting all shy and a little subby so you decide to play with him a bit. “Why don’t you pick out one you like, sweetheart?” you ask him, your fingers tilting his chin up and to the wall of dildos in front of you. He looks around, flustered and slightly overwhelmed by all the decisions. He’s still attached to your side, acting less bratty than usual, being too out of his element to attempt to annoy you. This sweeter side of him is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and you plan to see just how sweet you can make him.

“I want you to pick it out for me,” he whispers, still a little ashamed even though there’s no one nearby.

“Are you sure baby?” you ask, honored that he trusts you to make the best decision for him.

“Yes,” he says, nodding while pawing at your waist like a little puppy wanting all of your attention. You melt seeing him be so cute and submissive for you.

You look to the wall of dildos and find the perfect one; a pretty pastel pink one that’s as close as you can find to Damiano’s actual size, “so you can get a taste of your own medicine,” you say with a wink, placing it in your basket.

His blush deepens pinker than the dildo realizing that he’s intimidated by his own length. You guide him further into the store, the both of you still with stupid smiles across your face, so enamored and in love with each other. You find the lingerie section and pick out a pretty white lacy set for him, knowing he loves the feeling of lace against his skin and knowing just how sexy he’ll look in it.

You pick up a few more supplies you’ll need for the big night and check out at the counter before walking back to the car. As soon as you put the bag in the backseat and get situated in your seat, you look over at your beautiful boyfriend and sub to find him looking more embarrassed than he has been all day which was strange considering you’re alone now and not staring at a wall of dildos.

You look down to see the cause of Damiano’s embarrassment; the growing bulge in his pants. You smile, knowing how shy he gets about getting hard so easily.

“Aw, my poor sensitive puppy, always so easily turned on,” you say, leaning in close, your breath on his neck and your fingers brushing gently across his clothed erection, teasing him. As soon as he whimpers and starts to buck up into your hand, you sit back up and start the car.

“Nooo, please touch me,” he whines when you start pulling out of the parking lot.

You laugh and respond, “Well if you behave like a good boy, I’ll give you a nice reward when we get home”. He pouts but doesn’t say anything else. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“Yes, I promise,” Damiano desperately responds, needing some sort of release.

“Okay then, I want you to unzip your pants, pull your cock out, and make yourself cum,” you instruct him, keeping your eyes on the road ahead of you. His hands immediately fumble at his zipper, trying to get it down as quickly as possible. He pulls his pants and underwear down just far enough to pull himself out of them and immediately begins softly stroking. You can feel yourself getting turned on hearing his noises beside you as you navigate your car along the highway. He gasps as his thumb rubs across his tip, his head thrown back and hips moving of their own accord.

“C’mon baby, I know you can do better than that,” you encourage him condescendingly.

“Please, I need your hand,” Damiano begs you as he desperately strokes himself, staring at your hands clutching the steering wheel.

“Aw honey, I know you can do it yourself. You’re being such a good boy for me,” you say. Your words bring him closer to his climax as his hand speeds up on his cock. The car fills with the beautiful sounds of Damiano’s moans and gasps and quiet whimpers of your name that barely are able to make it past his lips. He only needs a few more strokes until he’s loudly moaning and spilling all over his own hand and shirt.

“This is gonna be fun,” you say, a big smile on your face as Damiano catches his breath, recovering from his orgasm.

#damiano david #damiano david smut #damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david imagine #maneskin #maneskin x reader #maneskin smut #maneskin fanfic #maneskin imagine #måneskin #måneskin smut #måneskin fanfic #måneskin x reader

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prettyboykatsuki · 3 years

Text

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comforting sleep deprived s/o | bnha

➳ incld ;; bakugo and kirishima

➳ warnings ;; none, just fluff, pro-hero!au

➳ wc ;; 1.8k overall.

➳ a/n ;; i haven’t slept properly in days. running on empty so this is how im coping. i love them.

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i. bakugo katsuki

- doesn’t like napping cause he insists on keeping his sleep schedule tight. not that you can really get mad at him over that - hero work is busy and he doesn’t like being tired cause it makes him more aggravated than usual.

