#at least you CAN work and it’s not so bad that you can’t that’s a privilege

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Florist's Least Favorite Holiday

Steddie || wc: 1.7k || rating: T || tags: fluff, this is a real thing that happened to me so I wrote about it

Valentine’s day is fucking awful. It’s the worst day of the year, and this year’s no different than the last five Valentine’s days Eddie’s worked in the floral shop.

Eddie’s stripped the thorns from over a thousand roses in the past two weeks, sorting them into buckets by color. The best part about his job is usually bringing a design to life, picking the perfect flowers to create an arrangement like a work of art. Yet somehow, Valentine’s day manages to suck the life out of that too, with little to no creativity between each one-dozen red roses arranged in a fake crystal vase.

Prepping over a month in advance, Eddie has taken almost four hundred orders for pick-up and delivery for the tiny, backwater town of Hawkins. They’re a small shop, with only himself, Chrissy, and Vickie as permanent workers. Thankfully, this year they were able to hire some temporary helpers to blow up balloons, make candy baskets, and take deliveries. Even with the help, that still leaves everything else to the three of them.

Regardless, he’s busting his ass. The newbies have left for both rounds of morning deliveries and the first round of afternoons. Chrissy’s working the counter while Vickie fields complaints. This leaves Eddie to wander the floor, helping confused husbands and boyfriends find the right pick for their spouses.

Working with customers to find something they’re happy with isn’t so bad. He likes guiding them towards answers to questions they didn’t think to ask. Like what their spouse wears, how their home is decorated, what their favorite color is. Every detail helps, and Eddie is, quite genuinely, always happy to help someone who asks– nicely.

He’s on his way back to the counter with an empty bucket in his arms when he spots a guy holding a few roses. Eddie watches, momentarily transfixed, as the man sticks his tongue out in concentration, swiping it over his lower lip. His brow’s furrowed, glancing back and forth between the single-stem lavender and pink roses in the display case in front of him. 

Eddie can’t blame the guy, honestly. There’s over twenty different colored roses to choose from this year. Chrissy really went above and beyond to haggle with their suppliers. They’ve got the best of the best, truly something to brag about. 

He sets the bucket down underneath a display table so it’s out of the way as he heads over to help. Eddie must catch his attention.

Bright lights from the display case reflect the light hazel tone to his russet colored eyes and shines golden against his softly styled brown hair. A fine dusting of moles across his face and neck perfectly complement his tanned skin.

The prettiest thing in a shop full of pretty things. A goddamn angel.

Except he’s wearing high-top Nike sneakers like the jocks used to wear, along with tight acid-washed jeans, and a grey Members Only jacket. The guy screams straight, ex-jock, fuck boy, even more evident by the two separate roses in his hand as he eyes up a third. 

Still, he’s a customer in need. And Eddie is nothing if not a humble servant.

“Can I help you find something?” Eddie asks, only slightly more casual and flirty than his typical customer service voice. 

The man’s lips part into a soft ‘oh’ as he stands and stares at him. Eddie quickly glances down at himself, scanning for stray stems or petals hanging from his apron. There’s nothing there, at least nothing worth gawking at. Maybe he’s got something in his teeth? Shit, he should’ve checked first.

“Uhh–,” the man says, intelligently, interrupting Eddie’s own internal spiral– “I was just looking at, you know.” He gestures to the buckets of roses without taking his eyes off Eddie. “I need one more, and can’t decide on a color.”

“Three roses, huh?” Eddie says, the joke rolling off the tip of his tongue before his mortified brain can prune it, “One for each girlfriend, that’s sweet of you.”

Fucking Christ. He wishes he’d kept the bucket of water to drown himself in, like this day can get any worse.

This beautiful, angel of a man scoffs at the unbecoming joke and yeah, Eddie can’t blame him. For someone who not only prides himself on his customer service skills, but also his charm, this is a royally large fuck up.

The man grabs the lavender rose, holding it out to Eddie along with the two other pink and white ones already in his hand. “This is for my best friend. This one–” he holds out the pink– “is for my adopted sister.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, before the guy cuts him off.

“And this one–” he shows off the white rose– “is for my Gran. I’m stopping by the cemetery on my way home and thought she’d like it.”

Forget drowning in a bucket of leaf water, Eddie deserves to be crushed under the weight of a million roses, thorns tearing him into tiny little pieces. 

“Right,” Eddie huffs, annoyed with himself. He scrubs his hands roughly over his face, like he can erase the embarrassed flush burning up his neck to the tips of his ears. “I’m so sorry, man. I have no idea why I said that. It’s just–” Eddie waves his hand around the store– “it’s been a long day, and sometimes I think I’m funny when I’m really, really not. I’m not normally this awkward, and I’m typically much better at my job.”

At this, the guy smirks, like watching Eddie squirm is entertaining. It’s the least he can do, if his misery makes the man feel better. He eyes Eddie up and down, so slowly that Eddie feels like his skin's on fire. Probably the display lights... they can really heat up some days.

“Can you ring me up?”

Eddie nods, thankful how quickly he seems to let the entire confrontation go. They make their way to the counter, Chrissy eyeing him as he asks her to switch for a second. She eyes the customer and nudges Eddie, where he notices a playful smirk on her face. Jesus, she’s nosey. He only rolls his eyes as she walks off.

Doing his best to avoid eye contact, Eddie focuses solely on wrapping up the flowers in the pretty, heart-printed paper they bought specifically for the day, and ties a matching colored bow to each package.

He feels the unrelenting urge to fix this, unsure why it matters so much to him. This guy most likely won’t even be back until next year, just like the rest of the customers he’s helped today. Eddie shouldn’t treat this one customer any different because he’s cute.

And yet.

“I actually think you’re really sweet!” Eddie blurts, thrusting the packaged roses into the guy’s waiting arms. “Shit, I meant it’s sweet you’re buying them gifts. I didn’t mean you’re sweet. Not that you’re not sweet, I mean– goddamnit.” 

He’s smiling at Eddie, like this is all an adorable spectacle and not the worst experience of every Valentine’s day Eddie’s ever had. God, that fucking smile makes Eddie’s insides melt.

“Really?” His voice is playful, if yet a little shy. Eddie buys into it, of course he does, desperate to make up for his flailing. 

“Yeah, definitely sweet– adorable, even. Positively charming.” Eddie’s on better footing now, watching a rosy blush bloom underneath tanned freckles. There’s a line of customers grumbling about the wait, but Eddie doesn’t care, not so long as he gets to keep staring at the ray of sunshine smiling back at him.

His smile turns coy as he locks eyes with Eddie and says “I’m single, you know."

Eddie can’t think to respond over the roaring static in his ears, brain going into full shut-down mode. Did he just–

“What?” And Eddie’s back to being a total buffoon.

It must be cute though, because the guy laughs as he leans forward to grab one of the shop’s business cards next to the register. He writes something on it, then hands it back to Eddie who flips it around in his hands to read it.

Call me, and thanks for your help.

♥️ Steve

There’s a phone number listed below the man’s– Steve’s– name. An actual, honest to god phone number. From a man who looks like he could work in Hollywood for a living. 

Eddie can feel his own face splitting in two with how hard he’s smiling. He reads the simple note once, twice, three times before he remembers where he is and who’s still standing in front of him.

Steve looks hopeful, eyes flitting between Eddie and the note as he fiddles with the bow on one of the packaged roses. 

“Yes,” Eddie practically shouts, glee saturating his tone. “I’ll definitely call you tonight. Well–” Eddie glances around the shop, spotting the scattered empty buckets, piles of dead leaves on the ground, and the stack of unprocessed delivery tickets– “maybe I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And Steve nods, like it’s that easy, and shyly answers, “Can’t wait,” before heading out the door, sending a dorky little wave over his shoulder as he goes.

Somehow, Eddie manages to recover enough of his higher brain power to work the rest of the day. He falls back into routine: boxing vases, filing orders, dumping rotten plant water, scrubbing buckets, and organizing the back cooler. It’s almost midnight by the time he gets home, slightly earlier than he expected.

His feet ache like they always do, and he’s so emotionally drained that Eddie thinks he could go the rest of his life without talking to another customer ever again. Except he thinks, fiddling with Steve’s note, maybe there’s one customer he'd talk to again.

Tomorrow, though. Definitely tomorrow.

divider kudos <3

[rafesangelita]

♡ deciding to take a ride on the ‘tunnel of love’ roller coaster at the annual valentine’s day fair, rafe happens to catch you before it starts, conveniently locking himself in next to you. annoyed, you tell yourself you’ll be out and away from the man once the ride is over but (un)luckily for you, it just so happens to break down, leaving you two stuck together until it’s fixed..

warnings: one sided enemies to lovers (reader is the one who can’t stand rafe lol), forced proximity, teasing, flirty banter, slight angst (just a teeny tiny bit, it’s literally almost nonexistent), light fluff

a/n: now presenting… ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE’ 🤍 my town just so happens to be having a valentine’s day fair.. maybe (hopefully) i’ll go!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.4k

[7:57 PM] bestie ♡: it looks like kelce is going to take me out for v-day after all!! don’t wait for me, i’ll catch up soon, promise!

you had just bought an extra large funnel cake for you and your best friend to share when you read her text, your sugary sweet smile faltering as you took a seat at a nearby bench. “more for me, i guess..” you sighed, feeling a little bit silly at the fact that you sat here by yourself when everyone who passed you by was either in a group setting or hand in hand with someone who was most likely their significant other.

you picked at the fried goodness, not really feeling as festive as you were just two minutes ago. “yo, y/n!” you recognized the voice before you even looked up, your eyes immediately rolling as none other than rafe ‘insufferable daddy’s money’ cameron made his way over to you. ‘please let this be quick..’ you whispered under your breath, not sparing the man a single glance as he plopped down ridiculously close to you.

“what do you want, rafe?” he smiled when he heard his name roll off of your tongue, his muscular arm draping across your shoulders as his mouth dropped next to your ear. “can you at least act like you could tolerate me?” you scoffed, shrugging him off. “no, i can’t,” you finally looked at him, “because even that is too difficult to do.” he swallowed thickly, feeling slightly defeated before he went for the funnel cake that sat in your lap.

“i’m really not that bad, i’ll make you realize that soon.” rafe was also too confident and cocky for your liking— more reasons you could add to your seemingly never ending list as to why you think you two would never work out.

“i highly doubt that.” rafe was licking powdered sugar off of his fingers when you met his gaze again, your eyes flickering down to his tongue. the one thing that you couldn’t put on your list was that he wasn’t hot. anyone with eyes can tell you that rafe was insanely attractive, but of course, you’d never admit that to him out loud.. or so you thought. “you’re staring.” he smiled when he saw that your eyes stayed trained on his mouth, a smug expression taking over his features.

you blinked away, deciding you had enough chit-chat for one night. “in your dreams, ‘cameron.” rafe watched you get up from your seat, gladly taking the funnel cake you basically shoved into his hands. “why, thank you.” he took another piece, popping it into his mouth. you flashed him a fake smile before adjusting the strap of your crossbody purse. “i’ll see you around!” he called out, waving obnoxiously in your direction. “no you won’t!” you whispered to yourself, deciding to explore the fair a bit more.

little did you know conversation between you and rafe was far from over.

you walked around the fair grounds for almost fifteen more minutes before you had decided you were better off at home eating some greasy takeout and having a rom-com movie marathon in nothing but your comfy pj’s.

just as you were on your way to the exit, a flashing heart with the words ‘TUNNEL OF LOVE.. find your lover inside!’ caught your attention. deciding you’d at least inquire about it, you walked up to the ride operator and asked away. “excuse me! hi, i was just wondering what does the whole ‘find your lover inside!’ thing mean?” the woman lit up as if she had been dying to answer this question.

“so basically there’s another roller coaster coming from the other side, and once you two meet inside, the ride will stop for two minutes before coming back out to the respective entrances.” she explained. “so it’s like speed dating?” you smiled, the idea enthralling you. “yeah, that’s exactly it!” she nodded. you weighed out your options and decided a little excitement wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“i’m suprised you don’t have a line, how much is it to get on?” you took your wallet out of your purse as she replied. “if you have a full-access wristband it’s free, but if not then it’ll be five dollars exactly.” you handed over the small bill, smiling to yourself as she let you through the metal gate. “it looks like two people can fit in here—” just as you stepped in, rafe came running from the opposite direction.

“stop the ride!” he shouted, his chest rising and falling as he bent over to catch his breath. you blinked. “it’s not even on, you drama queen.” taking a seat, you were about to pull the metal bar over your lap before he shouted again. “i’ll give you fifty bucks if you let me get on with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest, not expecting the ride operator to actually let him in. “seriously?!” you gasped when he walked through, flashing you a wink.

“sorry!” she pushed the guardrail over you and rafe until it locked in place before starting the ride. “this will all be over in two minutes.” you glared at him, trying to scoot as many centimeters away from him as you could. “that’s fine with me.” he shrugged. he leaned back in the cart, red and pink flashing lights illuminating the space in which you two rolled into slowly.

rafe kept his eyes on you, watching as you avoided his gaze. “why don’t you like me? serious question..” you sighed, finally giving him your full undivided attention. you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. “what?” you acted like you didn’t hear him the first time, wracking your brain for any kind of answer. he smiled teasingly, pointing a finger at you. “i asked you why you don’t like me and you can’t even answer me!” you waved him off, facing the other way to hide the smile on your lips.

truthfully, you didn’t really know who rafe was. like just by himself as an individual. you knew that his friends were all assholes though, including the one who your best friend was willing to drop everything for. “i hate your friends,” you started, “and you are who you keep company with, sooo..” rafe cleared his throat as the roller coaster came to a stop. the inside of the ‘love tunnel’ was lit up with baby cherubs along the walls, red hearts and fairy lights adorning the interior.

