#I think I’m finally fixing my sleep schedule

[valewritessss]

You know those pads that have menthol to soothe the cramps or whatever? Yeah so they’re not soothing anything but they’re definitely distracting me from the pain bc ts is like spicy so they work but not in the way I was told it would work

[inkats]

my head feels like the saw bathroom minus the gay sex.

[talkdutchtome]

"Let me take care of you" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . smut )

summary . . . after a disastrous race, you take care of max the best way you know how )

warning . . . smut, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, use of petnames, sub!max, very soft dom!reader, traumatized maxie, not proofread )

word count . . . 2800 words )

a/n . . . this actually ended up a lot more emotional than i intended it to be but i hope everyone likes it anyway. i don't know if my smut writing is getting better or worse tbh. any and all feedback is always appricated <3 )

Max was a perfectionist; anyone could see that. He also had a desire to win like nobody else. He never let up. It didn’t matter to him if it was a title deciding race or a completely meaningless one, he needed to win. It had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember; second place is first loser after all. So naturally, when his brakes failed, and his car very literally caught fire in the Australian Grand Prix causing him to have to retire three laps into the race; you knew he was not going to take it well.  

You were watching along in the garage, and the only thing you could think about as his smoking car pulled up to the pits was how hard on himself he was going to be. The fact that it was through no fault of his own was irrelevant. He had just handed a win to Ferrari, and that made his blood boil.  

In typical Max fashion, you barely saw him after he retired too. He gave you a quick hug as he reached the garage but after that it was straight back to business. He made his way to the pit wall and immediately began discussing with Christian and GP what exactly happened and how do they fix it for Japan. He sent you a text that he was going to stay late at the track with the mechanics so that you should just head back to the hotel.  

Truthfully, Max was avoiding you. You had only been dating Max for a couple of months, and so far you had only seen him dominate on track. And whilst you were concerned that that he would be beating himself up for disappointing himself or the team, he was busy focusing on how he had disappointed you. You had taken time out of your busy university schedule to travel to the other side of the world to see him race, and he had to retire three laps in. He was used to people living through him, taking his wins as theirs. He had never considered that all you cared about that he was safe and didn’t get hurt.  

So, you went to the hotel and waited for him; or at least you tried to. Tiredness and jet lag eventually started to catch up to you, and you had just started to drift off to sleep when you heard the door open. Looking up greet Max, you could see immediately how heavy the weight he bore on his shoulders hung.  

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” You asked him sleep in your voice still evident. Max just hung his head and walked into the bathroom. He half expected you to berate him. To question him on exactly what went wrong and what he’s going to do to fix it.  

“Maxie?” You asked again, as he came in from the bathroom and made his way to his side of the bed, his eyes routed to the floor. This time he just grunted at you in response before getting into bed and turning away from you. He did not have the energy to be told everything he did wrong and why - he had already had that from his dad.  

“Please talk to me Maxie, I’m worried.” You pleaded at him, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around him. You wanted that more than anything, but you sensed that he maybe didn’t feel the same.  

“What do you want Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice cracking.  

“Are you okay? I know that was tough result to take but it’s only once race. We both know you’ll be back better than ever for the next one.”  

To your words, Max just grunted again. And this time you couldn’t help but reach over to hold him. Wrapping one of your arms around his waist and the other coming up to brush through his hair. You waited cautiously for him to pull away. A moment passed and he began to move, your heart sank; he clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near you right now. But instead of moving away, he just turned around, bringing himself closer to you, resting his head on your chest.  

“I just hate to let the team down” he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper, like he wasn’t 100% convinced if he should be saying anything.  

“But baby you didn’t let them down, you did nothing wrong. There was an issue with the car that isn’t your fault.” You gazed down at his face, your hands smoothing through his hair.  

“I could have done something. Maybe I pushed the brakes too much. Maybe I went too hard. All I know is that I let the team down. I let my dad down. I let you down. You cam-“ He started to ramble, but you had heard enough.   

“Whoa Max baby slow down. I can’t speak for the team or your dad, but you certainly did not let me down. All that matters to me is that you didn’t get hurt. I was so worried; you were literally driving a car that was on fire. You could have been hurt.”  

As the words left your mouth, he looked up at you. Almost as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. When his eyes met yours and he realized you were being sincere, he hugged tighter into you.  

“I love you Y/N” he spoke and before you could say anything, you felt him bring his mouth to your neck. Leaving hot open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone up to until he met your mouth. His lips crashed against yours. The kiss was hungry and desperate. His hands found your hair and his teeth nipped at your lips. He quickly found himself getting lost in you and you weren’t too far behind. But when his hands wandered towards the bottom of your pajama top, you had to pull away.  

“Wait, Maxie. Are you sure you want to do this? You’ve had a rough day, are you sure you want to do this. We could just go to sleep if you’d prefer.” You didn’t want him to feel like this was something he needed to do.  

But when his lips once again found your neck, it was clear you had your answer. “Please” he mumbled against your skin “I just want to forget” between each word he left a kiss on your neck, before beginning to nibble against that one spot on your neck that he knew always sent you completely insane. He left deep purple marks all down your neck and you couldn’t help but let a moan slip through your lips.  

You were about to completely cave into his touch before you had an idea, and before you could overthink whether it was a good idea, you swung your legs over him until you had him pinned underneath you, your legs either side of his. A smirk plastered across your face 

Max looked completely taken aback at your action, but the second you leant down to kiss him, your lips just slightly brushing against his; he was starstruck and could feel himself growing harder by the second, which only deepened your smirk.  

“Let me take care of you baby” you whispered in his ear before beginning to grind your core against him. The whimper that left Max’s lips took you both by surprise but, taking that as confirmation that he wanted you to take control; you attached your lips to his neck, trailing kisses down his chest until you reached the waistband of his underwear. It was clear from the way that his hard dick strained against the cloth that Max was enjoying this new side of you, and you could be lying if you said it didn’t give you a bit of a confidence boost. 

You started to tease him, placing warm kisses over his underwear, but when you hear him try and fail to beg you to touch him, it becomes clear that maybe today isn’t the day to tease him. So, you hook your fingers around his waistband and release him from the tight confines of the cloth. Immediately, your mouth found his cock, your lips wrapping around his tip. Max’s moans filled the air as he came apart like putty in your hands. The way that your tongue swirled around him made him go crazy. He reached out his hands to grab your hair in a makeshift pony, but you dodged him. Max honestly thought he was going to cry when you took your mouth off him. 

“No baby, I told you I was going to take care of you, you just sit back and let me do everything” you told him before quickly placing a kiss on his lips before reattaching your mouth to Max’s throbbing dick and bringing your hand to the part of it that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Max felt lightheaded; it’s not like you hadn’t given him a blowjob before, but never like this. He couldn’t ever remember being this turned on before. He had never even considered letting you take control, letting you take care of him so intently before; but now that he was experiencing it – he kicked himself for waiting so long. 

The sounds coming from your boyfriend were music to your ears and only encouraged you to make him feel better and better. You could feel yourself getting wetter, completely desperate to feel him inside of you; but today was about Max, you’d happily wait longer for your own pleasure to take care of him. You began taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, earning more moans from Max. You had never heard him be so vocal before. Things got even better for him when you hallowed your cheeks and brought your hand up to his balls, massaging them in your hands as you worked his dick in your mouth.   When his tip hit the very back of your throat and you gagged around him, he was so loud you were just slightly concerned that whoever was in the room next door would be up for a rude awakening.  

“Oh, fuck baby, oh my god. I’m so close” Max just about managed to get out between moans, promoting you to once again let go of his dick. For a second Max looked at you with puppy dog eyes, silently begging you to take him back in your mouth. But as soon as you stood up and very slowly pulled your pajama shorts down, he realized that there were better things to come.  

“Do you want me to ride you, Maxie?” you asked him breathlessly earning another groan from the man lying on the bed. 

“Fuck, yes. Please please ride me I need to be inside of you more than anything” Max’s voice was weak; it was becoming all too much for him. And when you finally rid yourself of your pajama top, Max started to see stars. Your tits were his weakness, and you knew that all too well. All he wanted was to take them in his mouth, to suck and bite on your nipples. So, when you straddled him once again, that's exactly what he did. You thought about stopping him again, reminding him that tonight was about him and his pleasure; but when you caught sight of his eyes – usually so bright and sparkling. Now they were so dark, so filled with lust and desperation, you didn’t have the heart to deprive him of one of his favorite things to do.  

You leant down to kiss him again, and the taste of his own precum on your tongue made him groan feverishly against your lips. Unable to wait anymore, you finally lowered yourself onto his dick. Now it was your turn to let out a string of moans and profanity. The way that he stretched you out was a feeling that you could never grow old of. After a beat to get used to having him inside of you, you began to bounce on top of him, pumping his dick in and out of your tight desperate pussy.  

“Oh my god Maxie you feel so good, your huge dick sends me so crazy” You moan out, completely cock drunk. “You fuck me so good, god nobody makes me feel like you can” Your praise made Max moan louder than ever and then he simply couldn’t help himself anymore; he brought his hands up to your hips and began thrusting hard into you. You wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him to let you take care of him – but when he rammed his cock into g-spot you physically couldn’t ask him to stop doing something that felt so good.  

“I love you so much Y/N baby” Max croaked out, bringing his mouth back to your tits and his hand down to your clit. Him touching you for the first time tonight meant it was now time for you to see stars. His expert hands rubbing against your clit brought you closer and closer to release and you could tell from the way that Max’s thrusts became deeper and harder that he wasn’t far behind you. 

Wanting to finish what you had started; you placed your hands on his chest – signaling him to stop for a second. Max did so very reluctantly, but when you started to bounce on his dick again his eyes rolled back into his head. After each bounce you grinded yourself down on him, desperate to get him as deep as you possibly could. Your climax was getting closer and closer and soon you felt like you were ready to burst. 

“I’m going to cum on your dick okay baby? You just make me feel so good I can’t help myself.” you told the man beneath you breathlessly, prompting Max to resume rubbing circles into your clit. 

“Please do. Please cum all over my cock I need that so much” Max croaked out and with that you fell over the edge. A wave of pleasure washed over you and you screamed out for Max. It felt so good you thought you were going to pass out, completely taken over by the pleasure that Max’s hard dick had given you. For a few moments, you simply had to still yourself to let yourself recover. 

Once you had ridden out the last of your orgasm, you were ready to go again; ready to make Max feel as good as you possibly could. You began grinding down onto him, squeezing yourself against him. After feeling you cumming all over him, Max knew he wouldn’t need long before he was right behind you.  

“Fuck Y/N I’m really close, get off and I’ll finish in your mouth” Max just about got out between moans. When you didn’t get off and instead began bouncing faster and harder, Max really thought he might just die.  

“Cum inside of me Maxie please, I need your cum fucked so deep inside me”  

“Fuck really?” 

“Yeah, i need it so bad.” 

“Oh my god Y/N, you’ll be the fucking death of me” 

The second those words left his mouth, he fell apart. A string of profanity left his lips, and you could feel his dick pulse inside of you as he painted the insides of you white with his cum. Max couldn’t believe how good it felt, sex with you was always great but that was on another level, he couldn’t remember ever feeling that good before. 

“I love you so much Y/N” 

He gently slipped himself out of you and you collapsed next to him on the bed. Exhausted wasn’t the word for how tired you felt after that. And apparently that was true for Max as well as in the time that it took you to waddle to the toilet to clean yourself up, he had managed to fall asleep. You couldn’t blame him of course; even before that it had been a very long tiering day for him. So, as quietly as you could, you got ready for bed and slipped yourself into bed next to him.  

Looking at the very peaceful sleeping man next to you, you couldn’t help but snuggle down close to him. Placing a kiss on his temple before assuming the big spoon position that you know he loves so much from you. Your movement causing him to ever so slightly stir awake. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me” he spoke so softly you almost missed it before falling right back into a very peaceful sleep. You couldn’t help but feel so lucky to have a man like him cuddled close to you. 

“Sleep well Maxie, I love you more than anything.” 

[babyleostuff]

bike chase

𝜗𝜚 GENRE: fluff, established (secret) relationship 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!dino x idol!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 2.2k

SYNOPSIS: you are his secret, and he is yours. so what happens when a paparazzi catches you on a date?

“fix your hat, baby.” 

“huh?” chan looked up from his phone, his handsome face on full display. if you could have it your way, you’d never let him wear anything to cover the bright eyes, and beautiful smile that you fell in love with (hiding a face like that was technically a crime), but in your world it was impossible. as much as you’d wish to show off your boyfriend, and you knew chan was dying to share your pictures on his instagram as well, you were grateful you could make it work anyway. 

not every idol was as lucky as you were. 

“your hat,” you sighed, and kicked the kickstand down so your bike wouldn’t fall. your boyfriend  was still focused on his phone when you grabbed his face to fix the bucket hat so it would properly cover his face. “we have to be careful, remember.” 

the chance of bumping into someone was slim, like - there was a reason why you went on a biking trip at 2 am - it was the only time you had an illusion of privacy. it was just a matter of time before someone would recognise you anyway, but at least you could hold hands without being paranoid about the people around you. ever since the Han River incident last month when some paps recognised you (and took some quite unflattering pics, in your opinion), you learned your lesson to step up on your dressing up as undercover spies game. thankfully the photos were so blurry that your companies had no problem with denying the rumours. 

“thank you,” chan mumbled, and placed a peck on your forehead. you couldn’t stop the giggle that left your mouth - he looked way too endearing with his concentrated expression, but he was the one to insist that he’d manage to find your way back home. you were officially banned from helping him. 

“how’s it going?” you brushed your thumb over his lower lip. “will i sleep in my bed today or do i need to find a comfortable bench for the night?” 

“hey, have some faith in me,” he whined, finally looking up from his phone. “it’s not my fault the maps aren’t working. look,” he showed you the open map app he’d been struggling with for the past twenty minutes as if to prove that he wasn’t not the problem here, “the service sucks here.” 

“maybe we should’ve invested in some old fashioned maps,” you sighed, and leaned your head on chan’s shoulder. 

being up at the late hour wasn’t something unusual for the both of you, but you wouldn’t lie - after a full day of schedules and rehearsals you were getting kind of tired. not to mention you were biking for the past hour, so being stuck in the middle of nowhere was not an ideal situation for you. 

as if chan noticed your energy dropping, he put an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to his body. “tired?” he asked, his mouth brushing your cheek.  

“a bit.” 

“i’m sorry. it was my idea to go on a bike ride, we should’ve just stayed home.” 

you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s annoying habit of apologising for every small thing he thinks he's done wrong. “listen to me, lee chan,” you grabbed his chin, and rolled up the front of his bucket hat, so you could see him properly. “if i have to be stuck with someone, i’m happy that it’s you. besides, i agreed to the whole biking trip, so please - stop apologising.” 

he gave you a smile, clearly still feeling a bit guilty. there weren't many things you could do together without being seen, so chan took it upon himself to come up with fun, yet safe ways to spend your dates without being noticed. not that you needed it - as long as you were with him, what you did didn't matter, but your boyfriend had a heart of gold, so you couldn't tell him he didn't have to try so hard. 

“i love you,” the sincerity in his voice made you melt every time he said those three words. you’d never get bored of hearing them in person, not when you usually got them through messages or phone calls.  

“love you too,” you said, and kissed his lips softly, before rolling down the front of his hat. “but channie?” 

“hm?”

“maybe i can help you after all. i’m sure we’ll figure the maps out together.” 

“yeah i think that’s a good idea,” he let out a quiet giggle, and lowered the phone so you could see the screen. you put your arm around his waist, because your boyfriend’s personal space was also your personal space, and you quickly fell into a comfortable silence. if your legs weren’t aching, and tummy rumbling from the lack of food, you’d tease chan for giving up on his big boy job to get you home, but you didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty than he was already feeling.  

it was kind of ironic how you wanted to get away from the hussle of the city, and now ended up god knows where. 

