#(also do u mind me asking ur pronouns?

[moonrisecoeur]

Ur the best sub Leon writer soooo… idk if you seen these but ppl treat las plagas parasite as sex pollen 😭 and I’m so here for it. Concept : re4 leon infected by the parasite OK but he starts out very agressive but ofc he’s a sub so he does whatever reader wants in order to yk… achieve the goal of the parasite (breeding 😔 who said that? Not me) And pls make the reader mean, I love mean femdoms sm, they are chefs kiss. If you need more clarification post it I’ll send another one idk but I’m just seeing what YOU come up with. LOVE UR WRITING btw I love how it’s pretty in character tbh cuz I read ur bully Leon one and I was like “yeah fr like he’s too caring to be a bully 💀”

OMG WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ADD: you said smth so mean to him that he came too early. He was so sorry for coming early and the mess he made in you But then he continued to keep going trying to pump more- OK SORRY

the BEST?? idk about that but i shall take ur compliment and deliver to you only my best work so thank u bestie i appreciate it sm !! ^-^

las plagas is crazy cuz like the black veins, the loss of control with your physical body, the pain it causes… that’s literally so hot. leon was so fuckable all of re4 but especially in the scenes where his body is being controlled that man is SCRUMPTIOUS

also just so you know. the veins on his dick are black as well ♡

no pronouns mentioned, afab parts mentioned, plaga leon has to be a top im sorry (technically in straight relationships men are always topping unless u count pegging BUT in this context i mean he’s a top more like ‘he’s a sub but he’ll fuck u stupid’ like that’s the vibe)

you spot his blonde hair from across the hall, running over to him excitedly. thank god you found him.

“leon!” you call out, grabbing the attention of the man in question, as you catch up to him. finally finding him in this nightmarish place after getting separated was the best thing possible, “holy crap, i’m so- i’m so glad you’re okay— woah, what… what happened to you?”

he takes a cautious step back, still seemingly holding a little bit of control over his body, “they said it was a gift in my…. my blood… don’t know what the fuck that was about..”

you take a step forward, reaching out your hand to touch his face, fingers tracing the black lines that were once veins invisible to the naked eye. but he stops you, his hand roughly grabbing your wrist, “don’t.”

“don’t… what?” you ask nervously, shoulders slumped.

“you need to… stay away from me,” he groans from pain, and you’re too worried to listen to his words, “stop, get away from me, you— i could hurt you! i don’t want to hurt you…”

but you don’t listen to him, betraying his wishes by shaking off his grip and reaching your hand out again. he can’t try to stop you this time. he moans, actually moans, when your fingertips touch his face, caressing him softly.

“really? it’s that good?” you ask with a small smirk on your face. leon thinks he could die.

“f-fuck…” he mumbles, finally coming closer to you. his hands wrap around your waist as he leans in for a kiss that you’re not ready for, and you both stumble backwards while you try to ground yourself.

he’s getting rough, aggressive, and you need to push back a little or else he’ll consume you entirely. not that you’d mind.

“leon, ease up,” you whisper, pushing him back slightly, and when a growl escapes his throat, you know he’s clearly not in any state to listen, “leon.”

he annoyedly makes eye contact with you, trying his best to listen to what you’re about to say. he is trying, and that’s the worst part. this is him at his most gentle, most restrained.

“you need to listen to me, okay? can you do that?” you ask softly, hand against his chest to keep him from diving too deep into you, and pressing a kiss to his lips. it’s softer. he moans into your mouth needily, but you don’t let him get rough. instead you sweetly get the taste of him. sure, it’s not a delicious taste, but he’s a delicious experience.

you enjoy the way he’s trying so intensely to control and contain himself, for your sake. he knows what you want from him is not his full fledged desires out in the open, completely unchecked.

when you pull away, he looks wrecked already, “please, you can’t do this to me, not if you’re just going to walk away and leave me desperate.”

part of you wants to reassure him. i’m not going to leave you. i would never abandon you when you need me most. but the other part just wants to ravage him, take all of him for yourself, leave nothing of him left but the perfection you’ve created. perfection in your eyes. maybe he’s not the only one infected with some kind of tainted desire.

instead, to accomplish both, you kiss him again, letting your own intensity and desire take over, potentially overpowering his. he whimpers, his shaky hands holding your hips for stability. he’s not being grossly possessive and rough like before. he’s softer now, pliable.

when you pull away, you whisper, “we need to get somewhere safe.”

“wha… what?”

“i need to take my time with you, and we’re not safe out in the open like this…” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to that sweet spot right below his ear. it’s so cute how truly weak leon is right now. sure, that’s always been his weakness, but it’s elevated multiple times over by this parasite in his blood. you have half the mind to thank that weird cult.

when you find a safe room, you’re immediately back on him, pushing him against the wall, enjoying the way he whimpers as you kiss him, his need for you multiplying by the minute.

“please, please, i need you, i need you so fucking bad, please, i need to take you, need to make you mine, need to—”

“shut up,” you groan, fingers roughly grabbing his jaw, pushing his head back and away from you, “you’re going to be good, or you won’t get what you want. i don’t care how badly you fucking need me, you’re going to be patient. you’re going to be nice and obedient or you’ll get nothing from me. and that little parasite inside of you is horrified at the idea that you won’t get to fuck my pretty pussy, hm?”

he looks pathetic, moaning like a whore at just some words, but it’s the way you say them, the way you say them, that kills him. he eventually calms himself down enough to nod with his eyes shut tightly, “i’ll do whatever you say. you know that.”

“lay down on the floor,” you command, almost growling back at him, and he opens his eyes in surprise.

“what?”

“you heard me. on the ground, beneath me, right now, leon,” your eyes narrow at him, enjoying the way he weakly sinks to his knees before sitting down completely and laying back.

“like this..?” he asks, confused. he doesn’t know what’s about to happen, and that excites him immensely.

you take off your belt with all your utility tools and your jeans along with it. then finally, your underwear. he looks up at you with wide, delicious eyes.

he asks so sweetly, even though he knows the answer, “are you… are you gonna make me..?”

“yeah, you are. i’m going to sit down on your pretty, pretty face and you’re going to enjoy every second of being beneath me, where you belong, servicing me, and making me cum.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of belonging beneath you, “yeah, fuck, okay—”

“—and you’re not going to fucking talk until i cum, got it?”

he nods, and once you sit down upon your throne, he gets right to work. he laps up the fluids of your cunt like a dog, working tirelessly, sucking on your clit and tongue fucking you. this is his place. he deserves nothing more than to be here with you, caving to your every desire even if all of his thoughts include breeding you and getting you pregnant with his babies. he’d do anything you asked if he could just have that.

he’d be at your service, at your mercy, until you chose to give him what he wanted.

but he makes you cum so fucking hard that it’s impossible to not give him what he wants, especially when rough hands grab onto your thighs as you’re cumming and he’s still giving you the head of your life through your orgasm. he grabs you just to stabilize you, but also to be possessive.

he can’t help how bad he’s gotten about jealousy and possessiveness with this parasite. he’s never been the jealous boyfriend, knowing you could hold your own and you’re loyal and stuff, but something about the way he looks at you now is different. it’s deep and primal. he looks at you like he needs to have you, and no one else can.

it’s insanely hot, but it’s also inconceivable how uncontrollable those urges are. leon has good self control, and you notice it in how he’s acting. again, this is him at his most restrained. he’s trying to keep himself from pouncing on you, taking everything he wants from you because he knows you don’t want that.

somewhere deep inside of him, he’s still himself, still that awkward and dorky guy that just wants to love you and give you everything you want. you wouldn’t want that.

when you roll off of him, laying down next to him to give yourself a moment to recover, you press a kiss to his shoulder, a sign that it’s an act, your harshness isn’t real. he returns the gesture by kissing the top of your head. a sign that he acknowledges your motives.

“please,” he whimpers suddenly, startling you out of your daze as his hand caresses your back softly, “i’ll let you control everything, you can do whatever you want with me, but fucking please, i’m so desperate to put my cock inside of your pussy, baby. i can’t think straight, and i’m trying so damn hard to control myself but i won’t be able to much longer…”

“yeah? you wanna put your cock inside of me? feel it throb inside the wetness and warmth of my cunt, fill me up with—”

he cuts you off with a loud moan, his hands grasping onto you and his eyes shutting tightly at the thought of such pleasure. he looks wrecked at the mere mention of cumming inside of you. you obviously have to capitalize on this fact.

“oh? so it’s the filling me up part, isn’t it? the ‘gift’ you have makes you really want to cum inside me, hm?” you say, smirking cruelly at him, watching his resolve crumble as he moans shamelessly, “do you want… breed me, leon?”

he gasps, breathing heavily. he’s incredibly wound up, and now you know the real reason he’s insatiable and uncontrollable, “f-fuck, i— it’s not that i want to, it’s that i need to… i need to fuck you and breed you so damn bad, i—”

you cover his mouth with the palm of your hand, enjoying the way he groan in pleasure when you straddle him. god, he’s not even inside of you, but he looks fucked out. he looks he’s about to burst already.

“god, you’re so fucking desperate,” you mumble to him, leaning in closer to whisper to him despite having him muzzled with your hand. not that he’d ever hurt you, he would never even imagine it, “you’re going to fuck me stupid, okay? you’re going to fuck me until my legs go numb and i can’t feel anything but you… and only when i tell you you can, you’ll breed me, fuck your cum even deeper into me and not let any of it escape. understood?”

he breathes shakily, not responding. obviously you forgot you have your hand over his mouth. when you take it off, he nervously says, “got it. i’ll… i’ll be good. i’ll make you feel so good.”

your voice is dark, cruel, full of malicious intent, “you fucking better, or i won’t let you cum. you’ll get to fuck me, sure, but i won’t ever give you the satisfying orgasm your body is desperately aching for. you won’t get to fill me up, and all you’ll have left to fuck for your little orgasm is your hand.”

his heart aches. the idea of disappointing you makes him feel a physical pit of nervousness in his stomach, the same ones he felt when he was more like himself. he just wants to feel like himself again.

“g-got it,” he whimpers. you get off of him, and he’s got you pinned immediately, gently resting you against the ground he was previously laying on. the image of you beneath him has him breathless. he feels like he’s worshipping a god with every move he makes.

he slides his cock into you, groaning at how easy it is, how wet you are. he bottoms out almost immediately, enjoying the way your body wraps around him in almost every sense. he silently adores you. he loves that you want him, crave him just like he craves you. that underneath all of your dominance, you’re his lover too.

fuck, he’s starting to feel possessive again. he beings to thrust into you, his body moving faster than either of you can handle, but you keep your cool better than he does.

“don’t let yourself start to think you’re in control,” you murmur, leaning up to press your lips to his shoulder, baring your teeth but not hard enough to draw blood. just enough to remind him of his place, “you belong to me. not the other way around, got it?” you growl into his ear.

he can’t even respond, too enraptured by your body and the feeling of your control over him leaving him a shuddering mess.

and you can’t even deny it. he’s putting in the work, thumb playing your with your clit just like how he knows you like, and clearly he’s getting the results he’s looking for. his body comes closer to the edge sooner than he’d like, but he tries to stave it off, for your sake.

still leaning into him, you whisper in your darkest voice, “maybe i should leave you like this, so you can stay this desperate… for me. i would try and cure you, but… not sure if i really care anymore.”

he shudders, voice giving out on him as he tries to plead with you. he cums without warning, obviously his body did it without the consent and go-ahead of his conscious mind. he already looks embarrassed at cumming without your permission. you don’t really have the mind to care right now, but you remember it for.. later.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck, leon, give it to me, give in to your cravings, your desires, your needs,” you moan in his ear, desperate for him, only him, and he’s yours, he’s all yours, it’s all he’s ever been and all he’ll ever be. he keep fucking you even after cumming, keeping you filled up, pushing it deeper, “make me yours.”

and he has no choice but to comply.

[cyyfics]

I LOVED your Simon headcannons!!! Could I request gender neutral reader giving Simon a Blowjob? I just generally imagine him all whiny and needy. Like he gets an involuntary erection and the reader helps him out <33

—————

Accidents Happen

Pairing: !Simon Petrikov x GN! reader

C! Warning(s): NSFW!, blowjobs, overstimulation, hair pulling, something else idk how to describe??? Like ur like idk, sort of spit/saliva kink, gagging, throat fucking sort of, sort of choking tbh

Synopsis: you and your best friend Simon were just lounging around on the couch on a hot summers day, who knew it would end like this?

Pronoun stuff: ur genitals aren’t mentioned like at all except for maybe one line and it’s pretty gender neutral

Note: ur the one being more dominant and harsh to him in this story, just letting u guys know Cus like ik some ppl don’t like top! readers ???

Also sorry for the Wattpad words 😨

————————

Your day started out like normal, you were simply lying in bed with your leg draped off the side lazily; that was until you got a knock on your door. Planning to stay lazy, you stayed in bed for a little longer not planning to get up. ‘If it’s really that important, they’ll find a way to get to me..’ you thought to yourself as you neglected the person at the door.

“Y/n!” You perked up as you heard your name being called, the sound of a familiar voice ringing through your head “shit, it’s Simon!” You scrambled to get up from your cozy bed to go help him at the door. Your footsteps were heard from outside the house at how fast you were running down the hallway, Simon stared at your front door with a bead of sweat upon his eyebrow as he heard you coming.

Finally, you had opened up the door for him. He was standing there with one of his arms sheepishly rubbing at his elbow, “Simon! What’re you doing here? Not that I mind, but I thought you would’ve texted first..” you crossed your arms and squinted at him. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I was in the area and thought about seeing you.” Simon apologised, the sentence actually sounding pretty sweet to you. “You’re drenched in sweat, did you run here or something?” You chuckled to yourself a little as you looked him up and down.

“No. Just walked. The heat is horrible out there.” Simon huffed and leaned against the wall, you cocked an eyebrow at him “You sure you’re not just exaggerating? I know your body temperature hasn’t been the same since ic-“ Simon cuts you off. He doesn’t wanna hear the name, doesn’t wanna remember any of that. “No. It really is hot out there. I saw a candy girl and she was literally melting!” Simon exclaimed.

You found it kinda cute, but not in a weird way, you told yourself. “You can sit in front of the fan if you want, just turn it on over there.” You pointed towards the fan that was set up in the corner of your living room “..Why do you have a fan out here?” Simon irked at you “..Because it gets hot in the living room? Duh.” You furrowed your eyebrows at him and gave a weird look. “..Right then.” Simon switched the fan on and immediately started to lay down on your couch.

“Oh, and now you’re just stealing my couch. How thoughtful.” You walked over to join him and found that he had left you little room to sit down, “Yes I am actually quite thoughtful- thank you for seeing that prince/ss” Simon chuckled to himself before moving a bit on the couch. “That’s still not leaving me a lot of room, Simon.” You deadpanned at him “Come lay on me then, I don’t mind.” He invited you over to him. It wouldn’t be weird, you told yourself, you and him had cuddled or laid with each other before, it’s what best friends do.

You hesitantly crawled up to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder awkwardly. “Isn’t this only gonna make you feel more hot?” You asked him “Probably.” Simon didn’t really care though since he had the fan turned on him. As you laid there on top of him, Simon moved one of his arms to wrap around you- to make sure you don’t suddenly fall off the couch or something, obviously..

The TV was switched on and before long the two of you were watching bad movies and junk. It was like any other day, that’s how it started. The two of you would always just be hanging out doing random things, sometimes it’d be things even like just standing in the same room together. You two just enjoyed each other’s presence. “Oh, this is a boring movie. I preferred the book much better.” Simon giggled into his hand, you couldn’t help smiling and giggling back at him.

Just as the two of you became engulfed in whatever garbage you were watching, you suddenly felt the air in the room go stagnant. Something was off, and you didn’t exactly know what yet. That was until you felt something ‘weird’ and ‘foreign’ pressing up against your lower back, you weren’t sure what it was at first but you got an idea when you moved your hips back a little and felt Simon tense up. You stayed still for a bit, seeing if he was going to say anything, possibly something like ‘Y/n don’t do that that’s my crotch’ or ‘I’m sorry that I’ve accidentally got a boner let’s just ignore it’

He said nothing, and neither did you. But you were ever so curious to find out if he would eventually say something, to confirm your theory you had to test it. You ground your hips back against his front, making the man involuntarily twitch for just a moment. You didn’t miss it, with the way his arm around you tensed up. “Something wrong?” You turned over your shoulder to ask him, looking up at his now slightly flustered face “N-No, why would something be wrong? Nothings wrong.” Simon stammered out.

“Oh, okay then.” You turn your head away to focus back on the TV but just as you do you feel his hand that was holding your side slightly grip you a little tighter, sending this tingling sensation down your body. You still didn’t dare say anything, wondering where this may be leading to. Simon pulled you a little closer to him, you were flush against him, he tried to do it slowly in hopes maybe you wouldn’t notice but you did. “Simon.” You spoke “Hm?” He tried to act as if he had no idea that you knew what he was doing.

“Why did you-“ he cuts you off “Why did I what?” You furrow your eyebrows at him “pull me closer.” You finish “I didn’t do that.” He lies to you, and yet his fingers grasp onto the fabric of your shirt to hold you a little tighter. You roll your eyes at him, simply deciding to mess with him now at this point. You shifted in your place a bit, your ass now rubbing right against his hard on. It’s a little more obvious now what you’re doing, and Simon ends up realising that just as he releases a soft moan.

The sound reaches your ears, making your cheeks flush. You weren’t expecting a moan, nor one this cute. You tease up a little, turning your head to look up at his face- which was already looking down at you with a slight annoyance. Yet, he had the most adorable flustered looking face you’d ever seen. “Y/n!” Simon exclaims “yeeeeesssss?” You draw it out, you weren’t worried about him being upset with you since you knew the man and that he wasn’t actually mad or upset. “Are you doing that on purpose?” He narrows his eyes at you “doing what?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

“You know what.” Simon spits flusteredly, his cheeks a bright red colour. “Do I?” You turn your head back around, moving your hips against him again. “So you are!” Simon squeals in embarrassment “you are doing this on purpose!” Simon huffs “No clue what you’re talking about Simon.” You pretend to yawn “Right. So you aren’t rubbing your butt up against me on purpose?” Simon deadpanned at you “Where would you get such an idea?” You asked him trying not to laugh.

