#which is just making my frustration worse because there’s nothing I can do to fix the problem

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[jeonsweetpea]

Will It Fit?

Roommate!AU | Roommate!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst, slight idiots to lovers

rating: explicit

description: So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom…

word count: 6.7k

warnings: size kink, JK has a big dick (no, really), slight pain kink, light choking, dirty talk, Dom!JK, flustered/shy JK at first, unprotected sex (this is fiction, we all wanna be raw-dogged by JK okay), lube, JK loves OC’s panties a LOT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, OC gets embarrassed at first but JK is sweet about it, oral sex (male & female receiving), cursing, Soft Dom!JK, JK is overly concerned with how big your dildo is, embarrassing moments from both parties, spanking, prone bone, creampie, confession scenes, 

a/n: As soon as I saw JK’s OJO face from that GCF, it kicked me into gear to write this. I’ve had this idea for SO long, but never had the motivation to finish it. I was supposed to release it last winter, so hope you’re all excited for it! Asks and reblogs are much appreciated (I read them all!). Also, much love to @jkeuphoriadreamland for bouncing ideas around with me. 

“[Y/N], I can hear you in there.” 

The muffled, disgruntled voice came from the other side of your door. Your eyes fluttered open and your hand stilled in your panties, your heart rate spiking. Maybe if you didn’t move a muscle, he’d go away. 

“I know you’re up,” he added. You rose up from your bed.

“Um… exactly what did you hear?” you squealed, face burning up at your terrible acting skills.

“Unlock this door.”

You didn't know what compelled you to saunter over and open the door a mere crack, but oh the sight before you was almost worth the humiliation. Jungkook was in nothing but gray sweats that sat dangerously low on his hips. He had a bad case of bedhead, but his locks looked so soft that you wanted nothing more than to grab onto them and make out with his beautiful lips, which were captivating you just as much as that intense gaze of his. 

“Hey… you…” you said with a meek smile, which he did not return.

“It’s 2 AM in the morning. I have work at 5. As hot as you sound, we either do something together so we both get satisfied or you let me get my rest because I am incredibly frustrated right now.”

Your eyes widened at his curt response. You’ve never seen him so tense, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as his glare bore into you. He leaned against your door frame with one arm, leaning in close enough to make you break eye contact. He tapped on the wooden frame with his index finger, awaiting your response. 

“Sorry…” 

God, you sounded absolutely pathetic . 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” Before you could respond, he let out a tsk sound and retreated back to his bedroom. You stood there in a trance until his door shut loudly, snapping you out of it. You wondered if he realized how much worse he left you than when he found you. 

Fuck, was he always this hot when mad? 

You went back to your room after closing the door. Climbing into bed, you got under the covers and laid flat on your back deep in thought. The only reason you were masturbating in the first place was because your room was freezing cold. You thought the heater was fixed, but your room was somehow still the coldest one in the apartment. You knew you’d never be able to go to sleep at this rate, so you decided to do something that would tire you out and hopefully lull you into the rest you craved.

It was supposed to be simple. You, your hand, your phone, and sweet, sweet release. Damn Jungkook for interrupting you. It’s bad enough his room was nice and toasty while you were suffering. Yeah, you heard his loudass snores. You assumed he was deep in the REM cycle so how the hell did he catch your moans? Ugh.

If he was so annoyed with you, then he should have warmed you up instead!

You shook your head and got under the covers, groaning at your lewd thoughts. 

He’s my roommate. And he’s too good of a roommate for me to fuck things up. 

“Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?”

Those words echoed in your mind. The way he changed his tone to a lower register with his Busan dialect slipping through was incredibly sexy. It was the perfect mix of frustration and anger and made your thighs rub together in want. Leaning over your nightstand, you opened the drawer and grabbed a velvet drawstring bag. Slipping off your pajama shorts, you pulled out your trusty dildo. Impatient, you closed your eyes and imagined Jungkook taking you right then and there. However, the moment you allowed the tip of the dildo to touch your entrance, all pleasure was lost. It was cold!

“Damn it…” you muttered. “I gotta warm it up. Ugh!”

You left your room in frustration and entered the bathroom, turning the sink on to the hottest setting and running it over your toy. 

This might’ve been the most desperate masturbation session you’ve ever had, but you didn’t care. This was all Jungkook’s fault!

The next morning was Saturday. You were eating your breakfast on the kitchen island while mindlessly scrolling on your phone when Jungkook came out of his room. As soon as you two locked eyes, you almost choked on your food and had to chug some water to calm down. The man, confused, ruffled his hair and watched you through drowsy eyes.

“Are you okay?” he said, followed by a yawn. 

You nodded as you beat your chest with your fist to get everything down. “Yeah… I just… didn’t expect you to be home. I thought you had work.”

“Oh,” He sounded more awake now. “I read my schedule wrong. Turns out I’m off every other Saturday now.”

“... Oh. Cool.”

He circled around the kitchen island to get to the fridge and you recalled last night’s events, mortified he had heard you. Should you apologize again? After all, you’re both two grown adults; there’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you didn’t say something now, that icky feeling would only fester inside you. 

“Hey Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” he said from behind the fridge door.

“About yesterday… I hope you can forget all about it.”

As the refrigerator door shut, you were greeted by the sight of the most adorable man sipping a carton of banana milk. His eyes were wide and brimming with curiosity from your words. 

“Did something happen yesterday? I was knocked out.”

You blinked at him twice. “Do you… not remember talking to me last night?”

“Hmm? I did? I was fast asleep, don’t remember a thing.” He took the seat next to you. “Why? What did we talk about?”

Pure relief washed over you like a tidal wave as you shook your head. “Oh, nothing much. My room’s a bit too cold. It was hard for me to sleep.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll talk to the landlord. Do you want to sleep with me?” You shot him an incredulous look and he began to stutter. “I-I mean! Sleep in my bed! Not with me in it. Unless you wanted to—ah—fuck me!

There. That’s the Jungkook you knew. He’s never crossed the line and flirted with you, so you didn’t either out of respect. But… It was too hard to resist teasing him. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Unless I wanted to… fuck you?” you repeated innocently. This was new territory for you—teasing him. His flustered reactions were so damn adorable though. The way his nose scrunched and his eyes darted around everywhere except for your face. If anyone was watching you, they’d swore you had hearts in your eyes. 

He set his drink down and proceeded to cover his face with both hands, panicking at his poor choice of words. “That didn’t come out right. Oh god… this is embarrassing.”

You covered your mouth to stifle your giggles. “It’s okay. I don’t want to peg you—I mean, take your bed.”

Jungkook dropped his hands, speaking the next sentence in pouts. “Hey, I don’t want to be peg—not the point. No, seriously. My room’s really warm.”

“I mean… if you really want me in your room, all you have to do is ask, you know,” you remarked. Jungkook’s cheeks were flushed with a tinge of pink, adding an extra charming element to his already cute self. Were you being too bold? 

It didn’t matter because seeing how his lips trembled and how he could barely hold himself together was fun to watch.

“I didn’t realize it was that easy…” he mumbled, more to himself than you. You tilted your head at him and he noticed how you crossed one arm over another “Not that I’m calling you easy!”

“Uh huh. I’m watching you, Jeon Jungkook. Hmph.”

“No, wait. I’m sorry.”

You placed your index finger on his lips to shush him, even going so far as to tap his lip piercing teasingly. “Is that all your pretty lips are good for? Apologizing?” 

You watched as his eyes widened once more and that caused you to realize what you were doing. My god. Using his own words against him was satisfying, but all this newfound confidence was going to get you in trouble. You cleared your throat and withdrew your hand, grabbing your breakfast plate and heading over to the sink before things could escalate.

“Uh… I’m gonna go to the gym. Run some errands or something,” Jungkook stammered as he got up, nearly toppling out of his stool. You bit your lip to hold in your laughter as he recomposed himself. Walking in the same direction, he flinched when you got near his proximity. “W-What are you doing?”

He’s so cute when nervous.

“Nothing. Grabbing my keys. I’m heading out too.”

“O-Okay.”

Your smile made his heart rate escalate. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”

You spent the day with your closest friends on a brunch date, followed by a trip to the mall, and then hot cocoa in the evening. It was much needed after the week you had and after bidding them farewell, you went back to your apartment. Upon entering, you took off your shoes and put them on the shoe rack.

“Jungkook? Are you home?” you called out. 

“Yeah! I just finished showering!” he called back in the distance. You went further into the apartment and plopped down on the couch. 

“Damn,” you muttered, rubbing your arms. “Wish I could have showered with him. It’s so cold outside…”

As if on cue, Jungkook called for you again. “[Y/N]? Could you come here?”

You took off your purse and slowly rose up from the couch, hesitant. This had to be a dream. Why would he need you to come to the bathroom? He must’ve forgotten a towel. Or a t-shirt. Or pants. The specifics didn’t really matter because your hormones were going berserk at the possibilities. 

