#& to see the meaning in darkness & to remember that not everything makes sense & life is just a collection of moments all quilted together
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i think that there was a fanwriter named Nemis that wrote a lot of fics about E/C? i liked those fics!
My memory has never been good and after 20 years away it's completely unreliable, but still, that name rings a bell. I vaguely remember her being a nice person that I was aware of but never really interacted with because our areas of interest didn't quite intersect.
i hoped the show would give some spot to Celebrian … and instead. lol.
Indeed! I can just picture the show writers turning their noses up at the thought of writing Galadriel as a mother. She can't be a mother! Whoever heard of a mother being interesting? No one would think it was cool for Galadriel to be an actual queen and seasoned diplomat and seer, with a husband and a child.
Not to mention that Celebrian can't be interesting at all because she dies as a damsel in distress, so she must be a wimp all her life (ignoring the fact that everybody dies in distress.) People can't imagine that her life could have been interesting before that :( Sexism and failure of imagination again.
it would be interesting to see if anyone else had my idea … of course i have not read all the Galadriel/Celeborn fics out there so if someone has those, feel free to drop!
LOL! I'm sorry to end up dropping my own fics on you, but it sounds like you might enjoy my Oak and Willow
(Ignore all the tags, they were auto-imported from Henneth Annun when that archive backed up all its stories on Ao3 and then shut down.) And you can probably ignore chapters 1-4 if you're just in it for the C/G romance. They are world building for Doriath and setting up Celeborn's position in his home, with Thingol, Melian, Luthien and Daeron.
I originally started out intending this one to be a Sindarin history of the world, from the rising of the sun and the moon. But it rapidly became the story of C&G in the First Age. If I had known it was just going to be their love story against a backdrop of the events of the First Age, I might have left off chapter 1 at least, as that was setting up something I didn't actually write in the end.
But it is more or less what you're talking about. So if you're interested, you might like it :)
oh that's interesting, may i ask if it's still online? my beef with peter jackson started muuuuch later with the hobbit movies, but i like to see how other people reacted to the LOTR trilogy when it comes out
Yes, Battle of the Golden Wood is on Ao3 too - also imported from HASA (Henneth Annun Story Archive, which was the place to post elf fanfic back in the day.)
I agree with you about the Hobbit movies! Way too much bloat. There was the occasional nice thing in them - I enjoyed seeing Beorn's house and his bees, for example - but almost everything that PJ put in was grotesque and unfunny and unnecessary. The Hobbit would have made one great film, but there just isn't enough story in it to stretch to three.
as for what you say … i think that that's the current approach of Warner Bros, with its War of the Rohirrim stuff or whatever. i'm not enthusiast about it at all and i would probably complain about it too,
I know what you mean. I'm not enthusiastic either about a Rohirrim spin-off because it seems like they've picked the most low-effort story imaginable. Yes, you can use props from The Vikings and Game of Thrones. You can probably crib story lines from Bernard Cornwell's Anglo-Saxon stories. Have we not seen enough pseudo-early-medieval stories already?
I would have liked to see something we haven't seen before! (Which doesn't mean I won't at least check out the first season. But my hopes are not high.)
i do not want to be mean but btw i do have the feeling that a lot of rop fans are mostly migratory dark romance fans
Oh, the Reylo folks from Star Wars? That would actually make an awful lot of sense. They certainly behave like them. I managed to avoid them by being in the Kylux fandom at the time, and the Kylux fandom was numerous enough to just block them all and carry on doing our own thing regardless. Also a good time :)
it's lowkey … limitating? flattening? because neither galadriel nor sauron fit into this archetype and i do think that forcing them in this dynamic … just doesn't make them sauron and galadriel anymore? but i digress
I know exactly what you mean. I've mostly spent my fandom life in slash (m/m) fandom and there is a migratory slash fandom which is the same. If a pairing gets big enough then the msf will arrive and reduce it to a set of tropes and stereotypes, and then move on to the next big thing as soon as it arrives. In that case, you just have to wait for the next big thing and hope there is someone left still writing to pick up the fandom once they've gone.
Yeah at this point i do honestly wish that everyone can write its own retelling of lotr and publish it.
At least there is the opportunity for us to do it in Ao3, even if we're not allowed to make money on it. We can do it for love :)
Hoo, boy. I am definitely going to unfollow the Celeborn tag again, since it's full of Haladriel shippers arguing that Celeborn stans are harassing them.
I'm not getting into whether that's true. I have no interest in Rings of Power, and as far as I am concerned, Halbrand does not exist in Tolkien's world. I can't be somewhere where people mix Amazon's fanfiction with actual lore.
Also ship wars are not for me. I was a massive Celeborn defender during the release of the movies, and I wrote several novels worth of fanfic then. I think I'm spent.
Still, as a Celeborn fan I thought the Celeborn tag would be a great place to go to find stuff about Celeborn. How could I have been so foolish!
My poor lad! Not even his own tag is about him. Which is exactly what I should have expected, now I come to think about it.
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(ignore this it’s basically just a mopey diary entry that for some reason i like whispering into the void of the internet instead but i’m fine)
#i know life is rly difficult for everyone ok i know it’s not just me. and i know i have a lot of things to be grateful for — and i AM.#i am always consciously grateful every day. i am always doing everything i can to see the light in everything and everyone#& to see the meaning in darkness & to remember that not everything makes sense & life is just a collection of moments all quilted together#i know all of my feelings have been felt before and that i will get through them and that the sun will rise each day regardless#i know every single word of comfort someone else might give me bc i’ve given them all myself before.#still. i am just a girl who fell asleep on the sofa on a summer evening and woke up in the body of an adult#& everything is rly scary & tiring & frustrating and i’m sad and i want a nap and for someone else to take the reigns for a little while#even tho i know they can’t. even tho i know i’ll just keep going and enduring and living my life and trying to make it all easier#but i just. so much isn’t fair and i don’t know how to deal with unfair.#there’s such massive injustice in the world and i feel selfish for even having my own measly little problems. but i do#i just sgagshshshbsjssj#i wish i was pretty like other girls. i wish i was cool and sociable. i wish i was successful and smarter and funnier and had friends near#i wish i was rly good at an instrument or a sport. or that i had a job. or a brain that worked like other ppl’s.#i wish i lived somewhere i liked and i wish ppl liked me more and i wish i looked different#i wanna know what it’s like to feel that way. i wanna know what it’s like to be flirted with and kissed and invited out to do things#i wanna feel accomplished and satisfied. i wanna be less lonely. i wanna be less weird.#i wish i could talk to people without them giving each other that look that makes me feel like i’m the weird kid in middle school again.#i wish i didn’t feel invisible or stared at and nothing in between.#i wish i didn’t feel so isolated being 25 and never having kissed anyone#i wish i didn’t feel like an ugly weirdo freak that nobody would ever want to kiss#i wish i didn’t feel so annoying. so awkward. so different.#i know logically that what i’m feeling isn’t new. and that i’m allowed to exist. and that there aren’t any time limits for anything#i know i can get better at instruments and meet people irl one day and that things can change#fuck i still sing in public. i dress how i want. i compliment strangers even tho my hands shake after. i try to live the way i want to live#but why! can’t! i! feel! normal!#why can’t i feel accepted and wanted and stable and safe#why do i always always have to feel like the odd one out. the one at the back of the sidewalk. the one paired up with the teacher#WHY when i try so hard to follow all the rules and break all the rules and not try at all#i know the answer. bc i am autistic bc i am a girl bc i am a human in this world who is very sensitive#i know i’m not the only one in the world with such typical problems such as isolation. but i am so lonely
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dating simon riley means constant clinginess. large arms wrapped around your waist at any given moment, simon is most comfortable when he's holding you. after being away from a long mission, he'll find you wherever you are in your shared apartment and silently crawl into your arms like a puppy. he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, slowly inhaling to bask in your scent that he missed more than anything. with an amused chuckle, you'll wrap your arms around his warm torso, gently rubbing his back. "no hello?" you'll tease, to which you always earn a content hum in response, along with simon's hold tightening ever so slightly.
dating simon riley means lots of playful teasing. if you make a typo in a text message, he'll begin spelling the word as your typo for the rest of the day. if you believed in a silly fact, he'd bring it up for the rest of your life. "this is like when you thought our blood was actually blue" he'd snicker, which would cause you to whine for him to stop and swat his arm.
dating simon riley means constantly being cared for. simon is a man who can do everything, or at least tries to. he somehow manages to get to all the chores before you do, which has ended in you reassuring him that you can handle it many, many times. when doing something potentially dangerous like standing on a ladder, handling a knife or using tools, simon will constantly glance in your direction to make sure something won't slip and injure you. like a spidey sense, he's quick to pull you away or come to your rescue if you're in a situation where you're about to hurt yourself. "you alright?" he'll mumble softly, dark eyes laced with worry that is a rare sight to be seen by anyone else.
dating simon riley means you have a second wardrobe. his large clothes are just too comfortable to resist, and he's often left searching the apartment for a shirt that you had placed amongst your own clothes. though, he makes no effort to steal them back from you, as seeing you in his tshirt, his boxers and his hoodie fills him with a loving possessiveness. he'll walk into the kitchen to see you turned away as you wash dishes, wearing one of his shirts as a short dress. managing to silently sneak behind you even with his bulky frame, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind and place a kiss against the nape of your neck. "you look so pretty in my shirt, love." he'll then purr into your ear.
dating simon riley means seeing a side of him that many never do. whether it be physically or personality wise, you see so much of simon that you can't remember the last time you referred to him as ghost. his large pointy nose, his dirty blonde hair that he always forgets to fix in the mornings, and his lopsided smile that appears when you tell the corniest of jokes are all things that many have never seen and never will. he speaks so softly to you; a low tone that you can feel reverberating in his chest when you lay against him. simon is kind, patient and vulnerable with you, and will mutter the words "i love you" against your lips, just loud enough for only you to hear.
dating simon riley means being friends with the rest of the 141. you were the one who wished to host hangouts at your apartment, wanting those closest to simon to like you. despite their intimidating demeanors, you quickly realized just how kind they were. they know just how important you are to simon, which is a rare feat in itself, so they would never treat you in an ill manner. soap will always refer to you as "the missus" when speaking to simon, which never fails to make you giggle when you overhear their conversations.
masterlist
#just a small blurb bc i wanted to write smth#im working on fics i promise!!#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#call of duty#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#mw2#mw3#modern warfare#fluff#headcanons#x reader#imagine
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Ain't no sunshine
A/N: neglected reader x yandere batfam part one if y'all like this I'll continue it feedback always welcome 🤗 part 2
Your mother always spoke so fondly of your father, this certain warmth fell over her whenever you asked about him, as if he was the great love of her life, but even at your young age, you could also sense the heavy air of sadness around her whenever you brought him up.
As a child, your curiosity about the man seemed to be never-ending, it didn't help that your mom talked about him, about how you'd meet him someday. She inadvertently set you up, instilling you with this unfortunate expectation of him being just as excited to meet you as you were him.
Having the city's most famous bachelor as a father felt like some weird dirty secret. Seeing him on TV with his adopted kids- how happy they looked filled you with such a profound sense of longing, a feeling you were far too young to understand. TV was the only reason you could even put a face to a name, he was constantly in the news. Your childlike curiosity and fondness for the man soured with each view of him wrapped around some model or cutting some stupid ribbon where the crowd around him applauds every time he so much as shifts.
Your mother never badmouthed him despite the way he so clearly abandoned her, she had this fantasy where he'd come walking in the door declaring his undying love, over the years you learned to simply smile and nod, you knew it was a delusion.
She never allowed herself to move on, it was something you'd forever hold against the man. He'd ruined your mom in a way she was incapable of recovering from and that alone had Bruce on your bad side long before the unfortunate day you were dropped in his life.
The woman loved and raised you as best she could but a single mother forced to support herself through her pregnancy, could only do so much. In truth, you'd been forced to grow up long before you were dumped at Wayne's doorstep. Your sweet mother had been caught in the criminal underbelly of Gotham, something that seemed to happen to many good people in this town, she turned to unsavory means to provide for you and it caught up with her quickly.
She worked double shifts so most days you had to walk home alone, thankfully the local scumbags of your neighborhood had a soft spot for the woman and in turn, you. Despite how dangerous and crime-riddled your neighborhood was, you never felt afraid walking home, not until the day the firetrucks went screaming past you, something about them had your stomach sinking, your little feet pumping faster towards your home, you smelled the smoke before you saw it, and you'll never forget the sight, how dark it made the already grey Gotham skies, how horribly loud the sirens were, the way your neighbor picked you up, shielding your eyes as he pushes you into his chest. You can still remember the heat from the flames as they consumed your small home. You stood unmoving, unblinking as the roaring fire destroyed everything you'd ever known.
To make matters worse, Jim Gordon, the chief of police happened to be the cop on call, and because of that he inevitably noticed something in your eyes, something in your face so strikingly familiar, that despite this being your first meeting, he could feel in his gut he knew you. It bothers him so much that he follows his hunch and does a blood test the second they get you to the station, his theory is confirmed when your DNA comes back matching the Playboy of Gotham City
Jim tries to comfort you but he knows you'll never be the same after losing your mother. He takes you straight to Bruce's door hoping your Father could help soothe the unimaginable hurt you were going through.
Bruce had no idea how to deal with you. In his defense, you happened to come into his life broken, needing guidance and parental love, at the worst possible time, the same day you're plopped at his feet is the same there's a massive breakout at Arkham, the casualties are already in the fifties, not to mention how high that number would jump the longer he left his more worrisome foes out.
In this mess of emotional turmoil, the last thing Bruce needed was a kid plopped in his lap, but it's what he gets. He was seconds from suiting up when Jim dropped you off.
With some half-assed excuse, you don't even really register, Bruce ushers you inside by the wrist only to drop you off with Alfred, he bolts to the batmobile in an effort to not waste any more of his time, knowing he could be saving lives.
He swore to himself once he fixed this problem, he'd give you his full attention, after all, he knew exactly what you were feeling right now, all the confusion and guilt, the anger and despair, he knew he was the one to comfort you, who'd be able to give you the support you needed.
The thing is, problems in Gotham are never truly quite fixed, are they?
Alfred doesn't know anything about your situation other than that you were Bruce's daughter, he can tell you're traumatized by the glossy look in your big eyes, how you limply held his hand as he showed you to the kitchen, he treats you kindly, speaking softly and getting you settled in your too big room in your too big bed, it felt so bare, so empty, it made that hollow feeling in your chest deeper.
This is the first of many nights you cry yourself to sleep.
The next day Bruce officially introduces himself, sitting across from you at a large table, the distance feeling three miles long. You numbly eat, taking small bites, not truly hungry, but you didn't want to hurt the nice Butler's feelings after hearing he made every elegant dish before you. You're still quiet and don't look happy to be here but you respond when Bruce asks you questions, wanting to be cooperative, because, despite the hellish situation, you need a parent right now.
He can only offer you this brief moment of connection before he's called away, Batman's job was never truly over after all. He gives you a stiff pat on your shoulder before leaving, it's the most he's touched you since you've come here.
