#who do i bother getting sober and getting clean and going through all of that bullshit.

[transboykirito]

you people are fucking insane

[daycourtofficial]

Love Potion No. 9 Part 2

Summary: Azriel’s been subjected to the effects of a love potion, causing him to be incredibly clingy to you. You have to take care of him until it wears off.

Author’s note: ask and you shall receive! The people wanted it, the people got it! I’m also open to doing a short part 3 where they find out that Cassian and Rhys gave Az the potion - but let me know!

(Part 1)

You open the door, stepping back in. Immediately you are surrounded by shadows circling every part of your body, twirling through your hair, around your legs, your waist, your wrists.

“Thank gods, you were gone for hours,” Azriel whines, striding over to you, picking you up and spinning you.

“Az, sweetie, I was gone for five minutes.” You reply, chuckling as he sets you back down.

“It was days. I was starting to worry I’d need to eat my foot.” His hand gently caresses your face, before he crouches down and picks you up over his shoulder. He dashes over to the bed, placing you on top of it and then laying directly on top of you.

“You’re squishing me,” you mumble into his neck.

“Yes,” he replies, not elaborating more.

You huff, moving your arms out to get more comfortable. Without saying anything, his hands grip your waist, and he flips you two so you’re on top of him. Your legs straddle his waist, and he holds you impossibly tight to his chest.

“My turn!” He exclaims, and you’ll have to note that love potions make you 1) incredibly clingy and 2) essentially drunk.

You lay on top of him, wondering if he was going to fall asleep like this. He has been busy the past few days, and you always worry when he’s gone whether or not he sleeps properly.

You hear his breathing get deeper and you think he’s fallen asleep until he murmurs, “feels s’good.”

You didn’t even realize you were lazily tracing your fingers up and down his arm. You still yourself, worried that this was too much, that when he sobered up he’d feel violated. Cassian’s words ring through your mind, “I’m sure Azriel can find it in his heart to forgive you if you took advantage.” Was that true? Could he?

You feel yourself getting a little too comfortable, when a realization hits you. “You stink,” you say, beginning to untangle yourself from him, “you need a bath.”

“Trying to get me naked, sweetheart?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows as he stands up and starts undoing his leathers.

“No! No, you just have been gone a few days. You reek of the forest.”

He stops undoing the straps his arm covers, “do you not like forest men?”

You shake your head no, “no, I like clean smelling men. I’ll start a bath for you, okay?”

He whines, “will you help me bathe?”

You sigh, the pitiful look on his face working on you. “No, I think you’re capable of bathing yourself.” Being a healer, you were used to nudity, it didn’t bother you, except for when it came to the male you were head over heels for, who was currently standing in front of you.

He starts undoing his leathers again, taking his shirt off and throwing it on the floor. You can’t stop yourself from staring - watching the tattoos that cover his chest as they practically dance across his skin as he’s moving. Tracing your eyes down his arms, watching his fingers move, undoing his pants and letting them fall to the floor. You genuinely can’t stop yourself from ogling this man standing completely naked in front of you.

You, Feyre, and Nesta had all gossiped about which one of them you thought would be the biggest, all three of you declaring it would definitely be Azriel. Staring at this marble statue of a male, the three of you were right. There’s no physical way the other two brothers could measure up to him.

“Like what you see?” Your head whips up to meet his eyes, looking at you with drunken amusement. He chuckles, enjoying the way you looked at him. Your cheeks are on fire, you’ve never ogled a patient before. But also, Azriel’s never been in such need of patient care.

He walks over to you, and you take a step back. “You’re drugged, and it would be a terrible idea for anything to transpire while you’re in such a state.” You declare, trying to maintain some sense of professionalism.

“So you don’t want to join me in the bath?” He asks, trying to step closer, as you side step him. “That would be a very bad idea,” you say, stepping away from him and toward the bathroom.

“Actually I think I got injured on my mission,” he says, a pained expression overtaking his face, “I don’t think I can bathe myself. Can you help me?”

His expression shows mock pain, but his eyes are aglow with amusement.

You laugh, “okay, fine, if you get in, I’ll help you.”

-

You didn’t take into consideration just how much he would enjoy your touch on him as you bathed him. Honestly it was actually very pleasant - you lit a few candles for him, and gathered a few washcloths and some soap. He was still covered in dirt from his mission, so you started by dipping the cloth into the water and cleaning off his arms.

You start humming, enjoying the peace and quiet of the bathroom. His room was nice and cozy, a surprising contrast to the image he wishes to portray to the world.

After cleaning his arms, you ask him to tilt his head back, “so I can wash your hair.”

He does as you ask, and you had actually stepped out to your room to gather your bathing supplies for him. His room was sparse of supplies, so you figured he could just smell like you for a day or two.

You cup your hands together, forming a basin with them, gather water, and pour it gently over the top of his head. After wetting his hair enough, you lather some shampoo in your hand, gently coursing your fingers through his hair.

You hear him practically purring at the situation of your fingers rubbing into his scalp. “Does that feel good?” You tease.

“Gods, yes. I’m not sure anyone’s ever done that for me before.”

Your heart breaks a little at the admission, not sure how anyone can be so cruel to him. Teasing aside, he was always incredibly kind to you and all the other members of the inner circle. You swear you haven’t had to open a door for yourself since coming to the night court and you’ve never been worried that they don’t like you. The male before you had always made you feel so included, even when you hardly knew anyone.

“Well, if you want, you can ask anytime and I’d be more than happy to help.” You say, trying to get the sentiment across.

You two continue in peaceful silence, before he asks, “can you sing for me? I once heard you singing, you were in the kitchen, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

Gods, you thought, he’s really trying to make me a puddle.

“Sometimes I hear you singing in my dreams.”

“What do I sing about?”

He thinks for a moment, “seeing me again. You only sing in my dreams when I’m away. You sing to me, asking me to come home.”

His admission makes you want to squeal, but you oblige his request and start singing an old song, one you had heard in your home court at a bar. You sing as you untangle his hair, a tale about falling in love as if some force was pulling the subject of the song to the singer.

“You have delicate hands,” he says, his head still tilted back. You had finished rinsing out his hair, but he was so calm like this, you just kept raking your fingers across his head.

“And a beautiful voice. A beautiful everything, really. I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. And kind. And smart. You’re so nice to me.”

“I could say the same things about you, Az. You’re also incredibly kind and beautiful.”

He just kept his head tilted back, enjoying the peace of this bath. You’re wondering what he’s thinking about, when he starts speaking again, “can you do this every time I come back from a mission? Might make me come home faster too.”

You giggle, “sure, I can do this after every mission.”

You didn’t mind agreeing - either you got to do this or Azriel will completely forget he asked. Gods, you think, will he remember any of this? On one hand, you know he’ll be incredibly embarrassed and flustered, on the other, you’re not sure how you can pretend none of this happened.

You help Azriel out of the bath, handing him a towel so he can dry off when he grabs your wrist. “Thank you,” he says, looking into your eyes.

You’re not sure if the effects of the potion are starting to wear off, but he seems less loopy, but still just as clingy. You smile in response to him, turn to leave, when he tightens his grip on your wrist.

“Can you dry off my wings? I hate going to bed with wet wings.” He says, and his hand has reached up and is caressing your jaw now.

“Won’t that uh, make you.. ya know?” You say, gesturing with your hands trying not to say the words.

“Make me…?” He asks, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your cheeks burn with heat, “aren’t wings like super sensitive?” You practically whisper. He laughs, “yes, but mostly just to touch from someone, rubbing a towel on it isn’t that seductive, I must say. Knowing you’re the one holding the towel, however..” he trails off, and he spends a moment just looking you up and down.

“Stop that,” you say, grabbing a towel.

“Stop what?” He asks, spreading out his wings for you to dry them. You start dabbing his wings with the towel, rubbing the towel up and down his left wing.

“Stop looking at me like I’m a meal,” you say, focusing on his wing.

His hand grasps your thigh. “But darling, how can I not? You’re taking care of me, touching me. Regardless, if I was a condemned man, I’d pick you for my last meal.”

You stop cleaning his wing at his words, “sweetheart,” he groans at the pet name, “nothing can happen while you’re still under the effects of this love potion, talk to me when you’re clear-headed.”

You resume cleaning his wings, honestly amazed at all the nooks and crannies. You’ve always wanted to see Ilyrian wings up close, but have never been confident enough to ask any of them. You know they’d probably let you look at them for medical knowledge, but they feel so… personal.

“But baby, I’m not under a love potion. I’m under your love spell.” He waggles his eyebrows, still with his eyes closed, enjoying both the cleaning of his wings and making you fidget like this.

“I did not cast a love spell or love potion on you!” You say indignantly.

“You existed and charmed me immediately.”

“I did not,“ you reply.

“After I met you, I spent days trying to learn everything I could about you. Your powers, where you’re from, your favorite cookies. Rhys caught on super quickly, unfortunately, and wouldn’t tell me more about you. ‘Ask her yourself’ he told me,” he says, doing a quite spot-on impression of the high lord.

“And did you ask me yourself?”

“I tried to get Cassian to do it, the bastard figured it out pretty quickly. You were just so pretty, how was I supposed to walk up to you and go ,”hello, tell me everything about yourself, I’ll listen. Are you free forever?” He looked so lovestruck, you couldn’t believe you could have this kind of effect on him.

You giggle, “well, I’m pretty easy to impress. I’m ashamed to admit it but that line would have worked on me. Honestly any line from you would have worked on me.”

He bolts upright, “you mean to tell me we could have been having gloriously hot sex this whole time?”

Your cheeks flame, “well I mean hopefully there’d be other stuff too, I’m not that easy.”

He tilts his head back in laughter, “you might not be that easy, but I am.”

You laugh, “okay Mr. Nice and Easy, I’ve finished drying off your wings, how are you feeling?”

He thinks for a moment, “honestly, I’m pretty tired. I don’t sleep well on missions - too wired to sleep.”

In addition to the clinginess, the love potion is making him so vulnerable. It’s nice to have him open up to you like this - how can you go back to how it was? You two were very friendly before, but this? This is a whole new level of vulnerability.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize that as he was leaned against the cupboard, he had started falling asleep. You convince him to lay in his bed. He agrees, but “only if you come with me.”

He insists on you cuddling with him. You tell him you’ll go grab some pajamas, but he whines and takes off his shirt, handing it to you. “Your room’s too far,” he says, “besides I think you look adorable in my clothes.”

-

Azriel woke softly, a warmth pressed against him. He genuinely can’t remember the last time he slept so well - usually only when he’s injured and you or Madja provide him a concoction to sleep for days to heal.

He looked down, seeing your head nuzzled into his neck, his mind exploding with questions - did we do it and I forgot? Was I drunk? Gods, he thought, I hope not. He lifted the blanket a smidge, and both of you were fully clothed, eliminating that possibility. He did note that you were wearing his shirt, the back slits undone so we could see little slithers of your back. His hand was resting there, touching the exposed parts of your back.

He starts trying to remember what led him here - the mission, coming home, his brothers, the debrief, waiting for you to come check on him. Oh, gods. It all came back to him. He grabbed your ass, shamelessly. He flirted with you, shamelessly. He flirted with you, while he was naked. You bathed him. He wouldn’t let you go farther than 6 feet away from him. You dried his wings. You sang for him.

That’s it, he thinks. I’ll have to move. There’s no way she’ll want anything to do with me after forcing myself on her for hours. Maybe I can work for Helion in Day.

His thoughts are interrupted by you nuzzling your face into his neck. He swears he feels you kiss his neck, but he’s not sure.

He feels you stir after a while, and you look up at him, a sleepy smile adorning your face. “Hi sweetheart, how are you feeling this morning?”

He groans, “you can stop the nicknames, I think the potion’s out of my system.” He sees your face falter for a split second before composing yourself.

“Ah,” you say, “how much do you remember?”

He sighs, tightening his grip around you. Convinced you’re about to disown him and want nothing to do with him, he’ll take all the physical contact he can get right now. “I remember all of it, and I’m… I can’t believe I did all those things.”

“I don’t think you should feel too embarrassed,” you say, rubbing his arm.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, “and why not? I’ve practically been forcing myself on you for twelve hours.”

You giggle, still rubbing his arm, “did you know that love potions only work if you already have feelings for someone? Love potions work by just taking what’s there and bringing it to the surface. It smells different for everyone, smelling like things you’re attracted to.”

He stills at your words. He could deal with the embarassment of being all over you, but the knowledge that you now posess that he has deep feelings for you? It’s too much, he thinks, putting his face in his hands.

“People who take love potions are often covered in the smell of it, and it comes off of their breath like alcohol.” He feels your hands wrap around his that are still covering his face. “I uh couldn’t smell it on you. I smelled your canteen out in the hallway,” you pause, “it smelled like books, and fresh ink, and you.” His eyes snap to your face, and you look directly into his eyes.

You clear your throat, so what you’re about to say will come out as clear as possible. “If I drank a love potion right now, I would be hanging all over you, telling you how beautiful you are and how much I think about you. I’d probably also tell you that it was incredibly difficult not to give into your advances yesterday, because I did not want you to regret anything. As much as I wanted something to happen, I didn’t want it like that. At least, not the first time.”

He keeps your eye contact, searching your face for any trace of amusement.

“There’s a first time?” He asks, a smug look overcoming his face.

You laugh, “there’s as many times as you’ll have me.”

“Well I think it’s only fair for it to be your turn, falling all over yourself, telling me how beautiful I am.”

“Yeah?” You ask, putting your hands on his face. “Yeah,” he replies. “Well in that case,” you start, leaning in closer, “you are devastatingly gorgeous,” you kiss his cheek, “incredibly kind,” you kiss his other cheek, “oh so smart,” you kiss his forehead, “and I am hopelessly obsessed with you.” You lean forward, catching his lips in your mouth. Your lips move in harmony, his hands gripping your waist. You press yourself into him, deepening the kiss.

After minutes, hours, or days, you pull your head back and tell him, “now, uh, if I’m supposed to be hopelessly in love with you, I think you’re supposed to take care of me and give me a sponge bath.”

[inthepassengerside]

Halloween

warnings: oral (f), fingering, sir like once, dirty talk, cuddling before and after

a/n: this is old </3

masterlist

It was getting late. You had decided to go to a party closer an opposite side of the city with your friends—who were best friends with a group of boys.

It was a Halloween party, you had just dressed up as a simple angel. You had nothing in your closet as it was a last minute decision to go, and that was the only thing you could put together from previous years.

It was your third year of college, and you weren’t one to turn down a party. Even though you were upset at your friends for feeling the need to attend an hour before it begun, you still went. It was Halloween! You wanted to have fun.

So, you put on your white eyeliner and cute outfit and decided to go have a ball. You might have looked a little childish since your friends dressed, well, to be undressed, but, you hoped they could get some and have an eventful night. You weren’t looking for anything other than a good time.

As to the particular boys who were hosting this party, they were all nice. Calum was the closest to you guys, always checking up in the group chats and reaching out to invite you to these type of things.

None of the boys were dressed up, each in comfortable house attire. You thought it was very lame, not the type of energy a Halloween party should have.

Sometimes you felt forgotten, but it wasn’t anything towards your friends. You just weren’t as close to all the people they were. You got along with them well, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke. You had spoken to Luke less than the others, as he was a little shy, but you knew he was a good guy.

As it was getting late, an incredibly heavy thunderstorm had begun. The people in the room lessened as bodies were leaving and you and your friends helped clean up. Nobody ever bothered to stick around for that part.

“Wow, it’s incredible outside,” Michael said as he walked to throw out some garbage he picked up.

“Oh shit! What are we going to do? We can’t drive home in this. The one time we all stayed sober, too,” Your friend let out a chuckle.

As all they all talked amongst themselves they decided it was the best to spend the night. Heat rose to your cheeks. Where were you going to sleep? You didn’t like sharing rooms or spending the night anywhere other than your bed. Thunderstorms terrified you already.

You sighed to yourself and sat down on the sofa as you finished your last spot of cleaning.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. It’s a queen sized bed. There are four of you though, anyone can take the floor or we can pull out some cushions from this couch,” Ashton shrugged.

You spoke up before anyone else took the offer, “If you guys are all cool with sharing a bed I’ll just take the couch down here,”

“Are you sure? There can be enough space if anyone wants to stay in our rooms too,” Calum said.

Luke was looking at his feet. He ruffled a hand through his hair and then pulled out his phone, sitting down across from you.

“Nah, thank you, but it’s fine. I honestly prefer it,” You sent him a shy smile, to which he mirrored back.

Your eyes landed on your friends, who were each sending you apologetic looks from across the room. You also smiled their way, waving your hand, telling them not to worry about it.

Ashton sighed, “Well, it’s been a long day guys, so I’m heading up. Thank you all for coming, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone agreed and said goodnight, piling up the stairs one after another, except Luke, who wandered a few steps away into his room and shut the door.

It actually felt nice, the air conditioner kept the room cool and a comforting silence.

The only thing that sucked was the clothes you had on. You were waiting for someone to offer, but you’re sure it just slipped their minds. You were wondering if you could pull off just sleeping in your costume, but the thought of your skirt riding up and one of the guys finding you on the couch exposed made you nervous. You wandered over to Luke’s room since he was the closest and knocked on his door.

It took him a minute before he opened the door, his hair matted against his forehead and his face a little red, breathing heavy which was concerning. You decided not to dwell on it and just ask before he fell asleep. It had been a solid fifteen minutes after everyone said goodnight.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t sleep in these clothes. Do you mind if I borrow some? I swear I’ll have them back in the morning.” You rambled, biting the inside of your cheek out of nervousness. You wouldn’t feel this bad if you had talked to him on the regular, but you didn’t.

It took him a little while before he actually responded, just staring at you, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Luke opened the door wider so you could walk in. You took the time to admire the small, but comfortable room he had as you waited for some clothes. A tiny sofa chair, guitars, and posters aligned in a corner along with other items that resembled his character.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Luke, holding folded items as he extended them out to you.