You walked through the narrow hallway and stood in front of the bathroom door, excited at the thought of teasing him again. “I’m here. What’s up? Did you forget your towel or something? Silly boy.”

The door swung open and the shit-eating grin you had on your face dropped to the floor in an instant. 

“Why is there a dildo in the bathroom, silly girl?”

Shit. Quick, say something. Anything. Don’t just stand there like a gaping fish! Oh dear, how many seconds have passed? You must look like a total idiot.

Fuck! I forgot I left it here!!!

“Well…” you started to say, “I’m assuming it’s yours.”

Out of all the things your roommate could be calling you for, this was not on your radar. The awkwardness was more suffocating than the steam from his blazing hot shower minutes ago and you wished it lingered around long enough to make you disappear. 

Jungkook made a puckered face at your accusation, picked up the object, and shook it side to side, the bendy silicone material flopping everywhere. His big doe eyes were the highlight of his classic OJO face, the blatant confusion so adorable if you weren’t absolutely mortified. For the second time this week. 

God, and how could you even focus when he was dressed in nothing but a towel, his hair still slightly damp. The bulging muscles of his biceps were a feast for the eyes as well as his tattooed sleeve. You yearned for the day he’d use his arm as your necklace, but of course that shouldn’t be a priority at the moment. If anything, it was his fault you had to use a dildo anyway.

“[Y/N], you know damn well this isn’t mine.” He met your gaze and flashed you a soft smile, biting his lower lip. “I like mine bigger.”

You covered your face in shame, wishing the floor could open up and swallow you whole. “Good god, Jeon.”

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why is it in the bathroom?”

You gulped, finding enough strength to not die of embarrassment. “It’s getting colder outside and the heater doesn’t reach my room as well as it reaches yours. So…”

“Yeah…? But I’m not following.”

“The… thing in your hand—”

“Dildo?”

You visibly cringed. “Yes, okay, THAT. It got cold and I don’t like cold objects... Inside me. So I took it to the bathroom to run hot water on it to warm it up.”

“Before you use it?”

“No, to melt it. Yes, to use it!” you snapped, feeling the humiliation burning through your body. “I wasn’t aware you weren’t working today, remember? I clean it after each use so please just give it back!”

You ran over to yank it out of his hands, but he lifted it up high out of your reach. While cackling. That motherfucker. “Hey, maybe I want a turn.”

You had to bite back. “I knew you liked being pegged.”

“I do not!”

“Then give it back!”

“This thing is huge though. It fits?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You jumped up but failed to reach it due to his quick reflexes. 

“Doesn’t it hurt? Because if something this big went up my—”

“Jungkook!”

“I’m just saying!” he said with his arms up in the air like you were about to tase him. “I find it hard to believe, that’s all. It’s really big. Like damn.”

Without thinking, you ripped his towel off his waist and he gasped, scrambling to shield his privates while you seized the opportunity to get your toy back.

You stormed out of the bathroom and ran to your room, locking the door afterwards. Falling to your knees, the embarrassment caught up to you, causing you to hang your head low in shame. You could hear the soft shuffling sounds of his footsteps approaching your door, followed by a gentle knock.

“[Y/N]? Are you okay?” He pressed his ear against the door to hear small sniffles. “Shit. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. I was teasing, I thought you wanted to tease me back and—I guess I took it too far.”

“Go away, Jeon,” you said, throwing the dildo at the door. Jungkook nearly had a heart attack at the loud thump and jolted back, clutching his chest. 

“Holy shit, that scared me,” he said, which earned a small chuckle from you despite the tears. “Hey… come on out. Please. I’m not judging you.”

“No. I’m humiliated. You heard me yesterday and now caught me today. I can’t face you ever again. It’s over!”

He placed a hand on your door, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I didn’t even know we started, so how could we be over? You’re cute.”

That made you snap your head up. You quickly wiped away your tears and rose from the floor. “This isn’t fair… I’ve been embarrassed twice now.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“You heard me masturbating yesterday!” you exclaimed, frustrated at his obliviousness. “You woke up and told me I had pretty lips or whatever and suggested we do something about it together!”

“I mean, you do have pretty lips. Yup. That sounds like me, yeah,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I really don’t remember. Come on out. I wanna see you.”

“No.”

“Would it help if I shared something embarrassing about me?”

You narrowed your eyes at the door, considering his offer. “... Go on…”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Well… you know how I’ve been doing your laundry for you?” 

“Yeah…”

It was your most hated chore. Putting the clothes into the washer and dryer wasn’t your issue, but folding them was so tedious. So you and him made a deal. You were in charge of dishes and he would do the laundry. However, the one thing you refused to let Jungkook wash for you were your bras and panties. Those you handled yourself.

“You… left a pair of panties in my basket once by mistake.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I washed them for you but um… before that, I might’ve… sort’ve… jerked off with them.”

Your doorknob jostled for a second as you unlocked it. Jungkook waited as the door swung open and was greeted by a displeased you, hands on your hips and all.  

“What? They were really pretty…” he added. “They were pink and had lace—”

“You… PERVERT!” you shouted, hitting his chest repeatedly. Of course, you were aware your feeble punches did nothing to his insanely toned pecs. Jungkook stared at you fondly, catching the hint of a smile that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh, I’m a pervert? Says the girl who has an 8-inch dildo,” he countered, snatching both your wrists. 

“At least I’m able to take 8-inches!” you retorted, laughing at the situation. He joined in your laughter and then said,

“Good! That means you’ll be able to handle me!”

Your brain fizzled out at this point as the laughter subsided. “... What?”

Jungkook’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped. “... You heard me. Go ahead, take off my towel again. See for yourself.”

He guided your hands downward to the soft fabric, which was already on the verge of unraveling itself with his prior movements. You stared at his pelvic lines, excitement bubbling beneath the surface while you tried your best to maintain a calm expression. 

“... Pervert,” you mumbled. Jungkook chuckled, taking one of your hands and placing it directly on his boner. 

“Maybe. But only you can make me feel this way.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat radiating from beneath the fabric and your curiosity peaked. Tucking a finger into the towel, you pulled it down and let it fall to the ground. 

A loud squeal came from your lips as you covered your mouth. “Holy shit!”

Jungkook covered himself after seeing your reaction with both hands, embarrassment crawling up his spine. “Sorry, I’ll put it away.”

“No, no, no!” you said, putting your hands out in a stop motion. “Sorry, I just… you… you weren’t kidding.”

“Does it scare you?” His tone was sincere, his eyes genuinely showing concern. “Because… I don’t want to hurt you. And I know it can hurt. That’s why I was so curious about the dildo. Will it fit? Will I fit…?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how he phrased it, but quickly stopped when you noticed the fear in his eyes. Your thoughts wandered to if he had slept with someone prior and if it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Truth be told, you’ve never been with anyone as big as him so it’s all new for you.

“Well… if I’m prepared well enough, I can take it. The dildo fits but sometimes not all of it goes in. Um… man, this is embarrassing to talk about, ahhh. I feel like I keep making a fool of myself in front of you.”

Jungkook’s gaze softened at your vulnerability, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. His heart was beating just as rapidly as yours if not more. Then he put his other hand on the small of your back, pulling you close. 

“That makes two of us. But you make me crazy.”

He was so close that your senses were intoxicated with the fresh scent of eucalyptus and cotton wafting off him. His eyes shifted to your lips for a split second before meeting your gaze once more. 

“I really want to kiss these pretty lips of yours… If you’ll let me,” he said, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb and whispering the last part.

You begged him to kiss you already, so he leaned in and finally pressed his warm lips against yours as you closed your eyes. It started off as a gentle smooch, like a little tease to test the waters. When he pulled back, you leaned forward and chased his lips urgently. You felt him smiling into the kiss as he moved in tandem with you, deepening the kiss while switching positions to press you against a wall. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head while his free hand slithered down the side of your body until it rested on your hip, giving you a firm squeeze.

“Jung—mmph—Jungkook…” you moaned. He used that chance to ease his tongue into your mouth and the kiss went from passionate to messy. When you moved your wrists in the slightest, he asserted dominance and pinned them back down into place. 

“You think I’m going to let you go so easily now that I have you?” he asked, the hunger in his voice evident. He carefully tugged your bottom lip in between his teeth and pulled it back in a seductive motion, which turned you on even more. 

Once he broke the kiss, the only thing that remained was a string of saliva that broke seconds later.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” he said in between pants.

“Since you’ve jerked off to my panties?” you teased while catching your breath.

He rolled his eyes. “Like you’ve never rubbed one out to me before.”

You scrunched up your nose at his response, unable to counteract his statement right away. “Hey… I wouldn’t have had to rub one out if you warmed me up in this cold weather.”

He smirked. “All you had to do was ask, you know.”