“did you hear that?” he asked suddenly, turning his head towards the trees. 

you followed his gaze to where he was looking, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. “no, i don’t think so. maybe you just heard an animal or something,” you said. usually you weren't easily scared, chan was the scaredy-cat in your relationship, but the dark surroundings and lack of people did their job. especially since the boy in front of you suddenly acted like he had seen a ghost.

"i could’ve sworn," he muttered, looking around, "that i heard the clicking of a camera."

hearing this, you took a better look around you, because the sound of the camera didn't mean anything good in your case. 

"are you sure…" and that's when you heard it too.

click.

"chan?" you looked at your boyfriend, panicked. "what now?"

the boy grabbed your chin so that you wouldn't accidentally turn towards the person who apparently liked to follow people at night and take photos of them.

“don't turn around and listen to me,” chan swallowed, “we'll get on our bikes and leave.”

if you weren't panicked enough before, you definitely were now. "and this is your great plan?" you shouted at him quietly, as if the person hiding in the bushes could hear you.

"do you have a better idea, honey?"

you shook your head because no, you didn't, so all you really had was chan’s mistermind plan. running away from the paparazzi sounded crazy though, like something out of a bad rom-com, but what else were you supposed to do? the worst part was that you didn't know how long this person had been following you, or if they had just noticed you - and whether they realised who you actually were.

"on three?" chan ran his thumb along your chin. a small smirk appeared on his face, as if the idea of escaping on a bike was the best date idea ever. 

nodding, you took a few steps back to blindly find the handle of your bike. you finally managed to find the kickstand too and kicked it up, now fully ready for the craziest thing you were going to do this week.

"one."

everything will be fine.

"two."

what could go wrong?

"three!"

as if burned, you turned around, making sure to keep your head down so that your face wasn't visible, and jumped on the bike. you had never started pedalling so fast, but the adrenaline pumping through your veins gave you more energy than ever. you just had time to turn around to see if the person had come out of the bushes to follow you, but you didn't see anything.

with new energy, you kept following your boyfriend, who, like you, was pedalling as fast as he could. what a pity that chan was a born dancer with thighs and an ass that many men envied, which meant you had to pedal twice as fast. what fun.

"i think we lost him!" you shouted so that he could hear you.

chan turned around with a huge smile on his face and you couldn't help but laugh. your hair was swirling around your face, and you had to grab your head to keep your own hat from falling off - that’s how fast you were running away from your new friend. who would have thought that the night would end like this. 

but suddenly, the smile on your boyfriend's face disappeared and was replaced by an expression of surprise and horror at the same time.

"he's on a bike!" he shouted.

what?!

you quickly looked behind you, a little scared of what you might see. and damn chan, but he wasn't wrong - the guy, even though he was a bit behind you, was riding a bike with a camera over his shoulder.

he looked comical, although you suspected you two didn't look any better.

"faster," chan shouted and turned to see where he was going, "we have to lose him!"

now it was no longer looking like a rom-com but a low-budget action movie with very bad actors and an even worse villain. you couldn't wait to do a live talking about how you ran away from some random dude on a bike. 

your thighs burned like hell, and you felt like you were slowly getting out of breath, but it didn't slow you down at all. you mentally thanked yourself for all those hours spent at the gym, though you’d never think they’d come in handy for a bike chase. 

“are you okay?” you heard chan yell. 

“yeah, keep going.” 

you wouldn’t let a weirdo with a camera beat you. 

you finally entered an area where buildings started to appear, and without thinking, you followed the boy in front of you as he turned into an alley that looked more than suspicious.

"is he still there?" 

you glanced behind you and like a maniac, the guy with the camera was still pedalling. 

"yes!"

"is he serious?"

you drove through the street and entered another one, making a sharp turn. it's a good thing you two weren't driving a car because you didn't know how much you could’ve trusted chan in a car chase. your boyfriend was driving fifty kilometres an hour, even when the limit was seventy.

a few turns later, you turned around again to see how far your friend was, and luckily he wasn't as fit as you, because you didn't see him anywhere. poor fella probably got tired. 

"i think we lost him!"

chan nodded but didn't slow down. who knew where this paparazzi could suddenly appear from. but to be honest, if you could you’d applaud him for his dedication, not everyone had the drive to chase two idols on a random tuesday night through the streets of seoul.

"baby," chan suddenly stopped and got off the bike. because of how fast you were going, your brakes squeaked when you pressed them. "come here." the boy jumped off his bike and looked at you before disappearing into the narrow alley.

you didn't even want to ask what he was doing, so without any questions you got off your bike and went in the direction where your boyfriend had just disappeared. the alley was very narrow, barely able to fit the two of you, let alone your bikes, but you somehow managed to hide yourselves, so you weren't visible from the main street.

"why..." but before you could finish your question, you heard someone panting, and a second later, right next to you, the paparazzi who had been chasing you for the last fifteen minutes biked past.

you snorted and poked your head out to make sure that the guy disappeared, or if he maybe had decided to look for you here. luckily he wasn't smart enough, and was nowhere in sight.

you looked at your boyfriend, who like you was out of breath, but oh so pleased with himself.

"you don't have to thank me," he said, and as if on cue, that annoyingly handsome smirk returned to his face.

“you idiot,” you huffed and pushed his arm.

"i told you today would be fun," he said and leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. now that your adrenaline was starting to wear off and you felt how exhausted you actually were, you realised how close you and chan were. 

yes, you were both sweaty and smelly as hell, and there were beads of sweat dripping from your boyfriend's forehead, but he seemed as handsome to you as ever. his messy hair, his chest rapidly rising up and down, the sleeves of his compression shirt hugging his strong biceps - he was a sight for sore eyes. 

and only for you to see. 

"you're right, lover boy," you said, because it was true. despite all your fear, you didn't think the guy managed to get any decent photos, and you'd worry about your companies later and in the end, you had a great time. "but do you know what?"

"what?" chan smiled cockily and leaned towards you.

just as he was about to kiss you, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away.

"we still have to get home somehow."

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[ravcnism]

HEY uhm.. i've been having this idea.. like imagine kenji sato x m!reader athlete as well? help, i just thought the dynamic would be cute. it could be a rival team on the baseball league or another sports. I just thought it would be cool!

STRIKEOUT. — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: The Hiroshima Toyo Carp may have a new player in town, but his name is nowhere near unheard of. The prized star pitcher of The States takes the country by storm when he spontaneously shows up against the Yomiuri Giants. Ken Sato’s career is given a run for its money.

# # TAGS: Longform, Enemies to Lovers but like Still Enemies as Lovers, A LOT of Tension, Sports Anime-Level of Ridiculous, Star-Athlete!Male Reader, Author Doesn't Actually Know Anything About Baseball, Sort of a Slow Burn? No Beta We Die Like Onda

# # WARNINGS: Mild Violence, Mature Language, Eventual Smut if I’m Brave Enough, English is not My First Language, Around 2000 Words, Part One of ??

Night fell promptly upon the Sato residence. The sun had tucked itself into the sea and left a trail of gold in its warm, glistening wake. From afar, the ever-lively city of New Tokyo lit up street by street.

Beneath the water, in the basement, a newly-bathed Emi waddled towards her corner of the house; smelling of fresh sakura petals, and cuddling a half-crushed Nissan Skyline GT-R. Full from dinner, and satisfied by her shower, she felt the gentle arms of sleep coaxing her to a nap. With a squeaky yawn, and a stretch of her arm, she succumbed to its calls and laid on her spot on the ground. A very amused Hayao Sato came walking after her. “Silly girl. The bath and snack combo never fails to knock you out, huh?”

Kenji Sato, well-dressed for a night out, entered after. He was preoccupied by his sleeves, fingers fumbling to button them shut. “Remember, Dad. No videos after 10 pm. We can’t ruin her sleep schedule again.”

“Of course, Kenji.” His father waved him off with his cane. “You act as if I don’t know her routine like the back of my hand.”

“I’m just making sure.” He was fixing his hair, then, gelling it into place. His eyes narrowed at his own reflection, trying to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. “And of course you’ve got Mina to help.”

“Definitely, Ken.” As if on cue, the round hovering bot came floating in. “We have everything under control. You needn’t worry about us here.”

Professor Sato chuckled at his son, leaning on his good foot. “You seem to have a lot of nervous energy in you, Kenji.”

The batter sighed, tugging on his collar one last time. “I’m always nervous when I’m not playing.” Deciding he looked alright, Ken left his reflection alone. “No idea why. Might have something to do with my dislike towards things that I can’t control, but I’m not gonna get into that right now–” He shuffled about, searching frantically for his jacket. “Mina, where did I put my–?” An extended robot arm appeared from the floor and handed it to him. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Try to enjoy yourself anyway, Kenji.” Professor Sato had walked over to Emi, who was fast asleep, snoring slightly. He lifted a hand and rubbed her head. “I think it’s good that you go to these games even when you’re not scheduled. I can tell it lifts your team’s spirits.”

“Yeah, well, honestly I’m still trying to get used to it. The whole sportsmanship thing.” Ken sprayed his cologne on. He made a quick jog towards Emi and kissed her cheek. “Sleep tight, Sweetie.” He looked at his dad. With his motorcycle keys now in hand, he walked backwards to their glass elevator. “If anything happens, call me. You know the drill.”

“Yes, Ken,” replied Mina. “We do. Rest assured, there will not be a repeat of last time.”

“Right, right. Last time.” Kenji forced out a laugh. “Look, if she wakes up and I’m not home yet, try to get her to tire herself out. Load up a park. Throw some balls. But no flying outside, please? You know she gets carried away.”

“Understood.”

With a final glance, and a reluctant sigh, he stepped into the lift. “I’ll be back soon.” Leaving her 20-foot Kaiju-of-a-daughter never got any easier — no matter how many times he had gone and done it. He waved his family a quick goodbye, before disappearing from their line of sight.

His dad was right. It was good that he was going. The Giants had a game to win.

"Good evening sports fans! Ladies and gentlefolk, we welcome you to the highly anticipated matchup between the Hiroshima Toyo Carp and your Yomiuri Giants.”

The stadium was bright and buzzing with excitement. Ken was used to the energy, but he never grew tired of it. There was something almost magical about having this many people in a stadium together. Something electrifying about hearing their collective voices. Whether or not he was set to play, the crowd was what grounded him into focus. He adored their cheers, regardless of who it was directed to.

“We’ve got an intense start to the game so far, the home crowd doesn’t look too happy with Tateoka’s second strikeout.”

“How's it looking?” Ken appeared beside his teammate, Yuki, who was watching the game by the barriers.

“Bad. We're dying out there, Sato. Tateoka's our second batter. We're down one strikeout.”

Ken's brows knitted together, intrigued. He had gotten here a little late and missed a good chunk of the first inning. He had missed most of the commentary, too, so he was pretty much left in the dark. All he knew was that the home crowd didn't look too cheerful. And neither did Coach Shimura. ( Though technically, he couldn't remember a time when Shimura looked anything less than disappointed. ) Ken settled into his spot, nursing a canned soda.

The pitcher’s back was against him, his jersey name too far for him to read. He couldn't see who it was. Ken took notice of their form. Their figure. “Wait, who's throwing again?”

His teammate dropped a name so familiar it sent Ken choking on his drink.

“Fucking, who?” He dropped the name of a famous star-athlete. A name he saw on billboards, news reports, articles. A name so expensive it put his vintage cars to shame. A name with a strikeout rate so disgustingly high it had the best teams falling to their knees. A staggering 1.75 ERA. Almost zero walks. Your name, sent a shiver down Ken Sato’s spine. You, the Mets’ notorious Bullet, now a surprise player of the Toyo Carp.

He watched as you turned around. Your face came into view. You were frighteningly calm. The Giants’ batter was one strike away from an out. Kenji swallowed thickly. “When the hell did he get here?”

“Yeah. Apparently they traded him to Carp a week ago. Didn't get much buzz for some reason.” Yuki scoffed. “Think they covered it up? Element of surprise? It was a pretty big move.”

The fact that Kenji had never been put up against you before was sheer dumb luck. That's what he thought, anyway. Despite the fact that the both of you had been celebrities in The States, the seasons just never aligned well enough to get the both of you to play at the same park. But he hadn't dreamed of it. Who in their right mind would? Like a bullet from a gun, your pitches were unstoppable. You had a mutant-like control over the ball. There were studies on the physics of your technique. Even the best batters would miss your throws. And at that moment, as he watched his teammate strike himself out, Kenji wondered if he'd miss, too.

He wouldn't have to keep wondering. Understanding the weight of your presence, the Yomiuri Giants opted to bring in the calvary.

“Sato.” Ken flinched at Shimura’s voice. He looked over his shoulder, facing him. “Locker room. Get dressed — I'm calling you up.”

He laughed, nervously. “You sure that's legal, coach?” He wasn't scheduled to play today, and spontaneously entering a non-player into the field was only allowed upon certain circumstances. Like an injury, for example.

“Of course it is.” Shimura grumbled. “Tokuda just broke his arm.”

The mentioned Tokuda stood behind him, sipping on some soda, with his obviously not-broken arm. “You heard the man, Ken. I just broke my arm.”

Ken grimaced, heading for the door. “The press is going to love this…” Japan's finest batter, versus The States’ fastest pitcher. Oh, this would make the headlines for sure.

Kenji did as he was told. He walked into the locker room, then walked out in full-attire. The speakers crackled to life. There was a steady rise in the crowd’s demeanor. People were slowly piecing the situation together. The announcers were losing their minds. “And It looks like — oh my goodness, folks. I don't believe this. Ken Sato has been called up into the field!”

The stadium went alight. Ken walked into the park and wondered if the lights were a little brighter than usual. He was doing his stretches, rolling his shoulders. His bat was handed to him and he flipped it in his hand. He allowed the cheers to boost his energy, and perhaps a bit of his ego.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we might be witnessing baseball history tonight! Two of the opposing team’s star players have come face to face for the first time ever. And it's happening right here, right now.”

You met his eyes. Ken’s breath hitched. You were so… intense. He couldn't properly describe it. You watched him move into position like a lion stalking its prey.

“Will Sato stop the Toyo Carp’s brand new Bullet? Or will he walk out of this game bleeding?”

The trick was to look them in the eye. A pitcher was no different from a batter when it came to a game. They shared the same weight of responsibility. The only time a stadium is silent is when they're standing face to face. Like a duel. One of Ken’s techniques was staring them down and reminding them that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was Ken Sato, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately for him, you were unshaken. Which he would’ve been offended by, if he were younger and more immature. No matter, he had other things to look for. Like the cues. Each pitcher had their own cue; a sort of tell that told Ken what kind of throw they’d be going for. He didn’t hit those pitches out of pure luck. Contrary to popular belief, he was actually thinking these games through. There were a plethora of things to look at. A pitcher’s stance, their position, which hand they were using. In an easier game, Ken would be able to read these pitchers like an open book.

But if you were a book, then you would've been written in a different language. He could find no such cues. He didn’t really have anything to calculate. You were as unpredictable as you were quick. None of his usual techniques seemed to be working on you.

The last resort: keep your eye on the damn ball, and freakin’ swing.

You held your hand outward, fingers pointed at him. There was a kind of hunger in your eyes, an expression that made Ken’s heart skip a beat. Your focused glare made him feel as if a red dot had appeared on his forehead. Like you had marked him for prey. It felt… personal. Like it wasn’t a part of the game, and you were only pointing at him. A threat. A dare.

You pulled your pitching arm back. He swore he heard a gun cock. The stadium went quiet. The crowd held its breath. So did Ken. He tightened his grip on his bat. He waited, eagerly, for you to make your move. He was counting the milliseconds, watching you, anticipating your throw, waiting for you to shoot.