“From this.” He gently moves you off of him a little and shows you the growing erection showing through his pants, from what you could see he already looked pretty big actually. You looked down at him with widened eyes, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry, still trying to tell yourself that you only see this man as a friend. “Christ, Looks painful.” You swore under your breath, feeling suddenly sorry for this poor man.

“It is.” His cock was strained against his tightened pants, begging to be freed. “And you’re telling me, I did that?” Your tone switched up at the end there which told him that you weren’t innocent at all, not that he thought you were. “.. yes, I guess you did!” Simon turned his head away from you in annoyance. You didn’t say a word, only turning over to face him now. Your hand slowly slid down to find its way to his clothed erection, stroking him gently with your fingertips.

“Y-Y/n!” Simon gasped softly as you touched him, your hand brushing up against his aching cock. “Yeah? What’s up, Simon? What’s wrong?” You asked him ‘innocently’ even as your hand kept stroking at his clothed dick “you’re touching my-“ he gulped nervously. “This okay?” You cut him off to ask him “yes.” Simon replied a little quickly. Simon was panting under your touch now, trying to fight his urges as his hips slowly grind themselves up against your hand.

“Get it out for me, please.”

Simon didn’t hesitate as he started to undo his belt, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor. He then unbuttoned his pants, zipped them down, and tugged them down to his thighs. He then slid his underwear down enough to reveal his length “fuck..” you muttered out quietly as you eyed his erection in its full glory. He was actually surprisingly long, and he was curved. “What’re you gonn-“ Simon bit back his words as he felt you suddenly move your head down to kiss at his tip.

Simon loved it, he couldn’t lie. His eyes were watching you with such content and desire, he could watch you sit and kiss his cock all day. (Not really, if you did that he’d probably get super overstimulated and cum all over your lips and face.) You slowly parted your lips, letting your tongue drag along his slit before moving your head and licking a long line down his shaft. “A-ah..” Simon whined out as you started to lick at him, teasing him before you got to the main bit.

In all honesty Simon could’ve came right then and there, because just seeing you like that in a lewd state made his mind start reeling. Simon whined impatiently, covering his mouth with a hand, his hips jerking up against your touch. You took that as a sign and opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around him as you took him down your throat. There was a slight sting as you felt him take up the room down your throat, making it hard for you to breathe at all. You still tried your best though, moving your head up and down along his cock.

Simon couldn’t stop his greedy self, his hips grinding up against your face, one of his hands grabbing at your hair gently. He wasn’t pulling you or anything, only tangling his fingers in your hair as you sucked him dry. Your mouth was filling up with saliva as you took him down your throat, You don’t stop sucking him off though, instead letting a bit of saliva dribble down your chin. Simon was covered in your spit too, a bit of it starting to cover his thighs. It was a hot sight to see actually.

Simon moaned loudly, his hand that was tangled in your hair now grabbing it slightly tighter. You kept going, your tongue resting against the bottom of your mouth as he basically face fucked you. His hips were grinding against your face and his hand in your hair was slightly pushing you down against him too. It wasn’t long before he ended up cumming, hot bitter liquid pooling down your throat.

You had to swallow it, not sure you could even spit it up with the way it naturally sunk down your throat. Simon pulled out slowly, your tongue sticking out a little still covered in a bit of his cum. You put your tongue back into your mouth and swallowed it, the sight was a real pretty thing to see. Simon now felt a bit exhausted, panting as he laid back on the couch. You giggled at his cute mannerisms, before leaning back down and kissing at the head of his dick to overstimulate him.

It was just to tease him though, wanting to see more of his cute faces. Simon clenched his eyes and used a hand over his mouth to muffle a loud moan that had escaped him. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” You gave him mercy and sat up, allowing him to put himself away. “T-That felt really.. good” Simon admitted.

“I liked it too.”

[cowboyjen68]

Hi!!

I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.

I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).

But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.

Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.

I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.

Is this strange?

ps love u and ur blog lots xx

This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.

I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)

Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.

When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.

When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.

I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.

Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.

You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.

Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.

[fruitstopia]

┊❛ mama'gatha 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 ❜┊hcsᵎᵎ

A/N ; ( x baby!regressor reader / no pronouns mentioned - ) first headcannons YIPPIEEEEE ! also im so glad aggie is getting all the attention she deserves!

━━ routines are always her jam, for you atleast- she doesn't want you to miss lunch or skip baths. from the moment you wake up 'till you fall asleep peacefully at night everything is structered by her to the best way possible, she just wants the best for uuu :(

━━ as your mama she can read you like a book ! so whenever you feel fussy or anxious she uses a completely different tone-! a softer one that successfully lulls you to sleep everytime (gentle mama aggie come save me pls)

━━ as her sweet itty bitty tiny lil baby, she doesnt let you do anything on your own! she handfeds you, bathes you, dresses you up (she puts you in alot of her tshirts)

━━ spends most of her time with you, even if she's tired :'c , after an exhausting day being cooped in the basement learning spells her mind never stops wandering to you, wonderin' what ur doin.

━━ mama 'gatha cooing at you, giving you the best praises ever, exclaiming how proud she is of her baby as you succesfully count to 10 !

━━ she gives in so easily, mama 'gatha is terrible at saying no to you :( ! (only u have the power to do that to her & u dont even know it) a pout here or the moment your lips started to quiver she'll bend in in a sec

━━ would be the most fun, interactive yet gentle caregiver ever, she makes lil games for u with her magic, just giving everything in her might to make you smile.

━━ engages in your lil bab sillies! letting you play your rattle as long as you want (which sometimes could be so fluffing loud, one time one of her neighbours went to check asking if everything's alright, you r just a baby!)

━━ and everytime you go to a babble frenzy where you just babble and babble and babble she pretends like she knows what youre talking about so like 'uh-huhh!!' 'oh youre so right babyy' 'mhmm tell em bub, they shoulda known better!'

━━ always leaves a time in her day to play with you :( she spoils you to THE BRICK (you have a lot of toys!) she would do voices of your plushies/figurines giving them their own different voices & personalities!

━━ everytime you feel bad for regressing or "burdening" her she reminds you how much you mean to her & how much that not only your regression helps you, it helps her aswell !

✪ overall i need mama 'gatha to come here right now and baby the heck outta me!! >:( !!!!!

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod​ @sawaagyapong​ @rystarkov​ @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.” 

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.” 

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid. 

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look. 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees. 

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.” 

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on.  I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.” 

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes. 

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?” 

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging. 

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously. 

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly. 

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.” 

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it. 

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours. 

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.” 

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.” 

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands. 

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion. 

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you. 

~

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part. 

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look. 

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.” 

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air. 

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse. 

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer. 

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun. 

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun. 

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back. 

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you. 

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs. 

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side, 

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.” 

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow. 

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin. 

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.” 

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out. 

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread. 

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen. 

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.” 

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle. 

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.” 

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth. 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.” 

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied. 

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding. 

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.” 

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point. 

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.” 

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain. 

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm. 

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch. 

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you. 

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut. 

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin. 

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair. 

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her. 

“Trial and error.” 

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap. 

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking. 

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.” 

“Must be nice.”  

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.” 

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be. 

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know. 

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford. 

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.” 

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.” 

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.” 

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure. 

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic. 

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.” 

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.” 

You snorted.

~

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off. 

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable. 

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice. 

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.” 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.” 

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her. 

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.” 

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up. 

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left.  “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that. 

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest. 

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement. 

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender. 

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder. 

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead. 

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder. 

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt. 

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering. 

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.” 

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later. 

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.” 

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?” 

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.” 

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?” 

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens. 

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel. 

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said. 

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?” 

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.” 

She did not elaborate. 

~

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound. 

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did. 

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together. 

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.” 

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.” 

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice? 

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring. 

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense? 

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.” 

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.” 

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.” 

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.” 

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?” 

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you. 

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.” 

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart. 

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?” 

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips. 

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?” 

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.” 

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.” 

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.” 

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you. 

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.  

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to. 

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave. 

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right. 

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.” 

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head. 

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind. 

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before. 

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.” 

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

[phagodyke]

actually adding onto this the constant jokes abt how eventually I'm going to "end up trans" (bc most of the ppl in our friend group have transitioned) do rly get under my skin which is the only reason I said smth about it.

in a hilarious turn of events my flatmate didn't even know I use any pronouns....

[busycloudy]

HIIII HOW R U i saw ur 100 follers event and went: OMG UESS LETS SEND IN A ASK

So Can u do romantic chenya hcs or fic on a reader who is bffs with leona but chenya is like actively trying to rizz reader up? Pls twll me if this doesnt make sense and feel free to delete this if ur not in the mood for it :D

Oh ans pls make it gender neutral but female is fine too tyy and make sure to take care of urslef :D

Thanks for asking red! im doing good👍 I loved the idea and writing this, so I hope you enjoy!(I'm not sure if I did this correctly so if I didn't I'm truly sorry!)

A Jealous Cat

 • Reader is gender neutral and goes by they/them pronouns 

• Ft: Chenya and Leona 

• Tw: None 

• A fluffy and crack(?) fanfic 

• Chenya and/or Leona might be a bit ooc 

• Hope ya enjoy! ______________________________________________________________

You and Leona were best friends. Ever since you came to NRC you became friends with Leona at some point, but also a certain cat started to talk to you more. This was Chenya of course! When the two of you first met in the Heartslabyul maze you didn't talk much, but when you and Leona started to become better friends Chenya started to hang out with you more and more, and became a bit clingy to. It wasn't so often when Chenya left Heartslabyul, but for some reason he did a lot more. You would always find his arms on your shoulders, or his tail wrapped around your waist. Especially when you was with Leona he would do this. You were talking to Leona about what Ace and Grim did this morning until you felt a sudden weight on your shoulders. "Boo!" Chenya grinned ear to ear. You just simply sighed, used to his antics by now, and continued talking to Leona about what happened. "Why do you always hangout with this feline? Y'know, I'm much more paw-some, and energetic at that" Chenya interrupted again, wrapping his tail around your leg. You could see Leona slightly scowl, and at that Chenya's grin grew wider, maybe even sticking his tongue out to, but of course you were unaware of this. "C'mon Herbivore, let's get away from this pampered prince" Leona attempted to take you away but Chenya interfered. "Last time I checked Kingscholar you were a prince. Although, I don't recall me being one" Chenya had a small grin on his face. "It won't hurt if we stay with Chenya a bit longer Leona" You said. Leona mumbled "Fine" and you could hear the reluctance in his voice. You and Chenya then started talking. You'd sometimes go back to talking to Leona, but Chenya always found a way to get your attention back. When you and Chenya talked his face slowly got closer to yours, he always made teasing or flirty remarks. Wait...He was...Flirting with you!? The moment he said another flirty remark you instantly became flustered. What was you supposed to do in this situation!? You turned back around to Leona to try and get your mind off of this and started to talk. Chenya let the two of you talk for a moment, his head resting on the top of yours. Eventually Leona left, but before he did so he gave Chenya a quick glance, then finally leaving. As some days past you and Chenya got along more and more, eventually telling each other your feelings, and Leona supports your relationship. ______________________________________________________________

A/N: I think Leona would be a bit protective of you when around Chenya at first, but when you and Chenya's relationship gets stronger he would have trust in Chenya. Maybe a little frenemy thing going on? We love a protective and supportive bestie <3

Hope you liked it red! And again, I'm truly sorry if this is not what you wanted!

(Forgive me for my lack of cat puns)

[nightlyrequiem]

hello there :] hope ur well!

could u possibly write some hcs of Valeria with a tattoo-ist (?? idk wtf theyre called) s/o? I feel like it would be sweet for Valerias girlfriend to help touch up her tattoos!!! (or forcibly etch 'el sin nombre' into a targets skin ..)

or like, imagine Valerias girlfriend tattooing Vals initials into their thigh? Or a subtle hint to Valeria, like a little scorpion tattoo? Asjjsjsjskk wholesome wholesomeness!!!

i ask u to add a little sprinkle of nsfw .. have that interperated as u will, i wont tell u what or how .. but just .. do it 😈 nyehehhehe

I ask of readers prns to be either fem or gender neutral (Valeria is for the gals, i refuse to believe otherwise)

stay peachy!! 👽

Hi :) I am just dandy, thanks. Hope you're doing well too! That sounds like a fun dynamic to write about

Don't worry about the pronouns, you'll never catch me writing Valeria with a man. She is a lesbian. It's canon, she told me so herself

Valeria with a Tattooist S/O

Most of Valeria's tattoos are thanks to you. She had a few done when she was younger by a few different artists but ever since meeting you she will only let you ink her. It's important to have a relationship with your client. You two certainly have a good relationship.

You did all of the tattoos on her left arm. She has one tattoo that says Lillu or Lilto, I genuinely can't remember but I saw someone else a few months ago figure it out. The name was of a goddess of power I believe. I'm genuinely tweaking because I can't remember. It's a really cool detail though. You did that. You should be very proud of yourself.

When Valeria was eighteen, she got a really dumb drunk tattoo, a tramp stamp. Something stupid like a pig. She thinks it's supposed to be a pig anyway. The artist did a terrible job. You had the fun job of covering up. A little scorpion, as is her self-acclaimed symbol. You gave yourself a matching one high up on your inner thigh so she can see it while she eats you out.

That isn't even the only tattoo you've given to yourself attributing her. You aren't supposed to tattoo your partner's name on yourself but it's Valeria. Why wouldn't you want her name on you? You'll just have to never break up, which is fine with you. You got her name tattooed right under your left breast. Right (More of an approximation.) where your heart is.

You tattoo her men too. They make up most of your clientele and are quite respectful. Not like they have much of a choice. It's no secret who you belong to, and they know if they don't act right, they'll have hell to face. You still overcharge the ones you don't like though. A few times Valeria has made you tattoo her little nickname onto the foreheads of the traitors she didn't kill.

Here's where things get kind of freaky. Valeria gets a little turned on by the pain. She can hardly wait for you to finish up inking and cleaning the tattoo before she's pushing you into the chair and having her way with you. You don't mind at all. Seeing her skin still red and tender after having a needle repeatedly pushed into it does something for you as well.

Also, she grunts when getting tattooed. Just going to leave that here. Imagine it how you will.

[osleeplessflowero]

It's been long enough, time to bring back some content for this series. I hope you all enjoy! (Also yay new lily divider! Gonna start putting these around my notes from now on :] credits are in the tags!)

*Notes - Reader Soultype: Bravery🧡 - Reader Gender: Ambiguous, They/Them pronouns by default - Horror goes by Sans - Context from the first two parts is needed for this one to make sense - Words: 3,906

☕Previous Part☕ 🎃First Part 🪓Oneshot Masterpost/List 💜💙 In-Progress Fics Masterpost/List💚💛

Content Warning: Swearing, Violence, Light Blood

A while passed since your coffee meetup with Sans. You've been texting each other pretty much daily, discussing this and that and getting a good laugh out of each other from time to time. He's been really supportive of you since your emotions from your breakup had started hitting you like a truck, bringing your spirits back up when they started to spiral. You really appreciate him for that..

At the moment, you're currently sitting in your living room and replying to the last message your skeleton companion sent you. The two of you had been having a long conversation about something obscure he found, before the topic shifted to meeting his brother, like you'd asked about when you went to go get coffee. Upon being informed, Sans said he was delighted at the idea, and wanted to invite you over for dinner. You eagerly accepted, but not without saying you'd want to bring something over as well.. call it a gift exchange. Perhaps dessert would be best, since he's really looking forward to making dinner.

Thing is, you have no idea what this guy likes, so you don't know how well your decision making could be..

i mean i could just go to the store with you if you need help picking it aint like i have shit to do

You perk up at his reply, grinning. That's perfect! If anybody would know what he likes, it'd be him. And it's an excuse to hang out a little earlier than expected.

sounds awesome, where should we meet? i could just come pick you up tho idk if ur comfortable with me knowing where u live i mean its not like youd be coming over to kidnap me lmao i dont mind sent attachment sick ok i think i know where that is ill be there in a few alrrr i'll get ready then

You hop up from your seat on the couch, walking into your room and picking out some warm clothes so you're comfortable outside. The air has definitely gotten more and more chilly after Halloween, and you're not quite sure if you like that sensation or not.

Hopping a bit to pull on your shoes, you hear your doorbell ring and drop your leg to walk over and look through the peephole. Sure enough, you're met with the skeleton waiting with a bored expression before you open the door.

"Hey! Wow, I didn't think you'd get here so quick." You muse, earning a chuckle from the skeleton as you step aside to let him in out of the cold. Can skeletons feel temperatures? You assume not because of the lack of skin.

He puts his hands in his pockets as he enters, watching you close the door behind him. "i took a shortcut, didn't take long at all. nice place."

"Thanks, it's nothing big, but it's home. That's all that matters, right?" You smile, walking to your bathroom and heading inside to fix your hair how you like it (if you have any, that is.) You leave the door open, glancing over briefly when he stands in the doorway to speak with you.

"yeah, doesn't matter what size. home's a home, anyway." His eyelight drifts around as he inspects what he can see, learning a little bit more about you from observing some of your favorite things. You give him a smile before exiting the bathroom, walking over to the front door to hold it open for him. He follows you out silently, and the two of you begin your walk down the street.

"So..does he like any particular kinds of desserts? Cakes, cookies, brownies, etcetera.. throw me a bone here." You hold up your phone and open your notes app so you can get an idea of what to look for.

"well, anything made from the heart's gonna appeal to him right off the bat. but if you wanna go for something he'll really like.. he loves sugar cookies. like the kind with icing, he eats those up when i get 'em." He smiles, thinking back to a memory. You nod, saving "sugar cookies" to your phone. If you're gonna bake, then it's gotta be something he'd love! That's one way to win him over.

"Sugar cookies it is! Any specific kind of frosting flavor?"

There's a pause. You wait patiently, but when Sans' reply never comes, you look up at his face. His eyes have gone blank, almost like he'd shut down.

"Sans? Are you alright?"

"just..hang on, i..i know it's in there. i know i can remember that, i know i can." He speaks softly, and you frown, stopping in place and stopping him as well.

"Hey. Don't worry if you can't remember. I'll figure something out, don't strain yourself. It's okay, Sans." You reach your hands up, placing them on his shoulders with a reassuring smile. His eyelight slowly reforms in his eye, warbling a bit before returning to its usual large shape.

"..okay. thanks."