Releasing your hands, Jungkook went into your room and grabbed the dildo off the floor. He left you for a short moment and you waited there, confused, until you heard the sound of running water. He came back a minute later and then grabbed your hand, leading you to his bedroom.

“Had to wash it. Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up properly for the real thing.”

He guided you to his bed and helped you remove your jacket, blouse, and leggings. His grin was extra toothy because the set you were wearing was the exact set he jerked off too before. 

“What?” you asked, amused.

“N-Nothing.”

When your back was turned for a second, he mouthed the words ‘Oh my god’ and pressed his hands together as if thanking the universe for this very moment.

Now left in your bra and panties, you laid on his bed and he climbed on top of you, his lips latching onto the side of your neck. You mewled at the sizzling contact, pulling him close by his soft locks so that his hot skin was pressed against yours. He trailed his searing kisses down to your collarbone and then settled between the valley of your breasts. 

“The bra is pretty… you’re so pretty,” he said, full of admiration. He pulled one of the cups down to gain access to your breasts, capturing your perky nipple between his lips. He sucked tenderly, swirling his tongue around before tugging on it hard enough to elicit a moan. His other hand was greedy, slithering into your already soaked panties. His middle finger dipped in between your folds and he rubbed in circular motions to coax some more slick out of you. 

As you arched your back and moaned his name, he dipped one finger into you and began to pump it slowly. He added another one when you begged for it, sounding so desperate that he had to oblige. 

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take it,” you breathed. Jungkook only curled his fingers deeper inside, grazing your sweet spot while shaking his head. 

“Patience, beautiful. I need to make sure your sweet pussy can take it, remember? Gotta prep you well.”

“But I can take it, I can, oh god please.” 

“If you’re a good girl for me. Can you take another finger?”

You nodded eagerly, so he added a third finger and you squeezed your eyes shut from the delicious burn. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked, observing your expressions carefully. You clutched onto the pillow and panted heavily. 

“Y-Yeah, I—god—your fingers feel good…”

He began to finger you with all three digits, the tightness of your walls bringing some resistance to his actions. But with a few more neck kisses to relax you, it became easier and you became more undone. 

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your ear, his heavy breath tickling it. He finally removed his fingers and grabbed the dildo at the end of the bed, bringing up to your lips. 

“Show me what those pretty lips of yours can do.”

You stuck out your tongue and licked a long stripe on the toy in a tantalizing slow motion, causing Jungkook to grunt. That damn smile of yours was going to kill him. You were the perfect minx—sweet and naughty. He didn’t have to tell you to suck it because you already were. 

“Such a good girl. You’re going to handle my cock so well.”

He removed the dildo out of your mouth and reached into his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube. You stared at it like it was foreign to you and Jungkook was quick to notice.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it. I know it.”

He chuckled, admiring your determination. “Still, I want to take my time.  Besides… it’s not every day I get to fuck someone so beautiful.”

He popped open the cap and squeezed a decent amount of lube onto the toy. Then he got back in between your legs and slowly began to insert it into you. You squirmed from the slippery, cold contact but Jungkook captured your lips into a deep kiss, igniting your body with fervor. 

He thrusted the dildo as deep as he could, stopping when there was resistance from your panties. Which you were more than thankful for because you already felt full. But then he began to pump it in and out of you at a steady pace, only accelerating when your moans became more constant. 

“Shit, shit,that feels so—“ Your words were swallowed by his lips and that stirred something within you, allowing Jungkook to easily glide the toy back and forth. He soon increased his speed, the obscene sounds your pussy was making the only thing that could be heard in the room. 

You broke away from the kiss and began tearing up from the intensity. 

“J-Jungkook, I think—“

You couldn’t, actually. Your orgasm crept up on you and made your entire body convulse. You shut your eyes to only see white, your ears were ringing, and your pussy surrendered to the pleasure. 

Jungkook removed the toy out of you gently and then kissed your sweaty forehead, giving you a bunny-tooth smile as you calmed down from your high. 

“Did you cum?”

You smacked his arm playfully. “Did I cum… pfft. No, actually. I’m waiting for a real man to make me cum. With a fat cock.”

“Well not to toot my own horn but…” He grinded his swollen cock against your thigh. “I think I meet the requirements.”

Now that things slowed down, this was the first time you really got to look at his cock properly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to prep you. It was as big as your dildo but much more girthier. It was a mouth-watering sight. 

Flipping the switch, you got on top of Jungkook this time. His eyes widened in surprise but then eased into a smile. You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. 

“Let me take care of you now.”

“But I want to fuck you so bad.”

“You can wait, darling. My pussy is yours.”

His dick twitched at that. You giggled as you got in between his thighs, stroking his member a few times to hear those cute, breathy moans of his. 

Will it fit…? God, I hope so.

“Are you afraid you can’t take it?” Jungkook asked with concern. Shit. Did you say that out loud???

“I can. I will.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t—“

“Jungkook,” you said, squeezing his dick tightly, almost like a warning. “I can take it like a good girl. And if not, I’ll tell you. Okay?”

He closed his eyes and nodded as you began to suck him off. There was no way you could take all of him in your mouth but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. You went as far as you could and stopped when your gag reflex kicked in. Using your hand to stroke the area you couldn’t reach, you swirled your tongue and bobbed your head up and down. 

Jungkook’s abs clenched and unclenched at the action and he rested on his elbows to watch you. The way your bra cupped your breasts at this angle was enticing, your pretty lips working so hard to please him, and the view of your ass in those panties could make him cum right then and there. 

“Fuck, you’re so good at this—don’t stop.”

You smiled at the praise and continued, loving how he took a sharp inhale of breath when you cupped his balls. He put his hand on your head and pushed you down gently, not wanting to overdo it with his size. You controlled the pace, but he just wanted to touch you and admire you. 

“You’re too good to me…” 

You released his dick with a satisfying pop sound, kissing the tip and smiling. “Teach me what you like.”

“I love everything you do,” he said, grunting when you began stroking him again from the base to the tip. “Your hands are so much softer than mine.”

You stopped momentarily to spit on your hand before resuming your lewd actions and he threw his head back. 

“Fuck [Y/N]. That’s so hot.”

“Yeah? Have I been a good girl? Are you going to reward me?” He snatched your wrist, his eyes darkened and full of lust. 

“Can you handle it?”

You turned around on all fours, shaking your ass side to side to tempt him. “Take me, baby. Raw.”

His OJO face returned from your bold suggestion and you flashed him a wink. 

“I’m on the pill. Promise,” you informed. 

A burst of energy surged within him as he grabbed the bottle of lube and hurriedly squeezed some onto his cock. You giggled when he squirted a bit too much, haphazardly trying to divide it between two hands and spreading it evenly. But things turned serious when he grabbed your hips, yanking you closer to him.

He pulled your panties to the side and ate you out from behind first, loving how delicious your backside looked with them on. You moaned in delight and he placed a hand on your upper back, forcing your face down into the mattress. His tongue dipped into your folds and he flicked it on your clit a few times, loving the whiny sounds you were making. Then he pressed his entire mouth onto your pussy and sucked hard. 

You were overwhelmed with pleasure and were on the verge of cumming when he removed his mouth and replaced it with something else.

“Are you ready?” He teased his tip at your leaking entrance and you shuddered. 

“Yes, please fuck me.”

“Breathe baby. Relax as much as you can.”

You obeyed, feeling him push himself into you smoothly, knowing he prepped you more than enough. At least, that’s what you thought until he got in halfway. From there on, it felt like he was invading your walls and stretching you to new limits. 

There was a mild discomfort and Jungkook kissed your back lovingly to relax your tense muscles. You sighed and allowed him to bottom out, feeling the wind knock out of you when he did. 

“God!” you shouted, fisting his bedsheets. 

“F-Fuck… you feel amazing I—can I move? Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt… I just feel really full.”

“Okay,” he said in a restrained voice. “I’ll go slow.”

He gripped your hips tightly, like he needed something else to focus on or else he’d lose control and fuck the living daylights out of you. He eased himself out of you but only half way, wanting to savor your warmth a bit longer. Then he pushed himself back into you, making sure to go as slow as possible.

“Your ass looks amazing in these. You should wear them again.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought of doing this with him again. “Maybe if you spank me.”

He stilled his hips. “You really want me to?”

You began rocking your ass back and forth on his cock. “Yeah. I’m not that fragile… I can take it rough when I want to.” You swore you felt his cock twitch at this. “Hmm, looks like that excited you. You wanna fuck me rough, Jeon?”

He delivered a spank on your cheek, the sensation sending waves of pain and pleasure through your body. Your pussy tightened from this and it made Jungkook hiss. He spanked the other cheek and then both cheeks and you moaned, the slight pain distracting you from the girth of his big cock. 

