#i watched him hug his security?/whoever he was with before they left

[black-swan-slaps]

Wanted to share Jimin dancing tonight.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｄｅｌｉｃａｔｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: body piercer!seungmin x chubby!fem!shopassistant!reader (w/ appearances by tattoo artist!stray kids)

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Summary: For the longest time you've dreamed of getting your belly button pierced but you always stop yourself, too shy about your weight to get it done. While working your usual shift at the tattoo shop the resident piercer offers to do it for you, with a bit of meddling from your best friend Changbin, though it turns out that he wants to give you a little or a lot more than just a piercing.

♡ Word Count: 4.7k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader has some insecurities about her weight, piercings (of course), you're getting your belly button pierced babe so yas there's a needle, strong language, kissing, body worship, unprotected sex, Seungmin has a lil dom moment, grinding, fingering, mirror sex, ass slapping, oral sex (f receiving), pet names (good girl), and otherwise fluffiness.

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this as a comfort fic for anyone out there who may be struggling with a bad body image day or who might feel like sometimes that they aren't thin enough to wear/do what they want or get the person that they want. My point being that you're a badass bitch who can get whoever and do whatever. If anyone tells you differently they can eat dirt and tell them I said so, babes - xoxo

Saturday nights at the shop are always your favorite. It’s a little too loud, a little too hectic, but that’s the way you like it. On nights like these you never know who’s gonna step in from the glow of the neon signs and throw you for a loop.

Like the couple making out on one of the couches while they wait their turn to get matching inner lip tattoos. A decision they totally won’t regret when their two week long romance crashes and burns.

Or people like the guy on the phone insisting he come in for a tattoo you know for a fact all of your boys would die before they took on. 

“Look, man, I’m not judging you,” you say, judging him to the fullest extent, “It’s just that most of my guys aren’t gonna tattoo your di—”

“Delivery!” a friendly voice rings out in the lobby.

The front door dings, announcing the arrival of your usual delivery girl. She’s short and bubbly with a bag hooked in each of her wrists, filled to the brim with food. In a hurry as always, she sets them down on the desk in front of you and flashes a sweet smile before scurrying off to her next delivery. You respond with one of your own, hopping off the phone just in time to shout, “Have a good night!”

Without missing a beat, you scoop the bags up and head down the hallway off to your left. Bobbing your head along to the rock music blasting from the speakers overhead, you make your way to the main floor where tattoo guns are buzzing away. 

“Food’s here!” you announce but it’s too late. You’ve already been spotted and Jeongin’s swiping the bag from your right hand before you can dodge him. 

“Ooh, what’s for dinner?” he asks, already hard at work cruising through tonight’s options. 

“What?” Felix yells from the far side of the room. He’s hunched over his table, focused on finishing a tattoo of a butterfly on the ankle of a girl who’s much more interested in him than a tattoo. 

“She said food’s here!” Jeongin mumbles through a mouthful of food. He makes it a few steps back towards his station, hugging the bag like a newborn baby he’ll protect with his life, before Hyunjin intercepts him.

“Give it here!” Hyunjin demands, almost wrestling a stubborn Jeongin for the bag. 

You feel a tugging at the other bag and by the time you turn to see who it is, Minho’s already passing by with Chan, the bag secured in his hand.

Minho digs through it, frowning, “Fuck, they forgot my sauce again.”

“Christopher, can you control your children before they scare off our customers?” you shout after Chan as he grabs his food and settles down at his station. 

Chan leans back in his chair, kicking his feet up. Checking his watch, he grins, “Can’t sorry. I’m on break.”

You roll your eyes, letting out a huff of frustration. Sometimes the real headache isn’t the weird customers, it’s the guys you work for, but you love them so if there ever were a headache you could tolerate this would be it. 

Turning to head back up front, you stop dead in your tracks when you realize that one of the first people to swarm you for dinner hardly looked your way. Backtracking you spot the stray, Seo Changbin, locked in on an intricate chest tattoo and Han laying across his table, whining like this tattoo wasn’t his idea to begin with. 

You skip over to Changbin’s station, quietly admiring the piece over his shoulder. It’s a compass. Highly detailed. Clean lines. The same flawless work you always expect of him. 

“Aah, you’re trying to kill me” Han says, turning to you for sympathy, “He’s trying to kill me.”

Changbin groans, paying him no mind. “Hey, I wouldn’t have agreed to do this if I knew you’d be such a baby about it. 

Han pouts, poking his lip out, “I am not a baby.”

You giggle, shifting to the other side of the table to get a better look. 

“You are such a baby” you tease, poking his lip back in, “It looks really good. Totally worth the pa—oh my god. When did you get that?”

Your gaze drifts from the tattoo and down Han’s torso where shiny, stainless steel jewelry adorns his belly button. 

“A week ago, maybe two?” Han smiles, happy that you noticed. “You like it?”

“Ugh, I love it” you gush, eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I wish I could get one but I can’t.”

Han seems more excited than you at the mention of it. “Why not? You should get one!”

You freeze, unsure how you want to answer this question. You’re mortified of the possible awkwardness of the truth but you’ve been best friends with these guys far too long to lie to them. 

“Well, I haven’t lost enough weight yet to get one but when I do—”

Changbin stops tattooing, shutting his gun off to stare into your soul. “What did I tell you about that? You’re beautiful how you are. Isn’t she beautiful the way she is?”

He poses the question to someone over your shoulder and, as the figure rounds the corner, your heart almost stops beating.

“Hmm? Yeah” Seungmin, the sole piercer in the shop, nods sipping a drink through one of those cute twisty straws. You find pretty much everything the man does attractive but there’s something especially adorable about this. 

He disappears into his room with a simple wave and a nod that makes you weak in the knees. Every guy here is like a brother to you but Seungmin? He’s different. You’ve been head over heels for him, utterly at his mercy, since he started working here.

As far as you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend but you haven’t figured out how to decipher his trademark grumpiness enough to tell if he has a thing for you too. Far too terrified to make the first move, you’ve settled for drooling over your dark haired puppy dog eyed lover from afar. 

Han nudges you with his elbow, struggling to hold back his laughter, “Ooh, you like him.”

You’re about to knee him in the side but he’s saved by Changbin’s execution of a plot he concocted mere seconds ago. You hadn’t noticed that mischievous look on his face but you have now and you don’t like it one bit. 

“Seungmin!” he calls out, flicking his gun on and getting back to work. 

Seungmin appears in the doorway, more preoccupied with his phone than anything Changbin has to say. 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Got time to do a belly button piercing real quick?”

“Depends” Seungmin shrugs, finally looking up from his phone, “Who’s asking?”

“Changbin, no” you mouth, only to be ignored. 

Changbin points to you, bubbling with joy at his evil plan. Seungmin folds his tattooed arms across his chest, looking you up and down.

Suddenly you’re second guessing what you wore today. Some combat boots and a short black dress with lace accents. It’s tight enough to highlight your shape but loose enough to flow a bit when you walk. Is it enough? Is it too much? Why are you even thinking about this?

“You?” Seungmin asks, raising a curious eyebrow. 

Fidgeting with the silver heart locket on your necklace, you muster up the courage to actually face him. 

“I was just, uh, I was thinking about it but I’m working so…”

Changbin chimes in, not letting you weasel your way out so easily, “Jeongin can watch the front desk”

“I don’t even have any jewelry picked out.”

“He has emergency jewelry back there. Don’t you, Seungmin?

Seungmin glances back into his room to check, “I’ve got something for her and my next appointment canceled so I have time if she really wants it.”

With no way out, you take a step towards his room, hesitating for a moment. Seungmin gives you a half smile, more than he offers most people. “Come on. I don’t bite.” Not that you’d be mad if he did. 

Giving in, you push forward, glancing over your shoulder to give Changbin a look that says he’ll pay for this later. Seungmin steps aside, patiently waiting for you to enter his room before shutting the door behind you. You jump a little when the door clicks shut and you hear him laughing at you.

“Nervous?”

“Me? Nervous? No way.” 

You’re lying and he can tell. When you spend your time doing dozens of piercings a day you get good at reading people. Plus the way you’re trembling doesn't exactly make it hard to tell what you’re feeling. 

“Well you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of you, okay?” he reassures you, placing a comforting hand on your forearm. His thumb strokes your inner wrist and suddenly your body's electric.

“Uh, yeah, for sure” you nod, your voice light and airy. 

Seungmin gently squeezes your arm, heading over to his closet to search for something. After a few seconds he pulls out a small fuzzy blanket with a cute Halloween pattern on it. 

“I need you to pull your dress up for the, well, you know” he says, opening the blanket up for you, “But if you’re not comfortable you can cover up with this.” 

“Oh, thanks. That’s really sweet of you.” You try not to seem too impressed, taking the blanket as he turns his back to you, busying himself by doing some prep. 

Hiking your dress up over your stomach, you tuck the blanket around your waist to cover your legs. Staring down at the way your soft belly pokes out, your brain goes into crisis mode. You’d imagined yourself half dressed in a room with Seungmin but this was far easier in your fantasies than in real life. You feel so vulnerable, one of your biggest insecurities laid bare, but there’s no turning back now. You’re in this. 

“So, are you gonna tell me what all that was about?” Seungmin asks, careful not to catch even the slightest peek at you before you’re ready. 

“All of what?” you stutter, your mind temporarily going blank. “Oh, that with Changbin? That was just, I don’t know, I’ve been wanting this for a while but I was putting it off…for reasons.”

“Because you don’t think you’re ‘Beautiful the way you are’?”

You cringe at his question, wishing Changbin hadn’t used such a cliche phrase. You squint your eyes, staring into the distance, imagining all the ways you’ll torture him for getting you into this. 

“It’s not that” you deny, gearing up for another lie but you back down yet again, “It’s kinda that. I don’t know. I’m not really a girl with a flat stomach.”

Seungmin snaps on a pair of black gloves, “Can I turn around now?”

“Mmhmm” you nod, your dress gathered in a tight fist of fabric above your stomach.

He spins around, pulls up a chair, and flops down in front of you in one fluid motion. He twirls a black marker in one hand, popping the top off with his teeth.

“Who told you that you had to be a girl with a flat stomach?” he asks, inspecting your belly button for the perfect spot. “I like your stomach. I think it’s cute.”

The compliment has the heat formerly warming your cheeks spreading through your entire body. You let out an involuntary giggle and he cracks a smile, a full one this time. The first of its kind in shop history. 

“You don’t have to say that to be nice.”

Seungmin marks a point, grabbing a hand mirror to show it to you, “You like it? Yeah? Good. Up on the table.”

You hop up on the table and assume the position. Straight out on your back, hands at your sides. You see it every day. No instruction needed. 

“I wasn’t being nice by the way” he says, that handsome face sliding up next to you. “It is cute. You’re…you’re really cute.”

Feeling himself begin to blush, he slips out of view to sterilize the area and get the needle ready.

“I’m sorry if that was weird. Was that weird?” he rambles, mostly to himself. 

Today’s full of firsts. You’ve never seen him nervous before, you never expected to, but the man’s ears are turning red and he can barely string a sentence together. 

“It’s not weird, Seungmin. You’re really cute too” you say, despite your own nervousness. You’ve been waiting so long to say that. It’s a relief to finally get it out. 

“Now you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. I do think you’re cute. I always have” you confess, “I just never said anything cause I didn’t think you’d like me."

Pinching your skin with a set of forceps, he aligns the needle with the tiny mark above your belly button, “Deep breath in.”

You take a deep breath in and the needle pops through like butter. You feel a quick sting followed by a rush of adrenaline. He slips the jewelry through so seamlessly you hardly feel it and you’re all done. 

“Are you crazy? I’ve liked you forever. Was it not obvious?” he asks, popping off his gloves and taking your hand to sit you up. 

“What? No. It wasn’t obvious. Was it supposed to be?”

Seungmin pauses, truly reflecting upon his attempts at flirting. “I tell you ‘Good morning’ every morning. I tell everyone else to kiss my ass.” 

“So romantic” you joke before noticing how sincere he is about it. 

You instantly wonder if he’s stared at you before the way he does now. The truth is that he has, maybe not in the most obvious moments but every chance he gets. When you’re running late in the morning, hurrying in with iced coffee to win everyone’s sympathy. When you’re all hanging out at Minho’s place and you’re rambling with Han about the dramas you’ve been watching. Or when you’re all out having drinks and you’re simply existing. He has those same stars in his eyes that he does now. Every. Single. Time. 

Realizing how hard he must be staring, he backs his chair up, giving you enough room to move around. Riding high on the thrill of actually going through with your piercing—your thoughts jumbled up by the knowledge that these feelings are mutual—you hop up to check yourself out in the mirror with not a thought given to the fact that the blanket has slipped off.

So here you are, twirling around in front of the mirror with your dress proudly held up. Plush thighs kissing each other. Lacey black panties on full display. A dazzling piece of jewelry dangles from your belly button and your stomach does the happiest jiggle as you delight in your reflection. 

“You like it?” Seungmin asks, coming closer to get a better look.  

“I love it. It’s so pretty” you beam, your gaze drawn to something shifting in the reflection.

Seungmin isn't watching you the same way he was anymore. There are notes of something reminiscent of the former innocence and awe but it’s something different entirely. It’s intense enough that you can feel the air shift in the room. The brown of his eyes seemingly grows deeper the longer he takes in your figure. 

“You can’t look at me like that” you say, your breathing growing shallow as you begin to lose yourself in what you see in the mirror. Watching him watching you. 

“You don’t want me to?” he asks, patiently awaiting your answer.

You don’t feel rushed or pressured. His patience is genuine but his eyes never leave you. They never leave you to question if that look of longing is dedicated to you or not.

You take a deep breath, making one last twirl to face the man that has your pulse racing a mile a minute. It isn’t just the way he watches you that has you on the verge of soaking through your new panties. It’s the way he sits in his chair, slightly tilted back, arms resting on his legs. It’s like he’s waiting for you, that little grin on his lips daring you to come take a seat. 

“I want you to” you say softly enough that you’re unsure if he heard you. 

Seungmin glides closer to you in his chair, stopping when his knees barely graze your legs. He leans forward, fingertips tracing the outline of your thighs, “You want me to what?”

As he asks the question, his breath tickles the surface of your skin and you shiver at the sensation.

“I want you to…aah” you gasp as his hands grip the tender flesh of your ass, pulling you in close enough for his lips to meet your stomach. He kisses it carefully and lovingly, taking his time to let his mouth and hands explore all of the softest, fluffiest parts of you. 

“You want me to…what?” he asks, tugging you down into his lap, his lips still wet from kissing your body. It makes it all the more tempting to kiss him. Surrendering to your impulses, you pull him into a kiss so ravenous and full of need that it leaves his head spinning in the best way. 

You were meant to come in here for a piercing. That was it. Now you’re straddling his lap with your fingers in his hair while his tongue’s halfway down your throat.

Slipping his hands back under your dress, he rests them on your hips, pressing you down into his lap to show you just how hard you've gotten him. Your panties are more soaked than you notice, making the material thin enough that you can feel it all. The thickness of his cock, the texture of his pants, grinding against your sensitive core, bumping your clit each time he raises his hips.

A moan escapes your lips. A weak, cute little thing that only makes him want you more. He breaks from the kiss, charting a course down your neck to tease the curves of your breasts with his tongue. 

“Who told you that you could be this sexy?” 

“I don’t know” you giggle, a small glimmer of your former shyness coming through, “I could ask you the same thing.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he tilts you just enough to give him the space to stroke your clit through your panties, forcing more and more of those sensual moans to pour out of you. 

“Just promise me you won’t stop” Seungmin begs, tucking your panties to the side to pet your dripping slit. “Keep being this sexy…this fucking cute…this—fuck.” He sinks his fingers into your core and you swallow them up eagerly, clenching tightly around them. 

You throw your head back, your back arched in pleasure. You know without looking that he’s watching you again. You know he’s getting off on how your breasts bounce each time you grind down onto his fingers, your pussy so wet that his whole hand’s slick with your juices. 

Seungmin navigates your body like magic, picking up on your most tender spots and knowing just when to hit them to make you tremble the way you did when you first stepped into this room. 

Cradling his cheeks in your palms, you come face to face with him, and say to him in the sweetest tone, “Fuck me already.”

Taking you into his arms, he sweeps you up out of the chair, and sets you down on the edge of the table. 

“Oh god, I didn’t know you could do that” you gasp, stunned that he could pick you up. You knew that Seungmin was fit, something more than obvious by the toned body your eyes are graced with when he pulls his shirt off. But fit enough to pick you up like you’re nothing? Now that you didn’t expect. 

“What? You didn’t expect me to be strong? I’m hurt” he pouts, pretending to be offended but not too offended to help you wiggle your dress up over your head. 

You slide back on the table and right out of your panties. “Get up here and I’ll make it better.” 

You spread your legs and he’s right in between them, leaving a trail of kisses behind as he makes his way up to a pussy wet enough to glisten in the glow of the overhead light. He can’t resist having a taste, humming at the deliciousness of your arousal dancing on his taste buds.

The tip of his tongue meets your clit, flicking it slowly at first then picking up an unforgiving speed. Your hands find his hair again and you’re writhing on the table, choking back moans with your fingers tangled in the back of his head.

The slurping sounds that fill the room make you want to cum right now. In his mouth. Down his chin. All over that gorgeous face of his. And he’d welcome it happily. Beg you to give him more even. That’s how badly he wants you. How badly he’s always wanted you. 

Seungmin’s mouth deserts you unexpectedly, leaving your walls spasming and your stiffened bud twitching in his absence. “Add that to the list of things you can’t stop doing” he whispers, crawling on top of you.

You’re beautiful from any angle, there’s not one he can think of where you aren’t, but this has to be his favorite. You look so perfect underneath him. Right where you should be. 

“Getting eaten out?” you ask, planting a kiss on his shiny pink lips. 

“I meant tasting so good but…” he muses, the head of his cock throbbing at your entrance, “I can make sure that happens too.”

That first bit of contact, the very first time you feel his cock raw against your pussy, has you purring. Seungmin feeds you just the tip at first, stretching you out little by little, loving everything about how your body reacts to him. Running your nails across his back, you raise your hips, whining for more. 

“What are you whining for, baby?” Seungmin teases, giving you one inch after another, “Is this it? This what you want?” 

“Aah, yes, I want it. More please. Please” you plead, your eyes growing glossier the wider you’re stretched. 

It crosses his mind to spend more time teasing you just a little bit, it’s in his nature to be a bit of an asshole after all, but you feel way too good to play games with. You fit him like a glove and with every thrust he becomes more and more convinced that you must’ve been made for him. 

“You’re so perfect” he praises, massaging your curves, “Fuck, I love your body. Your face. Your everything.”