At that moment, swallowing how uncomfortable you were in your new situation, you stop him with a gentle tug to his arm, eyes teary and wet, your young mind needed the comfort of a trusted adult, needed someone to look at you with a warm smile and tell you it was all going to be okay, but you can't ask for it... The words dry and shrivel on your tongue, so instead you simply stare at him, eyes full of a mix of emotions, silently pleading for him to stay, to hold you, anything, other than walk away.
But he doesn't, what he does is give you that perfect T.V. smile, the one you grew up seeing him give at charity galas and somehow it felt warmer through the screen, he removes your hand gently, "I'm sorry (Y/n), I really have to go, if you need anything at all Alfred can help you out okay? I'll be home soon." The smile he sends you doesn't reach his eyes as he rushes to exit, this is the first time your father breaks your heart.
The second time he breaks it is when he introduces you to some of the rest of his family. Dick Grayson needed no introduction as his adoption into the Wayne family had been heavily televised, his face was the one you were most familiar with, despite this, it was still odd to meet someone you'd grown up watching on your old little television with envy in your (e/c) eyes, the feeling of otherness was only amplified as you walked into the manor's dining room on what looked like a sweet familial lunch, the dark-haired man opens his mouth to greet you but is cut off by Bruce's stern voice, "(Y/n),
The third time Bruce breaks your heart is when Damian arrives, he shows up a good year after you, by now your were closest to Alfred, you'd made a habit of texting Dick and Barbara updates on Bruce and the homes state, considering they didn't live at the manner like Tim, and only ever rarely received texts back from Barbara.
The moment you meet your younger brother you can sense the difference between the two of you instantly. He looks like Bruce, standing tall despite being shorter than you, he turned his nose up at you as Bruce introduces him. Dick is there too, which makes things worse because of the visible effort he's putting into Damian.
You do your best to try to befriend him at first, offering to show him around the large manner to which he scoffs. Like you've offended him with your question.
"As if I need a nobody like you to show me around my home." He never hid his feelings of disdain, often and frequently letting you know just how inferior to him he thought you were, granted at this point Damian thinks this about most people, but it still felt like a knife twisted in your gut each time he ruthlessly rejects you.
It doesn't help that Bruce seems so eager to spend time with him, how they're always together when you had to fight him to spare you five minutes, they bonded so fast, it made your insecurities bubble over each time they scurry off together in a rush, you once grew brave enough to ask them if you can join but the second the request leaves your lips, Bruce is shutting it down.
"I'm sorry, I have business at the office I need Damian for, next time." Bruce says as they leave, his smile just as empty as his promise, the smug look Damian gives you feels like gravel and dirt being smeared into your carved open flesh.
You try to talk to Dick whenever he comes around, one afternoon, the rain is so heavy in Gotham you decide to stay home, a small voice inside you cruelly reminds you it was also a cheap ploy for some kind of attention from Bruce, by the afternoon you figure the school has alerted him of your absence, deciding to face whatever consequences awaited you, you go downstairs, subconsciously keeping your footfall light, a nervous habit you picked up after Damian said you shook the whole house when you walked.
You overhear him talking with Dick in the kitchen when you tiptoe down the stairs, you were quiet, so quiet they don't hear you, "How's the case going?" There was always this audible warmth in Bruce's tone whenever he spoke to Dick, "Fine, I got a lead I'm pretty confident with, gonna-" He stops talking as you step on a creaky floorboard. "My department is pretty confident that is." You round the steps with a small smile, but only Dick returns it.
"Hello, how've you been?" you'd ask earnestly, "Good thanks!" he'd say, but that would be it, the friendly man was never mean to you per se, he just had this terrible habit of forgetting you. You kept to yourself a lot, seeing you so rarely it felt hard not to forget when he had so much going on, not only in Bludhaven but Bruce had been calling him to Gotham more and more to help deal with Damian, he had his hands full, not to mention the sudden rise of crime in Gotham.
Barbara likes you, she really does, but being Oracle took up every moment of her free time, she was a focused woman and people in this town always needed her help. She had a room in the manner dedicated to her vigilante work, the villains were getting bolder and more frequent in their attacks and Bruce needed her help constantly. And it wasn't just him calling on her skills, everyone was constantly asking her for things because they knew she could get them, that's just how she was, everyone but you.
Whenever she was in the manner working, you were always the one to tell her dinner was done or remind her to drink water, and bring her coffee when she hadn't left her office all day, you were reaching out in a way that didn't overwhelm her, like you could see she was stressed, but she was like a horse with blinders on.
Tim meets you while he's still neck deep in his search for revenge against captain boomerang, which unfortunately means he's short-tempered and stuck in a permanent work mode, he's cross with his close family, so it's no surprise he's even quicker to anger with you, you're intentions are as pure as can be, you see him awake late into the night, his bedroom door open, and say genuinely, "It's so late Tim, maybe you should try to get some sleep-"
"Maybe you shouldn't stick your nose where it doesn't belong?" He snaps back without so much as looking away from his screen, he was already on edge, defensive as Bruce had been nagging him all day not to overwork himself, he says this with pure venom, so much irritation and malice it makes your bottom lip wobble, he doesn't see the way you flinch at his anger, the way you sink into yourself.
It seemed like each time you tried to reach out to them, to bridge the obvious gap between you, it just made things worse. His comment hit you like a bus, only furthering the nasty idea that had been gnawing at you since you'd arrived, you didn't belong here.
You didn't belong with them.
When you meet Jason, it's about a year and a half into your stay, you were in the same uncomfy position in terms of your closeness with the Family, or rather lack thereof, and the day you meet, things are bright for the first time since you've moved in. You're in the kitchen making yourself lunch when he stealthily climbs in through the window, this scares the shit out of you, having never met him before, you brandish your peanut butter-covered butter knife towards him, "Woah! Easy there, I used to live here I swear." Jason says clearly amused by your fierce stance, he smiles at you with a warmth you'd grown unfamiliar with, "Shit- sorry I thought you were a burglar or something." You say laughing off your nervousness, dropping the knife in the sink as he leans against the counter.
"And if I was..you planned on buttering me to death?" He teases, you feel yourself snort before you can stop it, "Maybe, consider yourself lucky we never have to find out." This makes Jason chuckle under his breath, it still felt extremely weird for him to be back here, just recently becoming cordial with Bruce, but he enjoyed your company. nonetheless.
"You're (Y/n) right? Bruce's newest kid?" He notices the way your smile falls, how you turn to finish making your lunch, the mere mention of his name seems to deflate your once bright aura. "That's me." You seem to say this with a heaviness that doesn't belong on someone so young, "Who are you?" He scoffs lightly at your question, before leaning over, swiping half of your sandwich with a playful grin, "Wow, they didn't tell you about me? Figures, whatever, I'm Jason." He shakes your hand, and for the first time in years you feel good like you weren't on the edge of fucking something up, but then Jason's watch beeps and he leaves. He gently ruffles your hair, "Good to meet you kid, see you around yeah?"
Jason was like the sunshine breaking through the clouds of your new life, but eventually, his own life gets busier and busier, his monthly visits turn into a short call every once, and not long after, even that stops, he's busy ripping Gotham criminals to pieces, consumed by his rage. He just assumes you're fine, that everything is okay, after all, you never complained about it.
You know something is going on with them, their hushed conversations and seemingly never-ending parade of bruises and mysterious cuts start to add up, the way they disappeared at night, but it's only on your fifteenth birthday that you finally figure out what they'd been hiding. Bruce and Damian suddenly rushed away from your birthday dinner, you turn on the news as Alfred boxes up the mostly untouched food, watching you blow out your candles with a sad smile., Bruce and Damian's portions go cold and untouched.
Batman and Robin arrive on the scene just a few minutes after your father and your younger brother dash away. it's only then do you really notice how similar the dynamic duo looks to your two family members.
This is the final straw, when you realize what they've been hiding under your nose this whole time is.. infuriating to say the least, all of a sudden the isolation and otherness makes sense, of course they excluded you, you weren't a member of their little club. This night is the last you spend yearning for them, the bitter, festering anger that had been building over the years only intensifies as you stew in your rage.
#yananswers#anon submission#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere dc imagine#yandere dc x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#aint no sunshine
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Principal got the Homestuck treatment.
#susan baldimore#baldi bbieal#susaldi#principal of the thing bbieal#They mean so much to the world…#Shoutout to Susan’s hair always looking like the worlds most fucked-up croissant#Sentry’s design for Susan is so Beginner’s Guide to Heresay for me…#It’s only now that I’ve noticed that Susan’s green is like slightly dark than Baldi’s green woahhhhhh…#These are so expressive and so funny they truely capture the spirit of Baldi’s Bsics#actually alot of tour work capture Baldi’s Basics essence so beutiful even the more depressing ones#Okay let’s have a moment to discuss how Baldi’s Basics is very tender and simple in its expression of emotions and how Sentry is perfect in#I want to first point to the tragedy of Null’s character in concept it is a very lonely and scary concept the idea you live outside#‘the bubble of society’ either because of circumstance (being out of bound in a game) or unappeal (being a mad conspiracy theorist who is#bitter and afraid of everything) and if you tried to explain yourself nobody would listen either because they can’t or don’t want to#on one hand you blame yourself because of your bad personality but on the other hand you blame the world for its areogance and stubborness#It’s a tragedy and yet MystMan never delves too hard into it there’s always this sense of loneliness because whenver Null speaks to you#it’s just Null nobody else no one to react to him or for him to react towards and it also feels like his actions don’t hve an impact on the#world around him. Similarly if you interacted with Null — during the ARG — it would also feel like yoru actions don’t ahve mcuh consequence#since in the end Null returns to his ordinary FileName2 self. And the world of Baldi’s Basics remains basic as always.#Compare that to Sentry’s interpretation of Susaldi alot of the scenes we receive of them usually far away and also distant like them dancing#while we (the viewer) peek through a window or them standing in front of a green square in a void (my last reblog) or them kissing in the#night while FilneName2 peeks from behind a tree. There are more intimate ones like seeing the family interact in the house or going to the#beach. But those happy emotions are ultimately drowned out when we remember that Susan is not with Baldi and therefore Baldi will never be#with his old life. It’s a distant life and one that is in reality very cold which makes all those intimate moments feel like a dream.#Pictures liek the ones I mentioned in the former are usually dull and more simple in palette which can feel like a faint flashback.#Compared to the pictures in the latter where they are fully coloured and have rooms that are lived in.#I forgot to mention that in both Sentry’s Susaldi and Null’s Tragedy we never see the character fully develop outside tehir archetype or#see the progression from Point A to Point B. Again they’re really more like random memories scattered about or an old friend you see soemtim#Remember when this was about funny Susaldi.#Man these funny memes really make me hurdle my cheese!! Thank youf ro good content and fanart 😂😂😂😂
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Playing Dark Souls 2 again and damn, in spite of its rough edges, I think it’s my favorite.
They’re all good, mind you. Dark Souls 1 is the foundation, and 3 is playing the hits while also saying that it can’t just play the hits forever and has to end.
And Dark Souls 2 is doing its own weird different thing and I love it.
I think it has the best story of the three games, because it really concerns itself with people.
The intro isn’t a list of people and monsters you need to kill, it’s your story. How you came into this land. You are afflicted with the curse of undeath, and it’s destroying your life and your mind. Everything that follows is based around that. You’re not the Chosen Undead, a title put on you in the first game because of a role you’re expected to play in some legend. You’re the Bearer of the Curse, because that’s your concern in all this, your curse.
You see it afflict others throughout the game, too. Most of the characters in Majula can’t remember how they got here, their goals, their lives before Drangleic are fading, same as yours. Lucatiel is by far my favorite NPC in any Souls game, a tragic view of another cursed undead that doesn’t quite make it. You fight alongside her. She confides in you, forms a bond with you. And then, as the last remnants of her mind, her self, leave her, she begs you to remember her name. Vendrick, the mighty king of Drangleic, is a shell of himself. He shuffles around in his own tomb, having long ago succumbed to the curse. He may as well already be dead. In every way that matters, he is.
And if you don’t figure something out, it’s going to happen to you, too.
Some to do has been made about the world layout not making sense. Some say it’s bad design or development troubles leading to compromises. Others say it’s intentional, that time and space are warped, though I think that’s either not true here or done much better in DS3. I subscribe to a third camp I’ve seen a bit less frequently: These nonsensical ways you move between some of these places are because you forgot how you got from one place to the other.
“So you got to the top of the tower, then what?”
“Oh, then I got on an elevator, which took me up— up to… I was on an elevator… then I was in an old keep sinking into a lake of lava.”
You’re losing your mind and your memory, you just can’t remember what happened between Earthen Peak and Old Iron Keep.
So you go slay the old ones, find Vendrick, seek out the ancient dragon, defeat Nashandra and—
It doesn’t work. You don’t cure the curse. You can either take the throne, or keep looking for a cure. We don’t see what kind of monarch you are to your ruined kingdom if you stay. And we don’t see you find a cure to the curse if you leave.
You lose.
It’s left to you to decide, does continuing to fight this fate have meaning? Is the struggle, in and of itself, worthwhile?
Dark Souls 2 is about going Hollow, and I love that it goes in such a different direction with its lore and story to be that.
#dark souls 2#also yeah I know about the crown you get for doing all the DLCs#I always saw that as a non-canon little bonus
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Ex bf theo who was really toxic and was a bad bf but after the break up he matures and tries tonget you back?
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
THEODORE NOTT HAD ALWAYS BEEN AN ENIGMA, a puzzle that you never quite managed to solve. during your relationship, his brooding silence and sharp wit had initially drawn you in, but over time, they became the very things that chipped away at your happiness. he was toxic — possessive, distant, and emotionally unavailable. the relationship became a series of ups and downs, with moments of passion followed by long stretches of cold indifference. you spent too much time trying to reach him, trying to make him care the way you did, but in the end, it was clear that he wasn't ready to be the person you needed him to be.
the breakup had been inevitable. it was messy and painful, filled with harsh words and lingering regrets. you walked away shattered but determined to heal, to rebuild yourself without the weight of his darkness pulling you down. months passed, and slowly but surely, you began to find your footing again. life moved on, and so did you — or at least, you tried to.
then, one day, theodore showed up in your life again.
it was the warmest day of early september. you were in diagon alley, browsing through the rows of books at flourish and blotts, when you felt that painfully familiar presence behind you. your heart skipped a beat, a mixture of dread and curiosity flooding your senses. you turned, and there he was, standing awkwardly near the entrance, his hands buried deep in his pockets.
theodore looked different. although he was still the tall, slender figure with the same piercing eyes that once made your heart race, something had changed. his posture was more relaxed, his expression softer. gone was the constant scowl that used to mar his handsome features, replaced now with what seemed like genuine vulnerability.