“Thank you so much,” You said as you showed a small smile, “Like I said I’ll have these back tomorrow.”

He waved, “Stop, I don’t care about that. Get some sleep. There’s a bathroom along the other side of this wall for you to change.”

You glanced out the door to where he pointed and started walking towards it.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” You said to the blonde boy, making your way into the bathroom.

You set the clothes on top of the sink and started undressing. He had given you four items. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt, crewneck, and sweatpants. You put on the boxers and t-shirt and left the others on the sink folded next to your costume.

The thought of wearing another boy’s clothing made you blush, but you pushed the thought away just as fast as it entered your mind.

It was no doubt Luke was a very attractive man. You end up feeling upset sometimes that you’re not close with him because you want to spend more time with him. He’s also part of the reason you came to this party.

Flicking off the lights, you shut the door and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Ashton had brought you down pillows and covers as well.

You spent the next ten minutes scrolling on your phone before attempting to go to sleep.

———————————————————————————

Flashes of white keep you unsteady for the next half hour.

The uncomfortable couch didn’t help, the whole situation made you break out in sweats. Readjusting your position for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you ended up on your back.

Thunder roared as you jolted. You sat up, you were never going to fall asleep.

Before you could shut your eyes in effort to ease your restlessness, a door squeaked open and light dimly lit the room. Your head turned, noticing Luke standing in the doorway.

“Are you ever going to fall asleep?” He asked, tone nothing but serious.

You felt so embarrassed. You figured it wouldn’t be that obvious you were tossing and turning, but the noises of the couch creaking every time you turned didn’t help, “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

He rubbed his tired eyes, “What’s keeping you awake?”

“The storm, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He walked towards you and reached to collect your pillows and sheets, “Come sleep in my room. There’s only one window and I have thick curtains.”

“No, no, I promise you it’s fine.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep out here. C’mon.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Don’t mention it.”

You walked into his room and he put your pillows and sheets on the recliner. Walking towards it, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Um, getting ready to sleep.”

“You’re taking the bed, don’t even think about arguing it’s too late for that.”

You shook your head. “Luke I already feel guilty about waking you up. Please let me take the chair.”

You heard fake snores. Wow, okay.

You chucked to yourself. “Thank you.” Getting into his unmade bed, you flicked off the lamp on the nightstand as you both said goodnight.

Yet the thunderstorm was only getting worse. You spent the next five minutes embracing the cold sheets before realizing you were too scared to sleep alone.

You felt so embarrassed. Back home, you were able to tell one of your girlfriends to sleep in the same bed- yet share a respectable distance.

Shivers went down your spine. You had to suck it up, just for one night.

Before you could let your thoughts wander any deeper, you felt the bed dip and a faint smell of cologne. “I can see you shiver every time there’s movement outside. Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Luke was spooning you— he draped his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You could cry, really, and the last few hours emphasized feelings for this boy that you didn’t know were already there. You felt your entire body get hot, yet all tension left it at the same time. You eased into his touch, pushing your head further into the pillows which resulted to his in your neck. You swore there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, very comfortable. Thanks.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He didn’t break his position. “We’re in a really intimate position right now, so I feel like there’s no other time to bring this up, but, I really want to get to know you better. I really like you,” the blonde chuckled.

“I do too, Luke. I would love to spend more time with you.”

You swore you were dreaming. You were all alone a few minutes ago, and now you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed— with him.

You felt his fingers move to your side, the digits playing and fidgeting with your exposed skin. He untucked his head from your neck, instead moving your hair over your shoulder and kissing along the space he created.

Heat immediately erupted all over your body. God, it’s been so long— too long— since you’ve been touched.

You melt into him, arching and breathing heavy. He sits up, leaving you both on your side, but to get easier access to your body.

Luke continues suckling on your neck, making noticeable marks no doubt. He nips at your ear, creating marks down your jaw. The blonde continues his suckling for a while, going back and licking at each of the marks before flipping you on your back.

You both can barely see each other, Luke flicks on the lamp next to his bed yet it’s still so dark you can only see his prominent features.

His face is flushed, lips parted and puffed, hair disheveled. So much like when you opened the door to ask for clothes an hour or two ago.

You’re sure you look similar— you feel heat course throughout your body and you’re incredibly needy for him and his touch.

He reaches forward after admiring you for a good while. “Can I take this off?” Tugging at your shirt.

“Yes.”

You practically cry out, you didn’t want to seem too touch deprived— but damn was this getting you.

He pulls up your shirt and admires your beauty. He looks like he’s starving and you’re the only meal in the room. “God help me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, but it’s cut off quickly as he reaches down to start toying with your breasts. “Mm, such pretty tits all for me. Right? Just f’me?” You gasped, you weren’t expecting dirty talk this soon, but it was working. You were soaking your panties, you’re so sure the patch can be seen through his boxers.

“Mm, yes baby,” you moan. You were always loud in bed with each experience you’ve had. Most of the guys didn’t like it, so you tried to keep quiet this time.

Luke did the unexpected, bringing his mouth down to suck along your breast, keeping attention on the other as well. You closed your eyes, lost in bliss as he slightly nibbled your nipple. You cried out, glaring down at him just to see him already glaring up at you.

He switched, doing the same exact thing to the opposite breasts. It was going to be a long night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it.

“How wet are you?” He murmurs as he glides down your body, peppering kisses until he meets the waistband of your—his—boxers.

You’re taken aback by the question, “what?”

“How wet did you get for me?” He repeated.

“Um, I want you,” you blushed.

He chuckled, “I know you do baby, but that wasn’t my question. I want you to tell me how wet you are. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it Luke.” You want to break eye contact, but it feels impossible, the way he’s looking at you is addicting.

“Describe it to me. How does it feel?” He continues.

You moan, “I can feel it soaking my panties, Luke. It’s gushing out of me and I’m sure you’ll be able to see it through your boxers. I need it, please, I need you so bad.”

His lips part a good amount. He looks even hungrier than before, and you can tell your words tested him. The blonde wasn’t expecting you to be so— descriptive.

“Fucking christ, well let’s see then?” He sits back on his knees as you arch up for him, wanting him to see that you want him to see.

You were right, you’re absolutely soaked through and the wet patch is even bigger than you both expected. Luke sighed heavily.

“Looks like you’re right peach. Fucking drenched. You’re incredible.” You gave him innocent eyes when you looked up at him.

Boldness hit you. You wanted to say something, but debated saying it because you didn’t know if he would be into it or not. Taking a chance, you reply,

“Are you going to clean up my mess, sir?”

What were once oceanic blue orbs turned to navy, all you could sense was lust. Luke wasted no time. Ripping off his boxers and your panties in one go.

He lay flat on his stomach before diving right into your core. You slammed the palm of your hand onto your mouth, moaning right into it.

Right away, he rips your hand off your mouth and puts it into his hair. You tug at his locks. The strokes if his tongue were going back and forth between your entrance and clit. You glanced down at him and it was the biggest mistake, his glare towards you was enough to make your head fall right back to where it was on the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

He sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth, and it’s impossible to not hear the slurping. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, in fact, you think this is the first time someones ever gone down on you. You bite your lip to surprise your moans, but it barely works.

Luke switches up, his mouth going down to push into and lap up at your core, cleaning up all the arousal that’s pooling out of you. He brings his fingers into the mix, thumbing at your clit and rubbing circles so roughly.

He continues his assault on your pussy in the most euphoric way. He sits up, his fingers still pumping inside of you.

“Baby, thinking about all the things Im going to do to you when you’re mine.. G’nna fuck this tight little pussy so good, so hard..”

You groan, “Please baby. Tell me how, tell me.”

“Mmm. Fuck you messy n’ tired. Take you from behind, slowly, and feel you up, kissin down your back. Or I’ll have you so good that you cum so much it hurts, but you still ask for more.”

He puts his mouth back on you and you cum right then and there. It’s such bliss you don’t understand how someone could ever make you feel like this. Flashes of white flash behind your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s lightning filling the room or just your aftershocks of the orgasm.

Luke is still going, lapping up your cum that leaks out of you. You’re hand that’s raked in his hair starts tugging, telling him to stop. He pulls back, coming up immediately to kiss you.

“That was incredible, thank you. I’ve never felt that before,” you compliment. He gives you a lazy smile.

You notice his erection against your leg as you sit up. “Let me take care of you?”

“Mmm, we both need sleep love. In the morning? Wake me up with it.” He smirks. Your face heats up again.

The boy pulls his shirt back over you, turning off the lamp and tucks you both into your covers.

Before you fall into a deep and comfortable sleep as Luke is rubbing your back, you think of what has just happened and smile to yourself. This event will play back in your head forever, and you can’t help but hope everything that’s happened with Luke will continue to evolve.

You hear and feel his quiet breathes, and you realize you’re not sure if you can ever sleep without him during thunderstorms again.

[moonstruckme]

Knowing you write for steddie x reader changes everything for me. I love them and they deserve the world. Plus you do every character so much justice I love how you write them. Maybe reader and Steve supporting Eddie at one of his shows? Or Eddie and Reader helping Steve network at an event? Or Steve and Eddie taking care of a drunk Reader after having a "girls night" with Robin and Nancy?

Love your writing and hope you have an amazing Valentines day! 💝 🍫🎀🌹💐

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Hope your valentine's was amazing too <33

cw: effects of alcohol + weed

poly!Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

When Steve gets back home, you’re sitting on the floor of the kitchen drinking water out of a bowl with a half empty bag of bread beside you. 

“Jesus,” he says. “This looks kinda pathetic, don’t you think?” 

Eddie, sitting on the counter while he monitors you, shrugs. “All our cups are dirty.” 

“She didn’t want to sit on the couch or something?” 

“No, she said—”

“The floor’s really important right now,” you say gravely. 

Eddie nods. “I kind of get it.” 

Steve huffs a laugh, squatting beside you. “How’s it going, honey?” 

“M’not feeling fabulous,” you mumble, your voice echoing around the inside of the bowl. “Are Nancy and Robs okay?” 

“Yeah, they’re good,” he says. “They’re home safe.” He peers into the bowl when you lower it for a second. You’ve almost drained it. He has to hand it to Eddie; purposefully or not, his bowl scheme has gotten you to drink a good amount of water. “Neither of them would tell me what you guys got up to, though.” 

You’ve just raised the bowl to drink again, and you giggle into your little cavern. 

Eddie, feeling left out, hops down from the counter and takes up a position on your other side. “Ooh, that sounds like trouble.” He nudges your shoulder with his, squinting at you deviously. “What’d you do, huh?”

You set the bowl down, finished. “Nothing,” you say smugly. 

Eddie leans around you to shoot Steve a look, and he rolls his eyes at the showy intrigue in it. 

“Let me guess,” his boyfriend drawls. “You went to that biker bar downtown?”

You shake your head but realize your mistake halfway through, frowning at yourself. “M’not gonna say anything.” 

“That’s no fun! Come on, did you all get secret matching tattoos?” 

You press your lips together. Ignore the eyebrow Steve raises at you. 

“Did you go skinny dipping in the river? Go to a strip club?” Eddie gasps, expression morphing into one of scandal like your face has revealed anything more than a growing amusement at his theories. “Oh my god, you worked a strip club! Baby, you should’ve told us, Stevie and I would’ve tipped you good if we’d been invited.” 

“Quit it.” You go to pinch Eddie’s side. He stops you with a hand on your wrist and a delighted grin. “M’not telling you yes or no to anything, so don’t bother.” 

“Alright,” Steve says at the mischievous look in his boyfriend’s brown eyes, “you ready for bed?” 

Instantly, your good mood slips away. “No,” you say, almost pleading. “M’too dizzy, I can’t go to bed like this.” 

Eddie’s coo sounds how Steve feels. He stands while his boyfriend kisses sympathetically at your cheek, reaching down for you.

“That’s alright,” he promises. “Let’s just brush teeth for now, okay? We’ll give you some time to sober up.” 

It takes some help from Eddie on the floor to get you up, but soon Steve has his arm around your waist, keeping you pressed close to his side as he all but carries you to the bathroom. He hears Eddie moving around in the kitchen, cleaning up your small mess, and takes the opportunity to lean in to whisper, “Okay, are you really not going to tell me how you got like this?” 

You groan, head lolling onto his shoulder. “You’re gonna think it’s so uncool.” 

Steve laughs quietly. “C’mon, babe. You’ve got the D&D master in there, and then a guy who probably peaked in high school. Are you really worried about what we think is cool?” 

“Yes,” you mutter, but sigh in defeat as he leans you against the bathroom counter, getting your toothbrush ready for you. “Fine. We didn’t even go out. We just stayed in Nancy’s basement.” 

He feels his eyebrows go up. “I thought you guys were going to go to the bars.” 

“We were, but Robin brought us brownies to eat before we left, and…and she didn’t tell me what was in them until I’d already had two.” 

“Oh,” Steve realizes, “you’re high, huh?” 

“I had a bit to drink before that, too,” you say miserably. You take the toothbrush from him, all but shoving it into your mouth. 

“You’re crossed?” Steve gives a little laugh, scrubbing his hand up and down your arm sympathetically. Your skin is pleasantly warm, and you lean into his touch like his hands are molding you that way. “Shit, that sucks.” 

“We didn’t even get to go out because of me,” you lament around a mouthful of toothpaste. You’re starting to sound a bit teary. “And I threw up in Nancy’s bathroom.” 

Steve tries to look like he’s taking this seriously, but it’s hard to keep the amusement from his tone. “You couldn’t have known, you know?” He crosses his arms, watching as you scrub the inside of your mouth like you’re trying to rid yourself of this entire night. “Robs should have told you earlier. Christ, no wonder you seemed so much more fucked up than either of them.” 

“What’s going on?” Eddie leans against the doorway. 

“She’s crossed,” Steve says. 

“Steve!” You spit your toothpaste into the sink and look up at him, betrayed. “You’re such a narc!” 

“Aw, baby.” Steve really doesn’t know why you ever wanted to keep this a secret from Eddie. He’ll tease you more for it, sure, but he’ll also baby you way more than Steve ever would. And predictably, you eat it up, responding to his tone with a cute pout. “This is your first time being high, isn’t it?” 

You nod pitifully. “I didn’t even mean to,” you warble, eyes looking dangerously wet. “It was an accident.” 

Eddie crosses the distance to you in two long strides, wrapping his arms around your middle so your back is pressed to his front. “Poor thing,” he coos. “You were tricked, huh?” 

“She was,” Steve says, somewhat crossly. “Robin’s gonna hear it when I see her tomorrow, don’t worry.” 

“No, Steve!” Your boyfriend sticking up for you only seems to worsen your upset. You turn your glassy eyes on him, reaching for his hand. “You can’t tell, please! S’a girls’ night secret, you’re not supposed to know.” 

Steve softens. He can play tough, but he’s never been any match for you when you make your eyes all big and sad like that. He’ll give you anything you want. 

“I dunno,” Eddie says, “I think we should go egg her house.” 

Steve grins, but you blanch. 

“No,” you protest urgently, clearly missing the humor in Eddie's voice. 

“Alright, alright.” Steve tugs your hand toward him, soothing his palm up the inside of your wrist. “We won’t tell, honey.” Eddie rolls his eyes, but they’re full of fondness as he stamps a kiss on your cheek to show his agreement. “Do you want to sit in bed until you feel okay enough to go to sleep?” 

The worry clears from your expression, replaced by something almost approaching shyness. “Yes, please,” you say, sinking into Eddie’s hold. “You guys can go to sleep though, if you want.” 

“Oh, no way,” Eddie says, keeping you securely in his hold as he starts to walk you towards the bedroom. “It’s your first time being high, baby! I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” 

You grin like he’s silly, but when your unsteady gaze lands on Steve it’s tentative. 

“We’re not just gonna leave you awake by yourself,” he agrees. “We’ll stay up however long you need us to.” 

“Exactly,” Eddie says. “Okay, tell me everything going through your head right now. Do you kind of feel like you’re watching a TV show through your own eyes?”

[cannedpickledpeaches]

The Drive Home

Floyd Leech x Reader

Notes: Haven’t finished the side stories for Insert Your Name so here’s some Floyd angst while you wait.

Somehow or the other, over the years, you’ve become Floyd’s designated driver.

You’re good friends, so of course you go to the same parties. You don’t drink, so of course he needs someone reliable and sober to take him home . . . if he isn’t going home with a new friend. The latter happened often enough in university that you only showed up to events when he was too hammered to leave with anyone else.

You never bothered to learn about his more personal life. It wouldn’t be too weird to ask—he’s happy to volunteer information unprompted, regardless—but you simply aren’t interested. You’re his childhood friend. It would feel almost gross to like him when his parents’ home welcomes you as warmly as your own. Jade and Floyd are just like your annoying brothers, that’s all.

You’re also really good at convincing yourself.

When you were young and fueled by emotion in high school, you constantly dreamed about Floyd if he was the perfect boyfriend. One who was attentive, fun, and loyal. One who would treat you as someone special, who would never get bored and cast you aside. One who would devote his entire being to you.

Maturing is realizing that’s just not Floyd. And you can respect that. Maturing is understanding that no matter how much your heart likes him, that fairytale prince you conjured in your daydreams with his face doesn’t exist. Maturing is realizing just because you like him doesn’t mean he’s good for you.

But you still like him. You tried, but you can’t change that.

Neon letters flicker and cast their light over the interior of your car as you wait in the driver’s seat. After graduating from university, he moved on from frat parties to clubs. Even while parked by the curb, you can hear the booming music thrumming in your steering wheel. The bass pulses like a second heartbeat.

A tall silhouette stumbles to the door on the passenger side. Neon pinks and purples from the sign behind him light up the flyaways in his messy hair. When he opens the door, the stench of alcohol crashes into you the same way he crashes into the seat. The cologne swirling around in the headache-inducing miasma doesn’t help in the slightest.

