#and he refuses to jump onto his couch blanket

[batnbreakfast]

POV: You stopped scratching the dog for two seconds.

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[the-winter-spider]

Under Pressure | two

Bucky x reader Modern AU

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: Depression, Angst, mentions of su!cide

Part One

The days after Bucky left blurred together in a suffocating haze. Time had lost all meaning; the hours stretched endlessly, bleeding into each other until they were indistinguishable. Morning, afternoon, evening—it didn’t matter. You existed more than you lived, moving through the motions like a robot.

You told yourself you needed to get up, to move, to do something. So you tried. God, you tried. You Googled solutions like your life depended on it. “How to deal with depression alone,” “How to stop feeling numb,” “Ways to make life better.”

Meditation was the first thing you found, so you gave it a shot. You sat cross-legged on the living room floor, your back straight, your hands resting on your knees. The world around you was quiet—too quiet. Closing your eyes, you tried to focus on your breathing, in and out, in and out, just like the video said. But every inhale felt shallow, every exhale jagged. The silence wasn’t calming. It only made the noise in your head louder: This is pointless. You’re pointless. Nothing will ever change.

Next came exercise. You dragged yourself into old workout clothes that felt too loose, the fabric hanging from your frame. You stood in the middle of your apartment, pacing back and forth, trying to summon the energy to do something—anything. You managed a few jumping jacks, then collapsed onto the couch, your chest heaving, not from exertion but from the weight pressing down on you. Your body felt heavy, leaden, like gravity had increased just for you.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, hot tears slipping down your temples and pooling in your ears. You wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but your voice felt stuck somewhere deep inside you.

The darkness, though—that was always there. It wasn’t loud or forceful. It was subtle, enticing, warm in its own terrible way. It wrapped around you like a blanket, whispering promises of relief. Promises of escape. You don’t have to do this. You can stop anytime you want.

You hated it. But at the same time, you couldn’t fight it. You couldn’t resist the way it pulled you under, like quicksand swallowing you whole.

While you fought your battle alone, Bucky fought his own war just outside your door.

He’d lingered there more than once, standing in the hallway of your building with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. The cold, sterile light of the hallway flickered above him, buzzing faintly. He told himself he shouldn’t be there. You’d made it clear that you wanted him to leave you alone. But he couldn’t stay away.

The weight of your words still clung to him, suffocating and relentless. He replayed that night over and over in his head: the way you’d yelled at him to go, the pain and anger in your voice, the way you’d looked so small as you stood there, refusing to let him in.

It broke him in ways he hadn’t expected. Because the last thing he ever wanted was to leave you feeling alone—or to actually leave you alone.

Once, he’d heard movement from inside: the scrape of a chair, the faint hum of a shower running. For a brief moment, relief flooded through him. He’d exhaled shakily, telling himself you were okay. But by the time he got back to his own apartment, doubt had crept in. What if you weren’t okay? What if the sound was just you existing, not living?

He couldn’t stop thinking about the people who were supposed to be there for you. Your parents. The ones who should have loved you unconditionally, who should have made you feel safe and valued. He hated them for failing you so profoundly. For being absent, for neglecting you, for leaving wounds so deep they may never fully heal.

He wanted to march up to them and scream. Tell them how deeply, endlessly wrong they were to let you believe you were anything less than extraordinary. To let you think, even for a moment, that you weren’t enough.

And then there was you. God, he wanted to tell you the same thing. He wanted to hold you, to wrap you in his arms and take all the sadness, all the pain, and carry it himself if it meant you could finally feel free. He wanted to tell you that you were everything. That the world was brighter, warmer, better just because you were in it.

But he didn’t. Because he’d promised to give you space. Because he was afraid that if he came back too soon, he’d only make things worse. And because part of him—an ugly, self-loathing part—felt like he’d already failed you the moment he walked out that door.

Still, staying away was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go back, to fix it, to make you see what he saw. But he lingered outside your door instead, waiting. Hoping.

Bucky clenched his fists, his chest tight as he leaned against the wall outside your apartment. He dared to care. He dared to love. But he wasn’t sure if it would ever be enough.

Cause love's such an old fashioned word

---

The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the beachside restaurant. The waves lapped gently at the shore, the sound rhythmic and soothing against the soft murmur of conversation. String lights crisscrossed above the outdoor tables, their soft twinkle mirrored by the first stars peeking out of the darkening sky.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, a rare moment of unguarded laughter spilling from her lips as she sipped her drink. The cocktail glass glinted in the light, and her eyes crinkled at the corners—a look of pure, unfiltered joy. She had no idea what was coming, no idea that tonight was about to become one of the most important moments of her life.

Across the table, Steve shifted nervously in his seat, his hand brushing the small velvet box hidden in his pocket. His palms were damp, his throat dry, but when he glanced at Natasha, his nerves melted away. She looked so happy, so carefree, her face glowing in the warm light.

He cleared his throat, his chair scraping slightly against the wooden deck as he stood. The table fell silent, all eyes turning to him. “Natasha,” he began, his voice shaky but filled with determination, “you’ve been my rock since the day I met you. You’ve seen me at my best, my worst, and everything in between. And somehow, you’ve stayed by my side through it all.”

Natasha tilted her head, her brows furrowing in confusion, but a soft smile tugged at her lips as she watched him.

“I never thought I’d get so lucky,” Steve continued, his words steadying as his confidence grew. “Lucky enough to find someone as strong, as smart, as absolutely incredible as you. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”

As he spoke, his hand slipped into his pocket. When he pulled out the small velvet box and opened it, revealing a glittering diamond ring, Natasha’s hand flew to her mouth.

Gasps rippled through the small group seated at the table, and Natasha’s eyes widened, filling with tears as Steve sank to one knee in front of her.

“Natasha Romanoff,” he said, his smile soft and full of love, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Natasha’s lips trembled as she tried to speak, her hand still covering her mouth. Tears spilled over her cheeks, and she nodded vigorously, her voice breaking as she finally choked out, “Yes. Yes, of course!”

Cheers erupted from the table, applause filling the air as Steve slid the ring onto her finger and stood, pulling her into his arms. Natasha laughed through her tears, clinging to him like she never wanted to let go.

From behind the bushes near the edge of the patio, Bucky and Sam emerged, grinning like proud parents as they joined the group. They weren’t alone—several of Natasha’s coworkers had been waiting for the signal as well, and together they swarmed the table, their cheers and congratulations echoing under the string lights.

Bucky clapped Steve on the back, his grin wide as he said, “About time, Rogers. Thought you were gonna chicken out.”

Steve chuckled, his arm still firmly around Natasha. “Not a chance.”

Sam raised his glass. “To Steve and Nat—the only two people who could make the rest of us look like amateurs at this whole ‘love’ thing.”

The group laughed and raised their glasses, the sound of clinking glass filling the air.

But amidst the laughter and celebration, Natasha’s happiness faltered. Her eyes scanned the group, her smile fading slightly as she looked around. She was searching for someone. And she didn’t see them.

Her gaze landed on Bucky, and her expression shifted to one of quiet frustration. “She’s not here, is she?” she asked softly.

Bucky’s smile faded, and he shook his head, his shoulders sagging slightly. “No. I haven’t seen her.”

Natasha pressed her lips into a thin line, turning to Steve. “You told her, didn’t you? You texted her?”

Steve’s smile slipped into something more serious. “I texted her,” he said. “Left her a voicemail. Even went to her apartment.” He paused, his tone heavy. “But… nothing. She didn’t respond.”

Sam stepped closer, placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Don’t dwell on it, Nat,” he said gently. “You know how she gets. She just needs time. She’ll be okay. She’s done this before.”

“I know she’s done this before,” Natasha snapped, her voice sharp but tinged with hurt. “I know. But friends are supposed to be happy with you. She should be here.” Her voice cracked, and she looked down at the ring on her finger, her tears threatening to fall again. “If it were her…” She swallowed hard. “If she were getting engaged, I’d drop everything. Just to be there for her.”

Steve stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Don’t hold it against her,” he murmured. “You don’t know what’s going on in her head. It’s not about you. It’s about whatever she’s fighting.”

Natasha let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Anyway,” she muttered, her voice clipped as she wiped her tears and forced a smile. “We’re celebrating, right?”

Steve kissed her temple, his smile soft but understanding. “That’s right. Let’s get another round,” he said, raising his glass.

The group cheered again, their voices loud and bright as they toasted the newly engaged couple. But even as Natasha laughed and smiled, her eyes lingered on the horizon, a shadow of worry flickering behind her joy.

Bucky stood nearby, his drink untouched. He caught Natasha’s glance and gave her a small, apologetic nod. He knew what she was feeling—because he felt it too.

As the party carried on around them, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

And love dares you to care for the people at the edge of the night

---

The high school was alive with energy. The halls buzzed with the usual pre-game excitement: students laughing and shouting, their faces painted with team colors, and jerseys swishing as they ran through the corridors. The air was electric, full of youthful adrenaline and anticipation.

But Bucky wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t swept up in the contagious thrill of game day.

He was pacing.

His boots scuffed against the linoleum as he moved back and forth, his jaw tight and his hands shaking slightly. His helmet dangled loosely in one hand, forgotten, while his other raked through his hair for the hundredth time.

“Man, relax,” Sam said, leaning casually against a locker with his arms crossed, his usual grin in place. “Maybe she’s just sick. People miss school all the time.”

Bucky froze mid-step, turning sharply to face Sam. “You don’t understand,” he snapped, his voice low but tense, like a wire about to snap.

Sam’s grin faltered, and he pushed off the locker, his posture straightening. “Then make me understand,” he said, his tone softer now.

Steve, standing nearby, frowned as he adjusted his jersey. “What’s going on, Buck? She’ll be back tomorrow, right?”

Bucky let out a shaky breath, running his hand down his face. His chest felt too tight, like it couldn’t expand fully, like every breath was a struggle. He glanced around the hall, making sure no one was paying attention, before lowering his voice.

“She’s not just sick, okay?” he said, his tone urgent. His eyes darted between Sam and Steve, desperate for them to get it. “She gets… sad. Not normal sad. It’s different. She told me…” His voice caught, his throat tightening. “She told me she has depression. Real, bad depression.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And sometimes it gets so bad…” He paused again, his voice cracking. “She told me she doesn’t wanna be alive anymore.”

The air around them seemed to still. Sam’s eyes widened, his easy going demeanor evaporating in an instant. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, the words barely audible. “She's only 17..”

Steve’s face darkened, his brows furrowing deeply as the weight of Bucky’s words sank in. “How bad, Buck?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Bucky admitted, his voice trembling now. “I haven’t heard from her since Tuesday. That’s three days. She always texts me back, always. Even if it’s just a stupid thumbs-up.” He shook his head, his movements restless. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

Steve stepped forward, his hand landing firmly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Go,” he said simply.

“What?” Bucky asked, blinking at him in disbelief.

“Go to her,” Steve repeated, his tone steady and commanding. “We’ll cover for you. We can win one game without you. If anyone asks, I’ll say you had to run home for something. Just go. It’s Y/N.”

Bucky hesitated for only a second, his hand tightening around his helmet. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice cracking with uncertainty.

“Of course,” Steve said, his voice softening. “It’s her. Just go.”

Bucky didn’t need to be told again. He ripped off his gear, tossing it onto the bench as he turned and sprinted down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest as he pushed through the school doors and into the cold evening air, the sounds of cheers and chants fading behind him.

By the time he reached your house, his lungs burned, and his legs ached from running, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even pause to catch his breath as he climbed the porch steps, his hand closing around the doorknob. It turned easily.

Unlocked. Of course.

The house was dark, silent except for the faint hum of the fridge. The emptiness pressed against him like a weight.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice echoing in the stillness.

No response.

“Y/N!” he shouted again, his voice cracking with panic as he moved through the house. He checked your bedroom first, his eyes scanning the unmade bed and the dimly lit corners. Nothing.

He flung open the bathroom door. Empty.

Then he felt it—a faint breeze brushing past him, carrying the smell of the night air. His stomach dropped as he turned toward your parents’ room, the door slightly ajar.

“Shit,” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat as he stepped forward, pushing the door open.

There you were.

Standing on the railing of the balcony, your arms outstretched slightly as the wind whipped around you. The sight hit him like a physical blow, his vision narrowing as fear gripped him.

“Sweet girl,” he said softly, his voice trembling as he stepped onto the balcony.

You didn’t turn around. You let out a sad laugh instead, the sound hollow and brittle. “You always call me the sweetest names, Bucky.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. “That’s because you’re my best girl,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And you deserve the best. You hear me?”

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze fixed on the horizon. “Why do I feel like this all the time?”

He took another cautious step forward, his hand hovering near your ankle, ready to grab you at the slightest movement. “I don’t know, angel,” he said gently, his voice filled with desperation. “But I’d do anything to help you. Anything. I just need you to get down, okay? Please.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, your glassy eyes meeting his. “I just don’t wanna feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

A sudden gust of wind made you sway, and Bucky’s heart stopped.

“NO!” he shouted, surging forward and grabbing the back of your shirt. He yanked you toward him with all the strength he could muster, pulling you off the railing and onto the balcony floor.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his voice shaking as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. One hand pressed to the back of your head, the other gripping your shoulder as though letting go wasn’t an option.

You broke down, your sobs wracking your body as you clung to him. His lips pressed against the top of your head over and over, his voice soft and pleading. “Please don’t do that again,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. “Please. I can’t lose you. I never wanna know what it feels like to lose you. Promise me, sweet girl. Promise me you won’t.”

Your voice was muffled against his chest, but you managed to choke out, “Okay.”

“Promise me,” he repeated, pulling back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face.

“I promise,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, relief flooding his features as he pulled you close again, holding you like you were the most fragile, precious thing in the world.

Because to him, you were.

And for the rest of the night, he didn’t let go.

And love dares you to change our ways of caring about ourselves

----

The pounding on your door shattered the suffocating silence of your apartment. It echoed like a gunshot, jarring and relentless. Natasha’s voice followed immediately, sharp and furious, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Y/N, open the door!” she demanded, her tone full of anger and something else—hurt. “I know you’re in there. You’re always in there.”

You didn’t move. You stood frozen on the other side, your back pressed against the door, your breath shallow and uneven. Your eyes were glued to the blank, lifeless living room in front of you, the dim light casting long, eerie shadows across the walls.

“Don’t ignore me!” Natasha’s voice rose, her words pounding against your chest like the fists she was slamming against the door. “You don’t get to just hide! Not this time!”

Your fingers clutched the edge of your hoodie, trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. Her words were like bullets, each one hitting harder than the last, shattering the fragile shell you’d built around yourself.

“I can’t believe you,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I thought we were best friends. I thought we were sisters. I thought I mattered to you.” Her voice wavered, trembling with emotion. “But no—you couldn’t even bother to show up. Not for me. Not for Steve. Not for any of us. Do you even care? Do you even care about anyone but yourself?”

The accusation tore through you like a blade. Your knees buckled slightly, but you didn’t fall. You stayed rooted in place, staring blankly ahead as hot tears began to fall, carving silent trails down your cheeks.

“Friends are supposed to be there for each other!” Natasha continued, her voice raw and desperate. “I would have dropped everything for you. I have dropped everything for you. But when it’s my turn, when I’m happy, you—” She broke off, her breath hitching.

You pressed your forehead against the cold wood of the door, biting your lip so hard it nearly bled. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that you did care, that you cared so much it hurt. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck, tangled in the knot in your throat, suffocated by the weight of your guilt.

“Do you even know what that feels like, Y/N?” Natasha’s voice cracked, thick with tears. “To have someone you love not care enough to show up?”

Her words were a dagger, sinking deep into your chest. Your body shook with silent sobs, your hands gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly your knuckles ached.

Finally, her voice softened, the anger giving way to something far worse—disappointment. “You could’ve at least tried,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I deserved that much.”

Her next words were barely a whisper, but they hit you like a hammer: “I don’t think I can do this anymore….be your friend.”

The silence that followed was deafening, suffocating. You heard her take a shaky breath, and then the sound of her footsteps retreating down the hall.

You stayed there, slumped against the door, the tears flowing freely now. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by the crushing guilt and the emptiness that seemed to expand inside you.

She was right. You should’ve been there. You should’ve tried.

But you didn’t.

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shame. Your phone buzzed constantly, the screen lighting up with messages and missed calls, each one a reminder of how deeply you’d failed them.

Sam: Hey, girl. Haven’t heard from you in a bit. You okay?

Sam: Look, I know you’re going through it, but you’re worrying me. At least text me back, yeah?

Sam: I miss you. We all do. Just… let me know you’re alive, okay?

The voicemails from Steve were harder to stomach.

“Hey, it’s Steve. Just checking in again. I, uh… I don’t know what to say that’ll make you answer me, but I hope you’re okay. Call me when you can.”

And then another, this time quieter, more hesitant. “Y/N. Please. We’re all worried. Just… let me know you’re okay.”

Sam again, his voice more urgent this time. “Y/N. Come on. Just one text. That’s all I’m asking for. We love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

You listened to each one, your phone clutched tightly in your hands, tears streaming down your face. But you didn’t reply. You couldn’t. You didn’t deserve their worry, their care.

But it was Bucky’s name on your call list that haunted you the most.

Every night, you paced your apartment, your thumb hovering over his name, your chest tight with indecision. His name stared back at you, a lifeline you couldn’t bring yourself to grab.

You thought about his voice, the way he’d say your name like it was the most important thing in the world. You thought about the way he’d looked at you that night, his eyes filled with hurt and confusion as you yelled at him to leave.

You wanted to call him. God, you wanted to call him.

But every time your finger hovered over the call button, your breath hitched, and the doubts crept in. What if he didn’t answer? What if he was still angry? What if you dragged him down with you, and he finally realized you weren’t worth the effort?

So you didn’t.

Every night, you stood there with the phone in your hand, tears streaking your face, your breaths shaky and uneven. Every night, you almost called him.

But every night, you couldn’t.

And the silence grew heavier, the weight of it pressing down on you like it was trying to crush the little life you had left out of you.

This is our last dance

---

Bucky stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. His reflection stared back at him, but the man in the mirror didn’t feel like him. His hands trembled slightly as he fastened the last button, smoothing the fabric over his chest in a futile attempt to steady himself.

This felt wrong. All of it.

He turned to the dresser, where his phone sat just within reach. The screen was dark, but he could still feel the weight of your name sitting in his call list, just waiting. His fingers twitched with the urge to pick it up, to text you, to call you, to say he was sorry for walking out that night.

But he didn’t.

Because you’d been so hostile, so closed off. You’d shouted at him to leave, your voice breaking with pain and anger, and it had cut deeper than he wanted to admit. He knew you were hurting, but so was he. And as much as he hated himself for it, he hadn’t been strong enough to stay.

His thoughts drifted back to Natasha’s visit to your apartment earlier that week. She’d told him about it when they were sitting in Steve’s kitchen, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“I gave her an earful through the door,” Natasha had said, her voice tight with a mix of anger and sadness. “I told her I didn’t want to be friends anymore if she couldn’t be there for me during my brightest moments. I know she’s going through it, Buck, but this… this was too much.”

Bucky had sat stiffly in his chair, his jaw clenching as her words sunk in. “And what did she say?” he’d asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Natasha replied, her voice breaking slightly. “She didn’t say anything. Didn’t open the door, didn’t even acknowledge I was there.”

Bucky’s fists had tightened at his sides. He hadn’t said anything, but the anger bubbling beneath the surface wasn’t for you—it was for Natasha, for not understanding, for expecting more from you when you were barely holding yourself together. But he didn’t defend you either. He couldn’t. He didn’t know how.

That night, unable to stop himself, he’d gone to your apartment. He’d leaned against the wall outside your door for forty-five minutes, straining to hear anything—anything at all. When he finally heard the faint sound of footsteps, relief had coursed through him.

But it didn’t last.

The relief was fleeting, overshadowed by the same helplessness that had plagued him since the night he left. He wanted to knock, to call out your name, to beg you to let him in. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, even if he wasn’t sure it would be.

But he didn’t. Because you’d shut him out so completely, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

Now, as he stood in his room, the weight of everything pressed down on him like a stone. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not with everything going on. But he’d already agreed to the date with Olivia, and canceling felt like admitting defeat.

A knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.

He opened it to find Olivia standing there, smiling brightly in a simple dress and a leather jacket. Her blonde hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. She looked beautiful, and Bucky forced a smile in return, even as it felt hollow.

“Hey,” she said, her voice warm and cheerful. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his jacket and keys. He shut the door behind him, his mind still lingering on you as they walked down the hallway together.

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, the air filled with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Olivia had chosen the place, and it was perfect—intimate without feeling stuffy, charming without trying too hard.

She was kind, funny, and easy to talk to. She laughed at his jokes, asked him questions about his interests, and smiled at him like he was the only person in the room.

But to Bucky, it all felt wrong.

As Olivia talked about her childhood, Bucky’s mind wandered back to you. He thought about the way you’d laugh when you thought no one was listening, how it was soft and genuine and lit up a room in a way no one else’s could. He thought about the late-night conversations you’d shared over takeout, your voice quiet and full of trust as you let him see pieces of yourself that no one else did.

And then he thought about the last time he saw you. The way your voice cracked when you yelled at him to leave, the hurt and anger in your eyes. The way you’d looked so small, so fragile, as you stood there, refusing to let him help you.

“Bucky?”

Olivia’s voice pulled him back to the present. She was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and concern, her smile faltering slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, forcing a smile. “Sorry. Just… long week.”

She nodded, accepting the answer, but the concern in her eyes didn’t fade entirely.

Bucky felt a pang of guilt. Olivia didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him sitting across from her, half-present, his heart and mind clearly somewhere else. She deserved someone who could look at her the way Steve looked at Natasha, who could give her all the attention and affection she deserved.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop worrying about you.

And he couldn’t stop loving you.

As the date went on, he tried—he really did. He asked her questions, made jokes, even managed to laugh at a few of her stories. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always circled back to you.

What were you doing right now? Were you okay? Were you eating? Sleeping? Or were you standing on that balcony again, the wind whipping around you like it had that night in high school?

“Bucky?” Olivia said again, pulling him from his thoughts for the second time that night.

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring at his untouched drink for far too long. “Sorry,” he said again, his voice quieter now.

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time. “It’s okay,” she said softly.

But it wasn’t.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Bucky knew this date wasn’t fair to her—or to himself.

This is our last dance.

---

The weight that had been pressing down on you for weeks finally collapsed in on itself, suffocating you, dragging you deeper into the endless darkness. You couldn’t see a way out, couldn’t imagine a future where you’d feel anything other than this crushing hopelessness. It was all-consuming, a void that devoured every thought, every breath.

Your apartment was cold and silent, the air thick with stillness, broken only by the shaky sound of your breathing. Desperate for something, anything to ground you, you reached for your phone and pressed play on the only song that had ever been able to reach you in moments like this.

The familiar melody of Under Pressure filled the room, echoing off the walls like a lifeline.

“Pressure, pushing down on me…”

You paced back and forth, the phone clutched tightly in your hand, tears streaming freely down your face. The lyrics sliced through you with every word, each note digging deeper into your already raw heart. This song had always made you feel lighter before, always brought a smile to your face when Bucky danced around the room, grabbing your hands and spinning you until you couldn’t help but laugh.

But tonight, it felt different.

You sank to your knees, your sobs growing louder as the music swelled, your chest heaving with the effort to keep breathing. You pressed the phone closer to your ear, as if Freddie Mercury and David Bowie’s voices could somehow pull you back from the edge.

The cold breeze from the balcony seeped through the glass door, brushing against your skin like a whisper. Your gaze drifted toward it, the sheer curtain fluttering softly in the wind.

For a moment, the thought crossed your mind.

It would be so easy.

But then, as if on instinct, you shook your head violently, your hands flying to your temples as if you could physically push the thought away.

No.

That can’t be it. You promised Bucky.

The broken promise hung over you like a specter as you stumbled to the bathroom, your legs shaky and unsteady beneath you. The light flickered when you flipped the switch, casting an eerie glow over the small space.

The broken mirror greeted you, jagged cracks splintering your reflection into a thousand fractured pieces. You stared at it, at the distorted, hollow version of yourself staring back. You didn’t recognize the person in the shards.

You opened the cabinet, your hands trembling as you reached for the bottle of antidepressants tucked away behind an old bottle of painkillers and a nearly empty tube of toothpaste. The bottle felt heavy in your palm, its weight somehow both grounding and terrifying.

You clutched it tightly, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you backed out of the bathroom and began pacing the apartment again.

The music continued to play, Freddie and Bowie’s voices swelling with the crescendo:

“Why can’t we give love, give love, give love…”

You couldn’t stop hearing Bucky’s voice, the way he’d always called you sweet girl, his tone soft and warm, like you were the most important thing in his world. You heard him as clearly as if he were standing beside you, his words from so long ago echoing in your mind:

“Promise me.”

Tears blurred your vision as you collapsed onto the couch, clutching the bottle in one hand and your phone in the other. The weight of the pills was unbearable, as if they were the physical manifestation of everything you couldn’t carry anymore.

Your thumb hovered over Bucky’s name in your call list.

You took a shaky breath, your hand trembling as you opened the pill bottle and poured a handful into your palm. The tiny capsules felt cold and smooth against your skin, the sharp contrast to the heat of your tears that dripped onto your hand. You swallowed.

Your other hand shook as you pressed Bucky’s name on your phone.

The line rang once. Twice. Each ring stretched out into eternity, the sound pounding against your chest like a heartbeat.

Finally, his voice came through, warm and familiar, but tinged with concern.

“Y/N?” he said, his tone rising slightly in alarm. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you pressed the phone to your ear like it was the only thing tethering you to the world.

You tried to speak, but the sobs came first, wracking your body as you held the phone to your ear. “Bucky,” you choked out finally, your voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said quickly, his tone steady but urgent.

You clutched the phone tighter “I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, the words breaking something inside you.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then his voice came through, strong and determined. “I’m coming over. Right now. Don’t move, okay? Just stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there in ten.”

This is ourselves

-------

Olivia was everything someone could ask for—funny, kind, and effortlessly charming. She told stories with vivid animation, her hands gesturing wildly as she laughed at her own jokes. But no matter how hard Bucky tried to focus, her words barely registered.

The dessert had arrived a few minutes ago, but he hadn’t touched it. His fork lay untouched on the table, his hands clasped in his lap as he forced himself to nod and smile at the right moments. He laughed when he thought he should, added a comment here or there, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Because something felt wrong.

It was a gnawing sensation, deep in his gut, an unease he couldn’t shake. He told himself it was nothing, that he was imagining it, but the weight of it pressed down on him like a stone.

His mind kept drifting back to you. The way you’d looked the last time he saw you—tired, withdrawn, a shell of the vibrant person he knew. The memory clawed at his chest, the guilt twisting tighter with every passing second.

Olivia said something, and he forced a smile, but he was already counting down the minutes until he could leave. He needed to check on you. He didn’t know why, but the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

Then his phone buzzed on the table.

He barely glanced at the screen before his heart stopped. It was you.

Without thinking, Bucky grabbed his phone so fast that he knocked over his drink, the ice and liquid spilling across the table in a chaotic splash. Olivia gasped, startled by the sudden movement, but he barely noticed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice rushed, already standing. “I have to take this.”

“Of course,” she said, her eyes wide with concern but understanding.

He didn’t bother stepping away. He answered immediately, pressing the phone to his ear. “Y/N?”

All he could hear was sobbing—raw, broken sobs that sent ice-cold fear coursing through his veins. Then there was the sound of your uneven breathing, as if you were struggling to get air.

“Y/N?” he said again, louder this time, panic tightening his throat. “Sweetheart, what’s going on?”

“Bucky…” Your voice was faint, choked with tears, barely audible over the sound of your crying.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, his voice trembling now.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered. His mind was racing, every nerve in his body screaming at him to do something, anything.

He fumbled with his phone, his hands shaking as he opened a text to Sam.

Bucky: Call 911. Send them to Y/N’s apartment. NOW.

Sam’s response came almost instantly:

Sam: What’s going on? On it.

“I kept your promise, Buck,” you said suddenly, your voice slurred and distant. “I’m gonna keep it, okay?”

Bucky was already out the door, his feet pounding against the pavement as he ran. “What promise, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice desperate as he weaved through the crowded New York streets. “Talk to me.”

“The one from high school…” Your voice was weaker now, fading. “Senior year.”

Bucky’s chest constricted. His mind flashed back to that night—the balcony, the wind whipping around you, the way he’d grabbed you and pulled you back with trembling hands. The memory hit him like a freight train, knocking the air from his lungs.

“You kept it,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so proud of you, angel. You hear me? I’m almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

“The pills, Bucky.... getting sleepy,” you murmured, your words dragging, barely coherent. “I’m sorry, Bucky. It’s better this way. For everyone. I just wanted to hear your voice one last time…”

“No,” he said sharply, tears streaming down his face as he sprinted through the crowded streets, dodging pedestrians and ignoring the blaring horns of cars. “No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t say goodbye. Stay awake. You gotta stay awake for me, okay? Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the silence on the other end was deafening.

“Sweetheart,” he said desperately, his voice cracking as his legs burned with the effort of running. “I love you. Please. I love you so much. Don’t leave me. Please. It’s all my fault—please, please.”

Finally, your voice came through, soft and faint, barely more than a whisper. “It’s not your fault… Never your… Love you.”

And then silence.

“No, no, no,” he said, his voice frantic, his chest heaving as he pushed himself to run faster. He kept the phone pressed to his ear, listening to the faint sounds of the emergency responders on the other end—the muffled voices, the banging on your door.

Of course now you lock it, he thought bitterly, tears blurring his vision.

When he reached your apartment building, the flashing lights of ambulances and police cars painted the street in harsh red and blue. A small crowd had gathered, their faces etched with curiosity and concern, but Bucky shoved his way through without hesitation, his lungs burning as he sprinted up the stairs two at a time.

“Move!” he shouted, his voice hoarse as he pushed past the officers at your door.

And then he saw you.

You were lying motionless on the floor, your face pale, your body lifeless as the paramedics worked over you. One of them was performing chest compressions, their hands pressing rhythmically into your chest, while another prepared an oxygen mask.

“NO!” Bucky screamed, his voice shattering as he stumbled forward, his knees threatening to give out beneath him.

One of the paramedics muttered, “Come on. Stay with us.”

Bucky’s world narrowed to the sight of you—your still form, the faint beeping of medical equipment, the paramedic’s steady rhythm. His knees buckled, and he grabbed the edge of the couch to steady himself, his vision swimming as the tears fell harder.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking, barely audible over the chaos. “Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I love you so much. Please.”

But you didn’t move.

Under Pressure

[kaiserthebiter3]

What would happen if you watch a horror movie with the l&ds men?

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus x reader (separately)

requests are open :)

Xavier

as xavier was bringing the snacks from the kitchen , you made yourself comfortable on the couch of the living room , tucking the blanket around yourself , to feel all cozy .

by the time xavier joined you with the bowl of marshmallows and chocolate bars , you pressed the 'play' button to start the movie.

the beginning of the movie was ok , a little nerve racking but nothing you can't handle , however , as it progressed , with the scary music , and the suspense , you're actually beginning to feel pretty scared .

you look at xavier to check up on him , he is unfazed , munching at his marshmallows with no care , of course a guy like him won't be scared because of this you thought .

you pay your attention back to the movie , and that's when the jump scare decided to pop up on screen , you gasp , holding onto xavier's arm tightly , like the zombie from the movie could come out of the screen somehow and get you .

Xavier looks down at you with a little surprise , he didn't expect you of all people to be scared of some character in a movie .

"don't look at me like that" you pout , still holding his arm for dear life , "baby you're actually scared?" he pauses the movie and brings all of his attention to you , you avoid his gaze a little embarrassed "I thought I wouldn't be scared.....but it seems like I am" .

xavier looked puzzled for a couple of moments , then smiled warmly "I didn't know a hunter like you , would get scared over some zombies" he cups your face caressing your cheeks slightly , "we can always do something else if you don't feel like finishing this movie" he says then proceeds to give your lips a light kiss .

"ummm....xavier..." you say red-cheeked , xavier raises an eyebrow "yes honey?" , "I feel like going to the bathroom but...." , he smiles knowing where this is going , "but?.." he looks at you with amusement , you play with your hands embarrassed to look at him in the eye "I'm scared..can you go with me?...to the bathroom?" , xavier chuckled lightly "are you sure you're not asking for something else?" he said with a teasing tone toying with you , removing the blanket from you with roughly "something dirty?" he said wrapping his arms around in intention to carry you , "what???xavier nooo that's not what I meant" , he chuckles as he carries you bridal style heading to the bathroom "I'm joking honey" you sigh in relief , he reaches the bathroom then shuts the door behind you two "or am I?".

Zayne

Zayne was certain you’d get scared, and although horror movies weren’t really his thing , seeing how much you wanted to watch one tonight , he decided to indulge you.

"here you go boyfriend" you said smiling , handing him out the remote, zayne looks at you confused "you want me to pick? " , you nod "yes I'd like to see what'd choose" you said settling beside him on the couch.

zayne browsed for abit then decided on a movie with a clown on its poster , and no way your luck was this bad , you absolutely get terrified of clowns , but since you wanted him to pick this time , you didn't protest .

as much as you wanted to pretend to be brave , your yelps and gasps betrayed you , you'd hide yourself under the blanket refusing to watch .

"Honey are you ok?" he says with concern in his voice , gently pulling the blanket away from your face to get a better look at you , "come here" he lifts you up and seat you on his lap , "zayne clowns are so f**king scary" you say in annoyance "watch your tongue love" he says scolding as always .

"zayne I'm scared here ? can you save the scolding for later?" you sigh and shake your head , he giggles a little at your annoyed expression , he found it adorable , "I'm sorry" he said , planting a kiss on your forehead , holding you closer to his chest "so ms hunter is scared of stupid clowns , huh?" he said in a teasing tone , "in my defense , they are weird creatures" you frown at the thought of them .

"they're humans just like us honey" , "not to me" you roll your eyes , "how about we forget all about this movie , hmmm?" he suggests , nuzzling his head against your neck , planting soft kisses "I'll make you forget about these clowns" he bites down "and your name too".

Rafayel

Rafayel had told you earlier in the day he was taking you to the cinema. You were thrilled, imagining maybe a thriller or some drama… until you arrived and saw the title: Haunting Shadows. A horror film.

You glance at him, brows raised in disbelief. "A horror movie? Really?" a faint smile plays at the corner of his lips, his gaze steady and unbothered. “Is that a problem?”

You don’t want to seem weak in front of him, so you shake your head quickly. “No, no! I’ll be fine.”

As the movie begins, it doesn’t take long for you to get overwhelmed by the haunting scenes and music , and you can feel yourself curling up tighter and tighter in your seat.

After one particularly terrifying scene, Rafayel leans over, his voice calm but carrying an amusement tone “If you’re scared, there’s no harm in saying so.”

surprisingly , you surrender pretty fast , "I...am" you said voice barely audible as you hated to admit defeat.

without hesitation, rafayel leans in closer. “Come here,” he murmurs. Before you can even argue, he gently takes your hand and tugs you toward him, patting on his lap.

“Rafayel, there are people here,” you whisper, glancing around nervously.

“Then sit quietly,” he replies smoothly, not a hint of hesitation in his tone.

Sighing in defeat, you settle onto his lap, and instantly feel his arms wrapping around you. His warmth seeps into you, and somehow, even with all the horror happening on the screen, his presence makes you feel far less scared , and protected.

After a few moments of silence, he leans down, his breath tickling your ear. “Next time, we're at the cinema I'll pick even a scarier movie , if it means I'll get you holding onto me adorably like this” he murmurs, voice soft and teasing .

You glance up at him frowning "you wishh , it's embarrassing to be in such position in public"

A soft laugh escapes him, and he presses a quick kiss to your temple. “not to me” he whispers .

Sylus

you were browsing through sylus’s movie collection , he had so many DVDs , so you made it a habit that every friday , you pick a movie and you'll watch it together.

this friday you picked horror movie , this was out of the ordinary for you , you always pick a romance movie and you force sylus to watch.

"are you sure?" sylus teased as he was setting up the movie for you , "you won't get scared?".

you crossed your arms , scoffing "why would you assume I'd get scared ? sylus I fight wanderers for a living , a horror movie is nothing" you said with a cocky tone.

he chuckled at you then nodded "alright then tough hunter".

he seated you on his lap as he always does , then wrapped the blanket around you , making you feel warm and comfortable.

the movie started out innocently enough , but by the time the creepy sounds and the jump scares kicked in , you found yourself clutching the blanket tighter.

sylus noticed but didn't comment on it , only then , a particular scene unfold , and a ghost jumped out on the screen , you yelped softly , hiding yourself into sylus’s neck .

"Oh?" he said with a raised eyebrow , amused as he wrapped his arms around you "is that you getting scared?".

you looked up at him , not knowing how to find an excuse to defend yourself , so you look around and you find poor mephisto minding his own business , "damn you mephisto" you said pretending to be mad at the bird , "sylus" you look at him with pleading eyes "your evil crow startled me" you said with a pout on your lips.

he chuckled at your silly move , "ohh so mephisto is the reason to your cute jump just now?" he replies playing along with your excuse , his hand resting on your waist , stroking it slightly , "Exactly" you said that pout is still on your face , "well then , I guess I have to kick mephisto out of the living room now" he said pulling you closer to him by your waist , "can't have him distracting us from watching this movie" he teased , motioning to mephisto to leave you alone.

Seeing that you have no other excuse to pull if you get jump scared again , "sylusss I don't think I like this movie" , you pretended to be bored , sylus chuckles "you want us to stop watching you say?" , "it's up to you sweetie" he said with low tone , his hand going a little too low "we can always do something else" he winks .

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | steve x reader ; eddie x reader

summary: when your boyfriend dies as a result from saving you and your friends, you find yourself deep in the throes of grief. and in your lowest moment you find a new vice, something… or rather someone unexpected.

6.1k, reader is named “nellie” simply bc i refuse to use y/n, smut, 18+ only, multiple chapters, future drug use, mature themes, heavy depictions of grief/suffering leading to questionable decisions

big s/o & thanks to @rebelfell + @rxqueenotd for spit ballin’ ideas and beta’ing ❤️‍🩹

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

His body laid for three days before Owen’s team braved that cold and eerie pit of desolate hell. Strong hands had pulled you away from his body, and you had tried to claw your way back to him, begging for death to take you instead. 

That night you watched him choke on his last breath, his lungs gurgling with a squelching pop of blood as hesmiled one last, and final time, his last words played over and over again. 

“I’m so lucky to have been loved by you.”

His skin was still warm when the others found you clutching onto him, laying beside him as if you were cuddling during another time. A time when monsters didn’t exist and all you had was happiness. Legs thrown over one another as you watched a movie in the Wheeler’s basement, or when your wet hair seeped into his skin after a late night of swimming at Lover’s Lake, or the feel of his fingers tucked into the nape of your neck while you kissed him at your lockers back in high school. 

Never. You’d never feel that from him again. 

Large arms wrapped around your middle hauling you away. And you scrambled, kicked and slapped to get back to him. Screaming his name over and over. Because they weren’t his hands, and they would never hold you again, he was dead, Steve was dead. 

The hours after were a blur, somehow the rest of you had managed to get away. Eddie jump started an abandoned military vehicle that a rescue team had left while under attack, driving back to the gate that reopened under the ruins of StarCourt. 

Your head laid in Robin’s lap the entire ride back while Eddie drove, silent tears falling down everyone’s cheeks, Dustin sobbing into Nancy’s bony shoulder. 

You all stayed together those first few nights, laying in a fortress of blankets and couch pillows in your living room. It all seemed to move in slow motion, a terrible aching dread filled your soul and refused to leave the hole in your heart. 

The house you and Steve had rented was large enough to accommodate everyone for a few days. Those days were spent telling favorite stories of him. Talking about the pride he had for everyone, the mother hen of the group. How he would lay down and sacrifice himself for everyone he knew and he did just that.

