#I didn’t deserve this. I did not deserve any of this

[jaggedamethyst]

not in that way (part one)

bucky barnes x fwb!reader

content: steve rogers is your best friend, which means that inherently bucky should be yours too. somewhere along the way, it became more than that for you. for bucky, it's just tolerance. he likes you, but not like that. not in that way.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, protected sex (yeah wrap that up), rough, choking, fwb, mean bucky, mutual pining, not proofread

notes: thank you guys for the support on the snippet as well as for waiting for me as i got this done! i just finished finals so i plan on locking in on this one and circuit breaker bc i cannot stop thinking about them.

ps. i swear bucky and reader are friends, just had to hit the angst and give some background but there will be cute moments along with smut probably every chapter...I'm hoeing out.

series master list

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

“Steve?” You called out to him, steps pounding behind you as you hurriedly moved toward his pinged location. “Steve, oh my god.” Your voice trailed off, shock evident. 

People brushed by you and pushed toward Steve’s figure on the ground. You’d never seen him like this. Sure, Steve Rogers was a super soldier and the most physically strong man you knew—but this was different. Mentally, he seemed destroyed. 

He called your phone, short of breath and muttering for help. It immediately sent you into action. You were normal—the most civilian anyone could be. There was no other option but to call someone, plead with them to find and help your friend. He’d been washed up on the shore, lying in the dirt and clearly out of it. 

You watched him get worked on, staring into the distance. 

“What happened?” You kneeled next to him,  “Who did this?” 

Steve turned to you, eyes glossed over in disbelief. “Bucky.” He shook his head, “It was Bucky.” He kept repeating it to himself, attempting to convince his own mind that it was true. “It was him. It was Bucky. He was here.” 

“I don’t understand,” you grasped his shoulder. “I thought he was gone—you saw.” You gulped, searching his face for any hesitance. “You said he fell, that he-“

“It was him.” 

“Okay.” You nodded, “Okay, I believe you. He was here.” 

It was true. The man you’d heard so many stories about had returned. He wasn’t like the anecdotes Steve recalled; this Bucky was darker, more quiet, resigned. 

He was an observer. You often caught him staring at you, eyes lingering between your figure and Steve’s. Bucky would always stand, tucked into a corner. He didn’t feel deserving of the warmth Steve offered—the humanity that remained present in you. There were times, then, that you would offer a welcoming hand. A slight wave of motion offered him a seat, acknowledging that he did deserve to be there. He felt human with you. 

That’s what initially drew Bucky to you and inevitably why you became friends, too. There was a way that you loved everyone, insisted on not leaving them out and nourished their insides. 

The hurt came when he realized it would never be that way for him.

You could never love him, not a monster. Not when the shining emblem of a perfect man sat beside you every day. Steve had so much time with you—he was your best friend. Bucky couldn’t replace him, not if he tried. So he always kept you at arms length, hoping to be more than friends but settling for something less. 

The first time it happened, when Bucky had been so lucky to have a moment with you—he swore that he was dreaming. He never gave you a reason to like him, in fact, it was the opposite. He’d gone out of his way every day to push you further from him, make it known that he’d never be as good as Steve. 

He could tell you saw something different; he hated it. 

The three of you had tried small talk often, Steve facilitating some sort of discussion to break the ice. It almost always ended with you and Bucky exactly where you started, friends who were forced to be so because of a mutual one.

“Well, I’m headed out—you two should talk.”

“Steve, no-“ 

“Buck, you two are my favorite people in the world. I would love it if you gave this a chance.” Steve patted his friend’s shoulder, “For me. Please.” 

Bucky turned to look at Steve, a solid expression on his face. He didn’t speak, just gave him a small nod and let Steve step around him and out of your place. 

It was common that Steve would find solace in your home. It was far from the city, neatly tucked away in a residential area. There was a sense of normalcy and he was proud to introduce that to Bucky—he needed that, deserved it after everything. 

The room was silent, violently so. You sat across from Bucky—him lingering in your peripheral and you nestled softly into your couch. He didn’t move, standing still near a wall which offered him the sight of every possible window and exit. 

“Do you wanna sit?” 

You watched his body for any reaction, dissatisfied when there was none. It was awkward, him avoiding eye contact and you not sure of what else to say. 

You sighed, “I’ll be back.” You announced your departure, not that it mattered to him. 

You beelined to the bathroom, desperately needing to escape him. He was always like this, closed off and so obviously annoyed by your presence. Splashing your face with water did little to temper you and your body seemed to overheat at the thought of having to see him again. 

You didn’t let yourself think—couldn’t. You stepped out and kept your head down before looking toward Bucky’s signature spot on the wall. He wasn’t there. 

You tilted your head down, seeing Bucky now sitting on the couch, two cushions away from where you’d been prior. He watched you smile softly, moving to sit in your spot.

Bucky made a habit of keeping his hands in his lap. He would sit stoically at all times. It was the same now. 

He avoided eye contact but muttered, “Hi.” 

Your breath hitched, surprised he’d started conversation. Keeping your tone even so as not to overwhelm him, you replied, “Hi, Bucky.” 

The both of you nodded, letting the weight of your forced proximity surround you. As much as he tried, he couldn’t ignore you. The faint smell of your hair products, the way you tapped your own leg rhythmically, how nervous you were—he noticed it all. 

“Do you, um,” you swallowed. “Do you want something to drink, maybe?” 

It’d been over a year since Bucky showed up. You, of course, shared small talk with him in that time. He’d grown to know the story of you and Steve—how you met. It would suffice to say that Bucky grew to be an acquaintance of yours—a long lost friend of a friend…one that would never truly like you. Accepting that was hard; you wanted Bucky to be comfortable at the very least. If not like you, he would at bare minimum be able to sit down for once. 

So today was a win. 

Bucky didn’t reply to your question but instead asked his own, “How was Steve? Without me, I mean?” 

His voice was gruff, and you hadn’t expected that question, let alone more than a single syllable from him. 

“Well,” you readjusted to face Bucky, “He’s always the most positive guy in the room—which I’m sure you know.”

Bucky let a smirk slip, recounting the optimism his friend had at all times. 

“He’s better than me that way, than a lot of us.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. He’s just Steve, you know that.” 

He didn’t know that. Bucky was living in his body but observing from outside his own mind. He was witnessing his friend after so much time had escaped him. Everything he thought was true wasn’t anymore. 

He wanted to get to know you, offer you the same grace that was given to him. But he couldn’t. Before it even begun Bucky was overwhelmed. He pushed himself to be kinder, to do this for Steve. It was simply futile. 

He stood suddenly and looked down at you, “I should go.” 

“Okay,” you stood, nodding. “I guess I’ll be seeing you.” 

He hummed, rolling his shoulders back and tightening his posture again. He didn’t respond. 

“I’ll tell Steve you tried today,” you whispered to him. “I know he’ll appreciate it. I do.” 

The tension was palpable. Your eyes stayed locked on each other until you heard a sound and looked down. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm was clear, only slightly suppressed by the gloves he always wore. He watched you noticing his hand twitch as if he wanted to move it. There was a restraint there, like he was pushing down something that was second nature. As if he meant to do something that he’d always done. 

You swallowed hard enough to hear it in your ears. Looking at Bucky, you arched your brow in a subtle defiance—daring him to do what he intended. You wanted to know him and his habits, to understand even a modicum of what was in his brain. 

Without thinking a second more, he let his left arm lift a bit. He reached toward your face but paused at you flinching, leaning away from him. 

Just barely audible, you spoke, “Sorry.” 

Bucky blinked and furrowed his brows, unable to stop himself. He let his fingers wrap around your face, a single hand pressing just under your chin and at the top of your throat. Slightly wide eyed, you watched him watching you. Most of his hand rested on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the other side of your face. 

Despite no longer being the Winter Soldier, his habits lingered. When in that state he remembered being like this so vividly—a hand around someone’s throat and crushing the life out of them. He hissed at the thought, not at all intending for that with you. He craned your head, though, observing the quizzical look on your face. 

It didn’t make sense to him, the need to maintain this routine. But he did. Beyond the haze of what was once his signature way of taking life—he saw a new one. Bucky could envision his future so clearly, yet he couldn’t let himself have it. 

He went to drop his hand but stopped at the feeling of yours on his wrist. It was inexplicable. Glove or not, you craved the contact from him. 

The room stayed silent except for the slight creak of the floorboards beneath you. While Bucky stayed steady, you teetered on the balls of your feet—this moment feeling fleeting. 

He inched forward, watching your eyes fall closed. 

Your lips were right there, the ones he’d openly been ogling at for months. It was torture, but all he knew. He couldn't allow himself the satisfaction of the feeling. He wasn’t deserving. 

Instead, he latched onto your neck. Bucky kissed and nibbled there with an urgency you hadn’t expected—hell, you didn’t even think today would’ve progressed to this at all. 

The feeling of him on you was intoxicating, and it was so minuscule. His hands were all over you, and yours on him. Your breath came out ragged, “We shouldn’t.” 

“You’re right.” He paused on your neck briefly, directly in your ear now. “We shouldn’t.” 

“We’re friends.” You nodded, letting your hands trail up his back and into his hair. 

“Are we?”

You weren’t sure. It was complicated. You couldn’t let yourself think about that now and neither could he. 

He pushed you down onto the couch and stood above you, allowing you to finally look him over. He was casually in jeans and a t-shirt, the rest of his body entirely covered. The only skin that showed besides his face was just below at his neck. Around it lied his dog tags that he was so adamant about wearing. The glint of them always caught your eye and alerted you of his presence. Even when he showed up silent, you’d see him and those damn tags. Just always out of your eyeline but in the room—that was who Bucky had always been. In his stoicism he was still consistently there.

Watching Bucky undo his pants already had you eager for him, too. There was always something there for you, an intrigue simply at the way he carried himself. You stayed seated, leaning back a bit in an attempt to slide down your sweatpants. Both of you watched the other discarding the bottom half of their clothes with little thought, tossing them aside. 

He leaned, then, ruffling into his dark jacket’s interior. 

“I got it,” he mumbled, ripping into the condom wrapper with his teeth. He slid the latex over himself just before pushing the jacket off his back. 

He kneeled into the couch, the angle awkward but enough that he was able to slide into you like he wanted. It was tight—rough. You expected the burn but still sucked in a breath at it, the lack of prep. Bucky didn’t mean to make it this way but just wanted it to be over—the insatiable need to pump in and out of you. Only you.

Slowly and deliberately he continued to kiss around your neck, collarbone, and ears. He snapped into you, purposely moving at a speed that allowed him to chase a high rather than savor the moment with you. He wanted to, truly…to acknowledge the way you looked up at him. It was his dream to let the sounds of you falling apart actually hit his ears and mean something—but he couldn’t. 

The couch creaked and rocked. You were now slightly bent into the back of the cushions, your chest moving up and down alongside Bucky’s. He pulled back, stabilizing himself behind you. The new angle allowed you to see his dog tags again, them hitting you with every movement into you. Without thinking you grabbed them, hooking them under one of your fingers. 

He finally allowed himself some relief, his voice dragging out the moans he’d himself been holding in. “Fuck...” 

You watched him intently, pulling him closer by the chain on his neck. He shifted his angle a bit at that and watched your jaw drop open. Your brows furrowed, whines choking out of you at the new sensation. It made you let go of his tags, grasping at the fabric of his shirt. This made him pound into you faster—realizing a tether of intimacy was gone. 

He was subconsciously glad for that, happy that he could pinpoint and force that sweet look in your eyes away. There was no longer an adoration in your gaze but simply one of pleasure. This was for the best. He could appreciate you from a distance despite the line of friendship being crossed so carelessly now. 

“Shit,” you groaned out suddenly. “Buck-“ 

He hushed you softly, quelling the harsh sound in your throat. It only spurred him on though, truly ruthless about this. He only slowed at the feeling of your fingers gliding over his face, pushing the stray piece of hair out of view. His pace stuttered, faltering as he really looked at you. 

A second later, he started in on you again. A clothed hand found its way into your shirt and pinched at your nipples. His grip was rough, kneading your chest. You were already so close; every additional sensation only pushing you further.

You met him suddenly, writhing into him and filling the living room with lewd slapping sounds. 

Bucky huffed breaths out at every push into you. You fought a squeak, pressing your own hand over your mouth. You gnawed at it as it allowed some relief from the burning inside of you. He was hitting that same spongey spot over and over. He was so good at picking up on the subtle changes in your face and body. 

Without warning he slipped out and nudged you, “Turn.” 

You did without questioning, a firm covered hand rubbing at the skin of your hips. Regardless of his gloves, you felt the difference in his hands—the slight shift of metal in one versus the pulse in the other. There was a contrast you enjoyed, a chill about his metal arm that grounded you. 

A knee pushed your legs open as he slid into you again, this time using you as leverage. Bucky pushed you down slowly, this side of your head finding the cushion. This angle was new, deeper. It wouldn’t be much longer at this point and he could tell. One hand slipped underneath you and up to your neck again, squeezing just enough for you to appreciate the loss of breath. In between gasps you nudged further into the couch, the sensation becoming too much for you. 

He couldn’t stop when you came, relishing the way your insides continued to pulse. It was as if he was meant to stay; his one true purpose was to be completely enveloped by you. When he finished a strained sound choked in his throat, one that you hadn’t expected. 

You were throbbing still, a cold feeling finally making you realize he pulled away. The feeling of him on you had gone away so quick. The sound of a different metal clanked—his belt buckle bouncing around as he slid his pants back on. 

“Should we…should I tell Steve about this?” 

Your question was sudden, but was filled with a weight that scared him. You didn’t want to be too forward—but it was only right. Steve was now caught in the middle of something complicated. Even if this was the first and only time…you weren’t sure you could keep this from him. 

Bucky thought differently. 

“Why would you wanna tell him?” 

“Because it’s-“ 

“Leave him out of this.”  

Bucky readjusted his clothes, smoothing them over as they’d been before. You watched him inch his way to the door—his back toward you. 

You ignored the pang in your chest, the confusion that now resonated in you. Pushing it away, you settled on changing the subject. “Steve wanted to do something tomorrow, you coming?” 

He didn’t turn as he grabbed the doorknob, merely craned his head to the side. You watched his profile for any sense of something but again he was so unreadable for you. 

“I’ll be there.” 

Then he left. 

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[gakukitty]

— ONE, TWO, THREE, SMIILE ! x sakamoto days

summary . where ur boyfriend keeps his naughty pics of you !!!

wc . 1.2k

cw . SMUT / SUGGESTIVE MDNI , the characters arreeaeee… shin asakura , kei uzuki , nagumo yoichi , heisuke mashimo , shishiba , gaku , natsuki seba

masterlist ౨ৎ

note: i’m writing this rlly late at night so sorry for any mistakes / confusing stuff ; w ; i’ll get around to editing it ine daaayyyg

shin asakura

in a locket on his necklace . shin is veeery cautious about where he keeps his picture ! you’re the love of his life; and there is absolutely no way that he will ever let anyone see you like that.

ooh, now that he thinks about it— you look sooo good in this photo. lips all glossy as they’re wrapped around his cock, your pretty nails sparkling from the flash of the camera as you stroke the rest of his length that your warm mouth can’t take. and man, does he love the look in your eyes. yup, shin will keep this with him until the day he dies.

shin doesnt really look at the picture that often. he already feels bad enough having it in the first place— even if it’s rather small and tucked away in a pretty little locket attached to another necklace draped on his neck. but one night, when he’s feeling particularly hot and bothered and you’re not there— he really can’t help but sneak a look at the cute picture, his head tilting back as he palms himself through his pants.

kei uzuki

in his wallet . kei isn’t exactly secretive about this picture— he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous, and definitely deserve to be shown off a little. but not too much.

after all, he wouldn’t want just anyone to see a pretty lady— his pretty lady— sat on his lap and taking his thick cock like a freakin’ champ! he was so proud of you that night, his free hand gently caressing your neck, a smile curved on his lips.

that very same smile always appears when he opens his wallet. ah, how he loves the sight of you.

nagumo yoichi

in his phonecase . nagumo loves you so much; so of course he’s gonna have his all time favorite picture of you slipped into his phonecase. his very clear phomecase.

come ooon, don’t look at him like that— he knows that you love being shown off a little! especially when you were grinding all up on him and moaning sweetly when he was on the phone that night. as soon as that call ended, he was soo quick to flip you over. and in a matter of minutes, he was thrusting in and out, in and out, whining and groaning into your ear as his hand clutches at your waist. he took many photos (of course), but the prettiest one in his opinion was definitely the one of your back arching, ass pressed against his pelvis as his warm palm squeezes at the flesh of your hip. if only pictures could capture sounds, as well.

nagumo likes to look at this picture a lot. sways flipping his phone so he can smile dreamily at the sight, admiring the sweat glistening on your back and he suddenly has an idea; he thinks it’s about time he takes another photo. this time, your face will be visible! it’s safe to say you didn’t do much sleeping that night.

heisuke mashimo

an acrylic keychain . this one’s a little out there and rather random , but i think that it fits heisuke perfectly !

he just loooves that photo. you’re perched on your knees, plush lips pursed as you press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. it felt so good, and the memory is definitely a welcome one whenever he sees his cute keychain dangle on his rifle bag. thing. (?)