“You stink.” To alleviate your nostrils, you roll the windows down. The muted music transitions into a different song with the exact same beat. “I’m thinking about kicking you out and making you walk home.”

“Don’t do that, s’not nice.” His words sound as though his tongue has lost half its flexibility. “Ya’ve got your best friend in your car! Would never dream of doin’ somethin’ so mean, wouldya?”

“If you throw up over the seats, I’m kicking you out. Too bad my best friend isn’t worth cleaning up whatever’s in your stomach right now.”

“Won’t throw up.” His snicker ends in a groan. It takes him several tries to secure his seatbelt. “Fuck. Feel like the world’s spinnin’.”

You pull out a plastic bag from the glove compartment and shove it in his lap.

For a good stretch of the drive, he’s content with humming to himself. You don’t play music in case it makes his headache worse. He makes enough noise to fill the car anyway. His off-tune humming switches through several melodies, some you recognize, some you don’t.

The humming fades into silence. At a stop light, you glance at Floyd to make sure he’s okay. His eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones. You think he’s asleep until his eyes flash open and he gives you a grin.

“Eyes on the road.”

“Just making sure you didn’t kick the bucket.” You catch a glimpse of a red stain on the right side of his Adam’s apple. Your gut twists unpleasantly. “If you’re gonna sleep, turn your face to the right.”

“Why? Y’don’t wanna see my handsome face or what?”

You look forward as the light turns green. “No, you told me to keep my eyes on the road. I just don’t want you transferring those lipstick stains onto the seats.”

“Ain’t gotta be salty that you don’t get laid.” You don’t need to look at him to hear the grin in his voice.

“That’s because I have standards.”

“Like what?”

“Something higher than ‘has a hole.’”

He clicks his tongue playfully. “Jealousy ain’t cute on ya.”

You’re aware. Painfully so. Jealousy feels ugly, gnarled, like a twisting mess of poisoned vines reaching insidious tendrils through your veins. They eventually follow your veins back to your heart, squeezing its walls with every lipstick stain you see on his skin. The wish to possess, to confine him in your clutches when the thing he hates above all others is to be tied down—that isn’t cute in the slightest.

Maturing is keeping the worst thoughts inside. A mature adult like you won’t throw a tantrum or cry dramatically in front of him. No, a mature adult like you can do that in the privacy of your room.

“What’s cute on me, then?” You swallow hard. He won’t remember this conversation by tomorrow. Probably. Not when there are so many other, more interesting conversations from the club to remember.

Awkward silence fills the car. Your fingers leave sweat on the steering wheel. Focusing on the road might help distract you from the odd pause from his ever-present noise.

“Your hands.”

You very nearly step hard on the gas by accident. You weren’t expecting an answer at all, much less this one.

“Why? Is that a fetish, or . . . .”

He barks a laugh. “Nah, who knows?”

“Ew. I’ll kick you out.” Both of you know you won’t. If you’re being honest, you’re a little flattered that he thinks your hands are cute, even if it’s in a platonic way. “Why my hands?”

“Dunno. Just the part of ya I was lookin’ at when y’asked.”

Now that’s an odd answer. At a stop light, you look at him again. His sleepy eyes meet yours, and a lazy grin tugs at the corners of his lips.

“I told you to face your right.”

“Right, right.” He sticks his tongue out, but doesn’t oblige. “How’m I s’posed to give ya a proper answer when I’m not s’posed to look atcha?”

“You can’t think of cute things about me if you aren’t looking at me?” You scoff, turning onto a side street. Almost there. “Think of me in your head or something.”

“My head can’t do ya justice.”

Your heart almost skips a beat. Almost. Because you think of all the other people he’s said those words to. All of a sudden, you feel much less special.

Childhood friends. Maturing is understanding that is all you are, and that is all you will ever be, and that you will never, ever be in a relationship with Floyd Leech unless you want it to come crashing down in infinitesimal pieces.

“I like your eyes, too. Always lyin’.” He laughs. “The eyes of a liar, that’s what ya got. But I like them more this way.”

“Doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Well, it is.” His chuckles fade into the ambient rumbling of the car for a few moments before he starts rambling. “I like your laugh, too. And the way ya come to pick me up even when ya complain. And when ya scoff when I do somethin’ nice for ya, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell you’re happy anyway. And your nose when it scrunches up. It gets red when it’s cold.”

“Most people’s noses get red when it’s cold.” You choose to ignore everything else he said.

“Not mine.”

“Most humans.”

It’s the novelty that attracts him. You’d have thought that after living with humans all this time, the novelty of flushed skin would have worn off, but it’s hard to tell with Floyd.

“Wouldya like me more if I was human?”

His voice is nearly lost in the humming of the car. You keep your eyes straight ahead. Vaguely, you wish there was more traffic in this side street. Something to keep your mind off the odd vulnerability in his voice.

“I like you the most the way you are,” you say, and it’s the truth. No matter what he is, human or mer or otherwise, you like Floyd as himself. You’ve fallen in love with a natural disaster, and you only barely have enough sense not to throw yourself in the midst of it. The winds would shred you apart. You desperately struggle against the part of your mind that whispers: at least you would have had it once before being destroyed.

But you’re older and more mature now. You won’t indulge that emotional side of you.

You stop outside his home and put the car in park. “We’re here. Get out of my car.”

A mix between a groan and a whine drags itself out of his throat. The alcohol might be making him woozy, but he can walk to his door just fine. You won’t need to help him anymore than this.

He unfastens his seatbelt and leans over to you. The hug he gives you is so uncoordinated, it feels like he’s simply throwing his weight onto you, his arms flopping uselessly.

“Thanks,” he says a little too loudly for his mouth to be next to your ear. “See ya ‘round.”

“Don’t ask me to pick you up again.”

“Ya say that every time.” He laughs again. Laughter always hides just under his tongue when he drinks. “Ya still come when I call.”

“I won’t anymore.” You don’t mean it.

He waves off your remark and plants a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You stiffen, but you’re sure he’s too drunk to notice. With a boisterous farewell, he stumbles out of your car and disappears beyond his front door, leaving the ghost of his kiss on your skin.

You hate being a mature adult. If you weren’t, maybe you would’ve called after him. You might’ve rolled down the window all the way and pulled on his collar, yanking him close enough to kiss him on the lips. Consequences be damned, caution to the wind, whatever else they say about being young and reckless. But you’re a mature adult, and the best you can do for both of you is watch as he leaves.

[liplinerloser]

can I request a short sort of angsty fic with Leon Kennedy when he’s in his alcoholic self destruction era? Thank you

☆ Alcoholic Leon Kennedy x reader ☆

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ :

Angst, alcohol abuse, codependency

A lengthy sigh escaped you as you packed the remainder of your daily belongings from your desk and back into your bag, it had been a long day, you practically grimaced at the idea of going home and having an even longer night.

Coming home after work didn’t feel like the welcome respite you were so used to, being greeted at the door by your favourite rookie cop with that dopey smile plastered across his face. You never admitted it but you found it so cute.

It was nice when it was like that, you thought, making your way down the practically barren streets near your home, the only noise that greeted you back was the harsh stamping of your shoes on the pavement. Finally coming face to face with the dull Matte paint of your front door, and after fumbling around with your keys for an eternity, you welcomed yourself into your cold quiet home.

Leon was definitely Home, he finished way before you which he used to use to his advantage to do nice things for you. A smile tugs at your lips remembering when he had attempted to make dinner, key words attempted. Giggling out loud you recall what monstrosity he had concocted in your kitchen. It was burnt to hell, you weren’t even really sure what it was supposed to be.

You tried to be kinder on him despite the nipping snide comments on the edge of your tongue, he had it rough, his job was constantly whittling away at whatever semblance of himself he had left, you knew to be gentle with him.

“Leon? Have you eaten anything? It’s pretty late but I could make something real quick, or order out”, you called, the desperate voice echoing back around the silent house.

Slipping your shoes off and practically throwing your jacket onto the sofa, you wandered around searching for him. He had a tendency to fall asleep wherever he felt tired enough to do so, so maybe he’d just done that again.

The disappointment you felt when you found him was grating. There was your man, hunched over the dining room table, cans of cheap shitty bear and emptied bottles of god knows what surrounded him. You fought back tears as you approached him, a familiar ache present in your chest.

“Leon. Get up, please.”, despite the fact you tried to sound harsh your voice faltered, as you bit back tears. Gently you approached his side, nudging him in an attempt to wake him, not even an acknowledging sigh.

He had done this so many times, drank himself dumb then looked at you like you were the problem. But you wanted a life with him, you kept holding onto that person he was before. God you missed him, this wasn’t him.

“Leon, I’m being serious.”, there was a grit to your voice, you swallowed the pit lodged in your throat and approached him, prodding his stiff shoulder, eliciting only a groan in response, frustrating you further

You tutted, as if dealing with an insolent child and not your alcoholic fiancé who refused to sober up. muttering an onslaught of phrases under your breath, you cleaned his mess, binned the bottles and the cans, wiped the table down.

As you cleaned the remnants of his mess you couldn’t help a small part of your brain glance at him, quietly begging him to come back. To say everything was fine now, and for him to love you the way he used to.

“What’re you doing…some of those were half full.”, he grumbled back with his sleep rasped voice. You gritted your teeth in response, ‘I clean up after him and I tolerate him and all he can be bothered to ask is why I got rid of his precious alcohol.’, you’d never say that to him. You loved him too much. He deserved patience with what he had been through.

In his drunken stupor he attempted To stand, wobbling like a baby deer, he tried to steel himself but to no avail. He had fallen to the floor with a thud, sat motionless. You could hardly make out the expression on his face, anger? Or maybe sadness?

It was as if something had snapped for you.

You practically choked upon seeing fat tears pouring down his cheeks, not only was he wasting his life away on a drink but he had the gaul to cry over it. It was unbelievable, he’d rather cry over something he could buy again than even try to fix your relationship, or fix himself.

These thoughts had completely worked you up, a familiar lump forming in your throat as you struggled to bite back tears. You just mustn’t have been worth it to him. You forced your head back awkwardly, preventing tears from falling, inhaling breathes like you were on the verge of death. you couldn’t cry in front of him, and show him how he had hurt you? Never.

All you wanted to do was go to him, wrap your arms around his soft hair, press his head into the crook of your neck and rock him, soothe him. But it felt as thought he didn’t want you anymore, he would rather loathe in self pity and wallow than even talk to you about his problems.

It felt as though you had been stabbed with a blunt knife, the man you devoted your life to was crying over alcohol and not the sullen shape of his partner before him.

You dialed the first number on your phone, Claire, you had to get away from this fucking house, from this man. Or this sickly guilt in your stomach would eat you alive.

“Hi Claire, I’m so sorry I know it’s late.. please, please can you pick me up, I’ll explain later-“, pursing your lips as you spoke as to not let the barrage of tears drown your cheeks. You looked back at him, he stared only at the floor, and at his own hands.

He didn’t deserve an explanation, the build up was long enough, he should’ve realised he couldn’t expect you to stick around in a loveless relationship.

Swallowing your tears you turned on your heel, swiftly grabbing whatever belongings you needed for the night before slamming the front door with a graceless thud.

You had left him alone.

He was practically gasping for breath, suffocating from the weight of his sins and his inability to express them to you. His lips pursed as his chin trembled, he felt truly weak.

You had assumed his tears were shallow, crying over spilt beer, in reality as he peered up at you from the floor he had understood what he had become. He mourned for you, what he had put you through.

Sobs racked Leon’s chest harder than any bullet on any of his past missions ever could, each cry echoing off his ribs into the empty chasm of his hollow body.

He tried again to get up, he wanted to pursue you, hold you, apologise to you a million times over. If only he hadn’t drank so much. Leon’s legs couldn’t support him, he tried desperately to crawl to the front door, gasping for breath in a panic.

He was going to lose you. You were going to leave.

You didn’t even turn back to him.

Pausing, he had finally realised these were the consequences. His muscular forearms propped him up on the wooden floor but his vision was becoming hazy, staring at the heavy door, waiting for it to open, for him to see your welcoming figure come to embrace him. The house felt empty without you.

he loved you with everything he could offer but he was pathetic, incapable of dealing with emotional plight, immature and lashing out. he loved you so fucking much. But that wasn’t enough.

fumbling around desperately he reached into his pocket for his phone, he dialed you like his life depended on it. Maybe you’d turn around and come back. You could play house with him again.

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

“Call could not be connected, please try again at another time”

His fingers practically bled with the ferocity he slammed the digits into the phone, bile rose in his throat at the thought that plagued his mind now. He dug crescent shaped wounds into the flesh of his hands out of frustration.

You weren’t coming back.

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

The Police Station Scene

Arguably the most important season 1 Tarlos scene (it won the poll, after all!), the police station scene in 1x03 is undoubtedly iconic. The sheer chemistry between these two becomes truly apparent, and the journey they take throughout the scene...I have no words. Or perhaps I have many words. Yes, I think it's that second one. Many words. Under the cut, my analysis of this excellent scene.

We start out with TK in a pretty miserable situation. On top of everything else he's going through, he just got arrested, and at this point, he's not sure if the guys he fought are going to be pressing charges. For all he knows, he could be ending up in a jail cell using his one phone call to get Owen to come bail him out, something that Owen will probably not be too happy about. Not only that, but he's bleeding and his face clearly hurts judging by the ice pack he's holding to it. He's having a very bad night.

Then, things suddenly get even worse. Because the police officer coming to deal with him is none other than the guy he hooked up with and then later stormed out on. The guy TK had started having such strong and unexpected feelings for that he had given in to the urge to flee. The guy who TK assumes probably already thinks terrible things about him because of the way things went down the last time they were together. So now not only is this an undesirable legal situation, but it's also an awkward and embarrassing social situation. And now this guy knows that "TK" stands for Tyler Kennedy. Ugh.

From Carlos' perspective, he met this guy who was smokin' hot who he felt an instant connection with...this guy who made him feel for the first time like maybe he wasn't actually broken and then gave him the best orgasm of his life. Said guy then stormed out on him for what appeared to Carlos to be no good reason. He couldn't even be bothered to sit and have a meal and a little conversation. And now? This guy is out getting in bar fights completely sober, putting himself in a dangerous situation where he could very well get himself killed. This guy who Carlos already cares about, and who has seemingly completely rejected him at the first sign of Carlos wanting to get to know him. Carlos is hurt but he's also angry. Most of all, Carlos is angry about the fact that TK is being so completely reckless with his own safety.

The guys from the bar fight don't want to press charges, so Carlos tells TK that he's free to go. But he can't stop from giving TK a little advice. He's not trying to be his boyfriend (lie) or even his friend if he's not into it (oh, Carlos) but he tells TK that he "should talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal." Carlos says this without knowing that TK was suicidal and acted on it not long ago.

TK appears to be affected by this but says nothing. It appears that maybe the fight has gone out of him...until Carlos lets him know that he has something on his face, giving him a box of tissues to take care of it. TK gets visibly frustrated when Carlos tells him he's trying to clean off the wrong side. But then Carlos does something that TK doesn't expect.

He says, "Stop, just...let me." And with a shaky hand, he uses a tissue to dab at the spot on TK's face.

This clearly isn't nothing to Carlos. The emotion in his eyes is undeniable. He cares. That simple act of caring is enough to break TK's walls down the tiniest bit. To allow him to show some vulnerability. TK wants to explain.

He apologizes for what happened between them and tells him that he just went through a really bad breakup, "like nuclear bad," and then he relapsed. Not, as Carlos assumes, with him, but with substances. TK is giving Carlos a piece of himself, trusting him in a way he has not trusted anyone else he's met in Texas, as much as he likes them and enjoys working with them.

Carlos recognizes the significance of this moment of vulnerability. But it's more than that. It gives him context for what happened. TK wasn't just being a jerk and storming out because he didn't care to get to know Carlos. He has serious things going on. And...the champagne! TK has issues with substances and Carlos had offered him champagne without even asking first!

Carlos, always quick to blame himself, apologizes, and in that moment, his walls come down a little too. He had been trying to play it stoic and tough and like he didn't care so, so much. (Of course he already gave himself away when he started gently wiping TK's face)

But TK doesn't stop there. He gives Carlos more of himself, explaining that, ever since he's gotten to Austin, it's just grey. And he feels numb all the time. To explain why he started the bar fight, TK says, "I guess I just--I wanted to feel something."

Carlos looks at him. The anger is gone. He has understanding in his eyes...and that look of caring is still there, too. He watches TK gather his things and stand up. Carlos could have said anything in this moment. He chooses to tease TK a little. TK said he started a fight because he just wanted to feel something, so Carlos tells him, "Judging by that lip, I'd say mission accomplished."

TK looks at him with annoyance. He kind of can't believe that THIS is Carlos' reaction to his vulnerability!

"You really busting my balls right now?"

But Carlos stands his ground as the corner of his mouth goes up slightly.

"Yeah, I suppose I am."

Carlos made the right choice here because TK smiles too.

They like each other so much.

I fully believe that everything that happens after wouldn't have happened without this scene. It's pivotal in their relationship. The journey they go through is incredible! From this:

To this:

Iconic and unmatched.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

Here we have it everyone! I hope you enjoy. This part includes Eddie's addict brain trying to trip him up, so if that might be a trigger for you, keep yourself safe.

Eddie was six months clean by the time Wayne flew back to Indiana. He would have flown back sooner, around the four month mark but temptation had reared its ugly head and Eddie broke the lock on his bathroom door, intentionally trapping himself inside and away when he’d found one stray pill under the rug in his studio space. 

He was alone.

No one was home. 

No one would be home for hours. 

Wayne was halfway across the city, Steve was at his own home, Chrissy was at a modelling gig, the boys were with their families.

It was a terrible, opportunistic coincidence.

