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shanastoryteller · 2 days ago

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Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

#children yearn for the original S3 ending #supernatural

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nyc-pizza-rat · 2 days ago

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saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so

*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*

dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.

it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.

Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.

His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.

Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.

he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.

he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.

Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —

"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."

his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.

"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."

Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.

his fingers slip.

Something warm, and sam holds him in place.

"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."

it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —

dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.

He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.

"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.

dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.

"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"

Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"

dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....

Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.

Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.

he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!

Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.

"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.

why the hell is he here? why is he here?!

he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."

Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.

"i don't know."

#two things: a) ambiguous ending bc canon stupid #b) dean loves his baby brother he does but NOT LIKE THAT respectfully don't be w/incesting in the tags #this is destiel brought to you by doe hauntedpearl #sorry about this #excuse typos writing this with my swipe keyboard rip #no beta i die like myself only #doe's writing #spn drabble #fanfic etc #oh! ask to be tagged. btw.

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sherewrytes · 3 days ago

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𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 1

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Chapter Playlist:

Chapter 1: Rolling Stone

The blaring of the alarm cuts through the dim haze of the bar like a knife. I squint at the glowing screen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My shift is over, but it feels like the world is just beginning again. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses fade into the background as I gather my things, the weight of another night spent pouring drinks and avoiding questions heavier than the bottles I’ve been slinging.

What the hell am I doing here?

I didn't need this job—my grandfather left a decent savings, more than enough to keep Choso and Yuuji set for college. But I can't touch it. Not yet. The thought of dipping into that fund makes my stomach twist. It's for them.

It’s always been for them.

So, I picked up this stupid job I hate, slinging drinks for people who don’t care about anything but getting wasted.

“Another night, another dollar,” I mutter to myself, a bitter grin creeping onto my face.

The familiar faces of patrons blur as I head to the door, but the fleeting laughter and boisterous conversations wrap around me, a reminder of the normalcy I’m missing. I should be out there, living it up, but instead, I’m trapped in this monotonous cycle of work and regret.

It’s been eighteen months since Jin died, and three weeks since I lost Grandpa. Shouldn’t I be over this by now?

“Just need to keep my head down,” I say aloud, shaking my head. “Keep the money coming. They depend on you, Sukuna.”

I step outside into the night, the cool air hitting my face like a splash of cold water. The streets are alive with the sounds of nightlife, but they feel like a distant echo, a life I no longer belong to. I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke fill my lungs, trying to drown out the nagging thoughts in my head.

Y/N…

She’s been my anchor since my world turned upside down. I think about the year we’ve spent together, how she’s become the one bright spot in my otherwise dreary existence. But there’s a heaviness between us that I can’t shake. I haven’t been fully present, and I know it.

“I’m trying, dammit,” I whisper, the words almost lost in the rustle of the wind. “But how do I explain this?”

What if I lose her too?

My thoughts spiral. I’ve built walls so high, convinced that keeping her at a distance will spare her from the wreckage I’ve become. But every time I see her smile, it’s like a reminder of everything I’m not—of the light I can’t give her because I’m too busy drowning in my own sorrow.

You’ve done enough of this pity party, Sukuna. Just let her in. She wants to help. You can’t keep pushing her away.

But it’s easier said than done. Every time I think about opening up, about letting her see the raw mess I am, a voice in the back of my head reminds me of the risk. “What if she can’t handle it?”

What if she leaves?

With a heavy heart, I crush the cigarette butt under my boot and head toward my apartment. I can’t let her see how much I’m struggling. I won’t burden her with my pain. But the truth is, I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m tired of pretending everything is okay when it’s not. I just want to talk to her, to feel that warmth radiating from her, even if it’s just for a moment.

As I approach my front door, I can see the lights flickering inside. Yuuji and Choso are likely glued to some video game, oblivious to the world outside. I shove the door open, the familiar creak echoing in the silence.

“Hey, I’m back,” I call out, forcing a casualness into my voice I don’t feel.

“Finally! We thought you fell in,” Yuuji replies, his voice full of that youthful energy that’s both infectious and exhausting.

“Yeah, as if. Just needed to pay the bills,” I respond, but my heart isn’t in it. I head to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water, chugging it down like it’s the last drop of sanity I’ll ever have.

I should call her. Just see how she’s doing. She’s been so patient with me, even when I’ve been a complete jerk.

I pull out my phone, the screen lighting up with her contact name. My finger hovers over the call button, hesitation creeping in.

What if she’s busy? What if she thinks I’m pathetic for calling her now?

“Just do it,” I whisper to myself, the words barely escaping my lips. “You can’t keep hiding.”

With a deep breath, I press the button, and the phone rings. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait, hoping she picks up, praying she won’t judge me for the mess I’ve made of everything.

“C’mon, Y/N. Pick up.”

After a few rings, her voice breaks through, warm and inviting. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” I say, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at the sound of her voice.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” she asks, concern lacing her tone.

“Yeah, just finished work. Thought I’d check in on you,” I reply, keeping it casual, though the truth feels heavier than I can articulate.

“Just hanging out. You sound tired,” she notes, and I can almost picture the way she frowns when she’s worried.

Always so damn perceptive.

“Yeah, long night,” I admit. “How about you? You doing okay?”

“Better now that you called,” she replies, her words wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

I need this. I need her.

“Maybe I’ll come over. I could use some company,” I say, trying to sound casual even though my heart races at the thought.

“I’d like that. Just… come over when you can,” she responds, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” I say, ending the call.

As I toss my phone onto the couch and lean back, I realize how much I’ve needed this connection. For all my reckless decisions and the way I’ve pushed her away, there’s something about her presence that makes the world feel less heavy.

Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can let her in.

I head to the bathroom to shower then to my room to change, scrolling through my phone I scrolled through spotify and played P5hng Me A*wy/Mike Shinoda and Linkin Park. I pulled out an old band tee from Bring me to the horizon and some ripped jeans. In the back of my draw I see some Xanax in a baggie. I pulled it out and popped one then a half I had from sometime before.

I should really quit this at some point…..but not tonight.

As I step out from my room into the living room, feeling a renewed sense of clarity, the front door creaks open. Choso strolls in, his expression a mixture of nonchalance and mischief that immediately puts me on high alert.

“Hey, where have you been?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, but I can’t mask the irritation creeping in. I left him home with Yuuji, expecting a quiet night, and instead, I get this.

Choso shrugs, the dim light from the hallway casting shadows across his face. That’s when I catch a glimpse of something on his arm—ink, the kind that shouldn’t belong to someone barely eighteen.

For fuck’s sake.

I sigh, the tension in my chest tightening as I stride over to him, my heart pounding with frustration and concern. “What is this?” I snatch his arm, pulling it closer to examine the tattoo. It’s a crude design, something that looks like it was done in a rush, the lines jagged and uneven.

“Where have you been?” I demand, my voice low and sharp. “I left you home with Yuuji. Did you really think sneaking out was a good idea?”

Choso tries to pull his arm back, but I hold firm, scanning his face for any sign of remorse. Instead, I find a mix of defiance and pride that only stokes my anger further.

“Dude, it’s just a tattoo,” he says, a hint of rebellion in his tone. “I wanted to do something cool, you know?”

“Cool? You think getting a tattoo looking like you did it in a back alley is cool?” I hiss, my frustration boiling over. “You could’ve gotten yourself hurt or worse! What the hell were you thinking?”

He rolls his eyes, his teenage bravado coming out in full force. “It’s not a big deal, Sukuna. Everyone gets tattoos. I just wanted to be like you. You’re the one with all the ink.”

I let go of his arm, realizing the weight of my own hypocrisy. But I can’t back down now. “You think I’m some role model? I’ve made plenty of mistakes. This isn’t about me; it’s about you making smart choices! You’re not ready for this—”

“What, you mean you think I can’t handle it?” Choso snaps back, his youthful anger flaring. “I’m not a kid anymore. I can do what I want!”

“Yeah, well, you’re still living under my roof, and I’m still responsible for you,” I remind him, my voice strained but firm. “So until you can pay your own bills, I expect you to follow some rules. This isn’t a game, Choso. Tattoos can have consequences you’re not thinking about.”

Choso crosses his arms, his defiance cooling slightly as he looks away. I soften my tone, fighting the urge to explode. “I just… I don’t want you to end up regretting something like this. It’s not as easy to remove as you think. And if Yuuji knew you left the house, he’d freak.”

Choso’s eyes flicker with guilt for just a moment, but he quickly masks it. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to try something different. I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Not a big deal?

I lean against the wall, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Look, just promise me you’ll think about your choices next time, alright? You’re not just a kid anymore, but you still need to act like one sometimes.”

“Fine. I promise,” he mutters, though I can see the annoyance simmering beneath the surface.

“Good. Now go shower and study and cover that thing up. You don’t need to show that thing off to everyone.” I start to walk back to the couch, but Choso grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Wait.” He looks me in the eye, something earnest in his gaze. “What if you’re not here? What if you get tired of taking care of us and just…leave?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and charged. I open my mouth to reassure him, but the truth is, I’m terrified of what he just said.

What if I do?

“Listen, Choso,” I start, searching for the right words. “I’m not going anywhere. I lost too much already. You and Yuuji are all I have left.”

“Then stop acting like it doesn’t matter,” he shoots back, and I can’t help but feel the sting of his words.

I swallow hard, staring at him, wishing I had the right answers. “I’m trying, okay? Just… let me figure this out.”

He nods, but I can see he’s not fully convinced. “Alright. Just don’t go disappearing on us, okay?”

With that, he heads off toward the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.

I can’t disappear. I won’t. But what if I keep failing?

With a heavy heart, I plop back down on the couch, staring at my phone. I wonder if I should call Y/N again. Maybe she’d have something to say that would make all of this feel a little less overwhelming.

As I sit there, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not just fighting for myself anymore. I’m fighting for Choso, for Yuuji, and for Y/N. I need to find a way to hold it all together.

Somehow. I have to.

I plop down on the couch, the weight of the evening still heavy on my shoulders. The faint smell of cigarettes and whiskey clings in the air.

Jesus, it stinks in here

Just as he begins to find a moment of peace, Yuuji plops down next to him, grinning as he passes over his lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

“Here,” Yuuji says, his voice light, almost playful.

“Stay outta my shit, man,” I grumbles, though I can’t help but feel a hint of amusement at Yuuji’s carefree demeanor.

Yuuji chuckles, unfazed. “Where’s Y/N? I didn’t see her at Grandpa’s funeral.”

The question hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, I feel the ground shift beneath me. I had meant to tell Y/N about grandfather's passing—she had been there for me through so much—but the weight of it all had left me feeling paralyzed.

It wasn’t important that she was there…

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling the guilt settle like a stone in my chest. “It wasn’t important that she was there,” I muttered, trying to brush it off.

“But isn’t she important to you?” Yuuji presses, his tone shifting to something more serious.

I fell silent, the question echoing in my mind.

Is she?

I reach for a cigarette, pulling it out with slightly trembling hands before lighting it. The flame flickers in the dim light, illuminating my features for a moment as I inhale deeply.

“Dude,” Choso pipes up from the hallway, his voice laced with annoyance. “You said no smoking in the house.”

I rolled his eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. “Cut me some slack,” I snapped, though I can’t ignore the tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me that I should be setting a better example.

The deep feeling that I’m forgetting something tugs at me, like a whisper just beyond my mental grasp. But then again, if I forgot it, it probably wasn’t important. Right?

Yuuji is staring at me, a knowing look in his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he leans back against the couch, looking comfortable in the silence that stretches between them.

“Things have been rough, huh?” Yuuji finally says, his voice softer now.

“Yeah,” I replied, flicking ash into a nearby tray. “You could say that.”

Choso saunters back into the living room, arms crossed, eyeing Sukuna. “You really should talk to Y/N, you know? She cares about you, and it’s clear you’re going through something.”

I glared at him, irritation flaring. “I don’t need you two playing therapist. I’m handling my shit.”

Choso raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Handling it how? By ignoring everything? By pushing everyone away? Because that’s not working.”

The truth stings, and I shifts in my seat, the tension coiling tighter. “I’m not pushing anyone away,” I shoot back, though I know it sounds hollow.

Yuuji breaks the tension with a laugh. “Yeah, you are. You could at least let her in a little. She might surprise you.”

The idea sits heavy on my chest.

Could Y/N really surprise him? Could she handle what he’s been dealing with?

What if she can’t?

I take another drag, the nicotine coursing through me like a desperate lifeline. “Whatever, man. Just drop it.”

Choso opens his mouth to argue, but Yuuji nudges him with a chuckle, and they both fall into an easy banter, leaving Sukuna to his own thoughts.

Maybe I should call her...didn’t I call her…can’t fucking remember.

But the longer I sat there, the more I felt that familiar weight pressing down. The feeling of forgetting something important resurfaces, and I can’t shake it off.

As the night drags on, Sukuna fights the urge to reach for his phone again, knowing that if he does, everything could change. But at the same time, it feels like he’s on the edge of something—something he can’t quite see but knows is there, waiting for him to make the first move.

What the hell am I doing?

I flicks the cigarette butt into the tray, the embers glowing as it lands.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence, my voice rough. “What if I mess everything up? What if I don’t know how to make it right?”

Choso and Yuuji both turn to me, surprised by my admission.

“Then you figure it out,” Yuuji replies, his tone steady. “Just like you’ve always done. Just don’t shut her out.”

Maybe it’s time to stop running and start fighting. For once.

With a deep breath, Sukuna decides it’s time to stop overthinking it. He picks up his phone, staring at the screen, ready to reach out to Y/N.

This is my last chance...but I’m exhausted right now. Fuck!

Yuuji’s POV

Sukuna's exhaustion finally takes over as he sinks deeper into the couch, his body curling into itself. The low hum of the television fills the room, blending with the sound of his steady breathing. He drifts off, lost in the chaos of his mind.

Meanwhile, Yuuji glances at the sleeping figure of his older brother, a frown creeping across his face. Curious and a bit worried, he reaches for Sukuna's phone, its screen illuminated in the dim light. He unlocks it and starts scrolling through the messages, his brow furrowing as he realizes how many texts from Y/N have gone unanswered.

“Dude, look at this,” Yuuji says, wandering over to Choso, who’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a bored expression on his face. Yuuji holds the phone out for Choso to see, displaying the countless messages from Y/N that Sukuna has ignored for the past month.

Choso glances at the screen, then rolls his eyes. “Mind your own business, Yuuji,” he replies, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Seriously, though,” Yuuji presses, a touch of frustration creeping in. “He’s been ignoring her for so long. What’s going on with him?”

Before Choso can respond, Sukuna’s phone starts ringing, the sound piercing through the quiet. Yuuji’s eyes widen, and he instinctively silences the ringer, a mix of concern and curiosity flashing across his face.

“What should we do?” Yuuji asks, looking at Choso for guidance, a bit of desperation in his tone.

Choso shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Mind our own business. It's not our place to interfere.”

Yuuji sighs, glancing back at Sukuna, who remains blissfully unaware of the conversation happening around him. “But I like Y/N. She’s cool and puts up with him,” he points out, gesturing to his older brother, still sleeping on the couch. “She deserves better than this.”

Choso lets out a breath, his frustration shifting to something softer as he considers Yuuji’s words. “Yeah, I get that. But what do you expect us to do? You think we can just barge in and demand he talk to her?”

Yuuji's eyes narrow, determination hardening his features. “Maybe that’s exactly what we should do. He needs a wake-up call. This isn’t just about him anymore. He’s got people who care about him—people who are worried.”

“Like you?” Choso scoffs, but there’s no real bite in his tone. “You think that’s going to make a difference?”

“Maybe,” Yuuji replies, his voice firm. “But if we don’t try, then we’re just letting him push everyone away. We can’t let him go down this path alone.”

Choso hesitates, the weight of Yuuji’s words sinking in. He knows Sukuna is struggling, knows that beneath the bravado lies someone broken and scared.

“Okay, let’s wake him up, then,” Choso finally concedes, pushing himself off the wall. “But if he gets pissed, that’s on you.”

Yuuji nods, determination burning in his eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

Together, they approach the couch, the weight of their intentions hanging in the air. Yuuji crouches beside Sukuna, gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey, Sukuna. Wake up, man.”

Sukuna stirs, groaning as he squints against the light. “What the hell?” he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled hair, still half-asleep.