“hey,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, almost hesitant.
you blinked slowly, caught off guard by his presence. “theo?”
he shifted on his feet, glancing around the shop before meeting your gaze again. the use of his nickname by you stirred up unforgettable memories inside him. “can we talk? in private,”
you nodded at his request hesitantly and followed the boy, now who seemed like a man. he hurt you badly, and there was no reason for him to talk to you ever again, so why was he seeking you now?
theo’s quiet voice broke the silence between the two of you as you stood in a smaller aisle of the shop. “i’ve been thinking about you — a lot,” he admitted. “there’s something i have to say to you or i’ll go mad.”
you didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to expect. theodore had never been one to easily admit fault, and seeing him now, looking almost remorseful, was jarring. part of you wanted to turn and walk away, to avoid reopening old wounds, but another part — the part that once loved him truly and deeply — wanted to hear what he had to say.
“i know now i was a terrible boyfriend,” he began, his eyes not leaving yours. “i treated you horribly, and i don’t deserve your forgiveness. but i’ve changed. i know it’s hard to believe, but i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about everything i did wrong, everything i took for granted.”
he paused, as if searching for the right words. “i’ve been working on myself, trying to understand why i was the way i was. i didn’t realize how much i needed to grow up until you were gone.”
his words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you could hear the sincerity in his voice, see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t easy to let go of the past. too many memories of broken promises and hurtful words still lingered in your mind.
“theo, i . . .” you hesitated, unsure how to respond. “i’m glad you’ve been working on yourself, really, but i don’t know if i can just forget everything that happened. you hurt me, a lot.”
he nodded and his eyes found comfort on your hands. “i know. and i don’t expect you to just take me back. i just wanted you to know that i’m sorry for how i was. truly. and . . . if there’s ever a chance, even a small one, that we could try again . . . i would do everything differently. i would be better for you.”
theodore nott’s words were raw, unfiltered, and they hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. this wasn’t the theodore you had known — the one who hid behind sarcasm and anger. this was someone who had faced his demons and was trying, really trying, to be a better man. but could you trust him? could you risk your heart again after everything that had happened?
“i need time, theo,” you finally said, your voice soft but firm. “i can’t just jump back into something that hurt me so much.”
the slytherin nodded again, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. “i understand. i’ll wait as long as it takes. and if you never want to try again, i’ll respect that too. i just needed you to know that i’m sorry, and that i’m here if you ever want to give us another chance.”
with that, he turned to leave, but not before giving you one last, lingering look — a look filled with all the things he had never been able to say before.
#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott fic#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott drabble#theodore nott#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theo nott fluff#theo nott one shot#theo nott fic#theo nott x reader#theo nott imagine#theo nott fanfiction#x reader#reader insert#harry potter x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction
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being married to bruce wayne would include
• galas, charities, balls, etc. become more a part of your life than you probably ever wanted them to be.
• once you two officially become a couple, you become gotham’s "it" couple. whether you want to or not.
• in the press, the two of you are often depicted as gotham royalty.
• even before the two of you start dating, you swear you feel someone's presence at night whenever you walk home from work.
• it wasn't until a mugger attempted to steal your purse that you finally learned where that feeling of being watched had been coming from.
• when the dark knight told you to be mindful of your surroundings and to hurry home before swooping away into the night, you could only nod with widened eyes.
• you didn’t say anything until you got home, to be honest, you geeking out: it’s not every day that someone gets to meet "the batman".
• you gleefully call your boyfriend about it. he doesn’t answer it until later, but you can hear a smirk in his voice as he responds to you fangirling.
• eventually, you find out about his identity on accident.
• as expected, you’re a little upset. someone you were romantically involved with was masquerading around town dressed like every night was halloween, getting into dangerous situations.
• after the two of you talk about it, you begin to understand why he does it and while you may not necessarily agree with some of his more controversial methods, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s putting everything at risk just to make sure what happened to him doesn’t happen to anyone else.
• alfred always reports to you first whenever something happens to bruce, knowing how much he truly means to you.
• you’re the one he listens to the most (even more than alfred) when it comes to what he should be doing whether it be a complicated mission or something as simple as eating a much needed meal.
• most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before he would text you that he can’t make it because he’s being held up.
• when he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. and you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.
• bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. he loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. he always finds a way to be close to you when you’re together.
• he’s always trying to make up for the lost time with you by getting you expensive gifts and trips, only for you to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do all this.
• you’re always able to tell when he’s had a particularly rough night. his usual silence feels different; heavier.
• he becomes a lot more handsy with you, more affectionate. as if you’re the last flower in a prized garden and he never noticed until now.
• if you’re asleep by the time he gets back, you may get woken up by him caressing your cheek, rubbing a thumb over your hand, or him putting his big arms around you to pull you in close.
• one of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. most of the time you see alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.
• whenever the bat kids are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them too.
• dick constantly flirts with you and teases you and bruce. you love to play along with him because it makes bruce very uncomfortable.
• he finally proposes to you after three years of the kids telling him to do so. you obviously say yes.
• the two of you decide to have a small, private ceremony at the manor. friends and family only.
• bruce 100% cries as soon as he sees you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.
• alfred volunteers to be the wedding planner, because he always knew that you would be the future mrs. wayne. <33
#dc#dc comics#dc characters#dc fandom#dc fanfiction#dc fic#dc extended universe#dceu#dc animated universe#dcamu#batman#bruce wayne#batman fanfiction#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman fic#bruce wayne fic#batman x reader#bruce wayne x reader#batman x you#bruce wayne x you#batman imagine#bruce wayne imagine#batman smut#bruce wayne smut
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Kuroo Tetsuro has survived just about a hundred confessions in his lifetime. No, really, he has. He's survived meek, stuttering schoolgirls who bring him boxes of intricately wrapped chocolates, bolder, riskier classmates who offer to fill in the empty spot as his plus-one for school events, even girls from schools they play against who ask for a signature across their tits after Nekoma matches (which he has definitely never taken up before, for sure, not even a question.)
He is rendered speechless for the first time in his life, as he rummages through his brain, looking for the right words to either declare his undying infatuation, or to put together some sort of excuse as a backup plan if his confession goes sideways. Somehow, he fails to do either, which is how the two of you end up stuck inside the storage room of Nekoma's gym, surrounded by the seductive scent of rubber and leather volleyballs, and sweaty, unwashed school jerseys.
It was supposed to be easy, he was supposed to offer to pack up, and wait for the rest of the team to leave first, before ushering you, the team manager, over to him. He was supposed to tell you that he thought you were totally cool (not awesome yet though), one hand pressed up against the wall outside the storage room so his body could lean into it, and the other one spinning a volleyball on his finger like he just #didn't care lol if you said yes or no (which was a blatant lie). After that, since you would obviously have said yes anyways, he was supposed to flick the ball up and catch it with one hand only, flip his hair back like the totally awesome and nonchalant guy he thinks he is (he's not), and give you a wink for good measure, just so you remember how totally hot he is and never lose interest in him. Then, he would retreat into the storage room, and toss the volleyball into the basket with the others, waiting to hear for your giddy skips out of the gym. Once you were out, he would scream and jump like a teenage schoolgirl who just got their tits signed by Kuroo Tetsuro, and go home with a skip in his step. It was a perfect plan, down to the minute details.
Everything went south the second he decided to lean against the wall. It seemed that he had miscalibrated how many inches away the part of the wall that he was planning to lean on was from the door to the storage room. He instead opted to place his entire body weight onto the door that was kept ajar, so as to make sure Kuroo could go inside and toss the volleyball into the basket. It was already too late to salvage his plan when he sensed the shift in his centre of gravity, and the lack of surface beneath his feet as he tumbled straight into the storage room right in front of you. Obviously worried (of course, since you're supposed to be blindly in love with him), you ran in as well, too quickly for Kuroo to stop you before the door slowly swung shut behind your back, drowning the room in a blanket of pitch darkness.
The door unlocks from the outside. The keys are in Kuroo's pocket, which are now stuck inside the storage room that he had to unlock from the outside to keep open so he could toss the ball into the basket with the others after confessing his totally lowkey, "they don't even matter at all" feelings for you. See? This is what happens when Kuroo tries to do new things.
"You sure you don't want the lights-"
"KEEP THEM- nah, just keep them off, I like it better this way anyways."
He will stand in front of the light switch to block it completely if he needs to. He will threaten to strip naked right then and there if it means you will not even try to turn those fucking lights on. His entire body is so fucking red right now it's not even funny anymore, just embarrassing, and really, really lame. On the other hand, you just really want to find your phone, which has miraculously slipped out of your pocket and slid onto the ground of the storage room somewhere.
"Can I at least borrow your phone for a flashlight? I need to find mine, gotta let my parents know I might actually not make it home tonight."
Now Kuroo isn't a selfish person, and he is happy to offer his phone for you to find your own, so long as you don't try to look at him while you sweep across the floor of the room. He is happy to offer his phone, but it is sitting outside on a bench, far away from the horrors of the storage room. His free hand, now clammy and grimy from falling onto the ground and sweating bullets from his embarrassment, reaches up to rub his temples. Not only did his meticulously crafted plan blow up in his face, he now has to spend how many hours stuck in here with you, knowing full well he was going to confess. He can't even offer you help in finding a fucking phone in here. This isn't funny anymore, just humiliating, and really, really, really lame.
"Yeah, uh, that's somewhere outside too, my bad."
You stretch your hands out in front of you, feeling for a cart, or a wall, anything to lead your way. Your fingers manage to graze over the wall, and you almost cry out in relief when you can vaguely tell where in the storage room you are. Pressing your back against the wall, you slide downwards to sit. You don't have a watch, or any indication of time for that matter, but you can tell it's going to be a long night in here.
So why not probe a little further?
"Well, Tetsu, since we'll be stuck here for a while anyways, what were you saying before?"
The way his nickname rolls off your tongue makes him reconsider giving up on his efforts, until the rest of your question ensues. Kuroo can make out where you are from your voice, and he too tries to feel for a wall of some sort to walk along. Instead of a wall, he walks straight into you and trips over, falling into a pile of old jerseys. He isn't even sure how you're sitting here with that chemical weapon right next to you, but this will have to make do for now. He settles himself down beside you, his hand pressing against the ground.
"Me?" Who else? The Boogeyman?
"No, me. Yes, obviously you, dumbass, before you locked us both into this place."
He is sure of one thing: He does not want to confess to you right now. He did, twenty minutes ago, but as of now, he doesn't. His eyes dart wildly from one place to another, looking between nothing in particular in the pitch black room. Fuck me! Kill me now! Put a stop to this never-ending suffering! You think those old jerseys might actually have fatal effects on the human body?
"Nothing, don't worry about it haha it's literally nothing." God he sounds so fucking stupid. Haha? Seriously? Like that's going to save him now?
"Alright, then, guess we'll just sit here in silence for however long it takes until someone finds us. It will probably be tomorrow morning, just letting you know. But that's fine." No, it is not fine. You're itching to know what he was going to say. You're really hoping it's what you thought he was going for, but being hopeful leads to getting locked in a storage room, sitting next to a potential biohazard for the next 13 or so hours.
The motion activated lights outside the storage room shut off, and you can tell that it's dark out by the way that no light seeps through the bottom of the door anymore. Your stomach rumbles, unaccustomed to running this empty at this time of day. If only you can find your phone, which is lying unceremoniously somewhere in this room, and order something. That is your main concern. Kuroo's main concern is something way bigger, and much, much harder to fix. He is locked in a pitch black room with his team manager, who he's been head over heels fawning over ever since they graced the club with their presence. His phone is somewhere outside, which is not ideal. Your phone is somewhere inside, but to find it, you would have to turn the lights on, which is clearly the most reasonable thing to do. Except the second you turn the lights on, you will be able to see how the red from Kuroo's face and neck is slowly, but surely seeping into his white t-shirt, the amount of red enough to begin staining the collar pink, which is also not ideal, and is in fact, much worse.
"God, what the fuck am I doing?" Kuroo's hands travel to his ears, and the tips are smoking hot. He cups them in his palms, before rubbing his face in agony. This was supposed to be easy, and cool, and he was supposed to walk out of the gym with a new girlfriend. Now, he's not even sure when he will get to walk out of this gym. Should he make some small talk? Lie on the ground and sleep? Try to find a bottle to piss in for the night?
"If you help me find my phone, we can order food, and I'm telling you right now I need that, so badly. Can you please just turn the fucking lights on, Tetsu? Please?"
He doesn't respond, partially because he's too scared to, and mostly because he's trying to think of what excuse he can vomit out for being piping red everywhere the second you flick the lights on. He can feel you standing up by the way that your knee makes that little clicking sound when you extend them, the little sound he's heard so many times before during packup. You take one step, two steps three steps, hands outstretched and feeling for the smooth plastic of the light switch. Just as the coolness hits your fingertips, you flick the switch on.
Click!
"I'm like, really into you."
Oh! This was definitely not what you expected! Fuck me! Kill me now! How do you keep it cool when he's sitting right there!
You don't spare a second in turning the lights back off, drowning the room in darkness again, this time to hide your own flushing face. You're supposed to spend the next 13 or so hours in here with this guy, and he's just dropped a bombshell onto you. Not to say you don't reciprocate, because you obviously do (who wouldn't?), but you have to admit, it's a little scary thinking about the possibility of it, and it's really scary when the possibility is confirmed, for better or for worse.
Meanwhile, the possibility has been confirmed for Kuroo, for the worse. Much, much worse. Was it that bad? Was he so pathetic in his antics, that the second he truly meant what he said, you had to shut the lights off? He should've just waited longer, for more signs, or more tells, anything. He should've waited until his chances were maximised, so that there was no margin of error, and he definitely should not have planned to lean on a wall so close to a door that unlocks from the outside. Instead of his carefully orchestrated confession going swimmingly, it is drowning, and it's kicking and flailing its arms and legs everywhere, gasping for air.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sorry. Wow! This is really fucking embarrassing! I need to die, like right now! Feel free to stay on that side of the room, you go girl!"
You try to stifle in a laugh, but it leaves your mouth before you can stop it. Typical Tetsuro, he just can't help but end everything with a joke. Time to test his sincerity.
"Alright, well what if..."
He can hear your footsteps approaching. He shuts his eyes, he's ready for anything. Kuroo has thick skin, he knows it. He's been hit more times that he can count in every single area of his body by the force of leather balls being struck by teenage boys, he's ready for it, trust guys! He's got this! In the bag! (The bag is a soggy paper bag that just broke from the bottom. Everything inside is rolling away from him on the ground.)
Instead of the stinging slap he's expecting, your extended hand brushes his shoulder, and then two hands cradle his face from the sides. The musty air of the storage room dissipates, and he smells chapstick instead, minty, almost unnoticeable. He braces himself. You're about to break his neck, he's sure of it, and honestly, that doesn't sound like too bad of an option right now.
"...I do this?"
Goodbye, beautiful world, and volleyball, and fans asking him to sign their tits. And most importantly of all, goodbye, you.
Then he tastes mint. It's a miracle that you even manage to find where his lips are in the pitch black darkness of the room, but a shot of luck works out in miraculous ways sometimes. This is one of those times. Kuroo has no idea what he's doing. Should his hands go on your waist? Or your face? Or your neck? Why is he thinking about those things right now, as if he can see where you are, and as if you aren't kissing him in the middle of the gym storage room? Fuck it, he just shuts his eyes and lets it happen, placing his hands wherever he can find you.