“me and my friends are very different from each other.. i think you’d be surprised.” you hummed, adjusting the pendant on your necklace. “maybe..” the other roller coaster cart strolled in from the other side, the seats empty. “i guess it’s a good thing that i tagged along, since you would’ve been all by yourself if i didn’t.”

you glanced over at him, his blue eyes standing out in the pinkish lighting. “..yeah, i guess.” rafe’s head shot up as soon as the words left your mouth. “you really think so?” he scooted closer, the action making you laugh. “don’t push it.” you warned him, in which he held his hands up defensively. “okay, okay!” rafe had this smitten look on his face as if making you smile was his life’s greatest achievement.

“so you told me why you didn’t like me, which is fair, but i want a real chance at proving you wrong. can you at least give me that?” rafe hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, the hopeful look in his eyes making your heart melt into a soft puddle of mush. “hmm..” you pretended to think, the anticipation making rafe’s leg bounce. “okay. only under one condition though..” rafe nodded frantically.

“anything.”

“tell me why you like me so much when i avoid you like the plague, and never seemingly look in your direction.. like ever.” the man next to you snorted. “you want me to go down my full list? ‘cause we’ll be sitting here all night—” just then, the ride operator’s voice boomed through the intercom speakers from inside the tunnel. “hi, i’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but we’re having some technical difficulties and my electrician guy says it’ll be at least an hour or two before you could leave. i promise to issue a full refund once you two are off.”

you and rafe looked at each other half concerned and half amused. “..so, you were saying?”

[wingsdippedingold]

My rapid fire ACOTAR hot takes that y’all will hate:

I pray the pros don’t find this

I don’t ship Elriel or Elucien because I ship Elain with singleness and just traveling Prythian to learn about different plants and then settling down somewhere to become an apothecary. Is she aromantic and suffering from comphet in my head? You’ll never know

Nesta would not have eaten Lucien alive, I think she’d be tentative at first but then realize he’s not a threat to her then grow to enjoy his presence. They could have had a great romance that actually helped her grow as a person, unlike Nessian.

Nessian is a mutually destructive relationship. Cassian is too insecure to date someone who he thinks looks down at him. Nesta needs an emotionally supportive partner.

There was ZERO need to actively SA Feyre publicly to make her look subservient or as if she had a “claim” laid on her. The reasoning is weak, and SJM an Rhysand fans need to admit that they only defend it because they thought it was sexy, or because they self-insert and can’t make Rhysand actually look bad.

Tamlin isn’t a bad leader, but it doesn’t suit him. He’s much more of a people person than someone who would like to be removed from them and working on laws and politics.

Tamlin should be walking around the SC as they rebuild and see a woman directing townspeople on how to do so. Tamlin would admire her for being able to connect with people but also being able to govern well. They would have a romance and that woman would eventually become a lady and help Tamlin govern because she wants to make a difference and is good at that stuff. They eventually get married 💥

Canon Elain is my least favorite Archeron. I think she’s manipulative and worse than Nesta in her cabin behavior because she wasn’t upfront about it. She let Feyre think she was useless and kind, to later only throw her under the bus. Nesta is the one who went to the wall for Feyre, and Elain didn’t gaf about Nesta caring for her the second is stopped benefitting her. Elain even acknowledges all that Feyre did for them, and yet she still didn’t do anything

BUT to append to that, I totally get why she’s that way. It’s her only means of survival because since childhood she was treated as a doll with noice of her own. She can’t be upfront like Nesta because she won’t get taken seriously, so her only way to get what she wants is to manipulate people and use her niceness as a mask.

Nesta and Feyre have a closer relationship than Nesta and Elain solely because they were constantly arguing. Nesta “favored” Elain, but it was still distant, but she actively watched Feyre and treated her like a whole person even if it was poorly. I think this is also exemplified in their appearance. Feyre and Nesta look very similar, while Elain doesn’t look like them as much.

You can’t argue that Feyre’s childhood was traumatizing (it was) but then say that it had no negative effects on her development and ability to socialize.

Feyre is NOT good at reading people despite what y’all like to argue. She can barely read Nesta, a woman she’s known for 20 years.

She suffers from hubris and has a savior complex. For example, when the debtors came to cripple her father she notes that they only left after SHE cried and soiled herself. In her perspective she will always be the hero because that’s how she makes herself fell good.

Arguable my hottest take: I don’t think Nesta and Feyre had a power imbalance in the cottage to make their relationship abusive. In fact, I think Feyre held more power over Nesta, Nesta just didn’t acknowledge it/was mean so it didn’t seem like it. Feyre was their father’s favorite, was the breadwinner, and technically dictated whether they would get to eat. Feyre held control over her family’s survival, even if she didn’t want it, and they all knew this. It is specifically why Elain sucked up to her (a character know to jump to whoever has the most power at the moment and would protect her the most)

Feyre doesn’t act how she wants to, but rather as she thinks a good person would. She doesn’t want to hunt, but she does so because she thinks she has to. Many of her acts are “selfless” but are often shallow. She also thinks everyone wants to the helped the same way she would want to be.

To add to this, she doesn’t love her sisters. She doesn’t love them for who they are, but because of proximity. She even says to Nesta when trying to get her to come to solstice “but you’re my sister”

Feyre did not know love and it did not know her, and thus made her latch on to whoever gave her affection and she deemed as her own savior (Tamlin and Rhysand). Should she finally ever feel suffocated by Rhysand (though he has ensured she won’t), I wouldn’t doubt that she would run to another.

Feyre has 0 healthy relationships. ZILCH

By adulthood, Feyre’s illiteracy is no one’s fault but her own. As a child she didn’t want to ask Nesta, but she didn’t ask Elain or her father either. Even then they fell into poverty at like 9 and she still didn’t learn much so that doesn’t make sense. She refused Tamlin’s help and Rhysand literally had to force her to learn.

Rhysand’s character makes 0 sense when you consider her upbringing, family, friends, personality, and powers, and is just a product of SJM trying to write the morally grey ultimate love interest.

I’m on the fence about him being a master manipulator towards Feyre and the IC. I doubt Sarah meant for him to come off like that, but if he actually was it would be a masterful story and make his character feel more cohesive.

HOWEVER, if he was a manipulator I don’t think it would be that impressive for him to manipulate Feyre. She is naive and new to the world of fae, and she switches her opinions like night and day. She would be the perfect target. Again, this comes about from her upbringing and her own hubris.

The series should stuck to being a trilogy. Insert it drags on and makes new problems that aren’t even properly addressed

This was not rapid I fear

[cyber333angel]

thinking about gamer!violet x reader.. how cute she would be when she explains the lore of yet another game play that has a larger meaning to human life, and how game 2 was extraordinarily better than game 1 by many points including the change in graphics. she has you sitting in her lap on the game chair with her kitty ear headset on, that you made for her and is now the only one she will ever use, and playing on the matching pink controllers you both gifted each other on your anniversary. vi loves you, without a doubt in the world she would do anything for you but sometimes your girlfriend can just get so.. immersed in the game that she doesn’t pay any attention to you, leaving you to whine for her to notice you. “vi how much longer are you gonna play? m’bored and it’s been hours by now..” you say with a huff, straddling your girlfriends lap as you look at her. “i know, just one more round yeah? i promise baby” she says as she gives you a kiss on the lips, with the same excuse she used and hour ago. you get annoyed, all you want is to have her attention on you and she won’t even give you that. as if a light bulb appeared above your head you slightly perk up, coming up with an idea that will definitely catch vi’s attention.

“yeah im coming around the back, cover for me.” she says, oblivious for only a moment longer as she talks to her teammate. you were only wearing a pair of short n soft night shorts while in your girlfriends lap, which coincidentally made perfect for easy access to touch yourself. so you moved to have your back rested on vis chest, ass pressing against her lap.

you spread your legs a little wider and stretched the thin fabric to the side, other hand reaching around to rub around your clit. naturally this caught your girlfriends attention making her eyes widen like she had seen a ghost, “what are you..doing right now?” she moved her eyes from the game back to what was sitting in her lap back and forth. but no, she couldn’t give you attention before she doesn’t need to now. “it’s none of your business vi..” you panted out of breath as your fingers started to linger deeper into your cunt, index finger that was holding your panties circling your bud. “pay attention to your game!”

at this point vi could feel herself getting wet in between her legs, slightly fidgeting around under you as her focus on the game became faint, the character in her game going idle and her teammates wondering why her mic went mute all while she watches you like a needy puppy. “im done now! please let me help you..” she sounded so whiny with her hands not knowing where to go, she couldn’t put her hands where she really wanted to and she couldn’t rub one out even if she wanted to. you were sitting on top of her. it was basically torture to make her sit and watch her sweet girl play with herself like that.

“s’too bad vi, shoul-shouldve played with me when i asked..!” and boy was she regretting it now, her eyes were glued to the inside of your thighs, messy pussy glistening from how wet you were and all your girlfriend wanted to do was dip her hands there and taste it. she knows how sweet you taste, god this was so cruel. “fuck..babycakes just let me touch you a little. hm? please i need to so bad.” the least you allowed vi to do was kiss and suck at your neck, dark spots forming and adding to your pleasure. her pleads might have worked earlier because she just sounded so cute but it was to late. you were already cumming, a thin layer of slick was on your fingers as your thrusted in and out of your cunt, messy hole clamping your fingers down while your legs quiver on vis gaming chair.

“f-fuck vi m’cumming!” and you do, with a cry as you rub your clit furiously and close your legs unconsciously from the overwhelming feeling. without a doubt vi was soaked by now and neglected. “that wasn’t fair..” she looks so cute when she pouts that you can’t help but give in, getting up from her lap to straddle your girlfriend face to face. “I didn’t mean to bully you vi, we can go again! hmm?” you say covering her face with kisses as vi rest her bandaged hand on your ass, nodding with you.

yeah no she was definitely getting you back for that.

[revelboo]

Idk if you know this but wasps fucking. LOVE sugar and honey. Its what the adults usually eat iirc. Thats why Wasps usually go after bee hives (for multiple reasons, the bees become food for the larval wasps, its basically an all you can eat buffet, its also getting rid of competition, ect)

Anyways. All this to say: Waspinator finding the sugar/honey and being like "What. What is??? Smells weird, like antifreeze a bit. is it antifreeze?? (bc fun fact waaaay back in the day Antifreeze actually had a sweet taste that was super dangerous bc ppl would poison others with it so a bittering agent had to be added but like, i dont think that would be a thing for cybertronians so theyre used to mildly sweet antifreeze anyways-) Then he tastes it and is like OH FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOOOO. But sadly sugar is SUPER BAD for vehicles like cars and stuff. So i imagine poor Waspinator goes on a sugar bender and then comes to like "Wha happun...." and hes aching and feels AWFUL, sprawled out in the barn, covered in christmas lights from someone else's house and SO much dirt and sand from like 6 different states and the human is just like "So. youre awake. Get up, i got the powerwasher. You're COVERED in dead bugs, youre not coming in my house."

Oh, I love this!

Worker Bee Pt 19

Waspinator x Reader

• Inhaling because you don’t have the energy to deal with his misguided ‘dating’ right now or even to try and figure out why he thinks that could ever work, you yank your hand out of his grip and he makes a noise of whining protest. But you can flex your fingers now even though they’re sore. Magic, alien bug spit. “Waspinator, sweetie. I have to report in to my boss and get some loan applications processed or I’m going to get fired.” And he’s just staring at you, head tilting. You’re pretty sure all he heard was ‘Waspinator blah blah blah.’ Right. “If I get fired I can’t afford food or my house.” That he’s pretty much trashed. “I’ll be homeless.” There’s a reaction, antenna back and wings buzzing. “You don’t want that, right?”

• “No,” he growls, wings humming and flaring out slightly. Because no one is taking little friend’s hive away. And you reach up and pat him on the cheek. ‘Great. So you just go watch cartoons, okay? And be quiet,’ you say, nudging him into the other room and he allows it, because you’re touching him voluntarily. Settling himself on the couch, he fidgets with the skinny control stick that makes the screen work like you’d shown him. Can hear you talking to someone else on the little screen he’s forbidden from touching. Why do you sound different talking to them? Venting in annoyance, he fidgets before slipping out of the hive to patrol. Too agitated at the idea of someone daring to try and take your home, his home.

• Somehow you manage to convince your boss that you’ve not been checking in because you’ve been deathly ill. Too ill to go to the doctor. At least, you pray he brought that lie. Catching up on loan applications, it’s a couple of hours before the quiet really registers. Maybe Waspinator is just being good. Watching cartoons. Teeth gritting, you can’t make yourself believe that. He’s got to be quietly destroying something. Or rooting up someone else’s azaleas to drag in your house to go with the other one. Dating. How are you going to explain to him that’s not happening?

• Roaming the property, his wings tuck close to his back against the cold. Heading through the trees surrounding your home, he moves in a widening spiral and vents softly when he leaves the trees and comes across a series of black boxes. That smell sweet. Circling one and toying with it, that scent is somewhat familiar. Sweet and cloying. Transforming he leans his upper body on the box and uses his mandibles to begin chewing through it to get to that delicious smell.

• Startling when you hear a boom, you inhale. Then there are several more in quick succession, you save your work and get up. Know the guy closest to you is a bit trigger happy, but if he’s shooting at skunks again and you have to smell a dead skunk for two weeks straight again, you’re going to- the house is quiet. Swearing, you run to get your boots and coat after realizing Waspinator isn’t in the house. Why would he go over there, though? The old man is coming out of the woods, face ruddy and wearing coveralls and slippers, a shotgun in his hands when you get outside into the snow. “Are you out of your mind?!” You scream at him, going with righteous indignation. And the old man hesitates but doesn’t lower the shotgun. ‘There’s a monster wasp. I saw it. Tore up my bee hives,’ he says, turning in a circle. “You’ve seen some whiskey. You even hear yourself? A monster wasp?” Feel bad as you say, trying to convince him he’s crazy to get him to leave. “Get the hell off my property before I call the cops!” And he’s scowling at you, insisting he saw it as you dig out your phone in threat and he starts moving. How much are bee hives? Because you’re going to owe him. Waiting until you’re sure he’s long gone, you head into the barn.