The pill was tiny and white, covered in floor dirt and bits of hair, but it would go down easy enough. He’d be able to dry swallow it in less than a second. It was small enough. He could just take it and he’d probably pass for sober by the time they came back.

He had it in his hand. 

No one would know.

No one would ever know.

His hand was completely frozen, almost on another plane of existence. He couldn’t move. A part of him was banging against the cage doors telling him to just take it. He’d taken worse things before, this would be nothing. He was strong enough now to not spiral again. This was just one, not nearly the worst thing he’d ever done.

He’d promised to be good and he had been good. So why couldn’t he have this one thing?

Another part of him was firmly trying to keep the cage locked.

Think of Wayne.

Think of the boys.

Think of Chrissy.

Think of Steve.

Why should they get to judge him for making decisions about his own body, the beast cried out. He was his own person, this was his own life, who the fuck were they to try and make him do these things, take it!

They didn’t make him do anything. He made that decision on his own. They were supporting him through his own decision. Not forcing him to do anything. They were supporting him. He said he’d change. He promised.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Eds.

The beast repeated Steve’s words back to him, twisting and poisoning them. Steve didn’t think he could do this anyway so why was he bothering?

No.

No!

No!

Eddie bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood and the pain shocked him into action.

He threw the pill across the room. 

He didn’t know where it landed, he didn’t want to know. 

He’d run up the stairs as fast as he could, putting as much physical distance in between himself and that fucking pill as it was possible to do.

And he’d called Wayne, who’d called Steve.

It was maybe an hour later when the bathroom door was finally broken down and Wayne crawled into the empty tub with him and just held him while he wept quietly into his chest.

Steve appeared in the doorway some time later, letting him know it was gone and that Eddie would be spending a few nights with him and Robin while professionals came in to clear the house top to bottom, just in case.

Because there was a service for that apparently.

This was LA after all. 

Of course there was a service dedicated to quietly, covertly and methodically going through luxury houses to remove every last trace of temptation.

Of course there was.

It was another thing entirely to fully realise just where he’d be staying. 

Staying with Steve wasn’t an issue, they practically lived together whenever they went on tour anyway. They knew all of each other's habits, their quirks, their weird rituals. And he’d been to Steve’s house plenty of times so it wasn’t that either.

It was having to live in the space of one Robin Buckley. 

Steve’s Chrissy. 

He hadn’t met her very often, they just never tended to cross paths but whenever they did, Eddie got the distinct impression that she really, really didn’t like him. 

Though if he was in Robin’s position, watching everything he’d ever put Steve through… He probably wouldn’t like himself much either.

Steve had been running interference on them for two whole days, trying to stop Robin’s glares and snappy comments and trying to stop Eddie from retaliating too dramatically. Because if it’s one thing Eddie was terrible at, one major, major character flaw he had, it was holding his tongue around someone who did not like him.

But Steve had to leave them alone eventually. 

He was half way out the front door, begging the two of them not to murder each other while he was gone.

Robin crossed her arms and shot daggers in Eddie’s direction. “Non prometto niente.”

“Ti imploro.” Steve checked his watch again before raising his eyes back to Robin.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Now you two are just being rude.”

“Cazzo.” She spat at him.

“Robin!” Steve rubbed at his temples before pointing at her. “Play. Nice.” Without another word he slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing around them as they stood on opposite sides of the open plan house, like it was high noon in one of Wayne’s old westerns.

“Okay. Let's get it all out, Buckley now that the parent is gone." Eddie spread his arms out in front of him. "What precisely is your fucking issue with me?”

“My fucking issue is that I don’t like you,” Robin snapped, “that’s my fucking issue.”

"I'm gonna need you to be more specific than that,” Eddie snapped right back, “plenty of people don't like me."

"Shocking." She widened her eyes in mock surprise.

He gave her the middle finger. "Is it just the Steve thing or are there other reasons?"

She scoffed. "There's no 'just' with what you did to him."

"You can't be stupid enough to think that I meant it like that."

"Jesus you're a real charmer aren't you?"

“I get it, I was a shitty person, to Steve especially, but-”

“No!” She shouted, cutting her hand through the air. “You don’t fucking get it. You really don’t fucking get it, Munson, because you weren’t there. You have no idea what all kinds of hell you put that man through for years, but I do. I was there for it all.”

“Of course I have no idea!” He threw his hands up. “How could I possibly have known?!”

“How could you possibly not have known?! Everyone knew how he felt and all you ever did was rub it in his face-”

“I didn’t rub anything! I wouldn’t have if I’d known but I didn’t! How the hell was I supposed to know?!”

“Are you blind?!” They had taken a few steps closer but the couch was still between them. Eddie guessed it was the only thing stopping her from tearing into him with her teeth. “You need something like that spelled out to you?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that not a reasonable request? To be told what someone’s feeling with grown-up words and not have to navigate a minefield of guessing what’s going on in their head?” His legs bumping against the couch was the only indicator to him that he’d moved closer. “How was I supposed to know I needed to look deeper? Am I supposed to go around examining everyone’s motivations for a deeper meaning now? Try to see into their heads rather than trust the things they tell me? That makes no sense! I’m not fucking psychic, why am I expected to be? You know as well as I do that he hid this from me. He never told me!”

“Don’t you put this on him. Don’t you dare-!” She was leaning over the back of the couch now to jab him in the chest.

“I’m not!” He had his hands gripping in his hair by the scalp and he could feel the lump in his throat but he refused to cry in front of her. “But tell me I’m wrong, Buckley. Go on! Tell me I’m not making sense right now!”

Robin huffed. “You’re wrong and you’re not making sense right now.” There wasn’t much conviction behind it. She pulled her finger back from his chest and crossed her arms with a scowl. “Maybe if you weren’t so fucked up on everything all the time-”

“Oh, spare me. Don’t start on the puritan talk just because you know I’m right-”

“I am not-!”

“Okay, fine!” 

He ripped his hands out of his hair and felt like everything inside him was crumbling before he could stop it. He’d done everything he could, he’d kicked the drugs, he kicked the drink, he hadn’t had any sex since the ‘Sucker’ video, he was letting Steve decide how fast they moved, even when they moved and where to… what else was he supposed to do? He was at the end of his fucking rope. 

“Let’s examine that then, shall we? Do you think that if I knew that I had someone in my corner in that way, that I had someone I could come home to or- or be there with me in my lowest moments, that could help take the pressure off, that I felt safe with… do you think I wouldn’t have delighted in having a steady fucking thing for the hardest years of my life? People don’t do the amount of shit that I’ve done because they’re fucking happy, Robin!”

He turned his back on her to collapse down on the couch with his head in his hands, trying to force his tears to retreat. His whole body felt weak, like he’d been wrung out and he really hoped she didn’t take the opportunity to crack him over the back of the head with something.

The only thing that could be heard in the ringing silence of the house was his own heavy breathing as he tried to keep his emotions under control.

A weight settled down next to him and he thanked his lucky stars he was able to stop from flinching. He didn’t want to look up, the tears clinging to his waterline that he hadn’t managed to fight back would be undeniable, but as the quiet continued to extend around them he couldn’t ignore it.

Robin wasn’t looking at him, thank god. She was curled up as far away from him as she could get with her back to the couch arm, her knees pulled up against her and she was scowling in the direction of the tv.

It must have been nearly a full minute later when she spoke. In that time Eddie had to pull the bottom of his t-shirt up to wipe at his eyes and sniffle everything back and he was fully prepared to execute a frosty retreat to the guest room he’d been using.

“Fine.” Robin bit out. When Eddie looked over, she cut her eyes in his direction but quickly averted them again.

“Fine, what?” He cringed at the thickness in his own voice. He didn’t even have the energy to bite back, he just sounded petulant.

“Fine, you’re a miserable fuck.”

He scoffed. “Great. Thanks for your input.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You didn’t want to finish, you left a dramatic pause in there on purpose.”

Her frown only got deeper. “Fine, you’re a miserable fuck but you’re not wrong.” She raised her hand to her mouth and started to pick at some dry skin on her lip. “It’s not on you to read minds.”

Eddie nodded. 

The tv wasn’t even on but she was still staring at it like it was. After another few moments of silence he turned, mirroring her position. “I am trying, Robin. Ever since it properly hit me I’ve been trying.”

“I know.” She sighed heavily, exasperated and slumped lower into the couch. “So he’s been telling me. And to be honest, I can see it.” She glanced back at him again. “Last time I saw you before this you looked like some strung out, coked up skeleton. Now you look,” she waved her hand around in his direction, “like you’ve got actual blood in your veins and not just Xanax and vodka. I just wish Steve didn’t need to get stepped on for you to get there.”

“I wasn’t stepping on him on purpose. If I’d have known… all of this would have happened a lot sooner.”

“Yeah.” She heaved herself up from the couch and grabbed the remote. “Put on a movie. I’d like to keep this little stalemate of ours going at least until Steve gets back. Might help him relax a little bit. Maybe not get a coronary. But pick well,” she threw herself back down and stared him dead in the eye, “don’t make me hate you again.”

Eddie didn’t end up picking a movie, he ended up picking a tv show but either way it ended up being a winner because Sense8 was always a winner. At least that was until it actually started because…

“This show is so fucking horny, man.”

Eddie just shrugged. “It’s a good show.”

“And what are you gonna do if Steve walks in while you’re watching two men fucking on tv?”

Eddie's heart stopped and his face flooded. It wasn’t that he thought Steve would judge him or it would set their progress back or whatever. It was that Steve would be standing there while very, very, super-duper, gay, gay, gay shit was happening in front of his eyes.

Robin snickered next to him just as the key sounded in the lock and a shout of “No one better be dead!” preceded Steve’s entrance.

The phone nearly flew out of Eddie’s hand as he made a frantic scramble to skipskipskip.

Steve stopped dead at the sight of the two of them sitting on the couch, not touching but also not hissing at each other like feral cats. Eddie with what was probably a red face and his phone clutched tight in his hand while Robin tried her best to hide her smile.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked, wary eyes bouncing between them.

“Nothing!” They both answered at the same time with vastly different inflections. Robin sounded light and jovial while Eddie squeaked, trying to conceal his panic.

“Right…” Steve gave them both a final look before he turned towards the kitchen. “Whatever happened here, I don’t want to know. I’m just glad the two of you haven’t ripped each other's hair out.”

Once he had completely disappeared around the corner Eddie turned his glaring eyes to Robin who had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

“You were no help.”

“Yeah? Get used to it.”

That fucking song wouldn’t leave his head and he didn’t know why.

Well that was a fucking lie.

Eddie knew exactly why this fucking song wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Freddie fucking Mercury was haunting him from beyond the grave. 

He could almost hear him, see him out of the corner of his eye. Sitting cross legged, an arm across the back of the couch as Eddie strummed on his guitar. That grin on his face. Drawling out “You’ll get it soon, darling.” 

It wasn’t even like it was a hard song to cover. 

On guitar anyway. 

Vocally was a whole different story. If anyone even thought of singing Freddie Mercury's pieces, figures would materialise out of the woodwork advising it was a bad idea. People just didn’t cover Queen. It was too difficult to do.

Freddie had a vocal range almost unmatched. He could switch keys effortlessly and often. He was iconic. Still is iconic. And almost everyone who had tried wasn't able to match up to the legend.

God, why was he doing this to himself?

A weight dipped the couch cushion next to him and Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin, almost firing his guitar across the room, convinced for half a second that Freddie Fucking Mercury had actually manifested next to him.

But the arm that was now across the back of the couch wasn't Freddie's.

"Jesus, Steve." Eddie clutched at his chest. "Warn a guy."

"You seemed very far away." Steve leaned his head against his hand with a small smile on his face. He was so pretty.

"Not that far.” Eddie shrugged. “Just a dimension or two."

“Seems pretty far.”

“Freddie’s just haunting me is all.” He said as he got up to place his guitar back in her stand along the wall with her sisters, throwing himself back down on the couch with an oof.

“Oh, tell him hi from me then.” Steve reached down, grasping Eddie under the knees and pulling his legs into his lap, causing Eddie to slip down the arm of the couch as his body was pulled forward, leaving only his head propped up at what must have been an incredibly unflattering angle.

“You could’ve just asked.” Eddie wrenched himself up to a sitting position, planting his arms behind him and refusing to think about the fact that if he wiggled his way forward just a little more he’d be pressed right up against Steve, fully in his lap. 

As it was, the backs of Eddie’s thighs were pressed against Steve’s and that was enough to kick his heart up a few notches.

Steve looked down at his legs, plucking at an old cigarette burn in the knee of Eddie’s sweatpants. They were good pants despite the hole. Soft and comfy and he did really mean to stitch it up but he kept getting distracted and then suddenly it was five years later and that same burn kept looking at him.

“You’re doing really well, you know.” Steve said in a quiet voice, staring at Eddie’s knees like they contained the answers to the universe.

Eddie tipped his head back until it hung between his shoulders and he groaned at the ceiling. “The guitar part is easy. It’s the vocals that are-”

“No,” Steve squeezed his knee, “no I don’t mean that, I mean your… your self improvement. Your getting healthy. Your-”

“Oh my god.” Eddie snapped his head back up, staring at Steve with wide hopeful eyes while his breathing got shallower. Steve had a light blush across his cheeks and was continuing to keep eye contact with the knees in front of him. “Is it happening, like is it really happening? Are you giving me a chance, are you-”

“Eddie.” Steve admonished, trying to pull his mouth into a scowl but his face was getting redder and the corner of his lips were lifting up of their own volition. “How are you such a pain in the ass? I had a whole speech planned about all the hard work you’ve put in and how dedicated you’ve been and how rough it’s all been for you but you’ve still persevered-”

“Right, sorry!” Eddie wanted to wave his hands in front of him but they were the only thing keeping him upright so he just nodded like a lunatic. “Sorry! Go ahead.”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed but was smiling now. “I can’t just go ahead. Especially now. I was gonna come down here and act all calm and cool and suave and deliver this great speech about how much it’s meant that you did all of this for me. For me?” Steve huffed and pinched his nose, his voice coming out a little shakier than before. “People don’t do things like this for me. And you stuck it out. You’ve kept going even during the hard days and there’ve been some really hard days. I know. I’ve seen them but you kept going and I’m so proud of you. Eddie, I’m so fucking proud. So yeah. I had a whole plan.”

Steve finally looked at him, his eyes were shining and his cheeks were still red but he was managing to pull himself back into his vaguely bitchy and disapproving façade that they both knew was fake but if Steve needed it to give him some strength Eddie would give it to him. 

Eddie would give him everything.

“I had to call Robin twice to hype me up and it still took me a half an hour to get down the stairs. Then I do come down the stairs and you’re sitting there, looking like that." Eddie glanced down at himself. 

Like what? He was in ratty tatty sweatpants and an old dark henley that might have originally belonged to Steve but he honestly couldn’t remember. He was in fuzzy socks and his hair looked like a bird's nest because he just wanted it washed and couldn’t be bothered to go though the whole curly girl thing Chrissy and Robin were trying to push him into. 

He just looked like Eddie.

“And you’re playing that song, trying to sing that song, my song and I couldn’t-” Steve clenched his eyes closed again, reaching his hand out blindly and Eddie shot forward, snatching Steve’s hand up in his own, leaning towards Steve so his centre of gravity was no longer behind him and holding Steve’s hand tight to his chest.

Steve would be able to feel Eddie’s runaway heart under his ribs but he didn’t care. In fact he hoped he could. He hoped it would let Steve know he wasn’t the only one who was scared out of his mind right now.

“Do you-” Steve gulped, opening his eyes again. “Do you still-”

“Yes, I still. I very still.” Eddie squeezed his hand tighter, pulled it harder into his chest, like he wanted Steve to touch his raw and bloody heart with his bare hands.

“Really? Even now? Even though… even after…?”

“Stevie.” Eddie whispered, heart breaking. “Do you think now that I’m sober I wouldn’t want you anymore?”

When Steve just shrugged Eddie couldn’t help himself. He reached a hand out, brushing his knuckles against Steve’s cheek before thumbing a tear away.

“All of this. Everything has been for you.” Eddie kept his voice low, trying to inject as much love as he could into the tone of his voice while he kept stroking Steve’s cheek. “It’ll continue to be for you as long as I live. Now that I know what I know, I don’t think there’s any going back for me. There hasn’t been for a while. I’ve been miserable for so long, hiding underneath substances and sex and denial that I forgot what it was like to even feel… neutral. I didn't know my own heart and you… you allowed me to be able to feel it again."

“Eddie… d’you- can I- can-”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes.” Steve almost sighed, relaxing like the weight of the world had just been gently lifted from his shoulders. 

“C’mere.” 

Eddie moved his hand from Steve’s cheek, curling his fingers around the back of his neck.

He pulled Steve forward and despite the thundering of his heart in his chest he had only intended it to be a short press of lips, an assurance, a comfort.

As soon as he kissed Steve, Eddie knew for certain that this was it for him. He was done for. He never wanted to kiss anyone else as long as he lived.

He’d never been kissed with so much emotion, with so much feeling. It enveloped his entire body. Any emotions that had previously been attached to kissing, he realised with sudden clarity, were just a general feeling of wild hornyness, crushing on someone, liking someone, being attracted to someone. 

All those were there when kissing Steve but there was so much more.

There was so much love and compassion and it was just so easy. They could have been doing this for years and Eddie found himself already mourning all the time that had previously been lost. He mourned who he used to be, the previous Eddie who had just been kissed out of existence despite his slow death over the last few months. The previous Eddie who’d thought that that life was the best it could ever get.

The poor bastard.

The kiss was wet and not exactly in a sexy way, Steve’s tears mingling between their mouths. Despite how it started, chaste and innocent and assuring, it didn’t stay that way even though Eddie had the best of intentions. 

