#i had stocked up on them for reasons. still have a handful waiting for the upcoming fridays | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tasteracha · 5 months

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take care of me.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: afab!reader, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, teasing, edging, hyunjin x reader x minho - smut, MINORS DNI

synopsis: hyunho knows how to take perfect care of you. thank you my angel @astraystayyh for giving me this idea i love you endlessly <3

you had an itemized list of reasons why having two loving partners was the best thing you possessed. the never-ending attention, always having a moderator in arguments, twice as much love than you ever thought you deserved.

it comes in the form of little notes taped to your lunch bag telling you to have a great day, gorgeous ;), in hands brushed across your back as they pass you in the hallway, in your favorite snacks always being stocked no matter how busy they are.

it comes in the form of you collapsing into hyunjin’s lap after an unbearably long day, your muscles melting into his body as you press your nose into the space between his neck and his shoulder, the scent of his cologne making your eyelashes flutter.

“one of those days?” he murmurs, tracing his nails lightly against your back in a way that makes your toes curl in pleasure.

“take care of me,” you stamp into his skin with your lips, a sigh taking over your body before you add on a please to the end of your poorly concealed demand.

“take care of you like this?” he moves his hand to run through your hair, nails scratching lightly at your scalp. you melt further into him, your body shivering with his movements.

“no,” you almost whine, wriggling your hips with the last of the energy you had left. he knows exactly what you want, he just loves teasing you, and craves the desperate little noises that he can pull from you like this.

“oh, like this then?” you can hear the smirk in his voice as both of his hands cup your ass, pulling you into him. you can feel his cock twitching in interest under your hips, and you nod fervently, thankful that he relented so easily. “alright darling, go to the bedroom and take your clothes off, i’ll be right there.”

you move with an urgency you didn’t think you had the energy for, stripping and leaving a trail of clothes in your path until you’re flopping down onto the bed. you can hear the shower running from the bathroom as you wait, and you let yourself feel a pang of longing for minho before you shake it away. it wasn’t unusual for two of you to be intimate without the other - the three of you were busy, and any room for jealousy and envy was discarded long ago in favor of respect and trust.

at any rate, you’re sure he’ll join you as soon as he is done, even if he complains about having to shower again later.

hyunjin enters the room in a flurry, dumping a selection of snacks and a water bottle on the bedside table for later. he climbs onto the bed and leans over you, dropping his head down to kiss you. you kiss him back, but when he runs his hands down your chest to cup your breasts you lose focus of it. he takes control, dipping his tongue into your mouth and nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and you’re already feeling foggy and light-headed.

his hands roam further down, teasing at your stomach and tracing circles against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. you’re helpless under him, little sounds flooding into his mouth from your throat from his touch. he dips his fingers into your folds just as minho enters the room, a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin still damp from his shower. hyunjin releases your mouth and a wet smack echoes through the room, so lewd that it makes you flush.

“how is it that i just got here and you’re the only one who’s still wearing clothes,” he says, quirking an eyebrow up when hyunjin shoots him a lazy smile. he moves his hands back to your thighs and you whine, letting your legs fall apart in invitation. your gaze flickers back and forth between hyunjin and minho, a pout on your face as you silently plead one of them to touch you.

“awh, she’s so cute,” minho says, reaching his hand towards your chin.

“if you pet me like one of your cats,” you hiss at him, the fog clearing a bit. “i’m leaving this room-”

“must not be doing your job well enough if she’s still talking like this,” minho cuts you off sharply, looking pointedly at hyunjin who was still running his hands along your thighs absentmindedly.

“well, i was waiting for your help,” hyunjin rolls his eyes at minho. “i know you hate it when i eat dessert without you.”

the way they were talking about you, like you weren’t a living, breathing person in the room with them, sent heat sparking along your cheeks and ears. it was embarrassing, it was humiliating, it was turning you on. the fog comes back with a vengeance, clearing your vision of anything except for the two of them.

minho takes his invitation for what it is, and hyunjin moves seamlessly to the side as minho takes his spot in front of you. hyunjin curls his hand under your thigh and moves it aside aside, leaving your legs spread and your pussy spread out for them.

“look at you, all wet for us,” minho taunts, a sharp glint in his voice that betrays his emotions. “you’re only like this for us, right? no one else.”

the gentle possessiveness sends a lick of fire through your body. he knew you would never stray from them, would never even consider looking at anyone else when you had the most perfect men in your possession already, but he never got tired of being reminded of that.

“min,” you whine, embarrassed as he stares openly at your pussy, laid bare for him to feast on by hyunjin’s hands holding your legs open. you try and close your thighs together but his grip is too strong.

“shh,” he moves in close, his lips a fraction of an inch from your folds. “let me have this.”

the first touch of his lips to your clit makes you jerk, and he pulls back with a wicked grin.

“stay still, baby,” his voice is dripping with condescension even as his lips are glistening with your slick. “don’t make me work for my meal.”

he dips back in, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, and it takes every ounce of control that you have left to stop from grinding against his face. he eats you out expertly, forgoing the teasing you knew he loved and if you had any mental capabilities right now you’d be grateful. instead, all you can focus on is the rapid heat building in your core that’s threatening to explode.

wet, slick noises echo across your moans as he eats you out, spurred on by hyunjin narrating to him how good he is making you feel. you tangle your hands in his hair when you feel yourself getting close, holding him against you as your hips jerk in little motions, and he lets you use him. you come on his tongue, your walls clenching and absorbing any sounds of appreciation that he makes.

after a few moments he lets out a little hiss, and you release your white-knuckled grip on his hair with an apology waiting on your lips. he stops you before you can say anything, taking your hand in his and pressing kisses to your fingertips in reassurance.

your orgasm leaves you lax and dazed, and you watch with heavy-lidded eyes as they switch positions again. hyunjin kneels over you, his clothes finally discarded and his cock hard and leaking as he looks at you. minho sits on the bed by your head, and he runs a hand through your sweaty hair.

he’s hard too and you raise a hand towards his cock, wanting to feel the weight of it in your hand, but he stops you.

“we’re taking care of you, not the other way around,” he soothes, his words a sharp contrast to the condescending words he had thrown at you earlier. “i am thoroughly enjoying this, don’t worry.”

he tilts your head towards him to kiss the confused look off of your face just as hyunjin fucks two of his fingers into you, stretching them out. the aftershocks of your orgasm hadn’t left you yet and you can feel your walls protesting him.

“look at you, clenching around my fingers,” he says, amazement in his voice even though neither you nor minho were capable of answering him. “god, you’re so perfect, your pussy was made just for us to ruin.”

you didn’t have the words to tell him that you couldn’t stop your walls from closing down even if you wanted to; the onslaught of sensations left you incapable of controlling your own body, and it felt so good. you could taste yourself on minho’s tongue, could feel each knuckle of hyunjin’s fingers inside of you, and it was overwhelming in a dizzyingly euphoric way.

he loses his patience with his fingers quickly, stumbling in his rush to climb over you. his hair is falling over your face, shrouding you in his shadow and all you can feel is him as he runs his cock through your folds. your eyelids flutter as he presses the head of his cock into you, your mouth going slack against minho’s as you let out a sound you would surely be embarrassed about later.

minho, sending your inability to kiss him back, trails his kisses down your jaw to the side of your neck, right over your racing pulse. hyunjin bottoms out just as minho sucks, and you’re left shaking.

“relax, darling,” hyunjin pets your thighs, “i can’t move if you’re this tight around me.”

“sorry,” you gasp, the word punched out of you from minho’s teeth grazing at your skin.

“don’t apologize,” hyunjin shifts his hips back and you feel a gush of wetness leave you, helping the slide of his cock inside you. “i want to make you feel good. do you feel good?”

“yes!” you cry out when he rams back into you, immediately setting a mind-numbing pace. minutes, hours, days pass as he fucks you, filling you up perfectly in accompaniment with minho whispering into your skin about how you’re such a good girl and only for us, right?

you feel another orgasm approaching too quickly, and you try and clamp your legs to keep it away; it was too much, every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire and if you came you might actually explode in pleasure.

“baby, it’s okay,” hyunjin coos at you, draping himself across your body and tracing along your sweaty hairline with his fingertips. “you’re doing so well. you can give us one more right? just come one more time.”

“ngh,” is all that leaves your mouth when you try and answer, the dual sensation of hyunjin’s cock fucking into you and minho’s lips still sucking at your neck enough to stop any words from forming in your head.

“you’re such a good girl, just one more,” hyunjin nods, like he was making the decision for you, giving you exactly what you wanted.

you didn’t realize that minho was fisting his cock until he came against you, spilling over your stomach. the noise he makes rings right into your ear, a soft whine that was so him that it made you want to cry, and you couldn’t keep the waves of pressure back. your eyes roll back as you come with a cry, your muscles pulling taught like a bowstring as hyunjin keeps fucking you, chasing his own high. he pulls out a moment later, his hand flying across his cock until he comes with a growl, spilling over you.

he collapses by your side and you’re sandwiched between the two men, heavy panting filling the room and your heartbeat lodged in your throat. you feel good, you feel so taken care of that you couldn’t even think past the twitches of pleasure still racking through your body.

minho pulls away first and you let out a soft noise of betrayal, but he comes back just as quickly with a bottle of water pressed to your lips. he helps you drink and in your distraction hyunjin manages to clean your body free of their come. they settle back against you, fitting themselves into your sides like puzzle pieces, and you sigh in contentment.

“how do you feel?” hyunjin asks, looking at you with fond eyes and a soft smile.

“yes,” you answer, fully confident that it was the right answer to his question.

“oh, she feels good,” minho laughs, and it sounds like twinkling bells in your ear.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #lee know smut #straykidsland #stray kids drabbles #lee minho smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin imagines

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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Day 9: Size Kink - Ari Levinson

Summary: Ari was your grumpy (handsome) boss, who never smiled at anyone. So why did he care so much if you smiled at someone else?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, grumpy vs sunshine, arguments, size difference, size kink (Ari is huge in every way), showing off strength, manhandling, spit as lube, fingering, possessive, rough sex

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It had been a long day already; the sun was beaming down, which meant the bar was packed to capacity, with endless drinks and money being swapped. You thrived on days like this, enjoying the perks an extra broad smile could get you from willing customers who hadn’t appreciated service with a smile. Today, there was one specific customer, Matt, who was sitting on a stool in the middle of the bar and had been complimenting you for the entire afternoon.

He was harmless and continuously gave you tips with every drink, so you plastered a great, broad, fake smile that ached your cheeks every time you went near him. Ari watched from the end of the bar at how you smiled towards the stranger and how the man smiled back, and the second your back was turned, his eyes would be searching your body greedily.

Ari’s hand tightened around the beer bottle to the point that he was close to shattering it and had to take a long breath through his nose to calm himself down. Yet, he continued to watch. He always used the excuse that because he was the boss, he needed to keep a close eye on the goings on in his establishment and his employees, but deep down, he knew there was another reason he was always sitting at the bar rather than in his office.

The liquor you needed for your requested drink was empty as you lifted it to show the customer with a closed-lipped smile, “need a new one”, you quickly explained before leaving out the back of the bar.

All of the stock was kept in the cellar, so you descended the steps carefully, taking your time to have a quiet moment to yourself. Scanning the rows of liquid against the wall, you sighed, seeing that the one bottle you needed was on the highest shelf, which you would struggle to reach. Straining up on the tips of your toes, your arm stretched out as far as it could, reaching for the bottle, but a searing warmth burned through the clothes on your lower back as Ari pressed against it, using it as leverage to reach above you to grab the liquor easily.

You jumped at his sudden presence but were also not surprised, as he usually found an excuse to follow you throughout the bar. Peering up at him, you exclaimed, “God, Ari, you scared me. Wait, what’s that look for? What’s wrong?”.

He didn’t say a word, but you knew something wasn’t right by the angry scowl, which usually softened whenever you smiled up at him like you were attempting to do now. Unlike behind the bar, this smile was genuine, and the joy reached your eyes, making them appear as if they were twinkling. Ari would always do feats like this, showing off his staggering size and strength so that he could experience this smile to the point that he seemed to be always standing over you, with his towering height that made your neck ache, one of the few people to make you feel small in stature, dainty even, especially when he became all dominant and acting like the resident bodyguard for the bar. Everyone knew not to mess with the boss.

It was hard not to fall for him; sure that everyone who was attracted to a man fell in love with him as soon as they saw him sitting at the bar or over your shoulder. To be truthful, there were times when you faked not being able to lift a table or heavy pot of glasses just so that he could come and lift things whilst you oggled at his psychic, but he was happy to help, even though he always had that deep frown.

The frown that he was currently still looking at you with enough that it had you feeling slightly uneasy as you looked away to the alcohol in his hand, reaching for it. “Oh, thank you! Don’t think I would have been able to reach that anyway.” Your hand extended to grab the bottle, but he held it back and out of your reach.

Ari’s eyes darkened in colour as he stepped forward, and instinctively, you stepped back until you were pressed against the cool brick wall with his towering body hovering over yours, his arm resting above your head. Despite stepping away from him, the stance didn’t phase you. Once again, he was doing it to show off the size difference, and you made sure not to waver with your smile, still beaming up at him.

Ari’s shoulder-length hair fell to shadow his handsome face, and all you wanted to do was run your fingers through the soft strands and brush them behind his ears. Even though he may appear threatening, you trusted Ari with your entire life, and the two of you always seemed to be teetering on the edge of being flirtatious. Still, you’d never have the courage to make a move, mainly because he was your boss.

The giant man studied you for a long moment, inspecting your face to the point you became self-conscious until they lingered on your smiling lips.

“You need to stop smiling at him”, Ari demanded with his voice low and gravely. Your smile finally dropped as you released a choked laugh, causing your shoulders to shake with the force.

“What? Smiling at who?” you asked, dumbfounded. He gestures with his head, nodding towards the stairs and to the bar when it finally dawned on you who he was referring to. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, “What? Matt, the guy at the bar? He’s harmless, and didn’t you always tell us that we need to serve our drinks with a smile?” As you teased Ari, you raised onto your tiptoes to lean closer and gloat the broad smile that was back on your face.

He didn’t break, continuing to frown, but now his shoulders were tense. “You need to stop”, he growled, stepping even closer until you could feel the warmth from his chest, “You don’t know what he wants, so stop smiling at him; he’ll get his hopes up”.

“Oh, and you know what he wants, do you? You can’t be upset with me because I’m being nice to a customer, and what makes this smile different to all the others that I’ve given to the others?”. You’d come to the realisation that Ari was most likely jealous, and even though it made your heart pound in your chest and excitement wanting to burst from your smile, you had tried to act like you usually did. Even though seeing him being somewhat possessive and obvious with his feelings made you want to shout it from the rooftop.

“Not. With. Him”, Ari grounds out each word with enough venom that you almost wanted to shrink away.

“Fine”, you say with confidence whilst shrugging your shoulders, “So who am I allowed to smile at then? I like happiness and want to smile at someone who returns it. Who else am I supposed to do it with because you sure as hell don’t smile at me”.

Ari doesn't say anything, so you lift a hand and rest it on his shoulders before tapping with your fingers and resisting the urge to give the muscles that you could feel a good squeeze. “You need to relax a little, Boss, it’s fine. I won’t smile at him, I promise. Now, can I go back to work, please?”

All he does is grunt in answer, giving him a Neanderthal appearance as he holds out the bottle of liquor and moves away from the wall to provide you with room to move past him. Accepting the bottle, you thanked him genuinely before walking back towards the stairs with him only an inch behind.

Returning to the bar, you’d expected him to return to his seat at the end, but he stood behind you, staring at Matt with his arms crossed. You wanted to sigh but thought it best not to poke the bear, as they say, especially when he was so riled up.

Pouring the guy's drink, you passed it to him and stated the price, all without a smile. The customer didn’t look in your direction as he eyed Ari, asking, “What’s his problem?” All you did was shrug in response whilst handing out your hand still for the money. Instead of reading the situation and knowing when to keep his mouth closed, Matt made the mistake of muttering under his breath, “I bet he’s an asshole to work for”.

The money for the drink fell into the centre of your palm just as Ari suddenly was at your back, but you tried to push him back, feeling the heat already burning your face with anger as you pointed towards the door. “Get out”, you demanded confidently.

“What?” Matt shouted, astonished that you’d even say such a thing.

“You heard me; get the fuck out” The adrenaline was deciding your actions as you became increasingly angry at what he’d said about Ari. Slamming the money onto the bar counter, you pointed at the door again for emphasis.

Matt finally snapped, kicking back his stool and slamming his drink on the counter, “Are you fucking joking? I’ve just paid for this drink; I’m not leaving!”

Once again, you weren’t sure logic was in control of your body anymore as you did something so out of character it shocked even Ari. Reaching over the bar, you grabbed the drink and poured it over the guy's head before pointing at the door once more, “You don’t have a drink anymore. I’m not asking again. Get the fuck out of his bar, NOW. You don’t talk about the boss like that”.

It was a rare day when you truly lost your temper, so the entire bar had quietened by this point and stared in anticipation. Thankfully, even though the guy looked ready to throw his chair at your head, he instead turned and stumbled out of the doors.

As the atmosphere began to return to normal, the realisation of what you’d just done came to you. Your fingers began to tremble as anxiety sat heavy in your stomach as you tried to take a deep, steadying breath.

That burning, warm palm returned to your lower back as Ari dipped his head to whisper into your ear, “My office, now.” Trying to ignore everyone else's stares, you moved past him as he nodded to the other bar staff to cover your area of the bar whilst he followed you out.

You walk, anger still prevalent even with the anxiety worsening as you realise that you’d technically assaulted one of the customers by throwing his drink at him. What if you get reported? What if Ari thinks you’ve gone too far?

You’re nervously chewing on your thumb when you reach his office at the back of the building. You looked around at the scarcely decorated room with a desk, two chairs and closed blinds so that it was only just illuminated by streaks of sunlight but nothing else, so it was dimly lit. Ari hardly ever used this room, which is why you knew you were in trouble, especially needing a private space to reprimand you so no one could hear if he wanted to shout.

Walking into the centre of the room, you jumped on the spot, turning towards the door that had just been slammed closed by your boss. He stalked towards you, head tilted low as he backed you into a wall like in the cellar.

“I’m so fucking done”, Ari seethed, a vein bulging in his temple and tense muscles lining his arms and shoulders.

You were initially unsure what to say, your lower lip trembling as the anger seeped away, and only the nerves remained. “I’m sorry, Ari, I shouldn’t have thrown the drink at him. I don’t know what I was thinking”.

You had lost confidence and lowered your face to look at the carpeted floor, but Ari was quick to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilt your face so you were looking back into his bearded face. His voice was low and steady as he spoke, “I am so fucking done with this bullshit cat-and-mouse game we have going on”.

This caught you off guard as you blinked away the anxiety, asking, “What?”

Ari dipped his face even lower, and you took a moment to appreciate how big he was and how much lower he had to make himself so that you were face to face. With him this close, you could smell the aftershave he’d sprayed onto his neck this morning, smelling spicy and had your mouth drooling.

“I’m your boss”, Ari interrupted your dirty thoughts, “It’s unprofessional the things that I dream about, but you make it so fucking difficult to remain your boss when you’re smiling all the time. I want to kiss that smile away so you can return to work and stop distracting me. But today, seeing you there shouting at that asshole for me. I can’t stay professional much longer, so here’s your chance. Leave and walk out that door right now, and we’ll never talk about this again, but if you stay”, his eyes lowered from your lips to assess your body in the darkness. “If you stay, I promise you there will be no other thoughts than my name coming out of your pretty little mouth”.

Ari gave you a moment to contemplate and decide. You, however, were not thinking at all, your mind was empty, and the only response was the warming of your cunt, clenching already around nothing as you knew there was no way you were leaving.

Your arms wrapped around his neck before any of your anxiety returned, pulling him down for a heated kiss. Mouths moving with need against the other, causing Ari to moan; actually, MOAN into your mouth as his lips instantly parted and warm tongue brushed against yours. His arms were around your waist, pulling you as close as possible until your breasts were squished against his firm chest.

It felt like your boss was completely surrounding you as his arms expanded over the area of your back, just as firm as his chest, and you could feel the muscles bulging beneath his plaid shirt. Your feet were suddenly off the floor as he lifted you into his arms, your legs securely wrapping around his waist as one of his arms rested beneath your arse as your back connected with the wall again.

He tasted so good, even though it mainly tasted of the beer he’d been drinking; you’ve fantasised about this moment for months. He was just as dominant as you’d predicted, his mouth forcing yours more open to caress his tongue further into your face, almost like he couldn’t reach far enough within and needed to feel every crevice. The hand that wasn’t supporting your weight then moved to your cheek, his long fingers stretching so far they wrapped around the back of your head as he tilted your head slightly to once again attempt to deepen the kiss.

Ari’s jean-covered hips then ground against yours, stoking the fire inside your cunt more. His actions were desperate, wanting to feel every single part of you. It was almost overstimulating to your senses because all you’d managed to do was keep up with the pace of his tongue and lips and stroke your fingers through his hair just as you wanted to do. But Ari, he was all over you, his mouth now exploring your throat, sucking and biting on the areas that made you moan more and send tingles between your thighs.

The sound of clothes ripping then echoed around the office as Ari had become frustrated with the amount of clothes you wore that was stopping his exploration. Your shirt disappeared with a single tear down the middle and then disintegrated onto the floor. Once again, he was showing off his strength, and you really didn’t care, completely and utterly, at this disposal, especially when his mouth was now sucking on your left nipple.

He lapped against the sensitive bud with his tongue flat, then sucked it into his mouth, a tight seal forming with his lips before gently biting with his sharp teeth, causing your back to arch and fingers to grip more firmly into his locks. Ari moved to the other breasts as his fingers then replaced his tongue with the wet breast, pinching and pulling until you were begging for him to touch you there.

Your mewls were not stifled at all, head tipped back and mouth wide open; nothing was filtering your volume, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful that the bar was so busy that the music and talking would hopefully cover your moans of joy.

“Ari! Please give me more!” Pulling on his slightly damp hair from the sweat, you forced his face away from your breasts so that you could devour his mouth. His hips thrust harder into yours, and even though you were both still clothed, you could feel the hardness waiting for you in his tented jeans.

Tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth, Ari groaned and asked, “Tell me you want this, one last chance to change your mind”.

“I need this, Ari, don’t stop”.

Your back left the comfort of the wall as he began to carry you over to his desk, holding you up with one arm. The other wiped any objects onto the floor, giving him the area to lie across.

The wooden surface was cool and welcoming as he again started kissing you, both hands cupping your jaw, holding you firmly in place. Lower he moved, down your throat, collar bones and breasts. As he licked over your stomach, he finally reached to undo your jean button. As he kissed lower, he pulled the material down with him, and only when you felt startling bare did you realise that your underwear had been removed as well.

Sitting up onto your elbows, you silky commented, “You’re wearing too many clothes”. You’d wanted to explore his body with your mouth, but he was just so tall and muscular that you weren’t able to reach him even if you sat up entirely on the desk, so with a rush, you pulled on his shirt, attempting to help remove it from his body and then the same with his jeans. You noticed how his muscles were defined as they became revealed; his abs, covered in a sprinkling of hair, had your mouth watering to touch and lick, but you became distracted by what was between his legs.

Ari Levinson was fucking huge. It was definitely the most enormous cock you’d ever been with, and it shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did. His shaft was thick, and a few veins bulged like he had in his temple when mad. The tip was bulbous, glistening in precum and a deeper shade of red than the rest of his cock. Even his balls that rested beneath his length seemed more prominent than usual, and for a fleeting moment, you contemplated if it was even going to fit.

Seemingly reading your mind, Ari grasped the base of his cock that seemed to throb as your eyes moved up and down it, “Don’t worry, Princess, it’ll fit”.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wanted to tease him a little, so you leaned forward to kiss the tip, your lips becoming salty from his juices. As you licked up the taste, Ari hissed in a breath and pushed against your chest until you were lying lengthways against the desk once more.

As he had been before, Ari manhandled you with ease, lifting one of your legs until it rested on your shoulder. You thought he was going to start fucking you straight away; however, he was just giving his hand a better position. Whilst keeping his eyes on yours, Ari spits a glob directly onto your already-soaked pussy, collecting it with his index finger before pushing it into your cunt. Your back arched into the touch; even his fingers felt thick and made you feel full. He twirled his digit, doing this mostly to stretch and pleasure you. That could be for another time, but right now, he needed to fuck you but respectfully not hurt you either.

One finger turned into two as he added his middle digit, scissoring them both, which made your hole squelch from all of the liquids. One more finger was added, and you felt fuller than ever before. The entrance to your pussy burned slightly from having three of his fingers coaxing you wider, in and out slowly, whilst turning and opening your hole. Your thighs were trembling from the stimulation already, breaths hot and heavy as you gripped the edge of the desk above your head.

