#((but he's very well-meaning; very gentle-hearted!))
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hearts4werka · 21 hours ago
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Introducing… zombie!chris .ᐟ
Died in the 00’s, some ghost-hunting kids accidentally brought him back to live from the grave, family died many years ago, torn up clothes, scars and sew marks on his limbs, greenish-withered tint to his skin, a specific scar going down his eye he likes to make up stories about how he got it, quite flirty, charming, face card is at max, has a special rotten spot in his heart for innocent!reader, loves how delicate reader’s skin is, compares hand sizes but without a few fingers, even tho he may be undead he does know how to fuck well, doggy style enthusiast, loves classical music, quite a prankster, likes to scare reader whenever her nose is in a book too long, doesn’t want to dress up for Halloween even tho reader wants to match costumes, adores the fuck out of dogs, loves watching reader get flustered when he calls her ma’am darling or sweetheart “Oh cmon, darling, you have to watch your step next time than have your nose stuck in those books”
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| ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - things I assume he would say |
🧟‍♂️ - “Do you need a hand, ma’am?” He asks while detaching his arm and waving it around.
🧟‍♂️ - “Fuck… um- could you sew my dick back onto me, please?” He gestured down to the place where his dick is now missing from.
🧟‍♂️ - “I don’t need new clothes, I’m fine with these, they add character to my person!” “But people think you’re dressed up as a zombie all year.” “Well they can go fuck themselves for all I care,”
🧟‍♂️ - “Now do I have to? I have no idea how to bakee…” He whines but you grab his hand and drag him into the kitchen, but try not to be too rough as his arm is pretty flimsy.
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 introducing… innocent!reader .ᐟ
A big sweetheart, loving family, virgin, loves all small animals, pink bows, mostly pastel clothes, delicate skin, gentle with anyone & everyone, always wanting to help, books enthusiast, clueless, falls for Chris’s pranks, a scaredy-cat, very lovable, secretly is falling for zombie!chris even tho she shouldn’t, blames all of it on the books, very curious about zombie!chris & tends to ask a lot of questions, adores baking fresh pastry, wants to create her own bakery but is too scared too, soft spot for zombie!chris, feels bad for him, always tries to convince zombie!chris to do something new, forces him to bake with you knowing he secretly enjoys it, bit of a crybaby, hates being mean, cozy like a little cute grandma, very innocent on a lot of topics, “S-stop calling me that, it makes my face feel weird”
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| ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - things I assume she would say |
🌸 - “You’re such a unique creature, sometimes I wonder how you’re even real” She cluelessly wonders while she runs a hand through his hair.
🌸 - “Let me just grab my sewing kit and you stay here, ‘mkay honey?” She reassured before getting up from her seat and going into her kitchen.
🌸 - “Can you tell me the story of how you got brought to life again?” She asks curiously, loving to hear how he tells the story each time.
🌸 - “Can we pleasee go bake some cookies? It’ll be great bonding time…” She pleads, giving him the sweet puppy eyes that always make him say yes.
-
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! : if anyone has any questions about these two, please ask me them, it can be any questions you have and I’ll gladly provide as much information about that topic as I can, I love talking to y’all and hope y’all have an amazing day wherever you are 💗
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𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - |
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connorsui · 3 days ago
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Safe Heaven
• Zayne x fem! reader
Genre/warnings: fluff, hints of angst (feelings of guilt), childbirth, comfort end , mild vurnability, feelings of helplessness, mentions of heart problems, slight mentions of anxiety and stress, we are not having a good time here..but that's okay!
Synopsis: zayne reassures you of his love as you cover from childbirth
Note: my lawwwdddd it's been such a long time without seeing any of you inside of my house..it feels so foreign ..breaks my heart into little pieces ..howeverrr this moment of silence didn't mean I was left with nothing inside of these neurons of mine-- ur beloved consui has thoughts ..and thoughts she must expel in the form of zayne 🩶
wc: 1.3K
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“Every passing day…” you began, your voice almost a whisper, “I feel as though I am becoming more of a burden to you.”
The words hung in the stillness of the room as you lay upon the bed, your gaze fixed upon Zayne, who tenderly cradled the slumbering form of your newborn. The night had settled in with a serene quiet, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of the baby’s gentle feeding. Moonlight streamed through the curtains, bathing the room in a silvery glow that softened the edges of everything, lending an air of tranquility to the tender scene before you.
Zayne’s eyes flickered to yours, his brow furrowing ever so slightly in quiet confusion, as though he were searching for the meaning behind your words. “Mmh?” he murmured, his voice a soft note that seemed to vibrate through the still air.
"What do you mean?"
Your heart stirred beneath his gaze, and though you tried to muster a smile, it faltered, laden with the weight of the self-doubt that had quietly gnawed at you. You averted your eyes, feeling the warmth of a slight flush creeping upon your cheeks. “I mean… it has been two weeks since they released me, and I have done nothing to aid since I returned,” you continued, your voice growing softer, almost apologetic. “I cannot help but feel as though I'm—”
Before you could continue, Zayne’s hand, warm and gentle, reached toward your face. His fingertips grazed your cheek with a softness that seemed to still your very breath, his touch lingering just enough to still the torrent of your words. He guided your face to meet his, his expression tender and unwavering, his gaze soft with something unspoken. With a faint smile that reached the depths of his eyes, he whispered a quiet, soothing shush, the sound more comforting than any words you had ever heard.
“Dont say it..." he said gently, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Your only concern should be your own rest, your own recovery… and holding our child with me...” He paused as if steadying himself, his eyes shadowed by memories of a time he wished never to revisit. “You know...when they told me your heart wasn’t faring well during the birth… I can not explain it. It felt as though my very world was fracturing before me. All I could think—” his voice broke, but he steadied it with a soft, trembling breath— “was that I needed you to stay with me with our child in your arms... I suppose at that giving moment I just wanted to see you safe ..in one place..not having to stress over anything ... even now"
The words struck your heart, stirring a depth of emotion you hadn’t anticipated. You sat up, your gaze fixed on him, your breath caught between disbelief and sorrow as you absorbed his admission. Your eyes grew cloudy, softening with tears as you looked from Zayne’s face to the child resting peacefully in his arms, blissfully unaware of the turmoil their entrance into the world had caused.
A tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another, and you looked to your lap, your shoulders trembling. “Zayne, I'm - … I didn’t mean…” you began, but your voice faltered, words catching in your throat. You hadn’t meant to burden him, hadn’t meant to leave him with the fear that your heart might fail you. The mere thought that your own weakness had caused him such distress made you feel small, vulnerable—a helplessness you had seldom allowed yourself to feel.
But before you could stumble further, Zayne’s hand reached out, his fingers warm and reassuring as he placed them under your chin and lifted your face to his. “No,” he whispered, his voice as tender as the night itself. “Stop. Do not apologize for anything” he continued, his gaze so steady, so filled with love that it was nearly overwhelming. " I may worry for your health—and you know that I will— it comes straight from my heart. You are everything to me, and nothing will change that, not even fear."
In that moment, you felt the warmth of his hand, the strength of his embrace, drawing you closer to his chest, with your child nestled gently between you. His heart beat steadily beneath your ear, a reminder of his constancy, his unyielding devotion. You raised your face, your eyes shining as you met his gaze, and you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips that held every ounce of your gratitude, your love, your devotion—a silent promise that only he could understand.
When you drew back, you looked at him with all the tenderness in your heart. “You have given me more love than I ever thought possible,” you murmured, your voice a quiet reverence. “You have shown me, again and again, that I am cherished. I have no words to tell you how much that means… but I am yours, Zayne. Yours alone.”
A soft, awed smile touched his lips as he took in your words, and with gentle care, he rose, instructing you to lie back down. “Rest now,” he whispered, his tone one of loving insistence as he cradled your child close, “I’ll settle our son to sleep.” You watched as he moved to the crib, his steps tender, his every movement imbued with a quiet grace. You thought of all he had done for you in these recent days—how he had bathed you with gentle hands, had held you as you struggled to regain your strength, had prepared every meal and tended to every need without question or complaint.
And as you lay curled on the bed, a warmth settled within your chest, a happiness so profound it was almost a reverence. This man, who loved you so dearly, who had stood by you through every hardship, was yours, and you could wish for no greater gift.
When Zayne returned, slipping beneath the covers, you felt the bed dip beside you, and soon his arms encircled you once more, drawing you close until your cheek rested against his chest, where you could hear the steady thrum of his heart. His scent, warm and familiar, enveloped you, and you felt your cheeks grow warm beneath his touch.
Zayne leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice a murmur of quiet devotion. “I love you,” he whispered, the words laced with a depth that only the most profound affections could contain.
A long, comfortable silence fell between you, a silence filled with the unspoken promises of a love that could never be shaken. At last, you whispered back, your voice barely more than a breath. “I love you too.”
In that moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt truly, indescribably at peace.
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If zayne was my doctor I would find ways to get myself in the ER just to see him
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7ndipity · 14 hours ago
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“Just Breathe”
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: You're nervous about meeting Yoongi's parents for the first time
Warnings: angst/comfort, brief mentions of toxic family life, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to @vicky-chaos for this request! I hope you like it!
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The late afternoon sun warmed your back as you walked down the street hand in hand with Yoongi, the familiar hum of street noise around you a welcome soundtrack that you hoped would distract from the anxious thoughts that had been filtering through your mind all day.
Normally you loved going on errand runs like these with Yoongi, finding comfort in the mundane routine, but today you had found yourself unable to relax fully and enjoy yourself, even now fidgeting with the handles of the shopping bags in your free hand.
Yoongi’s parents were coming to visit for the weekend, and he had asked if you wanted to help him cook dinner on the first night so that you could meet them. You had been touched that he wanted to introduce you to them at all and had agreed to the plan eagerly enough at first, but inside, there had been a growing tinge of “what if?”.
If this evening didn’t go well, you worried how it would affect you and Yoongi’s relationship going forward.
Yoongi had noticed your growing nerves and had tried to reassure you that things would be fine, even giving you a crash course on his parents' personalities and interests to help make you feel more confident and give you something to talk to them about.
“-And Dad likes reading, so just keep conversation focused around that if you can’t think of anything else.” He finished as you were headed back towards where he had parked the car.
“Right…” You replied distantly, chewing on your lip.
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He assured you, squeezing your hand gently.
You nodded, but you couldn’t stop your heart still anxiously skittering around your ribcage, seeking out escape.
“Hey,” His tone was much softer now, drawing your attention back to him with a gentle touch on your cheek, letting his fingers just brush over your skin in the same way that he did as you fell asleep at night. “Just breathe, okay? Everything will be fine. They’re gonna love you.”
You hesitated for the briefest moment.
“What if they don’t?” Your asked quietly, breaking his heart at how small you sounded.
He knew his parents weren’t the easiest to get along with, especially his father, but he had faith that they would see what a beautiful and remarkable person you were. He couldn’t imagine anyone meeting you and not immediately falling for your warm heart and infectious personality.
But no matter how many times Yoongi tried to encourage and reassure you, your anxieties over what could possibly go wrong persisted.
He knew your fears weren’t entirely unfounded; it was no secret to him that the relationship between you and your own parents was difficult to say the least, leaving you with more than a few emotional scars that you were slowly trying to heal. But he was not so secretly hoping that this might be the start of a better relationship with parental figures for you, that you might start to view his family as your own. He just needed you to believe.
“If they don’t like you, then that’s their problem and they’ll have to get over it.” He told you matter-of-factly.
“Yoongi-” You started, but he stopped you.
“I mean it, if they know me and care about me at all, then they’ll make the effort to get along with the person I love.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his in shock, making him realize his accidental admission.
“You love me?” You asked.
“Yeah, of course I do.” He said, trying to ignore the creeping redness that he could feel coloring his face.
“It’s just-, you’ve never said that before.” You pointed out, still staring at him.
“I’ve felt it for a while, I’d just been trying to find the right time to say something.” He replied quietly, suddenly finding the pavement very interesting as he scratched at the back of his neck self-consciously. “And it’s no big deal, you don’t have to say anything ba-”
“I love you too.” You cut him off.
His head snapped back up, his dark eyes filled with cautious hope.
“Really?” 
You nodded. “I always have.”
Before you could blink, Yoongi closed the gap between you, crushing you to his chest in a hug that nearly knocked the wind out of you.
“I love you.” He mumbled into your hair. “I love you so fucking much, and nothing anyone says can ever change that. Not my parents, not anyone.”
Your eyes stung at his words, trying to fight back the sudden wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you.
“I love you too.” You managed, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.
It was moments like this that reminded you of just how thankful you were to have Yoongi in your life, always willing to make room for you, to protect you, to fight for you.
After a long moment, he pulled away enough to meet your eye again.
“We got this, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll be okay.”
You nodded, a small, genuine smile creeping across your face for the first time today.
“Lets go home.” He said, catching your hand in his again and giving it a slight squeeze.
The two of you walked on together in comfortable silence, savoring the feel of the shared warmth of your joined hands, keeping away the autumn chill that tried to chill your fingers.
Everything would be okay. So long as you had each other to hold onto, you could face anything.
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @universal-travel-er @k4ngelz
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levandright · 1 day ago
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i need a jay x reader (can be anything really, fic/drabble/hc whatever is easiest) where he's courting the reader the filipino way to win her heart 😍 fluff plz. also please please please, add a part where he's singing us a song he wrote for us if yk what i mean ;)
THANK KEW IN ADVANCE LEV IF U MAKE IT<3 hope ur having a good day and don't forget to take care of urself pooks 💜
JAY — COURTING YOU
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pairings : jay x f!reader 🎀 content / warning(s) : fluff, courting/harana, jay is a absolute gentleman, fluff, non-idol au 🎀 word count : 0.5k ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : took me a while to do this cause my brain was out of creativity >.> hope you like this mootie <3
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you and jay met through a mutual friend, and since that first encounter, he's been completely smitten with you.
the two of you hit it off from the start, and jay, with his growing and intense feelings for you day by day, confesses to you during a party hosted by your mutual friend.
you didn’t reject him; instead, you explained how you were unsure of your feelings. you knew him well enough to see he was a great guy—you just weren’t sure if you felt the same way yet.
he asks if you’ll let him court you, to win your heart through his efforts. with no complaints, you agree to this arrangement.
he makes a lasting impression the very next day, showing up at your door with a bouquet of roses in hand, asking if you’d like to join him for a date.
he takes you to a museum, where you stroll around the exhibits together, allowing him to get to know you even more deeply. afterward, he drives you home safely, the evening ending on a warm note.
that’s how the two of you fall into a routine: jay arrives at your door, taking you out on casual yet romantic dates, each outing another step in truly knowing each other.
two months pass by in a blur of shared moments and growing warmth between you. then, one fateful night, you receive a text from him, asking you to look out your window. you do just that, and there he is—your jay, standing in your front yard, guitar in hand, surrounded by flowers scattered all around, creating a scene so romantic you’ve only seen in movies.
as he strums his guitar and sings to you, butterflies erupt in your stomach, intensifying with every note. when he finishes, you head downstairs, to finally answer him.
he stands there bashfully, with his hands fidgetting behind him, waiting for you to say something. you give him a cheeky grin as you finally say what he's been wanting for you to say.
"i've gotta admit, you know how to make a girl feel special," you say, smiling. "i tried to take things slow, but you’ve completely won me over, jay. i’d be crazy not to want to be with you. so… consider this my 'yes.' you're officially my boyfriend."
jay’s eyes light up the moment he hears your answer, his smile widening as relief and happiness wash over his face.
without missing a beat, he closes the space between you, his voice soft but filled with excitement, "you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear that," he says, a hint of laughter breaking through. "i promise, i’ll make you happier than you can imagine."
in one smooth motion, he pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as if to make sure this moment is real, whispering, "thank you for giving me a chance… for letting me be yours."
as he pulls back just enough to look at you, there’s that familiar spark in his eyes, and with a teasing smile, he adds, "guess that makes me officially your boyfriend now, huh?"
you roll your eyes playfully at him as he repeats what you just said "yes, yes. you're now my boyfriend officially."
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perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!
©levandright
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reidsbabyhoney · 16 hours ago
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second chances | s.r.
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the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.
pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever too write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.
pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist
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The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.
You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.
Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.
You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.
You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.
Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.
As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.
From: Penny
Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!
A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.
You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.
-
You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.
It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.
You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.
You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.
You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.
-
The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.
You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.
And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.
Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.
As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.
He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.
“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.
“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.
“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.
Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”
He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?
-
Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.
You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.
“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.
You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.
Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”
“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.
You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”
You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.
“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”
-
The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.
You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.
Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.
He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”
His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”
The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?
“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”
His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”
The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.
“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”
Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.
“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”
You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”
He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.
“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”
He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.
“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”
The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.
“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”
His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”
And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.
-
It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.
The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.
You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.
You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.
Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.
You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.
“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?��� His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.
You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.
“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”
Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”
You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”
Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”
The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.
“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”
Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.
“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”
You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”
Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”
There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.
As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.
The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.
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all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx
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ramblinscramblin · 2 days ago
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→ General kissing headcanons!
Genre: fluff! GN reader
Characters: all mercenaries
Requested by me! First one of these, still getting a feel for writing for a lot these characters so forgive me if it’s ooc, I try my hardest! Enjoy!
Scout
Spends more time talking about kissing then actually doing it, psychs himself out a lot of time, may end up not even being able to do it.
He’s a nervous wreck when it comes to initiating physical contact, you’ll have to initiate most of the kisses most of the time (hehe).
Will pretend it’s you who’s nervous though, even if that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Look at you, you’re tremblin’ in your seat! Maybe some other night…” he said once, throwing an uncaring arm around the back of the couch.
“Scout, I’m not nervous… are you?” You pause for a moment, scanning his burning face “you are!”
“Nah! I’m not! What’s there to be nervous ’bout? Who even friggin’ cares not me! I’m relaxed!” He shouted as he quickly jumped to his feet “forget this! Im leavin’!”
Despite his reservations, once the two of you actually get into it, he warms up nicely. The anticipation is really what drives him crazy.
Scout definitely grabs at you whenever you two kiss, whatever he can reach really, your hips, jaw, neck, hands, thighs, whatever is closest.
Most of Scouts kisses are good natured, short, and sweet, he interrupts himself often to start a new train of thoughts. Extremely chatty during make out sessions, it’s almost endearing.
Deeper kisses are a pretty dangerous game for him, so he tends to keep that behavior for the bedroom.
Enjoys a good kiss on his forehead, would fucking die before he admitted that though.
Demoman
Really easy lover in pretty much every regard.
Demoman is looking for a good time, all the time, so long as you treat him with respect, kisses are pretty hard not to come by.
He’s almost always the one to make the first move (usually using a little bit of liquid courage to put a pep in his step).
“Yer lookin’ right as ever, wasna mor’ bonny cunt all night,” he said with a massive grin.