Steve’s hand was at the back of his head, holding him close, trapping him in the best way as he leaned over him. Eddie felt his knee get batted out of the way and his legs pushed open as Steve settled between them, laying Eddie back on the couch and pressing him down as his tongue bullied its way into his mouth. Steve was well and truly steering this ship and Eddie was just happy to be along for the ride.

If Eddie’s eyes had been open they’d have rolled back in his head.

“Stevie,” Eddie croaked as his neck was being attacked by little nips and sucks that were making it very hard to think, “are you in the right headspace for this?”

Steve paused for a moment before pulling back to shoot him an incredulous look, hovering over him on those strong arms. “You’re asking me if I’m in the right headspace for something maybe sexual? How often have you been in the right headspace when you’ve done sexual things in the past?”

Eddie frowned. “Not very often, which is why I’m asking now.”

The line over Steve’s brow softened and he leaned down to place a kiss against Eddie’s forehead and damn there were those butterflies again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Eddie shook his head, a little more emphatically than he needed to. “No.”

“Do you want me?”

“I- yes. God, baby, I don’t want anyone else ever again.”

“Okay, good.” Steve leaned down again until he was a breadth away. "Can I continue then?"

So, like…

Eddie hadn't done anything in the last six months besides use his own hand. 

And maybe some toys. 

But he hadn't had a good fuck, hadn't had a good suck in six months after having multiple of each every week for years. In hindsight it had all been frighteningly close to some kind of sex addiction.

But still, six months.

That was to say when Eddie nodded and Steve leaned back down with that smirk of his, it was like he knew. 

Knew that when he rolled his hips down like that Eddie was at risk of blowing his load in less than ten seconds.

“Don’t care,” Steve moaned into his mouth, “don’t care if it’s quick. Don’t care. I wanna see.”

And as embarrassing as it was, that’s what did it. 

Steve telling him he wanted to see him. 

Eddie came with a cry, only barely able to coherently get half the man’s name out of his mouth. It took him longer than usual to float back into his body and even then he was still a little fucked out. Six months. He scrambled to stick his hand down Steve’s pants. This he knew. This he could practically do with his eyes closed. It only took a few minutes for Steve to follow with his mouth hanging open and a beautiful little scrunch in his brow.

“Oh shit.” Eddie sunk back into the cushions. “Don’t think I’ve come in my pants since I was sixteen.”

“I’m flattered.” Steve smiled, peppering kiss over his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“You should be.” Eddie smiled back, leaning into the easy affection he was being showered with with so much joy.

“Um,” Steve hesitated, still pressing Eddie into the couch with his body weight but up on his elbows, fiddling nervously with his hair, “just so we’re clear on-”

“I’m with you. If you want.” He slung his arms around Steve’s neck. “We can be a thing. In a relationship. Boyfriends. Partners. All of the above. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

“Hmm.” Steve tried to give a nonchalant shrug. “That could be a very long time.”

“I’m okay with that.” Eddie leaned up, making sure to seal it with a kiss.

Six Months Later

“So… here’s the thing.” Steve wedged himself in behind Eddie, legs on either side and pulling him back against his chest while Eddie tapped away on his game controller, swinging from building to building.

Eddie settled back, allowing his body to relax but keeping his eyes on the screen. “Mhm?”

“You remember the Sucker music video?” Steve nuzzled his nose into Eddie’s hair.

“Ugh.” Eddie couldn’t watch it. It had come out while Steve was on vacation the first time and Eddie hadn’t wanted to look at the guy who’d potentially destroyed one of the most important relationships in his life. 

Nowadays he was almost tempted to send the bitch a fruit basket. Sex with you helped me find love with someone else. Something like that.

“Right, well you know how there wasn’t enough footage for that gory online exclusive cut?”

“A tragedy, really.”

“Yeah. But the label is looking to release something small before you all start writing again, keep interest up and I was talking to the boys-”

“You were plotting with the boys.”

Steve nodded, tightening his arms for just a moment. “I was plotting with the boys and we were thinking why don’t we do some reshoots to get enough footage together and release it?”

Eddie had to pause the game and twist around. “Sweetheart, tell me you are not suggesting we contact whatever the fuck his name was and I go film with him again?”

Steve looked scandalised. “No! Jesus, no. That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m… well we were thinking that maybe you could film it with… me.”

Eddie turned completely, planting himself over Steve’s lap and grinning down at him. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in, ghosting his lips over Steve’s cheek, coming to a stop right by his ear. “You wanna be my victim, baby?”

“I get bitten by you enough, I might as well-” Steve gasped as Eddie sunk his teeth into his neck, sucking at the skin. “-might as well get paid for it.” He rolled his hips up and any logistical talk of the video shoot completely flew out the window.

Three weeks later and the video had been released. It was filthy, it was disgusting, it was downright sexy even if that fake blood still tasted like shit. 

Though Steve didn’t really have a problem with his face being in the video, he was mostly kept anonymous. 

Quick close up flashes of his open panting mouth before a hand was clapped over it then his neck gushing blood while Eddie practically bathed in the spray. A shot of Steve’s chest as the clothes were ripped from him, a hand tugging harshly at the hair. Then red dripping handprints over his stomach and black tipped fingers pushing his knees apart and Eddie’s hand running through his hair, leaving blood streaked in its wake, were all that was seen of him.

People went fucking wild for it. It broke through to mainstream news, which Corroded Coffin hadn’t managed to do for a while. 

Christian moms were scandalised. 

Conservative men were outraged. 

Social media was thirsty.

And Steve was starting to get offers. 

Even though he wasn’t really identifiable, people in the industry who’s job it was to know these things started sending him offers for modelling jobs or acting jobs. Though Steve had originally not given them a second look, now he was starting to look.

They’d both agreed that ethically Steve couldn’t really continue on as his P.A. anymore. The thought had once scared the everloving shit out of Eddie but now… now it was okay, because Steve was Eddie’s and Eddie was Steve’s.

Two Years Later

God, he loved being on stage. It was such a rush. How had he been doing it in an altered state for so long? 

It was their first tour since all of everything with Steve had happened. 

Nearly a year and a half since he’d had to get a new personal assistant.

Nancy was like some weird mix in between Steve and the other two, Dustin and Max.  Like Steve, she knew how to handle executives and businessmen like she was speaking a second language. She was loyal to a fault. She was small and sweet looking. People didn’t keep their guard up around her. That would be their first mistake. 

There was one very memorable instance where an overly eager and quite frankly stupid paparazzo had managed to sneak onto Eddie’s property. 

It was rumoured that the new up and coming heartthrob of indie rom-coms was allegedly the live-in boyfriend of a controversial metal singer and this idiot was sure he could get the scoop.

What he hadn’t been expecting was Nancy Wheeler in her white frilly blouse and baby blue dress pants popping him on the nose and swinging her sensible heeled foot in between his legs.

It had all been caught on security footage. 

Eddie had the screenshots framed and Nancy now had them hung behind her desk in the office she had in his house. 

Like Dustin and Max, she’d worked with Steve in the past. She was an absolute wizard when it came to organisation, she didn’t treat him like a mythical entity and she could see past the big bad image to the soft squishy human underneath.

She had a bit more trouble articulating things when it came to emotion but her intentions were never bad. 

Though Eddie and Steve didn’t have an employer/employee relationship anymore, the relationship they did have had only blossomed.

Apparently they were sickening to be around, but Eddie couldn’t really find it within himself to care. He loved his boy so why would he hide it when they were amongst friends?

Robin was forced to eat her words soon enough, which Eddie found great satisfaction in, and reminded her of it often, when he’d introduced her to Chrissy.

Those two were just as bad as he and Steve.

Eddie gave his thanks to the crowd and jogged off to the wings where Steve was waiting with a bottle of water that he nearly drowned himself with, trying to swallow it all down in one go.

Steve just rolled his eyes, making sure to stay out of sight of the crowd as he did it. Neither of them really cared if they got caught red handed with each other but if they could avoid the media circus, they would.

Steve wanted to make a name for himself on his own.

“You don’t have to do this, Eds.”

Eddie nodded. “I know.”

“It’s a big risk.” Steve continued with his hands on his hips.

“I know.” He handed the bottle back to Steve. “But I said I'd do it, didn't I?”

“You did, but you can always pull out.”

“Baby, I never pull out.”

“That's a fucking lie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes now. “Just sit back and enjoy the show, sweetheart.”

Steve gave his ass a squeeze. “Always do.”

Eddie pinched his cheek before turning and jogging back out to centre stage amongst the cries of encore from the crowd.

“Alright, alright.” He spoke into the mic. “One more song for you all. Um,” the nerves were coming in hard and fast now as he glanced behind him towards the other members who gave him encouraging nods. 

Well of course they didn’t need to be nervous. 

They weren’t singing the damn thing. 

Eddie turned back to the crowd as a stage hand came out and handed him his guitar. “I gotta be honest with you all, I’m scared shitless of performing this song. You might be wondering what that’s been doing here all this time.”

He pointed over at the piano that had been sitting quietly in a corner, unused for the whole show.

The audience ooohed and cheered.

“Unfortunately I can’t play, but Jeff here is multi-talented.” Jeff handed his guitar off and took his seat at the piano, tapping on a few keys before giving Eddie the thumbs up.

“People get crucified for covering this band. It’s just not done.” There was chattering starting up in the crowd as they started to speculate. “No one can get close to what this man had, but god damn it, there’s someone special out there who I want to do this for. They’re his favourite band and this is his favourite song and based on your reaction I think some of you already know what I’m about to fucking do. Shit.” He sighed into the mic. “This is Her Majesty. Queen.”

Eddie had no hope of being able to improvise or vamp like Freddie once had and he would never even attempt to try. So as the first piano notes played out over the speakers he opened his mouth and started to sing.

They'd practised this song to death. The whole band was adamant that if they were going to do this they were going to do it right. They guys had practised their high backing vocals for weeks. Eddie had rehearsed the song for months.

There was no way he was going to do Freddie dirty.

By the time he’d gotten to Brian May’s guitar solo he was able to move around a little and get a good look at the crowd.

His eyes landed on a mess of long dirty blond hair and he felt his mouth drop open. 

“Holy shit.” He muttered to himself.

Julian beamed up at him, his arms wrapped around a little twink of a man with a shock of black hair wearing a battle vest that if memory served, had definitely belonged to Julian last they’d met.

“Danny?” Eddie mouthed at him.

Julian’s responding nod was elated as he squeezed Danny against him tighter. Danny himself looked completely shell shocked while something was whisper-shouted into his ear over the music.

Eddie wanted to fucking jump for joy.

With a glance back into the wings, he saw Steve muttering to Nancy, gesturing out towards them. When he looked up and caught Eddie’s eye he tilted his head in question.

You wanna bring them back?

Eddie nodded, just barely catching sight of Nancy disappearing off somewhere before he turned back to finish out the song with a bang, sending one last wink Julian’s way before the lights went down.

When he opened the door to his green room, it was to the sight of Robin trying to adjust her top and Chrissy pulling her skirt back down, both red faced and breathing heavily.

“Can’t you two go find a bathroom or a maintenance closet or something? This is my room! I’m supposed to be the one doing sexy things back here.”

“We lost track of time!” Robin said with crossed arms.

Eddie stuck his hands on his hips. “Surely the sudden lack of loud music should have tipped you off that the concert was over?”

“We were distracted.” Chrissy shrugged, looking completely unapologetic.

“Well go be distracted somewhere else, I’ve got guests coming back.”

“Who?” They asked at the same time.

“An old friend.”

Just then the door behind him was opened. 

Nancy gestured Julian through, who had a huge smile on his face, pulling Danny along by the hand who looked like he was about to faint.

Eddie surged forward, catching Julian up in a crushing hug while he laughed.

“You got your man!” He cried, practically bouncing the two of them.

“I got my man!” Julian squeezed back before extricating himself from Eddie’s arms, pulling Danny forward and tucking him in under his arm. “Eddie, this is Danny Aguilar. Danny this-”

“Hi! I- uh… yeah, I um. I know you. I mean I don’t know you. I mean I know who you are…” Danny stuttered out and before Eddie could even say anything, Nancy was at his side with a small smile and a bottle of water that he took with shaking hands.

“It’s really cool to meet you, man. I’ve heard great things.” Eddie smiled at him but that only seemed to freak him out more so he decided to give the guy a break, turning his attention back to Julian who was rubbing small circles on Danny’s back.

“So tell me, how did this happen?” Eddie asked, pointing between the two of them.

“Well,” Julian gave Danny a squeeze while he took a large drink. “It was the rumours about you actually.”

Eddie snorted. “Which ones?”

“The ones about you shacking up with some guy named Steve who may or may not be the same Steve who’s been making a name for himself.” Julian raised a brow at him. “I figured that even if they weren’t true, I’d seen you get your shit together, get sober, get healthy and it made me think I could do that too. Only one life to live, you know?”

“That’s amazing.” Eddie smiled. “I’m so happy for you, man.”

Julian blushed. “Thanks. What about you?” He asked. “If you tell me that it didn’t work out after I said all of that I’m gonna feel like a giant asshole.”

“No, I-” He felt an arm slide over his shoulders.

“I think it worked out okay.” Steve grinned at him and Eddie felt like he was falling in love all over again. “I hear you were the only one to actually say it out loud to him, so I guess I have you to thank for this.” Steve tugged on one of his curls and Eddie batted his hand away, only to grab it again and hold on tight.

“Oh shit. Really?” Julian looked between them with wide eyes. 

Danny was looking at him like he’d hung the moon.

“Yeah, really. Listen, I was thinking. We have a private space booked at a restaurant for the band and the crew and the lesbians,” Steve waved his hand in Robin and Chrissy’s direction who’d fallen into quiet conversation but now just shot him matching middle fingers, “we’d love it if you wanted to come along. Let us treat you two? As a proper thank you for helping this idiot get his shit together.”

Steve pulled him in tight and Eddie just melted.

Julian was nodding enthusiastically.

And poor Danny.

Poor Danny could only squeak in agreement.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey and I hope you've loved it as much as I have. 🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt4

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

Part 4

Chris ended up never texting me last night. He probably fell asleep. I don’t blame him. I wish I was sleeping early last night. I’m worried about whether he'll pass his calculus exam. He didn’t text this morning either.

I wasn’t worried. I mean we only texted once I’m not attached or anything. 

And not to mention how distracted I am with work. Maybe it is better that he didn't pull my focus away from the important things. 

“Good morning,” my mom stumbled into the kitchen

“Good morning mom,” I responded. She rubbed her eyes and sat at the island in our kitchen. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess. I have a throbbing headache though,” She rubbed her temples with both hands, shutting her eyes and sighing. 

I walked over to the medicine cabinet and grabbed some advil. I filled a glass with some tap water and gave the pills and water to her. She mumbled a quiet “thank you” when she grabbed the water from my hand. I put the pills on the counter and grabbed my bag off the chair next to her.

“I’m about to leave for school. Do you need anything before I go?” 

She replied, “When you get out of school can you go to the store and buy me some new socks? I can’t seem to find any.”

“Yeah, mom I’ll get you some. But just so you know they have some clean socks in the basket on the dryer.” I kissed the top of her head, spinning around and heading towards the front door. 

“Thank you, Y/n. I love you, be safe.”

I looked back at her. “I love you too, mom.” 

I opened the front door, stepping outside into the cool air. 

–

I'm sitting in the parking lot, waiting for the first school bell to ring. I decided I’d smoke the rest of my joint before going into the building. It wasn’t much, just a little less than half. I’m not super lightweight with weed, thankfully. 

The clock on my car hit 6:50, meaning it was time to go inside before the late bell rings. I grabbed my stuff from the backseat and shut off my car, locking it and walking into the school building.

To be honest, I’ve been thinking about Chris most of the morning. I really hope he does well on his calculus test today.

Time for gym class. The most dreaded class of the day. But, at least I didn’t have to do it sober, right?

–

First and second hour seemed to pass by really quickly. It is now third hour and I’m sitting at my desk. I have so many butterflies in my stomach. I feel like I’m going to throw up, like something is going to happen. I don’t know why I feel like this. I might be hungry.. Or nervous. My high wore off midway through the second period meaning I was now sober again. A few people told me I needed perfume this morning. I hope I masked the smell well. I didn’t need anyone knowing I did such crazy activities in my down time. 

I looked up from my phone, seeing Chris walk in the room. His hair was a mess and his eyes looked droopy like he didn’t get enough sleep last night. He looked at me. I slightly smiled at him, pulling my headphones down to my shoulders. He trudged slowly over to my desk, rubbing his eyes with his fingers before blinking down at me. 

“Good morning, Christopher.” Something in my stomach just turned. I did feel nervous. But not just nervous, nervous to be around him. 

“Good morning,” he grunted out. He sat down on top of my desk, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“Did you get to study for your calculus test?” I asked him cautiously. I didn’t know how tired Chris would react, if he would be cranky or calm. 

“I did. All night, actually. I was going to text you but I figured you’d be exhausted. You needed the rest.”

He cared about how much I rested? So he didn’t call me, not because he was asleep but because he didn’t want to bother me. 

“Oh, silly I didn’t mind. Honestly, I was worried about whether you had been able to study.” I picked at my thumb nail, feeling his gaze on me. “How did that go by the way?”

“I think I got it all crammed into my head. I don’t get most of it but I know the basics. I’m so tired though. I slept through first and second hour.” He let out a light chuckle. A chuckle that made my insides tingle. 

“I can tell, your hair is a mess.” I brought my hand up to his head, carefully fixing his hair. His face went bright pink and he looked away from me. 

“Yeah, it’s tough to sleep with your head on a desk.” If Chris wasn’t next to me I probably wouldn’t have heard him. 

“Trust me, I know. I used to sleep in my classes a lot last year.” He turned to look at me, his face back to its original color. He was really pretty in this lighting. Classroom lighting isn’t the best, but somehow he makes it work. 

“Y/n,” he looked at me with a puzzled expression. I looked up at him, nodding my head slightly. “Do you smell weed in here?”