heisuke was adamant about making this keychain all on his own. even the thought of letting someone else see that picture made his cheeks flush and his heartbeat quicken. so, he did it himself. it was a little hard, because firstly— heisuke’s not the best at DIY. and secondly, he was just a little distracted by how cute you looked !

in the end, though, he managed. and it doesn’t even look too bad! maybe you’ll need to rearward him :3

shishiba

photo album . i honestly can’t see shishiba bringing such a precious picture anywhere that could risk someone seeing it or blood splattering on it— tainting the sweet image of you taking his cock.

so, instead, he keeps all of his prizes neat in a photo album. he has two; a digital one, and a book which he keeps in your shared bedroom. his digital album is nice, sure.. but in all honesty, he fucking loves running his fingers over the pictures in his photobook.

when he’s off at work, he’ll settle for staring longingly and swiping through the pictures of his digital album. oh, you looked so good that night.. squirming and whining against his tongue. he sighs softly, swiping again.

and when shishiba is back at home, he’s flipping through the pages of the physical copy. he thinks that he’d like to cum over this picture of you— or rather, your pretty pussy. he glances over to the clock. when will you get home?

gaku

his lockscreen . gaku didn’t really put much thought into it. one night, after fucking you thoroughly into the sheets to the point you had fallen asleep, drooling against his arm, he found himself scrolling through the photos he took during all that. he hums, silently admiring the angles. he almost feels like a professional photographer or something. he chuckles quietly at the thought.

but when he lands on one specific picture— his thumb pauses. this is definitely his favorite. you had just came, and the expression on your face was so cute he just couldn’t resist snapping an extra picture. so, with a similar feeling of impulse, he sets it as his lockscreen.

he just smirks when he hears you squeal in the morning. he tilts his head, looking over to you as you clutch his phone. cute, he thinks.

gaku really doesn’t care what other people think of his new lockscreen, though. the stares are irrelevant, the small sounds of surprise are almost getting irritating. he’s just happy to be greeted by your cute face each time he turns his phone on.

natsuki seba

on his toolbox . natsuki really loves his pictures of you. he replaces them almost every week or two, but the one that has stayed the longest (two weeks and a half so far), is quite gorgeous.

your glistening cunt is on display, a mixture of his spit, his cum and your cum leaks out so nicely. he was absolutely entranced, a finger reaching to spread your folds. like smiling for the camera.. but in a different way. this picture is definitely worth it’s place on his toolbox.

natsuki likes to have two pictures. one of your sex life, and one of your beautiful face during a date. as much as he loves his girl when she’s all fucked out; he also loves the smile on your face when the two of you go out.

he tapes the two pictures on either side of his toolbox with sparkly washi tape— that you left with him on accident one evening. he’ll give it back one day, he promises! every time he reaches for something, he’s greeted by whichever sight he’s in the mood for and he loooves it !

© gakukitty please don’t copy my work , repost it and claim as your own , translate , or do anything stupid with it ! try and improve on ur own skills first ♡

[malikaihii]

tw: Comments on weight, negative comments from a parent, overall hurt/comfort, also i am not japanese so apologies if there’s any errors in terms used. Also apologies for spelling or grammar issues.

It was the first time Ushijima Wakatoshi would be meeting your parents. You’d been together for a few months now, and your parents wanted to meet the man in your life. Begrudgingly, you accepted their dinner invitation. Though, you made sure to warn the man that they (your mother) may be a bit much, and if at any point he was uncomfortable, you guys could leave. No questions asked.

Ushijima was prepared. He had always gotten along well with adults. He himself had always acted politely, quietly, and with the nature of someone much older than he actually was. So, despite your warnings. He was fully prepared. You yourself had told him they’d love him, so why wouldn’t he be prepared? He was completely ready for the events of the evening.

Or so he thought.

Because right now, you’re sitting together at the dinner table, and Ushijima swears he never could have been fully, or even slightly, prepared for what he’s witnessing.

“Oh my god! Are you already at your second plate? No need to eat so fast, we made plenty!” your mother laughs, the noise scratching Ushijima’s brain in all the worst ways, “You know, we made food so that your boyfriend could eat more. He actually has a reason to eat so much!”

Your mother had spent the entire evening critiquing your every move. He swears he hadn’t heard a single nice thing fall from her mouth.

“A man like him should be with someone more composed and calm! You don’t want to annoy him, dear.” Your mother states, after you had spoken a bit too long for her liking.

Though, Ushijima would never agree with her. He loved hearing you speak. He loved how energetic and excited you got. It balanced well with his quiet demeanor.

He’d noticed, almost instantly, how uncomfortable her comments had made you. Your face would fall; going from its happy smile into a deep frown. Each time she spoke he’d grab your hand and squeeze it tightly. Partially, to comfort you, the other part was to clam himself down.

As the dinner ended, he had stood up to help with the dishes and clean up. You had as well.

“Oh, dear! No need to worry about clean up! y/n can handle it, after all that’s what good partners should do!” She said, giggling yet again.

Ushijima praised himself on his ability to remain calm. He rarely let things bother him. Now, however, he was struggling to hold his irritation in.

How dare someone belittle you in such a way? He didn’t care that it was your mother, you’re his love. He wasn’t comfortable just sitting around letting someone talk over you. Letting her talk as though you were a burden.

He loves you. He loves the way you talk excitedly. He loves taking care of you. He doesn’t want you to ever feel that it’s you place, your “duty”, to pick up after his mess. Frankly, it was disrespectful. Did they think so little of him, that he’d treat his lover with such blatant disrespect?

“It’s quite alright, l/n-san.” He stated shortly, helping you clean up despite her comments.

After cleaning, you guys had all sat down to watch a movie. The movie showed a beautiful young main character. They had their life together, were well in shape, respectful, and respected.

“You know, y/n, you really should be more like them. They’ve got their life together and everything! You better hurry before your boyfriend here realizes what he’s missing out on.” Your mother states; this was the third time she’s mentioned Ushijima deserving “better”.

The man in mention, had quite frankly, had enough. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t sit here and listen to such belittling anymore, not towards you.

Still appearing as calm as ever, though you saw right through him, he rose from his seat.

“Thank you for having us, however, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this meeting short. I have practice in the morning.”

He didn’t. That’s why you guys had chosen this night in the first place. It gave you more time. However, the finality in his tone led for no further arguments. And honestly, you were greatful. You just wanted to leave.

After saying quick and short thanks and goodbyes, he grabbed your hand and left the building.

Neither of you spoke on the way home, though with the grip in which he held on your hand, you didn’t need to. You knew he was frustrated.

When you arrived home, he immediately hugged you. He barely gave you time to even close the door.

“I’m so sorry.”

That was all he had said.

“You have no reason to be. I’m sorry that they were a bit rude, they really have no filter at times.”

He pulled back and just stared at you, still holding your shoulders.

“They’re stupid.”

Your eyes widened. It was rare for Ushijima to speak so rudely, especially in relation to an elder.

“I apologize if that’s rude to say, however, It’s true. They spent the whole evening critiquing you for being human. They dared to insinuate that you weren’t the best thing to ever happen to me. As well as to belittle my favorite things about you? To belittle you? Stupid.”

It was rare to see the man so worked up. He was usually so nonchalant. Honestly, it was flattering seeing him so worked up over you. So upset over the way your mother spoke to you. Your heart warmed as you just held him. Knowing that even when you couldn’t rely on your own mother to love you, you could always rely on him.

[hbyrde36]

Your Dasher is Nearby ❤

(Inspired by a TikTok that I can no longer find the link to 🙈)

For @pearynice - Happy Birthday bestie! ILY! 🥰😘🤗

Steddie | Explicit | WC:6672 | AO3

After fighting with the finicky lock on his front door for almost a full five minutes, Steve slunk inside, reveling in the hush of his quiet, if lonely, abode after an exhausting day at work. Robin had only moved out a few weeks ago, and he still wasn’t quite used to coming home to an empty house. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy for her, he just wished she could have settled down with a girlfriend that didn’t live so fucking far away.

Technically, it was a reasonable forty-five minute drive from Hawkins to Indianapolis, but when you were used to seeing someone every single day, even a mile down the road felt as far off as the moon.

It probably didn’t help that today was his birthday, the first he’d have to spend alone since he and Robin had met, slinging ice-cream together one summer after high school and became instant best friends. They had plans for a sleepover on the weekend to celebrate, but that didn’t stop Steve wishing she were there now. Not to mention the fact that the only happy birthday texts he’d gotten all day had been from Robin, and a few of the kids he used to babysit, who weren’t really kids anymore. There hadn’t been a call, text, or so much as an email with one of those shitty e-cards full of low-resolution sparkly roses and balloons from either of his parents. 

Not that he’d expected any different, but it stung all the same.

After a long hot shower that sadly did nothing to lift his mood, Steve stood in front of his refrigerator and sighed. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised to find it bare, it wasn’t as if he'd been grocery shopping recently, but for some reason those empty glass shelves staring back at him like an accusation of how badly he was taking care of himself, were the last straw.

He slammed the fridge door, spinning on his heel to stomp like a petulant child over to the couch, not even bothering to switch the living room lamp on. If he was going to cry he might as well do it in the dark. The first tear slid down his cheek as he hugged a throw pillow to his chest. From there, the floodgates opened when he realized the cushion he clutched still smelled faintly of Robin’s perfume.

God he was pitiful. 

He was twenty-four—er—twenty-five, not five, and much too old to be acting like such a baby.

In the middle of his pity-party for one, Steve's phone vibrated in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled it out in a rush, equal parts hoping for a message from his mom, and dreading it. Only to be disappointed yet again.

It was a stupid notification from DoorDash. A coupon code, no doubt pushed to him because of the day. These companies all had far too much of people’s personal information. Some days Steve would swear his phone was actually picking up on his conversations. Dustin said he was being paranoid, but Steve knew better. Maybe it wasn’t the NSA or some other secret government agency, but someone was listening.

He was sure of it.

You deserve a treat. Use code 30FROMDD for 30% off.  Offer expires 3/20/25. $12 order minimum required. Terms apply.

Hmm…

He was supposed to be saving money now that he had to cover the mortgage alone. Of course, he’d considered the idea of looking for another roommate, and eventually he would have to, but he wasn’t ready to see anyone else in Robin’s space yet.

Fuck it, he thought, lifting the bottom hem of his white tank top to wipe at his eyes. It was his birthday dammit. 

He did deserve a treat.

Steve kept it modest, finding Benny’s within the app and adding his usual cheat meal to the cart, a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a slice of chocolate cake for good measure. His finger hovered above the order button for a moment before he decided to say fuck it, again, and added a six pack of beer from the convenience store around the corner and a small pack of birthday candles. 

He finished the transaction quickly and closed out of the app before he could change his mind and talk himself out of it, then decided to indulge in one more thing, calling Robin on FaceTime.

She answered on the first ring, already singing to him as the video call connected.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Dinguuuuuuuuuuus, Happy Birthday to you!”

God he loved her.

He laughed, feeling the first genuine smile he’d given all day stretch over his mouth as he leaned back into the couch, holding the phone up near his face.

“Thanks for that,” he said sarcastically, but really meaning it wholeheartedly.

“Aw, honey,” Robin squinted, leaning closer to her own screen. “Your hair’s wet. What’s wrong?”

She would notice that.

Steve raked a hand through his dripping locks self consciously. They’d lived together long enough for her to know how much he hated letting it air dry. It always lacked his signature fullness when left to its own devices, but pulling out his hair dryer and round brush tonight felt like way too much effort.

“Nothing,” he said through a heavy exhale. “Just the usual.”

And of course that was all the context Robin needed to guess at the heart of the issue.

She sneered, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Remind me to punch your parents in their stupid faces if I ever meet them.”

“Will do,” he said with a little mocking salute.

“I’m serious!” She insisted, dragging a finger across her throat in a, surprisingly terrifying, cutting gesture. “Richard and Donna’s days are numbered.”

Steve choked on a snort. “I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots.”

“As they should be.” Robin gave a decisive nod, satisfied that her thinly veiled threats to him over the phone would somehow make their way to his parents, wherever they were. “On to happier topics then. We’re still on for this weekend, right?”

Steve rolled his eyes, lounging back onto the couch and kicking his socked feet up on the coffee table. “Obviously.”

“I’m just checking!” She squeaked defensively. “For all I know you’ve lined up a date or something since we made these plans.”

“Who’s going on a date?” Another feminine voice trilled from somewhere off camera.

Robin lifted her eyes, looking in the distance as she answered. “Steve.”

Steve tilted his head back with a sigh. These fucking lesbians were relentless. “I’m not going on a—”

Suddenly a second face filled his phone’s screen, Chrissy, her strawberry blonde hair falling in both her and Robin’s faces, as she mashed their cheeks together. “Who’s the lucky guy taking our little birthday boy out on the town?” She asked.

“There’s no guy—or girl. Robin’s being annoying.” Steve made sure to emphasize the or, since the two of them liked to go around pretending they forgot that Steve was ‘half straight’, as Robin would say. He knew it was only her way of lovingly trying to get a rise out of him, but there would be no bi-erasure in his house! Teasing or not.

Chrissy pouted. “Oh boo, you’re no fun.”

It’s not like Steve didn’t want to date, he was just feeling a little gun-shy after the whole Tommy fiasco. Robin and Chrissy had both been on him for weeks about getting back out there, constantly trying to set him up with some friend of Chrissy’s who still lived in town. He had a feeling that encouragement was about to get ten times worse now that Robin wasn’t there to keep an eye on him herself.

Robin shoved at Chrissy’s shoulder, knocking her out of frame. “Babe, be nice.” 

“You started it.” Chrissy retaliated with a tickle attack, or so Steve assumed based on the way Robin began shrieking like a banshee, and the fact that his view through the phone suddenly became erratic, swinging around wildly. 

Adorable as all this was, the Blair Witch style cinematography they were subjecting him to was making him nauseous, and maybe a little jealous of their relationship.

“Hey,” he called out, clearing his throat. “I think I'm gonna let you guys go. Thanks for the song, Rob.”

“No, wait, Steve—” Robin shouted, shushing Chrissy. The world around her stopped spinning as she seemed to settle on her back, laying down on the carpet and holding the phone above her. “You sure?” 

He knew she'd stay on the phone with him all night if he needed her to, but that idea only made him feel more pathetic. 

“Yeah. My takeout is gonna be here soon anyway.” Steve said with a smile, trying hard to make it reach his eyes so she’d believe he was okay. “Love you, see you in a few days.”

After a brief pause with a wrinkled brow she finally gave in and smiled back. “Love you too, Dingus.”

Steve rubbed at his face, pocketing his phone before getting up to finally switch the lights on, the TV too for some background noise, and found he was actually feeling a little better after seeing Robin’s face, the sting of the day fading into the background a bit. He puttered around for a while, straightening the house, even managing to throw a load of laundry in the wash before his pocket buzzed again. 

Eddie is approaching with your order.

He tapped the notification, opening the app so he could see exactly how close he was to being in hamburger bliss, thrilled to find his dasher was mere blocks away, only for his stomach to drop half a second later.

In his hurry to order he’d completely forgotten to add a tip, and no matter how hard he jabbed at his screen, the stupid app wouldn’t let him go back and change it now. The way Steve saw it, he had two options—stiff this poor Eddie guy on his tip, or meet him outside with cash. Which was… probably a super weird thing to do, but it beat having someone, who now knew where he lived, thinking he was an asshole.

Eddie yawned, stretching his arms up as far as the roof of the van would allow while he waited for the light to turn green. He was stiff, exhausted from his shift at Thatcher’s and had only taken the time to have a quick shower and wolf down a burrito from the gas station before accepting his first order. 

The last thing he felt like doing after slaving away under chassis and over car engines all day, was drive around all night delivering food to the ungrateful masses. But, Wayne’s hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves. Getting into a fender bender wasn’t cheap these days. It was fine, they’d manage, but he didn't want the old coot hurting himself by trying to go back to work at the plant with a broken goddamn arm. Honestly Eddie was just grateful his uncle had made it out of the accident in one piece. He’d work a second job for the rest of his life if he had to, so long as his surrogate father stayed around for a good long time. 

Who else would walk him down the aisle some day? That is, if Eddie could ever land a date again. 

He’d had his fair share of short-lived relationships and a few steamy one and two night stands, but he’d yet to find someone worth settling in for the long haul. Or, hell, find someone who was even interested in the long haul. Not that he didn’t appreciate the simple joy of a random hookup now and again, but sometimes he felt like the last hopeless romantic in a generation full of peers who didn’t believe in love anymore.

The first few runs of the night were business as usual, mainly fast food pick-ups and quick, easy, no-contact drop offs. He couldn’t help thinking if he kept up this pace he might even be able to knock off early enough to get a full eight hours of sleep.

Optimism wasn’t usually his gig, which probably should have been the first red flag that the night was about to take a turn.

Lost in the groove, he accepted the next order without really looking at the details, annoyed to realize it not only involved two stops, but this Steve prick hadn’t even selected a tip. 

Eddie raced to the first destination, speed the one way to make this order worthwhile now, and hoped the guy’s food was bagged and ready to go. It was, thankfully, and he snatched the bag off the counter with barely a wave at the worker standing behind it, sprinting back out the door.