“You think you’re in a position to be a brat?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you up so you were on all fours again. Laying on top of your back, he whispered in your ear, “Do you know how badly I want to fucking ruin you?”

He bit the shell of your ear and you let out a content sigh as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he reminded you. “But god, you feel so good. So tight. So slippery and wet. I just wanna have my way with you.”

You couldn’t wait anymore. “Please do. Make my pussy remember the shape of your cock. It’s yours to wreck.”

Jungkook got off your back and grabbed a nice fistful of your hair into a makeshift ponytail, forcing your head up as he thrusted into you to the hilt. That feeling of being full hit you full force and you submitted, letting him rock his hips back and forth to the pace he deemed fit. He undid your bra with his free hand, letting the undergarment fall onto the bed as he cupped one breast.

Your moans came out unashamed and full of whiny desperation. The intensity was becoming too much, but it felt too good to stop. There was no more discomfort, only lust and the desire to be fucked so hard that it had your eyes rolling. And Jungkook was more than willing to deliver.

He then grabbed a nearby pillow and placed it under your stomach, pushing your back down until you laid flat. 

“I’m not sure, but I read this makes things feel better on Reddit,” he explained quickly as he helped remove your panties. “But let me know if you want me to stop.”

You’re smitten by the fact he cared this much about you but also trying hard not to laugh at how he admitted to going to Reddit for sex advice. He was too precious.

“I will.”

With your ass propped up higher thanks to the elevation of the pillow, Jungkook eased into you once more and you bit into your pillow. He started to slam his hips into you, gripping onto the headboard to steady himself. 

“Fuck!” you said through gritted teeth. 

“Am I going too fast?” he breathed, slowing down his thrusts.

“No, it’s okay. I want it. I want you.”

Your words unleashed his primal urges to finally give it to you. He shoved his cock deep inside you, each thrust making your ass jiggle, the sight so unbelievably sexy that he had to spank you again.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder!” you shouted. Jungkook laid on top of you, wrapping his bicep around your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek as he fucked you harder. You begged him to choke you and he obliged, squeezing your neck just enough to make you slightly dizzy. 

It was euphoric having that slight danger while being used for his pleasure. Your pussy tightened so much that Jungkook felt he was going to cum. 

He slowed the roll of his hips and then pulled out, quickly flipping you onto your back. Thanks to the pillow from earlier, your hips were propped up at the perfect height. 

“Spread your legs for me. Wider. Hold them open.”

You were so drunk on lust that you did everything he asked. He held onto your thighs and inserted his cock into you again, the new angle making your moans come out strangulated. He was so huge, you swore his tip was brushing against your cervix. Picking up the pace gradually, you took the abuse of his fat cock and screamed at how good it felt. 

“I can’t get enough of you,” Jungkook said through pants, wrapping a hand around the column of your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

His hips began to stutter and you felt your pussy growing sore from the stretch. Anymore and you’d be in tears. You wanted to cum too, so you snuck your hand down to your clit and rubbed in circular motions. Jungkook used the last remaining bits of strength to fuck you for a few more minutes, which was more than enough for you to reach your climax. 

Cumming a second time was more painful than the first time due to the over sensitivity. But somehow it was more enjoyable because you had never felt something so intense. Jungkook kept coaxing you with sweet words, promising he was almost finished. 

He rutted into you for the last few seconds, counting 3, 2, 1 before spilling his seed inside you. His body laid on top of yours, the two of you sticky and sweaty but it was comforting just being in his embrace. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Yeah?”

“Get off. We gotta pee.”

He laughed at your serious tone. “I think I need another shower. Care to join me?”

Your roommate literally just fucked your brains out 5 minutes ago. Why were you feeling self-conscious in the shower with him? It didn’t make sense!

With the hot water on, you took a deep breath before feeling a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Questions, comments, concerns?”

Oh my god, you had to marry this man. “Um… I think I’ll be sore for the next few days.”

“I’m sorry.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it a lot.”

He turned you around, so that you were facing him. “Enough to do it again?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tonight?”

“W-Well… I mean—“

Look at him fumbling over his words. Adorable. “You’re such a pervert.”

“I can’t help it. You turn me on.”

You covered your chest, feeling shy. “Is that all I’m good for…?”

He immediately understood what you meant. “Of course not. Look at me,” he said while tilting your chin up. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Well I learned today that you jerked off to my panties and you count down before you cum.”

You couldn’t help but explode into laughter at his OJO face when he heard you say that. 

“Hey! I do it to let you know when it’s coming!”

“Yes sir,” you teased with a salute. “I appreciate your punctuality, sir!”

“Oh my god, you’re so cheeky.” He hugged you again and booped his nose into yours. “I like you. You know, when a boy likes a girl and they go out on a date and then—oh shit, I did things backwards.”

You giggled. “I think I prefer it this way. I like you too. I’ve… liked you for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because! I didn’t want to make things awkward. But I guess things ended up being awkward anyway…”

“Because you were masturbating to me?” 

He had such a proud smile on his face. 

“Whatever! Panty thief!”

“You left them there.”

“You should’ve told me!”

“I did!”

“After you had your fun! You are so—”

He gave you a surprise peck on the cheek to distract you. 

“Awesome?” He smooched you again. And again. You couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Mmhmm. So… do you want to stay in my room tonight?”

“As long as you warm me up.”

“Oh, for sure. I’m great at that.”

“Because of experience or Reddit?”

There was his OJO face again. “Hey~!”

I truly hope you enjoyed the fic! Thank you for giving my writing a chance. :) Also I have an AO3 if you're more comfortable commenting there. Thanks!

[band--psycho]

Harvey Specter x Reader- Stop Being So Stubborn

This story was requested by a lovely anon!!

Thank you so much for the request! (I'm also going to put this as a story for my A-Z Writing Challenge)

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Third Person POV

“Looks like Y/ns finally gone home,” Mike stated, sipping his coffee before looking over at the office across from Harvey’s.

Pretty much everyone at the office has been telling her to go home and rest; Harvey knew that even though he was one of the very few people who hadn’t said those words to her, partially because he didn’t want to get his head bitten off.

“I wouldn’t be so sure on that,” Harvey replied, not lifting his eyes from his paperwork once.

Y/n was as stubborn as he was, he knew her and he knew that just because she wasn’t in her office didn’t mean that she’d gone home. 

On late shifts such as these, the most common place to find Y/n was down in the library. 

So once Mike left, a few moments after their conversation, that’s where Harvey headed, but not before stopping off in the kitchen to make Y/n a much needed hot drink. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said as he entered the room.

A small sigh left Y/ns lips, “Congratulations on using your excellent detective skills,Mr Specter.”

The sarcasm in her voice was clear, as was the frustration at the interruption. 

“It wasn’t that hard, I could hear you sneezing from the hallway,” Harvey pointed out as he made his way closer to her:

“If you’re here to tell me to go home you’re wasting your breath,” she mumbled; her slightly bloodshot eyes fixed on the book infront of her.

Harvey was silent for a few moments as he sat down on the chair next to her and placed the drink he’d made her next to her, before saying, “You need to rest,”

He could tell she hadn’t been sleeping, not because of her snappy mood but because of the dark circles under her eyes. 

For a brief second her eyes left the page and glanced over at the hot drink now next to her. 

“I’ll rest when this case is over,” she mumbled, turning her attention back to the book she was reading. 

“If you don’t rest, you’ll make yourself worse and potentially lose the case,” Harvey was trying to be reasonable; make Y/n see that there was no way she could go into court and present the case, when she was like this, and win. 

He knew how hard she’d been working on this case and how much she wanted to impress everyone by winning it; the case meant a lot to her, he didn’t want her own stubbornness to be the reason she lost it. He didn’t want all her hard work to have been for nothing. 

“I’m fi-” 

Before Y/n even got the chance to finish that sentence she went into a coughing fit; which then made her eyes water. 

“You were saying?” Harvey said with raised eyebrows as he looked at Y/n and nudged the hot drink closer to her.

“Shut up,” Y/n mumbled, sipping on the hot drink he’d made her, hating that she’d inadvertently proved Harvey right, but also savouring the brief relief the hot drink provided her throat.

“Sweetheart-” Harvey began; his eyes soft as he looked at her, silently urging her to just stop being so damn stubborn.

“I need to finish this case,” the bluntness in her reply was an evident sign of her frustration; and the fact that Harvey only ever called her sweetheart when he was worried about her. 

“And you can,” he assured her as he placed his hand on top of hers lightly, it made a small wave of relief wash over Y/n, knowing that she didn’t have to fight him about this anymore; because she didn’t have the energy to do so. 

That was until a singular word made all of that relief vanish, “Tomorrow”

“Harvey-”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell Jessica to give the case to someone else,” Harvey interrupted, trying to ignore the guilt that gnawed at his heart when he saw the anger building in her y/e/c eyes.

It was a low blow; he knew that, but he was running out of options .