“Time to get up,” Yuuji says, his tone serious now. “We need to talk.”

Sukuna blinks, confusion clouding his eyes as he tries to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Talk about what?” he grumbles, irritation creeping in as he stretches.

“About Y/N,” Choso interjects, crossing his arms again as he leans against the wall.

The mention of her name seems to clear the fog from Sukuna’s mind. “What about her?” he asks, sitting up straighter, instantly alert.

“You’ve been ignoring her, man,” Yuuji says, his voice firm but compassionate. “She deserves better than this.”

Sukuna’s heart sinks, the familiar guilt clawing at his insides. He opens his mouth to protest but finds no words.

“I don’t want to hear excuses,” Yuuji continues, determination etched on his face. “You need to reach out to her. She cares about you, and you’re pushing her away. We can’t just sit here and watch you do this to yourself.”

Sukuna looks between the two of them, the weight of their concern crashing over him.

Maybe I’m not the only one hurting here.

“I… I know,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Choso steps closer, his expression softening. “Then what are you waiting for? Call her. Don’t let this go on any longer.”

Sukuna glances down at his phone, the screen still displaying Y/N’s name. What am I waiting for?

With a deep breath, he picks it up, the decision weighing heavily on his heart. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding and start fighting for the people who matter most.

Sukuna’s POV

I glance down at my phone as it lights up again, Y/N’s name flashing across the screen.

Not again.

I let it ring, barely registering the sound as I mumble to myself, “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

But the ringing doesn’t stop. I grit my teeth, a sense of dread bubbling in my stomach. “For fuck's sake,” I mutter, watching it ring again.

Why can’t she just give me a minute?

When the phone vibrates for the third time, I finally snap. “Fuck!” I answer, irritation spilling over as I press the phone to my ear. “What?”

“Where the hell have you been?” she shouts, her voice cracking like a whip through the line, the frustration palpable.

I wince, already regretting picking up. “I’ve been… busy,” I respond, my tone defensive.

“Busy ignoring me?” She scoffs, and I can practically see her rolling her eyes, her frustration radiating through the call.

This is so typical…

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside. “I’m not doing this right now, Y/N. It’s not a good time.”

“Not a good time? You’ve been dodging my calls for weeks! What the hell is going on with you?”

Weeks… The word hits me hard, the weight of it settling heavily on my chest. I can’t keep running from this.

“Look,” I start, my voice low, “my grandfather is dead.”

Silence falls on the other end, thick and suffocating. I can almost hear the gears turning in her head.

“...When’s the funeral?” she finally asks, her tone shifting from anger to concern.

“It was three weeks ago,” I reply, the admission tasting bitter on my tongue.

“Three weeks?” she whispers, disbelief lacing her words. “And you said nothing?”

“I'm handling it, Y/N!” I bite back, the frustration boiling over. I can feel the anger and grief bubbling up, the remnants of my grandfather’s absence clawing at my throat.

I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.

Her silence feels like a dagger, cutting deeper than any argument we've had before. “This isn’t how you handle things, Sukuna,” she finally says, her voice shaking.

“I’m not doing this dumb shit with you tonight,” I snap, the heat of the moment overwhelming me. “I’m hanging up.”

And with that, I cut the line, the sound of the call ending echoing in the stillness of the room.

What the hell was I thinking?

My heart races as I throw my phone onto the couch, the silence that follows feeling deafening. I bury my head in my hands, fighting against the emotions swirling inside me.

She doesn’t understand. She can’t know what this feels like… The anger, the pain, the constant ache of losing my grandfather and not being able to show it. How could I have told her?

I lean back against the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

Just give me time…

But as I sit in the dim light, the loneliness creeps in. The silence is heavy, and I know I can’t keep pushing her away. I want to reach out, but the fear of exposing my vulnerability paralyzes me.

I close my eyes, wishing for the chaos to settle, for a moment of peace to wash over me. But it doesn’t come.

Tomorrow, I’ll talk to her. I’ll figure this out.

But as the minutes stretch on, I realize the truth—if I keep this up, I might lose her for good.

Ding.

I sigh, my heart sinking as I open my eyes, dreading that it’s another text from her. I reach for my phone, bracing myself for the disappointment, but I feel a wave of relief wash over me when I see the name flashing on the screen. It’s not Y/N.

It’s Toji.

I’m five minutes away and I got pizza and weed.

I throw the phone back onto the couch and turn to Yuuji and Choso, who are in the kitchen, their heads craned toward the door, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Zenin is coming over,” I announce, trying to keep my voice steady.

Yuuji shrugs, a nonchalant expression on his face. “And I don’t give a fuck.”

Choso snickers, and I can’t help but wonder,

Who raised this kid?

“Yuuji,” I say, my tone firm, “you’ve got school tomorrow. Head to bed.”

He rolls his eyes, but I can see the weariness creeping in. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

I shift my gaze to Choso, who’s been sitting quietly, but I know he’s been feeling the pressure of finals coming up soon. “You need good grades to get into university, too. Go study or some shit.”

He raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I will, but it’s hard to focus with you two around.”

Great, more attitude. “If you can’t handle the distraction, then take your study materials and go somewhere else.”

“Not a chance,” he says, laughing as he grabs a bottle of soda from the fridge. “Besides, I want to see what Zenin brought.”

I shake my head, the corners of my mouth twitching upward despite my efforts to maintain a stern facade. “You two are impossible.”

The door swings open a moment later, and Toji steps inside, a broad grin on his face, pizza boxes stacked high in his arms. “Guess who brought dinner!” he calls out, the aroma wafting through the air and instantly making my stomach growl.

“About damn time!” Yuuji jumps up, rushing over to help him with the boxes, while Choso just stands there, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

I lean back on the couch, watching the chaos unfold. This is a welcome distraction. I can feel the heaviness of the earlier conversation with Y/N slipping away, if only for a moment.

Toji, pulling out a baggie of weed from his pocket and tossing it on the couch next to me. “Let’s get this party started. It’s been a rough week for all of us.”

Yeah, rough doesn’t even begin to cover it.

But I nod, grateful for his presence, even if he’s a walking headache sometimes.

Maybe this is what I need—just a bit of normalcy, a moment to breathe.

I watch as Toji sets down two boxes of pizza on the table, and he turns his gaze to me, studying my face.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, his tone casual, but I can hear the underlying concern.

I stay silent, reaching for the weed instead, the familiar ritual of rolling a blunt providing a momentary escape. As I begin to roll, I feel Toji’s eyes on me, a bead of sweat forming at the back of my neck.

“What?” I finally snap, my voice edged with irritation.

Toji sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Guess we’re doing this.”

Yuuji, ever the meddler, chimes in with a grin, “Y/N broke up with him.”

I shoot him a glare, my hands stilling. “She didn’t.”

“Sure sounded like you guys were about to,” Choso adds, his voice matter-of-fact, as if I hadn’t just dismissed Yuuji’s comment.

I lean back, rolling my eyes. “So you’re both minding my business now?”

Yuuji shrugs, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Of course.” He smacks his lips exaggeratedly, just to piss me off even more.

Toji raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What happened?”

I take a deep breath, the memory of our earlier fight flooding back, sharp and painful. “We got into it,” I say, my voice low. “She called me out for ignoring her, and I... I told her my grandfather died.”

“To be fair,” Toji interjects, “that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I know!” I shoot back, frustration creeping in. “But it was the way she said it. Like it was my fault I hadn’t told her sooner. I just—”

I stop, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of it all settle on my shoulders. “I didn’t want her to worry. I thought I could handle it. But I’m just a mess right now.”

“You can’t just shut her out,” Toji says, his voice steady, and I can tell he’s trying to keep me from spiraling. “You need to let her in. She cares about you.”

“Yeah, but does she really? Because it doesn’t feel like it right now,” I mutter, frustration boiling beneath the surface.

Choso exchanges a glance with Yuuji, and I know they’re thinking the same thing.

You’re fucking this up, Sukuna.

“Look,” Yuuji says, more serious now, “maybe just talk to her. Apologize or something. She might be pissed off, but she’ll listen. She always does.”

“I don’t know if I can face her after that,” I admit, the confession hanging heavy in the air.

Toji slaps my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “You don’t get to hide from this. Just be honest. You’ve got to get your shit together, man.”

I nod, taking a deep breath, the reality of it all sinking in. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The weight of my decisions looms over me, but amidst the chaos and noise of the kitchen, I can feel the glimmer of hope.

Maybe I can fix this… maybe it’s not too late.

I finish rolling the blunt and take a moment, grounding myself. “Alright, enough about me. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Yuuji and Choso dive into the pizza boxes, their laughter echoing around me. And for a moment, the laughter drowns out the noise in my head, the worries about Y/N fading to the background as I join them.

My phone rings again, cutting through the brief moment of normalcy. I glance at the screen and see it's Y/N. My stomach drops at the sight. I switch the ringer off again, desperate to avoid this conversation.

Toji, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He watches the phone and answers it. “Hey, what’s up, Y/N?”

I can hear her voice through the speaker, sharp and clear. “Where’s Sukuna?”

Toji shrugs, glancing at me. “He’s around. Is there something you need?”

I feel the air shift in the room as Y/N’s voice crackles through the speaker. “Tell him to come get his shit from my place.”

My heart drops.

She isn’t doing this right now.

The weight of her words hits me like a punch to the gut.

Toji pauses, clearly surprised. “Are you sure about that?”

“His grandfather died,”

Y/N responds, her tone unyielding. “And?”

And?

The anger surges through me, hot and raw. I mouth to Toji to pass me the phone, but he shakes his head, his expression saying it all:

Don’t. Just let it go.

“Y/N, you know it’s not that simple,” Toji says, his voice steady but laced with caution. “He’s going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” she snaps back, frustration dripping from her words. “I can’t keep doing this, Toji. He’s been ignoring me, and I’m done. Just tell him to come get his things.”

I can feel my heart racing, the anger boiling beneath the surface.

She really done with me?

Toji glances at me again, gauging my reaction. “Y/N, I get that you’re upset, but maybe you should talk to him instead of kicking him out. You guys have been together for almost a year.”

“Exactly! Almost a year and I feel like I’m in this alone. I’m tired of waiting around for him to decide he wants to talk to me. I deserve better than this.”

Does she really think I don’t care?

“Okay, but…” Toji starts, but Y/N cuts him off.

“No, Toji. I’m not going to keep making excuses for him. He needs to take responsibility. If he doesn’t want to be with me, then that’s his choice.”

I’m clenching my fists now, the frustration spilling over. I can’t just let this happen.

“Just pass me the phone,” I finally say, my voice low and dangerous.

Toji gives me a hard look but eventually relents, handing me the phone with a reluctant sigh. I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

“Y/N,” I say, trying to keep my tone even, but it cracks slightly, betraying my anger. “You really want to do this right now?”

“What do you want me to say, Sukuna?” she replies, her voice steady yet tinged with hurt. “You’ve been ignoring me for weeks. You think I’m just going to sit here and pretend everything’s okay?”

“I’m not ignoring you!” I shoot back, frustration bubbling over. “I’m dealing with shit, and I thought you’d understand. My grandfather just died, for fuck’s sake!”

“Then talk to me about it!” she retorts, her voice rising. “I can’t help you if you shut me out. I’m not asking for much; I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I’m handling it, Y/N,” I insist, my words coming out sharper than I intended. “But you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like right now.”

“Then make me understand!” she snaps. “Stop pushing me away!”

I can hear the desperation in her voice, and it’s like a knife twisting in my gut.

“Y/N, I…” I start, but the words fail me.

What do I say?

But before I can finish, she sighs deeply, the sound heavy with resignation. “Just come get your stuff. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure this out.”

“Fine,” I reply, my voice quiet. “I’ll be there.”

She doesn’t respond, and the silence stretches between us like an unbridgeable chasm.

“Y/N…”

But it’s too late. She hangs up, leaving me with nothing but the echo of our argument hanging in the air.

Toji and Choso watch me closely, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down. I want to scream, to lash out, but instead, I drop the phone to my side and run a hand through my hair, feeling the tension coil tighter in my chest.

The weight of the argument hangs in the air, thick and suffocating. With a heavy sigh, I pass my car keys to Choso. “Go pick up my stuff.”

He raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Nah, bro. You’re doing that on your own. I’m not getting in that mess.”

I scoff, frustration boiling over. “Seriously? You think I want to deal with this shit alone?”

“Yeah, I do,” Choso replies, crossing his arms defiantly. “I don’t want any part of that drama. You can’t just ignore her for weeks and expect her to roll over when you come crawling back.”

“Whatever, man,” I mutter, pushing myself off the couch. I turn to Toji, who’s watching us with a bemused expression. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving me off. “I’ll keep an eye on these two losers over here.” He messes up Yuuji’s hair, earning a frustrated grunt from the younger guy.

With a heavy heart and a storm brewing in my chest, I head to my car. The engine roars to life, but it does little to drown out the chaos in my mind.

What the hell am I even going to say to her?

#black reader #black tumblr #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x black reader #sukuna x black reader #sukuna angst #sukuna x female reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #Spotify

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jifloulette · 2 days ago

Text

It reminded me of you.

relationships with blue lock boys as kpop songs . . .

pairing -> itoshi rin, bachira meguru, yoichi isagi x gn!reader (seperate !)

warnings -> some angst on some parts, swearing here and there, might be ooc ? not proofread !!

word count -> rin and yoichi's is 0.7k, bachira's is 0.9k

author's note -> please click the links on the song names !! it'll help you understand why i chose that specific song ^^

. . . itoshi rin !

♫ now playing . . run2u by stayc - - - next in queue . . save me save you by wjsn

You knew the risks of dating someone cold and stoic like RIN ITOSHI, hell you were even surprised that he liked you back. You knew damn well that you were going to get hurt in the process, but you didn't care. All you wanted to do was to be with him. It doesn't matter if he's happy (you might not see it on the outside but being his s/o made you know how he is if he's happy), disheartened or upset. Your friends warned, fuck, even your classmates who you didn't even know or liked told you so. They just didn't know him like you did. Yes, you've gotten hurt before but he would ALWAYS apologize. You've learned to become patient for him during his breakdowns, he would say things like "I fuckin' hate my lukewarm brother." and "I need to become fucking better, how else am I.. gonna beat him..". You were confused whenever his breakdowns happened, it wasn't a weekly thing for him to do that, it only happened whenever you noticed him become tense and pressured. You didn't know why he hated his brother, I mean the Itoshi Sae? But you've never asked him about it, knowing he'd get agitated.

You were the first ever person he fell for, the first person he genuinely liked being around. RIN ITOSHI was scared for the first time again, scared that one day you might leave him too. Scared that he might scare you away because god, he knows how he acts whenever he's feeling distressed. He couldn't understand it, why have you stayed this long with him? Why did you treat him so differently? Weren't you just using him for his money and his fame? He knew the answers to all of his questions when one day, he just couldn't take it anymore. He'd accidentally lashed out his anger on you, the one person who he actually cared for. RIN ITOSHI had accidentally hit you, it didn't hurt much, yet it still alarmed you. He realized what he did just in time before he held you in his arms, apologizing over and over again as he cried onto your shirt. "Baby.. it's okay, really.." you said to him while caressing his hair. "N-no.. it's not! I'd accidentally hurt you, the one person I genuinely cared for..! H-how is that okay?!" RIN ITOSHI replied, you carefully asked him if he wanted to talk about why he felt like this to which he hesitantly said yes to. "I wanna know what happened, Rinnie.. don't try to hide it. I'll always be by your side", just by saying those words, RIN ITOSHI poured his heart out on his vent to you, saying that he felt distressed because he heard some of your classmates saying that his brother will always be better than him. He told you the reason why he hated his brother, he recalled the night where his brother said some things that was too painful to say out loud. After he was done, you held him in your arms once more, RIN ITOSHI couldn't take it anymore. He cried once again, asking you why you had stayed with him this long, why were you here listening to his vents, were you just getting dirt to gossip about him? You asked him saying, "Rinnie.. you wanna know why I've been here with you for so long?", he looked up at you with his beautiful teal eyes and simply nodded, "The only reason why I'm here with you is because I love you. Not for your fame, not for your success, and certainly not for your money but for you..", RIN ITOSHI was surprised, you really weren't using him? He had doubted you for a bit but oh, your tone while you said that to him made him believe that what you were saying is true. That's all that he needed to hear before hugging you tightly again, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Thank you so so fucking much, y/n.. you don't know how much I love you..", the black-haired boy in front of you said.