There was a brief hold-up at the second spot, the same combination gas station corner-store Eddie had procured his dinner from earlier, something about candles that were out of stock—he wasn’t really listening and the app would notify the customer anyway—but he was on his way soon enough, breaking traffic laws left and right to get across town in record time. 

After double checking that he was at the right address, Eddie parked on the street in front of a mailbox shaped like an ice cream truck all done up in pastels, and despite it all found himself smiling as he got out of the van. It was a small, quaint one-story house, with a well-loved vintage BMW parked in the drive. The sky was growing dark, but a pair of bright porch lights provided enough of a glow to reveal old wood siding painted a light robin’s egg blue and an immaculate lawn dotted with brightly colored kitschy ornaments, statues, and one very large pink bird bath in the center of it.

Not at all what Eddie had been expecting, for some reason.

Bags in hand, he headed up the walkway, assuming he’d be leaving the order on the front porch like usual, but as he got closer to the house the front door swung open and a man stepped out, padding determinately down the front steps.

His hair was slicked back, damp as though he were fresh from the shower, with a tight white tank top stretched across his ample chest, thick hair curling up over the neckline. To top it all off, the wet-dream look was completed with the most sinful pair of gray sweatpants imaginable, that did absolutely nothing to conceal the monster hiding beneath the deceptively plain fabric.

And his face?

Eddie nearly tripped over a garden gnome wearing a little rainbow cap because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man’s warm hazel eyes, pouty pink lips, chiselled jaw, and lightly tanned skin peppered with beauty marks.

Fuck he was pretty.

Almost intimidatingly so, and had Eddie run into the guy in any other setting he might have felt exactly that. Christ, if he looked this good bumming around at home he must have been an absolute knockout when he was dressed up for a night out. But right now like this, walking towards Eddie over the lawn with no shoes? He looked soft, sweet.

And exactly Eddie’s type.

“Steve?” He asked, just to be sure, and was rewarded with the sight of this beautiful adonis of a man grinning shyly, nodding yes as his cheeks flushed pink. 

Eddie melted on the spot. He’d always adored the idea of love at first sight, not that he’d ever admit that aloud. And really, there were far too many crazy stories of coincidences and chance first meetings floating around out there on Reddit and TikTok for it not to be a real thing for some, but he’d never been crazy enough to think it could happen to him. 

… Not that this was that. 

Love was a bit of a strong word for someone he’d met seconds ago, no matter how much of a romantic Eddie was at heart, but there was definitely some kind of instant attraction thing going on here, at the very least. And if the way Steve held his gaze, shivering in the warm night air when their hands brushed as Eddie passed him his bags was any indication, he wasn’t the only one feeling it.

It felt something like the way you might spot a cute guy or girl across the bar and know you were bound for a tryst in a public bathroom that night. But somehow also so much more than that. Did Eddie want to trace the bulging outline in Steve’s pants with his mouth, pull them down past hairy thighs with his teeth and see how far he could stuff what appeared to be an impressive length down his throat? 

Absolutely, he did. 

But he also wanted to hear about Steve’s hopes and dreams, learn his favorite candy, and color, and see what brand of trash TV he liked to watch while cuddling on the couch at night. Wanted to know what that stunning face looked like bathed in sunlight on a Saturday morning, sipping coffee at a table while Eddie stood at the stove making him pancakes.

Eddie swallowed hard, frozen in place by some force outside his control, fated to stand right there for the rest of his life under the hypnotic pull of a stranger's eyes, and was more than happy to do so.

It was Steve who moved first, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. With a little shake of his head he held out his free hand, a ten dollar bill tucked between two fingers. “I, uh, t-this is for you,” Steve stuttered out, a nervous giggle playing at the back of his throat. “I messed it up in the app, somehow. I’m not the best with technology.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed, reaching out, but instead of grasping the edge of the bill like he should have, he practically took Steve's entire hand in his own without thinking. Sparks crackled through his veins as though he’d gripped a live wire, his desire for the man in front of him growing tenfold at the simple touch. “Thank you, that—that’s really sweet of you.”

For a long beat, neither of them moved or let go, whatever spell had fallen over them still lingering in the air.

Again it was Steve who came to his senses first, biting his bottom lip as he gently took his hand back, letting go of the cash. “Sorry, I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he said, as though he were the one who’d held on and not the other way around.

“No it’s—” Eddie huffed a laugh, and knew exactly what he had to do. “Listen, this is going to sound so unprofessional but I know I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least ask for your number.”

Steve’s gaze dropped to the ground, his socked feet sliding over the grass as he rocked on his heels, before looking back up with another shy smile. “At the risk of sounding worse, would you like to come in for a drink… now?”

Eddie opened his mouth to agree instantly. How could he possibly pass up an opportunity like this? But then he thought of Wayne and the bills and found himself hesitating, glancing back at his van for a half-second, only to get quickly caught in the draw of Steve’s eyes again when he looked back.  

Fuck it, he could take a break for a while, even if it meant dashing into the wee hours later.

“Maybe not a drink since I have to drive, but if you’re willing to share that cake you got there, I think we could work something out.”

Steve swung open his front door, heart racing as he held it for the man following him inside.

Eddie.

His long-haired, doe-eyed, sent like an angel from heaven straight to his fucking house, smoking hot Doordash driver.

And those dimples?

Steve had never been so instantly, insanely, and completely enamored with someone in his entire life, relieved that the feeling seemed to be at least somewhat mutual considering the guy had asked for his number like that. He had no idea what had possessed him to invite Eddie in, it wasn’t like him to be so spontaneous or reckless these days, but he didn’t regret it. 

Robin was going to kill him.

With barely a glance down to make sure he didn’t miss, Steve dropped the bags with his dinner and beer on a nearby side table, his desire for food replaced now with an entirely different kind of hunger. He quickly turned to say god-knew-what to his unexpected guest, and instead found himself being crowded back against the wall, Eddie’s huge brown eyes and plush lips quickly filling his vision. 

“You’re even more gorgeous now that I can see you better,” Eddie said in a soft husky baritone, reaching up to smooth a bit of stray hair away from Steve’s face.

An embarrassing whine slipped from deep inside Steve’s throat, in reply. They’d hardly spoken, barely touched, and yet he was already half hard and out of his mind with how much he wanted the beautiful stranger in front of him.

As if they’d somehow choreographed it, they both surged forward at once, a perfect first touching of lips that, at least for Steve, rivaled every first kiss that had come before it. 

This whole thing was nuts, from chance meeting, to overwhelming crush at first sight, to kissing in a matter of minutes. 

“This is crazy,” Steve said when he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Eddie’s as he caught his breath.

Eddie too panted for air, smoothing his hands up and down Steve’s sides, a comforting touch that also made his skin break out in goosebumps. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”

“Good, good. Definitely good,” Steve blurted out quickly, swallowing his nerves. “I just… I never do things like this.” 

That had Eddie stilling his hands—which Steve hated—and pulling back a little—which Steve hated even more—to tilt his head, eyes full of concern. 

“Do you want to stop?”

Five simple words but with them came absolute sincerity. Steve did not know this man, but somehow he believed that he could end this right now and Eddie wouldn’t hold it against him, wouldn’t get mad and call him a prude or a tease.

It only made Steve want him more.

“Fuck no,” he said, with feeling, winding his hands into that mass of curly hair and bringing Eddie‘s mouth crashing into his again. 

Without ever really separating they both lost their shirts, and somehow Steve moved them as one from the living room, down the hall, and to his bedroom, crashing into the wall more than once, knocking a row of Robin’s old canvas painting askew where they hung.

The sight of the bed gave Steve pause for the second time that night, and had his lips slowing to a halt. He wasn’t lying when he told Eddie he didn’t usually do hookups, especially with guys, and he wasn’t sure what the protocol was when you didn’t know ahead of time if your partner preferred to top or bottom.

Like the perfect man he seemed to be so far, Eddie read him like a book, holding him close as he rubbed his back in soothing circles. 

“I’m verse so, whatever you want, Steve, it’s yours.” 

Of course, Steve knew exactly what he wanted, but time and bad experiences made him feel shy asking. “Me too, but I…” he tried, trailing off.

“Oh,” Eddie crooned. 

The hand kneading Steve’s lower back slipped past the waistband of his pants as Eddie reached down to squeeze his ass, one finger sliding over his hole.

Steve whimpered, arching into the small dry touch.

“You need it bad, don’t you, baby?” Eddie asked, without a hint of teasing, as if he understood the feeling.

Steve could only roll his hips, making more needy little sounds in answer.

Eddie pressed a kiss to his forehead, gently coaxing him to sit down on the bed. “How about you lay back and let me take care of you then. Okay, sweetheart?”

Steve did as he was told, sliding back across the sheets of his unmade bed while Eddie kicked off his shoes and followed, settling between his legs. He already felt more at ease with this man he barely knew than he ever had in the almost three years he’d wasted on Tommy.

For a moment Eddie laid his full weight on top of him, bare chest to bare chest, capturing his mouth in another dizzying kiss, Eddie’s tongue exploring the depths of his mouth like he was licking up the remnants of chocolate syrup in the bottom of a sundae, moaning at the taste.

Eddie was incredibly hard where he was pressed to Steve’s hip, grinding in time with the swirls of his tongue. He also felt absolutely huge, and though dry humping was very hot and severely underrated, Steve couldn’t wait to feel Eddie inside him.

With an almost painful, teasing slowness, Eddie began to slide down Steve’s body, that clever mouth working its way down his neck and chest, each touch of lips a searing heat, tongue tracing a wet line down the length of his happy trail until it met the band of his pants. Only then did Eddie lift up, sitting back on his heels as he gripped the waist of Steve's sweats, gently tugging them down and off, tossing the bundle to the other side of the bed.

The air hitting him where he was suddenly bare was a bit of a shock, but it was nothing to the weight of Eddie’s gaze as he looked down at Steve’s body, a reverence in his eyes as he took it all in that made Steve want to weep. He wasn’t sure any other partner had looked at him quite like that before.

“Beautiful,” Eddie murmured quietly, and in a mirror of before now began making his way back up, beginning with a tender kiss to Steve’s knee.

Steve sucked air through his teeth, lost in sensation as Eddie alternated between biting and pressing open mouthed kisses to the delicate skin of his inner thigh, moving closer and closer to his center until there was a quick flick of a tongue over his hole.

Just once, the warm wet touch of it there and gone so fast it could have been dismissed as an accident if Eddie hadn’t looked up after, heavily lidded eyes boring into Steve’s own as he asked the question.

“Can I?”

Steve’s mouth fell open, Tommy would never—

No. 

No, he wasn’t going to think about that asshole anymore, not when he had someone right here eyeing him up like he was the pièce de résistance of a gourmet meal. God, where had this man been all his life?

“You want to?”

Eddie chuckled. “When I said I wanted your cake, I wasn’t exactly talking about dessert.” 

With a raise of his brow Eddie ducked back down, licking a wet stripe from Steve’s taint to the base of his cock, hands sliding beneath his ass, hoisting him up for better access.

“Oh fuck.”

Steve writhed, head thrashing, his hands twisting into the sheets around him as his trembling knees found their resting place on top of Eddie’s shoulders. They were just getting started and he already wanted to live there forever with Eddie’s head nestled between his thighs.

With that reaction Eddie dove in with gusto, his tongue circling Steve’s rim over and over, making his hole flutter with each lingering pass. It felt incredible, but the sounds Eddie made as he feasted were equally as divine, making it clear that he was enjoying himself as much as Steve was.

And Steve was enjoying himself, thoroughly, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-cum onto his belly while his mouth released a flood of whorish sounds he’d never heard himself produce before.

It only worsened when Eddie’s talented tongue pushed its way inside for the first time. Steve would owe his neighbors an apology in the morning, but as Eddie breached his hole again, pushing it deeper still while finally setting him down to take hold of his aching cock, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Eddie took it slow, switching up the rhythm of his hand as he worked Steve over, keeping him right on that precarious edge, all the while taking turns between laving over the ring of puckered skin with long wet strokes, and fucking into him with the tip of his hot tongue.

As mind blowing as it was, it wasn’t long before Steve found himself wanting more, needing more, needing Eddie to hurry up and fuck him already. He must have made a sound of frustration, that or Eddie was some kind of mind-reader, because the moment he was about to break down and beg for it he felt two fingers, slick with spit, start working him open. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve chanted, fucking himself down as best he could now that he had some leverage to work with, pleased when Eddie spurred him on.

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

Eddie kept pumping his fingers, adding a third and meeting Steve thrust for thrust until Steve’s chants and moans turned to desperate babbling pleas.

“Condoms?” Eddie asked, pressing a kiss to the hollow of Steve’s groin as he slowed the movements of his hand to a stop, pulling his fingers free as gently as he could.

Chest heaving, Steve fought to catch his breath. He gestured vaguely at his nightstand, ignoring the suddenly empty feeling as his stretched hole clenched around nothing, trusting he’d be full again soon.

“Be right back, gorgeous.” 

With one more sugary sweet brush of lips to his hip, Eddie slipped off the bed, shedding his jeans and boxers in one smooth motion before digging through the small drawer, quickly finding what they needed.

Steve took the chance to look his fill as Eddie climbed back onto the bed, the sight of the heavy cock swaying between his legs making his mouth water, and making him wish he’d stripped Eddie down himself and taken the chance to explore his body in kind. There were a pair of tattoos low on his hips that held a particular interest. 

Next time, he thought. 

If there was a next time.

And then Eddie was lining himself up and pushing inside, and Steve couldn’t think of anything at all. 

They’d done enough prep that the head popped right in, but Eddie was big, bigger than any cock or toy Steve had taken before and by the time Eddie was fully seated inside he was so full he felt like he might split in two, in the best way possible. 

Eddie stayed there, perfectly still, letting Steve adjust for so long that Steve was afraid he’d never move, but he shouldn't have been worried. Eddie had promised to take care of him and it seemed he was taking that vow seriously, or maybe his seemingly endless patience had finally run out. After a slow experimental thrust that sent Steve’s mouth falling open in pleasure, he set a brutal pace, the sound of their bodies like a raucous round of applause. Music to Steve’s ears.

He knew right away wasn’t going to last at this rate, it’d simply been too long and he was too turned on to start with. Thankfully he could feel Eddie pulsing inside him each time he slammed to the hilt, and knew the other man was just as close to his tipping point. 

Soon the familiar thrumming pleasure began to build under Steve’s skin, filling him up with each slap of their bodies together until he could no longer hold it in anymore. He came untouched with the strangled cry of Eddie’s name on his lips, and starbursts flashing across his vision. It went on for what seemed like forever, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over him while Eddie continued to fuck him hard through it, hitting his prostate with every thrust as he chased his own orgasm until he finally followed Steve over that delicious edge. 

Neither moved until Eddie softened, slipping out of Steve with ease as he moved away, tying off the condom before dropping it to the floor. 

With their breaths slowing and the dust settling, and the overwhelming sense of desire fully satiated, Steve expected to feel awkward, but it was hard to feel anything but content when Eddie rolled back over and pulled him into his side, humming happily, kissing his hair as Steve rested on his head on his chest,

“God, where have you been all my life,” Eddie mumbled with his lips still pressed to Steve’s temple.

Steve froze, going rigid in Eddie’s embrace, stunned to hear him give voice to the same thought he’d had earlier.

“Shit,” Eddie cursed softly. “Did I say that out loud?”

Slowly Steve raised his head, silently nodding when he couldn’t seem to unstick his suddenly tight throat. 

“Sorry,“ Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he tried to sit up. “I—I get it, I can go if you—”

“Don’t—” Steve pressed a hand to Eddie's chest, forcing him back down, searching his face for some sign that he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself. Though, he was pretty sure Eddie was worth the risk. “Please tell me that means this wasn’t a one time thing, that you feel it too?”

He wasn’t even sure what it was, this strange connection they seemed to have, without ever meeting before. He only knew it had grown stronger with every kiss, every caress, every drop of fluids they’d wrung from each other’s bodies.

Eddie sagged, melting into the bed, a relieved smile curling his lips as he reached up to cup Steve’s cheek. “Steve, baby, I felt it the second I laid eyes on you. I meant it when I asked for your number outside. I know we kinda took the next step already, but I'd love to take you out. I want to do this right, get to know each other, win you over with my unconventional charms in the hopes one day we could make this official.”

Steve smiled back, feeling practically giddy as he leaned into Eddie’s tender touch, processing his words. It was everything he could have wanted to hear and more, except.

Why wait for all that?

“Or I could be your boyfriend now,” Steve countered. “And we could let the rest of it work itself out later?”

“Deal,” Eddie said with zero hesitation, pulling him in for a deep lingering kiss to seal it. 

“What were the candles for?” Eddie asked after a while. 

They’d been cuddling in comfortable silence for so long that Steve was pretty sure he’d drifted off a few times.

“Hmm?” he hummed, stirred by the question, totally blanking for a moment until it all came rushing back. His horrible day, that had completely melted away once Eddie showed up and turned his world upside down.

“Oh god,” he groaned, shame curling in his gut, even though he knew that was stupid. “It’s, um… It’s sorta my birthday? And I was feeling really bummed about spending it alone since my roommate and best friend just moved away. So, I thought I'd get some birthday candles to put in a slice of cake to cheer myself up, and...”