After all, he's Kuroo Tetsuro, and he just pulled his team manager by locking himself in a room with them on accident at 8pm on a Wednesday night.
"This was all a part of my masterplan, you just weren't aware of it."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tetsu."
“Oh, this definitely does.”
You pull him close by his collar, and you can feel the heat radiating off his face. You smirk, can’t have a guy like him getting too cocky.
“Don’t embarrass me, motherfucker.”
Kuroo grins at your threat. Never has he ever had to make his own confession, let alone receive a threat in response. To be fair, never has he ever been locked in the gym’s storage room with his team manager either. Truly a night of new experiences.
He thinks it’s hot. Like really hot. He might just embarrass you a little once every so often to hear you say it again.
“Whatever you say, princess.”
____________________________________________
Kenma comes in for morning practice the next day, and for once Kuroo is earlier than him, judging by the way that his duffel bag is slouched over the bench, and his regular sneakers are sitting beneath it. Coach has given him the spare keys to the storage room, just in case Kuroo has lost his set again. He goes to unlock the door, seeing that it's closed, which means Kuroo has definitely lost them.
He opens the door to the two of you asleep, half of your body sprawled on top of his, and one of his arms resting inside your shirt, right on the dip of your back, atop a pile of old, musty jerseys. He winces, not at the sight of the two of you finally together, but at the fact that you two have managed to fall asleep in the centre of a bioweapon.
author's note:
i cracked myself up so many times writing this you have no idea, and i hope i have cracked you up too as you read this.
here are the tags!
@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @bailey-reeds
will see you all in the next one, love u guys, bye bye
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#hq imagines#hq crack#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo testuro#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu oneshot#kuroo tetsuro fluff#haikyuu fluff#kuroo tetsuro imagine#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo fluff
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter eighteen ⭐︎ Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! smut smut smut, fluff, mentions of bullying, mentions of the upside down, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve takes another step towards you, one that might change everything, hopefully for the better.
Word count: 9.7k+
Author's note: always a pleasure working with @hellfire--cult hehe. we're getting closer to the best scenes roe ♡
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
♡
A shrill noise, distant ringing sounds through the house. You’re in and out of sleep as you try to register where the sound is coming from, you open your eyes to the bright lights coming from the TV in your living room, a groan falls from your lips and you squint your eyes when you feel the pain in your neck from the uncomfortable position you had fallen asleep in. You rub your tired eyes and turn your head to look at your best friend who is sleeping deeply on the other side of the couch, snoring loudly and completely unfazed by the flashing lights from the horror movie playing on your TV screen or the loud ringing of the telephone.
The obnoxious sound coming from the kitchen continues, forcing you to get up. You nearly trip over Eddie’s sneakers as you rush out of the living room and into the hallway, your mind is still sleeping, your eyes still tired, the ringing hurts your ears and you grab the receiver as soon as it’s in reach.
“Hello?” You grumble, leaning your head against the wall and closing your eyes again as you stand in the dark kitchen.
“Hey Blondie.”
The sweet sound of his voice fills your heart with life and your stomach with butterflies, your eyes shoot open and you instantly straighten your back.
“Steve?” Your voice only above a whisper as you hold the receiver a little tighter than before.
“Did I wake you, honey?” He murmurs, sending shivers down your spine with the raspiness in his voice. “I’m sorry if I did, I-I just wanted to hear your voice… I uh, I just dropped Robin off, we talked for a while.”
Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes widen.
He wanted to hear your voice.
He called just to hear your voice.
He makes your heart swell in your chest just with a few simple words, words that hold so much meaning to you.
But then you remember what happened only a few hours back.
And just like that the swelling and the warmth in your heart fleets away and anxiousness fills it instead.
What did they talk about?
Robin didn’t seem quite fond of you when you left his car earlier, the tone in her voice and the glare that she directed at you were proof of that.
What if she talked some sense into him and told him to stop seeing you, that you are both going nowhere with this?
“Oh…” You mutter, not knowing what else to say.
You play with the cord, wrapping it around your finger as you start bouncing your knee, waiting for his next words.
“Are you okay?” You add in concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay. She uh, she won’t say anything so… we can still… if you want?” He asks and clears his throat to hide the shakiness in his voice but you caught it. “Because I wanna keep doing it.”
If you want?
You’d keep going with this for the rest of your life if he wanted it, no matter how badly it hurts to be nothing but a little secret, not having him at all, would hurt so much more.
Relief follows quickly, despite the anxiety that still lingers but something tells you that Robin won’t be as accepting of it as Eddie is.
“I want to keep seeing you too, Steve.”
You hear his breathing, the way it stutters, the way it always does before a smile appears on his face. It makes your own lips curl into a smile as your shoulders relax and you slump against the wall.
“Good,” he whispers and you hope that you aren’t mishearing the happiness in his voice.
“Good,” you repeat after him, unable to fight the smile off your face.
You want to ask how the conversation went, what she asked, what she wanted to know but you don’t want to ruin this moment between you.
You can leave it for another time, you can wait, just like you always do.
“Is Eddie still there?”
“Yeah, he passed out on the couch and I’m afraid he’ll wake up with a stiff neck tomorrow.”
Steve’s chuckle makes your stomach flutter again.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
You nod with a smile on your face, “yeah.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come home with you,” he murmurs after a moment of silence.
“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying not to sigh, trying not to show how sad you are that he isn’t here with you. The nights you spent alone in your bed are long over. “You needed to talk to Robin…”
He is silent, for a long moment he says nothing and only breathes as he stands in his kitchen, the only source of light coming from the small lamp on the counter, he stares into nothing as he contemplates asking if he can come over because he doesn’t want to spend the night without you, he doesn’t want to go to sleep without the warmth of your body atop of his, your soft breathing on his skin and your hands holding onto him as you unknowingly cling to him in your sleep, he doesn’t want to miss it, not even for a single night.
“Steve?”
Your voice sounds like a blessing to his ears now, the emotions that rush through him are no longer confusing him.
“Yes?”
He waits for you to speak but you are hesitating, only your soft breathing sounds through the phone. He hopes that you’ll ask him to come, he hopes that he can wrap his arms around you tonight, after all.
“... Eddie ate your pringles.”
He raises his brows and tilts his head to the side, this is not what he wanted to hear but he can’t help but laugh.
“And your butterscotch ice cream too.”
He leans his head against the wall behind him, a smile of amusement appearing on his face.
“I had to hide your kitkat’s so he wouldn’t eat them too.”
He closes his eyes and listens to your voice, waiting for you to continue. You could talk about anything to him, literally anything – gossip, music, make-up, clothes and shoes, the weather or some random movie he has never seen, he’ll happily listen to you.
“But he found them…” You say with a giggle, “I don’t know where all that food is going! Did you see how many burgers he ate at Hopper’s?”
No, no he really didn’t pay attention to your best friend, he was too busy watching you.
“He might have a hole in his stomach.”
You chuckle, “he might, yeah, or he just gets the worst munchies after he gets high.”
“Yeah, speaking of, we haven’t done that in a while.”
The last time you got high together, you didn’t get the munchies, no, you got something entirely else, something much more satisfying. It started with slow kissing, soft touches and desperate moans, you made out and undressed each other, you marked his skin and he did the same to yours and left them in places only he could see, he sank to his knees and unraveled you with his tongue, he tore out the sweetest sighs and the prettiest moans from you and now that he thinks back to that moment, he can’t help but wonder what exactly he was high on, drugs or you?
“What, getting high? We should do that but we’ll have to buy new snacks first, Eddie ate all your favorite ones and I definitely need to stock up on chips and candy but whenever I get high I just want to eat pizza and pasta and uh… I should probably stop talking about food or else I’ll get hungry again,” you murmur the last part and place a hand on your stomach when you feel it grumbling.
He smiles fondly and an idea pops in his head.
"Pasta, huh?" He mumbles as he takes a look around his kitchen, “you’re staying with me tomorrow night, right?”
“...If you still want me to, yes.”
After his realization, he wouldn’t even mind you staying with him permanently and these thoughts swirl inside his head in full honesty.
“I do want you to,” he nods even though you aren’t there to see, “well, I promised that I’d cook for you, remember?”
Your cheeks heat up at his words and the permanent smile on your face grows bigger.
“Mhm.”
“Let me cook for you tomorrow night, Blondie.”
You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back the grin as giddiness rushes through your bones, making you unable to stand still.
“I won’t say no to that, Steve.”
Steve’s cheeks almost hurt from the grin on his lips as he heard the excitement in your voice, his own growing bigger and bigger as he already begins to count down the minutes until you’re back in his arms and here with him, hearing your voice isn’t enough, he needs to see you, to feel you, he needs you by his side.
But for now, this will have to do.
You both talk, not minding the late hour in the slightest as you both stand in your kitchen’s and giggle into your phones, feeling like teenagers all over again, each of you wearing lovesick smiles on your faces and happiness in your eyes, fluttering feelings in your hearts and in your stomachs – reactions and feelings now mutual and no longer one sided.
Your teenage self would stare in awe if she saw you now, the happiest smile would play on her lips, she might even be jumping around.
King Steve would be… surprised but maybe not unpleasantly so, there was more to him than he ever wanted to admit.
Steve knows it now.
When he hears your giggle, that sweet sound that lights up everything inside of him now, he knows.
He never wants to miss your laughter again, he never wants to miss your voice, he never wants to miss you. He doesn’t even want to hang up the phone, not even when you make the promise that you will call him again with the phone upstairs in your room, when your makeup is off and you’re comfortable under your warm covers.
And you, you rush out of the kitchen the moment you hang up the phone, with a fluttering heart and huge smile on your face, you make your way back into the living room, despite knowing you’ll be unsuccessful in waking your best friend and trying to get him into the guest room.
A part of you feels relieved to see him asleep though – you don’t need him to see your blushing face.
He is snoring into one of the pillows, his bangs covering his eyes, he is taking over the entire couch now, his knee angled weirdly as his arm hangs down, fingers grazing the carpet. You chuckle to yourself and step towards him, you lean down and wrap a gentle hand around his wrist, bringing his arm back up so he won’t deal with any soreness in the morning. You reach for a blanket and place it over his body before you turn off the TV.
And as you quickly make your way upstairs, rushing into your bathroom to brush your teeth and take your makeup off, Steve is already in bed, staring at the phone on his nightstand, waiting for your call.
With his arms tucked behind his head, the covers over his body, he feels warmth surrounding him as your smell lingers in his room, on the covers and the sheets, the pillow that is now yours – your side of the bed empty to his dismay, it almost feels weird to lay here without you when only months back, this was all he knew, an empty bed that he had never shared with anyone until you stepped into his life and came to steal his heart.
And he never wants to share it with anyone else again, only you.
The ringing of the phone doesn’t even last for two seconds before he picks it up and speaks your name into the receiver, earning a breathy chuckle from you.
“Missed me?”
He hears the rustling of your sheets and how you try to get comfortable in your bed – oh, how he wishes he was there with you.
“Mhmm thought you went to sleep without me,” he murmurs into the phone as he pulls at the cord of the telephone and turns on his side, sinking his face into your pillow and breathing in your scent.
“Without talking your ear off first? Never.” You joke.
Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “you can talk my ear off anytime, honey. Tell me about your day.”
“We spent half of the day together.”
“Exactly, half.” He says as a yawn escapes him and his eyes grow tired, lashes beginning to flutter. “And half of that day was spent listening to the teens bickering.”
“Okay, yeah you’re right,” you say with a smile on your face and sink deeper into the side that you don’t usually sleep on, you breathe in the cologne that lingers on your pillow and close your eyes as you start talking about anything that comes to mind, the movie you watched with Eddie, the shopping trip you went on with El and Max a few days back, the pretty necklace you saw in the small jewelry shop downtown, the flowers that started growing in your garden, your niece and how much you miss her.
A smile tugs at his lips and he feels calmness in his chest, your voice makes him feel safe, so safe that it lulls him into sleep only minutes later as he lies in bed surrounded by the smell of you and the sweetest sound in his ear.
And you don’t notice at first, continuing to ramble about something completely unimportant before you register the utter silence on the other line.
“Stevie?”
A light snore echoes, making you giggle when you realize that he had fallen asleep.
You hold the receiver tighter in your hand and hold the covers against your chest, closing your eyes and staying on the line, listening to his breathing. You wish you could be with him, lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat instead.
“Good night,” you whisper softly, though wishing you could say something else, something more.
-
Music plays in the background, some Tears for Fears song. The mouthwatering smell of food lingers in the air, making your stomach grumble in anticipation, you sip on your cold white wine as you watch him with a smile on your face and blushing cheeks.
He looks good, he always does but there is something more about him tonight, perhaps it’s the way he looks so sexy in his tight fitted black tank top and his Levi’s, arms sunkissed and his freckles and moles on full display for you, his hair messy yet styled perfectly or maybe it’s that slight rosy color in his cheeks along with the glowing in his eyes, the look of happiness deeply etched into his soft features or maybe it’s the fact that he is cooking for you.
All day you had been so nervous, you paced around the house and busied yourself with cleaning and organizing drawers and your closet, feeling as though you were waiting on a date when you don’t even know what it feels like to go on one. This isn’t a date, no matter how much it felt like it when you started preparing for the night, when you took your sweet time washing your hair and scrubbing your skin soft, shaving and moisturizing every part of your body, putting makeup on your face and curlers into your hair, you painted your nails his favorite color and put on a dress that you wished would make him swoon.
And it did, it does make him swoon, everything about you now does.
You nearly knocked him off his feet when you appeared on his doorstep in this pretty new outfit that shows off your beautiful body and your soft skin that he craves to feel on his constantly. For the first time, Steve didn’t want to rip it off of you and take you, he found himself wishing to take it off slowly, kiss every inch of you softly and feel you in a whole new way, and he told himself he would, that he would take his time with you tonight, though it felt hard to keep his hands to himself when you walked through the door, he wanted nothing more than to pull you against him and kiss you breathless but not yet, he told himself, not yet.
“It smells so good already,” you smile, watching how he stirs the sauce as you breathe in the smell of garlic and cheese.
“Just wait until you taste it,” he winks at you.
“So cocky,” you tease him with a chuckle, taking a sip of your wine before you step closer to him.
“Well, you always love my breakfasts, honey,” he murmurs, putting the spatula down and checking on the pasta before he turns his body to you, looking you up and down with a lick of his lips. He steps closer to you and reaches his hand out to touch your waist, tearing a shaky breath out of you.
You gulp. The smell of his cologne, the touch of his hand nearly cause your knees to buckle – it’s almost funny how your body still reacts like this, after everything you have done together, you still blush, you still swoon, your heart still flutters.
Steve bites his lip as his eyes look at your own, his hand reaches for the glass in your hand and he takes it from you, putting it down on the counter before he grabs your waist with both hands, taking you by surprise when he picks you up with ease, his lips curl into a smirk when a small gasp escapes you and you clasp your hands around his biceps, holding on tightly, even when he places you on the counter, you still hold onto him. He pushes your legs apart a little, letting his hands move from your waist to your thighs as he steps between them.