A solemn silence fell over everyone, after a kick to the chest of reality fell like a veil—that he would never again come walking in the door. That Robin lost her best friend and confidant. That you would mourn your boyfriend, lover, and friend until your dying days. That Dustin lost his first male father figure. It all came crashing down at once, and no one spoke much after that besides the occasional sniffle or to open the back door to chain smoke the anxiety away. 

Claudia eventually called to have Dustin come home. Jonathan stopped over with his long haired friend from California, and you were anything but friendly to them. How could you be? You watched in jealous rage as Jonathan pressed kisses to Nancy’s cheek and rubbed her back soothingly. 

She lost a friend. You had lost the only person who knew you from the inside and out, and it wasn’t fair. 

Everyone trickled out of the home you shared with Steve. One by one, silently not wanting to be the last to leave, to have to watch your eyes wet as you were left to your own vices, left in this empty house that held all of your memories.

You couldn’t blame them. Hell was here and you were swallowed by its warmth, the flames licking your neck as you fell deeper into it, succumbing to the heat.

Eddie was the last to go. He was oddly quiet during the last few days, leaving late after everyone had fallen asleep just to return again in the morning. He had asked to use the phone only once, quietly excusing himself to use the bathroom afterwards, coming back to the living room looking even more lost than he had earlier, his eyes wet with fresh tears. 

It was almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should be here or not. He didn’t know Steve as long as everyone else did, but over the last year they’d gotten close, as if they were almost family more than they were friends. 

You had come to know and accept Eddie and Chrissy well, over the last year you’d spent a few nights every couple of months double dating at Enzo’s or game nights playing Scrabble at your house. When the world flipped upside down again, all of the fun came to an end, and the last nine months or more had been spent strategizing… trying to find a means to end this real life hell once and for all. 

And it did end, but at what cost?

Eddie’s shadow lingered by the front door as you walked over, one of Steve’s button down shirts hanging loose on your shoulders, the sleeves damp with your tears. 

His dark eyes swam with something you hadn’t recognized at all the past week, it wasn’t fear like it had been when you were miles below in another dimension. But you couldn’t nail down what he was feeling as he asked, “are you gonna be okay?” 

You stared at him, raising an eyebrow with an exhaustive look. 

His fingers worked the rings on his left hand. “I mean, tonight… are you alright, alone? I can stay if you...” He paused for a while, his tongue pressed into his cheek as he stared at the blue rug, his boots pinching his aching feet. Raising his eyes to yours once more, “I— I know how it feels when someone you love dies, it’s…hard.” 

Tears welled for what felt like the hundredth time in twenty four hours, and you shook your head. You dreaded this night when things should return to normal, when your friends had to return to school, their jobs. Things had to go back to the way they were— but you couldn’t. Not now, Maybe not ever. 

You remember how Eddie had missed school for weeks years ago back in elementary. But you weren’t friends then so you never knew, and you felt like a bitch for never asking. “I’m sorry, I— I didn’t—.” 

He turned his face away, smiling and finding interest in the wood grain of the front door, “it was a long time ago, I’ve had time to heal, but it takes awhile.” 

All you had was time. Time without Steve. Time to mourn the loss of the only man you’ve ever loved. Silent streaks slid down the apples of your cheeks, and Eddie stepped forward like he might crush you into a hug, but he stopped short. Instead rubbing his hand lightly down your arm, “I left my number on the counter, call anytime. Okay?” 

You blinked back at him and nodded. If you wouldn’t have been crying you could have seen the turmoil stir in the caffeinated browns of his. 

“Thanks, Eddie… I might just take you up on that.” 

He smiled gravely, “I did— I didn’t know Steve for as long as everyone else did… but he was a really good friend to me.” 

You looked up at him, eyes welling with tears at the man all of Hawkins marked to be a Satanic Cult Leader.

“He cared about you and Chrissy a lot, Eddie.” 

He smiled sadly and turned away before you could catch him wiping his eyes, or notice the wobble of his bottom lip. 

“I know, I did too…take care, Nellie.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Steve’s cologne was still on the bathroom sink. Dried toothpaste was stuck between the bristles of his toothbrush left from his rush to leave that morning— the last one he’d ever have. 

His bar of soap in the shower still held dry bubbles from lathered skin the last night you’d spent together. You had shared the warmth of a shower, shampooing his hair and Steve attempting to help shave your legs, giggling between the spray of the water. Later he laid you down making you whimper as he kissed your neck, fucking you slow and deep, whispering in your ear how you were his entire world. 

You hadn’t slept in your shared bed since his death, and now that the chaos had dissipated, and the house was quiet outside of the usual clicks and hums from the refrigerator, you braved the lonely queen sized bed and slipped between the cool sheets. 

The sweet burn of cedar, clove and a tangy bit of citrus surrounded you. Steve’s aroma, his smell held you like a child as you cried into his pillow. Curling your body into his side of the bed, you imagined his large hands splayed across your belly as he held you close to him, pulling you tightly against him so there wasn’t a single inch of him not touching you.

But in the end it was just you alone, trying to find warmth in cold sheets with a wet pillow. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The alarm clock had scared the shit out of you.

The ringing turned to chimes in your dream, and when you woke— alone, it was in a puddle of sweat, the bed sheets wrapped around you like those horrible black vines had. 

The kitchen tile was cold on your bare toes as you padded to the coffee maker. Steve considered himself the best barista in Hawkins, and no matter how hard you tried to replicate it your pot of coffee never stood a chance next to his. 

Digging into the Folgers can, you dump two heaping dollops of grounds into the filter, pressing the ‘on’ button, mentally preparing for the worst cup of coffee you’d had since before you had started dating Steve. No hope to be found, optimism long gone. 

It took only a moment, a single sleep riddled half thought for you to slip up, your mind forgetting for just a second as you accidentally wondered what you and Steve would do for the weekend. 

Your nerves went into shock, you gasped in guilted embarrassment at the audacity to forget that. How? How how how how how! Pulling at your hair you scanned the kitchen table, eyeing Eddie’s number written on a pad of paper, but grabbing the phone you dialed a different one instead. 

She answered on the second ring, her voice sleepy and haggard as you whispered through choked tears, “h—he’s gone.” 

“Yeah,” Robin answered, sheets shuffling around, “he’s gone.” 

Tears fell in large drops down your face, as you nodded at the answer you already knew, silently needing the confirmation. 

How would you be able to walk the streets alone without Steve’s big hand crimped tight around yours? How could you live without ever hearing his voice, his laugh ever again?

When you hung up, Robin didn’t call back, and even if she had you wouldn’t have picked up. The day brought visitors trying to cheer you up. Rubbing your back as you stared blankly at the wall. Promising you things would get better, would be easier as time went on. Bullshit. All of it. 

As sweet as they were, how the hell would they know? How could they possibly hurt as bad as you did?

They had lost a friend, an older brother figure, but they didn’t know Steve on the intimate levels you did. They had no idea that he woke with terrors almost every night. Or that he had failed his driver’s test twice, or that he had a patch of light freckles on his nether region. 

Steve had been everything to you and now that he was gone you didn’t know how to cope in a world without him. If whatever higher power could grant Chrissy new life, and Eddie was spared from the bats, why wasn’t Steve? 

Your questions went unanswered as your mind reeled with pictures of him, flicking like a movie, your eyes stinging with anger. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Every night since he had died, you had slept in a pair of Steve’s boxers and a Hawkins High Prom 1984 shirt. 

From what you could tell, Robin was in the same shape you were in, unable to go back to work, barely sleeping. The only difference was she had Vickie at home to comfort her, hold her and wipe away her cries. 

You couldn’t help but feel nothing but jealous and sick to your stomach at the thought of how you were having to go through this alone. No matter how selfish that made you, you simply couldn’t care. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Nancy woke you the morning before the funeral with a sharp knock on the front door, and an armful of baked goods. She made coffee as you stared a hole into the kitchen floor, she vacuumed as you thumbed through Steve’s wallet, silently tearing up over his driver’s license picture. 

She folded laundry while you sobbed and screamed at a very surprised Keith when he called to ask why Steve hadn’t shown up for his shift. Nancy didn’t blink when the phone was pulled from the wall and sent flying across the living room as you pulled your hair in a fit because Steve is gone. Dead. Not coming back.

Nancy simply rubbed your back, pushing away hair from your wet cheeks after you fell asleep with your head in her lap. And when you woke, feeling worse than hungover with swollen eyes and a sore throat— she wouldn’t let you apologize. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Surprisingly, Steve’s parents found it in themselves to pretend they gave a shit long enough to plan his funeral. 

Everything was gaudy. Overdone and full of rich smells of roses so strong you wanted to vomit. 

Pearls clung to your ears and neck. The velvet of your black dress was warm on your body despite the cold gusts of wind that chapped your stocking clad legs. The sun wouldn’t shine today, or in your mind ever again. 

Robin showed up first, clinging to Vickie’s arm, a sad smile on her freckled face. She wore a dress, a sort of last laugh for Steve’s sake to see her dressed up. She throws herself at you, all legs and tear stained cheeks, squeezing your face into her shoulder.

“He would have hated this,” she sniffled after glancing around at The Harrington’s entourage, “look at her wiping her eyes as if she’d even talked to Steve within the last year.”

Steve’s mother stood in all of her Chanel No 9 glory, delicately dabbing a silk hanky to her dry eyes, as funeral goers grasped her manicured hand and spilled condolences. 

The sight alone made you sick. Mary could win an Oscar for her performance. Nobody but you and Robin would have any idea that Steve hadn’t spoken to his parents in over a year. Christmas to be exact. The first and last one you two had spent at their enormous home. 

What should have been a nice evening ended in harsh words and Steve’s father saying he was disowning him. Steve held his head high on the way home, apologizing for his parents and promising that he would never have anything to do with them again. 

And from there up until they were told of their only son’s death— The Harrington’s never once tried to make amends. 

“Always a show with her,” you sighed angrily. 

“How are you doing? Vickie asks shyly, “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m fine, really. I—I’m okay, slowly but surely.” 

Vickie smiles and squeezes your hand, “He never loved someone as much as he loved you, Nel.” 

The words hit like a bullet. 

You knew.

Of course you had known. Steve told you that himself on more occasions than you could count, you didn’t need to hear it from someone else, didn’t need the reassurance that a man who literally died to protect you really did love you. 

It felt foreign—sounding horribly wrong coming out of a mouth that wasn’t his. Body on fire with something worse than rage, all you wanted to do was scream. Nodding your head once you excuse yourself, pushing out of the side exit and down some cement steps to the outside.

Air. You needed to force air into your lungs before you collapsed. Your chest felt as if it was going to burst into flames, suddenly everything felt so restricting. The air was frozen and bitter, resembling yourself lately and the outcome of the last few days. 

Gasping, choking on wailing cries you pulled at the neck of your dress, kicking your shoes into the dead grass. You yanked barrettes from your hair and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes until you saw spots of gold and green. Anything to try to get some relief try to stop the sensation of being suffocated by something you couldn’t even see. 

“Nellie?” 

Tears poured from your face as you whimpered, struggling with the zipper on the back of your dress. 

It wasn’t fair. Why him? Why Steve? He was so good. Much better than you. He was kind and handsome, he loved big and treated everyone around him like they were the most important person in the room. 

He was the best friend, best boyfriend, best everything.

It should have been you.

A pair of warm hands land on your shoulders pulling you backwards and upright, frightening you before the warm tobacco spiced voice whispers in your ear.

“Breathe, Nel… c’mon sweetheart.” 

“I- c—can’t… Eddie…I—” coughing and clawing at the necklace of pearls, you desperately tried to unhook them, their weight feeling like boulders sitting on your chest, threatening to break you to pieces.

Eddie moved the hair from your neck, and in one little clink the necklace fell into your hands. 

“It’s off, it’s off— c’mon now, you gotta take a deep breath for me.” He spun you around placing his warm hands on your cheeks, sweeping away the icy tears. 

He was dressed in all black, his leather jacket tight on his arms. A frumpy, wrinkled tie loose around his neck looking like it had been tied and re-tied too many times before he just gave up. 

“In and out,” he instructed softly, taking your hand and placing it against his chest, “match it to mine. Feel it?”

It didn’t work, it wasn't helping. Eddie didn’t waste time before the cold leather of his arms wrap around you, delicately rubbing your back as you collapsed into him. 

The wind bit at his face as he held you close, stroking your hair. “It’s alright, ‘s gonna be okay, I’m here— we all are.” 

You let yourself break, let the sadness consume you before the funeral could start and you had to be brave for everyone. You wouldn’t let his parents see you this way, they already thought you were every bit of trash but Steve had always held you higher, placing you on a special little pedestal. And with him, nothing else mattered. 

Wiping your eyes, you pull back enough to see Eddie’s face, the dark sunglasses he wore were fogged up on the inside, shielding away his own turmoil, but his lip quivered slightly. 

“God, Eddie,“ you sniffed, voice wobbly as you murmur, “Sorry.. ‘m such a mess.” 

“Don’t do that,” he almost whispers, voice low and sensual, “don’t apologize.” 

If you could see his eyes you would notice how sad they were, how he was doing his very best to hold it together. How he had bags under his eyes from not sleeping. You’d see the guilt etched into the darks of his irises for being alive, for coming out of there alive.

The door swings open with a loud crack, caught in a gust of blustering wind, Dustin standing on the threshold trying to hold onto the handle for dear life, he winces when he sees the two of you. 

“Hey, it’s—” he looks at his watch, “they’re ready to start.” 

Eddie removes his hands from your arms and shoves them into his pockets, all the warmth leaving you as the wind creeps through the fabric of your dress.

“Be right there man,” Eddie answers tight lipped, trying to convey to Dustin that you needed a minute to collect yourself, “save me a seat.” 

When the door shuts with great force on Dustin��s end, he bends down to scoop up your discarded heels, holding them by the backs. He sets them on the ground between the two of you, gathering your arm in his hand as you steadied yourself with his body to balance while you slipped your feet in. 

Taking one last ragged breath, Eddie moves beside you looking up at the church, then back at you.

“I don’t think I can say goodbye.” 

Eddie swallows hard, reaching out with a cautious hand but deciding at the last minute to shove it into his pocket, “you don’t have to, y'know? My m— well, I heard once that a person’s spirit can live on as long as you need them.” 

“D’ do you believe in that kind of stuff?” you ask solemnly, “The afterlife? Reincarnation?” 

“I believe that Steve would want all of us to keep going, to be the best versions of ourselves…. and he would probably scold us for being late to his funeral.” 

You smile then, wrapping your hands around your arms rubbing warmth into them. “He definitely would, I can almost hear him fussing.”  

“Hands on his hips, no doubt,” Eddie said with a grin, “But he’d pull himself together…be strong for everyone, he was always good at doing that.”

You look at him, completely unaware of his own inner struggles. “That was Steve, always brave, always willing to defend someone.”

The door busts open again, this time it’s Hopper, his bristly mustache matching his thick eyebrows as he stares with annoyance at your tardiness. 

“Shit,” Eddie jokes, “better go before he calls the hounds.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It was a closed casket per your request, even though his mother argued to have it open. Wanting the sympathy from her friends of being a parent “burying-their-child” and to have people comment on how he looked like her, how beautiful they both were— it was sick. 

Dustin made a speech. His hair pushed back just how Steve had taught him back in high school. He shed a tear at the end when he referred to Steve as his best friend. Climbing down from the podium, he slumped in the pew next to Eddie, sniffling softly as his shoulders shook. 

Robin recited a light hearted poem, promising to keep the store running and to finally get her driver’s license. Her eyes sparkled as she recounted the laughs she and Steve had shared. 

When it was your turn, your heart felt like it was filled with lead, the walk up the ugly church carpet felt as if it drug on forever, and you had to take several deep breaths before adjusting the mic. 

Your poorly written speech talked about how Steve lit up every room, how he was adored by everyone at Hawkins High. But now, under the scathing florescent lights under the wet eyes of your closest friends, the jumbled words looked like nothing but bullshit. 

Tears rimmed your eyes and you felt the same death grip of panic rising on your throat. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, body shaking as you fumbled with the index cards, “I- I can’t.” 

It was Joyce who met you at the podium with a caring smile, and open arms guiding you back to the pew. She didn’t mind that you sobbed into her shoulder making a mess of her cotton dress. And when the service was over and it was time to go to the cemetery, she held your hand and led the way.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You felt numb as you stood next to Robin. Her icy fingers laced with yours as you zoned out completely while standing at his gravesite. Someone was talking but you couldn’t register who it was or what they were saying. 

Your body was present but your mind was floating in a memory. 

“Should we have spaghetti tonight? Or do you wanna order a pizza and I’ll pick it up after I leave work?” 

Steve’s comforting voice filled your ear as you twirled your finger around the cord in the stockroom at Melvald’s. A common occurrence for the two of you, each sneaking off to call each other during the day. Eight hours away from him was too much. 

“Already got the noodles boiling for spaghetti, honey,” he practically purred into the phone, “tell Joyce you’re taking off for the night and come home to me.” 

Your smile squeaked through the receiver, your heart skipped beats at the thought of Steve Harrington wanting you… two years together it still seemed like yesterday that you had gone on your first date.

“Steve,” you giggled, “You didn’t have to.”

“Ah ah ah, I won’t listen to that,” Steve lightly scolded, “I like to cook and take care of my girl, we’re a team, Nellie.” 

You begrudgingly sigh and feel heat rise to your cheeks, you really were one of the luckiest girls. “Okay Captain, what kind of noodles are you making?” 

Steve chuckles through the receiver, cream colored phone balancing on his shoulder as he adds salt to the boiling water. 

“It was a toss up between angel hair or fettuccine… fettuccine won, and I picked up some garlic bread from Enzo’s.” 

“Ohh, you’re spoiling me rotten,” you purr, imagining what you would do to thank him…something involving your favorite part of him and your mouth, “I’ll stop at Bradley’s for some drinks, what are ya thinkin’?”

Steve smiles, putting a dish towel on his shoulder, “surprise me.” 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The church basement reeked of furniture polish, clashing with heavy floral perfume to mask the smell of mildew from a previous heavy rainfall. 

The Women of Fellowship were serving ham on wheat buns with chips and a veggie tray. Their faces planted with a christian sympathy smile as they cut brownies and refilled the punch bowl.  

A bottle of champagne sat chilled in a bath of ice per Mrs. Harrington’s demands. No reason to be so down all day, might as well make it a special occasion! As if the death of her only son wasn’t enough, was too boring for her. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved your plate away as her obnoxious laugh erupts from behind you. Steve’s father telling his colleagues a dirty joke no doubt, his face red from stifling a laugh and the whiskey he clutched in a monogrammed flask. 

“Nellie?” Nancy chirped, adjusting her slim figure to whisper gently across the table your group of friends were sulking at,  “I have some frozen meals my mom and I put together, I can come over tonight and give you the instructions if you’d like?”

Nodding softly you meet her eyes, “Thanks Nance, that’d be really nice.” 

It went silent again, Max fidgeted with her hair, pulling it back in a loose ponytail. Will’s watch beeped but he clicked it off lazily, running his hands down his face. Nobody knew what to say or what to do. What do you say at a friend's funeral? 

“Are they always like this?” Eddie blurts through the quiet, cocking his head towards the Harrington’s. He was leaning back in his chair, one arm slung over the back of an empty chair beside him, his sunglasses were still on, just as they were through the church service and at the gravesite. 

Everyone at the table looks to you, expecting some sort of an explanation, but you simply shrug, “I- I don’t really know them very well.” 

“Steve’s parents?” Nancy questions, “they’re super sweet, when I—”

She stops then her mouth closing with a pop to remember that it probably wasn’t the time to talk about her long ago relationship with Steve at his funeral in front of his current girlfriend. 

“… they uhhh.. they were always nice.” 

It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know. Mostly because you and Steve had never mentioned it to anyone besides Robin. But her words stung, hit your chest like a thousand mad bees. 

You stand on shaky legs, “I need—yeah…” Without giving anything more you walk away, almost taking the table cloth with you from it tangling in your purse. 

“Nellie,” Robin tries, her own eyes swimming with hurt, but you’re already two tables away, squeezing between padded shoulders and hands holding plastic cups of punch, bleary eyed to find anywhere to be but here.

Turns out a broom closet storing Christmas decorations stuffed right with the plastic light-up yard Bethlehem set, was the right place to have a breakdown. 