Yeah, it didn’t sound any better when he said it out loud, but if they were really doing this he couldn’t exactly not tell Eddie that today was his birthday. He'd find out eventually.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Eddie said without pity, dropping more of his wonderful kisses to the top of Steve’s head.

“I get it, y’know,” Eddie went on. ”Being lonely. I have my uncle at home but my best friend moved to Indy a few months ago and life hasn’t been the same without her in my business all the time.”

Steve huffed an incredulous laugh. “That’s where my roommate moved too. Small world.” 

As if she could somehow sense that he was thinking about her, because it had to be Robin calling, Steve’s phone began to vibrate where it laid on the edge of the bed, sticking halfway out of his pants pocket. With a groan he sat up, missing Eddie’s warmth immediately, and reached for it. He meant to simply silence the call and give his attention back to the brand new boyfriend in his bed, until he saw the literal dozens of text messages and missed video calls from her.

With an apologetic glance at Eddie he quickly tapped the button to answer her incoming facetime.

“Stephen. Marie. Harrington,” she growled through gritted teeth. “You’d better be dying in a ditch somewhere or I swear to god—” she cut herself off suddenly, eyes narrowing as she stared into her phone. “Are you in bed right now? Why are you in bed at 9 o’clock?”

Steve bit his lip, looking over again at Eddie who shrugged as if to say, it’s up to you.

“I… kinda met someone?”

“How did you meet someone without leaving your…” she trailed off slowly, a look of dawning horror coming over her face. “Oh god, don’t tell me you rejoined the dating apps.”

“It was DoorDash, actually.”

Robin blinked at him. “... What?”

“Nevermind.” Steve tilted his phone, holding it further away as he panned the camera over to get both of them in the shot. “Um, this is Eddie,” 

“Hi Steve’s best friend!” Eddie said with a grin and a wave, the rumpled sheets still pooled around his hips leaving his glistening, sweat and other bodily fluid coated chest on full display. He was definitely not shy.

Steve was obsessed with him.

Suddenly Robin was gone, as if someone had ripped the phone out of her hand, the shaky picture flipping from a far off view of a small kitchen, to a white ceiling, and then to a close up of Chrissy’s face, her mouth agape.

“Eddie?!”

“Chris—what? How?!” Eddie sat up abruptly, pulling the sheets up as if he was suddenly scandalized, eyes wide with pure shock. “Steve… Is your lesbian best friend, my lesbian best friend’s girlfriend?”

“I guess so?” Steve said in a baffled haze, before being hit with a sudden realization. He glared into his phone's camera. “Is Eddie the guy you kept wanting to set me up with?”

Chrissy held a hand over her mouth, giggling uncontrollably as she nodded. 

Holy shit. 

It really was a small world.

Steve sighed heavily, “tell Robin I'll text her tomorrow,” ending the call as Chrissy’s giggling turned into a wheezing guffaw. He tossed his phone unceremoniously onto the nightstand, turning back to the grinning man at his side.

“So, we could have been doing this for weeks?”

“Afraid so, sweetheart.” Eddie threw the sheet aside once more, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “If it’s any consolation I had no idea.”

“You know what? I’m glad we found each other on our own.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed, swinging a leg over Eddie’s hips to settle in his lap, the possibility of going for a round two already in the back of his mind. “My own special delivery, right to my door. It’s a much better story.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement making his eyes sparkle in the dim light. “Are you sure it’s not because now they can’t lord it over us that they set us up and we hit it off?”

Steve shrugged, leaning in to lick across Eddie’s mouth, wondering idly how long the appropriate time to wait would be before he could ask him to move in. 

“That’s a pretty good perk too.”

Many thanks to @penny00dreadful and @sidekick-hero for all your beta work, cheerleading, and handholding! 💜

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @sidekick-hero @firefly-party @bookworm0690

@wonderland-girl143-blog  @goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

@hitlikehammers

[etherealrin]

hii! so I just found out the guy I was talking to wasn’t taking anything seriously 😭😭 so could I request something about rin x fem!reader where he comforts her and maybe secretly had a crush on her the whole time? like maybe she tells him about it and how the guy admitted to saying really nice things he didn’t even mean? and how he also said “we’ll see” like ???? I’m still so appalled HAHAHAHA

HAHAHA not my request being too realistic 😭 but no pressure!! you can ignore it too :)

- 💫

ᯓ★ stability.

itoshi rin will always be there for you, even if you feel like no one is.

warnings: mild angst to comfort // wc: 700

note: fem!reader, hurt to comfort

rin hates it.

he hates it when he's forced to sit and watch you cry over some shitty guy, he hates watching you shrink into the despair, and he hates that someone so lukewarm dared to hurt your feelings. and of course, right now he holds the most hate for the asshole that had caused all of this.

he stares at you as you hug your knees to your chest. rin's never been the best at comforting people; especially when it came to you, because he couldn't tell you his honest thoughts.

he sighs and sits down in the space beside you, the two of you hunched over on his plush sofa. he had been concerned when you'd called him asking if you could come over—not giving an explanation when he asked for one. rin gently wraps an arm around your shaking figure as you sob your eyes out.

"so," he begins, voice barely above a whisper. "what happened?"

"r-rin, he," your words are cut off by sniffles. rin silently hands you a tissue, which you accept gratefully. "he lied." you finally manage, an image of the guy you'd been entertaining for the last few months flashing in your mind.

"what do you mean?" rin's trying to keep his voice flat, to not let his outrage manifest.

"i guess he just wasn't serious about me, or about anything." you sigh, and rin's heart drops with the sound. "he apparently didn't mean much of what he said, when he complimented me or whatever, he just wanted to see how i'd react. as if i'm some doll," you scoff bitterly.

"...i'll kill him." rin hadn't meant to say it aloud, but the familiar phrase slips from his lips, dripping with acidity. the threat makes your mouth twist up, just a bit, as you giggle quietly. "what's so funny?" rin turns to look at you. you look beautiful; so much more than perfect, even if you were a bit red and teary-eyed, mascara smudging faint black lines around your eyelid.

"you're so reliable rin," your voice is wistful, sounding like you're lost within the walls of your own thoughts. "you say the same thing about all of my exes. you're always here for me."

oh, rin could name a million other ways he could be there for you: he waits for you each morning at the bus stop, he always texts to make sure you've eaten well, drops off coffee to your place when you're overloaded with work, and he'd do so much more if it would make you smile.

"i'd be different," he mutters. rin can feel your gaze settle on him, confusion rolling off you in waves.

"huh?" fuck it.

"i never lie when i tell you that you're absolutely breathtaking, because you are. i wouldn't mess with your emotions, because i care about you. i would give you the universe and the galaxy. i'd care about you more than any of your exes did, i'd-" rin falters, catching your expression out of the corner of his eye. your mouth is parted in a perfect little "o" as the reality of rin's words sink in.

for a minute it's pure, stifling silence between you two. the last thing he expects is for you to lean back into his chest, exhaling deeply.

"rin," you start. his breathtaking teal eyes stare back at you, afraid to say another word. "i- i didn't realize you felt that way too."

rin's breath hitches.

"forget about him, forget about all of them, please."

"i don't deserve you," your voice is small and raw around the edges, eyes glued to the floor.

"no, you don't. you're right." rin's words hit you like a truck. "you deserve so much more than me. i know i'm not perfect, but if you give me time i," he breathes, words spilling out like a bleeding cut. "i can work on it, i swear."

itoshi rin has always been your stability, your confidant, your white knight—but he can't live with just that now.

maybe, this time, he might come out as something more.

a/n: oml hi star anonnnn! + wtf i'm so sorry that happened to u i've been in ur place too, just know that you're 100x more special than you can even fathom and boys (the bad ones) aren't shit! i hope ur doing okay <3

ılılılılılılı now playing: stability by oceanfromtheblue, star shopping by lil peep, ykwim? by yot club

masterlist.

[lilscandybowl]

                             ˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖ 

Mark would be a hamster dad. He would want to see them every night. He would call their name as soon as he sees them. Feeding them way too many treats of freeze-dried chicken or mealworms. He once did try to feed them an unhealth treat and you ended up sitting him down and went over hamster care. The right hamster care. 

After that, He was right away coming home with flowers, not for you but for the hamster to be able to forage through. The hamster would sit on his lap while he was on a game and when he comes home from a fight. You would often find him holding the hamster in a way to calm down. 

He can’t stand it when the hamster pouches food in her cheek but he loves watching her roll in the sand. Yeah, he would pick her up, show her around, and introduce her to any other animal you own.

                             ˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖ 

“What is that?” Mark asked from behind you as you let him into your room. 

“i told you, i have a hamster” you turn back to give him a weird look. You know Mark for a few months now and was pretty much happy with him. He was everything you liked in a guy, total golden retriever. You watch as he moves closer to the cage looking confused. 

“i just didn’t know you could get cages that big "Mark stated as he look at you. “i mean I'm pretty sure the cage i use to have for mine was like” He made a size with his arms. “With lots of tubes” He was describing your nightmare cage. 

“Well, Minx deserves a big cage.” You comment as you move towards him. “You want to see her?” Mark just stares at you looking excited. You lift up the lid to the cage. “She likes to hide in her bedding. So, give me a second” You just start scooping parts up slowly as Mark watch you. You felt her in the palm of your hand and you pick her up. It was worth waking up her up just to see Mark’s face light up. 

“She is so small” Mark explains looking a bit closer. “She just a baby” You laughed at his little coos at her.  

“She is over a year, babe. Put your hands out” you said and watch Mark look nervous. He started to play with his own hands. 

“I just don't want to hurt her” He muttered out. You look at him. You were pretty sure this man couldn’t even hurt a fly even with his powers.  

“You won't” You move one of your hands to meet his and get him to stop. “i promise” His eyes met yours as he mutters ok. You place your hand against his and let her walk onto him. 

In that moment, you saw his heart melt. You knew that you most likely wasn’t his number one anymore and you didn’t mind that. 

                             ˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖ 

The hamster is a standard Russian hamster based on my old girl. She was the best. My boyfriend and I loved her to pieces. Please make sure you are following the right info for hamsters.

[pauline-sunshine]

Suchwidate

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female actress reader

Summary: After being a guest on Suchwita something bloomed

Genre: fluff (like tooth rotting fluff…I warned you), slow-burn (maybe?)

Warnings: they are shy and idiots but kinda adorable

Word count: 1,5k

Author’s note: I apologize for any errors! English is not my first language. Thank you so so much for your comments and likes..i literally cried. Not so happy with this part but I decided to post it anyway. Also, it’s quite unedited, sorry!!

After the Suchwita episode was released the comments section went wild:

‘So we definitely just watched them on a real date trying to act like it’s an interview’

‘They are so grumpy x sunshine coded I caaan’t’

‘My head: they’re performers, my heart: they’re soulmates’

‘If these two ended up together it would be one of the greatest entertainment love stories ever’

‘Pls go on a date without the cameras and fall in love and don’t tell anyone about it and just live happily ever after u both deserve it’

————

Your day was about to be busy as you were invited to the fundraising charity event. That meant waking up at 6 am, getting ready and- ‘Wait, no,no,no, why is it 9 am?’ The grasp of realization, ‘I SLEPT IN’. And just like that the hunger games of getting-ready-and-arriving-on-time began.

“Hey,” you opened the door of your apartment and let in your manager and stylist in.

“Why do you look like…” the woman was unsure what words to use.

“Like I just woke up? Because I did,” you covered your face in embarrassment.

“Y/N, you will be the death of me. Let’s get you ready,” your manager sighed.

Make up and hair were done, it was time to choose un outfit and the selection that was offered didn’t make you happy. You decided to go with an elegant strapless mini black dress.

“I’m not sure,” you were staring in a mirror, “Isn’t it too..revealing?” You wanted to feel comfortable and confident especially on important events like this.

“I think it looks great on you, besides you didn’t like any other dress. So, you kinda have no choice,” the stylist scanned you once again from top to bottom.

“Black dress it is then.” You faked a smile. You were running late and there was no time for tantrums.

Everything seemed to be going wrong at that point: sleeping in, the dress, running late except one little text that you received while driving to the event. It felt like a ray of sunshine peeking through stormy clouds:

Yoongi

Hello, Y/N. Again, thank you so much for coming to my show. The feedback is good. I heard that you were also invited to the charity event. See you there.

You

Heeeey!! hahhah, The pleasure was mine!!! Yes, I will be there too! Didn’t know you were going though…But yeah, see you there!!

‘Why did I have to put so many exclamation marks. Aggghh, Y/N, you’re a certified idiot,’ you thought to yourself.

Yoongi’s body was present and sitting in a big concert hall of the event next to other six members but his mind was elsewhere. He was scanning the crowd for what felt like a hundredth time just in hopes to spot the girl that has been on his mind since the day of the interview.

“Yoongi, what do you think?” Jungkook tried to include Suga to the conversation.

“What?” Obviously he wasn’t listening. He frowned and made a slightly unhappy face as though he was distracted from something important.

“Where are you flying? I said, what do you think— It’s her! Guys, it’s her!” He called attention of the other members while slightly pointing at you across the room.

“What are you talking about,” the irritation in Yoongi’s voice started to rise.

“Look!” Jungkook pushed Yoongi in order for him to turn and at that moment all his worries melted because he saw you.

Obviously, the minute you left the studio that day Yoongi texted to their group chat how professional, talented and kind you were, but they all knew what he really meant behind those words. And now you were interest number one for all of them: they wanted to see the girl who turned Yoongi into a ball of fur.

You were accompanied by a stuff member who was showing you the way. Because (guess what) of the fact that you were late your seat was kinda assigned to other person.

“Is it okay if we sit you right there,” the stuff member pointed to the further part of the sector.

“Anywhere will be fine. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience that I caused you.” One thought was running through your mind: never EVER to be late again.

“Don’t worry, just follow me. Judging by the scheme, there are a few seats left in the second row, next to the band BTS. I’m afraid I can’t accompany you that far because of the cameras but just follow that luminescent line on the floor.”

“What is happening? Where are they taking her?” Yoongi watched as you were passing by other guests and bowing along the way.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Look, I think they’re leading her to…us?” Jungkook tried to reassure him.

“Thank you.” As you turned to say that the stuff member was gone and you were, well, lost. ‘Where the heck is that line? My dress is killing me! Shall I just leave? Second row? BTS? Oh god, am I gonna sit next to BTS?’ The panic was growing inside you.

“I think she’s lost” as Jungkook turned to say that he only saw an empty seat and Yoongi’s back moving further away.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you okay?” A familiar voice on your right brought you back to life.

“Yonngi, thank god, how did you find me. I’m such a mess. I’m so lost. I arrived late and they said I had to change my sit and-“ you were chattering and twisting your fingers because of the nerves.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he gently placed both of his hands on your shoulders to calm you down and bring you back to reality. “What did the stuff member tell you? I will help you to find your seat,” he said in a calm deep voice accompanied by his soft eyes. That moment he swore he would do anything to protect and comfort you.

“Oh, well, he said that there was a seat. In a second row. Next to BTS.” You murmured the last sentence quietly and slightly turning away from him because the feeling of his soft touch on your skin left a blooming blush on your cheeks.

“Then, we have to go because the show is about to start.” That moment he thanked every single deity for this chance to spend time with you although he didn’t show it. He just let go of your shoulders and led you.

“They’re coming! Act cool!” Jungkook ordered to others.

“Say that to yourself,” Taehyung laughed at him.

When you both reached your destination Yoongi introduced you to the boys.

“This is Y/N, my…special friend.” He looked at you and his gaze softened.

“It’s such an honor to meet you guys,” you bowed your head to them and they did the same.

As you and Yoongi sat you noticed Hobi poked out behind Jungkook in order to talk to you. “Y/N, please tell me there is a second season of your latest show. They had no right to end it like that without making an announcement of a sequel!” He whined a little bit.

“Well, my contract doesn’t allow me to talk but maybe there is something coming soon. Or maybe there isn’t,” you laughed a bit. He perfectly understood your hint.

“Ahhhh, I can’t wait,” he smiled being very pleased with your answer.

Yoongi was following every single movement you made while you talking to his friends.

The show began. You and Yoongi sat together and discussed performances and every unfunny joke that hosts made. You both felt how natural it was to be real around each other and that was precious.

“I’m glad you came,” the whispered and subconsciously slightly leaned toward you.

“I thought this would be another dull event but I’m glad I have this awful habit of being late,” you laughed and turned to him. The distance between your faces was small and you noticed how his gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips and back. Your heart made a backflip and with the speed of light you turned your head back to face the stage. Yoongi slightly chuckled.

The official part of the ceremony was over and it was the time for the after party.

“I see you later, okay? We need to do an interview,” Yoongi explained almost as if he was sorry.

“It’s fine. I also have to find my manager,” you smiled. Neither of you wanted to go but duties are duties. You bowed to all of the seven men and reunited with your manager.

“Are you ready? I have to introduce you to a lot of people.” The manager asked while you both were on the way to the after party area.

“Do I have a choice?” You sighed and only wished to see Yoongi as soon as possible.