Soaking in the praise and the ecstasy of his length dragging along the ridges of your core, you could swear that you were glowing and, actually, you are. Glowing in his adoration and, courtesy of an accidental glimpse of yourself in the mirror, a fair share of your own. 

Seungmin catches you looking at yourself and smiles, pounding into you harder. “Don’t look away” he instructs, holding your head in place, “Have you ever seen how pretty you are when you cum?”

“N…no” you manage, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming at the tremors each thrust sends through your body. 

“Good, we’ll see it for the first time together then.”

Using his free hand, he grips one of your thighs, pressing your leg back so that he feels even deeper than before. The force is powerful enough that you feel it in your chest, vibrating down to your fingertips.

You can’t take your eyes off of your reflection, he won’t let you. Your body moves so beautifully when he’s fucking you that he needs you to see it how he does. You need to see the way your tits bounce and your hips jiggle as the tension builds up inside of you and you’re choking back moans with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Seungmin doesn’t need you to tell him how close you are. Your body gives him every cue he needs. The tightening of your muscles. The stuttering of your breath. The legs wrapped around his waist, making sure he keeps punishing your sweet spot, pushing you further and further to your breaking point. 

“Mmm, coming. I’m coming” you moan, letting your high wash over you. 

He kisses you on the cheek, refusing to let up on you. “Look at you, coming all over my cock” he coos, committing every face you make to memory, “Such a good girl.” 

The vision of you is almost too much. Your legs spread out, your brain all fuzzy, your body overstimulated, and your juices pooling on the table below. He can’t hold back anymore. He can’t ignore the tightness and the warmth of your velvet walls fluttering around him. 

“Oh fuck” he hisses, pulling out just in time to coat your swollen pussy in a thick glaze of his cum. It’s hot and tingly on your clit, tickling as it drips between your folds. 

You stroke his back, comforting him on his way down from his high and he does the same for you, his fingertips running up and down your thighs. The room falls into silence. Not an awkward one but one of comfort. One where you hold each other as long as you want. Not minding the heavy breathing or the sweaty bodies. Just enjoying being together before it dawns on the two of you that you’re both still at work. 

“Shit, shit, shit! The front desk is definitely on fire by now”  you fuss, rushing to throw your clothes back on. 

Seungmin’s not nearly in as much of a rush as you are. He’s having too much fun watching you freak out to care about if there's a bunch of agitated customers waiting up front or not. 

Grabbing you by the wrist, he spins you into a hug that calms you down in an instant. 

“So what if it is?” he asks, brushing your hair out of your face, “I have to ask you something important first.”

“Important? Important like what?”

“Important like I know we don’t close until 2am tonight but could I see you after, maybe?"

You shrug, acting like you don’t care when you’re literally screaming on the inside, “I guess so.” 

“It’s like that? You ‘guess’ so?”

Seungmin slaps your ass and draws you into a kiss that has you ready to drop your panties for him for a second time. 

“Fine. I more than guess. I’d love to see you later” you blush, playfully pinching his cheeks, “I’ll wait for you up front then?”

He nods, getting one last squeeze out of you before turning you loose. “Let me see it one more time.”

Knowing exactly what he means, you take a step back to flash him your new piercing. 

“Yup, still very hot” he winks, casually leaning against the table he just fucked your brains out on. 

You smooth your dress back out, giggling as you skip back out onto the floor to find that everyone’s staring at you. Machines are buzzing but no one’s actually doing any work. Even the customers are staring at you waiting to see what happens next. 

Clearing your throat, you hold your head high, and march across the floor. You manage to hide your excitement just long enough to make it back to the hallway where your joyful squeals can flow freely. You can’t remember the last time you felt this excited about something. About someone. About yourself.

You aren’t too big for a belly button piercing. It looks sexy as fuck on you, you must admit. And you aren’t too big for Seungmin who happens to look sexy as fuck on you too. You feel beautiful the way you are, truly, and there’s a boy sitting at his station, too busy thinking about you to get anything done, that thinks so too. 

[amsznn]

can you do a first time with matt? they’re not together yet but really like each other and hang out together a lot kinda vibe. she goes on a date with another guy to get her mind off of matt and when her date tries to take her home with him and have a one night stand, she’s super into it but then freaks out because she doesn’t feel safe and comfortable with the guy. the date kinda gets frustrated with the reader because she “led him on.” so she asks matt to come and pick her up and she breaks down and tells him everything. she explains that she wants that kind of intimacy with someone so bad but she’s embarrassed and has so much trauma that she needs to feel really safe and comfortable with whoever she crosses that line of intimacy with. basically matt asks her if she’s comfortable with him and she asks him to be her first? he’s SO sweet during sex with her, MAJOR praising towards the female and really passionate and intimate. i’m really wanting/envisioning a side of matt during sex that’s very very sweet and comforting, yet a little dominant and sensual at the same time! but definitely gentle with her since it’s her first time and TAKES HIS TIME WITH HER??? like how sweet would that be you know??? BEGGING YOU FOR THIS. 🤍🤍🤍 love your writing :)

NOTHING LIKE YOU - m. sturniolo

warnings: slight cursing, SMUT (don’t read if you’re uncomfortable), p in v, soft dom!matt

A/N: thank you for the request, hopefully i wrote it how you were imagining. again if you want me to fix anything lmk! <3

-

“going somewhere?”

you heard a familiar voice call out behind you. you turned around to see matt, your best friend standing in the doorway as you attempted to zip up the black silk dress you were planning on wearing.

“believe it or not, i am going on a date.” you watched his reaction through your mirror, not sure of what to make of it. but ultimately matt just put on a small smile before making his way towards your figure.

“who’s the lucky guy?” he asked before assisting you in zipping up the dress. you didn’t miss how his hands lingered for more than a few seconds, or how his eyes traveled all the way down your body, admiring you.

you simply shrugged off his question. “ill tell you if it becomes anything serious.” grabbing your purse off your bed side table, you took one final look at your appearance, deeming it was good enough. “i’ll see you later okay? don’t wait up.” you said as you grabbed your house keys.

before you could make your exit, matt swiftly pulled you by the waist, bringing you into a secure hug. “what’s up with you?” you asked amused while circling your arms around his torso.

“call me if you need anything, alright?” matt said while pulling back from the hug, still not ready to let go. maybe your heart stopped for minute, matter of a fact maybe it exploded. from the way matt was looking at you, it was enough to forget about the whole date. but you knew you couldn’t. there was no point on waiting on something that would probably never happen.

“okay matt.” you softly replied before breaking out of his grasp, leaving the house to make your way to your date.

-

so far, your date was going well. to your surprise your date was easy to talk to. he started conversations easily, and listened to you as spoke, which is why it was easy for your mind not to wonder to the brunette you left back at home.

you two had went to a semi-fancy restaurant and were laughing the whole night through. from cracking jokes, to telling one another funny stories, you thought this might just end well for you.

“how about we go back to my place after this?” your date said while paying for his portion of the bill since you insisted on splitting it. you smiled at this while also putting your card down.

“sure, why not?”

-

back at his house things escalated quickly. mere seconds after getting past the front entrance, his hands were all over you.

he held you as you two engaged in a heavy make out session, leading you towards his room, never breaking the contact. your arms unwrapped around his neck before falling back onto his bed. quickly climbing on top of you, he dives down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to your collarbone. you sighed and propped yourself up on your elbows, making yourself more accessible to him.

as his free hand road your dress up, your hands were busy fumbling to get his shirt off, just as eager. he paused for a moment, leaning towards his bedside table to look for a condom. upon finding it, he undid his belt, and pushed his pants and boxers all the way down.

his teeth teared open the condom wrapper, as you watched his every movement. you laid back down, shutting your eyes, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come.

the guy placed his elbows on each side of your head. you could feel the tip slowly prying at your entrance.

shit

shit

shit

“wait, i can’t!” you quickly scooted back to the headboard. the guy looked at you confused, before taking the condom off and pulling his boxers back on.

“what the fuck, you serious?” he asked, eyes scanning your face to see if you were just joking. you adjusted your dress, swinging your legs off the side of the bed. “i’m sorry, im just not ready.” you muttered before finding your panties scattered somewhere on the floor, quickly putting them on you rushed out of the room.

the guy followed suit, yelling accusations at you. “you’re just gonna leave like that!?” he called out after you. you didn’t dare to look back, not even bothering to slip your heels back on, you ran out his house and didn’t stop until you were a couple of blocks down. you collapsed on the sidewalk, quickly pulling out your phone to call your pinned contact.

the phone rang and rang, until finally you could hear matt’s groggy voice on the other side of the phone.

“hey, what’s up?”

“matt, i need you to come get me right now.” you said, trying to compose yourself so he wouldn’t worry. on the other side you listened as matt shuffled around to grab his keys, making his way out the house in an instant.

“i’ll be right there.”

-

matt arrived in less than 15 minutes, since your location was a good distance between his house. he slowed down when he saw you at the side of the road, coming to a complete stop before you fell into the car.

he saw the look on your face. he didn’t need you to tell him, he knew something went wrong.

when you guys made it home, you made your way to matt’s room, not wanting to be alone that night. matt stopped in the kitchen to grab you some snacks before making his way back to your figure laid on the bed.

he shut the door and dimmed the lights, in case they were bothering you. he left the snacks on the table beside your head before laying down next to you.

“wanna talk about it?” matt asked gently. he turned over on his side to face you better. you sighed and ran your palm down your face. tears dropping down the plump of your cheeks. you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“we almost fucked,” you took a deep breath before continuing. “but i freaked out and ruined everything.” your eyes continued to water before you turned to face matt.

“what’s wrong with me?” your voice broke matt’s heart. to him there was absolutely nothing wrong with you. to him you were perfect, there was nothing that compared to you.

“hey, hey, hey” matt gently caressed your face while wiping your tears with his thumb. “there’s nothing wrong with being scared y/n. you don’t have to be ready right now.”

you let out another frustrated sigh. “but i am ready matt. he just..wasn’t the one i guess.” matt pulled his hand away from your face before looking into your eyes.

“then who is?”

your heart skipped another beat, or maybe two. he’s been right in front of you this whole time. the one you wanted, the one you needed. it was matt.

you shifted on your side before your hand made its way to matt’s neck. you watched his expression, for any sort of discomfort before connecting his lips with yours.

although the feeling of your lips on his brought matt to euphoria, he couldnt bring himself to do this while you were in a state of vulnerability, causing matt to back away from the kiss.

“y/n, are you sure about this?”

“yes matt, im really sure.”

matt smiled before pulling you in for another kiss, instead this one was more passionate, and desperate. your bottom lip hung open as matt took this as an invitation to push his tongue past the entrance. the atmosphere in the room only got thicker as matt shifted his body on top of you. you could feel the bulge in his pants rub against your core which made you whimper into the kiss.

“matt..please.” you gasped into the kiss.

“there’s no rush, baby. it’s just me and you.”

matt’s hands made their way down your body, reaching behind you back to undo the dress and reveal your breast out in display for him. matt dipped down, kissing all along the area, but purposely dodging the place you needed him most.

as matt’s hands went further, you could feel them just above your core. he could feel how wet you were through your panties. he made work to take them off, causing you to shiver from the exposure. you pulled at the hem of matt’s shirt, practically begging him to take it off. he complied, while also pushing his sweatpants, and boxers off. you couldn’t help but tense up, and do the same as before and lay back down to brace yourself.

matt grabbed a condom from his drawer, tearing it open and rolling it down his length. he could sense how tense you were. he gently placed his hand on your waist while looking into your eyes, trying to ease any of your worries away.

“i’ll go slow okay? tell me if you wanna stop.”

you whispered an ‘okay’ in approval. matt lined himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. your knuckles almost turned white with how much you were gripping the sheets to the new burning sensation.

“it’s okay angel, i got you.” matt reassured while caressing your face in hopes to calm you down.

matt groaned until he completely bottomed out. staying in place so you could adjust.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” matt breathed out.

you shivered at his words before taking a deep breath before telling matt he could move.

his thrusts were slow, but deep. enough to make you feel every inch of him.

“matt, can you go a bit faster?” you breathed out. matt nodded before propping himself up on his arms, making the snapping of his hips faster.

“oh god, matt!” you moaned out at the newfound pace. you mind was clouded with pleasure and the with the brunette in front of you. you reached up to push matt back down by his neck so your lips could clash against each other once again.

matt moaned against your lips, the clenching off your walls around him was enough to make him explode right then and there.

“you’re doing so good for me, angel.” matt whispered above your ear.

you whimpered, the combination of matt’s pace and the feeling of his lips peppering soft kisses all around caused your head to spin.

“matt, im gonna..” you could barely finished your sentence before matt’s free hand made it’s way to your clit, rubbing circles helping you chase your own high.

“go ahead baby, im right here.” matt mumbled, talking you through your orgasm.

“matt!” you cried out as you felt the knot in your stomach burst, leaving you a shaking mess as matt, also came undone, moaning your name as he rode out his high as well.

“fuck.” matt muttered before pulling out, which earned a shiver from you, still sensitive. matt made his way to the bathroom to clean himself off before coming back in his black sweatpants and a fresh towel for you. he gently cleaned you up, careful as he knew any sudden movement could cause you discomfort. you sat up before grabbing a clean set of matt’s boxers, and one of his sweatpants before collapsing back into bed.

matt did the same, pulling the covers over you two. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you in closer. “are you okay?” he asked while peppering kisses along your neck.

“i’m amazing.” you chuckled while playing with the hand that held your waste.

“yeah, you really are.”

-

A/N: yall i………..i have no words, i dont usually write smut, I’ve probably written it like once but i decided to try smth new ig. I WAS GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME. also message me if you wanna be moots, need some more. (need matt rn)

[eddiessluttywaist]

the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head). 

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips. 

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

[loaksbitch]

alright girlies this time hurt/comfort but turns to pure love making aka smut au for emotional hurt lo’ak sully? definitely yes ): — wc 1.8k

warnings – agedup!loak, my baby lo’ak is insecure, kinda angsty, kissing, switch lo’ak, sub lean lo’ak, making love, riding, mention of crying, agedup lo’ak. that’s it?? if i left anything lmk &lt;3

“take me, have me in you.” — lo’ak sully (⨳)

you’re sat on top of your mate, straddling him while lo’ak was sat on the hammock, securely having his hands on your hips. “lo’ak.” you call for him, your heart aching when his eyes don't meet yours.

you place your small hand on his cheeks and guide him to look at you, “look at me,” you breathe. “please?”

and he does, but that only hurts your heart more. lo’ak was on verge of crying, eyes sparkling with tears. he opens his mouth to speak but closes them when his throat tightens.

why are you worried? you don’t deserve him.

“whoever said that are assholes yeah? you’re not a freak.” you tell him, reminding him what has happened with the metikanyan boys and how they made fun for him having fiver fingers.

he shuts his eyes, leaning more to your warm hands and taking a deep breath. “they’re so jealous you’re different.” you try again, “besides, your father is also…” you watch him shake his head, denying your comfort.

“it’s different princess, so different.” he speaks softly, “my dad is olo’eyktan and i’m nothing.”

no you’re not, no you’re nothing lo’ak. you wanted to say but it only fell on deaf ears. instead you pulled him for a hug, pulling him close to you, feeling him hide his face by the crook of your neck.

his hands wrap around your waist, holding you close to him before he lets a soft cry out. lo’ak only needed you right now, only wanted you to hold him when he cries his pain on you. “you’re okay, cry it out.” you tighten your hold on him.

you knew lo’ak was strong and never was the person to show his emotions, but this was too hard. things are new to all of you sully families since the clan was not yours and it was hard for lo’ak to adjust.

you keep holding him close as he cried.

after what felt like a while, lo’ak sniffles almost quitely and leans back, eyes kinda puffy and pupils blown. “i love you, i love you so fucking much.” he suddenly says, wanting you to know you’re everything to him.

you smile, only humming and getting to action.

lo’ak watches you how your lashes flatter and close before you’re leaning and pressing your forehead to his. “i see you.” his amber eyes takes your beauty, ready to devour your lips as your voice out those beautiful words.

you smile when he suddenly pressed his lips to yours, lips curving and kissing him back. lo’ak never used words, only actions are important to him.

“thank you for trusting in me and loving me.” he suddenly says, breaking the kiss and making you frown. “don’t thank me lo’ak, there is no ne—“ he cuts you off.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, as if he just didn’t kiss you now. you nod, brining your dainty hands to his braided locks.

warmth pooled within you as he pressed his soft lips on yours, mouth opening and tongue tieing. he sighed, the precursor to a moan, and you could feel him hardening under you and brushing to your thigh.

lo’ak whimpers to the kiss when you tug on his hair, him also digging his short nails on your hips. “you’re safe with me.” you tell him once you break the kiss.

“i’ll take care of you.” lo’ak only watches you, eyes already hazy and brain hooded with comfort, love and lust.

he watches how you start to rock your hips against his, gently grinding on his fully grown bulge. lo’ak catches how your lips get trapped in your teeth, trying not to moan or show how desperate he was for you.

lo’ak’s lips sought to yours again, this time rougher and reeled with hunger. your eyes slightly widen when you feel him sneak his hands to your back, starting to untie your loincloth tied on your tail.

once he makes sure he did, he pulls it off from your hips and signals you to raise your hips up so he could slide them away. lo’ak successfully removes it and you gasp when your wet cunt gets exposed.

“need you.” he says, taking the advantage of you straddling him and opening his legs wider for your pussy to be bare for him. you whine, feeling the cool air hit you down there and feel his fingers cold, spreading your folds.

anticipation steadily rose when his fingers starts to slide, stroking your clit between his fingers. “show me,” you gasp, “show me what that extra finger does.” lo’ak was surprised, eyes trained and finding you so fucking attractive, he was watching you moan when he flicks your nub.

you demanded and he served.

lo’ak was only silent when his finger eased inside your tight hole, watching your lips pout and open in pleasure for his feelings to boost.

you gasp and hold onto him, hands holding on his arms and hips bucking. lo’ak groans when you squirm causing his finger to slip out of you. “don’t move baby.” he says and free hands hold onto your hip.

your jaw drops as you let a long yet quite moan out.

unsteady legs becoming weak and trying to close but his thighs being barrier was frustrating. “lo’ak,” you mewl when he curls his finger inside you, stretching you more for him so it could be easy when he fucks you.

once lo’ak feels your slick to leak out of you, he slips his finger out. “need to be inside you.” he quickly says, and you only watch him move, but before he does take his loincloth off, you stop him and hold on to his wrist.

your eyes dance on his fingers that were shining with your slick. “open your mouth.” you say and lo’ak looks at you before opening his lips and you don’t miss how he growls when you push his fingers into his mouth.

you taste so sweet on his tongue, if he didn’t want to fuck you right now? lo’ak would have simply buried himself between your thighs, eating you out like no tomorrow. “good boy.” you try to hide your shock when he is staring at your soul, whimpering as his ears flattened against his hair and slightly biting on your hand.

oh so he have a thing for being called ‘good boy’?

right after he removed his cloth and was bare in front of you, you slid your hand back down to his front. lo’ak was looking at you in awe, heart racing as he watched you raise yourself up and guide his throbbing dick to your heat.

it was euphoric. lo’ak felt euphoric when your walls took him in, giving him a home to rest and set his pain and frustration in. the sound of your pussy, the sound while you slide down on his cock made his inside twist.