I shut my eyes. Shit, it’s still lingering on my clothes.

I quickly opened my eyes and reached into my bag, grabbing perfume for the fourth time today. 

“Sorry.” I stated to no one in particular. I sprayed my jacket with the perfume before placing it back into my bag. 

He had slightly wide eyes when I looked back at him.

“You smoke?” Chris was now staring at me waiting for my answer. 

“Um, every now and then I do. Is that a problem?” It didn’t come out as rude or harsh but more like a genuine question. He quickly shook his head.

“No, not at all. I just- You don’t seem like the type, you know?” I giggled quietly.

“Thanks?” I replied. The bell rang as he opened his mouth to speak. A man walked into the class. A man who’s not our teacher. Chris looked dead into my eyes and mumbled a quiet, “I’ll see you in a few,” before getting up from the top of my desk and moving to his in the back. 

“As you can see, your teacher isn’t here today. I won't be a substitute. I have a paper I will put on this desk. You all need to come look at the room you need to go to for this class period. As far as I know, your teacher will be back on Monday. Don’t push, shove, or act like wild animals when you come up here to check the paper. When you find your name and room number, sign your initials and go to that class. You don’t go to your assigned class and you will be marked as skipped, everyone understands?” The teacher looked around the class, making sure everyone knew what he was explaining. He nodded his head to himself,  “Good, you may go check your rooms.”

I got up, slowly walking to the paper on the empty desk in the front of the class. I waited for a few people before grabbing the paper, finding my name and room number. 

“What room did you get?” I felt Chris’s presence was too close to me. I turned my head slightly to see him practically leaning over me. I felt my legs start to give out a little bit, but I stood strong.

“I have to go to room 962. Yours says 240. Do you want me to sign your name for you?” I looked back at him once again, showing him the paper.

“Yes, thank you. It sucks that we have to go across the school from each other. Would you mind if I walked you there?” My eyes opened slightly. I quickly shifted, turning to face him.

“No, you don’t have to do that. I have to walk up 2 flights of stairs. Don’t waste energy you don’t have, Chris.” He looked kind of sad when I said that. 

“Trust me, I’ll be fine. Just let me walk you this one time?” I sighed. The paper was now out of my hand and on the desk. Chris was bent over the desk, signing my initials first, then his own. I rolled my eyes, went back to my desk, and grabbed my things. Chris did the same thing before we both walked out of the double doors to exit the class. 

Walking seemed like it took forever. Those stairs killed me, and Chris hasn’t said much to me. We walked close, but not too close. When we arrived at my class, I thanked him for walking me.

“Thank you, Chris. I’m sorry you had to walk me all the way over here,”

“No, don’t worry, I don't mind. I guess I should start going back down, huh?” He chuckled a little, pulling his hair out of his eyes once again. Then, he suddenly had a look on his face like he was the smartest man in the world.  “Hey, why don’t you text me?”

I smiled up at him. “Sure, Chris, I’ll text you.”

He smiled back before slowly turning around and walking to his class, across the school. I blew the hair out of my face before walking into the classroom and finding an empty desk at the back. 

–

It’s been about 30 minutes since I’ve been in class with no one I know. I had put my music on and started reading before I remembered to text Chris. I pulled out my phone and put my book away on the desk in front of me.

Hey, Chris. I pressed send. Before I could even put my phone down, I felt it vibrate in my hand. I looked down at it, reading the new message that popped up on my phone. 

Hola Y/n. He waited a second before sending another text. Sorry, I’m in a Spanish class right now. I smiled down at my phone. 

You’re silly. I’m in an art class. I don’t know anyone here. I found myself waiting for his next response. I know he read it, read receipts were on. I saw the message bubble pop up. It was an image.

I know a few people here. Class is boring as hell though. I smiled again, pressing on the picture and finding Madi and his brother Matt in the picture as well as someone I didn’t recognize.

Lucky, I’m all by myself. But I don’t mind it. Now, I can read in peace:) He responded fast.

I like how you just read all the time. Not many people do. It’s cool. What are you reading by the way?

I looked at the book, now closed, on my desk. I took a picture and sent it to him. 

Is that the giant book you carry everywhere with you? I didn’t know you were into poetry. I felt heat rush to my face. He noticed the book because I carried it around. He looked at me enough to realize that it was in my hand all the time. The message bubble popped up again. I sat and waited for his text to be sent.  A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Its loveliness increases, it will never. Pass into nothingness, but still will keep. A bower quiet for us, and a sleep. I looked down at the poem he sent. A poem by John Keats from 1956. A poem I was fond of. How’d he know that?

Did you google that? He took a second to respond. 

No, it may not seem like it, but I actually enjoy poetry. Reading isn’t my thing but I have a soft spot for anything poetic. 

He’s poetic, I thought to myself. I shook my head to myself softly.

Yeah, I didn’t take you as the type to like that kind of stuff. But it’s really nice to know, Chris. He sent a smiley face. I placed my phone down, thinking the conversation was over. Then, I felt my phone vibrate again on the desk. I picked it up and read the message. 

So, are you free tonight? I shut my eyes. I was off work Fridays and Sundays. I typed a quick message.

Yes, why?

Wanna hang out? I could still use some help on my calculus even though my test is next hour. Just to prepare me for the next one, yk? I felt my stomach turn a little. 

Sure, Chris. That sounds perfect. And just to let you know, I don’t have work on Fridays and Sundays. Sundays I'm usually pretty busy though. I pressed send waiting, once again. 

Ok, good. What time do you think we should do this? And where? Depending if my mom was home and how clean the house was, then definitely not my house. I didn’t want him to see how we lived. I mean we have a decent house, but it for sure isn’t a big beautiful house. 

I sent him a response after pondering for a while. I have to run to the store after school so probably not until later in the day. 5 maybe? And you can pick the place to meet at.

I made sure to put meet at so he didn’t suggest mine, or his house. 

5 is good. And how about we meet at the cafe near the library. That was a perfect answer, Chris. I needed a new book anyways so after I help him, I can go get the few books I need. 

Perfect. I’ll see you there. Or do you want me to pick you up? 

No no don't worry about that. I’ll get Matt to bring me. 

Chris and I sent a few texts back and forth. The bell rang, signaling the 4th hour was about to start. I sent him a quick, good luck on your calculus test, Chris. Just do your best and don’t stress over it. I picked up my things and made my way to my next class.

[airas-story]

An Unforgettable Night

“Can I get you a drink?” Stephen asked, slipping into the space next to Stark as Stark managed to dismiss the obviously-a-politician that had been bothering him.

Stark turned towards him, eyes drifting over Stephen in clear appraisal that didn’t hide his initial disinterest. It didn’t last. Stephen felt himself warm as genuine appreciation filled Stark’s eyes. Stephen knew for a fact that he cleaned up well, it was nice to get the affirmation, though. “I wouldn’t say no,” Stark said, voice low and inviting. 

Stephen gestured to the bartender, ordering two non-alcoholic drinks and sliding one over to Stark when they arrived. Stark raised an intrigued eyebrow at the choice, no doubt most people were more than happy to help Stark get drunk. But Stephen wanted Stark nice and sober for his seduction, there was no victory in it if Stark was drunk.

“Doctor Stephen Strange,” he introduced himself.

Stephen could feel eyes on him from the vultures ready to steal Stark’s time and attention the moment Stark’s attention left Stephen. They were going to be very disappointed, given Stephen planned on keeping Stark’s attention for a good long while. “Tony Stark.” Stark smirked. “But I assume you knew that already.”

There was no point in playing coy and pretending he didn’t know exactly who he was talking to. For one, Stephen didn’t play coy well, for another… well, he’d come over here for a reason, and he was more than fine with Stark knowing that. Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Is there anyone in this room who doesn’t know who you are?” he asked.

“It’s unlikely,” Stark agreed. He leaned against the bar, this time when Stark examined him, it wasn’t a physical appraisal, but clearly an attempt to determine just what Stephen wanted. Stephen wasn’t planning on being that mysterious. “So what can I do for you, Doctor Strange?”

“It’s more what I can do for you,” Stephen said.

Stark let out a low laugh, amusement mostly genuine. “And what, exactly, do you imagine you can do for me?”

“Provide you with conversation you’ll actually enjoy, for one. Unlike the last few that have nearly bored you to tears.” He’d been watching and it was clear that Stark was here because he had to be, not because he wanted to be. Stephen was here because he had to be as well, but he didn’t see why that should stop him from getting something out of it. Stephen leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Provide you a night you won’t forget, for another.”

That earned him another low laugh, Stark’s body language shifting to invite Stephen in, Stephen took the implied invitation, moving closer. “I’m not an easy man to impress, doctor. You’re very confident.”

“For very good reason,” Stephen promised.

From all accounts it wasn’t hard to get into Stark’s bed. Stephen didn’t plan on being so forgettable as that. No, if Stark was going to be truly seduced it wouldn’t be through sex, but through something far more interesting than that.

Stark’s gaze drifted over Stephen again, before coming up to focus on Stephen’s face. “All right, Doctor Strange. Let’s see just how good you are. I expect to be kept entertained. Give me a conversation that I’ll actually enjoy and then we’ll see about that night I won’t forget.”

Stephen smiled. “It will be my pleasure.”

[haechanhues]

chapter twenty : johnny suh

S I D E : A

word count : 1k

warnings : none tho includes alcohol.

It had been a rather rough day today, you were texting Sicheng earlier that day and only talked about Hendery without actually mentioning him and the attempt of subtlety had you more annoyed at him whilst both Haechan and Mark who were usually present at parties like this had ditched to attend a double date. Chenle visiting his friends instead.  

“Hey,” A girl with pretty long hair put herself in front of you, staring at you with concern in her eyes, “You alright? Do you feel sick?” 

“Uh, I’m okay,” You say, even though everything about your face reveals that nothing is okay. 

“Min,” She hisses to another girl clearly enjoying her vodka with a crazy straw, “Where’s Johnny?” 

“Why?” Min asks, unbothered and only a little concerned by your nonchalant face. 

“I’m gonna bring her to his room but I want to ask first.” 

“You’ve never made an effort before.” 

“Well he ripped into me last time, you should know! You were there-” 

“Okay, okay, Yuqi you don’t need to yell, I’m drunk not blind.” 

Yuqi curses to herself, promising to never let Minnie touch another vodka and cranberry ever again. Not while she’s there to look after her, anyways. 

“Just use it, I’ll go find him,” Minnie decides before wandering off with her empty glass and Yuqi wants to trust her, she does but she finds you need her more than Johnny does right now so she leads you to his room and sits you on his bed, happy to find the older man had cleaned his room. 

Yuqi sits you on the bed, checking your face for anything in your gaze before she kneels in front of you, “I’m gonna get you some water, okay? It’ll make you feel better.” 

You nod, though you feel a little better just being somewhere quiet and watch as Yuqi hurries outside to retrieve you some water. You miss the scent on her clothes as soon as she leaves and you sit silently. 

Patiently. 

Until you’re no longer patient anymore. You figure she must have got caught up, or in the ‘worst’ case scenario forgot about you. 

You stand, looking around at the room you’re in, figuring the best way to let time pass by is to have a little nosy around. It’s a clean boy room, with cool neon lights framing a bit of his bed and the faintest smell of cologne. 

Narrowing your eyes you peek curiously through his array of photos lined up against each other, showcasing his life and his personality. 

In fact, one of his friends looks exactly like Moon Taeil, strangely enough. 

“Uh- hi?” A deep voice frightens you so much that you look even more guilty, caught in the act and looking way too much like a deer in headlights to be innocent. 

“I’m not stealing anything!” 

The man laughs, “I didn’t think you were. You lost?” 

“Uh no- I’m uh- waiting for Yuqi-” 

He curses, “Fucking Yuqi, always bringing strays into my room-” 

Your eyebrows raise to which he laughs good naturedly, “Nothing to take offence over, really. At least you’re not fucking her.” 

You giggle, “I’m not. She’s getting me a water, and I- I think you’re the one that Min had to tell I was coming here-” 

Johnny snorts, “Yeah, right. I’m Johnny by the way.” 

“Y/N.” 

“So, “ Johnny sighs, laying down next to you with his arms supporting his neck, “Why are you here in the quiet instead of the rager downstairs?” 

“Honestly, I can’t be bothered,” You admit, your chin held by the back of your hand. Johnny finds it endearing, how comfortable you’re getting with him. While sober. It’s kind of nice…the change. 

Johnny chuckles, “I hope you’re bothered enough to tell me. I need some new gossip.” 

“Hmm,” You pretend to think hard, “It depends, are you going to tell people?” 

“Nah,” Johnny scoffs, “Even if I did…they’re all drunk and terrible conversationalists. I mean- you’ve met Minnie.” 

You start your story with a short cough to clear your throat and it’s an unveiling filled with every boy that has made your life. Your friends. Even Minnie and Yuqi to which he was glad to add his own comments about. 

You appreciate the way his eyes widen, and how he lets out a dramatic inhale of breath at every climax of your stories. He even scoots closer to you, in love with your storytelling and the complete gossip he’s getting from you right this minute. 

Minnie, who’s behind the door listening, appreciates it just as much. She wants to keep you. Just so she can see what happens next. 

“And Hendery? Are you still in love with him?” 

You shrug, “Yeah- but like I can’t be that in love with him if I like other people, right?” 

“Not necessarily, consider this...you’re a single girl, in a new town, living her life and learning about the world and it just so happens that you end up liking some of the people you connect with,” Johnny advises, looking very ‘shrink’ as he watches the information process in your brain. 

“But I don’t know if what I feel for Hendery is love…still love. He even said I should move on.” 

“So? Are you moving on? And if so, are you moving on for the right reasons?” 

“Right reasons?” 

“Although I love a revenge plot, it won’t work for you in this case. It’s just pettiness.” 

“Has anyone told you how hot you are?” Your voice diverges into another topic. Since you’ve been thinking about how sexy he is for the past minute… 

“Plenty of times.. It doesn’t hurt to hear it again though and usually not when I’m saying something they should listen to….” 

“Well then you’re hot,” You confess. Minnie has to roll her eyes as the conversation becomes a little too streaming site clickbait-esque and makes a quick exit, jogging to tell Yuqi the plan of adopting you. 

Johnny grins, “Thanks.” 

You beam back, “You’re welcome.” 

You press a chaste kiss to his lips in gratitude. For the conversation and the advice. Resisting the urge to kiss him again and again. 

S I D E : B

THE SERIAL LOVER

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering. 

chapter twenty : johnny suh

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taglist: @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @ahnneyong @liliansun

[judasgot-it]

Tachihara x Reader

Scenario: You get a ride home with Tachihara after attending a company party. On the way back, you decide to attend a shitty pop-up carnival

I had this in my drafts for like over 2 months so I just wanted to like, finally finish it. I think it's silly and idk not the best, still figuring out how to write Tachihara TBH but I think he's a cutie patootie.

Side note this is like 3500 words ?? it's kinda long for tumblr but ima upload it anyway

As the secretary of the Hunting Dogs, you were unfortunately forced to attend their company parties.

If there was someone else in your department, you would have loved to complain to them about how this was 'unfair' and a 'worker's violation' as you were not even being paid to attend these.

Off the clock.

But no one else was dumb enough to take this job, so you were the only person in your department. Seriously, you did the paperwork for 5 people.

The dental was amazing, though.

But that left you as the only 'sane' person forced to witness the antics of the Hunting Dogs while they were drunk. Really, you forced to watch them sober, since you couldn't ever get more than a drink in before the drinking contest began.

You would think Tecchou would be better than this but as of now, he was doing karaoke with the commander while Teruko was laughing at...nothing. She was somehow standing though, which was better than Fukuchi who was shirtless and kneeling on the floor while singing whatever song was playing.

You could barely tell what it was, it might've been Taylor Swift. He seemed...passionate.

If you had to hear whatever sad song it was all night you were going to make your ears bleed.

Although thankfully, you had a backup plan. You couldn't drive - your car was destroyed in a recent bombing attack, so you were lucky that your bed for tonight was your desk.

Which was on the other side of the building, probably far enough away to at least let you sleep quietly.

You could probably get away with it. No one here would notice.

So you took your snacks - which were probably the best thing about these parties, and left for what would be your bedroom

Exiting the room, you could see now that it was quiet and kind of terrifying - a liminal space.

The hallway was now darker than it should have been, settled in an uneasy quiet. The lights above your head had sobered you up quickly, as you walked away from the room, leaving the sounds of laughter and screaming.

You felt something warm pull your shoulder to look behind you. The reaction you had might have been dramatic.

"Are you ok? You aren't scared are you?"

Tachihara was there, smiling as he looked perfectly sober - he didn't even smell of any alcohol, holding a juice box instead.

Now you felt a real fear coursing through your veins. He was going to say something, wasn't he?

"No, I was just heading out."

You weren't shaken easily - unsettled yes, but not truly scared.

"Do you want a ride home?" He said it with a genuine smile, not knowing the genuine terror that was running through your veins right now.

You really did care about Tachihara, as he was probably the most normal member of the Hunting Dogs, but there was one flaw you could not get around.

He drove a motorcycle. You hated motorcycles.

It was nothing short of terrifying every time you saw him riding it, let alone the thought of you getting on it. How could you? It was nothing short of a death trap.

There were no seatbelts either, there was just too much that could possibly kill you.

"No that's ok. I didn't plan on going home anyway, I was going to sleep in my office."

It sounded weird saying it outloud, but you were not going to let him take you on a ride on his deathtrap.

Tachihara just blinked.

"Really? Isn't it closed off still for cleaning?"

Oh. Right.

"Then the lounge. I can manage. Seriously, don't worry about me, just get yourself home, ok? I don't want to be a bother when it's so late."

You tried to sound serious, but Tachihara was still a man that had major flaws. His right now? Being too kind.

A good flaw, but a painful one to fight.

"No it's ok, you aren't a bother. Seriously, your house isn't far off from mine, it'd be very quick I swear."

He was earnest, already leading you in the opposite direction of where you were originally going. You decided not to fight it.

Home was better than a dirty floor anyway, so why not?

You let him guide you to where his vehicle of death was waiting, accepting your fate.

It would be a short ride, so you would just have to suffer through it for only a little bit. That's what you told yourself.

"Oh, Jouno! What are you doing out here?"

Oh god oh please no.

Just at your greatest inconvenience, you found Jouno outside the building, right in front of the parking lot, sitting right at the smoker's bench. His white head of hair peaked from underneath the overhang, nearly impossible to ignore.

"Oh, Tachihara. Are you heading home?"

"Yeah, I was bringing Y/n home too. Do you need a ride? I can't help but notice you're sitting here by yourself..."

Tachihara was too kind. You were already forced to accept his offer, but please, Jouno could take care of himself-

"Tachihara have I ever told you that you're one of the only people I respect on the team?"

Jouno had gotten up, strolling over to where the two of you stood underneath the light. You hated this. Jouno definitely was going to tease you about how scared you were, which was not fun at all.

Also, how were three people going to fit on his bike? It wasn't exactly the biggest, and shoving you between two full-grown men didn't seem ideal.

"Are you sure we're all going to fit? I could just go back inside or call a ride."

You said this in hopes of maybe getting out of it one last time. Jouno just laughed.

"Aw, are you scared?"

Tachihara, the angel that he was, reached over and patted your shoulder.

"You'll have me and Jouno. Know I won't let anything happen to you - swear on it."

"You swear on what?"

Tachihara paused, contemplating his next words.

"Um...my sword."

You raised your eyebrow at him. He patted your shoulder again, trying to put your unease to rest.

"Let's just go."

Jouno walked ahead, towards what will be your sudden demise. You tried to stay calm following behind them as you saw the death trap in waiting.

Tachihara walked towards its side, taking the helmet he had let hang on its handlebar, and gently placed it on top of your head. You didn't bother fighting him, looking to the side as he fiddled with the clasps underneath your chin.

"You probably need this the most. Don't worry though, I'm a safe driver."

"It's not that - what if there's a drunk driver and they hit us? What if I fall off? What if we're all too heavy and we can't turn properly and we crash and explode?"

You felt a hand land on your shoulder as your heart pumped through your ears. Your fear was starting to overwhelm you.

"Don't be a pussy Y/n. Get on, I'd like to go home."

That was really reassuring. Thanks, Jouno.

You straightened up, holding your sandwiches closer to your chest. Tachihara sat on the bike, patting the seat behind him.

You got on, pressing your body behind Tachihara's. You didn't know what to do with your arms, so you just clutched your sandwiches. They were your sense of comfort right now.

"Y/n, you'll fall off if you don't hold onto something."

Oh. With one arm, you grabbed Tachihara's waist, trying your best to keep your head up and look forward.

"Scoot forward."

You felt Jouno sit behind you, pressing you closer against Tachihara. You felt his hand sneak around you, stealing from your sandwich bag. Bastard.

You swatted him away, trying not to fall off. It led to you leaning your full body on Tachihara, who was taking a long time to put his keys in the ignition.

"Did you forget how to drive Tachihara? I'm getting a little cold back here."

Jouno said this with a mouthful of your sandwich. He chastises manners but here he was, a thief and a brat.

"Who said you could have my sandwiches?"

"They aren't yours, know your place Y/n."

"You didn't even stay to eat any of them so shut up-"

The bike started, to Tachihara's joy. You felt the fear course back through your body again, but you didn't get to dwell on it it again as he only kicked back the leg and started bike, not giving you even a chance to adjust yourself.

You tried to hold your head up and stay strong, not show weakness - but the wind picking up around you and all you could do was bury your head behind Tachihara.

You heard Tachihara and Jouno begin a conversation but you didn't even acknowledge it, not even the sandwich stealing anymore as you held onto the man before you as if your life depended on it. Hopefully, his surgeries were enough to protect against your iron grip, as it was the only thing that made you truly feel safe.

The ride wasn't even a full 5 minutes but you felt like you were in hell that whole time. You'd think being pressed against two men like this would be more romantic but you didn't feel that way, instead feeling bile rise up in your throat every time you all turned.

"That stupid carnival is back in the city. I can smell it from all the way over here."

You perked up at that. Jouno had his head up, his hands loosely holding onto your waist - this type of ride really did seem normal to him, as he just looked out somewhere, eating his sandwich.

"Oh that seems fun. Do you wanna go? They stay open pretty late."

Jouno scoffed.

"No, they absolutely reek. I also happen to value my sleep, unlike some people." The people you assumed he was referring to were his teammates, who were most likely either passed out drunk or still singing their godawful karaoke.

"Why don't you and Y/n go, I know you absolutely love carnival rides, don't you Y/n?"

Your heart was speeding up. That was terrifying - you hated the idea of any of that.

"Who says I don't like my sleep either, Jouno?"

"I'd like to go! C'mon, it'd be fun! We can go on rides, maybe we'll even arrest someone!"

Tachihara was being so positive tonight. It was almost suspicious. It was tempting to say yes just because of his attitude alone, but there was that funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of it.

"But what if the ride breaks down and we all get crushed or fall out and die?"

You were simply being realistic.

"I'm a hunting dog, Y/n. I can handle something like that easily. Plus, if that happened Jouno would be there, right?"

"I'm not a chaperone for your little kiddie date. You can handle things by yourselves, the worst is just you guys getting scammed."

Finally, you'd stopped to drop off Jouno. He could've walked this distance, although maybe he had something to gain from the ride. Like your food, which was now all gone.

All you had left was an empty bag, the absolute prick that he was. He also left you a cold back, since you were squished between him and Tachihara during the duration of your ride. From his smirk, as he was walking away, waving goodbye to the two of you, he knew how agitated he had left you.

It made you pull yourself closer to Tachihara, trying to steal his body warmth in order to recoup what had been lost. Tachihara coughed, adjusting himself so the two of you could have more space on the bike.

"So? Let's go to the carnival."

It was a way to break the silence the two of you had fallen into. He said it was a confident smile, as if he practiced this in the mirror twenty times before. You simply nodded, not knowing how to reply.

He revved up the bike, heading in its direction. You didn't know what to say to get out of this, since a part of you did want to go.

It'd be like a fun date, even if you couldn't say that out loud.

"I'm scared of rollercoasters."

You told him honestly. You hoped he wouldn't judge you, seeing as he was a very earnest man.

"I figured. Don't worry, we'll conquer your fear tonight. Exposure therapy does wonders, and plus? I'll be there the entire time, so it's not like you'll be alone."

You said nothing, just holding his waist firmly. This seemed like a better idea than what you had originally planned for tonight, so why not? You could trust Tachihara.

He stopped the bike, in some lot a little walk away from the carnival. You could hear the pop music and screams coming from the place.

Turning towards you, he gave you a warm smile.

"If anything does happen, I'll be sure to protect you, ok?"

You handed him the helmet, giving him a smile. You did appreciate the gesture, as much as it was well-intentioned. That didn't stop you from not wanting to rip your own teeth out of your mouth as you got off the bike and forced yourself the walk towards the carnival, and not away.

"How expensive are these places anyway? I don't actually know if I have my wallet on me."

"Oh don't worry, we aren't paying."

Oh?

Tachihara turned towards you, a strange look on his face. One you would associate with Teruko or Jouno - a grin that typically held ill intentions.

Mischief.

What was this man dragging you into?

Well, turns out - dubiously legal activities.

Being a hunting dog had its perks. For one thing, his government ID assured him discounts everywhere he went. It was great when he went grocery shopping - you would know, you abused Fukuchi's credit card as a perk of your job.

Although telling the ticketing staff that he was 'inspecting' the rides, and would arrest anyone who didn't comply with his orders, hardly counted as getting a 'free' discount.

You were now forced to play along with this. You didn't even know Tachihara had such a cruel side to him, bullying a bunch of carnival workers who just wanted to get a paycheck by making fun of teenagers and out-of-touch men in their 40s.

It was a hard job to have, obviously.

The staff stalked the two of you as you walked in, giving you goosebumps. It didn't help that the two of you were still in your work clothes, really selling the 'government inspection' that the two of you were giving.

Although by the end of the night, you were expecting your clothing to probably need a good dry cleaning.

The fair wasn't bad - but you could smell vomit near some of the rides, and they looked suspiciously rusty. Clearly, this place was in tip-top shape. You just had to convince yourself that the Ferris wheel wasn't making suspicious creaking sounds every time it started up again.

You clearly were just a bit paranoid.

"So what should we ride first? I'm thinking we start small and then build our way up."

Tachihara had his hands on his hips, looking around for the best ride to start. He was being nice at least, giving you the illusion of choice now that you've gotten this far.

You were stuck. It didn't matter what you did, you were the idiot that agreed.

"I'm ok with that. I don't think the hand gliders look that bad, they seem pretty tame."

It also featured a seatbelt. And a big, nice, safety bar.

The best part? It was a two-seated ride. So if something happened on that ride, you knew that Tachihara would be there with you.

Tachihara smiled, as clearly, this would be a good night for him.

-

The night was going about as great as you expected it to. Although, you could even say a little better, even.

If this were a date, you might have kissed Tachihara by the end of it. You sure as hell owed him something at the very least, as he had now been your human cushion on several rides, preventing you from being crushed against the greasy metal as they began.

It was a good thing he was a hunting dog. Your body weight against his was nothing to him, although he still felt like complaining once and a while about how much pain you put his ribs in.

As if you were the one with the bright idea to go here.

If he died because you crushed him to death, it was entirely his fault and his fault alone.

"You know what we need to do?"

You watched as he pointed at the ferris wheel - one that loomed over the carnival, due to it's sheer height. Seriously, how tall was that thing?

"I mean...yeah."

There were no arguments against him here. You've gone on every other ride already - you've even ridden the carousel 3 times. Tachihara used the excuse that you were 'inspecting the ride' for imperfections.

You were starting to think he was serious at some point, when he spent 5 minutes grilling a poor fair worker about the importance of safety and on how rusty their bolts were.

There was no time to dwell on that though - Tachihara was smiling as he dragged you to the last stop at the carnival of doom.

"I heard some kid saying that from the top they could see the entire city. That sounds pretty cool, doesn't it?"

He was smiling ear to ear.

You couldn't deny that offer when he looked like that.

So with your head in your heart, you let yourself be dragged through the motions, letting it drop to your stomach as you watched the city fall below you as your body raised to the sky.

You tried to stay at ease even as you were slowly raised higher and higher into the sky, the cart you were sat in shaking back and forth more than you were comfortable with.

It made you scoot closer to Tachihara, squeezing him as if he were your lifeline. He might as well be, since his body would survive a fall at this height while yours would splatter.

"Look! You can see headquarters over there."

He was pointing outward, towards a rather dark spot of the city. But it was visible, which to you felt amazing.

Also terrifying.

You clutched his arm tighter. As insurance.

He was also incredibly warm - it was cold so high up, and unfortunately, your work uniform did not account for this. You were practically trying to melt into him due to how cold you were, but you still had some pride left. You would suffer a little, having your exposed skin go numb from the cold.

"Hey, Y/n. I wanna tell you something."

"Are you going to kiss me?"

It was the perfect moment for it, really. You couldn't blame him. Everything was screaming that this was a "how I met your mother" moment anyway.

"What? Sorry. Um. No. Just-"

Tachihara looked at you, red in the face. He pushed you into his chest, holding you tight. If you squeaked, that was between you, him and the ferris wheel.

"I think I like you."

You blinked. Your hands were awkwardly held up around Tachihara, not knowing where to go. You could feel him awkwardly fidgeting with the fabric on your shoulders in your silence, as you tried to figure out a way to respond.

The ferris wheel creaked in the silence, keeping the two of you alone up top, watching the city.

"Um. I like you too, Tachihara."

You put your hands on his waist, feeling just below his ribcage. He was skinny for a guy, but you could still feel his strength.

"But how much?"

"How much?"

"How much do you like me?"

You huffed, gripping his uniform shirt and pulling him away. His eyes were almost wet with worry as he looked at you, trying to discern what you meant by your words. Fucking idiot.

"Enough to deal with this. And enough to want to kiss you."

You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking him dead in his honey eyes. His gaze was dead set, looking right at you, not even at the city that was behind you.

"Kiss me. I'm not asking again."

You closed your eyes and waited until you felt his cold lips press against yours, finally obliging your order. It was all enough to distract you from how your stomach dropped at the thought of being so high up in the air, as now your stomach was dropping at his hands reaching down to touch your waist, his knees knocking against yours as he tried to pull you closer.

[missathlete31]

Work In Progress.... Thursday?

This little conversation came to me when, (shockingly) I was thinking about Hangman angst. Basically it's a conversation between Javy and Nat after the mission, where Javy can't seem to take everyone bashing his best friend anymore (aka fandom Javy is the best Javy).

It paints Hangman in a good but sad light, (sorry I can't help it, I'm VERY BIAS towards him). But I would love to hear what people think about it.

Fair Warning: It's a very rough first draft! Also some adult language in here.

"Are you really all that fucking blind" Coyote spat, an unusual show of animosity dripping from his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"It's an act, Jesus Christ, it's a fucking act" Coyote looked her right in the eyes, any drunkeness she thought she saw was long gone, "he acts like a dick, he acts like the world's cockiest asshole but god he doesn't know any better."

"Don't excuse his bullying-"

"It's how he gets you all to fly better Phoenix, and don't even try to deny that it didn't work. He a shitty communicator but he gets results."

"Why would he bother-“

"Because he cares, shit he cares. He worries non-stop about all of you, about all of us. He brought up Bradshaw's father, a dick move I know" he cut in before Natasha could, "because he was petrified that Rooster wouldn't fly fast enough without it. He knew Mitchell was picking him for the mission and he needed to get him motivated."

"Maverick wasn't even team leader then, don't tell me Hangman knew-"

"Of course he knew, we all did. Everyone saw there was history, everyone saw the way Maverick chased after Rooster on the tarmac that first day. It was obvious he was on some sort of apology tour and was going to use the wingman spot to curry favor- I'm not saying Bradshaw didn't deliver in the end" Javy raised a hand to stop the argument she was about to make, "but you cannot tell me that he was the right choice prior. He never made it through the course under the time. He constantly ignored his group to make a point that slower was fine."

Natasha's gaze turned to Rooster who was chatting with Omaha, Fitz, Fanboy and Payback at the pool table. All was good now but Phoenix remembered the fear in Payback's voice over the comms when he knew Rooster wasn't flying fast enough; wasn't leading them fast enough. Coyote was right; she was blinded by her loyalty at the time but choosing Rooster was clearly Maverick's attempt at making amends, a decision that could have resulted in people not making it home. She turned back to see the other pilot was watching her gaze, "You knew it too,” Coyote told her softly some of his anger burned away, “you just didn't want to accept it."

"I couldn't" she looked down, "not at the time."

"I get it."

But Natasha raised her head, her own anger coming back, "Of course you do," she chided, "you’re blinded by your best friend too. You can't honestly convince me that his actions are because he cares. He insults us regularly.” she spat bitterly.

“He pushes you, in the only way he knows how.”

“Coyote-“

"Believe whatever you want" Javy shrugged, "he prefers you think the worst of him anyway."

"I mean it's just- he's-"

"I know what he is" and again that sobering look was on the man's face, "I know better than anyone and if you or any of the other's would bother to take a second to really look, you'd see it too."

"He's horrible to everyone, can you blame them-"

"Who is always the first one to text you for your birthday Natasha, no matter where either of you are stationed?"

"Okay but-"

"Who sent flowers for your grandmother's funeral? Who drove you six hours to your parents that time you were stuck four years ago? Who helped Yale get the leave he needed by trading in his own? Who made sure Rooster got to the hospital the night of his car accident in flight school? Who salvaged Halo's birthday party when everyone got reassigned at the last minute? Who fought those guys that jumped Omaha despite having no other backup? Who cleaned up when we all got trashed after the dogfight football game so Penny didn't have to on her own? I know it's easier to think of Jake Seresin as a dick but don't deny he hasn't been a friend all these years as well. I thought better of you."

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, “tell me, do you know when Jake's birthday is?"

The woman couldn't help the heat that rushed to her face from her lack of answer, "I- I don't" she admitted.

"Do you know anything about him? His family? His hometown? Anything? Did you know he never goes back home during leaves or holidays? He stays on base alone or he goes with me if I'm off the same time."

Again Nat shook her head, "I- I never realized-"

"Yeah" Coyote finished his drink and stood up from his barstool, "I didn't think so."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on him. I want to make sure he's alright-"

Her brow furrowed, "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Just forget it."

"No wait," she pulled at Javy's arm so he couldn't walk away, "I’m serious. I know he didn’t come out tonight but I figured he had other plans or something. Is that not the case?”

Coyote looked her dead in the eye for a moment and Phoenix felt like she was taking a test she didn’t know how to pass. Finally Javy seemed to lower his defensives, “He didn’t come out because he was trying to get some sleep” the man shared carefully.

“Oh-“ Nat couldn’t contain the surprise, “he’s having trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re worried about him” she observed softly.

“Someone has to” he shot back tightly, “because he sure as shit isn’t going to worry about himself.”

The statement caught Natasha off guard but she opted to not question it. She always thought of Jake Seresin as self centered but clearly from the stress in Javy’s posture, it seemed that cockiness was just another part of the Hangman show. Phoenix cleared her throat to get her companion’s attention, “do you think-“ she huffed out a breath, not sure how her request would be received, “do you want some company to go check on him? Maybe I can help?”

Coyote stayed silent for a moment as he watched her with a frown. His eyes shifted to the other Daggers still having fun before they rested back on the female aviator, “don’t you want to get back to the others?”

