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ginnsbaker · 2 days

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)

Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)

The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.

You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh.

But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.

[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.

[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?

You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.

[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?

As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.

[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆

You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.

[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.

Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.

[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.

Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.

[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?

Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?

Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.

It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.

[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂

You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text.

And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.

[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.

As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter.

It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.

And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.

So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.

[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌

You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.

[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?

Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.

You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.

Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”

Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny.

Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you.

She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”

You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.

Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”

“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.

Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”

Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.

“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.

“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly.

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.

“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.

“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”

“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in.

“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.

“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”

You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”

“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”

“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just meet someone.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”

Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her.

So, she does what she does best: Pretend.

Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.

Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to.

Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.

And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.

She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.

Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.

Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.

[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.

Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.

[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.

Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?

As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.

[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️

It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.

[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.

[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊

Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.

Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him.

Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.

Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.

And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend.

The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home.

They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.

“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.

Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”

“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”

If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away.

“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.

“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly.

Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.

“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.

“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.

“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”

Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.

“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?”

Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?

Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?

But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.

“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.

“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal.

Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.

“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”

Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.

Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood:

“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”

Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.

A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?

Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.

She's with Danny now.

Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.

It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.

When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.

Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.

It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.

She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.

“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.

“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.

“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.

“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”

“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”

Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.

“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.

“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”

You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”

“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.

“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place.

You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.

“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.

Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.

Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?

And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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surielstea · 19 hours

Text

Taunts and Tension

Based on this request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel go on a spy mission and come back a little more touchy than usual?

Warnings: Sexual tension | Briefest mention of a threesome | innuendo of oral (m receiving)

2.8k words

“You have got to be kidding me,” The Shadow Singer grumbled as the High Lord told him we’ve been partnered for his next mission.

“Unfortunately, he’s not,” I huff to the tall male, just as annoyed as him. “Rhys with all due respect, I work alone,” Azriel contended and I scoff. “Does that apply to your love life too?” I quip but they both ignore me. “I know Az, but Eris likes her, he’s more likely to play by our rules if we use her as bait,” Rhys says. “It’s just a meeting, the both of you only have to get along for a few hours,” He hums and I roll my eyes, I couldn’t refuse the offer, he was paying me double for this. “Fine,” Azriel uttered, the fool agreed for free.

“Good, you leave at sunset,” The half-fae instructs then quickly dismisses the both of us when his mate comes into his office, a babbling Nyx in her arms. “Hi sweetie,” I coo at the two-year-old as I pass Feyre on the way out. “Auntie!” He exclaims with a bright smile. The High Lady waved at me and I returned it. “Be careful on your mission tonight,” She advises and I brush her off. “It’s just a meeting, nothing to be worried about.” I smile. “Oh, I wasn’t referring to your assignment,” Her eyes flick to Azriel and my lips form an ‘o’ shape in realization. She chuckled then gave me a wink as the Shadow Singer passed by me, muttering a curse under his breath. I return her smile then nod in a farewell and go the opposite direction down the hall.

The Spring Court was a lot duller than I had expected. Sure the flowers were in bloom and the sun still seeped through the trees but, there was no vibrancy to the colors. “Feyre really did a number on this place,” I hum, looking out at the deserted Court. It still held some beauty, the crystal clear lakes with lily pads floating heedlessly, the rolling hills, and flower fields.

“I kind of feel bad for him,” I mutter, bending down and plucking a daisy from a patch sprouting out the trunk of a maple tree. “Don’t,” Azriel huffed. We were on the border between Spring and Autumn so there was a weird merging between wildlife, the magnolia trees slowly shifting into maples, bunnies sectioned from foxes, and lush forests morphing into rustic woods.

“Are we early or is he just trying to make an entrance?” I sigh, already bored. “Early,” He replies and my shoulders sag. “Can you only respond with one-word answers?” I narrow my eyes on the Shadow Singer. He smirks. “No,” He says and I grit my teeth, looking down at the daisy in my hands.

We go silent for a moment. I stare out at the dusky sky, the last of the sun slipping below the hills. He seems content to continue staring at me, much to my dismay. I didn’t know what for, it’s not like he had to keep an eye on me, and there was nothing I could do that his shadows wouldn’t report back to him, they were often all over me, seemingly out of his control when I was around.

“What?” I snap my head back to him after only a minute, his stare becoming too physical, like I could feel the way his eyes traced my features. “Why are you dressed like that?” He tilts his head. I look down at my gown with creased brows. It was a silk slip, a rich mocha color. I look at what he’s wearing, his usual leathers. “It’s a meeting Azriel, we’re not battling warriors,” I remark. “Is it because we’re meeting with Eris?” He tilts his head. I cross my arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I bite back. “That you’re trying to impress him,” He surmises.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Nuh uh?” He mocks. “That’s your defense?” The brunette scoffs and my frown deepens, leaning against the tree at my back. “I wore the dress ‘cause I didn’t wanna change, okay?” I explain with narrowed brows. “And it’s not my fault he admires me,” I add. “Not that you know the feeling,” I murmur under my breath but of course, he heard it.

He takes a menacing step forward, shadows turning sporadic around him and I roll my eyes on the dramatics of it— anyone else would’ve been begging for forgiveness just by looking into the darkness of his eyes. “What was that?” His hand comes to my chin, forcing my head toward him. I jerk out of his hold with a grimace.

“I said you don’t know what it’s like to be admired, or do you need a reminder that you’ve been chasing the same girl for five hundred years?” This time I was the one to take a step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his. “Because newsflash Az, she doesn’t want you—” I start but his hands come to my wrists and pull them up above my head, pinning me to the tree, his other hand on my hip so I can’t thrash.

His nostrils flared, eyes ablaze and I nearly laughed. “You’re constantly teetering on that edge huh? Can’t ever keep your temper in check?” I arch a brow up at him, my smirk only widens as I watch him grit his teeth. He knew what I meant. Knew that he pounced on anyone who damaged his fragile ego, and talked down on his precious family, gods forbid I mention Morrigan. His hold moves from my waist to my neck, wrapping his large hand entirely around my throat, softly squeezing.

“You’re choking me,” I whisper out and the sadistic fuck has a smile on his face. “You seem like the type to be into that,” He presumes and he wouldn’t be far off if this was a different situation. I flush pink at the idea, it’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t imagined the Spymaster on top of me more than once. My cheeks were burning hot, I was beyond embarrassed, and slightly turned on.

“Not so talkative now, are we?” He was so close, so close his body was pressed to my own, our breath shared as his face hovered above mine, cauldron damn his height.

“Let me go,” I pull at my wrists but his grip is iron, and maybe my attempts were halfhearted because, in all honesty, I didn’t want to leave this position one bit. “You learn your lesson yet? Or are you gonna keep being a brat?” He hums and arousal pools in my panties. I quickly glamour the scent, praying he didn’t recognize it before I got the chance. “Fuck you,” I seethe, continuing my futile attempts to escape. “Such a filthy mouth, you wanna put it to better use?” He asks and if I wasn’t red before I definitely was now. “In your dreams,” I hiss. “Oh love, it is,” He smirks, and my brain stutters. What’d he just say?

My pointed ears perk before I can reply, noticing an unfamiliar pair of footsteps. Not Eris.

“Someone’s coming, kiss me,” I say with a rushed tone. “What?” His hand loosened around my neck. “Just—” I don’t finish and interrupt myself by lifting onto my toes and crashing my lips against his.

He seems taken aback for a moment then to my surprise, leans into it. I melt at the feeling. He was tentative at first but once I showed him this was what I asked for he seemed almost, hungry. His hand slips from my throat and cups my jaw instead, calloused thumb pulling at my bottom lip and forcing them open. I can’t help but obey his silent command, parting my lips wider so he can capture me fully. His mouth seals over mine yet again and my stomach ties into knots, the thrumming sensation in my ribcage making me realize this was a point of no return.

His tongue explored my mouth like it was his and his alone, he was devouring me and I savored every moment. An energy buzzed between us, my wrists still pinned up by his hold, but I wasn’t any less greedy with my lips. I wanted him to taste me, to memorize me, and never forget the feel of his lips on mine, I wanted it to hurt when he had to pull away. Languid movements with his tongue turn into messy, impatient strokes, needing all of me right then and there— and I would’ve given it to him if not for that pair of footsteps returning, so much closer this time.

“What’s going on here?” A gruff voice demands answers and Azriel hesitantly detaches, like he was unwilling.

It takes me a moment to even open my eyes, gods if he’s got me this paralyzed over just a kiss who knows how much more I could take? Azriel lets go of my wrists and I regain consciousness.

“I’m sorry Officer,” I put on my most innocent smile. The male in front of me was Autumn Court patrol, lower in rank based on the patches on his arms. “What’s an Illyrian doing so far from home?” He snarled the word like it was a curse. “We’re traveling sir,” I say, intertwining my hand with Azriel’s. He stiffens at the action as if I didn’t just have his lips on mine. “Travelin’?” The officer scoffs. “Out here?” He hums. “Yes sir, it’s our honeymoon,” I grin wildly, trying to capture the excitement of newlyweds as I hold our linked hands up.

The officer raises his brows a fraction, he was buying it. He was visibly older, you had to be ancient as a fae to start having wrinkles and this guy had plenty. “You know, I feel like I recognize you,” He hums and I swallow thickly. It was more likely for Azriel to get recognized out of the two of us, so the Shadow Singer didn’t take his chances and stuffed his face into my neck, lining kisses from my shoulder to my jaw. My hand goes into his hair, weaving my fingers into his soft, dark locks as I continue carrying on the conversation.

“Really? What from?” I tilt my head, resting my luck. “Not quite sure…” He thinks for a moment. “Ah, forget it probably just confusing you with my granddaughter, she’s lovely like you,” He says and I giggle light-heartedly. “That’s sweet to hear,” I smile. “Alright you kids be safe, perhaps find an inn somewhere,” He starts his trek once more. “Thank you, officer!” I call to him and he gives me a wave.

I nearly cackle as Azriel pulls away from my neck, my lipgloss smeared along his lips. I reach up and wipe it away with a teasing smile. “Not much of a spymaster if I’m the one saving you, hm?” I say, hands cupping his cheeks. “You were the one distracting me in the first place,” He defended, crossing his arms and I snicker. “Awh, poor Illyrian baby is pouting 'cause I’m better at his job,” I taunt, his gaze on my lips as I talk.

“Well, that was quite the show,” A familiar, smooth voice intones from a short distance away and I whip my head towards the figure, leaning against a tree with an unmistakable foxlike smirk on his face. “How long have you been standing there?” Azriel questions and it seems like the Heir might laugh. “It’s truly a wonder how your shadows didn’t find me, though I suppose they’re preoccupied at the moment,” He gestures to the ground beneath me where they were pooling at my feet, flicking up and twining at my ankle every now and again, completely forgetting what their job was in my presence.

The meeting went smoothly, Azriel was a bit on edge with the lack of his Shadows but other than that Eris complied easily, he seemed to have something up his sleeve but we’d worry about that at a later date, we were only ensuring his loyalty was still with us.

He updated us on some information including his father, the two males briefing over a plan to take down Beron, and as I stood there I realized I was just for show, a shiny jewel for Eris to look at, keep his attention before he got the idea that he could survive on his own. Not that I minded being looked at by the Heir, he was quite pretty— hel, I’d be lying if I said I haven’t dreamed about both the males in front of me, at once, more than once.

Azriel shadow-walked us back to the House of Wind when we were finished, or rather when he was finished. I probably could’ve stayed a few more minutes just to admire Eris in the pale moonlight, but my plans just had to be foiled by the Shadow Singer.

Az flew me the rest of the way into the house bridal style— since you couldn’t winnow straight in due to the wards. His hold on me felt more familiar than usual, and when he put me down he didn’t step away so neither did I.

“Hey,” Cassian said from the dining table, a mouthful of food muffling his voice. We both swivel towards the male, sat next to Nesta who couldn’t be bothered to look up from her book to greet us. “How’d the mission go?” The brunette at the table said once he swallowed his food. We both stiffen, the memory of that kiss has been replaying in my head over and over since it ended and yet it felt odd for anyone else to bring it up.