“princess.” he hissed, not being able to help when you clench on him unintentionally. he pupils were blown wide, eyes staring at you wide when your face twists with every detailed pleasure and emotions.

“…oh fuck, baby.” lo’ak’s breath hitches when you start to move against him, pulling yourself up with his help before he slid you down on him.

“you feel so good.” you mewl but lo’ak doesn’t respond verbally, fucking pulling you on top of him, knocking your breath. he doesn’t miss how your clit ghosts his pelvis and grunt at your state when he looks down between you.

oh eywa you’re so beautiful and mesmerizing.

your wetness smearing all over his thighs and pelvis. “lo’ak.” you moan, one hand holding his shoulder for support when the other grips on his braided locks and threw your head back.

lo’ak uses the advantage, leaning to capture your nipple and suck on it tensely. your moan signals him you’re almost there and so was he. the pain when you pull harder on his hair cause him to moan to your breast and you whimper.

his inside were full of explosives and he was happy, licking on your nipple before blowing an air on it. he just loves how you shiver and your skin erupted with goosebumps.

“take me,” he starts right after he leans back, pulling your hips to meet his thrust. “have me in you.” your legs shake when you feel your orgasm about to hit you. painfuckingfully.

“oh,” lo’ak watches your lips making an ‘O’ shape, breathless moan escaping. he will never get tired of your face, your pleasured face. it was as if he can be himself with you, your comfort only helping him love and live his life.

he doesn’t know what he would do if he loses you.

lo’ak haven’t noticed how he was holding your hips tight, blinded by unwanted imagines of losing you until you tap on his hands since it was kinda painful and you don’t want to get bruised right now.

“sorry princess.” he pulls you flush to his chest, taking your lips in his and licking your bottom lip. signaling you to let go for him.

you obligate, back arching and pressing yourself to your mate as if there was enough space. “lo’ak, oh..lo’ak!” you squeal at the feeling of his dick pushing in and out of you while came on him.

the wet sound arousing lo’ak and helping him reach his milestone. “i love you.” you tell him, ticking his loose braided back to his tied up hair, “i love you lo’ak, you descend everything.” he really does.

love, happiness, family, friends, he deserves everything.

lo’ak’s moan suddenly cracks and he was crying again, oh how he was visible and vulnerable in front of you. “i-i love y…” he can’t finish it, feeling your thumb wipe on his cheeks that had tears.

“i love you more.” he says and you feel him painting your walls with his white ropes. “i love you, baby, i love love love you.” he emphasizes the word ‘love.’

you giggle and place soft kiss on his closed eyelids, you loved this man and you will do anything to protect him, even if it has to be fight with the metekaniya olo’eyktan kids then so be it.

you feel lo’ak smile and shake his head, “no baby, i can hear you thinking.” he brushes your hair away from your face. “you’re not gonna fight with anyone alright?” you hate how he knows you.

you look away but lo’ak uses his fingers to make you have an eye contact with him. “alright?” he asks, this time deeper. you stay silent for a while before huffing out loud. “fine.”

yaurrr the ‘lo’ak smut (no plot)’vote poll won so here ya go y’all — i might make the neteyam mini series too but idk 🤷🏽‍♀️ but i hope you enjoyed what i wrote for you babies!

like + reblogs are super appreciated and not pressured! i love each and every one of you sm!! **mwah &lt;3

[ghosttotheparty]

come crawling faster

read on AO3

Eddie’s rings are clean of blood when he wakes up.

It doesn’t occur to him until later, as he’s laying in bed trying to sleep, that someone must have cleaned the for him, and the thought twirls the air around him like a tornado. He inspects them in the moonlight, and there isn’t a speck of blood or dirt even in the deepest crevices of them. He smiles at the ceiling in the dark.

Everyone is happy that he’s okay. They all hug him gently, careful and mindful of the stitches holding him together, of the IV in his arm, of the way his head aches like he’s hungover. All their voices are low and their hands gentle, and Robin and Nancy bring clothes for him to wear that aren’t cold hospital gowns. Dustin cries, and Eddie thinks that for a few minutes while Eddie holds him, he’s turned back into the little boy he was before he was shoved into the whole mess of the Upside Down.

They all update him on everything that’s happened since he’s been out. Max is okay, with healing arms and glasses almost thicker than the bottoms of Coke bottles. Erica and Lucas are okay. Dustin’s leg is healing, but he’ll have to use a cane. Mike is back from Lenora, with a girl named Eleven and Will and Jonathan, and some guy named Argyle.

He sees all their smiles.

Except Steve.

Steve doesn’t smile. Not once.

He stands in the corner and watches everyone talking, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall like a broody movie villain, and a few times when Eddie looks in his direction, he’s already looking back. Frowning. Or he’s looking at the ground like he’s bored, like he doesn’t want to be here at all.

And every time it makes Eddie’s chest tighten, so he squares his shoulders and widens his smile and looks away, back to whoever is talking. He’s actually struggling to follow along as their voices overlap, and he thinks maybe he’s just tired, because when Robin speaks, he looks toward Eleven for a moment, and he accidentally calls Dustin Lucas’s name.

They all say goodbye when they leave. The kids all hug him gently again, along with Robin and Nancy. Argyle and Jonathan smile.

Steve doesn’t say goodbye.

Eddie tries not to let it get under his skin, but it gnaws away at him like teeth as he stares up at the ceiling. How easily Steve left, like he doesn’t even know Eddie. How he was almost glaring at Eddie the whole time. How he didn’t even seem slightly happy that Eddie was alive.

He only sees Steve a few times while he’s in the hospital, because Steve drives the kids to visit. If it were up to Steve, Eddie doesn’t think he’d even show up. It’s still under Eddie’s skin.

Days go by.

The government pulls some strings. Eddie’s murder charges are dropped. He’s released from the hospital but only with a security guard that’s armed with a gun just in case. Eddie goes home to Wayne.

Home is different now. An apartment in town, small and a little run-down, but it has two bedrooms and more hot water than the trailer. And there aren’t any bloodstains on the ceiling.

Eddie helps Wayne put up his mugs around the kitchen, and his hats in the living room. Wayne chides him gently. You’re gonna pull your stitches, Eds, I got it. But Eddie’s tired of doing nothing, of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to think up new campaign ideas only to be distracted wondering what’s going on with Steve. So he keeps helping. And he cleans, and decorates his own room with posters and photos and banners that someone packed while he was in his coma.

He has to go back to the hospital several times, accompanied by Wayne. To remove the stitches on his cheek, then the stitches on his arms and legs, then the stitches on his sides and chest. Eddie hates getting stitches removed.

He’s covered in scars, all pink and disfigured, tender and sensitive. The scars on his sides are almost indented, his skin no longer smooth and soft. The one on his cheek is jagged. He avoids looking in mirrors. He wears long sleeve shirts, even though the weather is getting warmer.

He doesn’t go back to school even though he has the option to. He doesn’t want to be looked at. And he doesn’t really care anymore. There are bigger things to worry about than fucking Ms O’Donnell’s class. (Like what’s going on with Steve.)

Wayne goes back to work. The kids go back to school. The town seems to get used to Eddie. He still gets glares from people, and he looks back. He doesn’t hide the scar on his face or the one around his neck. They leave him alone.

The living room of the apartment becomes their new D&D place. Steve drives the kids over and picks them up. He doesn’t come upstairs. None of the kids say anything about. And this thing between Steve and Eddie becomes a quiet, unspoken thing that no one even glances at. It’s not the unspoken thing Eddie had hoped for when he opened his eyes in the hospital, blinded by the sun on the white walls and another chance at life. It’s the opposite of what he’d hoped for.

A month goes by.

Mike and Eleven break up, and that weird tension that was always present around them disappears. (Eddie always thought Mike talked about Will more than he talked about El at school anyway.) Nancy and Jonathan break up too. The day after, they both look happier than Eddie’s seen them before.

Eddie has some parts of his life back. He goes over to Gareth’s for band practice, and he decides he prefers how his guitar looks in this dimension, how it shines in the sun. He also decides that life is better when he’s not in high school. He’s going to try to get a job this summer, at a car shop or something. Wherever will hire him.

It’s been three weeks since he and Steve have seen each other. Or, he supposes, since he’s seen Steve. Steve didn’t look at him. It was like Eddie wasn’t there. It made him feel gross in a way he’s never felt, like his skin didn’t fit right, like it was bunched up and twisted, and he wanted to rip it off and set it on fire. And scream. Because he was mad.

Because even if Steve doesn’t feel the same way about him, Eddie thought they were friends. Or at least friendly. Eddie almost died, and Steve hasn’t said a single word to him.

So yeah. Eddie is mad.

But he’s pissed when he sees Steve at the grocery store, and their eyes meet across the stand of fruit they’re both at, and Steve just… looks down. Picks up an apple. Squeezes it.

And walks away.

Eddie is pissed.

More pissed than he’s ever been in his life. His blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins, like he’s being burned alive, and he can’t breathe, and he puts his basket down and leaves the store. (Usually he’d take the time to pay, or put the few items in the basket back. But he thinks that if he tries to do either, he’ll lose his mind.)

He goes to the parking lot. Sits in the driver seat of his van for a few minutes, staring at the gray sky as his hands shake and his knee bounces against the steering wheel, trying to figure out what exactly was in Steve’s eyes when he looked at him. They were awfully blank, but he looked… anxious. His eyes were a little too wide, his jaw a little too firm.

The sky darkens as Eddie stares at it.

He’s still pissed. He’s still shaking.

His keys rattle as he turns the van on, and his breath trembles as he drives, the windshield wipers on as it starts to rain. And then he’s at the Harrington mansion, and he wants to drive off a cliff, because what the fuck is he doing here?

He turns off the van and stares at the house. At all the windows. The downstairs lights are on. Eddie wonders if Steve is scared of the dark too.

It’s almost pouring when Eddie gets to the front doorstep and rings the doorbell before he knocks five times, hard. The door swings open a few moments later, and Steve is beautiful even Eddie’s angry at him.

His brows are furrowed in confusion, but his face relaxes back into that horrible blankness when he realises it’s Eddie.

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

For a while. In silence, except the pouring rain. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s, who holds the door so tightly Eddie thinks he’s going to slam it shut.

And Eddie wants to hear him talk.

And Eddie is stubborn. He’s had great practice being stubborn. So he doesn’t speak, or move, or even breathe too hard even though his hands are still trembling, until Steve finally exhales and steps back.

“Get out of the rain.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Eddie exclaims, and he knows he’s being bitchy, but he doesn’t care. He kicks his shoes off, nudging them into a corner as Steve shuts the door heavily and steps into the kitchen that’s bigger than Eddie’s living room.

“What the fuck?” Eddie bursts as he follows him, watching him lean casually against a counter and cross his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a red sweater that looks criminally good on him, but Eddie doesn’t let it distract him.

“What the fuck,” Steve repeats dryly.

“You wanna fuckin’ tell me why you’ve barely fucking looked at me in the past goddamn month?”

Eddie has a swearing problem. It was the cause of a lot of his detention visits in high school, because he can’t help it. When he gets frustrated or annoyed or angry, his language gets colourful. Usually he regrets the words as he’s saying them, sometimes because he knows he’s gonna wind up in Peterson’s room after the bell rings with a pink slip in hand, and sometimes because the person he’s talking to doesn’t really deserve to be talked to like that. Because he’s not mad or frustrated with them, they just happen to be in the line of fire.

But not Steve.

Steve is the fucking target.

Eddie is already breathing hard as Steve looks away, his tongue sliding over his teeth in his closed mouth, seething.

“Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes snap up him, dark and gleaming like a predator’s. His voice is rough when he speaks.

“Because I’m pissed at you.”

“Well, Christ,” Eddie says loudly. “What a development.” His stomach aches, like he’s sick at the thought of Steve being mad at him. “You wanna tell me why?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he stands up straight off the counter, uncrossing his arms, staring so hard at Eddie that his nose might start bleeding.

“I told you,” he says evenly, pointing at Eddie with two loose fingers, “not to be a hero.”

“Harrington—“

“And you nodded,” Steve interrupts, his pointing fingers stabbing the air between them. “You agreed, and I believed you.” His voice is loud, but shaking, Eddie wants to cry. He wants to burn his skin. “So I left you with my kid and I came back to find you fucking bleeding out in his arms.”

“What, so you’re mad that I almost died?”

“I’m mad that you went back!” And Eddie wants to die, because Steve is yelling now, but it’s still better than the silence he’s gotten. “I’m mad that you didn’t fucking run!”

Eddie’s eyes are burning, and his lips are pursed in a frown, and Steve’s hand falls.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asks brokenly, and Eddie realises the predatory gleam in his eyes is just tears.

“I ran from Chrissy,” Eddie says as strong to as he can. “I wasn’t gonna run again.”

“Anybody would have run from that, Eddie,” Steve yells. He leans forward in emphasis, and he looks like he’s going to cry. “You weren’t a coward, you were human. You didn’t have to fucking— make up for it.”

Eddie stares, blinking tears back, pursing his lips when his chin quivers.

“I’m pissed at you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter again. He’s breathing hard. His hands are shaking too. “Because you lied to me.”

He takes a deep, unsteady breath.

“And because—“ He chokes, swallowing. “Because you didn’t think that obviously Dustin was gonna follow you back. And I don’t— Jesus, Eddie, I don’t care if you don’t give a shit about your life, it’s not— not fucking fair.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Eddie’s chest feels like it’s been ripped open.

“The fuck’s that mean,” he says quietly. His whole body hurts. He thinks maybe Steve’s hands could make it feel better, but what are the chances Steve is going to touch him gently right now?

“I know you knew what was gonna happen, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice even, lethal.

Eddie’s stomach twists, and his breath catches in his throat, because he didn’t think he’d have to talk about this. He didn’t think anyone knew.

Steve stares at him, his eyes fucking piercing into Eddie, like he’s trying to see his bones.

“And I don’t care if you didn’t care,” Steve says firmly, his eyes shining brightly, his lip quivering. “It’s not— It’s not fair.”

The air feels tight, almost smoke-filled, like there’s a fire they’re both ignoring.

“Your life,” Steve says slowly, loudly, his eyes trained on Eddie like he’s worried he’s going to run, “is not yours to just throw away.”

“So, what, it’s yours?” Eddie snaps like he’s offended.

“Yes,” Steve yells roughly.

And the smoke clears.

Eddie’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking, and Steve’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking too. He’s breathing hard, his brows furrowed, and his lip quivers as he stammers silently.

“It’s mine,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “And Dustin’s. And Lucas’s, and Mike’s and Wayne’s, and everyone else on this goddamn planet that cares about you.”

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s hallowing out. Like Steve is carving his flesh and bone away with a knife. His eyes watch a tear fall from Steve’s eye to the floor, landing on the tile.

“What about you?” Eddie asks, still angry.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Steve snaps, his face hard as he almost glares at Eddie, his eyes still glistening. Eddie glares back, his brows furrowed, and he inhales slowly. The room is silent except the rain pounding on the roof, on the glass windows, except his and Steve’s stuttered breathing.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Steve,” Eddie says coldly.

Steve looks like Eddie’s slapped him.

“The kids told me about how you threw yourself at a raging psychopath,” Eddie says.

“That was—“

“And how in the same night you threw yourself in front of a pack of demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat.”

“That—“

“Nancy and Jonathan told me about how Nancy forced you leave at gunpoint,” Eddie says, his voice louder, moving closer without even noticing. His voice is shaking. “And you still went back.”

Steve stares. His eyes are wide, and he looks angrier than Eddie’s ever seen him, and even though there’s a pit of fear in Eddie’s stomach, he persists.

“And we all know about how you stayed behind to be interrogated, and tortured and damn near killed by those Russians.” Eddie’s almost yelling now, tears sparking his own eye as he gestures to Steve in anger, in outrage, in pain and love and everything else that’s swirling in his carved out chest like a hurricane.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie screams, finally breaking. His throat hurts. “You think those people don’t care about you?” he yells, gesturing aimlessly toward the door. “You think we don’t love you?”

He’s panting, almost numb with adrenaline and rage. His vision is blurry, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of the anger or if he’s crying. He ignores it.

“You have no right to lecture me on this when you and I both know you would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.”

And then Steve’s hand is grasping the front of Eddie’s shirt, and the breath is knocked from Eddie’s lungs as his back slams into the wall so hard he thinks it might be dented. He gasps for breath, and Steve’s face is too close to his, and this close he can see specks of green in his eyes, and he can see every tear that’s clinging to his eyelashes. And even when he’s radiating anger, he’s the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever seen.

“You gonna hit me, Stevie?” Eddie says even though he still can’t really breathe. Steve doesn’t say anything. His fist is gripping Eddie’s shirt so tightly it might rip, his knuckles pressing into Eddie’s chest so hard it hurts.

Eddie’s never been good at knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t get to be angry at me,” he says quietly, almost breathing the words. “Not when we’re exactly the same.”

Steve’s knuckles press even harder.

His lip is trembling, and Eddie’s eyes flick across his face, at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks, and the moles spotting his skin like stars, and he kisses him.

He pulls away just as quickly as he leaned in, his body flooding with heat as he realises what he’s just done, but Steve’s face doesn’t change. Still angry, seething, and the world is on fire, crushed under tidal waves and hurricanes and God’s wrath, and it’s Eddie’s fault. His eyes sting like there are chemicals in them, and he breathes out a soft shit before he tries to shove past Steve to escape before he can die.

Of course he’d survive this long, survive being beaten by a drunk before his bones were done growing, survive being the target of a witch hunt by townspeople with guns, survive being eaten alive by demonic bats, only to die untouched. Because he kissed a boy without thinking.

But Steve’s hand tightens on Eddie’s shirt, and he pushes Eddie back against the wall roughly. Eddie whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, flinching, and a few seconds pass before something presses to his forehead. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

Steve’s eyes are closed, his forehead on Eddie’s, and his hand releases the fabric of his shirt, his palm pressing, fingers spreading over Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s eyes burn, and he inhales sharply, trying desperately not to cry. His hands are hanging by his sides, trembling.

Steve pulls away after a moment, and all the anger is gone from his face. His eyes are almost closed, still glassy, and he looks exhausted, like he’s going to fall apart. But his hand is still steady on Eddie, pressed firmly.