“I want to check on my friend” she amended with a raised brow, relieved when Javy matched her expression but didn’t exactly contradict her. “He’s not going to like it” Coyote offered instead, “Jake didn’t want anyone to know.”

“When have I ever done what Hangman likes” she tried to joke. It barely landed but Phoenix counted it as a win when Javy gave the tiniest of a nod towards the door, “alright, let’s go.”

Part 2:

Javy headed into the gym quickly, immediately reaching for the speed controls on the treadmill and slowing it to a walking pace. Hangman offered a weak nod as he staggered off the machine. "Thanks man" the man's voice was breathy as he panted, "went a little too hard."

"'A little hard?'" Coyote mocked, "you look ready to collapse-"

The blonde waved him off, reaching for his water bottle and taking a big sip, "I'm fine- what you doing here anyway?"

"When I didn’t see you in your bunk, I figured your dumbass would head to the gym, do you have any idea what time it is? What are you doing Jake? The treadmill says you’ve been running for 11 miles already! Are you crazy?”

The blonde pilot bristled in indignation but Javy could see the touch of embarrassment that colored Hangman's cheeks, "It’s fine” Jake argued, “It’s just a work out, don’t get all upset-"

"I will get upset because you’re meant to be trying to get some sleep" he emphasized the other man’s sweating body, "this doesn't look like sleeping."

"Just needed to get my body a little more tired before I try again-"

"Jake this is the fifth night in a row-"

"It's getting better, I was able to get twenty minutes before-"

Javy shook his head sadly, "You need to talk to someone man,"

"I'm handling it-"

"No you're not, you haven't gotten a decent night sleep since we docked and I'm getting worried.”

Hangman opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he noticed another figure in the gym, a dark haired woman standing just a few feet back, "Phoenix?" he gaped out in surprise, “what are you doing here?"

Nat offered a weak wave as she stepped closer, "Hey Bagman-"

Jake’s green eyes narrowed onto his best friend, cold with betrayal, "Why did you bring her?” He asked sternly.

Javy shrugged, "She insisted."

"For what?” Hangman asked, “ I texted you before that I was fine. I told you to enjoy your night-"

"And I wasn't. Not with you here not sleeping- come on man, let me help-"

"There's nothing to help" Jake turned to Phoenix, his voice short but with more emotions than he normally showed, “I don't know why you felt the need to come but you can head on back to the bar now, nothing to see here."

The woman refused to be deterred, "I heard you’re having trouble sleeping-“ she began.

Jake’s shot Javy another nasty look before turning back to Nat with a smirk on his face, “no actually,” he retorted icily, “I felt like a late night workout. It takes a lot to look this good-“

"Jake-" she couldn’t contain her eye roll, “you don’t have to lie”

“Lie about what Natasha?" He opened his arms like he welcomed her argument, “I’m sleeping fine okay? Javy is just being ridiculous. I’m good-“ but he cut off when Natasha’s hands grabbed his. “Jake” she whispered, waiting until his green eyes finally met hers, “please. I'm not here to judge you. It’s okay.” she motion to Javy and herself, “we both just want to help you.”

“I don’t need help!” The man continued to argue. “I told you I’m good- I can sleep anytime I want okay,” his composure started to slip, his words becoming more frantic, “I can. It’s fine. I’m fine-“

She squeezed his hand tighter, “it’s normal what you’re going through” she reasoned but the blonde aviator only shook his head, “it’s not” he finally admitted, voice broken, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” he let out a loose sob.

“Oh Jake” Nat pulled him into her chest despite their size difference, “there’s nothing wrong with you. I get nightmares too you know-"

But it was clear she said the wrong thing as Hangman jumped from her embrace as though burned. He scrubbed at his face, erasing any evidence of his breakdown. “It makes sense you have nightmares” the man explained, his tone softened at the woman’s admission, but he kept his distance. “You had the bird strike, you flew the mission. Your nightmares are warranted.” He shook his head, “I was just the spare, I never flew the course-“

Nat's eyes widen as she stared at the exhausted man in front of her. One look at Javy and she could tell that he felt just as horrified at Hangman's rationale. “Jake- you flew the mission-"

"I didn't. I was just a dick to everyone and compromised the team.”

She shook her head, "You saved Bradley and Mav, you got a confirmed kill, you saved the day-"

"And I was almost too late, the missile... I-" he trailed off, his face contorting with emotions before he was able to pull the Hangman mask back on. Jake steeled his features, “look I don't need your concern alright? Go back to the others, both of you. I'm fine-"

"Jake-" Javy argued reaching forward and gripping his best friend's arm. Jake gave it a second before he shook of the touch, "Leave me alone, I mean it."

TO BE CONTINUED: (Maybe?)

[archivxx]

can i request a pete thelman x reader fic (in pete's pov) where the reader is really terribly drunk at a party and pete finds her after some guy is trying to take advantage of her and pete takes care of her and talks with her all night.... they can be dating or not, i just desperately need my delusions to be met 🤤🤤🤤🤤 (also ur writing literallt makes me scream with how good it is, ur smau is really good so far and i can't wait to see if develop)

Oh my dear anon 😈 you know right where my soft spots are, I’ve been wanting to write Pete for the LONGEST time but never had a reason to😒

But actually I was thinking of doing an Pete AO3 fic after my Kyle x reader one. Hmm decisions decision…

Anyway the one shot💪

“You worry me.”[Pete Thelman x reader]

Pairing: Pete Thelman x reader.

Genre: FUFF FLUFF FLUFF

Style: Oneshot(-ish since I decided to add texts too)

POV: Pete

Context: you were Pete’s best friend, and conveniently(for you) the person he has been harbouring feelings for since you first met. In favour of you, he’d always been(or tried to at least be) rational about his feelings, until now.

He didn’t give you any time to reply. Adrenaline had already set in.

He jumped out of his bed and put his shoes on and ran out to his car, forgetting his coat. It didn’t matter right now. The text you had sent him was worrying.

Pete drove to the party as quick as he could, even running a few red lights in favour of you.

When he got to the party he bust through the door and began searching every room for you, bedrooms, closets, kitchen, bathrooms.

He was on the second floor, he grabbed the door handle for the bathroom and swung the door open, almost ripping it clean off its hinges.

There you were, a guy almost twice you strength pinning you against the wall. You were too drunk to understand that he was trying to take advantage of you but you were not too drunk to understand that Pete had just walked into the bathroom and that he was here for you.

“Get off her you asshole!” The jealousy that was seeping through Pete’s whole being was enough to give him the strength to rip the guy clean off you and give him one nose breaking punch in the face.

The guy ran out of the bathroom as Pete turned to you, you were still smiling at him. He softened and walked to you, hugging you

“You scared the shit out of me, idiot” his arms tighten around you. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded and allowed him to lead you out of the bathroom, out of the house and to his car.

He helped you in then got in himself. Halfway through the drive you finally spoke.

“I want McNuggets…” you’d scared him when you spoke, but when he actually heard what you said and how sad you sounded he caved and took you to a McDonalds.

Who was he to deny you of anything anyway?

“Do you want fries?”

“Yeah..”

“A drink?”

“Yeah…”

He didn’t bother asking you what drink as he was going to get you water regardless. You needed to sober up asap.

He nodded and ordered your food. He quickly drover round and collected it. He placed the food on your lap and almost immediately you perked up, smiling and diving into the bag.

The rest of the drive to his place you were much happier. You were even able to get out of the car yourself and walk right into his house and into the guest room.

You practically lived there anyway.

“Lay on the bed, I’ll take your shoes off for you”

You nodded and threw yourself on the bed.

Pete sat down on the floor starting to untie your shoelaces. He pulled off the first shoe before you caught him off guard.

“I love you Pete…I love you so much.”

He froze, his entire body turning into a flame. He knew you were drunk and probably meant it platonically but he couldn’t help but entertain the possibility that you knew what you were saying and that you meant it.

He knew that chances were slim so he decided to brush it off. He shook his head and started to work on your other shoe. When he pulled it off and stood up it was clear you were fast asleep.

He decided to leave you be however not before he placed an old bucket on the bed incase of an emergency. He turned away and flicked off the lights, leaving you to sleep.

The rest of the night he struggled to sleep, constantly replying the words “I love you” he’d only ever feel this way when the words were said to him if it was your voice. No one else would ever-have ever-have that affect on him.

—

I hope you enjoyed this my lovely anon, it was very much RUSHED, since I was eating💪

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

ALBUM OF THE DAY: Lorde - Melodrama (2017) (5/?)

WHICH PEDRO BOY IS BASED ON? Frankie Morales (Catfish)

ALBUM VIBES (listen to it on Spotify)

The lows and highs of a relationship while on a coming of age story. A big part of Melodrama lyrics is between what it used to be and the current state of the relationship, Lorde is direct about her emotions and how well-aware she is about trying to fill a void with anything else. Frankie enjoys having control of his life but often shifts between patience and a quick temper when under stress. He also had a past of substance abuse, making the album's theme of finding oneself while taking it anywhere to avoid the pain relatable as well.

FRANKIE MORALES CODED LYRICS

“Did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?” (Green Light)

“I whisper things, the city sings 'em back to you” (Green Light)

“Oh God, I'm clean out of air In my lungs, it's all gone. Played it so nonchalant, it's time we danced with the truth” (Sober)

“I'm acting like I don't see every ribbon you used to tie yourself to me” (Sober)

“We pretend that we just don't care, but we care (but what will we do when we're sober?)” (Sober)

“We know that it's over In the morning, you'll be dancing with all the heartache and the treason, the fantasies of leaving” (Sober)

“A couple rebel Top Gun pilots flying with nowhere to be, don't know you super well but I think that you might be the same as me, behave abnormally” (Homemade Dynamite)

“I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies” (Homemade Dynamite)

“Our rules, our dreams, we're blind, blowing shit up with homemade dynamite” (Homemade Dynamite)

“We'll end up painted on the road, red and chrome, all the broken glass sparkling I guess we're partying” (Homemade Dynamite)

“I overthink your p-punctuation use, not my fault, just a thing that my mind do” (The Louvre)

“Can you hear the violence? Megaphone to my chest” (The Louvre)

“Blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you” (The Louvre)

“I understand, I'm a liability, get you wild, make you leave” (Liability)

“The truth is I am a toy that people enjoy till all of the tricks don't work anymore and then they are bored of me” (Liability)

“I know that it's exciting, running through the night but every perfect summer's eating me alive until you're gone, better on my own” (Liability)

“They're gonna watch me disappear into the sun” (Liability)

“The waves come after midnight I call from underwater, why even try to get right?” (Hard Feelings/Loveless)

“It's time to let go of this endless summer afternoon” (Hard Feelings/Loveless)

“You asked if I was feeling it, I'm psycho high know you won't remember in the morning when I speak my mind” (Sober II (Melodrama))

“Lights are on and they've gone home, but who am I? Oh, how fast the evening passes cleaning up the champagne glasses” (Sober II (Melodrama))

“And the terror and the horror, God, I wonder why we bother” (Sober II (Melodrama))

“We told you this was melodrama, you wanted something that we offer” (Sober II (Melodrama))

“Break the news—you're walking out to be a good man for someone else, sorry I was never good like you” (Writer In the Dark)

“Slow like pseudo-ephedrine, when you see me, will you say I've changed?” (Writer In the Dark)

“I ride the subway, read the signs I let the seasons change my mind” (Writer In the Dark)

“These ribbons wrap me up but when I reach for you there's just a supercut” (Supercut)

“I'll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush” (Supercut)

“Because ours are the moments I play in the dark, we were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart” (Supercut)

“In my head, I do everything right” (Supercut)

“All of the things that I offer you and all of the shit that we harbour make all of the kids in the choirs sing "woo-hoo"” (Liability (Reprise))

“Maybe the tears and the highs we breathe, and maybe all this is the party, maybe we just do it violently” (Liability (Reprise))

“Every night, I live and die” (Perfect Places)

“Are you lost enough? Have another drink, get lost in us, this is how we get notorious” (Perfect Places)

“If they keep tellin' me where to go I'll blow my brains out to the radio” (Perfect Places)

“All of our heroes fading, now I can't stand to be alone” (Perfect Places)

“All the nights spent off our faces trying to find these perfect places, what the fuck are perfect places anyway?” (Perfect Places)

TRACKLIST (highlighted are the most Frankie Morales coded songs)

1. Green Light (03'54")

2. Sober (03'17")

3. Homemade Dynamite (03'09")

4. The Louvre (04'31")

5. Liability (02'51")

6. Hard Feelings/Loveless (06'07")

7. Sober II (Melodrama) (02'58")

8. Writer In The Dark (03'36")

9. Supercut (04'37")

10. Liability (Reprise) (02'16")

11. Perfect Places (03'41")

[sickly-qt]

Okay I just found your acc and I’m obsessed with drew! Do you think you could write something where she gets pretty drunk to the point of throwing up and she is so out of it she lets Finn see her? No pressure :)

wowowow, look at me, answering an ask for the first time in forever. I am trying my best lol. This is kind of important in terms of different characters becoming acquaintances but otherwise it's just shameless emeto. This also takes place a little while back when Drew and Finn had been dating for less than a year, presently they've been together for almost 2 :)

Enjoy! I'm sorry if i'm a bit rusty

~~~

Work events with an open bar always mystified Drew. She never really understood why an employer would encourage drinking to excess… or at the very least tempting their employees to drink to excess. These were the thoughts running through her mind as she picked up her glass and walked away from the bar, sipping on what must’ve been her third double vodka sprite of the night. She knew that she should probably slow down, the anxiety of being at one of Finn’s work banquets washing away with every glass of wine over dinner. Her head felt airy and conversation was coming easy and she was actually having a better time than she thought she would’ve, probably too good of a time if she were being honest. 

Drew was surprised when Finn had asked her to go with to be his plus one to his work event. Sure, they had been dating for around 7 months and they were basically living together, but things like this really cemented that they were serious in a weird way. He wanted to be seen with her in front of his coworkers as well as the new company that had just partnered with the company Finn helped run.

“Hey, Drew! Come and meet my new partner.” Finn called, grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowd. Everything went by her in a blur and made her dizzy, this is when it really settled in that she was undeniably drunk. They came to a stop in front of another surprisingly young couple. A tall blonde man who looked a little intense and a woman with reddish hair and brown eyes smiled at her kindly. Drew was just focused on seeming sober, and feeling like she was failing miserably. 

“This is my partner, Drew. Drew, this is one of the heads of the company we just partnered with, Remington Paxton and his partner Mila.” Finn introduced them all.

“Hi it’s very nice to meet you, and you can both just call me Remy.” the man responded, holding out his hand. He was almost alarmingly clean cut in the most crisp, and probably most expensive suit Drew had probably ever seen. Mila, on the other hand, seemed a lot more laid back in a simple blue tea length dress and beautiful silver heels, she looked like an auburn cinderella. 

“It’s nice to meet you both as well.” Drew said, shaking both of their hands and then promptly zoning out as Finn and Remy launched into a conversation about PR and advertising. She had a very loose idea of what Finn did at work in the first place and at this point Drew could barely wrap her mind around what she had to do the next day let alone how different PR tactics can be used to benefit marketing and advertising. 

“I never really know what he’s talking about once he gets going.” Mila said, taking a sip of her champagne. “I just smile and nod.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Drew smiled, not really in the mood to conversate. She was starting to feel woozy and a little nauseous. All of the anxiety from before her second glass of wine, rushing back. Suddenly, the elegant ballroom felt stuffy and her dress felt too constricting, and she was really warm. She heard Mila start to say something else but Drew couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, everything was spinning and she felt lightheaded. 

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry I need to get some air.” Drew mumbled, sitting her drink down on the nearest table and rushing away. She had intended to actually do exactly that but on her way to the door nausea hit her like a brick wall and she gagged harshly into her hand. Drew quickly detoured to the bathroom, grateful that the unisex bathroom was open and she wasn’t about to be sick in a stall. She had barely gotten the door locked behind her before vomit rocketed up her throat, spraying through her fingers and dripping down her arm. She barely had any time to throw the toilet seat up before she gagged again, her dinner coming up in violent waves.

She steadied herself on the back of the toilet, her other hand gripping her stomach and she took a couple breaths. A knock at the door caused her to jump.

“Drew, it’s me. Are you alright?” It was Finn. 

Drew swallowed and flushed the toilet, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. She was a complete mess, vomit in her hair and down the front of her dress. The sight made her gag again. What was worse was the trail of sick across the floor and on the back of the toilet. “Fuck.” She whispered before unlocking the door and letting Finn in.

“Oh fuck.” Finn mumbled, seeing the state of his girlfriend and the bathroom.

“I’m so sorry.” Drew sniffled, drunk and emotional. 

“It’s okay babe. Uhm… let’s get you cleaned up a little and then we can let an attendant know that someone got sick in the bathroom and then we can go home, okay?” Finn had grabbed some toilet paper and started cleaning the puke out of her hair.

“I’m gonna throw up again.” Drew whined, feeling sick and now embarrassed. She covered her mouth with her hand before bending over the toilet again and gagging.

“Okay, okay. Just get it out.” Finn stood behind her, holding her hair out of her face and rubbing her back as all of the wine and vodka sprites came back up in a disgusting slurry. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Drew said, out of breath. She stood up straight and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths before a burp rumbled up her chest, sending her back over the toilet although nothing came up.

“Shh, no more apologizing okay?” Finn reached around her and flushed the toilet, still rubbing her back. “Are you done for now?”

“I think so.” Drew mumbled, blowing her nose with some toilet paper. “I’m sorry you had to see that, I feel so disgusting.”

“A little vomit isn’t going to scare me away, Drew. I love you, and I still love you after seeing you be a puke geyser.” He wet some toilet paper and tried his best to clean up the front of her dress.

“Thanks… I love you too…”

“Let's get you home my love.”