“Uh, went nice…” I shrug. Nesta looks up from her page, eyes piercing as they read me like the chapters in her book. “Really?” She intervenes and I nod. “Yup, just, so normal,” Azriel blurts out, and for a Spymaster, he was awfully bad at lying. Cassian creased his brows, clearly concerned for his brother. “Why are you acting so weird, then?” Nesta interrogates and the male and I share a look. “I don’t think he’s acting weird,” I scoff. “Do you think you’re acting weird?” My words are fast like I only have one breath to finish my sentence. “Pshh, never,” He shakes his head, looking down at his feet then back up to Lady Death.

“Right, well, man am I exhausted,” I stretch, feigning a yawn. “Yeah, the mission really wore me out,” He sighs, rolling his shoulders like there’s a weight off of them, following me up the stairs towards the bedrooms.

Nesta looks to her mate, a small smirk on her lips. “What?” The lord of bloodshed says cluelessly. “They’re totally going to fuck,” She hums, sinking into her chair a little and picking her book back up.

Azriel and I split off into our respective bedrooms, just across the hall from each other.

I paced beside my closed door, wondering what the fuck was I thinking when I let him kiss me. Sure I’ve always thought he was pretty but that was always a stupid fantasy, not something I would ever pursue… until now. Fuck, I am so finished. I repeatedly hit my palm against my forehead as I racked my head for any thought that didn’t immediately trace back to him. I couldn’t even look at my own hands without thinking about his hands, how they held my jaw— no. I wasn’t going to let myself romanticize this, it was just a mission. Nothing more. Just a kiss. A yearning, passion-filled kiss that fed all my cravings and somehow created new ones.

I groaned, deciding that this was the finest form of torture. I now stand still in front of my door, hoping that if I stare hard enough at it, he’ll come knocking and kiss me again because, fuck, I do want him.

I can’t sit here and wait for him to come rescue me from my own torment so I do it myself, hand coming to the doorknob and before I can psych myself out, I fling the door open.

To my shock, I’m immediately met with Azriel’s figure, his hand up like he was just about to knock.

“You couldn’t even let me make an entrance?” He tilts his head and I roll my eyes. “Shut up and kiss me already,” I grab him by the collar of his leathers and pull him in, the door closing behind him as his lips crash onto mine yet again.

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hotluncheddie · 2 days

Text

Day 4: Edging

"Bi Freak"

wc: 3.5 | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, bisexual Eddie Munson & Steve Harrington, mean dom Steve Harrington (kinda), degradation, sub top Eddie

written for @subeddieweek <3

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

‘Jesus, are you hard?’ Steve asks, incredulous at how fucking ridiculous Eddie’s cock can be at times. Even walking just behind him Steve must spot how Eddie’s hands shift to tug at his belt buckle, the way his gait is a little more awkward than usual.

Eddie freezes, readjusting again as Steve saunters past. Cheeks feeling a little hot over being caught. He was Subtle, or so he thought, but his jeans must just not be tight enough to hide his boner.

They're walking back to the beamer after eating at the diner in town. A few familiar faces around since its summer. The two of them included, back over from Indi for a visit to see Wayne for his birthday.

Unfortunately, seeing Wayne means staying with Wayne and while that is wonderful, the walls of the trailer are still, absolutely, the width of paper mache. So, Steve had decided the concept of sex was much too mortifying in those conditions. A different consensus from when they first got together, Eddie had pointed out. But, Steve had just laughed and kissed him, in that condescending way that just made the whole situation so so much harder, figuratively and literally.

Its been a week, basically, and Eddie’s getting desperate, and Steve is getting mean.

Eddie jogs to catch up to Steve's long strides. ‘Did you see her though? Christ Steve she, she's a vision. A fucking goddess dude.’

‘I saw I saw.’ Steve shoves his hands in his jacket, Eddie looming in close at his side.

‘Like she was something then, but now? Bigger and better, did you see? You saw them right?’ Eddie moves his arms around, cups his hands, clenches his fingers. A horny interpretive dance.

Steve sighs, faux wistfully. ‘Every day I almost forget how much of a tits guy you are, and everyday you just gotta remind me, huh? Munson? What's up with that?’ Steve jabs his elbow into Eddie’s side. Grins at the cackle it elicits.

‘You know I fundamentally disagree with that question, Stevie. No one should be subjected to a choice like that.’ Eddie laughs, swooping in close to Steve's neck for a moment, in that way he loves. Steve’s elbow coming out to make him back away.

Steve pulls his keys out of his pocket, the car coming into view, parked in the furthest corner.

‘Your tits are amazing by the way.’

Steve laughs again. ‘Thanks dude, I know. Lucky for you my ego is big enough to handle your crazy libido.’

Eddie grumbles, kicking at a can. ‘Only crazy because of the damn “no touching” rule you set.’

‘Aww’ Steve coos, ‘baby cant handle a little teasing anymore?’ He smirks at Eddie, unlocking the car but not opening the door, instead watching Eddie slump over, pouting.

Steve stalks around to the passenger side, opening the door for him and pulling his arm, shoving Eddie down onto the seat with a hand on his head.

Eddie whimpers, feels pre-cum leak out of his tip and soak into his boxers. Fuck, he’s hard - worse now. Steve’s not let him have more than a peck, more than a nighttime spoon, for days.

‘Wanna know a secret?’ Steve asks.

Eddie’s slumped on the passenger seat, feet still on concrete. He rubs his hands over his burning cheeks and peeks up at the sunshine being blocked from above. Steve leaning a forearm in the car hood, looming over Eddie, caging him in.

Steve steps right up into Eddie space, shoving his knee onto the seat right between Eddies thighs. crushing his cock. Steve leans in even closer, breath ghosting over Eddie's ear, making him shiver.

‘I know how she tastes.’

Eddie feels like all his air gets gut punched out of him, feels his fucking pupils dilate so much his vision goes blurry. He makes a strangled sort of moan. His boxers flooding with cum.

‘…Did? Did you just?’

Eddies panting so hard all he can really do is nod his head.

‘You’re so pretty.’ He slurs, staring up at Steve, haloed and lovely and how did Eddie get so lucky?

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, but he smiles down at him, strokes his cheek and looks at him with eyes full of stars. ‘You can go again through right?’ He asks.

Eddie beams. ‘Fuck yeah!’

Steve laughs, shaking his head. He closes Eddie’s door and gets behind the wheel. Puts on his sunglasses and lays his hand on Eddie’s thigh. ‘No touching while I’m driving. Let's go break into my parents house.’

Eddie leans back in the headrest, grinning. ‘By break in, do you mean use the spare key?’

‘Sure do baby. They won't even be there.’ Steve says, and pulls out of the diner parking lot.

Back at Steves Eddie sprawls out in his bedroom, familiar in its ugliness but the mattress has always been to die for.

Eddie listens to the sound of Steve moving through the house, not sure what he’s doing. But they’ve fallen into routines like this before, Eddie waiting upstairs while Steve did whatever it was that made a big empty house like this run smooth. He works the same magic on their apartment; structuring Eddie enough to not get overwhelmed by chores and eventually listening to Eddie’s please to not do it all himself. Steve could work himself to the bone and still ask if Eddie needed a glass of water. But now they have a chart, and Eddie’s always had a knack for laundry.

But, at times like these, brain directly attached to his dick and almost nowhere else, Eddie wants to be directed.He wants Steve to do exactly as much as he wants, do so exactly as he pleases, Eddie almost an afterthought.

Yeah, Eddie wants that. He shivers, hears Steves footsteps on the staircase.

‘Unzip your jeans but don’t take them off.’ Steve says, coming into the room, searching for something.

Eddie complies quickly, standing. Steve walks out of the room.

Steve walks back in with his shirt off. Looking Eddie up and down, face blank.

He lifts the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt and shoves it in his mouth, saliva soaking the fabric between his teeth, cool air hitting his exposed nipples. ‘Show me.’ Steve says, calm and neutral, like Eddie is his doll to play with.

He pulls at the waistband of his boxers and his eyes burn as he watches Steve. Refusing to blink, refusing to miss the look on his face once he sees the mess.

Steve’s eyes roam Eddie’s face for a moment, steely and almost cold. He looks down, raises his eyebrows. Eddie feels his cock twitch at the attention, at the judgment.

Steve looks back up. ‘Look at it.’ And Eddie glances down, breath hitching at the sight of his cock covered in his own cum, some of it starting to crust but the tip still shiny and wet, leaning against the sodden fabric of his boxers.

Eddie looks back up at Steve, sees that he watched his whole reaction. Pupils blown wide and Steve's hand has migrated up to tweak at his own nipple. Jealousy burns in Eddie’s gut; that he’s not allowed to touch Steve like that, not yet.

Eddie whimpers again, he wants to kiss him, wants to eat him.

‘Fuck’ Steve murmurs, like he can read Eddie’s mind. Maybe he can, or it’s just how good Steve has gotten at reading Eddie’s face.

‘Colour?’ Steve asks.

‘Super fuckin’ green.’ Eddie says around the fabric, grinning, watching Steves smile bloom right back

‘Good’ Steve pecs his top lip. Eddie surging forward, chasing, letting the wet hem fall.

Steve stops him with a finger on his chest. His expression smoothing back into one of mild disgust. ‘So needy.’ Steve drawls. ‘Take off everything but your boxers.’ And he’s gone again, leaving Eddie to struggle out of his clothes in a rush.

Steve walks back in, now only in his boxers too, Eddie can see the outline of his cock through the material and it makes his mouth water. It takes him a second to register that Steve’s holding the Polaroid camera now too.

‘Show me, like you did before.’ Steve says, fiddling with the camera, waiting.

Eddie does as he’s told and he feels goosebumps dabble over his skin, heat rushing south so fast it makes his nipples hard.

Steve takes a photo of eddies cock covered in his own, slightly crusted, cum. The flash taking Eddie’s breath away.

But Steve just leaves again, without a word. Eddie stands stock still and hears the shower turn on, the faint sound of the camera again.

Steve comes back in flapping the polaroids. He sets the camera down and walks back over to Eddie, handing him a damp wash cloth.

‘Clean yourself off.’ He says, leaning on one hip, looking board. ‘And fold your clothes on the desk, boxers on top, they need washing.’ Eyes flashing to Eddie’s, bitchy and judgmental. Eddie moans, even more heat rushing south, his gut churning.

But Eddie does as he’s told, ignoring the heat between his thighs, Steve’s eyes on him as he settles the clothes in a neat pile. ‘Good. Now grab a pillow and kneel down. You’re gonna watch my photos develop while I shower. That sound okay?’ He asks, condensing, but the question is laced with sweetness, infused with the knowledge that Steve knows Eddie loves him like this, loves being talked to like this. But he can end it any time. Any time either of them want.

Eddie just nods, bites his lip, turning to the bed to grab a pillow and situate himself on the floor.

Steve bends and lays the photos in front of where Eddie’s kneeled. Then strokes his cheek with a thumb, making Eddie preen, blinking his eyes closed slowly.

The crack of the slap registers after the feeling, Eddie’s head turned slightly to the side. Low moan distant to his own ears.

He blinks his eyes back open, looking up at Steve’s and his pretty face. He thinks there must be spit sliding down his chin, because Steve’s thumb comes to wipe something away, dipping into Eddie’s parted lips gently, for a moment.

And then Steve turns swiftly for the door, stopping just at the threshold. Eddie eyes snapping back up from where they were looking at his ass and Steve’s stifles a smile. Eddie’s own growing slow and dopey on his face.

‘You can touch, I want you hard once I’m back. But if you cum again I’m not doing anything with you for a week.’ He says and Eddie blinks at him. Nodding as the words filter through his brain.

He closes his eyes once Steve leaves and the water turns on. Lets his fingers dance towards his cock, cheek hot and tight and he moves it at the same time he wraps around himself, shoulders hunching around another guttural moan.

Then he remembers the photos.