[mia-can-yap-too]

yukimiya who had always admired you from afar.

yukimiya who always made sure you felt included whenever there were group projects.

yukimiya who had a massive crush on you but was too much of a coward to approach you.

yukimiya who would daydream about you so much that his friends started teasing him.

yukimiya who had defended you when his friend, otoya, talked shit behind your back, calling you a loner and deeming you weird. He had insisted that no one would ever go out with you.

yukimiya who was struggling to keep his composure when otoya kept going on.

yukimiya who insisted that you were a good and kind person, that anyone who got the chance to be with you would be incredibly lucky, which led to otoya betting that yukimiya wouldn’t last a month with you.

yukimiya who was determined to prove him wrong, and so accepted the bet.

yukimiya who decided that he would use this opportunity to actually win you over, and therefore, kill two birds with one stone.

yukimiya who finally got the courage to start sitting next to you regularly.

yukimiya who would always lend you his notes or a spare pen if you ever needed it.

yukimiya who started spending his lunches with you, while making sure his presence didn’t make you uncomfortable.

yukimiya who would ask the teacher about whatever you were confused about, so you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

yukimiya who asked if you wanted to go to the local bookstore together later. yukimiya who was elated when you actually said yes.

yukimiya who then started going on study dates, movie nights, grocery runs, anything and everything with you, just so he could spend more time with you.

yukimiya who finally confessed to you one night when you were stargazing together, who kissed as if he wouldn’t never get the chance again when you reciprocated his feelings.

yukimiya who couldn’t go a sentence without mentioning you. “Cheesecakes? Oh, my girlfriend loves them! Actually, I should buy a slice for her when we go to that cafe again….”

yukimiya who would get you things that reminded him of you, like a pretty crystal of your favorite color or a keychain of your favorite character. yukimiya who wouldn’t expect anything in return.

yukimiya who had totally forgotten about the bet.

That is until you found out about it.

yukimiya who couldn’t look you in the eyes out of shame.

yukimiya who’s heart broke to see you cry the way you did.

yukimiya who tried to explain himself to you, but you wouldn’t listen.

yukimiya who froze when you asked if any of it was ever real, some unknown force turning his tongue into stone.

yukimiya who wanted to chase after you after you stormed out. yukimiya who was too heavy with guilt to actually do so.

yukimiya who had lost you.

yukimiya who was just too much of a coward.

a/n:- why do guys always have to shut up when it matters the most. also to beep, this applies to everyone BUT you cuz you deserve the nicest and best yukimiya-type guy in the world.

take a look at my masterlist!

[getaapologist]

The Geta x Servant!Reader lore just keeps getting better and better 😍😭 If it ever strikes your fancy, I would love to see what happens if someone else (a bold servant or a drunk senator perhaps) tried to put their hands on her. Or literally anything else you want to write because I will continue eating it up and enjoying every moment of it!

More servant!reader because why not? We all deserve happiness.

[ Prior entry in the servant!reader blurb saga here ]

Loud, boisterous laughter. Soft music filtering in, a cool evening that drew the guests out into the gardens. 

The stars were bright pinpricks of light above, the sky clear.

Large hands gripped your calves, your ankles, your legs strewn across Geta’s lap. He was deep in conversation with a senator, who thought the wine and merriment might make Geta more amenable to whatever his desires were.

Or perhaps, having you in his lap would do the trick. 

If there was any discomfort in your legs, it would have been worked out quickly as Geta kneaded your muscles. 

“Emperor?” you whispered, not wanting to interrupt him, but greatly desiring one of the sweet cakes back in the main room.

He didn’t take his eyes off the Senator, but gave your ankle a squeeze, as if he sensed you wished to get up. His touch returned the shackle, but it was no longer a burden or a restraint. It was a soft band of silk, a tether, a way back to him. 

His hands left your legs and he glanced over as you slid off his lap, his eyes raking over you. “Do not be long, little lamb.”

The grass was cold beneath your bare feet, and the stone floor was even colder still. Geta had stolen your sandals earlier, deft fingers pulling at the thin leather cords keeping them on.

Still, your destination was just ahead, the table piled high with sweets and other things. You took your time, adding things to a small plate that you enjoyed, but also things you knew Geta particularly liked, just in case he wanted something. 

“I have not seen you at these gatherings before, for I would surely remember you.” The voice carried a smile with it, and you looked up, laying eyes on a man you did not recognize, clad in the white robes of a senator. “What is your name?” 

The smell of the bitter wine on his breath was unavoidable. You could see the slight sway in his posture as he stood, emboldened by the alcohol.

You knew better, you knew this was a situation you wanted to avoid. You missed the protective aura that Geta provided. You felt untouchable when with him. You wished you could tug on that tether, bring Geta over. But in lieu of that, you tried to remain polite as you dismissed his interest. “I must go, excuse me.”

A firm, unrelenting grip wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you, pulling you back to where he stood, his brows drawn together in barely veiled frustration.

“You refuse to answer me?”

“You really shouldn’t do that,” Caracalla warned, his voice lilting as an amused grin spread across his face. "That's his favorite." He approached the table, loading up a small plate of his own as if this confrontation were not occurring.

You could not ask Caracalla to intervene, You did not enjoy the same latitude with him as you did with his brother. You could only bring your arms up to try to shield yourself from the man’s prying eyes.

The hand at your arm tightened its grip, yanking you forward. The plate in your hands fell to the floor with a loud clatter, drawing all attention to where you stood.

Embarrassment and fear filled you, remnants of your former work not feeling so distant now as you looked down at the mess on the floor. You longed to scoop it up, lamenting the wasted sweet cakes.

“You will unhand her, senator!” Geta spoke, his voice laden with fury.

Before the man could, his hand was wrenched away from you, his breath leaving his lungs in a forceful huff as he was pushed up against a nearby column. Your skin burned painfully where the man’s hand had been. 

Caracalla leaned against the table nearby, watching with great amusement.

Geta raged, the halls echoing with his threats. His face and throat were bright red, neck flexing, veins prominent. You overheard something about being fed to lions before you needed a distraction from the attention.

Discomfort overwhelming, you knelt down to the floor, scooping the ruined cakes onto the empty plate in an effort to forestall the tears. The cakes were so destroyed, they were in small pieces, your hands growing quite messy as you attempted to clean them up.

“Leave it,” Geta whispered, his large hands stilling yours. The sticky sweet mess did not bother him, his large brown eyes worried. As he saw your expression, he moved his palms to your cheeks, urging you to look at him.

Shame burned through you, as if this was all your fault. “I am sorry, Emperor.”

Geta shook his head, anger in his expression, though it was not directed at you. “No, little lamb,” he whispered. “This is not your fault.” His tenderness was almost shocking after the volley of verbal abuse he’d just spewed at the senator. 

Geta stood, orders leaving his reddened throat. The senator was cast out, never to be invited again. The mess was cleaned up, a fresh plate laden with more sweets sent to his chambers. He even managed to ignore Caracalla’s derisive chuckling as he used a wet cloth to clean the both of your fingers.

“Cheer up, little lamb,” he smiled softly, nudging your chin with his knuckle. His large chestnut eyes watched you, eventually falling to the arm where the man had grabbed you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, reaching for his wrist. His eyes flitted down to the point of contact before meeting yours again, something else in his gaze.

He seemed to hesitate, something unexpected causing him to falter for a moment. And only a moment. Hunger surfaced in his eyes, his desire to smooth things over, to get you to forget about the handsy senator surely at the forefront of his mind. “Come, let me feed you all the cake you care to enjoy, mea mellitula.”

A/N: 'mea mellitula' is roughly my honey. Maybe we forgot about the finger incident, but clearly Geta didn't.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: Epilogue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which it all ends

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: You know....I never find it hard to say goodbye to the characters I've written so far, until this. Latibule has such a hold on me. I'm both sad and at peace now that their story has come to an end. Thank you soooo much for staying with me til the end. I hope you know you loving this story change my life as an author <3

Masterlist, Latibule 2.VIII

Epilogue

Min Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi was someone who believed that no one could change his destiny but himself. He was someone who strongly believed that his will alone could change his fate.

No. Scratch that, he was someone who was hardly a believer of destiny.

He believed in himself.

He could change anything to his own gain, manipulate any situation that would best benefit him and remove anyone that he deemed to be a hindrance to his goals.

He firmly believed in all those things. So why then couldn’t he shake you off? Why then couldn’t he pull himself away from you when you were a glaring outlier in his world?

You were just one good Samaritan who saved the devil himself, unknowing that by doing so would change the trajectory of your life. Not knowing that by doing so would inevitably entangle your life so tightly with him.

Had you not saved him that night, he was certain he would have never known what it felt like to touch heaven.

Had you not shown him softness, he would have gone in his merry way as he destroyed everything that crossed his path.

You didn’t belong in his world. You were everything good, everything pure, that he never should have even dared to want. And yet, here he was—staying in a house filled with warmth he didn’t know he’d been missing, warmth he didn’t deserve. Yet, here he was, ingraining his own self to your life as though he had a place in it. Yet…here he was, pretending to be a good man for you.

If you didn’t belong with him, why then did he think of you as an angel to his evilness? Why then couldn’t he tear himself away from you?

Why then when Seokjin showed up in that place did he feel that crippling anxiety that you would leave him if you knew who he really was?

Why then did he feel panic like never before with the thought of you leaving him?

Why then did he choose to stay with you instead of returning to his world?

You were a conundrum to his plans. A riddle he couldn’t solve.

And yet, he couldn’t help but love you. He couldn’t help but consume you.  He couldn’t help but give you every good left in him. He couldn’t help but tie you so tightly with him that leaving him would hurt the two of you. He couldn’t help but feel his heart thaw at every softness you showed him.

If you could love someone like him, then maybe…maybe he wasn’t a lost cause, right? Maybe he was still redeemable. Maybe, he too deserved to be happy.

But then, destiny that he didn’t believe in deemed it necessary to snatch you away from his grasp. Fate made him suffer, reminding him that he was powerless despite how strong he thought himself to be. Providence ripped you away from his grasp.

He ridiculously thought of himself as invincible, as someone who was too powerful to even think that all the things he did in the past would eventually come for him.

All evidence pointed out that you were gone in this world, that you went somewhere he couldn’t follow. Those things meant nothing to him. He thoroughly believed that he would feel it in his fucking heart if you were truly gone. But that bastardly thing kept on beating. If your heart stopped beating, shouldn’t his have, too? However, despite his unwavering belief that he would find you again, the silence of your absence was more deafening than he ever could have imagined.

When he found you again, he couldn’t understand how he could feel such a mixture of relief and sorrow. The sight of you—broken, lost in a way he hadn’t prepared for—shattered something deep inside him. He hadn’t seen the signs. He failed to see the signs that he, himself, should have been the first to see. The signs of your failing eyesight, the small, subtle shifts in your behavior, the way you had been fading without him even noticing. It was in the way you looked at the stars each night without fail as though you were committing them to memory. It was in the way you looked at him each night and gently touch his face when you thought he was asleep.

The truth that you’d suffered alone, that you must have felt powerless as your vision dimmed over the years, was a weight he wasn’t ready to carry.

The truth that you had gone all through that, all while giving birth to his son and raising him alone was unimaginable. You went through all that while under Hoseok’s manipulation.

He could fix this, he told himself. Regardless of the situation, he would give you back your sight because you gave him peace.

But then he realized you had given him more than just love, more than just peace—you had given him something he never thought possible: a family of his own. And in that moment, he swore to himself that he would give you everything, as long as you stayed by his side.

He could feel it now—he was finally grasping everything he’d ever wanted, so close he could almost touch it.

But then, the darkness of his past caught up with him. Was this what they called karma? Was this fate’s cruel way of showing him that the water was always within reach, but he could never quite quench his thirst?

He had just gotten you back, and now, he was losing you again.

But, as he always believed, Min Yoongi was someone who never lost to fate, more so now that he knew he had a family of his on to protect.

-

You didn’t know what woke you up from your deep slumber.

Was it your body telling you that you needed to get up because someone desperately needed you?

Was it the voices floating around urging you to open your eyes?

Was it the heavy pain in your heart that was begging you to stay alive, that it wasn’t your time yet?

Or was it the sound of someone reprimanding another on the noise?

“Sir! I told you repeatedly – repeatedly, that this is a hospital room and not your house! You cannot play video games so loudly at this hour! And you! A patient is resting! Stop watching a movie beside him! I swear to God, I am going to kick your asses out of this hospital!”

You could almost picture the nurse’s hands on her hips, her voice firm and commanding, taking no nonsense from anyone, even in a place like this.

“Ajumma, I got you your favorite coffee. Are you really going to kick me out?”

The playful, teasing voice cut through the tension, and you could hear the pout in Jimin’s voice. You had to smile, even if you didn’t quite understand what he was doing here. Jimin’s voice, so light and innocent, was in sharp contrast to the life he led outside these sterile walls. The weight of the world was never as evident as it was when his lips curved into that angelic smile, the one that somehow always seemed to mask the storm raging underneath.

Slowly, you opened your heavy eyes, the light blinding you for a moment. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the brightness around you. The air was thick, heavy with what smelled like antiseptic, and there was a pounding ache in your head. You tried to shift but the pain in your arm reminded you that something had happened. Your body felt foreign, as if you were waking up from a long, deep sleep, the kind that made you forget who you were, forget where you were, and most importantly—forget how you had ended up here.

But then, the memories came rushing back like a flood.

The attack.

The gunfire.

The blood.

The screeching tires as Hoseok fought with everything he had to protect the two of you. The chaos. The fear. The moment when you thought your life was about to slip through your fingers like sand, and worse, that your son would be left alone in this world.

“Of course, not you! You’re an angel!” The nurse’s voice softened, and you could almost hear her smile, though you couldn’t quite see her yet. “I’m talking about these two!”

“But nurse, aren’t you the one being loud now? You woke noona up,” Taehyung offhandedly commented as he watched you nonchalantly with his dark eyes. He was seated beside a second hospital bed identical to yours. Your limited vision hindered you from seeing a man lying there that had several apparatuses attached to his pale skin, his breathing deep and even as he slumbered.

You frowned, the realization was slow but sure.

You were alive.

“J-Ji-Jiwon,” you called out weakly, your throat dried. It did feel like you had been out for weeks, if not months. You didn’t know. And not knowing was making you panic. You tried sitting up, but your muscles were aching and were weak from non-usage. The sound emitted from the heart monitor was rapid, prompting the nurse to call for a doctor all while the Jungkook and Jimin attempted to calm you down.

“Noona, you have to calm down. You’ve been in a coma for more than a month–”

You met Jimin’s eyes, reaching for his hand. The tears in your eyes further impaired vision. “Jiwon?” you asked in a shaking voice and it was barely a whisper. You needed to know that he was safe. You needed to know that he was not suffering. You could not live with yourself if you survived, and he did not. The mere thought was simply too much to bear.

He squeezed your hand once, “He’s okay, noona. Namjoon and his family are taking care of him right now.”

“Really?” you asked despite the tears falling down your face. “He’s okay? He’s not hurt, right?”

He smiled at you. “Jiwon is okay. You and Hoseok protected him. In fact, he’s taken a liking at Namjoon’s son. You should see the headache Namjoon’s gotten from the shenanigans of those two. They are inseparable, noona,” Jimin replied in a soft voice. What he said to you was enough to calm you down for now. He was okay.

Your son was okay.

“Ah, my patient is awake,” Kim Seokjin remarked dryly, but even as he did so there was as brief signs of relief and fondness in his eyes before they were washed away by his easygoing demeanor. “I will give you a customer loyalty card as soon as I discharge you. You, Yoongi’s angel, are always here,”

“You probably know the drill by now, let’s see your chart,” he stood beside your bed as he read your chart from his tablet, making a humming noise before tapping his finger on the screen twice. His finger tapped the screen twice, his gaze flickering between you and the notes. “Right, everything looks good. But you still have to undergo several tests before I can clear you. You’ve been asleep for awhile. Now, let’s see,” he stated before he gestured to the nurses behind him for something. “Okay, Y/N, I’m going to remove your bandage now.”

What bandage?

Slowly and with precise movements, Kim Seokjin carefully began to unwrap the gauze from around your left eye, the soft rustling of the material making you feel more aware of the vulnerability of the moment. It felt like a strange shift in time—like everything before this, everything that had happened to you, was suspended. You couldn’t recall when the bandage had been put on, or why it was there in the first place. You flinched slightly as the air touched the sensitive skin.

“You’re healing well,” he remarked as he instructed you to follow the light emitting from his pen. “The eye is reacting better than I could have hoped for. For now, your body is not rejecting the transplant, let’s just hope that it fully accepts the transplant. Your eyesight will be blurry for a few months until it eventually gets better.”

You blinked and shifted away from him. You were so panicked since you woke up that you barely noted anything about your well-being.

“What… what transplant?” Your voice came out breathless, too weak to hold the tremor. The world around you felt unsteady, and nothing made sense. Your mind was still grasping at fragments, trying to piece them together.

“That crazy bastard gave you one of his eyes,” Seokjin replied with a tilt of his chin to the second bed in the room. Jimin and Jungkook stepped away to reveal Min Yoongi. He was asleep, just like you had been moments ago. He had a bandage on his right eye, the side that didn’t have the scar.

Seokjin imparted that the car crash had accelerated the deterioration of your sight. You ran out of time. He finally revealed that before the chaos even began, Yoongi spoke to him. Should everything else fails, your well-being should be prioritized instead of him. He said that he would give you everything, even his sight, because you gave him his dreams. You gave him a family.

 Jungkook assisted you when you moved to him. He held your arm gently as you walked step by step to your husband and sat down on the chair that Taehyung vacated. The sterile smell of the hospital room was suffocating, but the only thing you could focus on was the man lying motionless before you.