You suck in a sharp breath, your cheeks are burning under his gaze, your skin heating up beneath his palms as his fingers disappear underneath your dress.
His lashes kiss his skin as he keeps blinking, his hazel eyes gazing into yours so differently than usual and it drives your heart crazy.
But despite how bad you want to let yourself fall into delusions that there might be something other than lust in his eyes at this very moment, you have to remind yourself of what this is and what this isn’t supposed to be.
“Mhm, your breakfasts are very good,” you nod, “but who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever cook dinner for me, a fancy one too.”
Steve chuckles, leaning much much closer and deciding to make your insides tingle even worse than before when he brings his hand up towards your face and tucking the fallen strand of hair behind your ear.
“Who would’ve thought that you would ever sit on my kitchen counter?” He teases, tilting his head to the side as his hand slips down your body and grabs at your hip. “I think your teenage self would gasp and glare at the you now.”
A giggle falls from your lips, you shake your head – he couldn’t be more wrong.
“Yeah, and King Steve would pour the wine over your head if he saw you cooking dinner for his number one enemy.”
Steve chuckles.
“Enemy,” he repeats after you as his eyes crinkle in amusement, “that’s cute.”
Does he know what his words do to you?
Does he know what his touch causes?
Does he know that your heart feels as though it will beat out of your chest after every small act of his?
Because something inside of you, tells you that he is starting to know. His touch is softer, his eyes are too.
“Cute?” You smirk and speak out confidently even though your palms grow sweaty and you suddenly feel shy beneath his gaze. “You think us being mean to each other was cute?”
Steve shakes his head at you and to your disappointment, he steps away and returns back to the stove that he turns off after checking on the pasta. He reaches for a towel and wraps it around the handles of the pot, taking it off the stove, he steps further away from you and towards the sink.
“No, you thinking that we were enemies is cute.”
You press your palms against the counter and tilt your head to the side, your hair that he just tucked behind your ear, falling back in front of your face. You squint your eyes at him as a curious smile appears on your lips. “Were we not?” You ask, wondering what he saw you as during one of your worst times in your life.
“I don’t think you’d be sitting here in this cute little dress if you were,” he smirks, winking at you before he turns away from you to drain the water from the pot, tilting his head back to avoid the steam.
And you are grateful that he isn’t looking at you right now, the heat in your cheeks worsens and you suddenly don’t know what to do with your hands.
You’re no stranger to Steve’s flirting, but it’s usually a little less intimate and under circumstances different from these, usually his flirty comments are there just to get in your pants – at least that’s what you think.
“So… what was I then?” You ask, trying to keep yourself together, trying not to show how nervous his behavior is making you today.
Steve places the pot back on the stove and he throws the towel over his shoulder and glances at you, a striking feeling cursing through him and catching him off guard. The evening sun is still high in the sky, shining through the windows and casting a golden glow over the kitchen and over you, kissing your beautiful skin and your shiny hair, the pretty color in your eyes glowing just like the rosy blush you put on your cheeks, the color matching your lipstick and the little dainty flowers on your dress, your lashes flutter every time you blink, your lips parting as you watch him with a cute look of curiosity in your features, your chest rises up and down softly, he can see the way your breathing stutters the longer you look at him though, it makes his lip twitch into a soft smile.
He feels the beat of his heart, the fluttering and the sensation that has him in a chokehold, you steal his breath away, all the goddamn time, even when you’re not near, just the thought of you, the reminder of your touch and the image of you beneath his body is enough to nearly sink him to his knees.
He stares at you, finding himself unable to look away and snap back.
You look angelic under this golden light and he can’t stop from drinking you in, his eyes taking in every spot on your face, every feature, every edge, every curve – features he once thought were so sharp and shadowed by meanness are actually nothing close to that.
You are soft, you are so gentle and vulnerable, nothing close to the girl he once thought you were.
You showed him a side of you only the closest ones get to see. He should’ve known it was there, even before knowing you.
He should’ve known when you jumped in to help fight against Vecna, when you were so protective over Max and Lucas, when you jumped in after him and saved him from the bats despite being a stranger of the horrors that waited for you on the other side, when you put a comforting hand on Eddie’s when he seemed anxious days and weeks after you were both released from the hospital, when he saw the sadness in your eyes after your fight during that one game night, when he saw how you treated your niece and the fourth of july – the night that changed everything.
You were always right there, right before his eyes, always in reach yet never close enough to actually see.
But now he sees you, the real you that you still try to bury underneath that rough exterior that is slowly crumbling, more and more, little by little.
“Steve?” Your unsure voice calls out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the kitchen. You are staring at him, a flustered expression deep in your features as you look into his eyes.
He doesn’t shy away from you, from the fact that he’s been caught staring as he lost himself in his thoughts.
“Sorry… What? Got– I got a little lost there a bit.”
You clear your throat, surprised by his words, you straighten your back and blink.
“W-What were we… if we weren’t enemies?”
Steve watches the way your lips move, the way you shift on the counter and pull your hands on your lap where your dress rides up the slightest bit, the way your perfume makes him want to bury his face in your neck and inhale more of it, the way you seem to become prettier and prettier, each passing second.
He has to force himself to look away from you so he can come up with the right words. He cranes his neck and looks up at the ceiling, squinting his eyes and pursing his lips.
“Well…”
What were you to each other?
What were you to him?
Steve truly never saw you as an enemy, he didn’t like you, he couldn’t stand you for reasons he only now begins to see and understand, but you were never once his enemy.
“I wanted to rip your hair out sometimes,” he jokes, making you chuckle, “but… I never wanted to make your life miserable. We weren’t in the same… groups or mindsets… but that never made us enemies.”
A surprised but soft chuckle escapes you as you look up at him, your eyes trailing from his face to his neck where the hickeys that you have left are so visible to you.
You believe him.
As mean as he could be, there was never an evil side to him that wanted people to suffer or feel bad. Though you did feel miserable because of him but it was never Steve’s fault, it was your own, only your heart was to blame. If it didn’t get so attached to him, if it wasn’t his from the moment you laid your cynical eyes on him, his actions and words wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest, you would’ve brushed them off, you would’ve brushed him off, but you couldn’t, you were done for.
But even if you could change it, if you could take your heart back and change your own feelings, you wouldn’t have done it, not even back then when you suffered nothing but sadness and heartache. Maybe you’re a masochist, or maybe just a hopeless romantic with too much hidden hope – hope that you yourself didn’t even want to admit to having, not until recently.
“Hmm,” you hum and hook your finger around his belt, pulling him closer and between your legs, “and what am I to you now?”
Your question catches him off guard once more, the look in your eyes so hopeful, though his own cannot see because the panic in him rises so quickly that it steals his breath away.
What are you to him?
What are you both to each other?
He wishes you were his, he wants you to be his, and after last night’s realization, after seeing what he’s been craving all along, he wants you to be his girl, his only, tonight and for always.
He doesn’t want this to be a short summer, he doesn’t want this to be a temporary relationship – he wants more, he wants a future, a future with you.
But what do you want?
What can he say to you when he only wants one thing?
Steve knows exactly what to say, but he can’t give you the truth now, can he?
He doesn’t want to ruin this, this night or this thing between you – he needs to find out more, he needs to be more sure before he risks something.
“You’re my… friend.”
You try not to flinch at that word, you try to hide the pain in your eyes and the physical reaction from the stab in your heart.
Of course this is what you are to him.
A friend.
“We’re friends,” he whispers.
And you don’t even notice just how forced his own words come out of his mouth, how his eyes shift and the excitement leaves his features for a moment, how he doesn’t seem fond of his own answer.
The bitterness on your tongue spreads and you have to reach for your glass of wine to take a sip and swallow it down.
Tension rises between you but only for a moment because you both refuse to let a few words ruin this night for you.
“Friends,” you nod and you too miss the way he flinches now, the way he scrunches his eyes as though pangs of pain hit him out of nowhere, the way he still places his hands on your thighs, the way a friend definitely shouldn’t.
But you aren’t really friends are you?
Because friends aren’t supposed to be this close and look at each other so longingly, they shouldn’t reach for one another the moment they’re close enough to touch, they shouldn’t meet up in secret to spend nights together and sit at dinner tables with each other, stare at one another with shiny eyes and giddy smiles as their hearts beat in sync through every emotion, they shouldn’t stare at each others lips and wait for the right moment to kiss, their fingers shouldn’t touch while they’re eating their dinner.
And they certainly shouldn’t do this.
Your lips are locked with his, you are kissing each other feverishly, your fingers are lost in his hair, his are digging into your sides as he pushes you towards his bed, not once did he break the kiss on the way up to the second floor, despite the giggles that threatened to escape when you both tripped a few times.
Your heart is beating strongly against your ribcage, your skin feels hotter than ever as moans echo through his room.
Steve’s lips mold against yours so perfectly, his hands hold you so tightly yet so gently and something feels so different today, feelings that are much more intense than usual are on overdrive tonight, something in the way he holds you feels so raw, so real.
When your head hits the pillows and his chest presses against yours as he hovers over you, you remove your hands from his hair and slip them down his chest, reaching for the hem of his shirt, though to your surprise, he grabs your hands, gently, he pins them down but not harshly, the tips of his fingers brushing against your palms and when he breaks the kiss, you look up in confusion, not understanding why he stopped you, why he slowed you down.
“What…?” You mumble.
Steve can’t help but smile at the cute frown on your face, your lips are puffy, your hair is a mess already.
He feels nervousness rushing through his body but more so, he feels anticipation.
“I want to try something new tonight,” he whispers before he presses another kiss to your lips, surprising you with the softness of it. “Is that okay?”
You nod and whisper a small ‘yes’ despite not knowing what he means by that.
“Do you trust me?” He asks as though he doesn’t hold your heart in the palm of his hand, as though you wouldn’t follow him blindly into anything.
You don’t know what this means, how far he will take things tonight, how rough he will get or what the new thing is that he seemingly feels desperate to try but you would say yes to anything when it comes to him.
“I do,” you say only above a whisper.
His lip twitches at that, his eyes lighten up and he wastes no time to connect his lips to yours again, closing his eyes and getting lost in it, in you.
He realizes just how intimate all of this is, this night, these touches, yours and his words, and it’s all he wished for, all that he ever wanted, all that he craved and longed for.
Before you, he saw a faceless woman by his side as he yearned for a deep connection, a kind of love he never experienced before, one that would not only bring him back to life but also consume him in every shape and form. He waited and waited, met new girls and took one after the other out, date after date and no future was still in sight until he had gotten so desperate that he had made peace with the fact that there was only one he had something real with – but even that was false, her love was never real, it was nothing but a delusion to him and he realized that his feelings weren’t real either, at least during his second try, they were only the result of desperation and loneliness.
And he knows, he knows that this might not be real either, that you might not feel the same, that you might never feel the same but he doesn’t really care, especially not in this moment, when your fingers dig into his hair again and your lips move with his so naturally, so softly, like it’s the only thing meant to be.
Your moans, your smell, your taste and your body beneath him makes him feel things he had never felt before. To feel you clinging to him and kissing him with so much passion makes his heart scream in joy, the heart that only beats for you now.
Your tongues meet as his fingers pull the straps of your dress down your arms, grazing your skin with his touch, pulling out whimpers from you that shoot straight through him, making everything feel so much hotter. His palm slips down your chest and your waist before it falls to your hip where your dress had already ridden up to, his hand disappears under it but instead of reaching for your panties to yank them down your legs the way he usually would do, he just lets it rest there for a moment, needing to feel your warm, bare skin underneath his hand.
Your chest rises up and down heavily, it’s pressed against his and he can feel how strongly your heart is beating, matching the pace of his own.
He feels how desperate you are getting as you grab at his hair harder than before, bucking your hips up to meet his and he grants you your wish, grinding his erection against your core, he makes you both moan in pleasure.
And when your lips break apart and you call out his name, Steve nearly crumbles.
He leans down to kiss your neck and you tilt your head to the side, almost immediately, welcoming him to mark your skin up with love bites, and he does, his lips meet your skin, over and over again, kissing softly and sucking gently, he then moves down to your collarbone, leaving no spot unkissed.
You pull your brows together so strongly, overwhelmed by his gentle touches and the feeling of his lips kissing you this way but you can only close your eyes and moan for him, savoring this very moment.
“Steve…” You whimper as you feel the hot sensation flushing through you and burning in your core.
He takes your dress off slowly, not quickly or desperately, he takes his time slipping it down your body. His large hand grabs at your hip, his fingers playing with the thin material of your panties as his lips are still latched onto your collarbone, that he pulls away from to take a look at you.
There you lie beneath him in nothing but your matching underwear, your eyes hooded and filled with emotions you usually hide, your puffy lips are parted, your cheeks are flushed, you furrow your brows in need as you look up at him with pleading eyes.
He sucks in a shaky breath as his heart skips several beats, your beauty, your soft skin, your smell, the look in your eyes all being too much for his poor heart.
He is so genuinely done for – there is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, all you have to do is look at him with these eyes and he’d do anything you’d ask him to.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, unable to hold himself back with words a friend shouldn’t say with such emotions.
He misses the way your eyes widen and fill with surprise as he pushes his hands under your back so he can unclasp your lilac colored bra, he throws the lace down on the floor where your dress is lying.
He kisses your chest and wraps his plush lips around your nipple, his hands slip down your stomach and he hooks his finger around your panties, removing them slowly.
You look down at him, your heart unable to find calmness as everything he does, drives you crazy tonight. A gasp tears from your parted lips when he slips his fingers through your wet folds, teasing your entrance before he brings his digits up to your clit.
“S-Steve,” you moan as you bring your hand down to his hair, digging your fingers through it and gripping it tightly.
He meets your eyes and you watch how he kisses down your body, softly, gently, slowly and not tearing his eyes away from your face, he keeps looking, staring at you as his lips trail kisses down your chest, your stomach, your hip bones.
Is that what friends do?
Steve spreads your thighs and he lies down before you, he moves his palm from your knee to your hip, throwing one leg over his shoulder before he leans in closer to kiss your inner thighs, truly leaving no spot unkissed.
You swallow harshly, unable to figure out what to do with yourself when he handles you so carefully, so… lovingly, almost as though he could feel something other than lust for you.
You blink and stare in anticipation, breathy whines keep falling from your lips, the fluttering in your stomach growing stronger and stronger.
You lean on your elbows, not wanting to look away from him just yet. His hair is messy from your tugging, his cheeks are pink, his eyes dark and filled with something you cannot read.
He looks so pretty between your thighs.
Steve leans into you, licking his lips before he presses the tip of his tongue to your entrance, slipping it through your folds and bringing it up to your clit where he wraps his lips around it and starts sucking teasingly.
Your breath hitches in your throat, your brows furrowing even more than before as you grip his hair tightly.
He gives no time to react before he holds on tighter and begins to eat you out, hungrily yet softly. His movements are slow and sensual, his moans vibrate against you.