He looks down and laying in front of his bent knees there’s two polaroids. The one of Eddie is almost fully developed, his dark thatch of hair speckled with globs of his own cum, white in contrast and just as noticeable in half crusted patches over the pink flush of his cock. It’s a mess.

Eddie works himself at the sight, getting to full hardness with a strangled gasp. Remembering Steve eyeing it, remembering what he’d said that caused Eddie to finish so quick.

The other is still only half developed. But the photos edges are rendering sections of the familiar Harrington bathroom, white tiles and blue walls, shower curtain and the edge of the large ornate mirror. Tan skin starts to become clear, Steve’s big hand holding the camera aloft, taking his own photo using the mirrors reflection, the back of his head.

Eddie’s hand speeds up and he watches, wide eyed, as Steve’s broad shoulders come into view, the arch and strong length of his back. Eddie bites his lip again, harder, as Steve’s back ends in his bare ass perched on the counter.

The dark ring of a plug just visible between his cheeks.

Eddie strangles a cry, gripping himself hard at the base, stifling his orgasm and feeling tears spring at his eyes. Steve’s must’ve been wearing that all through their time at the diner, all through the day. Stretched and wet and Eddie clenches his thighs together, covers his mouth with his palm and squeezes his eyes shut.

‘Fuck. Fuck!’ He mumbles behind his hand, breathing shakily through his nose. Steve is something else.

Finally the shower shuts off and Steve returns. Eddie still kneeling, panting heavily, cock hard and leaking between his thighs. Still coming down from the brink. Steve just smirks at him, running a towel through his hair.

He lays down on the bed, settling against the headboard. He trails his fingers over himself, tracing his nipple and stomach before giving his cock a few tugs, getting it hard.

Eddie watches the whole thing, hands still gripping his thighs.

Eventually Steve’s eyes slide open, that little smirk on his face. He opens his arms for Eddie, motioning him in.

Eddie scrambles up and into them, kissing and sucking at Steve’s neck and shoulders. Cock already grinding desperately between Steve’s damp cheeks.

‘You liked the pictures baby?’ Steve whispers, smile in his voice, mouth hot on Eddie’s ear.

Eddie shivers and pulls back, disbelief on his face. ‘I can’t believe you.’ He gushes.

Steve smiles at him and his cheeks are flush from the shower, his damp hair is falling into his forehead. ‘Fuck, you’re so pretty.’ Eddie says, always always amazed by Steve. He needs him, wants to be inside.

He grinds again, catching Steve’s hole, relishing in Steve’s eyes rolling slightly. ‘Get me wet first.’ Steve demands pulling at Eddie’s hair, shoving his head away.

Eddie bites his lip, cock twitching, he pulls at Steve’s thighs, bending him in half. Dips low to lick a long wet stripe across his ass. Tongue pressing at Steves hole, breaching the already stretched muscle and fucking his tongue in until there’s spit sliding down Steve’s crack.

Eventually Steve pulls Eddie off by his hair, chest all flushed and nipples hard.

Reaching over Steve gets the condom and lube from his bedside table. He doesn’t live here anymore, hasn’t for years. But the remnants of their sneaking around before Steve up and left with Eddie and Robin are still there. He never completely fell out with his parents, but he didn’t really tell them where he was going either. They continue to essentially ignore Steve and Steve continues to sneak into their house whenever he’s in Hawkins and fuck his boyfriend in whichever room he pleases. It’s not ideal, but it works.

‘Gonna show me what that useless cock can do?’ Steve goads, sitting up to roll the condom onto Eddie and slicking him with lube.

Eddie whines.

He hitches Steve’s thighs up, forcing him Back flat, hands beneath his knees. Steve sighs into the touch and Eddie watches his length get slowly swallowed by Steve’s tight, wet heat.

Eddie bottoms out, watching his length disappear. He feels his balls draw up, ears ringing and he’s so close. He’s so close.

The slap makes him stutter, eye wide as he stare at Steve. ‘Do not cum.’ Steve seethes, finger in eddies face, like he’s a misbehaving child. Eddie moans, gripping Steves thighs to hold himself still, breathing deeply through his nose to stave off his orgasm.

He stays buried in Steve, willing himself back down. Panting, he feels tears prickle at his eyes again. ‘That’s it.’ Steve soothes, hand coming up to stroke over the red mark he left on Eddie’s face.

Eddie breaths, eyes closed, feels the tendrils in his gut uncoil slightly. No longer right on the brink.

Eventually he opens them, Steve’s eyes on him. Eddie leans down, hands either side of Steve’s face. He starts moving his hips again, building a steady pace.

‘You should’ve touched yourself in front of her today.’ Steve says, looking up at Eddie with that closed off look again, haughty and judgmental. Eddie moans. ‘What do you think she would’ve done? If you got your stupid needy cock out in the diner, you think she would’ve laughed?’ Steve asks, voice mean and even, the only sign of arousal the flutter of his eyelashes as Eddie thrusts especially deep.

‘Fuck Steve.’ Eddie pants, thinking about it. ‘I used to think about that while you were at Scoops’ He admits, eyes watching Steve, watching his smirk broaden.

‘Yeah? You would’ve got your big dumb cock out on the counter for me while I scooped ice cream?’

Eddie’s hips stutter, he’s getting close again. ‘Yeah, used, u-used to go jack off in the bathrooms after seeing you at that mall. In that outfit. Fuck Steve, wanted you so bad.’ Eddie whines.

Steve coos, finger trailing up Eddie’s sweaty neck. ‘Who knew the freak would be so needy’

Eddie whimpers feeling a blush spread down his chest. He moves his hips faster, wanting to get in deeper.

Steve cracks, moaning. ‘Fuck, make me cum baby, get me there.’ Steve says, gripping his own cock now. Other hand holding him in place with the headboard. Eddie going faster, deeper, grazing that spot he knows so well inside Steve.

Steve throws his head back, releasing all over himself with a shout, soft hair splayed across the pillow and cheeks flushed pink. Eddie slows, grinding. He’s so close again, so achingly hard he can feel his pre dripping out, filling the condom.

‘I think I would’ve let you. Maybe Played with your cock while I worked.’ Steve pants. ‘But only if you cleaned up after yourself.’ And he scoops up some of the cum from his stomach and chest, feeding it into Eddie’s slack mouth.

Eddie sucks, swallowing and tasting salt, flooding his mouth with saliva, some slipping out down his chin. ‘’Teve.’ He pleads, garbled. Begging for permission. His eyes wide and wet, hips unable to stop.

‘You wanna cum baby?’ Steve asks, holding Eddie’s jaw with his spit slick fingers, fucking his own hips down onto Eddie’s cock.

Eddie nods, whining, digging his fingers into the sheets, trying not to think about what will happen if he comes too soon.

‘What are you baby? Are you my little freak, my little perv?’ Steve teases.

Eddie shivers, nodding, his whole body shaking in an attempt to stave off his orgasm. Shame writhing filthily in his gut, threatening to spill.

Steve pulls Eddie closer, kissing his cheek and letting him burrow his face in Steve’s neck. Eddie licks over his moles, wants to mark him, burrow his cock inside and never leave. ‘Thats it, my dumb thing, fucking me so good.’ Steve pets over Eddie’s hair as his hips speed up, thrusting into Steve harder, the sounds of skin slapping echoing through the house.

‘Cum for me.’ Steve whispers, hot breath sending shivers down his back. Eddie’s rhythm turning sloppy and desperate as he thrusts deep one last time. Cumming and crying out into Steve’s neck, tears slipping onto Steve’s skin and Eddie clenches his teeth so hard his jaw cracks.

He cums for so long he’s almost numb, shaky and boneless as he falls on top of Steve.

Steve holds him close, threading his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty hair and whispering praise in his ear.

Eventually Eddie moves slightly from on top of Steve, letting his softening cock slip out and his head rest on Steve’s chest. Listening to his heart beat. ‘Good boy, you’re my good boy Eddie.’ Steve says softly, threading his fingers into Eddie’s curls to massage his scalp.

Eddie groans, boneless and satiated. ‘Was I too mean?’ Steve asks from above him.

‘Fuck no. Made me cum my whole brain out.’ Eddie slurs, pressing his forehead between Steve’s hairy pecs.

Steve tsks him, tugging at Eddie’s hair. The sharp pain making Eddie hiss and he sucks one of Steve’s nipples into his mouth, clamping down on top of him so he can’t wriggle away.

‘Okay, okay! Quit it, you monster.’ Steve laughs, shoving Eddie’s face off.

Eddie sits back in his heels, laughing, finally taking the condom off and tossing it onto the floor. ‘You want another shower before we head back to Wayne’s?’ He asks, petting distractedly at Steve’s pink hole, still shiny with lube.

‘Ye just gimme a sec.’ Steve says, stretching, making Eddie’s fingertip slip inside. ‘And quit playing with that, what are you, a perv?’ He asks, smirking up at him.

Eddie grins, lunging back on top of Steve and biting his shoulder.

Steve yelps and Eddie scoops him up, carrying him bridal style to the bathroom.

‘Oh! Stevie, remind me to put those polaroids in my wallet. I think I’ll get a lot of use out of ‘em.’ Eddie says, dumping Steve on the closed toilet and turning the shower on.

📸 📸 📸 📸 📸

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#longer one today #the doc for this used to be called 'bi freak wet and needy'#so had to keep the history #its finally done omg this has been on the back burner for SO long #i hope u enjoy 🥺#hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #my fic #<3

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suddencolds · 2 days

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Atypical Occurrence [1/?]

Happy birthday to my dear friend, @caughtintherain!! I wanted to give you some Vincent suffering to chew on for the occasion, so please take this fic (or, first part of a fic) as a gift <3

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! chronologically, this fic takes place a month or so after the last installment leaves off :)

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit)

—

Vincent is late.

Yves tries not to stare at the empty seat across from him. The meeting—their first meeting of the day—started five minutes ago. If there’s anything Yves knows, it’s that Vincent always comes in early.

In stumbles Cara, handling a morning coffee with probably more espresso shots than anyone should have at 8am. Then Laurent, briefcase in one hand, paging through a folder of files in his other. Then Angelie, Isaac, Garrett, Ray, Sienna. Then they get started, and Yves turns his attention towards the graphs projected onscreen at the front of the room, and tries very hard not to think about Vincent.

It’s five minutes later that the door swings open, near-silent.

Sienna—who’s presenting—stops, for a moment, to look back at Vincent from where he’s standing in the doorway, which means that of course, everyone looks.

Cara turns around in her seat, raising an eyebrow. Angelie frowns at him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Vincent says, quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Isaac shrugs. Angelie looks a little concerned, but she turns back to her work, anyways. Sienna resumes her presentation. All in all, it’s nothing—or it should be nothing. Probably traffic, on the way here; a particularly unlucky commute. An unlikely occurrence, but—to anyone else—not anything worth dwelling over.

It might be a sufficient explanation, if Yves didn’t know better.

Vincent takes care to close the door quietly behind him, then heads over to the only open seat, across from Yves. He unzips his briefcase, quietly, unobtrusively, and takes out his laptop. Yves tries to focus on what Sienna is saying—she’s giving a review of a client’s current investment strategies; he’d reviewed her work on this just a couple days ago.

Vincent asks good questions throughout—he always has a good sense of what areas still lack clarity, Yves has found. Today is no exception. He takes part in the meeting with such calculated precision that Yves almost misses it.

Almost misses: the slight stiffness to his shoulders, as if it’s taking more than the usual amount of effort to keep himself upright. The way in which he clears his throat before speaking, like it might actually hurt. The way he rests his head on one hand, halfway into the meeting—as if even now, barely forty minutes into the workday, he’s already exhausted.

It’s subtle enough to go unnoticed, subtle enough that Yves wonders if he’s just reading too much into it—if, perhaps, Vincent is fine, after all.

—

He doesn’t see Vincent again until lunch.

Or, more accurately, he doesn’t see Vincent again until he’s headed down for lunch with Cara and Laurent. Vincent is already on his way out of the cafeteria, a takeout container in hand.

“You’re not going to eat here?” Yves asks.