Sometimes it was a little hard to understand what he was saying, his facial expression usually tells you whether he means “cunt” in a negative or positive way. Clearly he is more than well intentioned.
“I’m… sorry,” you apologize with a gentle laugh “what was that?”
He placed a soft kiss right on the side of your mouth “I meant you look good, laddie/lassie.”
After that he pretty much kisses you all the time whenever for whatever.
LOVES IT when you take the reins though and kiss him, he always scoops you up and gives a big laugh, making a huge spectacle out of it.
Lots of drunk making out, I don’t make the rules.
Kisses you wherever you let him, no real preference, but loves to kiss your cheek and you his.
Solider
Solider is honestly a pretty hard read for me.
I feel like Solider takes most his cues from you, if you’re shy and nervous, he tends to act the same, if you’re confident and assertive, so is he.
Surprisingly, doesn’t take the lead very often, prefers if you tell him what you want, he hates reading social situations, especially when he tends to fail so often.
“Hey Solider,” you greet warmly one day.
“Hello maggot!” Strangely, despite the antagonistic nature of the nickname he still salutes you as you approach.
The two of you stand silently for a moment, before inevitably asking your most burning question “wanna make out?”
“Affirmative,” he said enthusiastically.
Most things with Solider are pretty simple, he’s a no nonsense fellow, he likes things to be American, and straight forward.
Kisses from him are always really fulfilling and deep, he likes kissing you before and after battle for “good luck”.
Kisses you on the back your neck and shoulders whenever they’re out, he loves that tender shit.
He likes to be taken seriously in his romances, no jokes during those times.
Always grabs the nape of your neck, almost always pulls away smiling. He’s a sweet heart.
Pyro
Pyro loves kisses.
Always secretly angling for them, anyway they can.
Pyro came up to you early one morning, a plate full of… what may at some point been then cinnamon buns saved in the communal fridge, but now were burnt to a crisp.
“Oh… is this for me! Thank you,” you smiled politely, taking the plate in your hands.
“Hudda hudda!” Mumbled Pyro happily, hands clasped in excitement.
You leaned forward and place a soft kiss on the side of their mask.
Pyro was so geeked and giddy, they didn’t even realize that you had discarded the cinnamon buns behind your back.
Big cartoony kisses on their mask, make a big show of it, with a loud “mwah!” As you pull away, they’re already melting.
Most kisses come when Pyro and you are cuddling, which is also a frequently required assignment from Pyro.
Every time they kiss you, you can hear a very muffled and yet extremely enthusiastic smecking sound from inside their mask.
Spy
Spy is headstrong with romance, never the kind of guy to pull his punches. He’s so charming though that you may not even notice.
He’s a gentleman, so there is actually a lot that has to happen before he is willing to kiss you.
Lots of flirting and courting, everything, the entire nine yards. Makes you feel like royalty. First date also needs to happen before he kisses you.
“I can pull out my own seat, Spy,” you scold a little half heartedly.
Spy just stares at you, half offended for a moment before saying “don’t speak nonsense, mon amor! It’s bad luck!”
You hardly lift a finger during the entire date, even goes as far as feeding you, ends the night with an incredibly scenic walk back home and a kiss under the New Mexico moonlight.
Once kissing becomes regular for the two of you… it still almost always treated like a first kiss. Passionate, polite, loving. Spy is honestly so dreamy when he’s courting someone.
Doesn’t take much to bring out his hungrier side though, craves your kisses a little too insatiably at times. He just cannot get enough of you!
Hand kisses, constant hand kisses. Holds your hand often so it is easy to quickly bring to his lips for a quick peck.
Sniper
Sniper may take the longest to convince out of all of them.
I mean you can rush into it and kiss him unexpectedly, but really you’d be shooting yourself in the foot. Plus Sniper deserves to be worked for.
Spending constant quality time takes a lot of effort, but it’s what is required to get him even close to comfortable with the idea of kissing someone.
Tends to stay out of the romance scene, things can get messy in his profession he doesn’t want to drag anyone else into it.
But oh god he thinks about it constantly, especially when you start hanging around more and more, too strict on policy to admit it.
But if it’s technically your idea? Well… it wouldn’t exactly be very polite to decline now would it?
You’re sitting with him around a campfire, shoulder to shoulder on a log he cut a little too short (definitely not on purpose).
“So… quiet night,” you say, peeking up at him with a crooked smile.
“Uh, yup. That’s right,” he said quietly, staring down at you intensely.
Your eyes darted to his lips for just a second, but that was more than enough, you two were locked together for over an hour.
Acts awkward around you almost every single time you kiss him, not matter how long it’s been. He just cannot seem to get used to it. Don’t bring it up though, it will put him off.
Kissing snipes is rewarding every damn time because of how hard you have to work for it.
He likes to whisper sweet nothings between kisses, don’t acknowledge it, in fact don’t acknowledge any of it (Mick does not want to be perceived).
Kisses your temple, frequently. Loves if you pick up the same habit.
Engie
Engie is a fiend for physical affection, it’s a secret you’re not supposed to know about it though.
Finds kissing to be the most important part of a relationship, really values the whole intimacy of it.
Even despite that I imagine that he’s not really flashy about his approach with how to get kisses, talks around it mostly, making jokes and jabs about it.
Engie is probably the most emotionally intelligent out of all the mercs, so he’ll work up the courage eventually just give him a minute or two.
“So… we’ve been gettin’ pretty close, havin’ a good time an’ all,” he said subtly while you were alone with him.
“Yeah, I’d agree,” you respond with a grin.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant and confident “I think maybe we should take things to the next level, wha’d’ya say?”
Of course you accept, he’s still immensely shocked and red in the face about it though.
He likes really sudden like sickly sweet kisses, give him that corny rom-com stuff right now, he will absolutely melt.
Also likes to kiss while he hugs you, big into slipping his hands into your pockets while he does so.
Kisses your head a lot (if you’re taller than him he gets annoyed frequently that he can’t reach, you’re his prime target every time you sit down).
Just love on this man, he’s simple.
Medic
Despite how insane this guy is I feel like Medic is pretty coy with romance.
Not in a way that is shy, or insecure, or even nervous, he just enjoys being chased, he wants you to have to work for it at least a little bit.
You also have to prove to be someone worthy of his affection (which isn’t as hard as it sounds, show genuine interest in his interests and be sweet to his birds there you won).
Medic has a pretty lax kissing policy, he greets people with kisses all the time, so he wasn’t really shy with you even if things progressed more seriously.
“Oh! Good morning!” Medic exclaimed, placing a kick peck on the side of your lips.
Embarrassment clear on your face as you raise your hands in surprise, his good morning friendly kisses are usually placed squarely on the cheek, not so close to your mouth.
“Little eager this morning aren’t you?” You said in a teasing manner.
He shrugged a little, making a cheeky expression “I have no idea vhat you are talking about!”
Kisses at inopportune or awkward times, never seems to notice. Genuinely enjoys catching you off guard.
Likes make out sessions in his office a lot, secretly making mental notes about your oral situation, totally not creepy.
Expect a lot of kisses right next to your mouth, that’s his absolute favorite spot to kiss you, that or along your spine.
Heavy
Heavy is respectful to a fault honestly, is afraid of seeming creepy or imposing so he may keep his distance at first.
Definitely needs to go ahead from you before he thinks about making any moves, he doesn’t want to scare you away, and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances either. But once he sense a mutual attraction? He may get a little more bold.
“Is looking good tonight,” he said, elbowing you as lightly as possible.
“Who is?” You ask whipping your head around briefly.
Heavy laughed “you is,” he joked.
Kissing is almost always initiated by you, he has to be a special mood to start it himself, usually if he’s upset and needs a quick pick me up.
Is actually very clingy if you allow him to be (which of course you will, don’t be stupid people) holds you firmly in place while kissing.
Likes kissing your ears, finds your flustered reaction so sweet and adorable. Really into that pure shit.
Kisses you on the cheek whenever the two of you go your separate ways for whatever reason, and of course when you two reunite. Yes, you’re that couple.
God I’m such a sap, what’s wrong with me.
An: oh jeez! I hope that was good Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) again first time writing for a lot of these gents so let’s pray this isn’t offensively out of character. Thanks so much for reading!
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zhuoyichenpretty · 3 days ago
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Ep 25 Commentary
“難受嗎?難受就對了[...]卓大人,你習慣就好。” Is it difficult to bear? Good [...] Zhuo Daren, you'd better get used to it. —Zhao Yuanzhou, Ep. 1
Oh my god what the fuck ep 25. Ohhh my god. I don't think I ever stopped going "holy shit oh fuck" for the entire forty minutes. My head is in my hands. Why is FoF experimenting with onscreen physical/emotional/mental whump at a frequency and intensity previously unknown to man? To my favorite character? 我前輩子得罪了誰??(Who did I wrong in my previous life??)
Quote from ep 1 because I had just re-watched it earlier in the day and those words came back to me not with any particular use towards interpretation but just as a characterization of—all of this. It is indeed difficult to bear.
Spoilers incoming.
Also spoiler for how I feel about this episode in case the sound of me wailing in lament in the distance makes it unclear: It was probably one of the most effective episodes for me thus far, personally. It struck many, many chords and did not stop for breath at all.
Honestly I'm kind of at a loss for words because I really, truly, did not expect shit would get so much worse for ZYC so incredibly rapidly. The speed with which the situation deteriorated broke the fucking sound barrier (I'm exaggerating, I'm being dramatic, but jfc I wasn't prepared). I apologize in advance if any of my reactions become a little bit repetitive, there are only so many ways I can express continuous distress and shock and despair.
My stomach dropped during the watchman attack scene. I can't believe how effective it was for me, this moment coming at the heels of ep 24, how that episode was a whole meditation on the goodness of ZYC's heart, his gentle and sensitive nature, the reasons why everyone loves him, the way things are bad but they will not break us and we may lose heart individually but we will persevere together.
And then in one single moment, all of that is threatened and very nearly destroyed. I felt every one of ZYC's dry heaves.
This drama is not one I necessarily go to for subtlety of intention, so the fact that I really had no inkling how at-risk ZYC's irreproachability would be in the coming episode despite being very invested in his arc made it all the more shocking and well-done, personally. They set him up as high as they could so they could tear him down as thoroughly as possible in an instant, and I did not notice the set-up at all.
I also have to say, I really appreciate PSJ. How quickly she cut to the chase about what he'd seemingly done, how she'd said the things that aren't just hard to hear but also hard to say. Because that's exactly what ZYC will care the most about. It seems to me her righteousness helped keep his own intact. In such a moment of complete and utter vulnerability and devastation, her moral clarity is as terrible as it is necessary and true to ZYC's belief system, just when it is most susceptible to collapse. And I say this not to mean that I think he is culpable for the supposed attack, given how much discussion the show goes into about culpability or lack thereof when not in one's right mind, but just that I find PSJ's moral compass to most closely align with ZYC's beliefs as he has been carrying them out throughout the show, and she keeps him from contradiction in a moment when it may be on everyone else's mind to spare him from the double-edged blade of his own righteousness. (Also, I may be reading too far into WX's statement later on that PSJ protected ZYC with her decision, but it could be interpreted that WX agrees or understands that as well on some level.)
And the fucking fact that all this takes place in front of a shrine for the Righteous God of Virtue and Blessing. As I said, I'm speechless.
(Speechless, she says, as she continues to ramble.)
Ouughhhhhh the reversals. ZYZ draping the cloak on ZYC this time. Fuck. The dungeon. Oh god. The way ZYZ loses more and more of his facade of calm, even just from his somewhat tense but understated distress in ep 24 to this unblinking, almost unseeing stare at ZYC in shackles.
Also, I'm glad for the moment PSJ and WX have to themselves once ZYZ proves ZYC's innocence. The way we get to see them navigating a situation so dire together despite its potential to push them utterly apart. PSJ's near-silent delivery of "friend" fucking kills me. It's loaded with so much emotion that neither the voice nor the term can truly handle that weight. That's art to me.
And then oh god, the Tianxiang Pavilion scene. I don't even know what to say. How everything spirals completely out of control. How we literally watch ZYC's worst nightmares play out. WX's first shout, the way I don't feel like I've heard that particular shade of emotion in her voice up until now, even with everything they've been through. Honestly, each of their expressions as the mob began to jeer and before they were separated was so effective. Ying Lei's indignation, PSJ's alarm, ZYZ's agitation, WX's fury. And the palpable panic as the crowd surged around them and pulled them apart.
I've watched this whole scene three times now. Every actor is giving their all here, and it's so impressive because this isn't at all the usual context of their angst and heartbreak. This isn't a decisive battle over life and death. The range of tragedy stretches so far in this kind of fantastical drama and yet they are able to create such tension and emotion that the shock of that first egg thrown has all the impact of a fatal wound. And it's worse in some ways because it means so little to an outsider and everything to this family.
That rage and helplessness in WX as she wipes ZYC's face and asks who threw it, when she says if the crowd goes any further, they'll fight back—her delivery is so raw. When I heard her lines, I felt the fantasy genre completely slip away for a moment and it became absolutely personal. Like, this point is getting a little away from mere commentary so please forgive the brief aside but those are words I can hear in my own family's voices.
Then, watching the very last vestiges of ZYZ's composure fully crumble away in real-time. God, I wish I could say something more substantive about ZYZ's entire reaction because it's so so good but I'm feeling levels of angst I truly don't know how to convey, which is really saying something given how much of an essay I usually write despite claiming I'm speechless.
Just. The way this is the most desperate and near-breaking we have ever seen them, in a completely different manner than the grief that has come before.
Alright, and then, the juxtaposition of the mob and the cheering crowd around ZYC?—yeah, that's when I started sobbing. As I've said before, the effectiveness, the efficiency, of TJR's acting. The way we can read every emotion off of young ZYC's face: his awkward pride, his self-consciousness, his bashful happiness. Even though this is a memory only recently and fleetingly alluded to in the previous episode and this is a ZYC we have never actually met, we know him and all his mannerisms and expressions so well. He is so alive with his character and so familiar, and then we cut back and, god, how unrecognizable everything is now. That absolutely broke me.
Finally, ZYC and Li Lun's conversation. Again, so so good and again, not sure I can offer much substance in my commentary to do it enough justice. I've been writing this commentary for over three hours now, so if my coherence is petering out, I do apologize.
This is so much of what I wanted and didn't even know I wanted from them, simply because they've been kept apart by the plot for so long. To see some of this come to pass is so satisfying. For Li Lun to claw so desperately at ZYC and try to bring him down, what that means about how he views ZYC's role in ZYZ's life right now. That this is twofold, to ruin ZYC and to be understood, and how he can never get the latter if he is still holding onto the former, wanting to pull others into the abyss rather than seeking a way to perhaps be pulled out of it. Li Lun is so precise in his brutality towards ZYC, digging his fingers directly into the worst of ZYC's fears, and yet ZYC is so insanely clear-eyed and incorruptible and incisive with his words in a way Li Lun has never experienced or had to combat (ZYC, articulate king fr). And for all of Li Lun's bluster as he continually makes to take the physical and conversational upper hand, how quickly that becomes a pitiful immaturity when ZYC truly fights back (in defense of ZYZ). Yan An plays this part so well, when he's looking up at ZYC.
And seriously, talk about ZYC delivering just the most on point monologues to struggling characters ever (ZYZ, Bai Jiu, now Li Lun), and doing all that after the day he's had?? To be honest, I don't know what direction this conversation will push Li Lun. I can see it go either way because yeah ZYC just basically rubbed in his face how alone and pitiable he is and how he'll never get what he wants out of ZYC, but at the same time I've never seen Li Lun so close to understanding why he has ended up alone, nor look so desperate enough to not be that he might end up making a different choice for himself. And just as Li Lun is that mirror showing ZYC the darkness of the abyss, ZYC must be reflecting to Li Lun how bright the dawn could be. (Oh the inextricable nature of character foils.) Even though ZYC has denied Li Lun the understanding he wants, he has seen through Li Lun so thoroughly that that is an understanding in itself.
And then oh my god. The reverting to Bai Jiu's voice and body. One of the most top-tier narrative choices ever. Li Lun, deconstructed by ZYC completely, is really so unbearably young in his heartache.
Okay, I think that's all I have to offer. I'm so wrung out, and I apologize if the quality of the commentary declined in the second half, but I hope some of this was enjoyable to read!
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loverslodge · 22 hours ago
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after the date
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Bucky was stunned by the way Steve had talked to you. He too felt like a prized pony but there had to be a better way of putting things, weren't there? One of them made you cry. Bucky couldn't remove the sight of your face when Steve said those things. He swore he heard your heart break. Your tears were an added bonus that wrenched his own heart.
Steve was seething. He felt used. He had the same feeling he had felt when he had broken up with Sharon. This was it, wasn't it? This was his life. A famous person, up on a pedestal, just to look good. But something else cracked. When he saw your broken face, he knew he overstepped, he knew he said things he shouldn't have. He didn't mean it like that. But you had left. Left before he could even realize he fucked up.
………………….
The journey back to the compound was eerily quiet. Bucky wasn't talking to Steve and neither did Steve initiate any discussion.
Bucky knew he should say something but he was too pissed off. If he started talking, punches would have flown with them so he kept quiet. Held himself off. He looked down at his hand to see the bag of books with that single rose you had given him in the morning.
Steve was fidgeting in the seat. He was holding the rose you had given him that morning. You had said you show how you feel because you were never good with words. Was this you showing something? Had he missed something?
As soon as the car stopped in the garage, Bucky jumped out and stomped in the compound. Steve ran after him to talk but Bucky had already slipped in the elevator and had gone up to their shared apartment.
As soon as Steve entered the apartment, a punch flew to his mouth, staggering him. He was ready to counter attack but seeing it was an enraged Bucky, he let it go. Steve did deserve a punch after what he did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you end a perfect date like that?” Bucky needed answers.
“It was the right thing to do. We were slipping way too much into her life. It was a fake date.” Steve went to his room and gently put his rose on the side table.
“Come out here. Talk. I'm not letting this behaviour of yours slide.” Bucky demanded.
Steve stomped out. “You are not my boyfriend to demand this kind of shit from me.”
“Is this what it's about? A pent up 100 year old hold up?”
“No. This is about us not addressing the issues. I was in love with Peggy and not you. You were just there and that kiss was a drunken mistake.”
“I don't care about any of that. Let's call it a mistake, fine. But what was that tonight? You made her cry.”
“I told her the truth.”
“There are ways of telling the truth, Steve. You are the gentle one. What the fuck happened back there? Why did you just jump guns?” Bucky walked very close to Steve. He wanted to slap his face and put some sense into it.
Bucky poked and pushed him with the question again and again because Steve kept on ignoring him.
“I got jealous, okay? I got jealous, thinking that there could have been more candidates and she would have picked someone else over us. Us, Bucky. I don't even care if she chose you. I was happy that it was me and you and not me or you. She accepted us together. But got jealous thinking if someone else had responded before us then she would've gone.” Steve ran his hands over his hair and face.