RIN ITOSHI now believes that true love exists, and true love is wherever you are. He didn't care if you saw him at his most vulnerable state, he knew you wouldn't gossip that to your other friends. RIN ITOSHI now knows the answers to all of his questions, he knows that you will stay with him until the end of times.

. . . bachira meguru !

♪ now playing . . love is lonely by NMIXX

BACHIRA MEGURU was convinced that you were his special someone. You were convinced that he was your special someone too. For all of BACHIRA MEGURU's life, he'd been lonely. Only sharing his love and appreciation to his mother who held deeply in his heart. The second you went up to him, asking if he was okay, he felt skeptical. He wasn't stupid, so he'd ask you if someone ordered you to come to him just to record him at his weakest. You were taken aback yet you knew what the others said about him and his "monster", you really could care less about what they said about him. "Huh? No.. I came here because I saw feeling down after classes ended." you replied, you took your hand out and asked him if he wanted to come with you to go to a place that was special to you. He was reluctant at first but eventually gave in. He'd noticed you in class before, you weren't like the others. You genuinely had a pure heart.

You ran in front of him while holding his hand still. BACHIRA MEGURU swore he felt a big, genuine smile starting to grow on his face. Were you the person the monster inside him was looking for? You introduced him to a small bench, not that far from the school. You told him how you discovered this place as you were randomly walking home and decided that it was gonna be your special place. You had brought fairy lights to hang on the trees that were around the bench. The two of you sat on it and it was as if fate that you guys fit perfectly on it. You went on rambling about how you'd always wanted to be his friend but you were to shy to ask him, and how he'd been the first ever person you had brought along to go here. He didn't even notice how there was light pink tint starting to grow on his face. Ever since then, you and BACHIRA MEGURU had been together as if the two of you were cursed for all eternity to be together, he wouldn't mind if that was the case.

It wasn't long before he had started to fall for you, just the way you would talk to him, take care of him, comfort him, and treat him as if he were an actual person were just a few reasons on why he'd fallen for you. If he could, he would rant on for hours and hours on why he likes you so much. Before he knew it, it had already been 6 months since the two of you had met. You'd asked him to go your guys' special place to which he had ecstatically said yes to. He obviously wanted to at least look good for you, even though you said that whatever he would wear, he'd still look good. The second he arrived at the bench, he saw that you weren't there which was strange.. He thought maybe you were just playing games with him. "Y/n! You can come out now~!" BACHIRA MEGURU shouted playfully, yet you still didn't come out. He noticed an envelope on the bench with a heart sticker on it, he knew that he would want you to open it knowing that only you and him knew about this secret hangout spot and thought you had left it for him to find. He noticed a handwritten "To: BACHIRA MEGURU, my best friend in the whole entire world" on it, and when he opened the envelope, a long piece of paper was in it. He slowly unfolded it and read the contents of the letter. "Dear Megu, I'm sorry I couldn't come to you face to face to tell you what I've been feeling recently. The thing is, the second you held my hand that late afternoon, I fell for you. Call it stupid but god, I immediately fell for you. The fact you didn't hesitate to come with me just made me blush thinking about it. I've always knew I liked you before we were even friends, but I just thought of it as infatuation. You really did prove me wrong because you were the person I've been meaning to find ever since I watched romance movies and discovered what love is. The fact you listen to my endless talks about whatever really made me fall for you even more! In the span of the 6 months of our friendship, you became someone that I loved being around with. I want to end our friendship though.. and maybe start having a new relationship, a romantic one. Soo.. what do you say? Will you accept?", the letter said and god did he fall for you even more. The fact that you loved him the same way he loved you, oh who was he kidding, he's head over heels for you. As he was coming to the end of the letter, a pair of hands slowly hugged him from behind. He knew it was you, he recognized your touch all too well. The second you hugged him, he turned around and picked you up. "Oh y/n! You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day!" You were surprised, you really didn't expect that unpredictable action of his. Your smile became as big as the entire world to say the least, your eyes having some sort of sparkle in it. "So, do you accept..?" you asked gleefully, to which BACHIRA MEGURU replied by kissing you.

BACHIRA MEGURU had finally found the true meaning of love, it was the embodiment of you. The hardships of his life he had left behind due to you. He went inside the school campus with a smile on his face knowing you would be there waiting for him. BACHIRA MEGURU had finally fallen, he had let himself fall for you.

. . . isagi yoichi !

𝄞 now playing . . cool with you by New Jeans

If there was one word to describe how ISAGI YOICHI felt whenever he was with you, it would be comfort. Just being beside you, it would bring him to ease knowing that you were right there with him. You guys could be scrolling on your phones, showing each other different videos that reminded you guys of each other and he would already fall deeper in love with you. You understood him better than anyone else could, you knew what to do and what to say whenever he felt sorrowful. Whether it be losing a really really important soccer match or if he felt insecure and unconfident. Maybe that's why he liked you so fucking much. Your presence just soothes his soul, he didn't know how to explain it, it just did.

ISAGI YOICHI didn't always need for you to tell him how much you loved him, he could always feel it, as if the two of you were somehow telepathically connected. Just simply holding his hand, caressing his hair, and telling him how good he was at playing soccer was all he needed to know. People could see how deep the connection the two of you had, even before you guys were together. Whatever emotion he was feeling, it was almost as if you felt it the same way he did, maybe that's why the two of you had such a strong bond with each other. The two of you could go days and days doing the same thing over and over again but it wouldn't bore him, not when the person who he cherishes most was with him. Sometimes, ISAGI YOICHI finds himself zoning out during classes just thinking about you! He just can't help it, he's totally the type to chat you "I miss you" the second you part ways after walking home from school. He really cherishes every moment he has with you, even if he's not physically next to you, just seeing you makes him relaxed. That's definitely his motivation whenever you watch his games as well, just seeing you cheer your heart out for him, he can't help but drive himself to win, just for you.

Even if he knows how much he means to you, he sometimes can't help but doubt himself, he finds himself wondering if the effort he's putting into the relationship is the same as the effort you put in. "Baby.. do you think that sometimes.. I'm somehow lacking something in our relationship..?" the deep blue-eyed boy in front of you asks, "Huh? Love, of course not! You've given so much into our relationship, what else could I ask for?" you reply, your hand cupping his cheek. "'m sorry baby, I just felt down.." ISAGI YOICHI says, "Oh baby.. don't you ever think that you're dragging our relationship down, okay? I know you love me the same way I love you." you remind him, kissing his forehead. You see him blush and the tip of his ears turn red and you pinch his cheek as you tease him for being so so cute! "H-hey..! Why'd you just randomly pinch me!" the dark blue haired boy says, "Well, you're just so so so cute and I can't believe you're mine~!" you playfully respond. His face becomes even redder now that you said that. You chuckle at the sight of him and you pepper his face with kisses, on his lips, his neck, his jawline, his forehead, you bet that you didn't leave any part of his face untouched. It was moments like these in where he thought that the two of you were the only ones in the world, he has an album of memories in his brain stored with each and every memory the two of you had ever made. God was he crazy about you.

ISAGI YOICHI believed, no, he knew that you were his soulmate and that you knew that he was yours. He would find comfort whenever you were with him, and though he isn't the most verbally talkative lover, you knew how much he adores you. (Please let him daydream about how ethereal you would look at your guys' wedding, he would very much appreciate it, even if you find it funny)

©🇯🇮🇫🇱🇴🇺🇱🇪🇹🇹🇪, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else.

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illiterateaffairs · 2 days ago

Text

a simple favor | stiles x reader

masterlist

pairing: stiles stilinski x f!reader (enemy/witch)

word count: 7,120

warnings: language, banter, minor blood, allusions to sex *gasp* but no smut (sorry!)

summary: despite being self-proclaimed "enemies", you manage to drag stiles to your house for help with a spell...and maybe more.

author's note: hi friends! hope everyone is doing as well as they can be, and hope i can offer up a small distraction. i'm back with another witch!reader x stiles fic but this exists in a universe in which you are a "bad guy" and stiles can't stand you...for now ;) more deets at the end! also please just roll with me on any witch stuff idk if anything is accurate to witch lore, i feel as if with magic the rules are made up anyway so i'm doing what i want :)

“Hi!”

“AH- Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?” Stiles jumps before his face contorted in annoyance.

He was on his way to pick up Scott. For some god forsaken reason his best friend wanted to get a tattoo before they started junior year and Stiles was meant to “supervise”. However, just as Stiles hops into the driver’s seat of his jeep, he’s greeted in the passenger seat by you.

And you may or may not be Stiles’s least favorite person in the world.

“I was waiting for you,” you state, point blankly like it was normal for you to have broken into his car.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “God, do I want to know why?”

“Doubtful,” you sigh, turning in the seat to start putting on the seatbelt, “You should probably start driving.”

Stiles slowly narrows his eyes, “Why?”

“I need your help with a spell.”

“My help? What makes you think I’m going to help you?”

“Because you know I could kill you with the snap of my fingers.” you roll your head in his direction with a pointed look, “Besides, you owe me.”

Oh yeah. Because you saved his life this past spring when Gerard Argent kidnapped him after his lacrosse game.

Stiles inwardly groans. You had a point. He had a feeling though no matter how many favors he paid you, you’d never let that go.

You may have saved his life, but the thing was, to him and his friends you were still the “bad guy”. You were still the same witch that pretended to befriend him and Scott when Scott first became a werewolf, just for them to find out you were playing them to help Peter, who had enlisted your help to regain his strength and heal from the Hale fire. Stiles had barely tolerated you since the day you met, but after that, any ounce of trust and respect he had for you vanished.

From that point on, Stiles decided he hated you. And despite defeating Peter, your presence loomed. For some reason, Derek leaned on you when he was building his pack of betas, giving Stiles more reason to despise you. But shortly after that, out of nowhere, Scott sought your help to try to stop Jackson as the Kanima and figure out who was controlling him. There was a brief moment where Stiles thought you could become an ally but admittedly he fucked that up when Peter came back from the dead and he jumped to the conclusion that you, once again, aided and abetted him. Turns out, in fact, he was wrong, and it was actually Lydia - his hopeless crush for nearly a decade - and he had accused and berated you for nothing. So any shot at you guys finding common ground was dead in the water. And you had decided to be petty and align yourself with the Argents just to piss him off.

He hadn’t seen you since that night. He’d heard off hand from Isaac who’d heard from Derek you were spending the summer on the East Coast, doing some witch training or coven bonding shit with your family.

That was until right now, in the front seat of his jeep.

“Scott is waiting for me.” Stiles finally responds; a half-hearted attempt to get you to go away.

You make a face, “Scott can go one night without being codependent.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but he finds himself starting the engine. “Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“You’re taking me to your lair?”

“Ha ha.”

“I don’t even know where you live.”

“I’ll give you directions as we go. It's just right on the outskirts of the preserve.”

“You live in the woods?”

“Just drive.”

Stiles should question how quickly he concedes but there is in fact the possibility of you hexing him or something. Which you’ve yet to do in any serious or fatal way. But another part of him is admittedly curious; to know what exactly you want, to see how you actually live.

From the little information he’s learned about you the past year, he knows you live with your aunt and were home schooled up until recently when you enrolled in Beacon Hills High during the winter semester. But other than that, you were just the mysterious witch he hardly knew anything about. Aside from knowing you were a pain in his ass and someone he’s hesitant to trust.

But he thinks he can survive one evening with you.

The drive is quiet with just you providing simple directions. At one point he tries to make a feeble attempt at small talk, but you instantly lunge forward to turn on the radio.

You turn to look at him in disbelief when the channel that’s on is the police scanner he rigged up. He shrugs sheepishly before you shake your head and turn the dial to some indie station.

Stiles puckers his lips and nods as soft music fills the car. “Arctic Monkeys, nice-”

“Turn left at the stop sign.”

“Right.”

You turn to him with an amused look. “You don’t know how to act when we’re not at each other’s throats.”

Stiles scoffs, “Can you blame me? I barely think of you as a real person half the time, I don’t know what to say to you.”

You chuckle as you stare out the window, “Well we’re almost there.”

“What kind of spell do you need my help with anyway? And why me?”

“Because you’re a human.”

“Okay…?”

“And I need your blood.”

“Oh great.”

“It’s a spell to make a protection amulet. So I can wear it and not be found by other witches.”

“And why do you need that?”

“Now that is none of your business.” You sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt, “And we’re here.”

Stiles observes the road they’re coming to the end of. Your house is indeed at the edge of the woods: a modest victorian-gothic style home hidden by trees.

“I didn’t even know there were houses out here.”

“Not many,” you reply as the two of you hop out of the jeep.

Stiles glances between you and his phone as you lead him to the front door, also texting Scott that he’ll need a raincheck on the tattoo adventure and he’ll explain later.

“Is your aunt home?”

“Nope, she’ll be gone until late.” You answer, unlocking the door for you both to enter.

Stiles takes in what he can from the foyer. He can’t get a full view of the space but he can definitely tell witches live here. The living room is lined with wooden bookshelves and candles and trinkets. He doesn’t have much time to observe when he watches you head for the staircase.

“Um, where are we going exactly?”

“My room,” You call without turning around.

“Woah,” Stiles huffs nervously, “We’re doing this in your bedroom?”

“Don’t get too excited Stilinski, you’re here for business not pleasure.”

Stiles is grateful you still haven’t bothered turning around to look at him, because he feels his face heat up as he finally follows you up the stairs.

No surprise, your room also fits right in with the aesthetic of the house. Moody colors, wooden bed posts, and candles on every surface. He watches you flick your wrist and every candle lights up, casting a warm glow around the room. It's the first time he’s thought your powers were cool, but he’d never admit that out loud.

“Is this the lair you were expecting?” you ask, turning around to face him while standing in front of your desk, which is littered with books, potion bottles, and a large pot.

Stiles shrugs, “It’s a little underwhelming.”

“Were you expecting me to live in an underground dungeon?”

“Something like that.”

You hum and turn back to face your desk, taking stock of the potion ingredients on hand.

Stiles wanders over to stand beside you, his hands in his pockets. “So explain to me what you mean by needing my blood.”

You pick up a necklace from your desk: a silver chain with an empty vial hanging on it. “I’m essentially making a potion to put in here. And if I wear it, it will make it harder for witches searching for me to track me or my magic. And human blood is on the recipe.”

“But why me?”

“I told you, because you’re human. Not a werewolf or a witch; a human. And humans have the purest form of blood. It's basically the secret ingredient.”

Stiles rolls his eyes at your nonchalance. “Okay I get that I guess, but why me? Couldn’t you have found some other schmuck to help you? Or have you scared off every other person in Beacon Hills with your shining personality.”

You turn to Stiles with a tight smirk, “As you may know, not many people are even aware that the supernatural is real. I know you do, and unfortunately you’re my best option. Allison is still in France from what I’ve gathered, Lydia is something but I haven’t quite figured that out yet, and using my aunt would require me having to explain what I’m doing and why. So you’re it buddy.”

“Oh so I’m literally your last choice. Boy am I honored.”

“You should be.”

“Wait, do you mean your aunt isn’t a witch like you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, focusing back on the bottles on your desk, starting to add ingredients to the pot. “She’s not even technically my aunt. She was a family friend that took me in when I was young.”

“Why? What happened to your parents?”

You swallow, “You’re nosy.”

“Fine don’t tell me, but I think it's fair I get a little information since I’m the one helping you.”

“You’re the one who owes me, remember?”

“Yeah but it sounds like you can’t complete this spell without me and it seems pretty important so…thinking that gives me some leverage.”

You glance over at him with a glare and Stiles shoots you an innocent smile that makes you want to wipe it off his face.

You let out a deep breath, “My parents fled to god knows where when I was five. Apparently, my family has a centuries long feud with another coven and they’d evaded them for years until then. They decided leaving me with Jules was better for my safety. So I’ve been in Beacon Hills ever since. I actually didn’t know most of that until this summer. I sort of…had a run in with a member of that coven without realizing and now I’m afraid they’re going to find me here. Hence the protection amulet we’re making. Is that enough background information for you?”

Stiles raises his eyebrows as he absorbs everything. “Wow that’s…heavy. There’s some witch coven out there that's been trying to kill your family for centuries. No wonder you’re the way that you are.”