You nod, leading the big skeleton along until you finally reach your destination: the grocery store. A nostalgic song plays as you both hear the doors slide open, granting you both access. Thankfully not too many people are inside at the moment, which gives you more room to look and gives Sans a bit more peace.

Seeing as you probably won't need a bunch of ingredients, you settle for a basket and begin walking to look for the baking section. Sans simply walks right beside you, ignoring any stares from other people inside.

"Okay, sugar cookies..I need a box with a mix..I'm not getting the frozen ones, I just wanna make these myself. I could get some red icing maybe, like strawberry? Or cherry? Is there cherry icing? I'm sure there is." You mutter to yourself as you walk, unaware of Sans' fond smile as he watches you talk, making sure to pay attention in case you ask him something out of the blue.

"I could make cute little patterns on them- ooor I could just cover them..I dunno, we'll see how I feel when the baking starts." You smile, reaching your hand up to try and grab a box of the mix you need, but frown when you can't reach it. Gonna need a step stool..

Sans leans a little over you from behind, putting a hand on your shoulder and reaching up to grab the box for you. You smile up at him, thanking him promptly as he shrugs it off. You should ask him to shop with you more often, it'd definitely be easier than climbing the shelves. You used to do that when you were younger, and had gotten caught a few times..well, you won't get caught again!

You look through some different cookie cutters, debating cutting the cookies into shapes, and if so, what shapes in particular to use. Your peace is interrupted when you hear quiet whispering a good distance away, furrowing your brows when you overhear what some people are saying.

Sans tries to pretend not to notice, but you can tell it's really starting to bother him..

You hold out your arm. He looks at you with confusion, raising a browbone.

"Take my arm in yours." You whisper, earning even more confusion. "C'mon, just do it!"

He holds out his arm slightly, and you take that as a cue to wrap yours around it, walking with him down another aisle. When you walk beside the few whispering, you glare daggers at them before looking over some different cookie cutters that are much more to your liking, wondering why they hadn't put them where you were. Poor organization..

Sans keeps his skull turned away, a mix of a blue and red flush covering his cheekbones as he avoids looking at your face. You don't seem to notice, which he's admittedly a bit thankful for.

"Okay! I think that's all that I-"

You hear your name being called, stopping mid sentence. Your eyes quickly dart over to the source, spotting him..

Your Ex.

Your grip tightens on Sans' arm. He snaps back to reality, looking between you and them before realizing. You glare at him as he approaches.

"So. One day you just ditch me out of the blue and now you're hanging out with monster trash. Man, I didn't think you'd stoop that low."

"Shut up. Nobody cares what you have to say. You're the only one who's trash here. Just leave me alone, and get out of my life."

"Woah, easy." He holds up his hands in mock defense. "Got me shaking in my boots, babe! So scary.."

"Yeah, still scared after we spooked the shit out of you in the haunted house?" You tilt your head, a sly smile on your face. His face darkens, and his brows furrow.

"Whatever- Look, you-"

"I just want you to leave me alone. The only reason you finally want to spend time with me now is because I'm gone. You had your chance with me, and now I'm spending my time with way better people. We are through, we will always be through, so leave me be."

"You really think a monster is better than me? You're kidding yourself! Just.. look at him. He's probably an actual axe murdere-"

You move before you can think, punching him square in the nose and watching him stumble. It isn't until you see his blood on your hand and his widened eyes that you realize what you just did, quickly ushering Sans away and pulling him to the checkout section. You have what you need, time to get out of here.

It's quiet as you pay, before you both leave the store. Sans tugs a little on your hand, so you stop, facing him as you calm your breathing down.

"..you okay?" He sounds a little worried.

"Yeah. I'm..I'm alright, now. Are.. you okay?"

"you just punched a guy for me." He states, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Well, yeah. I hate him and he was being a jerk, of course I did. Nobody messes with the people I care about." You grab some napkins from the bag, wiping away your ex's blood as you both make your way across the street.

Sans bumps your hand with his, so you unclench your fingers, allowing him to hold it. ..He's..never done that before. That's new.

Heat rises to your face, and you pray to anyone above that it doesn't show. That's all you need right now.

You enter your home, turning on the lights. "Just go wherever, my house is your house and all that jazz. I'm gonna wear something for baking." You smile, walking to your room. He gives you a thumbs up before you go, sitting down on your couch and covering his face with his hands.

Stars, feelings are complicated. You just made his soul do a somersault twice in a row without even meaning to. It's not fair, why does he have to feel so- conflicted?! He moves his hands down, groaning before taking a deep breath as you walk back in.

"Okay. You wanna bake with me?" You smile innocently, completely unaware of the rollercoaster looping around in his skull. He nods, walking into the kitchen after you, simply watching as you grab an apron and set the oven up for baking.

Several seconds of ingredient hunting later, you set everything out on the counter and get to work. Crack the eggs, add some butter, throw in some oil.. mix. You move around like a robot, earning an amused chuckle from the skeleton as he sits on the same counter to watch you, sending some ingredients over when you need them using magic.

Once you have the cookie dough mixed up properly, you smack his hand away once with a spatula to make sure he doesn't try and snatch any up. Your focus then shifts to the icing, making a bit of a mess as you stir. A bit of it lands on your face that you don't seem to notice, but a certain someone with you does.

"hey, c'mere." He slides off the counter with ease, making you stop in your tracks. He holds his hand up to your cheek, resting his thumb over a small bit of icing. He pauses for a moment, the two of you staring into each other's eyes. Heat rushes to both of your faces, his cheekbones erupting in a blue and red mixed blush as he raises his thumb to his mouth, allowing his mixed tongue to lick away the icing in question.

Oh. Oh man.

You avert your eyes when he does, focusing back on the icing. That's new. A lot of things are new today.

The tension eventually fades out once the cookies have been brought out, now cut into lovely different shapes Sans is sure Papyrus will love. He shares a few stories he can remember from the past, you happily listening along and sometimes replying with witty comebacks to his jokes.

Time flies, and finally the cookies are finished, ready to eat! You almost feel kinda bad that these'll be gone soon..but it'll be worth it if he likes them! You hang up your apron, grinning slyly when you turn back to Sans. He raises a browbone in your direction, when you place a small bit of icing on his nose. He laughs, a determined glint to his eye as he tries to get some of the leftover stuff on you, the two of you chasing each other around the kitchen before you erupt into laughter.

He looks up from the floor at you, and his breath hitches. You have a really nice smile..he should tell you that some time. Not yet, though. No..it's too soon for that.

You grin, licking any leftover icing on you and walking to your room to change into the clothes you'd set out previously for when you go with Sans back to his house. Alright, first impressions are everything! Gotta look nice for the occasion.

Sans stares at the ceiling for a little bit while he waits for you, trying to remember some obscure TV show he watched once as a child with his brother he just can't seem to put a name on. You eventually walk back into the room, determined and ready to go. You walk into the kitchen and grab the lovely bowl of cookies you baked, holding it under your arm.

"So, shall we walk?" You smile as he walks up to you, but then raise a brow in confusion when he shakes his head. Maybe he'd prefer driving? You didn't see a car outside, though..

"i know a faster way to get there, if you're okay with it."

"Sure. What is it?"

"hold my arm for a sec. you might feel kinda dizzy for a little bit." He offers his arm to you, and you accept it quickly.

"OkaaAAAY-" You panic when the ground disappears from beneath your feet, holding onto him tightly and squeezing your eyes shut. It is only when you're back on the ground that you open them, glancing around. ..You appear to be in someone's driveway, someone who owns a very lovely home.

"aaaand we're here. tada." He grins, letting you regain your balance. How did he do that? When did he learn he could do that? Why did he not tell you he could do that befo- that's how he got to your house so fast. Of course. A "shortcut".

"You're really amazing, Sans." You smile up at him, chuckling a little to yourself when he looks away. He leads you up the porch steps to the front door, knocking in a rhythmic pattern and waiting for a moment before it swings abruptly open.

"AH! Brother, There You Are!" The much-taller-than-you'd-expected skeleton exclaims, pushing up his glasses a bit so he can see better. "And You've Brought The Human Along With You! Excellent! I've Just Gotten Started On Tonight's Dinner. Do Come Inside! It's Certainly Much Warmer Than It Is Out There. Sans, You Both Didn't Walk, Did You? It's Easy For Humans To Get Colds!"

You both smile at his rambling as Sans reassures him that he used a shortcut to get here. He's a total contrast to his brother, a ball of energy to counter his brother's overall tired and "lazy" demeanor.

Papyrus gestures for you to walk in, you both promptly remove your shoes at the door when you see that there are a few pairs of boots there already. You can assume literally all of them belong to Papyrus, because Sans is usually either wearing slippers or sneakers.

"Ah! Where Are My Manners." He clasps his gloved hands together, grinning down at you. "I Am The Great Papyrus! I'm Certain My Brother Has Told You About Me Already." He grins, his braces shining when the light of the ceiling fan above him hits them.

You smile, moving one of your arms to hold it out to shake his hand, watching him eagerly grab it. "It's nice to meet you in person, Papyrus." You tell him your name, and he makes sure to remember it for next time.

"Sans told me you were really looking forward to making dinner tonight, sooo I thought I'd bake some cookies! We can have them after dinner's over with, and you guys can keep them for a while until you run out. And if you like them, well..I'd be more than happy to make some more."

Papyrus gasps, putting a hand where his heart would be, as if he'd been struck right through it. "Oh, That's So Kind Of You! And Fitting For The Occasion! You Can Place Them On The Counter For Now, There Should Be An Open Space."

You do as instructed, admiring all the lovely little details in the home. They certainly tell you plenty about the two, and the things they like.. There's a ton of pretty patterns in the wood in some parts of the kitchen, presumably crafted by Paps himself. There are some red gingham curtains gently blowing with the breeze from outside before he closes the windows, and you briefly catch a glance of a clothesline with drying clothes. Huh, Papyrus must be into cosplay. That's cool!

Sans spooks you, giving you a pat on the shoulder as he walks up to his room. Ooh..this gives you an opportunity to see it..you would hate to pry, though. Maybe another time you can. You'll definitely be visiting later.

Deciding not to pester him, you focus your attention on Papyrus, who's happily humming a tune you don't recognize and cooking up something that makes your mouth water.

"So," His voice catches you off guard, making you jolt. "How'd It Happen?"

"How'd..what happen, exactly?" You smile, leaning a bit on the counter to watch him work.

"How'd You Meet, And How'd You Convince My Brother To Think So Fondly Of You?"

"We met at a- wait, he thinks fondly of me?"

"Well, Of Course He Does! Don't Tell Me You're As Blind As I Am Without Glasses." He lets out a nyeh-heh, stirring something. "He Talks About You Quite Often!"

"He does?.." Your voice is soft when you ask, heat creeping back up to your cheeks before you shake your head to try and make it go away.

"Indeed! Now, I'll Repeat The Other Part..How'd You Meet? I'm Very Curious About That."

"Well, it all started when me and my..well, he's my ex now-"

"Oh, Is This Drama? Now I've Certainly Got To Hear About This. I Love A Little Bit Of Gossip." He grins slyly, and you let out a laugh before going into detail about everything.

Papyrus is such a lovely person to talk to, even if you have to repeat what you say a few times because of his hearing problems. You can definitely understand why Sans thinks so highly of his brother.

Speaking of Sans, he finally joins you both downstairs after a while, having changed into an almost exact replica of the clothes he had been wearing before but much cleaner. Look at him, getting dressed up for the occasion..

Papyrus finishes making his masterpiece, and you all sit down at the table together. It's such a warm environment..Sans cracking jokes, Papyrus groaning but making a few of his own in return..the two sharing fond stories from the past..Papyrus talking about his work and what he loves to do..you could listen to him for hours. The food is immaculate, and you fight the urge to groan with delight at the taste.

When dinner is finished, you send your compliments to the chef, and the taste test for the cookies begins..you stare with anxious anticipation as he inspects a skull-shaped cookie, amused by your choice before biting into it. Silence fills the room before he grins in your direction, putting his hands on his hips.

"This Is Excellent! You Did Wonderfully! Stars, I May Run Out Of These Within The Week! GAH!" He puts his hands on his skull, you and Sans letting out a laugh at his expressions.

"Don't worry, Paps. I'll definitely make some more for you later."

"Wonderful! You Simply Must Show Me How You Make Them. They're Exquisite!"

"Maaybe..but good magicians never reveal their secrets, do they?" You smile slyly. He gasps in understanding, before placing his fist against his palm.

"Right. Fair Enough!"

You don't realize how fast time flies when you're having fun. You could spend eternity with these guys, without changing a thing. They're both so much fun to be around, and..it's really nice, being surrounded by such caring people.

Before you know it you're sitting on the couch, listening to Papyrus ramble about scandals in the monster celebrity world, promptly gasping when you hear something shocking. Sans simply watches the both of you with a lazy smile, chiming in from time to time before you all focus on whatever movie's playing on the TV.

One movie turns into several..

You feel your eyes slowly close as you lean against something big and warm, relaxing with a smile.

Sans freezes when he looks down at you, holding his hands in the air and unsure where to put them. Papyrus scoffs, motioning for him to put his arm around you. Sans looks at him with an expression that screams "are you crazy?!" before Papyrus shoots one back, rolling his eyes and waving him off before whispering a good night to him and heading upstairs. Fuck. What does he do? He couldn't just..could he?

His eyelight darts around until it rests on your sleeping form. He sighs for a moment, before abruptly shortcutting to your house and ensuring that the doors are locked, reappearing in the spot he had been sitting in before. You readjust your position, getting even closer this time.. His face flushes again as he lowers an arm over you, unable to look away. Oh jeez.. Ain't this complicated? Well..lots of things are, aren't they?

Hearing your soft breathing leaves him feeling calm..content. He's..alright with this. He'll embrace the moment for a little while, while it lasts. He focuses on the screen, until his eyes begin to close as well..maybe a nap wouldn't hurt.

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

Kiss it away, honey. pt.2

(s.h. x gn!reader)

part 1

Warnings: use of y/n; no pronouns used (gn!reader); half of this fic is flashbacks so soz if u have a problem with that; dark themes, horror/psychological horror, murder, death, hospitals; ignore any and all medical inaccuracies pls thenks; nightmares; arguing/shouting; gaslighting(?); bad familial relations; codependency; a general sense of dread :) 

Word count: 12.8k

a/n: the world sucks, i'm sad, spaced out a lot and wanna jump off the face of the earth. here are my lil codependent babies to mess with ur mind a bit. enjoy!

also shoutout to sanjana for helping me out with going through ideas of this fic, ily<3

masterlist

…

Everything was supposed to be right. And it is.

Everything is right. Almost. Everything is right except Steve still remembers everything.

He thought he’d forget with you. He was supposed to. Like he always had before. 

But he still remembers everything. everything; seeing you for the first time, kissing you for the first time, touching you for the first time. 

The story goes that he first saw you in Family video. He didn’t. But he also did. 

He didnt in the sense that there is no family video. no town named hawkins. he has no real memories of it. just stories and moments in his head, none backed up by actual memories. 

Nothing before you.

what he does remember is you recounting it all with a spark in your eyes. So it might as well be real. 

so, he did meet you in family video, Hawkins, when you came in looking for a movie to cheer yourself up. You did become friends and then you kept coming. And then one day, you had asked him to run away with you and he had said yes. That is how the story goes. because you said it.

he can almost imagine it too, if he tries hard enough.

His true first memory however, is of the two of you sharing the bed in this very same apartment.

It was dawn. lights out. quiet. The first thing he heard was your breaths while you slept. the dim sunlight filtered through the curtains, he found himself entranced by the vision of you. He could see your chest rising and falling with your breaths, your lashes brushed over your cheeks, hair a mess above you.

He loves you. That's all he knew then. Somehow he just knew. That's still all he knows. 

His fingers searched for your hand underneath the blanket he was sharing with you. And when he found them, he pulled them up, warm and soft lips moving over the back of your palm, landing small and sweet pecks on every knuckle.

You'd stirred in your sleep before your eyes opened, nose burying further into the pillow, “honey, what are you doing?” Your voice came through a smile. You looked at him with sleepy eyes like he was your everything. Like you love him. like you've loved him for a while.

“‘m sorry, honey. Was just lovin’ on you”, his own voice came out rough and sleepy, nose burying its way back to the back of your hands.

“Loving on me…”, you had repeated with the corners of your mouth curling up.

The action made something blinding and warm spread through his chest. it made him want to see more of that smile of yours. He had let out a playful hum through the butterflies, a smirk of his own spreading across his lips, “that so wrong?”

“Not at all”, the pillows rustled when you shook your head, biting your lips but your grin spilled through it regardless.

He had pulled you closer, your hands squished between your warm bodies. You had smiled up at him all adoring as if you had done it for ages. And in that moment, all that rang in his head and heart was– you’re his. his person.

You had tilted your head, lips connecting to his. And it all just fit. slow at first, then deep. as if it was a dance you had done a billion times before. It was all fizzing and buzzing in his chest. 

You’re his person. And it's all love.

Like two puzzle pieces, his hands reached up to fit your cheek and yours found their way to fit the nape of his neck. it all had felt so damn right. It was perfect. 

like you were made for each other.

He’d laugh at that now if it didn't fill him with dread.

He doesn't mind that memory though. it's the other shit he loathes— all of this remembering. the silence he wants to forget. the truth he wants to forget. You being sick. you telling him that's none of it is real. Its you dying, he wants to forget. the days after. the loneliness. the silence. 

it's his own dead face, he wants to forget.

He wants to forget all that. it's the ignorance that he needs back. the bliss of it.

For now, he remembers. He will fix everything though. He will make you make him forget. 

But right now, you're kissing him by the apartment door. 

after having just come back from a grocery run, your hands are all over him. it's taunting how you don't hold him how he wants you to. you don't hold him like you used to, with your fingers in his hair and massaging the nape of his neck, your lips on his. The way that makes him forget. The way you used to before you forgot that night. He just wants you to make him forget. the truth. the blood. the silence.

He even tried doing it himself, tried to do it like you used to. He tried forgetting. Nothing happened. He still fucking remembers. He reckons its only you who can make him forget– like you're two pieces of a puzzle, or the opposite poles of a magnet, moth to a flame or some other poetic shit like that.

your kisses are lovely against his neck, the slight graze of your teeth on the moles dotting his skin could pull a groan out of him. your free hand goes to knead at the muscle of his shoulder, nowhere near where he needs you. But all he can think about is your cold lips, lifeless hands, tubes, wires. how he's seen those same hands fragile and lifeless. the flicks of your hot tongue could make him melt away if he wasn't thinking about hearing your last breath. the long unending beep of the heart monitor flatlining.