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you,” Steve says so quietly the words almost get lost in the sound of the rain.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Softly, chastely, just barely catching his lower lip. Eddie can’t tell if his heart is even beating anymore, and his hands raise hesitantly as Steve does it again, slowly slowly slowly moving to touch Steve’s waist. His sweater is soft.

Steve’s other hand lifts and holds Eddie’s cheek so gently he can barely feel it on the mangled, sensitive skin of the ragged scar. And then their breaths are mixing as Steve presses his open mouth Eddie’s, and his tongue is slipping across Eddie’s lip and into his mouth. Eddie leans against the wall, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist, as his knees weaken.

The kiss doesn’t last long, because Steve is crying. Gasping for breath, holding Eddie tighter. Squeezing his eyes shut. Falling against Eddie.

Eddie slides his hands to Steve’s back, holding him close. His throat tightens, and he closes his eyes, suppressing a sob as he feels Steve’s shoulders shake.

“Don’t be mad,” Eddie says weakly, his voice wobbling, too high, too thin. Steve lifts his head, looking at him desperately.

“I can’t not be mad at you, Eddie,” he says. His voice is the same as Eddie’s. There are tears on his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away. “You lied to me,” he chokes. “You lied to me.” His hand curls into a fist that hits Eddie’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says softly, moving a hand to hold Steve’s fist against himself. Steve falls against him, his face in Eddie’s neck, and Eddie wraps his arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him away from the wall, so tight that Eddie gasps, and he sobs loudly, trembling.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, crying, and he slides down the wall, holding Steve to himself tightly, and Steve is wailing into Eddie’s neck, sobbing and shaking and gripping Eddie so hard he’ll probably bruise. Eddie’s back is to the wall, his arms around Steve’s neck, his face buried in his hair. He’s getting it wet with his tears, but it doesn’t really matter. His own hair is still wet from the rain.

Eddie is still apologising. He doesn’t even think Steve can understand him, because his own voice is so broken and tear soaked, and because Steve is sobbing like a child.

I lost you.

“No, you didn’t,” Eddie manages to say, shifting so his mouth is by Steve’s ear. “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

Steve cries into Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s skin is wet with his tears. The collar of his shirt is probably soaked. But he doesn’t care.

Steve’s sobbing turns into that awful hiccuping gasping sort of crying, and Eddie pulls away enough to kiss his forehead and hold his face.

“‘M right here,” he murmurs. There are tears in his own face that ignores.

Steve is leaning against him, his legs sprawled on the kitchen floor, and Eddie tugs him closer, wiping away his tears.

But Steve doesn’t ignore Eddie’s tears. He messily wipes them away before he clutches to Eddie’s face, his other hand grasping Eddie’s forearm tightly. His chest is rising and falling with every quick, gasping breath, and Eddie swallows his own tears as he looks at him, at his rosy, tear-streaked cheeks and running nose and chapped lips, and he wonders how long Steve’s been holding this all back.

“I’m here, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him. His eyes are glassy and exhausted again. Eddie wants him to go to sleep. Preferably in Eddie’s arms.

“Thirteen days, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. His voice rasps, dry and overused, and it sends a knife through Eddie’s heart.

“I know,” he breathes. “‘M sorry, Stevie.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his breathing finally slows, reaching to find Eddie’s wrist, and Eddie feels lightheaded when Steve’s fingers press into his pulse.

It’s not until Steve’s breathing is slow that Eddie finally detaches them, helps Steve up, and gets him a glass of water. After Steve gulps it all down, Eddie stretches the sleeve of his shirt over his fingers and steps closer to Steve, touching chin and using his sleeve to wipe his skin, under his nose and eyes and over his cheeks.

Steve’s eyes close, and he sways with the movements until Eddie’s hand pulls at his shoulder, and he falls against Eddie, exhaling heavily.

“‘M sorry,” Steve says softly after a few moments. His hands slide over Eddie’s waist.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Eddie murmurs, because the last thing he wants is Steve feeling like he can’t cry in front of Eddie.

“No, I was mean,” Steve says, almost whining, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He looks like he might start crying again. Eddie touches his cheek. “I was angry, I should have— I should have talked to you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie breathes, his voice accompanied by the quiet rumble of thunder outside.

“No, it’s not,” Steve says weakly, his hands gripping Eddie’s shirt. “‘S not okay, Eddie.”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie says, sighing and brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek softly. “You were an asshole. I forgive you.”

Steve’s eyes close and he falls forward, his forehead pressing to the side of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie threads his fingers through Steve’s hair gently.

“God, I missed you,” he says softly. “How’d I miss you so much?”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist tightly. Eddie brushes through his hair.

“Stay,” Steve says softly, his breath warm in Eddie’s neck. “Don’t want you to go.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. His body aches.

“I won’t go, Stevie.”

Carefully, hesitantly, he shifts and reaches down to Steve’s legs, tugging at his thighs until Steve exhales and nods, moving his arms to wrap around his neck. Eddie picks him up easily, smiling when Steve’s legs wrap around his hips, and Steve clings to him desperately as Eddie moves out of the kitchen, following the hallway until he finds the unreasonably large living room. He slowly lowers Steve to the sofa and then he lowers himself on top of Steve when Steve’s grip on him doesn’t relax.

“I’m sorry,” Steve breathes after a few moments. Eddie shifts to press a kiss to his neck.

“I know. Me too.” He pauses for a moment, then moves so his cheek rests on Steve’s chest. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

Eddie hesitates, moving a hand to press to Steve’s chest in front of his face, feeling the soft knit of his sweater.

“We love you.”

Steve’s arms tighten, and Eddie feels his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“You know we love you too, right?” Steve says softly. Lightning flashes outside, far away and soft. Eddie closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Kinda unbelievable,” he says quietly. Thunder rumbles.

“‘S true,” Steve says. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

Eddie presses his face into his chest, inhaling. He smells like laundry detergent and cologne, and like something that oddly familiar. Nostalgic. Eddie inhales again.

“Did you visit while I was under?” he asks quietly. Steve sighs.

“Could barely keep me away,” he say softly. “Worst thirteen days of my fucking life.” He takes a breath, sliding a hand to press over Eddie’s on his chest. He’s so warm. “Just held your hand ‘nd waited.”

Eddie laces their fingers, squeezing.

“Left to the bathroom in the hospital to clean your rings,” Steve says, his voice thin. Eddie opens his eyes. “The lights kept flickering, and I didn’t even care, I just… needed to clean them.”

Eddie lifts his head and looks down at him, his throat tight.

“That was you?”

Steve nods, his eyes shining as he looks up at him. His hair has fallen around his head like a halo. His cheeks are still rose, his eyelashes dark with tears like he’s wearing makeup.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of you… waking up with blood on your rings,” he says softly, one of his hands combing through Eddie’s curls that have fallen like curtains. “I don’t know. ‘S kinda dumb in the grand scheme of things.”

Eddie shakes his head, sniffling as his eyes burn.

“It’s not dumb, Stevie,” he says shakily. Steve’s fingers press to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Steve smiles softly, weakly, touching Eddie’s hair, and a tear falls from Eddie’s eye to Steve’s cheek, near his mouth. A soft laugh escapes Steve, and Eddie apologises, smiling, watching Steve blur. He starts to shift to wipe the tear away from Steve’s skin, but Steve beats him to it, wiping the tear with the tip of his middle finger before he brings the finger to his own lips, licking the tear off. Eddie scoffs.

“And they call me the freak.”

Steve smiles. His eyes are shining too.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

Eddie leans down and kisses him. He can taste the salt of his own tear in his mouth, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, groaning softly. Steve’s hands spread over his back, holding him so their bodies press together completely, before they slide to hold his head, his fingers curling into his hair.

The sound of rain outside fades like it’s being muffled as Eddie kisses him, as he listens to the quiet, weak noises escaping Steve’s throat, to the slick slide of their tongues, to their heavy breathing. He presses his fingers into Steve’s neck, feeling his blood rushing, his heart beating beneath his skin. Steve whimpers, and Eddie pulls away to look at him, at his screwed-shut eyes, his furrowed brows.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers.

Steve sniffs, opening his glistening eyes, and he pulls Eddie into a hug desperately, his face in Eddie’s neck as Eddie pushes a hand into his hair, closing his eyes.

“I was so scared,” Steve chokes, holding him tightly. “I thought you were gone.”

“No, I’m right here,” Eddie whispers, tugging his hair, kissing his jaw. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

It slips out, but Eddie doesn’t try to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. Especially not when Steve takes a shuddering breath and turns his head enough to kiss Eddie’s temple.

Eddie falls asleep with his face in Steve’s neck, breathing on his skin as he lays in top of him, their legs tangled together. Steve’s hand is holding Eddie’s throat in a way that makes his knees feel weak, his fingertips pressed into his pulse, and Eddie is holding his sweater in loose fists.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

They startle awake simultaneously, gasping and trying to sit up, and Steve fingers tighten around Eddie’s throat before he quickly lets go. Eddie shifts, trying untangle from him, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, his body aching.

“Fucking Christ, Robin, why?” Steve exclaims, his voice rough with sleep, rubbing his face as Eddie leans back, groaning loudly.

“We all thought we’d have to live in your silent treatment for the rest of our lives,” she says dramatically, and Eddie watches her, still squinting, as she moves around the sofa to collapse onto his and Steve’s legs. “So you guys talked?”

“More like screamed and cried,” Steve says, shifting, pulling his legs away to lean against the armrest of the sofa. She sits cross-legged, looking at them. “But yeah.”

Eddie shifts to lean against him, closing his eyes against the light. He’s never been a morning person, and still isn’t today. Especially when he was sleeping so peacefully, on Steve’s warm body. Eddie probably has the knit of his sweater pressed into his cheek like a print.

“Sounds like quite a night.”

Steve’s hand presses into Eddie’s hair as he hums softly, and Eddie exhales, relaxing against him. He could fall asleep again.

“You had quite a night too, didn’t you?” Steve asks, his voice almost suspicious, and Eddie smiles against him, moving closer. He loves how Steve as Robin can read each other’s minds like this. How they can take one glance at each other and just know whatever there is to know. Steve pulls at Eddie’s legs so he’s sitting across his lap, and Eddie tucks his face back into his neck.

“Uh. I mean—”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile in his voice. “V?”

“Uhm.”

Eddie lifts his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but Nancy appears in the doorway, carrying a tote bag like a baby. Her eyes find Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the sofa, and she exhales roughly.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

Steve looks sharply at Robin, eyes wide, and her face flushes with colour.

Oh.

“Finally what, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, ignoring Robin and Steve.

“You guys were becoming insufferable. You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God.” She steps up behind the sofa to look at Robin, whose gaze softens when it lands on her. “You gonna help?”

“Help with what?” Steve questions.

“My mom’s using the kitchen, so we’re making cookies here.”

Steve makes a face.

“Why do you always use my kitchen?”

“Because it’s nice,” Nancy says. “Duh. Robbie, come in.”

“Robbie?” Steve whispers as Nancy leaves, and Robin shoots him a look, scrambling to follow Nancy to the kitchen.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone. Eddie presses his face into his neck.

“‘S too fuckin’ early.”

Steve laughs softly, running a hand down Eddie’s leg, squeezing his thigh gently. Eddie kisses his neck softly. There’s a clatter in the kitchen, and Robin laughs.

“Hey,” Steve says after a moment, rubbing his leg.

“Mm.” He lifts his head when Steve doesn’t say anything, and he shifts to look at him. “What?” he asks softly.

Steve gazes at him for a moment, holding his leg with one hand as the other touches his cheek and then tucks his hair behind his ear. Eddie moves to straddle his hips, holding his shoulders and looking at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says quietly.

“I yelled at you too.”

Steve scoffs, playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair.

“I yelled at you first.”

Eddie pauses.

“Not… really.”

Steve just laughs lightly, closing his eyes and falling forward so his forehead presses to Eddie’s chest, just under his collarbone.

“Can you let me apologise, please?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Steve lifts his head and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s chin. No one’s ever kissed Eddie there.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says softly. “And I’m sorry for being mean.”

Eddie touches his cheek, almost petting it.

“I won’t yell at you again,” Steve says softly, firmly. “Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Mm.”

“What if I’m being an asshole?”

“Then I will very calmly tell you that you’re being an asshole.”

Eddie giggles softly, hiding his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve wraps his arms around him tightly. Eddie sighs, settling into his arms.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“Will you— Steve.” Steve laughs softly, tightening his arms. “Come on, man.”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Like… as soon as I walked into your house. That wasn’t fair.”

He lifts his head and touches their foreheads together, holding Steve’s face in his hands.

“I won’t yell at you ever again.”

“Not even when I’m being an asshole?”

“No,” Eddie says, laughing softly. “I’ll very calmly tell you you’re being an asshole.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers.

Steve tugs at Eddie’s waist, lifting his chin up wordlessly, and Eddie smiles at him before he presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Think I’m falling in love with you,” Steve murmurs when they part, his lips brushing Eddie’s.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, holding his cheeks so they squish a little bit. “King Steve falling for the freak. What would your loyal subjects think?”

“Who gives a shit?” Steve breathes, and something shifts inside Eddie.

“Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Steve smiles brightly, his eyes squeezing shut, and Eddie is free-falling off a cliff. He leans in and kisses him.

“How do you take coffee?” Steve asks quietly when they part, breathless.

Eddie kisses him again, sucking on his lower lip, smiling.

“Milk and sugar,” he murmurs against his mouth before kissing him again, holding his cheeks. Steve smiles against his mouth, his hands spreading across his waist before he slides one to the small of his back.

“Let me make you coffee,” Steve says.

Eddie groans softly, pressing his face into Steve’s neck again. He likes it here.

“Wanna go to bed.”

“Come on,” Steve says, laughing quietly, squeezing Eddie’s waist. “The girls are making cookies, maybe we can steal some dough.”

“Isn’t that unhealthy?” Eddie asks dryly.

“Kids eat cookie dough.”

���You’re saying I’m a kid?”

“‘M saying neither of us got to be kids for very long,” Steve says softly, and oh. Eddie kisses his forehead because he can’t kiss his mind. “Let’s go steal some cookie dough.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, but he doesn’t move, instead leaning down to kiss him softly, tenderly.

There’s a dash of flour on the top of Robin’s nose when they finally go into the kitchen. She and Steve exchange a look as Steve heads over to find the coffee.

“Why are you making cookies?” Eddie asks, hopping up onto the kitchen island to watch as Robin cracks an egg into the bowl Nancy’s mixing. “Is there a special occasion?”

“The Party’s coming over tonight for a movie night,” Nancy says. Steve turns around.

“What? Why?”

“Because your living room’s huge.”

“You guys keep making plans in my house without even telling me,” Steve mumbles, but Nancy points the whisk at him.

“Our house.”

He makes a face at her.

“Steve, is it cool if I smoke weed in our kitchen?” Eddie asks, and Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles softly.

“Only if you share.”

“Cool.”

He comes back with two joints and sticks one in Robin’s mouth as she’s cracking another egg, both of them holding still as he lights it for her.

“Thanks, Edster.”

“Ew.”

He sits on the island again, taking a slow drag as he watches Steve make the coffee, find the milk in the fridge and the sugar in a cabinet, watching the way he steps over the tile like he’s about to fall into a dance. He brings a mug over to Eddie when it’s finished and sets it down next to him.

“‘S hot.”

“You know what else is hot?” Eddie says without thinking, and Steve snorts, moving to stand between Eddie’s legs so the insides of his thighs press to his waist.

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at him, smiling easily, sliding his hands over Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie’s cheeks flush even though he’s the one technically flirting.

“…Nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Steve’s eyes are shining gleefully, like he knows exactly how he’s affecting Eddie. He jerks his chin up at the joint. “Gimme a hit.” But he doesn’t move his hands to take it.

So Eddie takes a long drag, taking Steve’s chin in his fingers, and then he leans down, brushing Steve’s lip with his thumb so Steve opens his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Eddie blows the smoke into his mouth, and Eddie smiles.

He hears Robin giggle as he’s gazing at Steve, watching the smoke drift out of his mouth slowly, and he looks past Steve to find her and Nancy standing together, trying to muffle their laughter in each other’s shoulders.

“Are you guys watching us?” Eddie asks, and Steve blinks his eyes open. Eddie runs a hand through his hair mindlessly.

“We can’t not,” Nancy says as Robin giggles again, taking a drag. “You just… command the space.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. Steve pulls Eddie into a kiss. Robin squeals. Steve flips her off without looking.

Nancy lets them have some cookie dough, but only after Robin rants to them about the dangers of salmonella poisoning. Steve leans against the counter between Eddie legs and holds up the spoon for him while Eddie holds the joint down for him.

Nancy procures a polaroid camera as if by magic. She probably just had it in the tote bag. Eddie is paying a ton of attention to her at the moment. He into notices the camera when there’s a flash of light, and she lowers it to reveal a grin. The photo goes on the fridge.

The weed smell is gone by the time the kids there in the evening, all piled into Argyle’s van, very unsafely but they’re all grinning and giggling when they stumble out. They all let out similar groans when they see Eddie‘s arm around Steve.

Thank God.

Jesus, finally.

Did you finally talk?

Are you guys friends now?

That’s Eleven. Eddie likes Eleven.

“Something like that,” he says to her, and her face lights up.

“Alright, everyone go inside,” Steve says, ignoring them all. His cheeks are pink. “It’s gonna rain again.”

As they’re headed inside, Eddie comes up behind Erica and scoops her up, holding her upside down over his back as she screams and laughs, hitting him.

When Eddie turn around, swinging her, Steve is watching with a smile that’s different than any smile he’s ever seen on him. Happy, but something more than that.

Content.

The kids all pile up on the sofa before the movie starts, bickering and arguing about who gets to sit where, who gets which blanket. Erica tells Dustin to move his legs because he’s touching her, and he throws his legs across her lap to be obnoxious. Lucas ends up between Max and Eleven, his arms around both of them. Will sets a leg over Mike’s leg. Nancy and Robin take residence on the smaller sofa, sitting close together despite the space on it, and Jonathan and Argyle sit on the floor against the sofa. Robin plays with Argyle’s hair.

Eddie waits until Steve is done attending to everyone, passing out soda cans and napkins and cookies and chips, rustling their hair and bopping their faces affectionately just to be annoying. And then he corners him in the kitchen, quiet as the movie starts in the other room.

He pushes Steve against a counter, and they’re kissing before he can even say anything, his hands on Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands on his face, over the scar on his cheek. Eddie tilts his head, letting his lips part, squeezing his waist, the softness above his waistband. Steve exhales sharply when they part, smiling.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. There’s something lingering on his face, in his eyes. “What is it?”

Steve hesitates, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ears.