- so he avoids naps almost at all costs and rarely gets tired. his sleep schedule is really, really good.

- not so much the same for you though.

- bakugo accepted pretty early on that you were something of a night-owl. bad sleep anxiety and just generally having too much energy at night made it so that he rarely ever saw you go to bed. you were at least lagging a few hours behind him like. at all times.

- he didn’t really mind at first, but at some point he realized just how little sleep you actually got. one time he woke up at 7am, surprised to see you also awake - only to find out you hadn’t slept the entire night.

- he was pissed. after almost blowing up your kitchen, he sighed and basically told you that if you need helping sleeping to just “fucking ask him” or else.

- needless to say, it didn’t get that much better. you two compromised by setting a time that you had to be in bed by, even if you weren’t asleep. whenever bakugo has time, he’s always trying to get you to rest but sometimes his schedule doesn’t really allow him to check up on you how he likes.

- he’s coming home from a long mission. not super tired but just tedious work. he just wanted to relax. it was late, 3:37am on the clock when he finally walks in.

- to his surprise - there’s a light on in the kitchen. when he walks in, very confused, he sees you sliding cookies off of a sheetpan into a little plastic tupperware. he stops. he stares.

- why the hell were you baking at three in the fucking morning

- “what the fuck are you doing awake?”

- you jump back with a hand over your chest, barely catching your breath. you blink a few times before sighing.

- “baking. i didn’t think you’d be home so soon”

- he hears it before he sees it. your voice is absolutely tattered - he can literally hear how exhausted you are. he pumps the breaks, walking towards you swiftly before staring down at you hard.

- “when was the last time you slept,”

- you press your lips into a tight smile, and he sees the dark purple under your eyes. he feel his heart hurt a little. his hands come up to your face as he brushes his thumb every so slightly against your lashes.

- “it’s uh.. hard to sleep without you. more than usual, you know”

- “Y/N”

- “i don’t know. maybe two or three days ago properly? i mean i got some sleep in between but -,”

- he stops you before you can start. he shuts the cookie container and leaves the tray in the sink before grabbing your hand a little forcefully and tugs you to the bathroom - lifting you up onto the counter. you know to stay put.

- when he comes back it’s with a fresh change of clothes for the both of you. you blink at him owlishly as he strips himself off of his clothes - grateful he took time to shower at the agency.

- he takes his shirt off and then takes yours off too, before pulling you right towards him. your arms instantly are around his neck, the warmth of his body pressed against your figure with his chin tucked over your shoulder.

- and god - he’s so comforting you kind of want to cry. he smells like clean soap and deodorant and a little like smoke. feeling his skin against yours makes you feel instant relief. just hugging in the bathroom has you falling half asleep. you were just so tired.

- when he pulls back, his whole face looks so damn worried it makes you want to cry. you put your own hands on his face and cheek, brushing your thumb on his cheek bone as he rests his forehead on yours.

- “dumbasss. i can leave something with you if it’s that bad - fuck, you could’ve called me, you know?”

- and you sigh and smile and kiss him a bit before pulling away again. man, you’re tired. you’re so, so tired.

- “yeah.. i know,”

- he helps you get undressed and freshened up, even rubs your facewash into your skin and rubs all your skincare in before hauling you off the bed. he turns the lights dim and just holds you, rubbing circles into your back as he holds you right to his chest.

- “go to fucking sleep,” “love you katsuki” “..love you too”

- he doesn’t sleep until you do, and wakes up the next morning to call in sick for you while you sleep against his chest. he should probably wake up but.. sleeping a bit longer won’t kill him.

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ii. kirishima eijirou

- kirishima likes to wake up pretty early so he can workout and do his cardio at the start of his day and his weightlifting later on. sleeping well is important to him cause his workout routine is super unforgiving if he’s not resting properly on rest days and the like. building muscles absolutely requires sleep!

- that being said - he doesn’t mind not sleeping early if he has something to do. drinking especially normally keeps him up on weekends. overall, it was good but he doesn’t limit himself.