Vincent doesn’t look at him. “I have some work to get done at my desk,” he says. He clears his throat again, like it’s irritating him.

“Okay,” Yves says. Vincent turns to leave, and Yves thinks of a hundred ways in which he could possibly prolong this conversation, and then decides against it. Vincent is already so busy.

“You look tired,” he settles on, instead.

He expects Vincent to dismiss this, to reassure him that it isn’t true. But Vincent looks up at him at last, blinking, as if he’s surprised that Yves noticed at all. His eyes are a little dark-rimmed underneath his glasses.

He doesn’t deny it, which is as much of a confirmation as Yves needs.

“The sooner I can get this work done, the sooner I can go home,” he says. Yves supposes he can’t argue with that.

“I guess I’ll see you around, then,” Yves says, even though he wants to say more, even though he feels like there’s more that he should be saying. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent nods, at this, and resumes walking.

—

Yves is probably overthinking it. There isn’t anything concrete, really, to justify his concern.

Vincent’s lateness to the meeting could just as easily be the consequence of an alarm he’d forgotten to set, his exhaustion just as easily a side effect—of recent late nights in the office, of arbitrary changes to the projects he’s on, of last-minute demands from clients.

The next time he sees Vincent is at the end of the work day. Yves always takes the elevators on the north end of the building—they’re ones that lead directly out into the parking garage. When he gets out to the hallway, Vincent is already standing there, waiting for the elevator.

Yves watches Vincent stiffen, slightly. Watches him raise one hand up to his face to shudder into it with a harsh, “HHihH’iKKTSh-hUH!”

A thin tremor runs through the line of his shoulders, as if he’s too cold, even though the office air conditioning is no colder than usual. His hand, cupped to his face, remains there for a moment more before he lowers it.

He sniffles, then, rummaging through his pocket for—something. When he doesn’t find it, he just frowns a little, sniffling again.

“Bless you,” Yves says.

“Yves,” Vincent says, his shoulders stiffening a little. He clears his throat, turning around so that he can address Yves properly.

It’s only a few seconds later that he’s turning sharply away, tenting both hands over his nose and mouth for—

“Hh-! hHiH—HIHh’DZSSschh-uhh! snf-!”

“Bless you again.”

Vincent sighs. “Don’t bother.” He really looks exhausted, Yves realizes. During their brief interaction at lunch, he’d already sensed as much, but the harsh white glare of the bright corporate lighting only makes it more evident.

Vincent looks a little paler than usual, if only slightly, and there’s a slight flush that spreads itself over his cheekbones. He looks—well, nearly as put together as always, distilled only by the slight crookedness of his tie, as if it’s been on too tight; the near-invisible sheen of sweat over his forehead. The slight redness to the bridge of his nose, the slight shiver to his hand as he reaches up to adjust his collar.

Yves frowns, taking this all in. “You look kind of…”

“Terrible?” Vincent finishes for him.

Yves winces. “...Well, terrible is a strong word. I was going to say, you look like you could use some sleep.”

“I’m… feeling a little off,” Vincent says, staring straight ahead, as if it’s not an admission at all. But Yves suspects, from the way he avoids eye contact, that perhaps it was something he was intending on keeping private. “You should keep your distance.”

The elevator dings. The sliding doors part, and he steps inside.

“First floor?” Yves asks, hesitating next to the panel of buttons.

“Yes,” Vincent says. Then, quietly: “Thanks.”

“You know, now that busy season is over, the world is not going to end if you take a sick day,” Yves tells him. “Even if you do like, twice the amount of work as everyone else on the team, if you needed to call out, I’m sure something could be arranged.”

Vincent smiles at him, a little wryly. “I must look pretty bad if you’re saying this to me.”

“Yes, I was lying,” Yves says. “Clearly, you look terrible.”

It isn’t true at all—even here, even like this, Vincent doesn’t look terrible, not even in the least. But Vincent still smiles, at this—a tired smile.

The elevator doors slide open.

“Text me if you need anything,” Yves says, impulsively. “Seriously. Tissues, soup, medicine—whatever. It’s not far of a drive.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Vincent says. “I will see you tomorrow.” And then he steps out of the elevator, and Yves is left with an inexplicable sinking feeling in his stomach. As far as he knows, it has no place there. Obviously, Vincent can take care of himself. Obviously, Vincent can handle a cold. Yves has nothing to be concerned about.

—

The next day is rainy—a constant, torrential downpour, which makes his commute to work take almost twice as long as it usually does. It wouldn’t be spring here, Yves supposes, without dreary weather like this.

Back in uni, when he rowed crew, they’d practice out for hours out in the rain. Now that he spends the majority of his day inside, he supposes he can’t complain. The shelter of the office building is a reprieve.

Vincent doesn’t show up.

“I think he’s out sick,” Cara says, when Yves asks. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I’ve actually seen him take a sick day before.”

“For how hard he works, he definitely deserves one,” Garrett says.

“He seemed fine yesterday, when I saw him,” Cara says, with a shrug. “Probably came on quickly.” Yves nods.

But that isn’t quite right, is it? Vincent hadn’t seemed fine, had he? Yves thinks back to the things he’d noticed—Vincent, uncharacteristically exhausted during the meeting, though it was clear he’d been just as engaged as usual. Vincent, shivering in the elevator, telling Yves to keep his distance. How poorly had he been feeling already, yesterday? How poorly does he have to be feeling today to have called off of work for it?

He finds some time just before lunch to text.

Y: how are you holding up? Y: yesterday’s offer stands if you need me to bring you anything!

He doesn’t get a response from Vincent, which is a little concerning. He checks his phone halfway through lunch, and then twice more, in between his afternoon meetings, just in case he’s missed a notification.

“Are you expecting a text from someone?” Cara says, looking a little curious.

“Just a friend,” Yves says, which is and isn’t true.

To make a point—to Cara, and possibly to himself—he shuts his phone off. He very pointedly does not look at it again for the remainder of the hour.

It’s not until mid-afternoon that he finally gets a response.

V: Sorry to get back to you so late.

Yves sits upright, fumbling with his phone to get it unlocked. The text bubble pops up again, somewhat intermittently, to show that Vincent is typing.

V: If it’s not too much trouble, there’s a blue folder on my desk labeled 2-A.

Yves blinks at this, a little disbelieving.

Y: you’re asking me to bring you work files? Y: arent you supposed to be resting 🤨 Y: paid sick leave, remember? as in, leave your work at work??

V: I meant to pack them yesterday.

Y: that’s like a genie grants you 3 wishes and you ask for an extra day of assignments Y: terrible waste of a wish if you ask me

V: As a genie, you’re quite judgmental

Y: ok ok Y: as your loyal lamp dweller i’ll be over around 8pm with folder 2-A Y: you need anything else?

V: Nothing else V: You can just leave them outside my door

A beat. Then Vincent sends:

V: Sorry to trouble you

Yves thinks of twenty responses he wants to send to that text. Then, thinking better of himself, he shuts his phone off and gets back to work.

—

It’s a little past seven when he finally checks out of the office.

Outside, the rain hasn’t even begun to let up—it falls, straight and heavy, in large, globular droplets. The streets gleam with water. Yves leaves his umbrella in the trunk, tunes out everything but the static of the rainfall, and drives.

Yves has only ever been to Vincent’s apartment once—to pick him up for the New Years’ party Margot hosted—and even then, Vincent had met him at the door. But he recognizes the unit, nonetheless.

For a moment, he considers leaving the folder of files outside of Vincent’s door and taking his leave.

But it’s windy, and he’s afraid the papers might fly away, torn up by the biting wind, and get lost face down in a puddle somewhere, which would defeat the purpose of him coming here in the first place, and would probably also breach some employee confidentiality policy. So instead, he knocks.

It’s silent for a moment. Rain beats down on the slanted rooftops, a constant thrum.

Yves is about to reach out to knock again, when the door swings open.

There stands Vincent, in a pale blue hoodie and loose-fitting pajama pants, with neat rectangular cuffs.

He looks tired. It’s the first thing Yves registers—the unusual fatigue to his expression, which he can’t quite seem to blink away; the flush high on his cheekbones. The way he holds himself, his shoulders stiff, carefully, defensively; as if despite his exhaustion, there’s a part of him which wishes to appear presentable still.

It’s only a moment later that he’s taking a halting step back, ducking into a hoodie sleeve. Yves catches the shiver of his expression, his eyebrows pulling together, before it crumples, and his head jerks forward with a harsh—

“hHihh’GKkTT—! Hh-!! iHH-’DZZSCHh-uuUh!”

The second sneeze sounds louder and harsher than usual, even muffled into the fabric of his sleeve. It betrays his congestion all at once.

“Bless you,” Yves says.

Vincent emerges, sniffling a little. When he speaks, he sounds a little hoarser than he did yesterday. “I thought I said you - snf-! - could leave them on the front step.”

“You did,” Yves says, glancing down at the folder in his hands. “But it’s windy, and it’s raining. I figured you’d prefer to have your files intact. How are you feeling?”

Vincent blinks at him. He’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, Yves realizes, one hand gripped tightly around the frame, his knuckles white from the pressure, as if it would take him too much effort to stay upright otherwise.

“Alright,” he answers. “Thanks for making the trip here. I… it must’ve taken longer, in the rain.” He squeezes his eyes shut, as if his head hurts, as if the light coming from outside is exacerbating his headache. “If you ever need me to pick something up for you, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Yves says. Despite himself, he reaches up to press his hand against Vincent’s forehead.

The heat under his fingertips is alarming, to say the least. Yves blinks, lowering his hand, and tries to keep the worry out of his voice. “Have you taken your temperature?”

Vincent shakes his head. “I don’t think I have a thermometer.”

“Have you eaten, then?”

Vincent averts his glance, looking sheepish. “I… was planning to stop for groceries, yesterday,” he says. Planning to.

Yves thinks back to the elevator ride yesterday. Vincent had probably already been feeling very unwell, then. And yet, he’d talked with Yves as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I’m feeling a little off, he’d said, as if anything about his current affliction could possibly be characterized as “little.” I will see you tomorrow—as if he had really, genuinely been intending on showing up at work.

“So I take it that there’s nothing in the fridge, either,” Yves says.

“If it’s any consolation, you’ll be pleased to know that I slept,” Vincent says, in lieu of answering.

Then he shivers—the sort of concerning, full-body shiver that is a little concerning, coming from someone who is usually unaffected by the cold—and Yves is immediately reminded that the door they’re speaking through is open.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Vincent says, before his expression scrunches up, and he’s ducking away with a— “hh—! hHih-II—TSSCHHh-UH! snf-!”, smothered hurriedly into the palm of his hand. He sniffles, emerging with a slight wince. “This came on pretty quickly. It might be the flu.”

“It’s fine,” Yves says. “I got my flu shot in the winter. And anyways, I’ll be careful.”

Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Then, frowning, he says, “I’d feel terrible if you caught this.”

That’s the least of Yves’s worries—he doubts he’s going to catch this. Even if he does, it will just mean a few days off of work. Not the end of the world, by any means. Nothing to warrant the expression on Vincent’s face—Vincent looks upset, as if he’ll really can’t think of anything worse than Yves catching this. Like even the thought of it is worth being upset over.

Yves shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.” He pushes past Vincent to step inside and shuts the door behind him. “Here, I’ll set these down on your desk. Where is it?”

“Down the hallway, to the left,” Vincent says.

Yves takes the folder, leaves his shoes at the door, and heads inside.

Vincent’s bedroom is small and organized—it’s the kind of bedroom that’s tastefully minimal, in the sort of unified manner that implies that everything in it has been carefully arranged. There’s a small white desk in the corner, a stack of files arranged neatly next to Vincent’s laptop, its lid halfway to shut. There’s a bookshelf, leaned up against the wall far; the bottom shelf looks to be filled with textbooks; the top shelf lined with books, both in Korean and in English. The walls are painted slate gray, the carpets lining the floorboards picked out to match, and there are pale blue curtains hanging from the windows, pulled tightly shut.

