#this is over 4k so i'm stupid happy

[yuujispinkhair]

You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.

-> This is Part 2 of this drabble

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.

This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.

Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby

It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.

Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.

You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,

"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"

And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.

Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,

"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"

You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.

He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.

He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.

He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.

You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.

It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.

Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.

If only things were different.

It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.

You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.

You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.

Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?

The thought makes your heart throb painfully.

Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.

You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.

Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.

Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,

"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."

You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.

You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,

"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."

There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.

"No problem, princess."

You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.

You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.

You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.

I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.

But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.

A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.

Maybe you should leave.

What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?

What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.

He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.

Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.

Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.

Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.

Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.

For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.

But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,

"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"

You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.

You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.

Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.

You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.

You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.

He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.

You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.

He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.

And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.

His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.

When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,

"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."

You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.

"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."

He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.

You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.

You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.

You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.

Until it lands on you.

It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.

He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,

"Need one of my shirts again?"

You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.

He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.

And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.

His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.

He jokingly asks you,

"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"

And you chuckle and tell him,

"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."

You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.

He tells you to keep his shirt this time.

"So you have something to sleep in."

And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:

"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"

He scrunches his nose at that,

"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"

"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."

The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.

Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.

When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,

"You make me feel less alone, too."

Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.

No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.

It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.

You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.

You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.

Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.

He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.

You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.

"I like you."

Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.

Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.

You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.

The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,

"I like you so fucking much."

Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:

"I like you too."

Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.

He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,

"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."

"Sukuna..."

Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,

"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."

You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.

You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.

It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.

You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.

You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 

You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,

"Mine."

His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,

"All yours."

Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:

"Just like I am all yours."

I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤

[xinganhao]

🌱 wonwoo x producer!reader.

the five times wonwoo swears he's over you (and the one time that he decides he isn't) ★ see also: main post, drabble

♫ maybe i'm just not better than this, i haven't tried / 'cause maybe you'll finally choose me after you've had more time.

🌱 the five times.

when he sees you for the first time in over a year.

he believes it's the nice thing to do, treating you out to dinner. he froze you out, after all, because he was stupid and he didn't know how to handle his crush on you. he likes to think that the past fourteen months have made him better. wiser. so, that night, he makes it up to you. he also makes up a dozen different excuses. do his eyes linger on you a little too long as you happily drink your yogurt drink? he's just making sure you like what he chose for you. does he walk a little closer when he notices you're shivering from the evening cold? he's just concerned you might get sick. he doesn't like you anymore. he's better now, wiser now. he has to be.

when your second studio choom video comes out.

it's not the same as the first time, where he'd smiled to himself while watching you perform your latest comeback in STUDIO CHOOM's crisp, 4k quality. back then, that's how he had known he was done for. this time, he watches it purely out of curiosity. to add to the millions of views that the video is already raking up. he keeps a straight face the whole time. just watches with a perfectly neutral expression. he's just a guy supporting a friend, isn't he? when he gets through the entire video without smiling, he counts that as a win. if his heart— the bloody traitor— had stuttered at your ending fairy, well. that's an entirely different story.

on a random tuesday, just because.

he's never really seen the appeal in games like stardew valley; they were always a little too slow for his taste. but you'd absolutely begged, and so he begrudgingly bought the game for ₩20,600 just to shut you up. he still doesn't care much for it, to be quite honest. there's a lot of slow, lazy days where he just dicks around in-game. he bears with it anyway since you're always so happy when you beat him at fishing, or when you get to steal away the bachelorette he was going after. your voice is a low buzz in his ear as the two of you play until the sun has risen, until he's cussing you out for keeping him up so late when he has a schedule to go to. you let him complain all he wants because he'll still back online for co-op later that night.

when you're back in the same recording studio as him.

this one is the hardest, because this is where he fell for you in the first place. you, with your head bent as you fiddle with jihoon's digital audio workstation. you, with your usually friendly demeanor shuttered behind something so cool and collected. the pencil tucked behind your ear. the way you worry your lower lip as the boys croon. he wants to scream, wants to test just how soundproof this damn studio is. instead, he sings his lines. he makes adjustments as necessary. he watches you do your thing, even jokes to you here and there. it's all he can do to keep his mind away from what it wants so badly to stray back to. in the end, he doesn't scream. but when you smile at him and tease him that he did a good job— he wishes he had.

when he drives you home after you've had one too many to drink.

you're half-asleep in his passenger seat, all soft edges and incoherent mumbles. he tries to be cross with you, tries to tell you off for not knowing your limits and ending up like this. there's an unmistakable softness in his gaze, though, as he makes sure the seatbelt isn't too tight around your frame. he avoids all the potholes and goes extra careful over the speed bumps. by the time he makes it to your dorm, you're already passed out with your cheek pressed against the window. he decides to let you sleep for only thirty seconds more. as he mentally counts down— thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight— he tries to convince himself that it won't sting when he gets to one. (it still does.)

🌸 the one time.

on another random tuesday.

in the end, it's not an evening of stardew valley that gets him. it's not one of your fancams, not your warm presence in his shotgun. no, it's something much more stupid. something much more small. it's the way he looks for his phone when it pings. he doesn't even know if it's you who's texting him. but it could be, and that's enough to have him fishing through his bag hastily. he catches himself one afternoon, notices the way he's just a touch too excited to check the newest notification. he's not any wiser or better, it seems. he doesn't know if he can be. he's still the same jeon wonwoo with a hopeless crush on you.

[honnelander]

go fish! part 3

here we are everyone! we made it guys! the much anticipated part 3 of the go fish! mutual pining series!! i cannot express enough how much this series means to me and that i am constantly blown away with how much you all love it too. it amazes me every day. i hope this lives up to the hype and that you all love it. and don't worry, there will be a part 4! disclaimer: i tried tagging everyone that had asked but a few users don't come up when i try tagging them, so i'm sorry :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 4k

pairing: opla!sanji x jealous!reader

summary: reader sees Sanji get cozy at the bar with someone else and you get jealous as hell. Zoro sees the whole thing.

prequel part 1 part 2 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @abracarabbit @commanderfreethatdust @lordbugs @sweet-little-nothings @geisterfvhrer @kenkenmaaa @dazaisfavgf @fan-goddess @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @sapphireonline @dory-98 @redskull199987 @teenyforestfairy @acupnoodle

It really shouldn’t bother you...but it did. You couldn’t help yourself. Sanji wasn’t even yours, he never would be, and yet...you couldn’t help the wave of jealousy and annoyance that crashed over you every time he would be a little too friendly with other women. (At least, too friendly by your standards and, of course, you thought your standards were pretty reasonable.) 

But Sanji wasn’t even yours (he never would be). You weren’t his wife or his girlfriend, hell, you were only just crewmates to each other, so there really should be no reason why you felt as angry and jealous as you did. 

That still didn’t stop you, however. In fact, it just enraged you even more and you didn’t know why. 

It was just a stupid crush you had on him, right? So why did it bother you so much when he would cast that perfect smile of his towards someone else? When he would wink at another woman and say some suave innuendo that he would never say to you? Or even touch their shoulders or give a hug to someone else when he’s never even touched or grazed your arm or shoulder by accident before? 

“If you stare any harder at that glass, it’s going to shatter from all the daggers you’re giving it.” 

You blinked, looking up from the drink in your hand and to the left, only to see an ever calm and nonchalant Zoro take a swing of his beer, keeping his gaze towards the bustling nightclub/bar you all were currently visiting.  

It’d been a couple of weeks of straight sailing on the open ocean and everyone on board was going a little stir crazy, even the ever-happy-go-lucky Luffy. So, when the Going Merry’s captain had smelled a whiff of food in the air midafternoon up on the masthead that wasn’t Sanji’s doing, everyone had collectively decided to follow Luffy’s nose and see what lied ahead.  

After a half hour of sailing, you all had stumbled across another ship-like restaurant that, admittedly, even looked better than the Baratie. So, it was an easy decision for the crew to decide to dock there for a couple of hours and give Sanji the night off from making dinner, much to the chef’s annoyance.  

But it had all turned out to be the right decision in the end, apparently, since Sanji had made a point to visit the kitchen and give his compliments to the chef. 

Now, all of the straw hats had made it to the outdoor bar area to ‘drink the night away’, as Usopp had so jovially put it, and you’ve been here ever since. 

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned, looking back at the nearly full drink you had in your hand. “Very funny Zoro. You know, you should quit piracy and be a standup comedian.” 

Your green-haired crewmate turned his face to you with an unamused expression. “You’ve been nursing that drink all night.” He arched an eyebrow. “You ok?” 

At that question, your eyes immediately went to Sanji, who had been at the bar for a majority of the evening, chatting with the bartender but, of course, as if on cue, another gorgeous girl slinked right up to him, batting her eyelashes and ever so casually rested her hand on his bicep, sliding it all the way down to his forearm as she giggled at something the chef said. 

Sanji, on the other hand, flashed the new woman, the tenth this evening at least, you thought sourly, one of his dazzling white smiles, leaning forward slightly as if he was telling her some sort of inside joke, causing her to laugh louder and place her other hand on top of his. Sanji’s smile only grew wider. 

You couldn’t help the stab of pain your heart felt at the sight. 

“Never better,” you replied to Zoro bitterly as you quickly downed your drink. 

His gaze didn’t budge. “You don’t look fine.” 

“Yeah, thanks for pointing that out Captain Obvious,” you quipped sarcastically under your breath, stealing another glance at the object of your affections. He was still chatting with that other woman, and you couldn’t help letting out a small breath as you felt the familiar sting of jealously deep within your chest.  

God, it hurt. It hurt so goddamn badly, and you didn’t know why. 

Zoro followed your line of sight and when he saw the Going Merry’s cook at the end of it, he hummed to himself, hiding his sly smirk behind his beer as he looked back at you. “Sounds like you need another drink then.” 

“I guess so,” you sighed, sitting up and leaning over to grab the bottle of liquor that sat in the middle of your small table to refill your glass when Zoro stopped you. 

“Nuh-uh,” the green-haired swordsman said as he put the heel of his boot on the table to block off your reaching hand. “If you want a refill, then you have to go to the bar,” he explained, nodding his head towards the bar, and, coincidently, Sanji. “This bottle is mine.” 

“What?? Aw come on Zoro,” you whined. “I don’t want to go over there.” 

“Oh? Any particular reason why not?” 

It must’ve been the liquor, because you could’ve sworn you heard a knowing tone laced in his voice but when you looked at your friend, he looked as nonchalant as ever. Maybe you were imagining things. 

“No,” you lied, your cheeks heating up slightly.  

“Good,” Zoro said, taking a long swing of his beer, finishing it up and slamming the empty bottle on the glass tabletop lightly. “Then when you’re up there, get me another beer.” You opened your mouth to protest again but Zoro spoke before you could. “Since, you said there’s no problem.” 

Shit. You were backed into a corner. And the only way out was to go up to the bar and be face-to-face with Sanji. 

You looked back towards the crowded bar and felt another wave of emotion come over you. But these feelings were hard to discern. The pair was still talking at the bar, the woman still being a little too touchy towards him for your taste. You sighed slightly. Maybe when you got over there, he would just ignore you, since he was so engrossed in conversation it seemed. Part of you didn’t know if you wanted that wish to come true or not. 

“Alright- fuck it, whatever,” you grumbled as you snatched your empty glass and made your way to the bar, leaving a smug Zoro alone. 

As you made your way across the small dance floor and towards the bar, you felt your heart fill with dread with every step you took. You prayed to whatever God was out there that Sanji didn’t notice you but, of course, when you neared the bar, you noticed that the only open spot was behind him. 

How fucking perfect. 

“One beer and a refill please,” you quickly ordered, handing over your empty glass to the bartender.  

 “Y/n?” 

Your heart clenched at hearing Sanji’s voice. Why did you think, for even a moment, that Sanji would ever ignore you? The man seemed to always notice you no matter what, even when no one else did, so why would he ignore you now? 

But you couldn’t look at him. “Oh, hey,” you quickly greeted. 

Sanji, however, didn’t miss a beat. “I didn’t think you were a big drinker,” he commented curiously, turning his body fully to face you, leaning against the bar, and unintentionally removing the woman’s grip on his arm.  

“I’m not,” you answered, casting a quick glance up at him. 

The blonde chef blinked in confusion, his brows pulled together slightly, but before he could question you further, his ‘date’ for the evening quickly made her presence known. 

“Sanji?” the woman called out sweetly, stepping to the cook’s right, placing her hand on his right bicep and the other on his shoulder as she looked up at him with a coy smile. When she looked down at you, however, you could see the look in her eye that was anything but sweet. “Who is this? I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” she commented, tilting her head in fake misunderstanding.  

Immediately, both you and Sanji straightened up, shaking your heads quickly. 

“No, no, she’s not my girlfriend-” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you both denied simultaneously. 

You quickly looked away from them, hoping to hide the rush of embarrassment that crashed over you and, to be honest, the sting of his quick rejection. It was just another reminder, you thought bitterly, that even though Sanji always acted like a complete gentleman towards you, you weren’t his girlfriend. He was just being nice, like always, and he would never like you how you liked him. 

You looked down at your hands, quiet for a moment as you knocked a knuckle against the bar top. “No,” you said after a beat. “We’re not dating.” 

The woman blinked, clearly unfazed by your admission, like she expected nothing less. She still had a fake look of curiosity on her pretty face. “Oh, right! Of course not,” she laughed slightly, in a way that made you feel small. “You must be one of the straw-caps then, right?” 

“It’s straw-hats, actually,” you bit back, straightening up and turning to face this jerk of a woman, chin up high, sending her what you hoped was one of your meanest stares. This girl could be mean to you all day if she wanted to, you didn’t care, but you’d rather drop dead than to ever let her bad mouth Luffy and the wonderful pirate crew he put together. “And yes, I am one of them. I’m a pirate,” you stated proudly.  

Sanji must’ve been drunk or stupid, because he didn’t seem to pick up on this girl’s bad energy. “Don’t you remember, darling,” he started, sending the girl a small smile, “I was telling you about my crewmates?” 

“OH right!” She hit her head in an exaggerated manner. “I remember now, pookie. You said there were two girls on your crew, an orange-haired map girl and another one...” she trailed off, tapping her pointer finger on her chin like she was deep in thought. “Oh!” she exclaimed brightly and looked down at you, her smile sweet as candy but her words as sharp as a razor. “You must be the potato girl!” 

Whatever air of pseudo-confidence you had was immediately snuffed, her words quickly cutting you down to size. “The- the what?” 

“Yeah, don’t you like potatoes or something?” she laughed, acting like it was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard.  

And to her credit? It definitely sounded stupid if you didn’t know the context behind the story. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to fight the urge to either cry or deck this girl in the jaw over her making fun of such a special moment between you and Sanji. 

You opened your mouth, ready to shut her shit down when she beat you to it. The next words out of her mouth immediately sucked the air out of your lungs. 

“Or is just because you look like a potato?” she asked, laughing her about ass off as she lightly hit Sanji in the chest, keeping her hand there, expecting him to laugh along with her but Sanji just stiffened at her side. 

You, however, were too busy keeping your breathing under control and trying your hardest not to cry to notice Sanji’s reaction, or lack of. You could feel red hot shame bloom across your chest, the heat crawling up your neck and flushing your face as you looked down at the floor. 

Normally, another girl calling you ugly would sting, sure, but not cause you to literally break down in tears on the spot. So why now? Deep down, though, you knew exactly why. It was because of Sanji. She had literally called you ugly in front of Sanji, the person you had a major forbidden crush on, and what if Sanji just laughed along and agreed with her? You didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. If he did, you would have to quit the straw hats because there was no way you could ever look at him again. 

Not wanting to wait and see what his reaction would be, you started shaking your head, ready to mutter up some lame excuse to get the hell out of there when you felt an arm snake around your waist and a warm body press against your side, pulling you against them. 

“Now, Madam, I don’t think those are the right words to describe the most beautiful woman in all of the four seas now, is it?” a deep, familiar accented voice asked from above you. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as you whipped your head up towards the voice with wide eyes, only to see the ever-beautiful Sanji look down at you with a small, soft smile, his eyes full of wonder and another emotion you couldn’t decipher, as you felt his thumb rub small, comforting circles on your right hip.  

His look and touch sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t tell if he was acting or not. Your heart hammered in your ribcage as you searched his eyes for a lie, but all you could find was the truth, strong and unwavering, staring right back at you. 

“I said: is it?” Sanji repeated himself, tearing his eyes away from you, looking straight on at this awful woman with his eyebrows raised slightly, like he was daring her to say something else. 

Clearly not expecting Sanji to rebuke her as blatantly as he did, the woman started sputtering. “Well, I- I didn’t mean it like that, Sanji-bear, really-” 

The blonde man raised his left hand in the air, immediately silencing her. “Yeah, I gotta be honest- I highly doubt that, sweetheart.” 

At his condescending tone, you saw the woman bristle and nearly foam at the mouth, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. She huffed, looking back and forth between you both for a moment before scoffing and shaking her head in disbelief, saying, “I knew it. I fucking knew it.” She looked Sanji dead in the eyes, glancing at you, her eyes filled with hatred, before taking a step closer to Sanji, filling in the gap between them, as she whispered something into his left ear before stalking off and leaving the bar without another glance. 

You quickly looked up at Sanji as she was whispering into his ear, confusion apparent in all of your features. Whatever she said to him, you couldn’t hear since they were both taller than you and the woman wore the highest heels you’ve ever seen, but whatever words she had spoken had left the chef completely stunned because you felt his body become rigid, the comforting circles his thumb was rubbing on your hip stopped, and you saw the muscles on his face freeze as he kept his stare straight ahead.  

“Sanji?” you call hesitantly, instantly forgetting your own muddled emotions as you looked up to your heart’s desire. “Are you ok?” 

At the sound of your voice, you felt him relax. He let out a little laugh (it sounded fake to you), as he looked down at you with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of, of course. I am.” But as quickly as he looked at you, his attention was stolen by the bartender placing your order on the bar in front of you. “Thanks, man,” he called out, removing his arm from around you and stepping away to grab your drink order.  

Instantly, you missed the warmth he provided. You felt cold all of a sudden.  

You shook your head once, clearing your head of those thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to analyze things like that. “Sanji-” 

“How are you feeling?” he asked with his back facing you, beating you to the punch. When he turned to face you, drinks in hand, any trace of inner turmoil was gone. His eyes, instead, showed concern for you. “You know you’re beautiful, right?” he asked softly, his eyes scanning your face before looking back into your eyes. 

The look in his eyes nearly took your breath away. For a moment, you had completely forgotten what he was referring to. “Uh, w-what?” 

He must’ve mistaken your confusion for disbelief because his next action nearly stopped your heart. “Oh, my love,” he started softly, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He placed the drinks on the bar, freeing up his hands, and placed them on either side of your head, along your jawline, as his thumb rubbed your cheek soothingly, his fingers gently entangled in your hair. Sanji gently tilted your head upwards, so your eyes connected with his, and the look on his face was filled with such tenderness and radiated a warmth that touched your soul. His gorgeous, tanned face filled your entire field of view, and you could feel his minty breath fan your face.  

When the hell did he get so close? 

You felt your cheeks heating up at the proximity, your eyes tried to look at anything but his crystal-clear blue ones. Your brain was sure to short circuit if you didn’t get ahold of yourself. You were going to do something incredibly stupid if you didn’t get space immediately. “San-” 

“Y/n,” he said, his tone soft yet commanding. “Look at me, love.” 

Your heart rate skyrocketed and you felt your breathing quicken. God, you could feel yourself getting a panic attack and you didn’t even understand why. There was nothing more you’d rather do more than look at Sanji but you didn’t know if you had the strength to do it.  

You placed your hands on top of his wrists, fully intending to peel him off and push him away, mumbling, “Sanji, I can’t-” 

“Please.” 

In an instant, you looked into his eyes and what you saw nearly made your heart stop. His gaze was so intense, so piercing, his blue eyes seemed like they were staring directly into your heart and soul. Could he feel your rapid pulse through his fingertips? 

When you locked eyes with him, you saw his soft smile grow. “You, y/n, are the most gorgeous woman to ever sail the four seas. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, I promise you that.”  

With each word out of Sanji’s mouth, you could feel your heart breaking and it was dawning on you as to why. 

But Sanji continued, his eyes sparkling. “And I'll be damned if I’d ever let that horrible woman make you feel otherwise. Alright, Missus?” 

At the nickname, you let out a shaky breath and quickly blinked back tears. It was right then you knew, you knew it from the depth of your soul, just like you knew for certain that the sky was blue and the earth was round: you loved Sanji. You didn’t just have a crush on him anymore, but you were completely head over heels in love with him. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, which might’ve been your heart, because you realized that even though you loved him, you could never have him. He was your crewmate, your friend, another one of the straw hats. He was someone that you promised yourself you would never cross “the line” for. Who you vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t risk anything for feelings-wise because you didn’t want the rest of the crew to suffer if you both didn’t work out. 

But despite all of that, it didn’t make the truth any easier to swallow because now you were stuck. You were stuck with your stupid feelings and all it did was want to make you cry. You should’ve been happy right now at this sudden realization but no, instead all you wanted to do was go hole up in your room and sob. 

And besides, Sanji would never return your feelings anyway. 

“Y/n?” Sanji repeated, a hint of worry laced in his tone the longer you kept staring at him unblinking. 

You quickly blinked, unable to stop a few tears from escaping your eyes, but managed to hold back the rest. You tried your best to fake a smile for him, but you could feel your lips quivering. “Sanji,” you breathed but quickly cleared your throat. “That, that was beautiful.” You looked at him in the eyes. “Thank you.” 

At your thanks, Sanji’s whole face lit up and he winked. “Ah, anything for the Missus.” 

The blonde cook didn’t make an effort to move, however. He kept his hands on your face and with each stroke of his thumb you felt tingles shoot down into your stomach (and to other inappropriate places), and felt goosebumps erupt across your skin.  

You had to get out of here. 

Carefully, you squeezed his wrists and slid your hands over his, gently prying them away from you, pulling them down and giving them one last quick squeeze in appreciation before dropping them. “Thank you, Sanji,” you repeated softly. You looked towards the bar, at the two forgotten drinks placed there, because you just couldn’t look at Sanji right now. “I, uh, should go bring these over to Zoro.” 

“Of- of course. Right. Mosshead is probably quite pissed off at us but, ah, who cares what he thinks.” Ever the gentleman, Sanji went to reach for them. “Here, let me help you-” 

“No!” you quickly intervened, grabbing them like it was a pot of gold. “No, no. I got it. Don’t worry about it. You should, uh, stay here and keep talking to the bartender. I think he was looking for you,” you lied and without waiting for his response, took the drinks off the bar, leaving a crestfallen Sanji standing there, watching you walk to Zoro and then, promptly, out of the nightclub altogether.  

As you walked over to your green-haired friend, your legs felt like rubber and that you would collapse at a moment’s notice from the sheer weight of your thoughts. You, however, were so far gone that you completely missed Zoro’s Chesire cat grin.  

“You and the waiter seemed pretty cozy over there, huh?” Zoro jabbed, his arms resting on top of the seat cushions and knees spread out like he had no care in the world. “I thought you guys were going to kiss or something for a minute there, but instead-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Zoro,” you practically growled at him as you put his beer and your glass on the glass tabletop with much more force than necessary.  

The swordsman lifted his hands slightly along with his eyebrows. “Whoa, hey now no need to-” 

Instead of taking your seat back and sitting back down, you started walking past him and towards the exit without waiting for his response. “I’m heading back to the ship.” 

As Zoro watched you leave, a clearly drunk Usopp slid in right next to him, gnawing on a toothpick, watching you as well. “Daaamn, Zoro,” the slingshot shooter drawled loudly, leaning against his crewmate and completely disregarding the other man’s personal space. “Did you see Sanji and y/n? I thought they were going to- pft, start making out or something!” Usopp exclaimed as he waved his hands in the air, mimicking an explosion and two people kissing. “Do you think they know they like each other?”  

Zoro hummed, watching your retreating form and then looking towards the dejected waiter, who looked like a kicked puppy. “I don’t know Usopp,” he replied, leaning forward to grab his beer and take a swing. “But if they don’t tell each other soon I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.” 

“Yeahhh,” Usopp agreed, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at the swordsman better. “You said it- oh! Is this drink taken?” he asked, not waiting for Zoro’s response before taking the beverage and sipping on its straw.  

Zoro shook his head with a small smile. Sometimes his friends were too predictable for their own good. He just hoped that you and Sanji would start being predictable soon so you two could finally be together and put everyone out of their misery.  

[theharddeck]

i was supposed to sweat you out (rooster x f!reader)

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: reader is totally not jealous that her FWB is being hit on at the hard deck.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: spitting, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please-- explicit PiV sex, a bit of dumbification, m!receiving oral sex

A/N: help i blacked out and wrote almost 4k of rooster smut who even am i listen, i also know it's not original, but i wanted to write frantic territorial sex and this is where it got us. also...don't think too hard about the parallels between this and can't unfeel that okay i'm too repressed to process tysm also yes title is from glitch by TAS

You weren’t jealous. 

Jealous was for people with feelings, and if you had feelings about fucking your team lead, then you were stupid, in addition to giving Uncle Sam everything he needed to court martial you. 

So, no, you weren’t jealous. 

But the tightness in your stomach as a girl sat next to Rooster on the piano was awfully uncomfortable. 

She wasn’t even out of line, that was the worst part. She looked nice, she looked like a decent human, and she was pretty, if you were into the girl next door kinda look. 

Which Rooster historically was. 

She was sitting at a perfectly respectful distance, her sundress was a perfectly respectful length, her face was open and curious and pure and it made you want to stomp over to the piano in the middle of the Hard Deck, and rub yourself all over Bradley’s hawaiian shirt until he remembered that as pretty as she was, he liked himself around you better.

You made yourself look away, tipping your wrist so the soda water and ice remaining in your glass rattled around.

He wasn’t yours. 

You knew he wasn’t, just like you knew jealousy was irrational, but it was hard because sometimes…sometimes he acted like it though. 

Like when you nearly passed out from cramps and he’d brought over a spare set of sheets while he washed yours, and then wedged himself around you in your tiny bed, so you could know you weren’t alone in the pain. Or when he left a lemon lavender cupcake in your locker, even though no one was supposed to know it was your birthday, because you hated the way people made a big fuss out of nothing. Or the way he looked up at you, awestruck and beautiful, every time you came on his fingers, sobbing his name. 

You set your glass down on the bar, louder than you intended, but suddenly everything seemed loud. You didn’t have to stay here, in fact, you needed to get out. Out of the Hard Deck, away from the bright lights and happy people being happy, and no one moping over their fuckbuddies who definitely didn’t have feelings for them–

When the back door opened, you breathed in deep, cool air rushing off the sea and over you and bringing a momentary reprieve. The door swung shut behind, and as it closed, the din of the bar muted, and you let that breath out slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You just needed a minute, a moment to calm the hell down, and forget about the distracting man at the piano whom you had no business being distracted by.

You heard the door creak open behind you and you tipped your head back to glare at the universe at large, because without turning around, you knew exactly who had come outside after you. 

“Hey,” Bradley’s voice was just gentle enough to make your heart clench, because it wasn’t his fault that he was so impossibly kind, it had you falling in love with him, “you okay? You ran out of there pretty quick.”

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding just as prickly as you felt, pushing down any sense of flattery that he’d been aware of your presence, and your leaving. 

“You sound fine,” Bradley said cheerily, coming to stand beside you. You wanted to laugh with him because you both knew you were being dramatic, but you also wanted to shove him like you were 5 on a playground, too full of big feelings to know how to handle them. 

“I said I’m fine, Bradley,” you bit out. “Go back inside, okay, I’m fine.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when you looked over at him, you knew it was a mistake. He was watching you carefully, his brown eyes focused and concerned, a divet in the middle of his forehead where his brows were squished together, making him simultaneously the cutest and hottest, and also the most annoying, for being so handsome while he was clearly worried. 

“Honey, we gotta talk about it–” he started, but the endearment broke something inside of you, the way he said it like he meant it, like this was real. 

“I’m not your honey, Bradley,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “We’re friends, right, that was the whole deal, so let’s not pretend like–”

Something flashed in Bradley’s eyes and a moment later his large hands cupped your face as he crashed into you, kissing your gasped breath out of you. 

It wasn’t your fault your knees nearly buckled. 

It wasn’t your fault that the hands you meant to push him away with instead curled into the material of that stupid technicolor shirt, pulling him closer to you. 

It wasn’t your fault that he tasted like heaven, like rum and coke and intoxicating, and months of habit had you chasing his taste with your tongue. 

You didn’t realize you were walking backwards until your back hit the outside wall of the Hard Deck, and still Bradley covered you. His neck was bent at a horrible angle to meet your lips, but he didn’t seem to mind, melding his body into yours, pressing into you with a familiar urgency. 

His tongue traced over your lips and you opened for him, a whimper escaping you when Bradley hummed with appreciation. His hands slipped from your face to behind your head, his knuckles protecting your head from the scrape of the brick wall, and he rocked into you before pulling back. 

You felt his breath against your lips and you opened your eyes slowly, needing a moment before you could focus on him. 

Christ, he was just so pretty. 

Hair unruly from your fingers, cheeks flushed from kissing you, chest rising unsteadily and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, like a tease. 

“Now,” he said, his voice gruffer than it’d been a minute ago, “are you done riding my dick for something I don’t even know I did wrong?”

It was an expression.

You knew that, of course it was an expression, but Bradley was pressing you into a wall with his demigod body, and he’d said it in that voice, the one you knew how it felt against your skin, so all you could manage was, “Can I?”

For a moment, Bradley looked confused, bless him. 

Then he huffed out a disbelieving breath, like you were too good to be true, lifting a hand from behind your head to rake it through his hair, before looking back at you. 

“You mean that, don’t you?” he asked, his voice somehow even lower. “Out here in the open, you’d let me fuck you?”

You shivered at his words, nodding stupidly, and were rewarded by another kiss. This one was just as unexpected as the first, but Bradley’s lips gentle against yours as he coaxed an answering softness out of you. 

It was too sweet.

Too tempting, too delicious, to let yourself have tenderness that you knew wasn’t real, and you needed to get a hold of yourself, fast. 

Bradley was still being so damn gentle, so it was easy to push his hands away from you, sink to your knees on the sand-covered asphalt outside of the bar. Bradley fell forward, catching himself on the arm braced on the wall, his forehead resting in the crook of his elbow. 

“Honey, you don’t have to–” he started, but his hips bucked forward when your fingers started undoing his belt. 

“I want to,” you told him, meaning it too much to care how breathless your voice sounded. 

Your hand slipped into his pants, palming his length over his briefs and you both groaned softly. He wasn’t fully hard, not yet, but that was better anyways, let you work him up. He was warm, heavy even at half mast, and it took everything in you not to purr when you pulled him out. You looked up at him, tilting your head. 

“Help me out?” you asked coyly, sticking your tongue out, and Bradley’s hips jutted forward again when he realized what you were asking. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice a heady mix of arousal and wonder. The hand that wasn’t keeping him from hitting the wall traced down your cheek, ending at your jaw and tipping your chin up. 

You were already salivating and when Bradley spit, you moaned, your thighs clenched together as you drooled your combined saliva onto his cock. Bradley grunted, then whispered something to himself as you smoothed your hand over him, the glide made easier by your spit. Already, you could feel him stiffening, and you readjusted to take him in your mouth. 

It was never a gentle fit. 

Bradley was the kind of thick that he always stretched out your jaw, but, God, did you relish it. As your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, Bradley moaned, the most beautiful sound. You loved how vocal he was, loved how he sounded, how he felt. You tightened your lips, tongue swirling over the tip of him, teasing until you tasted a hint of salt in your mouth, and then it was your turn to moan.  

You tipped your head back, encouraging him to slide him deeper into your mouth, your fist twisting around the portion of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Shit, honey, that mouth…” Bradley gritted, his voice muffled in his arm. The hand that had tipped up your chin went around to your cheek, and his hips shifted again when he could feel you hollowing your cheeks out. 

The motion pushed him deeper towards your throat and you gagged, but kept him in your mouth, soothed by the shaky cadence of Bradley’s breath over you. 

“So damn good for me, aren’t you, honey?” he breathed. “So warm and tight; feels so good…”

Your thighs clenched again, and you felt yourself growing wet as his praise washed over you. You held your breath, determined to take more of him, and Bradley grunted as you pulled on his cock with your hand, feeding him into your mouth. 

“Need more, honey?” he asked, somehow still cocky, though you could hear the tremor of desire in his voice. “God, you love being stretched on my dick, don’t you?”

You moaned instead of nodding, wishing it wasn’t true but also wishing he’d push deeper. Your hands flexed on his thighs, still covered in his jeans, but so thick and warm, even through the denim. Fuck, the size of him was overwhelming–his heavy cock in your mouth, those muscled thighs under your fingers…you held your breath and you let go of the base of him. 

Bradley let out a choked gasp as you took him deeper, your nose brushing his pubic hair as he slid down your throat. You were gonna lose your voice and be so damn sore, but it was worth it for the groan that ripped out of Bradley. 

“Fuck fuck fuck–” he gritted, all cockiness gone as he let go of your cheek, bracing himself against the wall. You knew it was taking everything to not rut into you, and you half appreciated it because you weren’t sure you could take it, but you almost wanted him without restraint, just using you, lost in you. 

You hummed around him, and Bradley made a sound you’d never heard before, like a whine and gasp, and then he was pushing himself off the wall, pulling out of you, and wrapping his hands under your arms, pulling you to your feet. 

“Fuck, honey, you wreck me,” he rasped, kissing you almost angrily. You whimpered as you opened for him, and you felt his tongue sweeping through you, searching for his taste in your mouth. 