I let out an unamused huff as I add the last of the pre-prepared ingredients.

“Wait, is that unicorn dust- are unicorns real?”

I smirk as I pour it in, “Like I’d give away that information to you for free.”

I bite back a laugh as Stiles mutters dammit.

Turning back to him, I hold up a tiny needle. “Your turn.”

Stiles’ eyes widen briefly, holding up his hands as he steps back from you, “Woah, woah, be careful with that thing.”

You scoff, “Stiles, it's a sewing needle.”

“Well, I still haven’t completely agreed to this. How do I know you’re not tricking me into draining all of my blood?”

You roll your eyes, “Stiles I just need one drop. And then you’re free to go off on your date with Scott.”

Stiles rolls his eyes this time.

I try to fix him with a genuine look for the first time in the months we’ve known each other. “Come on. Haven’t I made it clear enough that this is important to me? I seriously would not have brought you here if it wasn’t. Don’t make me beg.”

“I’d kind of like to see-”

“Reminder, I can kill you.”

“Alright,” he groans, “Let’s just get this over with. Did I mention I hate needles?”

“Aw poor baby’s scared of a tiny needle,” you fake pout.

“Oh my god shut up, like you’re not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid of admitting something embarrassing like that.”

“Okay, just stab me already.”

You chuckle and take another step closer to him, holding out your left hand. Stiles takes a deep breath and apprehensively places his hand upwards into yours, and you gently hold the tip of his pointer finger. Stiles glances around the room, wanting to look anywhere but you pricking him with the needle, as minor as it is.

“Jesus, I can feel your pulse, you need to calm down.” you comment.

“Sorry that I’m a generally anxious person.”

“Yeah I gathered that over the last year from the fact that you literally never stop talking,” you snicker, “Have you always been like this?”

“As long as I can remember.”

“And it doesn’t drive Scott crazy?”

“Well, I think Scott, like most sane people, finds it endearing.”

“Oh. Does Lydia find your constant yammering endearing?”

“Woah, okay, there’s no need to bring her into this,” Stiles sighs rubbing his head, “Can you just prick me?”

“I already did,” I reply, making Stiles whip his head back, staring at his finger between yours, and sure enough, a red drop of blood was already forming.

“When did you…” Stiles whispers.

I shrug, dropping the needle into a bin beside my desk. “I kept you distracted.”

Stiles watches you quietly, his lips slightly parted in disbelief, while you guide his hand over the pot and gently squeeze his finger so three drops of his blood fall into the potion with a hiss. Stiles grimaces at the pressure but it's not as bad as he thought. He’s trying to get over the fact that you tried to make this a little less painful for him by pricking him with the needle while he wasn’t thinking about it. It was surprisingly…thoughtful?

“There, the final touch,” you murmur. You turn back to face him, his hand still in yours.

“Great. Do you happen to have a bandaid for the patient?” He asks.

“No need,” I reply, grabbing a small piece of gauze from the table and placing it over his finger to stop the blood.

Stiles once again watches you carefully. As you apply the pressure to his finger, he takes note of the way you bite your lip while you concentrate. After a few more quiet moments, you toss the piece of gauze away and gently press your thumb into his pointer finger and close your eyes, murmuring something under your breath. Once you open your eyes, you look back down at his finger and suddenly there is no puncture wound.

“There, good as new.”

You finally look back up at him - his face closer to yours than you remember - and he’s still staring at you silently.

“What? Were you expecting me to kiss it better?”

Stiles shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor. “Wha- no! No. Just…not used to you using your powers for good.”

I shake my head and finally release his hand, turning back to the pot and start mixing it all together.

Stiles clears his throat and glances over your shoulder. “So what now? You mix everything together in the pot and boom, you’re good to go?”

“Cauldron,” you correct, “And I also have to pour it into the vial and cast an incantation to activate it.”

Stiles nods, genuinely intrigued by the process. He watches you quietly mix everything for another minute or so, before you reach for the tiny vial, and then you basically ladle an ounce of it into the small tube.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of potion you’re not using. Do witches care about waste?”

I fix Stiles with a hard look and he holds up his hands in surrender. He continues watching you close your hand around the vial tightly and hold it to your chest, once again quietly reciting an incantation. Stiles is almost certain the words you are saying are in Latin, and again, he’d never admit it to anyone, but he was kind of impressed.

When you are finished, you open your hand and look down to study the vial. From over your shoulder, Stiles sees the vial now has a slight green glow to it.

“Assuming it worked?” Stiles comments.

You shrug, “I guess the only way to truly find out if it didn’t is if one of those witches show up here.”

Stiles nods and then proceeds to stand there and watch you struggle to get the chain clasped around your neck.

He snorts, “What, is there no spell to put on a necklace?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he stands up straighter. “Look, do you- I mean, would you want…I could..”

You groan, tired of listening to him ramble, “What?”

“I could help you, you know!” Stiles exclaims in annoyance. “God I don’t even know why I offer.”

You frown, too stubborn to stop trying but also too frustrated to keep going. Sighing, you remove your hands from around your neck and forcefully place it in his hands, “It's one of those stupid, teeny tiny clasps that aren’t meant for human sized fingers.”

Stiles chuckles as he takes each end of the necklace into his hands, while you turn around and move your hair out of the way. “Are you saying you know of non-human fingers that handle necklaces because if so I’m crossing my fingers for a tiny mouse because that would be adorable.”

You bite back a smile, thankful you’re not facing him, “Shut up.”

Stiles keeps chuckling to himself as he brings the necklace around your neck, and carefully works to clasp it. He definitely also doesn’t use the time to inhale your scent and start to wonder if you use some kind of fragrance or if witches have a naturally alluring smell.

As you impatiently hold your hair and try not to think about the cramp forming in your arm, you also definitely aren’t thinking about the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck and praying he doesn’t see any goosebumps form on your skin.

“There,” Stiles whispers unintentionally soft, making him clear his throat in surprise, taking a steep step back, “All done.”

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, dropping your hair and turning around. “Thanks. For the assist and the blood donation.”

Stiles snorts with a nod, “Yeah.”

I look down at the amulet I created and gently hold it in my hands, “Seriously though. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So…thank you.”

Stiles swallows and nods firmly, a little unsettled by the sincerity of the last few minutes, “...You’re welcome.”

You nod as well, unsure of where to go from here. “Well, I guess now your services are no longer needed and you are free to go, and we are free to proceed with business as usual; only speaking when we see each other against our will.”

Stiles huffs, crossing his arms, “What if I want to stay a little longer?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Why?”

“I have a few more questions.”

“Haven’t I told you enough?”

“I think I’m entitled to some more information,” Before you retort, he barrels on, “Look if some evil coven could potentially be invading Beacon Hills - ideally not since that spell should prevent that from happening, so you say - I think I have the right to know more about what's going on so I can be prepared for it.”

“And how exactly will you, Stiles Stilinski, prepare for that?”

“By…telling Scott…”

You snort and nod. Well fair enough I guess. “What else do you want to know?”

“How dangerous are we talking? Like, how badly do these people want you dead?”

You shrug, “I’ve only heard stories about how the feud originated. Supposedly, my family at some point in time, did something to steal powers from this other family.”

“Well it sounds like you guys are the bad guys in this scenario. Which tracks knowing you.”

“Well I’m pretty sure they did it in retaliation to them killing someone in my family in cold blood.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. So this thing goes back generations but I’m pretty sure something must have happened between my mom and this woman from that coven. I don’t know what, but she in particular has a vendetta against her and our family.”

“Is she the witch you had a run in with this summer?”

“No,” you frown looking down, “It was her son.”

Stiles’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. And did he immediately try to kill you with some spell at first sight?”

I shake my head, “Nope. He just…pretended to be someone else to gain my trust and subsequently asked me out just for me to find out none of it was real and he was trying to get to my magic the whole time.”

Stiles widens his eyes with each new piece of information, his stomach dropping as he learns that this guy used and manipulated you. Yeah you definitely weren’t the bad guy in this scenario.

“So, fun summer for me. How was yours?” You ask looking back up at him with a blank look on your face.

Stiles ignores your attempt to diffuse the conversation. “So you were seeing this guy all summer thinking he was some innocent…fling…and the whole time he was actually plotting to, what, kill you? Take your powers?”

“Something like that,” You shrug, “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out the end game with that one.”

“How did he even track you down in the first place if you’ve been hiding away here your whole life.”

“Apparently they’ve been biding time in Salem, hoping one day I’d find my way there to train with other witches. And I didn’t even know there were people to look out for until a few days ago, when I was talking to another witch I had met, who recognized his mom in a picture. I left on the spot and haven’t seen him since.”

“Did you tell him where you were from?”

“Nope, was trying to go for the whole, casual, mysterious summer fling thing.” you chuckle humorlessly. “That worked out so well for me.”

Stiles sighs, “So he has no idea where to look for you, and that amulet should keep him from getting any hints.”

“Yup.”

“And after all this…your parents are still out there hiding from them, too?”

You nod, looking down again, “Yeah…sometimes I wonder if they’re even still alive.”

Stiles frowns, “Jesus…now I’m almost sorry for…”

“No, no,” You shake your head, your face twisting in discomfort. “Don’t do that. This isn't what we do. You don’t feel sorry for me. You despise me. And honestly I prefer that version of us, I can’t stand the thought of you sympathizing with me.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles holds his hands up, “I get it. You know maybe I’m not sorry, because a fucked up childhood doesn’t excuse the shit you did to us last year with Peter, and the generally annoying shit you’ve done since.”

You make a face but don’t argue with him.

Stiles continues staring you down, with an unfamiliar look on his face. “But…that shit that guy pulled on you this summer…even you don’t deserve to be taken advantage of like that.”

Your eyes slowly revert back to looking at his face, trying not to give away how vulnerable you felt sharing that information; not to mention how vulnerable you were this summer just to have that blow up in your face. You shift slightly, still uncomfortable with the atmosphere surrounding you two right now. You cross your arms tightly across your chest.

“Thanks…”

The two of you let the moment hang in the air for another few seconds before you clear your throat, not being able to stand the sincerity any longer.

“Well I guess next time I try to have a casual fling, I shouldn’t do it with a stranger I knew for all of a day before going out with him.”

Stiles chuckles dryly, “Guess not. Maybe you’d be better off getting to know a guy for a while first. If you can keep one around long enough without driving them up the wall.”

“Ha ha. Because you’re the picture of a guy with a successful love life. Remind me of the last time Lydia gave you a second look?”

Stiles glares at you, as he starts to sputter, “She…was looking at me when I was playing in that lacrosse game.”

“Oh so over three months ago? Wow you’re making huge strides.”

“Look, I’m playing the long game alright?”

I shake my head, “God, I don’t know why you even bother.”

Stiles' jaw teeters open and closed, “What? Is it that out of the realm of possibility that she could ever like me?”

“No, I just meant you could do better.”

Stiles stutters but no words immediately form in response to that. He stares at you blankly for a few beats. “I can do better? Me? Can do better than Lydia Martin?”

You roll your eyes, “You say that like she’s God's gift to this Earth.”

“Yeah, well…she’s still nice - sometimes - and highly intelligent, not to mention gorgeous.”

“Stiles, I’m not trying to disparage your precious Lydia, I just think you could do better than someone who doesn’t give you the time of day.”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Well for one it's kind of pathetic you’ve been hung up on her for so long with no reciprocation whatsoever.”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say-”

“And second, I don’t understand why a guy like you can’t find a girl who actually likes him back.”

“Well you say that like I’ve got a parade of girls waiting in line to date me.”

You shrug, “Trust me, there are some.”

Stiles scoffs, “Yeah right.”

“I think you're underestimating how many girls just want a sweet guy who will treat them well with a moderately nice face.”

Stiles shifts awkwardly, “Is that your type?”

“My tastes are a little more refined than that.”

“Well how do you know most girls see me that way?”

“Because objectively speaking, you do have a moderately nice face. Maybe even a step above that. And look at you, you grew your hair out this summer. Do that to impress Lydia?”

Stiles flushes, “Well not just…”

“Because I’m sure it will work on plenty of other girls when they see you at school next week.”

Stiles lets out a deep breath, looking at you curiously, “Why are you saying all this?”

You uncross your arms and sigh, taking a step towards him, “Look I’m just stating facts, and maybe I can spare you a compliment since you helped me out tonight. You deserve better than waiting for someone who may never come around. And maybe, who knows, I’m wrong and one day Lydia will come to her senses and see what's right there in front of her. But don’t waste all your time doing nothing. You could at least have fun in the meantime. And I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would jump at the chance.”

You give Stiles’ shoulder what should be a supportive squeeze, but because it's the two of you it feels wrong. You awkwardly lift your hand and pat him a couple times before retracting your arm all together.

Stiles stares at you, once again in awe, confused why you’re being so civil with him…let alone…kind? His eyes hone in on the way your nose scrunches up when you instantly regret touching his shoulder, and the way your lip curves up in amusement as you look back up at him. Your eyes have a warm glow amidst the candles lighting up your room. And he’s once again in close enough proximity to you to inhale your scent; a mix of vanilla, berries, and amber.

Yeah it definitely must be a witch thing, because he somehow finds himself being drawn closer to you. And before he knows it, he’s leaning completely in and kissing you.

It's a rare occurrence for you to be taken by surprise, but you do jump slightly when his lips touch yours. He did it so fast you didn’t even have a chance to process it, let alone prevent it from happening. You don’t immediately kiss back but you don’t immediately pull away either, chalking it up to the shock.

Stiles very quickly realizes what he’s doing and the fact that you’re not reciprocating as he pulls away slightly to take in your full reaction.

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, “I didn’t mean me.”

Stiles’ eyes widen and his lips part, once again struggling to form words as he starts to pull back.

For some reason you’ll probably never understand, you instinctively reach out to hold his arms to keep him in place. He looks at your hands and then back to your face curiously.

You quietly breathe out, “I also didn’t say to stop.”

Stiles breath hitches, his lips curving up just slightly before he dives towards your lips again.

This time you instantly kiss back, pulling him closer by cupping either side of his face, as his arms come to snake around your waist.

As the kiss becomes more intense, Stiles reluctantly pulls away for oxygen.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmurs breathlessly, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You started it,” you muse, chasing after his lips.

He laughs softly, letting you kiss him deeply another few minutes before he gently caresses your face, pulling away.

“And I don’t hate what we’re doing but it's also very out of character. For both of us.”

“To make out with a hot person?”

“No,” Stiles sighs, but can’t fight the blood rushing to his cheeks, “I mean making out with each other. Honestly, this whole night has been out of character. We normally can’t stomach being in each other’s vicinity for more than five minutes.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed, this activity doesn’t require a whole lot of talking so I’m finding it easier to tolerate you.”

You watch Stiles roll his eyes, trying to rationalize what’s happening between you two. So you take a deep breath.

“Look, we’re not going to suddenly stop despising each other but there’s nothing wrong with two consenting people having a little fun. And you know…probably never speaking about it again.”

Stiles shifts the weight between his feet, becoming overwhelmed by the situation and the possibilities of where it could go; possibilities that both scare and excite him. And he can’t figure out what emotion is winning out.

“This probably won’t come as a shock to you,” Stiles speaks up again quietly, not meeting your eyes, “But I’ve never really…been with a girl…like this.”

The corner of your lips curl up. It wasn’t new information, but there was something about seeing this boy who usually goes toe to toe in insults with you be so open and honest with you.

You place your hands over his where they still rest on either side of your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can go as far as you want. Or we can stop now and pretend like this never happened. You are more than welcome to go.”

“I don’t think I want to go,” Stiles whispers hoarsely.

“Then don’t go,” You whisper back, leaning closer again.

“You’d really want to do this too?”

“Yes-”

“Because I know why I want to but why do you want to? After the guy you were with this summer I would have thought you’d be more…selective.”

“Oh that's exactly what I’m doing.”

“And you want to be with me? Why?”

“Because unlike the last guy, I know what I’m getting with you Stiles,” You state simply, “You’re a good guy. This has no chance of going anywhere. Absolutely no feelings whatsoever to get in the way. It’s perfect.”

Stiles stares at you, taking in your expression for any sign of uneasiness or lies. But he can tell you’re dead serious. His skin starts to burn in anticipation.

“So we’re doing this,” He says softly, somewhere between a question or a statement.