“You wouldn’t,”

“Do you really want to test that theory?”

“Blackmailing is illegal, you know,”

Of course he knew. 

But he also just didn’t really care about that. 

He cared about her. 

And making sure that she got the rest she so clearly needed.

“I’m aware, but if it means you can get some rest then I’m willing to do it,”

Y/n stared at him; as if trying to work out if he was serious about the threat he just made. 

“Fine,” she sighed in defeat as she closed the book she was reading. 

“Good,” Harvey concurred, “now drink your drink so we can get out of here,”

The shock was evident in Y/ns eyes at his words. 

“I can get home by myself,” she stated bluntly, putting her bay over her shoulder.

“It’s 10pm, in the middle of winter and you have a cold, like hell are you walking home, I’ll drop you there,” Harvey wasn’t asking; he was telling her that this was happening. 

He didn’t want her walking home, alone, not this late. 

“I need to go to the store-” 

“What’s this?” She asked cutting off her own sentence as Harvey handed her a small bag. 

“I asked Donna if she could get some medicine from the store,” Harvey explained. 

It wasn’t much, just some cold and flu relief, throat sweets, painkillers for the headaches he knew she got. 

He watched as the anger that had been burning in her eyes began to dwindle, “If I didn’t have a cold right now I would kiss you.”

The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them; but she didn’t regret them, not really. 

Her and Harvey had always been close and especially recently, their connection only seemed to grow. 

Harvey tried to stop a beaming smile from touching his lips but he couldn’t.

“How about we take a rain check for when you’re better, I’ll even take you out for dinner,if you want?” Harvet asked, and although he looked calm, his heart was racing so fast he was almost sure Y/n could hear it.

“Mr Specter, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Miss Y/l/n I believe you were the one who said you wanted to kiss me,” Harvey countered, “and yes, yes I am,”

He didn’t give her time to answer; they could discuss all of this tomorrow right now, it was getting later and Harvey was aware of that. 

“Now let’s get you home.”

Tagging:

@little-diable @rebelwrites @xacatalepsyx @wild-rose-35 @withmyteeth @yn-ymn-yln @munsinner @maximoff-xmen @vintagecarsandrecordplayers @book-dragon03 @bookworm1767 @fangirlfandomss @wretchedmo @mayans-mc @dana-is-snax @happilysparklyunknown @samanthaofanarchy @mrsamerica @navs-bhat @tinystudentmiracle @that-one-enthusiast @malfoys-demigod

[callsign-rogueone]

fractured - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader You break your arm, but Nolon isn't available to mend it. Bodhi takes care of you in the meantime. [request] words: 1.1k 🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader in an established relationship with Bodhi. mentions of injury (broken arm) but no blood and no description of how it happened. just some fluff of Bo taking care of you.

Bodhi is out of his seat as soon as he sees you exit the exam room, looking a little worse for wear -- your arm is in a sling, the bridge of your nose split, and you’re walking slowly, like your legs are sore.

“There you are,” he breathes. “Xaden said you were here, but nobody would tell me anything. What happened?”

“I fractured my arm in two places,” you explain, “But Nolon is busy, so until he’s done with whatever else he has going on, I have to heal the old fashioned way.”

You leave out the details of how it happened, and hope that he won’t ask. He doesn’t -- he just takes your bag from your ‘good arm’, slinging it over his shoulder before you can protest and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You give him a pained smile, letting him lead you back across the bridge to the rider’s quadrant, where everyone is sat down for dinner, in the middle of a spirited conversation. You slip into your normal seat, thankful that nobody seems to notice your condition or make a scene -- until they do.

“What’s with the sling?” Imogen asks, raising an eyebrow.

Every head at the table turns toward you. Great.

“Nolon was unavailable,” you answer in a tone that does not invite any more questions -- that seems to be good enough for them, but you still get a few worried glances and pitying looks from your friends in response.

You poke at your food, attempting to cut it with the side of your fork and failing -- it isn’t sharp enough. You set the utensil down, giving up; you aren’t that hungry, anyway, not after the painkiller the healers had given you, which isn’t doing anything except make you nauseous. You really hope that Nolon will be back tomorrow, because living like this is going to suck.

Bodhi notices your dilemma and slides your plate toward him, wordlessly taking your knife and fork and cutting everything into bite-sized pieces for you before he gives it back.

You thank him quietly, managing to eat half of it -- better than nothing, you suppose. Maybe you’ll feel better at breakfast.

He’s sitting on your right, your uninjured side, and he keeps you close to him all through dinner, tucked into his side.

When everyone is finished, he picks up your bag again, carrying it upstairs to your room, right across from his, following you inside and setting the bag on your desk chair. “Do you want help changing clothes? I promise I’m not just asking because I want to see you naked.”

You don’t laugh at the joke, kicking your boots off roughly, not caring where they land. 

“I’ll be fine,” you answer, turning your back on him. You’re sick of this, of feeling like a child, of being coddled and given those concerned looks all through dinner, like you can’t handle yourself -- like you haven’t had worse injuries, like you hadn’t run the gauntlet and bonded a dragon and literally everything else this terrible school asks of its students.

You try to tug your shirt off, hissing in pain at the movement of your arm. Hot tears start to flow down your cheeks as you continue to struggle, the fabric getting stuck on the thick wooden splint the healers had put around your forearm as a temporary fix.

“Hey,” Bodhi coaxes, “let me do it.”

You sigh, admitting defeat and taking a few steps toward him, allowing him to help get your good arm out of the other sleeve first, and gently untangle the shirt from the splint, tossing it into your laundry hamper with practiced ease.

He wipes away your tears with a gentle brush of his thumb, cradling your cheek in his hand. The familiar softness of his touch relaxes you near-instantly.

“I know this is frustrating for you, and I know you’re a badass independent woman dragon rider, who can take care of herself, and that’s one of the things I love most about you, but it would be easier -- and it would make me feel better -- if you let me help you. I love you, and I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “Love you too.”

You stay like that for a moment, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes -- you’re exhausted.

“We’ll go by the healers before breakfast and see if Nolon is back,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But until then, I’m gonna be here to help you, okay?”

You make a soft sound of acknowledgement, working up the courage. “Stay the night?” you ask softly. 

“Gladly,” he answers. “I’ll even bring extra pillows.”

There’s a moment of soft, comfortable silence that you want to linger in forever -- you really don’t feel like trying to shower with this thing on, or to lay down in bed; even with Bodhi by your side, it’s going to be uncomfortable, especially with how much you usually toss and turn during the night.

“I never asked you how this happened,” he realizes.

You stiffen, silent.

He looks at you with a seriousness you hardly ever see, deep concern with anger simmering underneath. “I need you to tell me who did this to you.”

You shake your head. “Nobody hurt me.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you -- you could very well be lying, because you don’t want him to go off and beat someone up just because they bested you in a challenge, but there weren’t any challenge fights today; they’re over for the rest of the school year. Had someone gone out of their way to injure you, to make an attempt on your life? 

“My love, I’m serious. If someone tried to-”

“I tripped over my own shoelace and fell down the flight of stairs by Kaori’s classroom,” you interrupt quietly. “Half a dozen first-years saw the whole thing.”

He knows you well enough to know that you’re telling the truth, that what he’s seeing is genuine embarrassment -- the shyness in your voice and the warmth of your cheeks give it away.

He laughs in relief, and at how deeply unserious this whole situation is. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head with a slight smile. “It’s pretty funny.”

It’s hilarious. You’d completed your first year largely unscathed, sustaining no major injuries, but an untied shoelace had nearly done you in.

“That’s it,” he declares, “I’m tying your shoes for you every morning from now on.”

You laugh, wincing when the motion jostles your arm and sends a jolt of pain through you.

“Oh, honey,” he soothes. “C’mere.”

You settle into his arms, leaning against him as he embraces you, careful not to touch your splint.

“I love you,” he whispers, nudging his nose against yours.

“I love you too,” you reply. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Always, my love. Always.”

[bennie-jerry]

My Beef with Wanda Maximoff - An MCU Rant

Sorry not sorry, I will ride the Wanda-ain't-shiitake train till the wheels are worn out. I do not care what her fangirls say. And if you're legitimately going to be so overly offended just from me disliking a FICTIONAL character, I highly suggest you click off, make some tea, and watch a Ghibli movie.

How many times does it need to be said? Just because someone suffers from some form of (small or big) trauma, IT DOESN’T GIVE THEM A PASS TO DO EVIL SH—

I really REALLY sincerely hope there's lore or bits I'm missing here (and if so, PLEASE tell me because I WANT to be wrong so BAD). But from what I know and remember, I feel as though I have every right to be disgusted with who Wanda is as a person.

It frustrates me so much how this carmine-colored narcissist will whine about people being scared of her, but she does stuff only a scary person WOULD do.