“So you weren't jealous of me being with her?”
“God no! I really liked seeing you with her. It made me happy to see you happy with her.”
Steve held Bucky by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. Steve was on the verge of tears for what he did to you.
“Then why the fuck did you say that to her?” Bucky asked him in a quiet tone.
“I got angry. I acted rash and dumb. I- shit. I feel so guilty. She was nothing but incredible. Every time there was sadness in her eyes, she would push it aside and smile for us. She did so well the entire day and I ruined it. I ruined her perfect day.” Steve sat with his head in his hands.
“Didn't we jump to this because it was all no strings attached and no expectations? Then why were there strings and expectations?” Bucky wasn't just asking it to Steve but to himself as well.
“Maybe because of her.” They both looked at each other, understanding what Steve was trying to say. “It was all her. She just- she's an angel, Buck. Sweet, kind and adorable little angel. If just looking at her made us think that then imagine how much we felt when we talked to her.”
“She drew strings without knowing. We were so confident in proving that we won't have expectations but her being unconditional about everything just broke our confidence, didn't it?” Bucky stared down at his hands. “She expected nothing. She even went as far as to open herself bare to us without expecting us to do something about it.”
“She was ready to leave us alone once the day was over, did you know that?” Steve looked at Bucky who looked at him with wide eyes.
“How do you know that?”
“I read her memos. She was getting gelato for us in the park and her memo fell out. She was detailed about today. She had written it down. Underline and everything! She really dove head first without asking for anything in return.”
Bucky and Steve sat in silence. Today had brought a lot of clarity to them. One of them being that they belonged together but not alone. They belonged together with you.
Sure, Bucky and Steve have had their moments with each other but they never talked about it. But it seemed like after today, there needed to be a lot of clarifications. Both of them spent hours talking and clarifying.
They were both in bed, next to each other. Still wanting to talk about the most important thing, you.
“So, I know we just started something new but what about Angel?” Steve really did want you in their lives.
“I was thinking the same thing. I know we have us but it feels, I don't know, empty. Today, with her, I felt like we were complete.” Bucky shifted and looked at Steve.
“You know, I felt so much at ease with her. Like she wasn't expecting me to just burst my heart open for her every two seconds. I felt very calm with her. I just wish I hadn't said those things. We would've gotten more time with her. Maybe talk to her. Ask her if she wanted this to be something real.”
“We didn't even get to say goodbye. You know, after the dinner, I was going to ask her if she would be willing to spend another day with us. I've never felt like this before, you know. Except with you. I felt very comfortable with her.”
There was a moment of silence between them.
“So we're okay with a third being with us. And we want that third to be her and only her. Correct?” Steve summarized their thoughts.
“Correct. Our Angel. We need to talk to her.”
“Do you think she'll want to talk to me after what I said?” Steve’s voice turned sad.
“Of course she will. We will not let a misunderstanding get in our way. We will win her back.” Bucky was determined.
“You know, I think I know why she came up with this no expectation thing.” Steve looked at Bucky
“Why?” Bucky was curious to know Steve’s interpretation.
“Because no one fought for her. After listening to her story, it's very clear. While she tried her best, when she left, no one was there to tell her to not go. It was as if nobody cared.” Steve had tears in his eyes.
“Then we show her. We show her that we will fight for her. We want her and she is it for us. We will show her. Maybe we can mend her heart the way she's mending ours.” Bucky patted Steve and rubbed his arm to give him confidence.
……………….
It had been two weeks since the date went horribly wrong. You had been in a sad rut since then. Many times tears welled up in your eyes thinking about the time you spent with them.
First three days you spent thinking about how you had been feeling the same way about the two of them. Whatever affection you were feeling for them was, surprisingly, in an equal amount. There was no leaning towards one over the other, it was leaning towards them.
You spent time trying to sort your affections. Two men? How? Is this even right? Are they together? It felt like they were. Was what you did right? Did you get between two people?
But then you slipped back into the dark thoughts not being loveable. Your mind went into overthinking how your past relationships made no attempt in exactly loving you. You aren’t just an arc of rainbow but you are also the rain. They only loved the rainbow.
You had spent two weeks mulling over your idea of love as well. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe you are looking for a broken love. But how could you not? You have become a broken person. You had become this shell of a love that kept on giving but received nothing in return.
It was Saturday and you were sitting in your favourite cafe, working on your laptop. Your table was littered with your heavily sweetened drinks. You might've been on your tenth cup, or that's what you assumed when you thought you were hallucinating two super soldiers swaggering towards you.
“Hey Angel.” Bucky’s dazzling smile was blinding you and your eyes were dry as is.
Bucky’s smooth voice was pulling you more into your dreamland. More like, you had been so stressed and sleep deprived that everything looked like a hallucination.
“Angel, are you okay? Your eyes are very glassy.” Steve crouched down to look at your eyes better. His heart wrenched at the sight of the redness of them and heavy bags under your eyes.
“Buck, I don't think she’s well. Maybe we should take her back to her place and talk to her next time.” Steve was getting very worried about you.
“I'm fine. Nothings wrong. I just…” and you were about to topple off the chair when Steve caught you by your shoulder and leaned you against him.
“Ok, that's it. Buck, grab her things and find her keys, we're taking her home.”
Your eyes were glassy but you distinctly remember Steve picking you up and Bucky smoothing out your hair from your face before they got walking.
Once they reached your apartment, Bucky carried you and your things while Steve had rushed to open your door. Bucky walked in and went straight for your bedroom and laid you down. You tried to get up to change but he just pushed you back on the bed.
“Please. I wanna change. Very uncomfortable.” You were feeling delirious.
“Angel, I don't want you falling.” Bucky held your waist as you made your way to grab your comfiest pjs.
“What are you doing, Angel? Get back to bed.” Steve walked in the bedroom to check up on you but seeing you walking around with Bucky supporting you concerned him.
“Let go. Gotta change.” You wriggled your way out of Bucky’s arms and stumbled into the bathroom, locking it.
“Angel, did you just lock the bathroom? You'll fall down. How are we supposed to help you?” Steve knocked on the door to make sure you’re fine.
“You're supers, you can break in.” You called out from the bathroom. You washed your face and finished your business. You stumbled a little but managed to grab onto the doorknob. You twisted it and stumbled out in the waiting arms of two super soldiers.
“Alright, Angel. Let's go to bed.” Bucky tucked you in the middle of the bed, making sure you have no way of getting up.
The two men were about to leave your room when your soft whisper traveled through the room. “Please don't go.”
Your small plea made them weak in the knees and they almost fell to their feet. You were definitely looking like an angel, laying on your bed with glassy eyes. They took off their shoes and got in the bed, one side each.
Their jeans brushed against your thighs and so you got a bit more aware. You pouted at Bucky and asked them to remove their jeans and shirts because they were making you uncomfortable.
They were shocked by it but did what you asked anyway. They were now laying beside you in just their briefs. You shuffled and turned to Steve who was looking at you just like you had always wished for and so was Bucky.
You put your hands on their cheeks and brushed your thumbs against their cheeks. “Please look at me just like that.” Your hands slipped down and you snuggled into the pillow, falling asleep in the warmth of two men who have been haunting your dreams.
……………………..
Bucky and Steve stayed right where you had asked them to. Tears slipped out of Bucky’s eyes.
“This is because of us, isn't it? We are the reason why she's exhausted. We hurt our Angel. We waited way too long.” Bucky wiped his face but the lump in his throat was there to stay.
“But we're here now. We will make it right. We will take care of her. We will never hurt our Angel again.” Steve brushed some stray hair out of your face.
You shuffled in your sleep and snuggled into Steve who immediately wrapped his arms around you and shoved you deeper in his chest.
“She feels so good, Buck. I don't want to let her go.”
“We don't have to. We will go down on our knees to win her if we have to.”
Although they wanted to stay in bed with you till you wake up, they wanted to clean your apartment for you. So they both slowly got up from bed and were about to slip out when a few laminated papers caught their eyes.
They both walked to look at what it was and their mouths stayed agape. Those were the pressed roses. The same roses that they had gotten her. The roses still looked fresh and pink but pressed. Two roses had Bucky’s name on them and the other two had Steve’s.
“Every time we think she’s human, she does something that makes us think she's an angel.” Bucky walked back to bed and kissed your temple. Steve also kissed your temple before they slipped out of the room and took over the cleaning.
While Steve was cleaning the house, Bucky went to the kitchen to cook a fantastic meal for all. He had noticed your sweet tooth for chocolate so he also decided to make chocolate muffins. You surprisingly had all the ingredients for baking but not much for cooking. Bucky sent Steve to buy ingredients to make lasagna and till then he whipped up cupcake batter.
Bucky occasionally went to your room to check how you were doing. You shifted from one side to another but overall you were sleeping peacefully. Bucky was still only in his briefs and your cute pink apron.
Your eyes fluttered open and you looked around. You knew that it was too good to be true. You must've walked home and went to sleep. Why would they come here? You gave them nothing but grief and made them feel like you were a prize to be won which was untrue. You weren't a prize, never have been.
A smell of vanilla and chocolate hit your senses and you panicked. Who the hell is in your apartment? You tumbled out of the bed and ran in the kitchen to find a very beefy back staring back at you.
“Angel! You're up!” Bucky turned around and gave you a heart-stopping smile.
“Bu- James! What are you doing here?” You were flabbergasted.
“Angel, call me Bucky. I've told you before.” He put the tray in the oven and set the timer.
“But-”
Bucky walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Call me Bucky, Angel.”
“Bucky,” you gulped and your voice softened. “What are you doing here? And, um, is it… is it just you?” Your eyes were wide with curiosity and somewhere, at the back of them, hurt.
“Nope, not alone. Steve has gone grocery shopping for lasagna and I think I also told him to bring pizza with him.” Bucky cupped your face. “You asked us to stay, Angel and we weren't going to leave. We came to talk.”
You pried yourself out of Bucky’s arms and stood at a distance. “I- ok, well, once Steve is back, you both can leave. Sorry for all the inconvenience i caused. You don't have to do anything.”
“Angel, what-”
“I'm back! I got the pizza! Lets wake up Angel and get her to eat and-” Steve sensed a tense situation.
“She wants us to leave.” Bucky’s voice had turned into a whisper.
“What?! No! Angel, no! I- we don't want to go. We want to stay, talk.” Steve just started to beg.
“Why? You don't like me, I'm just a burden. Whatever happened to me today is my problem, not yours. Sorry for troubling you but you don't have to be polite. I'll manage.”
You had withdrawn yourself completely. You didn't deserve whatever they were giving you. You shouldn't be getting between them. You shouldn't even think about them. They deserve better than anybody but you.
“Angel? Baby? What are you talking about?” Steve walked closer to you, trapping you between him, Bucky and the wall.
“I'm just telling the truth. You don't have to take care of me. I dont des- you don't need to do this. Don't be gentlemanly. I appreciate you bringing me home but I've been a burden enough. I don't want you to feel obligated about anything.” You were fidgeting with your oversized t-shirt, unable to look them in the eyes.
“There is no obligation, Angel.” Bucky came closer and moved hair strands out of my face.
“You're not a burden. Why would you think that?” Steve put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed his thumb against my clavicle.
“It is true. Otherwise I wouldn't have put the two of you in any of those awkward positions on that day. You accepted because you expected a normal day out and I ended up making you do things against your will.” Tears ran down your cheeks as you looked at Steve. “You were right, Steve, I am looking for a broken love because that's what I deserve.”
Steve’s heart broke hearing you say that and Bucky’s eyes welled up. They had sent you off to the deep end without even realizing. They should've come to you sooner.
Steve and Bucky dragged you back to your room because you were hysterically crying, unable to breathe. They wrapped you up in your blanket. Both of them moved to each side of you and pulled you closer with your back resting on Bucky’s chest and your head resting on Steve’s.
“Angel, if you would please give us a chance to talk. We have a lot to say and it's not what you think. Will you listen?” Bucky asked the question in such a whispered voice, you couldn't help but nod your head against Steve’s chest. Your breathing had calmed down and their touch was very soothing.
“First of all, you are not a burden and you don't deserve broken love. We just- we got jealous.” Steve started putting sentences together. “Bucky held off his jealousy but I couldn't. It made me think that you had a better shot with someone else and my imagination started running wild.”
“Steve thought, and I did too even if I didn't say it out loud, that if someone else had accepted your email request then you would have picked them over us. That idea didn't sit well with us. We wanted you all to ourselves.” Bucky continued.
You sat up straight and looked at them. “But why would you get jealous?”
“Because, Angel, we fell in love with you.” Steve’s confession stopped your heart. You looked at Bucky with wide eyes expecting it to be a joke but the soft smile on his face and a nod told you it wasn't.
“We had accepted your request because it gave us a chance to experience a romantic relationship for one day without strings and expectations. That's what we thought till we actually met you.” Bucky looked at you adoringly.
“We saw you the first time and we thought what we felt was infatuation. But as the day went on, we drowned in your smile, in your laughter and all the little things you did.” Steve moved hair out of my face. “The first time we realized we were falling in love, it was at the park when we sat together. That entire time felt so… domestic, homey.”
“All that time falling in love with you, we forgot you still thought what was going on was fake.” Bucky intertwined your fingers with his. “So when you talked very casually about things, Steve got pissed and said things he shouldn't have.”
“I'm so sorry, Angel. I was being an idiot. I had never felt this way before. So at home with someone and it pissed me off that someone else could've had my home. I got jealous and I got possessive.”
Steve pressed his forehead against yours and Bucky did the same. “We're very sorry, Angel. Please forgive us.”
“But should I say sorry?” You slowly pull away to look at them. “I played with your feelings, didn't i? I should be apologizing for making you think that it was real.”
“So, it wasn't real?” Just one look in their eyes and you knew you had broken their hearts in a million pieces.
“It was! For me it was but I thought you thought I played you and I kinda did if we look at the semantics.” You started to ramble. You wanted to fix whatever this was.
“Angel, if it was real for you and if it was real for us then that means you haven't played us.” Bucky pushed their actual agenda forward. “And even if you were playing with us, which you werent, it would have been a privilege to be played by our angel.”
“Our?” You had been hearing them mentioned as theirs, not Bucky’s or Steve’s but theirs.
“That's what we actually wanted to talk about.” Steve sat up straight. It was time to ask you what they have been meaning to ask. “We have been talking about this, adjusting to this new… idea. We thought it was wrong at first but one of our dear friends helped us figure things out.”
“He means Natasha. Black Widow. Blond hair, murderous eyes, kinda okay face.” Bucky started giving you the context.
“I know who she is and she's hot. Don't put her down like that.” You used to have a crush on her before it had drifted off but you didn't need to tell them that.
“What? I-”
“Buck, not the time.” Steve put his hand on Bucky’s chest to stop him. “Back to the point. We thought hard and we only thought of you-”
“Gross.” You made a playful face that earned a chuckle from Bucky and an eye roll from Steve.
Steve pulled you closer to his body, causing you to yelp in surprise. Then you felt a pressure on your back and saw Bucky leaning his entire self on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“We want you to be with us, Angel. Just us three and no one else.” Steve’s chest rumbled with confession and you found yourself blushing. “Would you like that? Being with us? You, me and Bucky?”
“None of that is going to happen if I die under the weight of an old metal person.” You groaned playfully and tried to shove Bucky over, only for him roll on you entirely, crushing you against Steve.
“Bubye Steve. This is the end of the line for me. I'll see you on the other side.” Your muffled speech could be heard through your groans. “Write on my tombstone. Death by Bucky, a heavy cuddler who wouldn't leave his girlfriend room to breathe.”
Hearing you say the last line. They both sprang up and looked at you.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Did you just say you're our girlfriend?” Bucky asked excitedly. If they had tails, it would've wagged itself off their asses.
You rolled your eyes at them and smiled widely with blush creeping up your cheeks. “Yes.”
They both attacked you in a hug and made sure to leave you room to breathe. You couldn't help but giggle and laugh at their excitement.
“We promise not to mess things up this bad.” Steve kissed your temple.
“But I do want to see the list of men whom you sent the emails to. Gotta know whom to brag against.” Bucky pulled you closer to his chest and kissed the crook of your neck, making you shiver.
All three of you got up from the bed and made your way to the kitchen because your stomach wouldn't stop making rumbling noises.
Once they had fed you well, their words, not yours, all three of you chose to cuddle back in your bed to watch one of the many rom-coms that were your favourites. You looked at both of your sides to see them intensely watching what made you happy.
“Hey guys,” you said, making them look at you. “Thank you so much for looking at me like that.”
“Always, Angel. Forever and always.”
45 notes · View notes
zepskies · 2 days ago
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@lamentationsofalonelypotato
Aww I'm so happy to hear that, friend!! 🥰🥰
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It's not a problem Dean, (the gun is obviously BUT) she is beautiful and you will love her and I will cry at your wedding.
Ehehe it's funny you mention their wedding...
Dean no. No feeling bad for saving your girl and for killing the "sack of shit in human clothes."
Ugh right? Trust, he doesn't regret killing that bastard loll.
Also I didn't notice the Colonel Sanderson thing before and now all I can think about is KFC lol.😂 Which is not to take away from how good this fic is or how well it's written. It's just me lol.
Actually THANK YOU for noticing that because Colonel Sanders was an intentional reference! lmao I saw some meme that called Asmodeus "Bullshit Colonel Sanders" and it made me cackle, so I included that a little bit here. 😂😂
Oh goodness she is already so protective of him and oh my word the wink had me melting lol.
See! It's not taking that long at all for her to start softening up towards him loll. At the very least, she doesn't want to see him killed for her after killing for her.
I also don't think that I mentioned this before, but I really like how you wove in the other characters in the show. Seeing Benny and Cas show up just made me so happy.
Aww thank you!! 🥰🥰 When it comes to AUs, I try my best to fit in canon characters where they make the most sense to me, and try to make them feel "as themselves" as possible.
Oh my word seeing that fight in my head, um... YES PLEASE. And the loyalty?! The love for their friend?! The "Goodbye brother."? It's so good.
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Imagining Dean in uniform, even if he's fighting his friends, just does things to me too loll.
Ultimately, Benny and Cas are good men even in this world, and they didn't want to have to bring in him or Mila to the Colonel either. 💜
She's squishing his face! That is so cute, oh my stars. Plus I am cackling at how long it took him to be able to say her name.
Ahaha this was my favorite part to write for this chapter! Dean struggled, bless his heart. 🤣🤣🤣
I absolutely love this! I really love it when writers pick the names of their characters based on the meaning behind it. And the fact that you gave the meaning of her name a backstory of her mom having a dream and the butterfly meaning that Mila "would have a free mind" is just so perfect for her. Because she is stubborn and she does have "a free mind" by being rebellious and strong, by being a strong female character who does not conform to the whims of what other people deem to be appropriate for her. Also it was funny that Dean thought she was like a "lioness."