You were hiding for a solid ten minutes before you heard a soft knock and a quiet ‘Nell?’ And your unladylike sniffling gave you away as you wiped your nose on the blanket swaddling baby Jesus. 

“Rob,” you exhaled annoyingly, “I’m fine, okay? Tell Nance I’m sorry.” But to your surprise it was Eddie.

“Hey.” he says cautiously, clicking the door behind him and leaning against it. 

You looked from him to your shoes and muttered out a soft, “hi.”

“So… Mr. and Mrs. Harrington seem like real big pieces of shit… wow.”

You snort airily fiddling with the run in your stocking, “Yeah, they’re something alright.” 

Eddie slides down the door, sitting with his legs crossed in front of him, exhaling a deep breath,“It’s been a long day,” he finally said.

“I don’t know what to do next.” 

Eddie looks at you confused, and eyes you when you stand abruptly and start pacing around the cramped closet. 

You’re erratic, talking fast and crazed, “I told myself that all I needed to do was just make it to the funeral. Make it through the funeral and…and then I would figure it all out from there! Now here we are— and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do after, Eddie!

“After it’s over? And– when I leave… he’ll still be here in the ground, and I— ” you start to apologize but refrain, “.. I should go.” 

“Talk to me,” Eddie stands to his full height, reaching towards you, just barely grazing your elbow with his fingertips. His voice nearly breaking, “it helps to get it out.” 

You hiccup, and pull away, stumbling over a slew of strung together sentences that you’re barely breathing through to get out. 

 “..’s… shit, he was all I had. My parents are gone, I don’t have any siblings. It’s been… d’ you know that his parents have never approved of me, but Steve he— he fought for me, for us. Without him…I’m alone.” 

Eddie follows you his hands firm your biceps to try to calm you down. “All your friends are here. Robin, Vickie, the kids…” 

His words have no meaning to you, none of it mattered, your pain was demanding to be felt, and frilly words with no merit wouldn’t sugar coat this. “He’s gone, Eddie! He didn’t get to have a second chance he—died!”

He’s level headed but slowly losing his own battle, trying not to break thinking about his luck and the never ending guilt he carried. 

“We were all there, all of us are hurting, Nellie. You can’t shut people out and clam up.” 

You try to wriggle free from him, but he’s stronger, and all you can do is cry, “I— can’t keep going! Not without him!” 

Feeling the weight of survivor's guilt and the agony of never being able to be consoled by Steve again, you break. Sobbing uncontrollably. Eddie’s arms surround you, holding you tight and engulfing your cries with his own tears, and little shushes from his throat. 

“I’m sorry, Nellie. I’m so fucking sorry. Please don’t cry— it will take time but you.. we will be okay.” 

His voice is wobbly and his chest shakes as he cries silently grieving for his best friend. With tears running down your cheeks you pull away slightly to see his face. 

In the dim light you can make out that his nose is tinged red, and with unsteady hands you reach up and pry his sunglasses from his face.

His eyes were red, a little swollen from rubbing them and fatigued with lack of sleep. You could kick yourself for not recognizing how hurt he was, how self absorbed you had been. Both of you are crying together, clinging onto each other under the yellow light in that makeshift storage closet. 

Throwing yourself at him, your cheek presses into his chest as you both sob into one another. Meshing your suffering with his. 

His chin is resting on your head, hands wrapped in your hair. Your hands are clutching the opening of his shirt, fingers just barely grazing over his bare chest. Minutes passed and you exhale an exhausted sigh. 

Lifting your face up to tell Eddie that maybe you should get back, your nose brushes against his. And when you both should be moving away, straightening yourself up and wiping your eyes, neither of you pull back. 

Eddie’s breath fans against your cheek, a small shudder on your skin, the emotional hold of the day, his arms wrapped around you it was nice… it felt, good. Without thinking, without acknowledging what you’re doing you tilt your head and line your mouth up with his, pressing your lips to his. 

It’s unexpectedly tender, and what should startle him doesn’t, but all of that sweetness is quickly swallowed by a hunger you had never felt before. 

It’s nothing but grabby hands and needy mouths. His hands go from soft and consoling to roughly working his pants down in the same hastiness- that you’re hauling your dress up.

Eddie grabs you from the crook of your knees as if you’re weightless and shoves you up hard against the wall. Your mouth hangs open in a silent plea as your panties get ripped to the side. Tears are still flowing down your face and if you were to look at him, you’d see that his haven't stopped either. 

It’s desperate the way you’re clutching onto his shoulders. As if every ounce of pain was leaving you with every inch of him. You whimper with each pump of his hips and Eddie is doing the same, holding you impossibly tight, grunting into your ear. 

It’s raw and harsh, the shelves shuddering with the pace of him taking you, and you’re all in, moaning when you’re close. Holding the nape of his neck and wringing his curls as you start to unravel, your nails clawing into him as your mind explodes. 

When you finish, he’s close behind, groaning deep and biting his lip as he shakes violently with his release, pumping all he’s got into you. 

What’s left between you is gasping breaths and tear kissed skin, a set of broken Christmas lights under Eddie’s boot. 

His jacket is still in your clutches when you open your eyes, coming down from a high you clung to stay up on. But the weight of your decision comes crashing down when you realize what you had done.

Regret is painted thick on your face as the realization comes full force. You need to get out of here. What kind of grieving girlfriend were you to have fucked your dead boyfriend’s best friend in a church basement at his funeral. 

A whore is what you are. 

Eddie must have realized what kind of slut you were too because he sets you down and immediately turns away from you, shoving himself back into his pants. 

But, before he can say anything, before he can try to talk you off a cliff— you’re already out of the door, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, hiding the horrifying expression twisted onto your face. 

You don’t hear Eddie calling after you, or the way his face turned to fear as you threw open the door, practically sprinting away from him. 

Lucky for you, nobody questioned why you were darting up the basement steps, or why you looked absolutely wrecked. Your keys fumbled in your hands as you unlocked your car, terrified to look back, running from your mistake, from Steve from Eddie.

The road was a dangerous blur on your drive home, your eyes flooding over obscuring stop signs and headlights. Your cheeks were still stained with yours and Eddie’s tears. 

Tears that were shed in grief from the death of your boyfriend, the same ones that stayed on your face as you got fucked in a closet by his best friend. And more tears fell as you tried to comprehend why for the first time since Steve’s death, you felt comfort.

—

[halarealmadridd]

your touch

pairing. jude bellingham x reader genre. angst to fluff warnings. fighting, cursing request. Hii i love ur work, can you write something about jude and you getting into a really really big argument, it's about him letting other fans/or girls kiss his cheek or something for a photo and him doing nothing about it, And so you two dont talk for 2-3 days, and you guys live in the same house, he didnt even try to apologise and he thinks hes right, But after a week or smth he noticed he missed your touch and other things so he apologized by writing a big big letter for when you wake up, since he has practice early in the morning and you still sleep author’s note. this request is so good! thank you sm lovely i hope you enjoy 🩵

you had no problem with jude giving out hugs, handshakes or something along the lines of those, but kissing is where you drew the line. you couldn’t stand someone else kissing your man, and him doing nothing about it. unfortunately, that was the reality you had to face today.

chilling in your bed, you scrolled through tiktok, until you found a video with a fan kissing jude’s cheek for a picture. the worst thing happened when you checked the comments. they were full of people saying that they shared the same experience, jude kissing their cheek. you were already fuming, but the attitude of those girls was your last straw.

storming out of the room, you were met with a confused boyfriend stating at you with adorable puppy eyes. they almost make you give in, but you refused.

“jude, what the fuck is this” you angrily exclaimed, while shoving the phone in his face to make sure he sees the video.

“that’s just what they asked for, no feelings involved” jude explained, gobbling down a tube of cookie dough ice cream.

“no feelings involved? do you think i give a fuck about that? you let astral stranger kiss you?” you roared, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“baby calm down, this is nothing serious”

“nothing serious? we have talked about this earlier, i said i don’t want anyone kissing you in any form” you shouted, tears brimming your eyes.

the audacity jude had to just laugh at you and continue eating the ice cream made you furious.

you rushed to the bedroom, covering yourself in blankets, curling into a ball, sobbing your heart out. you thought that when jude heard you cry, he would come looking for you, but no, he stayed there, sitting on the couch, eating the last piece of his ice cream.

you ended up crying yourself to sleep. the next morning you woke up to an empty cold bed. you figured jude was sleeping on the couch.

the next few days went over with neither of you speaking to each other, because apparently in jude’s mind, he was in the right. jude could be a silly person sometimes, but this was just a whole different level of silliness that he had never shown yet.

finally jude came back to his senses and decided to write a full A4 page letter, apologising for his actions. he also placed a bouquet of flowers and candies beside it, in hopes to cheer you up. eventually he left for training, leaving you in the house alone.

when you woke up, you made a bee-line towards the kitchen to make breakfast, but instead of thinking about breakfast, big letter caught your eye.

tears rolled down your face while reading the letter due to the sincerity of it. you wiped your tears and waited for jude to come home.

after a good wait, you heard the familiar sound of the door unlocking. you raced to the door, and jumped into jude’s arms. his face had a tint of confusion painted on it, but it later turned into a big grin.

“whoa, i missed you too” jude whispered into your hair, letting you down.

you placed a kiss onto jude’s lips, and guided him to the kitchen, where you had prepared some pancakes for him.

after gobbling down the pancakes, you and jude popped down onto the couch and started watching your favourite show. however, the show was long forgotten, as you guys ended up just cuddling each other to sleep.

[minimomoe]

Believe Me

another song association. this time No One Noticed by The Marias

Toji stood on your front porch with heavy steps. From the looks of it, the house was completely quiet with all the windows devoid of light. It should be, given that it was 1 in the morning. He winced when he checked the time on his phone. You were going chew him out for this. You had every right to. He promised to come home earlier, even went as far as telling you to get all dolled up so that he could take you out and your eyes glittered at the instructions. There was no way you wouldn't be pissed off by his change of plans.

Toji fitted his copy of the key that you gave him into the locks quietly turned the handles. He toed off his shoes and silently padded through the house in search of you. What he didn't expect was for you to be sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around your body, scrolling through your phone with disdain.

"Fucking hell," he started. You had startled the large man. Not enough to make him jump out of his skin but he was sure you'd be sleeping by now. You were usually knocked out once the clock hit 10pm.

"Look who finally decided to show up," you muttered. You didn't even spare him a glance. Swipe, swipe, swipe is all you did with your fingers. Toji carefully treaded to where you sat at. His feet touched something on the ground, and when his eyes adjusted he the black heels that he loved to see decorating your feet on the floor. You were going to wear them out tonight.

"Is your phone broken?"

Toji should answer carefully. If he lied it wouldn't help him, but if he told the truth it would only make you more upset. He got down on one knee, resting his hand on your blanket covered thigh in hopes of warming up to you but you shrugged him off. He sighed.

"No. It isn't."

You sniffled, refusing to look at him. "Right. You told me to get ready, then didn't answer your phone for hours, just to show up here at the dead of night. I went through all seven stages of grief for nothing. Thanks."

"Something came up."

"Something came up," you echoed. Even with the faint glow of your phone illuminating your face, Toji could see the tears start to well up in your lashes. "Must've been important."

Silence stretched for miles between the two of you. Toji could see your walls building up, shutting him out, and he felt a tinge of panic in his chest. He knew he put you through a lot, but that's part of the reason why he loved you. He felt like you understood him better than others. You didn't pry, you didn't have some unrealistic expectation of him; you took him as he was. You loved him. But it seems like even you had your limits.

"Listen, I--"

"Don't worry about it, Toji," you sighed. You swung your legs out from under you and stood up from the couch. The blanket pooled around your feet on the floor, revealing a new dress he hasn't seen before. It was beautiful, hugging your curves and showed off the top of your cleavage. Toji mentally kicked himself once again. "It was my fault, really. I got excited. Too excited. I know how unpredictable your schedule is. I should've expected it."

You sounded defeated. You wanted to walk past him but Toji wouldn't let you. He latched onto your wrist, silently begging you not to go.

"I'm really tired, Toji. So fucking tired," you whispered.

Toji took your by the waist, pulling you closer to his body and you tried to protest. You stiffened your hands on his biceps, wanting to keep the space between your bodies but he wouldn't let you. Toji couldn't afford to give you space right now. Not when you sounded like you wanted to pull away from everything.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he promised. As if his promises were any good. Your gaze was elsewhere- to the side of him, on the floor, past his head. Anywhere but his eyes.

"I should've called you." His lips found your cheek, kissing away the single tear that trailed down your skin. His hands snaked tighter around your frame, encasing you, trapping you in his affection.

"I' fucked up, okay? Look at me." Consoling you for a mistake he made was hard enough. The sincerity and vulnerability that came with being in a relationship is something that Toji had to dig deep to find. It was hundreds of feet below his tough exterior that he has meticulously built and hardened over the years, but he would chip it away to give you his heart. If you were still willing to put up with all of his bullshit.

"Look at me," he said again. Ordering you to... pleading for you to. When you spare him a glance he felt his chest open up. Your lashes clumped together in spikes as you blinked up at him with a look stained with apprehension.

"You think I'm easy," you muttered.

"Stop putting words in my mouth," he said. Toji cupped your chin and tilted your head up. You resisted it stubbornly at first, but he would stay there for as long as it took. When you tipped your head up to him, he kissed the corner of his mouth with all the softness he could muster up. So tenderly he wasn't even sure he touched your skin but you sighed. The tension in your body melted ever so slightly.

"What do I gotta do to make it up to you?" Another kiss on the other side of your mouth. Firmer, needier. He resisted the urge to take your lips fully, but even the corner of your mouth made him ache for you.

You stopped pushing him away. That was a good sign. There was a chance. "I don't know," you mumbled. "I don't know."

"Come on, ma. Tell me what you want."

You looked like you were deciding just how serious Toji was this time. He didn't deserve your patience but you gave it to him anyways. "I want to spend time with you, Toji. And I don't always want it to be after the sunsets but before the sun rises. It's like I'm in a relationship with a ghost. You're holding me now but then you'll leave without a trace." You avereted your eyes. Toji was plunged back in darkness. "I'm getting tired of it all."

"You want me to leave?"

It was unfair of him to push it back on you, he knew that, but he has never played fair in his life. Toji would do whatever you wanted him to... as long as you didn't really want him to leave you. He doesn't think he could at this point. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until you spoke again.

"No. No I don't," you said quietly. You bit your bottom lip and nestled your cheek into his hand. "I miss you so fucking much but you're just gonna do this shit again."

"I'll work something out," he whispered on your lips. You still wanted him. He was selfish, he was greedy, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You moaned, clutching the fabric on his chest as you got swept up in his advances. You had on that lip gloss that he always found amusing, the one that left his lips cool and tingling. He drank you in, leaving no way for you to shy away. He needed you, and for reasons he couldn't understand, you still wanted him too.

"Give me another chance, yeah? You won't regret it."

You had no reason to believe him. You should've kicked him out the second you had the strength to, but you were weak to his advances. Toji knew that, and he used it to his benefit. He kissed your jaw, neck and shoulder. You were obsessed with each other leaving was never going to be easy.

"One last chance."

"That's all I'm asking for."

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[elixirfromthestars]

On Days Like This

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: The comforts of sick days with your boyfriend Matt.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warning(s): fluff / descriptions of mild sickness / sick + comfort

requested by anonymous

a/n: hello! i'm jumping between wips and i was able to finish this bingo request 💖 originally it was just going to be the first part, but then I got carried away 🤭✨ as always feedback is appreciated! and my writing challenge is still on going 💗

birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡

When He's Sick

“ Matt, don’t even think about it,” you warn as he reaches for the armrest of the couch. You know what he’s about to do and you refuse to let him do it. You’re not letting him move a muscle while he’s sick. 

“ I got it,” you add, rushing to the front door and answering the knock that rang throughout his apartment seconds earlier. Matt grumbles something under his breath as he sinks back onto the couch—a resigned sigh leaving his lips. 

Your boyfriend gets a little grumpy when he’s sick. He relies on his senses to see and it’s hard to do that when he can’t breathe out of his nose and has a constant ringing in his ears. The delirium of his ongoing fever further muddied his brain. The clouding of his senses was overwhelming to say the least and you were trying your best to help remedy that. 

You open the door and grab the items you instacarted to make him some homemade chicken noodle soup. You make your way back to the kitchen where you take the items out and start preparing the meal.

You peak out into the living room. Your boyfriend resembles a child all snuggled up into the blue cotton blanket you draped over him earlier. The slight hum of the television in the background casting a light glow onto him. 

He won’t admit it now, but he secretly loves being taken care of. Its not a feeling he’s used to, but when it comes to you he welcomes it. 

When you’re done preparing the ingredients, you pour them all into a pot to simmer. You wash your hands thoroughly and then make your way over to your boyfriend. Its time to take his temperature again.

“ Hey, how are you feeling?” You ask, your tone filled with a gentle worry. You lower to your knees to be eye level with him.

“ Like my head’s going to explode,” he groans quietly. You give him a weary smile, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead. You’ve done this so many times you can’t tell if his fevers gone down or not. 

“ Open up,” you request as you inch the tip of the thermometer to his lips. He does as told and you take his temperature. 

“ One hundred and two. Looks like that medicine is starting to kick in. You were at one o’three earlier,” you say, slightly optimistic. This does nothing to cheer your boyfriend up as he’s still in his sickly haze.

You kiss your fingers and then press it onto his lips,“ Soup will be ready soon. I promise it’ll make you feel better,” your voice brings him a comfort he direly needs. Coupled that with the indirect kiss and the way you’re brushing away the strands of sweaty hair from his face—he’s in heaven. 

“ Thanks, baby,” he manages to croak out. You brush another strand from his face and he leans into your touch. “ No need to thank me. I’m here for you,” you reply with a soft sincerity. 

Damn the medicine and the soup. All he needs is you. 

After about another forty minutes the soup is done and served in a bowl. You let it cool down a bit before heading over to the couch, setting the bowl down on the coffee table. Matt can faintly pick up the savory aroma in the air and he gently sits up. He intends to reach out to grab the bowl until you swat his hands away lightly. 

“ No. I got it. You focus on getting better. I’ll do the rest,” there’s a slight pout on his lips as you say this. You’re tempted to kiss it away, but you stop yourself. The last thing either of you needed was for you to get sick too.

You blow on the soup a bit before serving him the first spoonful. The warmth spreads throughout his body blanketing him better than anything else did. 

You were right. The soup did make him feel better.

When You're Sick

A content sigh escapes you as Matt massages the lavender scented shampoo into your scalp. His fingers are delicate, but working with purpose as he lathers every strand. Your body was already melting into the bath, but with the way his hands were working—you’d soon melt into him. 

There wasn’t a strand of hair left untouched by him. He gave every bit of it his full attention. Wanting to make sure he was doing things right. He had never done this for anyone before. 

The bath was Matt’s idea and his doing. When you came down with the flu and complained about your achy muscles and congested sinuses—he knew just what to do. 

Well, more like the internet told him what to do and what products to buy.

His every touch was gentle and soothing. The scent of lavender was calming to your senses so he left it in your hair to settle for just a bit while he worked on lathering a rosemary scented body wash into your skin. His fingers work in slow circular motions, applying just the right amount of pressure to pacify the ache. 

“ How’s that?” he asks, fingers gliding over your back as his circular motions continue.

Now you were completely melting into his touch, “ Perfect. That seriously helps so much,” you reply a little breathless, your eyes closing to focus on the feeling. 

Matt grinned, pleased that he was able to help you. He loves taking care of you as much as you take care of him. Being the one you can lean on, on days like this, means everything to him.

When You're Both Sick

“ Come here,” Matt’s quiet voice rings out in his dark bedroom. The slightest sliver of moonlight coming from his window. His arms are outstretched in your direction as you make your way into the covers. 

You sniffle briefly as you snuggle into his side, his arms enveloping you immediately. You clear your throat to hold back a nasty cough that is trying to fight its way out of you. 

Your bodies tangle under the blanket, trying to calm the chills that run through both of you. Matt’s head rests delicately on your head as your face nestles into the crook of his neck. 