There are signs here, too, of his illness, but they are subtle. A tissue box, nestled between his pillow and the headboard, half empty. A waste bin at the foot of the bed, conveniently in reach. A small bottle of aspirin on the bedside counter; an empty packet of cough drops sitting at the edge of his nightstand.

Yves sets the folder at the end of Vincent’s desk, next to the rest of his files, and turns to face him.

“You’re not going to work on these until you’re feeling better, right?” he asks.

“Only if I can’t sleep,” Vincent says, which Yves supposes is a satisfactory answer. Then he twists away, his eyebrows furrowing, lifting a loosely clenched fist to his face to cough, and cough.

The cough is harsh and grating—his entire frame shudders with the force of it, his breaths shallow and raspy. He really sounds awful. This must have come on quickly, Yves thinks.

If it’s upsetting, seeing Vincent like this, it’s even worse to be standing here, in his room, doing nothing. So—if only to make himself useful, if only to convince himself that there’s something he can do—Yves ducks out into the kitchen.

The pantry is meticulously organized—glasses lined up in neat rows; stacks of bowls sorted by size. He fills a glass with water, shuts the cabinets, and takes it back to the bedroom.

By the time he gets back, Vincent is sitting at the edge of his bed. His glasses are folded neatly, left at the very edge of the countertop.

“Here,” Yves says, crossing the room, holding out the glass for him to take.

“Thanks,” Vincent says, taking it gingerly from him. He takes a small, tentative sip, and then another—his hands are a little shaky, Yves notices. “You - snf-! - should really go.”

“I’m not entirely convinced you’ll be fine on your own,” Yves says.

“Of course I will be,” Vincent says, with all of his usual certainty. He lays down, pulling the covers over his body. “I have been fine on my own for years.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, Yves supposes. But he doesn’t feel reassured in the least.

“Thank you again for bringing me the files,” Vincent says, at last, shutting his eyes.

“You could’ve asked me to get you groceries,” Yves says. “There’s a supermarket not far from here, right? And you’re out of cough drops.” He takes a few steps over, towards the desk in the corner of the room. “These—” He examines the bottle of ibuprofen on the table. “—are expired.”

“Just because you’ve extended this kindness to me,” Vincent tells him, “doesn’t mean I should take advantage of it.”

Yves blinks, a little taken aback. “It’s only groceries. I wouldn’t have minded, really.”

“See,” Vincent says, with a note of—something in his voice. It sounds a bit like resignation. “That’s just the kind of person you are.”

Yves doesn’t know what to say, to that.

Before he can think up a fitting response, Vincent’s breathing evens out. Yves lets himself listen to the shallow, steady cadence of it. Lets himself acknowledge the heavy, painful feeling in his chest for just a moment. Then he shuts the lights off and heads back out into the hallway.

#snz fic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz #i wanted to end somewhere more conclusive but i was falling asleep at my keyboard trying to end this so #please take this for now 🙏#my fic #it is very late rn so i am scheduling this for the middle of my work day tomorrow... now i need to run to sleep T.T #i will finish off the latter half of the house visit in the not too distant future!#yvverse #ps caughtintherain if you are reading this ily and i am so grateful to you for letting me consult you abt these two 😭😭 and i hope it's #okay for me to post this as a gift jafkhjfslk ANYWAYS pls read this at your leisure and happy birthday again!!!

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wynnyfryd · 2 days

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“Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking,” Steve says — muses, more like; fucking rolls it around on his tongue with the wasteful luxuriance of an undying man, like this isn’t the third time in half an hour that he’s worked Eddie juuuust to the brink of orgasm and then abruptly stopped touching his dick.

Fucking sadist!

FUCK!

“You’re thinking that you’re a horrible little bastard, and you’d like to let me come soon?”

or: Steve and Eddie play a sex game. written for @subeddieweek, day 4.

#steddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

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theblueblazes · 2 days

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Their asses are not working ‼️

Out of context spoilers for chapter 8 of Second Chances, I'm soooo sorry for the wait!

#transformers #tf #maccadam #tfp #kobd #knockout #breakdown #megop fic #my fic #fic #meme

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artingstarvist · 2 days

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Chapter 7 / 15 "Mistakes"

Summary: Hua Cheng makes a bad decision; Xie Lian also makes a bad decision.

Additional Tags: Coffin Rescue, Coffin AU, AU - Canon Divergence, AU - Different First Meeting, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Identity Reveal, Revenge Plot, POV Alternating, Blood and Injury, Dream-Reality Confusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Hua Cheng AND Xie Lian have Self Esteem issues, Hua Cheng & Xie Lian Invented Love, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Hua Cheng bout to make it 34 gods

Chapter 7 is up.... everything's great, nothing but fluff and rainbows from here on out!

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #tgcf fic #tgcf fanart #my art #my fic #he's fffiiiiiinnee

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evermorelore · 2 days

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A stolen glance, always filled with pining, yearning, and worst of all: understanding. Elain knew it had to be the bond that was causing this flurry of fury building in her whenever Lucien caught her eye. There was nothing else for it, she decided. After this eternal dinner, where everyone was seated next to their own mates, she was going to… do something. She just wasn’t sure what yet.

#first drabble I've written in YEARS #I dunno what this is and where it will go but here we are #my art #my fic #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #sarah j maas #acotar fanart #acotar

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tweedfeather · 3 days

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After 2+ years, my Good Omens longfic Good Expectations has finally come to an end.

Thank you to anyone who’s come along for the ride. 💕

#good omens #good omens fic #good omens art #good expectations #pregnancy #ineffable husbands #ineffable parents #my fic #my art

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smoothlikealikeasnake · 20 hours

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Strawberry Princess - Chapter Three "So Similar"

Pairing - BTS OT7 x reader, Hybrid BTS x Reader, Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader

Genre - Hybrid!AU , Hybrid BTS , Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, smut, alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - So much fluff, teasing, slightly suggestive, slightly possessive behaviour, reader anxiety , tiniest bit of angst, lmk if I missed any!

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next

New footsteps were quickly followed with a strong scent filling the room, warm mild citrus with slight leather, tobacco and whiskey underneath, Yoongis scent was always one that had all of his mates melting, his complex scent being unique and easy to find even in a room packed of people, it fit him perfectly.

With all of the scents already slightly overwhelming Y/n the strength of Yoongis’ even when he was feeling neutral was making her inner feline draw closer to the surface than she had done the entirety of the day. Yoongi quickly noticed Y/n at the sweet strawberrys emitting around the home, it only took him a moment before Jungkook introduced him. Jungkook couldn’t hold back his thoughts about confirming the resemblance in Y/n and Yoongi’s personality and behaviour and found himself wanting to push them to interact more, hoping that maybe he will see more about Y/n than he already has.

“Yoongi-ah, Y/n is staying for dinner, come sit down im sure Hobi and Tae will be on their way soon” - Jin spoke lovingly as he got up to take Yoongis coat and give him a quick kiss which Y/n couldn’t deny, made her a bit shy at witnessing.

“Ah, nice to finally meet you Y/n, I’ll go change before I sit down Jin-hyung” - Yoongi said as he began to find the Jeans and shirt he was wearing irritating, being tainted with the scent of people from outside and his customers, his nose crinkled up slightly and he moved towards his bedroom almost awkwardly, distracted by the idea to get out of the clothes.

Y/n didn’t know why she almost felt upset that he hadn’t acknowledged her more, being told she was so similar to him she felt connected, perhaps also through him being a feline hybrid too but no matter why, she couldn’t stop the slight sadness in her scent and the staring in his direction for a second too long before she quickly tried to cover it up, distracting herself with the people she already had surrounding her,

They all knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling, especially when her ears had tilted back, tail wrapping around her waist and hands rapidly kneading into the blanket she’d grown quite an attachment too since she’d been here. Her scent had gone back to its normal sweet strawberry but the others in the room knew she had purposefully tried to cover it up.

Focusing on anything possible, Y/n felt herself noticing all of the packs outfits, all seeming quite comfortable, Namjoon in a large white r-shirt and black seemingly comfortable loose trousers, Jungkook in all black, sweatshirt and joggers, Jimin and Jin had somehow managed to change without her realising, Jimin in a black hoodie that looked all too comfortable and matching joggers and Jin in a soft knit sweater and trousers. What Y/n especially noticed is she seemed incredibly overdressed, she loved her outfit but worried she stood out compared to the comfort in the room, clearly her distraction hasn’t worked the way she wanted it too because the stability of her scent wavered again at the new thoughts, slightly insecure at her outfit, one hand still kneading the blanket while the other began stroking her own tail across her waist.

Before anyone could say anything to ease Y/n’s clearly overwhelmed state, Yoongi came back in, in much closer proximity this time and the strength of all the scents in room in combination with Y/n’s thoughts had her struggling to stay still and prevent her feline counterpart from being more prominent. As Yoongi went to sit down without so much as a word, Y/n’s pupils dilated, slowly losing control at the entire situation, she quickly pulled the blanket she had been kneading and scenting all day onto her lap to be able to use both hands to knead, she hadn’t moved it before that, just moving her hand to reach it but it was clear she was struggling to hold on at her actions.

Jin shared a knowing look with the rest of the pack before standing up and tapping Namjoon and giving Yoongi a look that couldn’t quite be deciphered. It was only then that Yoongi noticed Y/n holding his blanket on her thighs, rubbing the scent glands on her wrists all over it at every movement, his own pupils dilated as his tail started to swing behind him, a combination of curiosity and pride coming over him.

“Jimin and Jungkook come help me with dinner, it’ll be about time to eat when Tae and Hobi get back” - Jin said as he directed the three out to the kitchen, leaving Namjoon indulging in his book, Yoongi who couldn’t focus on the tv and Y/n who wasn’t even trying to hide the push and pull of her hands, scent sweetening and pushing around the entire house. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, Hybrids could fall deeper into their hybrid instincts when overwhelmed in any way though it’s only ideal in comfortable situations which, Y/n realised, she was now in. She had grown comfortable in just a few hours but her worry clouding her mind prevented her from enjoying the instinctual nature she’d started to feel. Her sharp little claws coming out and canines biting into her tongue, tail wrapping tighter around her and ears frantically moving around. As concerned as Namjoon was, he knew the sole reason for this push into her state was Yoongi, he was the only one who could really make it better in that moment.

Yoongi was still watching her intensely, tail swinging as he stood up from his seat and felt pulled to sit down next to Y/n on the couch, her eyes snapping to him as he does and suddenly instead of her face, Yoongi found her drawn to something else. She followed every movement of his tail, scent booming around her as she subconsciously leant in, clearly fascinated but what amused Yoongi most is that it seemed the worry left her eyes, she wasn’t just watching, her arms slowed kneading, instead carefully positioning themselves as her pupils dilated and her own tail started to swing. What Yoongi realised is his feline qualities had left her hybrid to want to play, she was getting ready to pounce for his tail and he decided to play around a bit himself, stopping his tail before moving it swiftly into random positions.

Namjoon looked up and shook his head smiling softly as he watched Yoongi tease Y/n. She was creeping forward more and more until she finally took her shot, only getting a few inches forward and landing just before Yoongis face, stopped by his hand grabbing both of her reaching hands into his own, wrapped tight around her wrists holding them together and stopping her movement.

He took a second to acknowledge how small her hands were in his own, easily wrapping his veiny hand around both of her wrists and observing her pretty pink nail polish on her claws but what he couldn’t get over is just how tiny her claws were, it was amusing and adorable. He looked back up at her stunned and still playful expression, wide eyes looking up at him in slight shock at how he had just snatched her out of her pounce.

“Too slow kitten, best time try before I notice” - His blunt words didnt discourage her, just flustering her already playful state and she could feel herself about to purr at his endearment, wrists still trapped between his hand as her fluffy tail swings rapidly and repeatedly hit his thigh. Y/n quickly nodded with flushed cheeks when she noticed he was waiting for an answer before feeling a silky sensation on her own tail, she hadn’t even realised it was hitting his thigh until his own black tail moved her own away and the contact it had made Y/n shudder.