God, he just wants to forget it.

Your fingers are wrapped around his bicep now, other hand flat on his chest. your lips are soft and warm, nose digging into his jawline, he can smell your shampoo and it's all so damn dizzying. It's great but it's not quite right.

every time you kiss him, he doesn't forget. You don't hold him like you did. It's different now. It just isn’t right. your fingers dont snake their way into his hair like they used to, they don't stop at that spot near the nape of his neck that always made him melt. your fingertips don't rub into the skin there anymore, feeling the pulse underneath. You don't kiss him like you did. the way that makes him forget.

you pause when you realise that he isn't quite reciprocating, pulling away slightly to look at him, eyes flitting over his features. His eyes are closed shut, hair a mess. brows pulled together, lips slightly parted. “Steve… you okay?” you ask with your brows knitted.

He blinks before wrapping his arm around you and pulling you back in. you’re warm under his touch. He nods quickly, a smile flashing across so quickly you aren't able to tell if it's real or not. He leans in, lips connecting to yours.

It's still you, he hates that he has to remind himself.

It's still you, who always makes an effort to make the simplest meals look a little pretty. It's still your adorable smile. You still hold his hand the same when he is cooking, kiss his knuckles when he hums a random tune. He still catches you looking at him when you think he isn't looking. You still smell the same. You still say his name the same, moan it the same. 

when you lean to kiss him deeper, he unconsciously pulls away again, “Steve if you don't want to then–”

He shakes his head a little, “C-can I change first?”

…

When he steps out of the bathroom, he finds you already on the bed. “Hey”, he murmurs, you've changed out of your clothes now, a pair of comfy shorts on and Steve's old Hawkins t-shirt that he refuses to wear, saying it was too damn large and he hates wearing loose fitting clothes. as comfy as you look, the sight of the shirt only reminds him of one thing. Hawkins. Hawkins isn't real. He isn't real. you aren't real– well, that part is complicated.

“Hey”, you smile softly as he settles on the bed beside you. 

“We can kiss now”, he says awkwardly.

You move to lie on your back, sinking into the mattress, “I figured you don't exactly want to right now”

“I… uh– it's not that I don't want to, I just– it's not the mood right now, you know?” he stutters through it, avoiding your eyes. 

You hand reaches for his without even thinking about it. “That's fine. what ‘bout cuddling, that the mood?”

He is silent for a second and fuck he suddenly wants to kiss you now. Instead he nods, “Mhmm”, he hums as your thumb rubs over the veins of the back of his hand. God, he doesn’t fucking deserve this. he fucking killed infront of you.

“Come here, then”, you tug at his hand. He bends at his waist, face finding its place on your stomach. His nose pokes into the soft of your belly. You’re warm underneath the t-shirt. His t-shirt. He sighs into the fabric. God, he just wants to kiss you. 

You both stay that way for a while. It's quiet, no words, no other noise. Just your breaths and his. Your heartbeat and his. 

You are almost asleep when you feel his warm fingers creep their way under the hem of the t-shirt before they move to pull the fabric up a bit. A hot kiss on your tummy accompanied by another deep sigh is what makes you ask with a light chuckle, “What're you doing?”

He just wants to forget. He wants you to make him forget.

“Nothing, just loving on you”, his words are muffled as he noses his way up your torso before they find their place on the side of your neck.

“Steve…", your voice tapers off as his lips and teeth work on the skin of your neck, "y-you just said–”

“Just, let me honey", he pulls away only a little to look you in the eyes. His eyes are dark yet tender. right now, you can barely see the honey in them, but they're there. "Please?” he licks his lips.

All you do is nod before his hands are all over you again, lips on yours so quickly that it makes you dizzy. too quick. It's like he gets hungrier as every second that passes. Hungrier and deeper.

“Hey, woah, slow down”, he doesn’t. You push his chest a little, trying to make your voice sterner, “hey, Steve– Honey!” 

He is still then. Looks at you with his pupils blown, lips parted and red from kissing you. His chest heaves, heart loud and fast under your palm. you're both sitting up when you ask, “you okay? You-your heart’s beating so fast."

“Huh, I have– y-you can feel my heartbeat?”, he looks at you as if he'll believe whatever you say and follows it blindly with devotion. I have a heartbeat?

You nod once.

“I feel... Okay?” he answers, face scrunching, unsure.

“You're not supposed to say it like a question, honey”, you try to joke, to lighten the obvious weird mood.

“I’m okay”, he doesn’t smile back before moving in to kiss you again. But before his lips could touch yours, you stop him– hands on either side of his face.

“Hey, just breathe, Steve”, you brush aside his hair even though it falls right back. he frowns when you don't let him connect his lips to yours like you're depriving him of air itself. like you're taking God away from a man devoted.

you tuck his strands again, trying to make him look at you, to make him slow down. “Hey, look at me? Breathe…” his eyes finally find yours, the haze in his gaze lifts a little as he tries to match his breathing to yours. “good", you praise him, rubbing his cheek. its when his breathing is close to even when you start, “Look, let's just not…”

“But I–”

“Steve...”, he doesn't listen. instead, he takes your hand and pulls it up to his shoulder, “Steve–”

“I’m not doing– I just– I just have this crick in my neck.” he freezes for what is a fraction of a second. because he said that. the other steve. the one he killed. His palm goes up to the nape of his neck, rubbing the skin there, “Can you uh..”, he trails off. He just wants to forget. “Can you give me a massage like you always do?”

After a few moments, you answer, “okay.” you sit up saying that, turning him around by his shoulders. The air is weird as you ask him where the hurt is. And as he pulls your hand up to where he needs you, his own hands shake.

You are gentle as your thumbs rub into the skin. Slowly, his muscles relax up. The atmosphere feels a little better when he lets out a satisfied groan when hit a particular spot.

That is when you feel it, “Weird..”, you mumble.

“What?”

“I dont know", your fingernails scrape a little over the raised skin, "you have these... I guess, bumps?”

you feel him tense under you but he still says calmly, “They've... always been there, haven't they?”

“I… I never noticed.”

“Well, maybe pay attention to me then”, it comes out more bitter than he would ever intend for you. He regrets it immediately. hates himself even more when your fingers stop. “Sorry, that was rude”, he instantly tries to backtrack.

you clear your throat, “You're fine. I should've paid more attention", shaking your head dismissively before as if saying it's no big deal. but your hands stay still where they were, not moving back to their rhythm they had on his muscles.

You feel his hand snake its way to yours. Once he has the fingers intertwined, he pulls you forward. “Hey…”, you almost admonish.

“Honey”, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles as he turns to face you, looking at you with pleading eyes, “Please just let me kiss you, honey.”

"Steve..."

"please, y/n–"

"Steve, I don't think–", he won't listen.

“Just do it, honey, please?”

"Steve, why are you--"

“Oh my god, please honey, can you just do what I FUCKING TELL YOU!” His voice is loud. And angry. You shift away from him a smidge as your face falls, he feels your hand retract from his shoulder. 

Everything is still then. Steve regrets it's soon as the frustrated words leave him. “No, no, no– I’m sorry," he starts, one hand moving to pull you back in to where you had been, the other going up to your cheek. "honey, please–”

You duck away from his hands, moving off of the bed, “Don’t shout at me.” you're frowning and it's all his fault.

His hand reaches out again before he stops himself, “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sorry, i’m just stressed, I didn't mean it like that– I didn't mean it like anything, I swear”

“I think I’m gonna go for a walk”, you state moving further away from him before trying to slip past him to the door.

He rushes to stand in your way, blocking the door, “No, no you can’t go–”, your nostrils flare a little at that despite your glassy eyes. He clears his throat, “I mean-- I'll go, honey. I’ll go, okay?" he bargains, holding his hands up as if surrendering and taking a step back. "I’m sorry”

And as he walks out the apartment door, you don't stop him.

…

Steve. he hasn't been back for a while now. you hate he shouted at you, but you really wish he'd come back so you could talk it out already.

The phone rings.

“Hello?” you say, expecting probably from one of Steve's friends’ voice; likely robin or dustin. But all that reaches your ears is the dial tone. There have been a lot of calls like this lately. Especially when its you picking up.

“Hello?” you ask again, brows scrunching in confusion. You wait for a few more seconds, before hanging up. prank call. Or the phones gone to shit.

You barely walk away a few steps when the phone starts ringing again. You let out an annoyed sigh and hold it up to your ear, not even bothering to say a greeting.

Beep. beep. Beep.

Furious, you slam the receiver onto the switch. Stupid fucking phone.

…

Some things don't change. It's 7:08 p.m. and he is here again. standing infront of the apartment door.

Theres things like that about you too. majority of the time, he isnt there when you come home, but on his days off, he always notes you walking in at 5:48 p.m. 

When he walks in, he finds you by the kitchen island, making dinner. The kitchen counter. Blood on the kitchen counter. A cracked open skull. His own blood on the kitchen counter. He swallows. You have the cutting board in front of you, cutting vegetables.

When he looks up, he finds you smiling at him. And he wants to smile back, jesus, he wants to see more of yours, but couldn't make himself. He licks his lips, gaze falling to the floor. Blood on the floor. Fuck, he’s getting dizzy. His own blood on the floor. 

“You’re home”, you say and he all but nods. "c'mere honey. help me out?" you say sickly sweet, nodding towards the ingredients infront of you. "gonna cut up some stuff, make us a little drink, please?"

he nods silently. Eyes ashamed and not meeting yours. He starts walking over to where you are in the kitchen. His toe catching at the corner of the wooden floorboard poking out, close to the kitchen island, making him stumble. A dead him on the floor with his insides spilling out. Half open eyes, jaw hanging. So much fucking blood. He definitely wasnt fucking jealous anymore.

“You okay?” you ask immediately, looking up from the onions on the cutting board. 

He barely casts you a glance before his gaze falls back on the floor where he had just tripped. He mumbles a barely there “yeah”, before continuing to make his way towards the fridge.

You keep looking at him, hoping to see his eyes. Wishing he'd stop hiding them from you. But he smelled of shame. His shoulders drooped, making himself busy, preparing the drinks.

You sigh softly to yourself before turning back to the vegetables infront of you. You’ll talk later. You adjust your hold on the knife, continuing your work on dicing the onions. 

The kitchen echoes of the knife against the wooden board and pouring of drinks. The metal in your hand glints when it slips a little. A shriek falls from your lips when the sharp blade lands on the tip of your finger. it stings and burns.

You hear steve drop the ice tray back on the counter. "oh shit, honey. hold on." he is so quick as he pulls you towards the sink, turning on the faucet. Though it hurts, you don’t even know if you're bleeding. Still the water changes colour to an orangish pink as it runs over your finger. As Steve holds your hand under the flow, you realise his fingers that wrapped around your wrist are shaking. You let him do whatever he needs to do. but damnit you also need him to calm down, he looks like he’s tending to a slit across your wrist rather than an accidental knick.

When the water runs clear, he turns to grab a paper towel. he's frantic as he does so. He applies the pressure a bit too hard. you hiss but try to reassure him nonetheless, "Steve, honey, it's fine."

"no, no. I gotta stop the bleeding." he doesnt look up at you as he dabs away the last drop of blood, he doesn't look up as he bandages you up. You wait for him to look at you as he looks down at where his hands hold yours. Or maybe its yours holding his.

the still after he's done kills you.

you cup his cheeks with your other hand. he is stiff under you yet he keeps looking at your hurt finger. you brush aside his messy coffee brown strands. tucking some of his hair behind his ear even though it falls right back. your hold his face for a bit, trying to make him look at you. your pinkie rests behind his ear, thumb tracing over a freckle on his cheek.

so close, Steve thinks, so damn close. your fingers are right there, your lips are right there. 

he hears you sigh softly, eyes still not meeting yours before you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling into his collar.

"you ok? feeling dizzy?" he is quick to ask.

"Steve. it was just a little cut. I'm not gonna get dizzy from that”, you smile at his overprotective worry, warm nose nudging into the crook of his neck. “besides, I can't not be fine. I have got the best nurse from Hawkins with me."

Hawkins. Hawkins is not real.

his shoulders go rigid and it makes you lift your head up, pulling back to look at him. You're looking up at him so sweetly, silently asking 'do you want me to stop?'

He smiles back at you after a second before landing a soft and slow kiss on the apple of your cheek. You put your head back where it had been earlier. Something spreads in his chest, then it tightens. He realises, you’re trying to calm him down. To ground him. As if he actually deserves it. fuck, he fucking loves you so much. 

“I’m so sorry”, it comes out of him as a whimper.

“Its okay, Honey”, your voice is calm and soothing, “We’re okay.”

He leans in, putting his head on your shoulder as well. Your scent fills his senses. The tightness transforms into a warmth for just a second. He breathes out, exhausted.

“Steve, what is it? Just talk to me.“

He sniffs, “Think i’m tired. I’m just tired.” his voice comes out all thick and weary.

“From work?” you run a soothing palm across his back.

“I'm just tired honey. Tired”,  and scared. “I… I don't know… it's the stress probably I–” he cant tell you, he cant. He cant lose you. Let you leave. He needs you. You need him. you're supposed to need him.

“Honey, don't hide stuff from me”

But he could never lie to you. You're his person. But you cant know. You cant fucking know.

“my baby, my honey, please don't cry”, he blinks. only now, realising that his eyes are wet and red, tears running down his cheek. He had murdered. In front of you. 

"hey, c'mere", you try to pull him into a hug.

“I’m not good to you, y/n”, you shake your head, trying to shush him as he repeats himself, “I’m not”

"Steve. You are, honey. you are so good to me. d'you know how good you are to me? you treat me better than anyone ever has." you hold his face so he looks at you. "you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You're my steve." His face scrunches up, chin quivering as if he was on the verge of sobbing out loud. "you're my everything, honey."

He is finally looking at you, right in the eyes. his brown pools glisten like honey with his unshed tears. his eyes sunken, “You look so tired”

"Tell you what, honey, forget the drink, let's just have dinner, and sleep, okay? I'll even give you that massage you wanted"

"n- no, you don't have to-"

“I didnt ask.” You're looking at him, the way you always have. All sweet and loving like he’s your every and all. And he is. 

The food tasted of guilt.

it is when you're washing the dishes, you say, “Hey, can you see the phone? It kept ringing earlier but then when i picked it up it was just a dial tone again”

“I’ll check it tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” 

He has ‘fixed’ the phone before. The day after that awful night. The night of tears and blood and phone calls. 

She hasn't called since then. The new thing is empty calls. They only happen when its just you. And when picked up they're just that, empty. The dial tone. 

He’ll fix that too. 

He’ll carry the horrible things he remembers with him forever as long as you’re in that forever. If you leave then…. He’ll… he isnt sure what will happen. He’ll die maybe. If he ever was alive in the first place. He wont survive. He won’t be.

You need to stay. You’re happier this way. 

Right?

It creeps up his throat. guilt. shame. What if you aren’t happy? what if you forgot that you aren't happy? He’s been selfish, he knows but what if he’s being selfish and making you live through something that you don't want? What if you don’t want it but just don’t know it yet?

He’ll fix this mess, he promises. He’ll fix it all. He'll fix the phone, clean up everything and make a nice dinner for you when you come back from work.

In bed now, your fingers rub over his skin-- fingers going nowhere near where he needs you to forget it all. “Feel better?” you check in.

He doesn’t. He nods anyway. He can’t lie out loud.

its as if he felt nothing as you rubbed at his skin. When you're done, you kiss him all over. the kisses taste of guilt. it all tastes of guilt.

…

“y/n get inside”, 

Everything's a blur. There was steve. Then someone else as well. You weren't sure who.

You are hiding in your shared room. Peaking through the slightly ajar door. They both face each other, squared shoulders, loud voices. 

You can't look away. 

Steve lunges forward with a rolled up fist. His knuckles connect hard with the other’s cheek. There’s a shout. There are thuds. More knuckles hitting jaws. More grunts. They all sound the same. 

it's Steve. Your steve. they both are. 

it happens too fast and then it's over. Quiet. 

Your back is to the wall, its like you cant breathe. The door creaks open. your steve. With a little blood on him, but he’s your steve.

He gives you that smile thats all endearment and adoration, yet the words that come out of those same lips contradict his easygoing and soft expression. “you can't stay hiding forever, honey”

you weren't sure how, but you find yourself beside the kitchen counter. your eyes land on the countertop. The deep, dark blood a stark contrast against the plain beige granite. The blood is viscous, almost brown. it doesn't look like actual blood.

When you look down, its steve. Except he’s not yours. He’s disfigured. Lips parted, eyes half open, lifeless.

And blood. A pool of the too-dark blood around his skull. Spilling from it. His skull, Steve’s skull. Tears blur your vision, bile rising up your throat. But the insides you expected to be there aren't there. It's hard to tell with the blood, but it looks nothing like flesh, you aren't even sure what it looks like. you just know it makes you want to look away. just when you're about to, he moves.

the disfigured Steve. his neck turns, facing you. his broken jaw moves as he horrifyingly chokes out, “You can't stay here forever.”

Its sickening, all of it. You feel yourself stumble back, bumping into the other Steve, “Honey”, you turn around and you are met with a face you're all too familiar with. Steve's face, alive and fine except for the blood thats splattered on his face and hands.

“Steve?”

ring-ring. ring-ring.

your gaze snaps towards the source of the noise. the bright red phone rings blaring loud from its place on the wall.

“it's for you honey”, this steve– your Steve says. you walk closer to the phone, it's ringing deafening yet you don't pick it up. it scares you, you realise. 

and as the plastic of it clammers against itself with each passing ring, you stare at it, fists balled up beside you, heartbeat loud in your ears, breathing out of control. your mind shouts at you to pick it up. 

pick it up. Pick it up. Pick. It. Up. PICK IT–

Beep. Beep. Beep. the phone is to your ear now, your hold tightly on it. and beneath the beeping you hear something else. or rather someone.

“I am not going to let you do that”, you hear a woman say. its faint. you really have to strain your ears to hear it. you aren't sure from where, but you recognize that voice.

“I’m thinking of the future, you can't stay here forever”, it's a younger woman. You know her too. You know both of them. it's voices shouting at one another. it feels as if you’re listening in on an argument. they are voices you think you've heard before. voices you haven't heard in a long while. it's all overlapping voices. all familiar.

just when you were about to put the receiver back up, blood. you see blood, seeping from the phone, bleeding through the wallpaper. it's dark and thick as it slowly trickles down the wall. you flinch away from it.