“I’m in if you’re in.”

“We do this once and we never talk about it again.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And no one, and I mean no one finds out about this. I mean it, you can’t tell anyone.”

You scoff, “Trust me, I plan to take this to the grave. You should be more concerned with yourself. I can’t see you going five minutes without squealing to Scott that you’ve finally seen a girl naked.”

Stiles closes his eyes and groans, praying you can’t see him blush again. He also can’t even process the fact that he is indeed about to see a girl naked.

After a moment, Stiles finally says, “I don’t have to tell Scott everything.”

“Okay, if you really believe that.” He rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. “So are you game, Stilinski?”

Stiles’ eyes flit across your face, before settling back on your lips. “Fuck it.”

He kisses you deeply and the two of you tug at each other like your bodies are never close enough. Your hands wander over his body until they end up at the buttons of his flannel, and you haphazardly start to undo them before he pulls away briefly to help you get it off of him. He shivers as your cold fingertips trace the contours of his chest and stomach, but he doesn’t get a chance to linger on the feeling as you kiss him again. He takes his turn to pull off your jacket, before sliding his fingers under the hem of your shirt, which you help him maneuver over your head. You once again only let him have a few seconds to take in your exposed skin, only your bra separating you two from complete skin to skin contact, before you’re pulling him back to you again.

“Do you have…” you mutter against his skin as you start to kiss down his jaw and neck, “Protection?”

Stiles’ stomach twists with nerves and excitement as he nods. “Yeah, I have a condom in my wallet.”

You smile against his skin, trailing down to his collarbone, “Been hoping one day Lydia would want to jump your bones?”

Stiles groans, tangling his fingers into your hair, “God, shut up.”

You chuckle darkly before gently pushing against his chest so you can move onto your bed.

Time passes in a hazy blur as you and Stiles finish undressing each other between sloppy and heated kisses. You try to go at a moderate pace with him, despite your own eagerness. To your pleasant surprise, Stiles is a quick learner as you talk him through how to touch you and make you feel good. And he makes you feel very good. And despite his own timidness and learning curve, he is very attentive to your needs as well as your comfort levels, constantly checking in and making sure you’re okay.

You’re more than okay by the time you’re done, the two of you collapsing back onto the bed, sweaty and panting.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out staring at the ceiling.

You smirk, pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, “Yup.”

You lay in silence for a few moments as you catch your breaths before Stiles speaks again.

“I hope tonight makes us even, because I think that counts as two additional favors,” He says teasingly, but when you don’t immediately respond, his head turns to you quickly, “You finished both times right?”

You chuckle softly and nod, turning your head towards him as well, “I did.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief, “I did, too.”

“I know you did.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but laughs softly, “Right.”

“And I’d say I was the one doing the favor,” You muse, “Now the next time you find a girl willing to sleep with you, you’ve got some tricks up your sleeve.”

He huffs with a nod, “I guess you’re right.” Another few moments of silence pass between you when Stiles looks at you again, and asks softly, “But seriously, it was good for you?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“When have I ever worried about preserving your feelings? Trust me, if it was bad or you were doing something wrong I would have told you.”

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” he sighs. Another beat. “But like on a scale of one to ten?”

“Stiles!”

“I know, I know.” he regresses. “Can I ask for real though - and full permission to punch me if this is insensitive - but compared to the last guy…was I better?”

He watches you stare at him blankly for a few seconds before he starts to back pedal. “Probably not right? He was probably way more experienced even if he..”

“This was better.”

He turns to you again in surprise.

“You were better.”

Stiles stutters, “R-really?”

You nod, “You’re not an asshole who only thinks about himself. Don’t ever lose that quality.”

Stiles smiles softly, his cheeks warming up again.

“Seriously, it was good. Great even,” You continue, “If that’s what you’re like with me, I can’t imagine how good it would be with a girl you actually like.”

That last statement was like a bucket of cold water splashing over him. Right. You guys hated each other. And you were still the same girl who made his life inexplicably harder this year. But those things were easy to forget while he stared at you, your messy hair splayed across your pillow, your bare skin lit by the soft glow of the candles in your room, with a few noticeable marks across your collarbone that he was responsible for.

But this would be the first and last time this ever happened. And he will probably have complicated feelings about it for the foreseeable future, knowing the memory of his first time will always connect him to you. But he surprisingly feels less guilty than he would have thought.

“I should probably go,” He whispers after another few seconds of taking her and the moment in. Part of him wishes he didn’t have to leave at all and continue living in this bubble of false reality and denial. But he thinks his brain takes over in an act of self preservation to get out of there before he gets in too deep.

“Yeah, you probably should,” You whisper back, taking a deep breath.

He watches you sit up, dragging the sheet covering you up with you. He sucks in a breath as you grab a dark purple robe off of your bedpost and slip it on, covering the rest of your body and taking the image away from him. With that, he also forces himself up, locating his boxers and jeans on the floor and pulling them on.

You circle your bed as he starts to pull on his flannel again. He feels nervous under your gaze, and about how to act right now, making him fumble with the buttons. Without a word, you reach out and slowly and quietly help him finish buttoning it. He takes this one last opportunity to watch your face at this level of proximity, knowing he’ll probably never have the chance to do that again.

As you finish the top button, you look up at his gaze still laser focused on you, and for some reason he doesn’t feel compelled to look away.

“Thank you for tonight,” You say softly with a small smirk playing at your lips, “Thought I just needed a protection spell after the summer I had, but I guess I needed that as well.”

Stiles feels himself smirk too, “Happy to be of service to both.”

You slide your hands across his chest, smoothing out his shirt before taking a deep breath and step back.

“So, business as usual? I’m sure we’ll run into each other again once Scott gets himself into some more supernatural shit, and we’ll be back at each other’s throats in no time.”

Stiles chuckles, “I look forward to it.”

You give him your version of a tiny genuine smile. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

He shakes his head, “I’m sure I can find my way.”

You nod, also taking in his appearance under the glow of the candles while you can. You decide to take the opportunity to close the distance between the two of you and kissing him chastely one last time.

Stiles closes his eyes and reciprocates automatically, but the kiss is over before its even begun. He watches you pull away from him, unable to tear his eyes away from yours.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” you whisper before stepping away and walking around him towards your desk again to clean up.

With his back towards you now, he smiles to himself, huffing in disbelief at the night he’s had.

“Goodnight,” He says back softly as he takes steps towards your door. He glances back at you one last time, before leaving and finding his way back downstairs and out your front door.

Once he shut the door after sliding into the driver's seat, he lets out a long deep breath and rubs his face. Losing his virginity to his self-proclaimed mortal enemy was not on his bingo card for the night - or ever. But the more he sits with it, the more he’s weirdly pleased that it happened. Honestly, it was like best case scenario. Figuring out sex with someone he’s not trying to impress - well, to a certain degree - took some of the pressure off. And now he doesn't have to think about it anymore. Unfortunately, it was really good. Extremely good. Too good to just have been a one time thing, and part of him is disappointed there’s no chance of ever experiencing it again.

It was for the best. The moment hell freezes over is when he’d have actual feelings past irritation and mild rage when it came to you. So he shakes his head, putting their night together behind him as he pulls out of your driveway.

Still in your bedroom, you lean against the wall watching him drive away from the window. You smile to yourself, having a sneaking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you do this. Stiles just didn’t know it yet.

author's note: dying to know what people think of this, not the type of stuff i usually write. firstly, sorry for the lack of steam, i've never written smut and not sure i ever will but hope it alluded to enough for yall. also again, took my witch idea and flipped it into an alternate universe where the reader is a lil evil. there are elements of the other pieces i'm writing that assumes similar lore/backstory for the witch, but in this version, you don't grow up as stiles & scott's bff, you're isolated leading to some villianous tendancies. i also know i hinted at a lot of back story with some pieces from seasons 1-2, with this ultimately taking place right before season 3. so i have some ideas of writing other parts that dive into some of those moments, plus more parts that come after this of course. so let me know what kind of stuff you're interested in seeing from evil!witch x stiles (evil being used pretty loosely) THANK YOU FOR READING!

#stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x witch!reader #cursed from the start #mine #my writing #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic

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aerospectrum · 3 days ago

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"Nothing." Cas insisted, looking up to watch the tears fall- feeling himself swept away by the guilt of his actions and words. "Madison.. I'm sorry, I.. you didn't do anything, I'm sorry I didn't mean--" when she screamed it forced his shoulders to jump up to his ears and surprisingly her shove had force enough to make Cas stumble back. "Madison wait!" he called after her- his eyes squeezed shut with how hard the door slammed- feeling the room ricochet around them.

The three of them listened to the shatter from upstairs and Dean rushed for the steps, Cas’ fingers grazed Dean's wrist before the hunter yanked away from him. "Dean, I just wanted to help-"

"Well you didn't!" Dean barked at him, half towering over him with darkened eyes and muscles tensed. "If you weren't some stupid kid right now, I'd kill you myself with your own blade." Dean spit the words out and almost instantly wished he could've swallowed them down before they'd came out. He watched the shift of emotions, the turmoil and the defeat- all of it and then Castiel's gaze hardened, like somehow he'd garner his grace back and smite them all. Instead...

"I hate you!"

Sam watched the way Cas fled the house and Dean- trapped between going after him or going up to Madison. "Just go check on Madison."

Dean raised his arm above the doorframe, searching for a door key- exhaling relief when he felt the metal. He twisted with the key, hearing it click and slowly he nudged the door open. "Can I come in?" he asked, not wanting to breach the containment of her safety in case she decided to lob something at his head too. "Not...to invalidate you here but... but you know Cooties aren't real, right?" he used the door as his shield for a second longer, then took the risk and stepped in, beelining to take a seat next to her. "I'm sorry." he began. "For all of this, I- I wish you'd called some bullshit ghost investigator instead too." he twirled his thumbs around each other and stared at the space between his knees. "It would've save you a lot of trouble... but I'm kinda happy you fucked up and called us; kinda thought you and I had something.. maybe." he shrugged, trying to soothe the heat of the anger overtaking her. "Even if you did give me cooties." he bumped her elbow with his, trying to prompt a smile.

He inhaled deep and looked around the room at the mess of things she'd thrown around and broken. "That's one hell of an arm you got, want me to clean this up for you?..." he looked at her again. "Madison. The angels are gonna realize that's a children's tale and Gabriel's gonna leave and... things will go back to normal for you again. He shouldn't have said it, I'm not defending him, but I know i've said a helluva lot worse about people before myself; and I wasn't 14 when I did it either...." he wanted to run his hand along her leg or hold her hand and show her some sort of comfort, but every time he thought about it he worried she'd flip out and smack him like she had in the motel.

Running a hand through his hair Dean sighed and dropped both hands to his thighs, unsure what else to say that wouldn't infuriate her or make her feel invisible. "What do you want us to do, Madison?" Dean stood from the bed. "We can leave now, I can get a guy out here to fix that extra door in the wall in your kitchen and we can disappear into obscurity like you've never even called if that's what you want."

Madison sat there dumbfounded.

It was happening again. The slow motion. The delayed words. The slow processing. Her eyes bounced from cas then to Sam, then to Dean, & back to cas. Head tilting slightly trying to understand what he said.

“Why?” She asked softly. Her eyes welling w/ tears. “Why did you do this to me?? What… what did I do to you?”

A few tears slid down her cheeks. Maybe she was a cry baby. A big useless cry baby. “Why would you even say I have cooties…. What did I do to you?”

Her hand came up to wipe her face & she sniffled. “I wish I had never called you all!” She shouted before standing up & pushing cas away & running to the stairs & running upstairs. For the second time in 24 hrs she was slamming the door to her bed room, this time, locking it. In frustration, she reached for the nearest unlucky item which happened to be a glass vase of candy & hurled into at the wall. It shattered & she screamed in anger. Had her furniture been alive they might have cowardly hid. There were a few other items that went flying before she flopped down on her bed putting her head in her hands.

The tears had stopped & she was now just seething. Who was she even supposed to be upset at? Herself? For getting caught in this mess & in deans charms? Cas for lying? Gabriel for breaking a hole into her home? She sat in bed staring around the floor.

#rpwiththelilflower #c; madison #c; dean (there ain't no other men like me)

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kurthummeldeservesbetter · 10 hours ago

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other ideas for what happens after Viktor wakes up:

He and Jayce make out passionately and get the hell out of piltover and then they go spend the rest of their days as a small mechanics/toy shop owners.

Jayce says lmao nah bro you clearly aren’t in the right headspace right now at least rest for a day before leaving and Viktor is like whelp can’t argue against that logic

Viktor is like you want to be the John the Baptist to my Jesus and Jayce is like I don’t know what the fuck that is but sure

Jayce gives him a fluffy robe instead of that magic sheet cloak and Viktor realizes he can’t be a cult leader looking like that so he just pouts in the lab for the rest of time

Viktor amnesia AU????? Oh the possibilities. He’s like hi I just got here and I’m purple. why am I naked and also who are you. Who am I. Do I have a name, a last name too perhaps? oooooo and jayce is like well we’re partners. And Viktor is like married? And Jayce is like whelp fuck it yeah. Married! (That way he can also solve the problem of Viktor not having a last name)

OOOOO Viktor’s magic/hexcore cult also affects Jayce? Feels compelled to follow him no matter what? And Viktor is now Came Back Different and is like well don’t know what to do about that!

Viktor gets out of the hexcore 3d painting whatever the fuck he was in and he’s just. Back to normal. Regular healthy man. Viktor is like well my terminal illness and chronic pain is gone but now how do I style myself without my cane?? he leaves to go figure it out lmao

Viktor gets out and everything is the same except he’s got a Jersey accent. Like a deep one. He doesn’t know it’s changed. Jayce is like well fuck. *contemplates pushing him back in to try and reverse it*

Viktor gets out and he’s like well I’m pissed you didn’t destroy it and also made more weapons but I’d likely use it to save you too (debatable for some but work with me here) let’s just start fresh and also I need real clothes before we stop this war. (He and Jayce also make out in this one too.)

Viktor gets out and he’s a cat. Jayce is happy. (He’s allergic to dogs).

#arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayce x viktor #arcane spoilers #jayvik

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simp-ly-writes · 2 days ago

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Breaking Character

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Gentleman!Boyfriend!Spencer Agnew x gn!Partner!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You try your hardest to beat Gentleman Spencer at his own game of saying increasingly outlandish comments while trying to get him to break character!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social-media au, established relationship, fluff, suggestive themes, attempt at humour.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,736

─ · · A/N: Asks are closed for a little while but that you to this amazing ask was from an anon! 🫶

─────── · ·

"Hello all you lovely watchers behind the screen, now I would usually save such corse words for the bedroom but you all appear lucky at the games table tonight," you cast a smile and wink towards the camera. Adjusting your wig before taking a drag out of your long fake cigarette. Your goal today was to get your boyfriend, Spencer, to break Character today in a video.

"As you can see, I am joined by a handful of my friends, especially this special friend beside me, remind me of your name again, dear?" you ask with a slight tilt to your head as you eye Spencer form his top hat down to his suspenders.

Spencer tries to hold your look before breaking under your stare, instead turning his back to you and turning fully towards the camera. "Good-day to you all, I am a gentleman here to play quite the crass game. Monopoly: Cheaters Addition, now I believe my wife would have something to say about this, but I wouldn't remember the names of any of them!"

"Ah'll tell ya what, mister, you're staring to sound like my fifth husband, couldn't remember my name while spending quality time with me inside the room nor outside. Now that I think about it, I can't seem to remember his name... maybe I should start to remember yours, m'sure a man like you would like that~" you tease yet keep to your chair observing as Spencer rolls his shoulders and turns to face you head on in character. By the wild look in his eyes, you can tell you are getting to him and by the end of this, you would be sure to hold him in the palm of your hand (in character of course!).

Disregarding your later statement, Gentleman Spencer clears his throat before replying, "And what type of man is your fifth husband, dashing and a rich-lad I would presume for something as gorgeous as you?"

You giggle to his words, hand reaching over the table to pick your piece, "Well, how am I s'possed to know? I'm only on my fourth but I'm sure he'll be out of the picture soon. I like to think I ran him dry in more ways than one-" Spencer begins coughing again before leaning down to erupt in laughter as does the rest of the cast and crew.