Purposefully setting the Hulk off so you could use him as a wrecking ball on innocent civilians in Johannesburg during Age of Ultron? Seems scary as heck.

Literally warping the universe itself to hunt and kill a teenager who did nothing to you during Multiverse of Madness? Seems scary as heck.

Brainwashing an ENTIRE town JUST so you can live in delusion about your man not being dead during Wandavision? Seems DOUBLE scary as heck.

Don't even try to defend what she did in Age of Ultron. Even if she supposedly didn't INTEND to have civilians killed, she sure as HECK didn't seem all too sorry that it happened. She wasn't ‘regretful’ that she did it. She was only ‘regretful' when Bruce confronted her on it. She has the nerve (the utter AUDACITY) to hate Tony Stark for the same CRAP that she does (if not worse, which let's be honest—it’s worse).

At least Tony Stark DIED out of an effort to save everyone, whereas Wanda usually tends to only help others when it benefits HER.

Wanda is nothing more than a Multiversal brat with a god-complex and no one can tell me otherwise. If something does not go 100% her way, she completely acts out and throws a reality-warping tantrum.

“Oh, but she tried to fix everything in Wandavision!”

Yeah, only after finding out she was BRAINWASHING people!

How the FREAK do you reality warp an ENTIRE town (especially at the large radius she used her magic) and expect NO one to be under mind control? Would you NOT try to fly around the premises to see if ANYONE else was there?

Once again, even if this was an example where she didn't INTEND for it to happen, then that proves another great flaw that she has.

Wanda hardly (if ever) thinks through her actions. And then when her actions bite her in the butt, she has the nerve to be surprised. Wanda almost never (and I'm being generous here) considers how her actions harm or affect others until it turns around and affects HER.

She did not deserve Vision, he was too good of a man for her, sorry not sorry.

Just the stuff she did BEFORE Multiverse of Madness ALONE is enough to not like her.

Let's not even get into the fact she never ACTUALLY apologized to Bruce Banner for everything she put him through. All she said at most when he confronted her is, “I know you're angry…”

Oh wow, REALLY? I couldn't POSSIBLY understand why Banner would EVER be angry at you for essentially brain-raping him (going into his mind and memories without his CONSENT) and using his worst fears against him to trigger Hulk so you could use him like a personal killing machine, further lessening the very few support systems he already HAD. She should feel grateful Banner didn't immediately throw her through a wall upon seeing her.

“But she became an avenger and helped them in Endgame!”

I could not give less of a DOOKIE about the fact she did that. Wanda fighting Thanos was literally the ONLY option she possibly had if she didn't wanna turn into dust along with the other half of the population. Sure, she also did it because she was forced to kill her boo BECAUSE of Thanos, but let's be honest—she would've had to fight him regardless. Her handing Thanos’ butt to him (while a very cool scene) doesn't prove JACK about her character.

The fact she ever BECAME an avenger after effectively traumatizing the MAJORITY of them is mind-boggling to me.

“Oh, I'm sorry I weaponized all of your traumas against you for my own personal gain because I wanted to work with a genocidal robot, can I join you guys?”

“Sure, Wanda! Come into the team and we'll pretend like you didn't do a darn thing!”

(The fact this isn't even ALL that she's done is absurd, I can still keep going—)

Don't even get me STARTED on Multiverse of Madness. And before anyone tries to say, “She did it so she could have a reality with her children!”

BRO, HER KIDS WEREN'T EVEN FREAKING REAL—

Wanda Freaking Maximoff wanted to murder a TEENAGER all for some children that were not even ACTUAL people. And when she did have them, didn't she make them FIGHT against the military in Wandavision or am I mistaken (which I VERY MUCH hope I am because what the he---)?

I do not care whatsoever what her reason is or what trauma she went through. Attempted murder of a minor (ESPECIALLY in this case, a minor who didn't even do anything) is inexcusable to me.

There is no way in frog fingers you guys are ACTUALLY trying to justify and/or downplay a grown ADULT trying to murder a CHILD (because that's what America was—a CHILD).

(Her and Miguel O'Hara would get along GREAT, when's the collab--)

And by then, she had ALREADY brutally murdered a whole bunch of people and probably corrupted the multiverse even FURTHER than she already had.

It wasn't until an ALTERNATE version of her (who ACTUALLY had her kids) told her to sit the [BLEEP] down (I'm paraphrasing here, but you get my drift).

Wanda is NOT a victim. Is she a good villain? Yes. But this witch isn't a victim. Not anymore at least. She doesn't apologize for her actions. She doesn't take responsibility. She doesn't reflect on what she does.

And even when she DOES finally do ANY of those things in ANY capacity, the damage is already done. In fact, it's not JUST done, it's also BURNT inside the oven causing smoke to go everywhere.

There is no rhyme or reason you could pull out that will convince me to be anything short of angry with this character and I'm so tired of her fans trying to defend her just because she was a lab rat and lost her man.

Once again, it's not bad to like a character that does awful stuff. But please, for sanity sake, STOP acting like they're a lost little angel BECAUSE you like them. I know they say "hurt people hurt people" but that still doesn't justify doing bad stuff just because bad things happened to YOU.

[rogersideup]

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 8

Twinkles

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Little Birdie Next Part: True Romantic

Word Count: 7,072

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

A week and a handful of days was exactly how long you actually made it into your two weeks before you found yourself with a mind just as hectic and busy as it was the day you left the compound. But the only difference now was that it was you and your thoughts back on an empty road on the way back to the compound.

You figured that processing your feelings and settling back in at home might've been good for you. Maybe being back in the environment that caused all of the physical and mental injury would help move the healing along faster, help you make amends and tie up all the loose ends you needed in order to really solidify your place in such an environment.

Plus, you still wanted to talk to Bucky again. You needed to bury the fight for good. And Steve... lord knows you still have a lot to figure out between the two of you... and Bucky. Okay... there was still a lot of figure out with the three of you.

The road was so dark and almost lonely with the lack of traffic happening at 10pm on a weeknight. For some reason, not even your playlist or the almost freezing temperatures outside competing with your car heater was distracting your brain from the only thought it could conjure up, which was to call Steve.

You didn't know why you wanted to talk to him, or even what to say, but your fingers even pulled up his contact on your car's display just in case.

It was already late, and you had no reason, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. Wondering if he was already asleep, you took the leap of faith and pressed call.

Your intuition was right, because before you could even press call, Steve's name popped up on the little screen and your car informed you that he had called you first.

"Hello?" You spoke, eyes glued to the open road.

"Hey, Bug." He spoke back, voice deep and raspy as if he was half asleep. "What are you up to?"

"Funny you should ask, I was literally just about to call you but you beat me to it." You told him with a smile, well aware he couldn't see it.

"Oh really? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I don't know why I wanted to call you, but my brain was telling me I should." You explained. However, you could recognize now with the sound of his voice that there was something going on with him. He sounded sad, or maybe frustrated and definitely tired. "What's going on with you?"

"Funny you should ask" A very fake and lazy chuckle sounded. "I'm miserable at the moment, can you tell?"

"Just a little." You lied. He definitely sounded miserable. "What happened, Stevie?"

"The stupid heater in my apartment isn't working and it can't get fixed until tomorrow." Steve started. "I'm exhausted, but no matter what I do I can't fall asleep because I'm so fucking cold. I was going to ask Bucky if I could sleep at his place tonight but I saw Nat's location was in his apartment so that flew out the window."

It took a slight moment to figure out why Steve was complaining about the temperature when he was usually the kind've guy that could put up with anything. But when it clicked, you felt a billion times worse for him.

You remembered a few times Steve has confessed to you that he can't stand the feeling of being cold.. 66 years of being stuck in ice will do that to a person.

Though he had no memory of all of those long years, his brain seemed to hold onto what he felt during the first few moments of the plane he crashed straight into the arctic.

So every time Steve found himself alone in the cold, he swore he could feel his skin sting. His heart would race no matter how hard he tried to get it to slow down, it felt like the floor would start dropping below his feet, and the entire time he was waiting for pain that never came. The longer he stayed cold, the worse it would spiral.

Your eyes darted to the time displayed in your car, 10:54 pm. Then they read the outside temperature, 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

"That sounds awful, I'm sorry" You pouted. "You have my key, why don't you sleep at my place?"

There was a deep sigh through the phone line, and a few moments of silence as he contemplated what to say next. "It's okay. I'm actually not even too sure why I called you, I think I'm just trying to calm myself down."

Your pout deepened and your heart cracked. "Steve"

"Hmm?"

"Go sleep in my bed." You commanded.

"It's fine, Bug. I just wanted to talk to you. Why does it sound so... rumbly?" Steve tried to change the subject.

"Oh, because I'm driving right now." You explained. "Im using my phone's Bluetooth to turn on the heater in my apartment for you so it'll be nice and toasty when you get there."

"It's so late, why are you driving?" He asked.

"I'm actually on my way home right now." You explained keeping it vague, he didn't know which home you were referring to. "Is 73 degrees okay?"

"Bug, I can't." Steve denied, sounding remorseful.

"You can't what?"

"I can't just accept your kindness like this."

If you didn't know him so well, you almost wouldn't be able to know just from the sound of his voice that he was on the verge of tears. But i in this case, you probably knew him better that he would've liked. "Like what, Steve?"

"I still feel so bad that I hurt you." Steve explained, practically in a whisper. He was thankful you couldn't see the way his hands were shaking or the way he had to breathe through his mouth because of how fast his heart was pounding from the sheer amount of anxiety coursing through his nerves. "I can't just go seek comfort from you and invade your space after what I did. That's not fair."

Now, you felt like crying too. "We already talked about this. We can't keep holding onto what happened or it's going to make us both miserable."

"So you're still feeling better about it?"

"Since the last time I saw you? Absolutely." You reassured him. "What can I do to help you feel better right now?"

"This is more than enough." The statement was filled with the most confidence you've heard since answering the phone.

You knew he was seeking any sort of validation that you didn't absolutely hate him, so you tried your hardest to butter him up with some truthful vulnerability "I miss you"

"I miss you too." He agreed, letting his eyes fall shut. "Any chance I can see you again soon?"

You smiled, but he didn't have to know that. He also didn't have to know that you had a 35 minute ETA back to the compound. "I'm busy tomorrow, but how about Saturday?"

"Saturday works great." He declared, still miserable but he tried to be enthusiastic. "You're coming back to the compound on Saturday?"

"Yep, I'll be there." Again, not a lie. "What do you want to do on Saturday?"

"Sleep? Take a nap? Watch a movie? Take a nap while we watch movies?"

You laughed at his suggestions. "That sounds great. And what are you going to do right now?"

"Hopefully sleep and take a nap and sleep some more."

"Think some warm thoughts?"

"I wish I was a marshmallow on a stick." He mumbled.

"Love you lots, go sleep in my room."

"Love you more, no." Steve denied again. "I'll let you go now. I think I'm starting to feel a bit better."

"You think or you know?"

"I'll only know once I hang up."

"Well if you don't know, just call me back, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for talking to me, drive safe." He didn't want to hang up, but he also didn't want you to think he was being clingy or dramatic so he decided to cut the conversation short. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"Sure thing. Think about the marshmallow!"

A very small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Buggy."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

The phone-line ended and your music started again. Much like before, the road was still lonely, and you were still unable to get your mind off of Steve. Maybe even more so now than before the phone call. But there was nothing much you could even do for him from the middle of the highway, so you sang along to your playlist that was playing a bit too loud, and tried your best to ignore the uncomfortable sting settling in your lungs as anxiety took over the closer you got to the compound.

That anxiety only worsened as you pulled up, and parked in your reserved spot. You flung your bags over your shoulder and walked through the lobby to get to the elevator and up to your apartment.

The luxurious smell of the building, the sounds of the automated doors and buttons, mostly everyone walking around in their designated uniform, and all the familiar faces reminded you of the really dark place your mind forced you to live in for the long weeks before you left.

Your apartment was no help either. Dragging your feet through the living-room and into the bedroom made memories of all the hours you were stuck in bed flood back so fast you felt physically nauseated. The tossed around blankets over your couch and your bed left unmade was nothing but evidence of how fast you left the compound in the first place. As if you set out on an emergency mission to save yourself.

Luckily you had a perfect excuse to not linger for too long on your own, so you dropped your bags in the corner of your room before making your bed and let your legs carry you over to Steve's place.

After making your way all the way there, and taking a big deep breath to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen, you slid his key that you never gave back to him into his door.

Then, a voice appeared practically out of thin air. "Oh wow, never thought I'd live to see the day Rogers has a girl sneaking in" Tony commented as he walked right past you in the hallway.

"This is definitely not what it looks like." You denied Tony's remark with a shake of your head, but he didn't stick around long enough to even explain yourself.

You stuck to rolling your eyes as you entered his place. It was odd being in his apartment after so much time away, but it was exactly how it always was. Immaculately clean, decorated well, and it smelled subtly like his cologne that you loved so much.

Though you wanted to stop for a moment to reflect, it did little to keep you from walking straight to his bedroom door and opening it slowly as to not scare him.

The first thing you noticed was that his TV was on and playing a movie you didn't recognize, but it provided enough light for you to see the lump hiding beneath the covers. How you still felt the overwhelming sense of comfort you always did when you'd sneak into his bed during the sad and lonely nights. Then, you realized how cold it actually was in his apartment. The longer you were there, the more the chill in the air seeped through your clothes and raised bumps on your skin.

You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but you walked towards him slowly regardless. Then, the blankets tugged around him tighter. The smile on your face spread when you realized he was awake and hiding from what he assumed was Bucky.

"Not in the mood, Punk." Steve mumbled.

A giggle escaped you as you sat on his bed. "Rude"

You watched as his head poked out just for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he let out a little sound of complaint, and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"Hey! Where did you go?" You questioned, smile stretching wider.

He mumbled out a statement you could barely understand, but you did catch the end. "....... liar."

"What did you call me?!" You questioned, faking offense.

There was no response other than a little laugh so quiet you almost missed it, so your hands weren't shy to grab onto the lump of muscles and anxiety covered in a pile of blankets and shake him around playfully. "What did you call me?!?!" You asked again with a giggle.

This time, he poked out just the top of his head and his stupidly beautiful big blue eyes. It was painfully obvious that he was hiding a smile despite his misery. "I called you a big fat liar" he sassed.

"I told you I was on my way home." You defended yourself with a performative gasp and your right palm straight over your heart. "I never lied!"

"I thought you were Bucky!" Steve continued, still hiding most of his face. He was thankful that the hoodie pulled over his head helped hide his messy hair.

"It's pronounced Buggy" you smiled.

"What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Stop asking so many questions, I'm here to rescue you." You enthused, but it earned another groan and the blanket back over his head. "Wow, you're really going to make my first mission back a difficult one huh?"

More gibberish grumbles sounded from underneath the blanket pile. Even if you asked him to clarify the meaning of his babbles, you knew he was still going to be unwilling to cooperate.

"Fine, you leave me no choice." You huffed while standing up from your spot and kicking your shoes off. Then, you grabbed hold of what you assumed was his shoulder and his waist, then pushed with all your might to roll him over from his back and onto his side.

Laughter he was trying his hardest to contain slipped past his lips when he heard your sounds of struggle. "I'm offended that you're huffing and puffing up there."

"Oh, so now you're speaking crystal clear?" You noted, taking in a deep breath after moving the dead weight of a super soldier. "Sorry for the huffing and puffing, didn't realize you were made of pure muscle and uranium. If I did, I would've warmed up a bit first."

"Uranium?" Steve questioned still sounding miserable, still hiding from you.

"The heaviest element on earth" you clarified, lifting the corner of the blanket pile on top of him before sliding into his bed. "It's a compliment on your big strong muscles, Stevie, don't get it twisted."

"What are you doing?!" His head lifted in confusion as you got into bed with him, under the safety of his blanket fort, and started curling yourself behind him.

The front of your body was against his back, your legs tucked behind his, and your arm wrapped around his waist to hold him nice and snug before you put your chin to his shoulder and propping yourself up a bit so you could see his face. "Providing you with the love and warmth you need to feel better, isn't that obvious?"

His big blue eyes opened to look up at you for just a moment, and when they met your gaze his stomach filled with butterflies and an undeniable blush warmed his cheeks. Then, his pretty eyes gleamed with that familiar twinkle that made the corners of your lips tug upwards.

You were so much braver than he was, because before the big blow out between the two of you, a friendly snuggle here and there was no big deal. But now that you knew the extent of his admiration for you, he didn't know if he would ever find the courage to touch you again. It was too high stakes, and way too nerve wracking for him to risk. Because if he tried his hand at you and fumbled his chance, he'd never forgive himself.

You found that hesitance to be obvious, but sweet and endearing. Much like you found his reactions to your actions to be even sweeter and more endearing.

The 6'4, 250 pound weapon of a man was nothing but putty in your hands now, and that did a number to your capacity to fight off your own repressed feelings for him. If he was putty, then you were melting like a snowman on a summer vacation. Neither of you stood a chance against each other, both of you were letting your walls fall not only down, but also apart.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut so hard that his whole face scrunched up, and let his head hit the pillow once more. "Why am I the little spoon?"

"Because I know you well, Stevenson" Your smile widened.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You have the most obvious little spoon energy of any person I've ever met before." You explained. "That's not a bad thing, it's just a fact. Are you not loving this?"

"That's a trick question" He huffed in complaint before nestling closer to you. "You're so warm."