“I don’t…” He stops, biting his lip as he gazes at Eddie. The room is dim, softly lit up by the light from the hallway. “It feels like… like something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” Eddie asks, tilting his head, his thumbs running back and forth.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers, his eyes trained on Eddie’s mouth almost absently, like he’s zoning out. “But it’s… it’s good that it’s gone. Like it was never supposed to be there, and then it was, and now it’s gone, and I…” He takes a slow breath, his chest rising and falling. “Feel like I can finally breathe.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah.” Steve says it like he’s just realising it, blinking and looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m really happy.”

Eddie smiles, reaching up to touch his face.

“Are you?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie blinks, his smile falling. And he thinks.

Feels Steve’s warm hands on his face, their legs twined. Listens to the muffled movie in the living room, the rain outside. Knows that almost everyone he loves is under the same roof. Safe.

“Yeah.” He looks at Steve. “I’m happy.”

Steve’s finger presses under his chin.

“We’re the same,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, smiling. “We are.”

Steve closes the distance between them to kiss him again, his teeth catching his lip carefully, his hands spreading over Eddie’s neck and cheek, covering his scars like he’s keeping them safe.

When they pull away, Eddie tugs him into a hug.

They squeeze onto the sofa next to Robin and Nancy afterwards, and Steve is smiling the whole time, squished between Eddie and Robin. Robin sets a leg over his, and Eddie sees him reach down to squeeze her tight gently before he elbows her against Nancy. After a minute, Steve pulls at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie looks away from the television to look at him, about to ask if he’s okay.

But Steve wordlessly pulls at Eddie’s arm so he’s lifting it over his head, and Eddie sets his arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. Steve leans against Eddie’s chest, a hand set on his leg. He squeezes when Eddie starts to play with his hair, and Eddie feels him fall asleep after a minute, heavy against him, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with every breath.

He sighs, dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair as gently as he can, tilting his head to look at him, but he can’t see his face. So he just sighs again and presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

He looks up across the room, scanning over all the kids. Eleven is asleep against Lucas, an arm over his stomach, and Max is holding Lucas’s hand that’s by her shoulder, squeezing his fingers. Erica’s brows are furrowed in concentration as she watches the movie.

Will is looking back at him.

Or rather, Eddie realises after a moment when the television screen changes, brightening, he’s looking at Steve. At Steve sleeping against Eddie’s chest, holding his thigh, at Eddie’s fingers in his hair. Will is smiling, looking almost curiously, and his smile grows when his eyes meet Eddie’s.

Eddie jerks his chin up at him, gesturing vaguely, silently at Mike next to him, and Will looks away, at Mike. He seems to hesitate, looking back at the television, biting his lip, and then he finally lets his head fall to Mike’s shoulder. Mike smiles at the tv, and after a moment his head falls to rest on Will’s. Will’s eyes close.

Eddie sighs, shifting to settle into the sofa. Steve nuzzles into his chest, a soft noise escaping him, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair again, closing his eyes and listening to the rain.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Little Bunny 5

Yandere William Afton/Steve Raglan x reader

Dead dove do not eat! - you will get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: FNAF, mature themes, primal play, fear play, William slowly shows his obsessive side to reader.

Your third shift was about to start, you brought the taser from your friend with you and stepped inside the Pizzeria. You checked the parts and service room and saw Springbonnie sitting there, his eyes weren't glowing and you went back to the office.

12:10 AM.

You sat down on the chair and watched the security cameras, not noticing Freddy standing at the right side and looking at you through the glass.

"Freddy!" You exclaimed and opened the door and hugging him, "Why weren't you and the others there last night? I've missed you so much!" you said as he looked down at you and made a concerned expression on his face.

You slowly pulled away and sat down on the chair again as soon enough, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy joined you and kept you company once again.

At around 2:10 AM, the Animatronics slowly made their way back towards their spots. You sat there for another few minutes as suddenly...

All the lights went out, the doors automatically opened and everything went dark as you realized the power shut off once again,

you stood up and walked to the wall behind you to the switch. You flipped it and the power came back. Then you noticed something to your left.

It stood there, it's white dots staring at you. "Oh shit!" you gasped at the surprise but Springbonnie didn't move, it stood still.

"You're in animatronic mode?" You asked but Springbonnie didn't budge. After a second, it stepped forward one small step. This time it looked much more robotic.

William under the suit was smirking devilishly as he made another small step towards you.

Another step...

And another one...

"Hey, woah, not so close, rabbit." You stepped back and Springbonnie tilted it's head at your words.

He took another step towards you and you noticed the last step was much more human again and stepped back.

"I said stop. That's close enough, Springbonnie." you warned and it stopped immediately. You let out a sigh of relief, "Can you like- go? I need to do my job. Please." You said but it didn't move once more, as if not listening to your demand.

Then Springbonnie took another step closer to you as you unsheathed your taser and aimed at him. He tilted it's head again and it's movements became more human.

"Stop right there!" You warned again but he didn't stop. That's where you knew it's whoever was in the suit last night was in the suit again, you took aim at it's chest and shot the charge.

ZAP!

Normally any animatronic would have a short circuit but Springbonnie kept standing but tensed a little, the only evidence of the taser charge were the few blue sparkles over his body.

Springbonnie laughed menacingly at you before quickly lunging at you and pushing you so hard, you were slammed into the wall at the right hallway. The air got knocked out of your lungs as Springbonnie towered over you and reached behind, unsheathing the same kitchen knife it had last night. He looked down at you and swiped the blade with it's other hand,

"You thought it was over? You thought you escaped me?" It laughed as you quickly pushed yourself up and went to run away, but you tripped over Springbonnie's foot as he made you fall and trip.

"Aww, looks like you won't escape this time!" he walked towards you as you got up and ran towards the kitchen once again, but you ran past it and went to hide behind an old arcade game as you heard it approach.

Springbonnie went inside the kitchen and you peeked out, seeing him moving towards Golden Freddy and stopping infront of him.

"Are you inside there again, bunny?" he asked and bent down to grab Golden Freddy by it's throat and lifting it up, peering inside it's eyeholes to search for you.

'How does he know I was inside there? I didn't tell anyone. Except for Mr. Raglan.' you thought as you saw Springbonnie growl in frustation and dropped Golden Freddy onto the floor and turning around to walk out.

"Don't think you can hide forever, little bunny. I will find you eventually, and when I do...you'll be mine..." Springbonnie said as it walked out of the kitchen, past your hiding spot and into the restrooms to look for you there.

You carefully moved out from your hiding spot and sneaked over to Pirate's Cove.

"Where are you, sweet little thing? Got all scared and ran away, hmm?" You heard it say as you pushed the curtains open, looking inside to see Foxy standing there motionless. "Psst! Foxy!" you whispered but Foxy didn't react, almost as if he was deactivated. You looked behind you to see if Springbonnie was there. Once you didn't spot him you climbed into Pirate's Cove and hid behind Foxy just in time as you heard these haunting loud metallic steps come back.

William inside the suit knew you were still in the building since he had locked the entrance and if you would try to unlock it he would have already heard it. He didn't deny that he found himself enjoying the hunt so much, especially since he was hunting down you and not some scumbag like so many times before. William could feel his cock harden at the thought of what he would do to you once he caught you in his fingers.

You held your breath as the steps got louder and louder, forcing your eyes shut and clamping a hand over your mouth, you froze in fear hoping it won't find you.

"Ohhh, night guard! Where are you! I already searched everywhere for you. Maybe you're here?" It asked as it stopped near Pirate Cove and suddenly the music started playing, curtains pushed back on the stage could be heard along with robotic moves. Then Foxy was driven forward on the platform he was standing at and the curtains of Pirate Cove opened.

You paniced, and saw Springbonnie looking inside Pirate Cove,

"There you are!"

You took a breath and ran out of Pirate Cove, jumping down and making your way towards the office. Once there you closed both doors and took another taser charge from your bag and reloaded the taser.

Springbonnie soon arrived and slammed it's palm against the glass, "What do you think you're doing, huh? Trapping yourself in the office like the scared bunny you are? Cute." It chuckled.

"I've already beat your ass last night, I can do it again." You gripped the taser in your hands and prepared yourself for any surprises.

"Aww, really? With nothing to defend yourself other than the taser that isn't working on me? Don't make me laugh." It chuckled again.

"What the fuck do you want from me? Who are you!" You demanded as Springbonnie stepped closer to the glass.

"See? I told you you're different, bunny. Do you know how much I've enjoyed watching you? And seeing the fear in your eyes now feels just too good! And now you have nowhere to go...the only way out is through me..." it chuckled.

"Just to let you know, sweetheart. Once the power goes out, I'm gonna get you and you'll be mine."

[fe-fictions]

Are there any other bath tent prompts left over from The Great Deletion™? (If so, I have a preference for Lon'qu. If not, I just reeeally like bath tent prompts so anyone flies.)

(I have Frederick's still mercifully, but other than that I don't have any left! ;; 3 ;; which sucks because the Basilio and Vaike ones were rly good U m U )

When Frederick heard your scream across camp, he was terrified. Had you been assaulted? Ambushed, or worse?

He grabbed his lance and sprinted off, rushing towards your cries and curses when he found himself in the midst of a very strange scene.

There stood Lord Chrom, the flaps to the women’s bathing tent wide open, and dozens of projectiles. He quickened his pace with the intent to drag Chrom out of the line of fire and engage whoever was throwing things at him.

However, when he came in sight of the thrower, he realized it was you; wrapped crudely in a towel, soaked from head to toe with suds still running along your skin, mid-throw of the last soap dish. His grip tightened on Chrom’s arm. The Exalt was peeping on his wife.

“Would someone please explain what in the gods’ names is going on?!” Frederick demanded icily, quick to turn Chrom away from his view of you. He had yet to release the man, much to his discomfort.

“I-I was just looking for Robin to ask her a question, Frederick! I didn’t realize where I was until she started screaming, a-and then…it was an accident, I swear! I didn’t mean to-”

“Accident?!” You suddenly jumped in, storming over to the pair now covered with your coat. Your face was a deep scarlet, fury barely overruling your embarrassment. “It’s the women’s bath! How hard is it for you to see  that?!”

“She has a point, milord. Surely you should be familiar with the camp’s layout.” Frederick replied, narrowing his eyes at Chrom. “I find it hard to believe you capable of this, but it brings me terrible sorrow and, dare I say, fury, to see you staring at my wife.” He said, and had Chrom shaking  in his boots.

“F-Frederick I swear, I didn’t mean to peep on her, a-and that’s the truth!” Chrom would’ve disappeared if he could. “Please Frederick, Robin’s my best friend! I’d never jeopardize that.”

“I wish to believe you, milord,” Frederick said in a clipped tone as he released the Exalt. He sighed sharply and came to your side, “However, your actions speak louder than your words. For now, return to your duties until I summon you for proper disciplinary action. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” Chrom sounded meek and frightened; two things you never thought him capable of.

You watched him trudge off for a few moments before Frederick guided you away, taking your hand tightly in his. The ridged, angry confliction in his expression had yet to fade.

“Until I make my decision, we should get you properly dressed. If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re in need of clothes beneath that coat.”

“Y-you’re not.” You blushed, the adrenaline and shock of what happened to you slowly starting to fade. Frederick picked up on the warble in your voice swiftly, and could see the unshed tears glistening in your eyes.

He made good time returning to the tent, latching the flap shut and making sure it was absolutely secure. Then he turned his full attention to you, assessing the situation.

You looked down at your feet, your hand never once letting go of his. You had been mortified, and now that the anger cleared, you were nothing short of ashamed.

Wordlessly he detached his chestplate and the armor about his upper body, knowing precisely what you needed. You barely got a question out of your mouth before he  drew you into his embrace.

“F-Frederick…?”

“Forgive me. I was not diligent enough in protecting you.” He murmured in a soft, remorseful whisper that had you frozen. “I failed you, and for that, I must apologize to you, my love.”

“You’re not the one who walked in on me.” You giggled weakly, but reciprocated his hug all the same. You buried your face in his chest, your hot tears dampening his clothes along with your soaking hair.

Frederick didn’t mind it. His fingers gently stroked your hair, the guilt that racked him far more powerful than his anger.

“All is well, my sweet. I highly doubt he did such a thing on purpose. The odds of him speaking to anyone about it is minimum, and if he even considers it I’ll be swift to punish. …Severely.”

All you could do was nod against him, calming yourself down slowly with the help of his gentle touches and reassurances.

At some point he settled you on the bedroll, fetched a towel and worked on drying your hair very gently. His tender touch soothes your shame, all the anxiety and fear you felt as a result of the mad debacle starting to ebb away.

You sigh after some time and bury your face in your hands, letting him continue his sweet ministrations.

“I can’t believe he did that…he saw me, Frederick. Gods, I’m never gonna live it down. It was so embarrassing…and then for you to come and see him, too…” You groaned, and he frowned softly.

“I think no less of you for what happened; you needn’t be ashamed.” He assured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. “It was an extremely unfortunate accident…at least, that is how I prefer to view it  unless evidence proves otherwise.”

“You really want it to be an accident, don’t you?” You mumbled, slowly turning to look at him. Frederick shifted some and gave a soft grunt, brow furrowed.

“I know that Lady Emmeryn raised him properly, and I was quite strict and attentive, myself. He was brought up with strong morals, and the idea of him peeping on anyone, let alone you, my beloved, is difficult to believe. Lord Chrom is well known for being oblivious, after all.”

“Even to this level?” You replied, unconvinced.

“I wish to punish him severely, my sweet. There is a rage…white and hot that is building whenever I think that he looked upon you…gods, it is infuriating. However, he is also my liege, and the years we’ve spent together, I simply…I find it hard to believe he’d do it on purpose.”

“I want to believe it, too. I hope that your investigation brings about an innocent Exalt.” You offered with a tired sigh, leaning your head against his chest. Frederick set the towel aside and drew his arms around you, his soothing warmth returning and relaxing your tension.

“As do I. …However, regardless of the results, he will still receive harsh punishment.” He stated seriously, making you smile against his skin.

“Harsh, you say? How harsh would you be?”

“Well, we mustn’t forget that it was my wife he looked upon. Therefore, if he did it purposely, he will be worked until his limbs cannot be lifted anymore. Verbal reprimands will carry on for several hours, followed by an extensive lesson on conduct in the army, and three times the chores for the following year.”

“My goodness.” You blushed, “How valiant of you.”

“It is the least I can do for you, Robin. Besides, that’s only off the top of my head. I still have plenty of options to think up.”

“Look at you, defending me as knight and husband.” You smirked up at him, brushing your fingers across his cheek. He took your hand gently and kissed your fingertips, beaming at you.

“I swore to do so, did I not?”

“You did, however…I feel as though I should repay you for your efforts.”

“There is no need for a reward. Easing your worries and bringing justice to milord is reward enough.”

“Then perhaps you could help me with something, instead. So long as you don’t think of it like a reward, it should work just fine.”

"What’s that?”

“Well, Chrom’s eyes did wander a bit. He saw an awful lot of me, you know.” You began, fiddling with the buttons on your coat. “And…I’m not wearing anything beneath this.”

Frederick was very quick to catch on, and grasped your waist, turning you into the bedding and helping you remove the coat.

“Tell me where he looked at you, my precious wife…I will erase his gaze from your body.” He promised with a swift, deep kiss, which was quick to delve into far deeper, sweeter intimacy between you.

Chrom didn’t really see anything, thanks to the thickness of the steam. However, you weren’t about to tell Frederick that, especially not after he ravished you so (and punished Chrom for his foolishness promptly after. The poor Exalt couldn’t look you in the eye for weeks afterwards).

[voxmyriad]

Cal Kestis Week Day Six: Echoes of the Future

Prompt: Laugh | “Follow my lead.” | A Different Choice | Echo

Hit all four again for the last prompt day!

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Cal Kestis, Bode Akuna

Additional Tags: Could be pre-shipping, Force Echoes, Cal does trust too easily, But that heart of his can't let anyone go until they make him

"What is this for, Papa?"

"I have to be gone a longer while again, and if I can't take you with me, I can at least take a part of you."

His gaze sweeps across their quarters, still a stark Imperial gray, but with as much light and life as Bode had been able to put in. Nothing shines brighter than Kata, standing in the middle of the floor, hands folded neatly in front of her as Bode takes a holo to remind himself why he's doing this. Who he's doing this for. It gets harder and harder each time—or maybe it's getting easier and that feels harder.

Kata's quiet smile appears at the end of the holo and he snaps it off, smiling back at her. "Thanks. That's perfect, little star."

She picks up Mookie from under the table and hugs him, as if already anticipating sitting and waiting for him to return. His heart squeezes tight. "Where are you going this time?" she asks.

"Coruscant."

"Coruscant," she repeats, like she's tasting the word.

"I'll take you someday."

As the purple-gray glow fades from the edges of his vision and the real world returns, Cal stares down at the little holo-puck in his hand. Bode had left it on the table in the Mantis. Cal had swept it up to hand it back to him without thinking. It's rare that he doesn't spot an echo in the Force before touching an object, but he hadn't been looking for one. Hadn't expected one.

Hadn't expected that.

When he looks up, Bode is watching him with a hunted expression. Cal's eyes narrow and Bode immediately looks down at the puck as if fearful Cal won't give it back. So Cal gives it back, and as Bode picks it up, he asks, "Is Kata safe?" His voice is neutral, dangerously so, and he knows Bode picks upon it.

"Safe enough," Bode says shortly as he secures the puck again.

"Safe enough on an Imperial base?"

And that's when Bode goes as still as a statue. His blaster is in his hand. He'd been fiddling with it the way he always does on a trip through hyperspace. The way he always does in Pyloon's, too, now that Cal thinks about it. "What did you see?" he asks at last. He's matching Cal's neutral tone, and his head is turned away now.

"I saw Kata," Cal says steadily, unwilling to look anywhere else. If Bode is going to try and kill him right now, Cal intends to see it coming. "I saw where you and Kata are staying. It's cute, that little tent in the corner with her pillows, and her toys. But it's still an Imperial base. Why is she safe on an Imperial base, Bode?"

"You weren't supposed to see that," Bode murmurs, fingers tightening on the butt of the blaster.

"Yeah. Probably not." But I did, he doesn't add aloud. He doesn't need to. It floats between them, and it's up to Bode to make the next move.

He doesn't. They have things to do, Cal has to get going to meet whoever Cere's sending to meet him, but neither of them move. Greez has already gone outside, so it's just them here, and the enormity of Bode's secret ballooning to fill the space.

Cal isn't sure how long they stand there. It's probably not long at all in real time, but he's going through every memory he's got of Bode, and the things Bode has said to get him on board, to make him sympathetic, to get past his defenses. And yet, he's still waiting.

Whatever is going through Bode's mind, finally his shoulders sag. "How far is too far for you, Kestis?"

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you talking to that Inquisitor on Coruscant."

What? Bode had heard that? Where had he been? No, not important, Cal tells himself, not important right now. "Yeah. Her name was Masana Tide."