• Groaning and shivering uncontrollably, his head lifts when the hay he’d burrowed into is dug away from him. And his little friend has come to see him, eyes narrowed. “Waspinator’s frieeeend,” he drawls, feeling absolutely awful and jittery as he snares you with two limbs and drags you into the hay with him, curling his altmode around you, limbs grabbing on as you wriggle, screeching that’s he’s sticky. Very, very sticky. And feeling not quite overenergized, but close. Processor miserably buzzing as he rests his head on top of yours and curls tighter around your warmth.

• “Let go!” He’s back in his awful giant wasp form and he’s curling up like wasps do when they die. Is he dying? And he’s forcing you into a ball, legs drawn up to your chest as his thorax curls up. He’s humming now. Is he singing? Wait. Is he drunk? Arms now pinned to your chest, you can feel whatever he’s absolutely covered in sticking to you, too. Beehives. It’s honey. He’s covered in honey and dead bugs. And you are, too now. Why? Why is he like this? Legs shifting against you as he slurs ‘Waspinator’s little warm friiiiend.’ Wondering how long it’ll take him to sober up right as he makes a funny hitching noise and you’re thrashing to get away when he shudders and does it again. “Don’t you dare throw up honey on me-Waspinator! Don’t you dare!”

Previous

[ponyojujuu]

not a drabble, list with thoughts!

most to least likely to get turned on when you wear their clothes (&team pt 2.)

not smut, but not fluff

slightly suggestive content mdni

you have been warned

nicho! nicholas loves this shit dude. i mean LOVES. not only is he a fucking fashion dork, so he’s already gonna wanna dress you up in his clothes. but he’d loose his mind if you casually just wore his clothes with nothing underneath. the way his baggy clothes would sit on your naked body would make him go insane. he’d probably even fuck you in his shirt. since he’s the jealous type he would probably offer you to wear his clothes when you go out because they’re baggy. likes that matching couple shit too. would fanboy over you in his clothes.

euijoo! euijoo seems like he has very oddly specific turn ons because he’s perverted. which is why this would definitely be one of them. i think euijoo had a huge thing with scents and would be obsessed with yours. he wouldn’t know at first how much he loves when you wear his clothes but after you return his hoodie the first time he’s ADDICTED to your scent on his clothing. i think he’d be really shy to admit that he loves when you wear his clothes but you’d find out eventually. because every-time you wear his clothes he’s instinctively really touchy and can’t stop staring. you know he’s turned on now.

jo! if jo is your boyfriend there’s no way you can do no harm in his eyes, he already has the patience of a saint there’s no way he wouldn’t love to share his clothing with you. he’d see you wear his clothes and be like, “is that mine?” “yeah.. sorry-” “no keep it” is how the conversation would go between you too. he’d instantly agree that his clothes look better on you and would start giving them to you before you could even ask/take them. jo gets flustered easily so the first time he sees you in his clothes it will turn him on and he won’t know how to react. he’ll get used to it eventually but i think he’d still be super attracted to you when you do this.

taki! taki loves this shit too tbh. i think he would have a dorky way of teasing you about it because his clothes would be so oversized on you and it would be laughable. also teasing how you always wanna wear his clothes instead of your own. but he’d actually prefer it that way, seems like he’d wanna fuck you in just his big t-shirt also. he would double take if you walked around the house with just his shirt and no underwear. underneath all the teasing would be him shooting you seductive glares.

fuma! i think fuma has bad self-control so he probably gets horny pretty quickly and hates being teased/seduced. so it’s not that you wearing his clothes wouldn’t turn him on, but then he’d have to rip them off of you and ruin his clothes because he’d much rather see you naked. he’s so chill and nonchalant though so what’s his is yours including his clothes so he lets you wear them. this definitely gets him worked up he just hates the disadvantage so it would either go two ways, he takes it off before your even wearing it for a few minutes or you just sleep/walk around naked. or well ofc in your own clothes LOL.

harua! i think sharing clothes between you and harua is really a normal thing which is why he may not get as turned on as the others. he probably likes when you wear his clothes out in public since they’re baggy and people won’t look at you too much(he gets jealous). but i think harua would really adore anything you do, so i think there would be certain times where he can’t hide his desires when you wear his clothing.

yuma! similar to fuma, i just think this gets him really sexually frustrated. because your teasing him with the idea of being fully naked under his big t-shirt there’s no way he’d be able to just stay still or continue on with the day like normal. he’d rather you wear his clothes after you guys fuck. that way he’s tired and your going to sleep so it doesn’t matter. he also seems like he might feel a little off-put if he goes into his closet and you stole his favorite shirt/hoodie and he can’t find it. if you really wanted to chill in his clothes, he’d let you, he would just be fighting a boner the whole time.

kei! i don’t know why but i just imagine kei will find this silly. because he’ll see you in his clothes and how oversized it is and think it looks funny because he prefers you in tighter clothes. of course at the end of the day it doesn’t matter, kei seems like the worshiping type so he’s gonna compliment you regardless. but i can just see him taking a ton of pictures of you in his clothes because he just finds it so silly that your wearing his clothes. but if you find them comfortable he’ll lend you all of them to see you smile. but i don’t really see this turning him on very much.

[suzukiblu]

Day seven and the final day of February’s first weekly WIP behind the cut; “the puzzle trap sex-room”. content warnings: past grooming, past sexual abuse, past statutory rape, past dubious consent, CURRENT unhealthy coping mechanisms, immediate fallout of sex pollen/death trap-induced sexual coercion, and a POV character who does not understand what the problem with any of that is, he’s FINE, Jesus, lay off already and let him live his life. and like, definitely internalized victim-blaming that said POV character is not actually recognizing as that. So uh, you know, just Kon’s … entire pre-YJ dating history, pretty much? Pretty much that, yeah. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Superboy just feels so gross right now. He feels so gross and so stupid and it tasted gross and Robin wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair no matter how fucking hard he tried to do a good job for him and then Robin called him a fucking whore while he was trying to save his fucking life and didn’t even say he did a good job and–and–

And Robin’s not some random-ass civilian or asshole supervillain, Robin’s–they've met before. They’ve worked together before, at least a couple times. They’d both literally saved each other’s stupid lives before tonight, even. Like, more than once, even! Superboy didn’t decide to get his stupid little hopeless-ass crush on him out of, like, all the fucking nonexistent publicity photos and paparazzi shots of the guy, for fuck’s sake; they actually know each other. Like–at least enough to have saved each other’s lives and like, significant chunks of both Gotham and Hawaii. 

And even after all that–even after all that, Robin still thinks he's not worth being nice to even when he actually wants to fuck him. Not worth using a condom for or listening to when he asks him not to do stuff or when he asks if they can do something different or–or–wouldn't settle for the fucking handjob, wouldn't tell him he had fucking condoms, wouldn't stop yanking his fucking hair–Robin thinks he's a mouthy bitch and a whore, but he wouldn't even let him have a stupid condom. The condoms he specifically carries to give to people, even–he'll give them to stupid drunk people and prostitutes who should've packed their fucking own, yeah, to any other kind of whore, but not to him. Robin doesn't care if he gets sick or if he just doesn't wanna get fucking come in his mouth or on his face or–or–Robin carries those for people, not–not–

Robin didn’t even kiss him first. 

But Tana’s nice to him, even though he’s so stupid that he can’t even figure out why everybody else is always so fucking mean.

Tana’d care if he got sick or felt gross or–or any of that shit. Any time he feels bad, she always makes him feel better, even when it’s over really stupid shit; even when it’s over nothing at all and she has to explain to him why he shouldn’t even be upset or–or whatever. Even when he’s made her really mad again and disappointed her again and–and–

Tana cares if he gets better or not, and nobody else even thinks he can.

And she doesn’t treat him like a fucking kid, either. Everyone else treats him like a kid, but only when they want to shut him up or ignore his opinion or what the fuck ever. Never–never for any other reason. Never for anything–else. 

At least if people wanted to treat him like a kid, they could be fuckin’ consistent about it. They could be, like–literally anything except whatever was most convenient for them at the time, whether he had any opinions about it or not. He wouldn’t even–he wouldn’t even really care about somebody doing that, he’s pretty sure, if they were just fuckin’ consistent about it. 

He doesn’t know why–like, that’s not a–he doesn’t–just, if they were consistent, then–if people treated him like a kid and were just–just–

But they don’t. Nobody does. 

So nobody fucking gets to. 

“Just–take a breath, Kid,” Superman says, because he apparently thinks he fucking gets to, the asshole. 

He doesn’t get to, though, so Superboy just grabs every light fixture he can feel in the whole stupid cave and disassembles them all. And it doesn’t even matter, obviously, because fucking Superman has fucking infrared vision anyway, but that’s not the fucking point. 

He just doesn’t want any of these assholes looking at him like that anymore.

[hitlikehammers]

unforeseen complications 🩸 steve/kas!eddie

“What’s wrong?” Steve doesn’t try to sit up again, knowing Eddie wants, more like needs to press against Steve like this because…they’d pushed the boundaries. Eddie had needed more blood than normal, because they’d skipped out on more than one quick snack-time. And Steve does feel the hit harder for it. It’s not a foreign feeling, though: the aftermath, beyond what his own body needs to recover— “We can’t keep doing this, Steve.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, kas!eddie, established relationship, angst with a happy ending, as in: eddie angsts about his new vampiric tendencies while steve has none of it, true love, blood drinking (just a little), terrified eddie (that he did steve any possible damage), long-suffering steve (who knows it’s all completely fucking FINE and also they’re dumb in love forever)♥️

for @steddielovemonth day eight: "I'll take care of you." "It's rotten work." "Not to me. Not if it's you." —Euripides

Steve is groggy, his head’s a little fuzzy and unevenly weighted in that way he can already tell will make him dizzy when he opens his eyes and tries to lift it—so he doesn’t, not just yet—but normally he sleeps this part off. Normally the side effects aren’t as sharp as this is already shaping up to be, because his body keeps him blissful conked out long enough where it’s all a little more of a dull roar that he can ignore while he gets through the day and slides slow back to normal.

And it’s not like it gets this intense that often; it’s in extenuating circumstances. Sometimes one’s they create for themselves, sure, but usually it’s some world-threatening shitfuckery that pushes the limits this bad. Like…at least eight times out of ten.

At least.

So it’s weird that he’s waking up before he’s due to shake off the worst of it, when said worst-of-it is still clinging to his skin, his eyeballs, the linings of his veins.

He tries to make sense of what he can feel through the fog: weight, mostly. Something heavy that’s not just his own body rebelling against regaining consciousness too soon. There’s…something on top of him.

Heavy.

Shaking.

There’s a sound, maybe, like…breathing but that’s shaky too and—

Oh.

Oh no, it’s not just shaky.

The weight on top of him’s fucking crying, and trying real hard not to be found out for it.

Steve would goddamn know what that sounds like, specifically. From a whole-ass lifetime of experience in his godforsaken family.

And Steve knows what his own fucking boyfriendsounds like in distress, so—

“Eds,” Steve doesn’t even have to push to open his eyes and sit up too fast because there no dizziness, no nausea he can’t work through when Eddie in need is on the other side of it; “what’s wrong, what happened, I—”

The hand on his chest is firm but awkward, because Eddie is still splayed over his chest, doesn’t seem to have any intention of moving at all.

“Lay back down,” Eddie’s voice is muffled in Steve’s skin; “save your strength, you’re still,” and yeah…muffled, but too rough, cracked down the middle; “you’re…”

More than cracked, fuck. Shattering.

“What’s wrong?” Steve doesn’t try to sit up again, knowing Eddie wants, more like needs to press against Steve like this because…they’d pushed the boundaries. Eddie had needed more blood than normal, because they’d skipped out on more than one quick snack-time. And Steve does feel the hit harder for it. It’s not a foreign feeling.

And the aftermath, beyond what his own body needs to recover—

“We can’t keep doing this, Steve.”

—is also not unexpected. Pretty fucking routine now. Steve’s even practiced enough to swallow down the urge to sigh.

Because, considering that Eddie is skin-to-skin, blanketed on top of Steve under about seven blankets, more than Steve even knew they owned as he shudders through something suspiciously close to sobbing while the tone of the words screamheartbreak: Steve would have every right to be concerned when it sounded a whole hell of a lot like his boyfriend was trying to break up with him.

The first time was a fucking doozy, sure. Second time even, that sucked too.

Now though, with it being fairly fucking routine for…close to a year, now, especially after rough runs like last night?

Steve’s kinda learned to take it as the sign of affection he’s come to understand it stems from, deep in Eddie’s too-soft, too-tender chest, always having been ready to feel so fucking much—Steve wishes he’d known it sooner. Maybe they could have felt less alone, together.

Whatever. They’re here now.

Though it’d been a pretty free-and-clear couple of months—Eddie had only crumbled so far as to have shaken in a corner in Steve’s arms for close to probably five hours one of the three or so times they’d had to stretch too much time between regular feedings—because when Eddie came back, when he appeared in Steve’s living room dripping the black sludge the Upside Down seemed to specialize in best—trembling and stammering and…be-fanged.

And Steve had just looked at him, gaped a couple minutes—which he stands by being wholly fair and justified—and then did the only genuinely sane thing he could have done, given the givens.

He’d pushed Eddie toward the nearest fucking bathroom, under some hot water, and cleaned him the fuck up.

And didn’t think—yet—about how warm it made Steve: the sight of Eddie’s naked frame under the spray as it slowly siphoned off the goo.

Nope. Not the time.

He was sick, though, that was clear, but Steve…he can’t explain even now how he knew to be cautious in letting anyone in the Party know that they’re friend, this singular lost member of their family had somehow crawled back to the land of the living. Because yeah, it could have been the fact that Eddie was cool to the touch. Paler than he’d been before. Barely had a heartbeat but was definitely alive enough to insist he was pressed into Steve’s heat every night, in Steve’s bed; to keep shaking, to wretch more of the black slime up until it was just dry heaving, and…

There were plenty of reason to have caused the hesitance. But it wasn’t any of that.