And you did.

Ken blinked, and the ball was gone from your hands. He released the breath he was holding through a disbelieved scoff. He turned, and the catcher had stumbled slightly, holding your ball. The crowd grew into disarray, a rising cacophony of cheers and boos. They just couldn’t believe it. Ken Sato not only missed your pitch, but wasn’t able to move at all. He couldn’t even swing. You were too fast. Too abrupt.The ball was a white blur, there a moment, then gone the next. It wasn’t an issue of the curve, nor the direction. It was just too fucking fast.

His teammates couldn’t believe their eyes. And neither did his coach. Ken craned his head to look at you. You stared back at him, stone-faced.

He took a breath to regain his composure, resuming his earlier stance. He would never admit it, but he was rattled. He was trying to understand how that throw was humanly possible. How he had somehow forgotten to move. He could do nothing more but stand haunted as he heard the resounding “strike one!” from the umpire. This wasn’t the first time he’d missed, but it was the first time he froze. It was a spectacle to all, and a moment of horror for his fans. Did the Unstoppable Ken Sato finally meet his match? Even if he did, he was determined not to lose a second time.

“Okay,” he whispered. He took a deep, focused breath, slightly shifting his stance. He kept his feet firm on the ground, bat at the ready. “Okay, Hotshot. Bring it on.”

You kept your eyes on him and him alone. You stared at him as if you were the only two people in the stadium. The crowd went silent once again. The Giants fans were desperate to give Sato the focus he so-terribly needed, but the Carp fans were just curious to see how the second pitch would go. The air was thick and heavy with tension.

Like before, you threw your hand out, fingers pointed at Ken. You drew your pitching arm back, like an archer, and there was that sound in his mind again. The cock of a gun. Ken waited. He counted you down. He was a hunter dressed in camo, waiting for a deer to move.

Then, for the first time since he’d seen you, your expression changed. You grinned at him.

Then you winked.

Shit.

You threw the ball. Ken swung.

But he missed.

The crowd erupted into chaos. There was an indistinguishable pandemonium of disdain and celebration. People screamed and jumped and waved their banners as high as they possibly could. A number of them had already entered a state of acceptance — the Giants would lose to a perfect game. No batter would ever get through the wall that was you. But a lot of them kept their faith in the ever-notorious Sato. He could hit the last shot. He could pull this off. He might have been struggling to match your speed, but he would figure it out. They believed in him like he was a god.

And at that moment, as Kenji heard the echoing “strike two!” he certainly felt the anger of one.

Did you just fucking wink? Did you seriously have the audacity to wink at him? Kenji took it personally. Who did you think you were? Though his lips spoke nothing of the foul words he wished so eagerly to shout, it was clear on his face that he wanted you gone. It was one thing to embarrass him with a fastball, but another to rub it in. He wouldn’t let that slide. He wouldn’t allow you to strike him out.

Yoshimura was gripping the barrier so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.“Eyes up, Sato!”

Kenji breathed. Through his nose, this time. He drew a long breath into his entire body and blew it out through his lips. He wouldn’t miss. He couldn’t miss. While he might have already taught himself the humility that came with losing, he hadn’t taught himself jackshit about losing to you.

“If looks could kill,” whispered Ami Wakita, the reporter who watched the game from the press booth. Typing into her laptop, she wrote: “There seems to be obvious tension on the field. Nothing new for Ken Sato, yet, significantly different. Japan’s star player has finally met his match. This game has been a long time coming.”

This was his last chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. Kenji raised his bat, and narrowed his eyes. You weren’t blind to his added efforts, and smirked at him again. Oh, how it made his blood boil.

Point.

Pull.

Throw.

Swing.

This time, the ball made contact.

The crowd blew up once more, exhausting their lungs as they watched the ball fly across the field. Kenji had hit it. Kenji had managed to catch your bullet-of-a-pitch. He dropped his bat to the ground and ran for his life. Base to base, corner to corner. Kenji leapt across the field and jumped for home.

“Safe!”

The crowd went wild. He had heard stadiums cheer for him before, but he didn't think he had ever heard anything this loud. With a relieved laugh, Kenji got up from the ground, and finally caught his breath. His teammates ran to greet him, though they had only passed the first inning. With a round as intense as that one, they felt it was only right to celebrate a little early.

And then he looked at you. Your eyes met. You were smiling at him again. He didn't like the lack of concern on your face. He didn't like that you didn't seem challenged. And he especially didn't like the fact that he was out there playing for his life, while you seemed to have played for a weekend game at the park.

Kenji was glaring at you, as if he was burning holes into your head. You lifted a hand and threw him a casual salute, flicking two fingers towards his direction. Dammit, he thought. That wink really threw him off. Which it shouldn't have.

Unfortunately for him, the game was nowhere near the last time you'd interact.

And there'd be the after-party to boot.

[acotarxreader]

Stress Relief

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't

A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!

Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )

----------------------------------------------------------------

“YN you need to fucking relax”

“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand. 

“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”

“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”

“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled. 

“I’ll relax once we get there”

“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”

“Why are you so fucking anno-”

“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.

“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”

“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background. 

-

You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own. 

“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”

“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel. 

“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks. 

“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case. 

“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree. 

You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder. 

“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?” 

“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness. 

“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you. 

“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.

“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest. 

“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” 

“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest. 

“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag. 

-

“Hey! YNN! Wake up!” 

“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state. 

“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud. 

“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up. 

“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you. 

“Az” you bit out. 

“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”

“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent. 

“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.

“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying. 

“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.

“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek. 

“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy. 

“We’d miss you” he admitted

“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased. 

“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin. 

“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life. 

“I swear I’m going t-”

“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag. 

Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go. 

“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion. 

You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you. 

“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”

“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again. 

Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning. 

“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-

“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won. 

Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage. 

You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning. 

“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything. 

“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away. 

“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?

-

You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory. 

“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment. 

You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian. 

-

The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian. 

“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?” 

“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall. 

“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed. 

“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair. 

“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face. 

“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud. 

“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.

“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake. 

“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile. 

-

After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up. 

“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire. 

“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”

“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.

“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock. 

“I know everyone I said-”

“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words. 

“I know Az but-”

“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding. 

“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”

“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him. 

“I better go-”

“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing. 

-

Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels. 

“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender. 

“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out. 

“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone. 

“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.

“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought. 

“What have I done to you?”

“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders. 

“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so. 

“What?”

“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.

“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.

“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.

“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”

“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.

“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me YN”

“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.

“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”

"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.

“YN- you’re my-”

“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.

“Now you really can’t leave me”

“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.

“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“I want all of you”

Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.

“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it. 

“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.

“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. 

“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state. 

“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure. 

“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly. 

Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. 

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest. 

“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.

“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”

“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”

-------------------------------------------------

Whatcha think friends!

[mvltisstuff]

go home - e.b

summary: why does she feel so lonely but constantly surrounded by people?

angst, fluff, tw for suicidal thoughts, depression, not having any idea why you feel such a way

a/n: hi all <3 i wanted to write this as a way to express my feelings recently, and also as a way to let people know they aren’t alone. please, please stay. text 988, please. someone out there loves you. the river may twist and turn, but it will always meet the sea. i’m sorry if this is a bit messy, but it’s something i wanted to express as i can recognize y/n.

——————————————————————————

the second the alarm went off on her phone, y/n felt the equivalent to a million bees stinging her head. every single day was the exact same thing.

hit snooze.

sleep five more minutes.

wait until work ends.

the bed was freezing cold despite the man beside her. obviously, she felt a love for him that goes for light years, but why did it feel like a chore to show it?

buck and y/n had been together for years. they’ve taken their time with one another, slowly and precariously loving on the other. buck needed y/n like he needed oxygen. he knew her. he knew her like the clouds know the blue sky. he knew her like a flame knows gasoline. he knew her like his heart knows to beat.

he rolled over, hearing her alarm and feeling her body adjust to turn it off. he flung his arm around her upper body, pulling her tightly into him.

“i’m so tired.” she whispers, her morning voice peering through.

“i know,” he takes it as a joke, a temporary feeling of wanting to doze off again. “day off tomorrow, though.”

she didn’t think buck knew what she meant by tired.

she meant exhausted. she meant feeling like a car low on gas, but there’s no station around. she meant feeling like a ghoul had grabbed onto her head, squeezing tightly at all moments. she meant the sinking feeling in her chest that wouldn’t vanish.

finally, buck dragged his girl out of the bed and took her to work. he loved working with her, getting to keep an eye on her at all times. he knows that she’s safe when she’s with him.

y/n loved working with buck. she worked with all of her friends, and had the most rewarding career out there, as well as the hardest.

the losses on the job feel like a string being cut off the guitar. the losses feel like someone came in and plucked away more of the good in the world. there’s no avoiding the losses as a firefighter, but y/n doesn’t understand why she feels absolutely nothing.

she feels like a villain, just wanting to go home and forget about the entire day and the people she saved. she feels selfish and entitled, but she doesn’t have the energy to care, nor to fix the way she’s feeling.

therapy never worked for her, and she doesn’t have the schedule right now, anyway. she didn’t need therapy, at least she doesn’t think so?

not until the morning after her thoughts eat away at her about vanishing. y/n doesn’t want to die, she just wants everything to stop.

she feels like love is never coming for her, even though it’s right in front of her face, screaming at her to pay attention to it. she feels a lack of success and uselessness. there’s always someone better.

buck, as well as the rest of the 118 family, started noticing the symptoms. the classic ones, but also the more hidden ones. buck knew her, how could he not notice?

•

y/n came home from work, finally ready for her day off. she was looking forward to it all week, just thinking about the warm clothes she could slap on and the sleep she could fall into.

she was asleep when buck got home. he nudged it off as being tired, seeing how hard she works first hand. the next day, on her day off, she woke up past noon, took a nap, and was back asleep by 10. buck felt like she moved across the country by the time the next weeks followed.

he felt like he was in a war with himself and y/n’s sleep. he was pushing it away but it was still consistent. she didn’t want to go out for date night, or babysit jee. if he stayed at work longer, he’d come home to her asleep in their bed.

even when she was awake, buck had to ask himself,

did he know her?

•

when bobby cooks, you may as well clear your diet for the rest of the day. one plate was not an option, you’d be crawling back to the pot like it contained gold.

however, just one bite of food recently can make y/n feel like she’s gonna throw up. bobby makes her favorite dishes, but y/n had a distance from it.

they sat at the table, a calm break from the storms outside that were just a call away. y/n sat down first. she’d usually wait for buck to get his plate, but he didn’t mind.

“only one plate, y/n? never seen that before,” chim chimed in.

deep down, somewhere in her, y/n wanted to laugh. she had a voice clawing up in her to just crack a smile. alas, her brain suppressed it again.

“what, im not allowed to not stuff myself ‘til i faint?”

silence. forks stopped scratching against the plate. chewing stopped, even the slightest breath noises slowed. they’d never seen her eyes roll so far to the back of her head without a grin creeping after it.

“uh oh,” eddie adds. “someone’s not happy.”

god, she wanted to scream.

•

the profoundness of the loneliness in her body just dragged her down. it felt like a different foot every day that was going to lead to six. she yearned for people, but it was all she has.

she’s felt this way for far too long, and it’s getting old. she hates it. y/n wants the monster inside of her to be murdered. she can’t fill the deep void inside of her, but she wants it so bad. the depression, meanwhile also trying to diminish her, sapped her whole body and mind. it was a poison that y/n doubted would ever escape. the monster in her was here to stay. it grew stronger the more isolated she got, gaining control that would scare her to death. it was impossible to escape his suffocating grip around her and she didn’t have the courage to fight back on it.

y/n didn’t want to die, but she would let the monster take her away.

weeks passed, and nothing had changed. y/n and buck were two souls combined. he could feel everything happening to her like it was happening to him.

it was two a.m and y/n drove through a whole tank of gas. she went over city lines after telling buck she was going to run errands. errands gone a little long lost in thought. she sped down highways, thinking of swerving off. in certain moments, she would let her hands drift off the wheel and let it guide her.

a mix of fear and disbelief rushed through her veins as the black car sped up to her. y/n going fast wasn’t an invite for him to join. it pissed her off, bad. some random asshole just ruining her peace, which seemed like it always happened to her.

it wasn’t until her front bumper came in contact with the dodge’s rear that her mind had to snap back into itself.

buck waited up for her, regardless. he knew she would come home. y/n would never drop a love as special as that, no matter the fog in her head.

he heard the front door twist and unlock, the door creaking open. he stayed on the couch, waiting to see what she would do. he almost just ignored it, knowing she would just go to bed. but, maybe he didn’t know her.

y/n stood in her sweatpants and her 118 zip up, staring at buck with her hair thrown into a ponytail. “hi.”

“hey, beautiful,” buck replies, gently and his words graze her like a feather. but, the look on her face is nearly unfamiliar. it’s a whole new look of awakening. she looks more alive than he’s seen her in weeks. in contrast, the look on buck’s face contains pure alarm.

her chest rises and falls rapidly, like she’s trying to take in every breath she can. shes never felt this close to the end of her life before. a new fear was unlocked, a phobia of herself.

“i think, um,” she stares at the hardwood floor. buck walks up closer to her, his hands connecting with her forearms to steady her. “i think i need some help.”

“i know, baby,” he starts, rubbing her soft sweatshirt with his hands to warm her skin. “and im gonna help you. we’re gonna help you.”

“i don’t want to die anymore.” buck’s heart sinks into his toes hearing her say that. the woman in front of him, the one who his world revolves around, the one who may as well have her name carved into his back, was telling him she almost gave up.

he couldn’t help but well tears in his eyes, but he fought them back. he allowed her body to slump against his, as they stood in the dim walkway of their apartment.

to love someone is to fight their monsters.

[silent-stories]

𝟐.𝟑𝟎 𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: fluff, angst, anxiety, stress

The soft rustling of the sheets stirred you from your slumber, your hand instinctively reaching out to the other side of the bed, seeking the familiar warmth of Noah.

The cool, empty space that met your fingers made you pause, blinking blearily into the dim light of the room. Your heart sank a little, knowing this scene all too well.

Noah had been off lately—more than usual. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of stress, not only from the intense schedule of rehearsals and recording, but the weight of something heavier. His anxiety, once a background hum, had started to increase, forcing him to make the hard decision of canceling some concert dates.

You knew it wasn’t a decision he’d made lightly. The band meant everything to him, but he had reached a point where the pressure was eating him alive. He couldn’t keep pushing.

But knowing that didn’t make it easier for him.

You glanced at the clock on the nightstand—2:30 AM. Too late for him to still be up, and too early for him to have woken up refreshed. Concern pulled you out of bed, your bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor as you quietly left the room. You had a gut feeling about where he’d be.

As you moved down the hall, the faint glow from the living room met your eyes, confirming your suspicions. The soft, warm light spilled across the floor, casting long shadows against the walls. When you rounded the corner, there he was, sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands gripping his hair as though trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control.

The sight made your heart ache.

Noah’s shoulders were hunched, the weight of everything pressing down on him in the most physical way possible. He looked lost in his own mind, a quiet storm brewing behind his brown eyes.

Without saying a word, you walked over and gently sat down beside him. His body tensed at first, but the moment your hand found its way to his back, rubbing soft circles between his shoulder blades, he let out a shaky breath, the tension slowly unraveling at your touch.

He didn’t look up immediately, but his hand reached for yours, lacing his fingers with yours as he took in a deep, grounding breath.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the night.

Noah shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor, his voice quiet and strained when he finally spoke. “I didn’t want to keep you up,” he mumbled, his grip tightening on your hand. “I just… I can’t shut it off. My brain won’t stop.”