"Well, If yee two are done fucking around, It is time to introduce I- Thee masterful wizard thee-self, me" Shayne introduces his character, pointed a crocked finger and eye between the two of you. You shrug, taking a drag of your cigarette.

"Do tell me dear when it is my turn next, you see games of strategy are not for people like me- right?" you coyly state to Spencer who nods his head, still not ready to go back in character as you can see him taking in deep breathes to keep himself form falling into another pit of laughter and all you can do is smile, wiggling your eyebrows for all of that to go to hell.

"And it appears that the most intelligent always wait to go last. Names Tinky-Winky and I'm here to win. Should be easy with the table we have here tough-" Amanda tries to get the game moving before you put in one last jab.

"I wouldn't be to sure about that, what did you say, Rinky-Pinky?-?

"Tinky-Winky," Amanda clarifies with an eye-roll that you match with more exaggeration "Yes, tink-wink, whatever you're called just know that I will enjoy watching you all lose."

"Whatever you say, mobster," Amanda quips before quickly going over the rules as you place your head in your hands, blowing the hair out of your face.

─────── · ·

As the game progressed into the early stages, whatever civilized conversation you all tried to ensure at the start of the game was out the window, now full-blow yelling and screaming at one another as even the staff backed away, watching as the chaos exploded through the room and you all reverted fully into character.

"HEY! You just cheated!" Tinky-Winky Amanda screamed out to you, pointing their purple-gloved mitt in your face.

"Cheated?" You faked innocence, batting your eyelashes while speaking in a high pitched tone, "I would never cheat, thats something I save for me and my husbands!" you retort, now also standing up from your seat, hands gripping the table as you lena forwards to exaggerate your point before Spencer is pulling you back down to the table.

"Now I just don't like anyone putting their hands on my without me sayin' nothin' but I do like the feel of your hands, keep me grounded would ya? I'm forgetting my manners here with this lad," you mumble to the Gentleman beside you as he blushed bright red before starting to pull his hand away, coughing and choking on a reply only for you to hold in hand in position on your arm with a wink before returning your stolen money back to the bank and starting the new round.

"Penguin man! You seem a strange and pathetic fellow..." you off-handedly comment towards Spencer as Amanda takes her turn.

"Well yes, it comes from-" Spencer begins to speak before you continue your sentence.

"...I like that in a man," your voice drops to a sultry tone, head leaning against his arm enjoying the way Spencer sputters into nervous laughter and grips your hand.

─────── · ·

You noticed just how close Spencer had come multiple times during the filming but he had yet to call for a break, you were so sure of it at the start but had yet to get back to that point besides a few blushes and loaded looks your way but you stayed determined nevertheless.

Taking a long drag from your cigarette, you imagined it casting a hard cloud around and past Spencer head as you watched him take his turn, awaiting yours next. "Remember to win," you quiped with a sarcastic tone.

"I'll keep that in mind, dear. Now do be one and let this man concentrate," he replied with a playful glare in your direction before getting a snake-eyes that would nearly bankrupt the gentleman when landing on the dumpster wizards Shayne's hotel. "Fuck!" Spencer swore, tossing his top hat behind himself in outrage.

"I think the man needs to concentrate even more, I could help you~" you tease, picking up the top hat and placing it gently back on his head. Spencer only shakes his head once the hat is firmly back on. "I'm sure my mistresses are better-suited for such works, whatever would your husband think?"

"So outrageous of you to think my husband would do the thinking..." you mumble before picking up the dice in your hand and extending your palm with them towards Spencer. "Blow on these here die would ya, doll?" you ask as Shayne yells over the table, currently in a headlock from Tinky-Winky. "I thought it was custom to get the working women to blow your dice!?"

"Well he might be no dame but you're a dime in my eyes doll," you throw back without missing a beat.

"Ah-well. I may have a dime in my money bin! They make for a leisurely swim-" the Gentlemen comes into conversation as you are quick again to come to a response, "Would ya take me for a dip sometime then? I would love to see what else ya bring to the table?"

Spencer blinks, not wanting to look you into the eyes just yet and talks towards Amanda, "You know, I really can't say for certain, but do you think it's possible they're in it for the money and not my shining personality or physical connection?

And you do not allow time for Amanda to get a word in, knowing that now more than ever will get Spencer to crack his character, "It's not the money that I have my eyes on, sugar. I heard a little something about aerodynamics and clothes that I'm looking to test, and that test seems definitely responsive..." you end with a smirk watching as Spencer stands and turns around to face the wall.

"OKAY! OKAY!" Spencer admits to defeat as you stand up and cheer, running to hug him from behind as you both sway back and forth. "I made you loose character~" you sing-song.

"Yeah, yeah you did. Good job, lovely," Spencer groans before you both are told to re-take your seats and finish the game properly. To everyone surprise the Dumpster Wizard Shayne somehow ended up winning by pulling a Angela and stealing all the money as you were celebrating your boyfriends defeat in good fun.

"There is no way you could have won, I demand a recount!" you announce, throwing all your bills to the table. "And here I thought you weren't in it for the money," Spencer teases back. "Shut up, its only an added bonus," you snakily reply only to ultimately accept your defeat.

"Well, thank you all for sitting through this shit-show. We hope you join us again-" you begin to outro. "But not again for this exactly," Spencer cuts you off and clarify as the video fades to black by the sound of all your combined laughter flooding the studio once again.

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🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Cheaters Monopoly!

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 32k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 109k views 5 days ago only the politest of games... click to read more

998 Comments

username01 Spencer really out here acting all hot and flustered- simply adorable!

username43 The group of characters I never knew I needed, all we were missing was Chosen!Trevor and Angela to really round out the chaos of this episode!

username88 So in love with this Monopoly: Cheaters Edition- I never want it to end!!

username21 so... gentlemen's Just Dance when?

↳ username46 OMG YESSS, THIS HAS TO BE MADE A THING!!

username03 i love how determined (name) was to get Spencer to break character and how good he took it!

username94 really love how (name) was the one to make all of Spencers outrageous comments appear like the normal ones in comparison to theirs.

username77 Wait so i'm confused, im a new smosh fan and are these actors acting like they're dating or are they already together????

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala

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rootspiral · 13 hours ago

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(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

IT'S TIME TO REWATCH AGATHA ALL ALONG, WITCHES! And as usual, spoilers below.

episode 1, Seekest Thou The Road

Wanda is dead (no she ain't). As a result, her spell is weakened and Agatha has changed from her nosy neighbor character to detective Agnes (or caught the true crime bug, as Herb will put it.)

Stinky grimy Agnes, so serious and depressed. As soon as she appears onscreen she's humming the Ballad.

Detective Agnes has just been recalled to action after being off duty for a while. She was punished for "punching a suspect", which is code for going after Wanda. Agnes points out that now the suspect is a convicted felon, i.e. that she was right after all and Wanda is dangerous and evil. "I can't be right and wrong" she says. "Yes, you can" says Herb, because both Agatha and Wanda are villain and victim. And lol at the police tape symbolizing Herb's fence. You know the poor guy is in his garden looking down at Agnes in her Bonher family tshirt, wondering what the hell is going on.

oh that's a seriously good shot

Agatha looks heartbroken when she sees Wanda's body, doesn't she? She looks so sorry.

Herb (the real Herb behind the illusion) confirms that Agatha is acting different than usual.

THIRD TIME SHE DISCREETLY DRIES HER TEARS

There is nothing funny about Detective Agnes. Or rather, it's funny to watch her because she's so intense, but we laugh at her, she's not being a clown on purpose like Agatha usually is. And Agatha right now is in a lot of pain, even more than usual having completely lost her agency. This character so unkempt, so sad, so doggedly searching for answers, is more true to Agatha's real self than what she usually lets people see. Deep down she's just a tragic lesbian wet rat.

Somebody called in to have the body found, and I think that somebody was Rio. Why would the body be next to the water otherwise? It's like the River of Life laid her gently where Agatha could find her. In other words, Wanda's death brought her to Agatha. I'm curious about these woods too, we know they don't actually exist as this is all in Agatha's head, but where did the idea come from? Are these the woods where she killed the Salemites? Where she gave birth to Nicky? Or where she buried him?

Agatha's victims from the finale flashing throughout the opening. Wherever it may bend, I'll see you at the end.

"based on the danish series WANDAVISDYEN" never fails to destroy me. and it's so clever too, it's like they're telling first time watchers that yes, this seems like a grim detective show, but you clever audiences know that things are not as they seem and this is a parody, right?? this is not serious at all, it's funny! Laugh! Except. It's not funny. It's not funny at all. And you're going to realize only when it's too late. It's the same thing they do with Sharon/Mrs. Hart, they lure you in with laughs only to hit you with heartbreak. This show is not a comedy at all. It's at its very core a senseless tragedy.

Sarah/Dottie lives next door too, was Agatha talking to her through a window, or does the library desk symbolize another fence? This poor woman, hasn't she suffered enough? But they all more or less try to help Agnes, that's sweet. Has anyone from SWORD or whomever dropped in to talk to them, did the Avengers just decide to leave Agatha there? Did Monica (or Ralph) even explain to the poor people of Westview that she's a witch, or do they just think she's a random neighbor who couldn't be saved from Wanda's Hex?

THE MAILMAN CONTINUES BEING SUSPICIOUS. Is Agatha putting words in his mouth, or was he (the "messanger") sent by someone to warn her about the Darkhold being destroyed???

her FACE when she sees Rio

and the way Rio just stares and stares. When you rewatch this scene knowing that this is the first time she gets to see Agatha in centuries... and she has to be cool and she has to be gentle. I think it's deliberate that they put Phil/Harold/Ross Geller in here, because he's one of the funniest people in Westview and it's suggesting a first time viewer to read this scene as a comedy. Except it's a cosmic tale of tragedy and heartbreak, but you're not supposed to notice yet, even if it's right there under your nose.

Stop being such a lone wolf, Agnes. Or rather, stop being such a sad and lonely covenless witch, Agatha.

Rio laughs her delighted little laugh, licks her lips, looks out the window for a moment as if overwhelmed, then goes back looking at Agatha and basically devouring her with her eyes. ("te veo.") (thank you for my life aubrey plaza.) Agatha stares daggers back, but her body language stars getting defensive. She feels very vulnerable.

Yep, defensive. And wistful.

She is doing her job, like always. But she's also going above and beyond. There is technically no need for her to wake Agatha up, but here she is, dropping gentle clues, guiding her with such patience and care.

"If you wanna be in control you can be" is said in such a kind tone, but it's also sexy?? I think Rio really likes for Agatha to take control, in a lot of ways. Her body language is the opposite of what Agatha is doing too.

Oh noes she's making herself so small now. She's like, intrigued and angry and happy and scared to see Rio. They're both being so tentative!! And she doesn't actually know who Rio is because she's under the damn spell, so her body language and feelings are pure instinct. They come from somewhere very very true and deep. (and LOL that mug says "get a clue")

Is this who you are now, Agatha? the intense but lonely detective? she's genuinely interested, because Rio investigates Agatha just as Agatha investigates everybody else. Rio simply cannot get enough of her. and she keeps talking with this gentle, warm, understated tone.

Gains personal space. Keeps staring and staring.

oh now we're leaning. they do this every scene they are together, they keep getting closer and closer even if they don't mean to, like magnets.

Agatha literally bolts to the door and tells her to leave. Rio's presence is so overwhelming in so many different and complicated ways, and she doesn't even understand why that is at the moment. Kathryn Hahn is playing this perfectly straight (no pun intended), there is genuine pain in her voice.

"Te veo", which is not "see you," but I see you, I'm always looking for you, I'm always watching. And I finally see you, after all this time.

Oh, honey.

I'm running out of space again, but I promise I'll continue this tomorrow. Thank you for all the notes you guys, I was not expecting so many! I'm doing this mostly to amuse myself, but it's nice to know that the brainrot is collective 🙃🙃🙃

#agatha all along #character study #screenshots #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza

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anpanman95 · 20 hours ago

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so I just read a post from @everythingiloveblog and—first of all go check it out it has incredible insights and constructive criticism— I feel OP has made an incredible point which brings me to something that bothers me from episode 10:

Okay. I understand Jack and Joke have a…very unusual relationship. I know they’ve been through hell and back, together and apart, and their bond is stronger than ever.

And, ever since the beginning, they show us a dynamic that doesn’t promise to be all “lovey-dovey” or cute or anything like that.

That’s fine. We’re all here for it. Every relationship is different, and actors Yin and War have made it clear Jack and Joke’s dynamic was going to be different.

But, and this is a big, big but, there are things I do not agree with, and I’ll start by casting light on this moment right here where they say “I love you” for the first time.

Emphasis on the first time.

That was not a first time “I love you”. That’s not how you say I love you for the first time to your lover with whom you’ve been through hell and back.

I mean yes, they’ve shown it plenty, but still. This moment was, and I’m very sorry if I ruffle some feathers, to me, very bro-coded (there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just not very engaging for me)

And as much as I love their dynamic, as much as I love their characters, it felt incredibly underwhelming and lacking of a tenderness I was desperately craving after such a long slow burn. I know I may be coming from a more “romantic” point of view, but what’s wrong with a little romance?

I really would have loved them to be a bit sweeter, or more tender about it.

Another thing is the closing scene at the hospital; sure, Joke later tells Jack he was the one who betrayed, but Jack didn’t know that right away, and the first thing he saw was the man he loves in shambles, bawling his eyes out, visibly in need to be held, and he didn’t take him into his arms nor made any move to get at least physically closer to him.

That put me off, if I’m being honest. Aren’t they supposed to be in love and care for one another? Jack did say “I’ll only focus on you” and, yeah, he’s angry and confused about Save and worried about his daughter but it would have been very human of him to at least seek and give comfort to the person he loves.

They do have their moments, their chemistry is top tier, and that’s undeniable. But there are certain little actions that would be very realistic for them to partake in, and it leaves me a tad unsatisfied when they don’t.

Of course, I’m still eating this up, I’ll take anything. Yin and War did an incredible job with this show, and this is just a bit of criticism, done in my most humble, respectful opinion.

Thanks for reading! I know some will not agree and that’s fine! Let’s just all be respectful about it! ✨🫶🏽

(post from OP)

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princess-charlie-of-hell · 3 days ago

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An Charlastor AU where Charlie and Alastor swap their places as "Hero" and "Villain". Charlie is still the founder of the Hazbin hotel and Alastor trying to help her but their reasons for doing so are different than in Canon

Alastor main goal is to get free from his deal and to get the ownership of his soul back. He doesn't want to get all powerful and how he calls it "pull all the strings". Here is helping Charlie because he thinks that maybe the princess of hell is able to help him with his situation. Of course he still doesn't tell her that because of his pride or maybe he isn't allowed to talk about his deal. He is still trying to get close to Charlie because he thinks "if I befriend her, the chances of her helping me and not telling anyone of my deal are higher". He still would act his usual creepy way because he doesn't really know how to befriend other people. He also is nicer to Husk and would threat him like friend instead of a pet.

From the outside Charlie is still her nice and sweet persona who is the founder of the hotel and trying to redeem sinners. But in this version it is more of an act kind of like Angel!Charlie and she is in reality very manipulative . She is trying to redeem sinners because she wants to invade heaven to regain control of both hell and heaven. A huge difference In this AU is that she knows that Lilith is in heaven and Vaggie a former exorcist.

Lilith and Charlie both are working together because we need more evil Mother daughter Duos. Their plan is it that once Charlie redeems enough sinners that Lilith will lead a Uprising to attack heaven from the inside . Lucifer However doesn't know anything about it because Charlie and Lilith think that he is not able to handle it because of his depressions and are not sure if he would support their plans.

An other big difference will be the relationship between Charlie and Vaggie like Canon they are still together. But are definitely not healthy. Because Charlie knows about Vaggies past she would use it to guilt trip her into helping her like she would make Vaggie threaten sinners to join her hotel against their will. Charlie would use that to her advantage making Vaggie the bad guy between the both so that she will look better in comparison. Vaggie would think that she deserves to be seen like a bad person because she feels guilty for killing so many sinners and she is doing it for her sweet girlfriend who saved her from the streets. Despite Charlie knowing about Vaggie being actually an angel, she doesn't tell her that she knows simply because that will make Vaggie feel even more bad about herself.

Charlie still accepts Alastor help because she thinks that a powerful ally like the feared Radio demon will give her an advantage not realizing that he not that powerful anymore. So he is still her hotelier and business partner.