The cold medicine starts to take effect as your eyelids get heavier. Matt’s breathing has relaxed signaling to you he’s on the verge of falling asleep too. 

“ Goodnight,” you whisper, tilting your head to plant a soft kiss to his jaw. 

“ Goodnight,” he whispers back, planting a loving kiss to the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

You fall asleep just like that.

[twilightakiishi]

WHEN THE PHOENIX SLEEPS — C. TAKIISHI

cw: fluff. gn! reader. no pronouns or physical descriptions used for reader. mentions of pee but not at all in a sexual context, lol. lightly edited. wc: 0.9k

Takiishi is….different in the morning.

He’ll never admit that, especially not once he’s fully awake.

On the rare occasions that you aren’t going to bed alone, he’s on the opposite side of the bed, leaving you wondering how he doesn’t roll over and fall off in the dead of night. Your attempts to cuddle are often refused, whether he’s conscious or not. 

It always goes like this; his petulant huff you hear every night as he flings his body away from yours at the suggestion of touch. If he isn’t already capricious as it is, at least you can rely on one constant: Takiishi is a grump past 10 o’clock.

Waking up to a tousled ball of flaming hair nestled beneath your arm makes up for it. 

You’re not even sure how he breathes with the tip of his nose pressed into your ribcage and warm, steady, shallow breaths falling past his parted lips. He keeps you pinned with a lithe arm and leg haphazardly thrown over you. 

You’re never sure when exactly it happens, but you’ve come to realize you don’t care to know the details. All that matters is that you stay perfectly still, or else—

Jolt. Blink.

And just like that, a half asleep Chika has scooped you up and flipped the positions, forcibly nuzzling you into his side as he rests comfortably on his back, eyelids open just enough for the whites to be weirdly, eerily visible. He’s always got to be just a little unsettling– regardless of if he’s aware of it.

It’s just like any other morning spent with him, basking in a few moments of affection— perhaps the only affection guaranteed for the day. His soft breaths and gentle rain pattering against the window could lull you back to sleep, if not for the ever-present concern of a full bladder.

He’s a light sleeper, cracking an eye open at the first shift of your leg off his, and roughly pulling it back on top of him. You sigh. The cycle begins.

Takiishi would rather kill than give up his early morning, all-in-one human furnace and weighted blanket. Sleep is more of a hard reset for him than for anyone you’ve ever known, taking his body temperature down so low you’re surprised his hair doesn’t turn blue. Not to mention the abrupt change in personality– clinginess and a need for affection that could rival Endo’s. 

You fiddle with his fingers that hold onto your leg in an attempt to pry them off you, jumping when he speaks up.

“Stop.”

“Chika, I need to pee.”

“Hold it.”

“That’s not good for you!”

“Go back to sleep.” Easy for you to say.

“I can’t.”

Silence, followed by shallow breaths. You pull your head up this time, only for him to push it right back down. You huff.

“Chika, I’ll come right back. Let go.”

“No.” His brows furrow for a split second, eyes still shut. 

“I will pee right now. I am not joking.”

No you won’t, and yes you are, he thinks.

“If I get a UTI because of you I will never let it go. You won’t hear the end of it.”

Silence. 

“I’ll start sleeping on the couch, even.”

Silence. He knows you’re bluffing. His eye twitches anyway.

“Endo lets me get up when I need to…maybe I’ll go to his place tonight instead.”

That’s because Endo is a pushover, he thinks. Wait. What did you just say?

One amber eye cracks open again to peer down at you. Your gaze meets his even with his hand pressed to the top of your head, eyes laced with determination and just a hint of desperation that he may or may not pick up on, depending on how groggy he is. He watches you strain against his grip a bit longer before letting go, shivering at the loss of contact when you jolt up. 

Pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and pulling the comforter up to cover his head, you run off to the bathroom, hissing at the contact of the cold floor beneath your feet.

At this point, he’s spoken to you, so you know your sweet, drowsy Chika isn’t going to last much longer. The more awake he becomes, the less affectionate. With this in mind, you move as fast as you can, hoping that when you turn the corner to enter the bedroom he’ll still be a lump under the covers.

To your absolute delight, he is, rustling under them in an attempt to get warm. You poke at the lump to announce your arrival, giggling when he goes still for a split second. Before you know it, one arm reaches out to loop around your waist, sweeping you under the covers in an instant. 

You land on top of him with an oof, giggling as he pulls the covers over you wordlessly. Engulfed in darkness, warmth steadily returning to your bodies, you let out a sigh of relief. Maybe now you can fall back asleep.

“...I’m awake.”

Oh, right. You tense in preparation for him to toss the covers off, but the warmth only intensifies as he pulls you up to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Shocked, you blink, lashes tickling him and making him jerk away for a moment.

“Quit.”

“Sorry, wasn’t on purpose. Uh...do you wanna get up?”

“No. It’s warm.”

You smile, melting against him. “Mmkay.”

Takiishi is an enigma, an ever changing puzzle you have to fight to figure out. At the same time, he’s simple; fueled by his own desires and acting on them without thought. 

You hope the winter lasts just a bit longer this year.

[impactedfates]

Can you do imbibitor lunar! Dan heng x troublemaker! GN! Child reader? (Platonic)

Dan heng was supposed to babysit the reader but the reader is a little bit a trouble maker.. The reader has a soft spot for Dan heng lololo

A/N: Hihi :D I’ve returned!! Sorry for leaving for so long, but I should be able to get back to writing!! Requests are still closed for now, once all my current requests are finished and maybe some short fics and/or scenarios are written I'll open them up again. Thank you anon for the request!! And thank you for being patient with me to write this, I hope you'll enjoy this :>>

W.C: 1692

Warnings: None (I hope - Not fully proofread but I’ll fix anything once I’m back from school Ü)

Extra: Dan Heng is in his Vidyadhara form // Child reader so ofc is younger and shorter then most characters // Trailblazer is whoever you want it to be lol // Reader has been babysat for awhile by the Express (specifically Dan Heng) but now lives with the express in the fic

“[Name]!! Get down from that…NO DON’T J U M P”

March let out a small groan as she ran and stopped you from trying to jump off the fridge. She sighed and shook her head at you.

“Just what would Dan Heng think about this”

You stook out your tongue at the tired girl as she carefully put you down. Shaking her head. You were a new member of the Express family, Dan Heng had found you hiding when he was walking around Scalegorge Waterscape. And you seemed to cling to him, always hugging his tail. He doesn’t say no to it but he is surprised you seem to like him so much.

The Express like you as well!...Expect you seem to only like Dan Heng…especially when he’s in his Imbibitor Lunae form, not to say you don’t like him when he’s in his regular form, but you seem a LOT more attached when he lets you cling onto his tail.

It’s obvious to all the express (except Dan Heng it would seem) that you won’t listen to anyone but him, and on one hand it can be cute, on the other hand…it can be painful.

“[Name] All I said was that you couldn’t eat ice-cream for breakfast…it is not healthy whatsoever!”

March explained, puffing her cheeks, though maybe she shouldn’t say anything as she herself tried eating ice-cream for breakfast.

“Who’s trying to eat ice-cream for breakfast?”

A tired voice came, as Dan Heng came walking in, rubbing his eyes as he had just woken from sleep, his long hair tied back. After you joined he seemed to be in this form more often, for different reasons, one of them being you refused to sleep unless his tail was your blanket.

“[Name] is! Dan Heng tell them they cannot have it, and we’re saving it for tonight!!”

“[Name], Himeko bought them so we can have them to eat for movie night later tonight…plus having ice-cream for breakfast isn’t healthy y’know”

Dan Heng spoke gently, crouching down to your level, March stood behind him with a victorious grin. She knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to him…and she was right, you pouted a bit and looked away, crossing your arms, mumbling out an annoyed and reluctant.

“Fine.”

.

.

.

“[Name] sweetheart, please give that ba-”

*C R A S H*

Yet another mug belonging to Himeko broke right in front of her eyes. She silently mourned the mug, taking a small deep breath and looked at you.

“Y’know…your auntie Himeko liked that mug a lot sweetie…”

She spoke, gesturing to herself, but you simply stook out your tongue at her, about to reach over and knock over ANOTHER mug, this time belonging to Welt. Himeko was quick to swoop you away from it and caught the mug from making another loud noise. She placed it on a higher shelf, away from your reach even if you climbed and despite your thrashing, moved you on the Express couch.

“I heard a loud crash, is everything alright?”

Dan Heng called out, walking in, spotting the broken mug on the floor, his eyes softened and looked at Himeko apologetically. 

“That was your favourite mug…wasn’t it?”

“Yep…”

She sighed, shaking her head disappointedly. Dan Heng was quick to grab a broom and start cleaning the broken shards, Himeko smiled at his gesture and began ruffling his head as if he was a child.

“Himeko…”

*C R A S H*

Himeko froze and her head snapped towards the source of the sound, the direction of your very own bedroom. You had seemingly left quickly when Dan Heng and Himeko were chatting and now you seemed to have broken yet another thing, you came waltzing in with a bunch of credits in your hand, lifting them up to Himeko, and with puppy eyes said.

“I’m sorry auntie, here. You can buy another one!”

Himeko smiled softly at you and shook her head, carefully taking the credits from your hand. Although you probably only ran to your piggy bank (assuming that’s what you broke for the credits) because Dan Heng entered, she could tell you did feel sorry upon hearing it was her favourite mug.

“It’s okay sweetie…just…try not to do it again”

You smiled and nodded. Promising her you won’t do it again…if you couldn’t actually keep that promise, she wasn’t sure. And she was sure you weren’t sure either but. She’d forgive you again in a heartbeat if she’s being honest.

.

.

.

Welt stared blankly at your wall, the wall that had now been decorated with some of his artwork…his artwork that had been torn up and collaged up without his permission. 

“[Name]...what…is this?”

He spoke, pushing up his glasses as he closed as his eyes narrowed, darting at each page, clearly with a rip. Though he will admit that the collage…was pretty nice. Just…he wished it wasn’t from one of his sketchbooks, old or not.

“Art”

You said proudly, and sure…you weren’t technically wrong. Welt simply sighed and shook his head, crouching down to your level and carefully explained to you that you shouldn’t take things without people's permission. It isn’t nice.

You tilted your head and grinned, before grabbing his sketch book from your bed, looking him straight in the eye…you did ask but you did it while…ripping the page in the process. Welt could only pinch his nose in slight irritation…until the door to your door opened and his sketchbook was thrown behind your bed as you looked at whoever entered innocently.

“Big Brother! Look what I made”

“Huh? Oh…looks nice [Name]”

Dan Heng spoke, his eyes looking at the wall before it noticed Welt, he turned to face you with a concerned expression.

“Did you…ask Mr Welt if you could use his things?”

“Well no…”

“[Name], next time ask, Mr Welt really treasures his drawings”

You simply nodded with a small pout, honestly you thought it was an old sketchbook Welt didn’t care about…but hey. You still got a compliment from Dan Heng right? Welt could only hope you’d listen now that Dan Heng told you.

.

.

.

“Did you both really just go hunting in trash?”

Dan Hen asked with a deadpan, looking at you and the trailblazer, now filthy. You giggled a bit, scratching the back of your head. As the trailblazer was quick to defend themselves.

“THIS TIME…this time it wasn’t me, believe me. This one right here jumped into the dumpster first, so I jumped in to get them. Then I tried to catch them but they kept…SWIMMING?? Around in the piles of trash…wait can you swim in trash?”

The Vidyadhara put up his hand to silence the grey haired trailblazer, before his eyes glanced at you. Raising an eyebrow, he silently asked if this was true to which you…slowly nodded again, embarrassed. He sighed a bit and rubbed his temples, he was still calm. He simply pointed in the direction of the bathrooms.

“You two, bathe. Now.”

“But-”

“N o w.”

.

.

.

Movie Night! Finally, nothing bad happens. Perhaps that was due to Dan Heng managing to keep you calm and quiet with just his presence. But no one complains, everyones happy enough.

Everyone goes to their own room after they finish up so they could go to bed and get ready for the next mission, but they seem to find something in their room, a gift it would seem?

March's eyes widened a bit as she looked at the new camera that was decorated too! With her family, and a small note near it, reading

‘Thank you big sister!! I know you like photos right? Dan Heng helped me buy this for you, I hope you like it’

March squealed a bit and hugged the camera, thanking you a million times in her head.

Himeko’s eyes landed on an (albeit badly) made mug, decorated with various shades of her favourite colours and writing that she knew instantly was yours.

‘Best Auntie Ever!’

Perhaps she found her new favourite mug already…now for some coffee to pour into it.

Welt flicked through the pages of the new sketch book, only one drawing was made, at the front cover. He recognized your art style and smiled softly as he saw the mini doodles of the Express family and a very angry Pompom.

He grabbed a pencil and began sketching on the first page.

The Trailblazer lifted up the small trash bin pin, they could till it was custom made…I mean who would sell bins of them peaking out a bin?...

But they didn’t care, it was cute. They knew exactly who got it for them too. Carefully they pinned it on their jacket.

Yes you could be a pain for them sometimes, especially if Dan Heng wasn’t there to settle you. But they all cared for you, and just these gifts alone told them that you indeed also cared for them.

.

.

.

“But you helped me with buying them all and writing the words”

You grumbled, crossing your arms as the raven hair tucked you into bed.

“And you were the one who decided AND knew what to get them, additionally it was also your idea”

He speaks, a soft smile painting his lips. He always knew how troublesome you were, from the day he began babysitting you to the day you were allowed to actually live on the express. He knew you only really behaved around him and with the others well, your ‘true colours’ would appear. 

It was the others who thought he didn’t know you had a soft spot for him due to him calmly telling you to stop things then going on about his day, but he just knew that all it would take is a few words and you’d do it.

 But he also knew you still cared for the rest of your family. Although sure, you had your favourites, you had the one you were most soft for…that won’t change the love and care you have for your other family members. But uh perhaps you should show it a bit better…still though

They were your family.

And you were their family.

Neither of you would change that.

It didn't occur to me until after writing this that the anon could've meant Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng like Dan Feng, also I didn't exactly write babysitting (I mentioned it) but I wrote it more so as the reader living with the Express family. To the anon who requested this I'm so sorry if I messed it up ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥)‧º·

[sc0tters]

One Night | Gabe Perrault

summary: when things get said during spring break, you realise gabe doesn’t hate you all as much as he makes it seem.

trope: one bed

warnings: mentions of underage drinking.

word count: 2.27k

authors note: can we truly believe that this is the first time I’ve used this trope? Like seriously it’s shocking, I'm on the fence on if I liked this or not but still here is our second update of the week and another to add to the BC boys and the 500 follower celly (that I hope to finish soon...)! But beyond that we all love a bit of a rom-com-inspired prompt, don't ask me which one but I know I've seen this on tv before.

You thought that you were the unluckiest woman in the world.

Gabe was for lack of a better phrase your perfect type of guy. Every quality you wanted he had, but the one that he lacked that was by far the most important was the one he needed; Gabe hated you. It shocked everyone, you were nice and this cheerful ball of a joy on the media team. Every interaction you two had was engraved in your brain and none of them had you him being nice to you.

It was stupid how you felt the need to hide your feelings by masking things up with hatred and backhanded comments. Because as much as you didn’t want to admit that you were enamored by him. Each time a guy would make a move on you, they were always turned down because you only wanted him.

But those wants only became stronger as you both ended up in the same group that headed down to Florida for spring break “what the fuck!” You both groaned jumping out of your seats as you learnt that you’d be sharing a room together “we’re sorry but you’re the only two who are single.” Ryan shrugged as each of the boys wrapped their arms around their girlfriends.

Gabe scrunched his face in disgust “I’ll sleep on the couch.” He announced after remembering that it was a double bed in the blue room that you two were in “don’t act like you’re doing me a favor here.” You scoffed as you shook your head “I’ll sleep out here.” You added as you raked your fingers through your hair.

As you both glared at each other Julianne couldn’t help but clap her hands together “surely you guys could just put your shit aside for one day?” She groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose “I have nothing against him!” You rolled your eyes as you pushed past the boy “you sure about that?” Gabe’s question was only met with him being hit with a pillow.

The first night was the most awkward as you were in the middle of your nighttime routine when Gabe walked into the bathroom “I’ll take the floor.” His voice was soft as you rubbed cream into your neck “no.” You sighed as you shook your head.

He clutched his pillow as he furrowed his eyebrows “I’m not letting you take the floor-” Gabe’s words were quickly shut down as you glared at him “I was going to offer half of the bed.” You corrected him as you crossed your arms letting out an unamused scoff.

It made him roll his eyes “shouldn’t even be surprised.” The hockey player threw his pillow back onto the bed “you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine.” He snapped as blankets were thrown between you both to create what only be the Great Wall of blankets “don’t have to tell me twice.” You grumbled as you hit your pillow trying to fluff it up.

The air was tense as you both climbed into bed refusing to acknowledge the other person as you each faced the wall “you don’t snore right?” Gabe as a kick hit his calf “ow!” He groaned as you had broken the wall between you both like it was nothing “the only thing you have to worry about is me trying to not kill you!” You grumbled as you rolled your eyes nuzzling your head into your pillow as you sighed.

As you stared up at the wall you couldn’t help but hate the fact that deep down you still knew you had some kind of feelings for him.

Ryan and Will couldn’t help but sneak into the room as the sun hung below the clouds and by ten a.m there wasn’t a peep that came from the room at the end of the hall. Their curiosities got the best of them as the boys had all made their bets for what had happened with most believing that one of you were dead “oh damn.” Cutter grumbled as he was met with the site of Gabe’s arm wrapped around your waist as you were both asleep on his side of the bed.

But Jacob was quick to hit his head “we’re home!” The girls called out as they had been shopping “lets go.” The goalie grumbled as he motioned how you began to stir. The sun hit the floor as your eyes blink almost having you jump in surprise as the door slammed shut “Jesus!” You yelled being faced with the sight of a sleeping Gabe.

It didn’t last long though as he groaned “could you not?” He pleaded snuggling back into your side “Gabe get off me!” You complained as you attempted to pull him off of you.

Gabe’s eyes shot open as he realised that it was you who he was with “why the hell are you on my side?” He scoffed sending you a glare “why is your arm wrapped around me!” You shot back as you pushed your hand against his chest as you motioned to your waist.

The way his hand left your waist would have made you laugh usually but instead you found yourself rolling your eyes as you got up “I need a shower.” You announced grabbing your towel from the rack beside your bed “why do you get to go first?” He scoffed making you tense up.

There was a moment that you both stared at each other as you glared at him before you both ran to the bathroom with you only getting there first because he had to climb off of the bed. A smirk formed on your lips as you stood to face him at the door “sorry slowpoke.” You waved your fingers at him at your dropped your towel on the door letting the door slam shut in his face.

As much as you wanted to piss him off, your shower was quick. But you should have seriously contemplated spending just a few more minutes in there. You were in the middle of styling your hair when Gabe finally walked out with his towel loosely wrapped around his waist as water dripped down his front “you like what you see?”He smirked as your cheeks went red and your mouth fell open.

Your mouth watered at the pure sight of him as the thoughts left your brain “cat got your tongue too now?” Gabe laughed as your eyes went wide “shut up.” You grumbled as you shook your head.

You got up to leave but the boy had made his way over to you “c’mon you ready to admit that I’m hot?” His hand cupped your jaw as his thumb rubbed a soothing line against your skin “I’ll say it.” You gasped as your heart thumped out of your chest as he nodded “when I’m fucking dead.” You spat as your hand raised to slap his away.

As you shut the door with the slam the group downstairs realised that they weren’t going to be able to tease you both about whatever happened in that room. Beyond not so subtle snickers from them say two came to an end with you and Gabe avoiding each other until you went to bed.

Day three was surprising for Gabe as he woke up to an empty bed, you had gone for a run on the beach and did everything within your power to avoid him. All the way until the night was about to come to an end as Cutter and Will opted to do a campfire on the beach to end the night off.

The sound of crackling wood echoed through everyone’s ears as you and Gabe had been sent to get everyone drinks “could you believe that y/n had a crush on Gabe?” You and Gabe both seemed to freeze as you heard the words “had? She still does!” Another girl laugh as you made the mental note to kill your friends “y/n?” Gabe’s voice was shaky as you gripped your the neck of your beer bottle.