You scooted closer, tucking yourself against his side. “Do you want to talk about it? It's okay if you don't, don't worry.” you asked gently.

He sighed, his hand leaving yours, his chest rising and falling heavily. “It’s the shows,” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration and guilt. “Canceling those dates… it’s been eating at me. I keep thinking about what people are saying, about how much I’m letting everyone down.” His fingers now twitched in his lap, restlessly picking at his nails. “What if I can’t get back? What if it takes longer than I think to get right again?”

Your heart ached at his words. You knew how much the decision had weighed on him, how much it had cost him emotionally to even consider canceling. The pressure of the band, the expectations of fans, the constant push to be at his best—it was a lot for anyone, let alone someone like Noah who had always carried his struggles quietly.

The anxiety, the fear of letting people down, had compounded into something much heavier than he could bear alone.

“I always feel like there’s a weight on my chest,” he admitted suddenly. “Like… no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it.”

"A heart’s a heavy burden,” you whispered almost to yourself before you shifted in your seat to face him, your hand gently cupping his cheek, guiding his gaze toward yours.

His eyes, tired and rimmed with the weight of sleepless nights, met yours, and you could see the vulnerability he rarely let others see.

“Noah,” you said softly, your thumb brushing against the roughness of his stubble. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’ve been carrying so much, for so long, and you deserve to take care of yourself. The people who care about you—your fans, the band—they understand. And if they don’t, that’s not on you.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes closing for a brief moment as if trying to hold back the wave of emotion that threatened to spill over. “It just feels like I’m failing. Like I’m not strong enough to keep going. What if I’m not ready when I need to be?”

“You don’t have to be ready on anyone else’s timeline,” you reassured him. “You’ll come back when you’re ready, when you’re really ready. And the people who matter will still be there waiting.”

His brow furrowed, but you could see the way your words started to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. He let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. “It’s hard to believe that sometimes.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But you’re doing the best you can. And that’s more than enough.”

He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips against the inside of your palm, the gesture soft and vulnerable. “You make it sound so simple,” he murmured, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I just know you,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him gently. It was slow, sweet, and lingering, the kind of kiss that said more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. “And I love you.”

For a few moments, the two of you sat there in the quiet, wrapped in the kind of peace that only the late hours of the night can bring. You could feel his breathing start to slow, the tension in his body gradually melting away as he held you close.

But you knew he still wasn’t quite there yet. Sleep wouldn’t come that easily, not when his mind was still racing with what-ifs and self-doubt.

“I’m going to make you some chamomile tea,” you whispered after a few beats of silence, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes.

He blinked at you, the smallest flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Chamomile?”

“Yeah,” you said, offering a soft smile. “You always seem to sleep better after it."

"I-" He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as if considering your words. “Okay,” he muttered, glancing down at his hands, which were still fidgeting restlessly in his lap.

His voice was quieter now, as if admitting that he needed something as simple as tea made him feel him not as strong as you thought he was.

You touched his hand again, gently stopping the nervous motion of his fingers. “I’ll be right back, okay?"

Noah nodded, watching you as you stood up and moved toward the kitchen. You could feel his gaze follow you, even as you moved out of sight, and it tugged at your heart.

The thought of him sitting there, tangled in his own mind, made you wish you could do more to pull him out of it. But sometimes, all you could offer was a moment of quiet, a warm cup of tea, and a reminder that you were there, no matter how dark things felt.

The sound of the kettle heating up filled the stillness as you reached for the chamomile tea you always kept stocked. The smell of it, earthy and floral, drifted through the kitchen, calming even you as you prepared it. You poured the hot water into a mug, watching the steam rise and swirl, hoping it could do for Noah what you couldn’t with just words.

You made your way back into the living room, handing him the warm mug. He accepted it with both hands, his fingers wrapping around the ceramic as if drawing warmth from it, the cup look so little in his big tattooed hands that it looked almost funny.

His shoulders, still tense, seemed to ease a little as he brought the cup to his lips and took a small sip.

He sat there for a while, the quiet ticking of the clock in the background the only sound as he sipped the tea. You sat down next to him again, curling up into his side, offering him the comfort of your presence without saying a word. He leaned into you, his body relaxing bit by bit, the warmth from the tea and your proximity finally starting to settle him.

When he set the empty mug aside, he turned to you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns on your back, his breathing deep and even.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered after a long moment, his voice heavy with exhaustion, but softer now, less burdened by the weight of his thoughts.

“You won’t have to find out,” you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I’m always here.”

He hugged you tighter, his hand running through your hair as he held you close. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve everything,” you whispered back, looking up at him, meeting his tired but grateful gaze. “You’ve been so strong, Noah. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to need help.”

He didn’t say anything, just held you closer, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft, tender kiss. You could feel the exhaustion pulling him under now, the weight of his worries finally lifting enough for sleep to take over.

His eyes were finally starting to droop, exhaustion catching up with him.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair.

He didn’t argue, didn’t resist. Together, you stood and made your way back to the bedroom, his arm slung around your shoulders.

Once in bed, you curled up beside him, his arm draped over you as he pulled you close. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, lulled you back into the comforting embrace of sleep.

And this time, you could feel Noah relax beside you, his breathing growing deeper, more even, as he finally, finally found the peace he needed.

And as you drifted off, wrapped in his arms, you knew that no matter how heavy the world felt, you would always be there to carry some of the weight for him.

[baby-yongbok]

I Promise

Han Jisung x Reader

▹Genre: Angst - the type that makes you shed a tear

▹Summary: Jisung finally realizes what he's been putting you through and he vows to fix it.

▹Word Count: 1.8k

▹Warnings: Description of a panic attack

▹This One shot was Inspired by the song Til u say i go by NIve

✧ Masterlist ✧

“Stop saying that. Stop saying that this isn’t working, why are you giving up so easily?” The vase of wilted roses on the dining table shook as Jisung’s tightly closed fists banged lightly against the mahogany. You feel something like the roses in front of you, what was once a beautiful and vibrant gift from the lover sitting across from you is now a wilted reminder of what once was. You’re tired, burnt-out.

“You think this is easy for me? This is the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do but I’ve had more than enough time to think about this. I’ve had more than enough lonely nights to know that I am sick and tired of this desolate feeling in my chest.” You rise to your feet quicker than you intended, you turn away from the man in front of you as tears well up at your waterline. 

“I’m doing what I can, you know that I’m doing what I can. You knew how this would go, you knew that I’d be busy, that my schedule would be packed. I promised you that I’d come home when I can and I have kept that promise -”

“ - you’ve been at the dorms more than you’ve been in this kitchen. You’ve slept there more than you have ever slept here, I’m sure that you have more clothes in your closet there than you do here, so are you really keeping your promise?” The exasperated sigh that falls from Jisungs lips as your feet lead you through the threshold leading to the living room is all the answer you need.

“You’re not being very fair. You know how busy it’s been, I only just got back to Seoul today, we’ve been all over the place, I’ve been all over the place.” He stares at you from the same threshold that you crossed moments ago. “I wasn’t aware that you felt so…”

His wide eyes meet your glassy ones as you allow the tears that you’ve been holding back to spill over your puffy lids like a glass filled to the brim. He steps towards you and with each pitter patter of his bare feet against the hardwood you feel that overflowing glass inching closer to the edge of shattering.

“Tell me.” You allow him to cup your cheek, the rough pad of his thumb wipes a stray tear as he continues to whisper. “Tell me everything that you’ve been keeping in there.” 

His other hand rests over your heart for just a second before the palm finds a home against your other cheek. You can feel his faint trembling against you and it’s only now that you notice the erratic pattern of his breathing. 

“Do you know how long the nights feel when I’m in that big bed all by myself?” Your lids flutter shut at the sound of your own whisper and you can feel it all coming up, word vomit with an untitled emotion, it's right at the back of your throat. Too thick to swallow. “I’ve stopped making the bed at this point, I stopped buying groceries to accommodate your presence because you’re never at the dinner table anymore.” 

Your voice starts to settle into a steady yell as you continue but you can’t stop it. Everything's coming up at once. All of the nights sleeping alone, all of the tears you’ve shed, all of the times you’ve needed the support of a partner that is never there, that can rarely ever pick up the phone. It all comes pouring out in shouting syllables that leave Jisung stumbling back with tears of his own trailing down his cheeks. 

“I called you, I called you last week and I needed you, I needed to hear your voice but all I heard was your voicemail. I didn’t even get a text from you that night, I waited hours for you to call me back. I waited and I waited but there was nothing and here we are six days later and you still haven’t asked me why I called.” You choke on your own shout as you take an inhale so sharp that it could’ve cut your larynx. Your throat tightens at the memory of last week. You sat in front of your phone for as long as you could just waiting, just hoping that Jisung would return your call but he never did. You waited and waited until the face that reminds you of him everyday pulled you out of your haze. 

Just as you fall to your knees in a choked sob that very face emerges from the dimly lit threshold, Jisung hears the tiny footsteps and swiftly shields your body from her line of sight.

“Mommy, why you cry again?” You sob harder at the sound of her small curious voice. This is all enough to break Jisung, the anxiety in his chest is quickly boiling over into self hatred. The palpable pain lingering in the air is all the proof that he needed to know that you’re right, he didn’t keep his promise. “Appa, is mommy okay?” 

“Mommy is- mommy is going to be alright. Appa is trying to fix it, okay?” The brown hair girl hugged her stuffed animal closer to her chest as she took a step towards her father. Jisung was fighting for his life as he did his best to hold back the sob that was rattling against his ribs.

“Come on, let's go back to bed so that I can help mommy, okay?” Jisung’s voice is barely above a whisper but it was enough for the little one in front of him to agree as she held her arms out towards him. He scooped his daughter up and held her close as he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, leaving you and your sorrows to seep into the dark wood beneath your knees. He could nearly hear the heavy tears spilling onto the flooring, he’s sure that the residue of your deep despondency will stain the flooring. His heart aches with sadness and regret as it all sinks in and he swears that what ‘s left of his resolve breaks when his daughter grabs him by his face and kisses the tip of his nose. A sweet whisper leaving her lips as her hopeful words loomed over his head. 

“Please fix momma.” That’s when he knew that he would never be able to make things right. Once he heard the latch catch on your daughter's bedroom door the latch holding the emotion trapped in his chest broke open and he sobbed so violently that it made no sound. All that he could hear was panicked ringing as he sunk to the ground and hung his head. His tears soaked into the soft denim of his jeans as all of your words echoed through his head. 

His breath caught in his throat and his hands raked through his hair aggressively until they grabbed at the roots and pulled as hard as they could. Time seemed to slow down as he realized what’s been happening. While he’s out in his own world the one that he built with you is crumbling. He got too comfortable, he allowed a thick frost to cover his lens and when he couldn’t see through them anymore he filled in the blanks with the answers that he wanted. He told himself that you were fine, that you’ll understand and that he was barely even missed. That frost was so thick, so blinding that he fooled himself into hurting you. 

“Han.” Your hoarse panicked tone is what snaps him out of his thoughts. He blinks a couple of times, trying his best to clear his blurred vision and concentrate. “Jisung, breathe, please.”

It’s only then that he notices the burning in his chest, he sucks in a harsh breath but it’s not enough. He coughs before trying again, the feeling of your soft hands rubbing against his clothed thighs grounds him quicker than he could manage to do by himself. Before he can fill his lungs completely his arms are around your waist. He pulls you into him as he rests against the pale painted wall of the hallway, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him against your chest as he struggles to regulate his breathing.

“I’m so -”

“- I know, Ji.” He takes a deep inhale and your soft scent makes his muscles tense before relaxing a bit too much. He’s missed this, he’s missed you. 

“I- I know that I hurt you. I haven’t been here for either of you but if you please, just please give me a chance to fix this. I’ll take time off, I’ll adjust my schedules and I’ll come home no matter the time. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I’ve been so absent I didn’t think that-”

“And what happens when you run out of days off? We’ll be a happy family for a month or two and then I'll be sleeping alone again?” He pulls away from you, watery eyes staring into yours with so much sincerity, so much passion. 

“I won’t leave you alone again, I’ll do what I can, I’ll do more than they let me. I’ll find a way, if you just let me stay, if you let me try again I promise that I will make up for this pain for the next million years, Jagi, please.”

“Ji...Jisung if this doesn’t work then -”

“Then I’ll leave, I’ll pack my stuff and I’ll give you anything that you need to live a comfortable life without me but that won’t happen. If you give me this chance I will stay by your side until you tell me to leave. I’ll stand by you every day until you scream and yell and beg me to go but please give me the chance to fix what I’ve done.” 

“You can’t promise me that everything will change.” Your eyes wander down his frame, a forlorn glint in your eyes. Jisung’s hand takes its familiar position on your cheek, pulling your attention back to him as he takes a rigid breath.

“I can and I will.” His eyes search yours as he tries to grasp onto the hope that’s flying away from you. Maybe he’s making a promise that’s bigger than himself, maybe he can’t do it, maybe he can’t fix you and he’ll break his daughter's heart but he has to try. He has to.

He leans into you and you welcome the feeling of his exhale clashing with yours, his blushed lips brush against your soft ones before he presses the softest kiss to them. It’s loving, it’s hopeful, it’s Jisung and you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him. He whispers against your lips between kisses, his words are airy and desperate but he means them and they mean everything to you.

“I promise.”

[cherubunie]

Heyy Heard you got writers block can you do all the jjk men (toji especially cuz my man my man my mann) where the reader and them just got into an argument and says goodnight to each other I know this sounds weird but at the end of the day they still love each other lol if u already did this sorrrry!

hi love bug ! i’m sorry this took so long to answer 😭 college is NAWT fun. I did my best i hope that’s okay! 🤍 I did add a little twist into your request I hope that's alright!

broken then fixed ~ husband toji x reader

Toji Fushiguro and you have been married for a few years now, so you know what his job as an assassin is like. You're used to him coming home at odd hours in the morning, if he ever came home at all. He's usually out for weeks, and oftentimes months on a job. Despite his schedule, you agreed to marry him out of pure love the both of you shared. One tough night after coming home from a job that took him a couple months to complete, he seems to be in the worst mood you've seen him in, in a very, very long time. Due to this, you, and more so he, exchange some words that left open wounds on each other's hearts. Will you both be willing to patch up those wounds together, or will you have to do it alone?

word count: 3600 Toji Fushiguro x reader. Angst, yelling, crying, words of hatred, mentions of breaking up, mentions of death, toji very shortly thinks of having sex with you. Fluff. Toji is a bit sweeter than normal bc i love sweet men.

Toji and you have been married for the last five years. Your shared love is indescribably perfect despite his tough work schedule as an assassin. Despite this, your love continues to grow for each other every passing second. Some nights do get tough when you're away from your lover. Crying, glass after glass of wine, hugging his pillow and sleeping on his side of the bed. Other nights, you're just happy you have someone to protect, love, and cherish you the way Toji does. You admire everything about your husband, and the feeling is mutual, he loves you the exact way. 

When he's having a tough day on the job, all he does in order to pick himself back up is imagining the way your face lights up when he comes home. How you will more than likely have a home cooked meal all ready for him on the stove if you know the exact date he finds his way back to you. How your pussy makes him feel when he's inside you. When you're moaning his name as your fingers dig red, bloody trails down his toned back as he stuffs you full, taking his cock so well he could breed you for hours- but that's a different story. 

Although, tonight is different for him. He killed someone he wasn't supposed to kill today, a child. Four, maybe five years old. She was caught up in the midst of a brutal fight between him and his target, causing destruction all around him. And to make a long story short, he did end up killing who he was supposed to, but only to kill a little girl on the way to his goal. Toji seems like the type to not give a shit about something so small, but behind closed doors, he would never kill a child unless it absolutely had to be done. 