“My love? My Suga…” you called for him, lifting his uninjured hand to your cheeks. The coolness of his skin sent a shiver down your spine, but it was the wetness of your tears that dampened his pale flesh. “My husband, please wake up. I’m waiting for you. J-Jiwon is waiting for his father. We’re all waiting for you.”

Everyday since you were discharged, you visited him. Oftentimes with Jiwon, but on some days when you felt the weight of the situation, you went alone. After the attack, News outlets flooded the scene, broadcasting every grim detail of what had happened to South Korea’s beloved chief of police. Everyone in the country knew of what happened. All the underhanded, illegal dealings of the politician fully came to light with the help of Jungkook and Namjoon’s skills.

But even more carefully orchestrated was the way the Bangtan dealt with the situation. They had planted false evidence, skillfully shifting the blame onto the senator and wiping out any trace of the Bangtan organization. With the downfall and death of the senator, the existence of the Bangtan appeared to cease. The underworld, however, wasn’t fooled. They knew better than to challenge the family that had long since ruled the shadows. The Bangtan were ruthless, and they would always come out on top.

It was a month later when Yoongi finally woke up.

You were tightly clasping his hand. You had just finished gently wiping him down. Your head was bowed down on his side, quietly crying and begging him to wake up. At this point, you felt like you were asking for a miracle. Seokjin said that Yoongi’s chart indicated that he was healing well and to surmise, there were no reasons for him to not wake up. You were feeling the most helpless when you felt a movement. It was subtle at first, a slight twitch in his hand. You held your breath, unsure if you had imagined it. Then, another. A movement. His fingers shifted, just enough to catch your attention.

Your heart stopped. You pulled your head up from his side, eyes wide in disbelief. You stared at his face—his pale features, still so familiar—and waited, holding your breath.

“Suga?”

You calling him seemed to be enough. He opened his eyes. For a moment, his gaze was unfocused, his expression distant, like he was still fighting the heaviness of sleep. But then his eyes locked with yours, and in that instant, the whole world shifted. It was then and there when you noted how his eye, the scarred one, was the only one that reacted.

“Oh my God,” you stammered, your hands shaking as you reached his face. “You came back to me.”

He blinked slowly, his lips parting as if he was trying to find the strength to speak. For a moment, there was just silence between you, his eyes searching yours, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the moment. Then, his lips quirked slightly, just enough to show he was trying to smile.

“I’m sorry… for making you wait,” he rasped, his voice rough and weak but undeniably Yoongi’s.

You chuckled despite the tears flowing down your face as you gazed at him, as you gazed at the man who had your heart from the very beginning. You looked at the man who selflessly gave a part of himself to you, his other eye unseeing, his scarred one looking at you with brimming love. “It's okay,” you breathed out, your tears falling again, but this time, they were tears of joy. “It’s fine…you know I can wait forever for you.”

Your wedding was intimate. The date had come full circle—the same day, the same month, the same season, as when you first met him. It felt like fate had orchestrated this moment with a tenderness you never thought you deserved. You never once thought that you could be as happy and as peace as you were now. His brothers were there to witness your love: Namjoon, his secretary and her child, Taehyung, Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin. Looking around, you knew that weren’t going to be alone anymore.

You had a family.

Your son would never be alone.

When it came to it, Yoongi’s vow was simple: He vowed to always choose you. More so, he vowed to find you in each and every life after this, to love you just as much, if not more, to always be there to protect and take care of you.

You vowed to love him just as he was, and for him, that was more than enough.

The end

Extended epilogue:

No one would tell you anything whenever you asked about Hoseok.

You never saw him in the hospital. In fact, you never saw him since that night. You couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him. You didn’t even want to think about the possibility that he didn’t make it. After all, he used his body to protect you and your son.

That night, you thought that Hoseok looked lost, that he regarded his life as nothing.

You still wondered why he did it. You still wondered why he saved you.

Despite the heroic act that he did, no one would utter his name. It was as if he simply vanished from this earth. But perhaps, Yoongi finally had enough of you asking for another man that he finally answered.

“Angel, don’t worry about him. He’s in a better place now.”

His answer only left you more questions.

Hundred kilometers away from Seoul –

A persistent knock on the door woke you from your sleep. You struggled to open your eyes as you had just fallen asleep not two hours ago. For heaven’s sake, you thought, you had barely completed one REM of sleep cycle!

But the insistent knocking from someone clearly impatient was enough to chase the drowsiness away.

You wanted to ignore it, truly, you did. But what if it was an emergency? What if it was one of the less fortunate that badly needed something? What if it was the other nuns?

You stood up and wore your conservative robe. You turned on your lamp, the small lamp brought light to your equally small room. You unlatched the lock, danger far from your mind. After all, this was the province – the farthest from the city. Secondly, the area the church was in was quite secluded, and the only people here were the nuns and the orphaned children. This was not like your life before. Here, you could go out and be assured that no one meant you harm.

At least, that was what you thought.

How wrong you were and you soon found out the intensity of your mistake.

Carelessly, you opened the door only to find your nightmare brought to life.

Min Yoongi aka Lucifer himself aka Agustd.

Also known as one of your adopted brothers.

“Miss me, little sister?”

Jung Hoseok: Full prologue on KoFi

[awordsmith]

tongue-tied 𝜗𝜚 s.r

Spencer breaks up with you because he’s been arrested for murder. He refuses to see or talk about you and you–dumbfounded–force your way back into his life by becoming his lawyer.

who? spencer reid x known!reader when? s12 genre: novella content warning: a bit angsty in the beginning, open ending?, little mention of work stress/not feeling like enough/feeling too much... ..reid with warm care !! word count: 3.5k a/n: i had a really vivd dream about this scenario; i don't know if any of you know what tiktok shifting is, but it felt like that–where it was first person pov and i didn't know i was dreaming until i woke up...enjoy!!

The ceiling fan buzzed; you wiped your eyes and stood, heading for the switch when your phone rang on the table. Your heart leaped and you rushed back to the table, forgetting the annoyance that moments ago haunted you.

It was him–you grinned and clicked answer, “Spencer, hey are you b–

“—...”

“Hey,” frowning, you took a seat at your desk, pulling a leg up on the chair to lean on, “what’s going on? Are you alright?”

You heard his breath on the other side of the line. Shaky–it passe over you like a cloud. You felt tears spring into your own eyes. You were never equipped to handle things like this–Spencer knew that–he was the yapper and you were the listener–but he wasn’t yapping right now.

“Spencer, say something…” you bit your thumb, “where are you?” You stood, moving your hands around in search of your keys, “I’m coming to get you–

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other anymore…”

Your keys fell from your hand and you dumbly slid back into your chair, glancing at the documents spread out in front of you–you had just finished a case that day–you were writing out your report and sorting the files in order. “What did you say?...”

There was no response, only heavy breathing. A tear broke free and you were quick to swipe it away.

“Where is this coming from?” Your voice, though quivering, full–you knew he could hear it–he could hear how pathetic you sounded, “did something happen in Mexico?”

You closed your eyes for a minute, before setting the phone down and putting him on speaker. This wasn’t happening–this was–what even happened?

“Spencer,” your voice grew louder, “dammit–Spencer answer me! I deserve a damn explanation!” You slammed your hands on your desk near your phone, knocking a few papers to the floor.

“...I know,” he dared to whisper–and then like that, the line went dead.

You slid to the floor, wailing.

No calls, no messages–you’d sent around 20 throughout the night as you fell in and out of sleep. You’d left 5 voicemails and still–nothing. You tried him again this morning when you woke up, once when you got out of the shower, once before you left the house, and once before you headed into the office.

At this point, you were starting to accept the fact that maybe it really was over–but that didn’t make any sense. He hadn’t blocked you–that was something? Maybe? Or maybe you were being delusional.

There had to be something bigger behind this–something you were missing–there was no way–not the Spencer that you knew–would do something like this–

“I love you, you know that?” He kissed your exposed shoulder, it was cold and you wondered if he had accidentally left a window open.

A giggle escaped you and pushed him off your back, “Spence–I need to–” Another laugh cut off your sentence as he kissed your neck, “Come on seriously,” you gave him a once over, “I need to work.”

He had an old, tall lamp that stood in the corner of his den–you remember helping him pick it out from the thrift store–Spencer was a thrifting-obsessed maniac. But you loved that about him. “Work can wait for tomorrow,” he whined.

You raised an incredulous brow, “Do I ever say that when Penelope calls?” His apartment had that same fresh parchment smell it always seemed to have.

“Fine,” Spencer sighed, “do you want takeout?”

You gripped the back of his desk chair, grinning, “I thought you’d never ask.”

There had to be some sort of misunderstanding–Spencer wouldn’t just up and do something like this to you, not after the year you’d been together. You were expecting to take the next step with him–not a breakup–

“This is great, I’ll email you some of the newer cases and you can take your pick.”

“Actually,” you grimaced, “I was wondering if I could take a few days off, one or two would be great.”

Your boss assessed you, his eyes roamed over your tired eyes and a messy ponytail. “Everything alright?”

Your lips pressed together and you forced the corners to turn upward, “yep, just…tired…”

He sighed and leaned backward, crossing his hands on his belly, “I see, well yes, of course–take as many days as you need.”

Your smile brightened slightly, “thank you, Sir, really.” 

He called your name when you were at the door, and you turned back, waiting, “just something to keep in mind…he’s not worth it. Don’t let it stress you out too much, you’re a great lawyer. Okay?”

You took a breath and closed your eyes. When they reopened, you fixed them on your boss, “Thank you, I know you’re just being kind. But with all due respect, Sir, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Beauru wasn’t too far away from your office, perhaps a few blocks. You made it there in 15 minutes with traffic and were stepping through the doors in 20.

You tried Emily’s cell, but she didn’t pick up, and none of the other team members were responding either–you called Luke, but he didn’t pick up. You thanked the receptionist for your visitor pass, she’d grown accustomed to your presence.

You typically had lunch with Spencer when his team didn’t have a case, sometimes he’d surprise you at the office super early or incredibly late when he wasn’t supposed to get back until the next day. 

Which is why none of this made any freaking sense.

“Penelope Garcia,” you pushed open her door, but she wasn’t there. Recognition crossed your face when you saw her little fidgets and gadgets spread across her desk. Her computer was open, but locked. You frowned and stepped away from it. Should you just wait here?

Spencer normally accompanied you whenever you were at the Beaureu, you felt out of place without him. You huffed a sigh and sat in her chair, Spencer wouldn’t be able to resist spinning himself, the thought made you chuckle, but just as quickly, the memory of him dumping you via phone call crossed your mind.

Over a fucking phone call? You set your purse off to the side and swiped up on your phone again. There was something seriously wrong. You would get to the bottom of this if it meant forcing it out of everyone here.

“Ah, perfect timing,” you spun around, meeting Penelope face to…well waist.

“Uh…hi,” she said.

“You hesitated–” you jabbed a finger at her and stood.

“I–” she looked behind her as if you were on a reality TV show and cameras were hiding in plain sight, “huh?–wha–no, no no no.” She stepped forward, “whywhatar–e you doing here?”

You averted your eyes to the floor, “It's Spencer…”

“Oh,” she nodded, “he’s…not here at the moment…but I will–I can call you or text! You…if that’s what you…want.”

“Garcia,” you didn’t want to be mean. You didn’t want to be rude–but being around profilers all the time, she should’ve known how to hide her lies better.

“Okay–fine,” she waved her hands in her face, chest deflating, “but you can’t tell anyone I told you–least of all Reid–he’d…” she grimaced, “...hate me for life.”

“Garcia–”

“–Okay, right, yeah, you wanna–” she motioned with her hands and walked forward.

You followed her with your gaze, widening your eyes expectantly, “…well?”

“Oh boy– you’re gonna wanna sit down for this.”

“If there’s another woman Garcia, just tell me, I can take it–

Her eyes narrowed, “Oh no–God no–Ried would never–he’s crah–zy about you…trust me he never shuts up–anyway,” she shook her head and flailed her arms, “What I’m trying to say is that Reid would never cheat–he isn’t that kind of person. He–

“So then why!?”

“Reids in prison!” Her hands covered her mouth and her eyes grew, “oh my gosh I just said that–he’s gonna–he’ll never forgive me–

Your heart plummeted, “Spencer’s in…prison…?”

Penelope coughed up his file pretty easily. After getting her to spill the big beans on what happened in Mexico–or at least what Spencer had been able to remember, it wasn’t too hard to convince her that if Spencer hated her already, what would it matter that she do anything else?

You sped home, pulled into your complex, and ran toward your apartment. Upon locking the door, you set your things on your couch and took his files to your room. At a time like like this you really wished you had a pet, someone to comfort you–were it not for the surrounding circumstances, you could rely on Spencer. He was always there.

Which is why–despite his shitty breakup call–you had to be here for him, when he was at his lowest.

But first, you needed to cry.

A load of salty fries and two water bottles later, you were tying your hair back into a bun and grabbing a red marker. The copies Penelope had made for you proved to have nothing other than a few written statements from first responders–most of which did not favor Spencer–the crime scene photos, that were hard to look at, though nothing of which you hadn’t seen before.

And finally, his statement–his recollection pulled together in a jumble of phrases and half-sentences. Your heart lapsed again. You pushed everything in front of you and rubbed your face. It was getting late. Almost eight, you most likely weren’t on his visitation list–and if he’d kept all of this from you–he most definitely wouldn’t be expecting you.

Which is exactly why you had just one last favor to ask of Penelope.

You defended minor criminals whom you believed innocent on most, if not all accounts–the majority of the cases you took on favored your clients. You had slowly been working your way up to higher crimes–your last case had been a series of robberies, resulting in a shootout, though no one had died, the second it crossed your screen, you knew you had to take it.

This was your first murder case–though it wasn’t officially yours…yet. You needed more information, but first and foremost, you needed Spencer to agree.

Millburn Correctional Facility wasn’t the place you dreamt about when you wanted to escape reality–but Spencer was here, and he didn’t look happy to see you. The buzzer sounded and the doors were opened, the prisoners failed into the room in a straight line.

When he turned to face you, his expression became unreadable, you knew something was off then, because Spencer was always readable to you. His skin looked ghostly pale and his eyes looked a bit sunken–but that was still your Spencer behind the glass. 

“What are you doing here?”  Was the first thing he asked upon picking up the phone.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”

A breath passed between his lips where words should have been. 

“Spencer, why didn’t you want me to know? Why did you–this is why you broke up with me, right?” He remained silent, eyes scanning something on your shirt, “am I right?”

He shook his head, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“How could I not come?” Exasperated, you slammed a hand onto the table in front of you, lowering your voice when you met the gazes of the other visitors.

“Who told you, Garcia?” He scoffed, “Did she also get you on my visitation list–is that–is that how you’re here?–”

“–The better question is why you didn’t tell me yourself.”

Spencer shook his head, “I can’t believe she would do that–

“You asked them?” You grit your teeth and take a calming breath, “you asked them to not tell me? That’s why no one’s been picking up my calls or messages?”

“That’s–

“–It’s what, Spencer?”

He went silent again.

You leaned forward, pressing the phone to your ear, “What happened in Mexico?”

“I can’t–I’m not allowed to discuss that with you–

“No,” you sat back and crossed your leg, the pencil skirt you wore riding up your thigh, “but you can with your lawyer.”

“What? No.” He shook his head, “No. I’m telling you right now, I will never agree to that.” He looked so set in his decision. Your bottom lip quivered a bit, you clamped down to keep it from giving you away.

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The buzzer sounded again, “I already have a lawyer.” He shoved the phone back on its hinges and stood, you followed.

“I don’t care,” you shouted through the glass. Spencer’s eyes looked glazed over, you wanted to hug him–you wanted to breathe him in and tell him everything would be alright. But somewhere in you felt him drifting away, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t reach him.

“Don’t come back.” These were his final words before he was taken away.

The chair provided you with some stability–though tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you watched the back of him disappear. “Ma’am, it’s time.” An officer led you and the other visitors back through the doors, toward the front.

You wouldn’t give up. This was your case. You would make it yours.

“We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s…nothing personal–” 

“–Except it,” Emily sighed, “I’m sorry,” she murmured your name, looking at the picture of sorrow, “I really am, but…” she pursed her lips and glanced away, “you’re not gonna let this go?”

“How could I?” You scoffed and stood, “This case is mine, Emily–whether you decide to help me is up to you.” You headed for the door, but Fiona, Spencer’s current lawyer called you back.

You glanced at her over your shoulder, waiting. She glanced away and blew out air, “I appreciate you thinking about me, and I’m glad to know you have this much confidence in me…”

“But…?” Emily slumped her shoulders and nodded, “All alright,” you spun around to face her, meeting her resolve with a heavy heart.

“If you can get Reid to agree, the case is yours.”

You let out a breath and dropped your firm stance, tears springing into the corners of your eyes. You looked up and blinked them away, “thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I think I have a rather good idea.” Emily’s smile was faint but evident.

“And thank you, Fiona,” you tried for a smile, surprised to find it somewhat genuine.

“Don’t be. This case is going to be rough–”

“Oh, and paired with the fact that Reid will never agree to it.”

“Wow, thanks for the confidence, Emily.” You snorted out.