Like already said Charlastor will be happening in this AU. After some time Alastor noticed that Charlie isn't really that what she seems like, he sees how she threats her girlfriend and that it reminds him of himself and other overlords. He sees her "friendly smile" and is the only one realizing how wrong it seems. After all he is an expert in smiling. Charlie noticed how he seems to be weaker than she heard from his stories. Instead of powerful he seems more tired than anything. Both of them get more obsessed with the other one trying to figure out the secrets from each other.

There is a bit more which is going change but I am going to write in later post more of it. Right now the AU is named "double faced allies" because I can't think of anything else but maybe I am going to change it later

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #charlastor #radiobelle #hazbin hotel au #lilith morningstar #Charlastor au #charlie x alastor #hazbin hotel vaggie #tw toxic relationship #Double faced allies au #musicalshipping #alastor x charlie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin lilith

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sockatoothewafflebird · 2 days ago

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this is the third installment of my series of posts analyzing the arcane s2 intro!!! go to the tag "arcane intro analysis" for the previous posts. remember, SPOILERS FOR ACT 1!!!

okay. let's get into it. again.

it's time for the beat drop!!! and hoooh boy.

one thing i really love about s2's intro is that it plays with the lighting in a very specific and very meaningful way. with ekko you can see his shadows are like the hands of a clock which alludes to his time ability; with jinx and vi in the beginning the light highlights parts of their faces to emphasize how the season will change them; the list goes on.

with this part, jinx has four shadows. in a literal interpretation of this, it means she's splitting apart. it means she's losing which parts of herself are powder and which parts are jinx, and which ones are something else entirely.

or maybe, alternatively, she finally realizes the different parts of herself and accepts them, kind of finding herself in a way. waving the flag of revolution, with hope in her eyes. the strip of light flies across her determined face and i LOVE that detail. especially the way the orange and blue lights combat, but compliment, each other.

OKAY ONTO THE VI AND CAIT SCENE OH MY GOODNESS🔥🔥🔥

this is the best screenshot i've ever taken. anyway

at first it's just vi, and it focuses on her face, probably to emphasize the smudged tattoo, reminding us of her loss of identity.

but then it focuses on vi and cait. and cait is shrouded in darkness save for just a couple of frames (it was hell trying to pause at the right time to catch it).

i think this means that vi will begin to see her as a ghost, as nothing more than a silhouette. caitvi divorce arc is gonna go so damn hard.

at first i saw the kiss-then-push-away bit as them butting heads, but then i realized that it makes more sense for them to repel each other, like oil and water. oh, the misery...

but then i was thinking about it. and i realized, it can be both.

with cait becoming a dictator, vi and her will probably indirectly do things that contradict the other, or thwart the other's efforts. they will be butting heads in arc 2, maybe even arc 3. or maybe i'm wrong about that, but i doubt it.

moooving on- we've all talked about this screenshot!

caitlyn's shadow becoming the silhouette of a monarch, her fingers seeming to have blood on them. her being in clear distress, going utterly mad because of the weight of the crown on her head. been there, done that. genius use of lights and shadows in my opinion.

and, oh, before i finish off this installment, let me just point out how much of a punch-to-the-gut the parallel here is. (or, rather, the butt of a gun to the gut. yeah i'm sorry)

in s1 caitlyn was everything she wanted to be. now? she's afraid, angry, confused, stressed to high hell. a dictator, an enforcer of the system she wanted to change. she's everything she swore to destroy, for lack of a better phrase.

once again image limit is forcing me to continue this series of posts. and even if i could add another image, the pacing of this analysis would get really weird. there should only be one more, so stay tuned! once again the tag for the other parts is "arcane intro analysis". happy reading if you made it this far!

#arcane intro analysis #arcane intro #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 spoilers #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #vi arcane #vi #caitvi #jinx #jinx arcane #arcane analysis #arcane theories #waffles word wall #waffles analyzes things

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 14 hours ago

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Denial, Like the River

A Steddie fanfiction

A/N: Minors DNI. Warning, a little smutty. Tw, homophobia

Steve entered the RV, wincing at his wounds. He closed the door and locked it. He slipped off his jacket and then his shirt before grabbing the first aid kit. Just as he opened the box, he heard a loud whimpering. Steve paused and looked around for the sound. Was there an animal in here? He quickly found the source. Eddie was curled up behind the driver's seat, crying.

"Eddie?" Steve asked in concern.

Eddie stood up quickly and wiped his face. He grabbed the first aid kit from Steve.

"Here, let me help you with that," Eddie said, sniffling.

"Are you - no, what a stupid fucking question. Of course, you're not okay," Steve said, and Eddie snorted. "How are you holding up?"

There was a long pause as Eddie focused on unwrapping his bandages and cleaning his wounds. He was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed ointment on his bites. Eddie turned him around to work on the wounds on his arms and back as well. Even though it stung, Eddie's hands also felt good.

"Honestly, trying not to go crazy and trying to stay sane for the kids, too," he finally replied.

"Oh, man, you don't have to do that. I think they don't want to admit how scared they are, hell, I'm scared, too," Steve said.

"You are?" Eddie asked as he finished putting the new bandages on Steve.

Steve turned around to face Eddie again and leaned against the table.

"Of course, just because we've all been through this before doesn't mean that this isn't still terrifying as shit for all of us. I think we've just gotten used to focusing on what's important, and that's saving this town. . .saving you," Steve said. "Man, Dustin's terrified of losing you. He loves you, and I can kind of see why. You're not alone, Eddie."

Steve hated the way his bottom lip quivered and the way his big brown eyes filled with tears. They were very doe-y eyed. The tears spilled over, and Eddie let out a sob. It broke Steve’s heart.

"Everything I touch - Chrissy - I, I'm fucking cursed," Eddie cried.

"No, man, you're not cursed, this fucking town is," Steve said softly.

He stood up and pulled Eddie into his arms. He squeezed him tightly despite the fact that his wounds were killing him. Eddie's body shook as he cried into Steve’s shoulder. Steve cradled the back of his head and began running his hand through his hair. Well, he tried to. Eddie's hair was badly tangled. Eddie winced and hissed as Steve’s fingers snagged at a knot. They both laughed, and that brief moment of comedic relief allowed Eddie to catch his breath. The sniffles subsided, and Eddie went quiet as he continued to keep his head tucked in the crook of Steve’s neck. Eddie let out a sigh as he pulled back. Steve freed a hand and wiped away Eddie's tears, causing a smile to appear on his face. Eddie moved, and suddenly, they were kissing. Everything went blank and fuzzy. There were no thoughts in Steve’s head as he immediately responded to the kiss. It took him a few seconds, but Steve finally realized what was happening. He pulled away.

"What are we doing?" Steve asked.

"You never made out with a friend before?" Eddie asked.

"No," Steve said. "Have you?"

"All the time with Jeff. We're nerds who can't get girls. . .I mean, except that one girl who slept with me as a dare. We like to call it lip hugging," Eddie said and paused, looking sad. "I thought maybe, Chrissy. . ."

"I'm sure she would have, man, without it being a dare. You're hot. . .for a guy," Steve said, and Eddie laughed. "And you're a good man."

"Thanks. . .and thanks for the lip hug, man," Eddie winked. "You're really good at it."

"Thanks for patching me up," Steve said with a smile, and Eddie moved to leave. "Eddie?"

Eddie turned around to face him, looking happier than he did before.

"Yeah?"

"Are we - I mean, are we friends?" Steve asked.

Eddie moved closer to him and brushed a knuckle to Steve’s chin.

"Definitely, big boy," Eddie said and placed a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before bouncing out of the RV.

"EDDDIEEE!"

A chill shot through Steve as he came back from the Creel House with Nancy and Robin when he heard Dustin's scream. Their victory of defeating Vecna and watching his body burning to a crisp was short-lived. Steve shared a look with Nancy and Robin. He didn't hesitate. He took off, running in the direction of Dustin's screams. Dustin was leaning over Eddie's body when they found him. Eddie was covered in blood, surrounded by bat bites, and lying so still. . .Steve felt a cold feeling shoot through his chest. He collapsed next to Eddie.

"Steve, he's not breathing," Dustin sobbed.

Steve felt his stomach wrench, and he wanted to throw up at the look in Dustin's eyes. Steve pressed his ear to Eddie's chest and cursed. He told him not to be a hero, and what did he do? Steve immediately started to perform CPR. Eddie gasped against his mouth and Steve tried not to think about the last time he felt Eddie's lips against his. He pulled back.

"Eddie's breathing! Get to the gate! Now!" Steve yelled as he pulled Eddie into his arms. "Before it closes!"

Nancy and Robin immediately helped Dustin to the gate while Steve did the same with Eddie. He wasn't sure how he was managing to carry Eddie to the gate, but he could guess that it was adrenaline. They helped Steve get Eddie through the gate, and they didn't wait to watch it close before rushing to the hospital. Everything after that happened so fast. Them wheeling Eddie away, not being able to see him, Hopper coming back, and Dr. Owens storming in with a cover story. While most people seemed to buy it, there were still others who weren't quite believing it. So, while Eddie needed to finish his healing, Steve was quick to offer up his house to hide Eddie. He offered it up to Wayne, too, but he said he was staying with a friend, and judging by the way he said it, Steve figured that this friend was a special one. He did give Wayne a key and told him he could stop by whenever he could, which he did. Steve loved it. It felt a lot more cheerful with them both hanging around.

"What's on the tube?" Eddie asked as he plopped on the couch.

It's been several few weeks of healing for both of them. Although Steve had gotten finished faster than Eddie. Their scars were still quite hard to look at it and it was definitely hard to wear shirts, so they went shirtless whenever they could. Steve and Eddie were currently shirtless now, sprawled out on the couch.

"Absolutely nothing," Steve sighed.

"Bummer," Eddie said, crossing his arms, and then glanced over at Steve. "So, you never said how you feel about things ending between you and Wheeler again."

"Actually, it went better than before. We were both a lot more honest with each other, and we're both happy that we tried again. We no longer feel ashamed about what happened that night, and we both know now that we'll always love each other. We, uh, both want different things. So, actually, I feel really good about it," Steve said.

"Well, that's great, man, really," Eddie grinned. "I, uh, never thanked you."

"For what?" Steve asked.

"For carrying me out of hell," Eddie said. "For saving my life."

"I was happy to do it, Eddie, I'm glad you're here," he said softly.

Eddie leaned over and pressed his lips to Steve’s. He cupped the back of Eddie's head and responded eagerly. They haven't done this since the RV, and honestly, Steve had been looking forward to it. He missed the feeling of Eddie's lips. He groaned when Eddie pulled back.

"I just want to thank you, Stevie," Eddie said. "What better way than to give you another lip hug?"

"I'm going to need another hug," Steve whispered.

"Gladly," Eddie said.

"There's nothing on TV anyway," he said.

"Noted."

Eddie climbed into his lap, placing his legs on either side of his hips. He kissed Steve, matching his eagerness from earlier. Steve gasped into his mouth, letting Eddie slip his tongue inside. He placed his hands on Eddie's hips, encouraging him to move them. Eddie rocked his hips and grinded against his clothed hardening cock. A feeling of euphoria rose up inside of Steve. He never felt like this with another man. . .well, he never had another man ride him like Eddie was currently doing. Although there were times with Tommy when they would wrestle, that Steve’s stomach and chest would grow warm. He always chalked it up to getting hot. No, Steve was even warmer than those times he rolled around with Tommy. He moved his hands up Eddie's back and then to his stomach to move them up, gently caressing his scars.

He cupped Eddie's nippleless pec, running his thumb over the scar. It was just as good as cupping a breast. The way Eddie shuddered underneath him told Steve he liked it, but he stopped moving his hips, and his kissing grew softer. Steve broke the kiss, pulled him closer, and shifted him until Steve was to face where Eddie's nipple used to be. He kissed the spot gently at first. Eddie sighed and moaned, curling his fingers into Steve’s hair. He grew more passionate with his kisses, opening his mouth over it. Steve took the bit of skin in his mouth and sucked on it like he would a nipple. Eddie let out a curse. Steve knew he wasn't completely healed yet and that there was some pain, so he pulled back, but Eddie tugged on his hair, keeping him there. Steve bit down.

"JESUS H CHRIST!"

Steve smirked as he pulled away, looking at Eddie.

"You can just call me Steve," he replied.

Eddie flashed his dimples at Steve before sliding off his lap and down to the floor onto his knees. He slipped his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s sweats and boxers. Steve watched with interest as Eddie started sliding them down, and he lifted his hips to help Eddie out. He peeled them all the way off, leaving Steve naked before him except for his socks. Eddie spread Steve’s legs apart and looked down, his eyes dark.

"Big boy, indeed. . .it's not gay if I say it's not gay especially if I'm only thanking you for saving my life, right?" Eddie asked.

"Sounds logical to me," Steve said.

"Hmm, looks like it could use a hug."

Eddie dove between his legs, taking Steve into his mouth.

"Fuck!"

Over the next few weeks, it all escalated from blowjobs to hand jobs, grinding naked against each other until it turned into full blow sex. Steve loved every minute of it. He loved the way Eddie manhandled him, and at the same time, he could be so gentle with him. He loved the way that they both switched as well as fought to be underneath or on top, biting each other and marking each other up along the way. They fucked in the showers, in the kitchen, and on the couch. They had luckily managed to avoid getting caught by Wayne. There were suddenly many situations where there was nothing on TV even when there were tons of stuff on. They didn't talk about it, what they were, or what they were doing. Steve should have known, though, that it was all over when Eddie started going out with Jeff and Doug.

"Oops, Sorry!" Steve heard a giggle come from the hallway and the sound of something breaking.

"Don't worry about it, my roommate's cool with it," Eddie said.

Steve was relaxing on the couch after working all day and giving rides to Dustin. He had hoped to finally cuddle on the couch with Eddie after not seeing him for the past couple of weeks. Eddie had gotten busy working on playing with Corroded Coffin again, and while he has been practicing here, he's mostly been practicing with the guys. Now, it was the first time he was seeing him, and Eddie had brought a girl home. What the fuck? Steve watched as Eddie moved past the entryway, kissing the girl and moving her back against the doorway. She had long strawberry blonde hair, and that was all he could see. Suddenly, Eddie broke the kiss and spotted Steve.

"You don't mind, do you?" Eddie asked.

Steve swallowed his hurt and smiled at him, as well as the bubbly girl in Eddie's arms.

"No, I don't."

"Except that you totally do mind," Robin said.

Steve was stacking videos a week later, and according to Robin, he was stacking them rather angrily.

"No, Robin, I really don't. It's basically his house, too," Steve said. "For whatever reason, they're taking a really long time to find Wayne and Eddie a place."

"Maybe Wayne moved in with his special friend and assumed that Eddie was happy living with you," Robin said.

"I mean, I would be happy if that was the case," Steve said. "I like having Eddie there."

"You don't seem to like having his girlfriend there," Robin pointed out.

"Rebecca is a really nice girl," Steve said. "I don't have a problem with her."

"Maybe you're just jealous," Robin said.

Steve’s eyes snapped to hers. Did she somehow know? He hadn't really been able to explain to Robin about what's been going on because he couldn't exactly tell her when he didn't know himself. . .especially about Eddie. No, she couldn't, right?

"What?" Steve asked.

"Eddie suddenly became your best friend while I've been busy getting closer to Vickie, and now you no longer have that. Plus, you're lonely, and you totally wish that you could have what we have," Robin said.

"Right, yeah," Steve scoffed.

"What did you think I meant?" Robin asked.

"Nothing, Robin," Steve said.

"Oh my God!" Robin exclaimed with wide eyes, and Steve cursed. "You have a crush on Rebecca!"

"Yeah, Robin. You got it. That's it," Steve scoffed again.

"Then what is it? I mean, judging by the way you're acting and your absolutely annoyance of Rebecca, I'd say you're jealous that she's with Eddie and you're not," Robin said and then snorted. "God, I make myself laugh sometimes. You're like the straightest man alive."

"Oh, yeah, Robin. You got me! I'm totally in love with Eddie! I want to kiss him and hold him. I totally want to marry him and have his babies," Steve rolled his eyes. "I wish I was Rebecca."