He puts up his walls when things like this happen, only for them to be torn down the moment his eyes find yours. That's what he loves most about you- how well you understand him and how forgiving you are. You make him feel safe, valid. He feels as though he can tell you anything, break down any wall, and all you do is listen and hold him as he finally lets down the mask. 

The guilt felt as if he was swallowing handfuls of glass. Sharp and painful as he opens the door to your shared house. The smell of something delicious hits him and it makes his stomach churn. 

He doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve to come home to the most perfect, beautiful woman on earth who treats him as if he is the most treasured person on the planet. He's angry with himself, and even though he sees you rounding the corner of the kitchen, his mask stays up and his head hangs low as he takes off his coat and hangs it on the hooks in the doorway. 

Your "welcome home my love" is early audible as the little girl's screams echo through his skull, consuming every part of his being. As Toji walks past you and into the living room, completely disregarding your existence. You can now tell that something has undeniably upset him. You don't take his actions to heart, your smile never falters as you turn your body to face him while your eyes follow his moving figure. He brings his hands up to his head as he stressfully runs his fingers through his black hair. 

You take a step towards him and your voice seems to be laced with sweetness as you speak to him.

"Honey, are you okay?" you ask him in the most sweetly filled concern he's ever heard, which breaks his heart even more. His teeth clench as his anger rises. 

Why do you have to be so sweet to me? Im a murderer for fuck sake. His thoughts eat away at him and he knows that if he looks at you, his walls will crack. 

"I can't." Is all he says, not turning around to look at you. Your face contorts to one of confusion at his words, not quite understanding the meaning of his short sentence. 

"Can't what, love?" The pet name you call him makes him want to break everything in the house. 

Make this short, Fushiguro.

"I can't keep this up anymore, y/n." His voice lacks emotion as he refuses to face you. Your heart clenches in your ribcage and suddenly your focus is undivided as your attention circulates onto Toji and Toji alone. 

You understand what he means, because he's talked about it before. Especially when he comes home from a tough job. You've always been able to reassure him, but this time feels different. Even though you understand completely, you still refuse to acknowledge it and play dumb. 

"I don't understand what you mean." You say, your voice never faltering from the sweet tone you speak. A low, gruntful huff escapes his throat as his frustration bubbles up. 

"We can't keep doing this, y/n." You feel as though the room is shrinking in on the both of you. It's suddenly stuffier as your chest begins to get heavier. You don't say anything, and that pisses him off. 

"I put you in danger, I put everyone in danger just by existing. I'm an assassin with an active target on my back." He takes a breath and in one swift motion, his hands fall to his sides, balling his hands into fists. 

"Please don't." your words are just below a whisper, but Toji can hear them. 

Believe me, baby. I don't want to. 

"I can't keep putting you in danger, it's selfish. We need to leave things here and never come back." His words are harsh as they leave his mouth, piercing straight into your heart. 

"Toji please. I don't want that." You speak, his ears ringing with your soft voice and the screams. 

"I do." Short and to the point. You aren't understanding now. He doesn't want you anymore? He doesn't love you? He doesn't care about you? So many things cloud your overthinking mind and everything is going a mile a minute. 

"Please don't. I don't care that you're an assassin, I don't care about your job. I don't care that you think I'm in danger! I know what you're capable of and I know that you protect me. I feel safe with you. Toji please don't, I'm begging you." You're frantic now. You haven't thought about your life without him, all you know is that you love him for who he truly is, and how safe you feel whenever you're in his presence. 

"That's the goddamn problem y/n. You're so blind sighted by how I present myself with you that you don't see the dangers of being with me. You're so caught up in what a happy, square marriage could be that you've gaslighted yourself into believing that you have one. I don't want this anymore, and I don't want you. I don't want what you think we have. I've had enough, y/n." His words send a punch to your gut and a thick crack to your heart, and suddenly it's too hard to breathe as your chest heaves. 

"You think it's easy being away from my own husband for so long? All the nights I've laid awake crying, scared that something will happen to you? How alone I feel for weeks on end?" You pause, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. 

"You wanna know how I get myself through those nights- weeks? It's the thought of you coming home to me. Feeling whole again whenever you're here. The house no longer feeling so big and empty. If we can get through those agonizing times of being apart, I know I can get through anything. All those arguments we've had just like this, we get through because I know I trust you, and I know damn well you feel the exact same." You take a breath before speaking again. 

"I trust you enough to be with you, because I know how dangerous your job is, and I know the sacrifices I have to make in order to be with you, that is why I agreed to marry you. That and the fact that I love you with all I am, Toji." He's silent, and this scares you. Every time an argument like this has happened, the both of you are fighting for each other, but this time is different. He's not fighting, you are. Alone. 

"Are you fucking stupid? How do I have to say it in order to make you understand? I don't care about our marriage, and I don't care about your love or trust. I don't want this. I don't want you. I'm tired of having these pointless conversations because with you, they never end. It's painful, really." Now it's your turn to be silent. A look of pain and regret clouds Toji's face as the words leave his mouth, but he has to land the finishing blow. 

"I don't love you, anymore y/n." 

Your emotions are all over the place. Anger, sadness, confusion. But you can't let him go, not yet. 

"Turn around and say it to my face." Your words are solid and demanding, and it honestly gives Toji chills. 

"I said, turn around and say it to my face, Toji." Your demand is clearer and more intimidating. 

I can't do it. 

He pauses for a minute, gathering himself and adjusting his mask before he turns around to look at you. His face is emotionless and solid. He looks you right in the eyes, his heart shattering in his chest at the sight of warm tears streaming down your perfect face, ruining your pretty mascara and light concealer. 

"I don't love you."

Your arms find their way to cross each other over your stomach, right below your breasts. almost as if you're trying to stop yourself from vomiting at his words. you're silent as he walks to the front door, your eyes staring off into space. He grabs his coat and walks out of the front door, slamming it shut behind him and as soon as he's out of the house, a loud sob erupts from the back of your throat and your breathing picks up the pace. You continue to sob as you walk into the kitchen, turning the stove off in a rushed manner. You pace around the kitchen, whines and cries leave your throat as you attempt to gather any rational thoughts. 

I'm not safe anymore. I won't see him again. Fuck you. Please don't leave me. 

They circulate around your brain and nothing else can calm you down. Your feet stop in their tracks as you see a picture frame on the table. 

Your wedding picture. Toji is holding you in his arms, and you're looking at the camera with the biggest, most genuine smile on your face. But what catches your eye is the look on his face, his eyes holding so much love as he looks directly at you in the picture. Your head starts hurting as your cries are filled with anger and betrayal. You storm over to the picture, pick it up and without even looking at it, you let out a loud grunt as you throw it at the front door. 

"Fuck you" you say to the shattered glass that now litters the floor. You rub your palms down your face and up through your hair, gripping hard as you tug on it. 

"Please don't leave me" you say to yourself and sink down onto the living room floor, your back against the soft couch the two of you picked out while you were furniture shopping before you moved into the place. 

You bring your knees to your chest and cry into your arms. Loudly. 

Words of "please don't leave me alone" and "I don't want you to go" echo off the walls of the house. You cry and cry for hours, begging to the empty house, your headache getting worse and before you know it, you're fast asleep on the floor in front of the couch. 

Little to your knowledge, Toji heard all of your cries and pleas. The longer it continued, the more he started to regret his decision. He wished there was an easier way to protect you, but alas, here you guys were. It was around 4 in the morning and he's still sitting with his back against the front door, trying to get himself to leave. but he just couldn't get himself to leave the woman he's in love with. 

All of the words he spoke were lies. Lies that will haunt him for the rest of his life. You were silent now, hinting to him that you had finally fallen asleep. He sat outside, staring out into the street. 

His thoughts overwhelming. 

He remembered how well he kept your marriage under wraps so that no harm would come your way, and none did. Nothing had ever happened to you in the five years of you guys being married. Nothing had ever happened to you in the 9 years of you being together in general. He was very good at making sure you were safe, but he didn't care. He would rather burn the world to the ground than have anything happen to you.

He remembered a conversation he had with an old friend of his before he had proposed to you, and it made him want to erase the last 6 hours of his life and start over. 

"Do you really think it's a good idea to marry her?" He asks. 

"yes I do." 

"I just don't want anything to happen to her, you know?" Toji says with a huff. 

"I understand, yes. But you need to understand that life has an unavoidable expiration date. you never know when you, or someone else is going to die. You have to live to your fullest extent with no regrets. Are you going to regret marrying her, or regret letting her go and risk her being happy with someone else. Would you rather her die with someone else, or with you." He says, making Toji drown with thought.

"What if she dies because of me?" Toji speaks in hushed tones. 

"You know you can't protect everybody, but you're Toji, come on. You don't protect anyone but yourself. Actually, you do the opposite, you kill people, people who need killing that is. You've already decided to keep your marriage hidden, and you chose the best way to do that. You do whatever you think is best, but if I were you, I would marry the one person who truly understands and accepts you for who you are, because you never know when that expiration date will come. Living with the happiness in your life, because you truly can't gain it if you're observing it from afar." 

The thought of a life without you in it makes him not want a life at all. You drive him crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy and he loves it. 

He married you for a reason, your souls are tied, there is no reason to cut that string bounding you two together. 

Toji thinks for a moment, an idea popping into his head as he stands up, brushing his pants off in the process. It's a crazy idea, but he's gonna give it up anyways. 

If he had to choose between the love of his life and continuing his line of work, he would choose you in a heartbeat.

So that's exactly what he does. 

He turns around and opens the front door, immediately finding your passed out figure on the living room carpet. His heart pangs at the thought of you sleeping on the uncomfortable floor. 

He closes the door behind him and locks it. Walking over the broken glass and picture frame, he carefully picks up the photo of the two of you on your wedding day and his eyes start to sting. He gently walks around the broken glass and into the kitchen, propping the picture in the exact same spot, only this time he leans it up against the wall so it's up right. He makes a mental note to go and buy a new picture frame tomorrow and begins to dim the kitchen and living room lights before heading over to your sleeping body. 

He bends down and looks at you. Your face is so calm, he can't believe those loud and broken sobs came from your delicate lips and soft throat. He brushes a strand of hair off your tear stained cheeks and caresses your sweet face with the pad of his thumb, rubbing it over the tear marks streaming down your puffy cheeks. 

He carefully wraps one arm under your back, the other under your knees, picking you up bridal style. He stands up and starts heading into your shared room, kicking the door open gently. 

The sudden change of position stirs you awake, and the first thing you see is Tojis face. Your eyes instantly widen and you are almost convinced you're dreaming, you go to say something but his deep voice vibrates through your body, interrupting you.

"don't say anything baby, let me explain." You close your mouth as he sets you on the perfectly made bed the two of you share. He sits down in front of you and places his hand on your knee, looking directly at you. 

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really didn't mean anything I said. I shouldn't have said any of it actually." you stare at the man before you, not saying anything- you don't know what to say really, so you let him continue. 

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. what I said was completely false and I want to ask you for forgiveness. I don't regret this relationship, and I don't regret ever meeting you." He pauses, looking down at his hands. You feel a familiar sting in the back of your eyes. 

"I want you. I want all of you. Every single aspect of your being is everything I will ever need in this lifetime. I always thought that I would rather die than to let anything hurt you, but it was nobody other than me who did exactly that, and I will spend every second of this life time and the ones after making up for it." Fresh tears run down your cheeks, but your expression is blank. Toji leans closer, moving his hand from your knee, onto the plush of your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb and you don't even think of rejecting his touch. 

"You aren't stupid, nothing you do is anything remotely stupid. You're perfect. Everything you do is perfect. Your trust, your love, hell even the way you walk. You drive me absolutely crazy, y/n. I just-" he pauses, trying to say the right words.

"I thought that leaving would- I thought that leaving was the best available option I had in order to keep you safe, because I really do believe that everywhere I go, there is danger and destruction, and I don't want that to have any sort of effect on you" he takes a breath

"I don't want to imagine a life without you y/n because- because without you, I don't want one" you've never seen him stutter the way he's doing now, and you've never heard his voice break as much, and you can tell he's being serious. 

"Tell me what happened" you blurt out before he can say anything else. Toji stares at you, his jaw clenching and then unclenching. his eyes tore away from yours before he speaks.

"There was a little girl, she had pretty big brown eyes and golden hair. four, maybe five years old. She got in the middle of a fight on accident and before I could stop, I ended up killing her. I can't get her screams of pain out of my head before she dies. I kept imagining that little girl as you. Like if I didn't leave, you would end up the same way she did. or instead of you,,, she was- she was our daughter.." his voice trailed off and your expression softens. the two of you have never spoken of having children, but you've thought about it multiple times before and you never once disregarded the possibility. even thinking about it happening in the future makes you happy. 

"you wanna know how I know that would never happen?" He looks up at you, a single tear littering his cheek. 

"because I know the extent you're willing to go in order to protect me." you lean forward into his warm chest, gripping his shirt so tightly that if your grip were to falter, he would slip through your fingers. you cry into his chest and he strokes your head, pulling you into his lap. 

"shh baby, it's okay" he coos as you cry into him.

"I thought you were actually leaving" you sigh, the tense atmosphere melting away as the feeling of being complete in his arms begins to overflow

"I'm not baby, I'm here to stay. I'm so sorry, never again, I promise you."

You pull away from him and look down at the pair of wedding rings that shine on your fingers. 

"I love you, y/n, and this is where i'm going to stay, right here with you."

[cursedlovesstuff]

Fixing Us. Part 4.

In the car, Nat’s mind raced with doubts and fears as she navigated through the city traffic.

Wanda sat beside her, scrolling through her phone, looking for recipes, but it was hard to ignore the storm of thoughts swirling inside Nat’s head.

“Stop overthinking, Nat,” Wanda said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Nat glanced over, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“Your thoughts are loud,” Wanda replied, not looking up from her phone. “You’re overthinking everything that could go wrong.”

“Because a lot could go wrong, Wanda. This is Y/N we’re talking about,” Nat said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“I know, which is why you shouldn’t overthink. It’s not helping,” Wanda replied gently.

“I can’t stop overthinking. What if she’s falling out of love with me? What if there’s someone else? What if she doesn’t trust me anymore?” Nat’s voice grew more anxious with each question.

“If she was falling out of love, she wouldn’t give you a chance to fix things. You’re Y/N’s blind spot; she still loves you and she’s still in love with you. If she wasn’t, she would have left by now,” Wanda said firmly.

“Maybe you’ll realize that when you stop pushing her away.”

“I don’t push Y/N away,” Nat retorted defensively.

“You push everyone away, Nat,” Wanda countered, finally putting her phone down. “When you get stressed out and when work gets tough, you shut down emotionally. You try to pretend everything is fine when you’re struggling. You lose focus and forget important things, and Y/N puts up with it.”

Nat remained silent, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel.

Wanda continued, “She tries to get you to sleep, to eat, to train. She tries to keep you on schedule so you don’t fall apart. After so many years, I couldn’t tell you why she still tries to keep you from spiraling.”

Nat sighed deeply, feeling a pang of guilt. “I know I’ve been difficult. I know I’ve taken her for granted.”

“You need to show her that you appreciate her, that you’re willing to put in the effort to make things right,” Wanda said softly. “The reason why I’m helping you is not just for the sake of your relationship, but for the sake of Y/N. She deserves happiness just as much as any of us she has also had a rough life, especially after everything she has done for you.”

“Everything she has done for me?” Nat repeated, sensing there was more to that statement than Wanda was letting on.

Wanda’s eyes flickered with something unspoken, but she didn’t elaborate. “Look, we’re here,” she said instead, nodding towards the parking lot of the shopping center.

Nat pulled into a parking space, turned off the engine, and sat there for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Thank you, Wanda,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without your support.”

Wanda smiled warmly. “That’s what friends are for. Now, let’s get this dinner sorted out. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

They walked into the grocery store, grabbing a cart. Nat glanced at the shopping list Wanda had compiled. “So, shrimp alfredo and garlic toast?”