She held up her hands, “I’m sorry, good luck.”

Emily watched you slip behind her office door and down the steps of the Beaureu. “Do you think he really won’t accept?” Fiona mumbled.

Emily turned toward her old friend and pressed a thing to smile to her lips, shrugging, “I have no idea.”

Fiona sat back down and ran her hands through her hair, “Yeah, but, I can tell why she’s so persistent.”

“Okay, why?” Though Emily had an inkling of suspicion herself, she never wanted to assume anything.

“Because she loves him–with her whole heart.”

“People in love do stupid things,” Emily clicked her tongue.

“Sometimes I wish someone would love me enough to do stupid things for me.”

“It’s a both blessing and a curse.”

“I’ll raise to that.”

The two friends laughed as their morning coffee cups met.

The prison was icky–perhaps you should have worn sweats this time. You crossed our legs, trying to ignore the stares.

“I told you not to come back here.” Spencer hissed.

“You don’t own me, Spencer. You cannot tell me what to do–

“–No, but I can take you off my visitor list.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me–”

“–Spencer!” Gosh, what was wrong with him!?

Fragments of his voice seeped through the speaker on the old landline. A hairsbreadth of a word, a name–your name.

You watched the phone in horror. Why–Why? Wasn’t he letting you help him? Did he not think you were capable? “Spencer.” You said in response. “Spencer. Spencer. Spencer.”

“Dammit.” He cursed and a guard asked if you were alright, of course, you were alright. He would never hurt you. That wasn’t him. Prison wouldn’t change Spencer–there was no way–

“Tell me something.” You urged, “Tell me something outlandish–something no one would know about unless they were…you.”

He flinched. His pupils dilated and you could tell he was thinking of what to say next. “Why are you doing this?”

The tone in his voice unnerved you. It reached the cracks in your body that led to your soul. He sounded tired–so tired from the last you’d been to see him. You would not be pushed down. You wouldn’t give in–this wasn’t scrabble or chess–this was his life. How could he not see that?

“You know why.” You watched him–every tick, every muscle; every movement, you analyzed, and perhaps overanalyzed, but you didn’t know another person who wouldn’t in your situation.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I know.”

Two weeks later you were taken off Spencer’s visitor list, which was madness because you had thought you’d had this conversation already.

“Penelope Garcia,” you spun around in her chair.

“AH–Gya, you’ve got to stop doing that. I half-expect you to be petting an evil cat in your lap.”

“Why did he take me off, what’s going on? Has there been a break in the case? Nothing had come across my desk since Tara’s cognitive with him.”

Penelope averted her eyes and fidgeted with the chunky rings on her fingers.

“Penelope I’m serious. Why does he keep doing this? What is going on? Something happened? Right? That’s why he doesn’t want me to see him? I drove down there yesterday and waited two hours just to be told I couldn’t see him.” You weren’t seething, but you were close to it.

“I–I don’t know, honestly.”

“But you know someone who does,” you stepped forward, “Penelope come on,” you fell against the wall, holding in all your emotional turmoil that has caused you to have freak accidents. “I’m losing him, Penelope.” You swallowed and slid to the floor of her office, “I’m losing myself.”

“Oh, oh sweetie,” she crouched down, pushing hair out of your eyes. Her fingers slid across your tear-stricken face, “...Emily. Emily knows.”

You took a moment and sat up, gulping down your breakdown, then breathing out, “Thank you.”

Up until the new documents crossed your desk, you neglected to see Spencer. You couldn’t–you didn’t want to. Not after you knew the reason behind why he’d taken you off the list.

It was too much–this entire situation was too much. Sometimes you had felt like you were bearing everything on your shoulders alone and no one was asking you to–no one cared because no one had wanted you on this case in the damned first place.

“Cat Adams, that name ring a bell?”

“The psycho hitwoman you guys captured months ago?”

Rossi and Emily exchanged glances, “yeah…” she motioned for you to sit down, “you’re going to want to sit for this.”

The lights in her office seemed to grow brighter with each sentence that flew from her mouth. Your soul stitching itself back together, that was how you felt when you left her office. You were on your way to Spencer once more, he was free. He didn’t do it.

Hi false testimony wasn’t Scratch playing games–he really was just too deluded. He wanted to remember so badly, his mind gave him false memories.

It disturbed you more than you would have liked to admit. Spencer was a prodigy–a genius in simple terms–and if even he couldn’t trust his own brain in times like these, could you ever trust yours?

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Spencer paced back and forth in front of you; JJ stood in the corner watching.

“She’s right, Spence, we can find another way–”

“–No. No, I can do this.” He ran a hand over his face.

“Hey–hey–” you grabbed his shirt and cupped his jaw in one of your hands, “it’s okay. I’ll be right outside.”

Spencer breathed you in, were it not for the stress he would have melted in your hands. He dind’t know how to express to you how deeply he had come to love you. You were the sun on his rainy days, you were leaves when Fall took them from the trees. The ocean when he was stranded on a desert island. 

He wanted to walk into his house and find you curled up with a book in your hands, using his favorite blanket to keep the cold from reaching your warmth. He wanted to see you wearing the only t-shirt he owned, the one he’d been given when he had graduated from MIT; he wanted to curl up beside you on his couch like a cat and nuzzle his head in your lap.

There were so many things he wanted, but he wasn’t sure if he deserved any of them. “I–” he wanted to say I love you, but it didn’t seem like enough.

“I know,” you whispered. “I know.”

a/n: a little quick write, i hope you enjoyed cari!!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody @kennedy-brooke

[vesperaominosum]

OMGG I'm so glad!! ok ik ur writing a story rn but if u have any free time I have a story prompt: fem reader with Leon Kennedy (established relationship) and she's bratty with him, like she's got attitude and she's snappy, but Leon doesn't mind bc he knows how to deal with her 🤭🤭 but yeahhh feel free to make it smutty or not, it's up to you <333

Summary : Journey through the pages of Leon figuring out how to handle a bratty girlfriend and accepting himself (kind of, implied)

Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader

Tags : Established relationship, bratty reader, self deprecation (Leon being dramatic), some levels of generally harmless toxicity, angst, fluff, hints of hurt/comfort (maybe??), no smut but allusions to what grown ups do and a couple of curse words.

Word count: 2891

A/N: I'm in the middle of working with lots of translations for work and it's multiple different languages so my brain is #freid, so this is super rushed and all over the place but I've been thinking about this prompt and this is what I have to sayyyy. Anyway, sorry for prompt being "he doesn't mind" and the whole fic HE DOES MIND VERY MUCH HES GONNA CRY IF YOURE MEAN TO HIM but this is the prequel!! he doesn't mind after all that anymore hahaha i hope you like it anyway

Leon knew how to handle you.

It didn’t come to him naturally, it couldn’t. You were always difficult. Throughout your childhood you recall most of your caregivers - nannies, teachers, family friends and whoever thought it was their duty to comment - uttering “It’s going to be really hard to find someone who’d put up with her” after witnessing another one of your spectacles. Kinder ones would say “She’ll grow out of it”.

And they were right.

You grew up to be extremely caring, generous, kind and an all-around outstanding young woman. Attitude dissolved into calm confidence and you were very pleasing to be around. It wasn’t just your family who noticed those qualities bloom – everyone loved to be in the presence of your welcoming warm, yet joyfully prickly energy. This is exactly why special agent Leon S Kennedy was drawn to steal your attention at first. It seemed like you had no baggage. It seemed like you were unable to have any baggage. Like whatever hardships were placed your way simply melted and disappeared to the sound of you laughing away all the troubles, making another lighthearted joke that put everything into perspective. You had a magical ability to turn all problems in the world into something meaningless. Perhaps, it was just Leon being in love that made it possible with such ease, but it did not matter. It worked. And he was in love. It wasn’t a crazy concept.

You made him want to become a better person. Not on a grand scale, none of that illusive bullshit, but in everyday life. He counted his blessings and watched out for your feelings, deep down he knew that your carefree façade isn’t all there was, and he was afraid to hurt you. He was attentive, he thought about the things he said and tried to go out of his way to make your day better. He wasn’t the best at relationships, but he genuinely tried. It’s the least he could do for someone who brought him back to life. That if he was around.

When he would go away for work, you wouldn’t speak for weeks, sometimes months. This arrangement made it difficult for your relationship to progress naturally. Every time he came back, you two fell back into the very much juvenile day one: blushing, smiling, flowers, dates, shy kisses that felt like the first… As much as he enjoyed it, he wanted more. It was scary leaving your dashing self alone in the world full of people who could… see you. He wasn’t the unreasonably jealous type, and you never gave him a reason, but it was only logical that you deserved more effort. The lack of which wasn’t an issue, there just never been enough time for it to feel natural, but oh how he wanted to move in together. Sometimes Leon would imagine you in his kitchen and it made him feel shy. He had to better himself, to learn all about how to treat a girl this deserving, then it will fall into pieces.

It was coming along, until he found himself between trying to figure out whether he’s doing too little as of yet or it’s too late as of now. The thing was: you fell into a weird pattern.

Every time he came back, you loved him up and down, held him in your arms and told him all about how happy you were seeing him so close, but approximately on day four… You would switch up. Out of nowhere you’d appear cold and dismissive. He never saw this in you before. A sweet sunshine of a girl he wanted to care for, wanted nothing to do with him. You made borderline rude remarks, paid him no attention and even avoided his touch. One time Leon tried to kiss your shoulder and you snapped at him for ruining your makeup. He apologized and spent a long time trying to figure out what makeup could he possibly ruin by gently touching your shoulder, out of all places, with his lips.

Regardless of your behavior, before he had to depart for work, you were always caring. The juxtaposition messed with his head and he had no clue where you stood. He tried to be understanding, he tried to be kinder and softer, he tried and tried and tried… Day to day, while avoiding dangers his work instilled upon him, he was holding onto hope that much needed space would settle it down. And you would be back to your kind and sweet self. And it did, for approximately four days.

It was day six of him being back and you planned to meet up with your friends together. Well, you planned it and Leon agreed, as he usually did. Leon was familiar with your best friend, not much with the rest of them. Your best friend was a clever girl, beauty and brains, witty but careful, very diplomatic, you sure knew how to pick them and knew that early, you were friends since school. You also had a small circle, just a couple of trusted friends, it was always quality over quantity with you. This thought is what made Leon sick to his stomach. He felt like he was slipping out of a place he didn’t fit to begin with. The idea of you two splitting made all the problems in the world heavy again. The weight that accumulated while he didn’t pay it no mind would crush him.

He tried to figure out what was wrong for the past month, falling asleep to same questions every day of his mission. Why were you pushing him away? Are you tired of waiting? Could it be that you lack courage to break up with him and want to give him a reason to take on this task? Did he scare you away? What if you grew bored of him? After all, dating an agent is exciting, but a life with one… What if you realized it’s a dead end? All the thinking convinced him to act. If you want him to take it further - he would. If you don’t want to - he’d change. He’s bending out of shape as it is to make you happy. Or at least to make you less of a… Less cruel.

So just a day ago he did ask you to move in with him. Prepared for any reaction other that the one you spit out, he stared at the wall, processing your answer. “For what? So, I get to wait for you in another four walls? No, thanks.”

“I could quit” – he said, not looking away from the damn wall. You laughed and patted him on the shoulder and you walked by, - “And do what?”

Right now, you were away, doing your nails or hair, he couldn’t remember. All this remembering and being attentive amounted to nothing anyway. It was slipping away and there was no fixing anything. All he wanted to know was why. All he was not ready to find out was how.

He met you outside of the restaurant, you were late and Leon didn’t want your friends to know you arrived separately. He didn’t want anyone else in the universe to register that you could be separate. To make it one step closer to becoming a reality. The idea was scary. You got out of the taxi, complaining about the driver taking a longer route, like you two were fine. Like you were okay. Like you didn’t reject his proposal to move in with him last night. “You know, I could’ve taken you…” – “To the hospital?” – you snapped, there was no malice, but the look on your face was something he couldn’t read. Was it just hate powdered with playfulness… Was it because you were about to face your friends and had to keep up the appearances? Were you really joking? “What do you mean?” – “You know you’re a terrible driver. I’m so not getting into a car with you. Like, ever.” – and you gracefully chimed into the restaurant. Leon looked like he was slapped, not because of your joke, but because of everything that gripped the hope of fixing that “us” thing he treasured was just shattered. One more time. He walked in after you.

You were radiant, laughing with your friends, who greeted him, exclaiming “The man himself!”. He felt sick. He couldn’t do it. Not in front of your friends, he couldn’t look at you with questions in his heart, and he never learned how to mask his emotions. Maybe that’s a reason you fell out of love. He excused himself barely saying a word and went to the restroom.

Your friend followed him with sorry eyes, honest concern on her face, before gripping your hand, - “That must be hard… Is he always like that when he comes back from… work?”

He washed his face with cold water, pushing wet hair away from his forehead and gripping the sink, Leon looked at himself in the mirror. His heart was heavy, beating with an annoying irregularity that made him nauseous. It was hilarious really, he wasn’t moved by any monstrosity on duty, yet this… He couldn’t afford another part of his life to turn ugly. It wasn’t fair. He did everything right and yet everything was turning out wrong. Now that he started questioning you, it felt like a part of him that he tried to build for you came crushing down. Maybe, had he known his parents and observed their relationship, he could figure out a better way to act, would be more convincing at being this version you would like longer. And he really wanted to be him. He didn’t care who he was, as long as you were there. But he couldn’t make you like him. Maybe that’s what you saw - there was a level of dishonesty in that act. Trying to appeal to your idea of a partner. Whoever that man was – he failed. And Leon was staring at the mirror at the only person he could be. The only company he deserves, it seemed.

Exhale. Inhale, exhale. Whatever goes.

He got out of the restroom and dragged himself to join you and your precious friends. No thoughts, until… Right before turning the corner where a large plant was hiding the hallway from the dining room of the restaurant, he heard parts of your conversation. It was your voice that made him stop. Gentle and kind, just like before. But what made him stay, was what he overheard.

“-no, no! That would never happen, and even if it does… You know I’m just happy he’s back. In one piece. I wouldn’t mind if he came back in more though…” – everyone exclaimed your name and laughed scandalized, - “No! I don’t mean it like that! You know what I mean, stop it! I just… He could be in a wheelchair and it wouldn’t…” – by the pause and laughter it was obvious your friends were making faces, you groaned, - “I hate you, stop making it weird. All I mean is I love him, okay? Whatever happens, in any shape or form, I’m just… I’m happy to…” – your voice got less confident and you started searching for words, - “You know, I get so worried yes, but…”

He felt like someone had to save you from being put on the spot, so he made his way to the table and with a quick “sorry” sat next to you. Everyone put on their best impressions of inconspicuousness and you looked down, almost shy. You noticed the change in his demeanor, he sat closer than you expected after walking on imaginary eggshells for days, intentionally letting his leg touch your thigh.

“Damn, did you take a shower?” – asked one of the men at the table looking at his wet hair, could be your friend, could be your friend’s boyfriend. “Almost. Got really car sick on the way here, had to cool down. Had a terrible driver.” – “Really? We thought you drove here!” – your best friend started fussing immediately, looking for a waiter to fix your boyfriend a real drink instead of a mocktail.

“Yeah” – Leon smiled – “I drove here”. You felt your cheeks burn, as your friends laughed at the joke, without a clue it was aimed at you, and even though he wasn’t looking, you could tell he noticed you turning red, which made his smile wider.

“Took you forever.” – you muttered, annoyed. Were you still trying to play this game?

It was hard to process his emotions. He wanted to squish you in a small ball for making him think all those ugly things, at the same time he wanted to kiss you for finally releasing him from this limbo. Knowing you didn’t want to end things made him euphoric. He still had no idea what was up with your act, but it didn’t matter anymore. He heard your quivering voice when you talked all about just how much you loved him, and he knew sincerity when he came across it. Had to learn it the hard way.

All he wanted to do was to pick you up on his shoulder and carry you away, the problem was – he still had no idea what he wanted to do with you. He was angry, but filled with joy. It was like waking up from the worst nightmare. With morning wood. Almost made him spiral for nothing. He would not let it slide. You were more silent than ever, sipping your milkshake, or whatever it was, and smiling. It was like you sensed you were in trouble and it made you happy. Amusing. As soon as he figures out what to do with all of this, you’re not going to be so giggly.

Evening was coming to an end, he opened the door of his car for you, looking at your much expected insulted expression, - “I said…” – you started, as Leon rolled his eyes and put his hand on your waist, - “Get in” – he pinched you, not hard enough to hurt, but it was enough for you to squirm away into the car.

The road was silent before he took one sharp turn and you followed it with, - “This has to count as attempted murder.” – “Don’t worry, nobody’s gonna find out.” - “Oh, they will, when they find my body,” – you took the front mirror and checked your makeup, - “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your body”, - he smiled, looking as you let go of the mirror and tried to hide your smile and act offended.

Yeah, ever since that day Leon knew how to handle you. Turned out all these people from your childhood were right, as they usually are: it was hard to find him, but it was worth it.

For months you waited for him to snap and drop the act, you hated seeing him treating you like you were holy. You hated seeing him trying to change his ways around you, and him insinuating that you want something else - someone else - with his modifications was insulting. You could have a boring gentleman if you wanted. You wanted original Leon, and you wanted him to want you at your worst.