When you blink, you’re back in your room. Your heart practically beating out of your chest. you sit up straight immediately.

“Honey, what–” Steve is awake beside you, hair sleep mussed and concern etched onto his features.

“Steve?”, you say his name through a heaving chest.

“What is it?” he moves in closer, brushing aside the hair that was falling infront of your eyes.

You don't answer him, instead you hug him. your arms going around his shoulder, body draping over his.

“You okay?” he asks dumbly despite knowing you arent.

“I had– I just had the most horrible dream. it was–”, you stutter, burying your burning face into his neck. It's pretty damn hard to get the image of the cracked open skull of your lover out of your head. "god, it was horrible", you sniffle, shaky hands cradling the back of his head.

“Its okay, you're okay”, he says softly, hand rubbing your back to try to give you any semblance of comfort. for a while, the room just sounds of your sniffles. he speaks up after a while, “do you want to talk about–”

“no.” Your arms tighten around him.

“... well, whatever it was. it wasn't real, honey.”

This is another thing he learned. no memory ever truly gets erased. that moment where you saw him do what he did to the other him, although forgotten is still hidden somewhere in the recesses of your mind. it's some subconscious or unconscious mind bullshit.

he had killed. murdered. in front of you. for you. and he hates to admit it to himself, but he knows damn well he'll do it again. a million times. as long as you're there.

the floorboards can creak, stick up and trip him. his own visage can haunt him if it must. as long as you're his.

If lying is what keeps you here then so be it. He’ll lie a billion times. if it makes you stay.

…

Your eyes burn as you grab your keys but its not from sadness, no, its pure unadulterated anger. The straps of your duffel bag and backpack dig into your shoulders. Your entire room is in these bags now– your entire childhood, all your teenage years.

You’re as quiet as can be as you walk to your car, you spare one last look at the house you grew up in, where your parents and sister still sleep unaware that they won't find you the next morning. 

You don't feel sorry for them. You don't feel remorse. You don’t feel regret. Not a single iota.

When you turn the key, the ignition is not nearly as quiet as you want it to be. You shift the gear, foot on the pedal, hoping that by the time anyone realises you’re far enough that they don’t get ahold of you.

It is when you drive past the sign that reads ‘visit again’ does it really hit you. You’ve left. You’ve done it. A grin spreads itself across your face, tears now dried. Finally, you laugh to yourself. You don’t plan on ever visiting again. 

The ecstasy only lasts for so long, though. Because its around 3 am and the roads are dark, eerie and worst of all empty. On one hand, its a good thing, there’s no one to witness you, no chances of anyone reporting you. But on the other side, your instincts shout at you to find some light. The highway is way too damn dark.

Thankfully, the adrenaline is still high, you’re nowhere near sleepy to worry about stopping in the middle of nowhere or falling asleep on the wheel.

You put in one of the mixtape that was lying in the glove box. Songs you had listened to thousands of times before. 

You plan on driving for a couple more hours then around sunrise, stop at a diner when it’ll be more busy, filled with mostly truck drivers, maybe some travelling families. More busy means less chances of anyone paying attention to you. That's what you want.

…

You’re sitting in your car, fingers tracing over the roads of the map. You have no idea where you’re going to go. You really should've planned something. 

You take a huge bite of the breakfast sandwich you hold in your other hand. Its greasy smell made you realise just how hungry you really were. A piping hot coffee sits in the cup holder after you had burned your tongue with it. 

Despite the warm orange light of the sunrise shining on your face, you were definitely sleepy now. But despite how much you wanted you, you couldn't rest. Not yet. You’re not far away enough. You’re lucky, the news of you running away probably hasn’t reached people's ears yet. But you’re going to run out of luck soon. Your dad has probably already called the police. They’ve probably started looking for you, or maybe not. You hope to god that the cops do an awful job like they mostly tend to do.

To throw them off your trail, you got off the highway and decided to take a more convoluted route away from your town. You still don't know where you’re going. You're not sure where you’ll go. just somewhere far, far away, never to return. 

You drive among what are mostly trucks and maybe a few cars here and there. With the windows down, your hair flows with the wind. the smell of the fresh morning, aroma of the coffee you occasionally take a sip from, and the exhaust from the other vehicles fills the car.

you'd grown tired of your stupid mixtape somewhere around 6 am. and now that quiet eats at you as well, your hand reaches for the console to turn on the radio instead. 

“--think the coffee I just made is a laxative level threat, so, if I end up shitting my pants in the middle of the show, I expect you lovely people to hold my hand." the radio host rambles on before pausing for a moment as if realising what he had just said. "I… pardon my french. I really hope my boss didn’t hear… any of this, he’s going to give me another strike..”, you hear a sigh and find yourself letting out a chuckle at that unexpected rambling.

the man clears his throat before he turns on his professional radio-show host voice, “Anyway! moving away from talks of the gut– Hello, hello, to my lovely ladies and my handsome gentlemen. this is Steve over here and you're listening to me and my ramblings.. and maybe a song or two in between– Based on your requests of course. Anyway, before we move onto the next song, my nerd friend– I'm saying that endearingly of course– he told me something about Stephen Hawking the other day…” he drones on and on, he really did mean the part about the rambling.

…

You need gas. 

You’ve been driving for hours with little to no breaks in between. You suppose you’re far enough. Both you and your car need a breather. 

You’re grateful that the gas station you pull into is mostly empty except for one car. You park and first make your way into the convenience store. Your eyes scan over the store, one employee, two teenagers. You sigh of relief, if you play your cards right, you won't get noticed as anything out of the ordinary.

as you scour through the snack aisle, the only other customers– two teenagers do so as well. Fortunately they were too engrossed in their own conversation to pay any heed to you.

“.. yeah, I mean I had left the room for like a minute!" the teen boy exclaims in a hushed tone, "and my mom was already showing suzie our family videos from when I was little. Even the ones in which I'm butt-naked, I was six months old but still..." the other boy snickers at that.

before you could hear more of their exchange, you make your way onto the counter where the cashier whose badge read Dustin was. You need to be out of here. Even if no one notices you, it only now has dawned on you that this place most definitely has security cameras. Once you check out and pay for the gas, you are out the door like the wind.

The sun had set about an hour ago, its getting dark quick and your eyes are heavy. Steve is back on the radio again, talking about god knows what. Yet you find yourself enjoying it, the baritone of his voice, the snippets he shares from his life. Almost like having a friend despite the empty car. 

you don't know what happened. you were on the road. you had just blinked for a second.

Steve is no longer talking.

The alarm of your car screeches. the smell of smoke, dirt, and metal, pungent. Something is digging into your collarbone, your seatbelt. Your sides hurt. 

You’re upside down. 

The pain only gets worse when you try to move. Its blinding. You’re cold and lightheaded. Your eyes weigh heavier and heavier. It was already too dark yet it got darker and darker. God knows how long you are that way before the darkness fully envelops your vision.

...

The first thing you hear is sirens. then its a voice.

“..Can you– Can you hear me?”, you hear it drift in and out. Your ears ring. The sirens– whether its police or an ambulance, you're not sure. It's hard to breathe, hard to see. the back of your neck feels sticky. You feel something drip from the back of your neck to your cheek. 

“Robs, I don't see much of a response”, the man says to his partner. You squint your eyes closed when a blinding light shines, burning your retina– a flashlight.

You groan.

you hear a curse from one of them. “Hey– hey, can you hear me? I need a response, can you–” you nod, barely before another wave of cold hits you. you cant help the shivers that runs through you. You whimper in pain.

you hear the crunch of boots over shards of glass, “Okay, okay. Don't move around too much. We’ll make sure you're alright.”

“shit, that's a lot of blood”, you hear another voice say.

your vision is too dark, too bright. Everything is a blur, the only thing you can see through your tunnel vision is the man in front of you. you look him in his determined eyes, “Am I...", you gasp through the numbing pain, "Will I … die?”

“What– no. no, no", his hair flops as he shakes his head. his voice like a rock in your delirium, you hold on to it. his brown eyes stare at you, trying his best to reassure and calm you down.  "I'll fix this, okay? I’ll fix this.” And the strong willed arch of his brow makes you believe in him. “Think you can get to your belt?” 

You shake your head weakly as you still try to reach for the buckle, the movement eliciting an exhausted wince out of you, “I can't feel… I can't– it hurts…”

“Okay, okay. breath for me, okay? Try your best to. I don't want you to do anything else, okay? Just breathe and– and stay awake. I’ll get you out in just a sec”, though his words reach your ears, you don't really hear them. a ringing settles in your ears.

The darkness starts spreading once again. you're so tired. you just want to sleep. 

“Hey! Hey! Keep your eyes open, keep breathing. Hey! Do you hear me? Hey!”

…

“Hey."

“Hi", the boy looks up from his stack of tapes, his honeyed eyes go wide for just a second before he smiles at you, "how can I help you?”

“I’m…", you start, hands fidgety, drawing circles over the grain of the wooden counter, "I'm not from around here. Been having a bad time recently. Can you recommend any movies to...”

“Cheer you up?” he suggests with raised eyebrows.

a smile spreads across your features, cheeks warm before you nod.

He grins back even wider, features rounding up, “Well, you're in luck”, he says as he leads you to the romcom aisle.

…

The first thing you hear is the beep. beep. beep. of the heart monitor. When you look around you are met with dull walls, white lights, and scratchy sheets.

and then you see her. “mom?” your voice comes out rough, broken and barely there. she hears it regardless. she looks up from the magazine she had been mindlessly reading. her eyes go wide as something close to relief flashes across her face. She leaves the uncomfortable sofa she had been on, rushing to the side of your bed. You feel something in your stomach, its a weird feeling. Crazy as it seems, you think you’ve missed her, a lot. “you found me”, your words aren't exactly excited, they aren't devastated either. they come out monotonous, just stating it as it is.

“Yes, my baby, I did." her fingers are gripped tightly around the side of the bed you're on, "we did”, she adds, glancing at a corner of the room. when you look over, you're met with your sister. she doesn't smile at you like your mother does, she doesn't frown either, just stands by the foot of the bed. barely acknowledging that you're there.

your brows pull together as you feel your mother's fingers grab ahold of your hand. you look back at your mother and all that comes out is, “how?”

“the paramedics that found you, they recognized you from the news", her thumb rubs right above where the iv drip is hooked into you, "Called us immediately after they brought you to the hospital”

“Wh–what happened?” you ask through your husky voice.

“They stitched you up, its gonna scar pretty bad”, it doesn't really answer your question. She's always like this. of course it'll scar. you don't need her to point out how bad and ugly it looks and will look. The weird feeling you had in the pit of your stomach is gone now. “and doctor Henderson is gonna get you better and then we can get you back home”, you go stiff, pulling your hand to yourself and turning onto your side despite the pain that flashes in your bones.

“Honey...”, she starts without continuing, tired hands reaching for your shoulder.

It's like the switch completely flips. Home. that's not your fucking home. “I'm not going back with you. leave." Your voice is cold. you frown like you're a child. you feel like one.

The softness of her features disappear, her brows arch, “y/n, don't make a scene in front of everyone", her voice is clipped as well, not as warm as it had been just a second ago, "you're tired.”

“mom? it's okay,” your sister finally speaks up. her voice is calm, elegant and absolutely fucking annoying. “take a walk. call the doctors on your way back”, 

you refuse to look at your mother as she leaves the room hesitantly, leaving just you and your sister.

“Where's dad?” you ask after a while.

“cafeteria”, she says, nonchalantly plopping herself on the sofa. she picks up a magazine from your mothers bag, she does so like you aren't half dead on the bed in front of her.

"What happened to me?" you question. But the only sound you hear is the machine beside you and turning of a glossy page. You try to turn to face her, but another wave of throbbing pain spreads through you. "Hey”, your voice shakes, “i'm talking to you."

"oh, you're talking to me? sorry, I couldn't tell with the heaps of people in this room."

If you could get up and leave with a huff, you would have. Instead you face away from her. You take a breath in, a pain blooms in your chest. you cough out that breath with a pained grunt.

“hurts? That's 'cause you aren't supposed to be on your side yet. broken bones. guess you're just used to making things worse."

you try to turn back again, but only makes the pain even more blinding. your hands shake, bones weak, the tangled mess of tubes and wires makes you want to fucking cry. tears spring up in your eyes, your heartbeat starts to spike on the machine, the machines scream.

It's like your chest is caving in on itself. Your breathing was rapid, yet you couldn't really breathe, you felt lightheaded, “god, what were you thinking? you really thought we would never find you?”

“Please–”, you call out her name. 

“oh, right, you did it all for attention. guess running away wasn't enough, you just had to crash your car into a tree.”

you gulp. your head buzzes with the lack of oxygen. “fuck you”, that’s the last you manage to get out as you feel your lungs collapse in on themselves. The machines beside you start beeping even more wildly. You feel your chest move up and down restlessly trying to get some oxygen but soon blackness overtakes your vision. 

It becomes just blackness. It's like you're underwater. You still hear the beeping. You hear voices, ones that don't belong to your sister, your mother or father.

…

“Wanna get out of here with me?”

He stops mid-chew of his cheeseburger for a second before he swallows it down and quips while gesturing around you with a fry, “The diner not your scene?”

“No– I mean, do you want to leave this town with me?”

your breakfast sandwich lays unattended in front of you. He says your name but he doesn't say anything after.

“You hate it here, Steve. Don't you want to start something new," your fingers reach for his, asking for his hand, you look at him expectedly, "with me?”

he looks down at his hands, licking his lips, brows pulled slightly together. you can tell he is trying to find an answer, you just hope to whatever higher power there is that he says yes.

you feel his fingers intertwine with yours and then tighten. He looks up at you with nothing but pure devotion in his eyes, like he'll follow you anywhere, “...where would we go?”

…

There's that beeping again.

You’re in a different room now. you hear people moving around you, talking amongst themselves. Voices you don’t recognise. “I don't know you”, you croak out, looking at the two people who have white coats on.

both their heads snap towards you. The woman with curly red hair walks up to your bedside with a smile, “you do now, I'm Dr Maxine Henderson, in charge of your case.”

“I’m Dr. Lucas Harrington", the man says as he adjusts the drip of your iv before he looks at you, "how're you feeling?’

“doped out”, you say through a smirk.

“might have something to do with all the drugs we gave you.", dr. Harrington jokes before he questions, "how's the pain?”

“mostly dull.”

their brows furrow. “but still there?” Dr. Henderson asks.

“Mhm", your throat hurts like hell, the more you talk-- pain finally catching up to you, "more on the left side.”

“Well, not enough drugs, I guess”, the man quips before he gets a new vial from the cabinet and a sterile syringe.

“what happened?” the question leaves your lips without you even realising. you were with Steve. you were supposed to leave with steve.

“what, the first time or the second time?” the woman asks as the man taps the syringe to get rid of any air bubbles.

Your brows pull together, “um, both?”

“you got in an accident. you were there for a while before the paramedics got to you.", she explains as she looks over a pad-- what you assume is your medical file. "hit your head pretty hard, lot of blood in your brain”

“Wait, blood isn't supposed to be in there?”

“I was surprised too when I found out in med school. turns out its supposed to be in your veins."

"semantics", you mumble.

she chuckles to herself before her eyes start skimming over the details of your file again-- her smile falling as she tells you everything. "You broke a rib and your clavicle. the trauma was pretty bad, you came here with your brains practically spilling out. your spine got messed up as well.”

Dr. Harrington moves to inject the syringe into the iv cannula. pain erupts in the vein when he pushes the medicine in, eyes screwing shut as you wince out loud, "great.” he rubs gently at the vein. The warmth soothes away the pain for the most part. you whisper out a thank you to him, he flashes you a small smile.

“After that when you woke up here, your lungs almost collapsed." Dr. Henderson continues, "went hypoxic for a while. we had to work on your brain in the surgery, the intracerebral haemorrhage was bad. worse than before. mostly affected the temporal lobe and the brain stem–”

“big words”, you croak out with a smile and droopy eyes.

“Too nerdy, isn't she?” The two of them share a smirk like it's an inside joke. He looks at her how Steve looks at you, all adoring.

You blink, eyes a little less sleepy, “... where–where's Steve?”

her brows furrow, “um, Steve?” Dr. Henderson gets another look at your file. her features morph into that of confusion, “your family–”

“My family isn't here." you immediately say, "I need Steve, can you call him?”

“.. there's no– I don't see a Steve here. your family is–”

you push up onto your elbow despite the pain, despite the fact the iv tube and the catheter attached pulls. “I need Steve!”

Dr. Harrington tries to push your shoulder to hold you back down, “Can you give us a full name?”

“Steve…", you rack your brain for a last name. nothing. you look at the other doctor in desperation before you repeat again, "Steve!"

"ok, y/n I need you to calm down– you're going to have another seizure."

your vision blurs. the grating sound of the machines, the bright lights, the people shouting at you-- it all mixes into a cacophony of unbearable stimulation. "I need Steve!”

it's the last thing you say before pain consumes you. It hurts so damn much. then it doesn't. it fades. all of it. then it's all nothing.

…

“Is there anything you can do?” Steve is tired. The doctors most definitely see it too. It probably emanates from him at this point. The pitiful boy with a dying partner who cant seem to catch a break.

“The damage is pretty bad. We did all we could with the surgery, Mr. Harrington. Its highly risky doing it again, and we aren’t even sure it’ll do any good at all. We’ve sedated the patient for now but once it wears off…”

“It’ll result in another seizure”, the other doctor chimes in.

“So”, Steve gulps, “there’s nothing?”

“There is…” the doctor shares a look with the other before looking back at Steve, “one option.”

“What?”

“Medically induced coma. it'll give the brain time to rest and maybe regenerate–”

“Okay.” it comes out immediately. Anything. He’ll do anything to have you back.

“Sir, I need you to know that the odds of this working are… low.” the other doctor who had been quiet, warns.

“So you're just taking a chance?”

He nods, “our only chance.”

…

Steve was both glad and loathing of the heart monitor. On one hand, it meant that you were alive, that your heart was still beating despite your still body. On the other, it was all there was of you now. All he heard of you for the past six months was the beep beep beep of the heart monitor. All he saw of you was when your eyes would move a little sometimes under your lids. All he felt from you was your faint pulse under his fingers.