“Yep, and we’ll need fresh ingredients to make it special. Let’s start with the seafood section,” Wanda suggested.

As they moved through the aisles, Wanda continued to offer advice. “Remember, it’s not just about the dinner. It’s about showing Y/N that you’re willing to put in the effort, that you’re thinking about her and what she likes.”

“I know,” Nat said, picking out a bag of fresh shrimp. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

“It’s never too late if you’re willing to make a change,” Wanda reassured her, placing a loaf of fresh bread in the cart.

As they moved to the produce section, Wanda picked up a bag of flour. Nat furrowed her brow in confusion. “Why do we need flour? Aren’t we just buying pasta?”

Wanda shook her head with a smile. “We’re making the pasta from scratch. It tastes better, and only the best for Y/N.”

Nat was impressed but also slightly overwhelmed. “Are you sure I can pull this off?”

“With my help, absolutely,” Wanda said confidently. “Let’s grab some fresh garlic and parsley too.”

They continued shopping, selecting the best ingredients. As Wanda picked up fresh tomatoes and heavy cream, Nat asked, “What are those for?”

“Homemade alfredo sauce. Trust me, it’s worth the effort,” Wanda explained, placing the items in the cart.

They made their way through the store, filling the cart with fresh basil, Parmesan cheese, and a bottle of white wine for the sauce. Nat’s mind was slightly more at ease as they checked off items from the list.

Once they had everything for the dinner, Nat wandered off to another section of the store, intent on picking up some of Y/N’s favorite things. She grabbed Oreos, her favorite chips, and some wine she knew Y/N loved among with other things.

As they checked out, Wanda looked at Nat curiously. “You really went all out with the extras.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I want to show her I’m thinking about her, not just with dinner, but in all the little things she loves.”

Wanda nodded approvingly. “That’s the right approach.”

After checking out, Wanda and Nat headed to the car to put up the groceries. Once they got into the car, Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

Nat nodded, a mix of nerves and determination in her eyes. “Ready.”

As they drove back to Nat’s apartment, the weight of the evening ahead felt heavy but hopeful. Nat was prepared to do whatever it took to make things right, one step at a time.

Back at the apartment, Nat and Wanda unpacked the groceries. Nat carefully placed the fresh ingredients on the counter, feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety. Wanda began to organize everything, setting out the flour, eggs, and olive oil for the pasta dough.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Wanda said, tying an apron around her waist. “We’re going to make the pasta dough. It’s a bit messy, but it’s worth it.”

Nat nodded, following Wanda’s lead.

“Alright, Nat. Here’s how we make the pasta dough. First, make a hole in the center of the flour,” Wanda instructed, demonstrating with a mound of flour on the counter. “Then, we crack the eggs into it.”

Nat watched closely and imitated Wanda’s actions, cracking eggs into the flour. “Like this?”

“Perfect,” Wanda said with a nod. “Now, you gently beat the eggs with a fork, slowly incorporating the flour from the edges.”

Nat concentrated, her tongue peeking out slightly as she carefully mixed the eggs and flour. “This is harder than it looks.”

Wanda chuckled. “It takes practice, but you’re doing great. Keep going until it forms a dough.”

As the mixture began to come together, Nat used her hands to knead it into a smooth ball. Wanda added a bit of olive oil, showing Nat how to work it into the dough. “Now we knead. Press it with the heel of your hand, fold it over, and repeat.”

Nat followed Wanda’s movements, finding a rhythm in the repetitive motions. “How long do we knead it?”

“About ten minutes, until it’s smooth and elastic,” Wanda replied. “You’re doing really well, Nat.”

After the dough was ready, they wrapped it in plastic wrap and set it aside to rest. Next, Wanda guided Nat through preparing the shrimp. “First, we need to devein and clean these,” Wanda explained, showing Nat how to remove the shells and veins from the shrimp.

Nat mimicked her, quickly getting the hang of it. “This isn’t so bad.”

“See? You’ve got this,” Wanda encouraged. “Now, let’s season them with some salt, pepper.”

With the shrimp prepped, they moved on to the sauce. Wanda handed Nat a small knife and a clove of garlic.

Nat carefully chopped the garlic, as wanda prepared the pan with olive oil, waiting for Nat to finish. “Great job, Nat.”

After wanda put the garlic into the pan it wasn't long before the aroma of garlic filled the kitchen as it cooked.

Wanda added heavy cream and white wine to the pan, stirring gently. “We’re making the sauce now. Let it simmer and thicken.”

While the sauce simmered, Wanda brought out the pasta dough. “Time to roll out the pasta,” she said, grabbing a rolling pin. “Dust the counter with flour and roll the dough out thinly.”

Nat rolled out the dough, amazed at how it transformed. “This is actually fun.”

Wanda laughed. “Cooking can be therapeutic. Now, we’ll cut the dough into thin strips for the fettuccine.”

They used a sharp knife to cut the pasta into even strips, laying them out to dry slightly. Wanda checked the sauce, adding grated Parmesan cheese and fresh basil. “The sauce is almost ready. Just needs a bit more time.”

Once everything was prepped, Wanda and Nat cooked the pasta in boiling water, watching as it floated to the top. They drained it and added it to the creamy Alfredo sauce, tossing in the cooked shrimp.

After they put everything together in the pot, Wanda’s phone rang, pulling her attention away from their cooking. She glanced at the screen and her face grew serious. “Clint? What’s up?”

Natasha watched Wanda’s expression intently. After a brief conversation, Wanda nodded and ended the call. “Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Wanda said washing her hands she turns her attention to nat "I have to go someone is trying to rob a bank across town"

"Do you need my help?"

"I think I can handel it but what I do need you to do is fix things with y/n".

“What am I gonna do without your help?” Nat asked, her worry evident.

“Relax, Nat,” Wanda said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Just let the food cook on low for the next 20 minutes.” She hurried to pull on her jacket. “Uh, I’ll send you the recipe for the garlic bread. It’s simple. Call Y/N and see what time she’ll be home.”

Natasha nodded, trying to absorb Wanda’s calmness. “Okay. I’ll handle it.”

Wanda squeezed Nat’s shoulder reassuringly before rushing out. Alone in the kitchen, Nat took a deep breath and began preheating the oven. She gave herself a pep talk, muttering, “You’ve got this. Finish dinner, make her happy, apologize, and talk. Be honest and open. Don’t push her away.” She grabbed her phone and dialed Y/N’s number.

The phone rang for about a minute until Y/N picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, are you at work right now?” Nat asked, her heart pounding.

There was silence for about ten seconds before Y/N responded. “I’m just getting off and heading to the store. We ran out of eggs and flour, and I need to get something to cook for dinner.”

Nat smiled slightly. “I already went to the store and bought groceries for the week.”

“You did?” Y/N sounded surprised.

“Yes. When will you be home?”

“I guess I can be home in less than 15 minutes.”

“Great. I’ll see you in 15 minutes,” Nat says.

“Oh...okay,” Y/N replied, still sounding puzzled.

After hanging up, Nat started setting up the bed neatly, placing Y/N’s basket of treats and goodies with care. She then returned downstairs, set the oven to preheat, and nervously began preparing the ingredients for the garlic bread.

She heard the door open and close, followed by Y/N’s worried voice. “Nat?” ~

[stayinlimbo]

Returned Call

wc: 765, genre: exes to lovers(?), warnings: cursing in beginning, slightly unedited

note: although i feel this could be read as a stand-alone, here is the sequel to Missed Call you guys were asking for. i hope you enjoy ♡

Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system: You know. Lee Minho. Not available. Voicemail. Speak. 

Fuck you, Lee Minho. No, seriously, fuck you. 

Tell me why I was contacted by not one but three of your dancing buddies within the past twenty-four hours about how you’ve been moping around and trudging through your routines for the past week. 

They were all essentially the same. You haven’t been the same since we broke up, is there any way we could reconnect, give you one more chance, blah blah blah. 

You must be doing really bad if one of them was Hyunjin, of all people. 

Two months too late, don’t you think?

As if any of this was my fault.

…

I was getting better before you called, you know?

I finally fixed my sleep schedule. I won’t lie, it took longer than I’d like to admit to break the habit of staying up late for you. At least I was already used to sleeping alone. 

I reconnected with some old friends since I couldn’t talk to Jisung as much without being reminded of you. They can still read me like a book, even after all these years.

I even went on a date. 

Granted, it was with myself, but I like to think it still counts.  

…

You know what I realized on my “date?” And while out with my friends? And on the sleepless nights I spent staring up at my childhood bedroom’s ceiling?

I had forgotten what it felt like to be seen. To be appreciated. To be loved. 

It seems like you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re right. I deserved better. I deserve better. I may have ended our relationship, but I wasn’t the one who left first.

I remember our last kiss, paired with another one of your lies I foolishly kept believing in until I finished the movie night you promised you’d be home in time for. And I remember waking up on the couch with a sore neck to see your fatigued silhouette entering the front door, barely sparing me a glance as you dragged yourself towards the bedroom. 

You didn’t even look sorry. 

How could you, I guess, if you left everything back at the studio?

…

I used to admire your passion, Minho. I hate that I still do. You pour everything you have, everything you can possibly give, into what you love. So why couldn’t you do the same for us? For me?

You say you love me, but why does it feel like I lost something I'm not sure I ever had? 

…

Where did we go wrong? What did I do wrong? I gave everything to you. I gave you my heart, my body, my entire being. I gave you everything until there was nothing left to give.

I never asked for anything outlandish. I think it’s reasonable to want to talk with your partner, to share your lives with one another. I think it’s reasonable to ask about when you’ll be home for our anniversary without being yelled at in front of your friends. 

You want me to be proud of you? You want me to be happy about one of the very things that ripped us apart?

Yes, you’re selfish, but I’m no better. 

…

Maybe this is my fault. After all, no one should feel obligated to love someone. I just never thought it’d apply to us. 

…I wish I could hate you. I really do. 

But all I see is your stupid face smiling at me when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh ringing in my ears when I remember the ways you said or did something ridiculous to make me feel better after a stressful day. I still feel the warmth of your body wrapped around mine when we did wake up next to each other, our legs entwined together to where it was impossible to escape. Not that I ever wanted to. 

I want you to keep smiling at me. I want you to hold me. I want you to miss me. I want you to want me. 

Because I still want you. 

…

I want to give you a second chance, Minho. If things could be different this time, if we could be different. If we could share ourselves, wholeheartedly, as lovers, and not strangers.

I want to fall in love with you again, Lee Minho. 

…

Call me back, when you get the chance. You can keep the shirts for now.

Just please, don’t make me regret this.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

ending note: I hope this didn't disappoint. I really tried my best to make it work with all the angst in here :D. I also tried incorporating parallels from Missed Call so hopefully that wasn't too annoying or anything <3

[cuubism]

Computation

part 7 of Complex Mathematics

(aka Dream vs Technology -- Technology: 1, Dream: 0)

------------

Wednesday, 3:54am

Hob. what is the wifi password?

3:56am: why are you texting me when I’m in the same house?

3:57am: I did not want to wake you up.

4:00am: ……….

4:01am: Ah.

4:03am: it’s 12345. which is terrible security by the way

4:04am: how do i know this and you don’t? we’re in YOUR flat

4:05am: Computers are your friends, not mine.

4:10am: It does not like the password.

4:12am: alright i’m getting up

Dream creeps back into the living room, holding a cup of tea, as Hob’s tinkering with the router. Turns out it needed to be completely reset before he could reconnect it to Dream’s laptop. Not that this is that hard, but for some reason Hob doesn’t understand, technology is simply out of Dream’s grasp. Head in the clouds, too smart for basic computer skills, etc etc.

“A peace offering,” Dream says, placing the tea on the coffee table. He perches on the couch beside where Hob’s leaning over the router on its spot on the bookshelf.

“I’m not mad at you,” Hob says. He pats the router as its indicator lights finally turn green again. “I will take tea, though.”

“I woke you,” Dream says softly.

“You’ve woken me before, you will again,” Hob says with equanimity. Their sleep schedules are out of alignment, it tends to happen.

It’s the wrong thing to say, though. Dream cringes, hands folding in his lap. “I should be able to handle such things.”

“It’s just the wifi.” Hob finally finishes reconnecting Dream’s laptop and turns properly towards him. Dream still looks guilty about it. Sometimes Hob misses the time before they were dating, when Dream would bristle at him instead of caving. Just because he doesn’t like seeing Dream feel bad.

He takes the cup of tea and places it in Dream’s hands instead, briefly wrapping their hands around each other. “It’s okay,” he repeats. Possibly they should have a longer conversation about it, but Hob’s not emotionally awake enough for it.

Instead, he gets up and heads for the kitchen to put on some coffee. He needs something with more caffeine in it than tea.

“What are you doing?” Dream asks.

“Might as well get something done while my brain is online,” Hob says. He goes to fetch his own laptop from Dream’s bedroom. Lord knows it’ll need to get reconnected to the glitchy wifi again, anyway.

~~

Friday, 2:05pm

Hob.

2:06pm: ?

2:07pm: The wifi is angry again.

2:09pm: did you antagonize it?

2:09pm: hang on did you just wake up now?

2:10pm: I cannot comment.

2:12pm: I assume you have been hard at work in the library since six.

2:14pm: more like hardly working in the library. i did make an app that gives you a gold star every time you do the laundry

2:16pm: Will that assist in your routines?

2:17pm: probably not but it’ll be fun for 5 minutes

2:17pm: wifi password’s still 12345

2:18pm: maybe I should make an app for that instead…

2:20pm: I do not think it would help.

2:30pm: …You are not trying to make said app, are you?

2:34pm: nope just realized I’m late for a class and had to scramble out of there. I’ll be back later can do couples counseling for you and wifi then?

2:35pm: Very well.

For a while after putting down his phone, Dream stares at the wifi router in vexation, as if that will possibly make the angry red lights turn green again. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. He knows even less what to do to fix it.

He needs the wifi operational to keep generating these fractals. He supposes he could go to the library and use university wifi, but that requires going out in public, which is preferably avoided, at least while he’s trying to work. So he will have to do something else until Hob gets back from class.

He recalls what Hob had said. That instead of working on his dissertation he had made an entire phone app about laundry. He had said it so casually, like it was a doodle to pass the time. Dream can use apps—barely—but he cannot begin to fathom how he would go about making one. Hob does not understand how even in his procrastination he is exceptional.

Well. This is something that Dream can do. Hob hates doing laundry—hence the app-based reward system—but Dream doesn’t mind. He finds it meditative. He will have to be more precise about fabric care instructions now, as while his own clothes rarely range beyond grey, black, and dark blue, Hob actually wears colors which might bleed into each other.

He puts on his headphones with some music, gathers up the laundry from the bedroom, and goes about his routine.

When Hob gets back, Dream has finished hanging the laundry to dry and returned to his contemplation of the router, this time still with his headphones playing. He’s lost in thought, and doesn’t notice Hob’s come in until his hand lands on Dream’s shoulder. Normally a sudden touch when he’s thinking would make him jump, but he’s become used to Hob.

“Trying to solve your marital problems through telepathy?” Hob asks.

“We were never married,” Dream says. “Indeed we are enemies.”

Hob laughs. He kisses Dream on the cheek, then kneels in front of the router. “You have to stop tormenting my boyfriend,” he tells it. It only blinks back at him innocently.

Hob can be very silly at times. “I do not think arguing with the inanimate object will help,” Dream says.

“You never know.” Hob takes the router down and sets about unplugging all the cables. Dream still doesn’t know what any of them precisely do, nor how wifi works. It may as well be magic.  