Aww thank you!! I'm usually pretty conscious of names and the meanings behind them, but especially in this story I got deep into the research of the Lakota people, and I found that names are very important to their culture, now and historically.
When I was looking for a name for her, Kimmímila stood out as being beautiful (with a nice nickname), but perhaps on surface level didn't reflect her true personality. So that's why I worked in that backstory with her mother's dream, vs. who she wanted her daughter to be, and who Mila considers herself to be. And bonus, what Dean observes of her! lol
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So I absolutely love all of your observations here, because that's exactly what I intended for her!
This is a really wonderful line, that the war "never really ends." It really fits this story and honestly it really fits the entire early history of the United States when it was acquiring territory and embracing the "manifest destiny" ideals.
Aww thank you so much!! That's what I thought as well, not just for this story, but for the greater context of U.S. history during this time and the push to industrialize the entire country.
Okay, the whole part where she is explaining things about her life and her culture was so sweet. Them opening up with one another is just so soft and a little fluffy and I'm so glad that they got to have those gentle moments with one another. Not to mention this bit where Dean admits how much he likes listening to her, is just so good lol. And I thought it was really on brand for him to be a little upset that she doesn't completely trust him yet, even though that he killed one of his men. But he's got to learn to be patient... and then propose. LOL.
That was so fun for me too! The "getting to know you" aspect. I thought that opening up to one another was needed here, and it gave an opportunity for more historical tidbits!
Ahaha yep, she's a hard nut to crack, but Dean need only be patient. He's won a lot more brownie points with her than he realizes. 😏 "And then propose" -- I'm weeeak!! 🤣
Don't be afraid to admit it Mila, we all know how good he is to look at. And why shouldn't you look at your future husband? 💍
Ha!! Ikr?? Also, you're getting dangerously warm to what's coming in Part 3. ❤️‍🔥
Oh my sweet goodness, the TENSION!! This is so good my friend and I am so excited for what the future of this series holds and am praying that it doesn't end in death!😬💗
The romantic tension is real!! lmaoo
Thank you so, so much, friend!! Part 3 is my favorite part, I think, and I hope you'll be happy with the outcome, even though we've got a fair bit of action and angst ahead...
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The Honorable Choice - Part 2
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: “Getting to know you, getting to know all about you…” ⬅️ If you’ve seen The King & I, then you’ll probably be singing that line in your head like I do.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 3.1K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, protective Dean, historical tidbits, fluff
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
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Part 2: Death & Sacrifice
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and the hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock… 
He just can’t do it.
His finger eases off the trigger of his gun, and he lowers it to the ground beside him.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Her head tilts as she stares at his gun, then at him. She relaxes somewhat, and she backs off of him, sliding from his lap down to the grass beside him. Her closed fist with the knife comes to rest at her side. She gives him a look of wary bewilderment.
“You are a strange man,” she says.
Dean has to laugh a little, smiling at her afterward.
“I guess so,” he replies.
Her brows furrow. “You killed one of your own…for me?”
He nods, and his smile falls with a weary sigh. The hard part about that is he doesn’t feel much guilt about what he’s done. At the same time, he does, and the conflict churns in his stomach. He knew what kind of man Roman was. He was the kind of soldier that could’ve filled Colonel Sanderson’s shoes one day. A fellow soldier under Dean’s command...
And a sack of shit in human clothes.
Dean leans back on his hands in the grass and slides his legs out long. His stare falls to the earth between his boots. The ground is soft underneath him. Maybe it rained this morning. 
“Yeah, that’s gonna make it tough when I go back,” he says. “At best, that’s a court martial. At worst…”
The Lakota woman frowns, her dark brows nearly meeting in the middle as she considers him. He wonders what she sees when she looks at him.
“Tell you what,” Dean said. “Give yourself and your horse a rest tonight. I’ll go back and tell them I lost you in the canyon.”
Her eyes widen further in surprise. He can’t blame her for it. He’s surprising himself every time he opens his mouth.
“Will they kill you?” she asks.
Dean shrugs. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”
She levels him with a firmer look, one that demands the truth.
His nonchalance wanes, and he sighs.
“They might,” he says.
She shakes her head. She seems to deliberate over something, but eventually she comes to a decision. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, a gunshot rings out and hits the ground not far from their feet. A warning.
The sound of hooves thundering on the earth reach them before they look up. Two horses gallop towards them in the distance, their riders wearing blue uniforms.
They both tense up, but Dean is the first one to move. He grabs her arm and helps her stand along with him. They scramble back and lead the horses by their reins further into the trees. They find a denser patch and a raised hill to crouch down and hide behind.
The mustang is too tired to go very far, but Baby is already making anxious sounds, protective of her rider.
“Shhh,” Dean whispers, and runs a soothing hand over her side. He leads her to lay down with her legs tucked underneath her.
The Lakota manages to do the same with the mustang after whispering to him softly in her language. There’s a trust between them, Dean realizes. They have a connection that seems to mirror his own with his horse. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.
“Captain!” Benny calls out.
Dean grimaces, but he stays quiet. He turns to the woman and holds a finger over his lips. She stares back at him in apprehension. He begins to creep slowly around the hill, but she grabs onto his wrist. For a second, she looks just as surprised as him by the reflexive action. Then, she shakes her head at him.
Don’t go out there, her eyes say.
Dean smiles, and he gives her a reassuring wink. He gently removes her hand and gestures at her to stay where she is. He army crawls up the side of the hill. It gives him a vantage point to watch his men, who approach just a few feet down below. 
“Captain Winchester!” Cas calls next.
“We don’t want to have to come and get you, Dean. Come on,” Benny says. He does sound reluctant, for his part. His voice grows more somber when he says, “Colonel’s given us orders to bring you and the girl back…dead or alive.”
Dean knows the position he’s put his own men in. He doesn’t blame them for following the Colonel’s orders. He just hopes they can forgive him for what he’s about to do.
He leaps off the edge of the hill with a yell and brings Benny with him to the ground. He sweeps Cas’s legs out from underneath him, then tosses a punch that lands on the corner of Benny’s chin. He kicks Benny’s gun away, and wrestles Cas until his pistol falls from his hand. The three men scrap and trade blows, until Dean is the only one left standing. His men are groaning on the dusty ground, slowly picking themselves up.
Dean’s heaving for breath as well as he leans back against the side of the hill. Despite that momentary victory, he knows what they all know: that this fight isn’t going to end until either they’re dead, or he’s dead.
“Where’s the girl, Dean?” Benny says. He implores him to see sense. “We take her back with us, we can smooth all this over with the Colonel. All of it, even Roman.” 
Dean lets out a deep breath, but he shakes his head.
“Can’t do that, Benny,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a question circling in his friend’s eyes, but after a beat, Benny seems to know the answer to it. He picks up his gun from the ground. Just like Dean once did, the Lieutenant now has a choice to make.
He shares a heavy look with Cas. The two of them nod, before they focus back on Dean.
Benny’s hand falls, and he stows his gun.
“You died today,” Benny says. “We found your body somewhere in the canyon. Your horse too.”
Dean nods, with something of a smile. He supposes faking his death is the only option now. He rips the badge off his uniform jacket and tosses it to Benny.
“There’s your proof,” he says.
Dean shares a grim nod of respect with Cas while Benny examines the torn patch denoting a captain’s rank.
“Take care of each other,” Dean says.
Benny’s head raises, and he meets Dean with a somber gaze.
“Goodbye, brother.”
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Dean doesn’t return to her until the men are out of sight through the trees. She’s still hiding along with the resting horses, waiting for him. That alone surprises him. It would bring a small smile to his face, if the weight of that goodbye didn’t feel so heavy on his shoulders.
He reaches out a hand for her. It takes her a moment to consider it, but she accepts his offer.
He helps her to her feet, after which, she quickly pulls her hand back. She’s wary of his touch, her face guarded when she looks up at him. Dean supposes he can’t blame her, even if it does strike a nerve. After what he just did for her…
His face becomes stoic, and he turns away to grab his hat from the dusty ground. “We should probably head out.”
She nods and calls to her horse to encourage him to his feet. Despite himself, Dean can't help but be curious. How did this girl manage to tame that wild beast?
“Does he have a name?” he asks.
“Mato,” she replies.
“Mato,” Dean echoes. “Does that mean something? You know, in your language.”
She eyes him wryly, brushing her hand over Mato’s hide.
“It means angry, like a bear,” she says.
Dean snorts. “Yeah, good name.”
He remembers his bruised side (and ego) from when the mustang threw him off his back.
Dean watches her with another realization as she gracefully mounts the horse. Baby has gotten up to her feet as well, already nudging the back of his arm with her snout. He rubs her nose in affection.
Then he turns to climb up onto her back, settling his feet into the stirrups and loosely grabbing the reins. He follows his companion’s lead farther into the forest, but he guides his horse to fall into step beside hers.
“Will you tell me your name now?” he asks. “Think we’ve been through enough together at this point, don’t you think?”
She considers it with a tilt of her head. She looks over at him with a small smile.
“Kimmímila,” she says. The syllables roll off her tongue effortlessly.
Dean raises his brows. “Kim…Kimmeela.”
She shakes her head at him, her lips pursing.
“Kimmímila.”
Lord help him, but he tries his best. His brows furrow.
“Kim…mila,” he attempts. She guides Mato closer and grabs Dean by his cheeks with one hand.
“Kimmí.”
“Kimmí,” he repeats with his cheeks squished. His face is starting to warm up, and not altogether in embarrassment.
“Mila,” she says with a nod.
“Mila,” Dean says. “Kimmímila.”
He’s treated to her smile, warm and true. She releases him, her gaze flitting over his face. Then she keeps riding. Dean grins to himself.
“Think I’m gonna call you Mila,” he says. Make it easier on myself.
She even laughs, a honeyed sound. “Yes, my father does too.”
“What does it mean? Your name.”
“In your language?” she says, in a tone that teases him back. She becomes thoughtful as she searches for the word. “It means…butterfly.”
“Really?” Dean remarks. She doesn’t strike him as a butterfly.
More like a lioness, he thinks, only somewhat holding back his grin.
She gives him some side-eye, despite her amusement.
“You think it does not suit me,” she observes.
“Well, I didn't say that—”
“I don’t think so either,” she admits. “There are many things that don’t suit me.”
Dean chuckles. He can imagine that.
“But my mother had a dream before I was born,” Mila says. “She saw beautiful wings, and said I would have a free mind. When I grew, and wanted to spend my days with horses more than cooking and sewing things, she didn’t call me free. She called me stubborn.” Her face begins to fall. “Maybe too stubborn.”
Dean offers her a rueful, sympathetic look. “Yeah, I get it. My brother always said I was damn hardheaded,” he says. “…Maybe we’ve got more in common than we thought, huh?”
Mila’s smile returns, however slightly.
“You have a brother?” she asks.
“Oh, yeah. He’s a lawyer, so he’s more needed back home,” Dean replies.
Damn. He really does miss his bookish little brother.
He explains to her about his family, his brother and mother who still live in Lawrence, and how he joined the army, in part to honor his father.
“What happened to him?” she asks.
“He died…in some cornfield near Sharpsburg, Maryland, fighting the Confederacy,” he replies, heaving a breath.
"Con...federacy?" she questions.
"The South," Dean explains. "See, most of our southern states thought they should be their own country, letting slaves plow their fields and mind their kids. I may have lived on a farm, but my father always paid his workers. He fought for the Union."
"So you fought among yourselves, over land that did not belong to you," Mila points out.
Dean falls silent. After a little while, he concedes her point with an incline of his head.
"Fair enough," he says, glancing over at her. “I think my dad thought the fighting would end with the war, but, uh...it never really ends, does it?”
Her expression of curiosity fades, turning more solemn.
“No,” she agrees. “…I am sorry for your father.”
Dean's a little surprised to hear that from her, but he nods his thanks. They continue to talk as the sun begins to set in the west. When it dips behind the canyon, they stop to make camp for the night, and he helps her catch a rabbit to roast on the fire they build together.
That night over the meal, she slowly opens up to him. He learns that she’s an only child, though she has a sibling-like bond with her older cousin, Šóta. She spends most of her days planting or harvesting their crops, depending on the season, as well as sewing, painting, helping the elders of her tribe with tasks, and helping her mother and aunt cook.
When the rabbit is gone, she unbinds her long, thick hair and untangles it while she speaks. She explains that the Lakota are just one of many tribes. There are six other bands of Sioux who live in this region. Along with the Dakota and the Nakota, they are the “Seven Council Fires” who have made the Great Plains their home for generations.
She tells him about the way her tribe lives, caring for one another, giving the land back as much as they take, and letting it rest. The men hunt and protect the village from the outside, but the women protect the inside, their way of life.
Most of all, Mila tells him, she loves caring for the horses. She goes out and rides whenever she can duck out of her mother’s watchful eye.
Dean enjoys listening to her stories. He likes what he learns about her, but also, he just likes the sound of her voice, smooth and steady, almost calming. He thinks she might like the sound of his too, the way she’s smiled at him, laughed with him, glanced at him when she thinks he’s not looking.
She still picks a spot as far away from him as she can to sleep though. She keeps the fire pit in between them. He even catches sight of her knife, hidden in the hand she tucks underneath her cheek. Evidently, she doesn’t fully trust him just yet.
It annoys him at first, considering how many times he’s saved her already. How much he’s sacrificed just to get them this far…
Until he remembers how they met. He remembers the disdain and anger in her brown eyes, then the mistrust, and the fear hidden underneath. He thinks of every experience she’s likely had so far with the U.S. Military, and anyone else who looks like him.
Dean settles down on the ground and stares up at the innumerable stars in a raven sky. He’s exhausted, but his thoughts don’t let him rest for a while. 
At the very least, the way she looks at him now is softer than that first day.
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In the morning, Mila watches the strange man wake.
He blinks and rubs his bleary eyes, yawning, groaning at the sun’s brightness like a child. She hides her smile by bowing her head over the apple she’s cutting with her knife. The orchards span wide across the forest, and soon he’ll find two yellow-red apples beside his head.
His brows raise at them, then he looks up at Mila sitting with her legs crossed behind the small fire pit. The wood there is just ash and blackened remains now, but it still carries the smell of burning.
“Morning,” he greets.
She nods back at him and pretends not to watch when he sits up with a groan, stretching and bending his arms high behind his head. He removed his uniform jacket to sleep. It allows her to see every dip of male muscle that his plain white shirt clings to, even in the long sleeves.
Her gaze furtively runs over the broad shoulders, the tapered waist, then back up to his half-bearded face, defined by a strong jaw and dark brows. The sun catches on his brown hair and teases the ends of it golden.
She would never admit it, but he’s not unpleasant to look at. 
Last night, she declined his offer to travel with her until she reaches her tribe safely, but he was insistent. Again, strange.
So here she is, with him. Here they are. 
Dean turns to see the horses grazing nearby. Mato no longer has the saddle and bridle his men put on him. He looks rested and at ease. He even whinnies at Baby, tossing his head a little. She answers him and flicks her tail. They continue eating together.
Dean smiles, then grabs an apple. He raises it to her in thanks before he takes a large bite. Its juices run down the corner of his mouth, and he wipes at it with the back of his hand. Mila can’t help but be drawn to the sight.
She tears her eyes away when he looks over at her.
“We have a long way to go. Three days, if the weather is good,” she says, continuing to carve pieces of her apple to eat. “We will know we are close when we reach the river.”
Dean nods in understanding. With a grunt, he gets to his feet and takes another bite out of his breakfast. She doesn’t expect the way he approaches her with a hand outstretched. She looks up at it, then at his expectant face.
“Come on. Let’s hit the road then,” he says.
Mila considers his offer for another moment. He seems to be making this a habit. Amused, she wonders if this is just kindness, or if the women of his people aren’t allowed to stand without a man’s help.
She pockets her knife, swipes her braided hair over her shoulder, and slips her hand into his, allowing him to help her to her feet. When she gets there, he’s closer than he should be.
A breath gets trapped in her throat as she once again looks between his warm hand closed over her smaller one, and his face. In the small space between them, there is a different kind of tension than before. Mila can’t tell what the man is thinking when he looks at her like that, but she doesn’t like it.
And at the same time, she does.
She takes back her hand, and she goes to the horses. She firmly ignores how her heart gallops, even as she rubs at her chest like it’s an ache that can be soothed.
She doesn’t hear Dean’s unsteady breath, nor does she see the way his green eyes follow her.
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AN: *rubs hands together* Well, here they are! It's all starting to come together. What did you think of Dean's decision?
Coming up next, we have the final part: some action, some fluff, and some potentially perilous situations for Mila and Dean...
Next Time:
“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”
Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.
“I will protect you,” she says.
Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.
“Mila…”
“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”
Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.
COMING 11/17! (New chapters every Sunday.)
Or read Part 3 on Patreon now!
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Series Tag List + Dean W. (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms
@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19
@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @kaleldobrev @spnwoman
@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28
@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka
@chevroletdean @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24
@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley
@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice
@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof
@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers
@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly @artemys-ackles
@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean
@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378
@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat
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slytherinshua · 11 hours ago
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⇅ A-Z BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS ( 得能勇志 )
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genre fluff , headcanons , yushi x reader   cw mention of marriage (in like a future type of way) , fighting (nothing extreme) , jealousy , crying , not proofread & probably messy at points   wc 1679   request yes   note first time trying a fluff alphabet and honestly these are really fun !! i may do more for some other idols (although i did skip x cause it was giving me too many difficulties lmao)   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet
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A ミ AFFECTION
yushi is fairly affectionate with you. he chose you and he always wants to remind you of that. you can see his fondness for you in his eyes or the gentle way he holds you. he doesn’t need to say much for you to feel his affection, but he will tell you on occasion as well.
B ミ BEFORE DATING
yushi most likely started out as your friend before dating. he doesn’t like to rush into things, and he would want to feel sure about who he chooses to date before he does it. knowing that he works well with you and loves spending time with you would quickly grow into romantic feelings. 
C ミ CONFESSION
he would tell you how he feels simply and straight forward, and then let you decide what to do with the information. he’s ready to face rejection but he’s also hopeful. but the last thing he wants to do is put any kind of pressure on you, so he’s a bit cautious and careful with his confession. his heart would of course be racing like crazy anticipating what you’ll say in response, but he doesn’t let it show on his face how nervous he is. 
D ミ DATES
he’s a really good planner and would make sure to plan time for dates just as often as you do. he saves the fancier dates for more special occasions, like your birthday or anniversary, though. weekly dates would be more casual, like dinner and a movie, or just a game night. but he always makes sure that there’s some activity to enjoy together, because he really values quality time with you. 
E ミ EYE CONTACT
eye contact is important to yushi. not to say he stares at you often, but he’ll always find your eyes in a crowded room or subconsciously look for that subtle contact. your eyes relax him. he can never survive staring contests, though. he’ll crack up immediately. but natural eye contact could last for longer, and he may even zone out while staring at you on occasion </3
F ミ FIGHTS
fights with yushi are rare because he’s very grounded and level-headed. he’d much rather talk through any problems than let it lead to an argument. he tries to take into account your emotions and feelings without compromising his own, but sometimes it can be difficult. you both know what is most important for your relationship, and ultimately don’t let petty arguments come between you both. fights could be a bit more common in the evening when you’re both tired, but yushi will never let it go unresolved for the morning. he hates sleeping mad at you. 
G ミ GIGGLES
you are always making yushi laugh, more than anyone else. mostly because your humours match up perfectly. he’ll laugh when you’re intentionally trying to make him laugh, but he’ll also giggle at random things you do that he finds cute. his laughter always comes from a place of affection.
H ミ HUGS
he’s a casual hugger. if you’re cuddling on the couch, it would most likely just be holding hands or resting your head on his shoulder rather than his arms wrapped around your body. just a little bit of physical touch is enough to satisfy him. he’ll hold you tightly if that’s what you want/need though.
I ミ I LOVE YOU
i love you’s are saved for sentimental or romantic moments. he may slip them into a conversation at times, but they aren’t a set of words he uses lightly. to him, they hold a lot of weight and meaning, and he really wants you to know that when he says it, he really means it.
J ミ JEALOUSY
he doesn’t get jealous often, but when he does, the feeling surprises him. he’s perfectly fine with the other guys spending time with you, whether it be playing games, eating together, or just talking. but what does strike a nerve with him is seeing any of them hug you or especially if sakuya or ryo tries to rest their head on your lap. he’ll push them away from you in an instant. his jealousy is rare but strong, only because you mean so much to him. 
K ミ KISSES
yushi loves kisses!! whether giving or receiving he doesn’t care. he loves the ticklish feeling of you peppering kisses all over his face. he loves the butterflies that grow in his stomach when you kiss him deeply, hands tangled in his hair. he loves kissing your hand as a silent way to say thank you, and he loves when you kiss his cheek in the middle of a conversation. 
L ミ LOVE LANGUAGE
his love languages are quality time and acts of service. due to his busy schedule, it’s often hard to spend quality time with you and he hates that :( but he tries to make it up by doing as much as he can for you. he tries to make sure he’s taking away stress from your life rather than adding to it. whether it be doing small chores or simple tasks for you, he makes sure he’s contributing positively to your life as a way to tell you that he loves you.
M ミ MARRIAGE
marriage isn’t something he's thought about often because he’s still very young. but he does definitely see himself getting married in the future. when the time is right and you’re both in the right phases of your life, that’s when he would most likely tie the knot. he looks forward to spending the rest of his life with you as husband and wife, but he isn’t in a rush. he likes to enjoy your current relationship as it is first. 
N ミ NICKNAMES
his nicknames or pet names for you would probably just be variations of your name. common pet names like baby or love don’t feel exclusive enough. during cute or casual moments, he’d call you a nickname. during more romantic or serious moments, he’d just call you by your name. there’s a certain intimacy and closeness that comes with it, and he likes that. 
O ミ OBSESSION
he’s obsessed with your heart. he values how other people act and care for people around them. he’s never met someone more thoughtful and caring than you, and it's one of the main things he admires about you.
P ミ PDA
he hates pda, especially around the other boys cause they’ll definitely tease him. he might hold your hand but that’s the most he’ll do to be honest. he’d rather save the romantic gestures and words for when there’s no one else to watch, because they’re just for you and you alone.
Q ミ QUESTIONS
he wants to know everything about you, especially in the beginning of your relationship. he’s like a curious cat about you, eager to find out what’s most important to you and all your habits. there’s a big sense of satisfaction once he can see that you love and value him as much as your other most favourite things. 
R ミ ROUTINE
yushi and you have created routines together like eating dinner together whenever you can, doing your skincare together, or even morning kisses before work. the simple structure is almost necessary amidst both your busy lives. it’s a small sense of calm and something to look forward to.
S ミ SENTIMENTAL
i think he looks forward to the future more than reminiscing about the past. he finds it cute to think about your moments together as just friends or in the beginning of your relationship, but he doesn’t miss it too much. he values the connection that you’ve built from all the time you’ve spent together, and the present moment is more precious to him than past memories.
T ミ TEARS
he doesn’t really cry often. he’s just not super emotional in that way. he also finds it a bit embarrassing to cry in front of other people, the same way he doesn’t like pda. you may be the exception to that, but seeing yushi cry would still be rare even for you. when he needs comfort, you’re the first person he will go to, though.
U ミ UNDERSTANDING
yushi tries hard to understand everything about you as best he can. your feelings, emotions, situations. but there is a lot of communication to get to that point of understanding. it's not immediate to him from just a glance what you’re feeling, so he would more likely ask you.
V ミ VULNERABLE
he’s very vulnerable with the people he trusts completely, and you are definitely one of them. he’d never keep secrets from you and would confide in you for advice or comfort if he needs it. he’s more guarded with people he doesn’t trust, so he often keeps things to himself, but he’s like an open book with you.
W ミ WHOLE
yushi definitely feels complete when he’s with you. like a missing puzzle piece, everything fits into place when you are together. he can certainly function without you, but there’s always a little piece of him that only you can bring out. he’s never more comfortable than when he is with you, and you know exactly how to put his mind and body at ease. he’s at his best with you.
Y ミ YEARNING
he only realizes how much he misses you once he’s back in your arms. he’s so focused on whatever he’s doing for work that his emotions wouldn’t even have a chance to distract or overwhelm him. you may cross his mind throughout the day of course, but he only vocalises how much he missed you in person when you’re no longer apart. 
Z ミ ZZZ
napping together may as well count as quality time for yushi. he gets tired and needs his sleep, but he’ll sleep better if you’re next to him <3 since it's rare to get multiple hours free to spend with you, he at least wants to feel close to you while he rests. he’s extra cuddly when tired. the type to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. somewhere close enough to smell your soap or shampoo since he loves those scents.
nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,
@haecien,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @hursheys,, @mjupis,,
@lilly-cherry7,, @kpopandbookschild
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 days ago
Text
Denial, Like the River
A Steddie fanfiction
A/N: Minors DNI. Warning, a little smutty. Tw, homophobia
Steve entered the RV, wincing at his wounds. He closed the door and locked it. He slipped off his jacket and then his shirt before grabbing the first aid kit. Just as he opened the box, he heard a loud whimpering. Steve paused and looked around for the sound. Was there an animal in here? He quickly found the source. Eddie was curled up behind the driver's seat, crying.
"Eddie?" Steve asked in concern.
Eddie stood up quickly and wiped his face. He grabbed the first aid kit from Steve.
"Here, let me help you with that," Eddie said, sniffling.
"Are you - no, what a stupid fucking question. Of course, you're not okay," Steve said, and Eddie snorted. "How are you holding up?"
There was a long pause as Eddie focused on unwrapping his bandages and cleaning his wounds. He was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed ointment on his bites. Eddie turned him around to work on the wounds on his arms and back as well. Even though it stung, Eddie's hands also felt good.
"Honestly, trying not to go crazy and trying to stay sane for the kids, too," he finally replied.
"Oh, man, you don't have to do that. I think they don't want to admit how scared they are, hell, I'm scared, too," Steve said.
"You are?" Eddie asked as he finished putting the new bandages on Steve.
Steve turned around to face Eddie again and leaned against the table.
"Of course, just because we've all been through this before doesn't mean that this isn't still terrifying as shit for all of us. I think we've just gotten used to focusing on what's important, and that's saving this town. . .saving you," Steve said. "Man, Dustin's terrified of losing you. He loves you, and I can kind of see why. You're not alone, Eddie."
Steve hated the way his bottom lip quivered and the way his big brown eyes filled with tears. They were very doe-y eyed. The tears spilled over, and Eddie let out a sob. It broke Steve’s heart.
"Everything I touch - Chrissy - I, I'm fucking cursed," Eddie cried.
"No, man, you're not cursed, this fucking town is," Steve said softly.
He stood up and pulled Eddie into his arms. He squeezed him tightly despite the fact that his wounds were killing him. Eddie's body shook as he cried into Steve’s shoulder. Steve cradled the back of his head and began running his hand through his hair. Well, he tried to. Eddie's hair was badly tangled. Eddie winced and hissed as Steve’s fingers snagged at a knot. They both laughed, and that brief moment of comedic relief allowed Eddie to catch his breath. The sniffles subsided, and Eddie went quiet as he continued to keep his head tucked in the crook of Steve’s neck. Eddie let out a sigh as he pulled back. Steve freed a hand and wiped away Eddie's tears, causing a smile to appear on his face. Eddie moved, and suddenly, they were kissing. Everything went blank and fuzzy. There were no thoughts in Steve’s head as he immediately responded to the kiss. It took him a few seconds, but Steve finally realized what was happening. He pulled away.
"What are we doing?" Steve asked.
"You never made out with a friend before?" Eddie asked.
"No," Steve said. "Have you?"
"All the time with Jeff. We're nerds who can't get girls. . .I mean, except that one girl who slept with me as a dare. We like to call it lip hugging," Eddie said and paused, looking sad. "I thought maybe, Chrissy. . ."
"I'm sure she would have, man, without it being a dare. You're hot. . .for a guy," Steve said, and Eddie laughed. "And you're a good man."
"Thanks. . .and thanks for the lip hug, man," Eddie winked. "You're really good at it."
"Thanks for patching me up," Steve said with a smile, and Eddie moved to leave. "Eddie?"
Eddie turned around to face him, looking happier than he did before.
"Yeah?"
"Are we - I mean, are we friends?" Steve asked.
Eddie moved closer to him and brushed a knuckle to Steve’s chin.
"Definitely, big boy," Eddie said and placed a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before bouncing out of the RV.
"EDDDIEEE!"
A chill shot through Steve as he came back from the Creel House with Nancy and Robin when he heard Dustin's scream. Their victory of defeating Vecna and watching his body burning to a crisp was short-lived. Steve shared a look with Nancy and Robin. He didn't hesitate. He took off, running in the direction of Dustin's screams. Dustin was leaning over Eddie's body when they found him. Eddie was covered in blood, surrounded by bat bites, and lying so still. . .Steve felt a cold feeling shoot through his chest. He collapsed next to Eddie.
"Steve, he's not breathing," Dustin sobbed.
Steve felt his stomach wrench, and he wanted to throw up at the look in Dustin's eyes. Steve pressed his ear to Eddie's chest and cursed. He told him not to be a hero, and what did he do? Steve immediately started to perform CPR. Eddie gasped against his mouth and Steve tried not to think about the last time he felt Eddie's lips against his. He pulled back.
"Eddie's breathing! Get to the gate! Now!" Steve yelled as he pulled Eddie into his arms. "Before it closes!"
Nancy and Robin immediately helped Dustin to the gate while Steve did the same with Eddie. He wasn't sure how he was managing to carry Eddie to the gate, but he could guess that it was adrenaline. They helped Steve get Eddie through the gate, and they didn't wait to watch it close before rushing to the hospital. Everything after that happened so fast. Them wheeling Eddie away, not being able to see him, Hopper coming back, and Dr. Owens storming in with a cover story. While most people seemed to buy it, there were still others who weren't quite believing it. So, while Eddie needed to finish his healing, Steve was quick to offer up his house to hide Eddie. He offered it up to Wayne, too, but he said he was staying with a friend, and judging by the way he said it, Steve figured that this friend was a special one. He did give Wayne a key and told him he could stop by whenever he could, which he did. Steve loved it. It felt a lot more cheerful with them both hanging around.
"What's on the tube?" Eddie asked as he plopped on the couch.
It's been several few weeks of healing for both of them. Although Steve had gotten finished faster than Eddie. Their scars were still quite hard to look at it and it was definitely hard to wear shirts, so they went shirtless whenever they could. Steve and Eddie were currently shirtless now, sprawled out on the couch.
"Absolutely nothing," Steve sighed.
"Bummer," Eddie said, crossing his arms, and then glanced over at Steve. "So, you never said how you feel about things ending between you and Wheeler again."
"Actually, it went better than before. We were both a lot more honest with each other, and we're both happy that we tried again. We no longer feel ashamed about what happened that night, and we both know now that we'll always love each other. We, uh, both want different things. So, actually, I feel really good about it," Steve said.
"Well, that's great, man, really," Eddie grinned. "I, uh, never thanked you."
"For what?" Steve asked.
"For carrying me out of hell," Eddie said. "For saving my life."
"I was happy to do it, Eddie, I'm glad you're here," he said softly.
Eddie leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve’s. He cupped the back of Eddie's head and responded eagerly. They haven't done this since the RV, and honestly, Steve had been looking forward to it. He missed the feeling of Eddie's lips. He groaned when Eddie pulled back.
"I just want to thank you, Stevie," Eddie said. "What better way than to give you another lip hug?"
"I'm going to need another hug," Steve whispered.
"Gladly," Eddie said.
"There's nothing on TV anyway," he said.
"Noted."
Eddie climbed into his lap, placing his legs on either side of his hips. He kissed Steve, matching his eagerness from earlier. Steve gasped into his mouth, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. He placed his hands on Eddie's hips, encouraging him to move them. Eddie rocked his hips and grinded against his clothed hardening cock. A feeling of euphoria rose up inside of Steve. He never felt like this with another man. . .well, he never had another man ride him like Eddie was currently doing. Although there were times with Tommy when they would wrestle, that Steve’s stomach and chest would grow warm. He always chalked it up to getting hot. No, Steve was even warmer than those times he rolled around with Tommy. He moved his hands up Eddie's back and then to his stomach to move them up, gently caressing his scars.
He cupped Eddie's nippleless pec, running his thumb over the scar. It was just as good as cupping a breast. The way Eddie shuddered underneath him told Steve he liked it, but he stopped moving his hips, and his kissing grew softer. Steve broke the kiss, pulled him closer, and shifted him until Steve was to face where Eddie's nipple used to be. He kissed the spot gently at first. Eddie sighed and moaned, curling his fingers into Steve’s hair. He grew more passionate with his kisses, opening his mouth over it. Steve took the bit of skin in his mouth and sucked on it like he would a nipple. Eddie let out a curse. Steve knew he wasn't completely healed yet and that there was some pain, so he pulled back, but Eddie tugged on his hair, keeping him there. Steve bit down.
"JESUS H CHRIST!"
Steve smirked as he pulled away, looking at Eddie.
"You can just call me Steve," he replied.
Eddie flashed his dimples at Steve before sliding off his lap and down to the floor onto his knees. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s sweats and boxers. Steve watched with interest as Eddie started sliding them down, and he lifted his hips to help Eddie out. He peeled them all the way off, leaving Steve naked before him except for his socks. Eddie spread Steve’s legs apart and looked down, his eyes dark.
"Big boy, indeed. . .it's not gay if I say it's not gay especially if I'm only thanking you for saving my life, right?" Eddie asked.
"Sounds logical to me," Steve said.
"Hmm, looks like it could use a hug."
Eddie dove between his legs, taking Steve into his mouth.
"Fuck!"
Over the next few weeks, it all escalated from blowjobs to hand jobs, grinding naked against each other until it turned into full blow sex. Steve loved every minute of it. He loved the way Eddie manhandled him, and at the same time, he could be so gentle with him. He loved the way that they both switched as well as fought to be underneath or on top, biting each other and marking each other up along the way. They fucked in the showers, in the kitchen, and on the couch. They had luckily managed to avoid getting caught by Wayne. There were suddenly many situations where there was nothing on TV even when there were tons of stuff on. They didn't talk about it, what they were, or what they were doing. Steve should have known, though, that it was all over when Eddie started going out with Jeff and Doug.
"Oops, Sorry!" Steve heard a giggle come from the hallway and the sound of something breaking.
"Don't worry about it, my roommate's cool with it," Eddie said.
Steve was relaxing on the couch after working all day and giving rides to Dustin. He had hoped to finally cuddle on the couch with Eddie after not seeing him for the past couple of weeks. Eddie had gotten busy working on playing with Corroded Coffin again, and while he has been practicing here, he's mostly been practicing with the guys. Now, it was the first time he was seeing him, and Eddie had brought a girl home. What the fuck? Steve watched as Eddie moved past the entryway, kissing the girl and moving her back against the doorway. She had long strawberry blonde hair, and that was all he could see. Suddenly, Eddie broke the kiss and spotted Steve.
"You don't mind, do you?" Eddie asked.
Steve swallowed his hurt and smiled at him, as well as the bubbly girl in Eddie's arms.
"No, I don't."
"Except that you totally do mind," Robin said.
Steve was stacking videos a week later, and according to Robin, he was stacking them rather angrily.
"No, Robin, I really don't. It's basically his house, too," Steve said. "For whatever reason, they're taking a really long time to find Wayne and Eddie a place."
"Maybe Wayne moved in with his special friend and assumed that Eddie was happy living with you," Robin said.
"I mean, I would be happy if that was the case," Steve said. "I like having Eddie there."
"You don't seem to like having his girlfriend there," Robin pointed out.
"Rebecca is a really nice girl," Steve said. "I don't have a problem with her."
"Maybe you're just jealous," Robin said.
Steve’s eyes snapped to hers. Did she somehow know? He hadn't really been able to explain to Robin about what's been going on because he couldn't exactly tell her when he didn't know himself. . .especially about Eddie. No, she couldn't, right?
"What?" Steve asked.
"Eddie suddenly became your best friend while I've been busy getting closer to Vickie, and now you no longer have that. Plus, you're lonely, and you totally wish that you could have what we have," Robin said.
"Right, yeah," Steve scoffed.
"What did you think I meant?" Robin asked.
"Nothing, Robin," Steve said.
"Oh my God!" Robin exclaimed with wide eyes, and Steve cursed. "You have a crush on Rebecca!"
"Yeah, Robin. You got it. That's it," Steve scoffed again.
"Then what is it? I mean, judging by the way you're acting and your absolutely annoyance of Rebecca, I'd say you're jealous that she's with Eddie and you're not," Robin said and then snorted. "God, I make myself laugh sometimes. You're like the straightest man alive."
"Oh, yeah, Robin. You got me! I'm totally in love with Eddie! I want to kiss him and hold him. I totally want to marry him and have his babies," Steve rolled his eyes. "I wish I was Rebecca."
With a jolt, Steve realized that what he had said hadn't been sarcastic at all. He wanted all those things with Eddie. He thought about how he was with the kids, how he rants, how passionate he was, and despite how scary he pretended to be, he was the softest man alive, especially when he was with Steve. He missed being held by Eddie. He missed talking intimately with him, and he hated that Rebecca probably got to do all that with him. Except that Rebecca and Eddie hadn't known each other that long, so how intimate were they being? Does she know about his asshole of a father and Eddie's fear of turning into him? Does she share the same fear with him that Steve does about his own father? He wonders if she holds Eddie after a nightmare the way Steve used to do but now no longer gets to. He hates the idea of all of that and he hates being reminded of it when he hears them fuck through the walls. Oh god.
"Except that I - ," Steve swallowed thickly, looking at Robin with wide eyes. "Except that maybe - "
Robin stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping in shock. Just as Steve was working up the courage to finish that sentence, the bell above the door rang as a customer entered. Steve stumbled as he went to greet the customer, almost blurting out the old Scoops Ahoy greeting as he did so. Steve could feel Robin's eyes on him all day, but she didn't push him to talk about it. He wondered if somehow he had always known about it but chose to ignore it. Steve’s thoughts turned to Vickie and remembered how adamant he had been about her liking girls. Did he somehow know then?
"Steve, are you even paying attention to me?" Dustin asked.
"What? Yeah, yeah, you were going on and about how cool Rebecca is," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "I still can't believe Eddie introduced Rebecca to you guys without talking to me."
Several weeks later, Steve was currently driving Dustin to Gareth's house for their Hellfire meeting. He didn't know why Eddie couldn't drive Dustin, but he supposed it was so he could make out with Rebecca in the back of Eddie's van.
"Why are you acting like you and Eddie are divorced parents?" Dustin asked.
"I'm not! I'm just saying a heads up would be nice!" Steve exclaimed.
"What's your problem with Rebecca, anyway?" Dustin asked.
"Nothing!" Steve yelled, gripping the steering wheel. "It's just - he's been spending all his time with her, and even though we live together - I, uh, I miss him. I miss him, okay?!"
"Well, shit, that makes sense," Dustin said, and then he grinned. "I knew you would like him!"
"I'm obsessed with him, and I definitely would call him my best friend," Steve said.
"Well, you know, he misses you, too," Dustin frowned. "He says you keep turning him down when he asks if you want to hang out with him and Rebecca."
"Have you seen them together?" Steve asked.
"They are pretty gross," Dustin said, scrunching up his nose. "But he said he's in love."
"He said that?" Steve asked, feeling his stomach drop.
"Yeah," Dustin said. "It's pretty obvious."
Steve had dropped Dustin off to find Eddie's van in front of Gareth's house. Eddie was leaning against the van, Rebecca pressed up against him as they laughed and kissed. They broke apart, and Eddie's eyes caught his. Eddie threw up his hand to wave, but Steve quickly backed out without looking at him and drove away. A few weeks later, Eddie announced that he was moving in with Rebecca.
"What?" Steve asked.
They were standing in the kitchen, looking for something to eat for dinner when Eddie dropped the bomb.
"Yeah, I figured it was time for me to move out. I mean, your parents probably are going to come back, despite what you think," Eddie said.
"They are definitely not coming back," he scoffed. "Do you not like living with me?"
"I don't think you like living with me," Eddie said.
"I love living with you!" Steve exclaimed.
"It doesn't seem like it," Eddie scowled. "Ever since I got with Rebecca, you've made it pretty clear that I've made myself too comfortable."
Eddie couldn't be this clueless, could he? Hell, Steve was pretty clueless for the longest time, so maybe he was.
"I miss hanging out with you, Eddie. . .without Rebecca!" Steve snapped, and he couldn't stop what happened next.
Steve cupped Eddie's face and smashed his lips to his, pouring everything he had into the kiss. He pulled away, looking at Eddie, who winced.
"Yeah, Rebecca says it's not cheating to get your guy friends off and hug them, but she still doesn't like it. She says it's gross," Eddie said. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."
Well, Rebecca had been such a nice girl, and for a moment, he had been guilty about being jealous and about kissing Eddie, knowing they were together. Now, he didn't feel guilty at all. Now, he wanted to rip out every single strand of hair from her head.
"Is that what you think we've been doing?" Steve asked in disbelief.
"We're not gay, Steve, so of course, that's what we've been doing," Eddie said.
"Well, we're not gay but we're definitely something," he said. "I mean, don't you feel it?"
"No," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm in love with Rebecca."
Looking at Eddie right now, it felt like Steve had been transported back to that Halloween night in Tina's bathroom with Nancy telling him he was bullshit and that she didn't love him. It was the same punch to the heart that he had felt back then. God, Steve was stupid. He never felt as stupid as he did right now.
"I think - I think I'm going to take a nap," Steve muttered.
"Steve - ," Eddie started to say.
Steve walked out the front door. He didn't say where he was taking a nap, did he? Steve didn't realize that he was crying until he was halfway to Robin's, and his whole body was shaking so hard that he stopped the car for a moment. He managed to contain himself enough to continue driving. When he pulled up and got out, he could hear the sound of Robin's voice, as well as Vickie's coming from the backyard. Shit. He should turn back.
"Oh! I think I heard the sound of Steve’s car pulling up! Get your ass back here, Harrington!" Robin yelled.
It's too late now. Steve followed the sound of her voice and found her relaxing on the back porch with Vickie sitting between her legs.
"Hey," Steve said quietly. "Sorry, I didn't realize - "
"Shit," Robin said, getting up. "What happened?"
"I'm in love with Eddie," Steve said, his voice breaking.
Steve spent the next few days at Robin with Robin and Vickie working around the clock to try to lift his spirits. God, he loved Vickie. Just because she was Robin's girlfriend didn't have any obligation to be there for him. She clearly wanted to. When Steve finally returned home, all of Eddie's stuff was gone, and his key was on the counter. It nearly broke him again. There wasn't even a note.
"What did you do?" Mike asked.
A few weeks later, Nancy was away at Emerson, so Mike was now depending on him for rides to school with Lucas and Dustin. At least, on days when their parents couldn't do it. Today was one of those days.
"Why would you assume that I did anything?" Steve asked.
"Because you're you and Eddie's Eddie," Mike said. "He seemed pretty upset, and he was the one who moved out."
"Well, why would Steve be the one to move out? It's Steve’s parents' house," Lucas said.
"Besides, Steve’s not like that," Dustin scowled. "He wouldn't hurt Eddie."
"At least not intentionally," Lucas said.
"Steve hated people like us in high school," Mike said.
"And what reputable source are you getting that from?" Steve scoffed.
"Just. . .from people," Mike said.
"Yeah, I didn't have the greatest friends. They were assholes but I always tried to stop them from doing stupid shit. No one ever talks about that because people only see what they want to see. They see a guy who has everything. . .and they assume the worst about people like me because it's easier for them to believe that I'm an asshole rather than just someone who's just a person who tries to do what's right but who always been slow to realize what's important so he fails. Just like everyone else. I've always tried to stop Tommy and Carol, but the one time that I didn't. . .no matter how many times I apologize for that. . .it doesn't matter. It'll always be held over my head. . .no matter how many times I sacrifice myself and my health, I am never going to be enough," Steve said.
"You also broke Jonathan's camera," Mike pointed out.
"Oh my God! I apologized for that! I gave him a new one. I reacted out of anger, and I should have let Nancy handle that, considering. . .I don't suppose Jonathan told you why I broke his camera," Steve said.
"No," Mike said.
"Of course, he didn't," Steve said. "Look, I like Jonathan now, I even respect him and call him a friend, but he's not exactly a saint. . .There doesn't have to be a bad guy in situations like this. . .sometimes, shit just happens. Maybe you should get a ride from Jonathan from now on if you hate me so much. . .For the record, I never hated people like you in high school. Never."
"I don't hate you," Mike said softly.
"Then I don't get it," Steve said.
"Me neither," Mike said. "I'm sorry."
"Steve," Dustin said. "You're crying."
"I know."
"I'm really sorry, Steve," Mike said. "You are more than enough. I swear."
Mike had apologized profusely after that, and Steve had forgiven him, but it still left him feeling off. He wondered how many people still hated him for what happened in high school. Is that why Eddie's friends wouldn't come over to the house? Steve wondered how long he was going to be blamed for the actions of other bullying jocks, of not having the ability to know every single person in the school. No, fuck that. He was done apologizing. If people couldn't get past their own views of him, that their problem, not his. Steve was lounging out by the pool when Wayne showed up and sat in the lawn chair next to him.
"Hey, kid," Wayne said.
"Eddie's not - ," Steve said.
"I know, I came to see how you were holding up," Wayne said.
"I'm good," Steve shrugged.
"Well, that's a load of bull," Wayne said. "Something's eating you up, and I already know what it is."
"Eddie," Steve mumbled.
"Yeah. . .I hate that Rebecca," Wayne said.
"What?" Steve asked.
"Well, she's clearly homophobic, not that anyone can see that. Not even Eddie," Wayne sighed.
"That's because - ," he started to say and he quickly cut himself off.
"Yeah, I know. . .I know my boy, I was hoping he'd come to terms with himself and come to me when he was ready," he sighed again, and then he scowled. "She can say whatever she wants to me, but when she makes remarks like that towards Eddie. . ."
"You just want to rip all the hairs out of her head?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Wayne replied with a snort. "I don't know what happened, but you were better for him than she was. Don't look at me, like that, I've seen the way he looked at you and the way you looked at him. There's something still there."
"Yeah, I don't think so," he said.
Wayne sighed and stood up, pulling Steve up to his feet.
"No matter what happens, you're my boy, too," Wayne said. "I can never think you enough for doing what you did for me and Eddie. You're a good kid. Don't give up on him. He'll come around."
Wayne pulled Steve into his arms and hugged him tightly.
"Thank you," Steve whispered.
Wayne ended up being right. A few weeks later, Eddie ended up in his doorstep in the pouring rain. Steve had stepped aside to let him in, but Eddie had quickly turned around, muttering under his breath. Steve chased after him, the rain soaking him immediately. He grabbed Eddie's arm and turned him around.
"I want to come back," Eddie said.
"What about Rebecca?" Steve yelled over the thunder, and the pouring rain.
"I broke up with her," Eddie said.
"Why?" Steve asked.
"She's not you," Eddie said.
"What are you saying?" Steve asked.
"I'm saying that I'm in love with you!" Eddie said.
Steve smiled, despite the fact that the rain was ruining his hair and that there was a definite chance that they could get sick tomorrow. There was a dreaded weight being lifted off his shoulders now.
"I'm in love with you, too," Steve said, moving towards Eddie. "Wait. What are you doing? Stay still."
"Nope! No way! There's no way I'm going to be a fucking cliche!" Eddie yelled as he ducked away from Steve’s arm.
It took him a minute, but Steve laughed when he realized where Eddie was coming from.
"Come on, Eddie! Give me a kiss!" Steve yelled.
"Nope!"
Eddie dodged Steve’s arms again, bobbing and weaving in Steve’s front yard. Steve ran after him, trying to stop him from getting to the front door.
"Eddie!" He giggled.
"I am NOT kissing you in the rain! That's too much!" Eddie shrieked.
"Oh, come on, you already told me you loved me in the rain. You're halfway there!" Steve said.
Eddie slipped in the mud but managed to get caught in Steve's arms. Steve squeezed him and smiled down at him.
"Ugh. . .don't you fucking say it, Harrington," Eddie said.
"Looks like you fell for me," Steve grinned. "I'm going to kiss you now."
"Don't you dare!"
Eddie didn't stop him when Steve leaned down and kissed him. In fact, he returned the kiss with a furious passion. Steve broke away, laughing.
"You're a fucking cliche, Eddie Munson," Steve said.
"Gah!"
The next day, Steve was right. They both got sick, but they both felt like it had been worth it. Wayne, Robin, and Vickie immediately came over to nurse them back to health. Plus, Steve was pretty sure they wanted to hear the story in person and get Eddie's stuff back from Rebecca. The three of them had laughed so hard when Steve told them how Eddie ran from him in the rain. Robin plopped down on the edge of Steve’s bed, Eddie lying next to him, as Wayne and Vickie went downstairs to make them some soup.
"Yeah, so, Rebecca is definitely homophobic," Eddie revealed.
"I fucking knew there was something about Rebecca that I just didn't like and it wasn't just because the slutty little tart was trying to steal my best friend's man," Robin said.
"You hear that, Stevie? I'm your man," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.
"Yeah, baby, you are," Steve said before sneezing so hard that his head hit Eddie's.
"Ow!"
Wayne and Vickie came back with two trays of soup. They laid them down in front of them, Wayne tucking in both boys and brushing their hair back.
"You boys eat your soup and don't worry about a thing. We're going to get Eddie's stuff," Wayne said.
It didn't seem like they were gone very long, but it could have been because Eddie and Steve had nodded off as soon as they finished the soup. They woke up to the three of them moving Eddie's things into Eddie's bedroom. Robin was carrying a box, bloody tissues hanging from her nose.
"What the hell happened?" Steve asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Well, Rebecca wasn't too happy about us trying to take your things, so she put her hands on Vickie and called her the 'd' word," Robin said. "I had no choice, really. I had to punch her."
"It was so sexy," Vickie said.
"I brought you back a trophy," Robin said and dropped strands of strawberry blonde hair onto the bed. "Don't worry, I left behind most of it."
"Damn," Eddie grinned. "Go, Buckley. Thanks for doing all of this."
"Don't worry about it, kid. You boys just focus on getting better. No more kissing in the rain," Wayne said.
"I told you nothing good comes from kissing in the rain," Eddie said to Steve.
Wayne rolled his eyes and gathered up the soup trays, taking them out of the room.
"I'm glad you guys figured out your shit," Robin said as she put away Eddie's things. "Although, for the longest time, I didn't know there was shit to figure out."
"I'm sorry that we were so clueless," Steve said with a grin.
"Ah, you're forgiven. Easily," Robin smiled.
"Still not gay," Eddie said.
"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "We've admitted that we're in love with each other. How are you still in denial?!"
"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie cackled. "I thought I was being funny. We're a little gay."
"Do you guys not know what I am?" Vickie asked, squinting her eyes at them.
"Uh, a redhead?" Eddie asked, and Robin snorted. "Unless. . .you're not?"
"Babe, did I not tell them? I could have sworn that I did," Vickie said as she helped put Eddie's clothes in Steve's drawers.
"I don't think you did," Robin said.
"Well, I'm bisexual. I like men and women. . .OH, CRACKERS!" Vickie yelled as she accidentally closed her thumb in the drawer.
"Crackers? What's a cracker?" Steve whispered to Eddie.
"Maybe it's someone who's both a man and woman?" Eddie asked in confusion.
"Maybe it's someone who's got no gender at all," Steve said, snapping his fingers.
"But why would they be called crackers?" Eddie asked.
"Because crackers have no gender," Steve said.
"Makes sense," Eddie said.
"Does it?" Robin asked. "What's wrong with you?"
"Crackers also have salt, and tears have salt in them," Steve said.
Robin frowned and pressed her hands to their foreheads.
"Wayne! Their temperatures have spiked!" Robin yelled.
"I found the medicine!" Wayne yelled!
"We'll talk about it again when you guys are feeling better," Vickie giggled.
The next day, once their fever had broken, they had talked about it at great length. . .about what it all meant for them. Steve was curled up on Eddie's chest, running his hands gently over his scars.
"I bet Jeff never got this far," Steve said.
"No, not even close. That was just lip hugging. . .oh my god, I can't believe how dumb I was," Eddie laughed.
He sighed as his boyfriend pressed kisses into his hair. Steve giggled. Boyfriend.
"Lip hugging. . .it's cute," Steve said.
"So, why did Dustin tell me that I need to kill of Mike's character?" Eddie asked.
"Oh, Mike was just being an asshole teenager, and he was just being protective of you," Steve said.
"Dustin said he made you cry," Eddie said.
"Oh, I mean, yeah," he said. "But it's fine, you don't have to kill his character."
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't at least try?" Eddie asked. "God, I'm so fucking lucky."
It was the first time hearing it come from Eddie's mouth. He climbed up and straddled Eddie's wasn't, kissing him deeply. It felt so much more real now that they were no longer in denial. The walls they had put up were falling down around them as they fell into deep acceptance, wrapping up in each other's warm embrace.
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mustainegf · 1 day ago
Note
reader is insecure about her appearance and Jase comforts her :')
FIRST JASON FICCCC!!!!!
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ¹⁹⁸⁷
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I watched him across the room, his back to me, scribbling down notes on a scrap of paper he'd found on the coffee table. Jason was lost in his own head, humming a bit to himself, tapping his fingers on his knee. That was Jason for you, dedicated. I loved it so much, but a part of me couldn't help but sometimes wonder how someone like that could have ever fallen for someone like me.
I turned away from him to look at my reflection in the mirror, and I caught sight of the small curve of my stomach, the way my thighs touched, how I never seemed to look like the girls in magazines.
The rational part of my mind could recognize that I was being too hard on myself, but at that moment, another voice inside me had almost grown comfortable to tearing myself apart. I let out a sigh that was a little too loud, and he must have heard it, because the next thing I knew, there Jason was right beside me, his hand on my back.
"What're you thinking?" he asked, his voice low and soft, as it was only when it was just us. His calloused fingers slid along my arm, warm and comforting.
"Nothing. Just…" I replied, though my voice cracked, belying me. He narrowed his eyes slightly, seeming to see through me. Jason would sometimes have this weird feeling for things, like he could tell the storm brewing in my head when I hadn't even said anything.
He spun me round to face him properly, his hands coming to rest on my arms. "I don't buy that for a second," he said, his lips twitching in a little smile. But his eyes held that softness that always melted my heart. "C'mon, what's bothering you?
I bit my lip, looking down. "I just...I don't know. I was looking at myself, and I guess I just don't feel good about how I look right now. It sounds stupid I know, but it gets to me."
Jason was silent for a moment, just easing his hands down to take mine. His thumbs circled over my palms in gentle arcs, soothing me, anchoring me. "Hey," he whispered, leaning his head down to look at me. "Listen, it's not stupid. It's real and I get it. But it's also not true. Not even close... you know that right?"
I shrugged, feeling my throat well up into a lump. "You're just saying that because you're nice, Jase. I mean look at the girls around you all of the time, the ones at your shows, the ones in the magazines. They're perfect. I just… I don't measure up."
He shook his head, and I could almost see the sad tinge in his eyes. "Those girls?" He waved his hand like he was shooing the very idea away. "They're not even real, babe. Half of 'em are pretending, the other half don't even know what they're getting into. And anyway, that's not what I want. You're what I want.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he leaned in closer, his forehead pressing softly against mine. "I know you're not seeing what I'm seeing," he said softly. "You're kind, and funny, and smart, and you're beautiful. And when I'm with you, that's what matters."
My face grew hot, and I couldn't force away the tiniest smile, though I knew I wanted to stick to my skepticism. "You make it sound so easy, Jason."
"That's 'cause it is." He chuckled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I'm not saying this 'cause I think it's what you need to hear. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that's the first thing I think every time I wake up next to you."