He missed your voice, your laugh. He missed your eyes, your smile, the way that you look at him. He missed your touch, your kisses, the way you brush aside his messy strands.

And right now sitting on the chair beside you, wearing your perfume, he waits for you to wake up– like he has done for months now. You have to wake up. You have to. He can’t think of what he would do if you don’t– no. you will wake up. 

Its been months. The doctors seem to have given up for the most part, the nurses send him pitying eyes– he hates them all. 

With your hand in his, he clips your nails– he had never stopped to wonder before if people in comatose grew their hair and nails, surprisingly, they did. When he is done, he uses a moisturiser on your skin, it looked so dry lately. He does so gently, the skin felt so thin like it would tear if he pulled too hard. Your hands felt so light in his, so fragile, so…. lifeless. He tried his best to avoid the IV in your hand, the wire that was attached to the heart monitor, the tubes that helped your breathe. 

He moves aside the wisps of hair on your cheeks. Rubbing the skin there, he gulps, fingers reaching for yours, rubbing over your knuckles. 

When they first put you into coma, when the doctors were hopeful, they’d tell him to talk to you, that you could possibly hear everything. that it could bring you back.

“y/n…. honey, I miss you so much. everything is at a standstill. I just need you, honey. the doctors are very hopeful though," he lies. they aren't. They haven’t been for a long while. You aren’t getting better. But then again, you aren’t getting worse either. "They say any moment now, you're gonna get up and kiss me stupid", his face is overcome with a mixture of grief and nostalgia, a heartbroken smile.

It's so damn silent.

His ‘smile’ crumbles, "honey, please. I– I just miss you too damn much." he laments.

He stays that way, like he is everyday– sobbing silently, waiting on some sort of miracle. After a while, he finally sniffles, wiping his tear-stained cheeks and red nose, "I'm gonna bring us some of that shitty coffee and... should i go for the sandwich or bagel?" He kisses your knuckles and pauses as if you’ll actually answer back.

"... you're right like always”, he smiles again as if you’ve said something, as if there was a sound other than the machines by your bed, “breakfast sandwich it is."

He is almost out the door when he hears your voice, “Steve...”, it comes out barely audible but he hears it anyway. At first he thinks it's his mind playing tricks on him, he's officially gone insane. but he turns around anyway and there he finds you, weak, fragile but awake.

“honey? y-you're awake. I– I'll call the doctor–”

“No, steve”, you hold your hand up for him to take, “I’m sorry. I need to tell you something”

“Don’t move around too much. You need a doctor y/n–”

“I just need you Steve please, honey”, he finally takes your hand in his and finds that he's shaking. “Listen to me Steve. Please. I can't stay here forever. they're working quick."

"they? who's they?"

“Steve, what I'm about– about to tell you is… it's very important. I know I never told you much about my life before hawkins–”, the heart monitor's beeps start spiking.

“Hey, slow down–”

“I don’t have the time. Listen– I don't remember much after I left my parents house. I just remember leaving. And then….. The next thing I remember is you. I don't know how I–" your voice cracks, you pause to take a couple deep breaths in, "I don't know how… it happened. But you were there. And you were perfect and all I needed." your chest rises and falls wildly, you don't even take a second to wince in pain, “It took me a while to figure it out. I’ve hid things. I have been selfish. I’ve lied to you a lot, Steve. I– I can't anymore.”

"i dont understand..."

"this isn't real." you gulp, "none of this is."

"wha– of course its real, I'm right here"

"you aren't real, Steve. none of this is", you repeat again, as it will make sense suddenly. "I'm dying."

"you're not going to die–"

"no, honey. out there, I'm dying. they've kept me asleep so I don't. but they're going to wake me again. and I don't- I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to come back to you. I'm sorry. But you–”, your voice cracks again, your lip quivers, eyes red and glassy, “You can have your own life now. Anything you want– you can do whatever you want to do.”

“I– I’m calling the doctors.”

“Steve… I just want you to know– I love you, honey. More than anything. More than anyone, than the entire world.”

“Just hold on ok? Just breathe okay?” he tells you as he rushes to get ahold of any doctors or nurses. By the time he comes back, you're already gone.

…

Your mother cried when you woke up.  

You’re getting better. That's what the doctors say. They’re all happy. Everyday they tell you family with a smile that you’re getting better. That they only need to monitor you for just a week or two more before they discharge you.

You lied. When they asked you who Steve was and why you had been asking for him. you told them you don't remember. but you do remember.

You miss him.

You miss him in the calls for dr. Harrington. You miss him when you saw the paramedic that saved you passing by. You miss him when you turn on the radio. Steve, the real Steve, the Steve who is a radio host.

But they’re not your steve. Your steve.

you're sitting up on the side of your bed, phone in hand. Now that you're doing better, most of your family is at home, it was your sister's turn to stay the night and she was down in the cafeteria or maybe she's somewhere else, not that you cared.

After being kept on hold for a while, you finally hear his voice, “Hello, this is Steve, what’s your name?” his tone is all chipper and professional like it always is on these calls.

“I’m…", you swallow, "I'm y/n l/n.”

“Thanks for calling in, y/n, anything you want to share with us before we take your request?”

“Uh, yeah. I– I just wanted you to know that your show…", you trail off for a second, trying to blink away the sting in your eyes, "it means a lot to me, your show.” your voice is quiet, still hoarse, you don't really talk a lot to anyone. “I love… your show”, you can't help the shaky smile that grows on your features.

The line is silent for a while, you doubt he's heard such sincerity on these calls, most of the times it's just fun jokes and small talk. “Oh… well, thank you so much. I… I really appreciate that. If I can provide any type of solace or comfort– that's… that's my goal, always. So– uh, sorry…", he clears his throat. you imagine its your Steve on the other side of the call. a twinge settles in your chest, "um what is your song request y/n?”

You don’t know why you hang up then. If anything, you wanted to hear him more. 

you turn on the radio, “--lost the connection with y/n. But I really did appreciate that so much. y/n, if you call us again, I’d love to take your request. Let's– uh… let's move on to the next caller...”

The phone stays in your hand. Half of the numbers dialed already. You don’t move to add the rest. It isn’t him. He isn’t your Steve. You let out a shuddered breath as put you the phone down.

He’s not real. How can he not be real? If he isn’t real then why does he feel more real than anyone else in your life?

The back of your neck hurts, your stitches pull when you lie back down on your bed. and when you fall asleep, you wish to see Steve in your dreams.

…

You were gone. You had told Steve everything, you told him that you made him, that he never was real, that there is no Hawkins. 

You can have your own life. 

How could you have said that? You created him, didnt you know that you were his life? You were his purpose. He was made for loving you. He loves you like he was made for it… because he was.

The apartment is quiet, no heartbeat, no heart monitor. He feels empty, hollow. He needs you to hold him, he needs to put his head on your chest so he could hear your heartbeat.The silence is grating, it eats at him. It's unbearable, insufferable. All he has is your lingering scent on the pillows and the sheets. He holds your pillow at night. But sleep never comes. He doesn't sleep. He doesnt wake up. He doesn't go to work. 

Anything you want.

He just wants you. Despite everything, he just wants you. Just you.

he'll fix you. He'll bring you back. 

He isn’t sure when he succumbs to sleep, but he does remember his last thought before he does so. He will fix this. He will fix everything.

he falls asleep with tired red rimmed eyes. and when he wakes up, you're there. and you kiss him the way that he loves, the way that makes him forget. and he forgot. He forgot, but he had you. so it didn't fucking matter.

…

You are at work, whatever that is– Steve for the life of him can’t remember.

He has his day off and is keeping his promise– he has already fixed the phone, atleast he hopes he has. He has no idea how he would do it though. 

Now, he is cleaning. He is already done with the bedroom and living room. He had left the dreaded kitchen for last. 

He puts away yesterday's groceries in their respective places. Its all a little bleak. After everything that happened last time, he has made it a point to timely go to grocery shopping. Technically, you don’t really need it. Technically, you’re not real, neither is the food. Neither is anything he has ever experienced.

You are all he has experienced. And he is fine with that. He is more than fine with that. You are all he needs. 

He is wiping the kitchen counter when his toe catches on something. When he looks down, its the floorboard, he tripped over the previous night. The wood pokes up at the corner. 

That’s where his head had been.

The dread creeps up his spine. 

He can't tell you. It's for your own good. 

his jaw tightens. What's this rationalization anyway? Fuck this. you're happy. here with him. He is all you need.  

The floorboard that sticks up mocks him. He is supposed to be all you need. 

He stomps his foot over the corner of the wood. It hurts more than he expected. It doesn't budge. He can't let you notice. He stomps at it again. Pain flashes in his heel. Why the fuck does he feel pain? How can he feel pain if he isn't fucking real? The wood stays the same. 

His nostrils flare. He moves away with a heavy stride to get his toolbox. The same toolbox he used to make sure you don't get any more ‘prank calls’. You can't know. He can't let you know. You're happy here. 

You're supposed to be happy here. You're supposed to be here. You're his person. You're his purpose. 

and just with a final heavy hit of the hammer, the corner of the plank settles into its place. and though it doesn't stick out anymore, it's far from smooth. It's definitely noticeable.

he can't let you notice. He can't let you leave.

the nagging thought embeds itself in him. what if you want to leave?

…

You’re kissing him.

He feels lightheaded in the best way possible. Because you have your one hand buried in his hair and the other starting to rub at the bumps on the nape of his neck. Right where he needs you.

God, he's finally going to forget. Everything is going to be normal now.

"th-thank you, honey”, a sigh of relief leaves him as you deepen the kiss. Your teeth scrape over the soft of his bottom lip. His arms tighten around you as he kisses you back, "thank you so much."

“Steve”, you almost whimper out and it makes him go deeper and harder. "Steve?” it's your tone the second time, one that didn’t sound so much of pleasure, that's what makes him slow down and pull away a little. When he looks at your face a pit settles in his stomach because you look absolutely terrified as you look at him with wide eyes. He feels you pulling away from his hold and he isn’t sure why, but he feels the back of his eyes start to sting. “Steve!--" when you are out of his arms, you look down at your hands which are painted a deep dark red. his breaths are too loud, his thoughts are too loud, it's all too much and you look at him so scared, "Steve, what is happening?" you ask with horror in your eyes.

That terror in your eyes is the last thing he sees before his eyes open. He finds himself sitting upright in bed with his chest heaving. He runs a hand over his face and through his hair as he tries to calm his breathing.

When he looks over, hoping to find you cozy and fast asleep under the shared blanket, he instead finds your eyes looking back at him, sitting with your back against the headboard..

"Why–” he clears his throat, “why are you awake?'

you pick at the skin around your nails, "couldn't sleep..."

“do you want to–"

"no." You shut him down immediately, eyes still on your hands. It takes you a while before you look back up at him. "You had a nightmare”, it isn’t really a question.

"It was nothing. I'm okay.”

“Steve…”, he knows that tone, he knows you'll ask him if he wants to tell you about it. he doesn't. he fucking doesn't.

“Can we go back to sleep?"

you both look at each other. there's something in the air, something so thick. but something neither of you want to address. “Of course.”

…

The next morning is your day off. 

you aren't sure what to make of your dream from last night. you aren't sure why you didn't tell Steve. you aren't sure what there even is to tell. Hey, honey, I had a dream where I got a call on the phone and when I picked it up it sounded like people arguing over god knows what. they all sounded familiar to you. they're the same voices you always hear in your dreams.

you're making your breakfast when your gaze lands on the floorboard by the kitchen counter. one of the panels is caved in and discolored a little around the corner. when you step on it, it creaks.

something in you shouts at you to inspect closer.

The rest of the day is spent with mostly you trying to silence that voice in your head that keeps telling you to rip apart the floors.

...

When Steve gets back at 7:08 p.m., he finds you on the floor with tools around you.

“Honey? wh-what are you–”, he doesn't bother to take his shoes off or his jacket when he sees the blood on your hands, “are you hurt?”

“No, it's the floor–”

He doesn't even hear what you're saying, 'cause there's just so much blood. “of course you're hurt; look at all this blood, I've gotta clean you up–”

“Steve", it makes him look up at your face and he finds your brows furrowed, "what blood?” When he looks back down at where his hands hold yours. your hands are clean and untainted. no blood. "Steve?"

"What the fuck were you doing?" he himself doesn’t expect the harsh words that leave him.

"Excuse me?"

“it's like you're being intentionally fucking stupid.”

“Steve–” if he would’ve stopped for even a fraction of a second he would’ve noticed the rage creeping up your neck.

“If there was something wrong then why the hell did you not wait for me? It's my job. I'm supposed to fix everything. why can't you listen to me FOR ONCE."

“don't. shout. at me.” you warn, holding up a finger. but he's all anger. you were so close to knowing. you can't know.

“... go to the bedroom.” he can't let you know. you're happy here.

you shake your head once with your nostrils flared before stomping towards the apartment door.

“Honey", you start putting your shoes on. and he regrets it, of course he regrets it. but he can't let you leave. “Honey. I didn't–”

“didn't mean it? I know. I know you didn't mean it and you're so sorry and that it's because of stress." your other shoe is on, and your grasp tight around the door knob, "stress about God knows what, cause you sure as hell don't tell me about it!”

“y/n–"

“What is going on with you”, you finally turn to look him in the eyes. In that moment, Steve almost crumbles down into a heap infront of you to beg for your forgiveness. To beg for you to stay. to beg for you to punish however you deem fit but not leave him.

“nothing–”

“from the last–I don't know–month or two, you've just been so out of it. it's like I'm talking to a wall and you're in your own head, and when you're not doing that, you're lashing out on me." you frown at him but your palm finds its place on his cheek anyway. "just tell me what's going on with you.”

He can't tell you. He pulls your hand down, ignoring the burning in his throat, “nothing. nothing is going on.”

you swallow, looking down at where your hands intertwine, “what's under those floorboards?”

“nothing.”

“Stop lying, Steve”

“I'm being honest. it's nothing.”

“no you're not,” you look up at him and he just knows you can see right through him. 

“You… you don't wanna know. trust me.”

“I do. I want to know. tell me.”

“you don't– you don't mean that.”

“I mean it Steve. I want to know”

he nods. his palm rises, thumb finding its place on your cheek. you can't know. he is sorry. he is so fucking sorry. And he will repent and pay his punishment but he can't fucking let you know. he leans in. He just has to make you forget. But just when your lips are about to touch, you turn away. He can't help but beg, “honey, please. just–”

“No. Tell me what's under there Steve.”

he isn't sure how, but looking you in your eyes convinces him. you want to know. He could never lie to you. He’ll do whatever you ask him to. He would lie, beg, steal and kill for you. And if you just asked, he’d tell you the truth, “okay, I'll tell you”, he gives in and he means it.

He leads you to where he had found you earlier by the kitchen counter. He picks up a hammer. He steals a glance at you. This could be the last time he does it. he is going to lose you. He couldn't fix this.

He sticks the hammerhead's claw into the dented corner of the floorboard. with a grunt, he pulls at it. the wood splinters as he pulls it out.

and there it is.

the files. the pictures. the maps.

“What's all this? what does this mean?”

“'re you still sure you wanna know?”

You nod and he tells you. He tells you everything. from the beginning. to now. the end.

And you listen. and as he tells you, he can see the memories slowly coming back to you as shiny tears pool your eyes– threatening to fall.

fuck, he's going to lose you.

"How come I don't remember anything?" When he is done explaining, you finally question with red, wide eyes.

He walks closer, fingers barely brushing behind your ear and over your cheek. over the raised skin, “you feel that?” You curl a smidge into his warmth without even thinking as you nod. “These bumps... I have ‘em too." he gestures to the back of his neck, "they make you forget.”

“Forget? forget what?”

“everything. they're why you don't remember”, he pulls his hand back to himself. "But you remember now, don't you?"

you nod as a tear finally runs down your cheek, leaving a wet trail behind. He has lost you.

"I'm not going to take the choice away from you. it's up to you." he blinks to get rid of the tears that blind his vision. He instead lets them roll down his face. He doesn't care if he looks like a pathetic mess, he just wants to see as much of you as he can, for as long as he can. " If you want to leave, you can", he swallows the rest of his oncoming tears as he continues, "but just– kiss me one last time before you go? just make me forget it all, please."

you walk a step closer to him. He feels your warm hands nestle his face and he can't help but lean in one last time. "Thank you", he lets out shakily as your thumb rubs over his cheekbone.

He is waiting for you to connect your lips to his when he feels your other hand reach for his. He watches dumbfounded as you place his palm on your own face, "what're you doing?"

"Nothing", you smile, all adoring and lovesick, "just loving on you."

"What?"

“it's okay, honey", you reassure him as you feel his hand find its place like puzzle pieces. or magnets. it just fit. like you were made for each other, because you were.

you remember now.

You had run away. You had left all ifs and buts. All uncertainties. You live with your one certain now, Steve. Your Steve.

“You know why I made you?” you say, lashes clumped together. and through them you looked at Steve as if he hung the stars. “because I hated the world. Hated everyone in it. I wanted it to burn. I left it for you. then why the hell would I ever leave the one thing I ever loved for a world that doesn't care?”

Steve is stunned. He didn't lose you. and you're still here and looking at him like you have all the time in the world. and maybe, you do.

"Please, just kiss me?" you blink away the last of your tears as you ask so sweetly. and who is he to deny you. He could never deny you.

When he leans in, so do you. and your hands are in their place, and his are in theirs. and it all just fits. it's all just perfect. his lips meet yours. it all feels like his first memory. slow then deep. a dance you'd done a million times, a dance you'll do a billion times.

you're his person.

and when you both pull away and look at each other, it's all adoring smiles. It's all love.

"So, what're we making for dinner?"

...

[lit3rallyll0yd]

R we all getting back into ninjago all of a sudden lolol ? I saw ur post asking for requests and was wondering if you could write something abt Cole (or any of the other ninjas idc!!) reacting to his gf baking him something ?? If u don’t like the idea then maybe something abt them baking together ! (ᵔᗜᵔ) 🍰

life is sweeter with you: cole x female!reader !!

uhmuhmuhn i kinda messed this up because i made the reader and cole CONFESS their love for each other instead of already being in love...i hope that's okay!! : [

readers pronouns: she/her, but they are barely used.

relationship: crushing to dating

a/n: this is unnecessarily too long for no reason...also this isn't proof read, sorry for any spelling mistakes! ending was rushed

"what are you doing?"

you hummed at the question asked to you from the blue ninja, who was seated at the table in the kitchen. he watched as you carefully dumped a cup of flour into the mixer.