To this day you remain clueless about the overheard conversation, completely convinced that it took you insulting his driving to get him there. You were prepared to get on his nerves, you always knew he’d show himself, crawl back into himself for you, to take what he needs, to make you you again. You put all your trust into it. And he did not disappoint. He picked it right up every time.

Even now, as he came back to his apartment after another mission, he was not surprised by the lack of greetings at the door. He was not surprised to find you on the bed with a book in your hands as well, sparing him one disinterested glance, - “You’re late.”, - you turned a page, - “Who even let you in?”

He smiled, crawling into bed, and taking the book away from you, - “I welcomed myself”, - he smiled into your lips, holding the book up, as you whined and pretended to try to reach it before finally wrapping your arms around him and returning the kiss. The switch up was always fast with you, and soon he was the one, who tried to pull away, as you kissed and tangled your body into his. He managed to hold you still for a minute, as you ran your fingers through his hair, until the playful look in your eyes softened as you noticed him looking at you with so much care that it made your heart drop. “I missed you so much” – he placed a tender kiss to your chin and you felt hot tears fall from your eyes and make their way into your ears as you hugged him, pulling him closer into your neck, you started crying silently.

He held you up and turned you both around to grip you tighter without crashing, letting you hide in his chest as he held you, caressing your back and kissing your head.

Sometimes you hated him for making you worry so much, sometimes you hated yourself for hating someone you loved so much, sometimes you wanted him to hate you to even it out. Sometimes you didn’t understand yourself and it was okay.

Because Leon knew how to handle you.  

[cherrylibby]

Chasing the Storms

The Oklahoma sky was bruised with the colors of an oncoming storm—deep violets and angry grays swirling above the horizon. Tyler barely noticed. His heart was pounding harder than it had on any chase as he stood on your front porch, waiting for you to slam the door in his face.

But you didn’t.

You stood there, eyes burning with something between fury and heartbreak, your arms crossed like a shield against him. The years hadn’t dulled your fire—if anything, they’d made it sharper. And damn, if that didn’t hurt just as much as it made him miss you.

"You got some nerve showing up here, Tyler," you said, voice tight.

He nodded once. "Yeah. I do."

A bitter smirk pulled at your lips, but there was no humor in it. "What do you want?"

Tyler exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking. "I need your help. There’s a storm system coming, bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. We’ve got a solid team, the tech, but…" He hesitated. "No one tracks storms like you."

You scoffed, stepping back like he’d just insulted you. "Unbelievable. You disappear for years—no calls, no letters, not a damn word—and now you show up at my door because you need something? Do you even hear yourself?"

He flinched. He deserved that.

"It’s not just about the storm," he tried, but you weren’t having it.

"Oh, really? Then what is it about, Tyler?" Your voice cracked on his name, and that nearly broke him. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you only come back when it’s convenient for you."

His jaw tightened. "You told me you were done."

"You left!"

"You made me leave!" The words exploded out of him, sharp and desperate, cutting through the space between you. "You quit chasing, you shut down, and you looked at me like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you. I didn’t know how to fix that!"

You shook your head, eyes glistening, but you refused to let a tear fall. "You didn’t even try," you whispered.

Silence.

The wind picked up around you, rustling the old wind chimes hanging from the porch. The storm was rolling in fast now, but the one brewing between you and Tyler was worse.

"You think it was easy for me to walk away?" he asked, voice lower now, strained. "You think I wanted to leave you?" He took a step closer, and to his relief, you didn’t move away. "Every damn day, I thought about coming back. About calling you. But what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, sorry for nearly getting you killed—wanna chase another storm?’" He let out a rough laugh, shaking his head. "I left because I thought you’d be better off without me."

You swallowed hard, arms tightening around yourself like you were holding yourself together. "That wasn’t your choice to make."

Tyler ran a hand over his face. "I know." He let out a breath, looking at you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. "I know."

A long pause.

Then, softer—more vulnerable than he’d ever sounded—he said, "I never stopped loving you."

Your breath caught.

For a second, you looked away, blinking fast, but then you lifted your chin, meeting his gaze with that same defiance he’d always loved about you. "Then why did you leave me to love you alone?"

That shattered him.

His hand came up, hesitating just for a second before he cupped your cheek. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, just the slightest bit, and that was all he needed.

Before you could say another word, he kissed you.

It wasn’t careful, wasn’t hesitant. It was desperate and raw, full of everything left unsaid over the years. His other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him, and when your fingers tangled in his hair, he groaned into the kiss.

You tasted like the past and everything he’d ever wanted in the future.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, foreheads resting together, he whispered, "Come with me."

You exhaled shakily. "Tyler—"

"Not just for the storms. For us." His grip on you tightened like he was terrified of letting go again. "I screwed up. I should’ve stayed. Should’ve fought harder. But I’m here now, and if you tell me to leave, I’ll go. But I swear to God, I don’t want to run anymore. I just want you."

You stared at him, torn between every scar he’d left on your heart and the undeniable truth that you still loved him.

Outside, thunder rumbled, shaking the sky.

You sighed. Then, finally, finally, you muttered, "Damn it, Tyler."

He grinned. "I’ll take that as a yes."

You rolled your eyes, but when you pulled him down for another kiss, he knew he was finally home.

[kenpachissluut]

Jealousy feat. Nanami Kento ꨄ︎

warning: smut, explicit content and language, 18+mdni, rough fuck, spitting and slapping, angry jealous nanami, squirting, breeding

Nanami is the most sweetest and gentle boyfriend you could ever imagine. Treating you like an absolute goddess, worshipping the ground you walk on and treating you with nice things on daily basis.

But not when you make him jealous, no not then. Nanami always tries to hide his jealousy but his work-fucked up mind won’t let him. So when he saw you giggling and laughing with another man, he went absolutely insane.

As soon you arrived home from the Event you both attended, he picks you up effortlessly with one strong beefy hand and throwing you onto your shared bed. You look up at him stunned with widen big eyes, not understanding his demeanor. He just scoffs at your innocent look as he loosen his tie with one veiny hand and unbuttoning his shirt.

,,Don’t give me that look love. You know exactly what you did. Flirting infront of me with that Bastard. You thought you could rile me all up, didn’t you?‘‘

,,No k ken i was just- before you could even finish your sentence he cut you off, hovering over you on the bed, pinning your arms above your head and tying them together with his tie.

,,Don’t even try to defend yourself. I know what i saw and i didn’t liked it all. Now you will pay for it doll..‘‘

Without saying any other word he ripped your pretty dress, he buyed for you from your body, leaving you completely naked and vulnerable under him. Trembling underneath him you whimpered.

,,I am sorry kento… i didn’t wanted to..‘‘ he shut‘s you up immediately by pushing two of his long fingers into your mouth, making you gag.

,,I don’t wanna hear your damn apology… not now. Daddy has to fuck you first to remind you who you belong to isn’t that right? And you will just take it like the good slut you are for me, don’t you??‘‘

His eyes were filled with anger and desire and you couldn’t help but submit to him and nodding silently, still being shushed by his fingers in your mouth.

He chuckles lowly as he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down until his already throbbing fat perfect cock sprungs out. You couldn’t even react on how fast he acted, as he just rammed his cock into your wet cunt. Moving and thrusting his hips and cock in an inhuman speed, you moaned around his fingers.

God he fucked you so mean and roughly, but you knew you deserved every bit of it. Your wet pussy was squelching so fucking much as he kept his fast pace, his other hand wrapping around your throat squeezing it firmly.

,,Fuck, look at you now. Being all on my mercy while i fuck you dumb and stupid. You like it when i am being rough, don’t you my little slut?‘‘

You were gasping for air, being choked, fingers in your mouth as you couldn’t answer but moan and whimper. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, giving you a light smack on your cheek as you were already on the verge on passing out because on how rough he was. His cock slams into your hole meanly as he forces your mouth open with his hand, spitting into your mouth.

,,Now swallow it baby, don’t waste a fucking drop. Take my punishment and i will take your apology, understood?‘‘ he growls lowly.

You nodded frantically, swallowing his spit and letting him destroy your poor pussy. It was your fault after all. He thrusted even deeper and harder until you cried out loudly as he hitted your sweet spot and making you squirt all over his fat cock.

,,That’s a good girl… look at the mess you made on my cock, fuck such a filthy girlfriend i have..‘‘ he groans as he fucks you even harder and rougher. You started clenching around him, body trembling still from your climax but you felt how his cock twitched inside of you. Knowing he was close too, you moved your body against him as you couldn’t move your tied hands. He gave you another firm slap on the cheek as you tried to make him cum faster.

,,Take it. Take how i fuck you, you little slut! Next time you flirt with another man you remember this night, right?‘‘ he growls and his movements became more sloppier as he was on the edge of cumming.

,,And now take my fucking load of cum deep into your little sweet pussy, let me fill you up my little cumslut‘‘

He was moving desperately and sloppier and with a last hard, deep thrust he spilled all his pent up cum deep into your womb, coating your insides completely white. Your insides felt so warm and sticky and you were nothing but a crying moaning mess for him as he came undone.

He panted heavily pulling you by your hair into a sloppy deep kiss, claiming you possesively. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. He looked down at you, seeing what a mess he made out of you. Puffy cheeks from his slaps, red stinged throat from his choking and he looked almost proud at the sight of how he destroyed you. He tenderly strokes your red cheek with the back of his hand, a small smile plastered on his sweat glistening face.

,,I am sorry for being so rough with you love, but i hope you remember now who you belong to. And now be a good girl and suck my cock. I am nearly not done with you yet..‘‘

kenpachissluut ꨄ︎

Comments and reblogs appreciated ꨄ︎

[maiyz]

yuji birthday special

in which: happy birthdah yuji! stop being an ungrateful little BRAT.

warning: yuji would NOT act like this i just need more angst…

pairing: yuji x reader angst

w.c: 1k masterlist

you werent sure why you cared so much.

yuji had plenty of people celebrating his birthday. nobara had planned something chaotic like smashing his head into the cake (how rude!), megumi was reluctantly going along with gojos idea to suprise him. yuji had all the attention in the world by people who openly cared about him, people who didnt hesitate to tell him how much he meant to them.

and yet there you stood by his desk before class, a small gift and your hands, hesitating.

you knew yuji wasnt the type to expect extravagant gifts, but that only made it harder. you had but more thought into this than you care to admit, a keychain from the movie he loves and a simple note you debated writing at least 10 times before settling on just ‘happy birthday, itadori!’ with small doodles scattered.

it was casual, but your hands still felt a little clammy as you set it down.

you then turned quickly, slipping back to your seat before anyone else arrived, heart thudding against your ribs.

maybe he wouldnt even realize it was from you. that would be best actually.

You weren’t used to standing out. You never had the confidence Nobara did, nor the easy charm Gojo carried. You were quiet, comfortable with just being there. It wasn’t that Yuji ever overlooked you—he was too kind for that—but you were sure you didn’t stand out to him in any significant way.

you dont like standing out, you never had the confidence nobara did, nor the charm gojo has. you were quiet. comfortable with just being there. it wasnt that yuji ever overlooked you— he was too kind for that—but you were sure you didnt stand out to him in any significant way.

you told yourself that “he wouldnt care” and that “you just want to see him smile.” that part true although you hoped that yuji would care.

yuji walked in with megumi and nobara trailed behind, his gaze looked at the small package on the desk, head tilting before grabbing it. “oh yn! you got me something?”

you held your breath, trying to distract yourself by glancing anywhere else, but your heart wouldn’t stop racing.

“can i open it?”

you mumbled a yes.

yuji unwrapped the gift quickly, his usual energetic self. he pulled out the keychain first, his eyes lighting up with a spark of recognition.

you couldn’t help but feel a small flutter of hope. But as he continued to inspect it, his expression shifted slightly. he looked up at you, a small frown tugging at his lips.

“hey, this is cool,” yuji said, his voice friendly, but there was something almost apologetic about his tone.

“i didn’t expect a keychain, but it’s really thoughtful. I guess I thought maybe something bigger, you know? maybe that what i get for opening megumis and gojo sensei gift first”

he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, trying to explain himself before getting slapped by nobara.

“why are city people so ungrateful! i think its cute yn!” nobara says.

“i didnt mean it like that it just came out wrong! im just really bad at accepting gifts, i feel like i dont deserve them” yuji says.

“when youre bad at accepting gifts, you dont say ‘i thought it would be bigger meh meh meh’ you say ‘thanks!’” nobara defends you.

“im sorry! i didnt mean to be ungrateful yn!!” yuji pleas.

“i didn’t mean to disappoint you,” you stammered, not sure if your voice was even steady enough to be heard.

you wished you could melt into the floor and disappear. yuji glanced up, his eyes softening when he realized how nervous you were.

“it just came out wrong! its really cute, yn.” yuji apologized repeatedly, though it didn’t do much to ease your anxiety.

when class ended, you slowly packed out while the other 1st years quickly departures to the field.

yuji stayed behind slightly, having to clip the keychain onto the strap of his bag.

he gave you a quick look before saying “thanks for the gift, anyways i have to catch up with them. see you later yn!”

you saw him turn and leave, and it felt depressing. the thoughtful gift you had chosen, a small sign of your feelings, was received with a lack of indifference.

you couldnt understand why it stung so deeply. its not like you thought he would be head over heels for the present—it was merely a birthday gesture—but the sense of disappointment lingered around you.

you told yourself that it didnt matter. that yuji was a good person and probably didn’t mean to make you feel this way. but the quiet ache inside you wouldnt go away.

later that evening in bed you think about every second, the silence in the room interrupted by the clicking of a clock.

you repeat the events today in your head over and over, it wasnt that yuji meant to hurt you, you know he didnt. but something about the way he reacted hurt you emotionally.

you had hoped he would see it for what it was—a small gesture of appreciation, a way of showing that you cared. although being compared to gojos gift he was indifferent.

you clenched the blanket in your hands, the weight of the disappointment settling heavy in your chest.

maybe i expected too much

you stared at the dark ceiling, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between you. you had tried so hard to show him you cared, and yet, it felt like you were invisible.

GAH YUJI WOULDNT DO THIS

[castellanapologist]

Insta

(hey y’all wrote this tipsy on my vacation after seeing that tiktok and insta story. it is terrible, written exactly how i talk and is all in lowercase but i do not care. i probably will write porn of this later. requests will be done soon 🙌🏻. love you baddies)

luke was a slut. that had to be the only explanation for his behavior. how dare he. how dare he post that stupid sexy picture. your brow twitches as your thumb holds down on the screen, his story frozen. you had already screenshotted it the minute you saw it but damn. had to keep coming back to look at it. the red heart in the corner mocked you, practically screaming how desperate you were.

yep. luke was a slut. posted this for likes and for bitches to slide up on it. you have to take a deep breath at the thought of some girl sending the heart eyes emoji and him responding. it’s not like you could blame the girls, hell you almost slid up too. but it would be different if you did it…somehow.

transfixed, your eyes roam appreciatively along his biceps and hand. his stupid sharp jawline. you were a bit sad you couldn’t see his pretty eyes but quickly disregarded it to ogle his body once more. his ring stands out to you and your mind quickly goes into the gutter imagining what it would feel like when he’s knuckle deep inside you. before you can think twice, you’re sliding up and sending him a message.

“whore behavior”

you let out a small giggle before closing instagram, your fingers automatically opening another social in its wake. when a notification comes through not even 2 minutes later, your eyebrows shoot up seeing its from him. you barely read it before you click on it, sitting up in bed.

“didn’t you heart it?”

damn. he caught you. your fingers start typing again.

“whores can look good”

you wait a few seconds in chat before he hearts your message. he types for a bit before stopping. you’re chewing at your lip as you eagerly wait for him to continue the banter.

“appreciate that. you look good too.” then another message. “not in a whore way though.”

you almost drop your phone in shock. was he serious? blinking, you realize you should probably answer. hearting the message, you quickly begin to type again.

“i’m sure you’ve said that to every person who’s slid up today”

it’s a risky move you have to admit. balancing between the line of sounding insecure yet flirtatious. he reads it but doesn’t respond for a minute or so. you contemplate deleting it for a second but he’s already seen it.

“nah, you’re the only person who’s called me a whore so had to respond.”

hearting his message once more, you exit the chat for a second. your heart is pounding out of your chest. holy shit. you and luke were dming. you beg any higher power there is that you don’t fumble. another notification catches your attention and you thank that same higher power for the good karma. luke has double texted.

“but i gotta know, what’s so whorish about the pic?”

if you were weaker, you’d be kicking your feet. who are you kidding, you’re totally kicking your feet as you reply.

“you’re totally flexing in that story. plus what man posts himself?”

he sends a crying emoji back making you giggle. the banter continues for a few moments and it almost feels like y’all have been texting for ages. your cheeks hurt from smiling at your phone like an idiot. whatever you had done to deserve this, you knew you’d be doubling it next time. it’s getting late yet you didn’t wanna get up and start your night time routine so you decided to put it off for a few minutes more. his next text makes you drop your phone, gaping at the words like a fish out of water.

“wyd tonight?”

holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. with trembling hands, you pick up your phone again. okay. you need to play this cool.

“nothing much. you?”

he types for a few seconds before the bubble goes away. fuck. your heart is pounding.

“i was thinking i could show you actual whore behavior.”