My cheeks flamed red, but his words picked at the lump in my chest until it slowly unwound. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone. Not those girls, not anything in the world."
Jason wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close and I buried my face in his chest, letting myself just feel his heartbeat steady and strong against me.
He leaned back just far enough to cradle my face between his palms, his eyes delving into mine. "You're perfect to me. Every fuckin' inch, every curve, every part of you that you think is to big or too small. And even if you can't see it yet, I'm here to remind you, every single day if that's what it takes."
My throat constricted, but this time it wasn't from the insecurity. It was something else altogether, something warm. I nodded, burrowing my head against his shoulder as the words soaked into me like a sponge.
Jason didn't let go. He just kept holding me, and for a long time, we stood there wrapped up in each other.
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creamflix · 2 hours ago
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❤︎ — choso kamo likes it in purple !
content warnings: established relationship. soft!dom reader, very submissive bottom choso. use of "squirting" strap-on, reader "cums" inside choso. slight corruption kink? he believes he's been bred. heavy feminization (choso is referred to as "girl," and having a "pussy.") breeding kink (?). prostate stimulation. lots of praising. begging, desperation. dirty talk. reader is implied to be wearing a strap-on but can be read as having a d1ck.
event masterlist ❤︎ general masterlist
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as the words leave choso’s lips — so pure and hopeful you can’t even believe he’s serious — you freeze for a moment, unsure if he’s joking or genuinely believes this. there’s a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks as he waits, breath held in anticipation.
“you know… men can’t actually… get bred, right?” you try, keeping your tone soft, not wanting to break his heart if this is news to him.
his brows knit together in confusion, eyes darting to yours. “they… they can’t?” the innocence in his voice nearly undoes you, the hopeful naivete in his words so raw, so sweet. “but… i thought… you could… you know, fill me up like that.”
you bite back a smile, his innocence wrapping around you like a soft blanket, tugging at your protective side. “welll, there’s another way to do something close to that,” you say, gently trailing your fingers down his arm. “it’s… different, but it can still feel just as good.”
he tilts his head, intrigued but still a little lost. “different? what do you mean?”
you take a small breath, careful not to sound too eager, knowing how fragile this moment is for him. “it’s something called pegging, and it’s… well, i’d be the one… filling you up,” you explain, your voice dropping to a gentle, almost coaxing tone. “i’d take care of you, make sure it feels good. all you have to do is trust me.”
choso’s eyes widen a bit, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. there’s a glint of hesitation, but it quickly melts into something else — a spark of curiosity and excitement that he can’t hide.
“so… i just have to relax, and you’ll do everything?” his voice is quiet, laced with uncertainty, yet there’s something undeniably eager beneath it, a soft flicker of desire mingling with his innocence.
“that’s right,” you assure him, brushing a thumb over his knuckles in reassurance. “just let go, and i’ll take care of everything. i promise.”
the weight of your words sinks in, his gaze searching yours with wide, trusting eyes. he’s so vulnerable, so open, like a blank canvas ready for you to leave your mark. it stirs something deep within you, a protective desire mixed with a thrill, knowing you’re about to guide him through something so intimate, so new.
“okay,” he whispers, voice barely audible, his cheeks a warm, rosy hue. “i trust you.”
you smile, a gentle yet possessive warmth blooming in your chest. “good. we’ll go slow, make sure you’re comfortable every step of the way. just focus on how it feels, yeah?”
his nod is small, but the way his eyes darken slightly, that glimmer of curiosity overtaking any lingering nervousness, tells you all you need to know. he’s yours to guide, to corrupt just a little, and he’s eager to let you.
“you’re gonna do amazing, choso,” you murmur softly, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he melts under your touch, the way his breath hitches with excitement and anticipation.
. . . .
watching him so eagerly scrub himself is honestly one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen.
he’s already flushed from the warm water and his own effort, his hair clinging damply to his face as he carefully makes sure everything’s as perfect as possible. the way he keeps glancing back at you, eyes wide and seeking approval, sends a warmth through you that’s hard to put into words.
when he’s finally finished, he straightens up, a soft blush painted over his cheeks as he nervously meets your gaze. “is… is this okay?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s a tinge of eagerness hidden beneath his shy tone.
you can’t help but smile, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “you’re perfect, cho,” you murmur, watching the way his eyes light up at the praise. “you did such a good job.”
he visibly relaxes at your words, his lips curling into a small, hopeful smile. “really? i just… wanted to make sure everything’s right for you.”
“it’s more than right,” you assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his temple, feeling his breath hitch at the closeness. “now, just lie back and relax for me, okay? i’ll take care of everything from here.”
he swallows hard, nodding as he settles onto his back, his body tense but willing. as you position yourself, letting your breath ghost over his flushed, sensitive hole, you can feel his whole body tense, his fingers digging lightly into the sheets. he’s already trembling slightly, his eyes half-lidded, looking at you with such trust, such anticipation.
“you look so pretty like this, y'know that?” you murmur, trailing a finger along his thigh, enjoying the way he shivers under your touch. “all flushed and waiting so patiently.”
he bites his lip, his cheeks darkening even further. “i just…wanna be good for you.”
the softness in his voice tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but cup his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “you’re already so good, cho. just relax for me, okay? i promise i’ll make it feel good.”
his nod is small, but he lets out a shaky breath, his muscles loosening slightly as he settles deeper into the bed. as you trail your hand down, letting your fingers brush over his entrance, you can feel him tense up again, his eyes fluttering closed as he braces himself.
“just breathe f'me, cho,” you whisper, pressing a reassuring hand to his thigh. “one finger first, niiicce and slow.”
he nods, exhaling as you press in gently, watching as his expression shifts from nervousness to something softer, a quiet pleasure that builds as he adjusts. “mmph… it feels… different,” he murmurs, voice breathy as he blinks up at you, his eyes dazed but full of wonder.
“good different or bad different?” you ask, your tone playful as you press a little deeper, watching the way his body responds.
“good,” he whispers, his lips parting slightly as his hips shift, instinctively pressing closer to you. “reaally… good.”
the softness in his voice sends a thrill through you, and you lean in, pressing gentle kisses along his inner thigh as you move your finger slowly, carefully, giving him time to adjust. “you’re doing so well, cho,” you murmur, feeling his breath quicken at the praise. “'m gonna add another, okay?”
his nod is almost frantic, his body arching slightly as you slide another finger in, and a soft gasp escapes him. “it’s… it’s intense,” he breathes, his voice quivering as he shifts, adjusting to the feeling.
“just relax, sweetheart,” you coo, your free hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on his hip. “let me take care of you. just focus on how it feels.”
he lets out a shaky breath, his body melting under your touch, and you watch the way his eyes flutter closed, his face flushed and soft as he surrenders completely to you. it’s a sight that fills you with an almost possessive warmth, knowing he’s given himself over to you so completely, so trustingly.
“you’re so good for me, cho,” you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss just above his navel, savoring the way he shivers beneath you. “such a good boy, letting me do this.”
his eyes flutter open at your words, and he looks at you with a mixture of adoration and desire, his voice barely above a whisper as he replies, “i… i just wanna be yours. all yours.”
but the minute the first drop of warm spit lands inside choso, his reaction is immediate — his body jolts, a soft, desperate sound escaping him as he clings to the sheets beneath him. “nnngh — ahh,” he breathes, his voice breaking slightly as your fingers continue their rhythmic, careful motion, scissoring him open with a gentle, deliberate pressure that sends shivers down his spine. his hips twitch forward, fighting the urge to bear down on your hand, every sensation building into a burning ache he’s never felt before.
“s-sensitive,” he manages, his voice soft and breathy, cheeks flushed as he fights to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch the way you handle him. but every time you move, every time your fingers press just right, his lids flutter shut as he lets out another needy, mewling sound.
“just relax, cho,” you murmur, a hint of playfulness in your tone as you lean closer, watching his expression shift with every move. “the more you relax, the better it’ll feel. promise.”
“mmph… i-it already feels… too good,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat, a fresh bead of precum sliding down his dick and pooling on his abdomen, mixing with the rest that’s already spilled there from his endless, leaking arousal. his breathing’s heavy, labored, each inhale catching as your fingers curl inside him, stretching him open.
“that’s a good thing,” you reply, leaning in to let your breath ghost over his flushed, sensitive skin as another glob of spit lands right in his hole. it’s messy, warm, and he lets out a choked whimper, his thighs trembling as you slide your fingers deeper, twisting just enough to draw another gasp from his lips.
“a-ah… can’t… can’t believe it feels… like this,” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, his head tilting back as he looks up at you with a dazed, half-lidded gaze. “it’s… so much.”
“it’s gonna be even better when i fill you up properly,” you tease, nodding to the pretty, purple toy sitting beside you, glistening and ready. “think you can handle it?”
he shudders, his face going a deeper shade of red as he looks at it, his breath coming in quick, shaky pants. “i… i don’t know,” he admits, though his voice is lined with excitement, his body pressing instinctively against your hand. “but i… i wanna try.”
“that’s my good boy,” you coo, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath, his skin damp with a fine sheen of sweat. “let’s get you all ready, then. gotta make sure you can take it, right?”
“y-yeah,” he breathes, his lips parting as he lets out a soft, needy moan when you spread him a little more, pressing down on the spot that makes his whole body tense up. “oohh — nngh… right there, please… please don’t stop,” he babbles, his voice pitching higher, sounding utterly wrecked.
“don’t worry, i got you,” you whisper, savoring every little sound he makes, every shiver that wracks his body as he squirms beneath you. “gonna make you feel so good, cho. you just keep being a good boy for me, m'kay?”
his answer is a soft whimper, and when you finally pull your fingers free, he lets out a needy, desperate sound, his hole clenching around nothing, aching for more. you give him a reassuring smile, reaching for the toy, letting him watch as you slick it up, his wide, dazed eyes following every movement.
“ready?” you ask softly, positioning it just at his entrance, waiting for his signal.
he nods, his lips trembling as he bites back a whimper, his legs falling open just a little more. “please… please, i want it,” he whispers, his voice full of trust, of need.
you press forward slowly, watching his face as he gasps, his eyes squeezing shut as he takes the stretch, his breath stuttering with each inch. “oh — oh my god,” he moans, his voice breathy, broken, his whole body trembling. “s-so… so full…”
“you’re takin' it so well,” you murmur, guiding his hips gently as you sink in deeper, letting him feel every inch, watching as he bites his lip, struggling to keep his composure.
“ahh… can’t… can’t believe… feels so… so big,” he gasps, his hands fisting the sheets as he tries to keep himself together, his mind spinning with pleasure. “oh, god… i don’t… don’t know how long i can…”
“just breathe f'me, cho,” you whisper, your voice soothing as you run a hand over his trembling thigh. “you’re doing amazing. just let it happen.”
you start slow with choso, letting him settle into the feeling, easing him into this vulnerable position you know he’s never experienced before. he’s flushed from head to toe, his breath coming in soft, shaky pants as you fill him up inch by inch, your hands firm on his thighs to keep him grounded.
“you’re doing so well, cho,” you murmur, your voice warm as you lean in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “look how pretty you are, takin' it all like this.”
his cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink at your words, but even as he squirms under you, you can feel his hands grasping at the sheets, fingers curling tight as his hips instinctively shift, pressing down on you as you’re easing inside him.
“more,” he breathes, his voice shaky, threaded with need. “please… i can… i can take it. want all of it…”
you chuckle softly, watching him struggle for composure, his soft, pleading tone making it harder and harder to hold yourself back. “you’re so greedy, aren’t cha?” you tease, leaning down to brush a hand over his cheek, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. “isn’t this your first time, sweetheart? thought we’d take it slow.”
he lets out a frustrated whimper, his hips bucking up as his fingers twist in the sheets, desperation clear in every line of his body. “i know, but… it feels so good,” he gasps, his eyes fluttering closed as he tries to rock against you. “need it harder, please… don’t be gentle with me. i can take it, i swear…”
“oh, i know you can,” you reply, voice low and teasing as you push in deeper, watching his body arch under the pressure. “you’re takin' it so well already, aren’t ya, baby? so eager, like you were made for this.” you give his thigh a squeeze, letting him feel the weight of your hands holding him down. “succhh a good lil' thing, lying here alll spread out and begging to be filled.”
he moans, his whole body shuddering as he tightens around the strap, his face twisted with a delicious mixture of pleasure and frustration. “yes… yes, just like that,” he whines, his voice trembling as his hands scramble against the sheets, trying to get a hold of something, anything, to ground himself. “please… want all of you. i’ll be good, i promise…”
“yeah? wanna be good f'me?” you murmur, pressing down harder, drawing another sweet, desperate sound from his lips as he writhes beneath you. “if you’re really good, i might just give you what you want, might just fill you up till you can’t think straight. that what you want, hm?”
he nods frantically, his eyes wild as he looks up at you, his cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair clinging to his forehead. “yes, please, please,” he babbles, his voice pitching higher as he arches his back, pressing himself against you. “wanna be filled up so bad… wanna be yours. wanna feel it all the way inside —”
“you’re already mine,” you tell him, sliding a hand down to grip his hips as you pull him closer, the friction sending a delicious jolt through both of you. “my pretty lil' thing, begging to be bred like this. look at you, so desperate, so needy for it.”
he whimpers, his eyes glazing over, his lips parting as you pick up the pace, thrusting harder, each push drawing another broken moan from his throat. “oh — oh god,” he gasps, his voice catching as his hands fist tighter in the sheets. “pleaassee… please don’t stop, i need it, need you…”
“such a greedy little thing, wanting more already?” you tease, leaning in so your breath ghosts over his flushed skin. “you love being filled up, don’t you? love it so much you’re begging for more before i’m even halfway done with you.” you punctuate your words with a firm thrust, watching as his eyes roll back, his lips trembling as he tries to stifle another needy whimper.
“y-yes… love it… love being yours,” he breathes, his voice breaking as he rocks his hips to meet your thrusts, his entire body trembling as he surrenders completely to you. “please… please don’t stop, i’ll be good, i swear… want it all. wanna be filled, bred, everything—”
“that’s my good boy,” you murmur, your voice soft and possessive as you press him down, feeling his body shiver beneath you. “gonna give you exactly what you want, gonna fill you up till you’re leaking, till you’re a mess, all mine.” your hand slides down, pressing just above his navel as you thrust, watching as he keens under the pressure, his body arching desperately.
“oh — oh god, yes,” he moans, his voice breathy and broken as he melts into your touch, his thighs trembling as he surrenders completely. “please… please don’t stop…”
the words send a thrill down your spine, and you lean in, pressing a soft, possessive kiss to his parted lips. you murmur against his mouth, your voice a low promise. “’m not stopping till you’re completely filled, dripping, and every inch of you is mine.”
the sounds spilling from choso’s lips are nothing short of desperate, his voice cracking as he whines and sobs beneath you, his hands grasping at the sheets like they’re his last anchor.
“please — please, i need it, need you inside me,” he wails, his breath coming in hitched, broken gasps as his hips try to meet your every thrust. “’m yours, just — just fill me up, please, i can’t — i can’t stand it anymore!”
your chuckle is low and dark, a rumble that only serves to make him even more frenzied. “oh, you want me that badly, huh? look at you, all spread out, begging to be filled up. such a pretty thing, a needy little mess, all for me.” you lean in, your voice a mocking purr as you bring one hand up to grip his hip, steadying him as he bucks helplessly beneath you.
“yes! yes, just like that,” he sobs, his body shaking as you drive into him, unrelenting, each thrust deep and purposeful. his own dick twitches, leaking over his abdomen, completely untouched, yet throbbing from the sheer stimulation.
“oh god, please,” he breathes, his voice climbing higher, his cheeks wet with tears as he writhes, completely overwhelmed. “please, i need it so bad, please breed me, fill me, i’ll be good, i’ll take it all—"
“you think you deserve it, baby?” you murmur, watching his reaction as you lean down, letting your breath skim over his ear, savoring the way his body arches, every nerve alight. “you really think you deserve to be bred like this? to be filled up until you’re leaking and ruined?”
he whimpers, nodding frantically as he looks up at you, his eyes glazed and unfocused, cheeks flushed as he struggles to form coherent words. “yes, yes, please, i need it,” he begs, his voice a broken whisper. “i’ll take it all, i’ll be good, i’ll be so good f'you. please, i can’t — i can’t take it anymore… need to feel you inside, need it so much…”
your fingers itch, hovering over the pump, the mechanism that’ll fill him just like he wants, but you hold off, savoring the sight of him completely undone, the way he thrashes, how utterly vulnerable and needy he’s become under you.
“then you’re gonna have to beg a little more for it, baby,” you coo, a sadistic grin on your face as you thrust into him harder, drawing another sob from his lips.
“if you want me to fill you up like that, you better tell me exactly how much you need it. every. plap filthy. plap little. plap detail.”
he chokes on a whimper, his hands scrambling to grip anything as he gasps, shuddering from head to toe. “i — i need it so bad,” he sobs, his voice trembling as his body writhes beneath you. “need to feel it, deep inside, want it so badly it hurts… please, please, i’m begging you. i’ll be your good girl, i’ll take it all, just — just give it t'me, fill me up like you promised.”
the sound of that, the desperate, feminine way he’s reduced to pleading, breaks something in you, and your fingers move to the pump, hovering as you look down at him, savoring his flushed, tear-streaked face.
“you’ll take it all, won’t you?” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his damp temple as you finally press the pump, a rush of warmth spilling into him, filling him up just as he’s been begging for. his breath catches, his whole body tensing as he feels it, his eyes rolling back as he lets out a strangled, blissed-out cry, his own length twitching uncontrollably, spilling over himself in sheer ecstasy.
“there you go,” you whisper, your voice laced with pride as you watch him fall apart completely beneath you, his body shaking, his breath coming in desperate gasps as he lies there, utterly spent and full, just like he wanted. “such a good girl, taking it all like that. you look so pretty, all filled up and ruined for me.”
he nods, a dazed, satisfied smile tugging at his lips as he reaches for you, his fingers trembling as he clings to you, his breath softening as he nuzzles into your touch. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, exhausted and content. “thank you so much…”
you can’t help but laugh softly as you press a tender kiss to the tip of his flushed, sensitive cockhead, feeling him shudder and whimper as his hips twitch up, already overstimulated from everything you’ve put him through. he looks utterly adorable, his cheeks still pink, hair messy and sticking to his forehead. you brush a few stray strands back, catching the dopey, lovestruck grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze.
“thank you,” he mumbles, his voice soft and full of reverence, his fingers trailing over your shoulder, warm and affectionate. “that was… that was amazing.” he hesitates for a second, biting his lip before looking at you with those wide, hopeful eyes.