Y/n fell straight back onto her legs that had made their way onto the couch without her realising and settled under her, she just sat dumbfounded for a second, knees under her body cushioning her fall as Yoongi let go of her wrists, her scent glands had been pushed together for so long that the pressure had her haze from before washing over her the second he let go, body slumping and naturally getting comfortable, trying to find the best position as she grabbed the blanket again and looked away from the panther.

She found she was never quite fulfilled with her position, moving constantly to try to find the best way to sit, the blanket moving with her as she continued her kneading. Yoongi never stopped watching her from the second he let go and was nearly as entranced by her as she was by him in that moment, those flush cheeks and plump lips, soft hair and tiny hands, sweet scent and soft body she was perfect, he had never seen someone so pretty,

He couldn’t watch her struggle any more and somehow knew exactly what to do, picking up his blanket as her small hands chased it and her eyes snapped.

“You know, it’s so much better around your shoulders, so soft isn’t it?” - Y/n could only hum in agreement as Yoongis scent flooded her senses when he leaned in to wrap the blanket around her, not even clocking the insinuation that it was his blanket, just revelling in the way her body felt warm and light, finally comfortable. She couldn’t help but chase the light feeling of his hands, purring loudly and leaning into his body as soon as he pulled away.

Namjoon gave Yoongi a pointed look as to let him know he shouldn’t let Y/n get any deeper but he already knew that, he already had everything purrfectly in control, a little bit of teasing and comfort would only assure her that he liked her, his acknowledgement of her game would make her look up to him, connecting them on a level no one had experienced with her yet. He would gladly lead her deeper into that state but that would have to wait for another time, when she was ready, when they were all ready.

“How does some hot cocoa sound? It’s getting even colder” - Namjoons smooth voice danced through the air as Y/n lazily looked at him with a dazy grin and nodded at the idea excitedly. She hadn’t even felt the cold, she had since forgotten her dilemma with herself about everyone’s clothes as Yoongis warmth and blanket made her feel like she was wearing pajamas around a fire on a cold evening, the perfect balance.

Namjoon happily stood up, slowly walking to the kitchen leaving the two felines, not without noticing Y/n’s hands kneading the side of Yoongi’s thigh, happily resting against him. Yoongi couldn’t help but want to let you, that was too far for today he worried so he instead let his long tail slide around her waist and under the hem of her shirt to hold just a small bit of her skin, she hadn’t minded, relaxing even more as their combination of scents clouded the room, any of the pack who walked into it would probably be trapped in a similar haze if they stay too long. Perhaps that’s why Namjoon left Yoongi wondered, he always was one of the touchiest mates and would definitely love to be in his position in that moment.

In The Kitchen

“She’s a lot more playful than I thought she would be Kook, it’s cute” - Namjoon said, a cheeky smile on his face as everyone turned to look at him.

“I thought she was-“ - Jungkook starts

“She was, Yoongi teased her out of it to where they are now” - Namjoon spoke fondly, looking off as his mind filled with the memory over and over. His mates looked at him curiously silently asking for him to say more.

“What happened?” - Jin asked, almost worried because he knew how intense Yoongis ‘teasing’ could be. Namjoon explained how everything happened with

“She really likes him” - Jungkook spoke, almost jealous at the realisation but he knew that everyone here wanted to be in Yoongis position in that moment. Instead of dwelling on it he just sped up his chopping - the only job he had to do. He figured if he was done then he could go join a Yoongi and Y/n

“I think it’s to be with them both being feline, maybe also Yoongi being a bigger cat than her, Y/n’s hybrid might know there’s a type of hierarchy and it drew her to like him, they seem so similar already” - Namjoon spoke intelligently curious about

“We could all be in that position soon” - Jimin said with a dreamy smile, wishing it was him in that moment but willing to wait for his own, somehow knowing she would be

“Do you think Y/n will like dessert?” - Jin said, his love language was feeding and he felt a strong need to impress Y/n, he couldn’t tell why but he just knew it had to be perfect. Even without knowing her preferences he got an idea that was perfect, all he had to think about was her scent and it came to him.

Not only was this dessert perfectly suited to her, it was also simple and all of his mates would love it too, it took him a split second to begin to gather all the ingredients after asking his question.

“She’ll love it if your the one making it Hyung” - Jimin said lovingly with a quick peck on Jin’s plump lips before they smiled at eachother, Jin nodded and his idea was set in stone in his mind. Strawberry cheesecake, the perfect dessert that compliments her and her scent and will also drive the boys crazy; he had realised that not only will it be delicious but his pack are definitely all wanting to taste her sweet scent and this could be the perfect fix to that craving, for now.

“Hyung I finished, I’m going to go check on Yoongi and Y/n” - Jungkook quickly said as he practically ran to the living room without looking back, the three watched as he ran straight into the thick air of the living room, almost immediately being drawn into a haze similar to the two felines’. His movement slowed and eyes dazed as he approached the two.

Y/n instantly looked up and smiled lazily at him, stopping her kneading on Yoongis thigh to grab Jungkooks hand to try to pull him in, in doing so putting pressure on his scent gland and forcing out his fresh aroma. In her haze, Y/n couldn’t resist bringing the source closer, holding his wrist close and taking in the scent he was letting out, he couldn’t help but flush at the action before turning to look at Yoongi.

“Yoongi Hyung your hogging Y/nie” - Jungkook said accusingly, he couldn’t stop the slight slur in his words and watched as Yoongi smirked up at him, amused to find his Kookie so jealous.

“Poor Jungkookie, you’ll give him some attention, won’t you Y/n?” - Y/n gave him a happy bid before holding Jungkooks wrists more and pulling him so fast he nearly lost his footing as he landed laying down, body on the other side of Y/n with his head on her thick thighs, he immediately felt himself flush at his position especially when he realised just how soft her thighs really were, his head nearly bounced up when he landed with how full they were. Her scent encased him in this position and it sent him into a very similar haze to Y/n, her tail not helping as it moved onto his neck, pressing onto his scent gland. Yoongi didn’t help his stunned state as he moved his hands to Jungkooks silky ears, rubbing the base softly.

The situation combined had Jungkooks eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly open in bliss, turning his head in towards Y/n’s soft stomach and not realising the affectionate eyes on him.

Y/n stared down at him, butterfly’s all over as her scent was impossibly sweet, he was many things to her but in that moment, she realised he might be someone that she loves and not as a friend. While that thought scared her, she knew she should take advantage of this moment and pushed her thoughts aside to enjoy the moment, her purring the loudest noise in the room.

The three on the couch were too deep into a scent haze to hear the new voices in the kitchen, they didn’t really need too because all threes eyes shot open from their lazy position when two new feline scents flooded the room. Both of the hybrids tails immediately flickered fast as they were told to introduce themselves. Y/n felt stunned by the two infront of her, both in drastically different outfits but equally attractive. She could guess who each hybrid was by their ears.

Taehyung was dressed in a striking brown faux fur coat with his white hair combed over messily, black turtleneck and black trousers, he was intimidating and ridiculously attractive just like the rest of this pack. His blue eyes bore into hers with such intensity that she knew he could feel her intimidating and also her butterflies from the sight of him. He was clearly dressed to impress but Y/n had a feeling he dressed this extravagant every day, especially as he owned a fashion company. She could hear the low rumble in his chest but it was somehow inviting, her hybrid counterpart subconsciously creating a similar rumble in her own chest, just a much softer and higher pitch than his.

He wasn’t the only intimidating figure however, next to him was a leopard, Hoseok, dressed drastically different but equally as fitting and attractive. Baggy blue jeans with a beige top under a black hoodie and avirex leather jacket, messy dark hair with his little highlights, it all fit so well into everything she’d heard about him. He was looking at her, head slightly tilted, naturally intimidating but incredibly inviting and breathtakingly handsome, he was the first to make any move.

“ you must be Y/n ?” Hoseok beamed brightly at her as he walked forward to greet her, his beauty took her breath away and she met his kind eyes with more confidence than she had with everyone else, feeling like they’d already met from how she’d met all of their mates.

“And you must be Hoseok?” It was slightly bold of her to reply like that, out of character for her but it felt natural and Y/n could tell Hoseok was also slightly surprised but it was quickly replaced by his bright smile, shining through as he observed the scene around him, Yoongi looking at him with a knowing expression. His tail started to swing faster as the scents around him started to make his eyes flicker and dilate. He moved closer to begin rubbing at the base of Yoongis ears, his purring getting louder as he leant into the touch. y/n watched carefully as his hands moved and she didn’t know she could be so attracted to a man’s hands before realising how all of these men’s hands were absolutely beautiful and equally quite sexy to her.

Her staring was cut off but a louder grumble in the white tigers chest as he stalked towards the group, never letting Y/n cut eye contact, almost making her worry slightly until she felt Jungkook rubbing at her thigh from her lap. His striking appearance had her silent, waiting for his move before making her own.

“Jungkook hasn’t stopped talking about you since he met you, you know; I can see why” - Taehyungs voice was incredibly deep, smooth and enchanting, it had Y/n’s ears fully turned in his direction, tail moving off of Jungkooks neck much to his protest and slightly waving behind her, the fur so fluffy it brushed over Hoseok hand with every move. Taehyungs own tail was thick and breathtaking, she really wanted to catch it and it was that urge that broke their eye contact, he still watched her carefully but her attention fell to his tail, moving so elegantly behind him, her claws had suddenly appeared as she kept watching but Taehyungs deep chuckle snapped her out of it, she felt like reverting back to the shy kitty she was before but not in a bad way, he made her shy in the best way.

“It’s nice to meet you” - she let out, voice quiet and eyes wide as she looked up at him, he knew she wanted to play but also knew they’d have to wait as right on that queue, Jin came into the room.

“Dinners ready now, Tae, Hobi, go change and we will be waiting for you when you get back, come to the table everyone” - He said sweetly as everyone began to move, all around the couch quite reluctant to move out of their current space but moving nonetheless. The Three originally on the couch were still slightly dazed but a bit of food would bring them right back.

Y/n had been lead hand in hand by Jungkook to the dining room which was equally as stunning as the rest of the home, achievements decorated the walls and it had various plants and other decorations adorning every corner. The fresh breeze passed through an open window as they each gathered around the food filled table. Jungkook lead Y/n to sit between him and Jimin, the two she had known longest as Tae and Hoseok joined the rest around the large table.

Everyone settled down and drinks were poured, Y/n had a selection of water, juice and wine and chose Wine as Hoseok poured her a generous glass, she thanked him appreciatively and took a sip, everyone else had opted for wine as it was a special occasion but no one minded one bit at her choice, she was more than happy with the sweet orange juice, freshly squeezed just before dinner started, it danced on her tongue and had her tail hitting the two mates on either side of her at the delicious taste.

“I wasn’t too sure what you would like Y/n, so I hope you enjoy” - Jin said as he too settled down and announced that everyone should start to dish up. Everyone moved quickly, Y/n moved herself to try to dish her own food up but Jimin and Jungkook beat her too it, filling her plate with lots of things to try. Once everyone started to eat, Y/n did too and that first bite was truly heaven. Her eyes widened, mouth salivated, cheeks puffed up and taste buds danced to the taste of Jins cooking, a muffled hum left her as she stared at the cook with admiration. Y/n was usually quite reserved but she couldn’t hold back her spew of compliments. Jin was left blushing, red from his neck to his ears as she told him how amazing he was, it was everything he wanted and everyone agreed with her compliments, from the drink to every last dish she told him how incredible it was, she couldn’t help it, appreciation had to be shown and he bathed in glory at that.

Dinner was A complete success, everyone grew more comfortable, food was shared, compliments were flying around, laughter was in every corner and it felt like they were a family, Y/n included, she felt part of them and they felt she was part of them too, it was the thing everyone tried to deny, there wasn’t just friendship that was inevitable here, it was romance, love, laughter and eternal happiness. Harmony that makes this pack home.

The atmosphere was perfect when Jin brought out the dessert, his incredible strawberry cheesecake that had everyone watering at the mouth to get a slice, which Jin took it upon himself to cut up. He cut slice by slice and gave Y/n the largest one, praying she’d love it and by the stars in her eyes he was hopeful that she would. The smell was perfect, it was beautifully constructed with the best proportion, everything was perfect.