You felt so empty, too much air and too little of his cock, and you reached for him between you. You felt him jolt when your hand closed around him, stroking over him, and then Bradley was reaching between both of you, shoving his hand into your underwear. 

“How wet am I going to find you, honey? Bet you’re just drenched aren’t you, just that hungry for my cock–fuck.”

Bradley broke off when his fingers swept into your panties, and you gasped at the glorious contact. 

His fingers were so good, thick and long and calloused just right, and he was absolutely correct: you were all but dripping for him. Bradley pulled his fingers through your folds, pulling your arousal up to your clit and petting gentle circles around it. Your head fell back against the wall at his ministrations, perfect to the point of painful, almost forgetting you held his cock in your hand. 

You tightened your grip around him, and Bradley grunted before he matched your pace with his fingers. You felt your knees shaking, and Bradley wound another hand around your ass, before lifting to brace you against the wall. With your feet off the ground, your balance was entirely dependent upon him, and it brought new pressure to the pattern his fingers were tracing over you. 

His touch was maddening. 

Light and knowing, direct and perfect, enough to drive you wild with pleasure but not to get you there, and he knew it. 

“Bradley,” you whispered against his mouth, begged, and the bastard chuckled, but he pulled his hand out of your panties, just long enough to push them to the side, before pulling his lips away from you. 

“Shit, honey, I don’t have a–”

“In me, Rooster,” you snapped, surprised and yet absolutely not surprised by the fact that your eyes felt full. You were desperate for him, it was embarrassing, but you needed him so damn bad, for reasons you didn’t dare say, and if he waited for something else, you didn’t think you could bear it. “Please, fucking please, I need you–” 

“Shh honey, you’re okay,” Bradley soothed, one of his hands brushing your hair away from your face, a gentle thumb wiping at your eyes. His gentleness made you more desperate, your hips canting towards him. “Are you sure?”

“So sure, please,” you whimpered, your face feeling hot, your thighs shaking. God you were coming undone, like you were just a giant nerve ending that was just need, desperate, hunger, desire. 

“Course, honey,” Bradley soothed, his lips brushing against your cheeks, kissing your tears away, his tongue caressing your skin. “I’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.” 

You didn’t think you were, but then his thick cock was at your entrance and you could’ve sobbed in relief. He was hot, you could feel him leaking and you needed him to be so deep inside you. You tried to work your hips down on him, but Bradley’s grip on you was stern, and you couldn’t coax him any faster.

As it was, it still felt like too much. 

The stretch of him, the closeness, the way he knew just how to soothe you and fuck you and none of it was real and even when he slowly worked you down onto his cock, you were still shaking. 

“Please, please,” you whined, trying to move, and crying out in frustration when Bradley didn’t succumb. “Shit, Bradley, please, fuck me like you mean it.”

He growled, fucking growled, the sexiest sound out of a litany of choices, and Bradley’s hips jerked back before he drove into you. Your head hit the brick wall, he was so perfect and he hit you just right, so good, and almost perfect enough to drown out the thoughts in your head. 

“Like I mean it, huh,” Bradley grunted, pulling out, the drag feeling like suction with how wet you were, how tightly you were clenching around him. “Like I mean it when I say you’re killing me, is that what you mean? Like I’m going insane every second this pretty pussy isn’t tight around me, like I can’t think straight if I don’t have the taste of you on my tongue, or know the taste of me isn’t on yours?”

He punctuated each question with a thrust, fucking the answers out of your head, and all you could think was yes and more and please. 

“Oh you like that, don’t you, baby?” Bradley said, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he lifted you higher up the wall. Your back scraped against the bricks but you didn’t care, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the perfect drag of his cock inside you, so close to you. “I think you like that, I think you like knowing how much you own me, how in my head you are, how even when it’s me filling you. You’re fucking everywhere, all around me, all the time.”

His thrusts pushed you higher, bits of sand and brick grating at your skin and it grounded you, centered you so you didn’t come undone at the words coming out of him. 

You were still thinking too much. 

He was so deep, so good, but you still…you reached for him blindly, one of your hands finding one of his, bringing it to your throat. 

“Fuck, honey,” Bradley groaned, his fingers tightening slightly and you traced your hand down the back of his hands, moaning when you felt the veins on the back of his hand. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to remind you he was there, and that he could, and just the thought had a coil tightening in your core, tingles spreading through your toes and fingers. 

“Bradley,” you whimpered, tears squeezing out of your eyes. “Baby, that feels so good, feels like yours, please–”

Bradley moaned into your skin, his lips latching onto your pulse point and sucking, and you keened, your back arching off the wall. The stretch of his cock was pulling your panties across your clit, and the driving press of him inside of you was so good, you could barely hear what he was whispering. 

“Is that what you want, honey?” he whispered into your skin. “Want to be mine? That’s what it feels like, honey, it feels like my pussy is so wet for me, dripping for this cock. It feels like my clit is so swollen, so desperate for attention; it feels like my girl’s gonna come on my hard fucking cock…”

Yes, yes that was what you wanted. 

You were already his, he didn’t know it, but hearing him say it had your mind going hazy, and your thighs trembling. 

“That’s fucking right, baby,” Bradley groaned, “I can feel you clenching down on me, can feel my pussy getting even tighter for me. This doesn’t feel like friends, baby, it feels like my girl’s about to come on my cock. 

You were lost, swimming in a sea of heat and sensation and Bradley’s words and you were pretty sure you were wailing, praying no one in the Hard Deck could hear you, but even if they could, you weren’t stopping. His cock was so deep in you, hitting you just right, and you knew what you needed to cum. 

“In me, Bradley,” you managed, your voice a weak whine. “Need to feel you come, please, fill me up with it.”

“Oh, fuck, honey,” Bradley choked, his hand tightening on your throat and his hips working faster. His pace was bruising, overwhelming, perfect and hard and you felt everything in you winding tighter.

“Of course you want my cum, fucking of course, if it’s my pussy, then that’s where it belongs isn’t it? That’s how you should be, stuffed so fucking full of me, dripping out of you, marked like mine, fucking mine–”

He was groaning, gasping, his hips speeding up and driving into you, and all you could do was take it, like it was what you were made for. You were boneless, euphoric, and when you felt Bradley’s hips stutter and his head drop to between your breasts, your orgasm broke over you. Bradley sagged into you, hips working weakly as he thrust his cum into you, and you felt it everywhere, marking you, like he said. You couldn’t breathe without him, only knew you were still vertical because he was holding you, and you felt so warm, so held, so full. 

His. 

You didn’t realize your eyes had closed until you were aware of Bradley asking you to open them. Your feet were on the ground, even though your legs were like a newborn deer, and your back was braced against the wall. Bradley was bent in front of you, brushing away your tears with the back of his hand. 

“Talk to me, honey,” he said softly, and you heard his voice like an echo, “need to know you’re okay.”

You nodded slowly, which mustn’t have been convincing, because Bradley was still fussing over you, like he hadn’t fucked you halfway into a new religion.  

You knew when he saw your back because of the sound of dismay that burst out of him, and then he was pulling off that damn Hawaiin shirt, brushing gravel off your back while your head hung low between your shoulders, still trying to remember how to breathe. 

Satisfied that he’d at least brushed the grit out of your skin, Bradley draped his shirt over your shoulders, protecting them, before guiding you to lean back. He licked his lips as his gaze tracked over your face, and you watched him convince himself to say something. 

“Did you mean it?” he asked quietly, but this time you heard him more clearly. “Would…would you want that? To be mine?”

It was your turn to stare. 

How could he doubt it? How was there any question? Not only after what you’d just begged him for, but before then, always, he had to know how good he was, and how all anyone wanted was to be in the light of his sunshine. 

“Obviously,” you said, your voice coming out as an alarming croak. “But we can’t, we–”

Bradley hugged you. 

It wasn’t what you expected.

After everything you’d just done, instigated by stop-talking kisses, there was something astonishingly intimate about Bradley wrapping you in his arms, enfolding you in his embrace, and you felt him relax when your arms hesitatingly wrapped around him too. He was warm, smelled like fresh sweat and you buried your face in the soft cotton of his undershirt. He held you tightly, and you thought he might’ve pressed a kiss to the top of your head, but then his hand was smoothing over your back, gentle, comforting. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, softly. “Together, okay?”

You nodded, knowing he could feel it, and he held you impossibly closer. It didn’t solve it. There were still fraternization rules, still some kind of unofficial vetting process you knew Mav and Ice would put you through, not to mention Penny…but as Bradley held you, you let it be enough.

And maybe it was enough, because, as your body hummed with the reminder of it, you were his.

//

tagging: @callsign-fangirl @bradshawsbitch @mxgyver @withahappyrefrain @teacupsandtopgun @lewmagoo @nancyxsorbet @sebsxphia @laracrofted @roleycoleyreccenter @sushiwriterhere @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @callsignvalley @wildbornsiren @hangmanshoney idk most people follow me for hangman and coyote so hope i did okay by roo

[leighsartworks216]

Might I request an enemies to friends to lovers with Astarion?

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LITTLE DRABBLE. IT IS ALMOST 4K WORDS. It also became a songfic. The song is "Your Stupid Face" by Kaden MacKay

Also it is 11:20. I am so tired. I do not have the energy to proofread this rn. So it's as good as it's gonna get

Warnings: self-doubt, bickering

Word Count: 3,957

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

I just really hate your face

Though I know that won't surprise you

But, to me, your skin is one giant wart

And your laugh's one big snort

And you stink, so in short

I despise you

You disgrace the human race

'Cause you're more of a mosquito

I would rather have the dentist and drill

Then this swine in the swill

And if you were a bill, I would veto

And if the world was perfect, you would be gone without a trace

But since the world could never be that great

I'll just hate your stupid face

-

Astarion sighed just behind you. You glared over your shoulder at him. Did he really have to be so annoying when you were trying to help? What did he have against doing the right thing?! Or were all high elves as up their asses as him?

The little girl glanced nervously between you, her hands fiddling anxiously with each other. “I-Is that alright?”

You turned back to her with a big smile, though Astarion could see the strain behind it. “Of course! It’s no problem. We’ll find your toy and bring it back before nightfall, how’s that sound?”

“Really?!” Her eyes became wide and excited, bouncing on her feet like there were hot coals beneath it. “Thank you so much!”

You watched as she ran off back to her mother, jumping as she grabbed the woman’s arm and pointed at you. You smiled, genuine this time, and waved to them both. Then, you turned to go back into the woods.

The joy didn’t last long.

“I thought being an adventurer meant slaying dragons, learning powerful spells, gaining power - that sort of thing.” Astarion sighed again, long and dramatic, as he stepped over a branch. “But, no, here we are, armed to the teeth, tadpoles crawling into our minds, looking for a stuffed animal.”

You grit your teeth together and tried to ignore him. The sooner you found the girl’s stuffed bear, the sooner you could stop listening to his whining. “She said she lost it over here, somewhere, but something could have taken it or moved it by now. If we split up, we can cover more ground.”

You could almost feel the way he rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. If I find it, I’m not telling you. And I’m certainly not going to touch it. Gods only know what’s on it.”

“You’re such a child!”

He lays a hand over his chest, looking down his nose at you. “I’m so sorry that I have some dignity left.”

How did you get stuck with such an annoying, self-entitled, brat? 

“Fine! Then I’ll look, and you can follow me around like a lost puppy.” You smiled sickeningly sweet up at him, your whole expression filled with sarcasm and annoyance. “Happy?”

He scowled. “And I have to follow you because…? If you’re so eager for my company, you should just say so, darling.”

You shook your head, facade falling. “You’re impossible.” You stomped off. He could follow you or wait around, you didn’t have the energy left to care.

—

Oh, no

No

I just really like your face

You don't have to look so happy

I'm not really into love that you flaunt

In some glittery font

But if that's what you want

Make it snappy

I just feel so out of place

Well, except for when you're near me

When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root

Or a song that's on mute

Don't you dare call it cute!

You should fear me!

And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space

But since the world's obsessed with saying, "psych!"

Now I like your stupid face

-

You tilted your head, watching as Astarion held up a mirror. The tadpole kept him from burning in the sun, but it did nothing to bring back his reflection.

“Looking at something?” His voice catches you off guard. It was odd to have someone talking to you with their back turned, even more so when he could see your reflection and you couldn’t see his.

“Just looking,” you tell him. “What are you doing?”

He sighs, forlorn. “I’m looking, too, but not seeing very much. Another quirk of my affliction.”

“Do you miss it?”

He stands and turns while he speaks, finally meeting you face-to-face. “Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?” He sighs again. His face looks so droopy and sad, like a puppy left out in the rain. “Of course I miss it. I’ve never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

You look at his eyes, really look. It was hard to picture him with any other color. It was a side-effect of his vampirism, but you could go your whole life believing they always were and always had been red. “What color were they before?”

He opens his mouth to answer, then stops. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. My face is just some dark shape in my past.” His face scrunches up in rage as he throws the mirror on the ground. You step back to avoid the shards that break from it. “Another thing I’ve lost.”

You can’t imagine forgetting your face. It’s a rather big portion of who you are, after all. Thinking about looking in a mirror and seeing nothing stirs your stomach like a witch’s brew. You study his face, eyes tracing over every curve and sharp edge and wrinkle. You tried to imagine being him, no longer able to see what you looked like.

Astarion frowns at you. “What?”

“I’ll be your mirror.” The words are out before you can even think them, but a spark of hope flickers in his eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to back out of it now. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know what the world sees when it looks at me.” He pauses. His voice gets soft, lacking its usual bravado. “What you see.”

He waits as you look at him. You try to figure out what the world sees, versus what you see. The world may see his eyes, sharp and red and keen. The world would see his dangerous smile, full of pretty teeth and sharp fangs, threatening to bite.

But it’s not what you see. You see his hair, paler than freshly fallen snow. You see the way it curls around his ears, how there’s always one stubborn strand hanging by his forehead. You see the wrinkles that crease his face when he smiles, surrounding his mouth and crowding in the corners of his eyes. And you’re startled, trying to figure out how long ago you’d noticed these things about him.

“I see… the creases when you laugh.”

He sneers, placing a hand over his chest. He takes it as an insult when you mean it in the kindest way possible. Without his wrinkles, he wouldn’t be Astarion. “Excuse me? I’m an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother.” He huffs. He looks like he wants to stop - never mind what he looks like, he doesn’t want to hear what else you could possibly say. But he continues, “You can do better. What else?” The curiosity wins out.

You wonder if you should tell him the easy answer. Tell him what the world sees. What everyone else sees. But to do so feels like a huge disservice. You inhale, prepared to be scolded once more. “I see the way your hair curls around your ears.”

“This is meant to be flattery, not poetry.” He sighs, creases forming between his brows as he frowns, annoyed. “Just tell me I’m beautiful and we can call it a day.”

“Is that all you want?” You don’t mean to sound as angry as you do. “Shallow praise?”

He scoffs. “Hardly.” He begins ticking off fingers. “There’s also gold, sex, revenge - quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

You shake your head. “What I see isn’t good enough for you then? The seductive, charming face you put on for everyone else - that’s what you want to know about?” He sneers. He hates how easily you’ve read him. And you hate how much it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s because your words mean nothing, or because he can’t even allow himself a single, beautiful flaw. “The world sees your eyes. They’re strong and piercing. And your smile: Dangerous. They see you for the monster you are. Are you satisfied now?”

You leave before he can answer you. Anger trembles in your fingers, but they’re weighed down with sadness. A conflicting bundle of emotions twists in your chest. You shouldn’t care if all he wants is to be called pretty and move on. You shouldn’t! And you don’t!

But you do…

—

I just really miss your face

Though, by now, I must disgust you

I had tried to be the stubbornest mule

'Cause I knew life was cruel

So I guess I was foolish to trust you

But I wait here just in case

Though I know I'm being senseless

How could I have ever been so naive

And wear my heart on my sleeve

When I knew it would leave me defenseless?

And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace

But since the world denied me one last kiss

I'll just miss your stupid face

-

The sun burned. Truly, honest to gods burned. And he ran. What else was he supposed to do? Bake in the sunlight while everyone else said their teary goodbyes, “We’ll see you down the road”, yadda yadda?

But, he can admit when he messed up.

He should have stayed longer. By the docks. The sun was just beginning to rise, he had plenty of time to slip from one shadow to the next before it was high in the sky. He could have said his goodbyes. He should have.

Already he missed Karlach. He fondly remembers when she hauled him over her shoulder, jostling him about as she ran. He certainly wasn’t too pleased at the time, but now… And he missed her nickname for him. And the banter, and teasing, and… everything.

Everyone had their charms, he supposed. Gale was, well, Gale, but even he wasn’t too bad. And you.

It was hard to admit. He could say he missed the others all day, but you? You who dragged him into the woods to find a stuffed animal for a kid? Who begrudgingly let him have a sip that night he revealed himself? Who yelled at him when he couldn’t bear hearing anything other than he wanted to when you offered to be his mirror? Who hugged him after he killed Cazador? Who helped him save his brothers and sisters and all the other souls whose lives he ruined? Who smiled so sweetly at him?

He couldn’t say it.

After he ran away, cursing and damning the gods for confining him to the shadows again, he disappeared to the Underdark. You’d mentioned how they needed a leader, guidance. And, well, he had nowhere else to go.

He never got to see you run in the direction he left after saying your goodbyes, smiling and excited. Or watch as you search and search for him. How you shout his name. How tears well in your eyes as you realize he’s gone.

And maybe it’s better that way.

—

What are you doing here?

I didn't run away!

It was... it was a strategic retreat

What is there to talk about? It's over—I ruined it

Well, yeah of course I'm sorry, but

No, no, don't forgive me!

Why do you do that?

Why—why give me another chance to mess things up?

Because you—what?

Those three little words

Out of the blue

Completely uncalled for

Especially from you

Why don't you hate me?

Why do you care?

Can't you berate me? Isn't that fair?

Where is your glare?

Don't you dare leave our problems and pain on the shelf!

Because if you don't hate me, I can't hate myself

But that's why I need you

You shatter my fear

'Cause despite my misdeed, you are still right here

Though it's stupid to date me

You're willing to try

And if you don't hate me, then why should I?

Are you sure you don't want to give up on me?

You're a moron

-

The last thing Astarion anticipates is you barging into his home, stomping and angry. The next last thing he expects is for you to throw a cloak in his face. He backs up as fast as you approach, tripping and falling backward over an armchair. It tips back with him and he lands with a thud. When he pulls the cloak off his face, you’re standing over him, still just as pissed as before.

“Ah.” He grins sheepishly. “Hello?”

“You ran away!”

“Yes, yes, I know-”

“You ran away! I went chasing after you and you were gone!”

“The sun! I couldn’t-”

“I know! That’s why I went and got you that damn cloak! And I was going to give it to you on the docks, but you ran away!”

He struggles to get up, grunting as he tries to push the armchair off so he’s not bent in half. You huff and sit the chair upright. Then, you offer him a hand. He’s not sure if he should take it. He’s half-certain you’ll flip him over and crack the floor with his body. But you wave your hand, insistent, and he does not want to piss you off any more, so he takes it. You haul him to his feet.

He holds the cloak out in front of him, studying it with a frown. “Darling, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but clothes don’t actually protect us from the sun.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” You sigh, hands on your hips, but you seem to have cooled off some. “It’s the Cloak of Dragomir. Gale helped me find where it was hidden. I figured, if the tadpole is the only thing keeping you safe in the sun, then after it’s all over, you’d need something else to protect you. So.” You gestured at the cloak.

He was speechless, and perhaps a bit skeptical. It had already been several weeks since the docks, and every day he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it. Basking in the sun. Lounging in her warmth like a cat as he sleepily flipped through a book. It sounded too good to be true - a simple piece of fabric that could prevent him from turning to ash?

“Are you sure it works?”

You laughed, airily and annoyed. “No, I had a shortage of vampires to test it on at the time. I was going to find out when you tried it on. If it didn’t work, well…” You let out a long breath. You refused to take your eyes away from the cloak. Like looking at him again would bring all the rage and frustration back. “I’m still in touch with Gale. He can help me look for something.”

He spun it around to look at the back. It was a deep purple, with the only remarkable feature being a sort of fur around the neck and shoulders. He could almost imagine it hanging up in a shop.

You cleared your throat. “Put it on.”

“Hardly the best place to test it. The sun doesn’t exactly reach down here.” Still, he unclasped it and swung it over his shoulders.

It was light and breezy, allowing air to move through, but warm enough it kept away any chill - not very concerning for a vampire, but still a nice feature. It reached mid-thigh. He shifted around in it, testing its movement and fit. He bristled when he felt something brush against his arm.

He lifted up the edge of the cloak where he felt it, and his undead heart stopped all over again. There, messily embroidered on the lining in gold thread. Little Star. A poor imitation of embroidered stars surrounded it, forming a sort of faux night sky.

“I did that.” You clear your throat and scratch the back of your head, avoiding his eyes everywhere you looked. Every time you glanced back at him and his dumbfounded face, your cheeks heated up. “I know it’s not as good as yours, but, you know, I thought it was the best way to get a message across.”

His chest was full of emotion. He still had a hard time deciphering it all, even after so long of you carefully teasing them out. But through it all was one resounding question.

“Why?”

You finally made eye contact with him. You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this can’t have been easy to get your hands on. You could have sold it when I ran away, but you embroidered it, sought me out… Why? Let’s be honest, dear, we’re not exactly friends.”

“We’re not exactly at each other’s throats either.” It came out harsher than you meant. You took a breath to calm your nerves. “I know we didn’t really get along when we first met - hells, we still argued about everything under the sun with the slightest prompting, but I do care for you.”

His lips quick up slightly. “An unfortunate choice. I’m not exactly the easiest person to care for.”

“No.” You smile, soft and patient. It was hard to look at you now and connect you to the person who barged into his room moments ago. “But I want to. You’re worth the effort.”

—

So you think that we could work?

Here I thought I'd been the dumb one—what?

You're forgiving me for all I did wrong

You're unmuting the song

And, again, I belong to someone

No! You can drop the stupid smirk

Though by now I guess you've earned that

'Cause no matter how intensely I pout

Your stupid face will win out

And I guess it's about time I learned that

And though we go together like a Chanel Nº 5 and mace

At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove

'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of

But I suppose that when push comes to shove

Fine!

I love your stupid face

-

You tugged Astarion through the city, releasing short apologies left and right to any early-risers you bumped into. He’d tried asking multiple times where in the hells you were taking him, but you never answered. You just shot him a bright smile over your shoulder and kept on running.

Before he knew it, you were at the docks. A light orange hue lined the edge of the ocean, signaling the sun’s appearance. He frowned. “You dragged me all the way out here to watch the sunrise?”

“Yes.” You squeezed his hand. Your eyes were wide and bright and filled with overwhelming glee. “You never got to see it last time you were here. But now you can!”

He scoffed, a grin teasing at his lips. “Darling, we could watch the sunrise from anywhere. We don’t need to be exactly here to do so.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, no, but it’s more about the principle of the thing. You didn’t get to see that sunrise and say goodbye, but now you can.”

Red eyes scanned the horizon. Oranges and yellows flooded from the ocean-line, chasing away the dark blue of night. He couldn’t deny it was beautiful, but…

He swallowed, frowning out at the sea. He couldn’t look at your face as he asked, quietly, too afraid to actually put the words out there, “So this is goodbye?”

The edge of the star poked her head out. He’d enjoyed watching the sunrises and sunsets during your adventure. He would welcome her touch onto his skin every day, grateful for even just a brief moment to be able to feel her warmth again after 200 years. And every night he would mourn her loss, a seed of fear planted deep within that any sunset could be his last, before he would be contained to the shadows forever. He never got to savor the last one. The one time he wasn’t prepared to go gracefully into that night.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you whisper back. If you hear the shuddering breath he lets out, you don’t say anything. If you see the tears building at the corners of his eyes as he turns to look at you, you don’t point it out. “I can stay. With you. If you want.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you.” But I wish I could. He wants nothing more than to be selfish. To take every single scrap you offer him and give nothing back.

You release his hand only to better tangle your fingers together. Your thumb runs along his palm. “You wouldn’t have to.”

“You’d be living in the shadows most of your life, even with this,” he lifts the edge of the cloak to make a point.

“Okay.”

“You wouldn’t be able to go on adventures. You wouldn’t be able to find someone else, have a family, live your life.”

“Okay.”

“Why are you so willing to give up everything for me?”

You raise your free hand to his cheek. It’s haloed by the red-orange light of the sun. He hates the way he leans into it without a second’s hesitation.

“Is it so hard to believe that I’d stay because I want to be with you?”

He opens his mouth, shuts it again, and tries to find the words. Strained, he chokes out, “Yes.”

“My lovely little star, even without the cloak, I’d stay in the shadows with you for eons. Adventure would be empty without you by my side. There is no one else I could bear to put up with besides you.”

He takes a breath and closes his eyes. It’s hard for the words to sink in, but he urges them to. Staying with him would not be a burden. He is not a burden. He holds your hand to his cheek, pressing it tighter against his skin. By the time he opens his eyes again, the sun is halfway risen.

“I’m not good at… this. Whatever this is. I have no idea how to do anything more than what I had to do. I have no idea what will happen.”

You smile. “Now that sounds like an adventure.”

He chuckles. The knot in his heart loosens. When had you turned from an annoying thorn in his side to this? How long ago had you wormed your way into his soul? What would he do without you?

He feels like he’s just been thrown downstream - caught in the current and waiting for it to burn. He’s uncertain as he leans forward slightly, experimentally. You let him come to you; you wait patiently and smile at him encouragingly until he rests his forehead against yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

The sun warms his skin as he lets go of the guilt holding him back. He’s a mess. He’s still working through his emotions with Cazador, trying to find footing amongst the spawn in the Underdark, trying to be good enough. And here you are saying he already is.

He catches your lips and allows himself to forget for the briefest moments that this is a terrible idea. How can he possibly think this is wrong when you sigh into his mouth and pull him closer? How can this possibly be wrong?

The reds, oranges, and yellows fade from the sky. Bright blue dominates the sky. And everything is okay.

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @chesb0red

[aethon-recs]

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 (One-Shot Edition)

Happy birthday to Tom! 🤍 Here's a round-up of some of the most interesting one-shots that I came across in 2023. I tried to include a broad range of tropes and themes and ratings, but I haven't read everything published on AO3 in the past year, so feel free to suggest any others in the comment section or in my ask box!

Criteria for this list: one- (or two-) shot, complete, published in 2023. Can be read in 1 sitting. The 2nd part of this list (23 longfics updated in 2023) coming soon. Happy reading!

*

23 Tomarrymort Recs for 2023 — One-Shots

A Deathly Visit by @purplewitch156 (E, 7k, complete)

There once was a wizard who feared Death more than anything.

a dream is a wish by @funkyatheart (E, 5k, complete)

Harry is no stranger to wet dreams. Nightmares too, of course. They mingle, and blend together in all the wrong and most alluring ways.

A Total Absence of Light by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 8k, complete)

My name is Tom Riddle, and I am the Boy Who Lived. Something happened to turn Harry Potter into the Dark Lord, and I will do whatever it takes to learn his secrets. I don’t care that he killed my parents. I don't care that he stole my childhood. All I want is to earn the right to call myself his apprentice.

and you'll forget who i have been by @apodius (M, 3k, complete)

Tom hugs you, and for a second you relax. And then you feel a sting on your bicep through your shirt, and the world goes fuzzy.

Anniversary by @vdoshu (E, 4k, complete)

There’s a feather-light touch to Harry’s scar, one that lingers before trailing around the side of his face, coming to rest over his lower lip and tugging it slightly. Harry steels himself, then opens his eyes. “Hello, husband,” he says, facing Voldemort’s hungry gaze. “Happy anniversary.”

Apotheosis by @duplicitywrites (M, 7k, complete)

Growing up side by side with Harry Potter, beloved prophecy child, Draco learned two very important things: One, Voldemort was a god, terrifyingly monstrous and more powerful than any wizard on the planet. And two, Harry Potter was his.

Banish Me to the Garden of Eden by @contrarywiseizybel (M, 7k, complete)

Harry Potter had expected the green of the killing curse, not the red of a stunning spell. He couldn't have guessed that Voldemort would discover the truth first, and chose to trap his wayward horcrux. And in his new cage there is a very simple rule: behave and be rewarded, act out and be punished. He had been asked to die, never told to live.

Cicatrize by @noumena-writes (T, 5k, complete)

When hit with Voldemort's killing curse, Harry awakens in King's Cross. Only thing is, Dumbledore is not the one waiting for him there.

Frigid by @mrviran (E, 3k, complete)

In which one of Voldemort's Horcruxes is broken, and needs to be fixed.

Game On by penn_and_paige (T, 13k, complete)

Tom Riddle didn't pay attention to Harry Evans — that is, of course, until Evans tried to kill him.

haunt me, then by i_am_a_tree (M, 5k, complete)

"Death," Potter says, an inexplicable expression on his face that Voldemort instinctively does not like, “is quicker and easier than falling asleep."  Voldemort does not deign that statement with a reply.

Honeyguide by @cannibalinc (E, 7k, complete)

“I need an Alpha," Tom states. "Someone older. Someone already established within the Ministry with strong connections. Someone kind, a bit stupid, and rich. A Pureblood, ideally. Someone who will soften my image.”

I'm Starving, Darling (Let me put my lips to something) by @winterdeath81 (E, 1k, complete)

Harry thought for a long time he didn't like kissing until he finds that he doesn't mind doing it with Voldemort.

Insatiate by @vdoshu (E, 2k, complete)

Voldemort stole both Harry and the Philosopher’s Stone, and doomed Harry to live a half-life. That was ten years ago.

it's kind of tripping me up babe, i've got it bad for you by @limonium-anemos (E, 3k, complete)

This could've been prevented if they were paying attention, Voldemort thinks. In which they get isekai'd into a cursed erotica book.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Love, Murder, Horcrux by @moontearpensfic (E, 8k, complete)

Tom makes Harry his Horcrux on the night of their wedding anniversary.

Ouroboros by @loneamaryllis (E, 5k, complete)

Red eyes followed Harrie wherever she was, in his class, in the Great Hall, walking down the corridors, out on the grounds. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, like scales sliding across her skin, cold, smooth, and prickling every defensive instinct she had.

Research and Development by @cannibalinc (E, 6k, complete)

Primary Objective: Establish with certainty that Subject IS or IS NOT a living Horcrux. Captured audio sample from Subject: You can’t keep me in here forever, Voldemort! Why don’t you come in here and face me, you COWARD! I’m not scared of you! Dumbledore will find me and—

Right in Front of My Salad? by IceLynx (T, 2k, complete)

In which Draco Malfoy is dead in the kitchen, Harry is regretting moving in with his boyfriend, and Tom has never been more in love.

Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 

Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.

That's Money, Honey by @dividawrites & @duplicitywrites (E, 10k, complete) 

Tom is a dear friend to many beautiful older women who love to treat him like their beloved son by spoiling him with presents. It is the perfect gateway to the perfect lifestyle—one full of frequent spa days, free holidays abroad, and all of the latest fashions. When Auror Harry Potter claims to be investigating Tom's 'inappropriate' relationships, Tom decides the best course of action is to instigate some 'inappropriate' behaviour of his own.

The Boy With the Green Ribbon by @meles-merrivale (T, 6k, complete)

In another world, what Sirius Black finds when he sprints into Godric’s Hollow that Halloween night is bad enough. In this world, it’s so much worse. It’s James—his best friend, his soulmate, the rest of him—dead in the doorway, and vibrant, warm Lily cold on the carpet, and there, standing in his crib seeing things no infant should see, is little baby Harry. And next to him, lying on the crib mattress, is the baby’s screaming head.

Would You Still Love Me? by @chiocchi (M, comic/artwork, WIP)

"Harry, would you still love me if I was a snake?" Harry knows how this question works. No matter how deranged and unreasonable it is, he has to say yes. A notion he may come to regret once Tom's questions start to get darker and oddly specific.

*

[yongbokkari]

lovesickness ᝰ໋᳝݊ຳི

ᝰ pairing — bf!changbin x reader

ᝰ word count — 4k+

ᝰ warnings — small argument (again) 🫰🏻, mention of period, reader had a bad day, pet names of baby and darling and slight angst, pls let me know if there's more !!

a/n — @soobnny im finally done 🥹 hope you guys will enjoy this one !! i have mixed feelings about this one bleh bleh bleh but i cried so 👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻 btw thank you so much for all the notes on my last seungmin post :(( u guys are so sweet i just want to put u guys in my pocket and carry u everywhere i go and cherish u everyday u guys have no idea how happy i get everytime i read ur notes :( <3

You brought out the leftovers from yesterday you had left to freeze to reheat them, stirring away so it would defrost faster. Your head was still terribly aching as hard as you tried to ignore it, in hopes that it would slowly go away.

The front door opened then, your boyfriend coming in after a visit to the gym. "Honey, I'm back~," He dragged out, his whiny voice instantly rising whenever he was with you. You just hummed, not putting it to mind to greet him in any sort, instead prodding the food harder since it wasn't budging to defrost faster.

"Honey, what are you making?" His voice became louder, and his steps closer until his hands were wrapped around you, his clingy side showing off. It had been a few days since you met since he had to stay at the dorms for a few practice sessions.

And you would've jumped up and down at the sight of him if it wasn't for the awful day you had and the pain going around in your head. The nauseous feeling you were getting wasn't helping either, only making your head ache even more.

"Just reheating yesterday's leftovers," You answered monotonously, shrugging off his arms so you could move to the fridge to take a few vegetables out to cook.

You loved his presence around you, you really did but now it just made you frustrated and annoyed that he wouldn't just leave you alone. You didn't want to meet his eyes, afraid that he would see the tension in you that you were trying so hard to contain inside.