How did you even end up in this situation with your boss in his office, customers and staff just outside the door as his fingers pumped into you with expert ease to attempt to fit his cock.

Your leg dropped from his shoulder, but only so he could wrap them both around his waist as he moved closer, a hand next to your head whilst the other gripped the base of his cock as you realised he was finally, at long last, lining up with your throbbing cunt. Reaching you, your fingers dig into his shoulders, gripping him like you’d always dreamed of as his tip slotted to your entrance.

Slowly, he began to push in, and your cries turned desperate. It burned more than the three fingers; his cock was so girthy and thick that you had to concentrate on taking deep breaths to remain relaxed. Inch after inch, he pushed in, and even though the burn didn’t fade immediately, you already loved the sensation of it. It was intense but something only he could provide for you, and with time, your body adjusted, and soon you were trying to rock your hips. Even though he wasn’t even fully penetrated, his tip was pushing into your cervix.

“Ari, you’re so fucking big, Jesus Christ!” your mouth dropped open as high-pitched cries filled the thick, pleasured air.

For one beautiful second, Ari actually chuckled at your desperate reactions, wanting to stay in that moment forever, seeing you laid out beneath him like his own personal platter.

As your warm, gummy walls clenched around his cock did he snap out of his admiration. Still being careful, he moved in and out slowly and held onto your waist tightly to keep you from sliding down the desk with how tightly your cunt was hugging his cock.

Eventually, you became used to it a bit more, which meant that you began to beg for it harder, needing to feel him closer, so he dropped himself down until his lips were next to your ear and his hand around your throat to hold you still.

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” he growled with a promise never to let you go.

That beautiful grin he loved so much was suddenly beaming up at him, your fingers moving to grip the wrist that was golding your throat as you declared, “I’m all yours, Ari Levinson”.

“Fuck, I love that smile”, he admits between thrusts, his eyes unblinking so that he didn’t miss a single twitch of your face as it flooded with pleasure. However, his need to taste you took over once more as he kissed you deeply, groaning and squeezing your throat a little harder but not enough to cut off your air.

The wetness of your pussy leaked over your thighs as his desk wobbled with each thrust. Your entire body felt like it was on fire which all resonated down to your core, feeling it tighten to match the hardening in your gummy walls, suffocating his cock further in its harsh grip.

“So big, you’re so damn big, Ari, fuck I’m going to cum”, you shouted, pulling on his hair to snap his head back so that you could breathe and shout out between thrusts. He leaned up on his arm to watch your reactions again, from the furrowed eyebrows, eyes wide and pupils blown, the swollen lips that were forming the perfect O shape as you finally came.

Your cunt had been stretched so wide that when you came, you could feel it more in your abdomen than the contractions that usually fluttered through your walls. The orgasm, therefore, lasted longer because you were overstimulated and confused with the sensation. Still, even though you couldn’t necessarily feel how your pussy squeezed, Ari sure could as he cursed loudly, releasing your neck to slam his hand on the desk as he unexpectedly pulled out just as he began to cum.

Looking between your bodies, you watched in amazement as thick spurts of his seed shot out the end of his cock and coated your stomach. With his cock now resting over your body as he shouted through his orgasm, you could see that if he had been able to fit his entire cock inside of you, it would have reached your navel. It was that big.

As both of your moans quiet to just heavy breathing, your head dropped back onto the desk, arms and legs having no more energy, also collapsed to your side. Thankfully, Ari could see the exhaustion you were experiencing, and once he’d calmed down enough, he found a box of tissues on the floor and gently wiped away the mess he’d created on your stomach.

Peaking open an eye, you looked down your body towards where your boss knelt, “I hope you aren’t expecting me to go back to work.” your voice was thick and croaky as you smiled down at him. His blue eyes flicked up to your tired face as he raised a single eyebrow, midwipe, so you continued, “I don’t think I can walk, and you’ve ripped my shirt”.

Ari smirked, standing up again to throw the tissue into the bin. He looked your body up and down, “You know, you could just wear my shirt”.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’ll go down well with everyone like it wasn’t already obvious that we’ve come in here for a quick fuck”.

His body leans forward, hovering over yours, all bulging muscles and hulking size making you feel small again as he confidently states, “Well, they better get used to it. You’re mine, remember?”.

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson one shot #red sea diving resort #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

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yanderenightmare · 8 months

Text

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold.

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together.

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking.

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving.

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.”

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served.

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.”

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.”

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist.

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end.

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips.

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-”

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting.

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

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kiwiikato · 2 months

Text

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Nine

masterlist

note: so like i died.... IM SORRY EVERYONE, i have so many comments to read and respond to so i'm sorry for the disappearing. i just get so busy with my mental health and family. i don't have tumblr on my phone always, it's an on and off thing so thank you for the patience. this chapter is really choppy and maybe misspelling. sorry guys <3 :(

you sat cross legged on the floor at the hidden base under kenji's house. kenji and mina were with you as you stared at the baby kaiju who babbled and cooed at the cartoons that played for her.

you watched as kenji admired himself in the reflection of the containment unit, styling it for his public image. you couldn't help but to tag along in admiring him as well, it isn't everyday that you get to admire athletically attractive kenji sato! but it was not your everyday, for the past months it has been.

"mina, we got plenty of fish and pon de rings, right?" ken asked as he straightened out his coat. "yes ken, we're all stocked up." ken turned around, turning to the both of you. "now if she wakes up, put her show on. let her dance her little heart out to that stupid song. and if there's any trouble, you let y/n know. and if you need additional help, you ping me on this."

ken raised his arm, showing off his watch to you both. "ken, she's never been safer. have a good time." mina said reassuring him of the baby kaiju's safety. he smiled softly, turning to you as he crouched down to your level. "let me know if you need anything, okay? i'll drop everything and come back. i'll be back soon, don't worry that pretty little head of yours about this interview either, okay?"

you nodded, giving him a happy "okay!" to which he smiled back. "atta girl." his hands found your face as he pulled you in, placing a kiss on your lips and then another on your head. you blushed at his affectionate actions, still not so used to them. he smiled as he got up, walking away to the interview he had promised to ms. wakita.

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you got rid of the containment unit that held your baby kaiju in, asking for help from mina to pull up a hologram of an area covered with trees. the reason why was to show the baby how to play a game of hide and seek.

she was getting restless and persistent asking for kenji to come back. none of the videos playing were enough to satisfy her so you took it upon yourself to distract her with a new game.

you showed her you hiding behind a tree or a bush of sorts, giving her time to mimic you. it didn't take long for her to get the movement down as she copied you. "good job girl! you got this." you said cheering her on.

it was then that an idea came into your head. "mina, can you help me with a demonstration?" mina floated down towards you. "yes y/n, what would you like me to do?" she asked as she hovered in front of you.

"can you do me the favor of counting to twenty, letting me hide in that duration of time like your typical game of hide and seek. i want to show the baby kaiju how to do it so we can both play." mina nodded in her own way, flying to a tree near by.

she 'closed' her eyes as she faced the tree and waiting for your signal. "okay baby, me and mina are gonna show you hide and seek. just sit and watch, okay?" you told her as she cooed. "okay, ready mina!"

you ran as you heard mina began to count down. your feet hit the floor as you ran through the trees, looking for one in a closed area to hide you better. diving into the area, you crouched down, pulling your body to your knees to make yourself look smaller, more hidden to mina.

mina soon hit twenty, moving away from the tree and began to look for you. the baby kaiju watched, wondering where you went. her eyes followed as mina searched for you, yelling your name out to lure you out. no response came from you, showing no signs of who she considered to be her parent.

it wasn't long before she panicked, her eyes began to glaze over with tears, bringing her to cry as she yelled out for you. your body that was hidden stiffened hearing her cry, instantly jumping away from the trees that blocked you from her view.

"mina! call the hologram off!" mina instantly stopped playing, returning the big room back into its metallic silver state. you turned into your ultra form, rushing to her as you picked her up. you held her to your chest, softly rubbing her back as you rocked her side to side. her head perched at your shoulder as her small hands wrapped around your neck and shoulder.

"there there. i'm here, everything's okay." you hummed softy, trying to soothe her. "would you like me to pull out the containment unit for her?" mina floated up to you asking. "yes please, that would be nice, thank you."

the containment unit rose from the ground, opening to allow you to put the baby kaiju inside the familiar area. she grabbed the crushed car, hugging it to her body. "do you want to see daddy?" mina asked her to which she cooed. you watched as her eyes lit up, having a soft spot for kenji.

"here you go." mina pulled out videos of kenji making her happily spin around to watch them all, forget in about the incident from earlier. "how about a snack while you watch?" mina asked as a small platform with a huge fish rose to her. "oooh look at the fishy, so yummy!" you cheered as she grabbed the fish and ate it happily.

her joyful expression didn't last long, changing into one of discomfort as her stomach grumbled from the fish she ate. she burped out, a green circle of gas leaving her lips as she looked at it weirdly.

"oh my! what you're experiencing is acid reflux. symptoms include heartburn, nausea-" mina was cut off by the baby opening her mouth, a nuclear burp of sorts shooting out a laser that burned through the glass of the containment unit.

you and mina panicked, as she escaped, pushing through the hole, letting her out into the open space. the whole room set off with alarms, flashing the room with red and sirens. mina ran to the side waving her robotic arms. "look over here. look at daddy. he's right here!" a inflatable figure of kenji grew from the ground, looking slightly disturbing at the way his face was plastered on.

you stared at it confused. "where did you even get this mina?" "please do not question." you laughed slightly, returning back to the situation as the baby kaiju ran up to the inflatable and hugged 'kenji'.

"y/n, go searching for kenji. he's not answering his watch and i'm worried we won't be able to fix this situation ourselves. he's at tonkatsu tonki."

you nodded your head, quickly running out of the place, not without hearing the pop of the inflatable. you ran into kenji's garage, taking one of his other motorcycles to reach him. 'sorry ken, hope you don't mind this.' you thought to yourself as you revved the engine and drove forward.

the wind fought against your body as you sped quickly off onto the bridge, stunned at how it grew over the body of water that separated you from the city. it wasn't long before you reached the main land, driving around in a hurry to where ken would be.

you had to stop at a red light, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. your eyes widened, watching a pink object jump over the city as it landed down and chased after something. "is that-" your phone rang, quickly answering it to mina.

"y/n, the baby is in daikanyama, i was able to contact ken, he is currently heading that way." "thank you mina." you hit the gas in the motocycle when the lights turned green, quickly cutting between traffic in a rush to reach the baby kaiju.

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ken frantically drove through the roads, searching for the baby after his alarm had went off signaling him of the chaos that was happening at his house.

"ken, a disturbance has been reported in daikanyama. there seems to be a large, pink creature terrorizing the locals. i am sorry. i'm a terrible babysitter." mina told him over his helmet of his motorbike. "yes, yes you are! where is y/n?!" he yelled over to mina.

"she is currently searching the baby kaiju. i had sent her out to contact you since you had not been answering my alerts over your watch. in the short time that she was gone, the baby had escaped." he groaned, worried but glad to know that he wasn't the only one looking for her.

"ken, i have located her, she is not too far from you." "maybe i can get to her before-" he was cut off hearing the sound of the KDF drones fly over him. panic set over his as he watched them for the baby. "send the location to y/n!" he yelled out in fear.

"location has been sent, she will be there." mina responded back as ken zoomed through the colorful city. you, on the other hand, zapped into your ultra form, jumping into the sky as you flew quickly over the city. the motorbike had been set down on top of the roof of a building, trying to prevent it from being stolen.

your eyes landed on the baby kaiju who chased after some people. you recognized one of them as the reporter that ken had the interview with, as she ran with an older lady and a child in her arms. you landed roughly on the ground. you were started to see that kenji had arrived right after you.

the both of you made eye contact, focusing on the problem at hand. "hey! come on, come on." kenji yelled out to her, making the baby turn out at look at you both, jumping up at joy. "come to mommy and ...daddy." you heard as he hesitated to call himself that, not used to the idea of being a caregiver for something officially. "come here baby." you said as you crouched down, opening your arms for her to run into.

the crown around gasped, reminding you of being in public. you quickly stiffed up as kenji verbally panicked. "uh i- i mean, stop there, beast!" he posed dramatically, kneeling on one knee as he placed on hand on his hip and the other in front of him in a stop motion.

you snickered at him, until you heard the familiar rumbles. your eyes turned to see the babies eyes grow wide as she closed her mouth in a desperate motion. "no, no, no..." kenji mumbled watching as she look like she was about to barf. but she didn't, instead another laser shot out from her mouth, slamming against shields that the both of you had made in front of you to not get hurt.

the laser bounced off from your shields, knocking down a pac man statue that kenji picked up. "uh mina, we have a situation. baby just melted pack man." you got up from the kneeling position, "kenji!" you were calling out for him to turn, seeing the baby kaiju start to walk away.

leaving him in his conversation with mina, you chased after the baby. desperate to reach for her and to have her back in your arms. she bounced and jumped after people who sat in go carts, excited to catch what she thought was a toy that shined colors in the road. you fearfully moved around after her, scared of stepping on something or someone.

"hey! baby!" you yelled out for her to look back at you but instead she continued to run. you internally cussed, aggravated at the situation at hand. finally she stopped running, causing you to skid to a stop.

you looked up seeing her eyes on something. a sort of robotic machine, just like in the shape of mina floated around her. tiny coos of happiness came out from her, possibly confusing it for mina. her joy was gone as she watched it change shapes, making her turn her head to the side.

"baby, come to me, please." you took slow and quiet steps but the machine flew in front of her, right in between the both of you. "stupid KDF." you mumbled as you walked slower. the thing suddenly shot out a needle with green liquid at her leg, causing her to stumble.

you weren't that clothes, and you were still in the main street of people, so walking was becoming an issue. you watched with fear as she pulled out a street light pole, holding it up to her body as she whacked the robot towards you. you quickly caught it in your hands, squashing the machine and dropping the broken pieces of metal.

she happily jumped towards you, you went to grab at her. she was right there, in the grasp of your fingers, yet she slipped away. it felt like the world was against you. all you wanted more than ever was her in your arms.

she jumped high, highest you've ever seen as she's launched herself a metal tower. she was far from your reach again. you groaned as you ran through the street, hoping you hadn't stepped on anything.

you watched as she jumped up, climbing the tall structure. it was almost like the world held some pity for you as you saw kenji run up to her. "where's baby? there she is! come down! right now, be careful!" you watched him yell for her to return as you got closer. jumping, you were able to land next to him.

"she's not listening ultraman! she's not going to come back down. we have to go up." you said panting slightly. your hands found the bar of the tower, grabbing onto it as you climbed up in a hurry. you just wanted your baby. kenji took the hint and climbed up as well, jumping up farther, almost like a spider monkey.

a swarm of KDF jets and robots swarmed in at the both of you, surrounding the baby. you watched as they shot more of the similar needles from earlier ago, covering her back in multiple needles.

a shrill cry was heard from the baby kaiju, now slightly dangling at the attack she experienced. you quickly climbed up trying to get to her but a jet flew in front of you, trying to stop you from reaching them. kenji shot out a blast of energy, hitting al the small robots to get away from the baby kaiju.

the jet in front of you flew into your hair, shooting out a smoke bomb of sorts, blocking our your vision. you waved at the smoke, trying to get rid of it as you coughed. you heard kenji yell out. "hold on! i'm coming!" making you panic more since you couldn't see much.

you heard a cry from the baby kaiju, making you climb up in a hurry, unaware of your surroundings, just to reach her. "NO!" you heard kenji yell out, till a snap of sorts was heard. "y/n y/n, please help." you heard a voice call out to you in a soft whisper, laced with worry and panic.

"i can't see, fuck, where are you?" you called out. "climb higher, i'll be right here." you quickly climbed up till you could finally see. you stared at the baby kaiju who laid in kenji arms. "what happened??" you asked.

"she was right there - she was falling and i tried reaching but i just could barely reach and something snapped - she's hurt, fuck, she's hurt." he turned to look down at the baby while breathing heavily. "shh it's okay, you're gonna be okay, daddy's here." you went to reach out to him, to carry the baby, but before you could the jets of the KDF surrounded you.

"ultras! turn the infant over to the KDF and we will take no action against the both of you." kenji and you looked at each other. you felt your eyebrows furrow in anger at their offer while kenji growled to himself. he turned to you, giving an almost 'up' motion with his head. you knew what he meant.

the both of you blasted off into the air, flying away from the scene of the attack. "give her to me kenji, i'll make sure she's okay." kenji passed the baby kaiju to you. you held her to your body, your body wanting to protect her from any more pain.

"mina, she's hurt! prepare the base! we have to call him. call my dad." his voice sounded hurt, scared of what was to happen. you could only hold the baby closer than before, careful with her arm, as you floated to his house.

TAGLIST!

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @22carolina08 @coffetears @vyxnn-xage

#ken sato #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #professor sato #ultraman #ultraman rising #kenji sato x reader

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wreckingtickles · 2 months

Text

Ruffling Their Feathers

Bakugo and Todoroki are captured by the double-crossing Hawks, and they happen to have the second half of a code he and Dabi want. Hawks has a very... unconventional idea on how to get them to talk.

Characters: Lees Baku + Todo, ler Hawks (minor ler Dabi)

Words: 7,312

Couldn't find a similar picture for Todoroki (I need an archive of MHA characters looking might ticklish), so Bakugo's footer will have to do.

That frown's going away real soon.

Very intense and barely SFW foot tickles below the cut!

“It’s your fault!”

“It’s no one’s fault. We couldn’t have known that there was a traitor in the squad.”

Bakugo and Todoroki’s latest one-sided argument, a staple of their relationship since the provisional license course, was caused by their capture at the hands of the League of Villains.

It had all begun with a typo. They were supposed to be at the agency by 15:15, but the message they received instructed them to be there at 14:15. So they’d arrived just in time to see Hawks download the codes to the heroes’ secret communications channel, only half of which was given to each team.

They didn’t remember much else prior to waking up in that square, empty room, seated side by side facing the door that would usher in who knew what horrors.

The irritation at being taken out so easily was compounded by their inability to access their Quirks, which had them more than a little worried, as did their restraints: their wrists were fitted through two holes in the middle of a set of stocks that also held their ankles, one at either side of their hands, so they were hunched forward with their knees bent. The most concerning part, however, was the fact that on top of every part of their costumes that could be used as a weapon or contain hidden gadgets, their boots had also been removed and each of their toes pulled back and restrained individually, just barely out of reach of their fingers. It didn’t need a genius to surmise that if they couldn’t break out soon, they would be tortured.

Bakugo badly needed someone to blame, and Todoroki was the perfect anvil to his hammer. But the half-and-half hero wouldn’t need to wait for his crabby companion to run out of steam as Dabi and Hawks walked into the room.

“Hello, boys!” said Hawks cheerfully, greeting them as if they’d just come across each other in a shopping center.

“Fuck you, you disgusting two-faced piece of shit!”

“Traitor,” greeted Todoroki.

“I appreciate you’re angry and disappointed, but understand that, from my perspective, your good intentions are getting in the way of true justice,” explained Hawks, mostly to Todoroki, as Bakugo’s barrage of epithets made conversation with him impossible.

Dabi leaned against the wall next to the door, both glaring at Todoroki.

“Now, let me reassure you that your Quirks aren’t gone forever. We only take drastic measures if they’re strictly necessary,” explained the feathered villain.

“Your father will still have a use for you,” uttered Dabi with a venomous grin. “That is, unless we choose to ruin you for good.”

“Come on, Dabi, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar!”

“And you kill more moths with fire.” A blue flame appeared in his palm, the sight of which finally silenced Bakugo. “So?”

“If my methods don’t work, you’re free to have your way with them,” conceded Hawks. “But I know it will. I tested them. Leave this to me.”

“Forget it. You’re an idiot and you’re wasting everybody’s time. The only reason we’re doing it your way for now is that Shigaraki put you in charge of their interrogation, and that’s only because he doesn’t know about your ridiculous plan.”

“Shouldn’t you have had this discussion before coming in here?” interjected Todoroki.

Dabi glared, taking a step towards Todoroki, who gave a start.

Bakugo gave him the side eye. He shouldn’t be showing fear. But Dabi had stopped his advance, a nonplussed look on his face, while Todoroki kept fidgeting next to Bakugo.

Before Bakugo could wonder what was happening, his head whipped forward with alarm as he felt something on his right foot. A light, insistent pressure moving up his sole, heel to toes, then back down. He hafted in place, but no matter how much he stretched his fingers, he couldn’t even reach his toes.

What was that?!

“As I was saying,” resumed Hawks, stepping closer to the captives, wings beginning to unfurl, “I need the second half of the code for the agency’s comms, and you guys will give it to us.”

“Or?” spat Bakugo, Todoroki growing more restless next to him. He saw a red feather detach itself from the top of Hawks’s left wing and fly through the air towards him, specifically towards his left foot, where it began to move erratically, dragging its plumes across his arch. But even though Bakugo now understood what the pressure on both of his soles was, it didn’t click for him until Hawks said, “I’ll tickle it out of you.”

Bakugo should have been relieved. They weren’t going to hurt them, at least for the time being. But all he could feel was outraged, outraged that Hawks seriously thought that they’d sell out the pros over something so childish, so insignificant. “Are you fucking kidding me?! Just because it’s so easy for you to sell out, do you really think--"

And then he heard it. A chuckle. Not from Hawks, not even from Dabi. From Todoroki. To his left, Todoroki was jerking his legs, his face scrunched in an attempt to stifle an obvious smile and the sounds of mirth that were trying to spill out of his mouth.

Bakugo felt betrayed for the second time that day. “You gotta be shitting me.”

Todoroki could feel every plume, every tiny barb on the tip of each of those two feathers as it bent to fit the curve of his sole, dozens, hundreds of them being dragged up and down the bottom of his straight, slim feet.

Hawks smirked while Dabi looked transfixed, almost as speechless as Bakugo. “Well, well, look at Endeavor’s prized spawn now,” he commented as he allowed the corner of his lip to curl up ever so slightly.

“Dude, for real?!” whined Bakugo, but Todoroki couldn’t answer, as he kept squirming and whipping his head side to side, his eyes scrunched shut.

“I, I cahan’t h-hehelp it!” whine the half-and-half hero, instantly regretting trying to speak as he had to double his efforts to prevent any even more embarrassing sounds from coming out. Having grown up with a criminally abusive father and having been separated from his siblings, the only person who had tickled him for most of his life was his mother, and a long time had gone by since the last time. Then, when he began attending UA, first Deku and then Kirishima allowed Todoroki to discover that he was, in fact, still ticklish, and very much so, as if he had never been inured to it, which also led to another crucial difference between him and Bakugo: while the latter wouldn’t allow himself to laugh unless his very worst spots were targeted (though his poker face was terrible), Todoroki was completely unable to cope with the sensation and stifle his reactions.

And the two feathers were barely trying at all.

“Your ‘method’ doesn’t seem to be working on the other one,” observed Dabi. Sure, watching Endeavor’s son squirm from something so silly was entertaining, but they were supposed to move out as soon as Shigaraki called them, and to have the information by then.

“Of course it doesn’t fucking work, who do you think you’re dealing with?!”

Hawks shrugged. “I can also do this.”

“Like this stupid fucking thing is going to work oHOn--!”

Bakugo bit his tongue when the plume ends of the feathers were replaced by their sharp quills.

“That silenced him? Good,” remarked Dabi.

“D-Don’t be an idiot, t-this is nothing!!” protested Bakugo, wincing when the feathers scratched at the ball of his foot.

Next to him, Todoroki went on eeping with his eyes scrunched shut. He didn’t have so strong an opinion as Bakugo on which method was worse yet, but both were proving quite effective, especially when the feathers trailed up and down his arches.

“I think you heard him,” Dabi told Hawks, suddenly appearing a lot more into it than before.

“I sure did,” claimed Hawks as he grinned at Bakugo a moment before a flock of feathers flew off his wings and swarmed the captives’ soles.

“TCH!!” escaped Bakugo’s lips, his cheeks puffed up and becoming a deeper shade of red every second.

Todoroki skipped the giggling phase entirely. “Noahahahahahahahahahahahahhaaha!!!! Iihihihhihit tihihihicklehehehehehsss!!!!” he protested, a surprisingly innocent expression of mirthful suffering on his face that would have melted anyone’s heart. Anyone’s, but his current tickler’s.

“You really should have kept your mouth shut,” commented Dabi as he shot the beet-red, thrashing Bakugo an amused grin, voicing Todoroki’s thoughts while the trainee was too busy failing to cope with the onslaught of sensation.