His name falls from your lips over and over again as your head sinks deeper into his pillows, everything about this brings you a pleasure you haven’t felt before, it’s so much more intense than usual.
“You always taste so good, baby,” he murmurs against you, nudging his nose against your clit as he slips his tongue into you, catching you off guard with his words and the sudden action.
His free hand slipping back up to your chest, he pinches your nipple and rolls it with his thumb before he grabs your breast.
“Don’t stop,” you breathe as you throw your hand over his, feeling out of control with your emotions when you slip your fingers through his and keep his hand there – right over your beating heart.
Steve moans approvingly, squeezing your hand as he deepens all his movements, adding his fingers as he continues on pleasuring you with his mouth – a kind of pleasure you both get lost in. Moans and whimpers echo through the room, you pant and breathe heavily as waves crash over your body and you get closer and closer to the edge he never fails to bring you to.
Watery eyes meet his soft ones, your fingers now molding together, your hips rising up to grind against his face as he unravels you. You see the way he is moving, the way his own hips grind against the mattress to find some sort of relief, his moans are just as desperate as yours.
His chin glistens with your slickness and he keeps moaning as though you’re the sweetest thing he ever tasted – and you are, you are the sweetest thing he ever tasted on his tongue, touching and feeling you this way burns everything in him and he can’t help but want more of it.
“You’re so close, I can feel it,” he murmurs against you, pressing kisses to your sensitive nub as his fingers curl deeply inside of you, the tips grazing that very spot that makes you whine his name so cutely.
You dig your nails into his skin as you still hold onto his hand, your other is still lost in his hair, gripping and tugging at it as the fire burns in your core, everything flutters inside of you. You blink through your tears and keep your eyes on him, watching the way he licks and sucks on your clit, the way he looks so content doing this.
You try to speak though your words get lost when he speeds up his movements, making you shut your eyes in pleasure as your jaw falls slack.
His long fingers slamming in and out of you, joined by his tongue again, he shakes his head from side to side, his nose nudging against your clit over and over again.
“Open your eyes,” he murmurs against you, his voice adding vibrations, “look at me, I want to see your eyes.”
You oblige, despite the tears that pool in your eyes, you do your best to grant him his wish.
“Just like that, good girl,” he hums and hits that spot inside of you, causing your whole body to tense up and your cries to fill the room. He doesn’t stop there, not even when your body falls limp and your heavy breathing along with the sensitive whimpers sounds through the room now.
Steve licks you through your high, moaning in delight and kissing your clit just to tease you, making you jerk and whimper.
“Please,” you whisper, looking at him with your teary, pleading eyes.
He pulls away but only to take his clothes off, finally, you were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t even notice just how much clothing was still on his body.
He tears his tank top off and throws it down on the floor, unbuckling his belt next and practically tearing down his jeans and boxers, letting his aching dick slap against his stomach, his tip red and leaking, his length twitching as it did the whole time he was eating you out, he nearly busted before, the sensation of it all tonight, being too overwhelming and it’s hard to keep himself together when he looks down at your pretty face and your bare body, your pussy glistening and so ready for him.
He could stare at you for hours but he feels so desperate to feel you, to be inside of you, he presses his palms against your knees and spreads them further apart, he settles in between them and leans down before you, looking deeply into your eyes after pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
He isn’t blind or unaware of the way your breathing stutters in your throat, the way you gulp and stare in confusion as you stare into his eyes.
And then, you raise yourself up a little, propping yourself up on your elbow as you slip your hand down his stomach, making him breathe in harshly as his heart skips a beat. In lust, he watches the way you slip your own fingers through your slick folds, gathering your wetness before you bring your hand up to his cock, wrapping your hand around it, you start stroking him slowly, making him whimper at the feeling. He grips the sheets beneath you and watches the way your much smaller hand moves around him, the way you tease his slit with your thumb, making him shudder over you.
“F-Fuck,” he whispers, trying not to close his eyes but this drives him crazy, the intimacy of it all making it all feel so much better, “just like that, baby.”
A tiny noise, something close to a whimper falls from your lips thanks to the nickname he started giving you on occasions.
“That feels so good,” he moans as he continues to watch, finding it hard to control himself, “are you ready for me?” He asks as his eyes move up your body before they meet yours again.
You nod quickly and buck your hips up, teasing both him and yourself when you slide the crown of his dick through your sensitive folds before you guide him into your entrance. He instantly reaches for your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he feels your warmth sucking him in, your wet walls gripping at him despite not being fully inside yet. He watches your face, the way it scrunches up in pleasure, the way your jaw falls slack and your eyes stay glued on him as you watch the way his cock disappears inside of you. He listens to your moans and feels the way you hold onto his shoulders tightly the moment he takes control.
“Steve!”
His heart could beat through his bones and rip through his skin at this moment and he wouldn’t care.
He needs more, he needs you closer, he pushes in deeper and deeper, splitting you open and making you both whimper. He stills once he’s fully inside, letting out a shaky breath when he feels you pulsating around him.
You breathe heavily, he can feel it, your chest is flush against his, he’s got you close, just like he wanted you.
“S-Steve,” you repeat his name in a whisper, feeling overwhelmed by your emotions, by all those feelings, by this and yet you want more, you crave more, you crave him. You muster up all your strength and wrap your legs around his waist.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, surprising you for yet another time this night when he moves both his hands up your body, one slipping from your shoulder to your wrist and then to your hand, lying his palm flat against yours, he cups your cheek with his other hand, sliding it across your jawline as he tilts your head up so he can see your eyes, so he can gaze into them.
You feel as though your frown might stay permanent on your face after tonight, but everything he does confuses you, even more so when slips his fingers through the gaps in yours and intertwines them together, holding your hand tighter than ever before as he leans his forehead against yours.
His breath mingles with yours, his nose nudges against yours and your lips touch but he doesn’t kiss you yet, he squeezes your hand as he pulls out and pushes back in, stealing your breath away.
Everything about this feels so deep, so intimate, you feel vulnerable tonight with the way he handles you so differently.
Tears of pleasure and love prickle in your eyes and you suddenly find it hard to keep your emotions down, especially when he closes his eyes and he kisses you as though it’s the only thing he is meant to do. His palm rests against your jawline as his fingers get lost in your hair. Your moans match his own as he starts rolling his hips, slowly and deeply.
Your hands cling to each other, your chests are pressed together, he slides in and out of you, his tip hitting and rubbing against the spot that tears out sounds from you that you never made with anyone else before.
As deep and hungry as the kiss is, you want to feel him closer, so after swallowing down the confusion and leaving the questions for another time, you bring him closer by sliding your free hand down his back, stroking his skin and grazing it with your nails, you grab his ass and dig your fingers into his skin, causing him to moan even louder as he thrusts deeper.
You feel the shudders that grip at your body, the hot waves and the fire that burns within you, your heart that threatens to burst at the way it fills with even more love for the man panting above you, moaning just for you, because of you.
Even when he breaks the kiss, he doesn’t move away from your lips, keeping his against yours as he opens his eyes again to look at you while his hips move faster and he fucks into you deeper.
Steve strokes the top of your hand with his thumb, his other hand still resting on your jaw, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he looks at you so differently and it makes you want to cry, you are too overwhelmed, too sensitive, too vulnerable to feel such hopeful feelings when you know damn well that you could lose this and him any moment but how can you not hope when he looks at you as though you’re something worth loving, when he whispers your name as though it comes from his heart, when he pecks your lips and nuzzles his nose to yours.
No words are spoken, your touches and the eye contact are enough tonight, everything he could speak with his words are written in his eyes.
But everything that lies on the tip of your tongue, threatens to spill the closer you get and the longer he looks at you this way.
I love you. I love you. I love you, you scream in your mind, not knowing that these words match the ones in his mind.
Tears slip down your cheeks, tears that Steve kisses away with his lips as he holds you tighter and pulls you closer as his hips meet yours and he thrusts in deeper, his hand only letting go of your jaw so he can slip it down your stomach and touch you between your thighs, he catches your moan in a feverish kiss as his fingers rub at your sensitive nub.
Your tongues clash together and your lips move sensually and roughly as he moves faster, making himself whimper in need.
This isn’t the first time that Steve discovers something with you, but this makes him live through something entirely new, he had never felt anything like this before, he had never felt his heart race so fastly in his chest, he had never felt this kind of heat, this kind of fire burning in his whole body, nearly overwhelming him and making him cry too.
His newfound feelings make this experience even more pleasurable, to hear your moans and to feel you clinging to his shaking body, to know that he is the one who is getting to touch you and feel you like this makes him feel… special.
He wants you, he wants you in every way possible.
He can feel his heart yearning for you, yearning for more with you, he can hear it screaming your name.
Steve loves you, god, he loves you so much that his feelings nearly crush him.
He wants you to know, he needs you to know but his fears hold him back and he swallows them down, begrudgingly so.
If only he knew that you would cry tears of joy if he told you those three little words.
If only you knew that this isn’t just sex, that this is something else, that he is making love to you.
When you both reach your peak and you come undone, gasping and crying out in pleasure, you keep kissing, you don’t stop, despite the lack of air in your lungs, you keep kissing, you keep moving, you want more and more, you don’t want this moment to end.
You can feel the shift of emotions, his touches feel so different than they did before, his hands and lips linger a little longer, his eyes look at you in a way that has your own skipping and fluttering.
He keeps his fingers entwined with yours, even when he is no longer inside of you and chasing after his high, even when the moment is long over, he keeps holding your hand, he pulls you on top of him now, covering your lower half with the thin covers.
And now it’s you who cups his cheek to kiss him, sliding your fingers down his jawline and moving your lips against his, nuzzling your nose against his just the way he did before.
Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, playing with your hair and stroking your soft skin, smiling into the kiss as he gets lost in the feeling of love, a kind of love he never felt before.
Sweat shines on Steve’s forehead, his hair clinging to his skin, his cheeks more flushed than before, he is humming into the kiss, feeling every happy emotion flushing through him as you make noises that leave his stomach with butterflies.
You break the kiss with a soft giggle as you watch him chasing after your lips.
He puckers his lips, begging for another kiss and how could you say no to him?
You lean in again, not bothering to tuck your hair away when it falls in front of your face. You kiss his lips, only shortly, but enough to satisfy him.
“Hmm, I might have to do this more often,” he murmurs and cups the back of your head when you lay your head on his chest.
“Do what?” You ask as you loosen your grip on his hand and lay your palm flat against his, taking in the sight of how much larger his is.
“Cook for you, you got all soft on me, Blondie,” he whispers and plays with your fingers, lacing them together with yours, making your heart flutter yet again.
Your lips part and you raise your brows as you look at him, “oh, I got soft on you?”
He is teasing you, you can see it, the way his lips tug into a smirk and his eyes flash with amusement.
“Mhmm,” he nods, “got all sweet and adorable on me tonight, I can’t even remember what it’s like to deal with your mean side – not that I don’t like your mean side, I clearly do, turns me on, if I’m being honest.”
A surprised giggle falls from your lips.
It makes his heart flutter now, his eyes crinkle as a bigger smile appears on his face.
“You’re kind of a dork, you know?” You whisper and rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him, starry eyed. “I almost don’t remember your sassy side.”
“Sassy?” He raises his eyebrows at you.
“Mhmm, you’re sassy, Lego head.”
He chuckles softly, “Lego head, you haven’t used that in a while.”
You giggle again and reach your left hand up to touch his hair, brushing away the curls that are stuck to his forehead.
“It's certainly very unique," he snorts, making you laugh and his eyes only light up further at the sound.
You don’t see the way he looks at you, you never really do but the awestruck look in his eyes is so hard to miss.
“Can I ask you something?” He whispers as he rests his palm along your jaw, tucking your hair behind your ear as his hazel eyes trace your features.
“Of course,” you whisper back.
He blinks, taking a moment to speak up again, his cheeks still glowing pink underneath the golden light from the small lamp on his desk.
“What’d you think of me when we first met?” He murmurs, blushing. “When we were teens… I mean…”
His thumb grazes your bottom lip, he touches you so softly, so gently as he looks at you with patience.
Your heart jumps in your chest, panic spreading around it as you repeat the question in your mind.
Oh Steve, if only you knew, you think to yourself as you stare at him, taking him in and how he looks at you.
No one’s ever looked at you this way.
No one’s ever touched you this way.
No one’s ever made you feel emotions that probably kept you alive during your darkest days.
He deserves honesty, doesn’t he?
But he is scared of it, you can see it in his eyes, you know how ashamed he is of how he acted as a teenager, and you know how bad he feels when others remind him of his past, teasing and laughing in his face about King Steve.
If only he knew how much you have worshiped the ground he walked on from the moment you laid your eyes on him, how you never once thought badly of him, not even when he hurt you with cruel words.
‘I have loved you from the moment your hand touched mine when you brushed past me in the hallway for the very first time.’ Is what you should say but you can’t, despite the aching feeling in your chest, you cannot utter these words, no matter the shift between you both tonight and the hope he filled you with.
But he waits, he waits for you to answer his question and who are you to leave him waiting?
“Insufferable. And a douche.” At those words, Steve’s eyebrows fall in sadness, prompting you to smile sweetly at him. “But I knew you never meant it. I knew it wasn’t truly you…”
“Oh? And how would you know that?” He asks, his thumb going in circles in the small of your back as your eyes twinkle with love, with admiration, with devotion.
“Because I saw you.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington series#stranger things angst
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Death Wish 4
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Bucky Barnes
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
Photo Inspo
You close the cupboard and nearly jump out of your skin as Adrienne stands on the other side of it. She stares at you soberly before she cracks a sheepish smile. You show your fright with a hand on your chest.
“Ade,” you huff.
She laughs, “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.”
“No problem,” you assure her. “What’s up?”
Her nostrils flare and her smile dulls, “it’s been a week.”
One week. Your father’s been away for a whole week. He’s rarely been gone that long. His jobs are never more than a couple days. And you haven’t heard from him, but that’s not unusual or disappointing.
“Hopefully it will be another,” Kitty says as she walks into the kitchen with a half-finished glass of water. “It’s calm around her. Isn’t it?”
You nod. A silence rises around the three of you. You think back to the one memory you have of a peaceful house. When it was the three of you and your mother.
“He got that kidney stone,” Kitty says. “Had him in the hospital for days. Ma said it was barely the size of a bead.”
“Best days of my life,” you agree.
“I don’t remember,” Adrienne says.
As the youngest, she doesn’t remember everything and you sometimes think that’s better for her sanity. Even your memory is splotchy. There are fractures of noise and vision. Sometimes you only see, other times it replays like a record on a player and crawls through your ears.
“So, Ade, why are you so concerned?” Kitty inquires.
Adrienne hesitates. She shrugs and looks away guiltily. She’s a bad liar. You all are despite the typical consequences.
“Mitzi wanted to see a movie. They’re screening Breakfast at Tiffany’s at the Golden Reel.”
“Audrey?” Kitty preens. “My favourite.”
“You can come. I was going to ask both of you but I thought if daddy came back--”
“And we’re all gone...” you add. “You two go. I can deal with him.”
“That’s not fair,” Kitty says.
“Really, go. I can’t focus on a movie right now.” You insist. “Have some popcorn for me, alright?”
“He probably won’t be back,” Kitty argues.
You wave her off, “really, it’s fine. You know I hate crowds. That theatre is tiny and it’ll probably be packed on a Friday night.”
“Okay, but I’m bringing you back raisinettes. I know you love them.” Kitty insists.
“Have fun. Tell Mitzi I said hello,” you turn back to the cupboards and run your hands over the laminate.
You’ve been restless. You clean just to keep yourself busy. To keep from thinking. And when you lay down at night, you’re not kept awake by your usual dread. It isn’t your father standing on your chest, it’s Barnes. In your dreams, he doesn’t strut into the bakery, but into your house. And he sits at the table where your father would usually be and sits silently, waiting.
That’s why this calm unsettles you. There’s always a storm to come after the quiet. It will unfurl soon enough.
“Hey, you okay?” Kitty’s gentle touch makes you wince.
“I’m good,” you assure her and nearly gag on your tongue. For a moment, it wasn’t your voice, it was your mother’s. That same lie she told for so long. You both hesitate at the echo of your lifetimes. “Really,” you face her, “you know I’m dying to have this place to myself. When does that ever happen?”
She stares at you then smiles. “Yeah, enjoy it while it lasts.”
She falters again. It’s what you’re all thinking. You want to milk every bit of joy out of your father’s absence.
Kitty turns and grabs Adrienne’s hand, quickly redirecting from the threat of inevitability, “Ade, what are you gonna wear?”
You take out the flour and all the other ingredients you need. For once, you can afford to spare a bit extra. When you were really young, your mother made her own bread. That stopped shortly after she had Adrienne. She changed after that. She was exhausted with all three of you.
You measure out every part before you begin. Your precision has always tied you in knots. You find it hard to get anything done unless it’s entirely orderly. In a house full of chaos, that means often you don’t get much done at all.
As you knead the dough, Kitty and Adrienne’s voices garble on the stairs. They stomp down to the first floor and call a goodbye to you through the doorway. You holler back but keep your hands working.
You get the loaf in the oven and clean up the mess. The empty house is eerie. You can’t remember the last time you were all alone. Really alone. Ever, if at all.
You wash the bowls and the whisk and the roller. You put it all away, step-by-step, running through every single detail. The timer counts down, the small windable egg-shaped device your mother always had going for one way or another. Tick, tick, tick.
It goes off and you jump. For a moment, you’re back in your memories. You’re a little girl at the table, watching your mother rush around the kitchen. Kitty’s beside you with a colouring book and Adrienne’s in her high chair.
Your mother limps from the fridge to stove. She doesn’t let it deter her. She bends to take out the pan of food as the timer buzzes. Adrienne wails at the noise as you cover your ears. The smell of cigarette smoke singes in your nostrils.
You twist the timer so it goes silent as you return to the present. The scent of tobacco fades as the fresh baked bread wafts through the kitchen. You open the creaky oven door and use the stained oven mitts to take the pan out. Your mother always wanted a new stove. You assume she wanted a lot of things that she never got.
You put the pan down and shut off the oven. The doorbell pierces the air and you spin, your back hitting the counter. It wouldn’t be your father; he wouldn’t ring the door. He always comes in screaming, even in the middle of the night.
You put the oven mitts on the table as you pass and step out into the hall. You near the door, a shadow on the other side of the marbled glass. It’s a man. Your heartbeat spikes. Your father is a criminal and a strange man knocking at your door could be dangerous.
Is death so bad when living is terrifying?
You open the door. A wash of deja vu flows over you. It isn’t a strange man, it’s Steve Rogers. Again. That doesn’t ease your worries.
“You. Come.” He orders you.
You hold your breath. That is unusual. Your father’s associates come and go, most times they barely acknowledge you, they’re just there to talk shit with him or drag him off on some caper. This is different. Different is dangerous.
“Yeah, you,” he snaps his fingers. “Look, I don’t got all day. Let’s go.”
You look down. “My shoes...”
“Get ‘em,” he sighs and crosses his arms.
You step back and leave the door open. You step into a pair of scuffed flats and turn back to him. You don’t even grab your keys as you step outside. You’re shaking.
“Is it my father?” You ask.
“No questions.” He snarls as he turns and marches down the narrow walkway.
You follow him at a bouncing pace, struggling to keep up with him. He leads you to the car and opens the back door. It’s then that you notice the woman in his front seat. Her eyes are skittish as she peers back out at you.
“Get in,” he opens the door. “And be quiet.”
You put your head down and obey. The look on that woman’s face is enough to keep you in line. Besides, your father prepared you well. There’s an order to things and you’re at the very bottom. So keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.
#bucky barnes#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#series#drabble#au#mob au#death wish#marvel#mcu#captain america#winter soldier#avengers
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After Vecna is defeated and the world goes back to normal for good, Steve thinks he can get on with his life. And for a while that's exactly what happens: his scars heal and, against everything he would have ever expected, Eddie heals right beside him.
But a year later, his life gets turned upside down in a whole new way. He gets one more hit to the head. It's a stupid accident, really, something involving a broken lightbulb, an old stepladder and an unfortunate fall. He loses pretty much all his sight. His once expressive brown eyes become hollow shells, one staring right ahead and one turned sideways, but both equally useless.
At first, the darkness is scary. It's frustrating, to be robbed of one of the few things he could always rely on. He has to get to know the world around him in a whole new way. There are days when he hates it, days when he wants to stay in bed in his room forever. There are days when he wants to scream, even days when he wants to cut his own eyes out like Victor Creel did before him.
But slowly, little by little, he learns to live with it. He grows a new appreciation for beautiful music and good food, things that stimulate his other senses that he now relies more heavily on. He develops a sharp ear for people's voices and intonations to make up for the loss of seeing their facial expressions. Where he used to love seeing Robin's bright eyes and Dustin's excited smile, he now treasures the sound of Dustin's laughter and the scent of Robin's cologne.
The one thing he will never stop missing, though, is Eddie's face. The way his eyes light up when he smiles. The way his mouth curves into that mischievous grin that Steve once fell in love with. The way his fluffy curls cascade over his back. Those are the things he misses the most.
There's a lot that makes up for that loss: he can cling to Eddie's arm whenever he wants, without having to worry about people taking their affectionate touches the wrong way. He gets to rely on Eddie's helping hand and to bask in Eddie's scent. And, most importantly: he gets to listen to Eddie's voice all the time, when he describes what's happening around them in lively phrases and with passion in his voice like the true storyteller he is.
“Do you know that there's one thing you're always leaving out when you're describing things to me?” Steve asks him one day, when he feels Eddie's hands move through the air around them during his excited monologue about the orange cat that is currently visiting their garden, chasing after butterflies and going after its own tail in the flowerbeds.
“Huh?” Eddie sounds confused.
“You're always leaving out the most important part,” Steve continues. He lifts his hand and slowly moves it to find Eddie's face. He feels his curls underneath his fingertips, then slides them further over Eddie's features.
“What do you mean, Stevie?”
“You never mention how you look. Only what you see. But if I could see, I'd be looking at you, Eddie. I'd watch your face. I can still remember that curve of your mouth, that crease between your eyebrows...” He lets his hand linger on the places he mentions. “But it's all becoming less clear. I'll never see it again. I don't wanna lose that.”
Steve feels his hand getting covered by another one, lets his fingers be guided across Eddie's cheek.
“You won't,” Eddie tells him softly. “There's no way I'll let you lose that.”
Steve can already feel the change in temperature underneath his fingers before Eddie speaks.
“I'm blushing right now, Stevie. Cause of what you said. And...” He guides Steve's hand further down over the uneven skin of his scarred cheek. “I'm smiling. Just a little bit. Not that wide smile I have when I'm messing with you, but the smaller one, the one that's just for you.”
Eddie squeezes his hand before he lets go. A moment later, his lips brush softly against Steve's, something that's not quite a kiss. Steve can feel that Eddie is about to pull back before it becomes anything more, but he presses back into Eddie's space, chases his warm lips with his own, and wraps his arms around Eddie's body to pull him closer.
Kissing is best without looking anyway.
#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#i love all the deaf/hoh steve headcanons with all my heart but#have something a lil different i guess#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#blind!steve#stranger things#fanfic#fruity ficlet
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𓆩⚝𓆪 ☒ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝! 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ִֶָ . ָ࣪ ˑ ֗⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ִֶָ . ָ࣪ ˑ ֗ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ⸱ ִֶָ . ָ࣪
Ꮺ Read before getting into your group please! THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR EVERYONE AT THE END!!!
Hey y'all, it's me and I'm back. I told y'all I don't have a PAC uploading schedule 😭. I honestly just do it whenever I feel that I have the energy and then recharge. Perhaps when I'm in my "tarot reading hibernation" I'll take free requests so stay tuned (I'll have to figure out rules for requests first 😭).
Remember that you can pick more than one and to choose what resonates and STAY HYDRATED!!! I've never done a love reading before so feedback would be very appreciated.
⋆。° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ
For physical features I see that they have brown hair (light or dark brown). For some, your partner might have dreads, locs, or very intricate braids. Their skin may be brown or tanned (or tan easily). They have such an infectious and bright smile, it's like their whole face lights up and it's so beautiful to everyone seeing it. They're muscular, but in skinny way? I don't know how to explain it. Kind of like runners? As for their clothes or clothing style, they might wear either all black or white with a few pops of color. Like an example would be a dark t-shirt with a bright red collar thing and a necklace with a big yellow crystal.
They carry so so so much enthusiasm. Right off the bat they just bring a light very few can bring. They bring so much to people just by existing. inspiration, hope, enlightenment even? They don't even have to be extroverted they just have and give so much energy. They have so many silly little thoughts they share every now and then that seem to come out of nowhere. Their biggest character strength is gratitude. They feel so thankful for everything and everyone and they'll let you know. Oh my god pile 1 you're so lucky this person is so in love with life and will make you in love with life even more than you currently do. They will make you love being human the and feeling and tasting and dancing and experiencing that come with it. It'll have you seeing beauty in the everyday things.
Right now they're going through some really intense spiritual transformation. They need to learn to ask for help when they need it. They'll do well though. They'll find a lot of things could've been solved by just asking for help. Both you and them are at the beginning of your journeys (that doesn't mean your journey is long though), so if you guys think things are already good then I'm thinking of the phrase "universe, show me how good it can get". They're such a good cook & baker by the way. They have a lot of earth and fire placements. Extremely romantic in both the loveydovey type and the artsy sense.
When you come into their life it's very much random and unexpected. My sister just unexpectedly found an item that cleans her flute so I'll take it as a sign that you guys meet at a music / dance event or concert. Perhaps in the same class taking music lessons. Also random message: this meeting is just unavoidable, no matter what you do they'll find their way to you so don't worry. Even if you guys meet, have a conversation, and leave, you guys will keep bumping into each other. Months into your relationship, both of you will look back at this meeting as something purely magical. If they don't believe in fate or magic or some higher power, this will change their mind.
I'm also hearing, "It's so beautiful how deeply you feel." You may have been looked down on for being "overly sensitive" and "caring too much" but they very much appreciate it. Also hearing "Whatever you say, beautiful." like if you told them to do something crazy they wouldn't even question it. Literally remembered this image:
🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: The Chariot (representing them), Ruby, the word "baroque", Soprano, Clownfish, Horses, Bells, Lemons, roses, letter S.
⋆。° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ
Straight dark brown or black hair, they like wearing more simple outfits most of the time with neutral colors but there will be days where they're like "screw it I'm going to dress all fancy just to go to the library". Often carries a backpack or suitcase or purse everywhere. Worst case of RBF (resting bitch face) ever, but their face is so gentle and pretty too. Maybe wears black glasses (maybe prescription maybe not). A little random but you might find that they look so hot when they're focused? Really nice hands, they might like to wear rings or gloves. Would probably let you paint their nails.
But when you get to know them they're actually goofy and sometimes they don't even know it. "Apartment complex? I find it quite simple actually." vibes. I think a lot of people don't like how confident they look and say stuff like "They think they're better than us." when they never even act like that. Warning they have so many haters and it isn't because they even did or said anything, people see them and their confident energy and assume so so SO much about them. They don't know that though, because to them it seems like they hate your S/O for no reason and they're so confused. In reality they're so soft and kind hearted.
Random thing - they might really like penguins? They have ungodly amounts of patience for everything and everyone it's mind boggling. They're either interested or uninterested in things, so if they're interested they will put their heart and soul into whatever it is. You can see it so well in their work and career, whatever it may be. Embodiment of the word "Meraki". Btw your S/O doesn't want me to "spoil any surprises" take it as you wish.
EDIT: Holy shit there was whole entire paragraph about what I'd guess is the "surprise" that somehow didn't end up in the reading when I copy / pasted it from Notion to tumblr?????
Going to add more to this, it seems that your partner is super shy and a little awkward if that makes sense? Like, if you ever have done readings about specific people, while you may not HEAR their voice, you can kind of feel the vibes of them talking? They kind of remind me of the smell after the rain (which if you're curious, no it was not raining at the time of me doing this reading).
🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Meraki (obviously), Cats, purple & blue, the letter R, birds visiting your backyard often, 777,
⋆。° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
Instead of starting with physical appearance I think I want to start off with what they're like. Right off the bat their energy is very easy to tap into (in a good way). In fact, after I was done with pile two, I kept on getting intuitive messages for two whole days on what they're like. This whole entire pile I didn't even have to draw a single card. at all. They're extremely talkative, and I wouldn't be surprised if you constantly recieved messages and signs from them. I'd imagine it would be like recieving a loud notification on your phone because honestly whatever chance they get, their higher self constantly is there checking in on you.
They have an incredible sense of humor first of all. They will never fail to make you laugh. I hope this makes sense, but they're almost like a walking four leaf clover or lucky charm. Wherever they go they just bring good luck to themselves and people around them. Perhaps their very existence is a miracle. Their birthday may be in May. This is going to sound weird and no shade to your S/O but they're the type of person you wouldn't expect to be so smart. Usually people think of smart people as like, these serious nerdy looking people, but this person is genuinely so so smart and good at talking to others.
I bet how you guys will meet is that you'll be struggling with something and they'll walk into your life and help you. They have the sort of magic of a teacher that can explain the hardest topics so easily. One of their weaknesses is that they're a little too afraid to ask help for themselves. This person isn't JUST good boy/girl/joyfriend material, but also a great spouse.
Wouldn't be surprised if they have light hair or are ginger. If they have dark hair it's probably dyed. Their hair is so fluffy and if it's long it's very nice to just run your hand in. A very comfortable style, I could imagine that they sometimes wear soft pastel colors (Blue, green, orange mostly) or neon. Hoodlies, loose clothing, handmade clothes.
🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Four leaf clovers, 444, cats with different colored eyes (kinda specific), spiders, random light colored yarm / wool.
⋆。° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ
Your partner is probably much taller than you. They probably have silver jewelry and long hair. They put in a LOT of effort into how they look, they always look so fashionable. They also take great care of their body too. I don't think it's to the point where they're vain though, they just take care of themselves and like dressing cool. They may have blue, green, or grey eyes.