With a jolt, Steve realized that what he had said hadn't been sarcastic at all. He wanted all those things with Eddie. He thought about how he was with the kids, how he rants, how passionate he was, and despite how scary he pretended to be, he was the softest man alive, especially when he was with Steve. He missed being held by Eddie. He missed talking intimately with him, and he hated that Rebecca probably got to do all that with him. Except that Rebecca and Eddie hadn't known each other that long, so how intimate were they being? Does she know about his asshole of a father and Eddie's fear of turning into him? Does she share the same fear with him that Steve does about his own father? He wonders if she holds Eddie after a nightmare the way Steve used to do but now no longer gets to. He hates the idea of all of that and he hates being reminded of it when he hears them fuck through the walls. Oh god.

"Except that I - ," Steve swallowed thickly, looking at Robin with wide eyes. "Except that maybe - "

Robin stared at him, her eyes wide and her mouth dropping in shock. Just as Steve was working up the courage to finish that sentence, the bell above the door rang as a customer entered. Steve stumbled as he went to greet the customer, almost blurting out the old Scoops Ahoy greeting as he did so. Steve could feel Robin's eyes on him all day, but she didn't push him to talk about it. He wondered if somehow he had always known about it but chose to ignore it. Steve’s thoughts turned to Vickie and remembered how adamant he had been about her liking girls. Did he somehow know then?

"Steve, are you even paying attention to me?" Dustin asked.

"What? Yeah, yeah, you were going on and about how cool Rebecca is," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "I still can't believe Eddie introduced Rebecca to you guys without talking to me."

Several weeks later, Steve was currently driving Dustin to Gareth's house for their Hellfire meeting. He didn't know why Eddie couldn't drive Dustin, but he supposed it was so he could make out with Rebecca in the back of Eddie's van.

"Why are you acting like you and Eddie are divorced parents?" Dustin asked.

"I'm not! I'm just saying a heads up would be nice!" Steve exclaimed.

"What's your problem with Rebecca, anyway?" Dustin asked.

"Nothing!" Steve yelled, gripping the steering wheel. "It's just - he's been spending all his time with her, and even though we live together - I, uh, I miss him. I miss him, okay?!"

"Well, shit, that makes sense," Dustin said, and then he grinned. "I knew you would like him!"

"I'm obsessed with him, and I definitely would call him my best friend," Steve said.

"Well, you know, he misses you, too," Dustin frowned. "He says you keep turning him down when he asks if you want to hang out with him and Rebecca."

"Have you seen them together?" Steve asked.

"They are pretty gross," Dustin said, scrunching up his nose. "But he said he's in love."

"He said that?" Steve asked, feeling his stomach drop.

"Yeah," Dustin said. "It's pretty obvious."

Steve had dropped Dustin off to find Eddie's van in front of Gareth's house. Eddie was leaning against the van, Rebecca pressed up against him as they laughed and kissed. They broke apart, and Eddie's eyes caught his. Eddie threw up his hand to wave, but Steve quickly backed out without looking at him and drove away. A few weeks later, Eddie announced that he was moving in with Rebecca.

"What?" Steve asked.

They were standing in the kitchen, looking for something to eat for dinner when Eddie dropped the bomb.

"Yeah, I figured it was time for me to move out. I mean, your parents probably are going to come back, despite what you think," Eddie said.

"They are definitely not coming back," he scoffed. "Do you not like living with me?"

"I don't think you like living with me," Eddie said.

"I love living with you!" Steve exclaimed.

"It doesn't seem like it," Eddie scowled. "Ever since I got with Rebecca, you've made it pretty clear that I've made myself too comfortable."

Eddie couldn't be this clueless, could he? Hell, Steve was pretty clueless for the longest time, so maybe he was.

"I miss hanging out with you, Eddie. . .without Rebecca!" Steve snapped, and he couldn't stop what happened next.

Steve cupped Eddie's face and smashed his lips to his, pouring everything he had into the kiss. He pulled away, looking at Eddie, who winced.

"Yeah, Rebecca says it's not cheating to get your guy friends off and hug them, but she still doesn't like it. She says it's gross," Eddie said. "I'm sorry, I should have told you."

Well, Rebecca had been such a nice girl, and for a moment, he had been guilty about being jealous and about kissing Eddie, knowing they were together. Now, he didn't feel guilty at all. Now, he wanted to rip out every single strand of hair from her head.

"Is that what you think we've been doing?" Steve asked in disbelief.

"We're not gay, Steve, so of course, that's what we've been doing," Eddie said.

"Well, we're not gay but we're definitely something," he said. "I mean, don't you feel it?"

"No," Eddie said, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm in love with Rebecca."

Looking at Eddie right now, it felt like Steve had been transported back to that Halloween night in Tina's bathroom with Nancy telling him he was bullshit and that she didn't love him. It was the same punch to the heart that he had felt back then. God, Steve was stupid. He never felt as stupid as he did right now.

"I think - I think I'm going to take a nap," Steve muttered.

"Steve - ," Eddie started to say.

Steve walked out the front door. He didn't say where he was taking a nap, did he? Steve didn't realize that he was crying until he was halfway to Robin's, and his whole body was shaking so hard that he stopped the car for a moment. He managed to contain himself enough to continue driving. When he pulled up and got out, he could hear the sound of Robin's voice, as well as Vickie's coming from the backyard. Shit. He should turn back.

"Oh! I think I heard the sound of Steve’s car pulling up! Get your ass back here, Harrington!" Robin yelled.

It's too late now. Steve followed the sound of her voice and found her relaxing on the back porch with Vickie sitting between her legs.

"Hey," Steve said quietly. "Sorry, I didn't realize - "

"Shit," Robin said, getting up. "What happened?"

"I'm in love with Eddie," Steve said, his voice breaking.

Steve spent the next few days at Robin with Robin and Vickie working around the clock to try to lift his spirits. God, he loved Vickie. Just because she was Robin's girlfriend didn't have any obligation to be there for him. She clearly wanted to. When Steve finally returned home, all of Eddie's stuff was gone, and his key was on the counter. It nearly broke him again. There wasn't even a note.

"What did you do?" Mike asked.

A few weeks later, Nancy was away at Emerson, so Mike was now depending on him for rides to school with Lucas and Dustin. At least, on days when their parents couldn't do it. Today was one of those days.

"Why would you assume that I did anything?" Steve asked.

"Because you're you and Eddie's Eddie," Mike said. "He seemed pretty upset, and he was the one who moved out."

"Well, why would Steve be the one to move out? It's Steve’s parents' house," Lucas said.

"Besides, Steve’s not like that," Dustin scowled. "He wouldn't hurt Eddie."

"At least not intentionally," Lucas said.

"Steve hated people like us in high school," Mike said.

"And what reputable source are you getting that from?" Steve scoffed.

"Just. . .from people," Mike said.

"Yeah, I didn't have the greatest friends. They were assholes but I always tried to stop them from doing stupid shit. No one ever talks about that because people only see what they want to see. They see a guy who has everything. . .and they assume the worst about people like me because it's easier for them to believe that I'm an asshole rather than just someone who's just a person who tries to do what's right but who always been slow to realize what's important so he fails. Just like everyone else. I've always tried to stop Tommy and Carol, but the one time that I didn't. . .no matter how many times I apologize for that. . .it doesn't matter. It'll always be held over my head. . .no matter how many times I sacrifice myself and my health, I am never going to be enough," Steve said.

"You also broke Jonathan's camera," Mike pointed out.

"Oh my God! I apologized for that! I gave him a new one. I reacted out of anger, and I should have let Nancy handle that, considering. . .I don't suppose Jonathan told you why I broke his camera," Steve said.

"No," Mike said.

"Of course, he didn't," Steve said. "Look, I like Jonathan now, I even respect him and call him a friend, but he's not exactly a saint. . .There doesn't have to be a bad guy in situations like this. . .sometimes, shit just happens. Maybe you should get a ride from Jonathan from now on if you hate me so much. . .For the record, I never hated people like you in high school. Never."

"I don't hate you," Mike said softly.

"Then I don't get it," Steve said.

"Me neither," Mike said. "I'm sorry."

"Steve," Dustin said. "You're crying."

"I know."

"I'm really sorry, Steve," Mike said. "You are more than enough. I swear."

Mike had apologized profusely after that, and Steve had forgiven him, but it still left him feeling off. He wondered how many people still hated him for what happened in high school. Is that why Eddie's friends wouldn't come over to the house? Steve wondered how long he was going to be blamed for the actions of other bullying jocks, of not having the ability to know every single person in the school. No, fuck that. He was done apologizing. If people couldn't get past their own views of him, that their problem, not his. Steve was lounging out by the pool when Wayne showed up and sat in the lawn chair next to him.

"Hey, kid," Wayne said.

"Eddie's not - ," Steve said.

"I know, I came to see how you were holding up," Wayne said.

"I'm good," Steve shrugged.

"Well, that's a load of bull," Wayne said. "Something's eating you up, and I already know what it is."

"Eddie," Steve mumbled.

"Yeah. . .I hate that Rebecca," Wayne said.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Well, she's clearly homophobic, not that anyone can see that. Not even Eddie," Wayne sighed.

"That's because - ," he started to say and he quickly cut himself off.

"Yeah, I know. . .I know my boy, I was hoping he'd come to terms with himself and come to me when he was ready," he sighed again, and then he scowled. "She can say whatever she wants to me, but when she makes remarks like that towards Eddie. . ."

"You just want to rip all the hairs out of her head?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Wayne replied with a snort. "I don't know what happened, but you were better for him than she was. Don't look at me, like that, I've seen the way he looked at you and the way you looked at him. There's something still there."

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said.

Wayne sighed and stood up, pulling Steve up to his feet.

"No matter what happens, you're my boy, too," Wayne said. "I can never think you enough for doing what you did for me and Eddie. You're a good kid. Don't give up on him. He'll come around."

Wayne pulled Steve into his arms and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," Steve whispered.

Wayne ended up being right. A few weeks later, Eddie ended up in his doorstep in the pouring rain. Steve had stepped aside to let him in, but Eddie had quickly turned around, muttering under his breath. Steve chased after him, the rain soaking him immediately. He grabbed Eddie's arm and turned him around.

"I want to come back," Eddie said.

"What about Rebecca?" Steve yelled over the thunder, and the pouring rain.

"I broke up with her," Eddie said.

"Why?" Steve asked.

"She's not you," Eddie said.

"What are you saying?" Steve asked.

"I'm saying that I'm in love with you!" Eddie said.

Steve smiled, despite the fact that the rain was ruining his hair and that there was a definite chance that they could get sick tomorrow. There was a dreaded weight being lifted off his shoulders now.

"I'm in love with you, too," Steve said, moving towards Eddie. "Wait. What are you doing? Stay still."

"Nope! No way! There's no way I'm going to be a fucking cliche!" Eddie yelled as he ducked away from Steve’s arm.

It took him a minute, but Steve laughed when he realized where Eddie was coming from.

"Come on, Eddie! Give me a kiss!" Steve yelled.

"Nope!"

Eddie dodged Steve’s arms again, bobbing and weaving in Steve’s front yard. Steve ran after him, trying to stop him from getting to the front door.

"Eddie!" He giggled.

"I am NOT kissing you in the rain! That's too much!" Eddie shrieked.

"Oh, come on, you already told me you loved me in the rain. You're halfway there!" Steve said.

Eddie slipped in the mud but managed to get caught in Steve's arms. Steve squeezed him and smiled down at him.

"Ugh. . .don't you fucking say it, Harrington," Eddie said.

"Looks like you fell for me," Steve grinned. "I'm going to kiss you now."

"Don't you dare!"

Eddie didn't stop him when Steve leaned down and kissed him. In fact, he returned the kiss with a furious passion. Steve broke away, laughing.

"You're a fucking cliche, Eddie Munson," Steve said.

"Gah!"

The next day, Steve was right. They both got sick, but they both felt like it had been worth it. Wayne, Robin, and Vickie immediately came over to nurse them back to health. Plus, Steve was pretty sure they wanted to hear the story in person and get Eddie's stuff back from Rebecca. The three of them had laughed so hard when Steve told them how Eddie ran from him in the rain. Robin plopped down on the edge of Steve’s bed, Eddie lying next to him, as Wayne and Vickie went downstairs to make them some soup.

"Yeah, so, Rebecca is definitely homophobic," Eddie revealed.

"I fucking knew there was something about Rebecca that I just didn't like and it wasn't just because the slutty little tart was trying to steal my best friend's man," Robin said.

"You hear that, Stevie? I'm your man," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"Yeah, baby, you are," Steve said before sneezing so hard that his head hit Eddie's.

"Ow!"

Wayne and Vickie came back with two trays of soup. They laid them down in front of them, Wayne tucking in both boys and brushing their hair back.

"You boys eat your soup and don't worry about a thing. We're going to get Eddie's stuff," Wayne said.

It didn't seem like they were gone very long, but it could have been because Eddie and Steve had nodded off as soon as they finished the soup. They woke up to the three of them moving Eddie's things into Eddie's bedroom. Robin was carrying a box, bloody tissues hanging from her nose.

"What the hell happened?" Steve asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, Rebecca wasn't too happy about us trying to take your things, so she put her hands on Vickie and called her the 'd' word," Robin said. "I had no choice, really. I had to punch her."

"It was so sexy," Vickie said.

"I brought you back a trophy," Robin said and dropped strands of strawberry blonde hair onto the bed. "Don't worry, I left behind most of it."

"Damn," Eddie grinned. "Go, Buckley. Thanks for doing all of this."

"Don't worry about it, kid. You boys just focus on getting better. No more kissing in the rain," Wayne said.

"I told you nothing good comes from kissing in the rain," Eddie said to Steve.

Wayne rolled his eyes and gathered up the soup trays, taking them out of the room.

"I'm glad you guys figured out your shit," Robin said as she put away Eddie's things. "Although, for the longest time, I didn't know there was shit to figure out."

"I'm sorry that we were so clueless," Steve said with a grin.

"Ah, you're forgiven. Easily," Robin smiled.

"Still not gay," Eddie said.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "We've admitted that we're in love with each other. How are you still in denial?!"

"Sorry, sweetheart," Eddie cackled. "I thought I was being funny. We're a little gay."

"Do you guys not know what I am?" Vickie asked, squinting her eyes at them.

"Uh, a redhead?" Eddie asked, and Robin snorted. "Unless. . .you're not?"

"Babe, did I not tell them? I could have sworn that I did," Vickie said as she helped put Eddie's clothes in Steve's drawers.

"I don't think you did," Robin said.

"Well, I'm bisexual. I like men and women. . .OH, CRACKERS!" Vickie yelled as she accidentally closed her thumb in the drawer.

"Crackers? What's a cracker?" Steve whispered to Eddie.

"Maybe it's someone who's both a man and woman?" Eddie asked in confusion.

"Maybe it's someone who's got no gender at all," Steve said, snapping his fingers.

"But why would they be called crackers?" Eddie asked.

"Because crackers have no gender," Steve said.

"Makes sense," Eddie said.

"Does it?" Robin asked. "What's wrong with you?"

"Crackers also have salt, and tears have salt in them," Steve said.

Robin frowned and pressed her hands to their foreheads.

"Wayne! Their temperatures have spiked!" Robin yelled.

"I found the medicine!" Wayne yelled!

"We'll talk about it again when you guys are feeling better," Vickie giggled.

The next day, once their fever had broken, they had talked about it at great length. . .about what it all meant for them. Steve was curled up on Eddie's chest, running his hands gently over his scars.

"I bet Jeff never got this far," Steve said.

"No, not even close. That was just lip hugging. . .oh my god, I can't believe how dumb I was," Eddie laughed.

He sighed as his boyfriend pressed kisses into his hair. Steve giggled. Boyfriend.

"Lip hugging. . .it's cute," Steve said.

"So, why did Dustin tell me that I need to kill of Mike's character?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, Mike was just being an asshole teenager, and he was just being protective of you," Steve said.

"Dustin said he made you cry," Eddie said.

"Oh, I mean, yeah," he said. "But it's fine, you don't have to kill his character."

"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't at least try?" Eddie asked. "God, I'm so fucking lucky."

It was the first time hearing it come from Eddie's mouth. He climbed up and straddled Eddie's wasn't, kissing him deeply. It felt so much more real now that they were no longer in denial. The walls they had put up were falling down around them as they fell into deep acceptance, wrapping up in each other's warm embrace.

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