Hob has it fixed within minutes, of course. Far more effective than Dream’s intense staring. He gets Dream’s laptop reconnected, and Dream is finally able to start generating his fractal. “Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for my love,” says Hob, getting to his feet again. “Guessing you want some time to yourself now to work on this?”

“Yes,” says Dream, with some guilt. Hob has come home to help him only for him to immediately bury himself in his work again. But yes, he does want to make progress on this at last.

“Well, good,” says Hob, and Dream turns to him in surprise. “Because I’m due for a nap.”

Dream still hasn’t formulated a response to this by the time Hob’s disappeared into his bedroom. Strange, that their routines can be so opposite and still meld together so well.

Hob pokes his head back out into the hall. “Did you do the laundry?”

“Yes,” says Dream.

“I could kiss you,” Hob declares, then blows one to him before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Dream presses his hand to his cheek, as if to touch a kiss that had really landed there. Smiles to himself. Then goes back to his fractal.

~~

Monday, 5:02pm

Hob.

5:03pm: Wifi?

5:04pm: …Yes.

Thursday, 9:50pm

…..Hob.

9:50pm: I’m sitting right next to you.

9:51pm: ….

9:51pm: I’m just gonna get you a new router. This thing’s got problems.

9:52pm: I think it is I who has the problems.

9:52pm: That too.

Saturday, 6:00pm

Hob.

6:00pm: Is it broken AGAIN??

6:01pm: No. I got dinner.

6:02pm: Oh!

6:02pm: Fuck I’m starving.

6:03pm: Coming back from class now.

6:03pm: Don’t touch the router it’s in a fragile mental state.

6:04pm: Aren’t we all.

~~

Thursday, 3:50pm

This time, it is the wifi in Hob’s flat that is stymieing Dream. He does not think it is broken. Hob has merely changed the password, as he’s much more diligent about internet security than Dream, and then forgotten to tell Dream what it is. Or, more likely, correctly assumed Dream would have to ask him again anyway.

He briefly contemplates trying to deduce the password, but it is likely an incomprehensible string of characters that Hob would claim is ideal security precisely because of the impossibility of deducing it.

He refuses to text Hob about it again. Hob has a class to teach soon—Dream has his schedule memorized—Dream does not want to distract him. Though speaking of…

3:50pm: You have a class in ten minutes.

3:51pm: FUCK

3:51pm: I got distracted

3:53pm: Now… running

3:54pm: You are not near the building, are you.

3:55pm: NOPE

Dream smiles to himself, thinking of Hob sprinting across campus. It happens often. Hob is good at many things, but time management is not one of them. This is why Dream knows his schedule.

He does feel… a bit silly, though. He should be better at this, should he not? Less bothersome to Hob over small things that he should be able to handle.

Normally he would go back to his work to distract himself from these thoughts, but he still can’t work on his fractals without being able to connect remotely to the university computers, which are more powerful than his own. This is something Hob had also set up for him, because Dream had not been able to make any sense of the instructions he had been given for remote login, and the like.

Sighing, he instead takes his sketchbook out of his bag. It’s been a while since he’s made any time for drawing. But he had started looking at fractals in the first place to better understand patterns in art, to understand resonances between what occurred in nature and what was projected by mathematics. And drawing used to soothe him.

So he starts drawing, sketching the fractal he has been generating—to the extant that he can with the imprecise instrument of his pen. Even in infinite impossible digital form, the branching spirals eventually become too small for him to see, though he knows they continue on in perfect replication forever, smaller and smaller until they disappear into atoms. He cannot recreate that level of detail by hand. But he tries.

By the time he gets another text back from Hob, an hour later, he’s moved to the floor to have more space. He’s found a bigger piece of scrap paper and is drawing the fractal again, in more detail this time, color-coding the different shapes, free-handing where he should probably use a ruler for more precision. He has achieved several more levels of replication than before, but it is still not right. He can’t get it right. If he could only use the stupid computer system he could get it right.

Finally he looks at his phone, several minutes after the text alert pinged.

Thanks love 😘

Unexpectedly, it makes him tear up. Always this happens to him. He does not realize how frustrated he has become with himself until it is too late.

Of course, to only make matters worse, he is still sitting hunched on the floor, pen clasped tight in his hand, teeth clenched so hard it’s hurting his jaw, when Hob comes through the door. He must have texted not far from home.

“Hey, love,” Hob’s already saying as he comes through the door, “meant to stop and grab dinner but I totally forgot— I’m sure I have something here, though— Dream?”

Dream hasn’t moved from the floor, or responded. Hob puts down his bag and comes over to him. He looks down at the fractal, which is still incomplete. “Did you draw that?”

“Obviously,” Dream bites. The pen is still in his hand. He drops it, scraping a hand through his hair. Great. Now he’s snapping at Hob, too.

Hob sits down on the floor beside him. He studies the fractal. Then points to one of the shapes that Dream’s colored in red. “That’s supposed to be purple.”

Dream stares at the fractal. Hob is right, it is meant to be purple. According to the way Dream had color-coded it digitally. He looks at Hob. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve watched you fiddling with it enough. We set it up on your laptop, remember?”

Yes. Dream remembers. He remembers how Hob had helped him.

“Wifi giving you troubles again?” Hob asks, looking from the drawing, to Dream’s laptop, which is sleeping on the couch.

Dream nods, then saws quietly, “Are you not… frustrated with me? Annoyed?”

Hob doesn’t need to ask what he means. “Sometimes,” he says, and Dream can’t help his flinch. “So?”

“So?”

Hob shrugs. “I would have missed that class if you didn’t text me.”

Dream does not understand the relevance.

Hob looks up at him, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Aren’t you annoyed with me?”

Perhaps he is, at times. Recently, Dream has been too absorbed in his project to feel much about it at all.

“I don’t know,” he says. “It is just how you are.”

Hob seems to think that Dream still doesn’t understand the point he’s making, and perhaps Dream doesn’t. Hob takes his hand. “Look. I’ve no idea why someone as smart as you are is constantly defeated by basic technology, but it doesn’t matter. Always having to be the one to fix the router is a small price to pay for having you in my life.”

Dream’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He… he does not know if anyone has ever put up with him with so little complaint. For truly, it is not only computer troubles. It is all the small things that stack upon each other to make him feel different and difficult.

“I find I do not like…” Dream admits tentatively, “when you must do these things. That I should be able to do.”

“You did the laundry the other day,” Hob says.

Why must he jump topics in this manner? “I do not understand.”

“Well, we don’t actually live together, you know. You have your own laundry. You don’t have to do mine, too.”

“I thought it would help you,” Dream says.

Hob just waits expectantly.

Dream looks down at his lap. “Ah. I… see.” Hob finds him frustrating at times, he had said so, but still wants to help him. He finds Hob’s admittance that Dream is frustrating to be a relief, in its way. He would only feel more on edge if Hob pretended otherwise, surely to snap later when Dream was least expecting it, as so many have done.

“Give me your arm,” Hob says then.

When Dream does, Hob pushes up his sleeve, takes one of the markers from the floor and writes on Dream’s forearm, the wifi password is I love you.

“There,” he says. “Now you won’t forget.”

Dream touches the words with a light fingertip. “This is not good internet security.”

“Oh, so you do listen my ramblings,” Hob says, laughing. Always, Dream thinks. “What, you’re going to throw out my valentine because I cut the heart out a little wonky?”

He makes as if to rub the marker off, and Dream pulls his arm protectively to his chest. Hob’s smile softens. He carefully pulls Dream forward into a hug, Dream’s arm pressed between them. Dream tucks his face into the crook of Hob’s neck. It’s one of his favorite places to hide.

“I’ll help you fix your program after we find some dinner,” Hob tells him, rubbing his back.

“I think I should give up on using computers,” Dream mumbles.

Hob chuckles. “See how you feel about it after I make you some brownies for dessert.”

Dream hums in pleasure at the thought, and Hob kisses the side of his head. And Dream touches, again, the words Hob’s written on his arm, where it’s pressed between them. And allows himself to smile.

Wednesday, 6:03pm

Dream is attempting to cook dinner. Hob doesn’t think it’s going so well. At least not if the blaring fire alarm, which Hob’s just silenced by waving a dish towel at it until the smoke dissipated, is any indication. But it does mean he’s been treated to the sight of Dream with his sleeves rolled up, delicate hands at work—and wearing an actual apron.

Having soothed the alarm, he leans against the counter so he can shamelessly ogle instead of helping.

“What are you even trying to make?” he asks, eyeing the still-smoking oven.

Dream pouts. “Only bread. It should not be so hard.”

“You didn’t wait for me to get home to watch?” He imagines the sight of Dream aggressively kneading the bread dough. It shouldn’t be a turn on, but it kind of is.

“You would make a spectacle of my misery?” Dream says, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knows exactly what Hob is thinking about.

“Definitely,” Hob says, and Dream sighs, but turns to take the attempt at bread out of the oven. It’s… pretty blackened, to be honest. “Butter’ll save it, I’m sure!” Hob says cheerfully.

“Nothing will save it,” says Dream, morosely. He pulls off his oven mitt in apparent disgrace, and— Hob catches his arm.

“How has this not faded yet?”

For Hob’s writing saying the wifi password is I love you is still on his forearm.

Dream looks sheepish. “I got it tattooed.”

Hob tilts his head at him, confused. “So you could remember the wifi password?”

“So that I could remember this.” He traces his finger over, I love you.

Hob feels a blush creep across his cheeks. But it’s a pleasant feeling. “This is not even my best handwriting.”

“I know,” says Dream. He does not seem unhappy about it.

Hob takes his arm, touches the words, too. “You could have just gotten this part done.”

“I think,” Dream says slowly, touching the part that says, the wifi password is, “that this is another form of the same.”

And Hob… finds himself tearing up a little. Because it’s true. It’s so silly that Dream, certifiable maths genius, struggles so much with basic computer skills. But Hob will do any silly thing for him, because he loves him.

“Yeah,” he says, taking a shaky breath. “It is.”

“Unfortunately, you can never change the wifi password now,” says Dream, and Hob laughs wetly.

“I really can’t, can I? Terrible security. The things I’ll do for you, darling.”

“Would that include making proper bread?” Dream asks, and Hob nods, patting his arm.

“We’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Now he’s wondering how he didn’t notice Dream getting a tattoo. Though to be fair, they haven’t seen each other as much in the past two weeks as they usually would, thanks to very inconvenient scheduling. Apparently Dream’s taken advantage of that time to do this.

“Can’t let you out of my sight for a second,” he says, as he fetches a new bread pan from the cupboard. “God knows what you’ll come back with next.”

“Be careful or I will consider that a challenge,” Dream says, and Hob pauses as way too many images flash through his mind. He shakes them off. He’ll never be able to focus on anything like that.

And Dream, the bastard, is smirking.

“Watch that look on your face or you might find that flour you’re holding dumped over your head,” Hob warns, but Dream only looks victorious, and utterly uncaring of the bag of flour he's precariously picked up.

“How will you ogle me kneading the dough that way?”

Hob swipes a dish towel from the counter and throws it at him. Dream yelps and spills the flour, which poofs up in a cloud of white landing all over his black t-shirt.

“Hob,” he complains.

“Serves you right, you dickhead,” Hob says. It only returns the smirk to Dream’s face.

“If you feel that way perhaps I’ll decide I don’t need your supervision,” he says archly.

Hob tears a piece off of Dream’s first attempt at a loaf. Or rather, breaks off a piece, which is hard as stone. He shows it to him as evidence.

Dream snatches it and shoves it into his mouth. Bites down with a crunch so horrifying Hob’s afraid he’s broken a tooth. But Dream persists, chewing it painstakingly and then swallowing, as if by force.

“Taste good?” Hob asks.

“Yes—” Dream starts to insist—then dissolves into a fit of coughing that swiftly turns into giggles. Hob loves it so much when he laughs like that. It’s so rare.

Hob laughs with him. Then frees the crumpled bag of flour from Dream’s grasp and sets it aside, brushes the flour and crumbs from his shirt. Then he takes Dream’s arm and runs his fingertip over the words again, still in awe.

He again finds himself having to clear his throat to avoid tearing up. But he manages, and says, “Let’s get you some proper, not burnt bread, yeah?”

“Please,” says Dream, a tad sheepish. “I am… very hungry.”

Hob kisses his cheek, then goes about solving that problem, too.

[wwwcapricorncom]

I Heard Something Outside!| Friday The 13th

Starring: Izuku Midoriya x POC Fem 

Warnings: Exhibitionism ft. Established relationship, Oral (F!Receiving), a shit ton of praise, uses of ‘pretty girl’, good girl’, needy girl’, ‘desperate’, ‘naughty’, ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘daddy’, voyeurism, noncon watching at first, semi public & unprotected s3x, Izuku = soft dom here, squirting. 18+, Minors DNI. 

Summary: You swear there’s something outside the tent you share with your boyfriend!

Kinktober 2023 Schedule | Next Story In Kinktober Series

Be kind, I'm rusty.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

The flap to the tent unzipping is the first noise that you register, the high pitched buzzes of the talking cicadas are next. The fire burning outside briefly illuminates your face as your boyfriend ducks inside. 

Immediately you put your arms up, making grabbing gestures towards him with your eyes still closed. He hums, laying on your chest and snuggling his face into you while you wrap your arms around his head. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you, baby.” Izuku mumbles, nuzzling his face against your breasts. 

You throw your leg over his large back and sigh, pressing him closer to you, “I missed you anyways,” his hands start to rub at your sides. Large, calloused hands sneakily bunching his oversized shirt farther up your skin to expose your legs, hips, and lower sides.  

“I missed you too.” He presses his lips to a clothed nipple and you giggle, “I can feel it”. His large length is pressing against your leg, nice and hard for you. 

“The boys finally left,” he starts whilst pushing the shirt above your stomach, “Denki and Hanta are smoking and I think Ejirou and Katsuki might be at the lake.” 

His hot mouth is against your belly now, pressing soft kisses into your skin even grazing his teeth every now and again as he continues downward. 

“How much time do you think we have, Zuzu?” He is sucking at the flesh below your belly button, large hand tugging your underwear down before he answers. “Enough time for me to taste you and bury my cock inside.” 

You two haven’t had any alone time all day and it seems you’re not the only one feeling the withdrawals. You wonder if his friends' constant teasing adds to this. You never knew that they teased him like they did about you, making snarky remarks like could he even handle such a sexy woman like yourself. If you two even do anything sexual or if you’re the top. 

All kinds of assumptions you never thought they would have of your baby who takes any chance he gets to bury his fingers, tongue, and cock inside you. Your baby who knows how to give until you’re crying. 

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he thumbs at your puffy clit, sucking purple marks into your inner thighs until you’re clenching his hair. 

“Need it ‘Zu.” You mumble, spreading your legs wider to coax his tongue closer. 

“My needy baby.” He coos, kissing your clit which makes your back arch off of the sleeping bag on the tent floor. He inhales deeply before diving in, his large hands are fixed firmly on the backs of your thighs. They’re in his favorite spot because with ease he can spread you open for his tongue. 

You moan when he starts from just above your ass, licking straight up until he gets to your clit where he encloses his hot lips around the perked nub. He is sucking hard while flicking his tongue quickly which makes you squirm, legs closing around his head.  

“Already, baby? C'mon let me in.” He coos against your pussy lips, giving the entirety of your core kisses before pushing your legs further back. 

“I’m so turned on, fuck!” You mumble and he hums, circling his tongue around your entrance. He knows just how much you love doing sexual activities in new places. Your senses are probably in overdrive right now being in the middle of the woods. 

Oh and they are. This is why through the blankets of pleasure and raunchy slurping, you hear a twig snap. You freeze, “Izuku, I heard something.” You whine and he groans into your mound, tongue not stopping his onslaught. 

“Please baby c-check.” You moan and he hums slowly detaching his lips from your cunny. He sits up, face pink and jaw wet, before unzipping some of the tent flap. The rush of air that pushes inside attempts to eat at your overheated bodies. 