Your ears pounded as you felt the sand between your toes “I should go.” You nodded to yourself quickly turning around as you ran back in the direction of the house as embarrassment ran through your mind.

Tears streamed down your face as Gabe turned to his friends “I’m so sorry.” Julianna apologised as she raised her hand to her mouth “look just take these drinks.” Gabe sighed as he placed the cooler on Will’s lap “what are you gonna do?” Cutter went to give the boy beer but he stopped him.

Gabe knew it was stupid but he couldn’t process that those words could have been true “does she really?” Truly it looked as though Gabe had been hit by a truck “please just be nice to her.” Julianna pleaded as she watched him run in the same direction that you had.

You swore you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide as you locked the door to your bedroom. Sliding down to the ground your knees quickly hit your chest “why’d you have to be a fucking idiot.” You sobbed taking your fingers through your hair. You craved some kind of soothing moment as you lay your head against the door “y/n?”

That voice made you freeze as your eyes went wide “go away Gabe!” You groaned bringing your hand to your face to wipe the snot from your nose “please I just wanna talk.” His voice was soft as he leaned against the door “just so you can reject me?” There was a hint of irritation and amusement in your tone as you laughed.

The boy shoved his hands into his pockets as he sighed “what I want to say sort of needs me to see you.” The hockey player was close to giving up when he couldn’t hear you “please.” He thought you moved away from the door.

But instead you got up and unlocked it facing the boy “can I come in?” He pleaded sending you a small smile as you stepped aside to let him in. The air felt heavy as he wiped his hands on the thighs of his shorts “you were crying?” Gabe frowned as you were quick to wipe your eyes as though it would make it impossible for him to see.

You shook your head “you said you wanted to talk?” You reminded him of what he had said “do you really like me?” This desire filled his mind as he was desperate to hear you say it “you know I do.” You rolled your eyes not being able to bring yourself to finally say it to him “just say it.” He groaned tugging at his hair.

The inside of your cheek was soft against your mouth as you chewed at the flesh “okay sure yeah I like you but could we just act like I didn’t?” You pleaded thrashing your fists as you didn’t want to hear him turn you down.

But Gabe couldn’t help it as he smiled “sure you think my feelings are funny!” You complained not noticing as he shook his head “how have you not noticed that I like you!” He groaned as he crossed his arms.

Truthfully in the time that he knew you Gabe had never seen you so quiet “you hate me!” You shot back swearing that he was lying “I wanted to after I saw you and that football player and after that it just got too far to not stay with that.”Gabe let out a huff as he sat on the bed “god I could hit you.” You mumbled sitting next to him.

Gabe smiled as he nodded “think I might as well do it too.” He watched you turn to face him “why couldn’t you have told me sooner?” You were in a way irritated that you had to watch him with so many other girls before you came into his picture “you saw the way we acted on the first day here.” You had hit him with like four bottle caps each time he’d open his mouth because he had pissed you off.

Laughter filled the room as you were both reminded of the memory “so what do we do now?” The question came as the next logical thought as you wondered what was going to happen “what do you mean?” As Gabe turned to you, you both finally saw how little space was in fact between you “do we go back to hating each other?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you prepared yourself for the worst.

Gabe felt his heart break a little at your words “wanted to take you on a date.” He explained causing a smile to form on your face “like a real one?” You laughed as he brought his hand to cup your cheek.

This time it was soft though, a stark contrast to just a few days ago when he had done it “want to give you the world pretty girl.” You giggled as you stared back at him “can I kiss you?” You blurted out not getting a chance to regret your question because the boy nodded as he kissed you.

His lips were soft as you practically melted into his touch “you better not have killed her Perreault!” Ryan’s warning made you both pull away “you were good at that.” You mumbled running your finger over your lip as you looked at him “plenty more of where that came from.” Gabe pecked your lips once more before he got up “she’s still alive I promise!”

[dissociation-station123]

Nanami Kento X Reader

Smut Warning but also pretty sweet because well it is a Kento One shot 🥹

You had a sense of guilt as you looked around the room. You had no excuses for why it was a mess. You had not moved from your spot on the couch except to shower and brush your teeth. Physically you should have enough energy but your mind keeps making you feel exhausted.

There was a conversation occurring on your television but at this point it was merely background noise. You refuse to let yourself doom scroll on Tik Tok for another hour. So you were just staring off into space.

You are brought back to reality when you hear the door open. A sense of dread washes over you. The familiar feeling that you are a horrible person for not being productive with your time off.

“Y/N…” You hear him call out to you and you jump up to try and straighten anything within arms length. “No dinner cooked?” You hear him say as you reach to toss the blanket over the back of the couch.

Your entire being freezes. No… No… Not now… Against your will you are once again pulled into your mind. Your brain forces you to relive your own memories. Where those who claimed to love you berated and insulted you. Lazy… Useless…

Suddenly strong arms wrap you up from behind. “You know I just want to make sure you eat my love…” Words of true comfort greet you. You know this man. Nanami Kento was always gentle and kind. A soft kiss to the back of your head immediately warms your entire being.

“I did have something I promise.” You say and turn to face him. A soft smile forms but when you look into his eyes you see something else. “Rough day?” You ask, concealing a smirk.

You feel him inhale you in and let out a breath. His entire body tense against your own. “It was.” He whispers his hands now digging into your hips.

You smile widely knowing exactly what he needs. “Kento…” You softly mutter his name and you feel his heart rate increase. “You can use me…” before you could utter a cute nickname his lips were on yours. It was a deliciously suffocating kiss. He does not hold back his desperate groans.

The logical part in you knew you should feel bad that his day was hard. You should let him relax and make him a meal. Bring him his favorite novel and warm tea.

Then his fingers lace into your hair and all rational thought quickly evaporates. You loved when he had a terrible day. Your twisted mind rejoiced at his tired expression. Because this is when your calm, sweet, and collected boyfriend loses all control.

Kento yanks your head back and a soft moan escapes your lips. You look up at him as he loosens his tie. Your gaze travels to his eyes and the exhaustion has now altered to something else. You feel your grin widen into what was probably a villainous smile.

“I ordered take out so we have about 30 min.” His voice has now lowered. Your stomach tingles in anticipation. In one quick motion he has you on your knees in front of him, fisting your hair a bit harder. You feel your body react from his rough handling.

“Open…” Kento orders and you oblige him. Leaning over you he sticks two fingers into your mouth. “Suck…” his voice falters into more of a low growl. Your tongue runs along his digits as you suck greedily. “So good…” He mumbles.

Without warning his fingers slide to the back of your throat and you instinctively swallow. “Fuck…” Hearing Kento curse was one of your many guilty pleasures. You would do anything for a fix. As you drool onto his hand you reach up to undo his belt.

Clumsily you fumble with the clasp. “You know I love you…” Kento says as you look up into his intense eyes. You nod with an aloof mischievous smile. “I find your clumsiness adorable and endearing most of the time. Right now we don’t have time and it’s utterly frustrating.” He practically spat down at you and you shiver with excitement.

“Get that dumb smirk off your face Y/N…” Kento hisses but you can’t seem to follow his demand. The degradation was an infrequent treat. He sighs at your expression and unbuttons his pants, pushing your hands away. Then his own hand wraps around your throat, you inhale a quick breath. “How disappointing that you still get so turned on by being disrespected.”

“Kento…” You try to call out but he adds pressure and instead a moan escapes, your eyes rolling back.

“I don’t have time for excuses.” He practically hisses and you bite your lower lip. His feral need for you was a comfort. He leans into you nibbling at your ear.

His other hand travels down your body. Stopping at the end of your shorts. His fingers slide past the hem and you groan as he runs two along above your panties. “Already wet for me, such a broken mess…” He whispers his breath tickles your neck seductively.

You take in a shuddering breath. “Grab my shoulders.” He orders his tone forceful yet soft. You do as you're told. “That’s my good girl.” Before you could utter a response your shorts and panties were on the ground. Kento Nanami lifted you up with ease, walking to the closest wall pressing your back against it. His eyes are dark and needy.

You moan as his grip on your waist tightens to be able to undo his pants with his other hand. You watch as his dress pants and boxes fall to the ground around his feet. His cock was already pulsating with need, precum leaked from the tip.

He was so kind that you often forgot how big he was physically. You were not small yet he made you feel that way. You are not sure how you got so lucky that a man like Kento fell for a woman like you. You merely cling to the hope he wouldn’t grow bored.

“If I hurt you let me know…” He whispers his expression growing gentler as he sees you lost in your thoughts.

“Pfft…” You giggle at the sentiment. You were so used to others fulfilling their own needs. You have grown accustomed to the pain and pleasure that comes with it. Kento growls at your dismissal.

Without another word he shoves his hard cock deep inside and your body arches. The warmth and wet sounds of your arousal makes you call out in pleasure. He grunts overcome by the sensation himself. He slowly begins to move his hands, traveling to pull apart your ass to push even further.

You push your forehead against his and he looks down at you. “It’s ok.” You mutter in an attempt to let him know he did not need to hold himself back. His reply was another seething kiss. His tongue claiming the inside of your mouth both of you fall into deep moans and heavy breathing.

With your blessing you feel his fingers dig into your fleshy cheeks and he increases his speed. “Fuck yes…” you whimper uncontrollably and this sends him reeling over the edge. All traces of his gentleman- like behavior vanishes. He pounds in and out wildly. Using you to release all his pent up aggression.

Your pussy clenches around him and your body shakes as your hit with an overwhelming orgasm. This makes him lose himself further. Your back now slams against the wall and your nails dig into his back. “Kento!” You shout his name. He was unable to speak, merely growling and groaning as he continued to fuck you with no abandonment.

Just as his phone dinged with a notification, your head was shoved back and he pushed inside you as far as possible. You feel his cock twitching as he whines riding his own release. His large hand is now laying on your lower stomach to feel where he claimed you. “I love you…” He manages to cry out and you kiss his face.

He slowly pulls out and you whimper, missing the feeling of his dick filling you to the brim. He helps you into your shorts and pulls his pants back up just as there was a knock on the door.

He lifts you up again as if you weighed nothing, sets you on the couch and kisses your forehead. You watch him saunter over to greet the delivery person. “Good evening. I appreciate you.” His calming deep voice proclaims as you hear the rustle of bags. The other person politely responds and Kento closes the door.

Studying him further he sets the food and drinks on the coffee table and takes the remote. Finding a light comedy that you all had seen a hundred times but knowing it was a comfort show for you. He begins pulling out everything and organizing each item. You had no words to express how much you cared for this man.

“Kento what in the hell did I do to deserve you?” You find yourself asking, your tone truly confused. A gentle smile greets you and his eyes look into yours filled with so much love you almost wanted to run.

“Sweetheart…” He says and it was never chastising. One word out of his lips made you truly feel cherished. “I think the same about you. You are my safe harbor when everything seems to be going wrong.” He cups your cheek and you want to cry tears of happiness. Just as you go to protest he holds up a dumpling to feed you. You gladly accept. “After we relax I want to worship you like you deserve.”

Your heart races and you can’t believe you can still feel this way. Butterflies dance in your stomach. You never thought after so many years a man would be able to make you believe in love again. But Kento Namani, a tall giant with a heart of gold and obsession with bread did just that.

[thought--bubble]

There Is Still Hope ..... Isn't There? Pt2

Tom Bennett X (Best Friend's Sister Reader)

Word Count: 1,218

There is Still Hope Isn''t there? Masterlist

Tom Bennett Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: None

You arrive home late from your shift and as usual Josh is up sipping tea and waiting for you in the kitchen.

"busy night?" he whispers to you.

"Yeah i guess so" you say dropping your purse on the table

"Shhh!" He gestures toward the living room where you can see a sleeping Tom curled up on the sofa.

You look at Josh confused. "Is he alright then?"

"lets go upstairs to talk" he nods towards the stairs and you grab your purse and then follow him up.

Josh walks into your room and sits on the corner of the bed. "He has nowhere to go"

You place your purse down on the dresser gently.

"his dad is gone, his sister left." Josh runs his fingers through his hair. "he's been through.... incredible things. He just needs a minute, to pick himself back up"

"Course, Course, I understand"

"He's not that same goofy fella we knew. He's been through hell. I just...... i gotta help him ya know?" Josh sighs "I know this is your home too so if you're not ok with it-:"

You cut him off quickly "Of course i'm ok with it." you sit down next to him. "As long as he needs is fine with me"

"Great, get some sleep" Josh pats your knee "We'll talk more about this in the morning"

you nod and wish Josh a good night before getting changed into your nightgown. as you lay down for sleep all you can think about is Tom curled up on the sofa. Josh didn't even get him a blanket! You laugh to yourself.

You can't leave him like that so you look around for a spare blanket and pillow. you quietly make your way down the stairs, blanket and pillow in hand. you walk over to a sleeping Tom as quietly as possible. you gently place the blanket over him and attempt to slide the pillow under his head.

The touch of your hands makes him jump awake and grab onto your wrists tightly.

"Oh!" you attempt to pull away startled.

He grips you tight for another moment before a look of recognition crosses his face and he lets go.

"oh, kid i'm sorry" he mumbles groggily.

"No Tom, that's ok i'm sorry" you shift uncomfortably and cross your arms covering your chest. Just now realizing that your nightgown is a bit more revealing than you would normally present yourself in front of Tom. "Just brought you a blanket and pillow... didn't mean to wake ya"

He looks over at the pillow half hanging off the sofa. "you're too sweet to me" he chuckles and pulls the pillow up on the couch squishing it up and laying his head back down on it.

You blush as you nod at him. "Well good night Tom" you turn towards the stairs and he yawns.

"Night kid" He turns over on the sofa getting comfortable.

You glance back over at him one last time before climbing the stairs and heading back to your room.

As you lay in your bed you find it difficult to sleep thinking of Tom down there asleep on the sofa. It's not like he didn't crash at your place from time to time when he and Josh were running amuck as teenagers but it just felt so different now.

He had said you grew up, were a proper lady now. Then hours later used that dreaded nickname "kid".

"Kid" you say out loud letting it echo through the empty room. "I'm no bloody kid" you grumble while turning over.

At some point sleep took you, because before you knew it you were waking to the gentle knock of Josh at your door. "Tea is on"

"Thank you!" you yell toward the door. You stretch before getting out of bed and walking toward the door. As soon as your hand hits the doorknob you stop and remember "Tom's down there, I gotta get dressed".

You turn back to your closet refusing to go down in front of Tom in your nightgown. "Hmmmm" you tap your lip looking at your clothing options. Usually you would not be too picky on a day like today. Since your plan was to stay home and catch up on the cleaning, but with Tom being downstairs you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to look beautiful.

You choose a nice black dress with red trim and put your hair up nice. You start to place a bit of blush on your cheek when you hear another knock on your door.

"You coming?" you can tell Josh is confused. The routine you two follow is the same every morning. He wakes up first and heads to the kitchen putting on the tea and then comes back upstairs to wake you. By the time you reach the kitchen usually still clad in your nightgown, the tea is ready. You sit with Josh for a bit and chat before he heads out for work. You never deviate from the routine. It is very important to you and to Josh that you make time for each other.

Since the tea has been long past ready this morning and cooling on the counter Josh is now confused and waiting.

You get up and open the bedroom door. "Yeah i'm coming, sorry" you close the door behind you.

"Just cuz he's here don't mean you gotta get all dressed up for tea" Josh states raising an eyebrow at you. "It's still just Tom"

"I know, but i can't be frolicking about in my nightgown either, it's a bit revealing" You shrug "Now let's go have tea, you have to leave soon"

The two of you journey downstairs to where Tom is sat at the table thumbing through a newspaper.

"Tom's gonna be out looking to get himself a proper job today" Josh smirks as he enters the kitchen grabbing the cup off of the counter and handing it to you.

"Tom with a proper job? never thought" you chuckle as you take a sip of the tea and then grimace.

"Cold huh? that's what happens when you're late for mornin tea" Josh plops a kiss on your forehead. "Don't let him sit in the flat all day, he's gotta get out there"

"Yeah, yeah I won't I have things to do today don't need him in the way all day" You smile and wave at Josh as he walks out the door.

"I won't be in your way, I'm heading out now." He takes a piece of toast from the table and stuffs it in his mouth.

"You know who's hiring? What places to go to?"

"I'm not new round here. I know the places." he looks you up and down briefly. "That's a nice dress"

You blush lightly and turn away "So where ya thinking?" You are really hoping he will stay for at least a little bit, so you will have the chance to spend some time with him alone.

"Few places, you'll know when I land something" he gives you a cheeky grin as he walks out the door. "See ya kid" he wiggles his eyebrows and closes the door behind him leaving you standing quietly in the kitchen.

"I'm not a bloody kid!" you yell into the empty space.

Part 3

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[casablancarossa]

All I need is you.

<<an [18+] taemin x reader story>>

Pairings : Taemin x female!reader

Genre: Smut, Mini Angst. Extra Extra Mini Fluff

Content Warning : 18+, Minors DNI, Unprotected Sex, Implications of SelfHarm/Depression. Pillow Talk

Synopsis: Taemin was no-show which left you feeling pretty down and unwanted, but its Taemin and he will do anything to make sure you no longer doubt how much he wants you.

Authors Note: It's long, its steamy. So here ya go darlings. BTW, while this is a continuation of 'Please Amore', didn't realize I was going to write about mirrors again. With a man this good looking, of course he would have a inclination towards mirrors.

Also I refuse to be held liable for how long this post is.. I couldn't write one moment and suddenly I couldn't stop writing.. So Yeah.

God bless the metamorph concerts.. so many pics to use .

Enjoy Reading!!

"So... amore.."

Taemin's dulcet call doesn't even come close to budging you out of your position in bed. Poor guy is practically unprotected in bed as you had managed to form a cocoon out of the blanket and remained in there, huffing something about a forgotten date or plan, or something along those lines. His arms reach out, placing a hand on the soft covers, pushing it down far enough so that he could see your face.

You were far from impressed and it will take every inch of your being from being livid and if your boyfriend was not so damn adorable, you would have probably used the pillows and hit him repeatedly until its feathery innards exploded. "You made me wait like a fool... in front of the company building, no less." you hissed through your teeth. The cocoon you were in had finally exploded, chucking it towards Taemin, immediately walking towards the door.

Not even the beckoning meows of Kkoong stopped you from huffing and immediately dropping onto the couch, grabbing the throw to cover your legs.

"Y/n-ah, you know I didn't mean to bail" Taemin's voice called out from the bedroom. It was followed by the noises of slippers shuffling on the floor as he waddles out, now cocooning himself with the blanket. He moves towards you and really pushing the cute act, plopping down to lay on top of you. "I'm sorry..." he mumbles, burying his head on your lap.

"One night, Taemin. All I wanted was one night" you sighed, folding your arms to stop yourself from dropping an ounce of affection.

"When I get back from Japan, I promise, we can have a fully week of uninterrupted date nights."

"No point now is there", you huffed quietly.

Being in the same room as Taemin made your heart break, and the more physical distance there is between you, the better it is, letting the silence heal your wounded ego.

With Taemin's schedule suddenly ramping up since his concert and amongst TV appearances and being holed up in the studio, you had rarely seen him the last two weeks. Maybe three. Within that time period, Taemin had flaked out on maybe four planned dates. Two of which he planned himself, but at least you were at home and half ready, so it didn't bother you. Three if you included tonight, but this time you had gotten ready and stood outside SM's building for over an hour, and only got the text from Taemin saying there was traffic it'll probably be an hour or two before he gets home. When you asked for an elaboration, no response.

It wasn't like Taemin to not respond and you were too annoyed to rationalize his actions, immediately jumping to the worse conclusions an angry woman could possibly think of. He is either cheating, or he is dying, and the former seemed more likely in your head. Now, you know, Taemin wouldn't dare enter an affair, honestly you didn't think it was possible, but Taemin would always be upfront about missing things due to schedule because it was his way of facing accountability. It was no secret that he has picked his schedule over you at times, not intending malice, but he would often think these things would be done on time and he would be home in time for you.

Your eyes flicker to the clock on the wall as it quietly ticked. 2:15. It had gotten so late and it dawned on you that you had been moping for over 3 hours and Taemin had only walked through the door maybe an hour ago. "I'm going for a shower, then go to bed. You should sleep, you still have an early schedule tomorrow", you mumbled, shifting your body so that Taemin's head would drop on the seat of th couch.