First of all, this may come to a shock to you but your partner is very spiritual. When you meet them they'll probably have already spent years learning about and practicing their spirituality. Everyone that meets them thinks that they're mentally just wise beyond their years, and I don't mean when it comes to academics (though that might be the case). There's just something about them that makes them feel like they've been on this earth for a long long time and have witnessed many things and met many people.
They may actually be a historian, anthropologist, archivist, librarian, psychologist, or sociologist. Okay I've just been having this stuck in my head while doing this reading but I'm imagining like, a rock or statue with moss growing on it. Also I'm feeling strangely calm and warm right now. I don't know if "calm" would even describe it, it's like complete serenity.
When you meet them it might be in somewhere incredibly crowded, but it'll feel like it's just the two of you. You could maybe meet them through a friend and have a nice long night drive talking to each other. They genuinely love you. I mean obviously this is a future partner reading so of course they would, but this love runs so deep. There's not any way that I can get you to fully understand the depths of this love, so you'll just have to wait and see!
They're the type of person that makes people comfortable enough to be themselves without worrying about judgement, mostly because to be honest this person is seen as "weird" themselves. You make them love humanity, is another message I'm getting.
Also a note that I didn't even pull cards for this, it was all intuitive so usually I take it as a sign this person's energy / presence is strong and you probably receive messages and signs from their higher self a lot. Or maybe their 3d human self consciously sends positive energy your way, a sign of this is randomly feeling warm and cozy and calm for no reason. P.S. they probably think about you as much as you think about them.
ALSO!!!! PILE 4 don't stop reading it yet there's a message I got for you guys but I feel called to put it at the end separately for all of the piles!
🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: 888, blueberry, lights that flicker for no reason, or maybe dreams where you see some sort of light floating around, rainbows, bees, Magician card, the word "arbiter"
𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕐 ℙ𝕀𝕃𝔼!!!
I know someone (not all of you) is thinking "Nahh this sounds too good to be true", well 1. that's the magic of soul connections and love & 2. Please stop lowering your standards because it's "unrealistic" because I swear you're not asking for much from a person. You deserve something "too good to be true" bestie (And also, remember, YOU are a dream come true for them too 😭).
"Why me what's so special about me 🫤 " on god you're the type of person who asks for signs from your spirit guides and then ignores them like they're tiiiireeedddd. Real talk though, you don't know how beautiful you are to a strangers eyes because you grow accustomed to your face. You don't know how smart and amazing you are (and yes knowing a lot about a random show or book or random subject counts as being smart shhh).
You are so perfectly human you just DON'T KNOWWW. I
f you think like this (or even if you don't because we should all do this), I'm giving you homework. Make a list of everything you are grateful for yourself for doing / being, what topics and interests you have, your favorite fashion style, achievements, color, animal, your favorite song, things you have around the house that you like and why, etc.
YOU ARE AN INTERESTING PERSON!!!! If you have a good relationship with your parents / guardians or grandparents or aunts or siblings, ask them what they love about you. Get to know yourself!!! A lot of things are cool and special about you!!!!!!!!!
-Eiki
#pac#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a pile reading#pick a card reading#pick an image#pick a photo#tarot#tarot reading#tarot readings#spirituality#love#romance#romance reading#love reading#future partner#f/p#s/o#love readings#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#tarot reader#eikiposts#pick a picture#pac reading#lover#future lover#lovers#couple#relationship
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➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the dateables
1.3k words | gn!reader | nsfw | suggestive
c/w: jealousy, pining, masturbation
read more: the demon brothers | when solomon is your fwb
Barbatos first learns about your arrangement from Asmodeus, and he hesitates to inform his young master about it. Perhaps it's not their place to discuss your private life, but he decides that transparency is best. The subject inevitably comes up one morning when Diavolo asks for an update about the exchange program. He's anxious to know how the students are adjusting to life in the Devildom. Admittedly, he's not concerned about Solomon or the angels as much as he is about you. You're an ordinary human with only Lucifer and his siblings to protect you outside of school hours. He remembers how upset you were when you first arrived and he doesn't want resentment to linger.
Diavolo chokes on a mouthful of coffee when Barbatos informs him that you’re in a relationship with one of your classmates. (He uses the term relationship loosely since he's seen no evidence that you spend much time together outside of your physical arrangement.) Diavolo clears his throat and remarks how wonderful it is that you're making friends so quickly. The smile on his face looks forced. He leaves the rest of his breakfast untouched and carries on with his preparations for the day. He feels a burst of happiness when he sees you at RAD, and he ignores the bitter jealousy that burns his throat when he sees your friend. He has no logical reason to interfere, and he knows it's petty when he considers the subtle ways he can try to keep you two apart. It feels like an abuse of his power, but the more he thinks about it, the more justified he feels. He doesn't get much work done because he's so distracted thinking about the best way to approach you about deepening your relationship. You're his guest in the Devildom; if you want to turn to someone for pleasurable company, why not the prince himself?
Barbatos keeps a close eye on you and your friend once he discovers your secret. He tells himself it's because his young master would want him to and not his own jealous curiosity. He has no evidence to suggest the other demon means to harm you or that you're not being treated well. On the contrary, some days your eyes seem just a bit brighter and there's a secretive smile on your face. His keen eye for detail notices that sometimes you walk with the slightest limp in your gait. Your spirit and body are radiant in the aftermath of pleasure and he realizes he wants you for himself. He decides your time is wasted with your current choice of companion. He finds new reasons to seek you out because your friend is reluctant to approach you when the demon lord's butler hovers nearby. He feels a bit smug that your suitor is so easily deterred. See? You can do better than that weak excuse for a demon.
Barbatos eagerly learns more about your favourite foods and drinks, the types of books you like to read and your hobbies. He knows your class schedule and surprises you with mid-morning snacks of freshly-brewed tea and baked treats he makes specially for you. He plans to court you properly, so he can give you everything your other lover didn't; you deserve so much more than rushed fumblings in dark, dusty storage closets.
Solomon was wrong about you. In a world of demons, he believed you would naturally turn to him if you missed parts of your life in the human world. He’s the only other human here, and it seemed logical that you would lean on him for support or comfort. He remembers the first day he met you; if he could sense your fear, he knew the demons could too. That’s why he’s genuinely shocked to learn that not only are you and the demon brothers actually getting along, but that you’ve started fucking one of your classmates too. Asmo giggles at Solomon’s slack-jawed expression when he tells him.
It’s only a few days later when he happens to spot you coming out of a dark utility closet in your slightly-wrinkled uniform. He plasters a wide grin on his face and pretends not to notice. He offers to walk you to the cafeteria for lunch as a chance for you two to catch up. He sniffs the air discreetly while you chatter on about something funny the brothers did that morning. He's too distracted to pay attention to what you're saying, though. Underneath the whiff of hastily-reapplied fragrance, he detects salty sweat, musk and a hint of cologne he knows you don’t wear. He wonders what other traces your friend left behind. Did he suck bruises into your skin where the collar of your shirt covers them? Are you sticky from demon cum that dripped down your thighs? It bothers him more than it should that some random demon gets to touch you like this. He can’t stop thinking about it. After trying and failing to sleep that night, he jerks off while he fantasizes about what it might be like to pull you into an empty classroom and hear your voice beg him to fuck you. You're already friends, and he can offer you secrecy or discretion if that's your preference. All he needs to do is think of how to persuade you to let him be your dirty little secret instead. If you give him a chance, he promises you won't regret it.
The first time Simeon sees you with your fling, he's leaning close and whatever he whispers in your ear makes you smile. You bite your lip and nod, and Simeon's perplexed because he's never seen you act this way with someone before. Oh, he's just a friend. The second time Simeon sees you with your fling, he's leading you by the hand into one of the club offices after school. It's a stroke of bad luck, really. He forgot his textbook in one of the classrooms, but he pauses outside the door you disappeared through. He might be an angel, but he's not innocent. He knows exactly what you and your friend are getting up to. It makes his throat dry and he feels hot all of a sudden, and he spends the rest of the night trying to concentrate on his homework instead of the soft, muffled noises he heard through that door. The next day is even worse. There's a noticeable spring in your step and if he leans over you at just the right angle, the small purplish mark barely hidden by your shirt collar reminds him all over again how you got it in the first place.
He didn't think you'd seek out the company of demons that way, especially not with some random classmate you barely spend time with outside of your little dalliances. He understands that humans are lustful and impulsive creatures. Are you so desperate that you would turn to a stranger to satisfy your physical needs? He's not sure why he cares so much. Maybe it's because you're a kind, bright soul in this strange kingdom of endless night. Maybe it's because you stir things in him that he tries to ignore: longing for companionship, desire for a loving hand to touch him instead of his own. Jealousy makes his tone sharp and his heart ache. He goes to bed imagining what taking you out on a date might be like, and he wakes up hard with his hand around his cock as memories of your sweet, pleasured sounds echo in his mind. He can't remember the last time he was so easily led astray by temptation. He wonders if you're more demon than human because he's powerless to resist you.
#obey me#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#diavolo x reader#barbatos x reader#solomon x reader#simeon x reader#obey me smut#solomon smut#simeon smut#obey me x reader#x reader#gn!reader
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—· Castiel Head/canons!
(SFW/NSFW)
There are also some angels headcanons too! — Remembering that these are HEADCANONS and even if they don't make sense to you, they make sense to me./LH. Some (many) of them I only kept in a jar in my brain while I was reading fanfics, hehe...
English is not my first language, be patient with me.
SFW!
- Pansexual! I firmly believe that angels don't care about your sex or gender, for them it's practically the same thing besides your body.
- This also means that they don't care if you are a man or a woman, if you do something they don't like you will be beaten, probably die. I see Castiel from the first seasons doing this so— yeah.
- Autism spec. You can't convince me otherwise.
- For petnames, he doesn't use it much, but if he does sometime, he calls you honeybee or love. Probably "human" if you call him "angel".
- He LOVES physical contact, even if it's not apparent, he could cuddle with you for hours and still want more
- His wings are HUGE, dark and blue, when you touch them they feel like silk, they are so soft, completely from another world.
- And to complement, I like to think that they are quite sensitive to touch.
- If he were to choose a favorite color, it would be green because it reminds him of nature. But he also likes blue (sea and sky) and yellow (bees)
- His trenchcoat are his comfort object.
- HE HUGS YOU WITH HIS WINGS WHEN YOU CUDDLE OR ARE JUST SITTING NEXT TO EACH OTHER. Imagine him protecting you with them while you sleep <3
- Gets grumpy when drunk <3
- Legends say that Castiel once tried to make breakfast and Dean forbade him from touching his stove...
- He's almost always watching you, just... Looking at you. Sometimes it's a little creepy, but he loves you too much not to look.
- When you had your first kiss, all the light bulbs in the neighborhood just exploded and he looked at you with a surprised face-- (not because of the light bulbs)
- After seeing how good you are with children, sometimes he imagines what you would be like as a mother and what it would be like if you could have a normal life, without hunting, without dating an angel. He knows what could happen if you two had a child and can't even imagine what he would do knowing that he was the one who did this to you :3
- Physically, what he likes most about you are your eyes. And his favorite part of himself is his wings, even after the fall, it still reminds him of what he really is. Jimmy isn't exactly... Him. He's just a vessel. It wouldn't make much sense for him to choose some part of his body as his favorite.
- You collect his feathers when he's moulting (I love comparing angel wings to bird wings! Sorry...)
- besides tasting molecules, He can literally SEE them... Or at least some of them...
NSFW!
- PRAISE AND DEGRADATION KINK. It depends on the day, although at first if you degraded him he wouldn't understand why you would be doing that... But praise him and this angel will be on his knees for you.
- He's more into slow and sensual sex.
- He doesn't sweat at all, not in the intercourse or out of it. (This is canon actually)
- Something between 7/8 inches, specifically 18/19cm, a bit thick - (Misha messed with my head when said he has 9 inches, so hmm)
- He definitely doesn't shave, just let it grow and wouldn't mind if you didn't shave it too. He is an angel, he saw everything from the beginning, including Eve and Adam. There were no razors at that time.
- LOVES oral sex, give him a blowjob and he would be a pathetic whiny mess. However, he doesn't really like to GIVE bc of the taste of the molecules. (Human Cas would LOVE to taste you tho ;))
- As I said before, his wings are sensitive, he LOVES it when you stroke them when you 2 are having sex, even if it makes him a bit overwhelmed and quite Desesperate
- Usually a dom. He followed rules his whole life, let our little angel have a little control <3 But of course on his first time he would like you to tell him what to do, but over time he would become more confident and you are fucked.
- LET HIM USE HIS GRACE ON(in) YOU. Pin you against the bed, you can't even move properly as he fucks you w his grace, looking into your eyes with a little smirk on his face.
- As an angel, he has much more stamina than you, so you would only stop when you are tired. For him, you 2 could do this all night.
- MY BOY IS A VOYEUR! I'm sure he's watched you touch yourself and stuff when he were invisible, but never had the courage to jerk off to it tho
- He will look you in the eye almost all the time, he just can't help it.
- ALWAYS checking on you, asking if what he's doing is okay (especially the first few times you did this), he doesn't want to hurt you... :(
- Call him a good angel/boy when you're jerking him off and that you're proud of him when he finish, he'll fucking MELT.
- He'll get confused if you say “Oh my God”... Why are you moaning his father's name when he's the one fucking you? (HELP)
There are a lot of nsfw hcs I'm genuinely scared of myself, sorry 😭 I used practically all my headcanons in this post, there probably won't be a pt 2, be glad, mwah mwah mwah
Look at his Dom look HELPP
#castiel#spn#supernatural#castiel supernatural#castiel appreciation account#castiel x reader#spn castiel#human castiel#love castiel#cringe#castiel x y/n#castiel x you#silly little boy#silly angel#:3 heehee#castiel headcanons#Boyfriend Castiel#cas spn#supernatural fandom
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Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up
Pairing: Megumi x reader
Word Count: 1,5k
Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?
Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you
I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe
Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.
When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.
“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”
“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”
Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.
“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.
“You know you don’t have to-“
“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”
Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.
“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”
You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.
-Megumi-
Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.
His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.
Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.
Just like his sister.
Just like Gojo-sensei.
Just like everyone else.
It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.
“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”
Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.
No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.
Nothing but emptiness.
Nothing but darkness.
“Megumi.”
Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-
“Megumi.”
Again.
His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-
“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”
“(y/n)?”
That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.
“Hey, it’s been a while.”
“You’re dead.”
That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.
You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.
“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.
Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.
He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…
He opens his eyes.
His gaze finds yours.
Time stands still.
“I missed you, cutie patootie.”
Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…
“(y/n)”, he breathes out.
“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”
You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.
“(y/n).”
And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.
“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.
“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.
“(y/n)!”
Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.
“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”
The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.
But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.
“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“
“But I did!”, he screams.
“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”
His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.
“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“
“Stop right there.”
Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.
“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”
Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.
“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.
“I love you.”
The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.
This is a reason to hold on, right?
“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.
“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”
“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”
Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.
“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”
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