“so… do you think… maybe we’ll have kids soon?” his cheeks flush deeper as he says it, glancing shyly away, clearly brimming with excitement. “i mean… i can already feel it working,” he adds, a little whisper that makes you stifle a laugh.
you smile, squeezing his hand as you help him clean up, listening to him ramble with that innocent optimism that’s so genuinely choso. “oh, yeah?” you tease, hiding a smirk as you hand him a warm towel. “think i did a good enough job breeding you, huh?”
he nods enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up, his smile wide and absolutely precious. “definitely,” he says, a look of complete certainty on his face. “i mean, with how full i feel… it’s gotta work. we’re practically guaranteed a family.” he trails off with a dreamy sigh, looking up at you with such genuine adoration that it almost makes you feel bad for not explaining the biology to him sooner.
but right now, seeing him so happy, so content, you decide to let him have this moment. “well, you certainly did a good job taking it all,” you say with a soft smile, ruffling his hair as he leans into your touch, beaming.
“i’ll be the best dad,” he murmurs, eyes sparkling as he starts rambling, envisioning the family life he’s already got mapped out in his head. “we could go to the zoo, and i’ll teach them all about the animals… oh! and we’ll have matching sweaters! i mean, maybe… maybe just for the holidays.”
“and we’ll do all of that,” you say, grinning as you pull him into a warm hug, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “but maybe we’ll have a little biology lesson first, hm? just so we’re both, uh… prepared.”
“biology lesson?” he asks, tilting his head, curious but entirely unbothered. “doesn’t that mean more practice?”
you laugh, patting his back. “maybe it does.”
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an-annyeoing-writer · 3 days ago
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idol!Baekhyun x fan!Reader: truth be told.
Word count: 2382
Date of release: 11th November, 2024
Genre: angst, slice of life, half ounce of a fluff, established relationships, mentions of break up and dysfunctional relationships, way too much emotional yapping as for barely any plot.
I'm as surprised as y'all that I wrote something like this. You know, no vampires, no action, no one's actively dying? It's very much not my kind of writing, but I was feeling very emotional at the time. Just don't get used to it.
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„It’s not good for you. I don’t think it’s good for me. It’s not healthy for either of us.”
He felt as if the knife you were cutting vegetables with cut right through his heart as well. You deliberately distracted yourself with the activity while he stood nearby, staring at you blankly, but not knowing how to respond.
In the recent weeks, he felt the two of you falling apart. It was like an avalanche that started with a small rock which he didn’t notice at the time, but which escalated into a disaster. Talking less, avoiding meeting up, and until today – the day you announced, as gently as you could, that you wanted to move out and live on your own. You said that it’s just because you want to become more independent, that you shouldn’t rely on him this much. But what will his apartment feel like without you? Your presence here, doing small things such as cutting vegetables, became a staple part of his life.
“Are you still talking about living together? Or about… us?”
Your movements were more frantic than he knew you for. With one a bit too sudden of a motion, the blade cut through the skin of your finger, and you let out a low murmur to cover up the hiss of pain, putting the finger to your lip in mild annoyance. It was more than clear that the cut was not the only reason behind your frustration.
Baekhyun didn’t move.
In any other situation, he would react – mock you a bit for being clumsy while being the first one to bring the first aid kid, maybe pretend to be a vampire struck by the scent of your blood, maybe even panic a little in this cute, puppy-like way if he felt that the amount of blood is greater than acceptable.
But now he didn’t, and it sparked a bit of hurt in you as well, but also brought your attention to the fact that maybe dismissing things and try to make them gentle only worsened the pain that would eventually come. The anxiety of the future that you exposed him to was not like the boil-the-frog that you planned to perform. You wanted to avoid confrontation for as long as necessary, until things dropped naturally. You didn’t expect him to hold onto it.
“Can you be honest with me? Are you able to?” His tone started to show that he, too, was growing frustrated. “Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? I’m sorry if I can’t catch the clues, but if you made it obvious, then I’m just plain stupid.”
“Nothing… happened. And I’m sorry, I didn’t make it obvious. I didn’t know, how.”
He frowned ever so slightly, taking a step towards you. You backed against the kitchen counter, placing your hands on each side – your finger stung a little, but it was merely a scratch. The real wound was growing in your soul.
“If nothing happened, then why? Did you grow bored of me?”
“Of you?”
“Yeah. Please be honest with me. Just no more sweeting things up, alright?”
His tone was calm, but it lacked softness, it was almost business-like.
“I don’t know how anyone would get bored of you, Baekhyun” you admitted in a breathless whisper. You were starting to feel foolish, really. “And especially myself. That’s why I don’t think I can take it. I don’t think it’s fair to you. But I’m also not fair to myself. You just mean… too much to me.”
 “Too much?” The frown of the man’s face only deepened. “Why is something telling me I should not feel flattered?” A bit of frustration was slipping into his own tone as well.
You let out a deep sigh.
“I started off as your fan, Baekhyun. I thought that with time, it’ll be more… normal. That you’ll feel like a normal person. But somehow it’s not like that. Somehow… it feels like my life is even more about you than it was before. I feel like a creep. Like I’m using you to fulfill a fantasy.”
“Are you?”
“No!” You denied right away, but your voice faltered. “I… don’t know.” You crossed your arms on your chest, fixating your gaze somewhere down below.
To your surprise, Baekhyun let out a breathy laugh. The laughter didn’t feel light and cheerful, like his usual ones – it was heavied with worry, with some sort of underlying agony.
“Okay, let’s talk about this. We need to talk about this.”
His hand reached towards you and he pulled you by your arm, almost throwing you off balance when he pulled you towards the living room, snatching a paper towel on his way and putting it into your still bleeding hand. “You’re right. Do you think I didn’t consider it? That this wouldn’t work out? That it would feel fake? Heck, I talked to so many friends about it, and most of them said it’s not a good idea. But you know what?” He pushed you onto the couch and sat himself on the stool, bringing it close so that your knees almost touched – if only you let yourself relax, they would rest against each other naturally, but you were stiff and trying to almost shrink within yourself. “You know what? I’ve known you for a year. And I could always trust you. You’ve had so many chances to take advantage of me, and you didn’t. So I don’t want to think about how you could – potentially – hurt me. But we need to talk about the other part.”
“What do you mean? Isn’t it obvious that…”
“No, no. You’re thinking about what it’s like, for me, to date a fan.” He didn’t even let you finish, but it was as if he could read your mind, already knowing your thought process. “I want you to be honest and tell me what it’s like to date an idol. Because you’re right, you could be using me. But you also said it’s not good for you. And you’re right, because I could be using you, too. So be honest with me and tell me if I ever hurt you.”
So many memories came flooding at once – not of pain, not at all, but of all things that could have led to one tragedy or another. Your whole relationship, like a videotape.
Sure, your relationship was not always perfect. Barely a year has passed. Not long enough to develop a deep understanding of each other, but long enough for many things to happen, to get to know each other at least.
Not all of it was beautiful. There were arguments, some of which almost ended in a breakup. But they made you stronger, that much was undeniable – with each and every single time you almost fell apart, it felt like you knew each other a bit better, knew what things not to do and not to say, but which helped to soothe the atmosphere and help you get back along.
You had one, most important rule in your relationship.
That no matter what happened between the two of you, you would play fair.
That one time he lied to you about being at work while he was not – that one hurt. When you found out he’s not at the office in the first place, you even thought he was cheating. Wouldn’t that be understandable to assume in such a situation? You had every chance to cause a scandal on spot. But you didn’t. You knew that pulling his whole career down because of your relationship wouldn’t be fair. No matter how much it hurt, it was completely out of the equation.
It turned out he was with his friends – he really wanted to go out, but felt bad for not giving you much attention these days. You felt almost pitiful, seeing him crumble in front of you, all worried that you will feel like he doesn’t want you, when he genuinely didn’t have that much time, and it was just one evening with friends. You smacked him in the head for feeling bad about spending time with friends. And he learned that he can be honest with you.
Another time, you were all excited upon his album release. Seeing him on the stage later on made you feel all kinds of things, the way he moved, all the effects, clothing, makeup – all putting emphasis on his heavenly physique, as if you were watching an angel dance. He came back home disheveled, with remains of makeup on his face, but as excited as you were. You would give all of you to him at that exact moment, more than he would ask for, more than you would feel confident to give any other time.
But it was still early in the relationship, and Baekhyun knew that you weren’t ready. That, drunk on him as you were, you could regret it later, even feel disgusted with giving yourself in this easily, that your gentle mind wouldn’t be able to trust yourself with your own body. So he indulged you with kisses here and there, and then gently tucked you into bed, making sure that it all went smoothly, that it didn’t feel anything like a rejection, but a gesture of utmost care.
It took a few more months before you opened yourself to him fully, and he never rushed or reminded you of how eager you were back then. He could have had it all back then, but he decided to wait. That’s how you learned he’s more selfless than you ever even aspired to be.
“You didn’t” you spoke after what felt like ages, to the point you wondered if you even responded to the correct question. “You didn’t… hurt me. Did I ever hurt you?”
“No, you didn’t. You’re just hurting yourself all the time” he mentioned, jokingly motioning towards your hand, which you wiped hastily with the paper towel. “So if nothing bad happened, why the ifs? You realize it’s not going to stop if we just break up?” It was a rhetorical question, and you glanced up at him with a pout, feeling almost schooled by the way he talked. “You believe it’s a matter of just us, but, as much as it sounds ridiculous to say it, it’s all in your head. No matter who you’re with, you’re going to assume the worst. Won’t it be like that? Be honest with yourself.”
You crossed your arms again, feeling defiant for a moment, because his words were almost too much for your ego to take.
But there was some small part of you, somewhere at the edge of your consciousness, that not only knew that he’s correct, but also wanted it to be correct – because if it was just you, then you could learn to maybe keep those pessimistic parasites at bay, and… you wouldn’t have to suffer the loss that, despite weeks of preparation, didn’t feel like any less of a torment and regret that would come, were you to finish things as you originally intended.
All the beliefs, all the dogmas, that you carefully built over the past weeks, were falling apart in front of your eyes, confronted with very simple logic on Baekhyun’s end. You almost felt stupid for letting things get this far without confronting him earlier. Weren’t you the one who demanded honesty? Wasn’t he the one who proved you can trust him with your vulnerability?
“I’m… sorry.”
You felt yourself fall apart as well. Your body slumped down, relaxed knees rested against Baekhyun’s, and he put his hands on top of your thighs, as if in this exact moment, while knowing that he has you with him, he didn’t want to risk losing you again.
“Don’t be for feeling like that, things are never easy, now are they?” Here it was – the signature smile, the warm one that tore through the clouds of the darkest of your days, warm and welcoming. “But I am upset that you held it from me for so long” he whined. With the whine, he finally moved from the stool and onto the couch next to you. His arms shamelessly snuck around you, engulfing you in the close embrace that you knew so well, felt so good within. Partially pulling you into him, and partially leaning into the back of your shoulder, Baekhyun released a long sigh against the skin of your back, warm air slipping underneath your blouse – you missed it. You almost didn’t realize how distant the two of you became, and how long has it been since you felt his body against yours. But now, despite all of that, it felt good, it felt right. As if your souls have never detached from each other.
Maybe there was some form of destiny between the two of you; maybe it was not just a parasocial relationship that evolved into something that could turn dysfunctional so, so easily – maybe it was written in the stars that one way or another, the two of you would find each other, and it just so happened that you spotted him first, from afar, slowly making your way.
How else would the two of you find each other, after all?
Maybe you learned something this time, too. Maybe it wasn’t much, just the beginning of a stronger, even more intimate bond that would last years and years, and light years, and through all your reincarnations, with some of them as pitiful as they could be. Maybe it was just an accident that this time you were in such a position – in another life, would you be a princess, and he be a peasant?
But these were only some other ifs, fun to think about, but not worth spilling your heart over.
In this life, in this universe, you were his, and he was yours. And everything else was just more or less accidental circumstances that brought you closer together.
Only at the back of your head, you wondered if one day, the tale of hopes and stars would fall, and that dream would turn into a nightmare, fueled by your lives’ imbalance and selfishness that neither of you knew in each other.
Maybe you just didn’t have to think about it just yet.
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tearfest · 2 days ago
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ㅤㅤmaritza was unquestionably smitten. to have been rescued by her hero was thrilling enough, but for him to be right here in her home was another thing entirely. her father would surely disapprove of the way in which captain vought's presence made her feel, having shoved catholic values of virtue down her throat since her youth. and whilst this wouldn't be maritza's first time straying from the path of righteousness, she already knew that this would be her most memorable. she'd had a few boyfriends very few knew about; but she'd never been with a real man. a real life superhero... a man that was both strong and gentle all the same. a dream come true, a fantasy brought to life. couldn't recall a time she'd ever been so infatuated, the tension between them growing palpable as the pad of his thumb dragged along her lower lip; fingers against his chest only curling in response as she nodded in agreement. such a bright girl, rendered so speechless by the presence of a man that was living proof of an existence that tore through her skepticism. and, for once, she was happy to be proven wrong.
ㅤㅤ" i'll try, but i was so scared. it felt like i was surrounded, there were so many of them... and then you took care of them all, without so much as a scratch. " voice had been worrisome before she mentioned him, admiration now honeying her words as cheeks grew warm under his palm. her smile was pretty much permanent as she blinks up at him, basking in the sound of her name on his tongue. she was caught off-guard by the mention of her father, though; knowing that he worked for some new sector of the government, but his secrecy meant that she didn't know which. she didn't dwell too much, though. more heat surged in her soft cheeks under his palm at his compliment, dimples forming as her smile grew; cheek pressing further into his palm. " oh, you flatter me, captain vought. i'm surprised my father even mentioned me. " but she didn't care about her father, not right now. all she cared about was the man that'd been there to save her life, not the man that she hardly ever saw. the night was barely over, and yet she already felt saddened that it eventually would be.
ㅤㅤcheeks burnt red with embarrassment, almost feeling as though she was being scolded when he explained that telling her his name would result in her death. she wasn't scared, even though she knew he was capable of so much violence; having seen it with her own two eyes that night. but she felt safe with him, as if she thought that he would always do good by her after saving her life. hands fell to rest awkwardly down by her side, fingers toying with the excess fabric of her skirt; cardigan-covered cleavage heaving with each heavy breath as she watched on with awe and admiration as he took the mask off, heart only racing faster. " you're so handsome, mister— i mean, captain vought. " couldn't help but to feel special, privileged even, to get to see the man behind the mask; and she couldn't keep her hands to herself, with one coming to rest back against his chest, whilst the other lifts to push his soft, floppy hair out from his face. even his hair was perfectly soft between her fingers. was there anything about him that wasn't perfect? she gazed, and she fawned, and she adored him; fingertips gently smoothing out along the lines left behind by his helmet. " well, now i feel like i owe you twice the thanks, for saving my life and for showing me your face. captain vought, " she couldn't stop touching... didn't want to waste a second more of their time together with her hands down by her side. " what about the rest of the suit? is that allowed to come off, too? "
her home seems designed for more than just her,  yet really it seems like she’s the only one living here. he hadn’t seen a ring on her finger,  a good sign,  not that it would’ve stopped him really. the logical conclusion,  an absent father. something of which has experience with,  mentally absent and physically absent.  he’s suffered through both,  though the physically absent had been his doing and for a second there it had looked like he would’ve had to run back to him for help had things not played out the way they had. surprisingly,  when that time had come he hadn’t returned back to him.  instead, like the universe was not working against him for once, another man had stepped up.  a man he owes his extended life to.  leon holds his curious tongue though,  he didn’t come here to discuss her living or family situation.
nor does he want to ruin this moment,  because frankly he doesn’t want to talk about his own situation despite how monumentally better it is from just a simple decade prior.  he had been dying,  but now he was the picture-perfect form of his species and of humans.  however, there’s not making up with his late father,   no closure for himself.  that trauma will stay with him for the rest of his life,  unsure of really how to recover from it  ⸻  almost worse than the nature of war,  almost worse than serving in europe,  almost.  she gazes at him as if he’d put the sun in the sky and he doesn’t want that gaze to turn sour.  plus its really none of his business so he’ll bask in this instead.    “shhhh...” he replies, letting his thumb brush over her lips,  “you don’t need to think about that…  about what would’ve happened,  focus on what did happen.”  on what was happening now,   something he had told himself during much of the war,  focus on what you can control.
her lips part and thumb moves graciously back to her cheek.  the pattering of her rapid heart-beat is something he can’t ignore.  it’s a familiar beating he hears, one of the things he’s still learning to tune out from his enhanced hearing.  but it fills him with a sense of pride,  because he’s the one increased her heart-rate,  making her blood warmer underneath the skin.   “maritza,”  he echoes back,  “maritza guerrero.”  pause,  “guerrero,  I know that name.  oh.  so you’re that maritza.  heard about you from your old man.”  so that’s whose house he was currently standing in.  makes sense,  only one run-in with her father but the names are hard to forget.  “he didn’t mention what a beautiful young woman you are.”  lips purse,   “captain vought,” he answered plainly,  “I would offer my name miss but then I’d have to kill you.”  only one person besides himself knew his real name,  and now it’s something vought needs to keep hush-hush, as much as he wanted to tell her his real name.  to take his mask off,  was not out of the question though.  his helmeted head cocked, feeling a warm pleasant buzz at the sound of her finger outlining the bottom rim of his helmet.  reluctantly he pulls his hand away from her face,  his other one also rising to take hold of either side of his helmet and pulling it off.  his body stayed inches from hers. his helmet hair that has grown out a bit flops out.
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theheadlessgroom · 4 months ago
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@beatingheart-bride
"What...?"
August's brain scrambled for some kind of explanation, some sort of rational answer to the questions that were filling up his brain: What did she mean, she died before her parents did? That she died before she and Randall could start their new lives together? What could it mean? His mind groped frantically for an answer, and only one came to him.
It was one he wanted to reject as soon as it presented itself.
Randall and Emily...they'd died young? And if Emily hadn't seen her parents since the day she died, and both of them died before they could wed, then that could only mean one of two options: That they died in some tragic accident, or...
No. No, he thought to himself frantically. It couldn't be that someone...her betrothed...could he have...?
"Auggie, are you okay?" he could hear Josephine asking him, her voice thin with panic, but it sounded so distant as he slumped back in his seat, the horrific reality hitting him hard, as though he had the weight of the world dropped on his back, crushing him. The room seemed to spin, and before he knew it, he was off and running out of the ballroom-he was in dire need of air.
"Father!" June cried out worriedly, rushing after him, as did Wilhelm, with Randall and Josephine quick to follow. Lon and Erika wanted to follow as well, but Colin and Callahan stopped the pair from running off, with Callahan consoling gently, "It's okay, wee ones, it's okay."
"Will Grandpa August be okay?" Erika asked (not even realizing the way she addressed him, without hesitation), eyes big and watery with worry, at which her uncle brushed away her impending tears, saying, "I'm sure he will. It's just...he's probably gonna have a lot of questions, a lot to think about...
...Lord knows, Col and I did..."
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