"baking a cake for co-me!!." you stated bluntly── thinking the question jay had asked you was stupid. "what does it look like im doing?"

jay poked the inside of his cheek with his tounge, his eyes squinting at you; "since did you bake?"

he, along with the rest of the ninja, have known you for a while, and a while since the tournament of elements. man, that was a time. they would have never met you, cole never would have met you if it wasn't for master chen's invitation.

you don't understand why your heart beats faster when you're around him. sure you've had crushes before, but they were old middle school crushes! you guess it's because you're growing up, you understand your feelings more? you weren't fully sure. what you did know for sure was you were head over heels for the master of earth!

you tried many ways to get cole to notice you. you tried harder in training exercises, you tried different styles; which only led to him complimenting you instead of getting closer than you want him to be.

until it hit you.

what's one thing cole loves? his friends?

.

okay what are two things cole loves?

of course! how can you be so dumb?? it's cake! his mother used to bake him cakes ever since he was little. he loves them! what's one way to get closer to him than through what he loves, baked goods!?

you turned on the mixer after mixing in the eggs and placed your hands on your hips, turning on your heel to face the lighting ninja.

"uh, since now?"

he scoffed at your response; "i've never seen you near an oven, y/n── do you even know the first step of baking?"

you gave the brown haired boy a confused look, "and you do? last time you were in the kitchen you set the stove on fire and burned our entire dinner! you can't be talking!"

jay mimicked you silently, crossing his arms thinking of another comeback.

he grinned suddenly; "i'm gonna tell cole you like him!"

you whip your head back at the boy as you turn off the mixture, ready to pour it into the cake pan until he says that. "walker, don't you dare! i've had this whole thing planned out!!"

the blue ninja slams his hand on the wooden table and laughs;

"AHA! so you do like him!"

oh. oh, you dug right into that one. curse jay and being a master at forcing the truth out of people unknowingly. you rolled your eyes, pouring the cake mix into the pan.

"so what if i do? it's not like he likes me back..." you went quiet for a brief moment before you smiled softly, opening the oven and gently putting the pan on the hot rack.

"but..but this is the last thing i can do..to get him to notice me, i mean? i know he likes cake, so this is the perfect idea!"

jay didn't hear what you hear at the end, and as you kept rambling he cocked an eyebrow up.

did cole lie to him just to get him to shut up?

──flashback a couple days ago── 🩷🍰

"cole..cole...cole.. boulder brain......cooollllleeee." jay whispered softly in coles ear, who was sitting peacefully on the couch playing prome empire but of course, jay out of all people just had to be bored out of his mind now and he was the only at the monestary.

why did everyone else had to be gone; like out of all days!

"JAY!" cole shouts, glaring daggers at the blue ninja who giggled at his reaction. "you didn't answer my question~" the ninja in blue sang, wiggling his eyebrows.

cole's eyes rolled back to the TV screen, a small blush formed on his cheeks but he hid it behind his tone of voice; "what are you even talking about?"

jay frowns, taking a seat beside his best friend and nudged his arm; "you know damn well, dude! do you have a crush on y/n or not?!"

cole fact did hear what jay asked him before, he just didn't have the guts to tell him how he truly felt about them.

he sighed, fingers tapping rapidly against the game controls.

"why do you care so much?"

"I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND! you have to tell me these things, man!" he shook his arm, causing his chapter to get shot and die. he grunts out of anger, and pushes jay away and pouts.

"ah, thanks jay! now i lost my streak!"

jay rolled his eyes, "you can easily get it back! now answer me, brookstone!"

cole groaned, already sick and tired of jay.

"yes, yes i like her! you know what, I LOVE HER, okay? now── im gonna take a nap..."

──

"are you even listening to me?" you stopped talking noticing jay had zoned out. "huh?" he shook his head out of his trance hearing your voice.

you pout, "nothing. it doesn't matter! the cake will be done in 30mins── call me when the stove beeps, kay?" you handed a towel as you walked past him slowly; making your way somewhere. jay assumes your bedroom.

he watches you leave the kitchen with a frown on his face. you liked cole back? of course, how can he be so blind? all you were ever doing was just trying to get cole to see you the way you see him!

HE KNEW IT!

he decided to sit on the table and glare at the cake through the oven window, watching it and the small timer tick down ever so slowly.

──30mins later──

"uhm. jay?" a certain black haired ninjas voice made jay jump and look to the entrance to see his friend, cole. "COLE!" he grinned; pushing his chair away from the stove he sat on the table and smiled at him.

"what── what were you doing?" cole asked until he thought about it, "you know what, i don't think it's my business. have you seen my game controller? kai borrowed while zane repairs his own, but he lost it..." cole silently curses kai as he regrets giving the controller to the red ninja who can't even find his clothes have the time in the morning.

jay pucks his lips as he shook his head. "nope! but i have an idea── i'll get kai and i to look for your controller.." he stood up quickly, suddenly spawning behind cole who jumped slightly.

jay started to push him toward the oven and sat him down on the chair he previously sat at. "can you take this cake out of the oven for? i was told it was for you anyways, so..."

as jay walked away, cole blinked a couple times in confusion.

"wait── who made me?-"

"love you bro, byyeeeee!!" and the blue ninja was gone. cole sat in front of the oven confused and squints through the mirror.

the cake seemed to have puffed and turn a bit black around the edges. it was burning. he panicked and grabbed the oven mit close to the oven and took the cake...placing the pan gently on the stove top.

turning off the oven, he was instantly for the scent of the cake. chocolate cake. his favorite!

he assumed at first zane made this cake, for tonight's dessert. until he remembered jay was here. no offense to jay, but Zane would never leave jay alone by a stove while it's on AND u supervised.

he didn't know anyone else who baked, as far as he knew of. maybe it you or nya....he blinked at the thought of the cake being made by you...but jay said it was for him.

could he have just been saying that?

as much as he wanted the answers, all this thinking was making his stomach rumble.

──

"damn you, jay!" you stomped along the halls of the monestary toward the kitchen, cursing jay for not getting you when you had asked him too.

he probably forgot and ended up playing video games or something. you swore, the next time you say him you were going to give him a piece of──

you stopped in your tracks to see none other than cole sitting at the kitchen table...munching on the cake you have told jay to keep an eye on for you.

you blinked a couple of times, not realizing cole had greeted you with a "hey, y/n!" and a heart-warming smile. he looked at you then back at the cake; "was-was this yours?"

"NO! i mean- yeah, but..it wasn't for me!"

cole pieces the two together, noticing you play with the hem of your ninja gi. you smilie softly, leaning back in his seat── "so you were the one who left jay alone by a oven that was on?"

you rolled your eyes, "well- i gave him one job and that was to let me know when the timer beeped! learned the lesson.."

there was a second of silence before cole offered you to sit with him.

slowly you made your way to him, sitting beside him as he handed you a fork. upon taking it, you blushed. he took another bite of the cake, "why didn't you tell me you knew'd how to bake?"

you took a second to respond, "i learned for you."

"for me?"

you nod, your cheeks flushed pink as you fiddled with the fork.

he took another bite of the cake, "you should try it. you did a great job. here."

you felt a tap on your shoulder and looking back you saw him hold his fork up to your mouth.

you shut your lips tight and looked at your own fork. he blushed before stuttering, "oh- right. sorry, here-" he took your fork and took a small bite of cake from the actual pan and held it back to your mouth as previous.

you slowly opened your mouth as he fed you the cake you made. you had to admit, it wasn't actually that bad for the first time. you can thank zane for the recipe book he gifted you.

your eyes lit up, "man, that..that's actually really good!"

he nods smiling, "you should bake more often!"

you shrugged a laugh, "i mean..if-if you want me to! i can try to bake cupcakes next time!"

he laughed and places the forks down on the napkin beside his hand; "sounds like a date!"

you blushed. "what?"

cole suddenly blushed, pulling his hand away from your hand that was slowly leaning close to your own.

"i-mean..sounds fun! if-if you want, can i join next time? you-can uh- teach me a couple of things or two?"

"uhm. yeah-yeah, of course!!"

.

you both were quiet for the next couple of moments before you opened your mouth to speak again, "cole..." he hummed in response, taking another bite of the cake.

"listen. i'm...not really sure what i'm saying, but i know how i feel."

cole pauses, listening to what you have say.

"── your a really nice guy! your funny, strong, open minded- and you care for people a lot! i can't help but feel more happy around you- does that make sense? i don't know how to put this without it sounding weird- but....i like you, cole! the only reason i baked this cake was because i was hoping you felt the same way! i wa t to be your girlfriend, cole, and-and i get it if you don't like me back and want to continue to be friends──"

"i like you too.."

"── i have problem being friends with you if it means we can still-"

you cut yourself off...hearing his words over your own suddenly.

you looked back at the ninja who locked eyes with you. you blushed, taking the fork off the table and took another large bite of the cake.

cole chuckled, seeing the crumbs fall from your mouth and to your lap.

your eyes go back from him and the table as you spoke with a mouth full of cake, "does this mean we-i mean do you want to- are we?"

cole takes the napkin and wipes the crumbs off your mouth as he smiled at you, "i would love to, y/n."

you felt your eyes sparkle and gleam, another soft smile formed on his face; "you still want to go on that cupcake date, sweetheart?"

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hey could you do nsfw thing for Jon Snow? Literally anything will do. Go wild with it. I just haven’t seen many sub imagines or whatnot with him and I HAVE BEEN CRAVING READING SOME!! I’m a huge fan of HOTD and I’m beginning to get into GOT, and since ur blog is the first one I’ve stumbled across that doesn’t do incest, has amazing writing, and only does sub content for HOTD and GOT boys, this is why I ask. Also HUGE FAN OF UR CONTENT!!!!

Also quick question: Do you do m!character x m!reader? U obviously don’t have to do it for this ask if u don’t want to I’m just wondering lol.

Hi hello anon! I have absolutely no idea if you're even still following this blog but I figured even if you arent there will still be someone who will enjoy this. I would love to be writing more for game of thrones characters (currently rewatching the show actually) so I think this will be a great start.

As for your question about male!reader, I certainly could! My default tends to be gender neutral for the reader unless the ask specifies a gender or the ask involves pronouns or anatomy that assigns the reader a gender. So if you ask for male!reader specifically then I could do that! Though again I do usually default to gender neutral. I've also considered maybe including a gender tag in all my asks so you lads can easily search or block content with a certain gender of the reader. If that's something you'd like then let me know!

Anyway, I'm gonna do some sub!Jon headcannons, some NSFW and some SFW so to be safe I'll put them all under the cut. Enjoy!

firstly, he's the ultimate good boy, the goodest boy of all good boys. He will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he's even mildly inconvenienced you.

He's gone his entire life never being good enough, never being noticed or acknowledged so when he finds someone who not only notices him but loves him? Oh now you've got a shadow following you around.

I think maybe he really loves being called something other than Jon, especially in the bedroom. Jon Snow is a bastard's name, and sure he's warmed up to it, but calling him darling or love or anything of the sort makes him far happier.

perhaps even calling him Jon followed by your surname rather than snow.

his absolute favourite is giving head. He loves it. If you tell him he's been so good that he can choose, 9/10 he'll choose that.

he's also a big fan of giving him prolonged challenges? Like edging him for a few days before he's allowed to cum. He likes testing himself like that, likes reporting back to you how the day felt.

he always imagined himself as a service sub, doing whatever you ask and feeling satisfied knowing he's good, and while yes he certainly does enjoy that, it's you doing things for him that really makes him lose it.

You realise this very quickly and from then you just can't stop spoiling him. How could you not? He gets all weepy and desperate every time you wash his hair or make him dinner or read to him.

he also loves being felt up? Like when you see him writing a letter and you come up behind him, giving him a little squeeze and rubbing his thigh. It's one of his favourite things.

he's also VERY protective over you, even though he's the sub.

loses the ability to speak the moment he gets turned on, and so naturally you love asking him to tell you what he wants when you know damn well he can barley think.

honestly might be even be into a bit of dumbnification? In that he has so much responsibility on him all the time, so when he gets to be alone with you he just wants to turn his mind off, so when you bring him close and tell him that now he mustn't think, mustn't speak, just let you do it all, he adores it.

[anzuhan]

May I ask why u speak in third person?? It’s adorable and I love u and ur art but it confuses me! (Sorry if this is too personal to ask online, feel free to delete/not answer this ask!)

its fine to talk about it dont worry ! sorry that its confusing ( ´_ゝ`)

anzu prefers to not use pronouns. can also speak without using third person but do prefer using it as well at times because its fun ☆ミ <- but this is the general jist of it. anzu just prefers speaking this way, its not regarding gender or anything else either.

if its hard to do for others, dont mind others using pronouns when referring to anzu !

[hobie-enthusiast]

I really love how you write!! I was wondering if you could so smth with hobie x autistic + sunshine!reader? I'm autistic, and i've constantly been belittled for it so it'd mean a lot to see my biggest cc with an autistic reader!! If you're worried about how to approach it maybe you could do smth like reader using noise canceling headphones? or like comforting when reader had an autistic meltdown?? Ofc these are just ideas, whatever you wna do!! Also don't fret if you don't want to do this request, just wanted to ask !!! ^w^

Oh and gender neutral with they/them pronouns please!! 🫶

- 🎀 anonymous

(Emoji signoffs are so cute!! hoping you don't mind me adding one !!!)

QUIET AND EASE !

— hobie brown x energetic!autistic!gn!reader

— fluff and comfort, autistic meltdown, noise canceling headphones, petnames (sweetheart, love), hobie’s worried and nervous, sensory overload, breakdowns due to loud noises, almost panic attacks

— time with your friends was always nice, but sometimes it got to be too much, and hobie is always there to help

— ill do u one better anon how about incorporating both 🫶 also ofc you can have an emoji! thank u for ur support!

— official disclaimer: the following fic and reader experience is based on my experience and also other aspects i have read up on. every autistic person is different, and they won’t all have this exact reaction when it comes to a meltdown. so pls keep that in mind when reading :) if anything seems wrong please feel free to tell me!

Everything was so so loud.

The two of you agreed two have friends over, a small hangout. It had been a while since everyone had hung out, so Hobie suggested hosting them. You agreed, wanting to see everyone again after a while.

You welcomed everyone excitedly, wanting to show off your place. “Hey guys! Come on in, let me give you a tour!”

You dragged them all around the apartment, pointing out various things that maybe they didn’t notice. Your favourites; some hanging pictures, pieces, and collectables.

The other owner of the place, Hobie, couldn’t help but smile a bit at your excited nature. That’s just how you were, naturally excited about your interests. He encouraged that, loving the way you seem to know so much about these types of things.

After a tour and explanations you so graciously provided, you ushered everyone to grab some dinner or snacks. You had some entertainment planned out, so you and Hobie let everyone decide what they wanted to do. It was a nice time, and you enjoyed your friend’s company.

But soon, they just got too rowdy for your liking. It was about a couple hours into get-together and Miles and Pavitr decided it would be a great idea to play some board and card games. Of course, the competitive nature led to some yelling between the teens.

You tapped out of the game a while ago, feeling an anxious nerve tapping at the back of your head. You hoped it was nothing. That you could continue enjoying your friend’s company.

Definitely not the case.

“Oh come on! I had it that round!” Miles groaned loudly, nudging Gwen. “I would have won!”

“But you didn’t! I remain the victor!” Pavitr declares loudly, collecting all the cards.

Hobie laughs lowly, finding amusement in the banter among the younger ones. It was nice hearing everyone just able to relax and not worry about their duties. Well, there was one person he hadn’t heard from in a minute.

The older turned to you, noticing the way you seemed to just be.. staring out. Your hands were messing with one another, and your leg was bouncing crazily. Your eyes were glassy, almost as if..

Oh. Oh no.

Subtly, Hobie scoots closer to you, minding himself to not touch you. “Doin’ okay, love?”

The words go into your head, you hear them. But it’s difficult to process. Were you okay? Was this okay? No, it wasn’t, but can you even say that? Should you tell him? Will you tell him? So many overwhelming questions.

“I-”

“Oh come on! You have to be cheating!”

A particularly loud yell from Miles causes you to flinch, head dropping to your knees. No, you weren’t okay. Not one bit. Tears sprang to your eyes quickly as your body rocks, hands harshly pushing against your ears.

This is when Hobie knew he had to spring into action. “Guys, c’mon, ‘s time t’ get goin’.”

Everyone looks up at Hobie, confused, with Gwen being first to speak up. “What? Hobie, we just got here?”

“‘m sorry, but you can come back ‘nother time. Please.” He requests, ushering everyone to stand up.

As Hobie tries to get everyone out and away, you’re off in your own world. Your head was spinning, all your sense coming at you at full force. Everything was crashing down on you, and you couldn’t stop it.

Once he managed to get everyone out, his feet were moving him to your shared room. He needed the essentials; your blanket, your headphones, and your phone. He’d get more once you asked, certainly. Rushing back to you, he kneels down, hands glued to his thighs.

“Hey swee’heart..” He says in a really quiet whisper, not wanting to upset you further. “‘m gonna put these on ya, okay? Jus’ real quick, then ‘m done.. I’ll be right over here for ya.”

He knew these types of things could be harmful, you told him that before. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally hurt him. But letting you know what he’s doing helped a small part of your brain, one trying to gain regulation.

Carefully, Hobie moves to put your headphones on your head, the noise from the outside world coming to a halt. He moves back after, hands in your view as he backs up. That’s how he shows that he’s away, letting you have your space.

Next, he mimics your position, drawing his knees to his chest. Hobie’s nervous, he couldn’t deny, but all he could do was sit and wait. You needed your space, and he would be here to help you with the aftermath.

And then he just.. waits.

Once the sound is blocked out, that’s one less worry on your mind. You focus next on the tears streaming down your face. Everything felt sore, your mind was hurting. That made you want to cry.

You bit your lip as you shake your hands, trying to get some sort of stability. You focus on the movement of your hand, watching the rings Hobie let you steal jangle together. No doubt they make a nice sound, Hobie probably hears it.

Your brain waves start to slow down, you can tell. Without the overwhelming sense, you start to feel at ease. Some thoughts are able to run through.

‘Breathe. Think. Safe.’

You try your hardest to repeat these words in your head, continuously stimming as the tears finally stop. Without the horrible feeling of crying, it’s somewhat easier to understand what’s happening. The loud sounds were gone. You were okay.