Hawks was thorough. There was a feather sawing between the heroes’ toes and swiping at the stems, while the tip of another ran left and right across their base. There was a quill scratching at the center of the ball and spiraling outward and another outlining the underside. Plumes teased the inner part of the instep while another feather ran up and down the arch, and two more focused on the heel and its conjunction with the arch.

The feathers on Bakugo’s feet all used their quill end, save for the ones sawing between his toes, while the ones working Todoroki over mixed and matched approaches. It was the weirdest and most humiliating display of masterful control over one’s Quirk that either trainee had ever experienced.

Unbridled laughter spilled forth from Todoroki, the variety of methods and the multiplicity of spots under fire subjecting him to a sensation that he’d only started to reacquaint himself with a few months prior thanks to his classmates, who’d been delighted to discover that the serious golden child was super ticklish and didn’t know how to handle it in the slightest.

His left foot was proving to be once again more sensitive than the right, though even just the latter would have been enough to turn him into a hysterical mess. The colder sole was not as vulnerable to the plumes as the left, upon which plumes and quills wreaked twinned havoc.

Seeing the trainee writhe like he was experiencing actual torture sparked a miasma of disgust in the pit of Dabi’s stomach. “Endeavor’s son just gave up, uh,” he mocked. “I’m kind of disappointed.” Yet the amused twinkle in his eye gave the lie to his bored tone.

“He really laughs like he’s never been tickled before,” chuckled Hawks, effortlessly multitasking while putting the two aspiring heroes through their paces. “Guess his home life wasn’t the best. Well, we’re going to make him real happy unless he fesses up.”

The miasma began to lift as Dabi contemplated Todoroki’s helplessness in the face of the ridiculous torment. But if his laughter sparked conflicting feelings of contempt and morbid fascination in the villain, Bakugo was far less ambivalent about how he felt about it.

He loathed it. He truly did. He wanted to punch the hero for letting those degenerates think that… that preposterous, humiliating method would work. Todoroki’s hilarity was peer-pressuring him into giving in as well, surrendering to the overpowering invitation of the over a dozen quills searing his nerves, loosening the locks on his lungs and lips from which a cacophony of grunts, snorts, and even embarrassing yelps slipped out, but no laughter, no, no laughter, it if was the last thing he did!!

What Dabi and Hawks saw was an extremely ticklish guy bellowing and writhing like he was being electrocuted.

“He really hates it,” deadpanned Dabi.

Having an already solid grasp on what made the short-fused trainee tic despite having known him for a few days only, Hawks took that chance to say, “I don’t know if I should be impressed that he’s not laughing his head off despite being so ticklish, or pity him for thinking that he’s fooling anyone.”

“KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! GHHHHHHHH!!! SH-SHHUUUUUUUTTT-- NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Nope, no talking.

Hawks’s smirk grew a little wider. It’d be so easy to crack him. But… “It would be healthier if you let it out, you look like you’re about to pop a vein,” he recommended as he had his feathers move slightly faster. Dabi didn’t notice the shift except through the rise in pitch in Todoroki’s laughter and Bakugo’s pointless struggling growing even more desperate.

If only they could reach their feet, shield them from the pesky feathers, they were right there, just out of reach!!

Suddenly, the tickling slowed down. None of the feathers left their post, but they eased up enough that the terribly ticklish captives would be able to understand Hawks’s next words.

“M-Motherf--" Bakugo tried to say while catching his breath, allowing some of his contracted muscles to relax, but he couldn’t risk getting the entire word out.

Todoroki’s laughter decreased to a steady stream of breathless giggles. The tears at the corners of his half-closed eyes, the blush on his cheeks, the forced yet carefree-looking smile… Hawks had to admit that he looked precious.

“Now, let’s practice loosening your tongues a little,” Hawks started, pacing around them like a drill sergeant. “I assume neither of you wants to spill the beans yet?”

Bakugo lunged at him with a bite, but Hawks was out of reach.

“Baby steps. So I’ll make you an offer. If you tell me where it tickles the most I promise I will be nice…r.”

Dabi quirked an eyebrow. Really?

Hawks nodded back confidently, stopping in front of the two trainees. “You don’t want me to find out on my own.”

Bakugo and Todoroki glared as well as they could under their present circumstances.

“Any takers?” Hawks asked nonchalantly.

Even Todoroki made a show of clenching his jaw, although sputtering giggles soon leaked out.

“Too bad,” sighed Hawks. “For you, I mean.”

Without warning, the eight feathers tormenting each foot converged on the heel, scribbling madly at and all around the mound.

“Nohohoht agahahahahaahhaahinnn!!!” giggled Todoroki, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried and failed to pull his feet back through the stocks, scrunch up his soles, cover them with his hands, anything.

“TCH! F-Fuhuck t-thihis!!!” snarled Bakugo, his restlessness mirroring Todoroki’s but with a more irate tinge.

“Hey Dabi, wanna compare and contrast?” asked Hawks.

“Leave me out of it.”

“I thought Todoroki was the most ticklish of the two, but I’m not so sure anymore,” said Hawks, knowing how to push Bakugo’s buttons.

“GGGGGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!”

“I can’t really tell. Let’s try the arch.”

The avian congregation climbed a little higher, up the slope of the arch. About half of the feathers harassing Todoroki switched to sawing their plumes up and down his arch, left and right, while Bakugo, whom Hawks knew to be less responsive to this method, got the full sixteen quills.

“Ohohohohohoh nohohoOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!! NOOOOHAHHAHAHAAT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEREEEEE!!!”

Todoroki’s giggling once again morphed into full-blown laughter, the loudest as of yet. Though the strength behind his attempts to break free seemed to have waned before, he redoubled his futile efforts, pulling at his wrists and ankles as if it would save him, or somehow make the sensation more bearable.

“Looks like I’ve found a sweet spot,” gloated Hawks, but he wasn’t content with that apparent victory. He carefully observed Todoroki’s body language, noticing that every few seconds, he would lean to the right, until his energy ebbed and he slumped forward again, only to repeat the maneuver moments later as the feathers completed another pass. He didn’t seem to be trying to lean closer to Bakugo, no, there was something else… afoot. And Hawks thought he knew exactly what that was.

But that wasn’t all that he noticed. Bakugo had lowered his head, no doubt to prevent the villains from seeing his expression - as if his body wasn't eloquent enough. That position would only hinder his breathing, depleting his stamina faster and making it even harder to endure a prolonged attack. Hawks wondered if he was even aware of the high-pitched whine, like the wind-up to a scream, that he was emitting as he desperately tried to keep his mouth closed. But the most interesting part was how Bakugo would occasionally freeze up for a moment when the quills hit the very top of the arch, only for him to kick with both legs an instant later.

Hawks tested his theory by having the feathers linger on that spot a couple of seconds longer than they did during previous passes. Sure enough, Bakugo’s purple face shot up for a moment, the curses he wanted to utter dying into a defeated growl.

Hawks knew he could have broken him simply by staying there, but he had a flair for the dramatic. So he moved the feathers to the center of the arch, renewing Todoroki’s hysterical fit, before abruptly moving all the feathers to the balls of the heroes’ feet.

Bakugo’s head shot up again, this time to hurl a fiery glare at Hawks, equal parts incredulity and betrayal, but really, a recognition that breaking had always been inevitable.

“Three…” chanted Hawks, smiling at Bakugo, whose face looked like it was about to burst open.

“Tw--"

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLL KIIIIIHIHIHIILLLL YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUHUHUHUHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAA!!”

“Oh wow. When he breaks, he breaks hard,” remarked Hawks, pretending to cover one of his ears. Dabi ignored him, though he caught him sneaking glances at Todoroki, whose hysteria was eclipsed by the violence with which Bakugo’s damn had burst, but ever-present nonetheless.

There was no overselling the all-encompassing loathing that Bakugo felt at that moment, having fallen short of his own self-serving standards. It simply did not compute that a traitor who had everything Bakugo wanted would torture them in such a childish way, and that Bakugo would be unable to shrug it off.

The quills pricked and scratched at the sensitive pads, with a special regards for the very center as Hawks had immediately figured out it was one of the most sensitive parts, lavishing plenty of attention on the underside too, the perfect recipe to keep the resentful laughter flowing.

“FUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCCKKK!!! YOHOHOUUHUHUHU BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASTAHAHAHAHARD!!! ILL KIIIIII-- STOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAPPPP THAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHATTTT!!!”

“This is great,” chuckled Hawks.

“You’re weird.”

Hawks shrugged. “Eh, it’s just fun to take them down a peg. Especially that one. Hey, are you laughing too hard to hear me? ‘Cause later, we’re spending plenty of time on that spot that you seem to like so much.”

Sadly, Bakugo could hear him, but any retort he tried to cook up got swallowed by the involuntary gales that those tiny, harmless feathers kept pumping out of him.

Though the journey from the ball of his foot to the toes was a very short one, Bakugo could tell Hawks was trying to drag it out as much as possible, slowly dragging the quills as well. There was an understanding that he wasn’t done.

The feathers then began sawing between and across the trainees’ toes. This method proved especially effective on Todoroki, the obvious jolt running through him confirming that that was a more sensitive spot than the ball, so Hawk kept five feathers per foot swishing between and along his toes while three more scratched at the base, occasionally poking the tips too.

But Hawks knew that he could do better with Bakugo, so he kept one quill poking and scribbling under the base of each toe, with the plume end of just one feather swishing across the stems, one quill planted firmly in the center of his big toe, and one more poking each of the other tips in turn.

The trainees didn’t have the chance to marvel at Hawks’s unmatched coordination, the combination of precision and effectiveness he was unleashing on them, but they certainly did feel its effects.

“Hahahaha HAHAHAAHAH!!! Nohohohohhoho moHOHOHohohahahahahaharrEHEHEHEHE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahaahahahahahahhaahahahahahahahaha!!!” pleaded Todoroki, ticklish tears pouring down his cheeks and collecting on his seat between his legs. He felt as if he’d been abducted by aliens, unable to comprehend what was happening to him or why. Part of him probably felt embarrassed, but the shock, the absurdity of it all, removed his ego from the equation, leaving him alone before a sensation he’d only experienced a handful of times through his classmates, and through his mother so many years prior.

Bakugo wasn’t faring that much better. He was naturally louder than Todoroki, but for the first time in his life, he was trying to keep it down, and failing. Hawks couldn’t have devised a better method to tickle that area.

“HAHAHahahaahahahahaha!!! FIHIHIHIHght mehehEHEHEHE liiiihihihiKEEEHEHEH AAHAHAHA maaaahahahahahahahAAAAAHAHAHAHANNN!! OHOHOHO hahahahahahaha!!!”

“You want to fight me?” Hawks snickered. “I don’t fight widdle tickly babies.”

“SHHUUUUUUHAHAHAHAHAT!! UUHUHUUHAHAHAHAHAHHAPPP!!!!”

Oh, the sheer frustration Bakugo felt at his own ticklishness preventing him from discharging his anger was immense, but the imposed hilarity sapped even that.

Hawks walked around to his side. “It tickles less than before, right? I’m sure you can stop laughing if you really try. Come on!”

Bakugo was trying, he was trying so hard, and Hawks’s mockery messed even more with his concentration. But the genie was out of the bottle.

“HaahahahaHAHAHAHAHAH!!! ………….PPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAahaahahahahahaha!!! NNNNNNNNGGGggggghhhhhh…………. ggggghAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Hawks began to circle around them, removing his black leather gloves as he did so. “Remember that this all will stop if you give me the code.”

He stopped in front of the stocks, throwing his gloves to Dabi, who reflexively caught them in mid-air and then dropped them.

He wiggled his fingers mere inches away from their feet. He waited long enough for them to see it, his left hand approaching Bakugo’s left sole, his right nearing Todoroki’s right, only to drift further to the side, to the left sole he’d determined to be more sensitive.

“Don’t forget, this hawk has talons too.” And he struck.

Dabi nearly gave a start as the room got a lot louder than he’d expected.

“NOOOAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! IHIHIHIHIHITT TIHIHIHHICKLEHEHEHESSSS!!! DOOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHN’T!!!”

“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHIHIHIHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!! KEEHEHEHP YOUHUR FUHUHUHUHCKING HAHAHAHAHANDS… NAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

True to his word, Hawks had chosen violence. His short, dull nails scratched expertly at the ball of Bakugo’s foot and at the arch of Todoroki’s, having identified them as their weakest spots.

The volume and desperation of their laughter was all the confirmation he needed.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! YOUHUHUHHUHU CAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHANNN’T!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“BWAHAHAHWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IHIHIHHILL KIHIHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! CUHUHUT THAHAHAHAHAT OOOOOHUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA!!! I SAHAHAHAHD-- NAHAHAHAHAHAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!”

The feathers didn’t remain idle either. He left five on Todoroki’s right foot to complement the motions of his fingers, so they’d target his toes when he was busy with the arch, and the arch when he was busy with his toes, while the eleven on the left flitted back and forth between those two spots, skidding up and down the ball as well as they changed posts.

Hawks was no kinder to Bakugo, his wiggling fingers focusing on the ball and the base of his toes together with three feathers. The remaining fifteen ravaged the same two spots on his right foot, especially the center and underside of the pad. Naturally, all used their quill end.

It was pinpoint torment neither trainee knew how to deal with, Hawks’s dexterous touches appearing to raise the temperature and depleting their stamina and sanity alike while they felt their dignity slowly but sonorously leak out in the form of laughter they couldn’t control, the traitor having completely hijacked their ability to express themselves.

“As you can see, I’m a man of my word,” began Hawks. “Am I not?”

“EHEHEHHNOHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGH!!! PLEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHASEEE!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHHAHAHHA!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHCK!!!”

“You gotta say it if you want me to stop. I’m a man of my word, am I not?”

Todoroki wasn’t completely opposed to indulging villains in case it made them complacent, while Bakugo’s ego was bound to get in the way of any concession. However, Todoroki’s reply was not the result of a calculation, but mere reflex.

“HAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! YEEEHAHAHAHAHAHHASSSS!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAAA!!!”

“He needs to say it too,” hummed Hawks, nodding his head toward Bakugo while his fingers picked up the pace.

Bakugo too was operating on reflex alone, and his instincts were inimical to their predicament.

“GHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! EHEHEHEHHAT SHHAHHAHAHAAHHAAHT!!! FUUHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAHAHACCCK!!!!”

“You hear that, Todoroki? My hands are tied. Well, yours are. And your feet too. Which makes it so easy for me to do this,” he explained as the feathers also began to move faster and the motions of his hands grew more unpredictable.

Todoroki all but howled. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! BAHAHAHAHAHAAHKUUUUGOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASEEE!!!”

“SHIHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAATTTTT!!! FUHAHAHAHAHAHAHCKIHIHING TRAHAHAHAHAHITAHAHAHAHHAAR!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

“Listen to your friend. Help him help you.” His nails moved to the ball of Bakugo’s right foot, the feathers instantly moving to compensate.

Bakugo arched his back with such force the stocks creaked. “GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAH!!! SHIHIHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTTT!!!! STAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAPP! YOOOHUHU GOOHAHAHAHAHAHTTTTAAAAA STOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!”

“I don’t gotta do anything. Say it. I’m a man of my word.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!”

“Suit yourself. I’ll try again in 10 more minutes.”

The horror in their teary eyes and strained laughter was instantly apparent.

“SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAAT!!! YEEEEEEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSSSS!!! YOHAHAHAHAH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHHAHHAHAREEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! GHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! STAHAHAHAHHAHAHAP STAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAPPP!!!”

And Hawks did. He stepped away from them while the feathers floated to a safer distance.

The trainees heaved and panted, their lungs burning and their throats parched, Bakugo slumped backwards, Todoroki forward as if he was collapsing in on himself.

“This is pathetic. The whole thing,” remarked Dabi.

Hawks shrugged. “I don’t enjoy needless violence. And pathetic or not, it seems to be working wonders.”

“If - no, when you fail and Shigaraki hears this is how you’ve been wasting our time…”

“I won't fail. Just look at them,” claimed Hawks, though one corner of his smile was frozen. He clapped his hands, addressing the flushed heroes again. “Now, listen close. I’m going to start tickling you again soon.”

Bakugo winced and shot a feeble glare at hawks, a pitiful attempt to disguise fear as intimidation, while Todoroki’s shoulders slumped as he prepared himself for the inevitable.

“That’s the stick. Now, here’s the carrot. I’ll stop tickling whichever of you gives me the code. The other gets these,” he announced as he began to rummage in his costume, a ruse to give both trainees time to focus on him once again and grew more apprehensive.

He then pulled out two mundane items: a fork, and Bakugo’s orange hairbrush.

“I got these while I was waiting for Dabi,” he said, moving the two items slightly, the trainees’ eyes following them with wariness. Too easy.

“The one who spills the beans doesn’t have to find out how much they tickle. The other…”

He put the two tools back inside his utility belt.

“Anyone got anything to say?”

Bakugo and Todoroki looked at each other. Todoroki looked like he’d been running for an hour, endurance having never been his strong suit, but Bakugo begin to wonder whether he would actually cave. There was something in the half-and-half hero’s stare, some kind of request maybe. He couldn’t be about to come clean, could he? Or… was he trying to encourage him to resist?

The thought made Bakugo’s blood boil even though a rivulet of sweat already drenched the back of his costume. Did Todoroki really think that he might call it quits? That he was that weak?

But Bakugo didn’t have the energy to fight, so he just averted his gaze, fixing it on the stocks on the other side of which were his all too tender feet and useless hands.

Hawks tutted. “Too bad. Hawks, would you set a 10-minute timer? We’re getting serious now.”

He didn’t give the trainees time to brace themselves before striking.

His fingers got to work on the same spots as before, though he targeted Todoroki’s right foot rather than his left, and the sixteen feathers he’d been using on each trainee struck at every vulnerable part of that same foot as two horrifying new implements joined the interrogation: Hawks’s wings.

Todoroki shrieked. The amalgamation of feathers which Hawks could animate at will was an ebullient blanket of ticklishness, the plumes coming alive to tease the entirety of Todoroki’s sole in an all-encompassing attack that effortlessly reached between his toes and the sides and even the top of his foot as well. Hundreds or thousands of feathers, exponentially more barbs, and Todoroki could feel them all.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Hawks had threatened the trainees with the hairbrush and fork, but he knew his wing would be just as if not more devastating to the criminal No. 1’s son. He also stiffened the feathers of his left wing since Bakugo was not as sensitive to light touches, and he lacked the bandwidth to remotely control any more feathers without sacrificing accuracy…

Which is why, not even a minute in, the hawk turned 90° and swished at Todoroki’s soles with both wings, while both of his talons pounced on the balls of Bakugo’s feet.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! YOU FUHAHAHAHAHHAHACKHEHEHHEHR THAHAHAHAT’S UNFAAFAFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Bakugo’s unprecedented cackling was met with Todoroki falling into a choked silence. Sensory overload.

Not even that was able to shut Bakugo up, but the dedicated fingers, accompanied by the sixteen that had been hounding him for a while plus the extra sixteen that migrated over from Todoroki, melted his protests into desperate incoherence, about half the quills matching the movements of Hawks’s fingers to crowd his weakest spots as much as possible.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOOOOOOOHUHUHUHUHU!!!! SHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-- I CAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

Despite what he’d told Dabi, Hawks couldn’t believe how well the two trainees were responding. He was relieved that this harmless method might actually buy him enough time. He just hoped--

Todoroki’s own laughter returned as a whine, which only served to remind Hawks to divide his attention more equally between the two of them. Though by virtue of being the only one he could see from his position, Bakugo was bound to get the shorter end of the stick. He could stand to be taken down a peg, Hawks told himself as he looked into the young hero’s bulging, tear-filled eyes, fractured babble interspersing the hysterical peals.

Those eternal ten minutes weren’t simply meant to break them, no. Hawks’s Quirk wasn’t merely about moving his feathers: he could feel through them. He noticed that Todoroki’s left foot was warmer than usual, and his right colder, which gave him an idea; and he also noticed that Bakugo’s feet were getting damper and slicker the more he tickled him, which gave him another. He’d keep them safe from Dabi even if he had to tickle them into unconsciousness to do it.

“Time’s up,” muttered Dabi, more invested than he’d ever admit.

“Is it? Eh, I’ll just keep going,” yelled Hawks to give the trainees a chance to hear him. Todoroki let out something that vaguely sounded like a sob, while Bakugo was too preoccupied with the fingers and feathers to respond.

But when he noticed Dabi getting more impatient, Hawks did finally take a step back and allowed the trainees to breathe. Their chests heaving, their hair weighed down by perspiration, the fight had been tickled out of Bakugo, while Todoroki looked like he was about to pass out from exhaustion.

“You know, I’ve gone about this all wrong,” he announced. “Dabi, I’m going to need your help.”

“Forget it.”

“I need your Quirk.” He pointed his thumb at Bakugo, who made an effort to listen and was rewarded with a shiver. “I need you to keep his feet close to the fire.”

“Finally,” huffed Dabi as he began to stride toward Bakugo, who recoiled in horror.

“You aren’t hurting him. There’s one last thing I want to try,” explained Hawks. “See, I remember that his Quirk is based around sweat, and he seems to keep getting more ticklish over time. So I just need a little bit of heat.”

“You’re joking.”

“They’re about to cave, and I’ll give you all the credit. By the way, I suspect your Quirk would also do wonders on his right side,” he added, pointing at Todoroki this time.

“Unbelievable,” scoffed Dabi. Yet, sure enough, two small blue flames appeared in his palms. Bakugo winced.

“Farther,” commanded Hawks. Dabi rolled his eyes, but complied again.

It was warm, very warm, but not painful. Bakugo had followed a word in three, but he knew he shouldn’t be too happy about the heat displacing the phantom tickles that still tormented his soles.

“Now, where was I? Right. I’ve gone about this all wrong, because there’s two of you, and one code. I’ve been splitting my attention, but I only need to break one of you. So…”

He rested a hand on the top of Todoroki’s shoulder, the exhausted hero regarding him with… Bakugo hadn’t expected it, but there were embers of defiance left in Todoroki’s alarmed scowl.

“I’m going to focus on you, and only you, until one of you fesses up or, frankly, you pass out. Would be a first, but I kind of want to see that. And if that happens, luckily we have a spare.”

“You’re not… going to get… away with this,” panted Todoroki. Bakugo had definitely underestimated him.

Hawks gave him an empty smile. “You’d better hope I do, ‘cause if I don’t, Dabi gets to have fun with you, and he likes his meat well done.”

He clapped a hand on Todoroki’s back, who recoiled under his touch. “If you’re worried about saving face, maybe your friend will speak up for you. He looks like the empathetic kind,” jested Hawks.

Todoroki glanced at Bakugo, currently in the process of glaring at Dabi. He took a deep breath to brace himself.

Hawks walked around him, a solid half of each wing detaching itself and floating to the other side of the stocks. “Last chance,” he whispered in Todoroki’s ear.

“Drop dead,” spat Todoroki.

So Hawks struck. Not with the feathers, however. No, while Todoroki was distracted by the wings positioning themselves right in front of his feet, the tips of the feathers already grazing his soles, Hawks’s hands slipped under Todoroki’s jacket and find purchase in the skin of his sides underneath.

Bakugo saw a look of utter bewilderment cross Todoroki’s face before hysteria overwrote his features completely.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHHAHAT’S NOHOHOT… OH MY HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THAHAHAHAHAT’S NOHOHOOOOHOHOT FAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAIIIRR!!!” he screamed, accidentally echoing Bakugo.

“I thought I remembered this!” said a self-satisfied Hawks. “Two for two, uh? Man, did the doctors just take the two most ticklish halves of you and glued them together?” he teased as his fingers kept kneading into Todoroki’s swimmer-like flanks, the thumb pressing deep into the soft tissue and discovering the muscle underneath that stretched all the way to his toned stomach.

“GHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHPPP!!! EHEHEHEHENOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHGHHH!!!”

He squirmed in his seat with newfound vigor, though he wasn’t getting away from Hawks’s prying fingers, sometimes digging hard into his sides, sometimes gently brushing his nails up and down. He leaned so hard to the left that for a moment Bakugo worried he might dislodge his shoulder.

“Look at you trying to squirm away,” cooed Hawks. “Is it because your right side is more sensitive? I think it is. Let’s see if I can find another jackpot up here on the left side,” he continued as he began clawing at the left side of Todoroki’s stomach ,who sucked it in and remained breathless for a moment, but just a moment before laughter poured out again.

“Umh, maybe a bit better, but not a homerun… How about here?”

He spidered his fingers up and down the trainee’s ribcage, a view that despite being partially concealed by Todoroki’s jacket, which rode up to show the lower part of his stomach, caused Bakugo to instinctively lean forward to shield his own ribs with his elbows.

Todoroki’s laughter was still positively frantic as Hawks’s other hand never left his right side, but he didn’t seem satisfied. “Maybe here?” he ventured as he pushed his fingers further up, squeezing his way into Todoroki’s damp underarm.

The trainee recoiled.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAHAAHT THHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHRRREEEEE!!! TOOOOOOHOHOHOH!!! GHAHAHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!”

“And here it is!” gloated Hawks, Todoroki trying to clamp down his arms and only succeeding in trapping the offending fingers where he really didn’t want them.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHAAHAHHAAHHAHAHAAHA!!!”

“That’s close enough, I’d say!”

“You’ll pay for this,” hissed Bakugo, undeterred by the heat that lapped at his soles, making them more sensitive by the minute.

Without looking away from his handiwork, Hawks retorted, “You should worry about you, because I think he’s about to get smart.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! IIIIIIIIIIII WOOOHOHOHOHN’T TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHHEHEHEHLLL!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEEEE!!!”

“What use is begging? You know what I want. Or maybe you’re asking for more?”

“GHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH PLEEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHSE PLEEEEHAHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE!!!”

“I have been neglecting your feet, that’s true. I think they’re feeling lonely.”

“NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! NOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHT THEHEHEHEHEHEHRE TOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!”

“Well, they shall cry no longer! Here I gooo!” exclaimed Hawks as his severed wings fully enveloped Todoroki’s feet.

Bakugo saw Todoroki whip his head to the sky, a lunatic grin frozen on his face, eyes bulging and dripping with tears, and gently swaying back and forth in that position without even being able to make a single sound.

Insane. He looked insane. Driven to insanity by fingers and a bunch of feathers. Bakugo couldn’t believe it. He even considered giving them the code for a fleeting moment out of concern for his… classmate. But he couldn’t, Todoroki wouldn’t have wanted him to either.

But even deeper at the back of his mind, there was a reminder, a reminder that if Todoroki passed out, or that if he confessed, then Bakugo would be next.

Dabi was also staring unabashedly. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Something that childish, tearing down Endeavor’s heir like that. His fingers itched.

Todoroki wasn’t even aware of the fingers tormenting his upper body or the feathers that had taken total hold of his feet. It was as if the sensation had seeped deep into his core, and from there had radiated outward, breaking down his sense of self and severing his mind from his body to keep it afloat in an ocean of overwhelming giddiness. Later, he wouldn’t even recall whether he’d laughed in the end or not.

He just remembered his consciousness resurfacing at one point, and uttering the six fabled digits as if in a dream.

“NO!!” screeched a costernated Bakugo.

“Thank you kindly,” said Hawks as he stepped away from Todoroki and called back his feathers. “Way to confirm the code, by the way,” he told Bakugo.

But as he was making his way toward the exit…

“Wait.”

Dabi was holding up his burner phone. “It’s not time for our meet-up yet. And I seem to recall you’re a man of his word,” he said, eyeing Bakugo.

Hawks stopped. “I am,” he conceded as he walked towards Bakugo, whose heart was sinking into his stomach for an additional reason now.

“Don’t you fucking get any closer!” warned Bakugo without anything to back up his threat, his implicit plea.

“Won’t you get bored?” Hawks asked Dabi, ignoring his cursing target.

“I’ll manage. His right side is the ice one, right?” he asked as Dabi stopped between Todoroki and Bakugo, reaching one hand on the other side of the stocks. “I want to see fire and ice mix,” he stated before making his fingers slightly warmer and jolting Todoroki out of his stupor.

But Bakugo was unable to pay him any mind, transfixed by Hawks’s single finger inching closer and closer to his left sole. It curled gently.

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFU--” exploded out of Bakugo, any hope of rebuilding his façade thanks to the break flying out of the window as that one finger made him acutely aware of how much more impossibly sensitive the heat had made him.

Hawks went on scratching delicately, bringing the finger to the center of the ball as Bakugo flailed left and right. He only stopped long enough to retrieve the brush and the fork. “I love being right.”

“GGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!”

No, it couldn’t tickle that much, it just couldn’t. The fork traveled from the bottom of his arch all the way to the base of his toes, then down, then up again. The hairbrush was large enough to perfectly scrub the upper half of Bakugo’s foot, the part that Hawks was naturally focusing on, the two tools gliding harmlessly on the impossibly tender surface thanks to the offshoot of Bakugo’s Quirk.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHA!!! SSSSSSSSSSSSSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!! STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHA!! STASTATSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHAAHHAHA!!!”

“Nah, you had your chance,” said Hawks as he switched the two torture instruments.

Bakugo whipped his head back and forth, if he could he might have banged it on the stocks just to feel something else. And Hawks was unrelenting. Skilled, and unrelenting.

“Weren’t you going to kill me? How are you going to do that? By giggling yourself to death?”

The hard bristles and tines would have scrubbed Bakugo raw if not for his Quirk, but his nerves weren’t any less on fire for it, every ounce of pain having been traded for a different sensation that Bakugo despised even more. But he had no ego left to be bruised, as his entire self was concentrated in his superhumanly sensitive feet, tenderized by the Quirk he was so proud of.

“Now this is an explosion! Oh, you think I’m moving away from the ball? Right where it tickles the most? Oh no no no! I’ll just tickle everywhere else to!”

The part of Bakugo that realized what was about to happen clawed its way to the surface. “NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAH! NONONONONOHHHHHH!!!! PLEASESTOPPLEAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHSEE!!!”

But the myriad quills that descended on every part of his soles not ravaged by the hellish tools didn’t heed his final plea.

With one last boom of maddened laughter, Bakugo was thrust into the same pit that he’d watched Todoroki sink into, utterly, thoroughly destroyed, drooling, crying, but unable to string enough sounds together to grovel.

Humiliation, embarrassment, disappointment were fictions that had been shattered, as the tickling cut to something primal, genuine within him. Who knew that tickling his feet really hard was the key.

“GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! GGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHA!!!”

At some point, Bakugo felt himself float up toward the harsh neon light overhead, gurgling nonsense as the room faded back into focus.

“...ease… nno… moohore…”

But Hawks was already on the threshold, with Dabi having already left the room. Bakugo’s head lolled to the side, allowing him to encounter Todoroki’s dim, concerned gaze.

“Thank you boys!” said Hawks cheerfully. “Someone will come pick you up soon. Pleasure doing business with you!”

He slammed the door behind him, leaving the two tickle-drunk trainees in the room alone.

As his circumstances flooded back to the forefront, Todoroki’s concern pissed him off. “How–” his voice cracked. Water. “How could you?!” He wasn’t quite sure if he was referring to the code, or to what Hawks had put him through after.

Todoroki didn’t respond, but looked at the door. “Ssh.”

He’d… shushed him? That guy had shushed him–

Bakugo’s eyes bulged out of his sockets when he saw Todoroki lift the upper portion of the stocks and slide his sore wrists and ankles out. To safety, to freedom.

Bakugo forgot everything he wanted to yell. “How… When…?!”

“Hawks did it,” whispered Todoroki as he stretched his sore limbs. Bakugo tried to lift his own stocks, and lo and behold, they opened. There was a feather in the lock, which Todoroki grabbed.

Bakugo’s shock was plain on his expression, his smile muscles stiff.

“Didn’t you notice… what Hawks was writing… with his feathers?” asked Todoroki. He took a deep breath as he shuffled towards the door. “He’s on our side. He wants… us to escape and… tell the agency… to change the code.”

Bakugo was still incredulous as the hallway opened up before him.

“Come on,” said Todoroki as he started out of the room.

Bakugo followed him, to be sure. But he was thinking. He hadn’t noticed anything. And if Todoroki knew all along, how much of it had been an act? And if he had put up a show for their captors, so he could convincingly give up the code later… did he think that Bakugo was weak?

Bakugo grunted. Todoroki shot him a puzzled look, but didn’t stop.

He couldn’t allow the half and half bastard to think of him that way. To feel superior. He had to show him who was really the most ticklish.

#mha tickle #tickle content #bnha tickle #tickletorture #tickle fic #ticklish!bakugo #ticklish!bakugou #lee!bakugo #lee!bakugou #ticklish!todoroki #lee!todoroki #ler!hawks #ler!dabi

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 8 months

Text

hey so it's exactly 10 days after what i added to @cherrychapsticksteve's post, and it hasn't left my brain SO! Murphy, this is for you. i hope enjoy this full version!!!

pairing: steddie | word count: 7,536 | rated: T

-🎸-

Eddie's chest heaves as he sprints farther into the woods.

It’s not the first (and certainly won’t be the last) time he runs from Hawkins’ finest. This time, Hopper and Callahan had busted him after he ran a stop sign (it wasn’t his fault, okay? He had to change the tape and didn’t see the sign or the patrol car stopped at the damn cross street).

The ‘failure to obey traffic signs’ was the least of his problems though, not after his damn lunchbox dropped out of the van when they asked demanded he “Take a step out here, Munson.”, and the last crumbs of the stock he’d gotten from Rick the week before last spilling out at Hopper’s feet.

They get him in cuffs, of course, but the second they turn their backs on him, he fucking books it.

Hands cuffed behind him, wallet chain jangling around his hip in time with the zipper of his jacket hitting the lowest button of his vest, both officers are wheezing way too soon after he starts playing getaway. He twists and spins out of the way of their grasps, but Callahan gets a second wind and nearly catches him, so he bolts; Tears off past his van and into the woods.

He's got some sense of where he's going, they busted him on Cornwallis and it should be a clear cut through the forest past Loch Nora and to the park, but it's even darker as he gets under the treeline. The fading twilight blocked out by the canopy above him.

Still, he took off into the woods on the west side of the street so as long as he keeps going straight, he'll be fine.

Joke's on him though, nothing about him has been straight since before he came to live with Wayne (since he was born if what his science teacher Mr. Clarke once told him is to be believed), so it's no fuckin' wonder that he's gotten off course.

He dismisses it at first, the gradual incline he's following at more of a jog than a sprint now, but when he hears sirens go off way too close and he finds himself crashing into a meticulously trimmed backyard, it makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is why of all the gallivanting through the woods he'd just done, over and under fallen logs, rocks, through bushes and thickets, that his feet betray him on the half inch concrete lip of patio he hadn't yet slowed himself enough to avoid altogether.

The toe of his sneaker clips the very corner, his feet try to right themselves, but he's already hurtling toward this person's inground pool.

In the split second he's falling, Eddie's brain does three things almost simultaneously: 1) realizes that whoever's house this is, there's only one light on. an upstairs window that must be a bedroom. Good. Maybe then he can pick himself up after this what-would-have-been super embarrassing fall and get the fuck back out of their yard without them noticing.

2) It has enough sense to turn his body to the left to take the fall onto the concrete on his shoulder instead of his face, though it means he'll definitely be rolling into the pool now. Damn.

And 3) a simple thought of 'Aw, fuck.'

What his brain didn't account for was the edge of the pool. And that it should have considered its boney housing's downward momentum in the fall.

His temple collides with the edge where plastic meets stone, and Eddie Munson, freshly concussed and all but dead to the world, falls into the water.

-🍦-

The night Steve Harrington officially meets Eddie Munson is like every other.

At home, alone, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to go to bed.

He’s leaning his desk chair back on two legs, his feet propped up on his mattress, flipping through the new June '85 edition of Vogue that came in the mail that day addressed to Linda Harrington.

Halfway through reading about Eric Stoltz in that new movie Mask (and seriously debating somehow guilting his parents into sending him one of these watches for a late graduation gift because shit that's a nice watch), he hears a splash from outside his window.

The sound makes him jump from how unexpected it is, and he would've for sure tumbled ass backwards off his chair if the wall hadn't been behind him.

He jumps up and yanks open his blinds to look out at the pool below.

There are fresh ripples weaving across the normally still top, and a shadow of something bubbling up from the bottom.

His guts twist up immediately; of course, it could be just some stupid deer, but it could also be any number of insane hell creatures, one of which had once used his pool as it's front door before.

"Shitshitshitshit," Steve snatches up his bat from under the bed and launches himself out his room and down the stairs in record time.

By the time he gets to the edge of the pool, the ripples have dispersed significantly, and the..whatever it is.. at the bottom is releasing bubbles slower than ever.

It takes about a second more for him to parse out the very obviously human shape crumpled under the water and--is that blood?

Steve dives into the water directly across from the bright red smear on the plastic lining.

His eyes burn with the chemicals, all he makes out of the person is a pale face and dark hair.

He hooks an arm under theirs and across their chest, and pushes up from the bottom.

Steve finds a foothold in the shallows and powers over to the stairs as fast as he can, pulling the limp man up onto the concrete.

He gets to work on them immediately, checking for a pulse, checking for breath..nothing.

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!" Steve starts compressions on his chest, counting in his head before sucking in a deep breath, pinching the guy’s nose shut, and sealing his mouth onto the blue lips below him.

Nothing.

"C'mon Munson," Steve starts counting compressions again. "Don't do this to me, man." It surprises him that this is when his brain pairs the pale features and dark denim to Hawkins' Super-Senior, but it's him alright. The vest is a giveaway, though he definitely looks like a completely different person without his bangs hanging over his forehead, or that dumbass grin he has when he's going on some tirade at lunch.

Steve closes his lips over Eddie's once again and this time, it works.

Eddie pitches forward, spewing chunky water all over the ground in front of him.

Steve supports his back as he does, "Shit, man, let it out, let it out." He looks down then, finally realizing Eddie's arms have been completely incapacitated by a pair of cuffs this whole time.

His breaths are ragged, gagging while he takes in shaky breaths.

He continues to pat Eddie's back, smacking his palm over some demon-looking thing on the back panel of his vest.

"Breathe, Eddie, you got it." The older boy's dazed gaze turns to him then, "You back with me?"

"Harrington?" it comes out a wheeze.

“Hey Munson, you okay?”

Eddie looks around at Steve’s yard, to the pool, “Yeah I—Yeah..” he looks back at Steve, “What happened?”

“You fell into my pool, dude.” he chuckles, “I pulled you out and you weren’t breathing.”

“…huh.”

That pulls another snort out of him. “Yeah, ‘Huh.’.”

Eddie looks off into the woods, then back to his face. “And what happened before that?”

Steve pulls lightly on the cuffs. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“I don’t–I don’t know what..” he glances around, panicked, “I don’t know why I’m in cuffs, I–”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay man. You’re okay.” Steve rubs gently over the same spot he’d been patting, “Let’s get you inside, alright? Get some food maybe?”

Eddie takes a couple more breaths then nods, “Yeah…yeah okay, Harrington.”

He leads Eddie inside after he’s calmed down a bit more, sitting him down on one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and dashing quickly to the laundry room off the kitchen for a towel.

"Eddie, hey, y'gotta stay awake." he says, wrapping him up and giving him a light shake, "I'm gonna make you something to eat soon, but I wanna get you outta your cuffs first. Can you tell me how to get them off?"

"Yea-yeah," Eddie smacks his lips dryly, thinking hard, "Do you have a bobby pin?"

Steve studies him while he quickly searches his brain for where the last time he might've seen one. He's still dazed, still out of it (which is fair, honestly, he almost died after all), and is starting to shiver despite the towel.

He goes to the sink and pours a glass of water. "I think my mom has some. Let me help you drink some of this, and we’ll get you upstairs, okay?" he says, turning back to Eddie and keeping his voice soft, as if he'd scare him off if he spoke any louder.

Eddie's face scrunches in confusion, so he continues, "I’ll get you out of those cuffs and into the shower so you can warm up."

He watches Eddie’s expression morph as he registers what was said to him. His eyes go hooded, his cheeks tinge pink, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Y'wanna get me naked, big boy?"

Steve rolls his eyes, his own cheeks prickling with heat. Eddie's hot okay? Objectively. He doesn't have to be into guys to know that. And flirting is flirting. Sue him. "Shut up man," he laughs.

He holds the glass to Eddie’s lips and lets him drink as much as he wants, then sets the glass down on the table. He pulls gently on Eddie’s bicep, hooking an arm around the other man's waist, under an arm, and when he finally feels like he's got a good enough hold on him, they head to the steps.

They make their way up the stairs slowly, Eddie mumbling to himself the whole way. Steve hears a grumbled "Naked..", something that sounds like "..Gotta be dreamin',", and his own name, drawn out as if in disbelief "Steeeve Harrington...".

Finally, they make it to the master bedroom and Steve deposits Eddie on the edge of the bed. He immediately falls over onto his right side.

"Ow! Shit.. that fuckin' sucks."

"Your shoulder?" Steve asks, grabbing up a pin from his mother's vanity and turning back to the still damp man on the bed.

"Yeah, I–I must've fallen onto it before I went in." Eddie reasons, "Also, my head hurts."

"I bet," Steve nods, climbing up behind Eddie, "Now, you gotta tell me what to do here, man." he turns the cuffs slightly where he can see the little keyhole. "I've never picked the lock on a pair of cuffs."

"Ya don't say..'' he drawls sarcastically, "Just put the pin in my hand and I'll do it.”

Steve watches Eddie's fingers fiddle with the bobby pin; twisting it every which way while he feels out which side is which, which end of it he wants, prying it open with only a couple fingers, twisting into his hair, the pads of them ghosting along his lips, how they might feel opening him u--

Steve jumps up off the bed, causing Eddie to complain about the movement fucking up his concentration or something.

He ignores him, heading into the ensuite to start the shower.

Holy shit.

What in the actual fuck was that? He shakes his head, hard, willing his brain not to think those thoughts again. He is not gay or anything, everyone has thoughts like that sometimes. Tommy said so.

After starting the water and grabbing a new towel from under the counter, Steve takes a breath and steps back out into the bedroom.

He lets the breath out in relief when he sees Eddie's hands separate from the other, one palm pressed to the left side of his face and his other hanging loosely in front of him off the edge of the bed.

His soggy white Reeboks have also joined him on the bed, feet dangerously close to the pillow.

"Up n’ at 'em, Munson, gotta get you cleaned up." Steve calls, relishing briefly in making Eddie jump in surprise. "Can you get up on your own?"

Eddie groans, but slowly lets his feet drop back down to the floor.

Steve is back on Eddie's side of the bed before he's upright, offering a hand.

His open palm is puzzled at for a few long seconds, then Eddie places his hand in Steve's.

"Okay, up we go," he pulls Eddie to his feet, singing his arm around the other man's waist again and pulling Eddie's arm over his shoulders.

"Dizzy." Eddie complains.

"I know, I know," he soothes in return, "It's this way."

They shuffle into the bathroom and Steve lowers Eddie onto the closed lid of the toilet.

"We gotta get you out of your wet clothes, okay Eds?" The nickname slips through his teeth, but Eddie doesn't seem to mind it, nodding slowly.

Steve kneels in front of him, "Shoes first. Can you get your jacket and vest off for me?"

“Pushy, pushy,” Eddie teases, starting to pull his jacket off, “You really wanna get me naked, don’t you.”

“Oh yeah. I am just itching for ‘pale, scrawny asshole’.” Steve deadpans in return, unlacing Eddie’s sopping sneakers and placing them in front of the counter.

“Oh now you wanna see my asshole? Buy a guy dinner first, Stevie.”

Steve tries to ignore the soupy feeling in his stomach at the nickname. It’s not even a new one, Tommy’s called him that before too and it never made his guts all squirmy like this.

It’s gotta just be because he and Eddie aren’t friends like he and Tommy had been.

That’s all.

But that’s not all, is it? His brain betrays him again, taking only half a second to imagine going on a date with Eddie, taking him to dinner, a movie, whatever. Taking him home, giving him a kiss goodnight.

The scenario is imagined, but the swirling feeling in his stomach is all too real.

He’s felt this before, the nerves and excitement of taking out a girl he really likes, getting to talk to her, get to know her, the possibility of getting to kiss her (and maybe more) at the end of the night.

But now it’s Eddie Fucking Munson that his gut’s all soupy for. Does he like Eddie? Does he want to Date him?

Steve feels his face heat up, his knees feel wobbly despite being on stable ground, his stomach erupts in butterflies—aw fuck. He likes Eddie.

“Be careful with this, Harrington, It’s worth more than you’ll ever know.” Miraculously, Eddie managed to get his jacket off with the vest still wrapped around it. He passes the bundle gingerly over to Steve, like it's breakable.

He looks down at the crumpled clothing in his hands; he can see a couple patches that are hand-sewn into the denim, a broken zipper on one of the sleeves of Eddie’s jacket that has been pinned shut, a single button worn shinier than the rest. He believes him.

“I’ll take care of it, promise.” Steve says, placing the bundle up next to the sink gently. “Now, do you need help with the rest?”

Eddie immediately looks like he’s going to say no, but he seems to think better of it. “Uhm, can you help with these?”, he pats his legs, “I’d do it myself, but they’re gonna be a bitch to get off since they’re all wet and I’m still dizzy and don’t really want to bend over to pull off the bottoms but–y’know what just forget it, I’ll—”

Steve interrupts his rambling, “Eddie, it’s fine! I offered, didn't I? Help me out?” he gestures to Eddie’s zipper with his chin and starts to pull at the legs of Eddie’s skinny jeans. “I don’t get it man, why squeeze into these–”

The jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle pulls his focus, his eyes darting up to catch a flash of the buckle being undone. He averts his eyes, but a split second later, his brain registers what he’d seen and his gaze snaps back to it.

“Handcuff buckle? Really?”

“Don’t diss the buckle, Stevie,” Eddie chides, working the buckle loose. It continues to jingle as he works at it.

“How good of a buckle can it be if you can’t even get it undone?” Steve says, getting the second leg of Eddie’s jeans pulled down under his heel.

“It keeps me virtuous.” Eddie grits out, then huffs out a “Finally..” as the mini handcuffs fall open.

It was a bad moment to be done with what he was doing. Because Steve looks up just as Eddie unbuttons his fly and pulls the zipper down.

Steve shoots up off the floor, “Need some help standing up?” He asks, trying to cover for his minor freak-out. Eddie didn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself up, “Don’t let me fall okay? I’m still feelin’ kinda…loopy.”

“Sure, man.”

So Steve stands there, gaze averted politely, as Eddie shimmies his jeans off and pulls his shirt off over his head.

He leaves him to it after that, pointing out the shampoo and soap, where he’d hung the new towel for him, and escapes to go find Eddie some new clothes.

He fishes a pair of black sweats out from one of his drawers, a pair that had been too small for him since sophomore year, and a plain black undershirt. He grabs up his personal favorite hoodie too, a Hawkins High Swim one, and a pair of thick fuzzy Christmas socks Mrs. Henderson had given him this past year.

After agonizing over whether or not to grab a pair of boxers too (he does, a new pair from the back of his top drawer), Steve wanders back into the master bathroom and deposits the pile on Eddie’s vacated seat.

The frosted glass door and added steam cloud Eddie’s form, but Steve can see the vague outline of him, standing just at the edge of where the water must be falling.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie says softly.

It’s after he’s gathered up Eddie’s chlorine scented clothes that he notices, thinking belatedly to grab the discarded towel off the bed on his way back downstairs, but when he turns to grab it, he’s stopped short by a darkening stain puddled up on one end.

Right where Eddie’s head had been.

It all clicks. The smear of blood on the edge of the pool, Eddie’s complaints of his head hurting, of feeling dizzy and lightheaded.. And now Steve’s left him standing on his own in a hot-ass shower?!

He’s not sure how he heard it, but there’s a soft “Steve?” called out from the bathroom before a loud thump echoes out into the bedroom.

-🎸-

At first, the shower felt fan-fucking-tastic, but not long after stepping under the hot, wonderfully pressured stream, he’d started feeling (even) more light headed.

He takes a deep breath, and leans on one hand at the back of the shower out of the spray while his head clears enough.

Operating in much the same way through the rest of the shower, he scrubs himself down, washing the chlorine from his skin and hair, wincing slightly when he stretches his shoulder the wrong way and when he scrubs over his right temple. There’s a knot there. Great.

He continues through the motions, taking as deep of breaths as he can, but rinsing the shampoo out of his hair is what does it. His arm stretched up, the more concentrated steam, the tilting back of his head…he bobbles forward out of the stream, hand on the wall again.

Where the hell is Steve? He’s gotta get out of here, gotta turn off the shower..somehow? Eddie’s vision blurs. Fuck.

“I’m gonna start a quick load of laundry with your things, okay? I left you some stuff on the toilet.” Steve says, back in the room as if summoned by Eddie’s desperate thoughts.

‘C’mon coward, ask him for help! He’s right outside the door!’

“‘Kay.”

‘No! Damnit!’ He’ll be fine, he just needs to breathe again, needs to sit down..

“Steve?”

Then he’s out (again).

When he comes to (again), he’s back on the bed, under the covers, and still kinda damp. And dressed.

“What the fuck?”

The bedroom door opens then, and he tries to sit up. Shit, why is he so sore?

He blinks away the fuzziness in his eyes only to see Steve goddamn Harrington hovering over him.

Steve pushes him back down onto the pillows. “Oh no nono you don’t. You stay right there.” he chastises.

“What the fuck, what happe—” The memories of the last couple hours roll over him all at once, along with heavy mortification that presses him further into the pillows. He covers his face with his hands, “Jesus H. Christ..did I pass out in the shower?”

“I’m sorry Eddie,”

“Sorry for what? That I’m a klutz?” he mumbles out from under his palms. “Don’t think that’s your fault, Harrington.”

“You’re not a klutz, dumbass, but you do probably have a concussion…” Steve snarks back, and Eddie feels the mattress sink beside him, “Though I don’t know, maybe you always pass out in the shower?”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. He scrubs his face a couple more times, then drops his hands “Only in the showers of my own personal saviors.”

He swears Steve’s face tinges pink at that, “Well aren’t I a lucky guy.”

“Well, seeing as how I’m dressed, and last time I remember, I wasn’t..” Steve’s face is blazing red now. “I think you must be, if you got a look at the goods.”

He waggles his eyebrows teasingly when Steve glances up at him, “Shut up man, I didn’t look at your junk any more than I had to.”

Eddie sputters at that, “How much looking is in your definition of ‘had to’?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “You passed out in my shower man, I had to get you out didn’t I? And I’m not about to leave you cold and wet so..I wrapped you up in a towel and got you up here.” he gestures to the bed, “Got you dressed and under the covers so you could sleep somewhat comfy while I made you something to eat.”

Eddie continues to eye him suspiciously, “So you got into my pants and then got them on me? That seems backwards…and sounds kinda fishy, Steven.”

“Oh my god..” Steve throws his head back in exasperation and scrubs his own face with his hands. “I got your pants on while you were still wrapped up in the towel, asshole, now do you want something to eat or not?”

“Wow…the kiss of life, a personal scrubdown (“I didn’t scrub you down!”), and now I get breakfast in bed? If I’m dreamin’, don’t wake me up.”

“Your dreams include getting concussed and passing out?”

Eddie shrugs, “To be fair, there’s usually less clothes and more making out, but I’m holding out hope.” He waggles his eyebrows again and Steve’s face flushes red, scoffing lightly

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He feigns being shot in the chest, hamming it up and falling limp further into the pillows, “You wound me Steven, am I to be laid up for the rest of my days? Does his royal highness not believe in true love’s kiss?”

“I’ve already kissed you once, dumbass, Is that not enough for you?”

“It musn’t be, for my head and heart still ache!” he continues to bemoan, flailing a hand to his forehead. He’s honestly not quite sure why he’s still keeping up with the bit, painfully straight jocks like Steve don’t normally take well to his dramatics, and he’s not keen on getting punched right now.

But Steve doesn’t punch him. He laughs.

He laughs and says “How ‘bout you eat something first, and if your head and heart still ache after that, I’ll give you a smooch.” Steve says, standing from the edge of the bed.

Eddie gawks at him, but allows himself to be helped up after his stomach growls loudly not a second later.

Steve walks down the stairs in front of him half-sideways in case he decides to pass out again, then helps him up onto a stool at the Harrington’s long kitchen island.

“I made eggs and toast, but I can get you something else if you like?”

Eddie’s stomach rolls at the thought of eggs, “Just toast, thanks.”

Steve nods, and passes over a plate with plain buttered toast stacked at least a half a loaf tall and a new glass of water. He takes a slice gratefully and munches on it slowly.

Suddenly, something clicks. “Wait, rewind, concussed? You think I might have a concussion?”

“You hit your head didn’t you?” he asks, rounding the counter with a plate of his own and perching on the stool next to him.

“Well yeah, but concussion?”

Steve shrugs, “I mean, I’m not 100 percent sure, but you definitely hit it pretty hard,” he gently pushes the hairs of Eddie’s right temple up and back, touching the fingers of his other hand to the knot he’d felt in the shower earlier.

“Sorry,” he says when Eddie winces, “There was a cut there too, but it wasn’t that deep so I cleaned it up and used a couple butterfly strips on it. Definitely looked worse than it was, but you said you didn’t remember what happened, that your head hurts, you’re dizzy, and I’m guessing the thought of eggs made you nauseous didn’t they?”

Eddie blinks at him once, twice, “I think I have a concussion.”

Steve barks out a laugh, tossing his head back with it. He looks back down at Eddie, still grinning, and time seems to freeze for a long moment.

Steve Harrington’s always been attractive, okay? And Eddie is only a man. The soft swoop of Steve’s hair, messy and flatter than he’s ever seen it in any normal circumstance, but it still looks good, the moles he can see scattered across his neck and arms and legs that Eddie’s always seen a big ol’ ‘KISS HERE’ over each, the relatively new softer smile he’d seen after Hargrove showed up and King Steve was tossed from his throne..

Eddie’s been so gone on Steve for so long already, and now he’s literally saved his life.

He never thought he’d ever want to be the damsel in distress, but now is, and he’s here, and Steve Harrington is his knight in shining armor.

It’s not just the possible concussion making his head swirl.

“Thanks, Steve.” he says, coming back to the present again–was he always this close? Do not look at his lips, Munson, stay focused. “Never thought this’d be how I’d ever be in your house though.”

Steve’s eyes flash to somewhere below his nose (‘Wait.. did he just–’), then he takes his hand away, dropping it back to his lap from where it was all but wrapped around the back of his skull. He didn’t even register that Steve was still holding him (‘Fuck!’).

“How d’ya think you’d ever be here then?” he asks, taking a large bite of runny egg.

“Oh y’know me, peddler of wares for any manner of frivolities my liege may hold.” He attempts to give Steve a bow, but gets dizzy almost as soon as his head tips forward.

Steve’s hands reach out to steady him, but drop when Eddie sits back up. “Yeah I didn’t get any of that.”

“Party favors, Steve-o, pills, ganja..all that fun stuff.” Eddie continues on at Steve’s understanding expression, “That’s what got me cuffed earlier.”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

“For the most part. They wouldn’t’ve even pulled me over if my tape hadn’t ended. I was trying to swap it out and ran a stop sign.”

Steve snorts, “What, did you try to bribe them with drugs?”

“I wish; that'd’ve been a much better story,” Eddie laughs, taking another bite of toast, “My stash fell out at Hopper’s feet when I got outta the van.”

Steve winces, “Bad break, dude. So what, you just decided to run? Why not before they cuffed you?”

“I dunno, man, I just bolted into the trees. Those old men couldn’t’ve caught me if they tried.”

“So you got pulled over, got cuffed for having drugs in your car, evaded capture by running through the woods in the dark, fell into my pool shoulder first,”

“Well I rolled into it, actually. I tripped on your patio, couldn’t catch myself on my hands, obviously, so I fell onto my shoulder first and kinda skidded slash rolled into the pool. Must’ve hit my head then too.”

Steve winces again, “That’s why the “Sorry” earlier.. I saw that blood on the lining and I didn’t even check where you could be bleeding.” He shakes his head in disappointment, “I shouldn’t’ve put you into the shower like that, it’s not good for you. And I know my way around a head injury.” Steve mutters.

“Sportsball will do that to you.” Eddie nods, grabbing a second slice of toast.

“It wasn’t basket–” he sighs, “Nevermind, is there someone you need to call or anything?”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. “Trying to be rid of me already, Harrington?”

Steve waves him off, “Nah. Your clothes are still in the dryer.” he says, standing up and passing around the island to the far counter where a phone book lays open. He picks it up and brings it back to Eddie, “I looked up Munson in case someone would be wondering where you are, but the only Munson here didn’t answer. A Wayne Munson?”

“My uncle,” Eddie explains, “He wouldn’t, not at this time of day. He’s already at the plant for the night.”

“Ah.”

“You can just give me a ride home, we stashed a key on the porch.” he tries to stand, pushing through the dizziness.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, Munson. That’s an order.”

Eddie sinks back into his seat.

“Concussions are tricky, you know; You have to check on the person periodically while they sleep to make sure they’re not getting worse. If there’s not going to be anyone at home with you, you’d better stay here.”

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Eddie gives him a two fingered salute, and relishes in the feeling of making Steve smile again.

-🍦-

It was easier than he thought it'd be to convince Eddie to get back to bed, this time in the guest room across from Steve’s own bedroom.

He’d thought the surprisingly charming weirdo (he was apparently already smitten with) would fight him on it, but he’d followed him back upstairs without complaint after a third slice of toast, though he had gotten a bit woozy about 2/3rds of the way back up.

“What, no smooch? I have to settle for common drugs?” Eddie grumbles as Steve shakes a couple Tylenol into his palm. Steve just rolls his eyes, ignoring him (and the giant swoop of his stomach), “I’ll be up for a little while longer, I have to get your shit outta the dryer and get ready for work tomorrow, so I’ll wake you up before I go to bed and wake you up again in the middle of the night.”

Eddie takes the offered glass of water from him, gulping down the pain meds, “I’m gonna be super grouchy at you, you know.”

Steve smirks at him, “I know, but it’s gotta be done.” He takes back the glass and sets it on the nightstand.

Eddie’d nodded through a long cracking yawn, smiled, then murmured a light “G’night Stevie.” that made Steve’s heart squeeze.

“‘Night Eds, I’ll see ya in a bit.”

Steve, however, did not get to sleep as easily, lying awake in his room after waking Eddie the first time.

He set his watch to wake him in three hours to check on Eddie again, and he’d already wasted a good half of it staring at his ceiling and thinking in circles about everything that had happened, everything he’d felt and thought about the town freak sleeping across the hall.

He’d started with gathering all of it up and trying to cram it away to some corner of his head and leave it there, lock it away from even himself, but to no avail. The…he supposed you could call them feelings...for Eddie had grown much too big already for any one of the lock boxes in the back of his brain.

Then he’d tried to rationalize them again like he had at first. Tommy had told him, very confidently, that everyone has gay thoughts sometimes, it’s normal to realize when a guy is just objectively attractive. To realize you’d totally hit that if you had the chance.

Harrison Ford was the first person Steve’d brought up during that conversation, and Tommy agreed. So that was it, Eddie Munson was just the same as Harrison Ford. He’d definitely sleep with Eddie if there was ever a chance.

And was there? There’d always been rumors about Munson, at least since Steve’d started at Hawkins High, maybe even before, but were they true? How would he even ask that? “Hey Eddie, heard you might be..y’know..into guys and I think I might be too. Do you maybe wanna do something about that? Together?”

Yeah. Not likely.

And Eddie hasn’t looked at him any different than he ever had before, at least not in the handful of times he’s caught the older teen looking at him across the cafeteria or from down the hall.

Should he just..start flirting and hope for the best? What if he doesn’t like it and decks him for it?

Steve scrubs his face again, this is so much easier with girls.

…And that’s another thing, what about girls? He still likes girls. A lot, actually. So is he even allowed to like Eddie? He reasons it’s at least possible to because he does like Eddie. Wants to date him too, but that’s definitely not allowed.

He’s no closer to figuring out what he’s supposed to do when his watch beeps to life again.

Sighing, he throws his covers off, stands up, and sneaks across the hall to Eddie’s room.

“Eddie..hey! Eddie!” Steve whispers, gently shaking him awake. Eddie’s bangs are sticking straight out from his forehead, the rest of his hair fanned out in a mess below his head, his morning breath already starting to form…how can this be so damn attractive?

“Mmm…Hm?” Eddie’s eyes squint against the low light filtering in from the hallway, “Steve?”

“Hey, how are you feeling? Is your head feeling better?”

Eddie sinks back onto his pillow and lets his eyes fall shut again. “Uhm, it hurts, but less than it did earlier.”

“Good, that’s good.” A split moment of bravery comes over him then. “How about your heart?”

“Still aches,” He slurs sleepily in response.

Steve’s bravery and Eddie’s wakefulness fade with each second, so before they’re both gone, Steve leans forward and presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “See you in the morning, Eds.”

-🎸-

When Eddie wakes up the final time the next morning, it’s on his own and from an amazing dream involving an epic battle, injuries, and a healing kiss pressed to his forehead by a soft-haired paladin.

He sits up, already significantly less dizzy than he’d been last night, and chugs down the glass of water Steve must’ve left last time he was up here.

He gets dressed slowly, grabbing his freshly de-chlorinated Iron Maiden tee and trusty black jeans from the neatly folded pile on the nightstand.

He’s wondering where his jacket and vest are when the sweet smell of breakfast hits him, “Oh, fuck yeah,” he says aloud to himself like a loser.

Eddie pulls on his socks, mismatched but bundled together anyhow, and steps out into the hall.

Steve’s voice filters up the stairs with a mouthwatering buttermilk smell, “Good morning Mr. Munson, I’m sorry if I woke you.”

What time is it anyway? Eddie winces internally on Steve’s behalf if it’s anytime past 8.

“My name is Steve Harrington, sir, and I—” Steve sighs, “Yes sir, that Harrington.”

Eddie actually winces this time, halfway down the stairs now.

“No, no no, of course not, no trouble at all Mr. Munson, I’m calling because of Eddie.”

Oof, nope, that’s not gonna help ya, Stevie.

“I didn’t—no, not complaining about—no, he got hurt an–”

Eddie can hear Wayne’s voice through the phone now, even from where he’s stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“I think he might have a concussion and—no, no! I wanted to let you know so you can—”

He decides to save Steve from the Wrath of Wayne and walks around the corner into the kitchen. He holds his hand out for the receiver, and Steve gratefully passes it over, turning back to his waffle maker (a whole-ass waffle maker! Lucky sonofabitch…).

“--And if you don’ tell me righ’ this minute how he got hurt–”

“Calm down, old man, I’m fine. Though I think Steve would’ve denied me waffles if you went on any longer.”

“Theodore Munson, you tell me what’s goin’ on right this second.”

“Whoa! Full name privileges are revoked for you,” He jokes, unable to resist riling up his uncle more. He pulls the cord around the corner and back into the hall, “Wayne, seriously, I’m fine. I just fell into Harrington’s pool a little. No big deal.”

“No big deal huh? Why’n the hell were you concussed in Loch Nora?”

“It’s a long story, but short version is I fell into Harrington’s pool and smacked my head. Steve made sure I was okay, and,” he cringes, “and Hopper might show up on our doorstep in the next couple hours.”

Wayne heaves a long sigh, “Goddammit, boy.”

“It’s all good, I’ll be home soon. I’m gonna pilfer some breakfast and get Steve to drive me home.”

“Wait, wha’happened t’yer van?”

“Okay, bye Wayne! See you soon!”

“Theodore Wayn—”

He breathes a sigh of relief when the phone is back on its cradle.

“Your uncle is scary, man.”

Eddie turns back to Steve’s voice, sitting on the same stool he did last night. Steve passes him a plate with two large golden brown waffles.

“Nah, he’s a big softy. He just worries ‘bout me.” he picks up his fork, digging into the fluffy waffles. They are unfairly good. “Thanks for breakfast, Steve, this is great!”

“You’re welcome man, y’want strawberries?”

They eat quickly, it was later than Eddie thought and Steve has the opening shift at his new-ish job at Starcourt’s ice cream parlor.

“Oh, um.. Ice cream’s good, right?”

Steve grimaces, “I feel like it’ll be very not good after this summer. Plus I have a dumb uniform I have to wear.” he gestures to the backpack he’d grabbed on their way out and tossed in the backseat.

They’re in Steve’s BMW now; his shoes and vest are still kinda damp and he’s gonna have to re-condition his leather jacket after the damn chlorine got to it, but that’s a problem for Future Eddie. “No college for you then? I honestly figured you’d be outta here as soon as you walked across that stage.”

“I uh, didn’t get in.” Steve says, “Dad decided I should get a job at Scoops to teach me a lesson or something. As if I didn’t feel bad about not living up to his expectations enough already.”

Eddie doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but his silence seems to make Steve nervous. “It’s whatever though, I shouldn’t be dumping this all on you, sorry.”

“Hey man, it’s cool, sounds like King Harrington of Hawkins expected a lot of the Prince.” They’re turning into the Forest Hills trailer park now; Eddie has a fleeting thought about how he’s finally made it to where he’d been heading last night, and something about how a twist of fate (of feet?) diverted him to a whole new course he hadn’t expected, but was glad had happened.

Steve snorts, “Yeah, don’t think he appreciated the Prince parading around pretending to be King prematurely, huh?”

Eddie grins at him as the wheels crunch on the gravel pad outside his home. “A savior and a Prince is better than a King any day.”

He gets a grin in return, then it falls slightly as he glances up at the trailer. “Well, here you are, Munson. It was, uh, weird? But nice to meet you…Officially, anyway” he tacks onto the end, “Just don’t accidentally fall into my pool again.”

“Hmm, I dunno Stevie, it was nice to be pampered.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle up again when he laughs, “How would you rate your visit to Casa Harrington, sir? On a scale of four to five stars?”

“Hmmm.. probably a 4.7 out of five.”

“4.7?! Ouch Eds, that hurts.” Steve clutches a hand to his chest, “After all the waffles and wakeup calls,”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for those wakeup calls.”

“4.7…” he mutters again, shaking his head, “What would’ve given me a full five then?”

“Well you gotta lay off the wakeup calls for starters,” Eddie says, starting to count on his fingers, “More options for toppings at your waffle breakfast bar,”

“You had strawberries and chocolate syrup! What more do you need?!”

Eddie continues on as if he hadn’t heard him. “There was no lifeguard on duty, my towels weren’t warmed up for me, I believe I was promised a True Love’s kiss at some point and never got it, the concierge antagonized my uncle—”

He’s interrupted from his rant by a quick press of something to the corner of his mouth.

He whips his head around and Steve’s face is mere inches from his. There’s a blush high on his cheeks, his eyes are wide (and they’re hazel, how’d he not know that?!), “Did you just—”

“Eddie! Get your ass up here, now.” Wayne calls from the porch, causing them both to jump.

“Better get goin’ Eds.” Steve whispers, swallowing hard.

“Yeah, I–” he glances down at Steve’s lips, he has a few seconds, right? Enough time to—

“Eddie!” Nope.

His eyes stay trained on Steve’s nervous expression while his hand scrambles for the handle. He finally finds it, all but spills out of the car, and closes the door behind him once he’s out fully.

Without any more preamble, Steve backs out of their driveway, and leaves the park.

-🍦-

Steve doesn’t see Eddie for a couple weeks, wasn’t even sure Eddie would want to see him again after that stupid move he pulled, but when he finally does, it’s just before closing on a random Wednesday at Scoops.

“You missed, Harrington!” Eddie calls from the entrance to Scoops. He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Eddie?”

“You missed!” he walks forward at a normal speed, despite seeming like he’d rushed to get here. He’s also shaking his finger at him, chiding.

“Where’ve you been, man?”

“Had to take care of the whole ‘evading arrest’ thing, but that’s not important. You missed Stevie.”

“Stevie?” he hears Robin mutter in disbelief.

“Missed what? I mean, yeah, I missed you too man, but what—?”

He’s cut off when Eddie finally reaches the counter, grabs his face in both hands, and kisses him square on the mouth.

Robin yelps in surprise, but that is the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

Eddie’s lips are chapped, but they slot along Steve’s so easy it makes his head spin.

After forever and no time at all, Eddie pulls back, dropping back to his side of the counter. “There. A real lips to lips kiss. None of that sly cheek shit, Harrington.”

Steve’s still a bit dazed, “Much better than the first one.” He leans closer to Eddie again, lips searching, but he’s held still.

“Whattya mean, ‘the first one’?”

It clears his head a bit, “Uh, the one where I saved your life? Obviously.”

“That doesn’t count!” Eddie’s hands leave his face, and he misses them already.

“It was lips to lips! Isn’t that what you just said?”

“It was CPR, Steven!”

“I can count it as our first kiss if I want to, Edward.” Steve crosses his arms across his chest.

“My name’s not Edwa—”

The long squeal of marker-on-whiteboard cuts him off, and he immediately flushes red.

Oh yeah, Robin…aw fuck.

He turns slowly to the window behind the counter; a single tally mark has been drawn into the left side of Robin’s YOU RULE / YOU SUCK board.

She caps the marker, sets it down, smirks, and says “Congratulations, Dingus.”

this is also on AO3!

tagging a few of the people in the tags of the original who seemed interested in more! hope that's okay!!!

@inthewychelm @tboyeddie @brbsoulnomming @henderdads @ajs624 @sleepy-steve @eddiesdoeeyes @steddie-island @themeanderingty @hammity-hammer @spicysix @steddieasitgoes @willowworkswithwords @farahsamboolents @shares-a-vest @klausinamarink @fortheloveofgodletmein @sharpbutsoft @perseus-notjackson @zombiethingy @tchackdaw @eddiethehunted @smoothiecas @donttellunclesam @allyricas @living-force @xandriumbat @himbosandhardwear @everything-is-the-answer @sidebarre @m-owo-n @warmsole @occasionaloverboy @whoopssteddiefeels @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @extra-transitional @cecil5683 @makeadealwithdean @huymadovan

#and then eddie realizes wtf steve is wearing and promptly goes feral #i'm not sure about this one gents /gn #i think it's fun but also like it's a whole long ramble where nothing happens 🙃#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #he's a runner he's a track star #eddie munson x steve harrington #steveddie #eddeve #meet cute #meet ugly?#pre-canon #pre-season 3 #steddie but make it s3 #noelle writes

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thehouseofurmotha · 2 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you can please do katsuki bakugo dating fem!reader who’s quirk is like panty from panty and stocking but her personality is like super sweet but will get mean if need to (also if it’s not a problem can it be dating hc’s? 🫶

Hiya! Thank you for the request <3 I've never watched Panty and Stocking so everything is based on what I've read from google, so if anything is wrong feel free to correct me and I'll rewrite it! <3 (I am def gonna watch it soon though so I might as just redo it based on information I get from that)

• You and Bakugou were dating for 2 months, when you finally told him about what exactly your quirk is. It's safe to say you don't think you'll ever see him as flustered as he was. You thought it was very adorable though.

• You understand that certain details of your quirk can be embarrassing to other people. Though feeling embarrassed about your quirk is never a thought that's occurred to you. But after Midoriya passed out one time while he was asking questions about your quirk you figured it was better to keep to yourself.

• You and Bakugou had known each other from childhood, and had started dating 2 months before you started U.A.

• Bakugou is like 'wait how tf did you figure out what your quirk was.

• You explain to him that you have another form, and you turning into that when you were 6 is how you found out about that. But then you explain to him that you didn't know about your gun until you were 14, and you were trying to get changed and suddenly there was a gun in your hand. Was a very confusing moment for you 😭

• He thinks your quirk is cool asf though, and he's always pushing you to do your best in training. He'd never tell you about it but he really wants to see your other form.

• The first time he does it's safe to say bro was WHIPPED. He thought you looked like an absolute goddess.

• let's talk about the reasons he ended up seeing your other form though. Everyone in the class adored you, they thought you were the sweetest. Until someone pissed you off.

• During the attack on the USJ, you had ended up with Bakugou and Kirishima. Bakugou was just happy that you were with him so he could protect you. Bakugou knew you were strong, Kirishima on the other hands only saw what you did during the first training activity and the fitness test, which sadly didn't end up being much.

• Homie was like, "stay behind me y/n! I'll protect you. And you and Bakugou both look at him like 'bitch what?' Then you guys start getting attacked by villains so you get your weapon out, starting to shoot at the villains. And then you watch one of them get a nasty hit and Bakugou.

• You were pissed, and not about to let that shit slide. Then before you've realized it, you're in your other form. Which your parents lovingly adorned your Angel form. (Idk if I used that word right guys).

• Bakugou and Kirishima could not 🙅‍♀️ keep their eyes off of you, like you were so bright. Your boyfriend thought you looked like an absolute goddess and was absolutely going to tell you so after this.

• If the class (or specifically mineta) ever found out about the full truth of your quirk. He would yell at anyone who said any weird or rude comments about it.

Bonus:

(During the fitness test)

"Kats, real quick gimmie your underwear." You whisper at him, maybe a bit to loud cause u get some odd looks from your classmates.

"Y/n what the actual fuck."

"Don't be weird about it, it'll hopefully make the barrel of my baby big enough to launch the softball out of it." You give him a small smile, not really understanding that he's still embarrassed about it.

"You are the weirdest person ever." Yet he still obliges, and you were right which meant you at least didn't come in last place during the test.

Aizawa was a little concerned tho when you transformed them back and threw Bakugou's pair at him while none of your classmates were looking.

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atimeofyourlife · 10 months

Text

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington has bad parents #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #atimeofyourwrites

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your-nanas-house · 10 months

Note

maybe you could do a cillian murphy like dark smut where he takes advantage of his younger co stars lack of social grace. he manipulates her into having rough possessive sex with him. cillian murphy tells y/n that it would help them bond better for their film?

Sure thing! 🫶🏻

Just for the movie

◇ Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy X actress!Reader

◇ Warnings: manipulation, rough sex, age gap (both off age so 20s and 40s), unprotect sex, breeding kink

◇ Summary: Cillian manipulate his younger coworker to have rough sex with him.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

Y/n's eyes scanned the room, she was standing awkwardly in her coworker's, Cillian Murphy, trailer— waiting patiently to meet him like he requested.

It was one of the first big films she had managed to be in, so she was still a little nervous and unsure of her abilities.

Which was one of the reasons she was there— trying to get some important and useful advice from a famous older actor, who had been inside that world longer than her.

A few hours earlier, when Y/n asked him for the favor, Cillian said yes without any problems, giving her a time and place to meet, making sure to meet her when there was no one left on set— thing that she wasn't aware of yet.

It didn't take long for Cillian to arrive, enter the trailer and lock the door as his eyes stopped on her

"Hi, love" he greeted, moving closer to steal a kiss pretending it was just an irish greeting

"Are you ready?" at the question Y/n nodded quickly, playing with her rings

"I'm still a bit nervous but I thought about it and if that's how actors and actresses do then I'm ready" she nodded, waiting for the next step.

Cillian had explained the dynamics to her a little, summarizing them in some points or steps— the first was acceptance and consent, which he had managed to obtain by manipulating her.

The next step was the main part.

Cillain's eyes remained on her the whole time as he sat down on the sofa, his legs spreaded open and his arms resting on it

"Take your clothes off, honey" he ordered in a soft tone.

Y/n hesitated for a second but after taking a deep breath and reminded herself that it was all for the movie, her acting skills and she could trust her coworker, she removed slowly her dress.

As soon as the dress hit the floor, she started to remove her stockings and all the other undergarments, staying just with her thong on.

Her y/e/c eyes looked away from him as she kept covering her bare breasts

"Come here" Cillian whispered softly, his gaze already dark with primal lust.

His hands reached for her hips, moving her across his lap so that she was straddling him before taking things further— his eyes scanning her whole body.

"Put your hands on my shoulder, love" Cillian murmured in the same soft tone, hiding his urges pretty good as she did what he asked, exposing that way her round young breasts.

Cillian licked slowly his lips, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her chest

"You're too tense" he commented, tracing an imaginary path with his kisses which kept going higher— reaching her neck, jaw, behind her ear and slowly her lips as well.

Y/n kissed back, trying to distract herself with the kiss to shut her worried and unsure part.

It was all for the movie and he was helping her, just helping— or so Cillian continued go remind her as his lips traveled back down, his hips grinding up making his covered boner rub against her covered cunt.

Y/n's breath became heavier at that feeling, her mouth remained slightly open as Cillian kept humping her clothed sex, his hand kneading roughly her ass cheeks.

"You're doing so good, love" he whispered in a raspy voice, moving one of his hand on her tits, grabbing it roughly to suck harshly at her nipple

"So good, baby— take off your panties" he ordered earger, watching her get off his lap to do as he said, allowing him that way to get ride of his own clothes— lying down on the sofa completely naked.

Y/n didn't have much time to think or stop the whole act since Cillian grabbed her hips in a quick motion, as soon as she was fully naked, and in a couple of second his index finger was checking her folds.

Cillian hummed in approval, his icy eyes staring at his finger, looking at the wetness that was now covering her pussy— she was ready.

The older man pumped his hard rock cock a couple of times, while looking at her, his breath becoming heavier and heavier as he bit down his bottom lip.

It was a quite hot scene to watch at and it distracted Y/n till the tip of Cillian's leaking tip started to enter her.

His hips snapped up, filling her in a quick motion, making her jaw drop, her eyes quickly shut in pain— she didn't have much time to adjust since Cillian started to thrusts in her tight pussy like a animal during its heat.

Moans and praises kept slipping from his gorgeous lips, his feet stable on the sofa so that he could thrusts easier, making Y/n bounce with every motion.

"Fuck" he hissed louder, his hand grabbed her hips tighter as he reached slowly his peak, expecially when she shook when she hit her climax— tightening more around him as if she was begging for him to shoot his load inside of her.

Cillian came, holding her down, as his load filled her younger cunt— a soft whine escaped Y/n's lips while she rested against his pale freckled chest, taking deep breaths

"It was pretty good. We should do it again a few times to improve...for our scene in the movie" he whispered, his soft cock staying still in her cunt, his hand holding her still on him.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

#cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x actress!reader

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chanshoesunite · 2 years

Text

Chan wants to record your moans for a song

GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 2.6k Author’s Note (Author Hare): This is my 500 follower hug for y’all inspired by two prompts given to me by my favourite reader of all times, Author Tortoise. Maybe you can guess what they are! WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), unsafe sex (wrap it up, kids), slight dirty talk, Chan calls reader a slut (but in a very loving way)

You unlock the door, enter the flat and kick off your heeled ankle boots, balancing two bags of takeout as you do. Having successfully completed that task, you dump them on the floor and shrug out of your coat as your obligatory “honey, I’m home” call stays unanswered. You smile to yourself – you’d expected that; it means that your boyfriend is still so focused on creating music, he forgets the world around him. That is also the main reason why he got you a key to his flat – more than once had you been standing in front of the door, waiting for him to open it for you, and he simply hadn’t heard the doorbell, lost as he was in his creative process.

You’re still in your work clothes – a black dress (that might have screamed “overdressed!” to some people, but you are aware that being overdressed is a concept created by people who don’t want women to feel beautiful every day), stockings and bright red lipstick – as you make your way through the hallway with the sashimi you’ve picked up at Chan’s favourite place to treat him for dinner.

You knock on his studio door, but the gesture is again futile – through the glass door, you can see that he’s wearing massive headphones and can’t hear anything that’s not blasted through those. You take a moment to watch him – he is clad simply in a black oversized shirt, his hair a dark mess as if he’d dragged his hands through it a hundred times today while looking for words and melodies to match in ways that you find to be positively magical. Elbows on his desk, his gaze is turned towards the ceiling as he vibes with the music, nodding to the beat, critically analysing something he has created. It’s so incredibly attractive, the way he is so focused on and passionate about his work, your heart is full just looking at him.

The song seems to end because Chan looks down and catches your eye. He gives a little start – after all, he thought he was alone in his flat until a few seconds ago – and then a glowing smile takes over his face. He waves to you in an almost childlike gesture, and you mirror his smile as you enter the studio. Chan pulls the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck before putting them on the desk. “Hey, baby girl,” he greets you happily, rolling back in his swivel chair and patting his thighs. “Come here!”

You oblige, sitting in his lap, your legs dangling over one of the armrests as your arms come to rest on his broad shoulders. You lean in to kiss him, and though you mean it only to be a peck, your kiss lasts a little longer and feels a little more heated than your average welcome back kiss. “Hi,” you whisper, smiling, as you pull back eventually.

Chan’s eyes are fixed on your red lips, but eventually stray as they take in your dress. “You look beautiful,” he pronounces, his hand sliding down the skirt of your dress and coming to rest on your knee. “Did you have a good day?”

You nod emphatically, your curls bouncing as if supporting your claim as you recount your successful day at the publishing company where you work. “The presentation went very well. The boss was ecstatic and said I’ll get to manage more of the marketing campaigns since I’m doing such a good job.” You nod to the takeout bags. “I got us some sashimi to celebrate.”

Chan’s face, which had lit up at the news, now takes on an even more enthusiastic expression. “I’m so proud of you, baby, those are wonderful news! I’m so glad your boss can see how dedicated, hardworking, and talented you are! And I’m happy I get to celebrate with you. Thanks for bringing dinner.” He nuzzles into your neck, and you giggle, feeling giddy at his euphoria.

“Thanks for being such a hype boy, babe. And how was your day? How is the new album coming along?” You glance at the computer, where Chan has obviously been busy mixing a sound file. Chan shrugs. “Ah, you knaur.” He’s trying to sound non-committal, but you know that he cares deeply. “I’m trying to write a new unit song. Hyunjin is in it, so it needs to be racy.” He winks at you. “Another hoe anthem, you mean?” Your boyfriend bursts out laughing. “Something like that. Do you want to hear it?” “Sure!” You always love listening to early versions of songs – it is intriguing to watch Chan decide what to keep and what to cut, what to put on demos – and then listen to the final product as it is released. The process is fascinating, and you love being a part of it, even if you’re only a spectator.

Chan reaches around you, and you turn to face the computer, leaning back against his broad chest. His left hand slips around your waist, securing him against you as he starts the song. Immediately you know why this song is meant for Hyunjin; it is a dark-sounding RnB track that seems to continue the tradition laid down in “Red Lights” and “Taste”. There is an almost hypnotic organ melody that reminds you of church, but in a distinctly unholy way as it is paired with lyrics such as “I know that we shouldn’t, but I want to”. Chan’s voice on the demo carries the song without difficulties, and it’s positively captivating; breathy whispers and slight vocal fries add to the sexy tone of the song.

You feel the mood in the room shift, anticipation making room for arousal. You shiver in Chan’s arms listening to it, and you feel your boyfriend shift beneath you before he presses a kiss to your neck. “Do you like it?” he breathes into your ear, and the air against your neck tickles you in a decidedly not innocent way.

You nod, releasing a breath you don’t know you’ve been holding. “It’s definitely racy,” you agree, your breath hitching as Chan continues to kiss your neck while the song moves into the second verse. You can feel him smile against your skin.

“It’s almost as if hearing my voice singing it is doing something to you, baby girl. It must be like me getting dirty thoughts when you wear lipstick like that,” he almost purrs, gently biting your earlobe as his right hand finds your breast, teasing it through the cloth. A tiny gasp escapes you, and even though the music is still playing, it doesn’t slip Chan’s attention. “God,” he almost growls. “Your moans would sound so good on this track.”

That one sentence causes you to groan again, and Chan’s hand slips from your waist downwards, under your dress and directly into your panties. He gasps at the wetness he finds there and starts stroking you softly, maddeningly, but not in any way that could actually do something for you except tease you further. “Does it turn you on that much, baby girl? Hearing me sing a naughty song, knowing I wrote it thinking about your body? Do you like the idea of me recording your moans, putting them on the track, having the fans wonder who got so horny just listening to the demo version? You’re such a little slut, baby.”

At the word slut, he pushes a finger into your pussy, and this time, your moan is anything but quiet as you throw your head back. The song comes to a close, ending, just as it started, with the organ melody, and the only thing you can hear is Chan’s finger sliding into you and the two of you breathing heavily.

“So,” he drawls, almost sounding bored but of course he’s anything but as his thumb comes to circle your clit. “What do you say?” You meet his eyes as he glances down on your face, still hypnotized by your lipstick. “You know,” you rasp. “Your song is so hot I wish I could fuck it, but I can’t. So I will fuck you instead.” You watch as Chan’s pupils dilate, and the growl that escapes his throat as he claims your lips is almost feral. Well, you know what you do to him, and you have him exactly where you want him.

“Turn on the mic,” you breathe as you pull his hands off you. In a quick gesture, you grab the hem of your dress and discard it onto the floor, standing in front of him in just your stockings and black underwear, lasciviously leaning against the desk. “Let’s see how good these moans sound.”

He seems to contemplate your words for a few seconds before he takes a step closer and, his eyes never leaving yours, leans forward to push a few keys on his keyboard. This right there, this silence before the storm, this uninterrupted eye contact, might be one of the hottest moments you’ve experienced in a long time.

Chan is on you in a second, hoisting you up onto the desk as he kisses you deeply. Your hands grab for the hem of his t-shirt, greedily pulling it off to feel more of his skin. Chan’s meanwhile busy opening your bra, and in his impatience, he has to fumble for a bit to get it off you.

“Eager?” you tease against his lips before biting down, eliciting a groan from him. “You have no idea, baby girl,” he admits as he finally gets the offending garment off. He lets it carelessly fall to the floor, already focused on nothing else but your naked breasts resting against the palms of his hands. He kisses you deeply as he strokes your stiff nipples, his erection pushing against your scantily clothed pussy as he stands between your spread legs, trying to still be closer to you than he already is.

You cross your ankles behind him, helping him in his endeavour, and you both gasp as he grinds against you. “Off, off, off,” you breathe, gesturing to both his sweatpants and your underwear. Chan smirks. “Who’s eager now?” he asks, nipping at your collarbone. You roll your eyes playfully. “Who has written a song about fucking me?” He seems to consider that for a second. “Fair point. Move your hips for me, will you, baby girl?”

You help him pull your panties off and take the liberty of pulling down his sweatpants and underwear in one go, letting his girthy cock spring free. Chan appreciates the view for a second, seeing as you’re only wearing stockings now. “You’re the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen,” he declares in a raspy voice, and it only adds to your need. You make to touch him, but Chan easily catches your wrist and pins it to the desk with his hand. You actually whine at that. “Please, don’t tease me,” you beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his length stretching you out deliciously.

Chan’s smile is wolfish. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get what you want.” And before you can protest any more, he lets go of your hand, pulls you to the edge of the desk and guides his cock into your pussy. Your gasps mix with his broken moans as he slowly pushes in. Chan pauses, but only for a moment – both of you are far too turned on to take this slow, and even though the height of the desk isn’t perfect, the newness of the location adds a level of spice to the encounter.

He starts thrusting into you, fast, hard, causing the desk to shake beneath you. You scramble to push the keyboard to the side, falling back onto your elbows as Chan’s punishing pace throws you off balance. You stare up at him: his hair sticking to his forehead, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his neck, the muscles in his arms playing as he holds onto your hips with a ferocity that might result in bruises. You give yourself over to your sensations: the cold desk below you, the sound of skin slapping against skin, Chan’s steady groans at the pleasure you give him, his big cock positively railing your wet cunt.

You grab onto him, pulling yourself back up and clinging to his broad shoulders, wanting to be even closer to him, feel his breath on your skin. “You feel so good,” you moan into his neck, biting his shoulder lightly. His retaliation comes in form of a thrust so powerful that it punches a loud groan out of you.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot, making me take you in my studio,” he gasps as he pushes into you again and again, relentlessly. “You’ll sound so good on this song, and it’ll be our little secret, but at the same time everyone will know. Everyone will know that only I can fuck you so well, make you make the hottest little noises, make you fall apart on my cock.” He slips a hand between you and starts stroking you to make sure the falling apart can actually happen, but he knows your body well enough to have you panting and at the edge of your orgasm within minutes.

“You’re such a good girl, making the most beautiful noises. Tell me, baby, who’s making you feel good? Say it. I want to hear it.” Pushing against him, trying to get closer to the delicious friction, you gasp, “You, Chan, only you can make me feel like this!”

You can feel Chan’s concentration slipping, his thrusts becoming sloppier, but he seems determined to make you come first, so he redoubles his efforts stroking you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, how you’re a good little slut for him, taking him so well, how you’re made for this, made for him, how no other pussy could ever feel this good.

“Come on, baby girl, be good and moan for me and Hyunjin.” For some reason, that and a well-timed thrust does it, and you come on Chan’s cock with a loud, drawn-out groan, your pussy spasming wildly around him so he follows you over the edge mere seconds later. He crushes his lips to yours once more, and you make out as he spills into you, and continue to do so as you both slowly come off your highs.

A few moments later, you break the kiss to lean against his shoulder, still enclosed in his embrace. “That was a really nice entrée,” you declare, and Chan chuckles. He is quiet for a few seconds. “Are we gonna pretend you didn’t come the second I mentioned Hyunjin’s name?” You know he is teasing you, so you decide to go along. “Well, maybe you should invite him over some time?” Slowly, gently, you push against him so can slide out of you. You can feel a dribble of come making its way out of you and onto Chan’s desk, but that looks like a him-problem.

Chan clutches his chest in mock-terror. “Am I not enough for you?” You shake your head. “Oh baby, you’re sometimes more than I can cope with,” you say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you grab your underwear. “But in a good way. The best, really.” Chan slides an arm around you, stabilising you as you slip on your panties. “I’ll take it as a compliment, then.” He glances at the takeout bags. “Dinner?”

You nod. “Have you turned off the mic?” Your boyfriend turns around to check the equipment. He curses. “Oh naur, it seems like it was off the whole time!” He catches your eye as you slip on his t-shirt, and there is a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess we’ll have to do this again soon…”

#author hare #500 follower extravaganza #bang chan #bang chan smut #chanshoesunite #bang chan imagine #skz smut #bangchan x reader #skz imagine #bangchan smut #author hare effectively writing herself into the story like the lil witch that she is #to tortoise with love

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swarvey · 4 months

Text

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

Harvey remembers when he thought you were the love of his life; you don't seem to recall a time like that at all. After inheriting your grandfather's farm, you finally get to move back to Stardew Valley. Little do you know a certain doctor has patiently been waiting for your return.

a/n: the start of a harvey fic i posted on ao3, thought i would share!

ch. 1 | ch. 2

paper rings masterlist

chapter one: i bet you think about me -> “the love that you’re lookin’ for is the love that you had.”

Harvey hummed lightly to himself as he walked through Pierre's store, carefully eyeing the ingredients of each snack he put in his basket. Although he hated to admit it, he was finally beginning to feel his age; the walks that used to be so simple to him were starting to drag, and he found he needed a minimum of eight hours of sleep each night to wake up energized. He sighed lightly, longing for his college days when he easily walked across campus and would sometimes stay up all night studying for a final.

Still, as more and more time went on, his health was his top priority. His eyes lit up as he saw his favorite granola bars were back in stock.

"Harvey! I haven't seen you in a minute." Harvey turned to greet Caroline with a small smile. "You must be busy. With spring coming along, I'm sure all the kids will be heading over to your clinic with runny noses." She wasn't wrong. Whenever the weather got a bit warmer after the winter, Harvey was always greeted by the town's kids and teens, all reluctantly sent by their parents for a check-up. Most of the time, he simply sent them home with allergy medication.

"Of course, my favorite time of the year," he joked, shaking his head. "How have you been, Caroline? Have those vitamins I recommended you been doing you well?" He picked up a box of cereal from the shelf, pushing his glasses up and examining its label.

She shook her head in disbelief. "I couldn't believe it — I never knew those things could affect me so much! I've been feeling much more awake and energized thanks to you."

Harvey let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Ah, well, it's what I'm here for, isn't it?" He traded the cereal he had in hand with another one on the shelf, in awe at the amount of sugar in all of them. "You hear about anything new going on? I'm afraid I haven't been to the saloon in over a week now, so I haven't been very filled in."

Caroline pursed her lips as she thought. "Nothing too crazy going on in the Valley," she said after a moment. "Pierre's been preparing for the spring, Abigail's been practicing a ton with Sam and Seb, just the usual." Harvey nodded, humming in triumph as he finally found a box of cereal to his liking.

"Oh, and remember that girl who used to come by all the time? I heard her grandfather passed away, poor thing. He was a great man." What? Harvey froze, smile dropping. "Now that I think about it, weren't the two of you good friends? She's taking over his farm this spring, you know."

Thud.

The box landed between the two as he remained silent, his face beginning to burn.

"Harvey? Everything alright?"

"Sh-she is?" Harvey stuttered. When he realized how concerned Caroline looked, he cleared his throat, hastily grabbing the cereal off the floor and throwing it into his basket. "That's wonderful! I mean, not wonderful about her grandfather, but—" He shook his head. "I actually have something to tend to at the clinic, so I'll go check out now!"

Pierre gave his wife a quizzical look as Harvey rushedly handed his items to him, ears turning a shade of bright red. Caroline shrugged, clueless as to what she had said to make the doctor so flustered. The two watched half-amused as he left the store with a quick "thank you," keeping his gaze on the floor.

"He's always been a bit shy," Caroline reasoned. Pierre nodded, the couple returning to their tasks.

How? How was this happening? Harvey's thoughts raced as he made his way into his apartment, practically slamming the door shut as he sunk to the floor. Memories came rushing back to him as your name rang through his head, realizing it had been too long since the two of you had spoken. No wonder he didn't hear about your decision beforehand. Guilt began to eat at him as he thought of everything he had missed in your life, taking off his glasses to rub his face in stress. Would you even want to speak with him anymore?

Finally, after nearly half an hour of contemplation, Harvey scrambled up the courage to pick up his phone and give you a call. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the dial tone rang, half of him hoping you wouldn't pick up. At least then he could avoid the situation a little longer, right?

"Hello? Harvey?"

Crap.

"Hello? Are you there?" you repeated, raising a brow. "Harvey, did you butt dial me?"

"No, no! I'm here," your friend replied, a slight panic in his voice. "Uh, well . . . how have you been?"

You let out a huff of laughter. "Some things never change, do they, Harvs?" His old nickname slipped off your tongue with ease. You remember when you were kids together, running around playing tag — back then, you would chase him and call him Harvsy. "You're still just as charming as ever," you tease.

There's a beat of silence before he replies with an awkward laugh. "You know me better than anyone." He pauses. "So, I heard you're moving to Stardew Valley?"

"Ah, right, I am! Sorry, I never got the chance to tell you," you sighed. "It's been a while since we last talked, huh?"

"I suppose it has," he agreed, and you note the twinge of sadness in his tone.

It's not like you wanted to stop talking to him, not at all, but with all the complications going on in your life, it was hard to keep in touch with your old friend. You always saw Harvey as a kid whenever you visited your grandfather's farm, as his grandparents also lived there. The two of you grew even closer throughout your pre-teen and teen years, always sharing music and studying together. You even saw him from time to time during college — although he went to a bigger, more prestigious medical university, you were both in Zuzu City and got food with each other from time to time. After you graduated and ended up working at Joja Cola HQ, though, you began to see Harvey less and less. Both of you tried to call regularly, you really did, but when your life began to look too black and white, you gave up on nearly all your social connections, focusing entirely on your work and making it through each day. It didn't help that he was busy running his clinic, too.

Things didn't get much better when your grandfather died. He passed away towards the end of your college years, leaving you an envelope you promised not to open until you felt, "crushed by the burden of modern life." You had actually spoken to Harvey over the phone about your grandpa's words, though both of you were equally confused at what he meant.

That is, until working for Joja became too unbearable.

Only then did you open the letter, more miserable than you had been in your life. Despite it all, your grandfather had left you the greatest gift he could have in order to reignite your spirit: his farm.

"Well," you started, snapping out of your short daze, "I'll be in town in three days, so why don't we catch up then?"

More silence.

Was he always this quiet? Or have you two just grown apart?

"Harvey," you sang, "you still there?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Yes, of course, just give me a call when you're on your way, I can, uh, help you move in. If you need help, that is!" You laughed lightly; he was still the same dork you knew in the past.

"I would love some help, if you can spare the time," you said, smiling. "I'll see you soon, then?"

"Yes, I'll see you soon." You hung up, a smile lingering on your face.

I wonder if he has a girlfriend, you wondered. He had never been the most outgoing, but surely he had to have met someone. You shrugged to yourself, continuing to pack some of your belongings into boxes.

Suddenly, going back to the Valley had become all the more exciting.

Harvey sank into his chair at the saloon, hand covering half his face as he began to question his life choices.

"Oh, come now, my friend," Elliott chided, taking a swig of his drink. "Where is your courage, your hope? You should be ecstatic that your love is returning to the town!"

Shane grunted. "Yeah, right," he grumbled. "Odds are, she's already moved on."

Elliott frowned at him, but ignored him nonetheless. "Tell us what is on your mind, Harvey."

Harvey sighed. He had asked to sit between the two at the bar in hopes of gaining some clarity, but all he seemed to have achieved was embarrassment. While Elliott was overly enthusiastic about his "long lost love's return," Shane couldn't care less about the subject, bluntly stating his pessimistic thoughts. He felt as if there was an angel and a devil, literally, on either of his shoulders — Elliott was to his left, while Shane was to his right.

"Shane may be right," Harvey admitted, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. "What's the point of thinking about all this if she's already taken?" With that thought, he finished the remainder of his drink, trying to ignore the stinging in his chest.

The two men beside him were the only ones who knew about his feelings for you. Harvey confided in them from time to time, as they were closest to his age and they had known each other for quite some time. Although their personalities often clashed and seemed impossibly different, it was nice to talk to them. At least he and Elliott enjoyed it, anyway — Shane never outwardly showed his appreciation for them, except for the occasional half-smile at their jokes that they missed the majority of the time.

Elliott shook his head. "You mustn't give up before the battle has even begun," he stated, leaning closer to look Harvey in the eyes. "How long has it been since you first felt this way toward her?"

". . . Ah, you see," Harvey began quietly, his blush adding to the warmth of the alcohol he had drunk, "I've actually liked her for quite some time."

His friend hummed. "Since college, then?"

"A bit longer . . ."

"Oh, high school sweethearts? How romantic!" Shane rolled his eyes.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Actually, since we were about, let's see . . . ten? A little younger?"

Shane choked on his drink as Elliott's mouth fell open.

"Fucking hell," Shane swore, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "That's like, what, two decades?"

Harvey wished he could cover his face with a blanket and disappear. "It started off as a crush, of course, we were kids," he feebly defended. "Then it just never really faded." He jumped when he felt Elliott strongly grab his shoulder, a new fire lighting his eyes.

"This, my friend, is fate," he claimed confidently. "I am sure now that you two were meant to be."

"Elliott, please—"

"Not another word!" He rose from his seat, dropping coins on the table and giving Gus a thumbs up. "Gus, I'd like to pay these gentlemen's tabs tonight." The bartender grinned, returning the gesture. "Now, Harvey, I advise you go home and rest for your lover's arrival—"

"Not so loud!" Harvey begged, frantically checking if anyone had heard.

"—as you must look your utmost best for her," Elliott finished.

Shane groaned. "Listen, thanks for paying for the drinks, pal, but I think we're done here. You're killin' him." With a quick nod to Harvey and a scowl at Elliott, Shane shrugged his jacket on and made his way out.

"I expect to hear all about your reunion, Dr. Harvey," Elliott said, putting on his own coat and placing a hand on his shoulder once again. "Best of luck! Let fate guide you." A few people glanced over at his theatrics, and Harvey truly questioned why he had chosen to confide in him in the first place.

As his friend left, Gus wandered over to him, brow raised. "What was that all about?" he asked.

Harvey shook his head. "It's a long story," he sighed, pushing his glass toward the bartender. He ignored the fact that he had gotten five refills above his usual limit; this was a dire situation.

Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was your smile.

Miss me, Harvs?

He sighed.

"Another glass, please."

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biblomaniac · 2 months

Text

Warm.

Lena felt almost uncomfortably warm, body nearly sticking to the cotton sheets she was in. The position she found herself in was familiar, Kara wrapped comfortably around her back, arm thrown carelessly over her waist.

However, despite waking up in a familiar bed, in a familiar position, something was drastically different. She was naked. Naked. With Karas arm across her waist and hand spread protectively over her stomach. What. The. Fuck.

She lifted the duvet carefully, trying to assure herself this could absolutely not be happening. Yet, lo and behold, she was indeed without clothes, and so it seemed was Kara.

Panic consumed Lena’s groggy mind. Her body tensed, all thoughts of warmth and comfort replaced by fear. She prepared to leave, deciding it would be best to get up quickly, but that plan failed almost instantly.

It seemed that even in sleep, the blonde was very aware of her surroundings. She was intent on keeping Lena in the bed with her. The hand on her stomach pulled her body back into the hard plane of Kara’s midsection.

Dear God. This is not going well.

Lena doesn’t move, staying stock still as she waits for Kara’s breathing to settle back into a gentle rhythm before trying to escape again. This time, she scoots slowly out of the bed, replacing herself with the pillow she laid on last night.

This time, she’s successful, managing to tiptoe away from the bed, watching as Kara frowns into the pillow she now clutches. A moment goes by, Lena watching in anticipation as Kara relaxes back into the bed, inhaling the scent of the pillow.

Whew. Close one.

Making her way past the curtain that divides Kara’s bedroom and living room, Lena manages to locate most of her clothes from the night before, sans her underwear. The panicked brunette pulls what she can find on quickly, grabbing her dead phone and heels left sitting haphazardly by the door before exiting the apartment. Once in the elevator, Lena rubs at her throbbing forehead, eyes pressed tightly together with only one thought coursing through her mind,

What have I done?

__________________________

Cold.

There was a calming warmth next to her body last night that is absent when she awakes. Kara reaches her hand out, feeling the cool sheets on the empty side of the bed instead of a snuggly Lena.

She frowns, opening her eyes and searching for her companion. She scans the bedroom, empty; turns on her x-ray vision to see into the kitchen, empty; and spreads her hearing to the bathroom, empty.

Kara throws off the sheets, emerging from her room to look in the living room, seeing every trace of Lena missing. Her heart aches, thinking that Lena would leave so soon after what they’d done last night. Her thoughts spiral, quickly becoming negative. She tries to think logically, reasoning what she knows about her paramour with her actions last night and this morning.

Maybe last night wasn’t good for her.

But Lena would’ve said something in the moment, right?

I guess I’m not what she wants.

But Lena wouldn’t have kissed her, had sex with her, fallen asleep with her after if she didn’t feel something in return.

No. Lena’s always busy. Maybe she just had an emergency at L-Corp.

A plausible excuse indeed, yet it saddens Kara to think that last night didn’t mean enough to Lena for her to stay, or at least wake Kara up to say goodbye.

The hero decides that she has to see Lena today, to clarify what last night meant for them. The first order of business is to shower. Kara spends extra time under the water thinking about what to say and do around Lena when she’s sees her. She doesn’t want to come off too strong, or emotional, or too clingy.

Leaving the bathroom, Kara quickly dresses in an olive Henley, black slacks and brown loafers. She searches through her jewelry box for the Figaro link chain Lena bought her for her last birthday. Once the treasured piece is found, Kara exits her apartment, closing the door behind her and setting off to Noonans to grab a late breakfast before searching for Lena.

____________________________

Once at home, the brunette immediately goes to the bathroom, intent on washing the shame of her mistakes away. She sheds her clothes quickly, dropping them into the hamper before turning the water on in the shower. Turning around to grab a rag, Lena catches a glance of her body in the mirror.

Jesus.

Lena’s body was covered in love bites, some red, others purple, and a few already turning green with healing. If Lena hadn’t woken up where she did, she would be concerned about the logistics of how she got all these bruises. Her fair skin has always been prone to bruising, leaving her with one bruise or another at any given time.

The scientist pokes and prods at a few, relieved that they don’t seem to hurt. Honestly, she can’t believe Kara did this. The mild-mannered reporter may be made of steel, but she’s still the sweet, goofy, woman she met years ago in her office.

Lena stares at her reflection until the mirror is too foggy to look in. She gets into the shower, careful of the hot water.

I’m bruised enough as it is. I don’t need to add any burns to the mix.

Overall, her shower is quick, washing her body and hair thoroughly before stumbling through the doorway into her bedroom. Ruffling through the drawers, Lena pulls out a pair of panties and a shirt Kara left behind ages ago but Lena has failed to return. The oversized shirt is comfortable and still vaguely smells of Kara. Once dressed, Lena drops heavily into her bed, shuffling under the covers.

Her eyes water, and she finally gives into the urge to cry.

***********************************************

After buying a few too many pastries, Kara listens for Lena’s heart, finding it in the CEOs own apartment, but beating just a tad too fast. Kara zones in, making sure that Lena is okay. The lub-dub of the brunettes heart is quick, not in fear or distress, but in anxiety.

Kara forgoes the walk across town she planned to take, choosing to find an alley to fly off from instead. As her updated Super-suit materializes from her glasses, Kara wraps her breakfast in her cape, wanting to keep it warm and safe from the wind. It only takes Kara half a minute to reach Lena’s balcony across town. She touches down gently, deactivating her Super-suit while using her handprint to unlock the balcony door.

“Lena?” Kara calls, wanting to announce her presence.

There is no response.

Moving into the spacious living space, Kara sets the pastries on a tray in the oven to keep warm, more than familiar with the layout of Lena’s home after years of friendship.

She makes her way into her best friend’s bedroom, wanting to talk to Lena about their night together. When she knocks on the door, she receives no response.

“Lena? It’s me, Kara. Your, your best friend. Can I come in?” She receives no response.

“Lena? I know you’re in there. If you don’t say no, I’m going to come in.”

Kara waits for a no, but when she hears nothing through the door but sniffles, she enters the room. She immediately spies Lena under the covers, trembling softly. The blonde sits on the bed, pulling the covers back slowly, only for Lena to hide her face in her arms.

“Lee, what’s wrong?” she questions.

Lena only cries harder, soft sniffles devolving into full blown sobbing.

“Oh, Lee. C’mere,” Kara lifts Lena’s body to lay in her lap, cradling her close. One hands rubs Lena’s spine, noting the shirt she’s been missing for months, while the other cards through inky black hair.

Lena presses her face into a toned stomach, hiding her obvious tears from Kara.

“Why are you here?” she cries. Lena was convinced their relationship would be ruined. It makes no sense that Kara would be here, consoling her so sweetly after last night.

“What do you mean? I came to talk. I woke up and you were already gone,” Kara says. She’s embarrassed to have to explain further, but Lena’s reaction is confounding.

“I’m sorry, Lena. If it wasn’t good, or I did something you didn’t like, you can tell me. I would never want to ruin our friendship over something as trivial as—as sex.” she stutters.

The brunette releases a strangled sound, moving away from Kara’s lap. She sits among the island of pillows on the bed, arms circling her legs as if to protect herself from the self-imposed onslaught of emotion.

“Trivial?” she questions, fear and anxiety turning into a spark of anger.

“Ye—yeah? It’s just sex, if you want it to be. I would never let that ruin our friendship. You mean more to me than that.” Kara tries to explain.

“It’s not, it’s not trivial, Kara! It meant something to me,” Lena says ashamedly, head turning away to stare at the wall.

Kara is more confused now than she was mere moments ago. “So what’s wrong? I don’t understand. Why are you crying if it meant something to you?”

“Because—because everyone leaves after! No one sticks around after they’ve taken what they wanted from me. So I decided to leave, before you could,” Lena explains, voice watery.

“I was never going to leave, Lena. We were in my apartment for Rao’s sake!”

“You know what I mean! No one wants anything from me but my mind, my money, or my body. No one wants the Luthor bastard—“

“Hey! Don’t say that,” Kara starts.

“Why not? It’s true, it always has been.”

Lena looks downright pitiful. Beautiful eyes watery, face wet with tears and lips trembling as she tries to hold in her cries.

“I want you!”

“No you don’t!” Lena denies, voice rising hysterically.

“Lena, I would never use you like that. Is that what you think of me; that I’m some vulture?”

“I don’t know what to think! Everything happened so fast. One minute we were on the couch watching a movie and the next we were together in your bed. What more could you have wanted?” Lena questions hotly.

“You, Lena. Rao, I’ve always wanted you,” the blonde confides.

Lena denies her claim swiftly, harshly wiping her face with the back of her hand, “You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, Lee. Why would you sleep with me if you thought it wouldn’t mean anything?”

“I…I was weak. I’ve wanted you for so long. I couldn’t deny the chance to have you, even if knew it would break me the next day.”

Kara reaches for Lena’s arms, pulling them away from her body and towards her own. Using one hand to tilt Lena’s head up, the hero urges Lena to face her.

“Look at me, Lena.”

When emerald eyes meet her own, Kara smiles softly. “I told you last night; I love you. I didn’t lie to you. I love you, with every fiber of my being. You mean the world to me, Lena Luthor.”

Hearing a declaration she’s only dreamed of, the scientist surges forward, intent on kissing Kara as quickly as possible. Kara has to lean back, just enough so that Lena doesn’t crash into into the equivalent of a brick wall. Their kiss was short, but sweeter than pure sugarcane.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry for leaving. I was scared,” Lena says against Kara lips.

Kara pecks her lips once, twice, three times before she replies.

“It’s okay, Lee. I forgive you. I love you so much,” she repeats.

Lena is forming her reply when a loud growl erupts from the aliens stomach. The pair burst in laughter, thankful for the levity Kara’s stomach of steel has brought.

Lena edges off the bed, reaching a hand back to Kara once she stands. “Okay, let’s go feed the monster.”

Kara agrees quickly, grabbing the outstretched hand in her own. They’ve just passed through the doorway into the kitchen when Kara stops walking, pulling Lena back to herself by their connected hands.

“Kar, what—“

Kara cuts Lena off with a kiss. It’s deep and passionate, sweet like candy and right as rain. When Kara disconnects a few moments later, she lays a peck to Lena’s cheek before resuming their trek to the kitchen.

“C’mon, Lee! I’m starving.”

Lena just follows willingly, dazed and in love.

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara zorel #supergirl #kara danvers #kara x lena #headcanon #oneshot #supercorp oneshot #light angst #fluff #idiots in love #love confessions #happy ending

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caxde · 1 year

Text

dark honey | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, working on the new café next to Family Video and being best friends with Steve is your day to day, until feelings start to blossom one late night. (6.1k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

part 2

“Just remember, I can’t pick you up today” you let out, with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah, yeah I know, don’t worry.” Your little brother beamed up at you, his hair as wild as ever, even when it’s covered by his hat.

“‘Kay, be careful, have a good day Dust!” You scream out at the little boy running inside the old building. He just lifts his hand up, giving you a little thumbs up as he runs up to his friends.

You smile to yourself, the scene looks as though it had been picked out of a movie, the bright sun hitting you softly, the skies are blue and clear and you’ve got all of the day ahead of you. Well, not all of it was for you, you still had to go to work and whatnot, but as luck would have it, you absolutely adored your job.

The little coffee shop had opened up a month ago, and it’s not like you didn’t like stocking videos and spending time on Family Video, but truth be told, you could do with the change. Granted, it was next door, and it was slow at times, but it didn’t matter.

You parked on your usual spot, the music on your car lingering for a second as you enjoyed the last notes of the song escaping through the speakers.

Today, you were on your own, your coworker had opened for you, and was waiting for you to arrive so they could leave. They had begged you to cover for them so they could go to The University of Indianapolis and hopefully enroll onto one of their curses. Of course you agreed, you didn’t even need to know the reason, you always helped everyone, even if it meant that you would have to do a longer shift than usual, you didn’t really care as long as you felt useful.

So there you were now, the first rush was almost over, and the little coffee shop was settling now. Someone was enjoying a book quietly by the window, and two friends were having a catch up moment, chatting animatedly over their black coffee and croissants.

You turned your back to the door as you took advantage to clean a bit, the counter had some spills here and there, and your fingers seemed to be stained with the smell of the beans you had to grind.

And you knew he was there, feeling his stare on your back as he stood patiently on the other side of the counter. You felt yourself smiling before you turned to him.

It was his routine, you noticed. When you worked together he always came late and with a coffee stain on the corner of his mouth. Now he came five minutes before he had to clock in so he could say hello to you and have his coffee there, or to go if he was in a rush.

“Hi” You said, warmth in your voice.

“Hey” He said back, his head nodding at you as he pursed his lips together, his hair bouncing. “You doing okay?” You smiled as you always did before nodding at his questions. His voice was still hoarse from waking up.

You turn around, placing a to-go cup on the coffee machine, starting it as you turn back at him.

“I haven’t told you what I want yet.” He teased, the back of his hand scratching his eye, as if to get the rest of the sleep out.

“You always order the same.” You tell him, your cheeks burning from glee to get to see him, even for five minutes.

“I do not…” He scoffs, trying to sound offended, but his grin gives his happiness away.

You shake your head, turning back to finish his order, and he just stands there, fixated on the way your black shirt is tucked into your flared jeans, and how your hair falls away from your face, all falling gracefully behind you, effortless. He had once asked you how you did your hair, and when you told him that you were too lazy to do anything else that wasn’t air dry it, he was too embarrassed to tell you about his long ritual, so he lied and said he did that too. His mind was snapped away from the colourful memory as soon as he saw you smiling at him, his little to-go on your hands.

“There you go, Harrington.” You muttered as you placed it in front of him.

“Thanks, Henderson.” He smiled at you as he took the first sip.

You turned away, continuing to clean up, when you heard his exasperated sigh.

“I’m not letting you pay.” You remind him, as you look him over your shoulder, acting as if you’re too busy to actually do it.

“Someday, you’ll have to let me pay!” He insisted.

“Maybe, not today though, you’ll be late.” You tell him, nodding at the big clock on the right wall.

“Shit, you’re right.” He said, taking another rushed sip. “When are you getting off?” He asked, with the same grin he always had.

“Late, closing today.” You let him know. As he starts to walk to the door, you see how his face changes to one of concern.

“Do you want me to pick up Dustin?” You look at him, briefly before smiling at the ground in a nod, you know that he’s serious, and that he’d do it if you asked. He’d do anything really if you asked, though you didn’t know it yet.

“If you do, call him, I told him I couldn’t.” You say, gratitude obvious in your tone, his cheeks rise as he smiles at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got a break I can use.” He opens the door, and takes a second to look at you one more time. “Bye.”

“Bye Steve.” You say, more to yourself than him, as you see him rushing next door, given that his shift had started 2 minutes ago.

Even for April, it was unreasonably cold that night, and you were glad that your shift was coming to an end. You weren’t exhausted, but you’d lie to yourself if you said that you would do anything else that wasn’t going straight to your bed once you were home.

And obviously, it helped tremendously that Steve had come to sit at one of the back tables as he waited for you to finish, so you could both head home at the same time, as you used to do when you worked together.

Honestly, you didn’t work that much back then. Sure, when it was a weekend you had no time to spare, but in the weekdays you two were usually messing around, his favourite game to play with you was throwing you small crumpled up paper balls, and seeing as you failed miserably to catch most of them, and celebrating when you did. It was stupid, but it was always full of giggles. He liked the sound of your voice when he managed to make you laugh.

But now, Steve has found a new favourite past-time. He spent his time trying to find a movie you’d like, and pitching it to you when he came over his break, or when he walked to your car. He also enjoyed what he was doing now. Sitting down, acting as if he’s deep into a book, or magazine or whatever Robin had left behind, when really he was just looking at you. It was stupid and he was aware of it, but seeing you enjoy something you actually liked doing like making people coffee and teas and giving them pastries, seeing the way your voice would pitch up whenever a kid when to the counter and asked you for anything, and you’d smile deeply at them and make them laugh… He wasn’t sure why he liked doing this so much, he just let himself enjoy it, or rather, enjoy you.

It was empty now, except for him. The clock marked eight o’clock, so you walked over to the lights, shutting them off. He stood up and turned the little sign of the door, from we’re open to sorry! we’re closed. You gleaned at him as he rested against the door, waiting for you to finish up. One final wipe of the counter, the glass cabinet was spotless, the coffee grinder was clean and it all smelled good. You took off your apron and folded it, keeping neatly for tomorrow.

You smiled as you relaxed your shoulders, happy to be done, you looked at him, while he opened the door for you, and he waited beside you as you closed. You started walking, as he started talking about a new movie that had just arrived, and how you will definitely like this one, you grined up at him, as you shaked up a shiver out of your body. He stopped immediately.

“You’re shivering?” He asked, looking down at you, his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket.

“It’s alright, I’ll get in the car and I’ll warm up.” You try to brush it off, but you see how his frown appears, and you start shaking your head no, when you see him take his hands out. “Steve, my car’s right there, it’s okay.” You try to negotiate with him, to no avail, he had already made a decision on his mind.

“You always get sick.” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, and playfully pushing you to continue walking.

“Thanks.” you say, your voice quieter than usual.

You’re unsure why, but something in you warms up by that. Is it the fact that he knows you well enough to know that you’re easily sick? Or is it how he had bent down ever so slightly and placed the jacket carefully over you? You’re not sure and you don’t care, you’re just grateful he’s there, and that you can spend some more time with him.

Maybe that’s why you’re not really paying attention anymore.

Maybe you’re just too focused on the review of the movie he desperately wants you to see, or maybe it's the way his profile looks with the street lights shining behind him. However, you’re glad he’s there.

And maybe that's why you don’t realise the way your foot had bent over a rock that you hadn’t seen. Not only did you now have a sprained ankle, but you almost fell to the ground. If it weren’t for him. And the way his hand had reached out for you, and how his arm had wrapped around your waist in one smooth swoop.

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating fast because you thought you were falling, or because Steve was holding you close.

And he wasn’t sure either.

He just knew that he thought you were going to hurt yourself, so he needed to make sure you didn’t, so he just grabbed you as close and as tight as he could. His hand was on your waist, and for some reason he was the one short of breath.

His eyes looked deep into yours, as your chest raised up and down faster than before, he gave you a half smile, as he helped you to your feet again. Now you were grateful the sun was going down, since you could feel the burning on your cheeks, growing pink by the second.

His hand lingered on the small of your back for a moment too long as he made sure you could stand up okay on your own.

“Are you okay?” He said, his voice hardly above a whisper, still looking attentively at you.

You can’t help but laugh a bit, maybe nervously, maybe because you don’t really know what to say.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking up at him, his brown eyes looking at you, you can see the worry wash away from them as you smile at him. “Good catch.”

That makes him laugh and you know that everything is fine now.

But you still don’t understand why his touch has left your skin burning, or why you can’t seem to fall asleep once you're on your bed, why every time you close your eyes you see his eyes looking deeply into yours, and you remember his touch.

“You’ll pick me up today?” Dustin asked, sitting on the passenger sit, with his usual up-beat tone.

“Mmh, yeah.” You replayed lazily, sleep still present on you.

“You shouldn’t be driving if you’re still asleep.” He remarked, at witch you scoffed, head tilting a bit as you focused on the red light.

“You’re not driving.” You glanced at him, his mischievous grin on his face made you laugh at his direction.

“Soon enough.” He chirped. You notice how his eyes focus up for a second, as a thought seems to worry him.

“Spit it out Dustin.” You tell him, as the light changes from red to green.

“Can my friends come today?” YOu scrunch your eyebrows in response, not really understanding why he was asking you.

“Did you ask mom?”

“Mom’s going away with Hank.” You chuckle at him, and the aversion he seemed to have with the older man.

“Hot Hank?” You tease him, as you see his face scrunching up at your words.

“Eww. You’re disgusting!”

“Come on! Mom’s got a hot boyfriend” You tell him, closing distance with the school now.

“Gross.” He mutters as he hears you laugh, your right hand brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?”

“What?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked at you, fear and curiosity on his face.

“Dusty, I do not.” You tell him, as you fail to park your car for the first time.

“But you like someone?” He kept pushing for an answer, and if you were honest, your rosy cheeks didn’t exactly help you right now.

“Oh yes, his name is David, he’s a singer from britain…” you begin to mock him, in an attempt to distract him.

“Okay, okay… So can they come?” He asks you, his eyes looking at you through his baseball cap.

“Yeah, sure. Do you need anything from the store?” You ask as you celebrate that you have finally parked the car successfully.

“Just some snacks and stuff like that.”

“Okay kid, am I taking anyone else home later?”

“Oh, I dunno.” You nodded at him, as he opened the door, running away as he does every morning, leaving you with an upside down smile.

When Dustin had asked if his friends could come over, you expected four high schoolers squatting on your couch. What you didn’t really expect was a party of seven boys invading your living room, pulling chairs together, surrounding the dining table with papers scattered, dice, figurines, and everything that had the word nerd written all over them. Eddie had mouthed a sorry at you as soon as he had crossed the door, seeing you shocked at the amount of people that were now in your home, completely ruining your plan to just sit on your couch and enjoy your free afternoon, catching in some of the movies that Steve had insisted that you watch.

However, you were grateful you had bought snacks and everything Dustin had suggested. You weren’t aware of just how hungry they get.

You decided that hiding in the kitchen might be your best shot, if you wanted some peace and quiet. You were bored out of your mind, and didn’t really know what to do, so you did what you always did, you scavenged around your cabinets to see what you could find, some activity that would distract you long enough.

You're unaware of your surroundings once you’ve decided to start baking. You had some leftover flour, some brown sugar and a little packet of yeast, you knew you could make something with that. You walked to your fridge, where some eggs, vanilla extract and chocolate was there. Okay then, you think to yourself, chocolate cookies it is.

You were so deep in thought that you jumped when you saw him there all of a sudden. Bouncing a bit once you find him there, resting on the side of your kitchen door.

“Shit.” You mutter, looking at the ground, and being relieved that you didn’t drop the egg.

“Sorry.” Steve said in a soft-spoken voice, raising his hands in an apologetic movement.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you here.” You let him know, closing distance with the counter, dropping the rest of the ingredients.

“Well if I’m not welcome I’ll just go” You know he’s teasing you, that Steve Harrington smirk gave him away, and your soft smile made his shoulders drop.

“I didn’t know you were in Hellfire.” You tell him, as you search for the measuring cup, avoiding his eye contact.

“I’m not”

“Oh, then… What are you doing here?”

What was he doing here? If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to come over and spend time with you, he missed you. He kept telling himself that you're his friend, and that that’s all there is, but deep down, he knew that his fingertips still burned every time he thought about how close you two were a week ago, and how he had held you tight and close.

“You weren’t working, so I guessed you uh… Where home?” He seemed to ask it more to himself than you, as you look over at him, you see how he’s scratching the back of his neck nervously. You knew him well enough, but refrained from telling him anything else, nodding at him with a soft smile.

“Well I’m here so…” You pointed at the little chair you had laying about, so he could sit beside you. Making him shorter once he sat down, so he was the one looking up at you now.

“So, what are we baking?” He chirped, which made you giggle.