"And the one who took the holocron on Bogano."

"Trilla. Trilla Suduri." His heart still clenches a little when he thinks of Trilla, how they'd finally gotten through to her just the slightest bit, and how she'd been cut down for it. The best Inquisitor out there, but that much hesitation had cost her her life, and her final plea had been for vengeance.

"They were Inquisitors. They hunted and killed Jedi, or worse. And you still talked to them like…like you could bring them back."

"Yeah."

Slowly, like he's moving underwater, Bode holsters his blaster. Cal still doesn't move, letting Bode set the pace for this, whatever this is. "So, how far is too far?"

"I don't know. How far are you?" Stay outside, Greez, Cal thinks silently. They really don't need to get interrupted right now.

Bode's fingers flex, and the Force warns Cal of imminent danger just before Bode says, "Too far." He gets his hand on his blaster, but Cal is next to him in a blink with his hand on top of Bode's.

"Are you sure?" Bode still isn't meeting his eyes, but Cal is still looking, steady and calm, pushing down his anger for now. If this is what he suspects, that means it's Bode's fault that Bravo is dead, and Gabs, and the twins, and he hates that—but it's Trilla's fault that Prauf is dead, and he'd still tried. "Can't come back from this. There's still time."

"Why do you trust so easy, Scrapper?" Bode's voice has gone like gravel, but Cal's nickname is back.

"Bad habit, I guess," Cal says with a shrug.

That actually prompts a huff of wry laughter, and Bode relaxes his hand again, steps back, drops onto the seat with his head in hs hands. "I can't lose her, Cal. I can't. She's all I have left," he whispers.

Carefully, Cal steps closer and sits too, fingers laced loosely between his knees. "Not all," he says quietly. "Is she in trouble?"

Bode lets out another broken laugh. Cal had found out on Coruscant that Bode has a nice laugh, a deep chuckle that he'd wanted to hear again. This pale, sorrowful imitation twists Cal's heart, despite the anger simmering under the surface. "Only if I do what I'm doing right now."

"Can we go get her?"

That actually prompts Bode to look up again. "What?"

"Kata. Can we get her? She's on a base, right?" Cal shrugs. "It won't be the first Imp base I've infiltrated."

"You don't know who I am. You don't know anything about me, what I've done—"

"I know that better than you," Cal points out a little curtly. "You can tell me. You can try to shoot me. Or I can go meet Cere's contact, and then we can plan on how to get her back to you."

"Back to Koboh? Between the Raiders and the Imps, it's no safer for her there."

"Do you really believe that?" No answer. Cal continues, "She's better off with you. We'll keep her safe. And then they won't have anything to make you do what you're doing anymore."

He's increasingly conscious of how much time is passing. Greez is still outside, but for how much longer?

"I have to go," he says gently, "but you're okay, Bode. Follow my lead, we'll figure this out together. Just—don't change your mind again."

Bode exhales and sits up, scrubbing a hand down his face and through his hair. "Yeah. You better get going. …Cal."

Cal pauses halfway to the door and looks back. Bode hasn't moved. "I'm sorry about Bravo. All of them. I am."

"Later," Cal says quietly. "I promise."

"Right. Later. Got it. Good luck out there, Scrapper."

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Alan discovered a secret and one time he kept one (Part Two)

Part 1 | Part 2

I wrote the next chapter! Two in a row :D Unfortunately there won't be one tomorrow as work will be from 8am to beyond 8pm, but will write as soon as I can.

Thank you soo much for all the kind comments you left on Part One. Thunderfam is amazing ::hugs you all so much::

Thank you again to the wonderful @onereyofstarlight for reading through and supporting me :D ::hugs you extra tight::

I hope you enjoy :D

-o-o-o-

Alan glared at Thunderbird One as she shot out of her hangar beneath the pool.

Why today? The first day that both Dad and Scotty were going to be home since he had finished school for the summer break. He had had plans!

After watching the Launch together, there should have been some Dad and big brother time down at the beach. Gordon and Virgil were over on Aotearoa for a swim meet. John was in space, as usual, Grandma was doing some remote medical consultations and the day had supposed to be just the three of them.

If he wasn’t eleven, he would stamp his feet like a two-year-old.

He understood that what his father and brothers did was important. But he was important, too! They hadn’t done anything as a family for ages and they were always getting interrupted!

One was long gone, along with Uncle Lee and Thunderbird Two, both tearing off into the west, but Alan continued to glare at the blue sky, hating whoever had chosen this moment to steal the light speed ship. The launch had been so cool and Dad, Scotty and Johnny linked in…it had been so much fun watching it together…

So much for that.

John had cut him off from watching the rescue. Dad was against Alan seeing his family in action no matter how Alan pleaded.

His space brother had taken to providing some edited and ‘safe’ versions of some of the rescues his family took part in. But only some, and there was a little terrified voice in the back of Alan’s mind that spoke of horrors unseen.

His father and brothers had come home hurt on more than one occasion.

The sky ignored his glaring.

Okay, fine. He was grown up enough to understand why things like this happened. He wasn’t a baby.

It just sucked.

Another little voice in his head piped up to declare that sitting here moping was far from useful to himself or anyone else.

The voice sounded far too much like his big brother.

Though he wasn’t sure which one. All of them liked to give him ‘advice’.

Grumping, he pushed himself to his feet. Maybe Kayo could come down to the beach with him. Even though she was older by a few years, she was always happy to keep him company.

He stood up and realised he felt better for making a decision and having something to do.

He ignored that little voice that proclaimed ‘I told you so’.

Virgil. Though Gords was generally the smart ass, so it could be him.

Scotty just smiled and John looked all knowing, and you know what? Yeah, his brothers were slowly driving him insane.

Kayo was out on her rounds with her Dad. Kyrano was their security specialist. Gordy reckoned Kyrano and Kayo had lived on the Island before Dad bought it. He said that one of the little beach huts had been their house.

Alan thought Gordon was pulling his leg.

Knowing the Island was Kyrano’s job. He regularly made his rounds checking the sensor network and the stuff that kept their island hidden. Kayo went with him as she wanted to be just like her Dad.

Alan could understand that. After all, Alan wanted to be just like his Dad, too.

That thought brought up the fact that Dad wasn’t here right at this moment and the annoyance along with it.

Be almost like his Dad.

The guilt that accompanied that thought followed him down the stairs and out into the warm and sunny morning.

Perfect beach weather.

He grit his teeth.

Get over it already.

He stomped past the pool and out onto the gravel path that ultimately encircled the Island, purposefully taking the opposite direction to which he knew Kyrano worked, hoping to meet them towards the end of the process.

There was a breeze rattling the palm trees above him and many of the pokey trees were sporting their fluffy red flowers. Birds were arguing amongst them.

They were pretty lucky to live here, he had to admit. How many other kids lived on an Island in the tropics?

Well, he didn’t live here all the time. The last couple of years, he had shared his time with Kyrano’s house in Kumeu, Aotearoa, so he could go to school. It was close to both his and Gordon’s school and the GDF airport. Convenient for a family who used rocket ships and planes for transport.

Yeah, his life was so cool sometimes.

He had to admit that he hadn’t wanted to leave the farm when he found out about his father’s plans.

It had been scary and he had said goodbye to so many friends.

But Scotty had promised that he would fly him wherever he wanted to go whenever he could, and, bar rescues, his big brother had stuck to his word. Not only had Scotty flown him to Kansas several times, but to many other places. Alan was so lucky. He had seen and done so many things other kids his age couldn’t even conceive.

Of course, there were the secrets. He wasn’t allowed to talk about International Rescue and he understood why. It was hard, but he did his best.

Scotty said he was proud of Alan.

That only made Alan want to try harder. One day he would fly rockets just like his brothers and save people.

He made it past Two’s runway, around the edge of its backing cliff and onto the west side of the Island. The moment he stepped into the open air, the breeze strengthened, tousling his hair and pushing his t-shirt up against his chest, the material rippling like the waves on the water below.

It wasn’t cold, just cool, and smelled of the ocean that stretched blue to the horizon.

He paused a moment to stare out into the distance.

So cool.

The path wound back into the forest as it skirted the edge of the Island. Along here were the sensors that reported to Thunderbird Five, and the cloaking technologies keeping them safe. Alan wanted to know how they worked, but he hadn’t quite managed it yet. Brains talked gobblety-gook when he asked. John and Virgil had given him an outline, but it wasn’t enough. John said he needed some elementary physics education before it would all make sense.

Alan had asked John to teach him.

So that’s how he ended up with a physics curriculum for the summer holidays. If it took him a step closer to being able to fly Thunderbird Three, he was all for it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

It was tearful and…female.

Kayo?

“I couldn’t tell you, Tanusha, you were too young.” Kyrano’s quiet and measured tones were in stark contrast.

“How can you be so calm?!”

“I have no proof.”

“But you said it was him.”

Alan stood frozen in the middle of the path. Kayo sounded like she was crying. That in itself told him she wouldn’t want him hearing her.

He slipped quietly off the trail and stepped behind the remains of an old rockfall. He would let them pass and then sneak away.

She would never have to know.

Kyrano’s calm voice danced along the cliff to Alan’s ears. “I am certain. However, he is difficult to locate and vengeance is unrequited. I speak of this now so you are aware.”

“I was aware before. Now I just want to kill him.”

“Daughter, do not let him take more than he already has.”

“But the Tracys…”

“Mr Tracy is aware of the threat.”

“They used to work together!”

“No longer.”

“Does he know-?”

“He knows enough.”

“You didn’t tell him?!”

There was a pause. “Mr Tracy knows enough. I do not wish to burden him with something that might provoke needless guilt.”

“Father, the Tracys are blameless. The brothers-“

“Do not know. Do not need to know. Mr Tracy is a force of good in this world. One of far too few. He knows of Gaat’s character and has treated him as such.”

“But you said he killed Mum.”

Alan sucked in a breath. Kayo’s mom?! He and his brothers had always shared the loss of their mother with Kayo. Kayo had lost hers, too, dying when she was very young. There hadn’t been much detail other than it had been sudden and Kyrano refused to talk about it, just like Dad. It was an unspoken rule, ‘don’t ask about the dead for fear of upsetting the living’. Well, once spoken…by Gordon, after a fight with their father.

Alan hadn’t asked about that either. He hated it when Gordon cried.

But someone had killed Kayo’s mom?! Someone called Gaat?

Why didn’t Kyrano want to tell Dad? What guilt? What didn’t he know?

“Alan, report back to the villa.”

He jumped. John’s voice from his collar comms startling him.

Before he could answer, Kyrano tore past at a full run, Kayo attempting to keep up with him. Her eyes flickered in Alan’s direction but only for a moment.

“Alan, now! We need you home.” There was something horrible in John’s voice, a panic.

Frowning, Alan automatically obeyed, his legs moving before his thoughts were sorted. He thumbed his collar. “FAB. What’s wrong?”

“T-There’s been an accident.”

-o-o-o-

Part 3

Author's note: If you are interested in Alan's adventures in Kumeu (several months after the events here) I have two fics about Alan at school here - Anna Kent.

[shmowder]

seeing a lot of asks regarding poly daniil and artemy and I'd love to join in too. i think it would be real funny if whenever daniil or artemy fought with eachother they used the reader as some type of relief, can be nsfw or sfw.

the idea of them getting all angry over the other only for both of them to use the same person as some type of break is a bit funny.

Could I interest you in some modern au?

Fluff

They've been at it for hours.

You'd think three grown adults could easily come to a compromise when it comes to a trival matter as picking a movie to watch, especially two whole doctors who save lives on the daily.

Apparently not.

You groan against the pillow you've been hugging, burying your face into it as Daniil and Artemy's voices somehow become even louder as they attempt to talk over each other.

This is even worst than the time Daniil thought it was a brilliant idea to take Artemy tie shopping, or that other time Artemy left the front door open and his pet—the family's pet bull managed to get inside and left a very clear–and smelly–personal statement on Daniil's leather shoes.

Since when did either of them even care about movies or watching TV at all?

Maybe it was the "baby shark" music video Murky kept on loop all morning, which fried their brain, and now control over the TV remote is one short hill they'll certainly die on.

This is it, you're too done with those two gaint babies. With a quick motion you snatch the remote from the No Man's land coffee table and click on the first option you see. Announcing that this is the movie now, they've both lost their chances and since you have the remote it means you get to decide.

...What you didn't realise was that all they heard is "whoever gets the remote will decide" You know, the current remote in your hands.

All sense of decorum is thrown out the window as the Bachelor of Medicine himself gives you a polite smile before bouncing on you like a snake chasing after a mouse.

Your back slamming against what felt like a gaint bear, Artemy's hand akin to a claw as it easily envelopes your own with the remote and keeps it out of reach from Daniil's grubby fingers.

The two are in a standoff with you in the middle.

In an instant, you're pulled closer from opposite directions and tugged around, their hands gunning for the prize held tightly in your own, only for the other man to immediately pull you out of reach.

Daniil's hair is a complete mess. The usual combed style black strands each developed a mind of their own as they faced completely different directions. The catty man is this close to resort to biting Artemy's hand away, which keeps a steel grip against yours on the remote.

Meanwhile, this hulking surgeon is struggling not to slide off of the couch from Daniil suddenly cornering you against him at the far end. He considers pulling the remote–alongside your hand–under his sweater to protect them from Daniil's unusually sharp fangs.

-

Smut

Of course the two most petty men to have walked the face of the earth couldn't have left their disagreement at the door when bedtime rolled around.

Now it's Artemy's teeth grazing your neck, so much for giving Daniil shit for biting his hand when he himself isn't sparing a single patch on your skin without marking it in some way or form.

You try to adjust your legs, but Daniil keeps them secured against his shoulder, face buried directly between your thighs. Kissing alongside your sensitive spots, looking incredibly smug for a man on his knees as he swallows down the remains of your cum.

They're unbelievably stubborn as they use your body to settle their argument. You don't think they even remember which movie they originally wanted to pick. At this point, it's too personal for them to back down.

God Daniil's mouth is relentless, to think Artemy's cock was stretching you open not a minute ago and now it's replaced by the Bachelor's tongue.

You feel Artemy's semi-hard against your back, grinding against you as. His arms wrapped around you so tenderly as if he wasn't just using your as his personal fleshlight, setting a merciless pace as he bounced you up and down his cock.

The taste of Daniil's cum is still thick on your tongue, as if he deliberately made sure to be the last to finish inside your throat so you may spend the rest of the night thinking of him. So you can taste nothing but his cum even as Artemy's cock stretches you open.

One minute, they're intense and passionate as they fill your holes and flood your brain with pleasure so much it's borderline painful.

The next they're soft and gentle as they lick your bruised skin and press kisses against your temple, massaging your shaking thighs, Daniil's honeyed words of reassurance washing over you, putting you into an almost trance of wanting to obey and please him.

Artemy's embrace making you feel so safe, being held by him, protected by your husband who will never let anything bad touch you in this world.

Daniil's sinfully angelic moans as you ride him, how pretty he looks with his hair sprawled on the pillow, framing his face as he holds intense desire in his eyes.

Artemy's hands guiding your hips, making you grind down until Daniil's cock is pressing against that rough patch of skin inside you, how easy it is for him to move your body around and lift your hips up and down.

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Man After Midnight Ch. 10

Rich Mans World Series | Chapter 9| Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

Chris stood by the casket and stared at it, the huge mountain of flowers on top, Tommy would have hated it, he would have killed someone for decking his funeral out in flowers. He wasn’t the flowers and chocolates kinda guy. “How could you be so stupid?” Chris whispered to himself. Heels clicking up the isle of the church made Chris turn around. The slender blonde woman he’d only seen once in his life was storming toward him. “How did this happen?!” she cried out, the small boy, whom she’d tugged down the way with her, stared up at Chris with sad eyes. “He was a father, how am I supposed to raise this kid on my own?!” she hissed at him. “What did you do?? Are you going to find whoever was responsible and take care of it?!” she asked. Chris pulled them into a hug and whispered in her ear. “If you dont shut the fuck up and play the grieving widow part a lot better, I’m gonna take you out next, do you fuckin understand me?” he kissed her cheek and patted the other one. 

“Chris, please, I loved Tommy, what happened?” she cried into her hand. “He was found at a woman's house, love letters surrounding them both, autopsy said he killed himself.” Chris said softly as they moved away from the casket. She bit her lip and opened her purse pulling out a piece of paper. As she unfolded it she spoke softer, “Could this person maybe know more?'' She handed him the photo. “Found that on our security camera, That was taken the night Tommy died. I don't know who was with him, but that image is all I have. I’ll get the video to you this week.” she whispered. 

Chris stared at the image, it was Tommy, walking with someone shorter than him, headed toward his shed. “Do you think…that was the woman he had went to see? Maybe they slept together in the shed? Tommy never let me go in there, I don't know what was in there.” she said softly. “The camera was too far away to pick up the other person's features, but I'm assuming it was a woman with him.” she said quietly. 

The church doors opened, and in walked you with a short, black dress on, black pumps and bright red lipstick. On your right was Brooke and on your left was Maddie. You had a couple of women standing back by the doors, but that’s as far as they entered the church. As you walked down the same aisle you had on your wedding day, you watched as peoples soft voices turned into murmurs as you passed them. Their attention turned toward you three, as Chris watched you. Your relationship had been rocky since he’d confessed his affair with Sharon. He’d written a letter to you that it happened during the two weeks he spent away from you. 

You hated yourself more than anything, you’d trusted him, and he still…..after everything, deep down…just didn’t love you. Not how you loved him at least. You stood at the casket and prayed silently. Brooke and Maddie, doing the same behind you. Once you were finished, you walked over to the women you assumed to belong to Tommy and offered your hands, “I am so deeply sorry for your loss, If there is anything you need, we would be honored to help you.” you spoke quietly as she sniffled and looked over at Chris. 

“That’s what your husband said too, I really appreciate you guys finding out who did this. Tommy loved us…he never would have left his son.” she whispered as you glanced down at the boy. He stared up at you, he looked like a miniature version of Tommy with those bright blue eyes staring up at you. His dark wavy hair combed back neatly. You swallowed and looked back at her. “Let us know if you need anything,” you leaned down and hugged her before ruffling the boy's hair softly and walked away. 

Chris moved in front of Sebastian and Anthony only for you to brush past him toward the back of the church. “Y/N?” you turned and looked at him. “See you at home.” you turned back around and left, people would whisper about the encounter between you and your husband for the next several months. 

Days turned into weeks and you avoided Chris as much as possible. You just couldn’t bring yourself to face him, especially after he wept over Sharon's death. You slept in your office, you tried to keep yourself out of the house as much as possible. Henry, Brooke's older brother, had been nice enough to treat you to dinner one night, simply checking on your well-being since you weren’t on the best terms with Chris at the moment. 