It wasn’t even how, after Steve slit himself on an envelope, Eddie had scurried to his side, made to lunge then cowered back, cried like he was in pain before saying the first words Steve had gotten out of him yet:

Please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry Stevie, please—

And Steve wasn’t immune to what spending every fucking night wrapped up in another body. A definitely not unattractive body. A body belonging to a personality that Steve was getting pretty interested in getting to know better—literally and…intimately, y’know, Steve crossed the bridge of being totally shocked by that after he’d less-than-half-mourned Billy fucking Hargrove for the sake of his and and literally no other reason—but. Yeah.

He’d have given Eddie anything, at that points while he was hoarding and harboring him, safe as much as selfish in this house. He’d have—

What Eddie wanted was the blood from his papercut. And…well.

The fangs make…wel, they made a lot more sense all of a sudden.

Eddie fought it when Steve dragged him to the couch and offered his wrist because the guy was sucking kinda pitifully, like, way too desperate on Steve’s fingertip and not in a sexy way—and Steve would actually really like to reach the point of it being a sexy way someday, specifically with Eddie, he’d already stopped trying to deny that to himself—so he pulled his hand away, cupped Eddie’s cheek (warmer, more color in it), brushed by accident against his jugular (a real pulse, and racing, but overtaxed, like it needed…more to work with and yeah, if Steve hadn’t made up his mind already that would’ve done the job, flat out)—and when Eddie whimpered, Steve pushed his advantage of having a full blood supply, dragged Eddie into his lap, tore his own bloody strips from above the veins he could see under the heel of his palm straight down and Eddie gasped, cried out, tried to scramble away—

But Steve shoved his wrist to Eddie’s lips—knew it was maybe dirty pool but…he wasn’t stupid. If Eddie needed blood, he…he needed blood.

And Eddie was reluctant, at first, didn’t try to pull away once he realized that Steve had got him in a pretty solid hold from the waist down, and he just was not strong enough right now, not yet but he could be, if he’d just—

Steve hadn’t been worried, but if there’d been reservations, like, if Robin had had any idea he was doing this and voiced her innumerable concerns: if Steve have been worried, Eddie’s presence of mind to even think to resist, to look at Steve like he was in pain to avoid the blood waiting on offer, specifically for him, it’s all he would need.

But seeing that Steve hadn’t even thought to be worried, he ultimately caught Eddie’s frantic eyes, leaned in and brushed his lips to Eddie’s, tasted his own blood as he whispered:

It’s for you, I want you to have it so that you’re okay, and his hand had braced on Eddie’s chest where that heartbeat was struggling, but wild, and he didn’t even dare to blink until Eddie’s tongue lapped accidental at the blood steaming down.

And the rest is…history.

Eddie had tried to set his own limits, but Steve’s old hat at being the victim of the Upside Down’s bullshit, or Russian spy craft at that; he knows when the blood loss is actually a concern. He keeps his hand to eddie chest, makes his own call when that pulse is strong enough to ease his wrist away.

Steve hadn’t been a fucking lifeguard, after all. He does know some things.

And so that had been…that.

They’d told the others, eventually, but just that Eddie was back. It was enough to prove Steve’s fears in and of itself—they already suspected Vecna, Eddie as a sleeper agent or some shit, two guns trained on him in an instant: and that’s without the blood…thing.

So they keep that to themselves. It’s definitely a contributing factor to how they end up in dire enough straits that Steve’s laid up a little after just some casual bloodsucking until eddies heartbeat finds its strength of rhythm again.

It’s not a big deal. Steve’s had so many migraines worse than this ever is.

Except for when it gets to how Eddie reacts. How he falls apart for fear, for Steve.

That’s the worst pain Steve’s ever known, every goddamn time.

“You were cold,” Eddie’s voice shivers as he raps into Steve’s chest hair; “to me, you were cold to me.”

“You’d just fed, and you were hurting for it,” Steve reasons; it takes Eddie time to warm back up when they spread the feeding out too long. “You’re still not evened-out,” he reasons; Dustin would have a good science-y name for it, but they…they can’t risk it.

Steve won’t fucking risk it. Risk Eddie.

He cranes his neck, keeps his eyes closed to make sure he doesn’t aggravate the feeling of being off-balance, but he needs to press his lips to Eddie’s temple, test the heat.

“Close though,” Steve smiles into the skin, then kisses with intent. He…he loves that he can give this to Eddie. He doesn’t think Eddie gets that part, thinks Eddie only sees it as taking, rather than a gift for Steve in return just as strong.

“Steve,” Eddie moans, shakes his head as more a messy swirl of matted curls; “we can’t.”

Again: it stopped being convincing months ago; but Eddie does sound particularly distressed.

Steve brings a hand to run through that unruly hair, careful. Gentle.

“You weren’t moving,” Eddie finally whispers; “I couldn’t see, I couldn’t hear,” and Steve knows his limits, knows that Eddie didn’t hear or see even with his enhanced senses now because he’d been frantic, and his own heartbeat and shot quick to pounding after being so weak—it always sets him off kilter for a second or two.

Steve cradles Eddie to his chest rig he re, so he can hear clear the heartbeat Steve knows is steady now, strong.

They’ve both evened out. They’re both okay.

“I can’t risk you,” Eddie breathes into the space where the beat hits hardest; “I can’t lose you.”

“So,” Steve nods, tucks Eddie under his chin a little tighter; “losing me by design instead is your solution,” he sucks his teeth, hums as if he’s actually consider such fucking nonsense:

“Yeah, cool, makes sense.”

He thinks the sarcasm drips just the right amount.

“Stevie,” Eddie whines, like it hurts, and Steve never wants that. But he might…need for it to, a little at least, to get the point across.

“We’ve been through this, Eds,” Steve breathes low; “I’m not actually looking to kick the fucking bucket here,” he knows Eddie won’t appreciate the levity but he can’t help it, pressed the curve of his lips to eddies scalp. “I’m much more interested in making sure you’re not ell enough and strong enough and safe enough,” and he reaches, then, to lift Eddie chin, to turn him, to look, to see:

“To stay with me.”

And like clockwork, Eddie’s eyes widen, darken, narrow and Eddie scrambles up, takes Steve’s face in both his open palms:

“Always,” he hisses; “nothing could make me want to be anywhere else, not ever.”

And Steve knows it. Knows he means it

“But Steve—”

And because Steve knows? He’s happy to cut this the fuck off at the stem, nip it in the bud, press a the same fingertip eddies sucked the blood from so many nights ago, that first time that started the rest of Steve’s whole goddamn life—

Steve’s more than happy to press that fingertip to Eddie’s lips, to shut him the fuck yo when he needs it.

“I grew up not knowing what love was,” Steve says simply, and eddies eyes flash red—only when he’s incensed do they do that, and Steve not-so-secretly finds it hot as fuck. “Except for knowing that what I got wasn’t it,” he shrugs; “or else, not the kind it was supposed to be. Benign neglect,” he flinches a little as other, harsher memories buck their heads and he knows he has to say something because Eddie sees him, Eddie will draw it out himself otherwise and…

“Until the times it wasn’t,” Steve murmurs and, well.

At least he gets another sexy-as-fuck flash of crimson in those eyes he adores.

“But I knew what I did have wasn’t right,” Steve’s quick to press on; “so even though I kinda started from zero on the learning curve, it wasn’t,” he bites his lip and it’s not even weird anymore, to revisit the journey even if it started less-than-happily.

Because Steve knows the ending. And how it’s not even an ending at all.

“I knew I was looking for something that sat at the opposite end of the spectrum from what I did know. What I had been taught,” and he grabs for eddies hands and gathers them under his chin to rest on, to just…look his fill of this impossible man he’s fallen for, that he’s more than happily given his life to all the ways he knows how.

“And once I unlearned the bad shit, and started finding the real deal?”

He waits for Eddie’s eyes to glitter just so, waits for his head to tilts just the tiniest bit before he leans up:

“Love is this,” Steve breathes against Eddie’s lips with real fucking meaning:

“Love is exactly this.”

“Nearly fucking dying because your freak-ass boyfriend has to drink your goddamn blood and—” Eddie tries to deflect but is pretty fucking shirt with it. Not least because there are tears running down his cheek. Not least because Steve knows now. What love is.

He’d just spoken on the truth.

“Not even close to fucking dying at all,” Steve reminds him with a playful eye roll and a squeeze of his hand; “save maybe how much it killed me when I thought I’d lost you before we had a chance,” and honestly: Steve hates thinking about how all of this was almost never know, never had, never felt.

Yeah: that fucking kills him, just to think.

“So add that into the love-column,” Steve grins a little, imagining the upgraded version of a ‘YOU RULE’ board; “this is love because you’re breathing,” and Steve kisses the little divot above Eddie’s top lip; “you’re safe,” and then he kisses, nibble Eddie’s neck;“your heart beats when there’s enough blood for it to move around,” and Steve’s not strong enough to resist nipping at the heady pulse between Eddie’s collarbones.

“You’re as alive as anything or anyone in every way that could ever count,” Steve breathes; “you’re here. With me.”

Then he leans back again, looks Eddie in the eyes:

“You care enough—”

“Love.”

Eddie’s tone is this sharp, unquestionable thing. It’s thrilling every time it comes out.

All the more, said around that one word.

“I love,” Eddie’s hands hold closer, more dear at the sides of Steve’s face again; “whether it’s enough or not, whether it ever could be, I fucking love you—”

“Then you love,” Steve picks back up, pecks Eddie’s lips because he can; “enough to check that I’m okay, when we do this, and it’s just a little more of a challenge than normal.”

Eddie looks like he’s about to choke on something.

“Challenge?”

Ah. About to choke on that word specifically; that tracks.

“I like a good challenge,” Steve reminds him, reaches to pinch his cheek, delights in how blood—Steve’s blood—rushes to the surface; “fills the gap from all the sports-playing.”

Eddie’s mouth moves around silent words for a few seconds and then:

“Normal?”

Steve doesn’t even try not to laugh. With glee, even. With wonder.

“Wild, ain’t it,” he asks, kinda fucking joyful; “who’d have ever thought Steve Harrington would find a love this big,” and he runs his hand over Eddie’s arm, shoulder to wrist; “this perfect, for everything he is, not what he’s gotta twist himself in knots to try and become,” and Steve’s voice gets lower, more earnest, more genuinely fucking grateful for…all of it.

For his Eddie.

“Who would have thought Steve Harrington would fall into a love that held his whole fucking heart in its hands,” he brings those hands to his chest, where they clutch automatic; “to do with what you would, to take as far as you liked,” and his voice goes low—they don’t know what’s been done to Eddie beyond the obvious, what life and death mean for him;

“To keep as long as you decided to want.”

Basically, Steve isn’t too concerned about the whats. He’s more concerned about Eddie having no shred of doubt, that Steve wants whatever it means, to be something they share. He wants whatever it means to mean the same for both of them, if it can. However it can.

Whatever it takes.

“Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, face ruddy, tear-strewn and mouth agape.

“I don’t deserve you,” he exhales, then breathes in, sharp and shaking; “and you deserve so much more than this.”

“Let me make the decision,” Steve says, sure in it. Maybe for the first time in his life, he has no doubts for anything involving what he feels for Eddie, and the truth of what Eddie feels for him.

“And since I made that decision fucking months ago already, I’ll save you the suspense,” he turns Eddie’s chin on the tip of a finger, one more time.

“There is no more than this.”

And Eddie blinks; blinks.

And then his strings are cut, and he collapses full into Steve again, this time gathering him in by every limb he can tangle, gasping and grasping and needing and desperate and kissing every inch of Steve he can reach.

“Fuck, I love you baby,” Eddie moans deep from the center in his chest: “forever.”

It’s a true thing. It’s a promise.

It’s an acknowledgement of what they don’t yet know, but can agree with all they are to share, together, equal.

For always.

“I know,” Steve tells him simply, pulse pumping only joy; “and I am always gonna know. I’m always gonna be here, to make sure you never forget.”

And Eddie’s face falls for half-a-second, before it steels with resolve, before his hands lace with Steve’s and smack them flat to Eddie’s heaving chest.

To Eddie’s pounding heart.

“Never forget here,” he vow sir; “it’s never a matter of not loving.”

And Eddie’s scared, still, in his eyes; Steve knows.

It almost means more, that he’s promising it all, nonetheless. With his whole goddamn heart.

“I know,” Steve reminds him the best way he knows; pressing closer, tighter to that beat.

“And I’m always gonna be right here.”

Eddie nods, closes his eyes and holds Steve one breath closer to that pumping blood:

“Right here.”

And that?

And that suits Steve more than fucking fine.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Whatever it is you’ve been doing

Written for the @steddiebingo

Prompts: Secret Date on the Kissing Booth bonus card and Date on the regular one

Rated: T

Tags: Omegaverse; Alpha!Steve; Omega!Eddie; Secret relationship, Courting rituals, Fluff

Notes: Set in the same verse as Whatever you want it to be.

Dustin Henderson is confused, and Eddie can tell that he's going to make it everybody's problem. 

He glowers at Eddie from under his hat as Steve herds his friends and him into the living room of Harrington Manor, frowns as they unpack their dice and gives snippy replies as Steve takes everyone's pizza order. He calms down a little after that, as they get started with their campaign, but by the time Steve returns with the food, his mood sours again. 

“Extra cheese and no pineapple for Wheeler,” Steve says, handing over Mike's order, then plops down on the couch, right next to where Eddie is sitting cross-legged on the carpet. “And these are for you.” 

Eddie blinks at the box that's shoved in his direction. Steve wiggles it, smile bright and eager. 

“Pizza knots with pepperoni,” he singsongs. Like he thinks it's charming. Like offering a guy greasy fast food in a soggy cardboard box and making bad sex puns is high-level seduction. 

The problem is it's working. 