"Are you okay? Did something happen honey, hm?" He asked, coming closer to you, but you continued to cook the vegetables silently, hoping he would get the message to just leave you alone. He didn’t and instead moving his head so he could see your face and was just all over you. You understood his need to help you feel better, but couldn’t you just have your space to yourself for a while?

“God, Changbin just- Can you just leave me alone? I clearly don’t want to talk about it, so can you just stop bothering me?” Your voice seemed to rise more as each word came out and you could see how startled he got at the sudden loudness after how quiet you were being. You stood there facing each other, waiting for him to reply. When it didn’t look like he would, you turned back towards the stove, continuing to stir.

After a while, you heard him say. “I didn’t have that blast of a day too, you know. You didn’t have to scream at me.” You heard the sound of his footsteps receding down the hallway, until finally there was the soft thud of your bedroom door.

You sighed. He was right, you definitely didn’t have to scream at him, so why did you? When the food was fully defrosted and the vegetables were cooked, you turned off the stove and slowly crouched down. Your head was hurting so much more, now that you had raised your voice like that. Guess that’s what you get for acting like an asshole.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” You muttered, your hands repeatedly hitting your pounding head. How were you going to make up for it this time? Do you pretend nothing happened? Yeah, you should probably try that. You’ll see whether he’ll talk to you, then you’ll see where to go from there.

You waited for a few minutes, assuming the time it would take for him to finish showering, as you arranged the plates on the table and served the food. 30 minutes passed. He should be settled down now, you thought to yourself as your braced yourself to enter your bedroom.

You pushed the door open, “Bin-ah?” You called out, looking for him, only to see him at his table with his laptop open. You entered the room a bit more, afraid to come too close to him in case he didn’t want to be close to you. “Bin-ah, let’s eat. I’ve finished setting up the table.”

You had smiled then, shamelessly hoping his heart would soften enough to forgive you, but it was to no use as he didn’t even look up to you as he replied. “I don’t feel like eating. You eat first.”

You couldn’t help the tug and heaviness you felt in your chest. “Oh, okay,” You answered, before exiting and closing the door. Why were there tears in your eyes? Why is the ache in your chest not going away? You clutched at it, breathing in and out, hoping it would go. Now the tears were flowing out. Why were they coming out?

Didn’t you deserve this treatment? After how yours was towards him?

You wiped the tears away and walked to the dining table to put the lids on the containers you used to put the food in. You put the rice back in the rice cooker, and the plates back into the shelf. Your appetite was gone now. Most of the meals you’ve had since you were with Changbin had been with him. It upset you to think that the reason he wasn’t eating was because of you.

You were thankful that you had agreed on your personal room where you could do your work, otherwise Changbin would have to face you. You went into the room, and sat at your table. You couldn’t think of any assignments you had that was due soon, but you managed to find one that was due not for another 3 weeks. But you would take anything to distract yourself from the pain that you simultaneously felt and caused.

˚ ༘♡ · ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The clock showed 11:36. You were at your laptop working on your assignments for 5 hours. Partially, that is. Most of those hours were just you staring off into the distance wondering when Changbin would come and talk to you again.

You thought of whether it was fine for you to sleep in your bedroom. Would he leave and go sleep on the couch? You wouldn’t want him to. He always complained about his back hurting, plus it always felt strange to sleep without him in the room. But usually he would be asleep by the time, so you turned off your laptop and got up to check on him.

You opened the door to your bedroom slowly, peering inside, and true enough he was fast asleep. Changbin’s sleeping position varied on a daily basis. At times he would be sleeping on his stomach, sometimes on his right or left side, facing upwards, and sometimes in questionable positions you didn’t bother to ask about anymore. Tonight he was on his left side, facing away from your side of the bed. Was tonight’s position a random pick or did a certain event of the day lead him to it? Did he not want to look at you that badly?

You went to the kitchen to put the once again leftovers back into the fridge, but the table was empty, containers all washed, the sink clean of foams from the dish soap. Changbin always made sure to clean the kitchen before sleeping. You always told him to let you do it, but he had said you were already doing so much in the house, it was the least he could do. You divided your chores weekly, so in no way were you doing anything more than him. Your heart hurt thinking of what happened in the evening. What you did and said to the world’s sweetest boy.

You went into the bedroom’s bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You sighed before getting under the blanket, careful not to pull too hard. While Changbin’s sleeping position varied, yours were always the same. You were always sleeping on your side on the right side of the bed. Unless he was hugging you. Then you would be facing him.

But tonight could be an exception. You were scared he really didn’t want to see you, so you didn’t sleep on your left side, and instead opted for facing upwards. Being able to see him from the corner of your eyes was enough, you think. They say beggars can’t be choosers.

˚ ༘♡ · ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

You woke up to the left side of the bed empty. You and Changbin loved to sleep in, sometimes even until 3 pm, when both of you were too tired to care about your grumbling stomach, content with each other's company.

That day, Changbin chose to wake up early that day. Was it another random choice or a careful pick?

You heard the sound of pans clattering in the kitchen. You rarely ever ate breakfast. You wished you had. Then you would have a reason to go talk to Changbin. When did you ever need a reason to talk to your boyfriend? Right. Since you decided to be a prick yesterday. You rubbed your face, sighing.

You got up and out of the room and into the kitchen, the view of your boyfriend washing the dishes coming into view. He was wearing his usual gym clothes. It was only 12 pm, was he already going out?

"Oh you're awake," Changbin said, looking up to you for a second before returning his attention back to the dishes. When he was done, he patted his hands on his pants to dry them. "I'm going to the dorm. Chan hyung asked me to come over to help him with something. Then I'm going straight to the gym," He said, before meeting eyes with you. "Do you want to eat anything? I can make something for you."

"No, it's fine, I'm not hungry," You said. Your stomach was hurting, and your headache from yesterday was still there, so you couldn't really focus on your hunger.

Changbin hummed, before making his way past you, and into the room. You made your way to the couch, arranging the papers you were working on yesterday at the table before cooking, but had forgotten to tidy up before going to sleep.

You heard Changbin's steps shuffling throughout the corridor, before finally he came out with his backpack he brought his spare clothes in.

"Chan hyung is probably asking for my help with some tracks, so we'll probably continue after coming back from the gym. You don't have to wait for me to come home. Knowing Chan hyung he's definitely working on the tracks till past midnight. I don't really want him to have to work alone."

You hummed, nodding. Your eyes met for a few seconds, not saying anything. Was he still mad at you? Should you apologize now? Would he accept your apology?

Before you had the chance to sort your thoughts, he came over and planted a kiss on your cheek. "See you," He said, to which you responded the same. Your eyes followed him moving to the front door, before finally getting out of the house, the door closing.

Should you have run after him? Ask him to forgive you and to please stop acting like a stranger? To please hug you like he would always do before he went anywhere without you? Would you be considered clingy if you pleaded for him to hold your face and kiss you so he could make you feel better the way only he could?

There you go again being selfish. It was always for you. Never for him. Then you wonder why he was acting so cold towards you?

You sighed, laying down sideways on the couch. You clutched your stomach, your stomach ache suddenly getting worse. You checked your period tracker, and sure enough the app predicted for your period to come today. Today, of all days?

You went to the bathroom to put on a pad so you wouldn’t bleed out, then sat on the couch once again to continue your work.

You hoped Changbin wouldn’t stay there for too long. Did he have enough for breakfast? You were the one who usually makes breakfast since his cooking skills were limited to frying eggs and making toasts. Should you cook some food and send it to their dorm, or would that cross his boundaries? Though looking at your condition, you weren��t sure if you could even dress up without having the urge to crouch down from the pain every 5 minutes.

Hopefully he had enough this morning. You wouldn’t want him to get a stomach ache too. Another thing you were hoping was to be able to finish your work, but could you even with Changbin constantly on your mind?

˚ ༘♡ · ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

Changbin turned on his phone to see ‘1:30’ flashing on his phone. Did they really work on the songs for that long? He rolled his shoulders that were hurting from sitting slouched on the chair for too long. He pocketed out his keys, before unlocking the front door to your house.

“I’m home,” He mumbled, a habit of his, though he wished you wouldn’t be there to answer him because why would you be awake at that time? Thankfully you weren’t there to welcome him, but rather sleeping on the couch with your laptop propped open on the table.

He arranged his shoes on the rack then quickly put his bag aside to tend to you. “Why are you sleeping here,” He muttered to himself, saving your work, then shutting down your laptop. He looked at you and sighed. “How many times do I have to tell her to take her spectacles off before sleeping? Then tomorrow she’ll wake up complaining about it being crooked,” He muttered smiling to himself, before moving to take your spectacles off of you but then stopped.

His fingers that were in touch with your temples could feel your slightly warmer skin. Were you having a fever? He felt the temperature of your forehead with the back of his hand and you were definitely warmer than you usually were.

“Y/n. Y/n, wake up,” He shook your arm slightly until you slowly stirred awake. “Y/n, hey wake up. Are you having a fever?”

“Hm? Oh, you’re back? I slept? Ah, I’m not even done with my work yet,” You said, all the while he was worrying about your condition. As you tried to sit up, your head started to pound, making you grunt and immediately laying your head down onto the couch again.

“Y/n, are you having a fever? Have you taken any medicine?” He asked, more worried now that you were experiencing more pain.

“I’m not sure, my body’s just a little warm. I tried-” You paused, your headache making you pant, causing you to not be able to talk properly. “I tried searching for the medicine in the drawers, but I couldn’t find any. I think we ran out of them.”

Changbin sighed. “I thought I told you that I keep the spare medicine in the cabinet beside the fridge since they couldn’t fit the drawer.” He got up to get the medicine. He noticed that no food was on the table, so you definitely haven’t had any meals yet. He took out the leftovers from yesterday and quickly reheated them.

He came to your side on the couch once again with a plate full of food. He set down a glass of water and a packet of pills on the table. He scooped up some rice and meat and blowed on it before setting the spoon in front of you, ready to feed you. You were too tired to refuse him feeding you , so you opened your mouth welcoming the food.

You took the packet of pills, but Changbin quickly took it away from you, putting it back on the table. “You haven’t had anything today, so you need to eat more before you can take the pill. If not, you’ll get a stomach ache. Have your period started?” You nodded, muttering 'Just today,'. “Ah, then it’ll definitely hurt more if you take the pill now.” He offered you a spoonful of rice again.

You continued to consume two more spoons of rice, before Changbin finally handed you a pill and the glass of water. As soon as you chugged it down, Changbin was already holding a spoonful of food again.

“Why didn’t you eat? Do I always have to remind you to take your meals?” He sighed. As he was about to feed you another, you stopped him, shaking your head. Your appetite was nowhere to be found and you wished you could just sleep now. He clicked his tongue. “Come on, just finish this plate.”

Were you troubling him? He must be tired. He had been sighing non-stop since he came back. Ah, why didn’t you sleep in the room? Why did you have to sleep on the couch? He had a long day, and now this?

Your throat felt constricted by the second, your guilt rising. Your tears were forming. No, Y/n you can’t cry now. Why are you crying? Come on, come on don’t cry, please, not now, not in front of Changbin, Don’t trouble him more.

As you ate another spoonful, you looked away as you felt your tears were threatening to spill out.

“Why, what happened?” Changbin asked, his voice laced with concern.

You quickly turned back towards him, shaking your head. “No it’s nothing,” You cleared your throat. As you continued to chew, it slowly became more difficult to swallow. You felt the tears you were fighting so hard before roll down your cheeks. You saw Changbin looking more worried. “No, it’s nothing. My head is just hurting too much,” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the situation.

You sat there wiping your tears, before Changbin pulled you into a hug. “No, I swear it’s- It’s nothing. My head is just hurting, it’s fine.”

You sat there forcefully trying to stop the tears, before slowly Changbin brought his hand up to caress your head.

“Does it hurt a lot? Is my baby hurting?” His voice was so gentle, so afraid to break you more, that it ended doing just that as your heart broke more from how loving he was being.

His hold was too warm, that it made your tears spill out more and more, even when you try to stop them. Changbin had a knack for making people’s walls break down, and that night was no different. “It does. It hurts so much. I’m so sorry Bin, I’m so sorry,” Your voice came out in choked gasps.

“You don’t have to apologize darling, it’s fine. I’ll take care of you. The pain will be gone in no time, hm?” One of his hands never stopped caressing your head, the other massaging the back of your neck as he knew how strained it gets when you’re crying.

“No, I’m sorry Bin, for everything. I- I’ve troubled you so much. Yesterday I snapped at you and- and now this. I’m so sorry for being such a nuisance to you. Please don’t hate me,” You grip on his shirt tightened, your shoulders heaving up and down from how hard you were crying.

“Hey, Y/n come on. Don’t say that,” He pulled you away to look at your face, wiping your tears away. “How could you say that baby? I would never hate you. Hearing you say that breaks my heart. I was also acting stupid. I- Some of my friends were just talking about how I was too lenient with people I love that I’ll end up getting stepped on, and you know I want to take care of myself better. But- God, why did I ever think you would do that to me? I’m so sorry baby,” His words came out hurriedly, and once again he pulled you into a hug.

“I was being such a dick baby, I’m so sorry. Here, just hit me, come on.” He took your hand and began to hit his head with it and quickly you shook your head pulling away. “Please don’t cry. I can’t believe I’m making you cry, I’m so sorry baby.” This time it was you who pulled away, taking his face in your hand.

“No, you know I always want you to take care of yourself, please don’t ever forget to just because of me,” You caressed his cheek, your heart breaking from how his lips were frowning. “I’m so sorry for raising my voice at you, you didn’t deserve that. I’ll never do that again, I promise.”

“And I promise I’ll never act cold towards you again baby, not once. God, I’m so sorry.” You hugged again, for how long you weren’t sure but you were more than happy to make up for the time lost without being able to cling onto him.

After a while, he slowly pulled away. “You just have to finish this plate okay? There’s just a little more, you can finish it baby,” His hand was holding yours, his thumb caressing the back of it. You nodded. He continued to feed you until the last spoon. “You wait here, okay? I’ll go wash the plate then I’ll fill a bottle with water for you to drink in bed, okay?” He got up and kissed your forehead before moving to the kitchen. Your head was pounding a bit more, so you laid your head on the headrest.

Immediately after he came back, he took your hand to slowly lead you into the bedroom. He got out of the bedroom for a while before coming back in with a fever cooling patch in hand which he gently stick onto your forehead. He put your hair up into a bun so your hair wouldn’t stick to your neck from the sweat. Though a bit messy, the gesture didn’t fail to make your heart light up. He made sure you didn’t sleep with the blanket so heat from inside of your body could come out. He didn’t too, so you wouldn’t have to face the coolness of the night alone, but he made up for it by cuddling.

You laid in silence, afraid to break it. Were you okay now? Could you finally hug and kiss him all you want now? Would he continue calling you his favourite pet names for you?

“Y/n,” He suddenly interrupted the silence. “I really am sorry. I don’t know why or how I could even think of treating you like that. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me.”

“It’s fine, Bin. I always want you to think of yourself first. I’m happy when you do. It’s my fault for letting my temper get the best of me. I was having a bad day, and my period was on the way, but still, that’s no excuse for treating you like that. I promise I’ll work on it.”

“You know you can talk to me whenever you’re not feeling well, right?” You hummed in response. “Good… Let’s never do that again, okay? I couldn’t really focus on doing anything when all I could think about was the next time I could finally kiss you again.” You chuckled and looked up.

“Well now is a great time for that,” You smiled, and as he leaned into you, it finally dawned on you. You stopped him with your palm on his lips. “Wait, no! I’m having a fever, we can’t kiss! We shouldn’t even be sleeping so close, you’ll get infected!” You tried to push him away, but he only pulled you closer, putting his strength to use.

“Then you’ll take care of me won’t you?” He grinned, coming closer, kissing all over your face.

You slept that night in the arms of each other. You stayed in bed until evening, even when both of you were awake, just to be able to stay close together. The next day, you temperature slowly lowered, unlike Changbin’s. You had nagged him, telling him how you had told him to not be too close to you. But you didn’t mind having to take care of him. At this point, you’d do anything for him. For your heart, your love, your everything.

[yeonjunsbxtch]

I Feel Everything - Kang Taehyun

Summary: You loved Taehyun, but sometimes he was just a bit too cold. He wasn’t good at showing his emotions, which often left you wondering what was going through his head. Until one day, you snapped when he was late to your anniversary dinner. And he didn’t seem to care all too much. So you decided it was time to call it quits. Little did you know that was enough to trigger some emotion out of him.

Genre: angst, smut, slight fluff

Warnings: yelling, cold!taehyun, laughing during an argument, unprotected sex, marking, dom!taehyun, possessiveness, pet names, degradation, dirty talk, arguing, swearing, insults, angry!taehyun, choking, toxic, edging, cunnilingus, praise, Taehyun calls reader a bitch, reader is wearing a dress, insinuates reader is inexperienced, overstimulation.

Pairing: Taehyun x fem!reader

Word count: 4k+

Song Inspo: I Feel Everything - Amelia Moore, Die For You - The Weeknd

Reminder: This fic does not reflect Taehyun as a person. This is fiction.

*

*

*

"How could you do this to me?! Do you not realize how stupid I looked?!" Your lungs exploded as you busted through Taehyun's front door with Taehyun dragging his feet behind you. You were disappointed when your attempt to slam the door on his face failed.

"Can you not be so loud? I have neighbors." Taehyun said flatly as he gently closed the door behind him.

"Why?! You don't want people hearing how much of a shitty boyfriend you are?!" Your voice even louder now, purposely trying to get anyone you could to hear you. You walked further into the house, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

"Y/N.."

"What!?"

"You need to take your shoes off."

Of course that is all he cares about. You glared at him, thinking for a moment he was finally going to show empathy.

You sent the shoes on your feet flying across the room, earning an eye roll from the asshole behind you.

"Are you happy now?!"

"Can you calm down?"

"No! Why don't you care about me Taehyun?!" You screamed at the pink haired boy now in front of you. Tears were streaming down your face as Taehyun stood still, not batting an eye. His blank stare burned through you.

"I do."

You wanted to rip your hair out with how monotoned he was.

No matter the argument, Taehyun never seemed.. bothered. He never expressed his emotions to you, which left you constantly wondering what he was thinking. Not even during the most intense arguments would he open up. At first, you thought he just needed to get more comfortable. But now after a year of dating, he remains the same. And you've about had enough.

"No! No you don't Taehyun! We had plans for our one year tonight and you don't even care that you were late! I've been trying to express to you how hurt I am and you don't even care! You're so emotionless while I'm left to feel everything!"

Your blood started to run hot as you saw a smirk form on Taehyun's face. Taehyun sneered at you, letting out a sardonic chuckle. You knew he never took you seriously. But you never knew the extent of it, until now.

"Are you laughing at me?" Your voice now quiet.

"Yeah I am. This is ridiculous y/n! I told you I had practice later than expected and you can't take that as an answer."

And even still, everything you said went over Taehyun's head. It wasn't that you couldn't take it as an answer. It was because you've taken it as an answer too many times.

"You always say that Taehyun. And I accept it every single time even though it hurts me. But what hurts me the most is how nonchalant you are about it! You don't even care that you had practice late! You don't even care that I was waiting at the restaurant by myself looking stupid for an hour! I even went out of my way to buy a brand new dress just for tonight and you don't fucking care! If you cared, I wouldn't always have to beg you to tell me how you're feeling or get any sort of comfort out of you!"

"Then why are you still with me?"

And that was when your heart shattered. You looked at him for a moment, trying to find any remorse in his empty expression. All you wanted was for him to comfort you. All you wanted was for him to finally open up to you. But there was no attempt to fight for you. And you knew there was no hope in trying to hold on.

"I don't know." Was all you could say. It felt like your chest was ripping open. You had given the man in front of you your all. All of your love had been poured into him while you got nothing in return. "I shouldn't have to beg to be loved Taehyun."

Taehyun continued to stare at you. You still could not read him. And you knew you were never going to be able to. So it was time you admitted defeat. Without saying another word, you turned around and headed upstairs.

You went straight to Taehyun's bedroom to start packing the things you had left at his place. Only now, you felt they were just a big waste of space.

You started going around the room, gathering your things one by one and throwing them into a duffle bag. You didn't care about knocking things over. You didn't care about making a mess. You just wanted to get out of there as soon as you could.

You made your way over to 'your' side of the bed, where various items of yours had made a home for themselves on the nigthstand. You swept everything into the bag at once with your arm, dropping a few things here and there. You wiped tears from your face as you kneeled down, frantically trying to pick everything up. You filled your lungs with as much air as you could, trying your hardest not to burst into tears again.

Suddenly, you heard the door crack open. You knew who it was and it took every ounce of your strength to ignore him. Your shaking hands continued to attempt to pick up everything that had fallen.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

Your stomach turned, creating a nauseating feeling within you. You kept your head down, trying to not look at him.

"I'm packing. What does it look like I'm doing you fucking robot."

"Y/N, Stop packing.. please."

The sound of panic was pronounced in his voice causing you to come to a halt. Your eyes stayed glued to your bag, refusing to look at him despite his unfamiliar tone. 

"Why should I stop? You're the one who suggested I leave you. So that's what I'm doing."

"Just... stop... please Y/N."

You finally looked at him. There he was standing by the door, hands wrapped around the back of his neck as he watched you anxiously. His eyes were wide and full of panic. You couldn't help but feel a little guilty in that moment, seeing him like you've never seen him before.

You had to admit, you felt bad for him. You never meant to make him react like this. But on the other hand, you were angry. Angry that it took you leaving him to make him show any emotion at all. And that anger within you was just a little bit stronger.

You looked back down at the bag in your hand. It took everything you had to put the last of your things in the bag. Standing up, you tried your best to avoid eye contact with Taehyun who had already closed the door, now standing guard of it.

"Please move Taehyun."

"No."

Your heart was beating fast. There he was, attempting to fight for you in some way, shape or form. But you knew settling for this wouldn't be good for either of you. 

"Taehyun, I'm leaving. You need to move and let me through."

Taehyun kept his eyes locked on you as he hesitantly took a step to the side. 'Well that didn't last long.' You felt conflicted in this moment. You told him to move but why did your heart sink when he actually moved?

As you were about to reach for the knob, you felt your bag being pulled out of your grasp.

"What the fuck are yo-"

Before you could finish your sentence, you were shoved up against the door, both of your hands being pinned on either side of you. You struggled to get out of Taehyun's grip until your eyes inevitably met his. He stared down at you with a dark and narrow gaze. His jaw was clenched, face red with anger. Also an emotion you've never seen from him. You began to sweat, experiencing a side of him you've never seen before.

"Taehyun.. please.. let me go." You managed to breath out.

Taehyun inched closer to you. His chest now pressing against yours. He slowly leaned down to meet his lips with your ear as he tightened his grip on your wrists.

"You're not going anywhere."

His hot breath against your ear sent goosebumps throughout your body. You swallowed hard as you shut your eyes for a brief moment, taking in the sweet sensation of his lips softly grazing against your skin.

You twisted your wrists at one more attempt of escaping until you felt his breath flow down your neck. Your knees buckled underneath you and for a moment, you were actually relieved Taehyun had a hold of you. You couldn't believe how weak you were for him. Taehyun roughly connected his wet lips with your neck and it took everything you had not to moan out his name. You held your bottom lip between your teeth as he took his time placing harsh, opened mouthed kisses along the side of your neck. The feeling mixed between pain and pleasure as he ended each kiss with a harsh pull of your skin.

"Taehyun.." His name finally escaping your lips. You breathed out as he continued to savor the taste of your neck.

You squirmed underneath him, the tingling sensation traveling from your neck to your core. The unfamiliar feeling enveloped you as you tried your best to keep your strength. But you knew this was a battle you would not win.

"First you wanted to leave me.." you shivered at the sudden vibration of his voice against you. You felt Taehyun trail his tongue up your neck. He kissed around the shell of your ear before continuing his sentence. "Now you're moaning my name before I've even fucked you."

Taehyun then pulled back to get a good look at you. You gazed up at him with heavy lids, mind now clouded with only him. Everything that had happened leading up to this moment had completely left your mind.

"Now tell me what you really want princess. Do you want to leave.." He slowly dragged his finger up your body, caressing every curve until he got to your neck. He wrapped his hand firmly around your throat, earning a gasp as you briefly lost your breath. "Or do you want to be a good little slut for me?"

You couldn't speak. His manipulation tactics were something you could see right through. But that did not mean they didn't work.

"What's wrong? Hm? Bitch can't speak?" He tightened the grip around your throat just enough for your mouth to open even wider for his admiration. "You sure knew how to use that pretty little mouth earlier."

You felt the hold he had on you. You were hearing the words that were coming out of his mouth. You saw the rage in his eyes. The thought of not knowing what he was going to do to you was enough to make you tremble. And yet, you still felt a sense of security within this new side of him. And you couldn't lie, you loved it.

You were suddenly gasping for air as you felt Taehyun release his grip on you. He took a step back, disconnecting himself from you. Suddenly, you felt empty. A fire ingnited within you, frustrated that Taehyun had riled you up for nothing.

"Why.. Why did you.." You couldn't even finish your sentence. Your body was weak. Your voice raspy.

"Stop? You need to tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me I can ruin you."

All feeling in your legs dissipated. His deep voice echoed through your body, awakening a deep desire you had failed to realize you had before.

"Taehyun.. please.."

The end of Taehyun's lip tugged up, knowing the effect he had on you. He took a step towards you, towering over you as he kept his dark gaze locked on yours. You gazed back up at him with a pleading look in your eyes. The tension growing stronger by the second. 

He inched closer, you could feel the warmth of his lips radiating onto yours. Your lips trembled, begging to be kissed by his.

"Please what?" His voice now soft yet still filled with so much desire.

You found your arms wrapping around him. His body felt hot under your touch as his arms stayed by his side, refusing to touch you until he has your permission. Your hand slowly traveled to the nape of his neck, caressing it softly as you saw him flutter his eyes for a moment. You pulled him even closer to you, his lips now brushing against yours.

"Please ruin me."

All hesitation faded from you as you pulled him fully into you, connecting his lips with yours. He wasted no time in returning the kiss, devouring you as he pushed you further against the door. His arm glided down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible. He pulled away for a moment, leaving you breathless as he tugged at your bottom lip.

Taehyun slid his hands down, taking a hold of your ass as he grinded into you. You could feel his erection pressing against you and you wanted nothing more than for it to be inside you. His hands made their way to the back of your thighs, swiftly pulling them around his waist. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck, holding onto him as your tongues swirled together.

It wasn't long until you felt your back hit the mattress. You let out a whine, missing the feel of his lips on yours. Taehyun stood over you, watching as your body squirmed, withdrawing from his touch.

"How bad do you want me to touch you?" He traced small circles along your stomach, teasing you every time he made his way lower.

"Really bad Taehyun.. So bad.."

"Mmm, that's what I like to hear."

He began to play with the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose your panties. He let out a pleased sigh, seeing the wet spot that had quickly formed on your pretty underwear.

He smirked at the way you instinctively opened your legs the second he touched your skin. He slowly started caressing your bare thighs, his thumbs brushing around the inner lining of your panties. Each stroke of his hands causing you to tremble.

His hands slowly made their way up, grabbing a hold of your underwear and gently pulling them down. He took his time, savoring the way you shivered, feeling the way the cooler air hit your now exposed pussy. He pulled your panties completely off of you, throwing them who knows where. His eyes were only on you and the way your pussy glistened in front of him.

"Shit baby.. look at you." You cooed at the way he called you baby, a nickname you've been craving for a while now. Taehyun watched as your chest heaved up and down, growing impatient at the way he took his time. "You're so fucking wet and we aren't even halfway done. So fucking pathetic."

His voice sounded sweet but his words were like daggers that carved into you in the best way possible.

"Please do something Taehyun.. please"

Yeah, he was right. You did sound pathetic. But there was nothing more you needed than for him to ravish you.

"Be patient my love. Consider this punishment for your behavior before."

Your body shivered as you felt the warmth of his breath slowly approach your core. His lips just inches away from finally giving you the pleasure you craved. He lightly grazed the tip of his tongue up your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath as you bucked your hips, pleading for more. He followed with another lick, this time with more passion. You couldn't help but reach down and tangle your fingers in his soft locks.

He let out a low groan, loving the way you pushed him closer as he sucked on your clit. You glanced down at him, locking eyes with him as he was already watching the way you reacted to his every move.

"Baby you taste so fucking good.."

Moans were flooding out of your mouth, repeating his name over and over again as the sensation became more intense. You were practically suffocating Taehyun at this point with the way you wrapped your legs around his neck. He grabbed onto your thighs, squeezing them as he continued to flatten his tongue along your folds.

With the way you were moving your hips, he could tell you were close. The fire in your core grew as did the tension in your abdomen feeling every vibration of his groans.

"Ahh.. Taehyun.. I'm gonna cum.." Your words came out as whines as you rocked your pussy against his tongue.

You were about to come undone when Taehyun suddenly drew back.

"Ahh! Fuck Taehyun! What the hell!?" You cried out, needing the release more than anything. Taehyun then stood up, leaning over you as tears were falling down your face.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be able to cum soon."

He wiped a few tears off your face before proceeding to unbuckle his belt. He then pulled his pants down along with his boxers, finally freeing his cock. You watched as he swiftly pulled his shirt off, revealing his perfectly toned body.

"Take your clothes off and lay down on the bed. Now." Taehyun demanded. You instantly sat up at his command, unzipping the back of your dress and quickly taking it off. Taehyun watched as you unhooked your bra and threw it on the ground. He licked his lips at the way you crawled up the bed, laying your head down on the pillow per his order. You felt your face heat up. You couldn't help but feel a little shy, covering your body with your arms.

Taehyun got onto the bed, making his way up to you, not breaking eye contact for a second.

"Good girl.. but.." He gently pulled your arms off your body, laying them down at your sides. "Don't cover your beautiful body."

He grabbed both your legs and laid them over his shoulders. You watched in anticipation as he started stroking his cock, precum dripping out of the tip.

The tight feeling in your stomach returned as he began to stroke your slick folds with the tip of his cock, just barely pushing the tip in each time he slid down to your entrance.

"Taehyun.. Please just fuck me."

"Shh.. Let me take my time. I have some things to make up to you."

He then aligned himself at your entrance, finally sliding into you. You let out a long moan, feeling him stretch you out so perfectly. Your walls clenching around him, earning a hiss from him.

"F-fuck.. you feel so good."

He slowly started to move in and out of you, picking up the pace with each thrust. He looked down and watched the way he disappeared inside of you, loving the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Your pretty little moans were music to his ears and he couldn't get enough. He now hovered over you, keeping your legs over his shoulders as he rocked his hips harder into you, hitting your cervix just right. You felt like you could explode right then and there with the way he used your body.

"Baby you take my cock so good." He placed kisses along your forehead, comforting you from any pain you might have been feeling. You wrapped your arms around his torso, digging your nails into his back causing him to go even faster.

"It feels so good Taehyun.."

He kissed you once more, swallowing your moans. This time with passion unlike anything you've experienced before. He pressed your knees into your chest, hitting a spot you never knew was possible. You squeezed your eyes shut, drowning in total ecstasy. You didn't know whether to grip the sheets or Taehyun's strong arms as he pounded into you. Taehyun spewed low groans repeatedly as he continued to plunge inside of you.

"Fuckk.. baby you're so wet." Taehyun hissed, hearing the sounds your pussy made with each thrust.

"All.. for you.."

Taehyun let out a growl, hearing the words and moans that flooded out of your mouth. He pried one of your hands off the bedsheet, guiding it down to your clit.

"Rub yourself for me baby.."

You did as you were told, eagerly massaging your clit in a circular motion. Taehyun's hand made its way back up to your throat, this time gripping it just enough to keep your gaze aligned with his. You looked into his dark eyes, tears running down your cheeks as your stomach started to tighten. The pressure in your abdomen growing immensely. You tried to push back on him, feeling the pressure becoming too much. But your attempts failed as Taehyun held you down, your reaction making him fuck you harder, forcing you to experience the intense, unfamiliar feeling.

"Tae-Taehyun.. It's too much.." You whimpered out, squirming under his dominance. But just when you thought he couldn't go any faster, he did, thrusting his hips up into you in a merciless rhythm.

"Baby you're doing soo good.. ahh f-fuck.. you're almost there I can feel it."

That was enough for you to completely lose yourself. You screamed out in ecstasy, dissolving in pleasure as you reached your high. He watched your every expression as he felt your walls pulsating around him, your fluids soaking him.

And hearing you scream his name as your release saturated his cock was enough for him to finally come undone.

"Shit shit shit.. I'm cumming y/n.."

Taehyun's hips stuttered as he emptied himself inside you. He slowed down his thrusts as he rode out his high, making sure every drop of his cum was deep inside you.

All movements then came to a stop. The two of you laid in silence, catching your breath and gazing into each other, slowly coming back to reality. Moments passed before the silence was broken. 

"I-I'm sorry.." Taehyun whispered out, swallowing hard. You saw his expression change, that panic look from earlier slowly returning to his eyes. He carefully slid out of you, leaving you empty and gently resting your weak legs on the bed. You could have sworn you saw a tear escape his eye before he turned away.

"Taehyun, are you okay?"

He embraced you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Tears running from his eyes onto your shoulder.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I really am. I don't know what's wrong with me."

You weren't sure what to do since you had never seen him cry before. So you wrapped your arms around him, caressing his hair as he wept into you. Your heart ached for him.

"Taehyun, there's nothing wrong with you."

You rubbed his bare back, comforting him the best you could. Your fingers softly massaging the scratches you had left.

He placed soft pecks along the bruises on your neck.

"Does it hurt? I didn't want to hurt you."

You let out a soft chuckle.

"A little but... I actually liked it."

Taehyun met his gaze with yours once more, a slightly amused face peaking under his tear ridden cheeks. 

"I didn't know you were so kinky." He teased, relieving some of the tension between the two of you. 

A gentle smile formed on your face as you looked into his entrancing eyes. And there it was. A sparkle of emotion. The longing look you had been, well, longing for. A thousand words were laid out on his sleeve. There was no need for anything more. 

"But seriously though, I'm going to try harder to open up to you, okay? You deserve the best and I want to be that for you." 

You grabbed a hold of Taehyun's face, cupping his cheeks as it was now your turn to wipe some tears off his face. 

"I know."

He leaned down, placing a gentle but heartfelt kiss on your lips. You immediately reciprocated pulling him into a deeper kiss. 

The kiss quickly grew heated once more and it wasn't long before he was pushing himself back into you. Your body shuddered at the overstimulating feeling as he slowly thrusts into you. 

"Tae... fuck.. again?"

You moaned into his mouth, earning a low chuckle from him. 

"Oh baby, I told you I had a lot of making up to do.." He gently wrapped your legs around his waist, sinking his cock deeper into you. "I'm gonna be inside you all night."

*

*

*

I hope you all enjoyed !!

🏷 @zen003xx @storminacloud @stephaniekim15 @eneiyri @luvsoobs @letapostropheesgo @coochiecrawler @dilfjohhny @neozon3nha @moavill97 @bailies-me @julie03 @heartsforheeseung

I apologize if some tags don’t work !! 💓

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | August 26th-September 8th 2024

HAPPY 9-1-1 SEASON 8 PREMIERE MONTH EVERYONE!!

Couldn't post last Monday because of the Ao3 being down, and then I was pretty busy all week preparing for a con I went to this weekend! So you get two weeks worth of fics! And since I've made you wait, I'm posting on Sunday instead of Monday!

Complete

🔥be sweet to me baby by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S7E4: Buck Bothered and Bewildered, PWP | 2K | Explicit): “You’re not replaceable,” Eddie says. “I—I know,” Buck stutters. “Do you?” Eddie asks. “Buck,” he says, low and urgent. His hand curls around Buck’s hip. “Tell me how I can prove it to you.” “I—” Buck chokes out. The silence pulls taut between them. All he wanted, all week, was Eddie’s attention. He has it, now. And he won’t survive it. “Like this?” Eddie asks, and then the hand on Buck’s hip moves, and he’s unzipping Buck’s jeans, and—oh, god. - after the pick-up game, Eddie clears some things up.

let me be your last first kiss by justhockey (Post-S7, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): He can feel his cheeks catching fire as Buck looks up at him with those maddening fucking eyes and impossibly kissable lips. He’s pouting, his bottom lip sticking out slightly in a way that makes Eddie want to lean down and suck it into his mouth - nibble at it until it’s red, and swollen, and tender. Until it’s his. He looks away. He has to. Otherwise he’ll do something stupid - do something reckless. And he’ll put his life on the line for Buck any day of the week, but he won’t risk his heart. He can’t. He wouldn’t survive the breaking.

no others, before thee by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (God!Buck, Established Buddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie wakes up tied to a chair and with blood in his mouth. The funny thing? His captors don't even realise they've made two very, very big mistakes, only one of which is kidnapping him. Because they didn't kidnap a god. They kidnapped a god's husband.

let the bough break, let it come down crashing by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Soulmates AU, Post-S7 | 3K | General): Every person is gifted a soulmate by the universe, the one person who bears a matching Mark to their own - their Fated. There's no guarantee that they will meet this person, but if they are lucky enough to do so, they definitely don't go against the choice the universe has made. Unless you're Evan Buckley, and you decide that instead of a staying happily ever after with a perfectly lovely soulmate, you'd actually prefer to be with the one person who makes your life worth living.

stars in the sky, kisses on your lips by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Getting Together | 3K | General): A night out in the desert. Stars in the sky. And risks to take. Sounds like the perfect opportunity.

Went a Little Like This by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Accidental Kissing | 3K | Teen): Buck kisses Eddie on a random morning. Two problems with this: 1) They are not together 2) They don't realize they've kissed

pining and anticipation (I don't want you like a best friend) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck inadvertently challenges Eddie to try to hit on him by laughing at the fact that the guy has no game. It ends up being the best thing ever.

my wildest of dreams takin' on a new life by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Roommates, PWP | 3K | Explicit): Buck is a little freak that can't stop listening to Eddie touching himself.

Three Strikes and You're Out by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Infidelity | 3K | Teen): Buck's soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend chooses to ignore him every time the kiss cam points in their direction. Eddie does the opposite

Red As Strawberries in Summertime by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): There's a list of groceries written down on a piece of paper, and Buck can't help if he wants to add "kiss Eddie" to it over and over and over again.

will you remember me? by bucksclipboard/ @excuseme-greentea (Amnesia, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): You know the trope: Someone suffers from amnesia and they don’t remember their partner. Well, this is the opposite. Buck doesn’t remember a thing – except that he loves Eddie. How is Eddie supposed to tell him they’re not actually together?

Crazy For You by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): While hanging out watching a baseball game & drinking beer, Eddie shares his honest opinions regarding Buck’s relationship. Four days later, he confronts Buck to find out why he’s been avoiding him since then.

I can fix that by 42hrb/ @exhuastedpigeon (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Mature): “What - what is that?” “What’s what?” Eddie asked, but the smile tugging at his mouth, the smile that was just slightly obscured by the hottest mustache Buck had ever fucking seen, told Buck Eddie knew exactly what he was talking about.

Eddie Diaz: Gay Disaster by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Eddie's worried he might be homophobic, but it turns out he's just in love with his best friend.

on my way to believing by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S7, First Date | 5K | Teen): Buck stood there in the doorway and told Eddie everything. How he felt, how he’d been waiting until the time was right, how he didn’t expect Eddie to feel the same but he just had to put it out there, couldn’t keep this a secret between them. And Eddie might have been surprised at first, but he felt the same. He feels the same. And today, finally, after so long, they’re going on a date. Their first date. His last first date, if Buck has any say in the matter.

And They Were Roommates by eightpackdiaz (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Thanks to the destruction of hotel property and the help of their closest friends and family (and exasperated now-exes), Buck and Eddie finally figure some things out.

whatever you like by clytemnestra/ @clytemnestraaa (Established Buddie, Miscommunication | 6K | Mature): “Is something wrong?” Eddie says. “No! It’s all good. Really, really good." Buck says. "Just, I want it to be good for you too. Like, is this actually what you want, or is this what you think I want?” Eddie frowns. “Is this not what you want?” He says. - Buck and Eddie (not) talking about it.

And You Are Where I Wanna Be by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (First Date | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie find out their first date is slightly more awkward than they thought it would be. Good thing they're both desperately and hopelessly in love with each other.

No One Loves Me Like You by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (S5E18, Love Confessions, Unrequited Love | 7K | Teen): After Hen and Karen's vow renewal, Eddie battles his repression to confess his feelings for Buck. Blindsided, Buck doesn't think he loves Eddie that way and turns him down. They both spiral and things get awkward. Will Buck figure out his feelings before it's too late?

Buck Has a Boyfriend (He Swears) by thedesertpenguin/ @thedesertpenguin (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 7K | Teen): Eddie's fighting again, it's the only explanation. Aka: Eddie’s being secretive and Buck desperately tries to remember he has a boyfriend

you can feel it on the way home by lizzybizzyzzz/ (Crack, Animal Transformation | 7K | Teen): or, after eddie comes in contact with a bundle of magic catnip inside a problematic botánica, he finds himself in the care of his team; can the magic be reversed or will he become firestation 118's new furry mascot? (Part 1 of you are in love)

you can see it with the lights out by lizzybizzyzzz / (Crack, Animal Transformation | 1,7K | General): Buck narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. “Did you smell that stuff on purpose so you wouldn’t be on dish-duty?” Through his second last nectarine slice, Eddie hisses at him. or, eddie is turned into a cat and buck doesn't really know what to do with him, a coda (Part 2 of you are in love)

Sealed With a Kiss by Inell/ @inell (Soulmate AU, Different First Meeting, S1 | 8K | Teen): When Buck goes to the beach to get away from Abby’s empty apartment, he ends up saving a kid from drowning. He isn’t expecting to meet Christopher’s father, Eddie, who also happens to be Buck’s soulmate. 

like a river that doesn't know where it's flowing (i found where i'm going) by oklahoma/ @sunshinediaz (Post-S7, Eddie Coming Out | 10K | Teen): After coming out as gay, finally, Eddie has a well-deserved hot girl summer witnessed by his closest friends and family. Everyone is supportive and encouraging, except for Buck. What could that possibly mean? 

she’ll never get to eat you like your heart's a pomegranate by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Fluff | 10K | General): or, Five Times Buck was the Weird Parent, and One Time Eddie was

Weary Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Buck&Bobby, Post-S7 | 12K | Teen): After an argument about the circumstances of Bobby's sudden retirement, Buck and Bobby each find themselves inexplicably experiencing one of the other's difficult childhood memories.

🔥the tortured poets department by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (Post-S4E14: Survivors, Magic AU | 19K | Explicit): The first time Buck touched him, Eddie blew an ambulance up.

🔥Where there's smoke by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Multiverses | 37K | Teen): His eyelids are heavy. His lungs ache. The smoke is dense and thick, slowly suffocating him. Eddie feels himself drift as Buck’s voice penetrates the smoke, cuts through the fog in his brain. “Eddie, stay with me. Stay with me, Eds.” Eddie wants to stay. He wants to open his eyes and see Buck. He doesn’t want to leave. But he’s so tired, and sleep is calling him. Maybe it will be okay. Maybe his dreams will be sweet. Maybe there’ll be peace, there. And maybe, if he just rests for a little while, he’ll be able to find his way back.

🔥 Long Death by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S7, Vampire AU | 79K | Explicit): In the summer of 2024, a never before seen form of vampirism breaks out in Los Angeles. Just as Eddie is about to get his son back. Six months later, Buck's life is permanently changed.

WIP

🔥 the wayward son by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-S7 Spec, Sex Club | 3/5 | 33K | Explicit): Eddie misses his son, grows a mustache, pines after his best friend, and becomes a regular at a gay sex club. That last part is either an indulgence or an inevitable, somewhat self-destructive conclusion to several decades worth of compulsory heterosexuality and catholic guilt. Don’t ask him which.

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 2/? | 13K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 18/21 | 92K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 135/? | 430K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 6/14 | 26K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Re-Read

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Canon Divergent, Teacher Buck | 4K | Teen): Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @loserdiaz (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

Family Feud: First Responders by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Secret Relationship | 3K | General): The FireFam go on Family Feud.

[wrenreid]

Hands-on Learning

synopsis: Spencer Reid’s best friend pays him a visit in DC. She meets his coworkers and they spend quality time together while she’s in town. But their friendly dynamic changes with he asks her a question she was not expecting. (season 2 glasses reid)

word count: 4k

content: 18+ MDNI, oral (f receive), penetration

Spencer has been begging me to come visit him again since the last time I was in D.C. six months ago. And I won't admit it to him, but I've been dying to see him again so much it physically pains me. Going six months without seeing your best friend is the worst feeling in the world, but I'd take the emotional turmoil any day because it's for him.

And I suppose he's worth sitting on this plane, lodged between a sleeping old woman and a man who has gotten up to pee ten times since take off. I must really love him because I'm only an hour into this five hour flight.

Spencer and I met when we were 18. I'd just started my freshman year at CalTech and was in an advanced class with a bunch of 22 year olds. My eye caught his immediately. He was the only person my age in the lecture hall.

I sat next to him and told him my name. I knew I had to make him my friend because he was the only other freshman in the class.

Or so I thought. I didn't know until a month into our friendship that he was indeed not a freshman, and he was taking the class for fun while he worked on his second PhD. A small part of me hated him that instant, but I had already fallen into the Spencer Reid charm. I couldn't get rid of him, no matter how hard I tried (which was not very hard at all.)

We became close pretty fast. Almost every moment we weren't in separate classes, we were together. I was pretty much his only friend and he was the first person I met in uni, and probably the only one to accept me a hundred percent as I was. Being so far from home was hard, and he made it worth it.

Usually we'd do homework or watch scary movies in his single dorm room, which I totally took advantage of. I'd spend the night with him instead of my over-sharing roommate who thought I needed to know every detail about her and her long relationship with her boyfriend Kyle, specifically the phone sex. TMI.

My other friends would joke about how we were in love, but the truth is, we weren't. Not in that way at least. He was my best friend, and I was his. We were there for every big moment in each other's lives.

Well, not every big moment. Spencer was not invited when I finally lost my virginity during spring break of freshman year. But he was there when the guy I'd hooked up with broke my heart. And he bought me ice cream and told me stupid facts until my lips broke into a smile.

I was there when he got his second and third PhDs far quicker than any graduate student should. And he was there when I graduated with my masters in psychology and cognitive science.

"You're a nerd too," Spencer said, his voice teasing as he bumped my shoulder. "You can admit it now that we're done with this place."

I told him to shut up, but a wide grin was plastered on my face. We'd made it through the highs and lows of college together.

However, that grin was soon replaced with tears. Spencer had gotten a job offer with the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI headquarters in Quantico, Virginia. He was going to the academy, and I was starting my research job. He was going to the east coast, and I was staying in California.

"You're leaving me," I said through tears, knowing me guilt tripping him was wrong. But I needed him to stay.

"I'm leaving California, not you," he said, his eyebrows knit together with worry. I could tell it was eating up at him, but I couldn't stop hating the situation. Losing my best friend was the absolute last thing I wanted.

The day he left, I drove him to the Las Vegas airport after he said goodbye to his mom. I didn't help him get his bags, instead I stood there moping. As I watched my best friend walk away, I realized I needed to be happy for him. He was excited about this opportunity, and my bitchiness was ruining that for him.

It wasn't romantic movie-esk the way I ran after him. It was more of an anxiety filled scene where snot ran down my face as I chased him down. Honestly, I probably looked like a stalker.

"Spencer," I breathed out, looking up at him.

He smiled softly. "I knew you wouldn't let me leave without giving me a proper goodbye," he teased.

I shouldn't have taught him teasing and sarcasm. It's bitten me in the ass so many times.

I wrapped my arms around him, ignoring his comment. My face pressed against his chest as his arms held me close. My eyes were closed and I steadied my breathing. Even though he was going what seemed like a million miles away, he'd always be my best friend.

And that's stayed true even three years later. We've kicked this long distance shit in the ass. Of course, we don't talk as much as we'd like, but we still talk. And whenever he can, he visits me in LA after seeing his mom, or I take a visit to the nation's capital just to see my favorite FBI agent.

——

"Every time I see you, you look different," I say with a chuckle as Spencer helps me get my bags into his guest room.

"Is that a bad thing?" He questions, eyebrows furrowed.

"Take it as you will," I say, plopping down on his couch.

He joins me shortly after. He really does look different. He's gained some weight, changed his style up just a little, his hair is parted at the side almost neatly, and he's finally wearing glasses again. Except these ones are far different from the ones he wore in college. These ones are kind of hot, but I won't tell him that because I can't feed the genius's ego any more.

"So," I say, wiggling my eyebrows. "Tell me about your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," Spencer says, his cheeks already turning pink.

I roll my eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

"Y/n," he warns.

"Fine, fine. Topic for another time. Don't forget, I'm here all week, Dr. Reid," I flash him a grin.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.

"You know you've missed me," I say, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He shakes his head, but a small smile creeps up onto his lips. He's missed me. But rather than admitting that he asks, "What would you like to do tonight?"

"Food. What's the best restaurant in the city?"

"The best or my favorite?" He asks. "Because they're different."

"Your favorite," I request, a soft smile on my face.

Spencer nods. "Alright. I'll let you nap off the plane drowsiness, then we'll have dinner."

The smile on my face grows wider. He knows me so well.

After my way-longer-than-I-intended nap, we get ready for dinner. I don't dress up fancy because Spencer has seen me at my worst, drunk, crying, and throwing up.

That was the one time I've ever seen him drink. I drug him to a party that we both ended up hating. We left early and instead bought our own liquor. He'd just turned 21, and I used that to my advantage.

Spencer and I ended up drunk in his dorm room. Surprisingly, he handled his alcohol much better than I did. I got wasted and threw up in his sink before making it to his toilet to repeat the action. He held my hair back as tears streamed down my face from the burning in my throat. Then, he threw up from the sight of me vomiting. It was not our finest moment.

"Ready to go?" Spencer asks, coming into the restroom where I'm touching up my makeup.

"Sure am, doc."

The dinner is amazing. He catches me up on all things BAU cases before asking me how my promotion has been, which is, in simple words, pretty damn great.

——

"Oh you're not Spencer," says a way too handsome black man as I open the apartment door.

"Nope. I'd like to think I'm prettier," I joke.

"Yes, you are," he flashes me a smile.

The footsteps behind me halt. "Don't even think about it, Morgan," Spencer says, a warning tone present in his voice.

The man in front of me holds his hands up in defense, the charming smile still on his face.

"This is Morgan? You did not describe him this hot," I turn to my best friend.

He glares at me. "You also don't even think about it."

I laugh softly and offer my hand out to Derek.

"Y/n. Nice to finally meet you."

His firm grip shakes my hand. "So you're the competition I have as Reid's best friend."

"In the flesh," I grin. "And it's no competition. I've got years on you."

"Ooh she's bold. I like her," he says.

I haven't had the opportunity to meet all of Spencer's coworkers because of both of our busy schedules and us making sure to spend every second together while I visit. I've met his boss one time and friend JJ. I liked them. I know enough about everyone from Spencer's stories to know that he's in good hands.

"Did you need something?" Spencer asks his friend.

"Oh right. Yeah I was just going to see if you wanted to come out with us, but I see you are occupied," Morgan says, looking to me.

"Go out where?" I ask, not letting Spencer respond.

"Bar. To drink and play games."

"That sounds fun! We'll be there," I say.

Spencer fake coughs behind me, and I turn to my best friend. He gives me a look.

"C'mon, Spence. It'll be fun. I want to get to know your team."

He can't say no to me. "Fine. But let's not stay out too long, okay? You know you can't handle your alcohol."

"Hey, I've grown up since college," I chuckle.

——

“Have you two ever...?" Spencer's gorgeous dark haired friend asks me as she takes a swig from her glass. She cuts her eyes to Spencer, then back to me.

He's currently at the bar with Morgan who's attempting to flirt with the pretty bartender.

"What? No! God no," I laugh, shaking my head.

"Hm," Emily hums. "I just thought I sensed something."

"Nope. He's my best friend. Why mess with that?" I smile softly.

"So you've thought about it?" She's nosy. I can't blame her, I am too.

"No," I answer.

That's the first lie I've told to Spencer's friends. Of course I've thought about it. I don't think anyone has been friends with an attractive person without thinking about what would happen if the relationship dynamic changed. My best friend's kind of hot. I know that. Before we were close, I debated on asking him out. But we're just friends. We're best friends. And nothing is going to change that.

I get to know Spencer's friends a little more, get slightly tipsy, and start a game of darts with Morgan.

After he beats me, not by much I'd like to add, we're just about to start a rematch, but a hand touches my back lightly. I turn around to face Spencer, and a soft smile creeps up onto my lips.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Can we head back? It's getting late," he asks, checking his watch.

I nod, brushing my hair behind my face. "Sure, but tell Morgan I totally could've beaten him in a rematch."

Spencer laughs softly. "She could've," he says to Derek behind me who rolls his dark brown eyes.

"Getting old, doc?" I ask Spencer as we walk to his car. He's 99% sober, so he drives us back to his apartment.

I sit in the passenger's seat, hands folded in my lap. My eyes are on him.

"Hm?"

"Why'd we leave so early?"

"10:30 is when the guys in the bar start getting drunker and handsy. I didn't want you to get dragged into some asshole's grasp while dancing," he explains.

"Oh," I nod. "I can handle myself, you know that right? Just because you're a big federal agent now doesn't mean I need you to protect me." My voice is thorough, but a small smile is on my lips anyway.

"Just returning the favor, Y/n," Spencer says. He knows I protected him all throughout our shared college days.

My cute going-out clothes have begun to get uncomfortable. I unclasp my bra, keeping my somewhat sexy shirt on and slip it off from underneath the blouse, letting it fall to Spencer's floorboard.

"Much better," I breathe out an exasperated sigh.

He's silent in his seat, eyes on the road. I see his hands grip the steering wheel a little harder.

"I missed you a lot," I say honestly. Usually I'm not one to say what I'm feeling or be mushy gushy, but the two shots of tequila have opened me up.

His eyes flick to me, his lips formed in a soft smile. His face is being lit up by the passing cars' headlights. I can see how sharp his cheekbones are, his jawline.  "I thought you were heartless."

"I take back my previous statement."

"I missed you too," Spencer says.

"Of course you did, I'm a delight," I gloat.

The sound of his soft laughter fills the air. It pulls on the strings in my chest.

"How is it possible that I leave in three days already?"

"Shh," he shakes his head, eyes still on the road ahead of him. "Don't mention that right now." Spencer's hand pats my knee before squeezing it comfortingly.

——

"I have a question," Spencer says, coming into his room where I'm currently laying on his bed, reading a book I grabbed off one of his many shelves.

I look up from the page I'm on. He looks nervous, cheeks red, his hands fiddling with themselves.

"Hit me," I say.

He sits down at the edge of the bed. "I don't really know how to ask this... It's a weird question. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and..."

"Spit it out, Spencer,” I eye him.

"Could you... would you tell me how to please someone. Specifically a woman. During sex."

A huffed laugh releases from me, and his cheeks burn redder. I think I'm blushing too. "What?"

"I'm sorry. That was weird. Forget I said-" he starts softly.

"Have you never...?"

Spencer shakes his head.

I didn't really think he had, but I didn't ever expect him to tell me when or if he lost his virginity anyway. He's reserved, even with me with some things.

"Wait," I sit up straighter. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Not my girlfriend," Spencer corrects me. "But yeah. We have a date the night you leave, and I think she's going to expect it. I mean, this is our fourth date."

"Well, if you don't want to have sex, don't have sex," I say sternly.

"It's not that I don't. It's just that I've never done it. I don't know what to do. I've read, and I'm good at anatomy. But what if I'm bad at the physicality of it all?" He presses his lips together, his teeth gnawing on the inside of his bottom lip.

"I don't really know how to explain it," I chuckle nervously. The blood is rushed to my cheeks, they're probably scarlet. "It just kind of happens."

"I shouldn't have asked," Spencer says.

"No, it's just that... like with anything, practice helps people get good sex," I tell him.

He looks up at me, his eyes asking what his lips won't. I feel my heart pounding against my chest, faster than usual.

"Do you want me to... show you?" I ask. He has always preferred hands-on learning.

"Would you?"

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

He moves toward me slowly, hesitantly.

"Kiss me," I tell him, hoping this won't get too weird.

Spencer and I have been best friends for years, we're extremely close, but this may bring us too close. This could ruin everything, but for some reason, I can't stop it.

He presses his lips to mine gently, his hand cupping my face. My eyes flutter closed. I reciprocate the kiss, and it's a lot easier than I imagined. Not that I've entirely imagined it.

My hands trail up his arms slowly. He's gained muscle. I guess that's a part of his FBI agent glow up. His tongue roams my mouth, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how good of a kisser he is.

He pulls away after a few minutes. He's breathing heavy. "Are you sure this is okay?"

I nod, then lean in to kiss him again but he leans back.

"Say it."

"It's okay, Spencer," I tell him. This time he lets me kiss him again.

I lay down, my back against his bed. He hovers above me, his hand on my waist now as he kisses me. He's good at this, and that thought comes to my mind again as his lips suck on my neck.

"Keep doing that," I whine softly.

He obliges and nibbles my skin gently. "Is this okay?" He whispers.

"Mhm," I noise.

I let him take the lead for now, do what he's comfortable with so far. His hand trails up a little further. I tell him he can touch me, and he does, though hesitantly at first. His fingertips graze against my breast before he finally gets comfortable enough to take hold of it through my shirt. He squeezes then pinches my nipple. He knows more than he lead on.

A soft moan releases from my mouth, my back arches just a little. His hand slips beneath my shirt, his warm touch on my belly. Spencer takes ahold of my shirt then lifts it up. I help him take it off me. I'm completely bare hips and above since I wasn't wearing a bra anyway. His eyes widen a little, and he smiles softly.

"Stop staring at me," I laugh a little.

"We're about to have sex and I can't look at you?"

I roll my eyes. "Let's just continue."

Spencer nods. "What do you want me to do?”

"Well, most women like to do other stuff before actually getting into the sex. Penetration alone doesn't do it for most of us," I tell him.

"You included?"

"Me included."

"What do you like?" He asks.

"What are you comfortable with? Do you have any ideas?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "I want to learn how to-I want to give you... oral."

I burst into a laugh. "Spence, never say oral to a woman. Just say head."

"Head. Noted," he nods.

He's adorable when he's nervous and nerdy. Which is pretty much always.

"Kiss me first. Anywhere," I tell him.

He chooses the soft flesh of my stomach. I smile down at him. I reach down, pushing down my shorts, my underwear too. I'm growing needy.

Spencer slips them the rest of the way down and tosses them down to the ground. After slipping off his glasses, he kisses the inside of my thigh. God, I need him to do something right now.

His big hands push my thighs apart. Then he pauses. The clocks in his brain turn.

I feel like he's just about to call this whole thing off, but then I'm hit with a shock of pleasure. His tongue licks in between my folds.

“You’re really wet,” he says, more like an observation that a tease. Then he attacks my clit with his lips after taking a second to find it. Fuck. He definitely knows more about sex than I was led to believe.

Spencer's fingers leave marks on the inside of my thighs as he grips onto them. His lips suck on my clit, tongue flicking back and forth often too.

Soft moans spill from my lips. I'm trying to be quiet. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am.

The sudden shock of Spencer's mouth removing from my clit makes me whine in protest, but his fingers sliding inside me make up for it.

I groan, my head leaning back into the pillows.

“Do you like this?”

I bite my lip, “Mhm. Curl your fingers.”

He does as he’s told.

When Spencer both fingers my cunt and sucks on my clit, I'm a moaning mess. "Holy fuck, Spencer," I whine. My legs are shaking within minutes, and even though he's still sloppy and new at this, my body loves it. My hands grip into his hair.

"Just like that, Spencer. So good."

A loud moan rings out from me as I finish. I couldn't even warn Spencer before my release pours from me.

My breaths are heavy and loud. Spencer pulls away, looking up at my eyes.

"Was that okay?" His breathing is heavy too.

"No," I say. "Spencer that was fucking amazing. You've seriously never done that before?"

He shakes his head.

"Wow."

"Told you, I'm good at anatomy," he smiles bashfully.

"Take your pants off," I command. "I want you inside of me."

I find a condom in my purse as he shrugs his clothes off. I sit up and find myself staring at his bulge with wide eyes. He's bigger than I expected. Not like huge to where it's unnatural, but big enough that I will probably need a minute to adjust once he's in me.

I tell him to lay down, and he does. He's a good boy. I like it.

I help him get the condom on, then swing a leg over his lap so that I'm straddling him. "Are you ready?" I ask him, my hand holding his face gently.

He takes a second, processing that he’s about to lose his virginity. Probably freaking out a lottle that it’s to me. “Yes ma'am," Spencer nods.

"Just a gentlemen," I grin.

I lower myself onto him, and once he's inside me, I do need a minute to adjust. Moans come from both of us, and I love the sounds we make together.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice raspy. He repeats my name over and over as I start to roll my hips.

"Oh my god." My eyes shut, and I bite my lip to keep me quiet.

"Don't do that," Spencer tells me. "I want to hear it."

I give him what he wants. I bounce up and down on him, his length hitting me in the right spot every time.

Both of our sounds fill the room. Spencer holds my hips down, stopping me.

"Wha-?"

"I want to do it," he says softly. "Please."

"Do what you want with me, doctor," I tell him, nodding.

He flips our positions, and he's on top of me. Spencer's lips crash into mine as he enters me again.

I bite his lip, causing both of us to moan into each other's mouths.

Spencer doesn't last much longer since it's his first time, but I don't even mind. He rubs my clit until I come again, and I feel I'm floating.

We lay on his bed, heavy breaths morphing together. "I think you're going to blow her mind, doctor Reid," I chuckle softly.

"Who's?"

"You're girlfriend that's not your girlfriend," I say, eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, right. I don't think I'm going on that date. Okay, actually I canceled that date when you got here."

"What?" I chuckle, confused.

"There's no date,” he says, point blank.

"Did you just trick me into sleeping with you?" My eyebrows are still furrowed, but I'm smiling.

He presses his lips together. "Well, if you put it that way... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. I admire the hustle, doc," I laugh softly, my fingertips circling on his bare chest.

Men and women can be purely platonic friends, no romantic feelings involved. But maybe Spencer and I aren’t that type of friends after all.

tags: @shakespear-picaso-lovechild @kylakins88 @jazzerbelle14 @cynbx @yazzyu @regulus-black-223048 @virginmusicloverr36 @sebs-oxygen @jolotta @booktvmoviefangirl @nevielei @pauline5525mgg @necromaniackat @r3idsp3ncer

[durrtydawg]

Hey queen get better soon 🌟🌟🌟

Since your requests are open, some Sam fluff with just one bed trope pleeeeasee 🤭

Abso-flipping-lutely, babycakes.

I got another anon asking for this, so I hope they find it. I'm sooo sleep deprived, thus might revisit and jazz this up at a later date, but until then, here's one of many takes of the one bed trope <3

Masterlist

One Bed

Sam Drake x Reader {Fluff Req.}

Words: 4k approx | Warnings: Blood mention, weapons mention

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

"Got that stupid coin of yours?"

You watch Sam cock his head at you in confusion whilst you perch on the dresser inside your newly-appointed motel room.

Sam ferrets around his duffel with a frown as he pulls out the time-worn coin he may as well attach to himself surgically at this point.

"Give."

"What are you doing?"

You ignore him, flexing your hand in his direction to encourage him into throwing it over. His brows furrow harder as a curious smile appears on his lips. Intrigued, He tosses you the coin, and you instantly conceal it in your hands.

"Heads or tails?"

"Uh...heads?" Sam shakes his own, not one to rope himself into something without any prior knowledge.  "Hold on. What are we bettin’ on here?"

You flip the coin rather ungracefully, swivelling to catch it to avoid dropping it on the floor.

"Who gets the bed." You cover the coin post-flip, ready to reveal the winner. "And tails always wi..."

You trail off and stare at your palm in silence. Heads. Sam approaches and looks over your shoulder, patting you in commiseration.

"That backfired, huh?" He chuckles, snatching back his coin as he smirks at your defeat.

"Hmm." You retort, a sarcastic smile on your face as you trudge over to the bed and pick up a pillow with a sigh.

"What are you-" he puts his hand out in confusion, watching as you walk away from the bed and over to the bathroom door. “Where are you going with that pillow?"

"Bathtub. I'm sure as hell not sleeping on the floor and listening to you snore."

"The bath- just share the bed! We're adults, aren't we?" Sam lets out a bemused laugh. "And- you know full well- I don't snore."

You raise an accusatory brow, tucking the pillow under your arm. Sam shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air as he walks over to where he’d kicked off his boots.

"I am an adult. Which is exactly why I refuse to share."

"Fine! I will go back to the grumpy old bastard at reception, and ask for a spare room."

You sigh. "Like you, I lack the energy to argue. If letting you have your own bed is what it'll take for you to remove whatever stick has been so uncomfortably jammed up your ass over the past few hours, I'm happy to leave it at that."

He grumbles, stepping back into his boots, too tired to do up the laces. "No- nope. You take it. I am nothing if not a gentleman. Besides, I don't want to hear you complaining for days about a stiff neck, or whatever other little princess injury you'd end up givin' yourself."

He puts the strap of his holdall back over his shoulder with a tired huff, approaching the door, hand resting on the handle. Before he turns it, he speaks once more.

“Anyways, I’ll have you know that I’ve shared a bed with many, many people," he chuckles, more so to himself than to you. "Not a single one of ‘em ever complained about snoring. Or... complained about anything, come to think of it." Sam smirks.

You scoff and roll your eyes at his need to make things crass, putting your hands together as if in prayer.

“Please, tell me more about what you and your dick get up to in your spare time. It’s fascinating.”  

“Alright, alright.” He chuckles, opening the door. “Gotta admit, though,” He continues, looking behind him into the corridor before turning back to you with slightly narrowed eyes. “I really thought we had something good going here, sweetheart. I'm a little hurt you're so against a cozy one-night... cuddle.”

You grin into the pillow as you raise an inquisitive brow. “Oh yeah? Cuddle?” You laugh.

Sam simply looks at you with a smile, practically begging to be goaded further. You clear your throat and straighten your posture, as if you're assuming an act. “Tell me more.” You eventually say, voice muffled as you play along.

You’ve always been a fan of Sam’s… suggestive nature. And he’s always admired your ability to take it on the chin. You two are a match made in heaven.

Or is it more… platonic purgatory?

“Pfft. Of course.” He chuckles, folding his arms with his back leaned up against the door frame. He clears his throat too, putting his hand on his chin in thought. “All those passing glances when we were stuck in that forest…”

You lower the pillow, grin deepening. “Hmm. You must mean my turning to make sure you’ve managed to catch up with me?”

He raises a brow towards you, tongue toying with his teeth. Calculating. “…that sighing you keep doin’ around me...” He looks up to the ceiling in mock thought as you cut in again.

“A sign of my ever-dwindling patience?”

He swats his hand in the air, as if to keep you hushed. “This little back ’n’ forth bickering thing we’ve got goin’.” He clicks his tongue. “Gotta say, it’s a shame you're passin' up such an opportunity as this.” He gestures behind you, over to the bed.

You laugh, nodding. “Hmm. I guess sharing that bed could have us really getting to know each other.”

He gives you a teasing smirk, the mischievous glint in his eyes making your cheeks heat up- something you’ve been unable to help since your first job together. Luckily for the sake of your dignity, the pillow serves as a perfect shield.

Sam pouts, mimicking a kiss. Funny how almost dying leads you to revert back to childish conversation.

“Get out.” You laugh, throwing the pillow at him which he swerves just about as you swivel for the bathroom.

“Alright. I'm goin'. Enjoy your cold, lonely bed.”

“I will!” You chirp from behind the bathroom door, grabbing a towel from the folded pile beside the sink and hanging it beside the shower.

You hear the door close and turn on the shower, giving it a moment to warm up as you take off your mud and sweat-saturated clothes, unable to wipe the smile off of your face.

A fierce sting shoots through your upper leg as you peel off your cargos- upon closer inspection, you notice a tear in the fabric at your outer thigh. And thus, the smile is gone.

You kick them off, and ogle at the long gash along your skin- a sore reminder of the run-in with some somewhat feral bandits you and Sam had dealt with mere hours ago. The blood seems to have dried, effectively sealing the wound, but that’s not to say it doesn’t bite like a bitch.

You’d been wrestled to the ground by a member of the group that had the pair of you under attack, the gentleman in question had a knife in his hand, and your gun had long-been out of ammo. If it wasn’t for Sam’s boot swiftly connecting with your assailant's head, a lengthy cut on the thigh would’ve been the least of your problems.

For anyone else, this event alone would be enough to persuade one to partake in several therapy sessions. But, as is tradition with you two, a quick once-over for lethal injuries and a shaky joke about your uncharacteristic lack of finesse is all it took for to divert you back to the task in hand.

Ultimately, though, Sam did save your life today. You can’t help but think that maybe you should be the one finding somewhere else to sleep.

Or you should’ve just been an adult and let him share.

Shrugging off the soreness of your leg, and the guilt of letting Sam take responsibility for the single bed mishap, you step into the shower, using the entirety of the hotel’s adorably tiny tube of shower gel to scrub away evidence of the day’s toil.

Finished, you wrap yourself in your towel, brushing your teeth twice over before you hear the door open and close.

You cautiously open the door, peeking through the gap to see Sam lounging on the bed, chewing some sort of granola bar whilst he channel surfs through a series of programs that he has no actual interest in. You adjust your posture, relieved, but equally miffed that all you’ve got covering you is a towel- your bag on the other side of the room.

“Yay, he’s back!” You chirp through clenched teeth, hastily scampering over to your backpack which Sam has oh-so-conveniently placed himself right next to.

“No more rooms.” He shrugs, taking another bite as he continues to stare mindlessly at the TV, before taking a pause to inspect the bar’s packaging. “Decent vending machine, though.”

“Just when I thought there was no silver lining.” You smile sarcastically, hurriedly rifling through your bag for the cleanest t-shirt and pair of shorts you can find.

You finally catch his eye and an irksome wolf-whistle accompanies a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. You know it's a harmless joke, but you're growing increasingly more exhausted and, fuck, your leg is really stinging.

“Don't be a pest.”

“What? Hardly leaves much to the imagination.” He smirks to himself, looking back to the TV screen.

You frown, self-consciously tightening your hold on the towel wrapped around you. It’s extremely rare that Sam crosses the boundary between harmless flirtation and being straight up weird.

Unfortunately, the latter is swiftly making an appearance due to the rapid progression of your irritability caused by the pain in your leg.

He clears his throat as he clocks your sudden aversion to the conversation, and you direct your stare back to your bag. Slight unease fills the gap between the foreign TV show crackling in the background and the silence between you both.

"I'm..." He starts quietly, his hand cautiously rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away from you coyly. He sniffs. Anything to fill the silence. Anything to avoid an apology.

You press your hand on your thigh to push yourself back upright, ready to make a dash back to the bathroom to pull yourself together and get dressed. Unfortunately, the desired getaway is trampled on as you stand; you grunt suddenly as you accidentally apply pressure to the gash on your thigh, agitating it, and splitting it enough for it to start bleeding again. Almost instantly a small crimson patch becomes visible on the outside of your towel, and you hiss in annoyance, unwittingly attracting Sam’s attention.

"You good?” He asks almost awkwardly.

"Uh-" you bundle your clothes together, bunching them up around your upper thigh, turning away from Sam to dig your shorts out of your bag all whilst shielding your reddened cheeks from his eye line. "Yep. All good."

He adjusts his posture, swivelling his legs off of the bed as he sits up and narrows his eyes at you. “I smell bullshit here, sweetheart. What are you hiding?”

You screw your face up a little, debating whether to tell him or not, cheeks warming even more due to your flustered nature and the sudden protective softness of his tone… yay. Insult, meet injury. 

You eventually grumble in defeat, knuckles tightening more around the twist in the towel by your chest as you return to the bathroom, angling the door for the sake of modesty. “You're not gonna leave this alone are you?" Your voice is muffled by your t-shirt as you shimmy out of the towel and slide it over your head. You step into your shorts with another wince as the fabric grazes the wound.

"Nope." He pops the ‘P’, arms folded as he stands, crumpling the wrapper of the granola bar thing in his hand as he chews on the last bite.

You sigh, slowly stepping back out of the bathroom, the material pulled aside to reveal the long, but fortunately not perilously deep nick, decorating your upper leg with a steadily dribbling stream of blood. Sam’s brows raise, and he freezes mid-chew, giving you an almost chastising glare which makes you instantly jump on the defence.

"Don't- look- It's fine. I'm fine."

“Bleeding pretty damn bad to be ‘fine’, if you ask me.” He swallows, as you scramble through your kit for first aid supplies. “When did that happen?"

You sigh, hating the fuss. "When do you think it happened?" You say, finding the small box of medical supplies stuffed amongst the rest of your belongings and quickly taking a seat on the end of the bed. You take out the things you need, saturating a cotton pad with a cleansing solution as you feel that horrible tension once more.

Sam double takes at you as he walks past you to dispose of his wrapper. "Oh, right. The guy with the knife that 'didn't touch you'?"

"I'm a good liar, Samuel, what can I say- ow!" You hiss as you dab cleansing solution over the wound.

Your hands tremble.

There’s always been something about fixing your own wounds that’s much more of a challenge than managing someone else’s.

"Well… at least now, you can feel less guilty about giving him a severe concussion." 

He shrugs as he rinses off his hands in the bathroom sink before walking back over to you.

You try again, cheeks practically burning by now as you feel Sam’s scrutinising gaze fall over you. You daren’t look up- you presume his eyes are either going to be riddled with judgement or some sort of patronising sympathy- neither an option you care for. You hold your breath, dabbing the saturated cotton wool back against the worst part of the gash, but you grunt just a little too uncomfortably for Sam to stay silent for much longer.

“Alright- give me that.” He steps towards you, extending a hand to the first aid kit, which you let him take with a huff.

Sam kneels in front of you, carefully bracing a hand on your thigh whilst the other takes the cotton wool out of your shaky hand. He begins using the clean side to prevent a dribble of blood from hitting the sheets beneath you whilst he inspects the injury.

"It's only a flesh wound...so…" He says, almost as if he’s reassuring himself about something. You wait curiously as he gets out the remainder of your anti-bacterial solution and some more cotton wool from the small first aid kit, leaving the dirty cotton pad on the floor. 

The end of his sentence never comes. 

The sudden cold sting as he gently dabs at the sore gash on your thigh sends your hands instinctively grabbing at Sam’s forearm with another hiss, causing him to look at you with concern. There’s something else underlying the concern though. Not quite anger, but… he’s definitely vexed.

Sam's fingers are gentle, and you can't help but appreciate the care he’s taking, even if there seems to be a slight discomfort to the silence. He wraps some gauze over the wound before unravelling the last of the roll of bandage, hesitating for a moment. 

He stays silent, and you frown as you watch a series of undecipherable expressions fall over him as he stares at your thigh, almost as if he’s daydreaming.

“Hey.” You gently nudge his chest with your knee, tilting your head down to bring him back to earth as he fiddles with the bandage. “What’s… going on up here?” You cautiously smile, tapping the spot between his eyebrows. 

Sam’s eyes finally meet yours, and you feel your stomach drop a little as his stern expression doesn’t fade remotely.

He takes you in, eyes grazing over every part of your face; eyes, nose, cheeks, lips.

Then, with a speck of what you can only decipher as shame in his eyes, his stare snaps back to your leg.

"I…could’a lost you today."

His voice is low and sincere. So much so that it makes it hard for you to look at him. Serious moments between the two of you are few and far between- you’ve never really learned how to navigate them.

“It’s…just my leg. I’m okay.” You reply quietly, trying to keep the soft smile on your face.

“Could’ve been your throat.” He says, brows still knitted together, eyes flitting down to the bandage in his hands. “Should’ve got to you sooner.”

You frown.

“Why do you think I’m so incapable of holding my own?” You ask, almost taken aback by his sudden shift in tone, your fists grabbing the sheets in an attempt to alleviate the sharp sting from your wound still.

“What?” He scoffs, still concentrating on your leg as he begins to wrap the bandage over your skin. “I don’t think you’re incapable?”

“So why say that?” You ask, curiosity lilting your words.

His eyes are sympathetic for a moment, before they reinstate themselves with a hint of determination. "I think you’re more capable than me most days, ya know. Lift.” He instructs you to raise your leg so he can bring the bandage underneath, but his comment is far from lost by you. He stops speaking again, but it’s clear there’s something he wants to say. 

“You don’t need to keep things from me.” you say, and Sam does a little huff to himself as he continues securing the bandage. Not good enough.

“Sam,” You urge, resting your hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to give you every ounce of his attention as you tilt him up to you. “You’re acting off all of a sudden. Talk to me.”

He’s hard to read for a moment, before he sighs and almost leans into your hands.

“With each run-in we’ve had over the past… two- three years, I feel like I’m becoming more and more scared about you-”

You let go of him, leaning back slightly. “So I am incapable.”

“Jesus- no! Let me speak.” He retorts, tightening the knot on the bandage before tucking it away. You sigh and shift back, pulling yourself fully onto the bed and patting the spot beside you to beckon him to sit too.

He stands, moving the first aid kit onto the floor before sitting, almost reluctantly, beside you on the bed.

Sam lays his head back against the headboard, folding his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to deduce his thoughts. “I’m already on thin ice here. I’m trying not to come across as some kinda-”

“Oh my god, spit it out.” You push, turning onto your side to look at him fully as he stares up to the ceiling, laughing a little at your sudden, but warranted impatience.

“I want to work with you. All the damn time. That’s pretty obvious, right?” He finally turns his head down to you, and you narrow your eyes slightly as you await whatever he’s about to say next. “Every time you get… hurt. No matter how stupid the injury, I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault. Like it’s my responsibility to…fuck, I don’t know.”

He gnaws at his lower lip, eyes suddenly struggling to stay in line with your own.

"I've... I've never felt- never had this... intrinsic need to be so protective over somebody, and I- ” Sam admits, his voice low and with an unsteadiness that makes your arm hairs stand on end. “Look. I know I make it difficult to know where we stand, sometimes. You n’me. I step over the line. N'I don't like making you feel... uncomfortable- inadequate, whatever-”

You stare at your bandaged leg, momentarily lost for words.

"Just- I don't know. Watching that guy on top'a you? The fear I felt-"

It’s fair to say that his… vulnerability strikes a chord deep within you- and you’re both acutely aware of the ever-festering bond the two of you have. Friendship scales tipped just off centre.

“I care about you.”

Suddenly, they’re erring on losing balance entirely.

You prop yourself up a little more. “Yeah, I know you do-”

“No- I- I really care."

He stares at his hands, eyes narrowed, almost as if he’s afraid to look in your direction.

You want to respond. To tell him that you understand, but the words don't come. The few seconds of silence feel like hours. It’s so thick you think you’re going to choke.

Sam clears his throat, poorly trying to mask his discomfort. "I'm gonna... take a shower. Need to clear my head." He stands up abruptly, almost knocking over the first aid kit in his haste.

You nod, giving him space. "Okay," you whisper, watching as he disappears into the bathroom. The muffled sound of running water fills the room, and you lie back, staring at the ceiling.

The day's events replay in your mind, mingling with Sam's emotional fluctuations. It feels like a weird turning point, a moment where a bunch of things are hanging in the balance- ready to do a 180° turn any moment. They just need a catalyst.

As the minutes tick by, exhaustion starts to creep in, mellowing the nervous pinch in your stomach. You close your eyes, letting the steady hum of the shower lull you into a light sleep. When you hear the bathroom door open again, you stir, blinking sleepily as Sam re-enters the room, steam billowing out from behind him.

He glances at you briefly before making his way to the bed, his movements cautious, almost hesitant.

He looks at you, a soft expression on his face as he stops towel-drying his hair, his free hand fiddling with the drawstring of his shorts.

"You sleepin’?”

"Not quite."

"Good," he says, grabbing the free pillow and tossing it to the ground, resting his damp towel flat beside it.. "Didn’t want to wake you."

“You- you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, well the tub’s too small so-”

“Sam.” You say, a tired rasp dulling down the sternness.

Sam pauses, his eyes flickering between your body and the floor, the moonlight filtering through the thin curtains softly illuminating his conflicted expression.

He’s rarely ever this hesitant. Usually, he’s full of confidence, even arrogance at times, but now… now he seems almost timid.

“Y’sure?” he asks quietly, the question barely more than a whisper.

You nod, patting the empty space beside you.

With a deep breath, he finally relents, sitting down on the edge with a cautiousness that makes your heart ache a little.

You watch as he carefully gets into bed, staying on top of the blankets and purposefully facing away from you. The distance feels unnecessary, almost painful. So you reach out, your fingers brushing against his upper arm.

“Hey.”

He turns slightly, looking over his shoulder at you. "Yeah?"

"I get it."

You don’t say anything else- you just shift closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but it conveys everything you’re feeling. I care about you, too.

His skin is warm and smells faintly of soap, and you nuzzle your face into his upper back, only hoping he feels the same comfort that you do.

He tenses- just for a split second before he exhales, body relaxing.

Neither of you speak; You tuck your face deeper into his back, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull you further away from the day.

As you fall asleep, with a gentle yet deliberate motion, Sam finds your hand, his fingers threading through yours. He brings your arm around his waist, holding your hand tightly against his chest.

His thumb softly strokes the back of your hand, a soothing, repetitive motion that makes your heart swell.

"Thank you."

He shifts slightly, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your sore knuckles.

Any more words can wait ‘til morning.

[amethystarachnid]

Hi! Its me again I had another found family troupe in mind if your up for it! I wanted to ask before the Christmas prompts started.

So this time I was thinking Deadpool x Teen!Male!Reader where reader is on top of a building, how he got there is up to you, but he's abt to make a bad decision (if ykw I mean) when dead pool finds him and starts to talk, and basically they end up making a deal, if wade can make the reader see how good life is then he won't do it, but if he fails the reader can go back, and basically its is a bunch of fun stupid shit for the rest and the reader becomes apart of the little odd family created in dead pool 3 (including logan) and decides to stick around. So heavy angst that's solved in a nice fluff, and if your not comfortable with the first part you can change the angst to a different scenario you totally can, and the how and why is up to you.

Readers personality is a sarcastic, cold teen, but he's caring and weird around ppl he's close to, he hides his emotions to keep himself safe

If you can do this I would be so so grateful, if not its totally understandable, I love your work sm its hard not to request things, keep up the amazing writing! Have a good day/night!

OPERATION MAKE YOU NOT HATE THE UNIVERSE

⤷ WADE WILSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Wade Wilson x male!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: platonic!, angst, tiny bit of fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): This story deals with sensitive themes, including mental health struggles and suicide

ᯓ★ I'm happy that you like my works and don't worry, you can make as may requests as you want, I'm so happy when people make requests! <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The city sprawls below, twinkling and vast, but strangely quiet from this height. You sit on the edge of a skyscraper, your legs dangling into the nothingness, with only the hum of distant cars and neon lights bleeding through the foggy air.

You take a deep breath, the cold biting into your lungs. It makes sense, somehow, for this place to be the last thing you’d see. Who knows how long you’ve been sitting here, trying to drum up the courage or the anger or whatever it’s going to take to finally just let go. But the emptiness is louder than any fear. The world feels like it’s swallowed you whole, and this—you dangling on the edge—feels like the only time you’ve ever been able to look it in the face.

“You know, most people pick roller coasters or a fifth of tequila if they wanna feel a thrill.”

You flinch. Not from surprise—well, okay, a little from surprise—but more from sheer irritation. This is the moment someone decides to intrude? You glance over your shoulder and see him. He’s wearing red and black, looking like a deranged SWAT team dropout, leaning casually against the roof access door, arms crossed like he’s watching a really boring episode of a soap opera.

“And here I thought I had the whole roof to myself,” you say dryly, hiding your unease. “Guess we’re all just having a rooftop party.”

“Lucky for you, kiddo, I’m the life of the party. Deadpool, at your service,” he says with a bow. “But hey, what’s a young guy like you doing up here all alone? Besides reenacting all the worst Lifetime movies?”

You snort, because it’s exactly that bad. “Oh, just figured I’d enjoy the view,” you reply, deadpan. “And maybe gravity. Seems like a good combo.”

“Right, right, makes sense,” he nods, as if he’s in on some cosmic joke only you get. He crouches down, edging a little closer. “Let me guess. Someone pissed you off, the world sucks, you hate your life, blah blah blah, and now you’re about to end it all. Am I close?”

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes and stare back out at the city. But something in the fact that he said it—that he got it so easily—makes you feel strange. Seen.

“Oh, man, nailed it!” Deadpool cheers, like this is some sort of accomplishment. “See, I’m like a therapist, but with 90% more leather and 100% more explosions. And, I make house calls. You’re welcome.”

“Yeah? Where’s the PhD?” You give him a sidelong look, unimpressed. “Bet it’s in the mail.”

He gasps theatrically. “Excuse me, my online course was very thorough, thank you. You’re looking at a fully certified therapist-slash-savior-slash-pizza connoisseur.” He steps even closer, as if he’s trying to get a read on you. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to, I dunno…step back from the edge, champ?”

The question catches you off guard, but you school your expression back into that empty, unreadable mask. “Nothing,” you say. “Don’t need saving.”

“Aw, sure you do. Everybody does,” Deadpool replies, with a smile that’s a little too wide. He’s still in that crouch, head tilted like he’s studying a lab rat. “C’mon, take me up on my deal.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” you mutter.

“Well, that’s about to change, Mr. Antisocial.” Deadpool leans in, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I’ll make you a bet. If I can’t show you something worth sticking around for, something that doesn’t totally suck, you win. But if I can—and oh, I will—then you gotta promise not to do anything stupid up here. No ‘jumping’ and no ‘leaping gracefully off into the night’—not on my watch. Deal?”

You look at him, trying to figure out if he’s serious. But then, you’re not sure this guy even knows what serious means. A smirk slips onto your face, mostly from disbelief. “And if you fail, I get to come back here and do what I want.”

Deadpool slaps his hands together, eyes lighting up like he’s just scored a jackpot. “Deal! Signed, sealed, and delivered. What’s your name, by the way? So I know what to call you when I start ‘Operation Make You Not Hate the Universe.’”

“None of your business.”

“Oh, that’s not gonna work,” he replies breezily. “I’ll call you...” He pauses dramatically, finger tapping his chin. “Shadow Kid. Because of your gloomy vibes. Or Edgy McBroodface. Either one works for me.”

You sigh, exasperated. “Fine. It’s Y/n. Happy?”

He claps his hands like a kid on Christmas. “Delighted! Well, Y/n, pack your bags because you’re about to take the Deadpool Tour de Joy. First stop: that little bakery down the street that makes these empanadas that are just to die for—pun very intended.”

As ridiculous as he sounds, something inside you—against all odds—doesn’t completely hate this idea. Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s wrong, but at least he’s distracting you. And it’s better than the silence. So you sigh, push yourself back from the edge, and follow him, if only because he’s made it impossible not to.

“Don’t get too excited,” you warn, hiding a hint of curiosity beneath a mask of sarcasm. “I don’t like pastries.”

“Don’t worry, kid, you will,” he grins, guiding you off the ledge. “Deadpool guarantees it. Or I’ll give you a full refund. You know, after we make sure you don’t end up sidewalk art.”

It’s midnight, and you’re trailing behind a lunatic in red and black spandex as he skips down the street like he’s leading a parade of one. You almost regret stepping away from the edge of that building. Almost. Because, despite everything, Deadpool’s got your attention, even if it’s just so you can see where this trainwreck of a night is headed.

“Now, Y/n,” he says, spinning around to face you while walking backward, “it’s time I introduce you to my squad. My inner circle. The people who either love me or have given up trying to kill me. I figured, what better way to kick off Operation: Don’t Be A Self-Destructive Edgelord than some quality time with family?”

“Your ‘family’?” You raise an eyebrow, skeptical.

“Oh, yes. They’re the most dysfunctional group of weirdos you’ll ever meet, which, in our line of work, is high praise.” He turns back around, leading you down a couple of twisting alleyways until you’re standing in front of a building that looks like it was abandoned about a hundred years ago.

“Home, sweet home!” Wade announces proudly, shoving the door open. “Well, it’s not really mine, but Al’s not much of a decorator anyway.”

You’re about to ask who “Al” is when you spot her: a short, older woman with oversized sunglasses, leaning against a sofa, flipping through a Braille magazine. She doesn’t even look up when she addresses Deadpool.

“You brought home another stray, Wade? You’d think you were trying to start an orphanage for misfits,” she mutters.

“This one’s special, Al. Meet Y/n,” Wade says, guiding you inside. “Y/n, this is the one and only Blind Al. She’s my friend, roommate, therapist, probation officer, and part-time parole board.”

Al snorts. “You think I’d live with Wade if I had any other options?”

You almost smirk. “So you’re telling me he’s like this all the time?”

Al nods, and you catch the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. “Constantly. And unfortunately, you’ll get used to it.”

“Come on, Al, don’t ruin the surprise! I’m a blast to be around,” Wade says, slapping you on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. “Anyway, I promised Y/n the Deadpool Experience™, which includes only the finest influences and biggest badasses on the market.”

“Speaking of badasses…” Wade nudges you, gesturing to the kitchen doorway, where a tall, grizzled man in flannel and jeans leans against the frame, arms crossed. His eyes are hard, the kind that say he’s seen more than his fair share of horror, but he’s giving you a look that’s somewhere between curiosity and caution.

“Logan, meet Y/n,” Wade says, pushing you forward. “Y/n, meet Wolverine, aka Logan Howlett, aka the surliest Canadian this side of the Rockies. Logan, Y/n here’s having a tough time deciding if life’s worth sticking around for, so I figured you could help me convince him otherwise. Since you’re all about that whole ‘living through endless suffering’ thing.”

Logan looks you over, clearly unimpressed with Wade’s choice of words. “You tell this kid what he was getting into by sticking with you?” he grumbles, giving Wade a side-eye.

“Why spoil the fun?” Wade chirps. “Besides, I figured I’d ease him into the nightmare that is my lifestyle by introducing him to you first. It’s all part of my master plan.”

You scoff. “Not exactly a plan so far.”

Logan grunts, shooting Wade a look. “Kid, if you’re here, you better be ready to put up with more crap than you signed up for. And if you don’t, well, don’t expect us to sugarcoat it.”

“Gee, thanks, Logan. Great pep talk,” Wade says, clapping his hands together. “You’re practically the Canadian Dr. Phil.”

“Whatever,” Logan mutters, giving you a short nod of acknowledgment. “Stay out of trouble, kid.”

“Thanks,” you reply dryly. “I’ll make a note of it.”

Wade flashes a grin. “All right, now that we’ve got the somber stuff out of the way, it’s time to meet my real pride and joy. Follow me, Y/n.” He leads you down a narrow hallway, barely glancing back as he goes. “And here, in the third and definitely not cleanest room on the left, is the Mini Wolverine herself, Laura Kinney!”

You peer around the doorframe, and sure enough, there’s a young girl, no older than you, sharpening a knife with an intensity that could probably slice through steel. She looks up, one eyebrow raised as she sizes you up.

“So…another of Wade’s recruits?” she asks, her tone half-sarcastic but half-genuine, like she’s as surprised as anyone to find herself among this crowd.

“Not exactly,” you reply. “Apparently, I’m part of some…life-affirming experiment?”

Laura smirks. “Good luck. Most people just end up scarred. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, mini-me,” Wade says, swooping in to ruffle her hair, which she swats at with the speed of a ninja. “Y/n, Laura here is what we call a ‘clone’—same rage issues, same claws, same immunity to hugs as Mr. Broodmaster in the kitchen. Laura, Y/n here is testing out the Wade Wilson School of Life Choices.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Well, better you than me. Good luck.”

“Look at that, Y/n! She’s already rooting for you,” Wade says, pulling you back out of the room before you can reply.

“Sure,” you mutter. “I feel like I’m one big science project.”

“Nah, science projects are boring,” Wade says cheerfully. “And last, but certainly not least, the crown jewel of this ridiculous ensemble is… Peter!”

You frown, confused, as Wade leads you to the living room, where a man with glasses and a receding hairline is lounging on the couch, a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other. He looks up and waves at you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey there. I’m Peter,” he says. “No code name, no special abilities, just…Peter.”

You raise an eyebrow at Wade. “How does he fit in?”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” Wade says matter-of-factly. “He’s just a genuinely good guy. The one, non-superpowered person who got tangled up in my dumpster fire of a life and didn’t immediately bail. I figured he’d be a nice balance to all the violent murderers in the room. Plus, he makes a mean ham and cheese sandwich.”

Peter shrugs, giving you a friendly smile. “Sometimes, it’s good to have at least one guy who knows what life’s like for the average person. And I figure, if Wade can make it, maybe there’s hope for all of us, right?”

You nod slowly, unsure what to make of all this but also, maybe for the first time in a long time, feeling something close to warmth. These people are rough around the edges, sure, but there’s an understanding in the way they look at you—like they know what it’s like to have the world chew you up and spit you out.

“Well, Y/n,” Wade says, clapping his hands together, “you’ve met the gang. Now, how about that empanada?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fine,” you mutter. “One empanada. But if it sucks, this deal’s off.”

Wade grins. “Deal! And hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll even get a side of wisdom and life lessons from our merry band of misfits. Consider this step one on the path to…not hating everything.”

He leads the way, Peter and Al in tow, while Logan and Laura hang back a bit. And as you walk down the dimly lit street, surrounded by this unlikely crew, you realize maybe—just maybe—Wade might actually have a point.

The morning sun drips through the dirty windows of Blind Al’s apartment, casting a pale yellow glow over the chaotic mess of takeout boxes, weapon cases, and torn-up furniture. You’re sprawled on an old, threadbare armchair, an empanada wrapper stuck to your shirt from last night’s “Deadpool Tour de Joy.” You’d made it through an entire night with Wade and his crew of insane, sarcastic maniacs—and, against all odds, it wasn’t completely awful. In fact, you’d felt something almost like…belonging.

But now it’s the next day, and you’ve already told yourself a hundred times that you should probably just slip out, go back to what you were doing, forget all of this ever happened. You’re starting to push yourself up when Wade barges into the room, wearing his costume but missing the mask, eyes bleary, and looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

“Ah! Sleeping beauty rises!” Wade yells, startling you. “Figured you’d skipped out by now, but no! Y/n, my little suicidal protégé, how’s life on the wild side?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s early. Can you not yell?”

“Oh, no-no-no, kid, this is normal volume,” Wade replies with a grin. “Wait ‘til Logan shows up and starts shouting at me. Speaking of which…”

Right on cue, Logan comes around the corner, his expression twisted in irritation. “Wade, it’s nine in the damn morning, why are you already so loud?”

“Why are you such a ray of sunshine?” Wade replies cheerfully, barely dodging Logan’s hand as he tries to grab him.

“Because you’re annoying,” Logan growls, rolling his eyes and making for the coffee pot. But Wade is already blocking him, a mug in one hand, smirking.

“What if I told you there was no coffee left? Would you kill me?”

Logan raises an eyebrow, as if daring him to repeat it. Without a word, he pops out his claws, a metallic snikt slicing through the silence.

“Oh, I’m shaking!” Wade sneers, clearly egging him on.

“Deadpool, just get out of my way.” Logan tries to push past, but Wade laughs, making some obnoxious buzzing noise that apparently does the trick, because Logan grits his teeth and stabs him, right through the side.

You jump, stunned, watching as Logan’s claws slip back out, leaving Wade clutching his side. Blood pours out of the wound, and you’re about to call out when you realize that Wade’s grinning.

“Oh, there it is,” Wade says, inspecting the hole in his side, barely even phased. “You got me good, Wolvie. Was hoping you’d go for the chest, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“What the hell?” You can’t help but gape at him. “You’re bleeding, and you’re laughing?”

Wade winks, dropping his hand and letting you see that the wound is…healing. Muscles and tissue knit themselves back together, as if he hadn’t been stabbed at all. “Oh, yeah! Y/n, I forgot to mention one of my best features: I’m unkillable! Like an annoying houseplant that refuses to die. Cool, right?”

You blink, still trying to process. “So…no matter what happens to you, you just…keep coming back?”

“Yup! Think of it like this,” Wade says, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the sticky blood on his suit. “I am the miracle of human resilience, cranked up to eleven. Plus, I give Logan a stress outlet every morning. Win-win, really.”

“Wouldn’t call it a win,” Logan mutters, pouring his coffee. “If anything, you’re my worst nightmare.”

Wade smirks, turning to you. “Logan here’s my best friend. Don’t let him fool you.”

Logan takes a long, deliberate sip of his coffee, glaring over the rim. “One more word, Wade, and I’ll make it two stabs.”

“Oh, two stabs?” Wade clutches his chest dramatically. “Why, Mr. Howlett, you really know how to flatter a guy.”

“Honestly,” you mutter, looking at them, “this is the weirdest friendship I’ve ever seen.”

Logan glances over at you, grumbling, “It’s not a friendship. It’s a…complicated arrangement.”

Wade beams, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulder, which Logan promptly shrugs off. “Call it whatever you want, sweetie.”

As they bicker, Laura enters the room, unfazed by the chaos. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment before grabbing a seat at the table, watching the two men as if this is just another morning.

“Y/n, how’s Wade treating you?” she asks, a smirk forming on her face.

You can’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Oh, it’s just been fantastic. Nothing like witnessing multiple acts of violence before breakfast.”

She grins. “Get used to it. That’s pretty much every day around here.”

“Hey, I call it ‘combat therapy,’” Wade retorts, tossing her a wink. “You know, bonding time for the soul. Plus, Logan secretly loves it.”

You’re still processing all of this when Peter comes in, looking almost suspiciously normal, like a PTA dad in a nightmare of superheroes and chaos. He gives you a friendly wave, balancing a bag of bagels and a coffee tray.

“Morning, everyone!” Peter says, the only cheerful voice in the room. “Brought bagels for you all. Thought maybe today we could take it easy and just…you know, be normal for a while?”

Wade gasps. “Normal? Peter, buddy, you’re really asking a lot of me.”

“Don’t mind him, Peter,” you mutter, taking a bagel. “I think I’m the only sane one here.”

Peter gives you a sympathetic look. “I figured as much. Good luck with this crew, Y/n. If you ever need a sane friend, I’m your guy.”

Laura scoffs. “He doesn’t want ‘sane’ friends. If he did, he’d have run by now.”

You can’t argue with that. In fact, the thought does cross your mind—why didn’t you leave? But before you can dwell on it too long, Wade claps his hands.

“Today’s adventure awaits!” he announces, eyes alight with his usual chaotic energy. “We’ll start with breakfast and then…well, I’m not sure yet, but it’ll be something awesome.”

The group groans as Wade grabs his mask and heads for the door, beckoning for you to follow. Logan sighs, Laura grabs her knives, and Peter just looks resigned. But they all follow, like it’s a ritual they’re somehow tied to, and after a moment, you find yourself tagging along too.

The day is filled with antics. You lose track of the times Wade gets hurt, only to heal right in front of your eyes. Logan mutters that he’d be better off without Wade, only to punch him in the shoulder five minutes later with a hidden grin. Laura challenges Wade to a knife fight, and Peter just sighs, trying to keep everyone in line. And for the first time in…who knows how long, you’re laughing. Really laughing.

It’s almost night by the time you head back, the sky darkening as the city lights flicker on. You’re about to part ways and make your way home, but somehow, your feet keep taking you back to Al’s apartment. You know you don’t belong here, not really, but when you reach the door, there’s that same warmth—a strange pull you can’t ignore.

Wade notices you hesitate by the door and grins. “Aw, he’s back! See, I told you I’d be your favorite person in no time.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” you mutter, but you don’t turn to leave. Logan, Laura, Peter, and Al all glance at you, each with a look of welcome that they probably wouldn’t admit to feeling. It’s an odd sight, this bunch of misfits, but in some way, you realize that maybe they’re not as much of a mess as they seem. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve found something here that doesn’t completely suck.

“All right, all right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Wade says, breaking the silence. “Y/n, welcome back to Dysfunctional Central. We’re going to make you regret every second.”

You roll your eyes but smirk, stepping back inside and letting the door click shut behind you. Because this time, you don’t mind sticking around.

As night settles in over Blind Al’s apartment, the usual chaos of the group fades. Laura’s busy sharpening a blade on the couch, Logan’s nursing a beer in the corner, Peter is cleaning up the disaster of takeout containers from earlier, and Al is sitting near the window, her face turned toward the cool night breeze drifting in. Wade, in his typical way, is chattering aimlessly about everything and nothing at all, flipping between mocking TV commercials and talking up his latest “brilliant” idea for a reality show. And, as usual, you’re mostly tuning him out, feeling a mix of exhaustion and…something else. Something that’s starting to feel suspiciously like relief.

Wade breaks off suddenly, his head cocked as he glances over at you with a curious look. “So, Y/n,” he begins, his voice dropping a few notches in volume—a rarity. “How’s our little…adventure going? You feelin’ the spark of life yet? The whole, ‘maybe being alive doesn’t completely suck’ kinda thing?”

You shrug, fidgeting with the edge of your jacket. “I mean, it’s…been okay. You guys are insane, obviously, but it’s not the worst.”

Wade grins. “Insane and proud, baby. It’s kind of our brand. But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little act.” He leans in, dropping his voice even lower. “You’re good at the sarcasm, the deadpan thing. But I can see the cracks, kid. What’s under there?”

You freeze, not sure how to answer. Part of you wants to laugh it off, throw a sarcastic line his way, but something about the way Wade’s looking at you, uncharacteristically sincere, throws you off guard.

“Why’re you asking?” you mutter, looking away.

He shrugs, casual but not unkind. “Because, believe it or not, I give a damn. And because if I’m gonna help you out of whatever pit you’ve fallen into, I need to know where to start. So…give me the lowdown. What’s so bad it made you wanna bail on this whole rodeo?”

You swallow, throat tight. The last thing you want is to spill everything, to lay out every messy thought and feeling. But the words are there, just behind your teeth, begging to be let out after you’ve kept them buried for so long.

“It’s…” You hesitate, searching for the right words. “It’s not one thing, okay? It’s like…everything.”

Wade’s eyes don’t leave yours, an unspoken encouragement in his gaze.

You take a breath, still unsure, but the dam is cracking, and suddenly the words are pouring out before you can stop them. “I don’t know, Wade. I just—I feel like I don’t fit. Anywhere. I’ve tried, I really have, but no matter what I do, it’s like I’m some kind of outsider. The kid who’s always…wrong. Like I don’t belong in my own life. And the more I tried to fit in, the harder it got.”

Wade nods, not interrupting, just letting you talk.

“School was a nightmare,” you continue, voice barely above a whisper. “People either ignored me or treated me like I was invisible. Even my own family doesn’t seem to get me. I just…there’s no place for me. No one who actually cares, and it’s been that way for so long that I can’t remember a time it wasn’t. And I know you’re supposed to push through or whatever, but I just got so tired, Wade. Tired of always feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. Tired of being…me.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice. “Everywhere I look, it’s like people have these lives, friends, family, things that give them a reason to wake up. But me? I don’t have anything, not really. So I started wondering…if I just disappeared, would anyone even notice? Would anyone care?”

Wade is quiet, watching you with an expression you can’t quite place. It’s not pity—thankfully, you don’t think you could stand that—but something softer, gentler.

“That’s why I went up there last night,” you admit, surprised by the honesty in your own voice. “Because I couldn’t stand the emptiness anymore. I thought maybe if I just…ended it, at least it would stop hurting, you know?”

There’s silence in the room now, even the usual background noise faded to nothing. You can feel the weight of your own words, a relief but also a vulnerability that makes you want to crawl out of your own skin.

After a moment, Wade shifts, sitting down next to you. “Hey, kid,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I know that feeling. I know it all too well.”

You glance at him, surprised. “You? You seem like you’ve got everything figured out.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, kid. I may be the king of talking big, but I’ve been where you are. Hell, I’ve been to worse places. You think I’m here just ‘cause life handed me everything I wanted? Nope. I got scars, inside and out, that’d make your head spin. And you know what? That ‘don’t belong’ feeling? I had that too.”

Wade pauses, running a hand over his mask, which he’s bunched up in his hands. “I used to think…if I could just disappear, maybe that would be the best thing for everyone. And that was before I became…this.” He gestures to his scarred skin, his voice low but steady. “When you look like this, people either turn away or look at you like you’re some kind of monster. It was…lonely. Really, really lonely.”

You swallow, something in his words hitting close to home. “So what changed?”

Wade smiles, a bit of his usual spark returning. “Well, I guess I just got stubborn. Figured if the world didn’t want me, then I’d make my own place. Found people—well, like the circus act you met last night. Turns out, sometimes family’s not about blood. It’s about…finding people who see the worst parts of you and stick around anyway.”

“Not everyone has that,” you murmur, glancing at the floor.

“True,” Wade admits, his gaze softening. “But kid, here’s the thing: you’re still here. And now, you’ve got us—like it or not.” He gives you a wry smile. “You don’t have to carry that weight alone anymore. I get it, I really do, but there’s no shame in letting someone else help pick up the pieces. Maybe you just haven’t found your people yet…but you’ve got me, and the squad. We’re not perfect, but we don’t go down without a fight.”

You look at him, a strange warmth spreading through your chest despite the heaviness of the moment. For the first time, you feel like maybe someone actually understands. Maybe, just maybe, you’re not completely alone.

“Thanks,” you say, the word barely loud enough to hear. “For…listening.”

Wade grins, reaching out and patting your shoulder, a bit rough but oddly comforting. “Anytime, kid. I’m annoying, sure, but you won’t find anyone more loyal.” He gives you a wink. “Besides, I told you—I’m not letting you off the hook that easy.”

You chuckle, feeling a little lighter despite everything. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope. It’s a gift and a curse.” Wade stands, offering a hand to help you up. “Now, you and me? We’re gonna keep going until you see just how much life’s got to offer. I mean, look at me—scarred, hated, stabbed on a daily basis—and somehow, I’m still here.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “You’re a walking disaster.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wade says with a laugh. “But hey, you stick around with us long enough, maybe we’ll rub off on you. Logan can teach you how to growl menacingly, and Laura can teach you how to stab with precision. Peter’s got the dad jokes covered. It’s a real all-inclusive experience.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a spark of hope. It’s small, fragile, but it’s there. Maybe life’s not all bright and shiny, and maybe you’ve got a long way to go, but with Wade and this dysfunctional crew, maybe there’s a chance you can start over. At the very least, you’re not alone.

“Alright,” you say, meeting Wade’s gaze with newfound determination. “I’ll give this a shot.”

Wade’s grin stretches wide, genuine. “That’s the spirit, Y/n! I knew you had it in you.” He throws an arm around your shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “And hey, if it ever gets too tough, just remember—you’ve got us.”

You nod, letting yourself lean into the odd but reassuring presence of Wade by your side. For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe there’s a path forward, one you don’t have to walk alone.

And with this crazy group, maybe that path won’t be as empty as the one you were on before.

if you liked the story don't forget to like, reblog and leave a comment if you want!

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics based on Taylor Swift songs as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

🎶 would it be enough if i could never give you peace? by hemakeshimstrongx

(M, 129k, Taylor & Travis au) Harry's fresh off a break up when the media starts shoving a romance that does not exist down his throat, and the throats of everyone in the entire world. When he starts chatting with the footballer stuck in the middle of all this with him, Harry ends up experiencing something he'd never anticipated, and certainly had never felt before

🎶 The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by @kingsofeverything

(E, 109k, cheating) Louis’ life is steady and calm, moored by his marriage, and tied to his hometown, but after a chance encounter with another man, it’ll never be the same.

🎶 even if it’s just pretend (say you'll remember me) by sideofzemblanity

(E, 45k, hate to love) an enemies to lovers au based on taylor swift's wildest dreams

🎶 it always leads to you (in my hometown) by InsightfulInsomniac / @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 40k, Christmas) A holiday story of returning home — not just to a place, but also to a person. ‘tis the damn season and This Love inspired AU.

🎶 the road not taken by teenytinytomlinson / @hs3lt2

(E, 35k, Christmas) the one where Harry returns back home for the holidays after a successful debut album, leaving Louis to unwrap gifts as well as old complicated feelings. Cue: hometown holiday hookups, overbearing siblings, and a disastrous New Year’s Eve party. A 'Tis’ the Damn Season' inspired au.

🎶 it was all by design ('cause i'm a mastermind) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(E, 21k, coworkers) the childhood friends to strangers to coworkers to enemies to lovers fic that you never knew you needed

🎶 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 17k, girl direction) Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

🎶 i just wanted you to know (this is me trying) by harrysboy / @calumsboy

(M, 7k, baking) the one where louis bakes to express his love, and harry can't bake for shit, but he still tries.

🎶 Castles Crumbling by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 6k, omegaverse) Being an unmated Omega and a king, Harry came under a lot of scrutiny. But when he makes a deal with Scotland, his world comes crashing down.

🎶 in a different life (we would've been timeless) by liberty_barnes / @liberty-barnes

(T, 6k, historical) Five lives in which Harry and Louis met and the one where they got their happy ending.

🎶 So It Goes... by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @harrystomlinson

(T, 5k, spy au) “I’m going to kill you.” “Go right ahead, love.”

🎶 Red by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 4k, exes) All he wants to do is lie on his couch and listen to Taylor Swift alone. But when the pain is too much to handle on his own, he calls the one person who understands how this feels.

🎶 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i

(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene

🎶 Electric Touch by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 3k, omegaverse) Harry had given up on love, until his friend Zayn sets him up on a blind date with Louis.

🎶 Timeless by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 3k, omegaverse) After visiting an antiques shop, Harry gets transported through time, and discovers that he and Louis are Timeless.

🎶 Lights Are So Bright by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 2k, famous/famous) Newly first-string quarterback Louis Tomlinson mentions enough times in interviews that he's a fan of mega-famous popstar Harry Styles that people start to notice. At least one person does...

🎶 'Tis the Damn Season by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche

(M, 2k, exes) The door will open and he’ll smile wide and genuine at the people who raised him, his teary-eyed mother and rosey-face step-father. He won’t think about the cabin in the woods again until next December.

🎶 You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows

(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him

🎶 I Don’t Want You Like A Best Friend by temptationaccomplished

(M, 2k, established relationship) “I only bought those shorts so you could take them off.” He whispers.

🎶 Are We In the Clear by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox

(M, 1k, historical) Louis and Harry meet across a crowded court at a time when falling in love would mean their destruction. With help from a friend, they run for their freedom.

🎶 i see sparks fly whenever you smile by sbreadyn

(T, 1k, New Year's Eve) It's New Year's Eve. Louis's running late because Niall took his car. Harry only agrees to go out because of Zayn and Liam.

- Rare Pairs -

🎶 Taylor Swift Has Probably Written A Song About This Feeling by neerdowellwolf

(E, 20k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Nick isn't sure how he ended up fooling around with Louis Tomlinson and he's definitely not sure when he fell in love.

[yuujispinkhair]

Separation Anxiety (Chapter 08)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 4k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Chapter 08

Your love is scaring me. No one has ever cared for me as much as you do (Scary Love by The Neighbourhood)

"Am I still a good boyfriend, Sukuna?"

Big golden eyes gaze sheepishly at him. The question catches Sukuna by surprise.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

A moment ago, they were busy watching a movie while sharing the occasional kiss. But now the brat is squirming uncomfortably on the couch next to Sukuna. A light blush is staining his cheeks when he explains,

"I probably changed a lot because of the memory loss. And I... I just want to know if I still make you happy. Am I still what you want?"

Sukuna frowns. Where is that coming from?

"Of course you make me happy."

You are the perfect stupid little pet that I hoped you'd be.

But the boy is worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I just feel so weird. I mean, we live together and everything. I'm pretty sure we already had lots of sex. And I really like what we do, but... but I always feel like... I feel like a virgin. I have no idea what I'm doing when I touch you. I can't remember. I'm sorry if this isn't what you're used to from me, baby. But I'll learn it again. You can teach me again, right? Please teach me how to touch you in every way you need."

Sukuna's breath catches for a moment. He is sure the brat has no idea what his words are doing to Sukuna. How desire pulses through him, making his veins tingle. How his pants feel too tight all of a sudden. How his fingers want to touch so fiercely that they leave bruises. How his teeth want to mark the brat up for days to last.

Itadori has such an enticing innocence about him. It makes Sukuna's head spin. The way the boy gives himself to him, bearing his all to Sukuna.

The brat's cheeks are glowing deep red now, but he sounds indignant, unashamedly spitting out all those words in his eagerness to be a good boyfriend.

"I promise I can become him again!"

His hands are balled into fists, and his eyes burn with a hard conviction, just like the old Itadori before the memory loss. He is cute like this.

A smile spreads over Sukuna's face, and he reaches out to put a long finger under the boy's chin and tilt his head up.

"Oh, sweetheart. You are perfect the way you are."

My sweet little pet. Just as broken and obedient as I like it.

He silences the brat's complaints with his mouth, claiming his lips with a searing kiss.

Sukuna always knew the brat would look cute on his knees. And he was right.

The best thing about it is that Sukuna didn't even have to force him to do it. Itadori is willingly kneeling on the living room floor, between Sukuna's spread thighs, mouth stuffed full of Sukuna's cock, making unashamed loud slurping noises and soft moans, so eager to please, so turned on by having his boyfriend's cock in his mouth.

He asked, or rather begged, Sukuna to please let him blow him. To teach him how it works again since he cannot remember.

He's such a good pet. And Sukuna treats him accordingly. Running a hand through his hair, petting him, cooing at him, praising him for being so obedient.

"My good boy. So sweet for me. Look at me."

The boy's eyelashes flutter, and he looks up at Sukuna while his sweet mouth is still wrapped around Sukuna's thick length. Big golden eyes meet Sukuna's gaze. They glow so prettily, like liquid gold filled with desire and devotion. All for him. All for Sukuna.

His cock twitches in the boy's mouth. Long fingers tangle in soft pink hair, and a low groan falls from Sukuna's lips. He never was one to deny himself pleasure, always taking what he wanted. But this here is the most delicious thing. To have the brat willingly on his knees for him, so happy that he is allowed to suck Sukuna's cock.

His inexperience is showing, of course. His rhythm is a bit off, and he doesn't know how hard to suck at first. But Sukuna teaches him, guiding him up and down on his cock, and soon he can't help but groan and fuck into the boy's mouth, reveling in how good it feels.

One of the things Sukuna always appreciated about his former vessel is that he is a fast learner.

Itadori sucks and slurps happily on Sukuna's cock, looking into his eyes while he does so, ignoring the tears that gather there and instead taking Sukuna even deeper.

When Sukuna cums, Itadori moans loudly and eagerly swallows all his warm seed.

Sukuna smiles at him afterward, wiping the corner of the brat's lips where a small trail of Sukuna's cum trickles down his chin. He looks so pretty like this. Sukuna catches the cum with his thumb and pushes it into the brat's mouth, laughing softly when the boy instantly begins to suck again.

"Yes, eat it all up, darling. You're such a sweet thing."

He can see the way the boy basks in Sukuna's praise. So happy that he could please his boyfriend.

Itadori sighs happily and nuzzles his cheek against Sukuna's inner thigh. His smile grows even brighter, and his golden eyes gaze deeply into Sukuna's, filled with nothing but affection and adoration.

"I love you, Kuna."

The world stops spinning for a moment.

Everything fades away. Everything except those big golden eyes that look up at Sukuna with so much love.

Sukuna's fingers in the boy's hair tighten. The fake smile on his face freezes, making his cheeks feel uncomfortably tense.

He thought he would be ecstatic upon hearing these words coming out of the brat's mouth. He thought it would be the ultimate victory to make his loathed former vessel fall for him. To take the brat's heart and soul hostage. To have Itadori Yuuji completely at his mercy.

But strangely, Sukuna doesn't feel any joy. The only thing he feels is rage.

It doesn't make sense, but he's angry at the brat! How can Itadori be so stupid? So naive? Doesn't the foolish boy know that love is a dangerous thing? How can he be so trusting and give his love to a monster like Sukuna? How can he serve his precious little heart on a silver platter and give Sukuna the best weapon to destroy him?

Sukuna lets out a slow breath, trying to collect his thoughts again. He doesn't know why he feels such apprehension all of a sudden. This is what he wanted! This is what he planned!

The corners of his lips twitch, and he forces himself to loosen the tight hold on the boy's hair and instead pets it gently.

He can do this. He knows what's expected of him. He knows what to say to bind the brat even more to him.

And so, he smiles at the brat, all charming and sweet, and for the first time in his long life, Sukuna says those cursed words that he never thought would leave his lips,

"I love you too."

It's almost like he can taste the ancient magic those words hold, even though they are just a lie. But they work their magic on the brat regardless.

A happy giggle falls from Itadori's lips, and a second later, he climbs into Sukuna's lap, straddling him and hugging him tightly, all flushed and giddy before his lips press against Sukuna's in a passionate kiss.

Fool.

Another day, another movie night with Itadori all up in Sukuna's space.

He is a cuddly little pet. The moment they sit down on the couch, he is already seeking Sukuna's touch. It's gotten even worse during the last few days after the love confession.

At first, the brat just leans against Sukuna's side and rests his head on Sukuna's shoulder. But soon, a hand is placed on Sukuna's chest, and this hand wanders down to caress Sukuna's abs first through his shirt and then more intimately when that hand slips under the thin shirt.

Sukuna smirks. The brat is such a shameless little slut around him. It fills him with the utmost glee to see this inexperienced little virgin so starved for Sukuna's touch and knowing that the brat never touched anyone else like this.

This is how it was always meant to be. The brat was made for him, after all. It's only right that Sukuna is the only one who is allowed to be that intimate with him.

Itadori Yuuji belongs to him alone. Sukuna already claimed what's rightfully his. He already lived inside that body, walked in that skin, wore that face, held that heart in his hand, heard those thoughts, and felt that soul's red and golden warmth. He already claimed the brat in more ways than anyone else ever could.

And yet, he wants more.

He wants to take Itadori in another way. In the most primal way. He wants to throw him down and fuck him and fill him with his seed, claim him completely.

The brat's hand is slipping into Sukuna's pants now, massaging his hardening cock slowly while his strong warm body snuggles against Sukuna, and hot wet kisses get trailed up and down Sukuna's neck.

Something about it makes Sukuna's blood sing. He cannot wait any longer.

"Come here, baby."

He pulls Itadori onto his lap. His hands sprawl over the boy's firm ass possessively, kneading it roughly through his sweatpants, smirking when he hears the needy moan falling from the brat's lips.

Sukuna makes sure to position the boy right where he wants him, so he can feel Sukuna's hardness rub against his ass, letting him know how things could be. How things will be.

The boy whines loudly, his face flushed and his eyes brimming with desire.

Sukuna chuckles softly, watching the brat with a gleeful expression. He can't help but tease him.

"What do you want, darling? I didn't catch it."

"I want... I want more! Please!"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow,

"More?"

He's basking in the power he has over the stupid brat. How sweet this is! To hear Itadori beg him for more. It's almost addictive.

"Yes, please. I want to be even closer to you... I want you inside me. Please..."

His words sound needy, and his fingers twist desperately in the front of Sukuna's shirt.

Sukuna's cock throbs, making his pants sticky with his pre-cum. This is what he wanted when he started this stupid little game! The brat is all hot and bothered for him, practically begging him to fuck him.

It's perfect. Sukuna smirks up at the brat. Yes, he will claim the boy tonight. He will be inside him again, will fill him again.

They make it to the bedroom in a tangle of limbs, their lips locked, never stopping the hungry, sloppy kisses, their tongues licking at each other, mixing their spit obscenely. Strong hands tug and tear at each other's clothes.

Sukuna pushes the brat onto the bed, grinning broadly as he looks down at the horny boy, half-naked and so hard for him, golden eyes clouded by lust, kiss-swollen lips whimpering the sweetest little pleas, begging Sukuna to take him, to make him his. To ruin him.

Sukuna wants to commit this moment to memory. It's just one of his many victories, but this one holds a special sweetness.

He joins the brat on the bed, and they are back to hungry kisses and demanding touches, undressing each other hurriedly, gasping when their freed hard cocks rub hotly against each other.

The brat chuckles suddenly, big golden eyes blinking up at Sukuna, a sheepish grin on his face.

"I know we did this before, but I can't remember... and I am so nervous somehow. I don't know what to do. It feels like my first time."

Sukuna almost laughs out loud. The brat is so pathetic. So trusting, so stupid. Beautiful.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take good care of you."

I'll make sure to enjoy this thoroughly, knowing that I will take everything from you.

The brat smiles at him with that stupid love-drunk expression, eyes glazed over from horniness but a sweet, dopey smile on his face, full of affection and trust.

"I know... just like you always do. I love you so much, baby."

He is lying on his back, naked, all spread out for Sukuna, giving himself to Sukuna completely.

Sukuna takes a moment to savor his victory and appreciate the sight before him. The brat's beautiful, smooth, tan skin, the firm muscles, and the pretty cock standing hard and tall, oozing pearls of pre-cum for him.

Sukuna's chest feels full and warm. The brat is his to take. His to do with whatever he wants.

He crawls between the brat's thighs, pushing them further apart and gazing down at him with hungry eyes. The feral part of him wants to just take the brat by force, ram his cock into that tight little hole unprepared, and make the brat scream, use him like the little toy he is.

A low growl vibrates in the back of Sukuna's throat.

But he has to take it slow. He has to stay in his role as the loving boyfriend. 

And so he hastily prepares the brat, fingering him open, telling him to be a good boy and spread his legs. And, of course, the naive brat does anything Sukuna asks of him. Blushing deeply but spreading those muscular thighs shamelessly.

Sukuna's own breathing is loud in his ears as he leans over the boy and fucks him open with two fingers, watching him squirm and moan and push eagerly onto Sukuna's hand.

The boy is pathetic, a blushing horny mess that grabs at Sukuna's arms to pull him closer but has no clue what to do with all the needy desire he feels.

It stirs the dark lust in Sukuna even more. He pats the brat's hands away and captures them, fixing his wrists on the pillow above his head with one hand as Sukuna presses him down and smirks at him.

His cockhead is teasing the brat's hole, brushing slightly against his heat, not pushing in yet, but just playing with him, making him even more desperate.

He grabs Itadori's chin with his free hand, pushing his thumb between the brat's lips and prying them open.

Sukuna's blood feels on fire as he lets a thick thread of spit drool into the brat's open mouth, claiming him, marking him, and making him take everything Sukuna chooses to give him.

He watches hungrily as Itadori's eyes cloud over with lust, and a loud, needy moan falls from his mouth as he swallows Sukuna's spit obediently.

The boy is so endearing in his inexperience and eagerness to please. It makes Sukuna's cock throb almost painfully.

You want to be mine so bad, huh, brat?

Golden eyes look up at Sukuna with a pleading look, and Itadori opens his kiss-swollen and spit-covered lips to breathe a whiny,

"Please fuck me, Kuna."

And something in Sukuna's brain snaps.

He pushes into the brat with a violent thrust that makes the brat cry out in pain. Finally claiming him completely, burying his whole length deep inside the brat's tight ass.

Sukuna groans in pleasure, triumph filling his senses akin to the feeling of walking over a battlefield after a victorious battle.

Mine. You're mine.

He tightens his hold on the brat's wrists, pushing him down with his full weight, not giving him any time to adjust to the feeling of being filled, but rutting his hips in a punishing pace, fucking him deep and hard. So overcome with desire that he becomes careless. He wants to hear more of the cries of pain! He wants to ruin the brat! Wants to make him bleed and scream and bruise him for days!

But instead, another sound carries to his ears. The brat moans in delight. And his strong legs wrap around Sukuna's waist as if wanting to pull him even closer.

"Ah! Feels so good, Kuna!"

Something doesn't make sense. Why is the brat moaning in pleasure and pulling him closer?

A second later, Sukuna becomes aware of the familiar tingling sensation of his reverse cursed technique.

His eyes widen.

He unconsciously used his technique on the boy, healing him and taking the pain from him, leaving nothing but pleasure, even as Sukuna fucks into him brutally.

He falters momentarily, the tight hold on Itadori's wrists loosening so the brat can free his hands. But he doesn't push Sukuna off him.

Instead, he puts his hands on Sukuna's back, pulling him closer, caressing his muscles needily, digging his nails into them as he grinds against Sukuna and moans his name,

"Sukuna.....ah baby! Please, please don't stop!"

Golden eyes full of love and trust meet surprised light-blue ones, and Sukuna feels like he is falling.

Like he is drowning in the soulbond, they used to have, feeling it wrap around him again, engulf him and swallow him whole. He is one with Yuuji again. Their bodies and souls are connected again in this intimate moment.

When he spills his seed deep inside the boy, it is with a loud, breathless moan, a sound he can't remember ever making before.

Sukuna doesn't understand it. What is this feeling? He can remember what it was like to be a human a thousand years ago. Not everything, of course, but he remembers feeling various emotions. He remembers feeling anger and joy, desire and hatred. Strong emotions that filled his body with their fire.

But lately, he feels something else. It's not as loud, not as violent as those emotions he remembers. He cannot quite place it, but he's pretty sure he never felt anything like it before. It's nagging him. Why does he not know what this is?

He is pretty sure it has something to do with the brat, though. With the way the old Itadori Yuuji, the one who approached Sukuna with nothing but hate, is gone, and in his stead, there is this other Itadori Yuuji. The one who looks at Sukuna with nothing but love in his eyes. The one who holds him every night and snuggles against him, all trusting and sweet.

It has to do with the way the brat cares about him.

It has to do with the way the brat says he loves him.

Love.

It's the most dangerous curse of all. That's what Sukuna heard back in his time, and the words stuck with him.

Love is a weakness. A way to ruin yourself and others. A dangerous addiction. A form of insanity. It makes the ones afflicted with it vulnerable. Love is a wild force. It's uncontrollable. A magic so ancient and potent that Sukuna fears even he has no power over it. And the loss of control is an idea that makes his skin crawl.

And yet, the brat dives into this madness head first.

Why is he like this? No wonder Sukuna is feeling all kinds of strange things lately! The brat is confusing him! He is making Sukuna see things he has never seen before.

The boy is sitting on the kitchen counter with his stupid, bright smile, looking like he has nothing to worry about. Telling Sukuna how glad he is to be with him and how happy he is about this life they have. There's nothing but sincerity in his honey gaze.

It's a concept so foreign to Sukuna. Everyone he ever encountered had their own agenda. Their own motives. Their own selfishness which influenced their actions.

But not Itadori. He is selfless to a fault.

Itadori Yuuji is a contradiction. He is so weak and so strong at the same time. It makes Sukuna's mind spin as he tries and tries and tries to wrap his head around it.

Sukuna is standing at the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, one hand touching the cold window pane lightly as he stares unseeingly over the nightly city.

He cannot find any rest tonight. He had to untangle himself from the heavy and warm body of the brat to walk to the kitchen and get a cold glass of water before he came here to look at the endless sea of twinkling lights.

He cannot fight this uneasiness that has been plaguing him for the last few days.

Anytime Sukuna's lying on the couch during a lazy afternoon with the brat draped all over him, cuddling him and resting his head on Sukuna's chest, sometimes looking up at him with hazy eyes and ruffled hair and an affectionate smile, Sukuna is scared.

He is scared because there's a strange warmth spreading through his chest, and he is too aware of how loudly his heart is thumping.

He's losing control.

Things are slipping out of his hands, and he doesn't know how to stop it.

The brat means something to him. He cannot quite say what, but something makes him want to have Yuuji around. Safe and sound, wearing that happy, genuine smile on his stupid face.

He wants to keep the brat safe. Sukuna wouldn't mind burning this whole city down and killing everyone in it. He doesn't care about the pain or destruction he causes, even enjoys it. But now there is one person he doesn't want to stand in this chaos.

So, instead of hurting him, Sukuna's hand always finds its way into soft pink hair and strokes it gently, holding the brat in place, holding him close, making sure he won't get up and leave Sukuna's embrace.

This is a development Sukuna didn't see coming. He doesn't like it.

It terrifies him.

Does the brat have power over him? No one ever possessed any power over Sukuna! No one!

Is it because they used to share a body? Does it have to do with this strange separation anxiety he is experiencing since their souls were forcefully separated? Is it fear of losing this bond they had? A bond formed by fate itself?

"Kuna?"

Itadori's soft, warm voice speaks up behind him. Sukuna doesn't turn his head. But a moment later, strong arms wrap around him from behind, and the same voice asks again, closer this time, breath warm on Sukuna's neck, a warm muscular body snuggling against his back,

"Are you ok, Kuna? Did you have a nightmare?"

That stupid nickname! Sukuna grits his teeth. He wants to lash out at the brat, wants to slice him open, and tell him no one calls Sukuna like that. But he cannot do it. He hates it, but deep down, there's a part of him that feels so warm anytime the boy calls him Kuna.

Is that part of it? Of being loved by someone? To feel this warmth when they wrap you in their love and care? The sheer power a name holds when spoken by someone who loves you. The way Itadori says that name in such a tender tone. As if it is the most precious thing he owns. As if the name alone carries love.

Sukuna isn't ok. He is far from it.

But he nods and laughs softly,

"Yes, I'm ok, darling. Just needed something to drink."

Yuuji's arms tighten around him, and his head rests on Sukuna's back.

"Alright, but you can always talk to me if something's worrying you, ok? I love you."

"I love you too."

Empty words that are so cruel in their deceiving nature. One loves, and one doesn't. One says the truth and one speaks lies. And yet, tonight, the words taste dangerous on Sukuna's tongue.

He unfocuses his eyes from the city view and looks at the soft reflection of his face on the window pane. Wide, terrified, light-blue eyes stare back at him.

Finally a new chapter!!! I had such a hard time editing this, but I am happy to finally share it. That last scene is one of my favorites in the whole story. I love the thought of Sukuna looking terrified at being confronted with Yuuji's genuine love and care. Love must really be a scary thing to our dear King. Uncontrollable and powerful. Well, Kuna YOU were the one who wanted to play this little game ;)

Ahahaha I am so soft for Sukuna slowly falling into Yuuji's sweetness and not being able to get out of it again. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

[sweatervest-obsessed]

In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be - Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (uses she/her pronouns)

WC: 11,223

TW: Alcohol, violence, stabbing, boats, spiders, sarcasm, jealousy, trauma, trauma bonding, blood (and lots of it), nightmares, Vecna, mentions of death, smoochy kisses, mentions and flashes of past traumas, Billy Hargrove gets mentioned, brief allusion to second base, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions in general. If I'm missing any please please please tell me and I will happily add them!

A/N: So this was supposed to be a quick and easy 4k one shot, and now I'm in a two parter, rewatching the series to try and make it as accurate as I can be. I forgot how himbo Steve really is. It takes place starting with s4 e5, and it goes to s4 e7 or 8, I don't remember. This is based off of my favorite song of all time, and the fact that they used it in this show makes me so unbelievable happy. I hope y'all enjoy this one! any and all constructive criticism is welcomed and wanted!!!

Part 2

“What’s going on in there?” Steve gently rapped on your head with his knuckles, “hello? Anyone home?” 

He watched as your eyes shifted back into focus, looking at him. 

“It’s nothing Steve.” 

“Yea and I’m the queen of England.” 

“No need for the attitude,” You grumbled, sitting up, attempting to get off the boys bed before 

this turned into a full blown thing with interrogations and prodding in places you didn’t want Steve to see at the moment.

He softly said your name, grabbing your wrist and rubbing his thumb over it. “Will you please talk to me?” 

Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact. A soft inhale and exhale to remind yourself to calm the tears before giving Steve a smile. 

“I’m seriously okay Steve. If it was something that was actually worth anything, you’d be the first person I told.” 

He contemplated your answer, studying the way you wouldn’t look at him. “Pinky promise?” 

You looked over at the clock on his night stand before jumping up and dusting off the proverbial dirt from your thighs. 

“Actually, I, um, I have to go—Steve. Um. I’ll see you later!” You quickly grabbed your bag off the ground of his bedroom floor and quickly made your escape down the stairs and out the front door. 

Steve flinched as it slammed shut and sat there, pinky still outstretched wondering what the actual fuck just happened. You never ever ditched him like that, let alone ignored a pinky promise. 

You, on the other hand, were suffocating. The room had suddenly become too suffocating and Steve—sweet, lovely, kind, perfect Steve immediately noticed, and you just couldn’t let him go poking where he didn't need to be. 

Your headaches had started to come back, but it was nothing new considering your period was about to start anyways. And the last thing you wanted to do was make Steve all worried about some stupid little headache—

“Oh for fucks sake.” You grumbled again before turning right back around on the porch and storming back into his house again. 

Steve had just made it down the stairs when he collided with you in the hall, the door slamming shut a second time. 

“What are you doing—-“ 

“We made that stupid Fucking New Year’s resolution for a year of no poor communication. So. I’ve been having headaches.” 

“…..headaches?” 

You nodded and ran a hand through your hair. 

“Yeah.” You whisper, now suddenly feeling a lot less confident about the situation. 

Steve was silent, his mind racing a million miles an hour. Out of all the people in the world, he absolutely downright refused to let you become the next mangled body. He had seen Eddie’s face when he relieved what Chrissy had gone through, and he had seen Nancy after they had discovered Fred; for fucks sake he was there when Max was levitating in the cemetery. He couldn’t lose you. He seriously couldn’t lose you. Because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if you weren’t with him. He’d loose his fucking mind—that’s what he would do. He’s become some crazy old man like Murray or—-

“Steve.” You took his hand in yours and narrowed your eyes. “Are you listening to me?” 

Steve shook his head and squeezed your hand. “I said, I usually get them the week before my period, and they’re right on time. But with the whole….” 

Steve nodded and looked at your hands together, eyeing the ring you wore on your pinky finger—a pinky promise to him that you always wear.  

“But.” You yanked his hand a little bit to make him focus back up on your face. “Because of everything going on I just didn’t want you to freak the fuck out. But that’s what’s been on my mind.” 

Steve let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…yeah okay I just…” 

“I know.” Even when you could potentially be in true, real danger, you managed to stay level headed, or at least put up a really good front; it’s what Steve admired most about you, and simultaneously loathed about you. 

“I know everyone is at the Wheeler's house but do you want to make them come over here?” 

Steve squeezed your hand in response to your question, his voice still gone. Somehow snatched away with the rest of his mind from the moment he realized you could be taken from him. 

“Okay, do you want me to call them?” 

Steve was a very physical person. He showed his love through actions—getting an eyelash off your nose, buying your favorite flowers, and so forth. But he truly showed his appreciation for someone through small touches; a hand on a shoulder, the squeeze of a hand. But when Steve pulled you into a hug, you were a little surprised. He may love small actions of touch, he rarely was one to give hugs or full body contact, even to someone he has loved for a long time. The boy was getting more and more self conscious ever since the Fall of King Steve and the Bullshit of Nancy Wheeler. 

“Steve I promise I’m okay I promise.” 

“But what if it’s not just any headaches…” he whispered into your hair, tightly holding onto you, terrified to let you go. 

“The second I start getting psycho visions or freaky nightmares, you’ll know okay?”

“Y-yeah.” He sighed, just holding onto you for a bit longer. You rested your head on his shoulder, forehead against his neck, and slowly started to sway with him, trying to drag his mind away from the pit he was dragging himself into. 

He complied, still drowning in ‘what-if’s’. He listened as you started to softly mumble a song to yourself as the two of you stood in the foyer of the Harrington Household, sunset peaking through the windows. 

“Stars shining bright above you, Night breezes seem to whisper I love you, birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.”

Steve focused on the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart, the low hum of your voice. 

“Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me right and tell me, you’ll miss me”

“I should be comforting you.” He grumbled, as you continued to sing and sway. 

“While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.”

“What’s the name of the artist again?” He whispered 

You stopped short and looked up at him, taking only half a step back knowing Steve might lose his shit if you stopped being in direct contact with him. 

“Steven Harrington this is only my favorite song of all time, and you don’t know which version I like the most?! Jesus, you’d think my person would know that.” 

“Okay but that doesn’t answer my question.”  His heart fluttered a little bit when you called him your person. 

“You’re a pain in the ass.” 

Just as Steve went to sass you back, the phone rang, making him jump. Steve stared at it while you were looking at him, watching him flinch every time it rang. “You gonna answer it, or just stare at it.” 

“Well….”

“Steve.”

“I’d really rather not.” 

“It could be important, Stevie.” 

His insides started melting as you called him that. “I really don’t want to.” 

The phone stopped ringing and he smiled cheekily at you before taking your hand and bringing you out towards the patio, sliding the doors open with ease. 

“What are you…” 

“I want to keep dancing with you without any distractions.” 

You blush a bit and shake your head. 

“Okay hot shot. Show me your moves then.” 

“Only if you promise to keep singing.” 

The both of you stepped out onto the patio and closed the sliding doors behind you. He brought you around the pool to the small yard behind it, offering his hand once more. 

“You, Steve Harrington, are something else.” 

He slid his arm around your waist and took your hand in his. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He whispered, kissing your head.  

“Depends.” 

“On what.” 

“Stars fading but I linger on dear.” 

You shrugged. And started swaying again, resting your head on his collarbone. 

“Still craving your kiss.” 

“Oh you crave my kiss huh?” 

You rolled your eyes and continued singing, smiling up at him. 

“I’m longing to linger till dawn dear, just craving this.” 

Steve cheekily kissed your jaw, causing you to smile and squeeze his hand. 

What the two of you missed was the consistent ringing of the Harrington Household phone, that stopped ringing after the fourth or fifth attempt. 

“Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.” 

Steve took the opportunity to spin you around, interrupting your singing. Your laugh was music to his ears, besides the actual singing you were blessing him with. 

“Stars fading, but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss.” 

Steve leaned down and kissed you softly, interrupting your song. You smiled and kissed him back, tasting your cherry chapstick on his lips. 

“You stole my chapstick, I knew it.” You mumbled before swiping your tongue against his bottom lip. 

“Nuh, uh.” He whispered back, moving his hand to your jaw, pulling you a little closer to him. 

You were interrupted by the screaming of Steve’s name and the pounding on the front door. 

The both of you jumped apart, hearts pounding. You looked at Steve while he turned and looked towards the inside of his house. 

The both of you heard the strings of curses from a small army when nobody answered the door, followed by yells about where he kept the spare key, and why was it locked because it was never locked Steve let go of you, much to both of your dismays, before moving towards the slider, only to be interrupted by a “are you SERIOUS Hanginton?” 

Dustin’s head had popped over the fence near the edge of the woods, scaring the shit out of both of you. 

“What the hell Henderson!” You yelled, stumbling back into a chair. Your heel caught on the side, and the metal left a little gash on the top of your foot as you fell into the lounger, the definition of ungraceful. You let out a yelp as you collapsed 

“Shit, Shit, are you okay??” Henderson yelled, attempting to jump over the fence, and only failing slightly. 

Steve rushed over to your side, panicking since the last time there was blood near his pool, well….

You were examining the gash, taping it lightly and flinching at the sting. But then you saw Steve and immediately switched gears into calming Steve down, completely ignoring the blood dripping down your foot. 

“Steve. Hey.” You put your hand on his shoulder but Steve was freaking out. His eyes were wide, and his breathing was erratic. “Handsome, look at me.” You whispered to him, taking his jaw, aware of your audience. 

You loved touching Steve, and he loved touching you, in every way each other's minds could think of, but the two of you tried really hard to not be super all over each other in front of the others. It wasn’t that you were hiding your relationship per se, you both were just private people when it came to your relationship. You were both taking it slow, wanting to make sure everything was just right, earning trust and figuring out one another without the influence and nosiness of your beloved friends. They knew you had at least kissed a couple of times, and were official enough to hold hands in public, but what they didn’t know was that you had been dating each other for over a year now. In fact, you were sure this was it for you—your endgame. You felt such an all consuming love for him, and he knew it too. He was terrified of the ways you would go to bat for him, which is why the sight of your blood near his pool sent him into a slight panic attack. But your touch sent a little shock through his system and he looked up at you, eyes wide and a little manic, lips parted. 

“I’m okay. We’ll just get a bandaid or tw—“ 

The next minute unfolded to be one of the most overwhelming both you and Steve had experienced. First, Henderson had finally scaled the fence and fell over it with a thud and a loud yell. Then, Nancy shoved open the sliding doors, which meant the rest of the kids, and Robin were probably in tow. Dusting had managed to run over to you and started to freak out about your foot, panicking outwardly like Steve was panicking inwardly. 

Nancy finally made it over to the both of you, but only looked at Steve.

“Steve? What the fuck! Where the hell have you been? Y/n wasn’t answering her phone and so Max and Lucas went over to her house—“

“Nance…” 

“and her mom said she was at work but she hasn’t been at work because I was just there and she didn’t take over for me and——“

“Nancy.”

You squeezed his hand. 

“And then you weren’t answering your phone and we called so many ti—“

“Holy shit what the fuck happened to your foot!?” And there was Robin, kindly interrupting Nancy’s ramble. 

Nancy whipped around and looked down at your now slightly blood soaked foot. It was seriously nowhere near as bad as it looked, but because you had been free bleeding trying to help Steve and then everyone burst into the backyard, your foot looked worse than it was. 

“Oh my god!” She squeaked out, thinking back to Barb, and looked at Steve. She noticed his panic and decided it was her responsibility to fix it. 

“Hey Steve?” Nancy knelt down next to him, which made you inhale sharply. Nancy had been….well. Ever since Jonathan had moved to California, she was a bit all over the place, and everyone knew it, including Nancy. Her emotions were running wild, and she had been eyeing Steve again. You were far from jealous, knowing how much Steve loved you since he reminded you over and over and over again. But there was something about the way she was eyeing him, the way she reached out to him, that made your trust waiver—not in Steve, Never in Steve, but maybe in Nancy. 

Steve caught the tail end of your inhale, and looked up at you, his eyes still not focusing a hundred percent but he was trying for you. 

“Can you go get some bandages for my foot Nance?” You asked, squeezing Steve’s hand again, trying to ground him while also trying to politely tell Nancy to back the fuck up. You looked over at her and gave her a smile, as if to say that you got the whole Steve situation under control. 

She eyed your hands before nodding, and heading off into the house. As she had walked into the house and up the stairs, Robin corralled all of the kids mumbling that the show was over. Dustin put up a little bit of a fight but Max and Lucas had dragged him inside and closed the sliding doors. All of the teens did their best to pretend to not look out at the couple on the patio, whereas Robin was casually trying to not stare at the two of you through the kitchen window. Everyone was extremely curious about the secretive couple. 

You squeezed his hand again. “Steve. I need  you to listen to me. I’m okay. It’s just a cut on my foot.” Your other hand came up and slowly took his other hand, hinting that he should be next to you on the lounger. 

Steve obliged, mind still far away, panicking to no end, conjuring up the worst endings he could possibly imagine. 

You gently took one of his hands and placed it on one of the pulse points on your neck. 

Robin had snatched Nancy from exiting the house, shushing her as she tried to justify going back onto the patio. And even if she managed to get through Robin, Dustin and the others would not have let her through anyways. 

Robin had shared a look with Dustin, examining the scene before them. Almost no one had ever seen Steve this vulnerable, and actually no one had witnessed the two of you have such an intimate moment together, collectively making everyone in the house question whether or not they knew either of you at all. 

You were taking slow breaths, letting Steve not only feel your pulse beneath his fingers, but also your breath. It caused him to slowly start to match your pace, chest moving slower and hands stopped shaking. His eyes started to focus in on you again, the hint of a grateful smile ghosted across his lips before it fell under a frown of complete self deprecation. 

“Shit, baby I’m so sorry.” He whispered, not moving his hand from your neck quite yet. “I-I just…it reminded me of…”

“I know, I know.” You whispered. “But it’s just a small cut, and I’ll let you give Henderson the talking to of a lifetime, once I know you’re back with me, yeah?” 

Your eyes had been monitoring his, watching for when he was fully back in the present. Steve nodded and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, I’m here all week.” You teased, before sighing and looking down at your foot. “It’s definitely not that bad but I do want to clean off my bloody foot.” 

Just then, Nancy made her way back onto the patio, with very upset Dustin trailing behind her. Dustin looked so guilty, and so apologetic, and Nancy looked….upset? Mad? Jealous? Whatever it was, Nancy was doing a good job of making it not as important as fixing up your foot.

“Oh thank you so much Nance.” You smiled at her, only faltering slightly when she only responded by giving you a tight lipped smile,  dropping the first aid kid on the chair, and walking Back inside. 

You and Steve looked at Dustin who just shrugged. Whatever it was would have to wait. 

“So why were you people hunting me down?” 

“There’s been another….” Dustin looked down at his feet, and Steve took one of his hands and put it on the kids shoulder. 

“Okay.” You breathed out, taking the medical kit in your hands and digging through it to find all the necessary things to clean up your little wound. 

“ Y/N, I’m really sorry. I-I didn’t mean to—you know. It was a total accident.” Dustin gushed at you and you just smiled in response to him. 

“It’s all good Dusty Bun.” You joked at him, while the kid tore himself into pieces, feeling fucking awful. 

“Shit happens. It’s okay. It’s not like you snuck back here with the intent to injure me….unless.” You smirked at him, letting Dustin’s cheek turn bright red and he shook his head vigorously. 

“No. No. I would never do that to you—“

“She’s joking Dustin. It’s okay.” Steve tried not to laugh at the poor boy, watching as his face fell into a slightly more comfortable expression. 

“Dustin, can you go and round everyone up in the Living Room, so we can talk about everything?” 

Dustin nodded and started to run off before he stopped and turned towards you again. “Promise you’re okay?” 

“Cross my heart and hope to die, kid. I’m all good.” You took your finger, crossed your heart with it and lifted it in the air. “Steven Harrington as my witness.” 

Dustin cracked a smile before going back inside and trying to round up everyone into the Harrington's living room. 

Once you had properly bandaged your cut, you sighed and cast a quick glance at the patio doors, noticing only Max and Lucas lingering, but still giving you all the privacy they could with a glass door. But Lucas was solely focused on Max, making sure her headphones for her Walkman were sitting just right on her head. 

You turned and kissed Steve, soft lips on his. “Are you okay?” You whispered to him, letting him lead the kiss, giving him the control he needed to regain in that moment before facing the troops. 

Steve gently swept his tongue across your lip, allowing him to deepen the kiss a bit more. He sighed so prettily into your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I will be, yea. I just….” You nodded and pulled away from him. Steve glanced over at Max, noticing the headphones and his face fell flat. He had been the one to hold her close when she collapsed outside of Billy’s Grave after floating in the air. And suddenly it was you he was cradling, unconscious. 

“What’s the artist?” 

“What?” You gave him an incredulous look, turned and looking where his gaze was set on Max. “Oh Steve, I don’t think—-“

“Please.” It was so soft, and pleading. Your heart broke as he looked back at you. 

“The Mamas and The Papas.” You said softly, tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me, right?” He squeezed your hand once more as you nodded. 

“Alright.” He sighed and kissed your head before getting up. The two of you could rest when you’re dead, you figured. You stood up with him and brought the first aid kit back in with you. 

Once everyone was back in the living room, the rest of the day was a whirlwind. Lucas was telling you about the fact that Carver and his teammates were hunting down Eddie and anyone who tried to help him. 

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

At some point you found yourself stuck in the back of Nancy’s car. Then, you found yourself stuck in between an argument between a mother and his son about Skull Rock. 

“Yeah well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright?” 

You snorted at that one, while Steve turned towards you, slightly horrified about admitting that in front of you. But you knew King Steve, and it wasn’t like you were unpopular. You were one of those people that managed to fly under the radar by being on everyone’s radar. Nice to everyone simply worked best, especially when it meant you got to kiss and tell without it ruining your life. You smirked at Steve before turning to Dustin. 

“But he’s right though Dustin. It’s over that little hill, on the right, past the two trees.” You slowed down to break the news to Dustin, Max moving to catch up with you, both of you snickering to one another while the rest of the gang looked at you, seriously doubting their knowledge of you at all. 

“Stop gawking Harrington, and move those legs. Let’s roll.” Steve fixed his pace and trudged ahead, eager to prove his best friend wrong. 

You and Max just observed the two. You had been Max’s babysitter since she moved to Hawkins. She was definitely too old for one, but her mother insisted, and she would have much rather spent time with you than with Billy. She was your little sister, your everything, the Dustin to your Steve. You were the one who got her so addicted to Kate Bush in the first place. So when Steve had told you about Max floating into the air, you almost caused several accidents driving from your house to the Wheeler’s, where Max was being kept safe.

 The two of you were giggling about the bickering between the two idiots when you heard Steve and Dustin ahead of you. 

“Bada Bing, Bada Boom, There she is Henderson. Skull Rock, in your face man.” Steve pushed past the both of you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “In your stupid, cocky little face.” 

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, Yeah, even when it’s staring you right in the face, you can’t admit it. You just can’t admit that you’re wrong, you little butthead.” Steve smugly stared up at the rock. 

Two boots landed on the ground, right next to Dustin. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.” 

Dustin started jumping up and down before rushing Eddie into a hug. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.” 

“Yeah, me too man.” Eddie mumbled, looking over at the rest of you wearily. You watched as Steve and Eddie interacted like some sort of divorced parents in the parking lot of a McDonald’s before deciding to ease whatever tension the two of them had going on. 

You smiled and waved at him, “Oh my god, is that the serial killer Edward Eddie “The Freak” Munson, leader of the Hellfire Satanic Club,” 

Max let out a snort, before trying to cover the giggle seeping out of her mouth. 

 “You’re funny there princess, you know that?” 

“Oh I do, Edward. How are you.” You mumbled, patting his back, while you eyed Dustin, who was losing his fucking mind over his compass.

Steve was not the jealous type, or he liked to pretend that he wasn’t. You were a kind person to every single person you met; somehow every single person in the world knew you, and yet nobody had a vendetta against you (to his knowledge) or anything awful to say about you. But it was moments like these, when Eddie called you Princess, or got a little too close, where he would start to tense up. 

“Better now that you’ve brought yourself, and also some food.” He hastily grabbed one of the paper bags from Nancy and grabbed one of the flasks filled with water, drinking almost all of it. 

“When I got to shore, I tried calling you guys but uh, my walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So uh, I did the thing that I do now, apparently. I ran.” A sardonic smile spread across his face, and he shook his head, looking down at his hands. 

“Do you know what time this was, the attack?” 

“No i -i- I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie takes the watch off his wrist and tosses it to Nancy. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing to get soaked.”

“9:27.” 

Robin’s eyes lit up. “Same time our flashlights went kablooey. 

“Which means what exactly?” Steve chimed in.

Nancy sighed, looking down at the watch in her hands before tossing it back to Eddie. “That surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.” 

“Well, we’re one step closer–we know how Vecna attacks.” You mention, watching Dustin pace back and forth. 

“And where he attacks from.” Lucas added on. 

“So now we just need to sneak into his layer in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.” Max sighed, crossing her arms. 

Robin mumbled quickly, “If he even has a heart.”

“A stake is he like a vamp–is he a vampire?” Steve’s eyes widened.

“Oh Steve, babe.” You sighed, pinching your eyes.

“Itt was a metaphor.” Max scoffed in reply to him. 

Eddie looked up from the ground and towards Max. “Uh bullets work on him right?”

“I say we chop his head off.”

“That’s great Lucas.” You muttered, not fully believing this conversation was happening. Steve on the other hand looked at Lucas with a “What the fuck” type of look. 

“Yeah I’d say all of the above, but we can't do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.” Nancy sighed. 

“We need El to get her power back.” You nodded in agreement with Max.

“Everything was wayyyy easier. We had this girl, she had super powers–”

“Superpowers, yea, you mentioned her.” Eddie cut off Steve with a nod before peering over at Henderson.  

“Hey uh, Henderson’s not cursed is he?” 

Steve shook his head. “Cursed, no no, he’s fine. Mental? Absolutely.” 

Just then Dustin raised his arms to the sky, turned to Steve and Screamed the word Boom, at the top of his lungs. Everyone flinched at the loud sound, but your head had started to bug you the second you had found SKull Rock, and you weren't one to say anything, but Dustin screaming at the top of his lungs definitely wasn’t helping. 

“Bada. Bada. Boom.”

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

And just like that, the day sped up again. Your head continued to bug you all the way to the lake. He had noticed that your head started bugging you halfway through the walk to the shore, holding you hand and quietly whispering the lyrics he remembered from the song earlier, just to you. It made your heart melt a little, just how much he cared for you. It was a bonus that it calmed him down in the process. 

“What is Mordor?” He whispered to you, watching as the shore grew closer. 

You laughed softly and shrugged. “There's this book series called Lord of the Rings.” You answered back to him. “And the heroes leave The Shire to go to Mordor to stop the big bad.”

Steve let out a little “huh”, and nodded. The little green monster known as jealousy came back full force. Of course you would know what Eddie was talking about. Of course that was something else Eddie had over him. “And you’ve uh, read this series.” 

“Yes Steve. All four books.”

“Did you like them?”

The questions surprised you. It’s not that Steve didn’t like the things you liked, or didn’t care about what you liked, but this was an interest that you simply hadn’t mentioned because it didn’t seem in his wheelhouse. “Ye-Yeah…why do you ask?” 

You looked at him with a curious smile on your face, and Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. If both you and Butthead up there like it then…”

You stopped and kissed Steve on the cheek. “You’re adorable Steve.”

Just then, Dustin sprinted forward, yelling about the fact that something was happening. Eddie managed to save him from stepping into the lake, when Steve ran up ahead. 

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” He huffed and turned and looked back at you, exasperated. 

“Yea. I thought these woods were familiar.” Eddie’s tone was flat, and disparaging. 

“Lover’s Lake.” Robin sighed, staring out at the water. 

“This is confounding.” Dustin muttered, looking back and forth from the water to his compass and back again. 

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max looked over at you. 

Nancy spoke next, “Whenever the Demogorgan attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way.” 

“Yea, only one way to find out.” You grumbled, also not exactly happy to see the lake. 

Eddie pulled back a tarp to reveal a little boat, definitely not big enough to fit all of you. Once Eddie and Steve had gotten the boat in the water, Robin climbed over the two of them. Eddie went next and helped Nancy get into the boat as well as you. All four of you looked at Dustin, who tried to get onto the boat. 

“Hey, Hey, you trying to sink us?” Eddie shoved Dustin's head back a little and shook his own. “The boat holds four people, tops. okay?”

“It’s better this way, okay?” Nancy walked over to try and comfort Dustin.

And you agreed. “You guys stay here with Max.You keep an eye out for trouble.” 

Dustin was flabbergasted. “You keep an eye out for trouble.” 

You gave him a look considering he just snapped at you, but he only continued. 

“It’s my goddamn theory.” 

Robin leaned over. “You heard Nance and Y/N.” 

Dustin just rolled his eyes. “Who put them in charge?” 

“I did.” Robin sassed back, watching as Dustin tried to process everything that was going on. 

“Compass.” Nancy held her hand out as a very, very upset Dustin reluctantly placed the compass in her hand. 

“Hey. There ya go.” Steve threw the backpack at Dustin before pushing off of the shore with the boat, jumping in at the last second. 

“You said Four!” 

Steve whispered a “sorry” to him as the group began to paddle out towards where Patrick died. 

Robin smiled at them, “Bedtime at nine Kiddos.” in which Dustin just flipped her off. Robin just stood up and waved, “Miss you already.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

As you all sat on the boat,slowly paddling through the darkness of Lover’s Lake, when suddenly Nancy yelled out. “Woah Woah Woah, slow down guys, slow down.” 

All of you leaned in and looked at the compass, it was spinning in circles, no actual direction. 

All of the sudden the walkie lit up and spoke: Guys what’s going on. Come on guys, talk to me, what’s going on.

Robin picked up the call, still staring at the spinning dial. 

“Uh Dustin your compass has gone from wonky to Wonky with a capital ‘aah!” 

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy’s voice reached your ears, and everyone immediately snapped their heads towards the boy who was starting to undress. 

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out.” He pulled off his other shoe and sock. “Unless one of you three can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years then…It’s gotta be me, no complaints. Alright.” That last section ws slightly more aimed towards you than anyone else, but you just stayed silent. 

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” Eddie looked around at the water uneasily before taking one of the flashlights wrapping it in one of the plastic bags they had brought. It was better than nothing. 

Steve pulled his shirt off, and that’s when you caught Nancy staring. This time, you were a little more upset at her openly staring at Steve’s half-naked body. Robin looked between you and Nancy and made a little face, deciding to wait to ask any and all questions to you once Steve was gone. 

“Hey.” Eddie handed him the flashlight. “Good luck.” 

Steve nodded. “Thanks.” Before looking at you and giving you a small smile, meant to be an apology. 

Robin pulled a cigarette from out of Eddie's mouth, mumbled a “gross”, and chucked it into Lover’s Lake. 

Steve stared straight ahead psyching himself up. 

“Steve?” You couldn’t help yourself. 

He looked back at you. You had a horrible feeling about this. Yet you held your tongue because there was no way that Steve “The Hero” Harrington was going to risk anyone else’s life, and trying to talk him out of it was like trying to convince the sky to turn purple—it wasn’t going to happen. All you could offer him was something to maybe calm his nerves. 

“Be careful.” 

You all sat there, each of you doing your own thing to not think about the fact that Steve was under the water. 

“Where are we at Wheeler?” Robin asked, bouncing her leg up and down, glancing from Nancy to the water and back again. 

“We’re closing in on a minute.” Nancy responded with a slight air of worry. 

“Come on Steve.” You mumbled, still watching the water. Robin placed a hand on top of yours and gave you a small smile, just trying to provide at least a sense of comfort even though her best friend was down in the depths of Lover’s Lake. 

When Steve popped up, you all jumped. Eddie yelled slightly with an “Oh Christ!” But you immediately reached your hand out to him, which he was more than willing to reach for. 

“I found it.” 

“You found it?” Nancy piped up before Steve smiled, trying to regain his breath. 

“I found it. Yeah I found it.” He smiled, and unlike the rest of this day, the next thirty seconds seemed to go by in slow motion. 

Steve was hanging off the edge of the boat, still trying to regain his breath before he would climb into the boat, still holding onto your hand with his own. 

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the Gate. It was right where you said it was.” 

Steve was panting. “It was pretty wild. It’s more of a snack-sized gate than a mama gate.” Reference Robin from earlier. “But still, it’s pretty damn big.”

Steve’s head was pulled under the water. All of you moved towards him, trying to get him onto the boat. He resurfaced, a concerned look on his face.

Just as he reached for you, Steve’s face dropped, and he was pulled under. Nance, Robs, and Eddie all yelled out his name, screaming for him to come back. You immediately pulled off the jacket you had been wearing and dove straight into the water, no hesitation. Nancy, Robin, and Eddie then started screaming your name. Your new white converse had been covered in mud and now they were soaked in murky water as you swam for your life to get to Steve. You watched as he was pulled into the gaping portal beneath you. You watched as he was dragged through the water with ease. You swam faster, pushing through the gate not even ten seconds after Steve. 

Your lungs were burning. You fell to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as you tried to ignore the large bruise that would be all along your thigh and shoulder. All of this while trying so desperately to breathe but the air was suffocating. You managed to stand up, and looked around for Steve. Red lightning struck above you both, maybe five hundred feet apart. 

That’s when you heard it, the screeching. Your eyes managed to locate Steve before they were moved to the sky as the creatures started to surround the both of you. You watched as he ran towards something on the ground and picked up an oar, hitting one of the bats that swooped down on him. You ran towards him, picking up a second oar, and started batting, fighting your way to each other. 

Then, you saw Steve get swiped off his feet. A bat around his neck, and two others circling, ready to go in for the kill. Steve kept trying to swipe them off but was starting to fail. He let out a blood curdling scream as his body convulsed on the ground beneath your feet. 

Your blood ran colder than Lovers Lake. You ran towards him, listening as he screamed your name, crying out helplessly for you as they tried to feast on his abdomen and while one was slowly strangling him. 

Anger and panic filled your body up to the brim as you came closer to him. You hit two home runs before you slammed the oar down on one of the bats, eating away at Steve’s stomach, and blood splattered up and across your entire body. You’d be pissed about your clothes if you weren’t already so enraged at the thought of the pain Steve was in. There was blood scattered across your face, and you could taste it on your lips. Dustin might have called you badass if you weren’t so fucking terrifying.

You didn’t notice as Nancy, Robin, and Eddie barged through the portal, and immediately started beating the shit out of all of the remaining bats that tried swooping down on the group of you. 

Instead, you continued bashing in the body of the bat next to Steve. Robin had started watching you, slightly scared of the force you used to bring the oar down onto the bat. But all you could see was Steve. His mouth was open but no sound was coming out as he struggled to breathe, trying to pull the bat's tail away from his neck. You gave it one final blow to the head and watched its body give out beneath you. 

Just as you went to thwack the head of the bat suffocating Steve, something wrapped around your ankle. You dropped to the ground as the bat swiftly pulled you down, bloody oar out of your grasp. 

Robin and Nancy were to take care of the bat that was strangling Steve, Eddie continuing to swing at any bats in the air he could. 

“Nancy behind you!” She turned around and thwacked the bat that came at her before she delivered one final blow, releasing Steve’s throat as it went limp. 

A blood curdling scream left your lips as one of the bat’s bit down into your thigh. All you could see was white and red and all you could feel was white hot pain. The teeth tore through your flesh like butter, and it might have had some sort of venom dripping from its teeth because the exposed flesh felt as if it was melting off your body. 

Steve had managed to rip the bat off of him, and tore it in half with his mouth, willing to tear the bat limb from limb, but then he heard you scream. Steve always assumed he would freeze because in his nightmares he would watch as the dogs tore you limb from limb, or as a demogorgon dragged you into the depths of the upside down, and he would freeze watching as he let you die. 

But not this time. 

His body raced towards you, ignoring the sharp rocks and fuck else that would stick into his bare feet. The adrenaline in his body caused him to pick up the oar you were dragged away from and bash the head in on the bat digging its teeth into your thigh. You were screaming, you were screaming for Steve. His mind clouded with rage as he broke the oar in half and stabbed down, impaling the bat and leaving it stuck to the ground of lovers lake. 

There were tears streaming down your face, as Eddie and Robin helped pull you up and away from the dead animal laying next to you. A sob escaped your lips as you put some weight on your right leg. 

“Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie screamed at the sky, still trying to hold you up. 

Steve’s breathing was labored as he stood above the bat’s bloody carcass. He heard another sob escape your lips and immediately snapped his head towards you, but just as he took a second step towards you, the screeching of bats over head caused all of you to look up at the sky. 

“Shit shit shit.” Eddie muttered, looking around trying to find a spot for cover. 

“There’s not that many, we can take them.” Steve huffed, still running purely on adrenaline and spite. 

Another bellow of screeches came from the sky across the barren lake. 

Nancy ran over to you and gently squeezed your shoulder, luckily the one that wasn’t bruised. “We need to find cover. Now. Can you make it if Eddie and Robin help you?” Her eyes search yours, simultaneously checking for your inevitable concussion based off of the way you dropped to the ground earlier. 

You just whispered out Steve’s name, eyes starting to close. 

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me. He’s okay. He’s alive okay? I need you to stay with me for just five more minutes, okay?” Nancy was starting to freak out the more you drifted in and out of consciousness. She turned to look at Steve, who was shutting down on his own, his own adrenaline starting to wear off. 

“Eddie, Do you have Y/N?“ Nancy practically shoved Robin towards him while wrapping your arm around his neck while he supported you. “The more people that help her the better.” 

Steve had reached out to help but Nancy shook her head, “ I need you to focus on finding us Skull Rock, and not collapse while holding her. Got it?” 

Steve stared at Eddie, his frame supporting you, and huffed before nodding. 

Once everyone had secured their position, you all quickly made their way towards Skull Rock, well as quickly as you could possibly be. Eddie spent the whole time whispering how proud he was of you and how badass you looked and how good you were doing while walking, all of the encouragement and little jokes you needed to stay awake and push through the pain to get to get under the rock. While Robin was freaking out about Rabies, which was so extremely helpful of her, thank you robin!

Once you had all taken cover from the bats, you leaned against the wall, just trying to breathe again. That’s when Steve started to lean on the wall, and eventually collapsed to the ground. 

“Steve?” Nancy immediately stood up and made it to him in record time. 

You would have turned bright green if you weren’t starting to pass out on your own. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He grumbled, slowly sliding down to the ground. 

“No no no, you’re losing blood. Shit.” Nancy had ripped her skirt to provide some bandages for Steve. 

“Steve?” You mumbled before, your legs gave out, Eddie managing to catch you. 

“Shit Shit shit.” He started panicking and looking at Robin, who in turn started panicking again. 

“Nancy!” Robin yelped, kneeling down next to you trying to keep you awake. 

Nancy took one look at you and turned back around to Steve who was trying to get up and reach for you. “Steve, I need you to stay still.” She turned back to Eddie and Robin. “You need to rip her jeans!”

 “No no no, hey. Stay with me. I need you to stay awake Y/N.” Robin whispered, squeezing your hand. All she could think about was dying by animal bite, which was so not comforting for any one involved. 

Steve gasped as Nance tightened the bandage. Once it was secured he scrambled over to you. 

“This is going to hurt baby, I’ m so sorry.” He mumbled to you, before gently taking the places where the Bats had broken through and ripped the jeans, creating one short leg. He pulled the bloodied pant leg down, trying to avoid the gushing wound on your leg. As quickly as he could, he tore up your jeans and started using it to wrap up your thigh, causing you to moan in pain anytime he would come near it, which resulted in a string of sorry’s coming from him.

You managed to take a look at Steve, covered in makeshift bandages and Eddie’s vest. If this were any other time, you’d make a quip to only him about how hot he looked but instead all you could do was slur his name and keep your head tilted back against the rock, doing your best not to pass out from the pain. 

“Shhhhh baby it’s okay.” He whispered, as you whined again when he tightened the bandages. 

All you could do was whimper and lean your forehead against the rock. At least it was cool to the touch, providing some relief for you. Your breathing was becoming more and more labored as the minute passed, and all Steve could do was whisper to you as it happened. 

“I cant…” you mumbled to him, the first coherent words besides his name that you uttered since the boat. “I’m so tired.” 

Steve shook his head. He finished tying the bandage before placing one of your hands on his pulse point, and his hand on your own, refusing to let this happen. 

“Fuck. No no no. Y/N hey. I need you to stay awake, pretty girl. Come on.” His voice quickened and his eyes quickly flitted to Eddie and Nancy and Robin. 

“We have to.  We have to go. Now. She can’t.” Steve was trying so hard not to cry, and was barely making it through a full thought before the next one came. “Fuck. How are we.”

“Steve, I don’t know if she–”

Nancy had never been scared of Steve before, but the look he sent her made it clear that whatever thought she had should not be said out loud. 

“We need. To find. A way out.” He said through gritted teeth, listening to your breathing get slower than he’d like. 

You hear him call your name once, and then twice, and then the next four hours of your life are all a blur. 

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

You awake on Nancy Wheeler's couch in the Upside Down, while Steve is screaming into the abyss at Dustin. 

Your head is pounding and you groggily go to sit up, but immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. As soon as you do make it up you keel over and start coughing, dry heaving really. 

All four heads snapped in your direction, and Steve dropped the Lite Brite on the table, rushing over just as you start to feel the bile in your throat. 

Steve quickly dragged over one of the stupid little trash bins that Mrs Wheeler kept around the house that the Upside Down had magically decided was necessary, and placed it in front of your face before grabbing most of your hair. 

His efficiency was appreciated since you started to vomit into the trash, your head pounding and your throat burning. 

Once you had thrown up everything in your stomach, plus what felt like your actual stomach, you gagged a bit on the air in your throat.  

Steve was rubbing your back and mumbling soft words while you were still hunched over. 

“Morning Princess.” Eddie called from the dining room, and while you didn’t have the energy to give him some choice words, you did have enough energy to flip him off quickly. 

Steve shot him a look but Eddie only let out a chuckle at your antics. Clearly the brink of death suited you well since your sense of humor and your attitude were still intact. 

“Why were you yelling at a lamp?” You eventually managed out, voice hoarse and almost completely gone. Robin had come over with a water bottle they had found in the fridge of the neighbors house. 

“I thought you were gonna die.” She whispered to you, in which Steve turned his glare towards her instead. 

You gratefully took a sip of the water, swallowing it before it immediately was rejected by your stomach, which causes you to vomit it back up into the trash bin. 

You winced at the sting on your throat, and Steve winced because that wasn’t a good sign. 

“Thanks Rob.” You send her a quick, but soft smile. She quickly took your hand and squeezed it, knowing that was all she was going to be able to say without starting to cry. “If you….well. I think I would’ve had to kill Steve because he would've been so unbearable.” 

Which causes you to giggle slightly and nod. “I can see that happening.” 

“Guys!” Nancy yelled over, giving you a very relieved smile, “we’re heading to Eddie’s Van in ten. There's still the kids' bikes at the house still so we can take those.” 

Steve stood up and had a lot to protest but you just pulled his hand, causing him to look at you. “Steve. Really, I’ll be okay. We just need to get out of here.” 

The others dispersed, getting ready to leave, letting you and Steve have a moment to yourselves. 

Steve sat back down next to you and kissed your hand. “I—, you looked so hot beating the shit out of that bat.” He joked, causing you to muse a smile at him. “I know right. Sexiest murderer around.” You jested back.

“You….” Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat and let you see the tears building up in his eyes. “I—“ 

“But I’m all good. I promise. My head still kind of hurts though. Guess we’ll have to play period, concussion, or Vecna.” You tried to joke, but Steve just sent you a glare. 

You sighed, and what you did next was for mostly your benefit, partially for Steve’s benefit, and slightly to piss off Nancy who was pretending like she wasn't watching you both from her kitchen alongside the other two. 

You kissed Steve. It was simple, and quick, but mostly it was reassuring. 

He hummed slightly before letting you pull away. “Even after you ripped a bat to shreds with your mouth, you still taste like my fucking chapstick.” You laughed softly before looking down at your legs. You were no longer in your jeans, but in a pair of Nancy’s shorts. Your leg had been bandaged a lot better, but you knew the second you got back into the real world, you would need to get the disinfection of a lifetime. 

“Does Nance have any alcohol?” 

Steve gave you a look. “I don’t think now is the time to start drinkin–”

Much to Steve’s chagrin, you stood up. A groan left your lips as you put weight on your bed leg. “Hey Nance? Where does your dad keep the good stuff.” 

She looked up at you before running off to go get exactly what you needed. 

“It’s going to numb the pain Steve, and I love you, but right now, I need to not feel my thigh so I can ride a stupid bike over to Eddie’s stupid van.” 

Steve shook his head and stood up. “Look, Y/n,” he sighed. “I really don’t want to fight but–”

“Then don’t, Steve. This is not your call to make right now. Just. I need you to trust me okay?” 

Steve huffed. “Fine.” before he walked off into a different room. 

Nancy slowly came in with a bottle of scotch from her father’s liquor cabinet. “Hey…”

“Shit, Nance. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” you mumbled, sitting back down on the couch. 

She shook her head and sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle and handing it over. “How…How long have you guys been together?” 

You took the bottle, and took a swig, letting the liquid burn your throat. “God this is awful.” You coughed and laughed a bit with Nancy as she cracked a smile. You offered her the bottle and she gladly took a swig. 

“I would also like to know.” Robin piped up, moving and sitting on the floor in front of the both of you. Once Nancy took a swig, she handed it to Robin. 

“Oh, fuck. It’s uh…What is it, March?” The girls nodded and you sighed. “A year, give your take.” 

Both of their jaws dropped. “I’m sorry what!” Robin’s eyes were wide open. “Since when!”

“Since like February of 85 Rob, get it together.” You took the bottle from her and took another swig. 

“Holy shit.” Nancy mumbled, realizing she needed to reevaluate her entire life at this point. “Why didn’t you tell anybody?” 

“Well, we had just started dating, right, and we wanted to take it slow really try not to fuck it up, ya know?” You took another swig before handing it back to Robin. “And we were gonna tell everyone but then Starcourt happened and uh. Getting the shit beat out of you by Russian thugs, and being forced into taking a truth telling serum really makes for complicated relationship updates to your friends. And Steve had just graduated and was really trying to figure his shit out—I don't know. Honestly, it never came up, nobody asked.”

Robin took a swig and shoved the bottle into Nancy’s hands. “Well I thought he was just pining after his best friend, who is waayyyyyy out of his league if I’m being so honest right now.” 

“Thanks Rob.” Steve mused from the doorway, leaning against the side of it while Eddie just stood there, arms crossed. 

“You guys started partying without us I see.” Munson interjected, with a smile on his face. 

Robin turned bright red before shaking her head. “Steve I—”

“Don’t apologize. I mean she is quite literally so out of my league, it’s a miracle she even likes me, let alone loves me.” 

You sent him a wink, while Eddie and Robin passed a look between the two of them. Nancy just took a slightly longer swig of the alcohol. 

“We need to get going.” Nancy mumbled, standing up and walking into the kitchen. 

“Is she okay….” Steve whispered to you, coming and offering you his hand to help you stand up. 

You shook your head. “She’s been going through a lot lately, and I think she’s trying to figure out all of her feelings. She’ll be okay.” 

He kissed your head before looking at the others in the room. "Let's get going then, shall we?" 

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

Your head was throbbing. It felt like it was split open. One moment you're standing with Steve, watching Nancy climb up the rope, the next you're falling through the air. With a sudden thud, you land on the ground, and scream out in pain. Your leg was so fucking sore, and your whole body ached as you stood up.

You look around and realize you're back in the parking lot where the mall was. You see something laying on the ground further away, watching as the vines around you pulsed. Slowly you took step forward and then another before you left out a gasp. There was Billy, lying just how you remembered him, on the ground. His body was covered in vines and a slug slowly started to crawl out of his mouth. You stumbled away from him, trying not to sob, looking around for anything.

Do you remember what you did, y/n?

You look up towards the sky, trying to find where the voice was coming from. Flashes of your last moments next to Billy as he died in your arms while Max watched. 

Or have you already forgotten.

Flashes of Steve’s lips on yours, Max floating in the cemetery. 

When I kill someone...

Another of Max sobbing into your chest, Billy's screams in your ear, Steve’s hands on your body. 

I never forget.

The Mind Flayer stabbed through Billy’s chest. Blood poured out of his mouth as he looked at you.

Suddenly vines started to over take the parking lot, from all sides. You spun around, panicking, trying to find a way out. You ran past a few cars, ignoring the shocks of pain through your system. Once you had run far enough away, you realized that it was no longer the parking lot of Starcourt.

You were suddenly standing on the staircase of the dilapidated old Creel House. A clock ticks, floating by you, as you slowly start to descend, eyes frantically moving back and forth. Your chest was starting to close up.

I see you've been looking for me Y/N. You were so close. So close to the truth. How was old, blind, dumb Victor.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, and spun around slowly, still trying to locate wherever he was.

Did he miss me? I've been meaning to check back in, but I've been busy.

You look to your right, and there's Chrissy's mangled body, vines clutching it. Her jaw was wide open, her eyes were gone, and you could see the snapped bones.

So very busy.

You watched as a door formed in front of you, the Creel House, except it was brand new. You watched as the little girl walked by you, claiming the house was a fairytale.

You stared at the gaunt little boy in the corner of the foyer, eyes dark.

He watched you back, and your whole body shivered. You slowly followed him through the house, watching as he made his way to the bathroom, and took off the grate. You turned away once you realized what he had been holding in his hand, unable to face something you so grotesquely hate. 

Suddenly a boy went past you, and you followed him into the attic. He had created this sort of altar, filled with candles and little jars filled with Black Widows. He was just a child. 

You wandered down the stairs, and watched the boy watch the clock in his foyer. The ticking of the clock rang in your ears, and all you could do was stare at this boy. The anger festered and festered and festered.

A shrill scream caught your attention as you turned around, suddenly in the yard, watching as the young boy caught and tortured a bunny. Its screams rang out as he reached out, not touching the animal, and slowly started to destroy it. Your chest was heaving as you ran back into the house, slamming the door closed, not wanting to see another moment. 

You watched as a crib, covered in fire, rocked itself in the fireplace, infants screaming all round you. The fire lit uo Henry’s face, eyes closed, moving back and forth underneath his lids. 

Suddenly, as you turned around, you heard music. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice rang through the halls. 

Stars shining bright above you. 

You let out a strangled sob. This was your favorite song. The family sitting at the table was formally dressed up. It must have been a special occasion for all of them to have looked so cleaned up for a family dinner. The Radio started moving between stations even though no one was touching it, but Henry was looking at it. 

The lights started to flicker. The radio couldn’t hold down a station. Everyone was suddenly on high alert, trying to figure out what was happening. Your voice was stuck in your throat as you watched the mother float up into the sky, her bones shattering and splintering as her eyes bled. She landed on the table with a thud, causing you to jump back. Vecna has a sliver of blood draining from his nose. You watched as he murdered his sister, and then moved onto his father. Lights flickering. Radio shattering. But then he collapsed on the ground. His father was quickly arrested and blamed for the murders of his wife and daughter. 

You watched as this boy was subjected to the tortures of Dr. Martin Brenner. You watched as he was tattooed, branded, with the mark of 001. 

“See? Not so bad. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Doctor Brenner said, looking at 001. “Is there Y/N.” His head turned towards you and you took a step back. 

Why Don’t you take a seat.

And you ran, You sprinted as quickly as you could to get away fromBrenner, from Vecna. The hallways were filled with the dead bodies of guards, the screams of the children held hostage, the lights flickering. It was carnage. The blood smeared against the walls caused you to just freeze. You tried to run the other way. You tried to run as far as you could. 

Steve was screaming in your face. He had both of his hands cupping your cheeks begging you to come back to him, to stay with him. His heart was racing. All he could see were your eyes, rolled back into your head, your body just unresponsive. It was his worst nightmare come true. He screamed at the others to hurry up, just shaking you and begging you to come back to him. 

“Please Y/N, fuck. Please, stay with me. Come back to me. I can’t–you need to come back.” 

Erica had run into the other room trying to help the rest of the team speed through all of Eddie’s tapes. “Steve says you need to hurry!” 

“Yeah no shit!” Yelled back Dustin, while Max screamed that they couldn't find anything useful. 

“Seriously what is all this shit.” Robin was just throwing tapes, trying to find the right one. 

“What are you even looking for!?” Eddie yelled back. 

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles. Music We need MUSIC.” She yelled at him. 

“This IS MUSIC!” Eddie screeched back. 

You were running as fast as you could through the damp hallways. The walls were never ending and they were painted in blood, so much blood. You had to maneuver around bodies, all the while looking behind you, trying to out run Vacna. Your eyes were stinging from the air of the Upside Down, and your lungs couldn’t keep up. The exit had been nailed shut, covered in boards. Your panic was setting in as you looked around, trying to find any answer. You kicked and pulled at the boards until one came loose. As you got your hands around the second one, a voice came from behind you. 

Y/N. 

You slowly turned around, shaking. There he was. Vecna was slowly stalking towards you, like a predator watching its prey. 

What are you doing? It’s not time for you to leave. 

You clutched the door handle, praying to whoever out there that would listen to help you. You keep yanking on the wooden plank. Another one came off as you started to yell. The third one was looser but refused to budge. He kept coming closer to you. 

Now that you’ve seen where I’ve been. 

And closer. 

I would like very much to show you where I am going. 

And closer. 

You managed to get the final one off before you shoved through the doors, using all of the will power you had left. But suddenly you were no longer in the hallway, it was the same room you had just been looking into. 

Dr. Brenner stared at you, eyeless. “Take a seat y/n.” 

The lights flickered out, and all you could hear was your breath, terrified to even move.  

When the light’s came on, you realized you were strapped to the table. The straps were pulled so tightly, you were starting to lose feelings in your fingers. You struggled against them, unable to be freed. Vines had wrapped around your legs, chittering away as you started to cry, thrashing around, trying to get out of the chair. They were slowly coming up your arms, getting tighter and tighter. You couldn’t move. Vecna was across from you, stalking towards you once more. You couldn’t get out, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t–You couldn’t even think straight. He kept coming closer, and closer and closer. You tensed up, letting out a whimper as he slowly leaned in. 

I want you to tell Eleven. I want you to tell her everything you see.

His claw came up over your face and flashes of lights filled your minds. Steve dead in your arms. The town cracking and being swallowed whole. The clock tolled. Your friends screaming your name as Vacna took them one by one. Splits in the earth throughout everything you knew and loved. You screamed out, struggling against him. Another clock chime. More death. More Destruction. 

Tell Her. 

“No!” You screamed back at him, tears streaming down your face as you continued to struggle. Max dead in your arms. Lucas laying on the floor in front of you. Robin tore to pieces. Cracks in the earth. The clock tolls again. Vines covering your home. 

Tell Her Everything.

You scream at the top of your lungs as his claw presses against your face. 

You inhale and suddenly stumble back away from Steve’s grasp, tears start to stream down your face, as you collapse to the ground. Steve immediately catches you. 

“Woah woah woah. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He cradles you against his chest, as you struggle to breathe, panting and sobbing. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.” 

You stare up into Steve’s eyes, paralyzed, and for the first time, Steve doesn’t know what to do. 

[toiletwipes]

Whenever I'm Alone (With You) | clinic!wilbur

~4k words. / [It's a festival day in this fine park and you were unknowingly matched up by destiny! Warning! Might get sad towards the end, otherwise a pretty happy, fluffy piece.] hope you enjoy! i definitely wasnt avoiding two other fics by starting this one! might have a part 2!

Disclaimer: this is the Wilbur variant from the Tommy's Clinic for Supervillains fic, inspired by my lunatic daydreamings

Title inspired by Lovesong by The Cure

xxxx

“And you’re not dating anyone?” Seff, your friend, asked you, chewing on kettle corn as you wandered the venue, and you had to roll your eyes and then immediately apologize to a couple you bumped into because you weren’t looking. He could hardly hold his laughter back as you gave him a hard look.

“How is that so hard to believe?” You respond, stealing some of his snack, holding a handful as you look around.

“It’s hard because well- just look at you.” You gave him an unimpressed glance, “any person would be lucky to have you as a date, even luckier as a person.”

“Guess these people have shit luck then.” Shrugging, you end up under the musicians’ tent, the music blaring from well-placed speakers with plenty of chairs set up in front of the slightly elevated stage. And it’s decorated with the cozy environment, lights strung about and over the heads of everyone, flowers arranged in front of the stage and vines wrapped around various speakers. And then there’s the musicians. It's a small band with the drummer, a bassist and the lead singer. It’s a nice vibe for a night like this, a festival of good music and good food, and sometimes, you send Seff a stink-eye, good company. “Come on, let’s have a seat.” You didn’t want to walk all night and if Seff was going to be annoying, you didn’t want to add aching soles to the list.

As you sat down and the band played a few more songs, Seff had little else to say about your dating life and it’s not like he didn’t mean well but- dating does you much good in this life. Because in this life, it’s not just surviving a nine-to-five job and the traffic, it’s about surviving the horrors of having superheroes and vigilantes and supervillains. Seff had a hard time convincing you to come because of how little the heroes or villains are seen around the venue. Despite being on the edge of down-town, the venue was a lovely little heritage park with plenty of trees, plenty of benches and plenty of grass.

Sometimes the grass wasn’t a good thing and for that, you looked stupid, leaning down to scratch at your ankles. Bending over, though, you meet the eyes of a man who turns in his seat to look over his shoulder and it makes you shiver. He’s too fucking pretty to be real and his eyes glide right off of you the moment you move yours off, looking down and scratching till your ankle was red.  But fuck, he was so pretty. Brown hair curling on his head, almost in his eyes with big eyes to match his wide smile, sharp jawline, and, with a quick glance and a mental curse, you could tell he would be a tall man. Wearing a yellow sweatshirt, he matches his jeans with a dark beanie and boots. Not to mention his hands, long fingers gripping the chair and-

Shit.

Breathing in and out, you sit up straight and reach for the kettle corn, “hey!” Seff could choke, for all you care.

After the band plays their last song, the somewhat decent crowd claps and cheers and the lead singer thanks the audience and you and Seff stand up from your seats and as you’re about to head down the aisle to the exit you end up brushing past the pretty man, chests grazing and just barely catching his eyes and apology. Seff curses him out from under his breath but you could hardly breathe, how could a man be so pretty and just be so close?

Once Seff figures out you’re not overstimulated by the rudeness of the action and just his looks alone, he teases you. “Oh, well now you have to talk to him.” He says, wincing as the tattoo artist gives him a flash tattoo.

“I don’t have to do jack-shit,” you flash the bird at him.

“It’s fate, getting so close and then having to part with each other, can you think of anything more romantic? And at a festival like this?” Groaning, you lean back into the lawn chair, covering your face with your hands and pulling at the skin below your eye.

“It was an accident, Seff, please can we move on?” You plead with him as the artist hums and finishes up.

He gives you a side-look, “I mean, what if he’s a cool person and he has lots of money?”

You give a frustrated sigh as Seff gives his new tattoo a lookover, paying her, he gets up and gestures overly dramatic for you to get in the seat. “I’m only getting in this chair because you’re paying her, don’t forget that.”

He slaps your shoulders, somehow avoiding your immediate flapping of hands to get him back, “wouldn’t dream of it, now, how are we feeling about stars, my good friend?”

And it’s not even a few minutes after you decide on a design when she starts and you happen to look away from her handiwork to find big eyes under a mop of brown hair staring at you from across the walkway. Your breath catches in your throat and you want to choke on it and die in that moment but then he turns to- oh, that’s the drummer from the band playing earlier. Oh that’s nice, he went to support a friend. Okay, yeah, he’s just a normal person. Just a normal person you’ll forget at the end of the night. You work on breathing in and out as she continues with her work and Seff is the only that notices your reaction. “If I look, and it’s the pretty boy, I’m telling him you like his butt.”

You quickly hiss at him, “you do that and I’ll throw your ass to the Syndicate, don’t even think about it.” Glancing in the pretty man’s direction, he’s turned away for now. “And if not for the laws of this land, I would run you over, reverse, and run you over again.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you loud and clear, but come on, a second time you’re running into him, don’t you think-” 

“-this park is small, of course I’m gonna run into a couple of people during a fucking festival-” 

“-don’t you think, you should give fate a chance?”

“This isn’t fate.” You tell him, and refuse to dignify anything he had to say after that with a response. Twenty minutes later the tattoo is done, a little red but for the most part, it looks good and you thank the artist profusely as Seff pays for the order. After he pays, the two of you compare your tattoos and grinned at each other. “Now, time to get what I’ve been looking forward to this entire evening.” Seff drapes an arm over your shoulder and you mind your wrist as you do the same, heading towards the food vendors again. The kettle corn had been only enough to satiate Seff for the time being. “My favorite, cotton candy.”

There’d been a long line, getting in it, Seff had the brilliant idea of trying to get you to consider that maybe there was more to play than just people attending the local festival. “What do you have to be afraid of? The worst he could do is say no,” Seff tries saying, but you shake your head.

“Absolutely not, that would not be the worst thing that could happen. Worst thing that could happen is that I trip and die before I get rejected or right after. And then a meteor strikes right on top of me just to put a cherry on top.” You ramble, irrational fear creeping on the back of your hairs as you think about talking to the pretty guy. “All I’m saying is, yes he’s pretty but I have no idea who he is or what he likes, what am I going to do if he says yes and I have to plan a date right then and there? If I say coffee and he says he doesn’t drink it, do you know fast I’d start digging a grave? Pretty fast, I’ll tell you that.” Your eyes are pulled forward as the line moves up and up, the guy in front of you being fairly tall so you don’t think twice about leaning away from Seff and checking the menu. “Like I was saying, I would rather drink spit from the bathroom floor than get rejected. At the festival, no less, where I’m supposed to be stress-free. What happened to that, Seff, I feel pretty stressed right now, I think I might even go home.” Seff sighs as loud as he can before wrapping his hands around your shoulders.

“You need a Xanax or something, I swear, look, we still have the light show and more bands to check out, I’ll even buy you a stuffed animal, and I’ll lay off the pretty boy.”

“Thanks.” And then, for some reason, you hum. “He was really pretty, wasn’t he?”

“He was, with the hair and the-”

“The eyes and his smile-”

“He was so pretty, especially in the yellow sweater, it’s unfair.” You sigh, looking up just in time to see the person ahead of you receive their two items, cotton candy hand in hand as they turn around, in the very same fucking sweater you lamented about, and he smiles with a blush on his face. You would thank your lucky stars if he hadn’t been stuck in line, listening to two strangers arguing about asking him out and ranting about his prettiness. You would say your heart leapt out of your chest and buried itself beneath the grass and dirt under your feet.

“I’m not sure what to say but I appreciate the compliments,” and he nods his head and walks away.

Your mouth dropped open into a gape and as Seff places and receives his snacks, quickly smacks him when he gets out of line. “I hate you, I hate you so much!” Seff has the audacity to laugh into his snacks, snorting even as you resist the urge to bury your whole body into the ground, sure to receive a ticket maybe, for disturbing the peace but still. Don’t they know that the worst thing has happened?

“I’ve changed my mind, this is the worst thing that can happen, so if it's all the same to you, I would like to swim in a toaster bath,” you whisper under a hushed breath, looking over your shoulder and shivering, turning back to Seff as you bite your knuckles, “what if he comes back with a restraining order? Seff, I can’t get a restraining order against me-”

“Okay, okay, let’s go have a seat, you’ll feel better once you do, I promise.” You wanted to bite his head off so hard, but damn it, these things are serious. That must’ve felt so creepy and off-putting and fuck, he probably thinks you’re a freak or a weirdo. And nothing is worse than an unassuming pretty boy assuming you’re a freak-slash-weirdo. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.

Back at the musicians’ tent, you find yourself being lulled to a pacified calm by a new band playing something softer. A sweeter, yet nostalgic tune. The accordion, violin and key-tar working well with each other and with the accompanying piano and drum players. It keeps you under this soft blanket of peace until the band bows, breathing in with the beat Seff taps into your knee. The two of you continued to sit in silence, occasionally Seff would comment something about the bands but it wasn’t until the third band that someone sat next to you and cleared their throat. From the panic to the now somewhat peace you had in your mind, you are startled out of your skin when you find the pretty boy sitting so close, his knees just a few inches away from yours, the beanie adjusted and the look on his face seemed nervous. Oh, please don’t be a restraining order, you mentally chant, forcing yourself to politely smile at him.

“I know eavesdropping on conversations is rude but… would you forgive me if I asked you to walk with me for a little bit? I don’t know this place like the two of you seemed to.” He admits and in the same breath… does he ask you out? No, probably just for directions and since they were so direct and polite and respectful, you get to be killed off in a less-public area.

“I’ll be here, my wife should be coming in soon.” Seff peers around to smile at the stranger. And then he leans in closer, “still have that knife in your pocket that I gave you?” You elbow his side before turning to the pretty boy, flashing a quick, apologetic smile.

“If I die because of him, I’m coming back to haunt you.” You say standing up and shoving his shoulder back.

He gives a shout as you walk away with the stranger, hands tapping your side as you look anywhere but him, slowly walking the paths the festival had set up. “Did you have anywhere in mind, or did you just want to walk around?” You ask, unable to help yourself, looking at the string of lights hung above the wooden posts of the vendors.

“Oh, well,” you finally turn your head to look at him, finding him sheepishly smiling at you and it takes your breath away again, “I just wanted to talk to you alone.” You don’t know whether to be afraid or flustered, though fear was making a run for the money.

“Was there any reason, then, you wanted to talk to me alone?” You ask and that’s when he stops the two of you, underneath the biggest tree in the park, decorated with lamps hanging above and tealights on the ground. You can’t help but see the romantic notions the people have put on this tree and you wonder if the two of you were closer to the first couple or the last couple to come here for the night.

His eyes dart over your face and if it weren’t for the various lights around, you would’ve never seen the blush dusting his cheeks and ears. “Forgive me, I just- when I was eavesdropping in the line earlier, I thought you were funny and I did- I mean- I also found you very pretty. If it helps. And I almost didn’t come to you when I did but my friends- they-” he stumbles over his words before stopping completely, offering an apologetic smile as if you didn’t find everything he did endearing. Fuck, how were you supposed to breathe normally when this guy is just so fucking cute. “I wanted to get to know you.”

“Okay,” you begin, and then you look around, trying to think of something to say, something normal before you turn to look back at him and he was smiling something so gentle it left a hole in your chest. Why is it so hard to breathe around this pretty boy? “Then let’s start with names, yeah?” You say yours, sticking a hand out and feeling like an idiot until he takes it in his grasp, the touch of him easily making you feel faint. He leans down, and yeah, you’re gone, gone forever, to be buried because what pretty boy leans down and brings your hand up ever so gently to kiss the back of your knuckles?

“I’m Wilbur,” and you nod, breathless for the rest of time because he fucking stole it, and he smiles, switching hands so when he turned to start walking, your fingers were interlocked and swinging between the two of you. Wilbur, who’s so fucking sweet, sends you a smile as the two of you join the thinning crowd to go find things. “Aren’t there any rides?” He asks, and you give him a look, stopping and pointing behind you. “Seems there is,” the smile, you swear, it’ll be ingrained in your memory as the best thing you’ll ever see. The ride in question happened to be the staple of this festival. The ferris wheel. “Do you want to go on it with me?” He stops the two of you from walking into the line, “I don’t want to force you into doing something you don’t want to do.” The serious look is just as pretty as his smiles but you nod.

“If you don’t get on the ride with me, I’ll assume you hate me or that you kick puppies, one or the other,” you say, while stepping into the line and he’s quick to follow you, almost toppling you over and you have to laugh, steady him with one of your hands on his shoulders.

“I wanted to make it clear that neither of those things are true- you know, I don’t- I think kicking puppies is unforgivable and one of the worst things you can do.” He says and you peek at him through the corner of your eye.

“That so?”

“Yes, so.”

“So does that mean you like me?” You ask, accepting the help to get into the capsule, smiling at the attendant briefly before turning to Wilbur, holding your breath in as you offer your hand, your knees weak for what’s about to happen next.

He sees and beams at you, sliding his hand into yours as if the two of you were made for nothing else, as if there could’ve been anything else in the world you were made for. Thousands of years in the making and it’s come to feeling his thumb swipe over your own, nothing else made more sense than now. The ride begins to move and your grip on him tightens.

“Are you sure you wanted to go on this ride?” He asks, noticing you refused to look down, or anywhere really, it was easier to space out for a quick second while you were moving. “We could’ve gone to another one,” he assures you but you shake your head, trying to send him a reassuring smile.

“I appreciate it, I do, but I really did want to go on this ride with you. Mostly because you wanted to go on it. I just don’t- I don’t do well with heights.” And he hums before carefully moving, moving as not to rock the capsule. He sits facing you and squeezes your hand, managing to get you to look at him.

“Tell me about Seff.” He says and you stammer.

“He’s a friend-”

“-yes, he’s married, but you looked close, like siblings. Tell me about him, I meant it when I said I wanted to know you.”

And so you tell him all about Seff, your good friend and yes, he also happens to be closer than siblings you ever could have. You tell him about the stupid things he does, things that frustrate you and things that make you afraid you’ll never be a good enough friend for him. The conversation shifts and by the time the ride has gone twice in a circle and lets you two off, you’re certainly shocked. Surprised. Whatever word is best, it’s what you are because he still smiles at you and helps you out and holds your hand and points at a game with plenty of plush prizes to win. Still not over how he helped you through the ferris wheel, you’re happy to be gifted a stuffed bear, one with a bow on it.

Following the winning of your bear, it was heard that the light show would begin so you helped him find a spot in the grass, the two of you sat close as you watched the sky and waited, the sound of laughter, talking and the music playing combined with the smell of food was enough to keep the silence between you two happy. You honestly could not have thought of a better way to spend your night, because no offense Seff, but after his wife would arrive, you would spend the rest of the night as a third wheel or alone. Neither sounded fun. And to be fair, Wilbur is wonderful company. One that’s one you a bear.

So the two of you are sitting, content in the silence when Wilbur opens his mouth and begins to speak when there’s a loud noise and then fireworks in the sky, children starting to scream and laugh louder, running with sparklers. You startled in that moment, not because of the noise, but because of the way he sought out your hand immediately, holding it tightly.

You turn to look at him fully, watching the lights flash on his face, how they light up every feature you’ve come to adore in the time you’ve known him. He doesn’t turn to you for a moment, waiting to look you in the eye and you save him a gentle smile of your own.

“You were here for the last festival, weren’t you?” The last festival, you were afraid, didn’t have a good ending like this one might have.

He looks at you, eyes searching for something in your face before exhaling and nodding. “I saw- I saw it happen.” You squeeze his hand.

“Me too.” The look he sends you is heartbreaking, his beautiful brown eyes almost watering, enough for you to let go of the bear for a moment, to scoot closer and hold his hand with both of yours. “And it’s okay, it’s been a year and nothing has happened yet.” You repeated exactly what Seff told you at the beginning, told him what soothed you and you hold his hands as he holds both of yours. You ignore the show for him, making sure he’s breathing right, that he’s doing a little better than when the show started.

And closer to the end, he turns to look at you, your face closer than before and you wonder what he has in mind. He leans in closer to you, his gaze focused on something lower on your face before he meets your eyes, smiling briefly before squeezing your hand again. “I want to know you more, and if you’re okay with it, completely okay with it, would you be okay to exchange numbers?” You let out a breath of air, laughing slightly as you untangle one of your hands.

“Hand your phone over.”

It’s a matter of seconds before the device sits in your palm, cool to the touch and you find the lead singer laughing with him on the lockscreen. He unlocks the phone and leans his head against yours as you add your contact information. Before you could stop yourself, you opened the camera and held it away from the two of you smiling, nerves shot as he hid his face against your hair, tickling your neck. You take it while laughing to yourself. “You’re too cute,” you say offhandedly, moving to confirm the picture not even realizing what you said, till he pulls back and makes you breathless for the countless times you’ve seen him smiling.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks even though both of you are more than aware how he heard you in the snack vendor line, practically shouting how you found him pretty.

“I take it back, you need a bag to cover,” you gesture to his face, “all of that.” You say with a half-hidden smile and he whines, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a pout. Then he taps your fingers and asks for your phone.

And he saves himself to your phone with a picture of him smiling and you just barely hiding your face in his shoulder, protesting how you didn’t want to be in it just like he did. You smile at the picture before also putting your phone away. “Well,” you look around, “the show is almost over, was there anything else you wanted to do before leaving?” You could’ve sworn his eyes dipped to trace the bottom of your face before flicking back up to your stare, but then he was smiling again, that damned smile, and shaking his head.

“This is possibly one of the best nights I’ve had in a while…” and when he trails off, he reaches for your hand. “Thank you for that.”

“I didn’t do much, honestly,” you squirm under the sincerity, but he takes none of it, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight. And he keeps going, talking about this or that, but your brain blanks out after being hugged, you could smell the soap on his skin, a hint of cologne and deodorant and it makes your head spin. How does he do it? Smell so good and look so pretty? When he pulls back, you try for a smile.

Nothing else happens, he helps you stand to your feet and interlocks a few of your fingers with his, guiding you back to the area where you parked, guiding him to it with your stuffed bear tucked in your elbow. He’s so kind to open the back door and buckle your bear in, patting his fuzzy forehead with a gentle head. When he comes out of it and you shut the door, the two of you just stare at each other. “This was, really, a good night,” Wilbur starts and you agree. “Text me when you get home safely?” You nod and before you can process it, he steps into your space, almost crowding you against your car. He leans in, closer than before, his nose just barely touching yours with the two of you experiencing the fan of the other’s breath.

Then he moves away from your face, slightly, and presses one soft kiss to your cheek, lingering close for a few seconds before he leans away. He holds your hand and squeezes and then another firework goes off and he looks away.

“I’ll see you around.” He promises and then lets go of your hand, walking away slowly till he has to turn around and keep moving forward. Walking away till you can’t see him, blending into the crowd on the sidewalk. Still, you can’t help but watch the crowd move for a moment more. Wondering if you’d see your pretty boy.

… “Oh that was too cheesy, get a fucking grip, you simp.” You groan to yourself, slapping a hand to your forehead before getting into the car and starting the engine. And when you open your phone later that night, when you can still feel his lips against your cheek, skin burning where they once were, you send him a text. A simple one, telling him you’re in bed and wondering if he made it home safely too.

Despite having work in the morning, you refuse to go to bed without seeing a response. And despite the good night and the kiss he left you with, you never receive one.

Clocking out and checking your phone, you sigh when you see that the text is still on delivered. Part of you wants to hope that he just lost his phone or meant to respond but forget but you’ve gone through this before. You’ve had great nights with perfect gentlemen who made your heart flutter and made you feel special and seen. And you’ve had to pull your heart and head together when they never spoke to you again. You just have to come to terms that Wilbur, your pretty boy, is one of those guys. Only to be remembered with great care.

You try to console yourself in the car, trying to tell yourself that it’s okay you may never get to see him. That he might not have meant it when he wanted to know you, when he wanted to see you again. When he lets you put yourself in his phone and himself in yours just to never look at it again.

You stare down at the picture and somehow, you can’t bring yourself to delete the contact information. You’re tired from work and the lack of sleep and the lack of response, it’s time to go home.

(With it being so late in the day, with so little energy, it’s a wonder how you get home safe but that’s also probably due to the eyes watching you at the moment. Probably.)