You laughed, told stories, joked around, it had been one of the greatest night’s you’d had in a long long time. You tried to not think about him, but with every joke you’d think to yourself ‘Chris would have loved that,’ or when you’d hear a funny story, you knew Chris would have had an even better one. You were both walking back toward your car when Henry stopped and turned toward you. He went to speak but he sighed, and looked down. You tilted your head while watching him. “What’s up Henry?” you smiled a little. He looked at you before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. 

You pulled back and stared in bewilderment at him. “I have to go.” you turned and walked the rest of the way to your car the feeling of vomiting in your stomach. Once you got home, you opened the door, stepped out and puked all over the driveway. “Jesus.” you coughed wiping your mouth with your hand before you went inside. 

“About time. We need to talk.” Peggy said, walking up to you as you rolled your eyes. “Listen, I don't feel good, so we can do this another time.” you said heading up the stairs. “The anniversary party is set for one week from today. I’ve got a gown selected for you and you’ll be on your best behavior. No…surprises.” Peggy said with a tight smile at you. You stared at her before holding up your middle finger. “Do go royally fuck yourself.” you said in a fake accent before you walked upstairs. 

As you passed your bedroom door, you saw Chris walking out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist. He looked up, catching your eye. You both stared silently at each other for what felt like forever. “Hi,” he said as he walked over to the bedroom door. You opened your lips, ready to say hi, but instead, vomit came out, covering his chest down to his towel. You instantly covered your mouth as you felt more bile rise up in your throat. 

You shoved past him into the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet, puking your guts up. You felt a hand hold your hair back in a ponytail while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. “Shhh it’s alright, I got you,” Chris said quietly as you finished. You reached up flushing the toilet before you slowly stood up and brushed your teeth rinsing your mouth out. “I must have eaten something bad. I didn’t mean to puke on you.” you said quietly as he got back in the shower. 

Chris held the shower door open and looked back at you, “Why don’t you join me? We can clean up and I’ll help you get ready for bed. No funny business.” he said looking at you with a soft and sweet look. Maybe it was the exhaustion of sleeping on a hard couch, or maybe it was the food poisoning you were experiencing, but before you could realize what you were doing, you were stripping down, and climbing into a steaming hot shower with him. 

“FUCK!” Chris groaned, arching his back off the floor next to the bed. You can't recall how it happened, but one moment you were agreeing to showering with him, and the next thing you knew, it was 5am, and neither one of you had stopped pleasuring each other. You lifted your mouth off his hard cock gulping down a big breath of air. Chris took the chance to grab your arms and flip you over on your hands and knees, lining up behind you as he gripped your hips and slammed into you. 

You both couldn’t contain yourselves as you moved into different positions around the room. As the sun came up, you were straddling him in one of the chairs that sat across from your bed, riding him as he left marks on your chest. The bedroom door opened, Peggy came in, causing you to glare as you rode him. “Peggy! Jesus fuck get out!” Chris yelled, wrapping his arms around you. You held your head high, grinding your hips down into his. “Chris, we need to talk.” Peggy said, only looking at him. “Get out!” he yelled again. “We’re-” he let out a breath looking up at you as you stared her down, your jaw ticking some, while your nostrils flared. “We’re busy. Leave.” you said with a dark tone in your voice. Peggy looked away before she looked back at Chris who huffed and shielded you as best he could. 

“Christopher….” You glared daggers at her as she glanced at you while saying his name. She looked back at him. “What?” he snapped at her. “Your mother died.” she blurted out. You stopped moving as you looked down at Chris. His face had paled and he blinked. “What?” Peggy looked at you, her eyes holding everything you needed to see. “Bitch.” you mumbled to yourself as you climbed off his lap. “She apparently had a heart attack in the middle of the night last night, she was in Spain visiting your cousins.” You grabbed your robe, throwing it on before walking into the bathroom. 

Chris sat silently, no matter what he said next it didn’t matter. The one person who’d do anything for him was gone. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked up to see Peggy. “Get out.” he growled. “Christopher.” Peggy said softly. “Get out before I throw you out bitch.” your voice startled both of them. “He told you once, and I’ve told you twice. Now. I suggest you listen before I snap that pretty little neck.” you ordered as she nodded and walked out closing the door behind her. 

You looked at Chris as he walked over to the french doors on the balcony to the master bedroom. You stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m so sorry.” you whispered against his shoulder blade. “I need you. I can’t go through this without you by my side.” he whispered as tears filled his eyes. You laid your lips against his shoulder blade and whispered. “Anything you need.” 

Tagging:

@mommad @wolfieeebbbyyy @dontbescaredtosingalong @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @calimoi @coffeebooksandfandom @patzammit @posiemax @fdl305 @auriel187 @ladybug05 @stoneyggirl2 @fallenoutofrose @mrspeacem1nusone @teamfreewill-imagine @inlovewith3

(bringing back my tag list please dont make me regret it <3)

[scart-t]

The Inauguration Ceremony

Fontaine Airport buzzed with its usual crowd, hundreds of people hustling and bustling within its confines. Some rushed towards security, fearing they might miss their flights, while others savored moments in cafes before departure. A few strolled leisurely towards the exit, reuniting with families and friends.

In the midst of the Parisian-clad individuals, a 6ft tall gentleman moved gracefully. He wore a blue vest over a white dress shirt and blue slacks, complemented by a long dark blue trench coat with gold lining. Onlookers couldn't help but be captivated by his handsomeness as they watched him move through the airport. A distracted young lady, engrossed in her phone call and clutching a coffee cup, accidentally collided with the stranger, spilling hot coffee all over herself.

“WHAT THE HELL!” Startled, the young lady looked up, only to find herself charmed by the stranger's appearance.

The man briefly glanced at her before redirecting his attention elsewhere.

“U-uh, sorry. I didn't see you there. I hope I didn't hurt you. I was on the phone, and…” the young lady apologized bashfully.

“You gotta be kidding me,” the man retorted.

“WHAT?!” The lady looked at him incredulously.

Before she could say anything else, the man left.

“The heck was your problem? I was just—” the lady started, attempting to address him.

“Hey, relax. He wasn't talking to you,” another person intervened.

“Excuse me?” The lady turned around to face another 6ft tall individual, this one with gay and green streeked hair, donning a black suit and a green tie. Speechless at his appearance, the lady bowed as the gray-haired man left to follow after his boss.

“Be careful of what you were thinking out loud. That woman was about to-” Alhaitham said "They can't be serious!" Neuvillette exclaimed, fuming with anger as he looked at a commercial his company produced.

"Can you even tell what product they're promoting? They just slapped a nobody on it and called it an ad."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't recognize him at all," Alhaitham said, agreeing while watching the ad.

"Find out whoever handled this. I want a name today," Neuvillette demanded, tearing his eyes from the ad to look at his secretary, Alhaitham, before leaving.

"Clear," Alhaitham sighed, feeling the weight of returning to Fontaine only to dive straight into work.

In the Fonatasia Research Lab, a food developer named (Y/N) was diligently working on different recipes for various products in their projects. Currently focused on finding innovative ways to make fish and chips, she experimented with different marinades for the fish.

While engrossed in her work, her phone rang. She swiftly removed her gloves and mask to answer the call.

"Hello, Monsieur Lyney? Oh! Already? I'm on my way! Got it!" she said hurriedly, grabbing her company ID and leaving the lab to head to the conference hall. As she made her way through the crowd, the distinct aroma of fish trailed behind her causing people to cover their nose as she made her way to her cowokers.

"Monsieur Lyney! Madame Lynette! Monsieur Friement! I'm here."

"Why are you so late?" Lyney said.

"I was busy working on the cod marinade for the fish and chips," Y/n replied, fixing her appearance.

"Take it easy, you..." Lyney was about to scold Y/n when he saw Friement sniffing, making him and Lynette do the same.

"My Celestia, you smell fishy!" Lyney exclaimed.

"Is it really that bad? I can't really tell," Y/n said, trying to smell herself.

"Woah, how could you not? Come here," Lyney said as he procured Lynette's perfume from thin air and sprayed Y/n with it.

"It's okay. It shows how hard you have been working on your research," Lynette said with a small smile.

Y/n leaned to hug Lynette, but Lynette gently pushed Y/n softly so that she didn't catch the fishy smell.

"Please take your seats, everyone," the PA announced as they were called inside the conference for President Neuvilette's inauguration ceremony.

As Y/n was about to sit next to Lynette, Lyney, and Friement, Lynette motioned for her to sit in a seat apart from them.

Lyney sighed and said, "I guess they were right about President Neuvilette; he really is a workaholic, straight from an office overseas. Not a single day of a break."

"You know what I heard? I heard he was actually really hot," Friement deadpanned, remembering what his friend Aerie from Research Department 1 had mentioned.

"I'm not really sure. He wasn't even there when I first started at the main branch, but you know, he can't be that handsome if that is his mother," Y/n said, jokingly.

Furina sat in the front row with the other executives, excited for her son to make his speech at the inauguration. The executives beside her congratulated her, now that her son would be the new president of the company.

From the back, Friement and Lyney took a look at Furina.

"Oh, maybe it's not true," Friement said as he leaned back, hugging his stuffed penguin.

"I also heard he's good looking and looks like a celebrity," Lynette added.

"Oh, the apple can't fall too far from the tree. He'll look okay at best."

"President Neuvilette will now make his inauguration address," the MC said, making everyone silent and straighten up, excited to see the president.

Everyone clapped as they saw a gray and green streaked-haired person making his way on stage, taking his place at the podium.

"Oh my god, he's so gorgeous," the girls in front of Y/n whispered.

"Wait, isn't that..." Lynette said.

Instead of Neuvilette on the podium, it was Alhaitham on stage. Furina looked at Alhaitham, glaring at him, expecting Neuvilette to be on stage.

"Thank you and welcome. My name is Alhaitham; I'm the company's chief secretary, and I'm here on behalf of President Neuvilette."

Everyone started whispering, confused as they thought he was the president.

"Chief secretary?" Y/n said questioningly.

"And I'm now going to deliver his inauguration address. To everyone who worked for today's inauguration ceremony, despite my former insistence on not having one, thank you very much. Going forward, I hope we prioritize business matters as opposed to meaningless events such as this one. I look forward to meeting you all in the near future. Thank you very much."

"Is that it?" Lyney said to Friement while Y/n giggled at how the president was such a character.

"This is amazing," Y/n thought.

"That would be all. Yours truly, President Neuvilette."

"I can't believe these arrogant little pricks! Oh, what are they thinking?" Furina said angrily, standing up and leaving the conference hall.

Everyone bowed as she left with her executives, and Alhaitham sneaked away, bowing to everyone first before leaving the stage.

"That's weird, so where is the president then?" Lynette said.

"I don't know, but all I can say is he sure is a character," Y/n said, giggling while shaking her head.

a/n: hehe hope you all enjoy it! wanna be part of the taglist click here

Taglist: none yet

[liaromancewriter]

Return to Dagger Mountain

Premise: Cassie whisks Ethan off for a romantic weekend, much to his discomfort and surprise.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff. Words: 2,615

A/N: Inspired by this edit I made back in 2021. Submission for @choicesjanuarychallenge Day 31 "adventure". I'm participating in @choicesprompts and using @choicesflashfics week 17 prompt 1 (in bold)

“Grab your coat, leave a note, and run away with me.”

Ethan Ramsey absently glanced up from the computer screen, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The temporary annoyance at being disturbed faded from his blue eyes when he saw who it was.

“Who am I leaving a note for, and why are we running away?” he asked nonchalantly, turning back to the screen to finish replying to an email.

After almost three years together, he was well used to his girlfriend’s grandiose statements, often designed to get a rise out of him.

Cassie Valentine swiveled his chair around and leaned in until her face was close enough for him to see the tiny blue-black flecks in her eyes. Her hands gripped either side of his chair, and she teased his lips with her tongue until he parted them slightly.

“Leave a note for whoever needs to know you’ll be out of the office for a few days. And because we can.”

He shook his head to clear the fog, somewhat disappointed to not receive a kiss. It took him a minute to realize that she’d already moved away and was reaching inside the corner closet for his winter coat and scarf.

“You know what I love about being an attending?” she said without turning around. “How I can take off after morning rounds if I don’t have anything else going on. And not having to fill out time cards. That’s gotta be the best deal.”

Still confused, Ethan stood up, the coat she’d thrown at him clutched in his hand. She started to pack up his laptop, unplugging it from the docking station and unzipping his messenger bag to slip it inside.

“Cassie, will you please stop?” he said, exasperated. And then his eyebrows snapped together. “And no, you cannot just take off after morning rounds even if you’re an attending. The day’s work is just beginning, for Christ’s sake. I taught you better than that.”

When Cassie burst out laughing, he knew he’d been had. She hugged the laptop bag in her arms as she doubled over, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes.

“You’re so easily riled, Dr. Ramsey,” she said, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe through her laughter. “Check your watch, babe.”

Ethan looked down at his wristwatch and saw it was after five o’clock. A quick glance at the twilight outside had him wondering where the day had gone.

“Oh,” he said for lack of anything else to say.

“Oh, indeed. It’s Friday, and we’re off the clock for the next two days. Our bags are packed, and a car is waiting downstairs to whisk us away for a ski getaway. Don’t ask questions; just go on this adventure with me.” She arched one brow and stared at him intently, holding out her hands as fists. “Red pill or blue pill?”

And that’s how Ethan found himself sitting in the back seat of a town car. At the same time, Cassie bubbled excitedly about their plans to return to Dagger Mountain.

“Rodney reserved the same penthouse suite,” she said. “I want to try the Old Serpentine Trail. I was bummed I couldn’t go with you last time. Maybe we can visit the thinking rock, you know, for Picta.”

“I don’t know why you hired a car service,” Ethan grumbled. “We could’ve taken my car. It’s a bit of a drive, and we probably should’ve left early tomorrow rather than risk dark country roads at night. We don’t even have skis or helmets or….”

Cassie ignored most of his diatribe. “That’s why god invented ski rentals. And I never said we were driving to New Hampshire.

Ethan realized what she meant by that when the car turned towards Logan Airport rather than the interstate and drove through a security gate shortly after. He remembered coming here once before when they took a private jet to Ines’s wedding in Hawaii.

“I know you said no questions,” he said slowly as the car pulled up in front of a hanger. People in uniforms milled about. A luxurious helicopter waited not too far away. “But I will need answers before I leave this car.”

Cassie glanced at the driver and nodded. The man exited the car and stood with his back to the door.

“It’s not that complicated, Ethan. We always talk about going skiing but never do. This weekend has perfect weather conditions, so I decided to surprise you. And yes, hiring a car service and a private helicopter is a bit much. But what’s the point of having money if we can’t indulge ourselves once in a while?”

“I get that,” he countered. “But weekend getaways in private jets or helicopters and all this….” He waved his hands to indicate the car and the scene outside. “…is not who I am.”

“Well, it is me, or it used to be once upon a time. Sometimes, I miss being able to say, ‘fuck it, let’s go to Cabo’. There’s nothing wrong with that. Some people find it romantic to be whisked away by their lover.”

Ethan knew he could make several counterarguments, but he wasn’t sure what. It was rare for him to see the Valentine side of Cassie, and a part of him wondered if it was long overdue. Lately, he’d begun to question the differences between them. Perhaps this weekend was exactly what he needed to gain clarity.

“This weekend is my gift to us,” she said, quietly taking his hand. “When it’s your turn, we can rent a Pinto and go on a road trip to Plymouth Rock.”

“I doubt my legs would fit into a Pinto, and there’s not much to see in Plymouth,” he said, holding his hand up when she started to speak. “Forget it. Red pill, right?”

Later Ethan would admit, privately anyway, that there was something incredibly efficient in traveling by air. Within an hour of leaving Boston, they were touching down at a helipad near the resort, a car waiting to take them the rest of the way.

He could still remember driving up snowy and winding country roads as a teenager. Contrary to what Rodney said, Ethan didn’t come up here on vacation but to work. Skiing lessons were an employee perk, and he’d quickly graduated from green to blue.

He tried to keep his hand in, but his studies and then life got in the way. He racked his brain, trying to recall the last time he’d skied. It would’ve been…ah…when they solved Paula’s case two years ago.

“What level are you?” he asked Cassie as the resort entrance came into view.

“Black,” she said without hesitation. “I’m so going to kick your ass out there, babe!”

He smiled in amusement, not really surprised. He imagined someone like Cassie had been skiing since she was old enough to walk. Aspen, maybe Vail every winter, or St. Moritz with the rest of the jet setters.

In another life, their paths might never have crossed.

“Aspen?” he mused in a deliberately neutral tone as they walked into the warm lobby. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t letting this go. What did it matter now? They were equals and had been for years.

Cassie must have heard the disquiet in his voice because she threw him a considering look. She glanced sideways at the bellman carrying their bags behind them and remained silent. He thought she might not reply, but she waited until they were alone before turning towards him.

“Among other places,” she confirmed, letting her annoyance show. “My mom loves to ski, and my dad loves to sail. Max and I learned how to do both well, whether it was in the Swiss Alps or Bora Bora. Is there a point to this, Ethan? Because you’ve been silently sneering at everything since we left Boston.”

He started to argue otherwise, but Rodney entered from the small office behind the reception area.

“Welcome back,” he said, shaking Ethan’s hand with a smile. “I’m so glad to see you both. Hopefully, no medical emergencies this weekend.”

Rodney checked them in, making small talk with Cassie while Ethan seethed internally. He handed them the key cards, reminding them of breakfast and the amenities. And then, the bellman accompanied them upstairs with their bags. Ethan could’ve carried them, but Cassie didn’t give him a chance, waving at the man to precede them.

By the time the suite’s door closed behind them, Cassie was vibrating with anger. Ethan recognized he’d behaved poorly, dismissing her grand gesture as unworthy.

“You’re an ass!”

“But you love me.”

“Not right now, I don’t,” Cassie bit out. “I wanted to do something romantic, just the two of us. But all of you’ve done so far is ruin my mood.”

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” Ethan said, ignoring her stiff shoulders to wrap his arms around her from behind. “I don’t know what got into me. Let’s start over.”

He turned her around and framed her face between his hands. “I’m an idiot and don’t deserve a girlfriend like you.” He kissed one corner of her mouth and then the other.

“You missed a spot,” she said with a pout.

“My bad,” he whispered softly as he covered her mouth, keeping the kiss light and sweet, seeking forgiveness.

Their foreheads came to rest against each other, and his hands cuffed her wrists.

“I made reservations for a late supper,” she said, stepping away from him. “We should get ready.”

“Okay.”

Cassie grabbed her tote and headed towards the ensuite. She stopped in the doorway, her head cocked as she watched him over her shoulder.

“You know, Ethan, instead of focusing on how different we are, maybe you can try to remember how much we have in common.”