His eyes followed your hunched figure making way to the bathroom, noting how hard you were trying to act casual. Act as if you weren't pissed at all, but he could see it in your face. How your lips curled down to a frown and your eyes seemed void of any emotion. Taemin quietly remained on the couch, waiting for the sound of water hit the floor. It puzzled the man that he didn't hear music coming from your end, usually your shower times would always have music in the background. The bathroom was your studio and you thought that the shower was loud enough to hide your singing, but this time it was silent. At that moment it clicked in Taemin's head that you were really not happy.

Filled with enough resolve to pull an all-nighter, Taemin would try to make you feel better, even at the cost of sleep. He might as well tidy up and create a cozy space for you, grabbing the plushies that were resting on the windowsill and throwing them to the bed.

As he was chaotically, setting out the comfy pillows and blankets, the string lights and the scented candles, Taemin noticed the mess of clothes, roughly kicked under the bed along with a pen cap. He thought of the situation as odd, investigating the clothes and noticing that it was one of the dresses he bought for you. White silk with lace trims and pen marks just at the hem.

Taemin put two and two together and dropped everything he was doing so he could sneak to the bathroom to see if his assumptions were correct. And it was. He managed to crack the door slightly and through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he could see parts of your body, covered in pen marks, specifically in writing and he didn't need to read it to know the contents of it.

Often, during your 'low' days, instead of wallowing in sadness and damaging your health, you would write the demeaning thoughts that raptured your brain. The comments were harsh, hurtful and downright despicable, but they were words to yourself and usually at the end of the night, Taemin would carefully wash away those words, filling you with words of affirmation and making sure that you knew how amazing you are, how strong you are, how beautiful you are and how grateful he is to have a partner like you.

"Amore? I'm coming in.."

The voice snapped you out of your zombied state, looking up to see Taemin, open the door a bit more as he watches you carelessly scrubbing at your thigh trying to get the writing off. Your body spin slightly to hide yourself, you didn't want him to see you like this. In your head, you have been doing so well, but after being bailed on, your insecurities were set to over 9000 and with so many female idols professing their crush on Taemin, you suddenly felt unwanted.

The feeling of the warm shower felt nice against your skin, but Taemin's timid kisses on your shoulder had caught you off guard, suddenly feeling as if fire coated your body. "Don't take my job away from me", his husky whisper, caused the hair on your neck to stand and soon your body was shifted to sit on the edge of the bathtub next to the shower.

You looked up again to see that Taemin had not taken off his clothes, subsequently getting soaked, as he adjusts the shower head so at least the stream could reach your feet from where you were sat. His hands grabs the sponge and soap and began working on the space just above your knees. "If you had told me, I would have dropped everything..."

"I don't want to be that type of person who disrupts her boyfriend's schedule.."

"I don't care. If I had known that you had a bad morning, I would have re-scheduled everything for after Japan.."

"It's fine amore... It's just a stupid overreaction.." your voice was a low whisper barely audible but there was a hitch on your throat that let Taemin know, it was anything but an overreaction. In part, he could tell it was his fault.

"So what did you write?", he asks despite having already read the legible parts before he scrubbed it off.

"Oh you know.. the usual stuff.." you began, feeling at ease as most of the ink had faded, becoming illegible enough that you or Taemin couldn't read it. "..mostly, how much I hate you.", you finally teased.

"That's fair. You could hate me all you want. But, I still love you", Taemin beamed despite letting out a defeated sigh, his hands carefully massage your calves with much earnestly as his head lowers to plant a trail of kisses on your thighs.

"You sure? Am I not too.. much?"

"Never..." Taemin placed an arm on either side of you, propping himself up so he could kiss your lips, pushing a little harder at your reciprocation. "All.. I ever wanted.. All I ever needed is here in front of me", he breathes out slowly, staring at you as your foreheads press together.

"I'm sure... you have said that plenty of times.." you sighed defeatedly, pulling away so you could grab the sponge and continue scrubbing at your arms, bending it at odd angles to get everything off.

You were no stranger to letting Taemin be fully aware of your insecurities and fears. You have been together for a while now and maybe his enlistment helped you stay secure, but now that he is out an about, it kind of itched at the back of your head. You weren't conventionally the type of girl that Taemin had relationships with. He is deceptively close to a lot of the female stylists, and heck up until recently, worked with an ex until the end of the 'Guilty' promotions.

"Don't speak like that.. I hate that you think that you don't deserve being loved.. especially from an idiot like me". Taemin's words were so adamant and full of intent that it caught you off guard.

There was a moment of silence that clouded room and Taemin took the opportunity to rid your body from any more nasty words. You watched him closely still trying to decipher the faded letters on your skin, frowning as he makes his own assumptions and then frowning at you disapprovingly before leaving kisses whenever he successfully scrubs a bad word off. As he turns off the shower, you observed how clothes were sticking onto his body and you couldn't help but admire how he kept his physique.

Gods. I don't deserve you. You let out a scoff, laughing to yourself of how stupid you were feeling. But seeing Taemin look equally hurt, washed all those worries and anger that was directed at him.

He flashed an endearing smile towards you, crouching down so that you were at the same eye level. "Y/N-ah, I will spend the rest of my days, trying to show you how much I love you.. if you'd let me", his last words were cut off by him placing another kiss at your lips, settling himself in between your legs. quickly wrapping your legs around his waist so he could pick you up.

"Woah, woah wait, Taemin, I'm still drenched. We're both wet mops!" you squealed as your body get lifted from your seat, wrapping yourself around Taemin's torso, trying not to slip. See he was surprisingly strong. You had thanked Minho for that, and you weren't necessarily lighter than Taemin either, being on a thicker side but he swears he loves that about you. More to love, he says.

You both giggled like little school children as Taemin carries you back to the bedroom, while in your head you cursed yourself for needing to go back out to clean the trail of water droplets before it causes an accident. But by the time your body had been dropped onto the fluffy blanket that Taemin had set out, all thoughts had left your head. The room was surprisingly warm and warmly lit too. Your head tilted back to see the string lights had been set up and the smell of peonies and vanilla covered the room. You were so distracted, you didn't even see Taemin trying to herd Kkoong and Daeng out of the room as he closes the door behind him.

It didn't take long either, but soon you found yourself under Taemin as he crawls on top of you, staring into your eyes lovingly. He couldn't help but be mesmerized at how much you were like a ray of sunshine to him. He would never let anything harm you. Not even himself.

That being said, on closer inspection of your body, he could tell by the faint bruising on the intimate parts of your body, that recently he had been rough in bed with you and while you didn't complain, he was aware he needed to show his affection and need for you in a more gentle manner this time. "Amore? Can I love your body as well please?" he asks so sweetly that you could only cup his face, and turn your head away, trying to not get embarrassed.

There was something pure about every time Taemin asks for permission. Usually he takes what he wants and it drives you insane (in a good way), but when he tries to be more loving about it, it felt like it was the first time for both of you; playful, clumsy, shy, always asking if things are okay and whether a line was crossed. But Taemin had done it so beautifully where sex was at your own pace and intensity, at moments like these, you were in charge, not in the dominant sense, but in general. Yes, he'd still dominate you, but it felt different. Instead of being the obediant submissive, that succumbed to the naughty wiles of your boyfriend, you felt like you were his only air to breath, a goddess to worship.

Taemin did revel when you are like this though. To see you flushed on the bed, when your legs would twitch and rub against each other when his finger would graze down your torso. Delicately, he would trace down from your lips, down your neck and over the hill of your breast and down your stomach. It was tantalizing and almost overbearing for you to handle. His movement was light as a feather and would apply enough pressure to on certain parts to bring you back to him.

Quickly, Taemin peels his wet shirt off his body, sighing in comfort before turns his attention to you again.His body shifts a little bit, lowering his body onto yours, bringing his lips to your ears. "I know this isn't enough to make up for tonight.. " his low shuddering voice, caused your to mewl, rolling your head aside, exposing the areas, you needed him to stimulate.

Slowly, resting his weight on your body, he leaves tantalizing kisses on your neck and collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name as if it was the only word he knows. His devious hands roam the sides of your body before quickly grasping the back of your knee on one leg and pulling it up to wrap around his waist. The movement caused his hips to thrust gently, making you feel through his sweatpants, his bulge, protruding and grinding onto your naked core.

A bare moan barely escaped your throat before Taemin occupied your vacant lips, weighing down in the kiss with so much need and urgency. You were suddenly in a daze when he left your lips and targeted your breasts. Just a little nip made your body almost sit up but Taemin shot down that reaction by keeping a firm palm just on the middle of your chest, essentially, holding you down.

Taemin had always played like this, being so agonizingly slow and unpredictable and his tongue darted out, lapping at your nipples before sucking on the area around it. Your back arches upward, feeling the built up tension forming in between your legs and suddenly you were need to feel something more and not even grinding through his sweatpants is going to cut it.

"Amore.. please.." you whimpered shyly, turning your head to stare at the wall, using one of your hands to cover your face.

"Hm?"

"Please take me.."

"I don't think you're being serious", he lets out a soft giggle, teasing you as he sits up, trying to shift down the band of his sweats, pushing down his boxers as well.

Seeing his dick pop out all the sudden made your eyes roll, biting your lip and mumbled your initial statement under your breath, horribly failing at controlling yourself.

"Oh.. I guess, I should put this away then.." his voice was so playful that it ticked a nerve.

"Oh for the love of god Taemin, please!" your tone was a mixture of desperation and annoyance, but as you tried to sit up to scowl at him, Taemin with his best effort, pinned you back down on the bed again.

Taemin was holding you down by the shoulders, boring a hole through you with his eyes, but you were so flushed and excited that you couldn't even look at him in the eyes. Your body however was telling a different story as your legs have parted, allowing Taemin to slot himself in the middle, now with shaft pressed in between your bodies.

Carefully, one of his hands, held onto yours, bringing up just to the side of your head. His other hand reaches down and guides his member just to your heated core, gently pushing himself in until he was fully engulfed in you. The slow spread made you wince. Naturally with Taemin's busy schedule, there wasn't really enough time to have sex constantly and that left you feeling pretty tight, as if you walls forgot the shape of his dick.

"Oh...fuck", he hisses, if it felt too tight around him, god knows how it must be for you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to take it slow?"

Your head feverishly shakes from side to side, assuring him that you're okay, gently patting your hand on his arm, mouthing the words 'keep going'.

One slow movement out and Taemin quickly thrusts his hips, causing a jolt in your senses, covering your mouth with the back of your free hand to prevent any loud noises. Your boyfriend frowned, adjusting himself so he could finally lower his torso on top of yours.

"No no, I want to hear you", following through his words by resting head in the direction your face was pointed at, close enough that his ear was pressed against your lips.

Wasting no time, Taemin moves his hips again, finally hearing the soft yelp that left your lips, whimpering needlessly as your body feels overwhelmed with how you were coming undone beneath him. Every time he snaps his hips forward, you could feel your legs raise each time, groaning as he hits new depth in you in this manner, which made you mumble profanities into his ear.

Snickering, Taemin tries to reach upwards, grabbing a pillow before kissing you gently on the lips, his sudden slow pace winds you down before fully pulling away.

"My my amore.. look how wet you are" his eyes practically shined seeing your legs spread, seeing how your region was throbbing from suddenly feeling empty.

"Shut up..." you could only manage to whine before you felt his hands snake under you, pulling your hips up so he can place the fluffed up pillow under you.

As he attempts to push your hips and legs further up and closer to your chest, so he can scoot himself closer to you, your hands immediately dart forwards, digging your nail into his arm to catch his attention. Taemin slightly raised his head, his eyes were so dark and like a mist of lust had clouded over them and he was trying to hard not to lose control around you.

You could only flash a sweet smile before struggling slightly to raised you hand, enough for your fingers to caress his cheeks before using your other arm to lever you upwards, enough so that you could reach to tug at Taemin's hair before pushing his head down slightly.

"Clean me." the soft request from you was met with a low growl from Taemin before smirking at you. He was more than happy to comply, quickly shuffling downwards so his face was mere inches from your groin.

"Say it again...", he whispered,, casting a cool breath on your pelvic area, slowly blowing a trail further down, waiting for your words.

"Please clean me, amo---ahh", you could barely finish your statement before Taemin's tongue dart out, giving your clit a tentative lick, placing the flat muscle firmly against it. He loved how you moaned uncontrollably. He knew how much it took within you to ask him to basically eat you out. While you had no issue sucking his pretty little soul out of his dick; eating you out at your request was not something you did often. It usually got you going quick, and the orgasms you would experience is far from your general orgasms, you knew that, he knew that.

It wasn't long before his lips cascaded downwards, forming a suction at your entrance and happily sucking up the trail of wetness that managed to form and drip from your core. The way he lapped his tongue around the entrance of your pussy could drive you insane. but Taemin being Taemin, he couldn't help himself.

Mustering enough strength, he finally hoists your legs around his shoulders, while he sat up to a kneeling position. Taemin's arms wrapped so tightly around your waist, not only to keep the lower half of your body upwards, but he was ready to devour you.

It was already hard on your to almost balance your weight on your shoulders and if it weren't for Taemin's grip around your form, you would have been rendered helpless, quivering, when his tongue descends into your pussy, twirling his tongue for a bit before attacking the main prize once more, back to your clit. You had been so overwhelmed that your bud was so sensitive to any type of friction and when Taemin decided to continuously flick at it with his tongue before giving it a quick suck, its like hot white flashes burned into your eyelids.

You wouldn't last long in this state, not that it mattered to your boyfriend, he was more than determined to let you orgasm in his mouth. "F-fu..ck, Taem... fuck.." you could only muster two words repeatedly as your legs almost clench around his head and suddenly you had enough strength to indeed balance your weight on your shoulders, arching your back and needlessly grabbing onto his dark locks.

In response, Taemin's efforts were doubled. "Cum for me". His words vibrated through as his hold went from around your body, to white knuckle death grip on your hips, making sure you couldn't escape even if you tried. And there you would finally grace his tongue with your orgasm as your legs twitched endlessly and a squeal finally breaks free from throat. He would diligently lap it all up, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

"Mm, such a good tasting girl" Taemin chuckles before finally letting your body drop to the bed, letting your catch your breath. "What do you think Amore? Should I finally fuck you again? Or should I make you watch me show you how amazing your body is?"

His questions piqued your curiosity, you obviously wanted nothing more than Taemin in you. You've been so needy for him that not even rummaging through your collection of sex-toys could please you, but because you took to long to respond, it was practically obvious you wanted to see what the second suggestion meant.

The devilish man, finally smiled, leaning down to give your forehead a quick peck before shuffling to the other edge of the bed, holding your hand and guiding you to sit with him on his side. He motions for you to stay where you are as he gets up to scoot the clothing rack, meant for robes/towels/clothing ready to be worn for the day, aside , revealing a wide full body length mirror.

Quizzically darting your eyes between your reflection and his, you were snapped out of your confusion when Taemin gently lifts your head by your chin with his finger, leaning down to capture your lips, softly moaning your name out.

"My love... my life...", he's doing it again. The low rumble in his voice, the voice only you hear in private. Desperation, desire all molded into a sweet tone as he kisses down your neck and out your shoulders. "My sunshine.... Y/N.. Amore", he continues on as he moves back to the bed, kneeling behind you as he pulls you just slightly back from the edge, enough so that you could lean back and rest on his chest.

Equally, Taemin's frame shrinks just slightly so he can bury his face on the crook of your neck, lavishly decorating it with kisses and little nips to stir a sound out of you. A hand reaches down between your legs, fingers tauntingly circling around your clit once more before a lone finger knocks at the entrance of your pussy, slightly pushing in.

That sensation alone was enough for your head to rock back against Taemin's shoulders, mewling slightly with your eyes closed, while his actions beforehand was weird (to you at the very least), all those questions and worries were out the window when a second finger joined the first, gently spreading your apart. It wasn't his dick, but by God was Taemin talented with his fingers. Being skilled in playing the piano only meant good things for you, naughty things for you. Taemin eagerly pumps his digits on and out of you before hooking them to look for a sweet spot. A spot that would knock out your senses before you knew it.

Once you let out a breathless gasp, he knew he had found that sweet spot and continuously massaged it, stimulating it, all the while you had not even noticed a third finger already in you, stretching your tight hole more than you could ever dream. The slick noises your pussy made drove Taemin insane. The fact you could feel him grind his hard-on on the small of your back, drove you insane. You feel the hard muscle twitch so hard behind you, it was practically slapping against your skin and the thought of it plowing in and out you, had you soaking.

It didn't take long but your legs were fully spread open, one leg raised up on the bed and the other still somewhat planted on the bed with your foot on the floor, on your tiptoes. You had become a whimpering mess only chanting your mantra of Taemin's name and God. You tried so hard not to clamp your legs shut because it could be game over if you tightened around his fingers, but something in your started stirring and the pressure built up once more.

Taemin uses his free hand to move your head to look at the mirror, whispering into your ear. "I want you to watch... I need you to see", and with that he shifted his weight, focus and energy on the hand that pleasure you. He pumped in and out of you one last time until his middle and ring finger were knuckle deep into you before hooking up and down in a crane like motion.

You finally mustered the energy and attention to look at the mirror. Oh. So this is what he wanted you to see, to make you see how much he knows your body, how much he coveted it.

"I want you to see how beautiful you are.. how much I burn for you", he callously whispered into your ear. "Look at yourself amore, look at us.."

Like he said, because he was sitting behind you, you couldn't see his face, but now you could see, how your mewls excited him, how when your lips part to sing his name, it caused him to bite his lips, and when your head would roll to the side, he would take a deep breath in, inhaling and absorbing your scent. There was something in his demeanour and actions, everything you did had an effect on him and oh boy his damn eyes. His damn eyes gave him away. He looked at you like you were his reason to live, he looks at you like he was the fucking luckiest man on earth because you chose him. Despite the ups and downs, he had you and to know that he could witness you like this, it was perfect.

While your head may be resting onto his chest, face slightly away, your eyes were still fixed on your reflection. There was something hot about it. To see yourself come undone, a whimpering broken mess on the merit of his fingers alone.

His arms and general hand was still, but you could feel his fingers manoeuvre wildly in your and suddenly those squelches became more audible. His spare hand roams around your torso, grabbing at whatever as he is in deep focus trying to achieve what you didn't know your body could do.

As the pace of his fingers intensify, so did your breathing. Suddenly it was ragged, quick paced like you had ran a marathon and the slight brush of his thumb against your clit, was the final catalyst that sent you to a different type of nirvana. The pressure you felt was not just another orgasm. You watched your reflection as Taemin had managed to make squirt, spraying onto the floor and mostly pooling in his hand. But he didn't stop there, he quickly pulled out his fingers out of you, quickly brushing his hand like a fan over your entire pussy and clit , making the spray more dispersed eliciting more than just a squeal, it was more like a guttural scream that had your whole body convulsing.

The moment had you collapsing onto the bed, narrowly avoiding Taemin, as you try to catch your breath, half rolling your torso around the bed. "Holy... good fuck..." you gasped out, suddenly your mouth felt dry and your throat felt drier. "Wha.. what the fuck amore" you let out a low chuckle, slightly bewildered that happened.

"Soon it won't just be my fingers that makes that happen" he giggles, reaching over to give your ass a little smack. "How about it Amore?", his body turns to face you slightly.

Your head whips to look up at him and his erection standing proud, you were so dazed that you didn't even expect your body to move on its own accord. Suddenly you were on your knees and elbows, on all fours, hunched over and eagerly placing Taemin in your mouth. Gratifying him his own moment of pleasure. After what you just experienced, this is the least you could do to thank him.

Once your lips had formed a seal, enough to make a pop when you pulled away, Taemin whined. It wasn't just you, him too, sensitive aching to feel bliss. For a moment the thought crossed both of you minds, you were only sucking him off to give your pussy a break, but none of you could complain. Well, Taemin would, but feeling the back of your throat with his dick sent him on whirl. He didn't even need to hold the back of your head to keep you down, you were so willing already to take as much of him in your mouth.