Jin waited, watching secretly as Y/n took her first bite, observing the boys around him quickly devouring their own slices as they ooed and ahed at the delicate dessert he had created with so much love. The widening of Y/n’s eyes, tail flicking fast into the boys besides her and ears twitching as her body relaxed gave everything Jin needed but it didn’t end there, just a few words had him melting into himself, sitting there like a lovesick little bear.

“This is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had.” - It’s all Y/n had to say to have the polar bear wanting to stand up and sweep her up in a hug but he refrained to let her eat, until every last bit was gone.

Once everyone had finished, they talked for a while, Y/n getting involved as they included her in every conversation, the most random topics and the most relevant, all of them clicked. It was late now but everyone had more than enough energy, unfortunately everyone had work in the morning so Y/n made the decision to let Jungkook know she’d call a cab.

That didn’t go down smoothly as he heavily protested and insisted on driving her home even when she tried to deny his request. She finally gave in as everyone else agreed that she had to get driven home, protective over her and not wanting anyone else to be with her but them. That lead to Jin packing up two slices of the cheesecake for Y/n to take home, sad to see her go but happy that she’ll go with something to keep thinking of him by and to enjoy. Jungkook quickly realised how cold it was and quickly ran to his room to get something for Y/n.

She felt something soft and warm touching her shoulders and looked back as Jungkook told her to hold back her arms, sliding on an incredibly oversized black hoodie that juxtaposed her overall appearance entirely but somehow fit, maybe because it was his.

“I can’t have you getting cold on the way home, you could even use it as a blanket in the car” - he rambled, confidently moving around to zip up it up and she looked at him with so much love before thanking him with a shy smile.

Each of the pack waited at the door as they were about to leave, Jimin came forward first, crashing her into a warm embrace where he rocked them back and forth and told her how they needed to all see eachother again so soon. Then came Hoseok, even if he was one of the last to meet her, he still gave her a warm hug and held her tight as he talked about how nice it was to meet her. Yoongi came in next, lightly wrapping his arms around her waist and whispering in her ear

“Practice your speed for next time kitten” teasing her before letting her go, leaving her with a laughing smile. Namjoon knew that since everyone else was hugging her, he probably could too and came in with a gentle embrace, wrapping her small body in his and rubbing her back as he said his goodbyes. The second to last was Taehyung, despite their evident tension he came forward, wrapped her up in a tighter embrace than the rest and decided to tease , wrapping his tail around one of her arms for a moment

“We can play next time kitty” - It was all Y/n needed to know he did infact like her and would like to see her again, she was excited for the next time they would all meet. Finally was Jin who handed her the box and wrapped her in his arms, sneaking in a very light kiss on the head that had her blushing and smiling brightly against his chest. When all goodbyes had ended, the two left the home and made their way to the car, Y/n holding the cheesecake box tightly but they all noticed the immediate drop in theirs chests at the separation, they just all wanted to be back together again but Y/n was covered in their scent and so was Jungkooks hoodie and the pack home was heavily scented by Y/n too.

The walk back to the car was calm, cold but Y/n was shielded from the wrath of the oncoming winter by the hoodie she knew she’d treasure for as long as Jungkook let her, they stayed hand in hand until Jungkook had to let her go for her to get into the same Mercedes from before, he waited until she was fully inside to close the door before moving round and getting in himself. After checking their seatbelts were okay he started the car and knew he had a few minutes maximum to speak to her.

“I’m sorry you had to meet them all today, I hope you didn’t feel pressured to stay” - Jungkook said as it slipped his mind how overwhelming it may have become.

“Kookie it was lovely, it may have been unexpected but your mates are so amazing and live up to everything you said about them, of course I didn’t feel pressured to stay, I just hope we could do this again soon” - The last part was mumbled as she worried about his own opinion.

“They were all telling me the same things, we will do this again sooner rather than later yeah? They all love you, Jin even sent you home with his cheesecake that says enough” - He said the last part with a slight laugh but after finishing the conversation and getting Y/n’s address he settled in to the smooth journey, letting Y/n fall asleep, cuddled into his hoodie while he listening to ‘What You Need’ by the Weeknd on a low volume, the drive was blissful, the low lights in the car and soft purrs from Y/n, his favourite songs, it was perfect.

The drive felt like it lasted a long time and Jungkook savoured every second before pulling into the car park, taking a second to take in the sleeping princess next to him, her scent thick as he pushed his own out to coat the hoodie once again, hoping it’d stay forever. He did the same thing of getting out before waking her up with pressure to her scent glands, leading her out of the car with her cheesecake and letting her guide him to her door. She leant her head on his shoulder on the ride up the elevator, heart beating steadily and relaxing into him as she was still tired, he was disappointed when the ride ended but walked her to her door nonetheless.

“Thank you for an amazing day Kookie, your mates are amazing and your amazing, text me okay?” - Y/n started off, shy at her final words, she looked up at him as he stared back lovingly.

“Thank you, for being so patient and such a good guest, sleep well Y/nie” - Jungkook leant down slightly to wrap his arms tightly around her waist and take the leap he’s wanted to take before, he lifted her off the ground to hold her better, even if only for a few seconds the both of them more than enjoyed it and it pulled a few giggles out of Y/n who, when placed back down, still had her arms around his neck and pulled him down to place a peck to his cheek. She smiled meekly and immediately said goodbye after, leaving into her apartment as he stood dumbfounded and held his cheek.

She’d kissed his cheek, he almost couldn’t believe it as he remained dumbfounded his whole journey home, he couldn’t stop the flustered cheeks and cheeky smile the entire ride home, even when he got back into the house, he felt like the happiest bun in the world. Of course he didn’t forget to text her as she requested and slightly tease her for the kiss as he arrived home but he had to take a moment as he walked through the door, scent beaming.

‘I think I might be in love with her’

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy again, I’ll update whenever - feel free to ask questions or request drabbles! Excuse any errors or spelling mistakes x

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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thelordofgifs · 2 days

Text

Notes on the Care of the Tormented, ed. Elrond Half-elven

Written for @silmarillionepistolary day 3!

Rating: T

Relationships: Maglor & Maedhros, Maglor & Elrond

Words: 4k

I have hesitated a long time over transcribing this old collection of documents, and having them bound together as a pamphlet; but the library at Imladris is well-understood to be the finest East of the Sea, and I do not wish to deprive it of any lore. A point of pride, perhaps. So I have had two copies made, one for our own collection and one for that of the library at Fornost Erain — for I would not have it said that the Eldar hoard their knowledge, and leave Men to labour in the dark.

The library at Amon Ereb was nothing to marvel at, but it was there, in the uneasy days of my youth, that I first came across these notes. They had been written by Maglor son of Fëanor at varying points over the course of the First Age, and were altogether a rather disorganised collection; but I found myself drawn to them the very first time I read them, for the care that had been taken in their composition, and in their preservation through defeat after defeat and flight after flight. Maglor was no healer, certainly not by the time I knew him: his hands had been bloodied too many times for that gift to have lingered, if ever he had it. But all the same, he paid great attention to the care of Maedhros his brother — there was no other Maedhros would permit to touch him, or speak to him when he had an episode.

It would have been easy to conclude that Maglor did it all on instinct, watching them. So I was struck, on first finding these notes, by how much of his practice he had documented. The sons of Fëanor were all diligent record-keepers — ironic, many would claim, considering how much lore was lost in Menegroth beneath their marauding swords, and again at the Havens of Sirion. But none of them seemed to trust to the infallible memories of the Eldar, judging by the contents of even that much-depleted library at Amon Ereb. Still at times I wondered for whom exactly Maglor had written the notes — I do not doubt that he referred to them often himself, but I could never make out whether he had had any other audience in mind. Did he imagine that Maedhros might survive him, and dwell with another? I know not.

[Keep reading on AO3]

#silmarillion #my fic #maglor #maedhros #elrond #silmarillionepistolary #the caretaker burnout fic! in which maglor is so so hinged

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hotluncheddie · 22 hours

Text

Day 5: Possessive Steve

"Rockstar"

wc: 1.7k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, blowjobs, mention of exhibitionism

written for @subeddieweek <3

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie always gets like this after a show - flighty and restless, unable to sit down. Even after a good fucking show like they had tonight. A good fucking metal fucking show.

He just can’t ever seem to wind down, to stop, to think.

He tried to fix it with whisky, but that didn’t go well. Not for anyone. He tried weed too and that works, sometimes, if he gets the timings right it can help him sleep. But mostly he just paces, while he waits. waits for the one thing he knows will help. Help him out of his head. Help him relax enough to go eat with the band, get some sleep tonight. Ready to start it all over again tomorrow.

‘Hey rockstar.’

Steve.

Steve smiles at Eddie’s from where he leans against the open doorway, arms crossed. He looks perfect like always; neat and put together and sinful in one of Eddie’s old merch designs.

He strides over, pulling Steve in and closing the door, locking it and grabbing Steve’s hand, stepping in for a kiss and just as quickly stepping out again, pulling him further into the room.

Eddie doesn’t realise he’s asking questions too close together, hands flailing, not leaving any breath for an answer. ‘Do you want a drink? Food? How was the show? Was your seat okay? Are you tired?’ Until Steve squeezes his hand and steps in real close, ghosting his mouth over Eddie’s.

‘No, no, really fucking good, yes and no stop worrying.’ Steve mumbles, stopping Eddie in his tracks, arms limp at his sides. Steve tugging them closer by Eddies belt loops.

Steve’s voice is low, soothing, playful. ‘My seat was perfect, I could see you so well. And….’ Steve leans in, hot breath against Eddie’s ear. ‘There was a couple in front of me tonight, wanna know what they were talking about?’

Eddie shivers, Steve stepping them back once, twice, Eddie’s back hitting the wall. Steve’s fingers digging into his waist. He waits for Eddie, eyeing him. ‘Please’ Eddie whispers eventually, mind finally catching up, body ready for what might be about to come.

Steve smirks, dipping in close again. ‘The girl said she wanted you as her hall pass baby, and her boyfriend said okay. Said he understood.’ Steve whispers, shoving his thigh between Eddie’s. ‘My little slut. Showing off for the crowd all night. You love it don’t you?’ Steve kisses down Eddies neck. ‘I bet a whole stadium of people would pay just to watch you, just to see you like this. You’d like that wouldn’t you?’

Eddie chokes on his spit, writhing under Steve’s hold. His cock rapidly hardening. ‘Fuck. Steve.’

‘You’re going to give me what all those fans out there were wishing for.’ Steve’s hard length is pressed against Eddie’s hip, grinding. ‘But it’s all mine isn’t it.’

‘Yeah, yeah Steve, yeah.’ Eddie’s feels on fire, head rapidly loosing space for any thoughts that aren’t Steve and the feeling of their bodies pressed flush together.

Steve laces their fingers and lifts them so Eddie’s hands are either side of his head. ‘Think you can keep these still for me?’ He asks and Eddie nods, he does, he can.

‘Good, don’t wanna mess up my hair.’ Steve winks and sinks to his knees.

The clack of his belt being undone makes Eddie blink slow and breathe deep through his nose. ‘You want me to stop just move your hands okay? But if you want to be good then keep them still.’ Steve explains as he palms eddies cock through his boxers.

Eddie’s eyes widen, he can’t look away, can never look away from Steve when he’s like this, in control and touching. Teasing and tasting and sending Eddie insane.

Steve slides his mouth all the way down, Eddie buried all the way in his throat. Steve breaths deep through his nose, nuzzles into Eddie’s pubes - said he likes it, having Eddie inside him like this, powerful.

Eddie balls his fists and wills his hips not to move, sweat beading at his temples. Eddie likes Steve like this too, feels powerless.

Steve swallows and Eddie whines, throat tired from the stage but he can’t help it when Steve is doing this, can’t help anything when he’s around Steve.

Steve pulls off and keeps working Eddie with his hand. Lips pink and glossy with spit. Eddie groans.