- overall, it’s not something he paid a ton of attention too. life is all about balance so kiri goes with the flow. his rule of thumb is trying to get at least 8 hours a night tho.

- but because kirishima is so go with the flow - it took him a long time to figure out that you were a night owl and something of an insomniac. he assumed that when he wished you goodnight everday, you fell asleep around the same time as him.

- but one drunken even, he finds himself stumbling to your apartment. knocking on your and barely standing upright - he immediately is planning on apologizing for disturbing your sleep.

- but then you.. open the door and you’re literally wide awake. you look tired but you’re clearly not sleepy. kirishima, once gain, blasted - pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind and grins toothily. he’s just excited to see you at that point and forgets about the whole ordeal until a few weeks later.

- he ends up texting you about it a couple weeks later, assuming it’d be a once off thing that you’d explain to him.

- ... is upset and shocked to learn that you rarely, if ever fall asleep before two am like on a good day. poor man is in shock for the rest of the day and proceeds to ask you about why you have a hard time to sleeping to try and see what he can do.

- he wants to help but you just keep brushing it off and it honestly made him so upset he didn’t know what to do with himself. he couldn’t sleep a wink that night because the whole thing is bothering him so damn much.

- what really sets him off is when he finally has a chance to see you after a few weeks. you were busy with uni and didn’t really have a ton of time to see him so the two of you couldn’t see each other properly for a few weeks.

- he’s elated to see you. he’s missed his baby so much and he’s pulling all the stops out when he’s getting dressed. jeans cuffed, his best cologne, fresh shaved, brand new sneakers. he really wants to impress.

- he’s wrapping you up into the tightest hug when he see’s you. your dressed comfortably but he still thinks you look so beautiful and he’s complimenting you, giving you kisses and overall just doting on you. he wraps your hand in his yours and just talks.

- in fact, he’s so excited to see you, he doesn’t notice how..deflated you are. not at first anyways.

- but as the date goes on, it becomes more and more obvious you don’t share his enthusiasm in the same way.

- sure, he’s talkative but you haven’t said a word about how your week has been. all of his jokes have been met with mere huffs and forced chuckles and your eyes seem really distant.

- it hits him all at once at the end of your date when you just seem so... out of it. he’s about to take you somewhere else but you stopped listening a while ago. kirishima stops dead in his tracks and holds your hand nervously, calling you a few times to get your attention.

- “Y/N.. are you mad at me? is something wrong?”

- your eyes go wide, flailing your hands to reassure him. you knew you were acting strange but to see kirishima this upset makes you feel awful.

- “oh kiri - god no, it’s not you. sorry for being so.. distant - it’s not you,”

- “well then.. what’s wrong?”

- kirishima feels his heart get pierced when he sees you laugh. you look... so exhausted. your eyes are so heavy and the makeup on your skin is only barely concealing your dark circles. why did it take him so long to notice?

- before he can even reply, he remembers that little tidbit about your sleep schedule. his heart so genuinely aches.

- “Y/N.. when was the last time you got any proper sleep?”

- you flinch, visibly at the question. with an awkward laugh you inform him that it had been at least a week since you’ve had the time to actually sleep.

- “why didn’t you sleep today? on your day off?”

- “i uhm.. wanted to see you. i know you had a date planned and i was excited to see you. sorry for.. ruining your plans”

- he’s devastated by how cute you are. hugs you so damn tight.

- “baby, you can see me whenever. im happy being with you even if all we’re doing is napping together”

- when you mumble a soft “oh” in his chest, he can’t help but melt into a sigh. before you can protest, he’s dragging you back to his car and driving you home ignores your protests and buckles you, covering you with his jacket before kissing the crown of your head and telling you to sleep on the way back to his place.

- he watches you like a hawk the whole time until he arrives at his place. he wakes you up and carries you on his back until he gets inside. all he does is kick his shoes off before pulling the full weight of you down on his body, kissing your whole face.

- “sleep well baby. ill wake you up in a few”

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#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou imagines #kirishima imagines #bnha imagines #writing tag #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #this is SO self indulgent im embarassed #bye i rlly wrote this in an hour

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