It took a lot of self-control not to grab your hair and push you down so hard that you couldn't breathe, but eventually Taemin buckles, his body arching forward as he braces himself on your back. The motion of your tongue swiping on the underside of his dick before puckering your cheeks in to create the sweet vacuum he would empty himself in.

Soft groans would only escape Taemin now as you head repeatedly bobs up and down his shaft, tantalizing the tip with your tongue, playfully placing kisses on his pelvis as you move to pump him with your hand. He straightens himself, head rolled back, slowly losing the ability to stay in control and you could only look up to see his chest rising and sinking rapidly each time your grip tightened just enough. The way his adam's apple with also bob on his neck as he struggles to speak. "N...no..."

"Do you want me to stop?" your voice steeped in panic.

Taemin shakes his head, chuckling in amusement.

"D-did I do something wrong?", now you sounded worried, shifting to sit up in the same kneeling position Taemin is in.

"Relax amore.. tonight was supposed to be all about you..." he whispered.

You yelped as he grabs you by the shoulders, pulling you towards him as he throws you down onto the bed, quickly positioning himself on top of you in a straddle. His hands navigate to search for yours before clasping and pinning them on either side of your head. You both giggle as you faux struggle against his grip, attempting to lean upwards to peck the corner of his lips.

"I'm serious.. Y/N, tonight is all about you, I'm here to make you feel pleasure.. love... joy... all the good things in the world, my amore" Taemin cooes as he looks down at you.

His eyes were so different again. There was glimmer in those chocolate pools that captivated you and the way he smiles at you made your heart skip a beat because gosh, his smile would be the solution to any shiity day possible. The way he would laugh, or pout when he is being a bratty boyfriend; the way he would nonchalantly do gentlemanly things without even you asking him to do it.

"Taem..you don't... you don't need to do all of that. I already know it.." you sighed as you managed to slip your hands away from Taemin's hold, finally allowing your arms to hook around his neck and pull him down. "You're such an idiot.. but I love you so much Amore" you giggled before pecking his lips.

Taemin smiled once more, deeming that one kiss was not enough, going for another one. Then another one. Followed by a third.. a fourth and essentially you two were back to making out again. Ravenously chasing each other lips, how your tongues would battle for dominance, or how you two would bite each other's lips as a way to communicate. A quick nip would be a 'please I need you', a long swipe of the teeth would be a 'show me how much you want me', but a long bite, followed by the pulling of the other lip was a 'i'm begging you'; and that is what would happen, round after round, your lips would nibble on Taemin's lower lip, hungrily moaning for more as your body begin to roll upwards against him.

Taemin shuffles once more, guiding your legs so he can kneel in between them, dotting hurried kisses up and down your body, letting out a soft growl as he pushes your legs back, allowing to align himself at your entrance, agonizingly dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, bumping against your clit from time to time, making you carelessly whimper in anticipation. "Should we pick up where we left off Amore?"

You could barely respond a 'yes', he didn't give you enough time to but the pleased and relieved moan you let out as you feel his dick slowly entering inside you, lets him know, it was time. He buck his hip, gently adding more force behind his thrust to gauge how sensitive you are. But as you were so relaxed and lost in the pleasure of being filled, he picked up the pace.

The two of you get so high of the primal way Taemin fucked you, like his life depended on it. The way your walls clenched around him in a periodic rhythm in time to his thrusts drove Taemin to moan your name. You like it when he does. He gets so whimpery and cute. He wouldn't be like this if he used other 'terms' of endearment, but by god, he just fucked you the same way.

Soon your hips were rolling to meet every thrust, almost pushing him in deep inside you again and it made you see stars. Your eyes would roll back, the same way your back would arch off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as Taemin would slow his thrusts, pulling out fully before slamming in again, in one quick motion. When it felt like his thrusts were causing you to slightly shift away from him, he would grab your wrists the laid on your side, keeping you still, in place as the slow deep thrusts cause you mind to go blank.

You couldn't tell, but you were barely keeping it together. The strings of nonsense you manage to let out from your lips was inane babble to Taemin's ears. You didn't want him to fuck you like this. You needed him to be closer, on top of you, so you could whisper sweet nothings into his ear. To tell him to go slow, to feel every inch of each other.

When Taemin tried to pull out for another big thrust, that's when you leaped into action, immediately sitting up, only to hook a hand around his neck, and pulling him down with you again, staring into his eyes. "I need you close... to... me" you panted.

The man smirked slightly, supporting himself on his elbows, whilst his hands were busy playing with your hair, pulling strands of your face, that way he could study the small expressions that decorated your visage whenever he thrusted. When it was a quick one, your eyes would shoot open, lips slightly parted and inaudible scream would leave you. When it was slow and deep, your lids would be half hooded, lips reddened from how hard you were biting it and delightful moan was soft and music to his ears.

Your body would only continue to squirm and writhe in pleasure as Taemin moves his hand to cup and your breasts, gently pinching your nipple before slowly and softly dragging his nails down the side of your body, reaching to pin his hand between your ass and the mattress. Every time his thrust had you lifted off the bed, he would slap your ass gently causing an excited giggle out of you. "Oh it sounds like some wants their ass red.."

Another giggle as you nod you head, looking up at Taemin with doe like eyes and feigning innocent face, which drove him wild. How could his sweet love pull such an angelic air around her while agreeing to having her ass slapped about. It was a good tactic to get what you want and you want nothing more than to feel like you could lose you senses as Taemin pounded into you.

Taemin raises himself enough so he could bring your legs together again and in one motion, flipping you around so you were on your stomach. Not needing to be told what to do, you tried to keep yourself as flat to the bed as possible, except for the slight bed in your back to perk your ass up in the air, wiggling slightly to taunt Taemin.

The man could only smirk, testing your tolerance by giving a gentle slap and listening to your pleased mewl. He places himself behind you, slapping each cheek with his dick before spreading you apart once more. Taemin wasn't stupid, he knew why you liked this position. Not only can you have the satisfaction of your cheeks being marked, but with your legs closed tight and in this bent form, you were impeccably tight. Tight enough that Taemin would have second thought fucking you in this position because it almost felt like he was breaking your walls down.

A slow hiss ripped through Taemin's teeth as he insert himself, groaning profanities. It felt tighter than it did, when you two started earlier on and at this point, he might not last much longer. Like instinct, Taemin's hands placed themselves just on the base of your spine, holding you down as he proceeds to move his hips, causing your to moan wantonly into the matress. It was erratic and aimless, you didn't know what to feel, but the pressure of being held down and being fucked in angles and depth that you didn't know could happen, your body was almost begging to release.

In your position, you swing your arms to stretch in front of you, grabbing hold on the blanket and gripping at it whenever Taemin used his weight to pile drive into your aching core. The groans and mewls and fully turned into a fully vocal and resonant cries of pleasure. Taemin had a kink for your sinful moans and you will scream the house down for both of your pleasure because you are starting to become overwhelmed.

As your head tries to turn to look back at Taemin, you catch yourself, your reflection in the mirror. Ass perked up in the air with your own personal god, fucking you like the world was about to end. Watching Taemin's reflection as he drops his all into his thrusts made you wetter than possible, Is that how we look like.. Is that how slutty I look? Fuck.. look at him, he looks so good fucking me like this. You were so enchanted by the view, you didn't even realize Taemin was looking at you through the reflection.

"Don't we look good amore?" he groans with a quick thrust. "I told you, see how beautiful you look like this" Another thrust.

It's not like you haven't watched porn, nor have sent countless of masturbation videos to each other before, but there was something deeply erotic and sensual about how Taemin's movement would have a ripple effect on you and the sight of his face as it contorts in pleasure, how his soft lips would part to moan your name before cursing under his breath.

Shyly hiding your face behind your stretched out arm as you continue to look in the mirror. "Amore.. I want to see you cum in me..", you hummed before crossing your legs and bending your knee to raise them up, essentially keeping Taemin pinned close to you.

"But first..", he slaps you ass as he feel the heel of your foot bump against his backside. "It's time for you to scream my name again".

Taemin adjusts his knelt position, and now focusing on pumping his dick in and out of you. He kept on hand applying pressure on your lower back to hold you down while the spare hand took turns in slapping each cheek, or carelessly drawing lines down your back with his nails.

It suddenly got too much as the thrusts became shallow but effectively rubbing against you sweet spot, making you cry out his name. "Oh fuck... amore... Taemin.. please". The more louder you got the more wilder the thrusts were and this time, Taemin's hands were at your hips practically slamming you onto him, each time causing you to shudder uncontrollably. "F-fuck.. fuck.. fuck.." you drawled out as the eruption of your orgasm is finally about to hit like a double deck bus.

Overwhelmed, slightly broken, the culmination of multiple orgasms back to back did lay bearing on the intensity this orgasm brought. Whilst the hight pitch scream of you lover's name filled the room, it hits you again, the sound of the loud squelching and slight spray that dared to slip Taemin' out of you. What's worse is you had your eyes open and you could see it in your reflection how intense that was for you. Warm waves of euphoria washes over you and Taemin could see it in your eyes that slight moment where daze hits and you felt that post-orgasm numbness fog your brain in an instant.

"Told you, you'd do it again...and not by my fingers this time. You did so well amore" Taemin's words of affirmation brought you comfort, although you weren't sure it was processing in your head fully.

However despite how tingling your body is, how your legs quivered as your orgasm basically washed over Taemin. Your walls pulsated, tightening further around him and it was enough to tip him over the edge.

You would continue to watch Taemin essentially lose himself, a mixture of focus and tiredness encompass his face. His eyes hooded and clouded with ecstasy. His rapid breathing mixed with the frustrated grunts, he was all too close to getting to the same state as you.

Taemin's head would throw back again, groaning nothing but your name as he would have exploded out of you mid thrust if it weren't for your legs pinning him closer to you. You used the last of your strength to keep him in places as he empties himself in you. "F-fuck. Y/N-ah", he groans as his body keels over, his now sweat ridden forehead resting on your back.

There was a moment of silence that felt like eternity as both of you catch your breath together and Taemin finally pulls away, resting against the headboard and smiling at the sight that graced him.

"Stay still amore", he finally breaks the quietness before getting up.

He slowly guides and manouvers your body around, still bent over but now you were back at the edge of the bed, but with your back turned against the mirror. Taemin sat beside you and gently patted your ass. "Do you want to see how creamy you are amore?" he teased.

With a puzzled look, you attempt to twist your torso, so you can half turn to see what Taemin meant. And creamy you did. The imagine of you slightly spreading yourself to see the final mixture of both Taemin and yours, pool slightly out of your entrance, dripping onto the bed.

"I will never get sick of seeing you filled up.." Taemin giggled, talking to you through your reflection. He beamed up once more as he took the opportunity to let you see him lean over and naughtily nip at your cheek, slapping it once you let out a pained moan.

You laugh as you push Taemin down on the bed, scooting over to straddle him, quickling teasing him by pinching his cheeks and trying to tickle his sides. "If you keep on filling me up mister.... we'll end up having a responsibility nine months later.." you huffed slightly.

"Then maybe..." Taemin's devilish grin pops before, using his hands on your waist and pulling you upwards closer that you end up sitting on his chest. He looks down to see the trail of your orgasms line his torso. He tentatively licks his lips before gently biting his lower one.

"You idiot.. eating me out now, is not going to 100% stop a pregnancy.." you laughed, slightly flicking his forehead before dismounting him. You grabbed one of the blankets and wiped Taemin's chest free from your debaucherous sins, before throwing it aside and settling in beside him.

"Hey Y/N-ah... "

"Mm?"

"I love you..."

"I love you too."

"Next time, tell me when you are having your lows so I can catch you and make you feel safe... " he mumbles softly, turning to face you as his arm drapes over your body for a hug.

You pursed your lips before smirking at him, getting the weird feeling of being annoyed because he is being so damn cute and aggression is kicking in. Your hand reaches up to aggressively pinch his cheeks.

"You are such a cheese. A baby cheese. My cheese", you sigh contentedly.

"Yes. Your baby cheese" he chuckles before lowering his frame so he could nuzzle against you, resting his head on your chest as you begin to hum and play with his hair.

"By the way.. can you lie for me and tell the rest of the members I'm sick? It's not much, but lets have that date.. at home tomorrow...or well.. when we wake up.." Taemin mumbles half realizing the time.

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"It's okay. You're worth it..." he slowly drifts off followed by the soft sounds of his snores.

"Okay, Amore... tomorrow, it will be a day just for us.. "

[skzpixie]

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

Scene 1: Maniac world tour 2022 V live with her brother 

Kai is sitting on a couch in an unfamiliar setting, pictures of her family barely seen with her old as hell phone.  Kai: Hello!  She giggled, waving her hand around excitedly as a greeting. She looks down at the tablet with the live pulled up, watching comments.   Kai: I’m in my childhood home, that's why it’s so weird looking.  Someone off screen: It isn’t weird looking!! You’re weird looking!  Kai glared at the person off screen  Kai: This is why I’m the favorite child, Bo. I don’t interrupt you when you're working!  Bo: Because I refuse to let you near it, roach  Kai: I hope you die in the worst possible way, Fei Bo  Bo: If it means getting away from your ugly face, I'll gladly take that chance  She takes off her slipper and chucks it at Bo off screen. You could tell by the way he immediately yelled after.  Kai: MOM!! He hit me!!  An older woman off screen: Bo, don’t hit your sister!  Bo: I didn’t DO anything!! She hit ME!!  Kai giggles at the chaos unfolding in the kitchen, her mom scolding her older brother who was glaring at Kai. 

Scene 2: Instagram livestream titled “Changbin simp club” 

Kai is laying in her bed, watching the stream go by, bundled in blankets  Kai: Oh my god! This reminds me of the bubble conversation I saw—Yes, I use bubble, but I’m forbidden to post on there. Something about “Maintaining idol image”, which is BS but anyway.  She sits up, brushing the hair out of her face  Kai: OKAY! So, I keep seeing posts about Changbin going around, and my lizard brain is going crazy at some of the pictures. BIN!! Get in here!!  The door opened, letting in a beam of soft light against her purple lights. Changbin unceremoniously plops himself on her lap, facing her stomach. Kai runs her hands through his curly hair.  Kai: So, you guys know I have a thing for muscles, right. I mean, look at this man  She picks up his arm, squishing the muscle before biting his Bicep.  Changbin: Hey!  He whined, before blowing air onto her stomach, causing her to laugh hard.  Kai: Okay, you can go now  She pressed a kiss to the area she bit, and he walked out, closing the door  Kai: Now, his boobs- 

Scene 3: Kai and her affinity for man boobs 

Kai: Hanji!!  She runs up to him in his diesel shirt w/ the boob window. They were filming a skz talker, and she didn’t realize before it was too late  Han: What- HUH??!  She cups his chest and sticks her head inside it, effectively motorboating him. She walks away, satisfied and Han just stood there in shock 

It was during SKZ talker 48, when she was getting her makeup done, Seungmin walked over and sat on her lap, shocking the artist. She rolled her eyes and groped his chest, getting a squeak from the man. Said man ran away after calling her a pervert. 

During the live show (The one where Hyunjin and Lee Know did the troublemaker challenge), Kai is told to do a dance challenge with Changbin and Chan.  Kai, in English: I'm with the big titty gang  Chan: huH?!?   Chan chases after her and slings her across his shoulder. 

An episode of Chan’s room, Chan was talking about how clingy Kai was  Chan: Oh yeah! (He laughs, all shy now) She is big on the chest area, for some reason? I don’t get it, but-  He gets cut off with Kai running into the room and jumping on Chan in his chair. He does a little scream, Kai shoving her face into his chest while whining  Kai: Don’t give away my secrets, boob man!  She falls off the chair hard and ran out of the room, cackling as he looked after her, perplexed 

Scene 4: Young Pixie being a menace without realizing it 

Kai: Minho hyung!!  Kai is in the haunted house with the other members. She is partnered with Lee Know and Han  Lee Know: Kai-ah! It’s improper to call your elders hyung when you are a girl  Kai stares blankly at Lee know.  Kai: Would you rather me call you motherfuc- 

During the English debate, she is put on the team with less English speakers to make it more even.  Kai: (Mocking the Australians when they laugh at their team) PrAwN oN tHe BaRbIe  Felix, right back at her: Oh my god, Stephanie, do you want to go out to the mall today? (Imitating a valley girl accent)  Kai: That’s not even the right accent! Do you want to meet your ancestors? (She holds up a fist, getting hysteric laughs from her members) 

Kai is watching her members greet the audience, and when it was time for her to introduce herself, she froze, forgetting her line completely(She just had to introduce herself)  Kai: Hello, my name is Bang Chan and you’re watching Disney channel (Proceeds to do the Disney Channel logo) 

Kai starting the trend of her members mocking JYP. Their first performance, she is seen in the background imitating JYP’s singing of their debut. 

[moiravim]

Healing

Basil Stitt x teen!reader

Tw: mention of suicide

Basil is your dad and after he's struck by lightning you take care of him and help him heal.

Basil had adopted you just a year or two before the 'incident'. You lived with him in his apartment, so when he was outside for just a bit too long you got nervous and went to check on him.

You find him passed out on the floor with a large burn on his face. Nausea overwhelmes you as your body shakes in fear of loosing your father.

"Dad? Dad!" You call out as you crouch down next to him and try to shake him awake. He shifts a little bit doesn't wake.

You sigh, thankful that he's alive before trying to drag him inside. He was heavy, but you didn't want him to get hurt any more. You layed him down on a rug, unable to lift him onto the couch or a mattress.

You run into his room and bring back a blanket, which you wrap around him.

You sit and wait, eventually becoming too tired and falling asleep with your head on his chest.

You jolt awake from a nightmare. Your father had lost his mind. He had hurt himself in ways unimaginable. You cried when you realized he wasn't next to you and jumped up to look for him.

You checked the balcony first, scared he had jumped. When you went back inside you found him looking in the mirror.

"Dad!" You gasped as you ran up to him and hugged him. "I was so scared, I had a dream that I lost you... I'm so scared" you spit out as you start to cry.

He hugs you back, still looking at his face with a look of shock.

You feel the need to watch over him. To make sure he takes care of himself. The dream felt much too real to ignore.

So that's what you do. You take care of him and help him learn to take care of himself.

Anytime he starts to rage or act on his intrusive thoughts, you distract him. Either by putting on the television or thinking of a game to entertain him.

When your dad called his girlfriend to break up with her, you took the phone and explained everything to her. At first he was mad at you but eventually he'd be thankful.

It feels almost as if your in charge of keeping his life together. He often got pissed off and started breaking things and you were the only one there to calm him.

He cries and apologizes to you anytime he tries hurting himself or snaps at you. He feels like he's bad for you and wants you to leave him, but you refuse.

Basil makes you go get food for him because; "I don't want them to see my face. Please, yn". You always give in.

Eventually you try convincing him to go with you to the grocery store. You insist that you can't go alone.

He refuses but after about aweek he agrees. He likes the thought of going with you since he doesn't want anything awful to happen to you.

You start to get ready to go out. You're excited because this is the first time you've gone out with your dad in weeks. Your thankful he agreed.

So when he goes out with a paper bag over his head your confused. It doesn't even look that bad, his scar looks cool to you. But he refuses to leave without it.

You sigh and say; "okay". You grab his hand and walk through the streets with him to the grocery store a few blocks away.

It was embarrassing but you didn't want to upset him even more. He was already going through a lot. And he was slowly getting better. You didn't want to ruin that.

The two of you restocked on groceries when you got home, Basil put everything away and threw out the trash in the fridge.

It was a big step. It's been a while since Basil hadn't done anything in days and you were almost proud of him.

Things started to get better from then on. Eventually his girlfriend came over and Basil tried to explain everything to her.

She felt bad for getting so mad at him after seeing that what you said was true. He really had gone downhill and she hadn't even seen the worst of it.

Basil continues healing and he starts to become a better father. He starts taking care of you instead of the other way around.

He's forever thankful for you and has realized that it's his time to pay you back.

He gets back to work and puts the both of you in Therapy together. After his money starts to become stable again he absolutely spoils you.

He just wants you to be as happy as you used to be, before all this happened.

A/N: I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T WATCHED THIS IN LIKE A YEAR SO IT'S PROB INACCURATE. but I love him too much I had to write this. 😈😈