“Keep your knots to yourself, Harrington,” he drawls, just for the heck of it, because the last thing that dork needs is to think he’s some sort of modern-day Don Juan. “I didn't order anything.” 

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn't stop smiling. 

“I know,” he says, opening the box and grinning at the audible rumble of Eddie’s stomach. “But I also know they're your favorite. C'mon, they're on me. We can even share if-” 

“What the hell is going on with you two?” Dustin blurts, slamming his hands down on the sofa table and sending their figurines scattering. 

Steve measures him with an unimpressed look and takes a bite out of his first pizza knot. 

“What d’you mean?” 

Dustin groans. Tugs on his basecap. Throws his hands out in a dramatic, all-encompassing gesture. Next to him, Lucas dodges to the side, narrowly avoiding an elbow to the face.

“What do I- … This! All of this! Why are we holding Hellfire at your house? Why are you buying Eddie food? Why are you two suddenly joined at the hip when you were barely even acknowledging each other’s existence two weeks ago?”

Eddie trades a glance with Steve before he turns back to Dustin with blank stare. It’s hard, because the kid’s left eyebrow is twitching funnily and he needs to muster up all of his willpower to not burst out laughing.

“Okay? I don’t get it, Henderson.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees around half a mouthful of cheese. “You’ve been nagging me about what a great guy Eddie is for literal months, and now that we’re finally getting along, that’s also a problem?”

“I wanted you to be friends!” Dustin whines. “Not- … Not whatever it is you’ve been doing! Hell, the other day at the gas station, you bought him a pen!” 

“Because he always steals mine and I thought he might like it,” Steve shrugs. “It was shaped like a dragon and had those little sparkly stones for eyes.”

Eddie smiles at him. “It’s a very metal pen, thank you.”

“See?” Dustin blurts. “That’s exactly what I mean! Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were courting!”

Next to him, Mike rolls his eyes. “Oh, please, they can’t be courting. Eddie’s a beta.”

Dustin gives him an scathing look. “He dated your sister and she’s an alpha.”

“That was before she presented,” Mike retaliates. “They broke up after that.”

“Hey, shitheads,” Steve says, pointing his pizza knot at them. “I didn’t break up with Nancy because she presented as an alpha. And you don’t gossip about other people’s love life. Least of all while they’re in the same room.”

Dustin looks like he’s about to argue, but Steve draws himself up to his full height and crosses his arms. The warning rumble that bubbles from his throat is so low it’s barely even there, but it still has the desired effect. The kids deflate and avert their eyes. Which is just as well, because if they kept looking, they’d probably see how Eddie has gone suspiciously red in the face and has started squirming in his spot. 

“Jeez, okay,” Dustin mumbles. “Sorry, I guess.” 

“It’s okay,” Steve says. “Now go back to your nerd game, I’d like you to go home at some point.” 

*

Mrs. Henderson swings by on her way back from work to pick up the brood, so Steve takes the empty glasses and pizza cartons to the kitchen while Eddie clears away the mess in the living room. He’s just assembled his notes on the campaign into something that halfway resembles a neat stack when a pair of arms wraps around his waist and pulls him back into a soft, warm body. Steve noses at the scent gland on his neck, even though there’s not much to smell now that Eddie is back on his repressants. Eddie still sighs and tilts his head to give him better access.

“Those little gremlins are too curious for their own good,” Steve mutters. Since his mouth is all but welded to Eddie’s neck, his voice comes out slightly muffled. It sends a pleasant shiver down Eddie’s spine and makes a familiar warmth stir in his belly.

“Tell me about it,” Eddie says, hands finding Steve’s and entangling their fingers. In the kitchen, some cheesy love song is blaring from the radio. Steve starts swaying the both of them to the melody and Eddie lets him. “You might wanna try and keep the sexy, macho, alpha act to a minimum though, if you don’t want me to pop a boner in front of our little sheepies. That, and the courting gifts.” 

“I’ve been so subtle about it,” Steve grouses, spinning him around and out before wrapping him back into his arms. “Goddamn pizza knots and pens. You deserve much better gifts. You deserve to be taken on proper dates.” 

“Hey now!” Eddie hits his chest. “Don’t insult the pen. I meant what I said, I like it a lot.”

Steve pouts, but his scent goes earthier and more intense, as always when he’s pleased. 

“Maybe we should just tell them,” Eddie mumbles into Steve's chest as they keep moving to the music. “They're two steps away from figuring it out, anyhow.” 

Steve gently pushes him away, so that he can measure him with a quizzical look. The pine needle note in his scent has gone sharper. More protective. Eddie realizes he's getting better and better at telling his emotions from these subtle shifts, even with his senses dulled by the meds.

“Would you be okay with that? You said you didn't want anyone to know.” 

Eddie shrugs. “They're a bunch of loud-mouthed little goblins, but they're good kids at heart. I feel like they'd handle it okay. And I'll probably need to come out about it at some point, if we want to continue this.” 

Steve frowns, unconvinced, folding him up in his arms and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. 

“When you're ready. When you're absolutely sure you wanna do this. Not a day earlier, okay?” 

A part of Eddie thinks he'll never be ready, but he knows that it's the scared and cowardly part that also thought he'd never open up to Steve. Another, more stubborn and possessive part of him wants to climb out on the roof and proclaim their courtship for all of this goddamn town to hear. Tell everyone that Steve is his just as much as he is Steve’s. 

What he does, in the end, is melt into Steve's embrace and kiss the junction of his neck and shoulder, grinning at the sharp intake of breath and distinct spike of arousal in his scent. 

“Okay,” he agrees. He'll be ready one day, and they'll figure out their way when the time comes. “But for now … take me upstairs?” 

More Steddie Bingo

[the-undeadwriter]

haiiiii if your requests are open could you please write something for the batfam with a he/they reader who's vigilante name is ghost, and who's going through a chronic pain flare up and feels bad about not being able to go out on patrol for a while, and have the rest of the batfam being really comforting and nice about it

ill love you forever

-🦈🔆 (so i can find this later)

Hi yes hello!!! Thank you for the request, hope I did it justice mwah

Requests are open!!

Warnings: mentions of medication! Brief mention of overdosing(once), Reader is masc, reader is a vigilante called ghost, general chronic pain discomfort, a few thought of feeling inadequate due to chronic pain… possibly ooc? Most of this was written before I went to sleep, spelling mistakes

Word count; 1,749 (!!)

Enjoy!

In your defence, you didn’t think it would be this bad.

Yes, you’d spent the past few days feeling shitty, taking as much pain medicine as you possibly could without overdosing or raising concern. Yeah, you’ve had to take so many breaks doing the simple things you love that you usually wouldn’t need to take, but you were sure you’d be okay to patrol tonight!

And, like you expected, you had felt fine before patrol. You suited up fine, double checked your gear and comms, started patrol…

It’s about thirty minutes into patrol that things start to go wrong.

Oracle had buzzed into your earpiece, voice firm and calm as she spoke into her mic. “Ghost, there’s a situation near you. A potential robbery. Think you can handle it?”

And, considering how close you were, it’d be silly if you didn’t try to do something. Isn’t that why you started doing this?

You’ve already changed course when you answer oracle, jumping from the roof to roof as quickly as you could. “Got it, on my way now.”

You hear a breath of relief on her end before the comms cut off again and you can hear the sounds of Gotham’s late night activities all around you as you hop off a roof across from the bank where this supposed robbery was taking place.

It’s easy to find a way in. It’s easy to find the group of two face goons who had been tasked with this crime. It’s easy to take them down.

Until it’s not.

Maybe you landed badly. Maybe the pain meds you’d taken hadn’t worked. But someway, somehow, things had started to go wrong.

You manage to take down the thugs, and you can’t help but feel frustrated at yourself as you open the comms line again. “Robbery’s been stopped, police are on the way. I…” You suck in a deep breath, leaning against your the closest wall. “I’m gonna cut patrol short tonight, Oracle. Pain flare up.”

A sigh. “Go home, Ghost. I’ll notify B.” You can’t handle the concern in her voice.

You mumble a quiet thanks before shutting off your communicator and pulling out your grappling gun and aiming for the skylight.

As you fly over the city, wind whipping past your face, you can’t help but huff. You swore that you could handle this. You told Bruce that you could patrol tonight. And now…

You reach to batcave quickly, at least.

Alfred is waiting for you, with a tray of refreshments and medicine. “Ah, Master [Name], I heard tonight wasn’t treating you well?” You groan, moving to sit on the closest thing— this being the large chair situated by the bat computer.

As Alfred sets down the tray beside you, he speaks up again. “Master Bruce and the boys have all been made aware of your absence, sir.” You curl in on yourself again. Great, can’t wait for that. You snatch up a sandwich and chew angrily, leaning forward and attempting to type up a report.

“[L/N]”

Spinning the seat around, you come nearly face to face with your youngest brother, Damian. Which… is odd, considering he’s supposed to be in patrol right now.

“Damian?” You mutter, standing from the chair and taking a few steps towards him. “What are you doing here, bud?” You notice that Alfred has disappeared, possibly returning upstairs.

Damian scowls, stomping closer and grabbing hold of your sleeve. You’re still wearing your suit, having not bothered to change. “Being the only sensible person in this house, it seems.” He mutters, practically pulling you out of the cave behind him by the sleeve.

You try to protest, citing the report you need to file, but Damian seems set on taking you to your room. He nudges you into the room and stands at the door, crossing his arms. “Get changed and then meet me in the theatre. Take your time.”

And then he’s gone, and the door closes.

Standing in your dimly lit room, you sigh. Guess you’ve got no choice but to listen to him. Little guy can be real stubborn. Just like you, huh?

Most of your clothes are soft. It’s practically mandatory, at this point. It’s times like these that you’re glad that Bruce was so willing to spend money on the people he cares about— your entire closet is filled with comfy clothes suited for lounging and relaxing.

Carefully cracking your door open, you can’t hear any noises. You don’t see Damian either… he must be in the theatre already.

The theatre isn’t too far from your room, just a couple hallways and one large room with multiple doors. It’s as you approach the theatre that the sound of voices reach you. It’s not quiet yelling, just… passionate conversation.

Yeah, let’s just go with that…

Cracking the door open and peering inside, you’re greeted with the entirety of your family arguing, surrounded by blankets and pillows.

Ah, so this was the plan.

Not everyone is here— Bruce and Tim still seem to be out— but there’s enough people in the room to make you feel warm. You still feel upset, of course, but you’re comforted by the fact that no one is upset with you.

You push the door open, stepping into the large theatre. Three heads snap to you immediately, arguing quieting down to a murmur. The others haven’t seen you yet.

They’re all sitting in a semicircle, blankets and pillows arranged on the floor for maximum comfort. There’s a few snacks on the far side of the blanket den, and the giant screen has been turned on, though nothing is playing yet. That must be what they were arguing about.

Cass smiles, urging you closer with a few gestures. Beside her, Damian’s face lightens when he sees that you’ve followed his instructions.

Settling down beside Damian and Jason, the others are finally aware of your presence and the arguing stops briefly for a few surprised exclamations.

Dick completely stops the conversation, moving closer to you and giving you a hug, one you lean into with a hum. As he pulls back, his expression seems unusually soft as he double checks you’re actually fine. “Hey kid, feeling a little better?”

The pain is still there, it never really goes away, but the pain meds seem to be working. If you had a leg compress or something you’d probably feel better, but you can manage without it for a moment. You nod, getting comfortable on the blanket.

Dick’s expression turns sheepish. “B and Tim couldn’t make- someone had to patrol tonight… they’ll get here later, ok?” He settles in next the Damian, Cass shuffling forward to sit with Steph and duke, watching them argue about what movie to watch.

Jason nudges your side, holding out a plate of your favourite snacks with a hum. You take it gratefully, taking a bite and sighing. You notice that Jason has the remote, and he’s started scrolling the movie options without care fore the argument happing to his left.

“Huh… any of these look good to you?” He asks you quietly, gesturing to the list of movies displayed on screen. Most are ones you’ve seen a thousand times, but you can spot your favourite movie. You snatch the remote and hover over it, letting the details pop up.

Jason huffs and takes the remote back, but doesn’t question your choice. Dick snickers and Jason swats at his head angrily. You and Damian share a look. This is why you don’t have movie nights often.

Thankfully, all arguing quiets down when the door opens again and someone clears their throat. You all look towards the entrance and see Alfred standing in the door way, seeming both amused and tired by the fighting.

He walks towards all of you, holding two trays in his hands. He sets one down on the blanket, revealing it to be a plate of cookies. They seem to be freshly baked…

He hands the second tray to you. It’s full of things you might need— a heating pad, a cold compress, more pain meds and sleeping pills, just in case. He lets you set it down before speaking again. “Miss Barbara wishes you well, Master [Name], and Master Tim has requested that I tell you that both him and Master Bruce will arrive within the next two hours.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” You hum, taking whatever items you think you’ll need and getting situated. You don’t take the pain medication— you took some back at the cave— though you do take the sleeping pills.

Alfred bows slightly and walks away again, likely to prepare the cave for Tim and Bruce’s return.

Before anyone can start arguing again, Jason presses play on the movie. Nobody complains as the beginning sequence begins, likely knowing that you picked this movie.

Damian settles against your side, arms loosely hanging around your stomach. Dick leans closer to the both of you, Jason tries to steal your snacks.

It’s perfect.

You manage to watch the first thirty minutes of the movie before the sleeping pills take effect and you slump against Jason’s shoulder. Surrounded by family, watching your favourite movie, you feel perfectly content to fall asleep.

Possibly hours later, you wake up to someone touching your hair.

Blinking open your eyes, you come face to face with Bruce. His expression is unusually soft, smiling gently at you. “Hey sweetheart..” He murmurs quietly, pushing your hair out of your face. His expression is soft, but slightly upset. Or proud? You’re half asleep, you can’t tell.