‘Feeling good baby?’ Steve asks, smiling up at him, watching Eddie fall apart.

He nods, arms aching from holding them up, but the ache adds to his high, helps him feel grounded and under Steve’s thumb.

Steve kissed his tip and tugs his leather pants down further, fingers dancing over his balls and towards his hole. Petting at it and pressing into Eddie’s taint, making him see stars.

‘Steve.’ Eddie whimpers, thighs shaking and tip pearling, starting to leak.

‘What?’ Steve asks, innocent. ‘You said it was mine didn’t you?’ He pouts and Eddie wants to thrash, wants to scream but he doesn’t want Steve to ever stop touching him, playing with him.

‘S’yours. S’yours, always.’ Eddie pants, eyes squeezing shut, leaning heavily on the wall to keep from keeling over.

Steve pushes his thumb roughly into Eddie’s slit, gathering the cum to slide it over his cock. Eddie’s eyes fly open. ‘Good. Eyes on me baby.’ Steve coos. ‘Now I want you to imagine all those fans are seeing you like this, who think big tough rockstar Eddie Munson could dick them down so well, I want you to show them what you really are okay baby?’ Eddie nods, frantic, not daring to move his eyes from Steve’s face, his hands. ‘Show them what a little slut you are for me, my own little play thing, can you do that baby? Cum down my throat the way all those fans would’ve killed for tonight?’

Eddie moans, tensing as Steve’s mouth envelops him again, hot and wet and tight. Bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks the way he knows Eddie loves. That sends him close, and reeling.

And he does like it. Likes having all those eyes on him, the attention and praise. Even if they don’t really know him, just think he’s hot. that’s enough. It’s why he chooses pants cut extra tight, why he slices the ends off all his t-shirts, why he lets his mascara run and never wipes the sweat from his neck. He wants the crowd to want him, look at him and hunger for him. Even though they’ll never really know him. It’s okay.

He has Steve, and Steve knows everything.

Steve’s fingers move again, teasing and pressing at Eddie’s taint, at the bundle of nerves inside him.

Eddie can’t help but move now, edging closer and closer. He thrusts forwards and rolls his hips, sinking deeper, filthy. Moves the way he does sometimes on stage, when he wants every pair of eyes on him, wants Steve’s eyes on him. Wants to be Steve’s own special rockstar, porn star. Steve’s anything.

‘Oh god.’ Eddie moans, pushing in deeper and Steve holds him there, hand on his ass, other hand still knuckling his taint. Everything impossibly warm, impossibly close. Held together by this man on his knees. Eddie bucks once as much as he can, mind flashing with the movements of the night, Steves words, the lights and noise of the crowd.

Steve squeezes and pushes and swallows and Eddie looses himself in everything. Spurting thick and hot down Steve’s throat. Chest heaving and eyes clumping with tears.

‘’Tevie’ He whimpers, as Steve pulls away and surges up, ripping open the fly of his jeans and latching on to Eddie’s neck. Taking Eddies stiffened arms and fingers into his own. Wrapping them around his waist and holding Eddie close.

He licks over a spot and bites, hard. No doubt it’ll be a bruise by morning, front and centre for anyone to see.

‘Ah ah’ Eddie pants as Steve dips lower and bites again, littering his neck with blooms of red. Eddie feels how Steves fisting his own cock, bumping against Eddie’s abdomen, hot breath over his neck.

Steve licks a long stripe from his collarbone to the hinge of Eddie’s jaw, sealing the marks and leaving a hot, wet, open mouthed kiss on Eddie’s lips.

‘Wear your hair up tomorrow, want everyone to see.’ Steve pants, close. ‘Promise me.’ Se’s so close, the wet end of his tip slicking Eddie’s happy trail, his own cock giving a twitch.

Eddie kisses Steve back, licks into his mouth and sucks on his tongue. Eddie eyes roll at Steve’s groan. ‘Anything, anything. promise.’ He whines, wants everyone to see, wants people to know.

Eddie rubs his nose agains Steve’s cheek, still feeling stretched thin and fragile from his orgasm. Steves hot breath on his face. ‘Belong to you.’ He mumbles, voice high and breathy and achingly soft. But this is who he is, who he wants to be.

Steve buried his hand in Eddie’s hair, tensing and pushing him into the wall, releasing all over Eddie’s hip and pubes. Steve pants for a moment, Eddie sinking into the warm pressure, mouthing at Steve’s cheek and squeezing Steve’s waist. Keeping them close.

Eddie sniffs, burying himself in Steve’s neck, nuzzling and smelling him, kissing over Steve’s tanned skin. Always so pretty, so perfect. His Steve.

‘Hey rockstar, you okay?’ Steve asks, pulling Eddie’s head out and ghosting his lips over Eddie’s fluttering eyelids. Kissing his flush cheeks and sweaty forehead.

Eddie hums, a little loopy, still off in space. But Steve just keeps kissing him, smiling through it, nipping at Eddie’s dimples. ‘’M so proud of you Ed’s, the show was so good tonight.’ Steve mumbles, then sucks lightly on Eddie’s bottom lip.

Eddie lens into in, kissing Steve back, he feels happy and settled and like his bones are all back in the right place, all the staticky anxiety gone from his brain. ‘You mean the show out there or the one in here?’ He asks, grin forming, still not opening his eyes.

Steve pinches him on the hip and Eddie yelps, giggling. Steve kisses him once more, murmuring a fond little ‘brat’ before stepping away to get tissues, tucking himself back in his jeans.

‘Come on.’ Steve claps, once Eddie’s clean and his pants are re-buttoned, ‘I want dinner.’ He says, walking Eddie out of the door, plastered against his back.

Eddie goes willingly, ready for food with the band, to have a couple drinks, enjoy Steve’s hand on his thigh. Then, sleep.

And then he’ll do it all again tomorrow.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#fun fact this one was finished first #eddie just really likes being Steve’s #and showing off :)#hotlunch #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #sub eddie munson #<3 #my fic

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bruisedleftknee · 17 hours

Text

Okay, so imagine it's weekend, you and Noah are home. He's been playing video games since he woke up, and you’ve been getting ready for a very important exam you have this week and you're tired of studying.

You just need something to help you relax.

Your bed is covered with your books, notebooks, and papers; you’ve been studying for hours. “I feel like my brain is about to fucking explode.. Aaaaaahh~” You say loudly as you throw your pen across the bed and lay on your back on the bed.

And you hear Noah shout, “What, babe?” from the living room, "Nothing,” you answer quietly while you're staring at the ceiling.

A few seconds later, Noah is standing inside your bedroom’s door frame, still holding his controller with the cat ear headphones that you bought him around his neck. “Something wrong?” He asks.

“I don’t want to study anymore,” you say in a whiny tone as you close your eyes and rub them from under your glasses. “I’m so fucking tired.”

You're tired, your head feels hot, and you can't read another fucking word.

When you open your eyes, you see Noah standing beside your bed, looking down at you. He leans a little to take your hand. “Wanna go grab something to eat?” he says as he rubs the back of your hand.

“Not really, I’m really tired." You say, looking up at him. You could say yes, but you want something else, you want something to help you relax, and then you'll think about food.

He leans a little more and kisses your forehead innocently. “Can I do anything to help?” he smiles.

You bite your bottom lip and narrow your eyes. “I mean..” you say as you reach under his shorts, “..you could do, a few things.”

He smiles at you and slowly sits on top of you while your hand is in his boxers, “I thought you were tired.” He raises an eyebrow and smiles.

"Oh, I am very very very tired,” you frown. “Mhmm I can see!” he says and puts the controller on the nightstand, then leans in to kiss you.

He caresses your hair and cheeks with his soft, big hands and kisses your neck. Your hands are now under his black shirt, exploring his back. He's warm, and his skin is soft. His nose smudges your glasses when you kiss him back. He’s still on top of you, kissing and sucking your neck. You can feel how hard he's getting; your hands are under his shirt, but you feel his hard growing on your soft belly, and with each move, you feel it more.

You both start moaning between kisses. In a quick move, you try to switch places with him, but he stops you. “Are you in a rush?” he says.

“I kinda am. Gotta study, remember?” Your books and notebooks are still covering most of the bed, you push them aside so you two can have more space.

He smiles and puts his hands under your oversized grey shirt. You're not wearing a bra, so his fingers reach your nipples after seconds. Your nipples are getting hard under his touch.

He pulls up your shirt and takes it off carefully. You're still under him, only with your red lace panties on. He's a big guy but he doesn't put any weight on you, the only thing he wants you to feel is his hard dick that he pushes onto your belly.

His thick thighs are keeping you locked and still. His black shorts are rolled up, and you can see the tattoos on his thighs. You run your hands on them and touch his hard cock.

He's kissing your neck now, coming down to your navel, kissing and licking your belly.

You're starting to get so wet now; you feel your warm arousal on your panties when they rub against your core. All you want is for him to take them off and put his hard cock inside you. You want to feel all of him inside you more than anything now. You don't like to wait but Noah always makes you wait.

Now you have one hand on the back of his head, almost grabbing his hair, you try to take off your underwear with your free hand cause you know he wants to take his time and isn't planning on giving you what you want anytime soon.

He sees you struggling to pull down your panties so he gets up to help you, leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs as he pulls them down. Then he looks at them. Your arousal has made the red fabric look almost crimson. He rubs his thumb on the wet spot. He looks even more turned on now, his breaths are getting heavier. He tosses your underwear to the corner, grabs you by your thighs, and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. the second he does that, you feel the cold air in the room on your wet core and you realize how wet you are, it makes you want to tell him to hurry because you can't wait another second, but before you can say anything, he's on his knees, opening your legs with his arms, pushing your legs as far away as possible. You feel his warm breath on your core. This is it, you can't wait any longer. You grab his head with both hands and press him on your core, and you let out the loudest moan.

He starts licking you, then licks your clit in a circular motion. You hear him trying to say something but you can't understand a word. Both of you have said only a few words since this started, but you don't feel like you need to talk, he's doing everything you want.

Your legs start to shake as he licks your clit faster and faster. You try to keep them still with your hands but it's not working so Noah helps you keep them still by putting them on his shoulders and holding them with both hands.

You're moaning so loud, “Please don't stop” you say between your moans.

He lets go of one of your legs and puts his index and middle finger on your hole's entrance, teasing you while he's sucking on your clit. You know if he starts fucking you with his fingers, you're going to cum, but you want his cock. You don't even know if he's going to give you his cock or not.

You're sure that by now his pre-cum has left a wet spot on his boxers, and you can't wait till you can feel him inside you. You're lost in your thoughts till you feel his fingers enter you, “You here?” He stops for a second and asks. You want to answer, but now he's moving his fingers back and forth, so it takes you a few seconds to nod your head and say yes.

With his fingers still moving inside you and going faster by the second, you know you can't last any longer than this. Your legs are shaking, your stomach is getting stiff and you feel the orgasm building so you open your eyes and look at him.

When he sees that you're watching him, he goes between your thighs again and licks your clit, but he's doing it slowly, “Cum for me babe,” he tells you. He's doing everything so slowly and wants you to watch him. You know how much he loves putting on a show, so you keep your eyes on him. You watch how his tongue is playing with your clit and then he pulls out his fingers and licks them off your arousal, it's making you crazy. He grabs your breast and slightly pulls your nipple, then puts his fingers inside you again. and this time, when he puts his tongue on your clit, your back arches and your eyes roll back. Your moans are louder than all the moans you let out this evening.

“I'm gonn-” And before you can tell him that you're going to cum, you feel it; you feel the sweet release, and your body finally relaxes.

He slowly pulls out his wet fingers and puts them in your mouth, “You came like you wanted my cock!” He tells you.

“I do” Is your quick answer after you lick his tattooed fingers “I still do.”

“And you'll have it if you pass your exam." He tells you teasingly and fixes your glasses on your face, “So you better get back to your books,” and kisses your forehead.

#bruisedleftknee #noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian x reader #badomens #badomenscult #bad omens band #bad omens smut #my fic

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