He pops his head out and looks over the campgrounds that you all set up this morning. Three tents and a bunch of chairs are still around the burning fire that you all made when it started getting dark. He squints just past that to the trees that enclose that campgrounds to make sure an animal or his friends aren’t approaching. Your small foot tickling his ear makes his attention revert back to you, “anything out there?”

“No baby, c’mere.” He doesn’t bother closing the flap up, opting to allow air inside for you two. Instead, he ducks low again, pulling you further down towards his mouth. 

“You barely even looked!,” you giggle which turns into a low moan when he is licking through your folds again. The noise you heard is lost on you, but the four men are more than pissing themselves, having almost just been caught. 

Katsuki sends a death glare at Eijiro who stepped on the twig while the other men punch his arm slightly. Quickly though, everyone’s attention is back on the tent. Your actions are displayed through shadowy silhouettes made by the light in your tent. However, their breaths hitch now that they can see a little slice into your world through the unzipped flap. 

Your cute legs are pressed to your body as he slurps and licks with pressure that has your eyes squeezed shut. You tug on Izuku's hair hard enough that he winces, groaning as he bucks his hips, “ ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that!”

“Yea? You like when I eat you out in the woods? That’s so naughty, baby.” He states, pushing a finger inside your spongy pussy and you’re melting. He wastes no time attacking your g spot and all you can do is nod, ears burning as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Give me a good one, sweetheart, so you can take this cock.” He knows your body all too well, knows just how hard to push his finger against your squishy button to have you seizing. 

Your head lolls back as you feel your orgasm approaching, but Izuku captures it in his hand, keeping you upright so that you’re facing him. The men can hear his lewd encouragements laced with your pants:

“Just like that, cling to my finger just like that.”  

“Fuck, you’re doing great!” 

Then you’re moaning so loudly that all the men's eyes are widening, watching you come all over their friends' fingers. 

Minutes later he is towering over you, swooping to press kisses laced with your slick that he sucked off his fingers to your glowing skin before prompting you to lift your arms up. The men hold their breath when your breasts spill from your shirt, making it harder for them to look away. 

Izuku’s shirt follows fast, pushing his shorts and underwear just below his cock which is twitching with precum. They all hold back a groan when you grab your legs for him, holding them open as he aligns himself with a grin. Praises follow, “good girl, gonna fuck you so good.” 

“Oh my-” You have to bite your lip to shut yourself up because you're too loud. You can never get used to how good Izuku stretches you out. How good he fills you up.  

“Let me fucking hear you.” You’re no stranger to the sweet man’s demands, but the four men are shocked. Especially when he grabs your hips and digs his cock deeper into you, forcing a cry from your mouth. 

He chuckles as if he isn’t stretching your pussy out beyond belief, “there’s your beautiful voice!” 

His thrusts are more desperate than they normally would be in the beginning, fast and deep as he plunges through your velvety walls. His face is flushed and his green tufts are starting to get wet as he loses himself in your soaked pussy. You’re a wet mess, he can literally part you in half with ease and he loves. 

“Zuzu,” you whine and to the men outside it sounds like you’re close, but what do they know about you? Izuku knows that whine, that sexy little perverted whine. 

He bites his lip looking down at you , “you want more don’t you, baby.” You’re nodding vigorously. 

“Yes I want you deeper, baby. I need it.” 

He halts, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss that has you heaving when he departs, “so desperate.” 

He has you flipped over in an instant, so quick to give you what you want. A large hand lands on your hip, squeezing as he takes his cock in hand. You’re still panting from his meticulous manhandling when he pushes that fat mushroom tip into you that has you gasping. 

His other hand lands on your hip and he snaps his hips forward, hard, sending you forward. Your body subconsciously tries to escape the brutal smashing of his fat cock into your cervix. Your hips move forward as he is preparing to thrust back in and he snickers. “C’mere. Why’re you running?” 

He places a hand on your back and you freeze, knowing what’s to come. He’s rough when he presses you down into the ground, he knows you like it like that, pushing his cock deep into you. 

“This is what you wanted right?” You mewl out a feeble ‘yes’ as he kisses the back of sweaty neck, but brings a large hand down against your ass. You yelp out a mantra of ‘yes’s much louder than before. 

Precum spills from his cock and he groans, nodding, “show me then.” 

As if you two have rehearsed this, you perch up on all fours and start to shakily thrust your ass into him. You look back at him, watching as he throws his head back. His pink tongue swipes across his lips as he lets out an accomplished groan. It gives you the encouragement and strength you need to push into him more, sending his cock against your g spot.  

“It’s sooo deep!” Your voice is low and hoarse as you spear yourself on his erect cock. He’s starting to unravel, groping your tits and kissing and biting your shoulder. 

“Fuck, faster sweetheart, FASTER.” He starts to match your thrusts. It sounds like it could be painful the way your thunderous ass comes into contact with the flesh of his pelvis. If not for the shlick sounds omitting from between your legs. The four men can hear it clear as day, you're soaked. 

“Like this daddy?” You seek his approval desperately, launching your ass against him just so he can catch it with his own rough thrusts. It’s impressive how well he handles you, the way he stays upright and calculated against the onslaught of your round cheeks. 

A stuttered whine leaves your mouth as your body freezes, “zukuuuuu! I heard it again!” Your senses are too good for your own sake, the men think as they look at Denki. 

“G-go check?” It comes off unsure like you don’t fully want him to leave. 

He chuckles, not slowly his hips, “but you’re so warm,” You clench around him in response, “you’re so safe right now.” He murmurs against your skin. 

You're keening against him, “ahhh, fuck, thank you daddy!” He places a hand on your shoulder, starting to push against your gspot. You're moaning loudly, spreading your legs more so he can dig even deeper as if he can come out of your mouth. 

Once again the noise is lost on you, but this time Izuku did hear it. Another skill of Izuku’s besides pussy obliterating is his ability to multitask. He never misses a beat, continuing to stuff you and earn moans and sloshes as he eyes outside the flap. 

He can see them now— the four men frozen just beyond the campgrounds, almost obscured by trees and bushes. His hot chest is against your sweaty back in an instant, his lips pressing against your ear. 

Teeth and spit against your ear make you shiver, “ ‘m sorry baby I think the boys are watching out there.” You don’t stop taking his cock in fact you slope your back more. 

“Wanna keep going if you do.” You throw him a doe eyed glance like you’ll follow him to the end of the burning world. It makes his balls twitch as he nods, hoisting you upright which makes you squeal. 

Now you’re both upright on your knees, the men have a full view of your curvaceous body being fucked into. He is a groaning mess now, grunting and slamming into your pussy like a madman. Your breasts bounce sporadically and he places a large hand on the little pouch of your stomach to keep you from running. 

“Fuck, so rough. Izuku!” You whine, but he hushes you with a snap of his hips, cock directed towards you spongy spot and you’re reeling. 

He’s all over you. His arms wrapped so tight around you that you two are basically glued together. His lips kiss and nip at your ear before he shoves his tongue inside like he would when he’s between your legs. All the while his cock never stops grinding against every nook and cranny of your pussy, smashing your squishy spot over and over again. 

“Whose is it?” He asks, knowing it’ll push you right over. 

You’re wailing, “it’s all yours Izuku! Oh god!” 

You’re trembling, eyes glued shut as you start to fall into your orgasm. Expletives leave his mouth as he struggles to pull out of you when you're literally suffocating his cock.Normally he would leave his length inside of you, but this time he pulls out making you whine. Until you feel the pads off his fingers rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles. 

Your eyes fly open and you choke on a moan, clamping your hand to his wrist in an attempt to halt his actions. It’s futile and only lasts mere seconds when he pushes you into a squirting orgasm. 

Tears prick your eyes as you let out a sob, ruining the sleeping bag beneath you with the rush of warm liquid that splatters on your boyfriend too. They’re gasping, they can hear your release as it hits the sleeping bag. If they want a show, then he’ll give them one, he thinks as he pushes his cock back inside you.  

“I’m too sensitive! Izuku!!” You’re a hiccuping mess, “want me to cum outside then?” 

Your head falls against his shoulder, conceding your body to him. “No” You shake your head, tears getting ready to fall, “Don’t spill a drop outside my pussy.” 

He groans, he’s eyes screwing shut as he thanks you, “That’s it, oh fuck, I knew you wanted daddy’s cum.” 

“---can’t even think straight.” You’re crying. He knows how to make you cry so good, wet cheeks as a sign of pure pleasure. Every hair on your body up as he continues to pump and pump and pump. 

You know he is close when his blunt nails dig into your hips, “Here! Here, gonna give it to you so deep!”

And he does. Your body clenches around him like you’re designed for nothing more than to be stuffed with his seed. You don’t know who groans louder, you or him, when he crams every last drop inside of you. 

His head falls into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning your damp skin, “I’m going to take you camping more often, pretty girl.”  

A broken giggle leaves your mouth along with his chuckle before he pulls out. You huff completely spent as you watch him pull up his underwear and shorts before he starts helping you come down from your high and into his shirt. 

“Let’s go wash off in the lake.” 

He makes sure to carry you bridal style with the promise of more aftercare, kissing your skin as he explains that you don’t need your panties. 

The next morning the men are silent. Not one joke about Izuku’s ability and it has you two rolling. 

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 5)

summary: y/n receives a curious invitation from meeks and has a surprise encounter with neil and todd

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

previous | next

It was finally Friday, and Y/N was looking forward to spending the weekend recovering from a week of non-stop exams, cramming, and a nonexistent sleep schedule. The morning’s classes had been a drag so far, and they were looking forward to the reprieve of Keating’s class. Knowing they'd be in close proximity to their admirer aside, Keating’s class gave them an opportunity to activate another part of their brain—one concerned less with grades and formulas.

No, this part was more concerned with matters of feeling. Matters of love, art, expression—everything crucial to finding true meaning in life.

Meaning.

Something that Y/N’s life—and the students of Welton’s lives—was severely lacking.

Y/N shoved the existential crisis to the back of their mind, shooting Todd a smile as he occupied the desk at the front of the class.

Their desk compartment was empty aside from their textbook and notes. Y/N felt their heart drop. It had been empty for days.

Did I make a mistake leaving that poem?

Y/N did their best to not look disappointed. The only thing more embarrassing than their poet’s lack of response was the thought of him observing their discontent.

Keating’s class didn't give them much reprieve that day.

_________________________________________ 

Against their better judgment, Y/N found themselves in the library during common hour. In all truth, Y/N just wanted to go back to their dorm and bang their head against the wall until they fell asleep. Alas, the expectation of a 4.0 GPA was looming over their head.

Thankfully, Meeks was the only other person to show up. Y/N didn't think they had the strength to deal with Dalton.

“So are you just going to keep side eyeing me, or do you have something to say?” Y/N set down their pencil and turned to face Meeks.

“Y/N, you've sighed three times within the last minute,” Meeks quipped, "seems like you're the one with something to say."

“But I'm right, though. You have something you want to say."

“I'll share with the class if you will.”

The two stared at each other for a moment—Meeks' expression much lighter compared to Y/N’s frustrated features.

Y/N gave in first.

“I’m tired, Meeks."

“Of?..."

“Everything.”

“You’re going to have to give me a little more here, Y/N.”

“…”

"I'm waiting."

“My GPA dropped to a 3.7," Y/N’s gaze was fixed to the table, “my parents are not happy. I feel like all I ever do is try, but it's not enough, and it never will be. My social life is practically nonexistent, I don't remember the last time I had fun, and I can feel my spirit dying. Some days it feels like I'm dying."

“You’re more than your grades, Y/N. You have to know that."

“I know that, Meeks. They don't,” Y/N let out a bitter laugh, “they ship me off to this prison, don't let me come home for breaks, and they call me maybe twice a semester if I'm lucky. They see my grades more than they ever see me."

Meeks was silent for a beat as Y/N cradled their head in their hands.

“Tomorrow night. Meet me outside the East wing at 10PM.”

“Meeks, what are you—“

“Just trust me. If you care about your spirit, anyway."

“Fine,” Y/N began packing their bag and stood up, nodding absentmindedly, "yeah, okay."

Because everything was cosmically determined to go wrong, Y/N crashed into Charlie as they rounded the corner out of the library. Their armload of textbooks crashed to the floor.

“Don’t you know to look both ways before crossing the street?" Charlie joked as he knelt to pick up Y/N’s books.

Y/N kept their head down as they gathered the mess of note paper that exploded out of their trig book.

“I mean, really, Y/N. If you want to feel me up you don't need to be so aggressive about it—“

Charlie’s sly smile melted into concern when he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

"Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” Charlie passed the books to Y/N and placed a gentle hand on their upper am.

Y/N gave the boy a tight lipped smile and stepped away from his touch.

“I'm fine, Dalton," Y/N was already moving down the hall.

“Y/N—“

“If you're looking for Meeks, he's still in there."

Y/N disappeared around the corner, leaving Charlie staring at the space they just occupied.

_________________________________________

Y/N wasn’t one for skipping class, but it was the last period of the day and Y/N thought their head would explode if they didn’t get away from everyone as soon as possible.

They triple checked that the hallway was empty before rushing into the storage room filled with students’ empty luggage.

But the room wasn’t unoccupied like they expected.

Neil Perry and Todd Anderson were in the middle of the room, locked in a gentle embrace.

They jumped apart when they heard Y/N’s soft sound of surprise, and the trio looked at each other in shock for a beat.

“We were just—” Neil took a step away from Todd before the other boy cut him off, surprising everyone, seemingly including himself.

“We’re together.”

They all stared at each other for another moment before Neil stepped forward again.

“You can’t tell anyone, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” Y/N blinked, suddenly coming alive again, “I would never.”

Relief washed over the two boys. Todd was more red than Y/N thought was humanly possible.

“Okay, I’m just gonna,” Y/N took a step back and jerked a thumb over their shoulder at the door, “go…”

They turned quickly to leave.

“Y/N.” Neil’s hand enclosed their wrist as they reached for the doorknob.

They looked up into Neil’s soft gaze, a faint smile on his face, “thank you.”

“Of course,” they returned the smile and waved to Todd as they slipped out the door, rushing to their dorm to avoid being caught for truancy.

_________________________________________

Y/N had been laying in bed for all of fifteen minutes before they heard the familiar sound of paper sliding under the door.

They were out of bed and rushing to open the door before they could think twice. Truancy be damned.

The empty hallway mocked Y/N.

Frustrated tears welled in their eyes as they slammed the door and grabbed the envelope off the floor before ripping it open.

Beloved Y/N,

In your eyes, a storm silently brews, Emotional tempest, tears it strews. I stand close, a silent observer, Love entangled in your pain, a fervent preserver.

Your hurt, a whisper in the quiet air, A shared burden, a weight to bear. In the shadows, love stands strong, A balm for wounds, a solace lifelong.

In the heart's tempest, emotions entwine, Love persists, a steadfast lifeline. I may not heal all that pains your soul, But together, in love, we find a way to be whole.

x, Yours.

Y/N let the tears flow freely as they sunk down onto the bed.

They were certain of who wasn’t their poet, but they were in denial about who it could be.

~~~

part six

a/n: any reality where neil and todd aren't in love is a crime against nature

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed. 

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway. 

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy. 

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room. 

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend. 

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?” 

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine." 

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open. 

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with. 

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds. 

Steve points to himself, "Business." 

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous." 

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake. 

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday. 

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says. 

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back. 

"It's my bed!" 

"I think not!" 

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!" 

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

 

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses. 

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here. 

What else is new? 

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely. 

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face. 

"This okay?" Steve asks. 

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this. 

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care. 

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now. 

Eddie rolls on top of him. 

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?" 

Eddie cackles, "No." 

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning. 

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!