By the time you managed to gain more of yourself, your head was hurting badly. Glancing up, you notice the way Hobie was looking at you. He had a worried expression. He didn’t wear it often, but he was now. He was nervous for you.

He gives a small wave, gaining a small laugh from you as you wave back. Then, he holds out his hand, giving you the option to take it. He wants nothing more than to hold and comfort you, he wants to help make you feel secure.

You cautiously take his hand, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. This instantly made you melt in his embrace. Exhaustion was catching up with you.

But things could be okay now. You were alone with Hobie, someone you trusted immensely.

Hobie was relieved when you allowed yourself to be embraced by him. He felt better knowing he could give you this sense of comfort. It was better than being able to do nothing.

Gently, he kisses your forehead when he feels your body slumping. “Mhm.. rest, swee’heart.. ‘m here..”

He knew his words were blocked by your headphones, but he still whispered them anyways. Almost like assuring himself. Everything was okay. You were okay.

Hobie decided that tonight was a good night for a sleep on the floor. He grabs your blanket, putting it over both of your bodies while lying back. He lets you adjust your body so you can sleep comfortably with the headphones on, which happens to be on his side with hands intertwined.

He was comfortable. You were comfortable. And he could easily fall asleep knowing that you would wake up and hopefully feel as good as you did earlier that day.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

heyyy it’s me again😓

i love ur writing sorryy😭 whenever it’s more convenient for you tho could i ask for yan zhongli (im obsessed with that man omfg), ayato and pantalone (again im obsessed w him sorry🥀) with a darling who is like, super high-maintenance? for an example they need to have their hair and nails done or they REFUSE(including them) to go near anyone because they think they don’t look good enough

stay safe, take breaks and make sure u are healthy above everything tho!!💗

-🐚

so i've never been into any of the hair and nails stuff (got my nails done professionally once in middle school, got sick of em after a week and ripped em all off) so i don't know how correct the lingo is, i kinda just went based off what i know from my sister, so i hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including a small bit of delusional behavior, a small bit of obsessive behaviors, no specific pronouns used for the reader but a lot of mentions of reader having their hair/nails/lashes being done, and the rest is just sorta soft. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Zhongli, if you think this man has the mora to pay for anything you’re funny. There is an upside to this though, while he can’t pay to have you get your nails and hair done, or your lashes or for whatever else you wanna get, he can learn to do it for you. Hair and lashes take him a while as they can be more finicky but nails he picks up instantly. Not only is it cheaper but you can describe to him exactly what you want and he’ll be able to do it because he understands you and knows what you mean when you describe things. Plus you don’t have to worry about looking good when you get them done, you can just hang around in your pajamas until everything is finished.

Zhongli listened as you described the design you wanted on your nails, sorting through the assortment of polishes he had collected over his time with you. He’d do anything to please you, and while he couldn’t pay for the things you loved, he could certainly learn to do it for you. He understood wanting to maintain a certain image to the public but he’ll always insist that you look your best when you’re just you. When your hair hasn’t been done in a while, no fake lashes, and when your nails are just painted, no extra things on it. He doesn’t mind appearances, finding that he’s lived too long to base his relationship off something as simple as that, but he does appreciate both sides of you. While he’ll gladly chat about things while he does your nails or gossip while he does your hair, he’ll occasionally remind you that regardless of how you look, he’s always going to love you.

Yandere!Ayato is on top of it, like he schedules and pays for everything. He hires only the best and has them come to you, so that you can get the proper treatment you deserve in the comfort of the Kamisato Estate. You have personal stylists who do your nails, your hair, lashes, wardrobe updates, anything you want and they can do it. They also have some of the hottest gossip about the happenings in Inazuma, giving a proper salon treatment everytime they’re around.

You weren’t sure how Ayato made time to always schedule your appointments and such, keeping more on top of them than you did some days, but you weren’t about to complain about it. Your nail tech and hair stylist were amazing at their jobs, catering to your every whim and doing a phenomenal job at that, like they were born for this kind of work. The stories they brought with them were always just as great, the latest happenings around the city and the nation as a whole, who was doing what now and such on and so forth. Ayato would come to check in on you occasionally throughout your appointment, checking that everything was going well. And of course, when it’s done he expects you to come to his office and show off. He doesn’t care if you interrupt anything, to him you’re his top priority always. Plus he loves to see his darling all dolled up, feeling like the prettiest person in all of Inazuma. In his opinion, you always are, dolled up or not.

Yandere!Pantalone appreciates your intense take on your looks as appearances are a huge thing in his line of work, both on the business aspect and the intimidation aspect. He wants people to see that his accumulated wealth doesn’t go to waste, that he didn’t work for nothing. No, he uses his mass amount of mora to spoil his beloved, someone he has no problem writing checks or opening his wallet for. Anyone else can mind their own, his money is yours. The only downside to this is that he’s a horribly busy man, he’ll find whatever stylists you want and find some way to bring them to the Palace so you can have your appointments in the security of the Harbingers, but it’s up to you to schedule the appointments and keep track of when you’ll need to see them again. Just make sure you tell him when they are when you go to flaunt your new hairstyle and nail’s to him.

Pantalone’s soft smile spread just a bit farther across his face as you came bounding into his office, a bright smile of your own. You had just gotten your hair done and nails touched up and he could tell you were back to feeling like yourself again. While he appreciated all your looks and sides, he loved seeing you smiling and happy, and if that meant spending all this money for you to get pampered, he didn’t mind. He didn’t understand a lot of the words you used as you described what they did to your hair and nails, but he happily listened anyway, his delicate smile never faltering as you retold the whole chain of events. Even if his smile was often for show, when you were around it was never more genuine. He holds your hands in his larger, gloved ones as he looks over your nails, his fingers lightly tracing over the designs with an amused glimmer in his eyes. You were certainly something, and he intended to keep that bright light of yours shining.

[yeokii]

# types of tropes w enha !!

₊﹒wc! 2.7k

₊﹒warnings! non-idol!enha, gn!reader (but I kinda wrote it with she/her pronouns in mind so if you see she/her pronouns im v sorry pls ignore), profanity, mentions of alcohol (only in jake's), mentions of skinship, mentions of stalker behaviour (its a joke, nothing serious tho) mentions of being high (ITS A JOKE), mentions of blood in Riki's one, spelling and grammar errors!!

₊﹒note! yen and Kayla my fave bff helped me w the tropes!! ngl got carried away with junwons one

₊﹒requested by this anon !!

# lee heeseung ⎯ coworkers to lovers

IT JUST FITS HIM SO WELL

heeseung would def catch feelings first when you asked him to help organise the files

HE ALWAYS AND I MEAN ALWAYS takes up the offer whenever you need help with something.

you want a drink? bro will bring you the whole menu

literally will do anything to show that he's into you.

bro just loves being near you.

but this one time where he dropped you home when it started raining heavily, you started to question ur feelings for him.

and so the mutual pining begins 😞

yall both would be mad blushing whenever you both interact w each other.

both of your friends would be so mad because they know you both like each other

like why aren't yall kissing already??

you kinda did know that heeseung did like you back but the man was oblivious

so you asked him out 😁

SUSHI DATE FTW!!

and you both hung out in his car after the date finished and this man did not want to take you home.

it was painful pls 😭

fastfoward to when you both start dating and he come to your house and picks you up so you can both go to work at the same time.

he would bring your daily coffee orders aswell

he would even teach you how to play league of legends help 😭

skinship is a must!!

give it a few months and he would know you more than you know yourself

PLS HES SO CUTE SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN AN AWARD

"baby, let me take you on a date after you finish work."

"I swear to god, it better not be a ramen date again."

₊﹒other members under the cut !!

# park jongseong ⎯ brother's best friend

no cuz its so jongseong of him to fall in love with his best friend's sibling

he would know you since he was like 3 and he prolly always saw you as his best friend's annoying little sibling 😭

but you were literally completely in love with this man

if you could kiss the ground he walked on, you would.

PLSSS HE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO U

just a few glances here and there

but when you started to grow up, you kinda ignored him aswell cuz you started to get a life 💀

BUT U STILL KINDA LIKED JAY THOO

it wasn't very visible as it was before b4

but this hurt jays ego like why aren't you foaming in the mouth whenever you see him???

BYE SOMEONE PLS HUMBLE HIM

so when you both were at a party

YOU LOOKED ETHEREAL

and it bugged him why were you hanging out with other people??

this man really thought you had no social life plss

you looked so pretty and he didn't even look at anyone else, it was just you.

this man fell in love with you gn.

and then from there, he saw you as a romantic aspect or wtv.

IT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE NOW HES THE ONE FOAMING AT HIS MOUTH WHENEVER HE SEES YOU

you kinda noticed that he liked you because he believed actions > words

he started picking you and dropping you off to school when your brother couldn't

he would even bring one of your favourite snacks along the way too

he would text you and talk to you more often

so one night while you and ur bsf had a sleepover

jay also had one w ur brother

AND BROOOO HE WAS SO JEALOUS U COULD SEE HIS EYES TURNING RED

jay vamp era frfr

he was being very passive aggressive to ur bsf

SO U CONFRONTED HIM 😁

and bro just straight up said "I like you"

followed by "I don't like when they talk to you"

so ur just there 🧍‍♀️

like helppp it was so awkward

after the confession, he asked you on a date and ofc you said yes

IT WAS SO CUTE TOO

but a few months in the relationship, you both are getting comfy with each other

its either a full on classy restaurant date or staying at home and watching Disney+

theres no in between

and ofc your brother is okay with this as he gets used to it

he loves to act like he doesn't care for you but you know he loves you

"no I'm not blushing!"

"jay you so are! I didn't know you liked backhugs!"

"SHUT UP"

# sim jaeyun ⎯ exes to lovers

it would def be you who broke up w him

I js don't see Jake calling off a relationship

and it would prolly be over the summer when you thought you and the aussie boy (😝😝😝) didn't click anymore.

mans would be sooo devastated like wdym ya'll don't click anymore???

he would spend more time thinking abt why you thought the relationship didn't work than actually being sad

mans really tried to move on but he srsly couldn't do it.

he was so comfortable with you, he couldn't do that with anyone else.

all his friends witnessed him going through the five stages of greif

it was sad actually 😭

he would still have you as his lock screen like he never even bothered to change it

so probably after 8 months of going through crappy dates and drinking his heart away (he got drunk on apple juice) he decided he wanted you back

so he reached out to you

found out you work at a cafe through his 'sources' (jungwon)

and when you see him he's like "whatttt? you work here????"

its giving stalker behaviour

do better jake 😕👎

and now that he KNOWS you work here

he comes there everyday at 4 right when you're shift begins

bro is the master at small talk

and that is when the small talk with you goes on for an hour and you realise its been an hour since your shift is finished.

he offers a ride back home

and you agreed since you didn't want to walk home alone

you didn't really see the problem with exes being friends and you told him abt it too but

NO NO NO

this man did not work this hard for ya'll to just be friends again

so he waited until your shift finished and decided to bring you your fav flowers

and he asked you if you wanted to go out

and he brought you to a picnic

and you're like "Jake??? its night???"

"you always wanted to have a picnic with me so I thought why not?"

plsss you were shocked that he remembered you wanting to have a picnic with him but you both never had the time.

he even brought your fav sandwiches and drinks it was so cute

and when he dropped you back home he confessed everything and he told you he wanted to get back together

after thinking abt it for a few days

you decided you wanted to get back tgt

so you showed up at his house with flowers in your hand (it was rlly cute plss 😭😭😭)

and when you both get back together

he really tried to make the relationship even more stronger an always assured you to talk to him if you had any problem

its cute because this man is never gonna let u go

like whenever ya'll walk tgt, he's gonna be holding your hand

you're making something in the kitchen? he's backlogging you

you wanna pee? this man's gonna follow you into the bathroom

jake's so cute plss😭😭

jungwon swears he's the reason you both got back tgt

"please you looked so funny when you fell on your butt!"

"remember the time where I dumped you?"

# park sunghoon ⎯ first love

I feel like this boy would not fall in love that easily which is why he hadn't had his first love

sure he had his first likes, loads of partners, but never love

and then baam

you came in 😎

he felt like it was one of those tv series where everything was in slow motion and like the spotlight was just on you

he just felt like it was just you and him in the ice skating rink

like bro's brain just flew through the window

and ofc his kdrama moment had to end because u fell on ur ass trying to skate.

and bro let me tell you

this man procreated the loudest snort alive to mankind

and ofc you glared at him

which made him run to you, helping you up

"hi, I'm sunghoon."

"ok"

he thought he would cry right there.

he apologised and asked to make it up by trying to take you out for ice cream.

ofc you couldn't say no

and you both got to know each other well

this man was scared because he thought he wouldn't se you again

so what did he do?

this man used every pickup line known to mankind

NO NO NO

he did not ask your number

INSTEAD he turned into the rizzlord

oh was it a sight to see

NO CAUSE YOU KNEW HE WANTED YOUR PHONE NUMBER

he was js really nervous

so u asked his phone and saved ur phone number

"maybe I could like yk teach you how to skate next time?"

"wtv you say hoon."

# kim sunoo ⎯ best friends to lovers

oh god the mutual pinning..

YOU BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER

WHY ARENT YALL SUCKING EACH OTHERS FACES RN?

riki asked calmly

and I wholeheartedly agree

you thought sunoo was js your bsf

which explains why he always looks out for you

waiting for you at the school gate everyday even if you're like 30 minutes late

or always getting you fav drink

or always covering for you if you got into trouble

LIKE NAHHHHH

be so fr rn

riki could not stand it

bro was about to grow white hairs

this man was the literal definition of a third wheel

everytime riki tried to talk abt you two

you always dismissed it

AND SUNOO WAS BUTTHURT

like were you that blind?

NO

you were js scared you were gonna get rejected and all these years of friendship would go to waste

and ngl sunoo felt the same

so ofc your matchmaker riki pulled sunoo aside and asked him how he felt abt you

and pls sunoo loves you more than himself

he literally only trusts you

and you were the same for him

#goals

so riki used his amazing megamind brain and asked yall to talk abt your feelings

and it took a while to open up after riki left and by the end of it you both had shared your first kiss with each other 😁

NGL IT WAS REALLY CUTE

you both were red

and now since y'all are in a relationship

riki hated it more

"BOOO get a room."

ur dates were so cute

either it was hot choco dates or ''lets go play in the snow' dates

you always enjoyed it

because you are with sunoo (I physically cringed)

"maybe I should call u the sun cuz u brighten up every room u walk into."

"r u high?"

# yang jungwon ⎯ academic rivals

his jaw dropped when he saw the results

HELLO A 95???

man hasn't got anything below a 97

and there you were

waving ur results sheet at him with a clear 96

bro wanted to slap that smirk right off your face

so he asked the teacher to check his paper again

bye the teacher did not give two fucks

so he checked it himself

he was actually supposed to get a 94 but lets keep that to ourselves 😁

he js waited until the next exam to rot around and by that this man took a mental screenshot of every page in the book

a 94???

GOODBYE.

if there was a dissapear button in life

he would press 65 times

and what did you get

a 97.

happiest day of your life ngl

this man had a whole fit

HE COULD NOT BELIVE IT

the teacher actually had enough of you

and gave you both detention

all you had to clean the classroom

'bonding time' she said

'it'll be fun' she said

so when you started to clean the room

all you both could give each other were side eyes and silent curses

it was painful actually

you both divided the room saying this was his side and that was your side

but there were tiny moments were you were staring at him, admiring his side profile

THAT WAS SO UNLIKE U

U WERE SUPPOSED TO HATE HIM

but why did he look so ethereal when he was sweeping the floors

GET A GRIP.

so there was this moment were you both close to each other and you tripped on your untied shoelaces and landed ontop of him

he landed on his ass

so romantic I know.

and you both stared at each other for a long time (5 seconds)

before he pushed you off him

"EW."

he stood up and went back to sweeping and you were still on the floor

you stood and started cleaning again

but what you didn't realise was that he kept staring at you

occasionally having eye contact

after that day, you both became softer to each other

YOUR TEACHER HAD HER JAW DROPPED WHEN HE SAW YOU BOTH NOT FIGTHING WHEN JUNGWON GOT A 94 AND YOU GOT A 96

like hello???

where the hair ripping and shitty insults??

your friend were in school because you stopped talking bt how much you hate him and so were his friends

scary really

both of your friends thought that you both were planning some big revenge or something

but then they caught you smiling at him while walked past you??

they called an exorcist immediately

THIS IS NOT OK??

you both didn't whine and ask the teacher to change when you both were paired up for a project

you both had a fun time and you actually had a good convo

you both called truce

and you both started to not hate each other

and one day while you both talked you had a moment of silence when you just said 'fuck it' and went in and kissed him

GET A ROOM

and the next day in school

you both walked holding hands

everyone was so confused because um what the actual fuck?

"can't believe I used to hate this pretty face."

"ew jungwon"

"shut up before we go back to being enemies"

# nishimura riki ⎯ hates everyone but you

when he heard about love, all he could say was 'bs'

like be so fr

BUT THAT WAS UNTIL YOU ENROLLED IN THE SCHOOL

he swore he could hear wedding bells

everything abt you was so perfect

like he never had an ideal type but god damn bro

might as well have one rn

he like froze for a sec

crazy ik

tbh you didn't acknowledge his existence for a few days

until you saw him playing basketball w his friends

and his basketball met w ur face

bye ur nose did not stop bleeding

man came rushing to u when he realised it was u

he took you to the nurse and when you were all ok

he sheepishly grinned at you and apologised for hitting you w his basketball

you were quick to forgive him and you started to become friends since that day

everyone was in shock because you were the first person he'd ever talked other than his friends

and you were so confused because everyone kept telling this was so unlikely of him

he had never tied someones shoelaces when they were untied

or he had never lent someone his jacket

even to his friends

the privilege was showing

like u were so confused because he doesn't do this with other people

he prolly be like 😐 but when you're there hes like 😁

soo you asked him

"idk I like you"

HELLO???

"oh uhm haha same."

BYE YALL ARE SO AWKARD

it took a few weeks for him to grow some balls and ask you to be his s/o

and this man needed to always be on your side

he's gaming? ur on his lap.

he's playing basketball? ur playing with him.

UR LIKE EVERYWHERE

its so cute

makes me sick

"BABY WHERE R U GOING?"

"riki I need to pee."

perm taglist!! @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom