#when your sketch looks nothing like the idea in your head

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Break in the Chaos

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by art burnout, the reader (you) reluctantly takes a break when Alastor creates a calming escape. Through his unconventional help, you find the peace she needs to regain focus and clarity.

A/N- REQUESTED BY: @jormungandr-42, I hope you like <3 !!

You were an artist, an artist whose work was more of a side job in addition to helping Charlie manage the hotel. It was something you enjoyed, and you made a little cash while doing it. You could call it a hustle. Today, though, it wasn’t your favorite. You had so many commissions to get done, and you were still staring at a blank canvas.

Needless to say, it had been a long day, and the dim light in your room had been flickering as you stared at the pile of crumpled art commissions and scrapped ideas scattered across your desk. Your hand trembled slightly as you picked up your pencil, only to let it fall back down with a sigh. You were mentally exhausted. You spun slowly in your desk chair, the rhythmic motion trying to soothe your frazzled mind, but it did nothing to calm the pressure mounting inside you.

As you glanced up at the ceiling, as if praying for answers from the old, faded painting above your desk, you could feel the tension in your shoulders, the stress building like an unstoppable force. How could you possibly finish all of this? You thought, feeling the weight of every brushstroke and sketch.

From the doorway, a familiar voice broke through the silence. "Well, well, well, my dear. It seems like you’re in quite the... predicament," Alastor said with his signature smugness, his eyes gleaming with mischief as always. His presence filled the room with that unsettling yet strangely comforting energy.

You groaned and spun in your chair again, this time more forcefully. "Yeah, no kidding, Alastor. I’ve got a mountain of commissions to do, and I can’t even pick up a pencil without feeling like I'm drowning," you muttered. Frustration and a hint of tiredness were clear in your voice. Alastor chuckled, and his grin widened.

“Oh, darling, you do know how to make things sound dramatic. Perhaps you need a little... help?" Alastor was still standing in the doorway, leaning forward with his claws resting in front of him on his microphone. You could tell there was curiosity and amusement in his tone, and you didn’t even have to look.

"Help?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you spun in your chair again. "You’re not helping. You’re just standing there and watching me," you snapped, clearly agitated. "I need to finish this, not have you stand there being all... mysterious and making everything worse." You leaned back more in the chair, which made a noise. You could feel the heat in your cheeks from how annoyed you were, and the last thing you needed was Alastor being his usual teasing self.

Alastor raised an eyebrow and gave you a mock pout, though he still wasn’t hiding his amusement. “Oh, how tragic. I do so enjoy your fiery spirit, but surely you can’t deny that my mere presence is quite enthralling?”

Finally, picking up your head, you shot him a pointed glare. “You know, if you actually helped me with these damn commissions instead of making sarcastic remarks, I wouldn’t be losing my mind right now!”

His response was only a thoughtful hum, his hands now behind his back. “You do seem a bit... overwhelmed, dear. Perhaps you need a different kind of assistance.” Was he flirting with you? Or were you being delusional? Maybe you were just tired. The only response you could muster was a huff, and you turned away from him back to that blank canvas, feeling the pressure of burnout press down harder. “I don’t need help with anything, Alastor. I just need to finish these. But I can’t focus. I feel like I’m going crazy.”

The room fell silent for a long moment, and maybe, just maybe, for a split second, you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Alastor would say something useful. But instead, you felt a sudden weight lift off your shoulders as the air shifted slightly, the tension easing just enough for you to breathe.

You blinked and looked back at him. He was now somehow in front of you. His smile was softer than usual. "Perhaps the real help you need... is a little time away from all this pressure. A moment to breathe and find that spark again," Alastor suggested.

As much as you hated admitting it, he might have had a point. You were running yourself ragged, drowning in commissions, almost forgetting why you loved art in the first place. “…Maybe,” you sighed, feeling the exhaustion seep deeper into your bones. "But what do you know about taking a break, huh? You’re always on."

Alastor chuckled. “Even a demon needs a moment to catch their breath now and then, darling.” You sat there for a moment, your gaze falling back to your desk. The mess of unfinished art sat in front of you, but something about Alastor’s presence made it seem less insufferable. Maybe a break wouldn’t be the worst thing after all. “…Fine, maybe I’ll take a little break,” you grumbled, slumping in your chair, though you couldn’t fully suppress the hint of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Excellent choice, my dear. I’d be more than happy to help you unwind.” Alastor smiled. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Ridiculously helpful," he quipped back, giving you a theatrical bow. You shook your head, but at least, for the moment, the weight of artistic burnout seemed just a little lighter. Alastor hovered nearby and watched your every move like a hawk. Although you agreed you would take a break, you were still sitting at your desk. He knew you were hesitant. "A true break requires more than just stepping away from your work for a few seconds. It’s all about a change of scenery... and atmosphere."

You eyed him warily. “What are you getting at?” Alastor snapped his fingers, and the room shifted. The cluttered, dim space morphed into something entirely different—a cozy, dimly lit parlor with plush chairs and a warm, inviting atmosphere. A crackling fire roared in the hearth, casting a soft glow over the room. A velvet chaise lounge appeared next to a small table.

You blinked in surprise, half-expecting the room to revert back to your messy space. But it didn’t. The warmth of the fire and the soft scent of something sweet filled the air. The tension in your shoulders loosened just a fraction. You had to admit, the sudden shift was… oddly soothing.

“What… what is this?” you asked, incredulous.

“A perfect place to take a proper break,” Alastor replied smoothly, his grin never wavering.

"A little relaxation before you dive back into the trenches of your art. After all, you need a clear mind to continue, don’t you?” Alastor said, and you just stood there and looked at him. Why was he helping?

“You underestimate the power of comfort, my dear. It’s just as important as hard work. Without it, one can easily crumble beneath the weight of their own expectations.” You raised an eyebrow at him, suddenly noticing the hint of sincerity in his words. You hadn’t expected that from the Radio Demon, who was often more interested in his own amusement than anyone else’s troubles. “You value my well-being? I thought you just liked watching me run myself ragged.”

Alastor smirked. “Oh, I do find your struggles... entertaining, yes. But that doesn’t mean I want you to break under the pressure, dear. Where would the fun be in that? If you’re unable to perform at your best, how could you give me your finest work?” He gave a dramatic sigh. “Such a disaster that would be.”

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“That’s what you love about me,” he replied with a grin.

“Alright,” you said, settling further into the chaise, “I’ll admit it. This is nice.” You glanced at Alastor, who was still watching you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “But it doesn’t fix my art block.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it gives you the space to fix it. Sometimes, the best ideas come when you’re not drowning in stress. Just remember, you’re allowed to rest. And when you’re ready to go back, your mind will be clearer, your hands steadier.”

“I hate to say it,” you murmured, staring into the flames, “but you’re right. I needed this. You’re not as useless as I thought.”

Alastor’s grin widened, “A compliment from you? How delightful. I do enjoy helping when I can." You snorted. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t,” he said with a wink. “But perhaps next time, you’ll allow me to help you before you reach the breaking point.”

You just smiled and shook your head and leaned your head back against the head rest, and closed your eyes, taking in the peaceful atmosphere, all thanks to him.. you guessed.

[ranticore]

Hii 🥰 I love your art so so very much and it's inspired me to start drawing again after about a year and a half of nothing. I was wondering if you could do a quick explanation of how you draw creature heads? Even with skull references and stuff I'm having troubles particularly with the eyes / eye placement and cheek areas

hi thank you, i'm happy you've gotten drawing again. i try not to make fully drawn 'here's how i do x' tutorials anymore since realising that i would just be training people to replicate my mistakes and photos really are the best reference

however not many people know HOW to use photorefs so i will show you this thing i made for someone else who asked a similar question in my dms once. step 1 is to discard any hangups you might have about tracing. professionals trace. it's fine.

for an example of what i mean when i say drawn tutorials just teach you how to replicate mistakes: i got the knee visibly wrong in my drawing here lol. but for a guide you get the idea. you basically want to put on x-ray goggles when you're looking at photos. you want to be able to see through the animal and understand 1. the axial skeleton [skull, ribs, spine] first and 2. the appendicular skeleton [pelvis, limbs] secondarily. you want to understand it in a 3D space - see how in my traced sketch, I have blocked out the ribcage as a solid form using contour lines which describe a curve. i didn't draw every individual rib, there's no need. don't get bogged down in the weeds, this drawing should take like 5 minutes max

the reason we are tracing and not just closely referencing is because this saves us from also having to worry about getting angles & proportions right. we will worry about those later. for now we are gaining understanding of how a body is formed without the pressure of having to get it 'right'.

okay so you asked about heads in particular so we'll look at heads. in the thingy above you can see that i traced a kite shape onto the front of the cranium before filling in the snout.

it's a canine and not super interesting but i think they show really well what goes on with the frontal bones. the cheek bones form the two lateral points of a kite shape.

if you start your sketch at the kite shape you can turn it in space

what you are looking for is the kite. the kite is not flat. the kite is the front of the cranium minus the nose/snout etc, it is laid out over a curved surface. you will find the eyes along the horizontal line and the cheekbones tucked under the bottom faces of the kite. the snout/nose/etc emerges from the crosshairs in the middle and the cheekbones follow the outer edge of the kite, but not the jaw. this is how i construct all my faces, human or animal doesn't matter it's all this underneath. using it i can visualise the hidden parts of the face such as the obscured cheekbone

try to find as many different types of animal or human heads as possible and trace the kite onto them. then you will see

[burntoutdaydreamer]

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them

I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.

In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:

(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)

Perfectionism (most common)

What it looks like:

You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"

Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.

Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?

I hate everything I write

Cringing while writing

My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer

Things that can help:

Give yourself permission to suck

Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft

Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later

People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later

Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing

Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase

Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail

It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page

Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)

What it looks like:

Head empty, no ideas

What do I even write about???

I don't have a plot, I just have an image

Want to write but no story to write

Things that can help:

Google writing prompts

If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out

Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that

It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing

Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them

If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later

Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)

What it looks like:

I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt

Writing words feels like pulling teeth

I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted

I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window

Things that can help:

Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.

Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text

Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score

Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group

Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph

Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer

Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)

What it looks like:

I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop

I don't even know where to start

I love writing, but I can never seem to get started

I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)

Can't find the time or energy

Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)

Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying

Things that can help:

Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started

Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)

Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person

Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement

The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))

What it looks like:

I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene

I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going

I don't think I'm doing this right

What's an outline?

Drowning in documents

This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)

Things That Can Help:

Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working

A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go

If you don't have an outline, write one

If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it

You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural

Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them

Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers

Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough

Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism

What it looks like:

Everything in boredom/understimulation

Everything in intimidation/procrastination

You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism

Things that can help:

If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment

Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)

Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support

Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch

Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)

And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness

What it looks like:

You have symptoms of burnout or depression

Struggling with all things, not just writing

It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead

Things that can help:

Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.

Seek professional help

If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic

[starless-nightz]

Remember me

note -> ACT 3 SPOILERS!!! I am NOT okay!

parts -> part one | [part two]

pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader

summary -> You will always remember them.

warnings -> mentions of death.

content includes -> angst, death, suicidal thoughts, Vi and Ekko appear.

Life with Jinx and Isha felt perfect in a way you never thought possible.

The three of you spent most of your days hidden away in your workshop or Jinxs lair because of her wanted status. But you never minded it. If anything, you cherished the quiet moments the three of you shared.

Your days together were filled with laughter and creativity—tinkering with inventions, sketching out wild ideas, and playing games that felt like they belonged in a world far kinder than Zaun.

On rare occasions, you’d venture out into the Undercity together, blending into its chaos and finding moments of joy in its grim corners.

And at night, when everything settled, you’d find yourself lying between them. Isha’s small frame curled up beside Jinx, and Jinx’s breath soft, her head laying on your shoulder.

You’d look at them, the two people who had somehow become your entire world, and feel a warmth in your chest.

In those moments, you let yourself believe it could last. That the three of you could stay like this forever—safe, whole, and happy.

But Zaun isn't a place for dreams.

And you were wrong.

You were so, so wrong.

————

It all happened so fast.

In one moment you were fighting alongside Jinx and in the next Isha was running towards Vander, Jinxs gun held tightly in her small hands.

You knew what she was going to do as she put two more hextech gemstones in the gun, and Jinx knew it very well too.

You two tried to get to her, calling out her name, trying to stop her from doing it, but you two were stopped by Vi, pulling you both back as you two despreatly called for the little girl.

The only thing you could do in that moment was watch as Isha shot a finger gun at you two before firing the real gun upwards, closing her eyes, feeling at peace knowing she was protecting you two.

And your world slowly started shattering into tiny pieces.

————

You knew you couldn't do anything.

You know you couldn't save her.

Jinx has already accepted her fate a long time ago, she wasn't scared of death and she made peace with it.

"Always with you sis." Jinx said as Vi tried to pull her up. Jinx quickly removed the hextech gemstone from Vis gauntlets, making them power off and letting Jinx go.

Jinx looked at you with a small smile on her face as she started fallling. You screamed her name as you watched her fall before an explosion went off.

And in that moment your whole world shattered into tiny pieces.

————

"Is there anything so undoing as a family?" you whispered, your words barely audible over the soft hum of Piltover below.

Your knees were brought up close to your chest, arms wrapped tight around them as your fingers absently traced the jagged edges of the bomb's shattered metal head of the bomb that had taken her life.

Vi and Ekko sat beside you in silence, their gazes fixed on the distant glow of the city. Neither of them said a word, and you couldn't bring yourself to fill the void.

They didn't know you well, not really; just a shared face in their grief, a faint reflection of their own shattered hearts. But in this moment, words didn't matter.

Each one of you had lost the most significant person in your life that day. A single point of light went out in a way that no amount of tears, anger, or revenge would ever balance.

Jinx was gone.

And nothing would ever bring her back.

————

You knew your couldn't bring Jinx and Isha back, you know that the hole in your heart will never disappear.

You stood in Jinxs destroyed lair, holding onto one of her explosions as you looked down into the abyss.

You didn't want to live anymore, there was no reason for you to be alive. The only two people that made your life worth living for were gone, and you couldn't bring them back.

You wanted to end your life.

But before you could leap from the ledge a voice stopped you, making your ears perk up.

"Whatcha doing, toots?"

[valleyofheartz]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

University AU

Pairing: Volleyball player!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Artist!F!Reader

angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, FWB to lovers, angst with a happy ending

WC: 9.7k

Synopsis: Falling in love with the pretty volleyball player in your first year of University wasn’t something you intended to happen; it just did. And then, two years later, the line between lust and love blurs. You want him beyond his body, but does he want every side of you? A part of you liked to think so, but Sakusa Kiyoomi is known for crushing hearts, and make no mistake, you were no exception.

Content/Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, FWB relationship, graphic descriptions of blood/knives/wounds/organs (nothing actually happens), subtle hints of depression/anxiety, jealousy, curse words, one scene with a creep but its vague, pls lmk if I missed anything!

two August’s ago, you fell in love.

you remember laughing till tears cascaded down your rosy cheeks, face hurting from smiling so much. you remember soft touches; on your hand as you reached for the same item, on your waist when you squeezed by, on the corner of your mouth when you don’t seem to notice the crumbs that coat your lips. you remember a gentle smile, eyes crinkling the slightest bit as your heart stutters in your chest. you remember dark curly hair, mole kissed skin and eyes brimming with affection.

you remember everything.

bright, giddy, and curious, you entered university with dreams larger than the sun. your passion for art made you yearn. you wanted to draw everything beautiful. you’d sit by the tree near your campus library and draw for hours, music blaring through your headphones as you sketched pretty items, pretty scenery, and pretty people in your book.

it was under the tree you found your muse.

you recall forgetting to bring something to tie your hair with, leaving it to fall in your face when the the wind hit a little too hard. you squinted, frowning as you moved the strands out of your sight.

and then, as if entranced, you see the prettiest student walk towards the library. it’s like everything is suddenly moving slower. he’s clad in a- sports jacket? with your school logo, and black shorts to match. he has a gym bag hung on his right shoulder, but you find yourself more focused on the thick locks on his head and soft slope of his nose. his lips are full, pretty and pink. the slight chill from the air must be the reason why his cheeks are tinted as well, and your hands itch with the urge to draw this mythical being.

(first-year you was a little dramatic, but present you still understands her.)

you draw a rough sketch of him the moment he leaves, but you know had you had more time to look, you would’ve done a much better job.

✾

the second time you see him is at a party.

you had forgotten about the pretty boy as the days went on, more focused with school and handing in assignments. exams arrived, and then you were on break. your friends had begged you to show up, with promises of it being a fun experience even if all you wanted to do was curl up under the covers and sleep all day.

you end up wearing a cute outfit, somewhat revealing yet covering the parts you wanted to. your hair is styled with shiny clips that match your makeup. you feel pretty, and even though you initially did not want to go out, you think this might be a good idea.

“Y/n, let me know if you want to leave early, okay? And don’t drink anything random people offer you.” Kuroo grabs your arm, tone serious. you want to laugh at the usually silly guy being so protective of you.

you smile, “I know, father. No need to worry about me, it’s just my first party.”

Akaashi beside you ruffles your hair, “He has a reason to be worried, you’re a little too sweet for your own good.”

you scrunch up your nose, mentally disagreeing. you could certainly be mean. but they had yet to see you at your worst, so this made sense. you decide to let them keep this image of you.

Bokuto barrels forward, knocking into your back as you stumble into Kuroo’s arms. he catches you with ease, sending a glare towards his friend.

“Watch it, are you drunk already?”

Bokuto grins, “Pre-gamed a little too hard! My bad, bro.” he pauses, looking at you, “And the lady-bro.”

you stifle a giggle at his words, focusing on the warmth that emits from Kuroo. you suddenly regret wearing something that showed more skin, knowing you got cold easily.

“Tetsu, can we get drinks?” you grab his bicep gently as he looks down.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just say hi to some of the guys and we’ll go.” he waits for Akaashi to come to your other side before walking, with you squashed between them.

you roll your eyes, what was up with them? it was your first time attending a university party, not your first time at a club.

you greet people mindlessly, and they all seem nice enough. you get restless after twenty minutes though, really wanting a drink. you tug Kuroo’s shirt gently, waiting for him to turn to you.

“I’m gonna go get a drink, you want anything?”

he frowns, “I’ll come, give me a sec.” he doesn’t wait for a response before excusing himself from his friends. they all wave him off as he guides you to another room in the house, which is more secluded.

you find the table, filled with all sorts of stuff you were unfamiliar with. one of Kuroo’s friends stands by, and you assume he’s keeping an eye on the beverages to ensure nobody spikes them with anything.

Kuroo gives him a quick nod before reaching for a bottle. he must know what he’s doing, however, as he pours you a mixture of two drinks before handing it to you. you take it with narrowed eyes, lifting it to your nose and oh, it smells fruity enough.

you down it in one go, looking back at Kuroo’s slackened jaw. you bark out a loud laugh, before covering it with your hand. “What?”

he shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing. Didn’t know you were so thirsty.”

you shrug in response, mindlessly scanning the room as Kuroo pours himself a drink.

despite the room being half empty, it is still fairly large. you can see a group playing beer pong on the left side, while the ones on the right are laughing loudly as they seemingly discuss something funny.

and then, your eyes land on him.

he’s standing with who you assume is his friend, with their back towards you. he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and the position allows his navy blue shirt to stretch with the muscle. you swallow when your eyes trail down to his slim waist.

broad shoulders and a small waist? surely that had to be illegal.

his black pants are loose, but fit his thighs nicely.

when your eyes go back to his face, you’re once again filled with the urge to pick up your pencil and draw. he’s not smiling, and you have a feeling he doesn’t smile very often, but it doesn’t take away from his beauty. his cheekbones are pretty and prominent, and you wonder how they would feel beneath your palms.

you bite on your bottom lip at the thought, feeling foolish for thinking about a stranger like that.

“Oh? Does my little Y/n have a crush?” a voice croons next to your ear.

you whip your head back with a glare, “Tetsu, no.”

he laughs loudly, head throwing back as he cackles. you frown, scrunching your nose at him even if he’s too busy laughing to see.

“Oh, c’mon cutie, I’m just teasing. Nothing wrong with a little crush, I would just recommend someone a little… nicer.” he says, out of breath as a grin stretches on his face.

you tilt your head, “Huh? You know him?“

Kuroo ruffles your hair gently, with you moving to fix it immediately.

“We aren’t close, but I do know him since he’s on the same team as me,” Kuroo smiles at the wide eyed look you give him. “i’d say i’m closer with his friend over there.”

when you glance back to the pair, you find that the pretty boy has his eyes on you.

your heart jumps, your body shivering as you snap your eyes back to Kuroo.

what the fuck? maybe you hallucinated that.

“Oh, your man is looking here.”

maybe not.

“Hey, want me to introduce you? Who knows, you might be able to defrost his heart.” he smirks, with you shaking your head to disagree. “No, thank you. I’m not going to defrost his heart like he’s some piece of frozen raw meat.”

he huffs out a laugh, turning into a cough when his eyes partially widen. “Well, you should prepare yourself, they’re both coming here right now.”

you look at Kuroo with an incredulous expression, “You’re fucking lying.”

“Such a foul mouth, cutie.” he lifts his hand up and looks beside you, “Hey, man.” he waves. he nods at the pretty boy next, who you assume nods back.

you finally allow yourself to look away from Kuroo and at the two new men in front of you. they’re both tall, but thankfully you’re used to being surrounded by tall men due to your friends.

you smile at the friend and glance at the pretty boy for a second, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” you’re thankful you manage to sound stable.

“I’m Adriah.” his friend says with a half grin. it’s boyish and charming, but you’re more concerned with the curly-haired guy beside him. your eyes dart to his next, anticipating an introduction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

his voice is deep, it’s almost alluring. it reminds you of the dark chocolate you often pick up from the convenience store beside your dorm; bitter but comforting.

you always loved dark chocolate.

the thought makes your heart do a funny thing and your chest seize up.

✾

a year and a half later, you kiss Sakusa Kiyoomi for the first time.

you’re close friends by now, perhaps even best friends. you know him like the back of your hand; no, you know better than you know yourself.

you know his arms are covered in beauty marks, ones you’d like to trace with your lips. you know how his hair looks when he first awakens, eyes swollen and lips puffed out in a pout. you know his favorite food, and how he likes his coffee in the morning. you know he sighs through his nose when he’s feeling overstimulated, you know his lips press together when he’s about to say something mean. you know he crosses his arms when he feels like he needs to protect himself, you even know the brand of disinfecting wipes he prefers to buy.

you know he has a dimple on his left cheek when he smiles, you know how his lips stretch out all pretty when he’s caught off guard. you know the low timbre in his chest when he laughs, his thick steel walls suddenly nowhere to be seen as he allows himself to relax.

“Kiyo, please? I really want to go, and nobody else wants to come!” you beg, voice sad as you sit on the edge of his bed.

it’s 12:00PM, and Kiyoomi is still laying in bed. you understand, it is a Saturday, but you wanted to go out and visit the cat cafe with supposedly amazing tiramisu.

the lump on the bed barley moves, “Oh great, so I’m your last choice. I’ll pass.”

you smile, giggling. “No, you were my first choice, but you said no so I asked other people and they also refused, so now I came back to you!”

he lifts the covers, sitting up. he’s shirtless, and the sight of his bare body covered in pretty beauty marks makes your brain short-circuit. you turn away, huffing. “Put on a shirt you… perv.”

you hear a pretty laugh then, your head immediately turning back to catch the rare sight. he shakes his head, small grin still on his face, “I’m the perv? Not the one who’s red in the face and can’t even look me in the eye?”

you blink harshly, “I can look at you! I’m just… respecting your boundaries.”

you turn away again, crossing your arms. you hear the covers on the bed shuffle, and when you slowly turn around, you find yourself much closer to Kiyoomi than you thought.

you blink, moving to give him space and tumbling off the bed in the process with a yelp. he grabs you with wide eyes, moving so he takes the brunt of the fall.

you land on top of him, watching as he groans in pain below you. your hands are resting on his broad shoulders, and they feel smooth beneath your hands.

he sighs, laying his head on the floor. he looks up at you through lidded eyes. “So what now, genius? You made us fall.”

you shoot him a dirty look, “Well nobody told you to fall with me.”

“This is the ‘thank you’ I get? Next time I’ll let you get hurt, brat.” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

you pout, bottom lip pushing out. “You’d let me fall and get hurt?”

he stares at you intently, not answering. you take the time to observe his face, wanting to burn the memory into your brain. you like the small bump on his nose. you like the way his bottom lip is slightly bigger than the top. you like the way his skin turns red easily, his cheeks often sporting a pretty blush even from the slightest chilly air. you like his thick curly hair, wondering how it would feel in your hands. you like his eyes too, dark and swirling with emotions you’ve yet to unravel and discover.

suddenly realizing your proximity, your eyes dart to his lips. plush and full, they look so inviting. you subconsciously lick your bottom lip, glancing up to find his eyes are also on your mouth. and when he finally looks you in the eye, you know if you don’t make a move now, you never will.

you lean in, slowly, and with a gentle exhale, you press your lips to his.

✾

a month later, you have sex with Kiyoomi.

it comes naturally, you think. soft kisses shared with hushed whispers were no longer enough. it led to heated touches and lust-filled eyes.

so when the two of you end up going further, you have no complaints.

he treats you exactly how you’d like, gentle in some ways and rough in others. you like the feel of his calloused hands caressing your skin, the rough bumps making him more attractive than you already thought he was.

and then you’re laying in bed, sweaty and covered in fluid. but his mattress is so comfortable, and your eyelids feel heavy.

“Y/n, we need to shower.”

“One minute.” you mumble quietly.

you feel a hand gently move hair out of your face, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his palm. it’s gone before you can speak, and you have to force the whine down your throat.

you hear a sigh, and then feel a strong arm slide underneath your knees with the other behind your back as you are lifted into the air.

you squeak, hands scrambling to latch onto his neck. you look up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes, “Seriously, Kiyo? I can still walk, you jackass.”

he shakes his head with a small grin, and your hands itch to grab his face and kiss him senseless. “Are you sure you can walk? I’m not sure you can after all that.”

you change your mind, you want to slap him senseless.

“Ha-ha. So. Funny.” you deadpan, unable to help yourself and breaking into a smile when you feel his shoulders shake as he chuckles.

when the two of you are in bed, freshly washed and ready to sleep, Kiyoomi breaks your heart for the first time.

you’re laying your head on his chest, heartbeat steady and comforting as it almost lulls you to sleep.

his voice pulls you back, “Y/n,”

you hum in response.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand, I care about you, but I’m not looking for anything serious right now.” the words are spoken softly, but they cut through your heart nonetheless.

your body freezes, and you have to force yourself to relax when you realize he can feel it.

so what if Kiyoomi isn’t ready to date? you’re okay with kissing him, going out with him, and sleeping with him. you’re okay with that and not having a label. you’re okay with not being exclusive.

you’re okay with having him to this extent.

you’re okay.

“I understand. Don’t worry, Kiyoomi.”

✾

five months later, everything is the same.

and yet, nothing is the same.

“I don’t like this, Y/n. I think you should break things off with him.” Kuroo frowns, leaning into Akaashi’s side as he hogs the blanket to himself in the freezing cold apartment.

you pull your own fluffy throw closer, “There’s nothing to break off, Tetsu. There’s no label.”

Bokuto walks in, clad in a black tank top and volleyball shorts. “You can break off this unlabeled arrangement you have, Y/n! Just call it exactly that!” he smiles, hands on his hips standing proudly.

Akaashi coughs, “Bo, please put your air conditioning lower. We’re all going to get sick at this rate.”

Bokuto frowns, hands dropping to his sides. he walks to the thermostat, “Seriously? I think the temperature is fine.”

“That’s because you’re not human, you beast.” Kuroo snorts.

Bokuto turns around, looking scandalized. “I’m not a beast! You two are just weenies!”

you giggle, “Thank you for not including me with them, Kou.”

he salutes you with a cute little grin.

so maybe your friends were against your… situation with Kiyoomi. but you knew what you were doing, and while he might not want a relationship right now, you’re sure you can change his mind over time.

naive, perhaps, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart.

✾

everything comes to a head at one of their volleyball games.

you’re invited, of course. being friends with a few of the boys had allowed you to show up earlier and get seats in the front row.

it’s not your first game, but you’re excited nonetheless.

until you see Kiyoomi with someone unfamiliar.

she’s pretty, almost unearthly pretty. her hair is long, and cascades down her back like those magical waterfalls one would find deep in the forest. her smile is perfect, not crooked in the slightest. and when she greets him, her dainty hand smoothes over the skin of his arm; you walk faster.

Kuroo greets you first, with Akaashi and Bokuto coming behind him. you give them all your best wishes, but you can’t stop the uneasy feeling in your stomach at the sight of Sakusa with that girl.

when Akaashi sees your line of sight, he grimaces sympathetically. “Ah, that’s one of his friends from high school.”

your eyes shoot to his, and you wonder what expression you’re showing, because he comes closer and wraps you in a hug. you release a breath at the touch, letting yourself relax as he pats your back.

when you go to greet Sakusa, the girl is still there.

she’s sticking to him like a leech.

you try to get rid of the rude thoughts as you approach. she didn’t deserve your jealousy, nobody did. because you did this to yourself.

“Hi, Kiyo.” you smile.

he smiles back at you, and though it is small, it’s there. something in you settles when you think about how far the two of you have gotten.

the girl beside him is looking at the two of you curiously, but all you do is give her an awkward grin and turn back to Kiyoomi.

“Um, I just wanted to say good luck. I have a surprise for you, i’ll give it to you after the game.”

he raises a brow, intrigued. “You can’t give it to me now?”

you huff out a laugh. “No, silly. It’s a reward for you playing today. I know you’ll do well regardless of the outcome.”

his face smoothes out as he nods, “Okay, I’ll be waiting then.”

without another word you wave and turn around, walking to the seats and taking one in the front. you feel odd being the first to leave, but it was clear that the girl was not going to her seat until the game started. and while you’d like to talk to Kiyoomi more, you know you have to control yourself before you do something stupid like show him your jealousy.

the game goes by quickly, with your university winning the match. you cheer loudly, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. it’s times like these that you truly cherish the joy in life. even though you hadn’t played in the game yourself, you can practically feel the positive energy radiating off of the players, and it fills you with excitement.

you run down and across the court, moving to hug your friends as you congratulate them.

“Y/n are you going to come with us to get dinner? Please say yes!” Bokuto widens his eyes, bottom lip curling into a pout.

you smile, happy to be included but knowing you have to decline. “Sorry, Kou. I already have plans with Kiyoomi. Can we raincheck?”

he nods sadly, and Akaashi pats him on the back in consolation.

“Have fun at dinner! I’m going to find Kiyoomi.” you wait till they exit the gymnasium before turning around and looking for the tall dark-haired man you were enamored with.

you can’t seem to find him through the crowd and the thought has you frowning anxiously. you stumble inside the group of people, breathing out when you finally see the end of the mob. with another exhale, you look up.

you see red.

because there is Kiyoomi, with the small pretty girl in his arms as she wraps her own around his neck. their faces lean in together, and if you didn’t know any better you’d assume they were about to kiss.

without even knowing what you’re doing, you march right up and grab his arm, tugging him into you with as much force as you can muster.

he looks down at you with wide eyes, and even though his hair is damp with sweat and his shirt is sticking to his skin, you find him to be the prettiest in the room.

suddenly realizing how this looked, you let go of his arm and step back. “What were you two doing?” you ask, voice soft yet loud enough for him to hear. the crowd has begun to disperse, leaving only the team and their friends in the gymnasium.

the girl looks awkward, glancing between you and Kiyoomi before taking a step back. “Uh, I’m gonna get going now. I’ll text you later, ‘Omi.”

your eye twitches at the nickname, and when Kiyoomi simply nods at her, you feel like you’re losing your mind.

he says nothing to you as he moves to pack his things, stuffing his towel in his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even glance at you as he walks out, with you trailing after him like a lost puppy.

the walk to his apartment is short, but because of the silence it feels much longer; much more painful, like every step is with your bare foot onto glass.

when you finally arrive at his place, he shuts the door and tosses his gym bag to the side before turning to you.

“Want to explain what that was?” his face is cold, and the uncaring way he speaks to you makes you nervous.

you swallow, “Shouldn’t you explain? Why were her arms… Why did it look like you two were dating, or something? Why did you let her touch you like that?”

he chuckles, though it has none of the sweetness that it is normally laced with. “Why the fuck does it matter? You’re not my girlfriend.”

surprisingly, the words don’t hurt as much as you thought they would. no, you knew that already. what really makes your skin burn is the way he looks at you.

you feel dread creep up on you, goosebumps arising on your skin as you shiver. the look in his eyes is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the normally fond gaze you are granted with.

maybe that’s why it twists the metaphorical knife that is lodged in your stomach, scarlet blood seeping out as the squelch rings in your ears. it feels far too real, you can almost see him holding the knife as it digs deeper into your flesh.

“I never liked that about you.”

it's vague, but you feel like you understand what he means regardless. you ask him to clarify despite yourself. “Never liked what?” you whisper. your hands are shaking; you hold them behind your back to conceal it.

“The way you act around me. Like we’re in a loving relationship when really, we’re just friends who sleep together sometimes.” the words spoken are firm, leaving no room for you to even question whether he means them or not.

“I’m sorry?” you sound breathless, asking him to confirm what he had already said.

his eyes darken further, and you swallow harshly at the sight.

“You need me to say more to get it through your thick skull?” he scoffs, furious, and the sound cuts into your already wounded heart.

“I don’t like the way you coddle me. I don’t appreciate when you give me your opinions on things you know nothing about.” he pauses. you wait with bated breath, wondering how much more your heart could take.

“And, god, I really fucking hate when you show up at my games and smother me in front of everyone. It’s uncomfortable, and then you put me on the spot and act like you’re my fucking girlfriend.”

it feels like someone has plunged their hand through your chest, tearing you apart as they grasp onto your beating heart; you can almost picture it, the way the mangled organ thumps erratically as crimson liquid seeps out between their fingers.

you inhale shakily, “I just… I love you, I’m sorry.”

you look up, to see who’s holding your heart hostage.

“I don’t love you. I never have, and I never will.”

it’s him.

and fuck, it’s always him.

✾

two summers from now, Sakusa knows he’ll be playing volleyball professionally, for the first time.

he’ll have finished his fourth year of university, and he will be happy.

happiness.

Sakusa doesn’t exactly understand the emotion. sure, he’s felt anxiety, rage, and satisfaction, but happiness? what did that even entail?

he sits silently, trying to drone out the professors talks of another essay, and suddenly regrets taking a psychology class. because the amount of writing it required was a bit too much, even for him.

and then his thoughts go back to happiness.

oftentimes, Sakusa is told he looks mean; grouchy. and yet, he remembers an old conversation with Atsumu.

“So… you and Y/n?” Atsumu drawled.

Sakusa sighs, moving to pack up his things in the locker room. “It’s not like that, don’t go spreading anything.”

the blond raises his hands in mock surrender, wet hair sticking to his forehead. “Hey! I would never!”

and then he grins, though not as obnoxious as usual. it’s more kind, if anything, and Sakusa doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I’m just saying, ya seem a lot less grumpy these days. Happier.”

Sakusa pauses, staring at the chipped paint on the wall.

Atsumu sighs, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he moves to exit. “She’s good for ya, ‘Omi.” he pats his shoulder twice on his way out. “Don’t fuck it up, man.”

Sakusa stiffens; not at the action, but at his words. he quickly places everything in his bag before zipping it up and heading home.

if he’s a bit dazed at practice the next day, no one says anything.

when Sakusa lays in bed, he recounts the last time he spoke to you.

it’s been two weeks, and even though time has passed, it feels like just yesterday you were standing in his kitchen with your heart on your sleeve, letting him use it however he wished.

he remembers feeling furious at you, for so obviously disrespecting one of his good high school friends. and then you hadn’t even apologized, you’d instead pushed at him even more.

and then… he ruined everything.

he remembers the look on your face, the pure heartbreak in your irises as he carelessly spewed words he knew would hurt you.

it was not surprising when he walked into practice two days later to see glares of contempt by some of his teammates, who he knew were your friends. even Atsumu had looked at him and shook his head, and some part of him burned with shame. his mistakes were on display for everyone to see, and although he wanted to pull his walls even higher, he felt too distraught at the potential loss of you to bother.

he remembers laying in bed that night, finally deciding to break the silence between the two of you. but with a simple, ‘I’m sorry. Can we talk?’ he was able to find out that he was blocked.

he felt ice run through his veins, pausing at the vibrant red letters, spelling Not Delivered. he quickly opened Instagram and Twitter and found you had him removed and blocked there as well.

fuck.

he had really done it now, hadn’t he? he so naively believed that you simply needed space, and once he gave you a sincere apology the two of you could go back to the way things were; that you two could explore whatever non-platonic feelings he was beginning to develop for you.

but once he realizes the gravity of the situation, he wonders what the point is of experiencing love for the first time if it ends here.

it can’t end here.

he makes it his mission to try to meet you.

first he showed up to your Thursday class, knowing it ended at noon and you had a two-hour gap between your next one. he has a coffee in one hand and a freshly baked donut in the other. he drove across town to grab it, knowing it was your favourite. he knows a mere donut cannot make up for what he said to you, but it felt wrong coming empty handed to reconcile with you. not when you deserved everything and more.

except when you see him, you immediately turn and walk in the opposite direction.

the action stings, and he sighs once you are out of view. the bag with the donut in his hand feels heavy, his hand tingling with the rejection. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him so easily, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

I deserve this, he acknowledges.

I deserve this and worse.

it’s the next week when he has the chance to see you again; he knows you’re working, often meeting you at the cafe to pick you up and take you to his place home.

so with a deep breath, he walks in. the door bell chimes loudly, and he curses mentally when he realizes how deserted the place is at the moment. there’s only a few people inside; a man sitting in the corner as he types furiously on his laptop. a woman and two others sitting on the side as they sip on what he assumes is coffee or tea.

and then he looks to the front, where you stand, and your eyes are on him.

the moment he takes a step forward, you stumble back, as if burned. he stops, unsure if he should keep walking or simply say something as he stands ten feet away from you.

unfortunately for him, you seem to come back to reality and swiftly open the door where it explicitly states STAFF. a moment later, one of your coworkers walks out with their customer service smile, and he deflates.

third time’s a charm, he says to comfort himself. but even he knows it won’t be that easy.

it’s friday, and even though he had no idea if you’d be home, he figured it was worth a shot. so that’s how he finds himself at your door, with a bouquet of white Tulips in his arms.

“Hi! Is there anything I can help you with?”

he jumps slightly when he hears a high-pitched voice coming from behind him, turning around and smoothing out his face.

“I’m not sure.” he states quietly.

“That’s okay! Is there anything in specific you’re looking for? A colour, or a meaning, perhaps?”

he frowns; it feels like all he’s been doing is frowning lately. “Uh, maybe something bright? Or… something that symbolizes forgiveness?”

she smiles sympathetically, and he wonders what expression he must be showing to warrant such a response from a stranger.

and that’s how he finds himself here. he shuffles on his feet, clutching the flowers to his chest protectively. with a soft inhale, he raises his fist and knocks.

silence.

he rings the doorbell this time, and still nothing.

he exhales quietly, his head dropping as he stares at the old carpet that covered the hallways in your apartment building. he’s been here so many times with you, but now he sees nothing but the back of your door and he has nobody but himself to blame.

he stands in front of your place for an hour, mindlessly staring at the wall as he recalls his words to you. how you’d handed your heart to him with your bare hands, only for him to treat it as though it meant nothing to him.

so on Sunday, he lays in bed and recounts the last two weeks.

he wants to wallow in self-pity, but then he hears banging on his door and wonders which unlucky soul will encounter his wrath.

he swings the door open, face emotionless and mouth ready to open and hurl insults at the other, until he sees his one and only cousin, Komori.

“Hey man!” his cousin smiles, innocent and happy.

Sakusa hates it.

his shoulders slump as all anger vanishes, exhaustion left in its wake. “What are you doing here, Moyota,”

he walks back to his room as Komori closes the door. “because if you can’t tell, i’m busy.”

Komori snorts, “Busy doing what? Moping?”

Sakusa glares at him, but in his disheveled state he merely looks like a feral wounded puppy. he crawls back under his covers, face smushed inside his pillow as he feels the other side of the bed dip.

“Get your outside clothes off my bed, Moyota.”

he hears a huff before the pressure is gone, and wills himself to sleep.

“Listen, I know you’re upset about what happened with Y/n, but sitting in your sadness won’t get you anywhere.”

Sakusa continues to lay there. “Mhm.”

Komori ignores the dry response, “There’s a party on Friday. You should go.”

“Why should I go to a party? You want me to drink my sorrows away?” his voice comes out muffled but he’s sure Komori can hear him regardless.

“Y/n will be there.”

that gets his attention. he sits up, the covers pooling at his waist as he crosses his arms. “How do you know?” his eyes narrow.

Komori rolls his eyes, “Because, I overheard Kuroo asking her to come on the phone. Something about him finding her someone new to replace you.”

he clenches his fists, feeling the burn of jealousy take over. replace him? he knew you were well-liked in your program, often waving at people whenever the two of you walked together on campus. he was not ignorant of the stares you’d get from fellow students. but it didn’t matter then because he knew his eyes were on you, and yours were on him.

but now everything’s different.

now, your eyes are not solely on him. the thought has his chest hurting in a way that he can only describe as a stabbing pain.

“I’ll go.”

✾

the week passes by too slow for Sakusa, but he knows it’s only because he’s missing you. when friday arrives, he’s feeling somewhat optimistic about meeting you and hopefully reconciling.

he scrunches the products in his hair, freshly washed from the shower. he’s wearing black slacks and a matching button-up. he places a few rings on his hands and moves to dry his hair with a cotton t-shirt once more before exiting his room.

“About time, dude. Why is your hair routine so complicated?” his cousin complains from his place on the couch, looking at him expectantly.

Sakusa grabs his keys on the counter, “My hair isn’t pin-straight, that’s why. Why are you still sitting down, let’s go.”

Komori rises with a shake of his head as he walks to the front door and slips on his shoes. Sakusa waits for him to leave before locking the door and following him to his car.

the drive seems unreasonably fast, and his palms feel sweaty as he wipes them on his pants. he’s suddenly thankful he chose to wear black bottoms.

when he walks inside the house, he’s immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. it’s absolutely disgusting, and he has to remind himself why he’s there as he takes another step forward.

“Let’s go to the back! It’ll be less busy there!” Komori raises his voice, but Sakusa can just barely hear his words. he nods and follows his cousin to another room, breathing out in relief when he notices there are fewer people.

Sakusa subtly shuffles towards an empty corner, knowing Komori is following him. he turns around, leaning on the wall, “These people are revolting. When is Y/n getting here?”

Komori scratches his head, tapping at his phone with one hand. “Not sure, let me check with my friends. I’ll ask where Kuroo is.”

he scowls, “Why would that matter?”

“Because he wouldn’t leave her alone at a party.” Komori shrugs. “They’re real close.”

something in his chest feels tight at his cousins words. you and Sakusa were once close; and if you forgave him, he’d let you be even closer. he just has to apologize and hopefully smooth everything over.

a part of him itches to go and search for you himself. he feels on edge, knowing you are so close yet so far away. it unsettles him, the thought that if you don’t forgive him he’ll have to watch you from afar, and accept that someone will love and care for you all the ways he didn’t.

but - does he love you? he cares for you, immensely at that. but does he love you?

he thinks about your pretty eyes, always filled with affection. he thinks about your ability to make people feel comfortable around you within minutes. he thinks about your small hands, your shy smile, the feeling of your hair when he twirls a lock around his finger as you lay in his bed. he thinks about how you look with the sun seeping through the crack in the curtains, skin glowing and lips slightly parted as you exhale softly.

his heart beat echos in his ears. he feels a flush take over his face and places the back of his hand on his forehead. he suddenly feels hot.

maybe he has a fever? but so suddenly? he swallows, the sound echoing in his head.

and then he finally sees you, drink in hand as you throw your head back and laugh.

his heart beats loudly in his chest.

he places a hand above it, feeling the erratic thumps beneath his palm.

ah.

so he loves you.

-

Sakusa waits.

he waits in the corner, a drink in his hand, courtesy of Komori as he subtly stares at you from across the room.

it’s been about an hour, and you’ve yet to notice him. he cherishes the time, observing you from afar. he watches you giggle and wrap your arms around your friends, the gaping hole you’d left in his heart the moment you walked out of his life grows by the minute.

he’s contemplating what to do when you finally lock eyes with him.

he watches the smile slowly slip off your face, something akin to agony colouring your eyes.

he begins to walk towards you, not breaking eye contact for a second. it's like he's entranced. and when he’s right in front of you, he feels breathless; like your existence has left him at a loss for words.

“Hey.”

his voice comes out rough, and he clears his throat when your lips tug downwards.

your friends are looking at him with distaste, even Bokuto who normally sports a happy grin seems fairly upset. it makes him realize what a huge fuck-up he is.

he shifts on his feet, “Can we talk?”

Kuroo answers for you. “No, you can’t. You’ve said enough to her.” he steps in front of you, shoulders pushed back.

Sakusa feels irritation bubble in his chest, but pushes it down, knowing that Kuroo has a reason to be protective over you.

“I just want to apologize. And, confess something.” his voice comes out more desperate than he thought it would. it sounds fragile, even to his own ears.

Kuroo deflates, if only slightly. “It’s still a no. Find someone else to mess around with.”

“I'm not messing around. I just, I need to talk to her. Please.” the cup in his hand is beginning to bend, the cheap plastic cracking as the drink sloshes around.

Kuroo opens his mouth to what he assumes refuse him again, until a small hand grabs onto his arm and steps in front of him.

he watches as you let go of Kuroo, looking more composed than you had been before.

“It’s okay, Tetsu. I can handle this.” your voice makes his skin tingle. he realizes how much he’s missed it.

Sakusa’s shoulders drop in relief. he feels so happy that you decided to talk to him, he doesn’t even care that your friends are glaring him down.

“But-”

you cut Kuroo off, “Really, it’s fine. I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Kuroo looks like he wants to argue, but you give him a look that has him backing down.

he huffs, “Fine. Just be careful. Call me if he does anything.”

Sakusa stops himself from scoffing, annoyed with Kuroo’s words. what would he do at this point? what could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?

you pat Kuroo on the arm and walk past Sakusa, turning back. “Let’s go.” you don’t wait for a response before continuing, and he follows you without a glance at your friends.

he tries to control his breathing, attempting to keep it steady as you enter the backyard. it’s empty, the chilly night air keeping everyone inside.

you turn around, crossing your arms. “So? You wanted to talk?”

he licks his lips, rubbing his forearm with his hand. he’s thankful that he threw his drink out at the garbage can near the back door. he can feel his hands shaking, and hopes you don’t notice.

“Yeah.” he exhales, “How have you been?”

you shrug, expression guarded. “Fine.”

he nods, expecting the dry answer but still feeling a bit dejected.

“I miss you.”

the words come out so abruptly. the two of you stare at each other in shock, and he almost raises a hand to cover his mouth.

god, why did he just say that?

you laugh, but it comes out less genuine than he’s ever seen. “You should be happy you don’t have someone pretending to be your girlfriend, right?”

his face drops, and he knows whatever expression he’s showing is not as stoic as he thought. because with one glance at his face you look like you almost regret your words.

“I was.. I was so fucking stupid that night. I know you have no obligation to forgive me, but please let me apologize.”

you stare at him silently, before nodding.

Sakusa breathes out, “I’m sorry. Nothing I said was true. I was just… angry. Not at you, at myself. I had been denying how I felt for so long and when you asked me who that girl was, I just lost it.”

he stares at the grass rather than your face, not wanting to know if you look at him with an unforgiving gaze. “I realized that I had unintentionally entered a sort of- relationship with you. I was scared. I still am.”

he lifts his gaze finding your wide eyes. “It was an unintentional relationship, but I wouldn’t have done anything different.”

he pauses, “Of course, except when I ruined everything. I’ve stayed up every night since it happened thinking about how I could have responded differently.” his lips tug up, the expression bitter.

“Because it was after that I realized my feelings for you.”

your brows furrow, your eyes darting around his face in pure confusion. “What are you saying, Sakusa?”

he ignores the ache of you using his last name, “That I have feelings for you.”

the silence is deafening as crickets chirp in the silent night.

“I love you, Y/n.”

you stagger back, as if wounded. you shake your head, “No, no. You don’t love me, Sakusa.”

he doesn’t understand your response. sure, you wouldn’t be elated. he knew you were still upset. but you look like you genuinely don’t believe him, like you refuse to believe him. he feels like he’s going to collapse if you walk away without acknowledging his feelings.

“What? I’m serious, Y/n. I love you.” he reaches a hand out, drawing back when you flinch.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers.

you look at him, as though he has caused you immense pain, before turning away and running back into the house.

Sakusa stands there, alone in the dark.

he wonders if love is supposed to be so painful; if he will always be the one to inflict the pain, cause the heartache, and leave everything in ruins.

✾

"Shit." you curse as you stare at the empty fridge in front of you. an old bar of havarti cheese and two stale apples stare mockingly at you.

so perhaps you haven't gone grocery shopping in quite a while, but you've been busy! with assignments, your friends, and... Sakusa, you have had too much on your head to worry about things like restocking your fridge.

but now it's nearly midnight, and you have yet to eat dinner. your stomach rumbles at you, and you press a hand to it in annoyance.

you can skip a meal, it's not the end of the world.

but then your stomach rumbles again, and it's starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

you check your phone, just to see if you can order in. but with one glance at the delivery price, you click your phone off. you stare at the sad-looking apples and cheese once more, making up your mind.

the convenience store is about a ten-minute walk, five if you run.

without another thought, you grab a hoodie from the coat rack and put it on. you pick up your apartment keys and slip into your shoes, bracing yourself for the cold air.

the walk ends up being somewhat soothing, the normally lively city is quieter. you use the time to think about your relationship - or lack thereof, with Sakusa. you still remember when he professed his love for you two weeks ago.

you remember rushing back into the party and telling your friends you had to leave. Kuroo drove you home, and you spent the night eating leftover icecream and binging Jujutsu Kaisen.

why couldn't you date someone like Gojo?

but then you think someone calmer, more steady would suit your personality well. someone who you could rely on and with a bit of sarcasm perhaps. someone who has dark hair; you always liked curly hair on men.

someone like him.

Sakusa Kiyoomi.

your thoughts are cut off when you finally get to the store. the lights are bright underneath the dark sky, the bell chiming when you open the door. you quickly grab a few rice balls, and walk to the cashier. it takes you a total of three minutes to get what you want, before you're walking back out with a plastic bag in hand.

you look up as you walk, the stars twinkling prettily. they remind you of his eyes.

you really wish you could stop thinking about him.

Sakusa makes you feel like you've caught a never-ending sickness. like you will wake up each day with your chest in pain, with your eyes swollen from crying paired with your unstable emotions.

its exhausting, you think; caring about people to a point where they cannot understand or reciprocrate your feelings. and then you always end up like this. alone. you wonder how long it will take for the other people you cherish to leave you too.

your thoughts come to a halt when you hear footsteps behind you.

its dark outside, the streetlights only providing a dim yellow glow as you walk. when you turn your head, you notice a man in a hood. your heart immediately plummets.

fuck, what had you been thinking? you should have ordered delivery, screw the price! the money wasn't worth your life.

you walk faster, noticing the person speeding up their steps. your breathing is becoming heavier, and you can feel your legs trembling as you continue to walk. you know you can't go home, otherwise he will know where you live.

you make a detour to head to a park you've been to many times. it was about a five-minute walk from your place, and the thought has you walking faster anxiously.

when you hear his footsteps draw closer, you turn your head and see he is much closer than before.

your breath hitches, and you find yourself tearing up in fear.

you are about to resort to an offensive stance, prepared to swing your bag of riceballs at his head when you bump into something.

you gasp loudly, flinching so harshly at the suddenness of the situation. you look up, finding familiar dark eyes. they look at you with bewilderment, but all you can think about is the pure relief that pools in your stomach, the tears building up in your eyes finally falling.

you rush forward and wrap your arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent. your shoulders are trembling, but they calm slightly when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and the other smooth over your upper back.

he looks over your shoulder, and you are unsure what expression he is showing. "Did you need something?" his voice comes out deep and - angry. you wonder if you are hallucinating the protectiveness that coats his tone. his arms tighten around you further, causing you to relax in his embrace.

you wait, body stuck to his. you hear footsteps retreating, and breathe out shakily.

"He's gone." he says, voice low.

you nod, but you stay in your position for a few minutes, content to bury yourself in his embrace after such a terrifying situation.

"Kiyoomi?" you look up, placing your hands on his chest.

he tilts his head downwards, "Are you okay? He didn't do anything, did he?" his brows are furrowed, lips pursed. he looks extremely concerned, and you feel surprised that he seems to care about you so much.

you shake your head slowly, "No, he didn't do anything. I'm - i'm fine." you lick your lips, trying to convince yourself to believe your own words.

Sakusa doesn't answer you, but he does turn his head and glance back before looking down at you. "I'll walk you home. Are you okay to walk? I can carry you."

you don't have much energy left, but you manage to laugh anyway. "I can walk, thank you."

you gently push at his chest, even though you want to continue to stay in his arms. you don't have that privilege any longer, and you shouldn't have assumed you had it in the first place.

you nod, however, and accept his offer to walk you home. you'll let yourself be selfish just this once, and then you'll let him go.

the walk back is silent, but Sakusa sticks close to you. you feel safe with him next to you, regardless of the fact that he hurt you so deeply.

he seems to protect you from others, but never from himself and his words. you sigh tiredly at the thought.

when you get to your apartment, he insists on walking you up. once at your door, you look at him and shuffle on your feet awkwardly.

"Uh, thanks for helping me back there and walking me home. I'll go inside now." you reach for your doorknob but he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. his head dips down, and he closes his eyes with a sigh.

"Please, just talk to me. I can't handle this." his voice makes you shiver, and you curse your body for reacting that way to him.

you lick your lips, "Can't handle what?"

he opens his eyes, tilting his head further down to catch your gaze. "You being mad at me. You ignoring me. Please, tell me what I need to do to fix this."

the two of you are standing so close, your cheeks heat up at the proximity. he still makes you so nervous after two years of knowing him, and the thought has you annoyed with your weak heart.

a shaky breath escapes your lips. "I don't know. You really hurt me, Sakusa."

he looks at you, face pained. like you being upset is causing him pain, and your chest aches to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry, I love you."

the words bring you back to that night, where you bared your heart to him and he trampled on it without a thought. you feel the urge to let more tears slip out, but you are tired of crying over people that do not care for you. you are tired of being the one that loves more.

but he looks different now. his eyes are filled with remorse, and you want to kiss his frown away. maybe, just maybe, this time you wouldn't be the one who loved too much for their own good.

he wipes a thumb underneath your eye, swiping over your cheek. you hadn't even realized you were crying until the concern in his face grew. it makes you feel embarrassed and angry at yourself, but you can’t find it in you to refuse his comfort.

"You don't mean that, Kiyoomi." your voice cracks involuntarily.

he shakes his head pushing your foreheads closer to one another. "I do, I mean it. I'll say it a million times until you believe me."

you huff out a shaky breath. "A million times is a bit dramatic."

"I'd do it for you." he moves his head to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple. the action has butterflies erupting in your stomach, unused to something so innocently romantic.

"You realize we have a lot to talk about? It won't be easy. I can't forgive you so quickly." you lean closer, tilting your head up.

he leans his head downwards. "I know. I'm sorry, just give me a chance and we can talk about it. I'll work hard to make you forgive me." the words are whispered close to your lips, his breath hitting your face. the minty scent is so Kiyoomi, it has your heart fluttering.

you know you have a lot to talk about. you can't just gloss over the month you spent apart, and you would have to talk to your friends about your choice to give him another chance. it would be difficult, and a risk. you were tired of pouring love into people who could not understand its substance.

but perhaps you can hope; you can hope that this time things will be different. that you'll love someone who will love you back all the same.

"Okay." you say softly.

he smiles, and you wonder if you are imagining the glassy look in his eyes. "Okay?"

you nod, whispering once more. "Yeah, okay."

he tilts his head down and captures your lips with his own, one arm sliding around your waist and the other in your hair, tugging you impossibly close.

you gasp into it, not expecting the desperation that leaks from his lips. he pushes you against the wall, with you wrapping your arms around his neck.

tomorrow, you'd have a lot to think about. you'll have to talk to him and figure out what's in store for the two of you. you will also have to face people who will surely disagree with your decision.

but that was a problem for the future.

for now, you're content to focus on the warm lips on your own.

EXTRA:

"So, what happened with that girl anyway?" your cheek is smushed on Kiyoomi's chest as the two of you lay in bed. you had come over to his place after his practice, and you were enjoying the skinship and cuddles.

he shifts underneath you, "Which girl?" his voice is drowsy, and you know he's falling asleep. you can't help yourself though, you've been curious.

you lift your head, smiling at his tired eyes. "The one from the game. She kept touching you."

you watch recognition fill his eyes as he hums, "She asked me to grab a coffee a few days after the game. Haven't responded though."

you nod, satisfied. "Are you going to? Respond, that is."

he turns, large arm wrapping around you. "Why would I do that when I have you? I'd rather the both of us get coffee sometime."

you laugh, "Are you asking me out on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?"

he smiles sleepily, planting a kiss on your forehead. "Yes. Let's get coffee soon."

you giggle, snuggling closer. "Okay, sounds good to me."

the surprise you had wanted to give to him after the game sits on his wall, framed and beside his bed. the drawing is one of your best, filled with the overwhelming love you know you could only ever offer to Kiyoomi.

love has always been something daunting for you. to love so wholeheartedly meant the likelihood of someone hurting you was greater. but you don't regret anything, not the slightest bit.

because you know how much love you have to offer, and as long as its to the right person, you know he'll keep your heart safe.

you love him, and you're not sorry.

a/n: 9.7k words later i refuse to read this again:’)

[pretzel-box]

—SCENARIO: Sebastian asks P.AI.nter to draw his spouse while delving in the memories of their sunkissed proposal.

Tags: Sebastian is agressive at the beginning, soft hours with p.ai.nter, fluff and comfort, Sebastian is married to gn!reader

words: 1,3k

“Like this?” P.AI.nter's voice broke the silence, and the image of a beautiful young person appeared on his screen. It was clear that P.AI.nter had put a lot of effort into the picture, every stroke and detail meticulously crafted. Sebastian, who was sitting across from his friend, lifted his gaze from the file in his hand to study the drawing. His eyes traced the lines and shapes before he shook his head, frustration bubbling up inside him.

“THIS LOOKS NOTHING LIKE THEM!”

Sebastian suddenly yelled, his voice echoing through the room. He threw the file he had been reading at P.AI.nter’s screen, the papers scattering across the floor. Gripping his head in both hands, he let out a groan of frustration. “It looks nothing like the person I married. Do it again. Paint them again, please.”

P.AI.nter’s screen shifted to display his familiar face, and he studied Sebastian carefully. The sea-serpent hybrid was visibly distressed, his normally composed demeanour unravelling more with each passing day. “Sebastian, maybe we should take a break,” P.AI.nter suggested gently.

“DO IT!” Sebastian snapped, his voice tinged with desperation.

P.AI.nter hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, his screen flickering as he began the task once more.

Over the last few days, P.AI.nter had witnessed Sebastian’s steady decline. The crushing weight of hopelessness had begun to take its toll, especially as progress on his escape plan stalled. The fear of never seeing you again had driven Sebastian to the edge, and now he was clinging to the only thing he could—the memory of you.

Sebastian could describe every detail of your face as if he had spent a lifetime memorizing it. The way your smile lit up when you spoke to him, the warmth in your eyes when he returned home, the tentative yet eager kiss you shared on your first date, and the breathtaking moment when he proposed to you at sunset, in your favorite place.

But no matter how vivid those memories were, the thought of forgetting you, of losing even a fragment of what he remembered, filled him with a terror that he could not shake.

As P.AI.nter worked on a new sketch, Sebastian leaned forward, his hands trembling slightly. His mind raced with thoughts of you, the love of his life, the one he was desperate to return to. He couldn't bear the idea of those memories fading, of your face becoming just another blur in his mind. The very thought made his heart ache in a way that nothing else down here ever could.

“Please, P.AI.nter,” Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now, raw and vulnerable. “Just… make sure I don’t forget them.”

P.AI.nter glanced at him again, the sympathy in his digital eyes clear. He understood what was driving Sebastian, the fear and the love intertwined in a way that made it impossible for him to let go. “I’ll do my best, Sebastian. I promise.”

Sebastian nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to hold onto the image of you in his mind as tightly as he could. The thought of seeing you again, of holding you, was the only thing that kept him going. And he would do anything—anything—to make sure that happened. Even if it meant forcing himself to relive every precious memory, over and over, until the day he could finally make new ones with you again.

His mind was elsewhere, trapped in memories of a life he longed to return to. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from P.AI.nter’s screen as he quietly observed his friend.

“Tell me about the proposal again,” P.AI.nter requested gently, breaking the silence. He knew that Sebastian found solace in recounting these memories, even if they were tinged with the pain of longing.

Sebastian took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the memory flooded back. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he began to speak. “It was a perfect evening. We had been together for a while, and I knew… I just knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them.”

P.AI.nter’s screen displayed a soft, encouraging expression as he listened and started to draw another sketch in the background, the digital companion understanding the importance of these memories for Sebastian.

“I chose their favorite spot—a secluded beach just outside the city we lived in. We used to go there all the time, just because they liked how the sun meets the water. The sun would set over the water, casting this incredible golden light everywhere. They loved it there.. We’d sit and watch the waves, talk about everything and nothing… It was our place,” Sebastian’s voice was soft, full of warmth as he spoke.

He paused for a moment, as if savoring the memory. “I remember that day so clearly. I was so nervous, even though I knew they’d say yes. I had the ring in my pocket, and I kept checking to make sure it was still there. My heart was pounding the entire time.”

P.AI.nter hummed in acknowledgment, his screen flickering slightly as he recorded every word, every detail. He knew how much this meant to Sebastian.

“We walked along the shore, just like we always did. I was waiting for the perfect moment, and then… then the sun began to set. The sky turned this beautiful shade of orange and pink, and the water looked like it was on fire. Their form got dived in a beautiful warm light, making their eyes shine so bright that it made me feel like I'm melting. That’s when I knew it was time.”

Sebastian’s smile widened, his eyes still closed as he relived the moment. “I stopped walking and turned to face them. They looked at me, their face in a cute little confusion t first, but then they saw the look on my face. I could see the realization in their beautiful eyes. I took their hands, and I told them how much they meant to me, how I couldn’t imagine a life without them, with words that couldn't even express a shard of the things I feel for them. And then… I got down on one knee.”

P.AI.nter’s screen now displayed a rough sketch of a beach, a couple standing in the golden light of the sunset. The image was simple, yet it captured the essence of the moment Sebastian was describing.

“I asked them to marry me, right there, with the waves crashing in the background and the sun setting behind us. Their eyes… They were filled with tears, but they were smiling, a genuine sweet one. And when they said yes, it was like the whole world just… clicked into place.”

Sebastian opened his eyes, and for a moment, it was as if he was back on that beach, holding your hands, hearing you say those words. His heart ached with longing, but the memory also brought him comfort.

“They hugged me so tightly, I could feel their heart beating against mine. We stayed there for a long time, just holding each other, watching the sun disappear below the horizon. It was the happiest moment of my life.”

P.AI.nter displayed the image of the sunset proposal on his screen, a small token to keep the memory alive in the dark depths of the Blackside. “It sounds beautiful, Sebastian.”

“It was,” Sebastian agreed, his voice softening. “It really was.”

P.AI.nter could see the emotion in Sebastian’s eyes, the way they glistened with unshed tears. “You’ll see them again, Sebastian. You’ll make it out of here, and you’ll have more moments like that.”

Sebastian nodded, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or if he truly believed it. “I have to,” he whispered, more to himself than to P.AI.nter. “I have to see them again.”

P.AI.nter offered a comforting hum, the image of the sunset still glowing softly on his screen. “And when you do, you’ll have so many stories to tell them. They’ll be proud of how strong you’ve been.”

Sebastian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he allowed himself to get lost in the memory for a little longer.

[cup-o-stars]

How to draw like you no borax

Good question!

I'd warn against following my process (at least if you want to learn), but I'll be honest and show you, lol. (Heads up: this is just how I do FAN art. When having fun, I generally care less about the fundamentals.)

1. I slap down super rough sketches, jotting lines/expressions like bullet points of my idea. Pretty much stick figures with just enough detail to remember who's who later. Not shown here, I also move, resize, and add details to express the intended composition if I'm planning something larger. You may notice a lot of curved lines / haphazard circles.

2. I refine the sketch by drawing it with more intention and build structure with slightly blockier shapes. If I'm really struggling with a pose, this is also where I'll find references or look at myself for bits and pieces to fill in the gaps. (When practicing, I would highly recommend using a reference from the start so all your limbs are an appropriate length and you don't need to say things like "that's passable" right before posting. If you're a perfectionist you'll leave that thought with the rough sketch.)

3. I'll decide around here whether or not to leave the sketch as is or commit to lineart (not likely). I guess I'd say I "shape the lines" here by going over some to add thickness/weight, and by adding basic sort-of-shading to break things up a little. Then I'll just fill in space if the page looks empty. (Usually this is where I incorporate the borax, but I hear baking soda works nicely if you're worried.)

4. Onto coloring. I don't feel confident enough to pretend I know what I'm doing here, lol. I just choose my base colors, imagine the general direction of the light source, then add minor gradients to the light and dark layers so they don't look flat. Then I just add some BS highlights and outline them. I've only recently found the motivation to properly practice coloring and just go with the flow tbh.

You may notice that Nami's forearm is too long, her hand looks like a pancake and Chopper has no joints! My kind sibling explained to me once that my anatomy is poor, but cohesive enough that nothing stands out too bad, lol. That's why it is important to use references!! And if you're me, practice all parts of anatomy at the same time with full bodies so that even when you're at a loss, your hands aren't that much better than your feet.

All in all, to draw like me, just have a very hedonistic approach to art, ha. Draw what you want, avoid getting burnt out on any single piece (sometimes that happens when you try to perfect drawings one at a time), and follow my personal motto:

Make fun, not masterpieces.

Idk how helpful this was, but there you have it!

[vagabond-umlaut]

INVERSE FUNCTION (1)

yandere sukuna x fem!reader; stalking; insp: this song [pls listen to this after reading]

divider by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine; pls don't plagiarise/translate/repost this ❤️❤️

Sukuna is hooked on you.

He has no idea since when, why or how– but he has a very good idea of the degree he is hooked on you— each and every small bit of you–

Your sleepy face, first thing in the morning as you open the windows to your room, and stare at the sky then the empty street below. Your peppy walk out the apartment, not even an hour later as you head to your classes, always so punctual– so neatly, cutely dressed.

The warm smiles you offer everyone you come across— be it the kids waiting for their bus, the florist, the barista who serves you coffee, or the many classmates you've whenever you step into the class, words of greeting leaving you and brightening the room, more than the sun.

And not to mention the endearing look of concentration your pretty features wear, when the classes start.

Sukuna swears he has to actively, very painfully, restrain himself from walking right up to you and kissing your face off, each and every time your eyebrows gather together and your lips pucker into a pout– only for your teeth to sink into your lower lip not a moment later, the flesh there growing angry red, deliciously so, as you continue taking notes of the lecture.

Although... the man thinks his favourite look on you has got to be the one you wear in the evening: when the classes are over, when all your friends have finally left, when you're by yourself, no longer smiling as brightly as you do. Seeming so tired, so very fragile, as you trudge on the darkening streets back to your flat...

It makes something weird, but not wholly unpleasant, curl up within his chest. So strong that it makes him want to pick up into his arms, and keep you there forever, safe and sound and well-rested. Forever with him, tucked in the safety of his embrace—

Sukuna is not too sure, but he thinks this feeling might be why he has suddenly decided to break into your house today, instead of watching you from afar like he has always done. Or maybe, just maybe...

Watching you from a distance is no longer enough for him.

He has to enter the place you call 'home'.

He has to soak up every drop, memorise every fleck of your life here.

Starting from the random tiny doodles scribbled on the canary yellow walls— to the thick hardcover books and notebooks in neat stacks on the sofa, the table, the floor— to the pressure cooker kept on the oval burner of your gas stove— to the queen-size bed in a floral bed sheet, visible if he walks past the translucent screen between your bedroom and living room— to the sketchbook lying on the bed– its pages filled with– filled with–

Sketches Of Him!?!?

Him working in the garage on a car. Him smoking at the bus stop you travel from. Him dozing in class, head propped up on a fist. Him busy eating sandwiches, binoculars on the bench beside as his gaze stays somewhere above—

The sketchbook is filled with drawings of him, him, and only him—

Something stirs and stutters and stomps on his sternum; albeit he is unsure why. Is it the fact that he finally realises he is standing right in the middle of your bedroom– the most intimate place in your life? Or is it because he is staring at these many sketches your dainty fingers have made of him– so beautiful, so careful, so unlike him?

Can it be the unease clawing at him, stemming from your knowledge of him being in places close to you, where and when he should never be? Or– maybe or– is it the thrill tingling his fingers, when he realises, you too have been at places close to him, where and when you must never ever be...

A door opens and shuts behind him.

Sukuna swerves back to find you standing outside your bathroom, in nothing but a flimsy nightgown, hair still soaking wet whilst the towel hangs off your bare shoulders.

Your eyes jump from him to the sketchbook in his hand then to him— before crinkling into two pretty half-crescents as you smile... Sort of–

"Tea or coffee, stranger?"

follow the series here 🥰🥰 // masterlist

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty ⭐︎ Tell me it's love, tell me it's real

Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! slight angst, only a tiny bit of sadness, fluff, lots and lots of fluff, mentions of loss and death, smut, pool sex, unprotected sex, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve get lost in your own little world, a delusion in which you both have what you want, if only you knew how to talk, how to communicate.

Word count: 11.6k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult we've been talking about this moment since February and now we're here aaahhhh! thanks for helping me and for putting the smut idea in my head, it's been living rent free in there for the past few months, thanks for writing with me hehe ily

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Steve was dying of boredom. Mrs. Click’s voice sounded through the room that was filled with other bored students, the girl next to him that he never bothered to learn the name of was chewing her gum obnoxiously as she was sketching in her notebook, she smelled like weed and a strong perfume, it was giving him a headache. 

He looked at the clock and sighed, forty minutes to go… 

He couldn’t wait for the bell to ring and go home, watch a movie and eat the pasta his mom made the night before. 

Steve leaned back and tapped his fingers against the book he didn’t even bother to open when Mrs. Click told everyone to flip to page 137. He looked to his left, at the girl sitting by the window, listening attentively and taking notes the way he should have been doing too. 

Just the sight of you angered him and he didn’t even know why, but something in his chest burned every time he looked at you and it frustrated him to no end. And yet, he never stopped himself from looking, from taking in the sight of you and how soft your skin looked, how pretty your eyes were, how nice your clothes fit you and how stunning you always were, even when you ditched your pretty dress for sweaters and jeans on some days. 

Today wasn’t one of those days, you were wearing a skirt, a short one that rode up on your thighs, it made his eyes spark with interest, it made him look closer at you, he sat up straighter and leaned his elbows on the table. 

Your eyebrows were scrunched together, your glossy lips puckered, your eyelashes kissed your skin every time you blinked, your hair laid so prettily on your shoulder, curled at the ends, he wondered how much time you spent on it, did you sleep with rollers in your hair? Or did you get up early just to style it? 

Your skin was glowing and he swore that he could smell your sweet perfume even from a distance. Every time you passed him, he breathed in your scent and made the burning in his chest feel worse than before but he couldn’t help it, you smelled so good. 

He kept staring at you and questions started running through his mind. 

Why do you have to be so beautiful?

Why do you have such pretty lashes?

Why do you bite your lip like that?

Why does his heart beat so weirdly every time he sees you?

It’s not fair, it’s bullshit. 

Your eyes, your smile, your hair, your lips, your pretty face, your stupid rings, your scent, your beauty… it’s not fair. 

Your presence always made him huff in irritation and yet, he never bothered to look the other way or avoid you. 

He always stared, every chance he got, he stared, just like now. 

But then, you turned your head and your eyes locked with his, you caught him staring and it made his cheeks heat up. He shifted in his seat as you gave him a look of confusion, your puckered lips turning downwards, your eyebrows scrunching together even more. 

He should’ve looked away and pretended like nothing happened but he didn’t, he raised his brows at you and curled his lips into a smirk, an action that made you roll your eyes before you turned back to your notebook. 

He almost felt disappointed at the loss of your attention, but then you flipped a page and leaned closer to the table, you quickly scribbled something into your notebook, it made him curious and it made him crane his neck a little but he couldn’t see what you were writing. You then ripped the paper out and folded it, you looked at Mrs. Click before you turned back to him and threw the note on his table without giving him as much of a glance. 

Something in his chest stirred as he picked it up, still looking at you before he gave his full attention to the paper in his hand, he unfolded it and furrowed his brows as he looked at your pretty handwriting before he even read what you wrote. 

What are you looking at perv?

Steve almost laughed, he didn’t expect anything else from you. He shook his head and smirked as he folded the note back together and threw it in his pencil case. He ripped off a piece of paper from his own notebook and started writing without thinking. 

You.

A simple ‘you’, that’s all. He wanted to see how you would react, what you would say back, if you would take it as a chance to flirt with the King, if you would use the opportunity any other girl would use. 

He looked around and ignored the curious looks from Tommy as he threw the note on your table, it landed right in front of you and you wasted no time unfolding it, you looked over your shoulder at him, a deadpan look on your pretty face. You sighed and turned back. 

Steve straightened in his seat, he pressed his lips together as he watched you and the way you held your breath, the way you stared at the paper for a moment, tensely and then, you huffed and crumbled up the piece of paper and threw it in your case just the way he did. You started writing hastily and made him more curious when you stopped for a second before you continued. 

His heart jumped when he got the second note, just like the first time, he quickly unfolded it and read it with excitement bubbling in his chest. 

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

Of course you would not take the bait and give into his curiosity but he found himself craving for more, you sparked his interest, so he picked up the pen again. 

What makes you think I’m flirting with you, Blondie? Maybe I just like looking at you. 

He should have seen the way you halted your breath, the way you stared at the note a little longer than you did at the last one.

And here I thought you only like to look at yourself…

He snorted at that and earned a pointed look from Mrs. Click, he instantly straightened his back and pretended to listen to her, scared of getting caught, he didn’t want this to end just yet. A sigh of relief fell from his lips once she turned her attention back to the book in front of her. 

No, I quite like looking at the skirt you’re wearing today

Steve swore that you grew flustered at this note, you even glanced down at the skirt and took a few deep breaths before you wrote back to him. 

Like I said… perv. 

His shoulders slumped and he sighed. A part of him was amused, the other… not so much but before he could write back, the bell rang and everyone around him started gathering their stuff and hurrying to leave the classroom, including you. You picked up your notebook and got up, you smoothed down your skirt and left without sparing him a single glance. 

But Steve wanted more. He gathered his things and jumped up, not bothering to wait for Tommy, he hurried after you and watched the way your skirt swayed and your hair bounced. He licked his lips and cleared his throat as he caught up to you, he glanced down at you with a cocky smirk on his face, one that made you roll your eyes again. 

“What do you want, perv?”

He chuckled and shook his head. 

“I’m not a perv.”

“You’re not?” You tilted your head at him, cutely. “Then why are you staring at my skirt and making comments about it?”

He shrugged and looked down at it before his eyes moved up your body, “maybe I just really like it.” 

You rolled your eyes again and laughed – a sound that made him feel something in his stomach. 

“I fear you can’t borrow it, it won’t even fit around your big square head.” 

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes and yet, he couldn’t even help but snort at your insult, they were so very different from the ones he threw at you sometimes.  

“My head isn’t square…”

“Yes it is,” you giggled and gave him a smirk as you eyed him. 

Evil. 

“You look like a lego figure, you have a lego head.” 

He shook his head at you, though the amused smile lingered on his face, even as he took notice of all the prying eyes on you and him, he heard the whispers, saw the girls that eyed him and then you before they leaned towards each other to make up some new gossip, a part of him felt irritated and annoyed but the other part of him that loved the attention, couldn’t care less about what they would say about him or you. 

You stopped at your locker and gave him a weird look when he stopped too, he leaned against the locker next to yours and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched you fidget with your lock. He looked at your hands, how much smaller they were than his and he couldn’t help but let his mind wander the way his eyes did as they roamed every inch of you while you were busy putting your stuff into your locker. 

Usually he did not allow himself to see you as anything other than a girl he disliked but a part of him couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he allowed himself to see you as something other than that, as something more. 

He licked his lips as he looked at your soft skin, his fingers itched to touch your hair, wondering if they felt just as soft as they looked. He breathed in the scent of your perfume and felt something stir inside of him. 

You turned towards him and he didn’t bother to hide the fact that he was staring. Your lashes fluttered as you blinked, your lips twisted into a downturned smile, you raised your brows at him and shrugged.

“Okay, what do you want from me, Harrington?” You asked, the strap of your backpack now over your shoulder and you slammed your locker before you crossed your arms over your chest. “Is this a dare or something or why are you staring at me like some creep?” 

He felt his cheeks heat up a little, a shyness he usually never felt tugged at his emotions but his arrogance was still in control. 

“I’m bored,” he shrugged and let his eyes linger on your lips as his mind continued to wander. 

You rolled your eyes at him and huffed, pointing your finger around you, gesturing to the students, to the girls that stared at you in envy at this moment. 

“Well, I’m sure one of them will keep you entertained,” you mumbled and took a step forward, “they are practically begging on their knees for your attention, don’t leave ‘em waiting.” You patted him on his chest before you stepped away from him. 

He turned to face you, not wanting to let you go just yet. 

“What if I want you to keep me entertained?” He asked teasingly with a cocky, playful smirk on his lips, one that made you blink and sigh. 

“Dream on, King Steve,” you smirked and looked over his shoulder at something behind him, “gotta be more creative with your dares, your stupid friends are way too obvious.” 

He furrowed his brows and turned around to see what you were looking at, he found Tommy and Carol watching the two of you with a smirk on their lips, giggles falling from Carol’s mouth. Steve rolled his eyes at them and sighed. 

“Listen, that wasn’t–” he stopped talking when he found you long gone and away from him and watched as you walked away, “a dare…” He mumbled to himself, he sighed again and looked down once you were out of sight. His notebook and pencil case were still in his hand, your notes tucked safely in the case – where they stayed for a while. 

“Steve!” 

Your giggles make him smile so widely that it makes his cheeks ache but he can’t stop, not when you continue blessing him with your sweet laughter, your hands are on his shoulders, holding on tightly as his fingers dig into your sides, he peppers your neck with kisses, smacking his lips against the skin over and over. 

You are squirming underneath him, your dress riding up in the process as you both lie on the big couch in your living room, the movie playing on the TV long forgotten, your snacks discarded on the table, your attention is fully on each other, your lips locking every few seconds as your hands wander across his shoulders, over his back, down his arms and finally melting into his hands, your heart skipping several beats when he entwines his fingers with yours.

Steve squeezes your hands and he dives in deeper into your neck, kissing and smiling against your skin. 

“That tickles!” You giggle again, your eyes begin to water from all the laughter. 

He chuckles against you and pecks your neck one more time before he pulls back to kiss your jaw instead, then your cheek and finally your lips, humming against you when you kiss him back immediately. Your breaths mingle together, your lips mold against each other, softly yet passionately, you are chest to chest, hands clinging to one another. 

You let go of one hand and place your palm on his back, sliding it up to his shoulder and squeezing it before you sink your fingers into his already messy hair. 

Steve sighs into the kiss and tightens his hold on your hand as he parts your thighs with his knee, not to take this any further but to feel you closer and you welcome him happily, not initiating anything else either, this feels good, this feels nice, this is enough. 

Your whimper makes his stomach flutter, a smile tugs at his lips as you play with his hair. Your hands feel so good on him, so perfect, so right. His heart skips a beat when you push yourself up and press yourself further against him, parting his lips with your tongue, you deepen the kiss in need to feel him even closer. 

Your hands roam his body and his roam yours, sighs and whimpers sound through the room as you make out on your couch, growing more and more breathless, only when it gets too much do you break the kiss and pull away from one another. You lay your head back on the pillow and open your eyes to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his swollen lips, eyes hooded and laced with softness, his cheeks are pink and his hair is messy from all your tugging. Steve makes your heart flutter when he presses another soft kiss to your lips and cups the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone as he gazes down at you in a way only a special one should do. 

“Hi Blondie,” he whispers sweetly. 

You raise your hand up towards his face, brushing back his spitcurl before you trail your finger down to his lips, “hey, Lego Head.” 

His eyes crinkle in amusement, a chuckle falls from his pretty lips, “wow, way to ruin the moment.” 

You giggle at him and it makes him continue. 

“You haven’t used that one in a while.” 

“Mhmm, did you miss it?” You tease him, knowing how much he hated the nickname you gave him on a random school day. 

“Hmm, it kinda grew on me,” he admits, smiling down at you, “but I kinda prefer it when you call me Stevie.”

“Stevie? That only happens when I’m drunk.” 

“Yeah,” he whispers and tugs your hair behind your ear, still smiling as his eyes trace your features, “guess I gotta get you drunk again.”

“Why?” You giggle and furrow your brows at him, “so I’ll call you Stevie again?” 

“Yeah, and so I can have sweet Blondie again,” he smirks, “you’re so nice and adorable when you’re drunk.” 

Your cheeks heat up at his words but you roll your eyes and shake your head. 

“Are you saying I’m normally not adorable?” You joke and pout at him and push him back so you can stand up, heart beating faster at the groan of protest and the tightness of his hold on your waist when you try to get up from the couch. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, frowning at you when you place your hand on top of his and gently remove it from your waist. 

“I’m starving, I’m gonna see what I have in the fridge.” 

Steve nods and wastes no time to get up and follow you into the kitchen, admiring the way your little sundress fits your body, the way it hugs your waist and sways around your hips as you walk. Your hair matches the state of his own, messy and disheveled from the previous makeout session. 

When you open the fridge, you let out a loud sigh and look over your shoulder, “uh… I kinda forgot to do the groceries.” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, chuckling at the expression on your face, he steps closer to you and places his hands on your waist as he takes a look inside, finding nothing more than fruit, drinks, condiments and cheese, “yeah, that won’t do.”

You sigh again and close the fridge, turning around to face him while his hands are still on your waist. 

“Yeah…”

“Well, let’s go out then,” Steve shrugs as the idea of taking you to a restaurant fills him with excitement and giddiness. 

Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen. 

“W-Where?”

Steve clears his throat, his cheeks take on a deeper shade. 

“T-To eat. We can uh– go to a sushi restaurant, I’ve always wanted to try… Have you ever tried sushi…?” He stutters and blushes. 

“Y-You wanna go out with me… in public?” You ask, cringing at how shaky and small your own voice sounds. 

His lips twitch, curling into a smile as he nods. 

“We uh… We could go out of town, there are no sushi restaurants in Hawkins, Blondie.” His words left his mouth so casually, like his heart isn’t hammering in his chest and he isn’t filled with the same nervousness he felt as a teenage boy. He feels as though he is asking you out on a date… and maybe he is, maybe he’d like to pretend that he is. 

“You mean to Indianapolis?”

Steve nods. He wants to leave Hawkins for a while, even if just for one night, he wants to be able to go out with you without feeling the need to hide, he wants to hold your hand in public and kiss you breathless on the streets, he wants to hold you close and show you off as if you were his. 

He wants it all with you and he wants it here too, in his hometown, where anyone could see but he still doesn’t know how you feel, he feels hopeful but he is still in the dark about your feelings. 

“It's the closest city we got.”

“It’s an hour trip!” 

His heart melts at the bewildered, cute look on your face, the excitement that lingers in your eyes as your lips start curling into a smile. 

“So?” Steve shrugs and squeezes your waist, “we got all night.”

Your heart is racing and everything inside of you flutters in excitement. Your cheeks are burning and you feel the giddiness of a girl that’s been asked out on a date by the boy she likes. You can’t even hide the smile that appears on your face, brightly and happily. 

“I need to get changed then!” You beam at him as you already step away, not giving him the chance to protest or say anything else before you walk out of the kitchen, “I’ll be down in a minute!” 

Steve listens to the sound of your footsteps as you rush up the stairs, leaving him in your kitchen with a pounding heart and a huge smile on his lips. He looks up at the ceiling, an accomplished and joyful feeling rushing through him, he can’t help but do a silent fist pump. 

This is going to be a date, an unofficial one, but still a date. 

He can’t fight the grin off his lips, the giddy feeling settling into his whole body. He walks back into the hallway and takes a look at himself, your lipstick is smudged on his skin and his lips, his hair is a mess, created by you, his cheeks are glowing from all the happiness inside of him. 

He fixes his hair and wipes the pink lipstick off his skin before he makes his way into your living room to turn off the TV and put away the snacks you both had earlier. 

You come back down fifteen minutes later, changed into a new dress and your makeup reapplied, your hair fixed and a small purse in your hand. You meet in the hallway, keys already in his hand, and he’s leaning against the door.

Steve’s heart goes wild at the sight of you in your new sundress, your glossy lips tugged into a smile, the urge to pull you into a kiss pushes him towards you.

He whistles playfully, making you roll your eyes with a giggle. 

“Getting all pretty for me now?” He teases, acting cocky as though his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his chest. 

You always get pretty for him. 

“I’ve been dying to wear this dress,” you say, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you twirl around to reveal your open back to him, not knowing how crazy you drive him with your action. 

Steve’s stomach flutters, his hands instantly itch to touch your bare skin, you look so beautiful. 

He takes a step closer to you and grabs your waist, humming, “that’s a pretty dress, I can’t wait to see it on my bedroom floor though.” 

Your cheeks burn and despite it, you giggle as you turn around to face him, “is that a King Steve pickup line?” 

He shakes his head, “no, he never said such things.”

“Sure,” you snort and tug at his hand, pulling him towards the door, “come on now, I’m starving!” 

Steve chuckles and nods, reaching for his car keys on the dresser, he squeezes your hand, “yeah, come on, before you get grumpy.” 

“I never get grumpy,” you argue as your lips curl into a pout that he instantly feels the urge to kiss. 

“You always get grumpy when you’re hungry,” he laughs. He loves it. 

Steve opens the door for you, giving you a sweet smile as he looks down at your pretty face. You step out and he follows, admiring the way your dress hugs your body, the way your skin glows beneath the evening sun, the way your hair shines, your perfume lingers in the air and he can’t help but breathe it in deeply, just the way he always did. 

Your hand fits in his so perfectly, like it belongs there… and to him it does. 

You look over your shoulder, giving him a cute smile that leaves him breathless. The golden light that shines down on you turns his breathing shaky, no words could describe your beauty, nothing comes close to it, absolutely nothing. You are stunning, bewitching, you are a goddess and he worships every inch of your being and you don’t even know it.

He wishes he could scream out those three big words, kiss you breathless and show you just how much he adores you but he can’t, he is too afraid, he fears rejection so deeply, so all that he can do is pretend, pretend that you are already his and live in this small delusion for as long as he can. He opens the door for you and winks at you, fighting the urge to kiss your hand before he lets go of you and closes the door only to grab your hand again once he is seated in the driver's seat, you lace your fingers together and squeeze his hand, unaware of the feelings you leave him with, with your sweet action. 

When he turns on the music and a smile appears on your face, you sink deeper into the seat and get comfortable, a content look on your pretty features. You look so perfect sitting in his passenger seat, next to him, holding his hand, enjoying the music as you look out the window when he drives down the road.

This is where you belong, this is what he wants, you by his side, for tonight and for always, he wants you to be his, his girl.

This isn’t enough, it never was, this was never just about sex. 

There was never an ounce of hatred for you in his bones, not in high school and not after. 

He felt bitterness, confusion, denial but most of all, he felt jealousy, he always did and he never understood why you didn’t like him, why you bickered with him, why you laughed at his poor flirting attempts, why you didn’t want him the way every other girl did, why you showed up for Lucas’s game but not a single one of his – that night isn’t one he likes to think back on, it makes him cringe and shudder in annoyance at himself for what he said to you, he let his emotions, his jealousy, his frustrations control the words his mouth left. 

He didn’t know that you were a friend of Max and Lucas, he didn’t know that you showed up for her, and for him, knowing that his friends were too busy with Eddie’s D&D campaign. He didn’t know why you were there, but when he saw you on the bleachers and he caught you waving at Lucas, whose eyes lit up when he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel jealous because why did you show up for a freshman, for a kid? Why did you never show up to any of his games? Why didn’t you give him the chance to show off? 

He felt irritated, even more so when he saw you talking to Lucas in the parking lot, smiling at him and congratulating him on his successful first game. 

He remembers the way he marched over to you, the way he started bickering with you instead of praising the teen he showed up for. 

“Are you so desperate for attention that you go for a freshman now?” 

He cringes at himself, even now, disgusted at the words he threw at you.

You looked so hurt and angry, you pushed him away from you and he never blamed you for it, you could’ve slapped him right there, he deserved it. 

He felt guilty right then and there but that emotion intensified when only a few days later he found out about your sisterly bond with Max and your friendship with both of them, you cared for them and protected them just the way he did. Before he knew that, he made himself believe that you were just a loner, a person too cold to feel anything, even platonic, he wanted to believe that he wasn’t some unimportant person that you crossed paths with, that you were simply unable to form bonds or relationships but that wasn’t the case, you had people you cared for, you had friends you would die for, you just didn’t want to give him a chance, not platonically and especially not romantically. 

He was jealous of anyone who was close to you, who was special to you but back then, he didn’t allow himself to explore the depth of those emotions that always lingered inside of him when it came to you. 

Now he can see them, he can feel them, he can admit that he was jealous and hurt because he is no longer ashamed to like, love you — someone who might not feel the same. But whatever the outcome of this affair will be, he doesn’t regret letting all those feelings in, especially now that you are here with him, like this, holding his hand and letting him take you out and show you off in public. 

He is allowed to feel hopeful now, he thinks. 

Indianapolis is big and no town people, no friends, no prying eyes will be there to see you both but you could have still easily said no to his suggestion because who goes out to eat with their supposedly casual hook up? But then again, what is casual about you both? 

Not even your first night together was casual. 

You kissed and held each other close from the very beginning. 

You stay over, you cuddle, you hold hands, even in public and when you are sure that no one is looking, you sleep in his arms and you make each other breakfast, you make sure that his favorite drinks and snacks are in your kitchen and he does the same for you, his bathroom and his bedroom are filled with things that belong to you. 

This isn’t casual, the signs are there and they are so very clear, tonight especially, when you make it to the city and you walk through the busy streets where it’s much more crowded and louder than it is in your small hometown, you keep close to him and hold onto his hand tightly as you lead him to the sushi restaurant that you have told him about on the drive here, the one you went to with your parents and your sister every time you visited your grandparents in the city. 

So many things go through Steve’s mind and so many emotions rush through him as you walk side by side, hand in hand with the city lights shining down on you both as the sun disappears more and more. He feels free, like he can do anything, like he can kiss you right here, right now, without needing to hide or drag you to a secret corner, he feels giddy, happy, he can’t even hide the smile on his face. 

Once you make it to your destination, Steve lets go of your hand and places it on the small of your back instead, he opens the door and keeps his palm pressed against your body. He is so lost in his happy bubble, he doesn’t even notice the blush taking over your face when he wraps his arm around you and rests his palm on your hip instead as he leads you inside. 

It’s crowded but he didn’t expect any less from a restaurant in a big city, he doesn’t seem to mind though and neither do you, especially when you get one of the booth tables, tucked away in the very back, next to a big window where you can see the city lights. 

You sit down across from one another, smiling from ear to ear as you look into each other’s eyes. 

“Hi,” he whispers, making you giggle. 

“Hi.”

His honey eyes look so pretty in this golden light, his hair looks softer than ever, his smile so big and bright that it fills you with hope, especially when it stays as his eyes trace your face, he is staring at you even though he could be staring at this pretty setting around you, at the decorated room, the string lights over you, the city lights, but no, he is staring at you and he is making you feel special. 

A sheepish smile takes over your face, a shyness that you rarely ever feel flushing through you, the look in his eyes is so intense that you can’t help but be the first to break contact. You lean back and cross your legs, looking around the restaurant you used to eat dinners at with your family. 

Nostalgia comes over you when a family of four catches your eye, sitting at a round table, they seem to be in a lively conversation, the two little girls laughing with their father as their mother shakes her head with a smile on her face. 

Steve follows your gaze when he notices the sad but soft look in your eyes. Something tugs at his chest when he takes a look at the family you are watching and suddenly your eyes aren’t the only ones filled with sadness. 

He leans closer to the table, placing his palm above your hand. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, watching the way you tilt your head at him, the softness in your eyes never leaving. “I mean, are you okay to be here… right now… with me?” 

There is no one else you would rather be with here.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nod, glancing down at his hand, he is now rubbing circles into your skin, “and yes, I want to be here with you,” you admit, knowing how vulnerable you can make yourself look with such words. 

He breathes out a sigh of relief, his lips curl back into a smile. 

Steve keeps holding your hand, not letting go, not even when he decides to look at the menu, not even when the waiter stops at your table to take your orders, not when your drinks arrive a few minutes later, he keeps holding on and you let him.

Curiosity sparks in him when he notices the way you keep looking back at the family, a look in your eyes that signalizes the feeling of longing. 

“Blondie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You nod, “anything.”

You’re close enough to ask each other questions that won’t make the other uncomfortable and that is something Steve greatly appreciates, knowing that you weren’t here months back, not even close.

Steve blinks, taking a few shaky breaths, he keeps his hand on yours, tracing the ring on your middle finger. He clears his throat and looks down, ignoring the strong beating of his heart and the nervousness bubbling in his stomach. 

“Do you uh… do you ever think about it?” 

You look at him with big, curious eyes and it’s not helping his case at all. 

“Think about what?” 

“Kids.” 

You furrow your brows at his question but you smile softly and you don’t hesitate to nod, not even needing time to think about it. 

“I honestly want to… I miss having a big family, you know?” You pause and look down at his hand, wondering what it would be like if he had a ring on his fourth finger, one that would match your own. “I don’t care if it’s one or many, I just… I really want a family, one that is here with me, all the time.” 

Steve’s big hazel eyes soften and flicker with deep emotions. His heart skips a beat as warmth settles in his chest. 

He didn’t think he could fall even harder for you, even deeper but now as he looks at you, as he holds your hand and looks into your pretty eyes, he knows that he will never stop falling, there is no end, no limit when it comes to his feelings, to his love for you.

A future lies before his eyes, a future with you, rings, cradles, a white picket fence, kids that look like you and him. He sees something, something that is in reach, something that he hopes for, something that he wants with you without a single doubt.

“You will have it all, Blondie.”

You don’t know what to make of his words but whatever the feelings behind them are, you know that they are not what you want them to be, no matter how much his feelings for you changed, no matter how much hope there is in you, no matter how big it is, you can’t believe that the thing you have now, could be one for the future too and not only the present. 

You don’t know what to say without revealing your feelings to him, you want this with him and he can’t know, he just can’t. 

To your relief, the waiter brings your food to the table, taking Steve’s attention away from your face. You let go of each other's hands, thanking and smiling at the waiter. 

“That looks amazing,” Steve murmurs as he looks at the plates in front of the both of you, reaching for the chopsticks, he looks down at them, growing a little nervous, he never used them before. 

“It does,” you nod with a smile on your face, “hey, this is special, Steve. I’m getting my first sushi with you.” You say with a giggle, making his chest flutter. 

“I thought you had some before.” 

“Yeah, stole some from my dad but I never actually had a plate for myself,” you chuckle. 

“Well, I’m glad we share some firsts together then because I never tried them before, at all,” he grins. 

You can tell by the way he is holding the chopsticks wrongly, looking down at them with furrowed brows and pursed lips. He looks so cute like this but a part of you wants to laugh even though you can’t even use them properly yourself. You have seen your dad using them every time you came here to eat, but you never tried it yourself. 

“I can tell,” you murmur, unable to hide the giggle when he tries to pick up a roll but fails to do so. 

He snorts and shoots you a playful glare. 

“Go ahead, and show me then, Blondie,” he smirks at you, pointing at your plate. 

You clear your throat and place your chopsticks between your index and middle finger, you can already feel your cheeks heating up beneath his gaze. You press your thumb against the chopstick and bite your lip in concentration, glancing at him for a second to see him staring at you, making the warmth in your cheeks grow hotter. 

“See?” You grin as you pinch your food gently, growing confident when you manage to pick up the sushi despite the shakiness in your hands. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling softly. 

You go to dip it in the soy sauce when your shaky hands lose control and your sushi plops into the sauce loudly, splattering over your plate but luckily not on your dress. You press your lips together and look into his eyes, you stare at one another for a moment before you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my god,” Steve chuckles in amusement, “you’re a great teacher, honey.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle and try to pick it up again. 

“Guess we gotta learn together,” he shrugs with a smile on his face. 

You do, you learn together and you share jokes and laugh at each other every time you fail, but once you get the hang out of it, you fall into a conversation about your parents, you tell him stories of the times they brought you and your sister into the city and Steve listens attentively, smiling at you and feeling grateful that you feel comfortable enough to bring him here and to talk about them – and you, you are surprised yourself when you don’t feel the cold sadness in you that you always felt every time you even mentioned them, talking about them with Steve feels… comforting, he is comforting. 

His knees touch yours beneath the table, the material of his jeans brushing your bare skin, his hand is close to yours, his pinky touching your own. He smiles at you, he laughs with you, he makes silly jokes and feeds you his food, his eyes never stray away from you, there is only you for him right now and as the realization strikes you, you grow hopeful again, your heart skips a beat at the thought that this could be something like… a date. 

You both want the same thing, though what neither of you realize is that you aren’t acting like two nervous people who finally managed to score a date with that one person, you are acting like a couple, not a single awkward moment follows you both, you are talking and laughing with each other like you’re best friends. 

“I have this theory…” Steve says before he takes a sip of his coke. 

You cock your head to the side, “please continue.” 

He places his glass back on the table and picks up his chopsticks again, he chuckles before he opens his mouth once more, “that Dustin is copying Eddie.”

“What?” You laugh. 

“Hear me out, for the past few weeks… Have you seen Dustin’s change of style!? He is wearing all black now! And his hair? It’s fucking long!” He exclaims, shaking his head. 

You’re a little amused by his sudden outburst, by the confused and slightly irritated look on his face, it’s cute. 

“Well, he sees Eddie as a role model, so?” 

"Excuse me?” He scoffs, not liking your words, not liking that the boy that once looked up to him found someone else, someone better to look up to. 

You squint your eyes at him and lean closer to the table, cupping your cheek as you smile, “Steve, is it just me or are you jealous of Eddie?” 

He scoffs again, waving his hand at you, “nonsense.”

“You’re jealous that he stole Dustin from you.” 

Steve shakes his head at you, “I’m not jealous, I’m just saying that– he is following Eddie like some lost puppy, copying him fully! What if he takes on smoking?” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips and Steve can’t even fight the smile off his lips when your soft eyes glow with amusement. 

“Really? He is fifteen, Steve! You were hosting parties at that age and getting drunk, he is not the twelve year old you once met.”

Steve laughs, he leans back in his seat and sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “yeah, I forget that sometimes, he’s not a kid anymore… he’s a teenager,” he chuckles, furrowing his eyebrows, “but come on… Eddie? Eddie’s sense of style? Is Dustin insane?” 

You roll your eyes at him, still amused by him. 

“So, you want him to wear polo shirts and cardigans instead?” 

His lips part and he pretends to be offended, “hey! You like my polo shirts!” 

“Yeah, not the point here.” 

Steve tilts his chin up, smirking at you, “you admit that you like them then?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hair as you start blushing again which prompts him to continue his teasing as he begins to reminisce about your shared days at school, leaving out the saddening memories and only talking of the good ones, the funny ones, memories of your childhood, of your time in kindergarten and middle school and how long you have been a part of each other’s lives and when you leave the restaurant after a long time, you reach for each other’s hands and entwine your fingers together without even thinking about it. 

You stroll through the city and kiss on the streets, like he wanted to all night and it makes you both smile, it makes you feel happy and free and Steve can’t wait for the day when he will find the courage to ask you out on a real date, to ask you to be more than this, to be his, like he pretends you are now as you stand beneath the twinkling lights, surrounded by people, surrounded by the sounds of the city and he can’t stop kissing you, not even when you continue your way to his car, he keeps pulling you into kisses, pressing his lips to yours, to your cheeks, to your hands, to your neck, over and over again, making you giggle and blush at his sweet actions. He’s drunk on you, he is so in love with you that he can’t contain it, he has to show it in some way, he has to let it out, even if not in words. 

Steve holds your hand on your way home, he kisses you at every red light and he sings along to The Smiths, you don’t think that you have ever seen him so carefree and relaxed before. 

And Steve, he had never felt this happy before, nothing, no one can compare to you, to the way you make him feel, to the love he feels for you, to the happiness that flickers in him every time you reach for his hand or bless him with a sweet smile after pressing your lips to his. Those three words that are on the tip of his tongue, beg to be released and he is so close to doing it, so damn close. 

You’re waving your hand in front of your face when you step inside his house, the heat of the summer night feeling too warm on your skin and Steve’s hands on your waist aren’t making it any better, worsening second by second, especially when he keeps making you laugh with his silly comments. 

“I need to cool off.” 

Steve brushes his fingers through your hair and tucks it behind your ears, “cool off? Why, am I this hot?” He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You snort and place your hands on his chest and run your finger down his stomach, hooking it around his belt,  “you’re such a dork.”

Your dork. 

His lips curl into a smirk, he leans down close enough that your noses brush, “mhm, you like it though.” 

Yes, you do, you really do. 

You gaze into his honey eyes, breathing in the scent of his cologne, getting lost in his touch as his hands hold your waist. 

“You know what else I’d like?” You whisper against his lips as you give him a soft kiss, making his breathing hitch and his heart stammer. 

“Hmm?” 

Steve blinks at you, excitement bubbling in his stomach. 

“A cold beer.”

He chuckles, he expected something else but he can’t complain, not when you give him another short kiss. 

You bite your lip and step away from him, letting his hands fall to his sides. You bring your hands up to the buttons of your dress, walking backwards slowly and continuing to gaze into his eyes with mischief in yours, you undo the top buttons, revealing your new bra to him. You almost giggle at his parted lips and the hunger in his eyes. 

Steve gulps as you expose more and more of your skin to him, he could fall to his knees right then and there.

“Don’t take too long,” you murmur, winking at him. You walk away from him and into his living room, humming as you turn on the lights in his backyard before you slide open the big glass doors and step outside. 

The night is quiet and hot, the only sound coming from the crickets and the slight rustling of the trees as soft wind blows through them and then Steve turns on the stereo in the living room, making you smile. You look up at the starry sky and listen to Steve’s footsteps. 

You push the straps of your dress down your shoulders and kick off your shoes, looking over your shoulder to see Steve rushing out with two beers in his hands. 

He places them on the table and steps towards you, tutting at you with a playful glare on his pretty face, “could’ve let me take that pretty dress off,” he murmurs and places his hands on your elbows where your straps hang loosely now. 

His hands are cold from the beers he picked out of the fridge, goosebumps rise on your skin. 

“I didn’t take it off yet,” you shrug, smirking as your hands find their way back to his belt, and you waste no time to unbuckle it. 

Steve smirks back at you, tracing your skin with the tips of his fingers as he slips the straps down your forearms and pushes your dress down, bunching it around your hips, he sucks in a sharp breath and his eyes grow darker, lustful. It certainly isn’t the first time he sees you like this, but his reaction never changes, his body always reacts to you, just the way his heart does. 

You look so beautiful, so goddamn sexy that it drives him crazy. 

Not many words are shared between you but the silence is comfortable and your eyes speak enough words as you undress each other, you take his shirt off and place your hand on his chest, staring at him in awe as he pushes your dress down and lets it fall to the ground, his hands touching your bare skin, fingers tracing your lacy underwear. 

With hooded eyes he looks down at you and he pulls you closer, “is this little set new?” 

You nod, your skin heating up again. 

“Looks so pretty,” he murmurs and leans in to press his lips against your neck, “too bad it’s gonna get wet.”

You sigh at the feeling of his kisses, breathing shakily. 

You start pushing his jeans down, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “take your pants off, Steve.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles and pushes them down his legs, he quickly steps out of them and bends down, hooking his arm around the back of your knees, he scoops you up into his arms, laughing at the surprised squeal that falls from your lips. 

You throw your arms around his neck and hold on tight, looking at him bewildered while he smirks smugly. 

“What are you doing?” 

He steps closer to the edge of his pool, “what do you think I’m doing?” He chuckles, not giving you time to react before he tightens his hold on you and takes another step forward, jumping into the pool and crashing into the water with you, letting the cold envelope you both. 

And you feel it, you feel the freezing water on your skin, the goosebumps that rise and the shivers that ripple through you but not even this takes away the heat you feel inside of you. You taste the chlorine on your lips and you feel his hands on your waist as he pulls you back up with him. 

“Is that cool enough for you, honey?” He asks breathily as he wipes his hand down his face and shakes his head to get the water out of his hair. 

You giggle and stretch your arms out, “mhm, the water feels nice,” you murmur and tilt your head up, glancing at the stars in the sky, smiling at the sound of one of yours and his favorite songs playing on the stereo. 

Steve starts humming along, his eyes tracing your pretty features, your wet hair that still somehow looks just as perfect as it did before, water rolls down your face, your lacy bra now clinging even more to your skin making his hands itch for you. 

The water sloshes around him as he moves closer to you, wanting to feel your body back against his but you seem to have different ideas because when you notice him inching closer to you, you give him a teasing smirk before you turn around and start swimming. 

“Hey!” 

You giggle at the disappointed sound in his voice, that sighs that follows after. 

You feel his hand brushing your foot but unable to get a hold of you, you pick up your pace and start swimming faster, pushing against the water stronger, “you can’t catch me, Lego Head.”

He shakes his head, letting out a laugh. 

“You think you can get away from me?” He teases, diving deeper into the water, he starts swimming after you, “I was a lifeguard, honey.”

“Yeah, you’ve been bragging about it for three years now,” you snort and dare to take a look over your shoulder, “you must’ve been a bad one, ice cream man.”

He laughs again, amused by your comment and by how you slowed down. 

“You’re so funny.”

“I know,” you smirk and turn around again, thinking you can still get away from him but Steve is close, so very close. This time he catches you by your ankle, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back, chuckling at the squeal that falls from your lips, he grabs your waist and embraces you with his arms, pulling against his chest, he holds you tightly, chuckling at the pout on your lips when you look back at him with a frown on your face. 

“Not fair,” you whine and wiggle against him which prompts you to press yourself harder into his chest, into his front, you can feel his bulge against your butt, you can feel how hot his skin is despite the cool water, his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips on your neck. 

You breathe in shakily, the heat inside of you rushing into your core, making you press your legs together as a deep longing takes over you. 

“Guess you’re not that fast after all, huh?” He teases, loving the way your bare skin feels against his. “Didn’t even take me thirty seconds to catch you.” 

You hold onto him tighter, glancing at his lips before your eyes lock with his again, “maybe I just let you catch me.” 

He chuckles, adoring the way you look at him. 

“Yeah sure, Blondie.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around your waist as he starts guiding you away from the middle of the pool and towards the stairs. 

“So what now, do you plan on drowning me?” You joke. 

The water gets lower and lower, exposing your upper body to the cooling wind, making you shiver a little. 

“No, too late for that,” he jokes back with a chuckle, “but I am thinking of something.” 

You tilt your head to the side and raise your brows at him. He moves away from behind you and reaches for your hand as he takes three steps up the stairs, enough to still be in the water once he sits down before you. He licks his lips as he looks you up and down with need and adoration in his eyes, he admires your body, your curves, you. He pulls you a little closer, the water is still hiding your hips, your legs that he loves having wrapped around his waist and his head. 

“What?” You ask softly and curiously. 

Steve looks at you with hooded eyes, with cheeks glowing pink and lips begging to be kissed. 

“I want to fuck you, right here, right now, in my pool, and–” he rasps, glancing up at the sky above you, he points his finger up, “under the full moon.”

Your eyes widen at his words, butterflies that never die growing wild in your stomach, your kneels almost buckle and you have to press your thighs together. 

You follow his gaze and frown when you only see the stars in the sky and the quarter of the moon. 

“That’s not a full moon, Steve–” you gasp when you suddenly feel his hands on your waist and he forces you closer, prompting you to straddle his waist. Your knees hit the steps he’s sitting on, your arms wrap around his neck instinctively. 

“You’re a stupid moron,” you whisper with no venom in your voice or your eyes. 

Steve blinks, smirking at you. 

“And you are too naive,” he whispers back, squeezing your waist as you lean into each other, not even noticing that you did as you shared your soft whispers. 

You smile at one another, your noses brushes and you close your eyes as your lips meet in a soft kiss, a kiss enough to steal your breath. 

You move your palm down his strong shoulder, squeezing his bicep and resting your other hand on his back, deepening the kiss as he parts your lips with his tongue, blessing you with the sound of his moan. 

Steve runs his hand down your waist and to your hips, gripping your body tightly, pulling you closer and closer until you’re flush against him. He can’t help but gasp when you grind against his erection, filling him with more need. 

Your soft kiss grows faster, hungrier, needy but still passionate and despite the lack of air, you don’t pull away just yet. You run your hand down his hairy chest, his stomach, making him shiver against you. You tug at his boxers, pulling them down just far enough for you to wrap your hand around his dick. 

“Baby,” he whispers against your lips, continuing to press kisses to your mouth as he tugs at your panties, “let me–”

“No,” you whisper as you jerk him off slowly, pumping him a few times and teasing his slit with your thumb, “I need you.” 

You don’t need no preparation, you don’t need his fingers or his tongue, not right now, you only need him, to feel him, all of him. 

“F-Fuck,” he breathes shakily, moaning at the feeling of your soft hand around him, “please… I want you, I need you so bad.”

You whimper as his fingers dig deeper into your skin, his words rushing to your heart and your core. 

You push your panties to the side and waste no other second to guide him to your entrance, looking into his pleading eyes that watch you in awe as you sink down on him, taking him slowly and moaning out his name in pleasure as your eyebrows scrunch together. The water pressure making it a little harder to do so, and it is a weird yet not unpleasant feeling. 

“J-Just like that, baby,” he whimpers, his hands holding you tightly, his eyes flickering between your face and your body, the pleasure in him growing deeper and stronger, “you’re doing so well… fuck… you feel so good,” he groans when he feels your warmth enveloping him fully. 

His right hand settles on your lower back, moving up to the middle and the top and then he wraps his hand around the back of your neck so he can pull you even closer, he presses his lips back to yours, pecking them one, two, three times. 

“Steve,” you whimper, tears brimming in your eyes from the pleasure in your body, from the size of him. You bite down on your lip and suppress a moan, when you’re fully seated on top of him, you feel a wave of different emotions rushing through you. His kisses, his touches, his hugs and his compliments, the sweet things he says to you, the sweet things he does for you overwhelming you in the best way possible. 

Something changed, something was different today, this feels different. 

You pull him into an even deeper kiss than before, letting your emotions take full control over your actions. 

Steve doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the sudden kiss, he even smiles into it, feeling his heart beating in joy. 

You start riding him slowly, moving your hips at a torturing pace as you’re still getting used to his size. You’re clenching around him, your slick coating his dick and Steve feels it all so intensely. 

The strap of your bra slips down your wet arm but you don’t bother to fix it.

Steve cups your cheeks as your tongues clash together, your needy whimpers vibrate against his lips but he notices how quiet they sound compared to moans and screams you let out when you’re in his bed. 

“Let them out, baby,” he murmurs as you both pull away from the kiss, your breaths mingling together as your lips keep brushing against one another. He tucks your wet hair behind your ears and slips his hands down your body, settling on your hips, he gives you a lazy smile, his eyes already fucked out, “let me hear your pretty moans,” he whispers, trying to coax his favorite sounds out of you as he starts fucking up into you. 

You gasp and hold on tighter, furrowing your eyebrows even more, the feeling of him splitting you open, fucking you deeper making you whimper in need. 

“P-Public, neighbors might hear, Steve–” You whine as you meet his thrusts, continuing to roll your hips despite the nervousness that lingers in you from not wanting to get caught, but it’s hard to keep quiet when he feels so good. 

Steve couldn’t care less about his neighbors, the bushes around his house hide his backyard well enough, there is no need to worry. 

“Let them hear,” he whispers into your neck as he presses his lips to your delicate skin. 

Your heart stutters in your chest, surprise sparks in you because he wants people to hear you, both of you, he doesn’t care about hiding, he didn’t care about it at all today. 

His strong hands hold your hips, his cock sliding in and out of you, sending waves of pleasure through your belly, his moans echo through the night and you can’t help but get lost in the moment of this. 

You bury your fingers in his hair and your face in his neck, whining as you pick up the pace, riding him faster than before, causing the water to splash around you both. His chest hair brushes against your boobs, his lips suck on your skin, his moans vibrate against you as he kisses you through it all. 

“Just like that,” he hums, satisfaction tugging at him when he feels you drooling over his neck, your hot tears falling down on his skin, “look at me, honey, I wanna see your face.” 

You gather your strength to pull back far enough for him to see you and those tears he caused to fall from your eyes. You’re whimpering and clenching around him tightly, making him match the sounds that fall from your lips. 

His hazel eyes are dark, his lips puffy and cheeks redder than before, his wet skin glowing under the string lights in his backyard. God, he looks so beautiful, especially when he is moaning your name and clinging to you. 

He cups the side of your face and you make his heart flutter in his chest when you lean into his touch. 

For a moment, he leans back the slightest bit just to see you, to watch how you ride him, how you take him, how much pleasure he brings you, how your face scrunches up so prettily, how your lips curl into a pout, how your boobs threaten to spill out of your bra as you bounce on his dick, whimpering his name, over and over again. 

God, he loves you, he loves you so fucking much that it physically hurts him to hide those words from you, everything inside of him screams at him to say them, to let you know, to confess to you, to show you how much he wants you, how deep his feelings for you are. 

His own eyes burn with tears, pleasure and emotions mixing together as he watches you, convinced that there is something behind your eyes as well, feelings, adoration, love. 

There has to be something, right? 

You wouldn’t hold his hand just for the fun of it, you wouldn’t kiss him and let him feel you, have you like this if there wasn’t something in your heart for him. You wouldn’t spend nights in his arms and dinners with him if it was casual. 

It’s not casual, it just can’t be. 

You have to feel it too, you have to feel the love. 

You just have to. 

Your name falls from his lips and when you wrap your arms around him again and you lean your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes with something, you grow tighter around him, making his moans louder. 

I love you. 

He traces words into your skin that he can’t say out loud because he is too afraid to lose you because while there is hope in him, there is also fear, fear that he is misunderstanding something again. 

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Steve wants to whisper them to you, to say them to you, to scream them out into the open for the whole world to hear. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your heart explode in your chest. 

“So are you,” you whisper back, shakily, wishing you could say something else, something more. 

Steve looks up at you as though you’re something special, like you aren’t the girl he once hated, like you are his and it prompts you to peck his lips, over and over again just the way he always does to you. 

Waves of pleasure crash over the both of you as you chase your high together, you moan against each others lips as his hand moves down your stomach and his fingers settle between your thighs, no words are spoken anymore when he presses against your clit gently, rubbing circles against your sensitive nub, your high pitched moans, his deep thrusts and the begging looks in both your eyes are enough. 

You kiss and you both move, faster than before, you cling to one another harder, stronger, deeper than ever, your lips moving feverishly with each other, desperation and love behind all your movements, a searing heat cursing through you both, overwhelming your poor hearts that long for each other so pleadingly. 

And when you both reach your peak, Steve has to press his lips strongly to yours so he doesn’t spill the words that become harder to keep in. He kisses you for as long as he can, he kisses you through your high and through the aftermath, your movements slow down and your hearts beat slower, he still doesn’t pull away, if anything, he tightens his arms around you, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting this night to end. 

He wants to smile, he wants to feel happy but a part of him is so scared, after tonight especially. 

You showed him something that he could lose at any given moment, you made him feel things he didn’t even think he was capable of feeling, you lit the fire inside of him again, you made his heart feel again, you made him love again, stronger than he ever did before, he didn’t even think a love like this was possible, he didn’t think he could love so deeply. 

What will there be if he loses you? 

He experienced heartbreak before but nothing would compare to this, not even his first love could make him feel such excruciating pain that you will curse him with when you decide to leave him. 

His heart pains at the thought, it already begins to break just thinking of the possibility. 

Steve clings to you, when you pull away from the kiss, he buries his face in your neck and breathes you in, he holds you tightly as though he is afraid that you might disappear if he lets you go. 

He needs to feel you, he needs you against him, he needs to savor every moment you still allow him with you. 

Steve can’t bear to lose you, not you, he can get through anything, he can get over anything but not you. 

And while he is filled with fear, inwardly begging for you to stay, for you to be the one to be by his side – you are holding onto him with hope, with a smile on your face, unaware of the fear that lingers in the man that you love with all your heart.

You never thought you’d be in this position. That you’d ever feel like this when it came to Steve. You never thought you would feel confident in this relationship, potential, a future in it. The fear slowly decreases in each caress he gives you, in every touch, in every kiss. A fear you never thought you would lose in your life.

All you ever imagined in this love you had for him was pain. Everything ended in pure heartbreak and loneliness for you. Now, that image doesn’t come to mind. That picture you painted is no longer vivid in your head. 

And this is when you realize that you have a chance. You truly have a chance.

You decide to push it all aside, the anxiety, the fear of rejection, the fear of loss, you push it all away, no longer allowing the sadness and the fear to control you, if today wasn’t the push that you needed then you don’t know what else will. 

All the signs you weren’t sure of are there, they are there, colorful and bright, for you to see so clearly and you no longer move away from them, you move towards them, allowing yourself to feel hope that he can feel the same. 

And when you two go to bed that night after a long shower together, you cuddle and you kiss each other sweetly, whispering words of affection to one another, tracing each other's skin and holding one another tight. 

You make a decision. 

Tomorrow… Tomorrow will be the day you decide to confess. It cannot wait any longer. It cannot be postponed. It is inevitable, and you cannot handle the pain of loving him and being just this item with him any longer, especially not after this night. 

Having him like this is no longer enough. 

Keeping those three words in becomes less possible after every kiss, every touch, every whisper.

Tomorrow your life will change. 

And hopefully for the better. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars @moon-flowerrs

[rosenclaws]

Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

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a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting. 

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.” 

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag.  You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos. 

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench. 

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be. 

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need. 

[jolalibrary]

DO YOU WANT ME TO HOLD YOU?

javier peña x f!reader summary: javi offers comfort when you need it the most. warnings: none, just comfort on a bad day.

Just thinking about Javier Peña realising the moment you'd taken a seat at your desk that you’re different today. Something wrong, different. That you’re weighed down, sad.

There’s no snark, for one. No bite. There’s an absence of comments about the fact he’s wearing the fucking-red-devil-shirt. It niggling, bothering him, irking him as he tries to solve if you’re being quiet with him, or everyone.

It’s confirmed an hour later, when you make no snide comment to someone else—one you’d usually quickly jump on—that it’s a wider thing than just him.

He struggles to admit that he misses it, your sarcasm. practically hearing it in his head in the same tone you use when it’s just the two of you—there when he's walking you into his place right to the moment before he’s pinning you to his sheets.

And it takes him a moment, another half an hour before he can pull you into the file room, a hard stare reflecting at him.

This where you bring girls when you want a workday fuck, Peña?

He smirks, leaning against the door—taking it because it’s something. Better than nothing. Jaw slides to the side as he folds his arms, waiting, and waiting. Clearing his throat when he sees your façade falling.

“You needed a minute.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at the idea. Fidgeting, likely feeling exposed—making his pulse quicken, as he hopes he’s not wrong, not overstepped. The air is so tense and silent, it's loud when he scratches at his jawline, when he runs his palm over his face.

“I’m okay.”

And he kicks off from the door. A considerable gap is still there, but the hard expression from earlier is gone, vanished, leaving behind evidence of a bad night's sleep and a head full of voices sketched across your face.

“Do you want me to hold you?”

You pull your head back, just slightly. Staring, before your eyes dart to the side, bottom lip quivering, blinking, likely swallowing back the lump in your throat as he takes in a heavy breath.

“No,” you whisper.

“Do you want me to hold you, hermosa?”

He watches it shift. Watches it arrive. The tremor first as your resolve begins to snap, to crack right down the middle as angry, tear-filled eyes meet him. He suspects there's hard-to-swallow thickness there in your throat as you nod, and he’s quick, arms engulfing, wrapping—clinging to put the parts of you together as you shudder and break.

It’s crushing, heart-wrenching. hand cupping the back of your head to his shoulder, other around your waist—a familiar place, but today’s circumstances are foreign.

Sob, after sob ripping through you, drowning out his own heartbeat. and then you cough, clear your throat.

“Gonna wet your shirt.”

He smiles, soft, light, just in the corners. “Don’t care.”

You hiccup, cling a little tighter, turn your head on him so you can look up, and he can see your swollen eyes.

“People will think you care.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad…”

“Javi…”

He snorts, airy, gentle. pressing a kiss to your forehead, not loosening his hold on your hip. “Now I know something’s wrong, only call me that when you’re bouncing on my—”

Your hand firmly slapping his chest makes the rest of the words dilute. As he rests his head against yours, not letting go, not until you do.

jo needed comfort today 🫂 written on phone, so sorry for errors my loves.

[sillysowa]

RUNWAY MODEL

PAIRING: hobie brown x fem!reader

GENRE: suggestive, smut

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

WARNINGS: smut, vaginal fingering, choking (fem! and male receiving), vaginal sex, both hobie and reader are switches

AUTHORS NOTE: not proofread cause i’m so tired i can feel my eyes melting

SYNOPSIS: in which hobie brown is a model, and you are his favorite designer

—

Hobie walked into your studio nonchalantly with no apparent purpose, like usual. The day had been long and he was tired of bending around for the photographers, wanting to visit his favorite designer. He sat his tall figure in the chair across from you, kicking his legs up on the desk because he knows it doesn’t bother you,

“Oh, Hobie…you’re still here?” You mumbled drowsily, exhaustion present in your hoarse voice. It’s late and you probably shouldn’t still be here at the studio, but you’re so caught up in your work. Hobie leans forward slightly, catching glimpse at the scribble artistic designs that he can tell after for him,

“Mhm,” Hobie hums, “You never tire of this work do you?” He chuckles, leaning back and tossing around a pen of yours, “Y’alright? Must be tired.” He asks in that deep voice of his,

You sigh, “Of course…just…gotta get this right.” You scribble around on the paper,

Hobie’s interest is piqued at this and he eyes the sketch pad, “You know I’ll wear whatever you come up with.” He leans back in the chair, still studying the work in progress, “Don’t have to do such hard work f’me.”

“I know…that’s what makes it so complex…I mean there’s so many different things I can see you in! Like…this maybe?” You ramble, flipping around your sketch pad to show him the punk rock outfit you had crafted for him. It’s skimpy to say the least, exposing his abs, most of his legs, and the pants hang low, exposing that pretty V-line of his that you’ve seen with watchful eyes as he gets his pictures taken for especially seductive shoots.

Hobie studies the artworks with squinty eyes, a smirk spreading across his face,

“I like that one…” He smiles knowingly, bringing his feet off the desk to support his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He glances up at the design again, and then back at you,

“You always do these designs f’me, hm? Am I your favorite model?” He teases, smirking a little like he knows a secret.

You smile and lean back, chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment in contemplation, “I mean you’re honestly probably my favorite out of all the models I’ve worked with.“ You say bluntly, wanting to only slightly allude to how deep your desire for Hobie is. Clearly, it’s written all over your face. You notice his stare as he obviously tries not to smile,

“Wanna expand on that? You look a little…flustered.” His voice drops low, his flickering down to your lips and even lower for a moment.

“I’m not. You’re a stunning model, Hobie.” You smile, continuing your work. Your face is burning hot and you can’t look at him because all you’re thinking about is how how badly you want him to bend you over the table with his long fingers around your neck. He suddenly changes the topic,

“D’you think I could do a gig solely on m’hands?” He asks like he knows the answer, “I think you’re someone who can appreciate their beauty, hm? With your drawings n’all?” He smirks teasingly and you feel your heart drop into your stomach,

“What?”

“Well you’ve drawn my hands about a hundred times…I’ve seen it. Can’t even keep your eye off of em when we talk.” He replies, leaning in and shortening the distance between the two of you between the table. Clearly, he had been through your sketchbook—your stomach churned at the thought,

“And how would you know that?” You whisper, flustered at the idea of of being caught in a sense but so fucking up for this challenge that he’s offering—there’s nothing to be ashamed of now that he obviously knows you have a severe hand kink. He keeps smiling at you as if he was entertained by all this,

“Doesn’t matter. What does the bough is that you must take a hefty liking to my fingers, right?” He says, flexing them again across the table, stretched out to their full length. You don’t even give in to your desire, eyes locked on the way his middle and ring finger press together suggestively a d make your face feel hot.

You bite your lip, tearing your eyes away as you flip the pages on your sketchbook to change the subject,

“A-Anyways, I’ve also got this design you could try…”

Hobie just smiles and leans back, deciding to let it go for now and toy with you later. He looks at the papers for a while before he speaks up,

“You’ve done a great job.” Hobie says in awe, gesturing to the designs with a nod of his head and that signiature sly smile, “I like ‘em.” Hobie’s tone switches to his playful-work-voice of his now, and he reaches his hands out, gripping the edge of the desk as he stands,

“So, Y/N,” Hobie starts looking down on you. “Got any of these ready for me to try on?” He asks, leaning down to your eye level.

You squirm a little in your seat, your thighs clenching together. He always gets you so riled up you’ve never had this kind of one on one time together. You often just catch glimpse of him during his shoots,

“Yeah…I actually have one of them here if you really want to try it out early,” You say excitedly, walking to the clothing rack and plucking it off. Its gorgeous, grungy, and incredibly revealing. The other designers love to see Hobie in multiple layers and a lot of baggy clothing, but when you got lucky enough to catch the photographers bending Hobie around in nothing but tight boxers for his Calvin Klein shoot—you nearly died, “It’s a little skimpy.”

“Oh yeah? Just f’me?” Hobie chuckles, walking up behind you in the dimly lit room and brushing his hand onto of yours to grab the clothing hanger. He looks at you with his head over your shoulder, awfully close,

“If you wanted to see me naked could’ve just asked” Hobie teases, whispering in your ear before turning away from you. To your utmost horror and delight, he starts stripping right then and there,

“Oh my god you slut, right infront of me?” You gasp, turning around letting out a quick laugh in disbelief. Your face feels hot after catching the sight of his jeans catching on his dick as he pulled them down, looking at you out of the corner of his eye,

A snicker comes from Hobie as he gets undressed in a fashion comparable to a strip-tease,

“Oh come on doll, it’s not like you haven’t seen me at work with even less on. I don’t mind you watching.” He pry’s, his voice taunting and inviting like a sweet honey. You think of your job. You think about how you thought you were alone only 10 minutes ago before Hobie strolled in. It’s beyond after hours, and it’s just the two of you—quite literally a recipe for disaster. Hobie finished getting dressed, standing up straight in the designer outfit,

“Alright, alright, it’s safe you prude. Come get a look at your creation.” Hobie holds his arms out, flipping them and getting a look at it all himself before smiling at you. You turn and look at him and instantly your eyes as they widen,

“Oh…my…god…” You gasp, “You look so good!” Excitement covers your to face as you walk up to him, inspecting how everything fits. You marvel in the way his toned chest looks on display and his nipple piercings under the sheer top. The studded jewelry and leather accessories add so much to the look but most of all…his hands in those fingerless gloves are to die for. You inspect them closely, pulling them towards you as you dreamily stare at his long fingers, toying with them in your hands,

Hobie smiles in the silence of your admiration, “Y’know it’s kinda funny...” He murmurs. His left hand gently holds onto yours, lacing your fingers with his. His other hand grazes your side,

You freeze and look up at him—instantly, your stomach drops at his gaze, “What’s funny?”

“You clearly got a hand kink or something…or is it just mine, hm? Got a thing for me, miss designer?” He teases, gently pulling you close with his knee in between your legs. Your heart beats in your chest like a drum and your toes curl in your shoes. You lick your lips, melting at the proximity,

“Well it looks like you’ve got me all figured out huh?” You whisper as your skin warms under his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin. You shouldn’t be doing this…but it feels too good to stop,

“Yeah?” He pulls you up in an embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with his hot breath on your sensitive skin. His left hand grips your hair as he whispers into your ear,

“Say it.” Hobie enunciates every syllable, his lips hovering over the sensitive skin of your ear. You press your body against him and all logical reasoning leaves your mind,

“I want you.” You groan into his ear, balling your fists around his mesh shirt. Hobie grins, and his voice is low and husky when he whispers,

“I know you do. I want you too, dollface.” He wraps his arm around you fully, one hand still in your hair, and the other around your back. He stares straight ahead, his knee edging further up between your legs as he whispers,

“Let me show you…” He whispers into your ear, biting it gently and leaning down to kiss your neck. Your mind melts and you nearly collapse against him—it’s an all numbing feeling to have model lips like Hobie’s on your neck and his tall stature holding you so close,

You moan softly and dig your fingers into his clothes at the feeling, his lips on your neck make you feel so good inside. His large thigh slides up and now your skirt is pushing and your warm pussy is on his thigh. It’s lewd and oh so embarrassing until he groans, his voice all needy and horny, right in your ear,

“Oh, fuck…you’re already so wet? I’ve barely touched you, love.” He coo’s clicking his tongue, slipping his hands under the back of your shirt and undoing your bra in a swift, skilled motion. He toys with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. After getting you topless, his hands are palming your breasts wasting absolutely no time. You throw your head back and shamelessly whine at the feeling—the feeling being indescribable desire,

“God I just knew those—ah! Mmm-knew those hands would feel so good.” Your breath hitches in your throat as you mewl, his fingers pinching your nipples while you’re mid sentence. He laughs darkly at you, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth, squirming his tongue around the small bud,

“Mmm…” He hums around your skin, his eyes rolling into the back of his head for your viewing pleasure—and oh does it do things to you. Your desperate moans echo in the empty studio, the low lighting reflecting off of Hobie’s dark eyes driving you crazy,

One of his hands grabs your chin, and he stands up straight again, lifting your face up so that he could look into your eyes, “Keep making those pretty noises, gorgeous…” He murmurs, his eyes on yours flickering down to your lips.

You so badly want to kiss him that you can’t even wait for him, pulling him the collar of his shirt and meshing your lips against his in a matter of seconds, capturing his lips in a moral-melting kiss. You knew if anyone saw you two—colleagues—grinding and kissing in the studio late at night, you’d both lose your jobs on the spot; but there was no stopping now. His lips were like magic on yours. You felt your heart rate pickup the moment his hands met your thighs and he picked you up, walking you to the desk and never once breaking away from the desperate needy kiss you were sharing. When it starts to get to your head and you feel a need for air, you break away from the kiss, panting and looking into his lust blown eyes,

“Fuck me on that desk…right now.”

Hobie is shocked for a quick moment before a grin spreads across his face. He wastes no time in laying you onto the desk and kissing his way down your stomach, his fingers toying with the top of your skirt,

“What do you say I put these long fingers of mine to use, hm?” Hobie’s whispers, his voice raspy and sending need straight to your aching pussy.

“You better…” You thrust your hips up as he removes your skirt, his fingers grazing your thighs before he spits onto them, shoving two right into your tight pussy,

“Not so sure i’m the model anymore—fucking look at you…” Hobie groans, kissing your thighs as he slowly thrusts his fingers into you. His pace is agonizing, and you grab him by his wrist,

“Please…just shut up and fuck me…I’ve seen how big it is and I can’t wait any longer…” You grunt and Hobie’s eyes widen more than you’ve ever seen. It’s his turn to look flustered and the feeling of being spoken to in such a dirty manner is enough to make his dick twitch in his pants,

“How can I deny such an offer?” He laughs breathlessly, standing up and unbuckling his spikey belt, pulling everything down and letting his cock spring free. It’s long, and thick, and there’s precum leaking from his tip like the glaze on your favorite dessert. He feels his face heat up at your hungry stare, leaning down and cupping his hands in the bend of your legs, pushing them down at your sides and spreading your legs wide open for him,

“Please—“

“Yeah I know…” Hobie groans, smearing his pre-cum across your pussy and gently thrusting into you. It takes your breath away and shakes the desk, your mouth hanging open as a guttural moan tumbles out of your mouth,

Hobie groans and kisses your neck, “You’re so fucking tight.” Hobie whispers, his voice shaking. He groans and slams his hips into yours, his hands gripping your hips as he desperately fucks into you. Never in your entire life had you felt something so big inside of you—so filling and so fucking good. Of course a model as gorgeous as Hobie has such a perfect dick—but this position isn’t doing it for you.

You sit up, your hands on his chest as you push him down onto the desk and crawl on top. Hobie looks pleasantly surprised at this, his hands coming up to your hips,

“Fuck…” He whines, his head thrown back and his adams apple bobbing in his neck. You sink down on his length, grunting so loud you’d think it’s injuring you as your hand comes to Hobie’s neck. You give him a gentle squeeze and he nods at you, his eyelashes fluttering as he slaps your ass,

“C’mon.”

You ride him like your life depends on it, your hands tight around his neck and his clothes. The studio echoes with both of your moans and you feel your head spinning as his cock melts your insides, the sensation eliciting desperate moans out of you.

Hobie feels lightheaded and delirious with your hand around his neck and your pussy squeezing him so good, broken moans, grunts, and whimpers leaving his lips. The messy sounds fill the dark room and you can barely hold on any longer,

“Give it to me—please…”

You squeeze his neck just right and his hand comes up to yours as you ride him, your pussy clenching and your orgasm nearing. Now both of you are gripping each others necks, grunting and panting and falling apart so beautifully,

“I’m gonna—“ Hobie starts but he doesn’t finish…well he does. He cums deep inside you as you continue to ride him through it all, making a sloppy mess and coating his dick and thighs in cum. His head falls back against the hard wood and you ride his soul out until you cum. When you do, you’re shaking and moaning loudly, your hands moving from his neck to his shoulders to support yourself as you nearly pass out, pulling too hard on the mesh shirt and tearing it down his chest,

Hobie’s breathing is slow yet heavy as he tries to get a grip on reality now. His hands are still holding your hips and his brain still feels like jell-o, but he’s slowly coming to his senses,

“Y’look so good fucked out like this.” He mumbles, smoothing his thumbs over your bare skin,

“You think I’m the one who’s fucked out?” You giggle as you look Hobie over. His makeup is smudged, his clothes torn, and his eyebrows are as furrowed as they were when he came. He looks perfect, because how could he look anything but? He’s a model…and he’s your art no matter what,

“Wait stay right there…” You smile, walking behind him to your desk drawers and getting your camera, coming back around to his front. Hobie rolls his eyes and laughs incredulously at you, holding his pose with his elbows behind him, his lips parted and his eyebrows pinched, and his cock on full display still pumping its cum. You snap the picture and instantly swear to yourself that this would not be the last time you fuck Hobie.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

[drexee]

IM BACK WITH ANOTHER SLEEP HEADCANON! This time it’s for Donnie!!

I hope you enjoy!

Bayverse Don x gn!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Spelling maybe

Raph | Leo | Mikey

Donnie Sleep HCs

Donatello’s bed is just big enough to fit him comfortably without him dangling over the sides

He has a pretty sizable blanket, and it’s actually a weighted blanket! Something that will put him to sleep and keep him asleep. Like 15lbs-25lbs

About four regular sized, plush pillows

He used to have a body pillow too

The bed itself is pushed up and out of the way, against the farthest wall of his room. His desk is against the opposite wall

Donnie absolutely sees the importance of having his room as a place to sleep and be away from work

But try as he might, his room still becomes littered with various sketches, blueprints, or notes

He cleans up as much as he can, but it just keeps happening so he gave up 😅

Donatello doesn’t spend too much time in his room though, constantly at work and tinkering away in his lab. He’s a workaholic, you know this.

To get Donnie to bed is a challenge in itself, but not impossible.

Luckily, he loves spending time with you, so you only need to ask him once.

Or twice.

Maybe three times, but he’s almost done! Promise! Just need to make sure that one part was secure and wasn’t going to grow legs and walk away by morning

Donnie’s favorite position is one where he’s facing you: him laying on his side, shell supported by a pillow or two

He’ll leave little kisses on what he can reach of you, but they’re so feather light, you barely even know they’re there. He’s too afraid of waking you up

He likes to either have his forehead pressed to yours or have your head tucked under his chin, he craves closeness

He tends to bring your leg up and hook it over his own. He’ll then scooch himself further into your space until you two are properly locked together and honestly? At that point? He couldn’t care less about anything else in the world. He’s not moving from you.

Through the night though, your legs become so tangled with his, you don’t know where he ends and you begin, like you were playing twister in your sleep or something

Donnie loves it when you use his arm as a pillow!

He knows it’s gonna go numb, but he doesn’t mind. He would take pins and needles over anything if it meant you got good sleep

His other arm is usually wrapped around you to hold you close, he likes to rub your back too! It’s a sure fire way to knock you out

It makes his heart go all fluttery whenever he thinks about that because he loves that he just knows you so well

He adores laying in bed with you and doesn’t fall asleep until well after you doze off just so he can look at you

It never really crossed his mind that it may be a bit weird to watch you sleep. You’re cute, and it calms him down. It’s his favorite past time.

Is he obsessed? No.

Maybe.

A little.

But is it obsession if you’re both in love? He’s caught you staring at him too! He knows you do the same!

Yeah, so he’s counted all your eyelashes, all your beauty marks, and logged every sigh you make into his long term.

And yeah, he keeps track of your REM cycle so he knows exactly how long it takes for you to slip off into deep sleep, and - Whatever!!! Just let him have this! Who are you?? The Police???

Donnie is a normal sleeper most nights and doesn’t move too much, may twitch a bit, but other than that, nothing.

Doesn’t make a peep when he’s knocked out, but breathes very deeply

Unless he gets an idea!! He used to just jolt out of bed to his desk, but he’s taken a tumble too many times (he kept forgetting the mess of limbs you two create) and has since learned how to stealthily slip away and back into you once he’s done

He gets a few nightmares, and he may unintentionally wake you if he gets too caught up in them.

But when you wake him up from one of those terrible dreams and cuddle with him? Ohhh he falls. He falls so hard for you. Especially when you rub your thumb across his cheek and talk him through his breathing

Your soothing words are like a balm to his overworked brain and he’s forever grateful for you

He’s pretty sure he’s got hearteyes

You’ve gotten a few chirps out of him like that, and he’s so embarrassed about them pLEASE DONT TEASE HIM 😭

He won’t get mad, but he’ll get so flustered and then you’ll have a child lock on your phone and he’ll have no idea what you’re talking about

Donnie’s usually awake before you, and will spend a few minutes basking in your warmth before he goes to grab you something quick to drink for when you wake up.

And when he comes back to see you curled up around his pillow? The thought that even in sleep you search for him and need him close to you?

It makes his knees buckle

And it takes everything in him to not just slip right back under those covers and replace that pillow you’ve grabbed onto

Right!! There’s numero dos!! Until next time!

[hyunebunx]

saw the soft thoughts post and i hope i’m not late >.< please forgive my typos or grammatical errors love i just woke up 🥹

soooo imagine a lazy saturday morning with hyunjin where you both just wanted to sleep in and cuddle on your shared bet until late in the morning. apparently you had to force yourself to get up because you were getting hungry and hyunjin—being a clingy boyfriend—is sticking to you like glue, and be like “noooooo don’t go!!!” because he doesn’t want to get out of bed but you had to drag him up. he became a pouty baby while being clingyyyy maybe a backhug when you were cooking, a stolen kiss when you were about to eat, helping you wash the dishes but he put some soap bubbles on the tip of your nose, asked you to go out and the spend the rest of the day with him outside maybe stroll around the city, an art museum date, go to a café and watch him sketch/paint you~

ughh to be loved by an artist bro i’m still half asleep so i hope i’m making sense... anyway have a good one deni ! 😽🩷

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff and a loooot of kissing, you've been warned lol

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my love <3 this is the cutest idea ever!! thank you so so much for trusting me to write it hehe <3 listen, this got quite steamy in the middle, idk what happened i blacked out fgsdgkj can't help myself when it comes to this man apparently. anywayss, hope you'll enjoy it <333

Mornings spent sleeping in with the love of your life, all cuddle up and intertwined, were truly your absolute favorite, a blessing you didn’t take for granted. You were both busy people, with busy lives that accommodated one another like it was the most natural thing in the world, fitting together like the last two pieces needed to complete the puzzle which revealed your love story.

Hyunjin was a heavy sleeper, clinging to every thread, no matter how thin, that transported him to dreamland to rest a little more. Just five more minutes, that turned into ten, fifteen, which ended up stretching into half an hour on good days. On the bad ones, when he was more tired than usual, nothing could get Hyunjin out of bed before the afternoon rolled around. You understood – he needed his rest – but it didn’t make missing him and his bright smile any easier.

You never knew you could miss someone even while they were dozing off next to you, blissfully unaware of how your heart almost jumped out of your chest to slip under his shirt just to feel his beating, desperately searching for confirmation he felt the same. And he did, of course he did, how could he not when your name and sweet face were constantly spinning around in his mind like some sort of live wallpaper, making him unable to concentrate even on simple tasks?

Though right now, neither of you was sleeping, cuddling to Hyunjin’s chest with one leg over his lap as you caught him up on the latest work gossip. You’ve been awake for almost two hours now and for once, the universe seemed to be on your side as no sunray managed to peek through the small crack left in the curtains, allowing you to continue lying around in peace.

“Anyway, so the printer caught on fire and that was Kim’s last straw. She threw all the papers on the floor and then proceeded to plop down on them and cry. I felt so bad.”

Despite his empathetic nature, Hyunjin lets out a short laugh, voice still husky and laced with sleep as his fingers tangled in your hair. “How did she even manage to do that?”

“It wasn’t her fault.” You yawn, hiding your face in his chest briefly. “Jay used the printer last to scan pictures of his cat’s toe beans and I guess some fur got stuck in there and ruined everything.”

He slowly shakes his head, whistling. “See, that’s why I’m a dog person.”

Prompting your chin on his chest, you look at him with raised eyebrows. “Ok Mr. meows at cats because he wants to get into their good graces.”

“That was one time!”

You giggle and he joins soon after, staring deeply into your eyes until the laughter dies down and every thought leaves your mind like it wasn’t even there to begin with. Dark eyes dart between yours and your lips, subconsciously licking his plush bottom one and telling you exactly where his train of thought has stopped. Patience was not one of Hyunjin’s virtues, so the hand in your hair moves lower to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as you quickly adjust, both hands sprawling on his chest to help you lean down and finally connect your lips.

The kiss is slow, lips merging perfectly as neither of you is in any rush, content to take the time to taste each other. However, it quickly gets messy, tongues meeting and complicating the familiar dance, making it hot and breathy but oh so delicious. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit you’ve been waiting for this ever since he woke up, constantly thinking about his rosy lips and driving yourself crazy as whatever he was saying faded in and out of hazy memory.

Hyunjin kissed you like no other, like kissing was an art he invented just to practice on you. One he managed to master throughout the years of your relationship but couldn’t get enough of, obsessed with the idea of improving and finding another unexplored corner he could take over and claim as his own.

A cold hand slides easily under your top, gripping at your waist in an effort to bring you closer, almost causing your arms to give out. You break away from the kiss and Hyunjin whines, displeased but still helps you settle on top of him more comfortably, guiding your body as you straddle his hips.

This new position allows for better access to what you’re both desiring, with Hyunjin wasting no more time in bringing you back down again, capturing your lips. With both hands on exposed thighs, the shirt he gave you to sleep in barely covering anything, Hyunjin loses himself in the taste of you, licking into your mouth and lightly biting on your bottom lip as your hands move lower over his stomach, needing to discard him of the annoying clothing.

You make to pull away but his lips follow, causing him to sit up and move one of his hands on the small of your back for support, not allowing you to slip away from him. With a mind of their own, your hands quickly abandon his shirt and move around his shoulders, meeting at his nape to deepen the kiss and lick at his bottom lip which he appreciates by the groan he lets out.

You feel him everywhere, hands groping and squeezing every bit of your body in the exact way he knew you loved, turning you to putty into his hold. By now, his dark hair is a mess from all the pulling – your fingers needed something to anchor onto.

“Hyun.” You inhale deeply, his lips moving down your jaw, restless.

“Yeah, baby?” He mumbles, barely hearing you.

“Breakfast.” You gasp out as he lightly bites the skin, quick to soothe it with his tongue. “I’m hungry.” Mostly true, you’ve been lying here for hours after all, who wouldn’t be hungry? But also because you knew if you didn’t stop him now, neither of you would get to eat anything before dinner time rolls around.

Hyunjin pauses, hot breath fanning your neck as he slowly tilts his head to look at you, his wet and swollen lips distracting. He’s speechless for a moment, almost like he can’t believe you interrupted him, like a child whose favorite toy is abruptly taken away. When it clicks in his head you are actually serious, Hyunjin barely registers the way you peck his lips as he rolls his eyes.

“Wow, ok connoisseur of romance. What a way to ruin the moment.”

You giggle as he gently lays you down on your back, knowing he could never be truly upset, no matter what kind of stunt you pull. He was most likely thankful you said something, surely hungry himself.

Scooting towards the end of the bed, your feet barely get to touch the hardwood floor before Hyunjin’s arms circle your middle once again, pulling you to his warm chest without a word.

“No, don’t go!” He whines, burring his head in your shoulder in protest.

Your heart squeezes in your chest, pounding from all the love you carried for your other half, the man you couldn’t imagine life without.

“Baby.” You coo, softly running your fingers over his hands on your stomach in a way to coax him. “How am I supposed to cook us breakfast otherwise?”

Hyunjin sighs, squeezing you to his chest for two more heartbeats before releasing his hold and allowing you to stand up. When you turn to face him, one of his big hands has already brought yours to his lips to plant a feather like kiss on your knuckles.

“Don’t go without me.” He mumbles, pouting slightly, and you almost explode like a piñata, staining him with your love and adoration that will surely trap him in this apartment for days trying to get it out. Not like he’d ever mind if that were possible, proudly showing off and talking about your feelings for him to anyone who’d listen, right after talking their ear off about the love he holds for you.

So, that morning, you waddle together to the kitchen like two penguins with Hyunjin refusing to stop hugging you from behind even when you started cooking. And after that, spoon feeding you on the counter and forgetting all about his needs until you threatened to take away his cuddles.

He caved in immediately.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Farm: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion Piece to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Carmy loves spending days at the farm, he loves walking through the fields, his fingertips skating over the fresh produce that you’ve been cultivating. He loves the vibrance in the colours. The depths of the green, the brilliance of the red, the pops of yellow. He loves all of it, each and every fucking thing.

More than anything he adores the flavours. The rich burst of texture on his tongue as he bites into a blueberry he’s picked fresh from the bushel, the crispness of a ripe tomato he’s plucked from the vine, the crunch of lettuce between his teeth as the taste floods his senses.

Being here inspires him, it has from the moment he’d stumbled onto the eight acre property in search of somewhere to get fresh produce at a decent rate. You’d found him, sitting cross legged in the middle of one of your fields, sketching out a new idea when you sat down next to him, thinking he was a member of the homeless community.

“I can make you a bag up if you want.” You’d said softly. “I know how hard it can be to get fresh stuff when you’re sleeping rough.”

He turned his head towards you then, his brows furrowing into a frown.

“I’m not homeless…” He’d said looking down at himself  in a ratty white t-shirt and sneakers that have seen much better days. “Fuck, do I look homeless?”

“You kinda do.” You agree before you take his hand in yours and drop a couple of blueberries onto his palm. He pops one into his mouth and he swears he’s never tasted anything as good as that single piece of fruit. “It’s all organic, free from GMOs…”

“You can taste it.” He says, eating other blueberry and then another.

You give him some of the overstock to take home with him that night. Some strawberries and raspberries, along with the leafy greens you’ve been growing. He stares at the colours, using the small artist’s set Luca gave him before he left New York to capture their essence as he designs dishes around their flavour palette.

The next time you see him, he’s tossed out the white t-shirt and the sneakers. He’s wearing a soft grey sweater and a pair of jeans Mikey left him instead. His hair is freshly washed and he’s used a little of that moisturiser that Sugar’s been trying to shove down his throat for the past couple of months. He feels better than he has in years and he thinks it’s because of the fruit. He’s been stagnant since coming to Chicago, focusing on keeping his head above water. There hasn’t been time to relax, to take joy in the things around him.

“That’s really sad.” You tell him as you sit beside him once again in what becomes his favourite field. “That you lost your joy.”

“I don’t think that I ever had any to begin with.” He tells you as he stares out across the plush greenery. “I don’t think I feel things the way that other people do, everything feels muted, it has for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly.

And he shrugs his shoulders because at this point he doesn’t know any different. It started back in New York under the tuition of David Fields. The constant barrage of abuse he suffered, it fractured something deep inside of him. His self-esteem had  withered away with under every comment until there was nothing left but this trembling mess.

“Do you worry you’ll never get it back?” You ask him, studying the profile of his face.

“I did.” He tells you before he tilts his head to look at you. His vibrant blue eyes capture yours and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a colour as beautiful as that. “But then I came here and it’s like something inside me just woke up. I’m starting to feel things again, so yea that’s what’s happening right now.”

“I’m glad the farm could help you like that.” You say sincerely.

“I’m guessing the farm helps a lot of people like that.” He says, gesturing to some of the folks out harvesting in the field. “I looked you up, read about some of the mental health programs you run. You’ve got a good rep.”

“Do what you can, for who you can, where you can, am I right?” You say and he thinks that’s one hell of a philosophy to live by in your day to day.

He considers that now as he watches you in the field. You’re wearing yellow wellies over black leggings because it’s potato season and you always get a little muddy. You have his baseball cap turned backwards on your head, your hair spilling out underneath.

It’s in that moment he realises just how truly happy he is, how happy he’s been over the past year and he knows that’s because of this place, because of you.

You’re surprised a couple of minutes later when his arms wrap around your waist. He buries his face into the crook of your neck inhaling the scent of earth that clings to your skin as he draws you back into the shelter of his firm chest.

“What’s up Bear?” You ask as he snuggles in close, his lips ghosting over skin.

“Nothing.” He whispers. “I just fucking love you.”

“That’s good baby…” You smile as you tilt your head towards him. “Because I fucking love you too.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nickfowlerrr]

it's nice to have a friend

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: fluff. tinge of angst. longing. mutual pining. no smut but all my works are considered 18+ only regardless.

words: 1.7k

notes: loosely based off this prompt: platonic forehead kisses starting to give u the feels. LIKE ITS SOMETHING MAGICAL. i'm currently pmsing and work killed me so i was only able to get to this drabble done today. hoping to do the bucky request tomorrow! <3 thank you in advance for reading and reblogging. comments and feedback are always welcome and so appreciated!

“I’m fine, Steve,” you laugh as you try to swat his hand away.

You still as he catches it in his instead, pulling it down and holding it as he runs his thumb over your hand. You watch him as he keeps his gaze down, tracking his own movements and appearing deep in thought.

It’s soft and silent in the dim light of the kitchen, a little past midnight, seemingly only you and him awake at this hour.

You’d gotten back from your mission just a few hours ago and Steve had been your shadow from the tarmac up until you were cleared by Dr. Cho and could head to living quarters.

You had a small gash on your forehead and some bruised knuckles but really you felt fine. Kate and Peter weren’t as unscathed as you and Clint but all in all, the mission was a success. And truly, there was nothing for anyone, especially not Steve, to be worried about.

You and Steve were close, close enough that you considered him to be one of your best friends here at the tower, but despite that, you still had no idea why he was so concerned about you tonight.

He’d been worrying over you since you’d stepped foot off the jet. Not outright, but you could tell he was following you because he wanted to keep an eye on you. You finally convinced him you were good, or so you’d thought, and had some time to yourself as you showered and got ready for bed. When you came out to grab something to eat before letting sleep finally take you for the night, that was when you’d found him sitting in the kitchen.

Only the dimmer was on as he sat at the counter sketching something in his notebook. He noticed your presence right away and got up from his seat to meet you at the cabinet you were at.

He’d instantly went for the mug he knew you were going to reach for and handed it to you as you watched him, having relaxed with your backside against the counter when he came over.

You’d caught yourself admiring him as he got you your mug but you tried to quickly shut those thoughts down and instead focused on just how lucky you were to call Steve a friend. His concern wasn’t necessary, but it was nice to know he cared.

You took the mug from him and when you set it down on the counter, he once again tried to fuss over the small gash that would likely leave a little physical memory of the mission. Not that you minded all that much.

You tried to brush his hand away but he caught yours and kept hold of it as you let him.

As Steve continued to stroke his thumb over your soft, sensitive skin, you couldn’t help but notice the crease in his brows and the tightness of his jaw as he rubbed gently at the bruises.

You couldn’t imagine this was all because of you, but something was obviously up.

“Steve,” you spoke softly, waiting for him to look at you once more.

His bright blue eyes met yours and the worry you found in them had you sighing.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you gently squeezed his hand. “And don’t say nothing. I think I know you well enough to know that something is, so spill.”

He smiled halfheartedly at you, an almost pained look in his eye before he shook his head.

He lifted your hand to his lips and placed a delicate kiss to your knuckles before he let go. You thought your heart might just stop beating entirely at the action as your breathing stilled unbidden.

You watched him as he took a small step back from you. The look in his eye wasn’t one you could name now but it had your stomach twisting..in a good way.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said as he took you in with his eyes.

Your brows furrowed lightly before you gave a small smile. That was far from the whole answer and you knew it, but you wouldn’t press him on it right now.

“I hadn’t realized how late it was,” he continued when he glanced over at the time on the stove. “I should probably get some sleep. And you should, too,” he said turning his head back to face you and fixing you with a look you could only laugh at.

“Will do, Captain,” you chuckled lightly with a nod. “Soon as I find something to eat.”

“I think Bucky has leftover pizza in the fridge if you want,” he offered.

You scoffed and your eyes narrowed at him, “Do you want me dead?” you asked in faux incredulity, earning a soft laugh in return.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he smirked. “Besides, if he knows it was you, I don’t think he’d mind.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as you pushed off the counter to head to the fridge.

Before you got there, though, you were stopped as Steve’s arms wrapped around you in a hug. You found yourself pressed right against his chest and though it took you a second to register what was happening, you soon returned his embrace and relaxed into him. God, he was so warm. And he smelled so nice. You had to stop yourself from nuzzling into him and making a complete fool of yourself. His hold was so comforting, you quickly found yourself lost in it.

So much so, you almost didn’t register when Steve placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Almost.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the contact as your arms reactively squeezed him tighter and you pressed yourself closer to him.

It wasn’t the first time he’d given you a forehead kiss but this time felt different. It made you feel different. Like you were in a dream. It was soft and comforting but it also had butterflies coming to life in your stomach and had your body alight in delight.

But it was over before you knew it and Steve pulled away from you with a soft, “Goodnight.”

His touch lingered on your arm though before he dropped his hand completely and smiled at you once more.

“Night,” you whispered back before you watched him go, grabbing his notebook on his way back to his room.

You absentmindedly wrapped your arms around yourself as you were already missing the feeling of his touch.

That was different. That was very different.

The light flicked on behind you and you spun around coming face to face with the only other person you'd really looked forward to seeing upon your return.

His boyish grin only added to the butterflies already causing ruckus in your tummy.

"There you are," he smiled, "I was looking for you."

Not another word was said before you found yourself wrapped up in Bucky's arms.

God, he was so warm. And he smelled so good.

Thankfully he pulled away before you could embarrass yourself by unleashing the purr that threatened to tumble past your lips as his hands rubbed at the knots in your back soothingly.

"You okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he studied your face, eyes fixating on the cut blemishing your forehead once he assured himself the rest of you was alright.

"Fine," you smiled.

He nodded, "Good."

You got lost in his gaze as you stared at one another for a long while, just your quiet breaths could be heard in the otherwise silence of the kitchen.

You didn't even realize you were holding his hands until he squeezed yours ever so slightly.

"'M glad you're back," he simpered.

"Me too," you returned.

"You hungry?" he asked. "I have some pizza in the fridge if you want," he offered.

You almost laughed remembering Steve's words earlier. "That sounds really good, actually," you nodded, smiling, "thanks."

You watched as Bucky got out the cold pizza and warmed it up for you as you admired his form. When you caught yourself, you wondered how he hadn't felt your gaze heavy on his back. You were mesmerized by his muscles as they flexed with his movements.

God, you fretted to yourself.

You didn't know what to do.. You didn't know how much longer you could keep telling yourself these feelings you were feeling for Steve and Bucky were nothing.. how much longer you could deny that with each day that passed you found yourself falling harder and harder for the two supersoldiers.

Little did you know, they were both already head over heels for you.

They promised each other they'd wait as long as they had to until you brought it up yourself, they didn't want you to feel any pressure whatsoever, even if that meant you never brought it up. They'd keep their distance, not crossing the line of friendship until they were sure you wanted to. But nights like this, when you've been gone for as long as you had been, or worse when you'd come back hurt, no matter how trivial the injury was, they couldn't stay only arm's length.

To avoid overcrowding you upon your return, they'd agreed to come to you one on one. Had Bucky seen the glint of disappointment in your eyes when Steve told you he was preoccupied upon your return, he would've been a total loss. Would've come right up to you and sworn to make his absence up to you, whatever it'd take.

Hell, they'd both been waiting impatiently all day to see you and Bucky only begrudgingly sat out from greeting you on the tarmac because Steve won the coin toss.

As he plated your pizza, the pizza he had secretly saved for you, he smiled to himself as he felt your eyes glued to him.

He liked the feeling.

Steve wasn't so sure you'd ever see them as anything more than friends to you, but Bucky thought otherwise. He knew otherwise. He felt it in your gaze, in your playful hits and nudges when you’d joke together, in the warmth of your hugs... He knew it was gonna happen. And each day that passed, he only grew more sure.

He couldn't wait until the day you were all on the same page, all your cards on the table, finally the three of you together. No more coin tosses, no more taking turns checking on you after missions, no more three second hugs (though he never really stuck to that rule all too much), no more lingering forehead kisses that he desperately wished would turn into more...

He couldn't wait. But he would. For you, they'd wait forever.