“You’re banned from baking Harrington.” You teased him, as you pointed at him with the empty measuring cup, the flour and sugar already in the bowl.

“I only burned one cake!” He tried to argue, his eyebrows raised.

“And that’s one too many!” You rebutted, laughing animatedly. He seemed to melt, as he hid his head behind his hands, stifling his own laugh. “You can be my sous chef.”

“Deal.”

You nod as you start biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t been this close with Steve since the failed fall, and you could feel how the hairs of your arms raised every time his body came a bit too close.

And it was confusing.

You had him chopping up some of the chocolate bar, and when his body pressed into yours to dunk the small pieces into the sweet mixture, you felt it again, that shortness of breath, that electricity, and that tingling, it was there, contaminating the air.

Steve felt it too, but in his defense, he had never been able to see your eyes from that distance, and he had not appreciated enough how your hands were delicate and skilled at everything they did.

The cookies were now formed and in the oven, and you felt a new sense of achievement. You smiled deeply at him. Steve looked down at you with his eyes deeply focused on the way your lips curved, he raised his hand and you high fived it instinctively, what he did later however you didn’t mind or were going to stop it.

Even Steve didn’t know why his fingers decided to tangle with yours, or why his eyes were locked into them, feeling how soft your skin was, and enjoying your touch, the softness of it. They fitted, he taught, like a puzzle that had just been completed. He also liked that your thumb had begun a short pattern on the back of his hand, caressing him a bit. And if he wasn’t so focused on looking at your intertwined hands, he might have noticed how your cheeks were now warm and pinkish now.

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie’s voice coming into the kitchen, and you both let go all of a sudden, both embarrassed at the moment you had just shared.

“Hey, M” you replayed, your voice shaking ever so slightly, just enough for Steve to notice and for him to grin at the ground. “What’s up?”

“Um-” He took a moment, a second really to let his eyes wander between the both of you, as you nervously scratched your forehead with your index finger. “We’re almost done with the campaign.” He lets you know. “And we’re playing tonight at the Hideout, wondering if you wanted to come?”

“Oh sure Eddie, I’ll be ready.” You blurb out, trying to get him to leave, not really thinking of the boy next to you, nor registering the way he was now biting the inside of his cheek trying not to blurt out a very loud what?

“Great.” He smirks, as he taps away at the door frame, his rings clinging at the touch. “Oh, the cookies smell great by the way.” He says as he rushes back to the living room.

“Thank you, M.”

“Guess I’ll go now.” Steve mutters, and you squint at him, not understanding why he sounds hurt.

“What-Why?” You're even more confused now, seeing that he also looks hurt.

“I don’t feel like going to The Hideout, and seeing you looking at Eddie all night long.” He scoffs, you immediately roll your eyes, and shake your head ever so slightly.

“What are you on about Steve?” You’re starting to get upset at him, not really following him.

“Nothing, I just rather stay home tonight, okay?” He’s cold now, and you’re in shock. Not really understanding or following what’s going on.

“Oh, uhm… okay?” You half ask as you see him head to the door. Staying hopeful. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

It’s not that you were mad. Or confused.

Honestly, you were just uncomfortable.

You hadn’t taken time to process anything that had happened in such a short time, though you suppose it hadn’t been that short.

You had known Steve ever since you started middle school. You had been close friends, best friends even for as long as you can remember, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through your veins, or the way he had left all of a sudden after holding your hand so softly, but something was clear in your head now, you were sure you liked him.

To make matters worse, Eddie had pointed it out on the ride here.

He told you that he didn’t know Steve for that long, but that he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him so shy around anyone but you. You scoffed it off, and told him to fuck off.

But now that you were four beers deep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid smile. You had been sitting down at the bar for some time, and the friendly bartender was keeping you company, he had told you that Corroded Coffin was running late, and that they wouldn't probably play for another hour.

You weren’t sure you could wait that long, but then again, Eddie had been your ride.

“Hey…” Eddie’s voice was coming from behind you, and you turned around slowly, in a faze.

“Eddie” You chirped, looking at him, you realised that the alcohol had finally taken over your body, so you were more giggly than usual.

“I’m sorry” He muttered, his head slightly tilted so his bangs were out of the way. “I think we’ll play later than we thought.”

“S’fine” You blabbered, as you moved your hand at him, bumping his chest in a playful manner. “Maybe I’ll go home, that’s fine?” He nodded, with a laugh.

“You’ll be hungover tomorrow.” He joked, nudging you back.

“Mmh, you bet.” You jumped from your stool until you reached the ground. “Bye Edds!” you said, heading for the exit.

“Wait, you’ve got someone to drive you home?” You shook your head no. “It’s raining, like a lot, and you live so far away…” He tried to explain to you, slowly, knowing that your brain was working slower than usual.

“I’ll take a call, just second.” You turn around, the friendly bartender already pointing you at the direction of the little telephone post on the beat up wall. “Aw, thanks.”

Once you had the handset on your hand, and you were dialing the number, you began biting the inside of your cheek, you were half ashamed that his number had popped out so fast into your mind. You hoped he didn’t mind.

“He-Hello?” He sounded half asleep, his voice croaky and soft.

“ ‘m sorry.” You let out.

“Shit, are you okay?” You could feel the panic in his voice, you didn’t want him to worry.

“Yeah, I just, I don’t wanna be here anymore, and I… yours’s the only number I remember.” You were slurring your words together now.

“Are you still in The Hideout?” He asked, trying to remain calm.

“Mmmh.” You muttered, his voice seemed to belong there, right by your ear.

“I’ll be there in no time ‘kay?”

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice now beginning to break, feeling remorse and anxious for making him worry, for having called him. “I just..-”

“I know, just stay there, I’m coming to get you okay, honey?” Honey

“M’kay.”

You could only hear the cut out line now through the receiver, but it still rang on your ears. honey honey honey.

As soon as he had heard your voice on the receiver his heart had stopped for a second, worry leaked into his body. Maybe it was irrational, because he knew you were safe regardless. But for some reason, knowing wasn’t enough, he needed to make sure, he needed to see you and see that you weren’t too far gone.

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t realise that he has sprinted out of his house with his old checkered pajama pants, and his faded out Hawkins High shirt. That he has mismatched socks and his shoes aren’t all the way in, with his heel out. He only realises the state that he’s in once he tries to open the car, his keys jingling on his hands, and his socks now damp from the wet pavement that the pouring rain has left, he doesn’t care that his hair is wet, or that his shirt is colder now. Your voice is the only thing he’s got on his mind, how you sounded shy and uncomfortable, how you mumbled out words in your most sincere tone.

How he had to cut you off before you told him something you didn’t mean.

How he hated that he wanted to tell you something he might regret.

It was hopeless.

As soon as he arrived at The Hideout, and saw you out against the wall, covered from the rain he knew, deep down, that his feelings for you had changed. His jaw unclentched, his shoulders relaxed, and his breathing was back to normal. He was calm once he saw you, and your eyes seemed brighter once you realise he was there.

With his brown hair wet, sticking to his face, but the kindest look in the way he looked at you, you rushed inside the car, relived that he camed, and thankful for the warmth that escaped the ventilation system from his BMW.

Your cheeks have been hurting for a while. Warmth in them.

Steve had drove you home, and then back to his when you told him you didn’t want to go back home tonight.

You hadn’t said anything, and he already had some old spare gym shorts and a sweatshirt out for you.

“Here.” You’re unsure you’ve ever heard his voice that soft.

Your hand travels up to meet his, that same electricity growing bigger between you, from the tip of his finger that touched the back of your hand, to your whole entire body as you looked at him through your eyelashes. His eyes seemed bigger, and his lips pinker.

“Uh, I-”

“You can take a shower… I’ll uh…” He’s lost once again, his heart beating faster than ever before.

You find yourself not really speaking. You nod at him with some confusion in your mind. The hot shower helps in a way.

Your body is relaxed at last, but your mind still feels like it needs to be ironed out. You’re pretty sure you know why this is happening, but you’re scared to even think of it, because if it is true you’ll just complicate it all. If you really think that your skin tingles every time he brushes it, you’ll have to admit to yourself it is because you really want him to hold you tightly, and that you’re curious as to the way his chest looks under his shirt, and that you wonder how his lips would feel against your own skin.

It all smelled like him. The expensive shampoo he had made your hair feel softer, and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would feel to run your fingers through his, as you brush yours out. His sweatshirt, his towels, it made you dizzy for the first time.

But coming back to the kitchen and seeing him cooking up something for you, while he hummed some song you didn’t quite understand, almost took your breath away. You could feel how your lips curled upwards, and how your cheeks started to warm up again.

You're back in a daze, and it might be him coming to pick you up, or maybe it’s him taking care of you, or actually it’s what you’ve come to realise. You’re falling for him.

It doesn’t really matter, because you can always blame the alcohol, so you just approach him, and hug him tightly from behind.

Your hands around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, your face buried into him, breathing him in.

His heart skips a beat as soon as he feels your hands around him. He’s beaming, and his smile deepens when he feels your thumb rubbing his stomach in a soft motion. It gets worse when he feels the way you nuzzle your face into his back, a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Hey” He whispered, afraid that if he moved you’d pull away.

“Hi” You answered, speaking just as softly as he did. “What’re you doing?” You mumbled against his skin, moving a bit so he could actually hear you.

“Oh- Uhm… I just, I thought that you’d be kinnda hungry so…” You can’t help yourself from giggling, your head poking out, arms still around him.

“Mac and Cheese?” You ask, your voice higher in pitch, once you see the empty Kraft dinner box laying on the counter.

“Well, I’m not that good at cooking, but this is easy enough to make.” He tries to convince you as he keeps stirring the pot.

He finally turns around, his head looking down at you. The dim light of the kitchen makes his eyes have the colour of dark honey, and you’re close enough to him to count his beauty marks if you wanted to. You realise you’re still holding him, you don’t want to pull away, and he doesn’t want you to either. Your breath shortens when you see his hand approaching your face, placing a strand of damp hair behind your ear, you can’t help yourself.

“You’re pretty.” You tell him, voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, and he seems to forget that he’s supposed to keep stirring the pot for a second.

He knows you’re not lying. But it doesn’t stop him from not believing you.

“You’re drunk.” He replies, hiding a nervous laugh. But it stays with him. pretty.

“And you’re still pretty.” You let out in a short laugh. He shakes his head with a soft smile, turning back to the stove as he finishes what he was doing.

You had realised it before, but he really is beautiful. Sure, handsome could also be used, but the word pretty seemed to fit him better. Steve’s soft and kind, and warm. Boys that are handsome are always cold and rough and mean.

“Eat up, Honey.” He whispers as he hands you a hot plate, his hand brushing yours as you grab it.

There it was again, honey.

Every time this word leaves his lips it sounds sweet, and calming, and full of care for you.

“You should have some too, s’good.” You let out as soon as you try it. He just giggles and nods, serving a plate for himself.

You eat quietly, stealing glances from time to time. Smiling when you catch the other staring, and giggling while asking a soft what. It didn’t matter, and it didn’t need to be said, but it was clear that both of you were starting to change, Steve had it clear in his mind. He has absolutely fallen for you.

You, on the other hand, didn’t feel drunk anymore, the beers had washed away a long time ago, and you felt in an absolute daze every time you look over at him, you know that this feeling in your chest of vertigo and excitement was just a sign, a warning one, a i could love you if you let me kind of feeling that you weren’t sure you could verbalize.

It comes out when you have to go to sleep.

You had slept in his bed a hundred times before, countless sleepovers with and without Robin where you shared that space, but for some reason, both of you knew this was different.

You always ask him to hug you until you fall asleep, but you had never felt your chest about to burst before asking. And even if your voice shakes a little, you manage to ask him, softly.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you hug me?” He nods as soon as he hears your question.

He pulls his body closer to yours, opening his arms so you’ll rest your head on his chest. He waits for your leg to land above his waist, pulling him in as you always have done, so he can pull you in. Only this time, every caress, every touch that your skin makes with his seem to ignite another part of his body, goosebumps appearing. His hands get buried in your hair, and your fingers get stuck doodling something on his chest.

“Did you use my shampoo?” He lets out with a soft laugh as soon as the familiar scent hits his nose.

“Yeah, fabregé… Didn’t know you were this fancy.” You tease him, feeling how his heart beats, a soft lullaby.

“Yeah well… You haven’t seen the Farrah Fawcet hair spray.” He mumbles, playing with your hair. He knew that would make you chuckle, and he smiles when he hears the noise escaping from your lips, wondering how you sound in other circumstances.

“Farrah Fawcet?” You move your head up to look at him, a soft grin on his lips.

“Yeah.” He nods as he says. The hand that was in your hair is now holding your face, his thumb stroking your jawline softly, playing with your bottom lip when it comes into contact.

You feel how fast his heart is beating, which can only mean that he can tell how loud yours is. He's lost in your eyes, you're lost in his lips.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

You need a second longer to take him in for a second, he looked angelic with the street lights that creeped from his window. And you’re sure your heart had just skipped a beat.

“I really want to kiss you.” You tell him.

“I really want to kiss you too.” He reassures you, his eyes twinkling with sincerity. “But you’re drunk.”

“ ‘m not.” You try to plea, but deep down, you know he’s right.

You feel his hand pulling you closer to him, and his lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead. He stays like that, enjoying you, taking it all in, trying to talk even with a knot in his throat.

“If you wake up tomorrow and you still want me to kiss you, I will.” He whispers.

You nod, pulling away enough so you could look at him. You’re unsure as to why he’s being so careful around you.

“Steve?” A calm sleepy tone left your voice.

“Honey?” He asked as you rested your head in his chest again, his hand still on the crook of your neck.

“Will you kiss me tomorrow?”

“I’ll kiss you anytime you ask me to.”

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3 part 2

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acowardinmordor · 1 year

Text

You Left Me - You Miss Me - 4

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Hi, time for more, arguably making things better, but also arguably making things much worse.

----

There was a diner a block and a half from their apartment. Steve found it when the sky opened up during his jog one morning. Snow, he could have handled, he was dressed for it. Slushy sleet mixed with hail was another matter. He ducked inside to hide until it passed, chatted with the owner for a bit, and brought Robin with him the next day because they had an amazing spread of waffle toppings, including crumbled bacon, and Steve knew she’d go crazy about it.

He was correct, and it was their go to spot, not just for breakfast.

At the end of January, Rebecca sat down to join them, and handed Steve an application.

Steve was already working at a JC Penny in the stock room, and picked up a few hours at a roller rink filling in when someone called out. They had enough money to live. Not decadently, but they could cover all their bills, and keep gas in the car, and buy supplies for Robin’s classes.

“Uh, Rebecca, I’m- thank you? But. My memory sucks, and my hearing isn’t great, and if someone starts getting rude, I’m going to get rude back to them, and --”

“This is a diner, hun,” she stopped him, “You write the orders down, you can always tell someone to say it again, and the fact you can shut down anyone that gives you lip is why I think you’ll be good at it. Like I said, it’s a diner. We don’t have to be all sunshine and daisies here.”

“I’m working at another--”

“Over at the mall and the rink, I know. And I know you’re free Monday through Wednesday mornings. And,” she stressed, “staff gets free meals and first dibs on the day olds.”

“Dingus!" Robin gasped and grabbed his arm. "Do it, do it. Stevie. Please, oh my god, please, you have to take it. You can bring me the brioche buns. And that apple butter. And that thing with the nuts! Steeevveee, don’t you love your soulmate? Please? I cou--”

So Steve took the job, and worked a few mornings a week. By the third week of February, he stopped feeling like he was going to fuck up any second. He understood why Rebecca liked his ability to get bitchy in the face of difficult customers, and he and Robin had cupboards well stocked with random take homes.

He liked it. Starting at five in the morning took some getting used to, but he was done by one, and traded off with a middle aged mom named Susan after the lunch rush settled down. Was it a ton of money? No. But he got more tips than he expected to, and the brioche really was delicious.

The last week of February, he was working alone on a Tuesday, at the start of the lunch rush, expecting Susan to arrive soon, and an easy day.

“Be with you in a minute,” he called to whoever just came inside, bussing half a dozen empty plates from table two after dropping off more creamer at table four. He looped back, ducking behind the counter to put the plates on the pass through for Nick to grab.

He dropped the entire stack before he got there.

His hands clenched down, his muscles locked, and even though it should have made him hold harder, everything slipped, and either shattered on the tiles or banged into his feet.

Jim Hopper winced from his seat at the counter. “Sorry, kid.”

The couple of other diners glanced up to check on him, and John looked around the window from the kitchen. Steve didn’t move. Couldn't. Could barely breathe.

“Is it back?”

“No.”

His exhale shook out of him before he shoved down the panic.

“Then whatever this is can wait.”

“I’m just here to talk.”

“And I said it can wait.”

He swept up the broken dishes, shrugged off John’s silent offer to throw Hopper out, and reminded himself there was no reason to think that the Upside Down was back. That meant this was going to be more awkward and less dangerous, and he was going to hate it, but it was still the better version of the day.

“What’ll you have?”

“Kid, I’m here to talk cause I didn’t think you’d want me at your place.”

“And I’m at work, and this is a diner, so what’ll you have?”

“Steve--”

“I’ll bring you coffee. I’m not talking about this while I’m working.”

“Coffee’s good. When are you off?”

Steve gave his bitchiest smile, didn’t answer, and went to seat the couple that just walked in.

The lunch rush was a mercy. Susan handled Hopper, and gave him the iciest service anyone had ever gotten under that roof. Hopper took it gracefully, but he didn’t shift, or push, or give any indication that he wasn’t willing to sit there til midnight if he had to.

Normally, Steve would get some lunch to go and head home. If the weather was bad, he ate at the booth in the corner to wait it out. With the way his stomach was twisting, unable to separate Hopper from what his arrival could mean, he wasn’t going to keep food down. He filled a glass of water, then silently gestured Hop to follow.

“Good to see you, Steve,” he said when they sat. “You and Robin doing okay up here?”

“We’re fine. Why are you here? If it isn’t something to do with, you know, then why are you here?”

“Maybe I just came up to check on you.”

“Did you?” Steve snorted into his drink when that question made Hopper’s face twist up. “So what is this?”

“I am here to check on you. There’s something else, but I came here because I’m checking on you. Me and you weren’t all that close, but you had Mrs Buckley give me your info so I’d know where you were.”

“Yeah, in case of an emergency. And you said there wasn’t any emergency. Plus, you had my phone number, so you could have called, which would be way less weird than showing up while I’m at work, you know?”

Hopper scratched at his cheek. “It’s not an emergency compared to all the reasons you wanted me to be able to find you, but if you ask those kids, this may as well be the end of the world again.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Yeah, well. Henderson is gonna get himself arrested if he keeps trying to steal the mail and find something addressed to you. Max keeps pushing El to try and find you. The only reason they haven’t gone completely crazy is because of the Buckleys telling them that you’re fine. She gave me your address and number, and she talked for a little bit about the kids.”

Steve smiled at that. Mrs Buckley had never talked a ‘little bit’ about anything in her life. Either she was holding the line on being rude to anyone that might bother them, or Hop was pretending he hadn’t listened to a solid hour of rambling.

“Still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“Want to ask if I can -- shit, I don’t know. I can route mail back and forth so they never have your address or something. I’d rather give them your info so I don’t have to be involved, but I already know you won’t agree to that.”

Steve ignored the pause that Hopper left there. Conversation and good manners said he should concede to something so he wouldn’t inconvenience the man too much. The last month with Robin supporting his choice kept his mouth shut. She’d be pissed at him if he folded, and worse, she’d help him get through all the pain it caused if he did talk to the kids again. Then he’d feel guilty and sad.

“Alright,” Hopper grumbled, “Didn’t think you would, but you know how those kids can be. Can’t fault me for trying.”

“So, we’re done? You sat here all this time just to talk for three minutes?”

“Almost.”

“So….” At least Steve could enjoy the fact that neither of them were enjoying this. Hopper winced a bit before he spoke.

“I didn’t tell any of the kids I was coming up to see you. None of them knew, and none of them are gonna know. Didn’t even tell Joyce why, just that I was driving up to Indy. Already had a plan in case they tried to tail me up here. So, had a surprise this morning when I got to my truck. it might change your answer.”

“Didn’t know you were so dramatic about stuff.”

“Side effect of two hours with that surprise, I guess. Eddie Munson came up with me.”

Any of the kids would have hurt.

Henderson might have made him cry.

Eddie Munson? That didn’t make sense.

They weren’t friends, never had been. The Upside Down meant they were connected, but they were never more than acquaintances, even when Steve was desperately trying to keep them all close. Sure, he’d taken over as the chauffeur for the kids, and everyone’s new best friend, but that didn’t explain why he’d bother to come up to talk to Steve.

“What the hell? Why?”

“He asked.”

“And you said yes.”

“He said please.”

That was not the whole story. There was something getting skipped over, left out. Hopper tolerated Munson, but he wouldn’t do him a favor if there wasn’t some kind of monster involved.

“Wait, you’ve been here for two hours.”

“Yep.”

“Did you just leave him in your truck this whole time? That front came through overnight. The high is thirty four today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hopper said flatly. “He told me he wanted to come up so he could talk to you. Told me a little bit about why. And I said yes and I let him come, but I told him that I was gonna talk to you first. If you said no, he was gonna stay in that seat clear back to Hawkins, and keep his mouth shut about this whole thing.”

“How’d he know what you were doing?”

“No clue.”

“What does he want to talk about?”

“Not gonna say it for him.” Hopper shifted towards the edge of the booth. “So, want me to tell him to buckle back up, or tell him to get his ass in here?”

A quick consult with the imaginary Robin in his head left him just as confused, but curious as hell. He agreed, and fidgeted with a napkin, struggling to think of any reason why Eddie Munson would want to talk to him, or what the hell he said that the kids hadn’t that convinced Hopper to drive him up.

Stuck in his head, Steve jumped when a mess of a man in denim and leather slid shivering into the seat opposite. The scars on his face and hands were less vivid than they were last time they saw each other, but they still worked as a thermometer. Steve's did the same.

“Why the hell were you sitting in the cold, man?”

Eddie blinked, and froze where he was rubbing his hands together trying to get feeling back. “Hopper took the keys.”

Steve’s turn to blink. This was the guy taking care of his kids.

“Susan?” He called, gesturing for two when she lifted the coffee carafe in a question.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Dude, I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here or why you care or what the hell is happening, but I’m not gonna let you sit there shaking cause you’re a dumbass who doesn’t know what gloves are.”

Steve watched packet after packet of sugar pour into Eddie’s, while he stirred a splash of half and half into his own cup. Eddie took a gulp, hissed at the heat, and clutched at the mug, eyes glued to the nicked surface of the table.

“I’m sorry.”

“For rotting your teeth out? That’s your choice, Munson.”

“No,” Eddie insisted, voice hoarse, “I’m sorry about the kids.”

Steve took a breath, took a sip, took another breath. “Look, man, that’s not on you. You play D&D with them, and you like all their nerdy shit. I was -- They grew up. We got through everything, all of that, we won, and they grew up. It’s not your fault that they like you more than they liked me. So, thanks, I guess, but--”

“Steve. No. They didn’t. They -- those kids did not suddenly grow up and decide they didn’t like you anymore. You are their favorite person anywhere, ever, you will be for the rest of eternity, and they don’t understand why no one will tell them how to reach you. They put on a really good show about being mad about it, but, come on, you know what they’re like. They want to apologize cause they know they hurt you, and they want to fix it, and just, you gotta let them try, Steve. You gotta let them talk to you. They miss you so fucking much.”

“Look, I know how they get, and I know how dramatic they are, but it’s still not your fault--”

“It is. Steve. It is my fault. That’s - That’s why you have to talk to them. Cause they didn’t grow up and get over you or decide they didn’t care about you. Those kids are crazy about you, and they never stopped, and they’re hurt right now cause they don’t understand why you left them, and you gotta fix it with them, please.”

Something pinged weird in his ear when he heard the way Munson’s voice cracked. Not just worry, not just helping, not just caring about the kids. Guilt. He was taking the blame for it, even though that didn’t make any sense. The kids were - brats, gremlins, terrors, the most stubborn people he’d ever met, and he knew Nancy Wheeler. If they wanted to be around him, they would be around him.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, or anyone’s fault. It hurt like hell, and Steve wished it wasn’t true, but this was just life. Kids grew up, their interests moved. Friendships changed and ended.

But that crack of guilt…

“How is it your fault and not theirs that they stopped wanting to ever see me?”

Eddie’s hands stopped shaking from the cold before he got the coffee.

His hands were shaking again.

Trembled in the time between Steve asking, and Eddie managing to respond.

“I, uh, I asked them to.”

----

Don't be too mad at him yet. He has a lot more to say.

Part Five >>>

#You Left Me - You Miss Me #my writing #steddie eventually #focus on the eventually today

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