He stands up, rubbing his eyes and sighing. Behind him, you spot Tim looking over Steph and Cass, both of whom have fallen asleep together. Bruce glances down at you, smiling again. “It’s okay, kid, go back to sleep, okay?”

Humming, you close your eyes again. You hear him walk away, and feel Tim settle down between you and Jason. There’s some muttering and grumbling, but no fights break out.

There’s still a movie playing quietly, though you don’t recognise it. You think you hear a quiet click, but you can’t be too sure…

You drift off before you realise.

Two weeks later, Bruce has a new photo sitting in his home office, the office at Wayne Tower, his wallet, his lockscreen…

It’s a dark picture of his kids. They’re all curled up together, bathed in a pale blue light. They’re all covered in blankets, and pillows are strewn about.

It’s his favourite picture.

I hope this is what you wanted ^^

[sleepychenle]

wc: 722. genre: fluff, enemies to ???. tags: haechan's friend!chenle, uni au, mentions of alcohol, kinda mean!chenle. [a/n]: yn is me. i sip on my drink everytime i feel awkward and end up drunk. it’s like a reflex istg. i still struggle w tags btw... lmk if these are not it lmao.

you have no idea why you decided to accept haechan’s invitation.

you’re not the type to party, but somehow it felt like you should go. as if you were going to witness some crazy drama or someone’s entertaining canon event tonight. if you only knew…

as you make your way to the entrance, it hits you. you don’t know anyone here besides haechan, who will be hosting the party and, of course, won’t be with you all night.

“oh hi, yn!” you blink as haechan makes you snap out of your thoughts. “come with me, i’ll introduce you to my friends so you’re not bored while you’re without me” can he read minds? you follow him with no response other than a nervous smile and a small nod.

and it wasn’t that bad! even, you thought you could get along with them… specially with renjun. just for the fact that neither of you wanted to be there. they were all pretty chill guys. all except chenle. the guy that you got paired with to do some calculus homework a couple days before.

he was so stubborn and full of himself… he wouldn’t wait for you to finish and he would lose it whenever you made a mistake. you couldn’t stand each other so you both agreed to work on it separatedly.

you’re not sure when it happened, but now you have a glass of who-knows-what in your hand, sipping every time you felt like chenle was staring at you, probably hating at a distance… and that was, pretty much all the time. that’s how you started to feel tipsy. what a good idea yn! drink every time you feel awkward… what were you thinking? you think to yourself as you sigh.

you decide to go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. so you excuse yourself and try to make your way there. you are currently in a state where you can’t fully control your body, often bumping into people. but at least you could still think straight… right?

suddenly, you bump into another person. causing you to trip and fall to the floor. or that’s what you thought would happen. you open your eyes and see chenle. you never fell. you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist, and something else… his whole body pressed against yours.

“watch out, yn” he says, with a hint of worry in his tone, but you wouldn't notice anyways. his gaze intense on your features. why isn’t he cursing? why is he looking at me like that? he doesn’t look too bad... not at all.

“you’re kinda hot when you’re not grumpy…” you murmur your thoughts out, gripping his shirt as though you’d fall if you didn’t. he hums. “am i now?” “…can’t say it happens often, though” you press your eyes closed, regretting what you just said. it looks like it’s the only body part you have control of now.

he helps you stand on your feet again, finally (and reluctantly) letting go of you. he bows slightly, as if signaling he is about to go. but then, you call him almost… desperately? “wait!” you don’t even know why you stopped him, and now you have to make an excuse for it. “uhh… did you finish the exercises?”

he turns around “i did… why? you need help with yours?” chenle says with that smug expression he always seems to save just for you. “no… i didn’t want that” your voice get quieter. he raises an eyebrow and gets closer again… incredibly close “oh? what did you want then, yn?”

oh how i love when he calls me by my name… why am i even thinking about this? there is no use in hiding it anymore, right? no, wait yn. think for a moment- “a kiss” you manage to say, so low that only him could hear it… as if it was forbidden.

his smirk widens. and his face is a mixture between amusement and surprise. he leans down and you close your eyes, preparing for the so-wanted kiss. but instead, his mouth hovers right next to your ear and he whispers “ask me again when you’re sober, will you?” he pulls away with a smile and walks away. leaving you there, stunned, flustered and cursing at yourself for not being sober enough.

[bloodywankers]

tw; yandere, domestic abuse, child abuse, drugging, alcoholism, slight nsfw, bodily harm, unedited

Hate is a strong word but even it is not nearly strong enough to describe what Alexei felt for his father, the one who snatched his mothers budding career as a ballerina right from her. Not when–if not for him, perhaps he would’ve grown up loved and cared for by a mother instead of a changing rotation of nannies and tutors. The few memories he has of her usually include crying and screaming, cursing the boy for looking like ‘that monster’--what she called his father. Now that he’s an adult, he can’t help but agree, but most normal children at that age don’t tend to understand why mommy always screams and sobs when she and daddy are alone at night.

He hates to admit it but when desperate he’d even turn to his father for a morsel of affection, not unlike his brother but both were met with his cold gaze and treatment worse than that which you expect from strangers. Because, as his brother who was equally as young best described it, “Daddy only has eyes for mommy”. Every chance he got, their father got gifts for their mother. Jewellery, dresses and any other thing money could buy, well, anything except the freedom to leave. Alexei and his brother always had gifts on birthdays and holidays too, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out they were from the nannies who took pity on them rather than their parents.

But it wasn’t always bad! Sometimes daddy, sitting in the living room, would massage mommies feet— which always seemed to hurt and need treatment— and mommy would be too tired to cry or curse at the boys. On those occasions they would be allowed to play in the living room, but only if they didn’t make any noise. On those occasions Alexei felt like a real family, just like the one in the movies, if you ignored the half-drunken cup on the table near mommy with a substance too cloudy to be called water.

No one turns out normal after a childhood like his, that’s what his last therapist said at least. So no one should blame him for finding refuge in alcohol, his brother inheriting the family business allows Alexei to run nightclubs that bleed money quite easily. A privilege he’s willing to admit most don’t have, but most don’t have a family life like his either. Nowadays he doesn’t know what his parents are up to and usually, he’s too drunk to care.

Of course, it’s not all bad, he has a nice house where he can do as he pleases. It’s nothing like a typical rich bachelors house but instead one he saw in a movie once, he’d always been jealous of the family the character had so he purchased a house that looked eerily similar to the movie set. Hoping that the association would make it feel less empty and cold, he even got the same dog the main character had. A big golden retriever that he would take on walks in the mornings after a hangover, he even feeds it on time despite his drunken habits!

But a dog and suburban house don’t fill the void left by crippling loneliness, not when humans are inherently social creatures and Alexei actively denies himself this. The comfort of alcohol is limited, you can only consume so much before it stops working so occasionally he seeks the warmth of a person, usually it’s short-lived, most people have normal lives, and normal jobs they have to get to. So he usually goes straight back to sleep after he does whatever mundane routine he’s set to follow, waking up only after the last rays of the sun are gone, but occasionally he makes exceptions. This time, due to his brother demanding he attend an event with him, some sort of charity event that involved a ballet performance.

Alexei doesn’t remember much after he saw you dance in your little dress and stage makeup. For a moment in time it felt as if you two were the only people in the world, an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as you stared right into his eyes. He’s never been one to believe in these sorts of things but it almost felt like fate as your gazes met and his heart felt truly alive for the first time in so long, a sensation he was sure was not a side effect of alcohol poisoning this time.

He could faintly remember inviting you to one of his nightclubs and you begrudgingly accepting, looking back on it, being the brother of a major backer for the event might have been part of the reason you accepted but Alexei liked to think it was because you were as charmed by him as he was you. It all felt like a blur until he found himself in a hotel room with you, sitting on a sofa with you on top of him. By that point he had too much alcohol in his system to do much more than to beg you to keep going. Letting you guide him until he was on the floor and you in his place on the sofa.

“I’ve been a good boy, haven't I? You love me, right?” He’d mutter between, his words slurred and barely audible as he took one of your feet in his hand and kissed it.

“Tell me you love me.” This time he spoke in a clarity that made all his past drunkenness seem like an act, his eyes wide opened and focused solely on yours.

“Hmm?” His grip on your foot seemed to tighten as he eagerly waited for your reply, eyes staring right into yours and a blank expression waiting to contort based on your reply. He looked almost pathetic, especially when compared to how high and mighty he seemed to act when sober.

You were quick to respond with confessions of love, lest he cut off the circulation to your foot entirely and, to your pleasure, the reply seemed satisfactory enough as he continued, shifting his focus to your breasts instead. Continuing on until the sun started to peek through the window and neither of you had any more energy to continue, although you were sure he kept going long after you passed out. However, thankfully, you were able to get up before him, carefully dressing yourself so as to not wake him.

It’s almost routine for Alexei to wake up alone after spending the night with someone but he admits to feeling a little disappointed this time, hoping he could see you at least for a last time but he tries not to linger on it for too long, it’s always been like this and this time should be no different. Even if the walk home feels especially lonely when he sees parents walk their children to school and young couples bask in each other's company. He doesn't like to admit it but that doesn't make it any less unbearable.

He’s never lingered so much after spending the night with someone, never bothered to figure out their name or the place they work at, nor as he ever bothered to add any events they could likely attend to his calendar. It’s out of character, he acknowledges as he scrolls through your social media, careful not to like any of your posts to tip you off, at least not until the time is right. It gets to the point where even people around him start to notice.

“You’ve been going around asking for information on her, how would I not know when you called the event organisers?” His brother, Viktor, said. At this point, any normal person might’ve reprimanded Alexei for acting like a lowly stalker. But it’s so difficult to tell him off when this is the longest anyone has seen him sober. Especially when he wakes up at normal hours every day and indulges in hobbies he knows you like in the hope of impressing you. This is still despite not having met you since that day. It’s hard to tell him to go back to isolating himself and indulging in little more than slowly destroying his health. And so what if knowing how his brother is, it comes at the cost of a stranger? It was a worthy sacrifice, in Viktor's eyes, if his brother could feel a sense of normalcy for the first time in his life.

According to his original plan, Alexei was going to ‘coincidentally’ meet you again and formally introduce himself. He was going to court you and go on dates with you like normal couples do, he would propose after a year with him. He didn’t mean to have you wake up with a chain to your ankle but he couldn’t help himself when he saw your attention shifting from him to someone else. He got anxious thinking all his plans had been for nothing, as he pictured you with another man while he could do nothing but offer you bitter congratulations.

As you nervously sat in front of him in the dim office, Alexei couldn’t help but smile, taking in the sight before he continued. “Despite your skill, you still haven’t gotten a main role yet, have you, [name]?”

You knew how this went, so many of the company's favourite ballet dancers had used similar means after all, but it didn’t make you feel any less dirty as you replied. “No, sir.” He looked different from that day, his hair better kept and face not as sunken in as that night. Had you met under different circumstances you would have no qualms against admitting he was a truly handsome man.

“Well, I don’t think that fair, especially for someone as talented as yourself, so, I’d like to offer to sponsor you. Of course, that is, only if you would agree to it.” You almost laughed at this. Alexei was just as aware of this as you, if you dared to deny his offer it would mark the end of your career. You would never dance again. “Sponsor…?” You couldn’t help but feel a shiver run through you as you looked up to find him smiling, it was an unfamiliar expression. Even that accursed night his expressions had been nothing short of pitiful but now he felt like a completely different person.

You couldn’t find it within you to say yes immediately, not when you still remembered the events that took place after you left that hotel room, the way your skin burned as you scrubbed it to try to get rid of that dirty sensation you felt, the way everyone stared at you when you returned to practice at the studio. They had seen you leave with him last night and could clearly see the marks peeking through. It felt unbearable to even think about it.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice Alexei now standing behind you as his hands placed on your shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Everything after that felt like a repeat of that night, the only difference being that this time he was sober throughout, which felt arguably worse. At least he was somewhat consolable that time, a childish pitifulness present in his expression even as he clawed through your skin and took from you with not a shred of remorse. At least then you could console yourself thinking it was a drunken mistake but this time his eyes were clear as day as they bore right into your own. His words were perfectly coherent as he proclaimed his undying love and his movements deliberate and controlled as he twisted your ankle in ways it shouldn't.

Masterlist

[numberonetacostan]

(What I have for) Feral Taco :3

Hello my friends!!!^^ Here is the long post to go along with the drawing of feral taco I made the other day because people showed interest!!! :D It made me so very happy. I apologize if this au isn’t as neatly put together as some others I’ve posted, I straight up did not expect to be typing this out. I thought this would be an au that stayed in Loomy’s daydreams but then people asked so here we are!!! :) Please enjoy!!!!

So Taco’s mental health is absolutely awful after Mic leaves her. Just terrible. So bad. And instead of teleporting away with Mepad’s comatose body after Mic quits the game, she just… gives up. Leaves him there, and walks back to her home in the woods, which I like to think of as being on the other side of the island. Judging from the map we see Mepad display in episode 14, the forest stretches out nearly to the other end of the island, yeah? I tend to think Taco only goes to the edge and area closer to the hotel to meddle in the competition and talk to Mic. As for her actual living space, it’s much easier to stay hidden deep in the forest on the side of the island that everyone else doesn’t live on. So that’s where Taco is. Alone. For quite some time. Season 3 happens, season 2 ends (Without the disaster that the finale was, solely because it doesn’t work well with the timeline of this au. So, uh, Cobs tripped and fell off of MeCloud and caught on fire and died. Suitcase decimated Knife in uh. Jump rope contest. Or something. Good with everyone? Good.), and the show has been on hiatus for a good few months, as a nice break for the cast before season 4 starts. Other than Taco, who has just been alone and getting worse for quite some time now. 