He heard the bathroom door lock click and let out a heavy sigh. Cassie was right. The last few years had proved they were more alike than dissimilar. But still, that inner voice inside him reared its ugly head at the most inopportune times. It had worsened ever since Cassie asked if she could go with him to visit his father every now and then.

Ethan had made himself into Dr. Ramsey, a sophisticated and cultured man who gave the illusion of a wealthy background. Very few people in Edenbrook knew he’d grown up in a blue-collar neighborhood of rundown houses with chain-link fences and weedy yards.

He wasn’t ashamed of his background but felt far removed from it. That’s not who he was anymore and never would be, except when he saw it through Cassie’s blue-blooded perspective.

Hearing the bathroom door open, he shook off the gloomy thoughts and forced a smile on his face. No matter what, he would enjoy this weekend that Cassie had arranged. Even if it killed him.

The following day, Ethan examined the brand-new skis strapped to their feet as the chair lift ascended the mountain. After much debate, he and Cassie decided to buy new gear rather than rent. He saw it as a sign that they’d use them more, maybe returning here or trying out other ski resorts in New England.

Despite things settling down last night, the silence between them was fraught with unspoken words. As they neared the top station, the chair slowed down. They took their skis off the rest, lifted the safety bar, and got into position to slide off the chair lift and onto the gentle incline.

“The Serpentine Trail is off that way,” Ethan said once they cleared the chair lift. “I think it’s more beginner, so it might be too tame for a black diamond skier like yourself.”

“More assumptions?” Her arched tone wiped the teasing grin off his face.

“Cassie…”

“I’m sorry,” she cut in. “That wasn’t very nice of me. Let’s just have a good time. That’s all I want. We can try the Serpentine, and if it’s too crowded or boring, we can switch trails. I checked the map before we left the resort, and there are several options.”

They joined the other skiers, smoothly sailing down the slope and taking a winding path around each other. She laughed joyously as he overtook her, the arrogant smirk he threw her way setting off her competitive spirit. She raced past him, spraying snow at him from the back of her skis.

The crowds made going faster difficult, and she pivoted towards a parallel trail with a blue circle marker before bypassing it to enter the black diamond slope.

Ethan checked his blind spot and raced after her. She was a demon on skis, zigzagging past trees and using short turns to cut through moguls, her excited cries ringing through the air as she gained speed. He watched her expertly leap off an incline and disappear from view.

It took him a few minutes to adjust to the more challenging trail and lack of practice. He stayed upright, barely, through the first mogul but almost wiped out on the second. Deciding to steer clear of them, he moved to the side where the snow was compressed, flat, and out of the way of more experienced skiers.

He was almost at the spot where he’d last seen Cassie jump when the skier in front of him lost their balance. They cried out loud before toppling off the steep incline, head first, rolling through the snow and coming to rest at the base of a tree.

Ethan took the jump cautiously, the doctor in him already starting the count from the moment of impact. He reached the injured skier just as Cassie skidded to a stop on the other side of the tree trunk.

She pushed down on the heel lever with her pole, released one boot, and then the other to step off the skis and crouch beside him.

“Call for help,” Ethan said.

He placed his ear against the open visor and checked for breathing while Cassie dialed the emergency number on the card she’d picked up at reception.

Ethan evaluated the patient for possible injuries and recited what he found. “Patient is breathing but unresponsive. Possible head and neck injury, broken tibia. I can feel the bone pushing against the surface.”

Cassie explained the situation quickly and succinctly, relaying their location and Ethan’s diagnosis before hanging up to help him. She didn’t want to remove the helmet but braced her hands on either side of the neck for support.

“Here.” She took off her scarf with one hand and handed it to Ethan. “The right arm is bleeding. We need to put pressure on it.”

“Observant as always, Dr. Valentine,” Ethan muttered.

“I did learn from the best,” she quipped.

Pushing the sleeve away, he cursed at the long and deep cut along the antecubital fossa. He wrapped the scarf tightly around the wound, the blood staining the expensive material.

“Remind me to buy you a new scarf when we return to the resort.”

“Buy me a drink instead,” she said. “I have plenty more scarves in my closet back home.”

The rescue team arrived shortly. Ethan let Cassie debrief them while he carefully helped load the patient onto a stretcher.

Once they were alone again, Cassie leaned against his side, their arms hooked around each other’s waists. She tilted her head back to gaze at him, laughter making her green eyes sparkle. The tip of her nose was red from the cold, and her lips lightly chapped.

“One of these days, babe, we’re going to come to this resort and not deal with a medical emergency.”

Ethan’s booming laugh and a quick kiss confirmed that he wholeheartedly agreed.

-------------------

All Fics & Edits: @a-crepusculo @annfg8 @bex-la-get @bluebelle08 @cariantha @choicesaddict5 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @mysticalgalaxysstuff @openheartforeverinmyheart @peonierose @takemyopenheart @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @vi-writes-stuff @zahrachoices

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @lady-calypso @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey

[iamsherlocked-1998]

Cold is a phase (just one more step).

A bad moment in a bounty is turning in something more.

Warning: Description of wounds and some violence, effects of the cold, otherwise just something soft, hugs, festivities of the time.

Words: 860

═══════ ≫ ♥ ≪ ═ ≫ ♥ ≪ ════════

Things didn't have to go that way, the reward was not supposed to be on that planet, it was a quiet, secluded and quite cold place at this time of year. The festive lights of the town reflected on your companion's silver armor, creating a beautiful sight. Your little group of three just wanted to have a few days off before the next job but then everything went wrong.

After recognizing the Mandalorian armor, the undesirable attacked you. When saw that was outnumbered, he ran through the snow. You secured the child's capsule and chased him. He didn't have many options and everything seemed to be close to ending but he took advantage of an oversight, using a knife to tear your leg. Mando did not take long to act, shooting accurately.

Din used a piece of torn cloth from his cloak to prevent you from losing more blood, you moved leaning on him until saw a small cabin where could take shelter. You sat down in the first chair you could, trying to even out your breathing. The Mandalorian was using fire from a stray candle on a knife blade and gathering the few supplies you had.

By then Grogu was outside, next to you, watching with concern. You smiled sadly.

-Honey, I appreciate you trying to help but it's not that big of a deal, you're already quite tired from the cold, we need you strong.

Djarin held the little boy with one hand, placing soothing touches on his back and returned him to the capsule. The man turned towards you, noticed how his voice trembled a little.

-Okay, you can hold my shoulder in the meantime, this is going to be painful.

You did as he asked as the burning surface came into contact with your wound to cauterize it, you clenched your teeth to stop yourself from screaming, sounding like a pitiful moan, luckily the sensation didn't last long.

-I'm sorry, I know, I know...(your Mandalorian whispered softly).

He started using a kind of disinfectant substance, which was even a relief.

-You said you knew the traditions here, can you tell me more?

At first thought you were having some kind of breakdown since it was strange for a person as practical as your partner to bring up a topic like that at this moment, but you understood that he was trying to distract you.

-Well (you bit your lip) my parents taught them to me, we used to sit around my father and he would tell us mythological legends, I would like to read them again but never found the book, it is very old...

You talked for a while longer until your wound was improvisedly healed and bandaged. You placed yourself on the ground since there wasn't much else available.

Mando let the little one out who immediately snuggled up to you, falling asleep instantly, meanwhile he had found a fireplace and some pieces of wood that he quickly lit to warm you up. There were also a few pairs of old clothes, which was useful since your pants are torn, they weren't as warm as you'd expect but would have to do. It seemed like whoever lived here just left, leaving everything behind.

Your partner noticed you holding your hand and slowly stroking it in annoyance, shifting under the oversized borrowed blanket were using.

-Something happens?

-No, it's just the cold, but it's okay.

-Let me see...

He took off your gloves to see the skin starting to crack slightly.

-They are too thin, your gloves, use mine.

-Din, I can't ask you that.

-Listen to me, I'll be fine.

Then he proceeded to take them off, revealing hands that were worked on but much smoother than you imagined. But what surprised you the most was a small circle drawn on the side, in the shape of a target, next to the thumb, that made you ask yourself many more questions about the man, you never thought he would have tattoos, despite the time you have been together he was always astonishing. You couldn't stop looking at it.

The man seemed to notice and moved, as if he hadn't noticed what he was doing. His hands always intrigued you, they were big and strong, precise. In the time you knew each other you became very close, you wanted to believe almost like family, but the only glimpse of his skin was those times when you helped him with an ugly wound. Silence settled.

-Can I ask when... Did you do it? (You never knew how to just be and shut up).

-I... (the bounty hunter was doubtful) was very young, so long ago that barely remember, it was the first time I used a blaster and the shape seemed appropriate to me. Now is silly.

Your smile widened, imagining it was tender to you.

-Looks Good.

The hunter simply nodded, but he got rid of his right shoulder pad, which you took advantage of to gently support yourself until sleep overcame in the comfortable light of fire.

[yellowkitkieran]

hi! can you please write something about comforting kieran when he’s injured? i was watching the game last night and it broke my heart seeing him like that, i just wanted to hug him! thank you in advance! have a great day/night <3

Pull Through

Masterlist

Word count: 2.3k

Hamstring.

You knew as soon as Kieran went down. There isn't a doubt in your mind that it was his hamstring, you've seen it too many times before with his teammates. Your greatest fear, aside from an ACL injury. An injury like that takes so long to heal. You don't want to imagine the mental and physical scars it will carve out in your boyfriend.

Kieran's cry of pain still echoes in your ears minutes later. The match must go on, and once the Scotsman is subbed off play quickly resumes. You find it hard to focus on the action, instead replaying that moment in your mind. Kieran went down almost directly in front of you. His shout was audible above the gasps of the crowd. You wish you hadn't insisted on sitting so close- the pain in his voice will haunt you for months.

You sit through the rest of the match, though you barely pay attention. Your phone is glued to your palm whilst you wait for any crumb of news, regardless of the source. No one says a peep- not many people care all that much about a loanee anyway. You stew in your seat, picturing all the ways this could go wrong for him.

Why does something like this always happen just as he's settling in? Kieran had just found his stride at Sociedad, finally clicking with the team and opening up chances during matches. Last week's assist is proof of the leaps and bounds he has made since his arrival- and now this. A year ending injury, one that will set him back months. Your heart yearns to see him, to comfort and fret over him. To tell him it will be alright as you run your fingers through his too-short hair, butchered by the first barber he'd tried in Spain. You want him to know you'd give your own hamstring if it meant he could play his next match.

Though having you hover over him isn't what Kieran needs right now. And even if it was, it would not matter. You're forced to wait until the match ends and the fans begin to filter out, stuck helplessly in your seat. Only then are you allowed to flash the pass hanging around your neck that allows you access to the tunnels. Even then you're escorted to the medical suite, not to be left unattended lest you spill some crucial secret about the team. Your heart skips as you blindly follow the fluorescent vest of the security staff.

"He's just up here," the slender, dark haired woman says in surprisingly smooth English. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." She smiles and gestures down the hall. Clinical, white hospital light seeps out from the gap between the door and jamb, spilling onto the polished concrete floor of the hall.

"...doesn't look good. The sort of pain you're still feeling usually means months, possibly surgery. We'll know more with a scan."

You hover outside the door you're left at, listening to the medical staff debrief Kieran. You hear a faint shuffling of paper, and a rough pat that sounds like whoever it is has tried consoling Kieran by clapping his shoulder. You know better than anyone that he doesn't need pity.

"Support will be critical during this time. Having someone nearby to help boost your morale will help the healing process."

"I have someone," Kieran murmurs. His complacency nearly breaks your heart. He knows as well as you how long the road recovery will be.

"Good, keep them as close as possible. You'll need to stay off your feet for at least a few days until we can fully evaluate your condition. I will see you Monday, yes?"

"Yes, Monday. I'll stay off of it until then… Gracias."

Knocking softly, you push gently on the swinging door. Kieran doesn't look up but the sole staff member does, offering a polite smile. "He will recover," the salt and pepper haired man says, his Spanish accent thick. "It will take time but he should be back."

"Thank you. Do you still need him, or can I sit with him?"

The man gestures to the seat he vacates before gathering his things and leaving the room. Kieran doesn't glance up, too busy staring at a speck on the wall opposite the padded physio table he's propped up on. His eyes are empty, devoid of the spark you seek. His kit shorts are hiked up to expose his injured leg, which sits propped on a firm pillow to prevent the swelling becoming unmanageable. Where his top has gone you don't know, but the sensors stuck to his chest indicate his heart is surprisingly steady despite the blow to his psyche.

"Hey, pretty boy."

Kieran doesn't look up. His fingers twitch so you know he's aware of your presence. For now, that is enough.

Words are meaningless at a time like this. Actions speak louder than any condolences you can offer your boyfriend. Empty promises mean nothing, nor do sweet, loving words. So you sit on the backless rolling stool and wheel around to his side, laying your head on his bare, still slightly sweat-sticky chest and listen to the thump of his heart.

A heavy sigh rattles through Kieran. It is rife with barely concealed emotion, a sob caught in his throat. You read him like a book because you've been down this road with him more than once. At Celtic you supported him when he broke his jaw, as you did at Arsenal with his shoulder, and as you will now at Real. You will not allow him to become trapped in his head; you will drag him out of the murky depths kicking and screaming if you have to. Because you know in a few months time, when he's back on his beloved pitch and has a ball at his feet, he'll thank you then, regardless of how strongly he resists along the way.

"What's the prognosis?" You murmur some time later. Facts only. No 'I'm sorry' or heartfelt 'you'll pull through' bullshit. Kieran needs objectivity. Having everything laid out for him helps him attack the problem head on.

"Need a scan to be sure, but probably surgery." Kieran's voice lacks any of its usual charm. It falls flat, the edges of his accent you love so much dulled by pain and disappointment. His words scratch at your eardrums, like they were flash-frozen in his throat. You trace swirls on his chest between the sensors. His skin is hot, a symptom of his heightened stress. You lay your hand flat, trying to level out his temperature.

"Well, nothing we haven't gotten through before. It might not be so bad. Normally they always exaggerate after the match, give you the cautious evaluation to be safe. You know how these things go."

"Yeah. I know."

"Whatever happens, I'm staying. You don't have to worry about that. Just put your energy into healing."

Kieran is quiet then. The clock on the wall ticks away the seconds. You realize somewhat belatedly that Kieran now stares at his offending leg. He's zeroed in on it, as if he can heal himself through willpower alone. It would be adorable… if it weren't depressing.

And that simply won't do. Kieran doesn't move or question you when you begin hunting for something to cover up his lower half. You check under the table, in each cabinet until eventually you stumble upon a clean white sheet wrapped in plastic. You throw away the wrapping, unfold it and lay it over him without a word before resuming your vigil at his side.

Once his concentration is broken, Kieran finally finds it in himself to look at you. His red rimmed eyes are puffy. His hair sticks up every which way from how he's been tugging on it. The folded over tape on his wrists sticks to your palm when you stop him as he reaches up to tug again.

"You'll be much less pretty if you're bald," you murmur, turning his hand over to kiss his fingertips. You then slide your hand into his, offering comfort and a silent reassurance to stand by his side through this roadblock. "I much prefer you with hair, even if it's too short for me to enjoy properly."

The huff of air that passes through his nose is close enough to a laugh that you chalk it up as a small win. You'll take what you can get today; you fear pushing too hard for normalcy will cause him to shut down and close you out.

Kieran doesn't speak. The quiet permeates your thoughts as your mind drifts over what appointments you'll need to shift around to be home with him more. You don't care what your job has to say about it; it isn't like you need it anyway. It's just something to fill the time when Kieran is away, and if he's home more you don't need it. If your employer isn't willing to be flexible, then neither are you. Kieran is a non negotiable in your life- he comes first. Always has and always will.

"I'll miss the international break. Won't be able to make that for sure." You hum, encouraging Kieran to continue rather than bottle up his thoughts. "We'll qualify for the Euros and I won't be there to celebrate. The lads will, too- with Robbo in charge there's no way we don't make it through."

You feel obligated to remind him of the facts, "You'll still be there though. Maybe not on the pitch but you can attend camp, even if you're sidelined. They've let you in the past, and as long as you follow the recovery plan Arsenal and Real set out for you, I don't see why either of them would have a problem with you going."

Kieran's arm settles around your shoulders. Another small step forward. He's accepting your help. Maybe without realizing it, but he's subconsciously admitting that he needs you.

"I don't want to miss out," Kieran admits a minute later. "Like I know I can't play, but… I don't want to miss out on the celebrations. I can still go out and get pished with the lads, I don't need to stay holed up in Spain on my own. I can still be there and support my team."

You know where this trauma stems from- last time something like this happened, Kieran was denied travel and wasn't able to support his national teammates in Scotland. It crushed him to watch from his sofa in London, even more so when they lost and he couldn't be there to comfort them. He called Robbo afterwards, but being a face on a screen doesn't have the same effect as a physical hug does when it comes to comforting a friend.

"You'll be there, Kieran. I know you'll focus on yourself for now. You have a few weeks to rest up and gain some fitness. If you do that, they'll clear you for travel and you can be there for your mates, yeah? You'll be the loudest one in the stands, making sure they can hear you. They'll pull through for you Key, they always do."

Finally, Kieran sighs. It doesn't seem like much, but his shoulders relax and touch the table. That alone is enough for you to know he's calmed down enough to allow reason to rule instead of blind panic. Tension no longer creases his brow. The knuckles of his free hand are no longer white. The thin, pressed line of his mouth finally settles into something neutral, something you recognize.

Your smile is soft and quick. You hide it before his eyes crack open, searching yours for the strength he needs. You open yourself up and gladly offer him what he seeks. A squeeze of his hand and a barely perceptible nod do the trick for now. He is a flower whose delicate petals have been crushed under careless feet. You are the sun, coaxing him to rise. To fight against the odds and pick himself up.

Weakness is crippling in football. In most cases, the media would pick a player apart for picking up injuries the way Kieran has, like they're collector items. They would drag them through the mud, leveling wild accusations about glass bones and paper muscles. Whining about overpaid bench warmers and unreliable performances. Asserting that their mentality was to blame- because who wouldn't mind getting injured when you're still guaranteed millions of pounds a week?

But not Kieran- because even now, with his mind no doubt foggy from pain killers and worried about the fate of Scotland, he proves his character is worth respecting.

Kieran asks for your phone and picks a photo from the team's private photography website. You watch over his shoulder while he deliberately scrolls past the ones of him with the ball and lands on one of him in obvious pain, clapping for the home fans as he is lifted off the pitch. Pride blisters in your chest as he types out his caption, 'Proud of the boys for pulling through and bringing home those three points we need. I'll be back soon, better than ever 💙🤍'

You kiss the top of Kieran's head, "that's the Kieran I know and love. You'll be back, no matter what it takes."