SO! The bulk of this would start around the time that said hiatus will be ending, all the contestants are at the hotel, including those who normally live on Paradise Island, because Mephone is getting ready to announce the next season, including who’s going to be participating! (They still don’t know he made them. This is about TACO. We’re not doing finale stuff here.) Most importantly, out of all of said contestants, are Bot and Goo. This is a Loomy AU you thought there’d be no propaganda in here? No. Taco will form relationships with whoever I please. So, Bot and Goo being Bot and Goo, go and play in the woods!! They’re exploring!! Having fun!! Playing tag, hide and seek, and enjoying nature!!! They stay relatively close to the hotel, for safety purposes, but end up going just a tad too deep into the woods as it’s getting dark. And it’s not called the Perilous Woods for no reason, hm? There’s some real Perilous stuff in there!! It could be a bear, a big snake, a wolf, a dragon, whatever you please since we lack a real world would-be location of Inanimate Island and thus we don’t really know what sort of wildlife would be there. I mean, I have a theory or two, but that’s not the point. Anyways, Bot grabs Goo and bolts. Neither of them are particularly edible, but they can’t be recovered by MeLife and would rather neither of them get maimed, yeah?

They get away from the danger, yay! But now they’re quite lost. Not yay. And now it’s become evening, so it’s dark. Bot does glow in the dark, at least their plush does, but we’ve seen how dark that forest can be during the day in episode 9. They’re nowhere near bright enough to see more than a foot or so ahead of them. And with how dense it is, it wouldn’t be easy for them to extend their legs and look back towards where the hotel is. So, to reiterate, they’re very lost in the thick, dark forest. Not good. Spooky noises all around, two very scared little guys. Especially when they hear rustling in the bushes, coming closer. And closer. And closer. And out from the darkness, they see a single eye staring at them, and scream!!! Until a flashlight is clicked on, and a very confused and unimpressed Taco is looking at them. She’s significantly more crack than she was the last time anyone (Mic) saw her, with one of her eyes whited-out and unseeing, but it’s definitely her!! And she’s holding some fishies skewered on a stick!!! Remember the fishies they’ll come back. 

Now, I don’t think Goo would really know much about Taco, if he knows about her at all, but Bot would definitely have heard about her, at least by virtue of having Fan as a Dad. But! They are very lost, and Taco is kind of their only option here!! So Bot asks her for help!! They’re lost, and need to get back to the hotel. Taco doesn’t really respond, but just sort of continues on where she was walking. Bot tries to get her attention again, but she doesn’t say anything. Once she reaches the bottom of a large shrub though, she holds the bushes open behind her, indicating that they should follow. So it seems like she’s gonna help them get back!! Bot and Goo both try to talk to her while they’re walking, but she doesn’t say anything back. Just keeps looking ahead, occasionally stopping to listen out for any potential predators. After a bit of walking, though, it turns out that she hasn’t led them back to the hotel. She pushes the top off of a stump, and points down, indicating for the two of them to go inside. Obviously, when a disheveled homeless woman you only know through tales that don’t paint her in a good light wants you to go down into a mysterious hole, you would not be too keen on doing so. 

So, Goo is spooked, and Bot’s not liking it either, so they insist Taco lead them back to the hotel. Taco shakes her head, and points down into the stump again. They insist again, Taco points again. They get nowhere, until Bot gets fed up, and turns around to try and search for the hotel on their own again, to which Taco stops them, and finally speaks. And it’s pretty obvious why she wasn’t talking before, because her voice sounds awful. Taco hasn’t spoken at all since Mic left. Why bother? She doesn’t have anyone to talk to, and she’s too upset to be talking to herself. So, her voice is quite hollow and hoarse, when she tells Bot that it’s too dangerous. The hotel is too far, and there’s too high a risk they won’t make it with all the perilousness in the Perilous Forest. If Taco, who’s lived there for years were to go, it would be one thing, but with Bot and Goo? Who are in the forest for the first time? No good. She’ll take them back once the sun’s come up, but for now it’s safer for them all if they take shelter for the night. 

Bot isn’t connected to MeLife, and Goo would quite frankly be happy to not be in the scary dark forest, so they concede and go down into Taco’s hidey hole house with her. It’s… well it sucks. It’s just a big hole. There’s a pile of leaves and moss. Uh. There’s a couple lemons. That’s uh. That’s it. Goo is trying to be a nice little fella, as he is, but he can’t really think of anything particularly nice to say, so he just ends up saying “This is a …place you got here!!” Taco is not amused. She sits down on the dirt floor and gestures to the moss/leaves pile. It’s relatively untouched, since although it was where she used to sleep, she hasn’t slept much for a while now, yeah? As Bot and Goo sit down (or whatever Goo does… just kind of droops a bit I suppose) Taco starts preparing the fish to eat!! With… her bare hands. Or rather, claws. She probably did have tools at one point, but after everything she gave up on maintaining them, and they became rather useless. So, she just does it by hand, wiping the blood and gore off on the dirt walls/floor or even her own lettuce. Quite a disturbing sight. Bot gives a polite but strained “no thank you.” Goo nearly cries. And this was not Taco’s intention!! We already know how bad she is with other people and their feelings, and she’s been in a depression for months!! This has just become the norm for her, she is not trying to scare them!! And doesn’t feel good when Goo is upset!! But of course, this is Taco being faced with emotions, so she fumbles around a bit, taking back the fish and trying to give Goo a lemon with the hand that isn’t soaked in fish blood!! It’s sour, but she does not have any other food stored up. She didn’t leave her little hidey hole for quite some time after her break up, so any storage she had is all used up. Besides, I think Goo would enjoy sour things well enough. Bot is a robot so I’m assuming they technically don’t need to eat and would just chill and let Goo enjoy his lemon. 

So Bot and Goo snuggle up and go to sleep, Taco sits in the dark for a few hours because she doesn’t trust them in her den unsupervised and also has barely slept for months <3. But once light starts seeping in from above, she wakes the two of them up to start the trek back to the hotel. Which, they realize as they start walking, is a pretty long trek. So, to fill the time, Goo tells a story!! For hours. Bot does their best to pay good attention!! Taco wasn’t paying attention when he started talking, much less midway through hour 3. And, remember earlier when I mentioned that you could imagine any sort of creature to be the thing chasing Bot and Goo? Well, not this time. I love bears, they’re cuddly and fluffy and don’t actually attack humans that much. Because they prefer fish and fruits and vegetables. Now, consider who of our three characters here would be absolutely scrumptious for a bear to eat. Because she’s full of vegetables. So, a bear comes and tries to eat Taco, Bot and Goo are quite rightfully very frightened, and Taco pulls out her space shooter, shoots it like a sick horse, and keeps walking. The founding members of the cheer factory are surprised, and have to scramble to catch up with her after a moment, because what the actual fuck was that. Well. I don’t think Goo knows the word fuck but still. They ask fair questions, like about how often she gets attacked by bears and why she has a gun, but Taco isn’t talking again and just keeps walking. Goo doesn’t go back to his story, so they just end up walking in silence, until they reach the edge of the forest!! There’s the hotel!! Hooray!! Taco points to the hotel, and immediately turns around to leave. Goo and Bot do thank her for helping them get back though, even if she doesn’t say anything back. 

They are immediately swamped upon entering the hotel. Fan is sobbing while holding Bot, and Test Tube is joining the hug even if she isn’t crying out the entire Atlantic Ocean. Goo is very much checked up on and doted upon too, even if none of the other contestants are his parents, they all probably have a mutual agreement to keep an eye on such a little and whimsical fella, yeah? But anyways, uh, the others had been looking for them for more or less the entire night and very much want to know where they’d disappeared to, of course!! So they explain getting lost and running into Taco which makes the air turn rather awkward, since she’s such a taboo topic in the hotel. When asked how she was, Bot and Goo mostly just look at each other like (⚆₋₍⚆). That would be even more concerning. Goo eventually just says a little “mm, well… if you don’t have anything nice to say you shouldn’t say anything…” Because. All they have to report is that she looked terrible, barely spoke, had blood on her half the time, and killed a bear that tried to eat her without flinching. And that’s. Very concerning. 

I honestly don’t have as much to say from here, since as I said I never expected to actually be sharing this concept, so it’s still really more of a concept rather than an au, but I’d say a small group goes to check on her here, and with Pickle’s permission (remember, only Knife and Soap know Mic had worked with her), offer her a room in the hotel. I mean, they still don’t like her, but Bot and Goo’s description of her ripping into fish with her bare hands for sustenance and having a nearly-falling-apart shell, they feel it pretty inhumane to not try to help her, yeah? And Taco is not having it. She opens up her little stump-roof-thing when Bot knocks and they and Goo call for her, but immediately slams it shut upon seeing they’ve brought more people, and refuses to come out, even when offered the hotel room. Taco is in the pinnacle of her self-hating era here, like she is doing so fucking bad. Remember when Brian said she’d be way worse off without Mepad? Well, here she is without Mepad, very much worse off. She believes herself incapable of changing!!! She would think going into the hotel would be the worst idea ever. She’d think she’d probably kill someone or steal something. She’d think OJ is an idiot for trying to let a kleptomaniac with a history of violence into his and the others’ place of living. 

And it would take quite a lot for her to be convinced, not even to go to the hotel just for a visit or an actual meal, but just to leave her den when she isn’t 100% sure no one else is around. Maybe it would be Mic. Maybe it would be Mepad. Even Balloon or Suitcase. It could be a combination of all of their respective efforts, that maybe things could turn out alright for Taco. Who knows. Not me because I have genuinely told you guys all I have for this concept at the moment. I’ll probably have more eventually but I would feel bad for making you all wait and also that eventually could be days or months so might as well put out what I have lol. 

Hope you all enjoyed!!! <3 sorry if this one sucked byeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[marvelavengerspovs1]

Chapter 2- Ruinous

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: Lots and lots of angst (sorry but not sorry), toxic behaviors between Bucky and Reader, 18+ MDNI

Length: 1.8k

Summary: You and Bucky are going through a rough patch. Is it something worth fixing?

A/N: Did I write this when I should’ve been studying for an exam? Yes, but I couldn’t help it!

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

Bucky stares at the pieces of the whiskey glass on the floor. Little droplets of the whiskey mixed with the Asgardian liquor stained the wall and the floor. It was unfair, you lashing out at him. You knew his struggles, his demons. And he told you it wasn’t your fault.

But he knew, deep down, that you were being fair. You had to do what was good for you. And right now, that wasn’t him.

Bucky collapses on the couch, his head in his hands. He knows that he acted like an asshole. He knows that you deserve better than that. So why couldn’t he change? Why couldn’t he stop lashing out?

He doesn’t have the answer. He wants to, but it’s like he can’t control what he’s doing. So he gets up, grabs another glass and pours himself a hefty amount of Asgardian liquor and whiskey, and grabs the mostly untouched box of cigarettes from his secret cupboard.

-

You wake up cold. You felt the emptiness beside you and slowly opened your eyes. You’re not home, you realize. The explosive fight with Bucky happened. You leaving your shared apartment happened. You staying the night at Natasha's happened.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to think. How can your relationship be saved? How could you leave the relationship? The decision is daunting to say the least.

To start off, Bucky and you have been together for years. You know each other inside and out. Well, you used to.

You shake your head and try to think more.

Bucky has a short temper, quick to anger. But it was never with you. When you fought, it typically wasn’t anger that made you scared. He always made sure that you were trying to understand his side.

You shake your head. You couldn’t stop contradicting yourself. If you thought about a good thing about Bucky, a negative would follow. The whole situation is confusing for you.

You decide that laying in bed isn’t helping your decision. You get up and make the bed, trying to be a good guest. You leave the room to find Natasha in the kitchen making breakfast.

She offers you a small smile. “Morning, want some?”

You look at the pan and see eggs. You scrunch your nose.

“No thanks, I can’t even think about eating right now.” You sigh and hop up on one of the counters.

Natasha places her spatula down and leans on the opposite counter to look at you. “I’m guessing you didn’t get much sleep.”

“Well I did sleep, it wasn’t very restful though.” You yawn and shrug.

Natasha nods. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just don’t know what more I can say, you know?” You feel your eyes begin to water again. “I knew about his baggage, his nightmares, who he is. And I fell for him hard and fast. And now he’s going backwards and refusing to get help. All of the bad doesn’t negate the good, but his recent actions are things I can’t overlook.”

Natasha hums and pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “Maybe this is something you need to talk to him about.”

You quickly wipe under your eyes with a sniff. “Is that a good idea?”

Natasha pushes herself off of the counter to stand in front of you. “Are you scared that he’s going to do anything irrational?”

You shake your head. Even though Bucky isn’t acting totally like himself, he’s not an idiot.

Natasha nods. “Then you need to have this conversation with him. Maybe he can tell you his side of things and maybe that’ll change things for you.”

You think about what she said. On one hand, you know that talking to Bucky would maybe clarify some things for you. On the other hand, it may cause another fight. But it was something you were willing to risk.

-

You unlock the front door, the stench of Asgardian liquor and smoke filling your nose. You see Bucky on the couch, a cigarette in his hand.

He takes a drag before turning to you. “Where were you?”

You frown at his hand. Bucky follows your gaze. He knows you hate it when he smokes. Smoking is one of the few things he picked up again when he felt stressed. But he told you that he stopped because of how much you hated it. Now you know he lied.

“Natasha’s.” You mutter.

Bucky scoffs at this and puts out the cigarette. “Of course you were.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He stands up. “It means I’m tired of you always running to her when we fight.”

“How is that any different than you going to Steve?”

“Because Steve is Steve. He’s my best friend.”

You let out a humourless laugh. “You’re telling me that just because Steve is your best friend he’s better than Natasha? She’s not some stranger.”

“Well she’s basically one to me, you spend so much time with her.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t if you weren’t an asshole!” You raise your voice.

Bucky clenches his jaw. “So it’s my fault that you always run to her?”

“Sorry I don’t feel like I can come home!” You yell at him sarcastically.

He furrows his brows. “What, you don’t feel safe?”

“Look at you now! You’re getting angry with me for wanting space and hanging out with Natasha. Why would I come home if this is what I’m coming home to?”

“All because of what happened yesterday? Is that why you don’t want to come home?”

“No, I don’t want to come home because I’m scared of you! I’m scared that you’re moving backwards and this isn’t something that I can help you with. And… I’m scared that this isn’t something that I want to be around.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to be around?” He takes a step towards you.

“Bucky, you’ve been going backwards for months. You’ve been quick to anger, you started to drink more often, you’ve been lying to me about smoking for who knows how long. You act like you don’t have friends or loved ones who want to help you, like you don’t have resources.”

Bucky swallows. “I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

You take a shaky breath. “Then I’m moving out.”

Bucky’s eyes widen and his heart drops. “You’re gonna move out because I started drinking more and smoking again?”

“No, I’m moving out because I cannot and will not watch you destroy yourself. I come home drained. Not from work but from guessing what you’re going to be like. I want to do anything but come home to you and it shouldn’t be like that.”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “What happened to through thick and thin? You’re gonna abandon me because I’m trying to work through some things?” 

“Bucky I’ve been with you through thick, and I’ve been with you through thin. But you haven’t. I can’t be two people.”

“Well sorry that I can’t be the perfect boyfriend.” He rolls his eyes.

“I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for you to do the bare minimum and I’m not even getting that.”

“So me sharing everything with you is not enough?”

“Bucky, you only share halfhearted things! You tell me what you had for lunch and then your upcoming missions. I don’t know much about who you were growing up or what your favorite color is. I want to know all of you and you only want to share a fraction of that.”

“Do you really think it’s easy for me to share the things Hydra did to me? The things I did?”

“I’m not saying it’s easy. And I’m grateful that you shared bits of that, but you are moving backwards. You won’t even go see your therapist!”

“I don’t need some shrink to tell me the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t need someone who doesn’t understand what it was like to be a fucking science experiment try to ‘decode’ me. Therapy doesn’t work.” Bucky takes another step towards you and softens his voice. “And I don’t need you to see how truly broken I am.”

“Bucky, I only see you. I see a man who has overcome all of these terrible things and is trying to right his wrongs. But I can’t see all of him when he’s starting to pull away from me. And you can’t say therapy doesn’t work when you’ve only been to 3 sessions and haven’t been back in months.”

“Fine, I’ll share things with you. Is that what you want? I’m not going to see some shrink, bringing up the past is… it has too many memories.”

You sigh and shake your head. “I need space, you need time. I can’t keep living like this, seeing you deteriorate in front of my eyes.”

Bucky finally lets himself break, his eyes water and his voice cracks. “For how long?”

“Until you show me you’re trying to get better.”

Bucky swallows. “And if I don’t?”

You shake your head. “You’re going to try.”

Bucky nods. You take a deep breath and wipe the tears staining your cheeks. It bothers you how much you’ve been crying the past few days but it’s been a long time coming.

“I���m going to go get more of my things.” Bucky nods, not able to say anything to you.

As you move towards the bedroom, Bucky sits back down on the couch. How is this real? He thought to himself. He knows that his actions have consequences, but you are the best thing that has happened to him. Was it because he was too selfish? Should he have known that all good things come to an end?

But you were willing to come back to him. You wanted him to get better. And he knows that the selfish part of him isn’t going away when it comes to you.

You exit the bedroom with another big bag of your things. Bucky looks up and stands.

“I don’t know what to say.” You try to take in every feature of his. “I’m probably going to stay with Natasha for a few days, then I’m going to talk with Tony about a more permanent solution.”

Bucky nods, not being able to bring himself to talk. You feel a pang in your heart, not wanting to leave him but knowing that it’s what's best.

“I guess I’ll see you around.” You walk towards the door.

Bucky finally speaks up. “Stay safe.”

You turn around and give him a small broken smile. “You too.”

As the door closes behind you, Bucky can feel everything around him shake. He sits on the couch, his head in his hands. Bucky lets out a cry, gasping for breath.

His whole world had left.

[fuck1ng-queen]

Less Complicated

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: none actually, enemies to lovers

Author comments: hey bestiessss! this is the first oneshot i'm posting to celebrate valentine's day with bad omens and i'm so excited to this week because i'll post one per day! i hope you all like it and see you tomorrow! 💕

The wind was blowing so hard you could hear it. You pressed your arms against your body, trying your best to close your coat around you. The leafless trees danced under the light of the streetlamps. A few small piles of snow piled up on the damp sidewalks, reflecting the brightness of the shop windows decorated with red hearts and shiny letters. The distant sound of laughter and conversations between couples walking by created a cozy backdrop, contrasting with your loneliness as you walked. Valentine's Day had never been a special day for you, it was just another one when the world around you was immersed in hearts and flowers. As you walked to the café on the corner, the one you always went to when you felt lonely, your thoughts were occupied with the upcoming exhibition you were organizing for the local gallery. It was the only thing that still kept you distracted from it all.

The sound of music in the distance caught your attention. You frowned in disapproval as you recognized the melody of the famous song by the band you avoided listening to so much. More specifically, the lead singer you'd rather forget: Noah.

Noah had always been a constant presence in your life, but not always for the best reasons. Ever since high school, your lives seemed intertwined by an inexplicable rivalry. He was the kind of person who always made a point of annoying you, as if he knew exactly where every single one of your vulnerabilities was. How could someone who hated you so much get to know you so well? And to make things worse, he did it with pleasure, always with a smile on his face that at the time you could die for, but you would never tell anyone that you found it attractive.

The music in the distance brought back memories. The fierce competitions to be the best student in the class, the discussions about who was the most creative in the projects, the challenging looks you exchanged every chance you got. Noah always found a way to unsettle you, with his unfunny jokes and constant teasing. He knew exactly how to make you angry.

“Do you really think you can beat me?” Noah scoffed after one of the many competitions you’ve entered.

“At least I make an effort, unlike you who only rely on your own cheap charm,” you retorted, with sparks in your eyes.

“Charm? I didn’t know you noticed,” he replied with that mischievous smile that only pissed you off even more.

Inside the café, the warmth and the scents welcomed you. You took off your coat and sat down by the window, opening your computer to revise a few things. You were so immersed in your work that you almost didn't notice when a man entered the café, shaking the snow out of his hair and heading for the counter. He looked different from what you remembered, maybe more mature, but still with that carefree air that irritated you so much. You blinked a few times until you believed it was none other than Noah.

“I can’t believe it.” His voice brought you back to reality.

You looked up, forcing a polite smile. “Noah.”

“You here? I swear I didn’t expect to see you.” He smiled, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I’m working. What about you?”

“Show. We're in town. It looks like the band is still following you,” he joked, and you let out a sigh.

“Unfortunately, it seems so.” You turned your attention back to the screen, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But Noah wasn't the type of person to be ignored so easily. He ordered a coffee and sat down at your table, facing you. “Why are you always so serious? Isn't it Valentine's Day? You should be having fun.”

“And what about you? Where's your romantic day?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I don't have one. My passion is music, remember?” He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee.

“Of course. How could I forget?” you replied, with a touch of sarcasm. “You play everywhere.”

“You always notice, then” he laughed, making you roll your eyes. “But what about you, still organizing those art exhibitions?” Noah asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“Yes, that's my job,” you replied as dryly as you could, turning your eyes back to your laptop.

“You know, you really take all this seriously. Haven't you ever thought about relaxing a bit?” he teased.

You sighed and closed your laptop with an audible click. “Noah, why do you always feel the need to tease me?”

“Because it's fun to see you get angry,” he replied with a mischievous grin. “But maybe I also like to see you a little out of your comfort zone.”

“You don't change, do you? Always the same Noah, eager to be the center of attention,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

“And you, always so focused, so determined,” he said softly. “Maybe that's what I admire about you.”

You couldn't help but be surprised by the honesty in his voice. “Admire? You?”

“Yes. As much as we fight, I've always admired your passion for what you do. We're artists, we can't deny that we're passionate, and I admire that in you. Even if I don't say it often,” Noah admitted, looking directly into your eyes.

You felt disconcerted. You weren't used to this vulnerable version of Noah, let alone a compliment from him, or the way you felt, unable to arm yourself for a response. You looked away, trying to process what he had said.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, not knowing what to say.

Noah smiled, realizing that he had managed to disarm you. “Who knows, maybe we should try being friends for once?”

You arched an eyebrow, still skeptical. “Friends? I don't know if we're ready for that.”

“Maybe not now, but who knows in the future?” Noah replied, getting up to leave. “Anyway, it was good to see you. Good luck with the new exhibition.”

“Thank you, Noah. Good luck with your presentation,” you replied, watching as Noah left the café.

(...)

In the following days, you tried to concentrate on your work, but the conversation with Noah kept going through your head. He seemed different, more sincere, more vulnerable. It made you uneasy.

On the opening night of the exhibition, you were nervous. The lights in the gallery shone brightly, reflecting the meticulously selected paintings and sculptures. You ran your eyes over everything, as if there were still some detail or other that might have gone unnoticed, in an attempt to suppress your nervousness.

“It's perfect,” Noah's voice sounded next to you, soft and encouraging.

You turned to him, surprised to see him there. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to support you. We're artists, I know how lonely today can be for you. I thought you might need a friend tonight,” he said with a warm smile.

You felt a genuine wave of gratitude at that moment, making you smile back. “Thank you, Noah. It means a lot to me.”

“Can I ask you something?” Noah hesitated, as if choosing every word he was going to say.

“Of course,” you replied, curious.

“Why have you always hated me so much?” The question was direct, but there was a vulnerability in his voice that made you feel your stomach lurch.

You took a deep breath, staring at him. “It was never hate, Noah. I think it was... fear. Fear of how you made me feel. You were always so free, so confident, and I didn't know how to deal with it.”

“Fear?” Noah asked, surprised. “I never wanted to scare you. I always thought you hated me because well... I've always been a jerk to you.”

You laughed softly, despite your serious look. “And you were. But I was also a bit stubborn and proud. The two of us were always competing, always trying to prove I don't know what to I don't know who. Maybe we were actually trying to hide what we really felt.”

“And what did we really feel?” Noah asked in a soft tone, but full of curiosity.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on his eyes. “I think we were afraid of getting hurt. It was easier to fight than to admit that maybe there was something more. Something we didn't know how to deal with.”

“I won't deny it, I always felt there was something more,” Noah admitted. “But I didn't know how to tell you. Every time I tried, we ended up fighting. And then I thought, maybe it's better this way. Less complicated.”

“Less complicated, more painful,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “As time went by, I kept thinking about all the things I wish I'd told you, but never did. There was always a barrier between us, something we never knew how to cross.”

Noah took a step closer, gently holding your hand. You didn't remember, but that was probably the first time you touched each other, and it gave you goosebumps. “I always felt that there was something big between us. Maybe it's too late, but I think I'd still like to explore it with you.” 

You felt your heart soar at his words. “Noah, I feel it too. I think I want to stop running away.” 

He smiled, gently pulling you closer. “So, what do you say about starting now? My name is Noah and I sing in a band.” He smiled, holding out his hand to shake yours.

You giggled, feeling your face heat up. You smiled back, your eyes shining with the chance of a new hope, feeling that the truce between you could last forever.

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Masterlist | Valentine's Day One Shots

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les mis fic recs (enjoltaire)

as a musical theatre nerd and nerd in general, behold my exr recs.

The Icarus Experiment - Chapter 1 - stvrkey - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Grantaire's family is the largest collection of idiots he's ever seen exist in one place without succumbing to death by natural selection. They're ridiculous, chaotic, sad, furious, utterly codependent, and, er, they have wings. They're also imprisoned in a secret government facility that experiments on them for unknown (but Grantaire's gonna go ahead and say sinister) reasons. The revolution will not be civilised.

Chapters: 6/6 | Words: 192,710 | AU - Maximum Ride

2. too afraid to love you - Chapter 1 - kkingofthebeach - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

this is probably one of my two favourites - as a recovering addict myself it definitely tugged on the ol' heartstrings. accurate depiction of addiction.

Enjolras is a university dropout and Grantaire is an addict. Between them they like to think they’ve got enough misfit friends to make a difference in the world - or London at the very least - if hedonism doesn’t get the better of them.

Chapters: 31/34 | Words: 215,113

3. Under My Wings You Will Find Refuge - Chapter 1 - Fiver - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

"Let me come with you. It's not smart to go around fighting monsters on your own." "Almost all hunters work alone." "Doesn't make it any smarter." In which Enjolras is going to save the innocent masses from the things that go bump in the night, and Grantaire is definitely either a lot more or a lot less than he appears. Neither of them can quite decide which it is.

Chapters: 24/? | Words: 225,809 | AU - Supernatural

4. Evergreen - Chapter 1 - lyres - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

(Slightly coming-of-age-y college AU that will likely involve R walking into the wrong class in his first week, les Amis as editors of the student paper, an eventual nightly arrest, and a trip to Paris)

Chapters: 14/14 | Words: 160,415

5. these things take time - Chapter 1 - sonhoedesrazao - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

the other of my two favourites :)

He’s always wary of making assumptions; even more so when Grantaire is concerned. He knows he’s not the easiest person to deal with. People either like him or can’t stand him, and it’s easy to respond to those reactions, but Grantaire—Grantaire is hostile and mocking, Grantaire scorns his beliefs, and Grantaire stays.

Chapters: 10/10 | Words: 63,170

6. World Ain't Ready - Chapter 1 - idiopathicsmile - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

(High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.)

Chapters: 16/16 | Words: 185,795 | AU - Highschool

7. Lovesickness - idiopathicsmile - Les Misérables - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

Enjolras swallowed. "I didn't know he had tattoos on his back." "Yeah," said Joly, shrugging. "I mean, he lives with me and before about noon, he's allergic to shirts—" "Why—" said Enjolras weakly. "I always figured he had a bad shirt experience," Joly offered. "Shirts killed his family, or his first dog got hit by a truck full of shirts." Enjolras shook his head. His face was a little flushed. "Ooh, are you experiencing symptoms?" said Joly, brightening. "What's your pulse doing? Are you breathing normally? How do your glands feel?"

Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 11,017