"See? That'll make you feel better soon. And now you don't have to be alone, so we can take some nice deep breaths until our anxiety floats away... but of course if you hate this too much I can just leave..."

There it was. The biggest relief to Steve's mind and heart... your sassy and sarcastic spunk was starting to shine back through you. Though he still felt like pieces of yourself were lost, the smallest pieces of you were a victory to him. If he was just a little less anxious, he'd find it within himself to bounce off of your sarcasm, but right now he just needed his mind to be less busy.

Steve shook his head shyly. "I really don't hate this."

"See? So just relax." You reminded him as you settled in and let yourself fully lay down behind him. "You're so tense."

"I can never get myself to relax when I'm cold." He explained to you. "It feels like I'm waiting for something that never happens."

You could read between the lines of his words. He was waiting for a plane crash, a physical feeling of pain that he associated with being so cold.

"Nothing is going to hurt you, Stevie." You reminded him gently. Of course he knew that, but sometimes anxiety lies to brain if its victim. Sometimes a small reminder is all you need.

"I know." He agreed with a small nod, trying to get his hands to stop trembling.

"You know it's 42 degrees in here? I read the thermostat on my way in."

"Feels like it" Steve complained.

"My place is a toasty 73."

"That's lovely." He mumbled. "M'happy for you."

"You're so stubborn." You huffed, shoving your face between his shoulder and neck and placing your hand over his heart.

Steve gasped in fake offense. "Don't go searching for my heart rate! That's personal!"

"It's going pretty fast there, Bestie." You smiled, feeling it thunk against your hand before removing it from his chest and sliding it up to his shoulder so you could squeeze him just a little tighter.

"You're not helping, Bud" He admitted, trying his hardest to contain his feelings for you from oozing out through the very loose seams of his heart. The way you were squeezing his body against yours with such a lovely and gentle pressure was not helping it stay in place.

"It's pronounced Bug." You joked again. "It's obvious to me that you're still harboring a lot of guilt and that's half the reason for your anxiety right now, so we're going to stay like this until we talk it through and your hard head softened up enough to realize that I love you, and it makes me sad that you're not feeling great right now."

Steve audibly whimpered and shoved his face into his pillow, hiding away once again. "I just feel bad."

"We've already been over this. All is well."For a few moments, you had a new found sense of guilt. It felt like you had gone way too far in punishing him when it felt as though he was already punishing himself far more than he deserved. "Misunderstandings happen, arguments happen, fights happen, but it's just how the world works and it's a testament to how much we really care about each other. If we didn't care to have each other in our lives then there would be nothing to fight for, right?"

Still in hiding, Steve gently nodded his head.

"I've known you for how long?" You asked.

"Nine months" his muffled voice responded from somewhere between his face and the pillow.

You smiled. "How many days a week have I seen you in those 9 months?"

"Almost everyday, except for the last few weeks" He pouted.

"That's 279 days we've spent together and after every single one of those days, good or bad, I've still chosen to see you, or talk to you, or even think about you. And all of that, all of this has led us to right here, right now. You know why?"

Another grumpy grumble only fueled your fire to complete your mission of soothing the anxious soldier. "Hmm?"

"Because love is unconditional." You stated confidently. "And I can't let anyone I love be somewhere that's making them miserable. That's why you let me go, right? You gave me a chance to leave the compound."

Again, Steve nodded.

"And that's why I can't let you stay here tonight." Your hand squeezed the top of his shoulder. "...are you convinced yet?"

Suddenly, his head popped up "I like hearing you talk so I'm just listening while talking to work up the courage to get out of bed."

Your giggle sounded like heaven so close to his ear as you propped yourself up behind him again. "I had two more tricks up my sleeve, do you want to hear them or are we all good here?"

"I want to hear them"

"Okay the first one was that I was going to use our rooms as metaphors. We could stay here together and be uncomfortable and cold, or we could be cozy together in my warm fuzzy bed but we have to choose to move on."

"So deep and philosophical" Steve grinned. "The second one?"

"Oh the second one is cheap bait. I was going to tell you I have a family size bag of m&m's on my kitchen counter."

"Is that the truth?" He raised an eyebrow, looking back at your face to search for a bluff.

"The whole truth, and nothing but the truth." You confirmed.

"What kind of m&m's?"

One word to seal the deal, you knew it would get him up out of bed and straight into your apartment. "Mini"

"Get off of me, I have important business to attend." Steve joked with a very gentle sense of urgency, shrugging you off of his back.

You let him go and felt a sense of pride when the big beefy soldier got out of bed to follow you.

"Emergency mission?"

"Very important" he agreed, trying not to wince as the cold hair hit his skin again.

"Then put some pep in your step Rogers, we've got a mission to accomplish!"

He giggled and followed you through his room, into the living room and nearly out the front door before he passed a mirror and stole a glance at himself.

Strands of wild blonde hair were sticking out of the front of his hoodie pulled over his head. Socks on his feet, sweatpants, and the very obvious sleep deprivation causing redness under his eyes was not his best look.

"Oh wow, hope the hallways are clear because I'm going to scare people if they see me like this" Steve laughed at his reflection, getting his slippers on his feet.

"Maybe people will start treating you like you're human if they see you in something a little less business casual." You smiled, feeling happy that you got to see the usually put together soldier in such a state.

"I'm accepting it for what it is, because there's no amount of brushing or product in this world that would be able to fix my hair right now." He shrugged, following you out of the door and into the hallways.

"It's cute, you can pull it off."

No longer being able to hide his blushing cheeks from you, he bowed his head to the floor and trailed behind you all the way up to your apartment. His eyes stayed glued to the floor even as you unlocked your front door, he took that moment to fill his lungs with a big breath of air to try and snap out of the anxious daze he was in.

But as the door swung open, a big wave of warm air washed over his body and you took a step aside to let him in first. Only when he stepped into your warm living room did he feel like he could actually breathe again.

The floor felt a little more stable, his legs a little more steady, and the world seemed to have stopped its crashing and burning.

As you locked the front door and kicked off the shoes, Steve looked at your couch and suddenly felt a whole new wave of anxiety over the memories replaying in his head of that very night everything changed all because he sat in that one spot on your couch.

Then he thought of the last time he was here, the anxiety and gut wrenching guilt he felt as he trudged up to your apartment after nobody had seen you for a while, the way his heart dropped into his stomach when he found you asleep in your be-

"Stop thinking." Both your hands reached up and squeezed his shoulders from behind him. "Go to bed."

Immediately snapping out of it, he chuckled at the way you knew him so well before dragging his feet into your room, kicking off his slippers, and burrowing himself underneath your blankets this time.

You walked in a few moments later, bag of m&ms in hand, and a content grin on your face and warmth in your heart at the sight of Steve in your bed. He was already lying on his stomach with his arm above his head, and his head tucked into the ditch of his elbow.

After placing the bag of chocolate on the nightstand, you pulled the blankets over his back and sat next to him.

"Nice and warm?" You asked him, left hand rubbing small circles over his shoulder blade.

"like a marshmallow on a stick" his sleepy voice sounded.

"Cozy?"

"Mhm" Steve nodded.

"Like a bug in a rug!" You enthused, earning his laughter. "I'm happy you're here, Stevie."

"I'm happy that you're here." He turned his head to look at you, big blue eyes twinkling just for you. "A big part of me thought you'd never come back."

You let out a sigh, not being able to come up with much of a good reason why you came back. "Just felt like I had some unfinished business I had to take care of."

"Does that mean you know what you're going to do?"

You knew he was once again asking about your choice in quitting, staying an agent, or becoming an avenger, but you still couldn't quite get the insecure voice in the back of your heart and forefront of you brain to quiet down yet.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to tell anyone until after it's official so nobody tries to get me to change my mind." Your lips pressed together, contemplation turning your smile into a contemplative grin. "So right now I'm going to take a shower as fast as I can so I can get back to the blondie in my bed, then after that I'll probably lay awake all night wondering if I even know how to make good choices for myself."

"Wow, not even me?" Steve faked offense.

"I didn't even tell my Mom" You reassured him. "But I have a meeting with Fury in the morning to make my decision official so, you'll know tomorrow."

"So we're both going to be lying awake all night?"

You chuckled. "No, because I can tell you're exhausted and I already know you're going to fall asleep the second the second I stop engaging you in conversation."

"You're so mean." He smiled, eyes still wide and twinkling.

"Tell me about it." you agreed. "Are you going to be okay if I go shower really quick?"

"Mhm, I'm a big boy." He nodded.

"Okay big boy, you go to sleep, and I'll be right back" You squeezed his shoulder before getting up.

Steve was quick to let the exhaustion close his heavy eye lids, and he focused on emptying his head of it's constant racing thoughts. He listened to the sound of your drawers opening and closing, then the bathroom door closing behind you.

The sound of the shower turning on and the flowing water helped provide some comfort as he realized he finally felt safe and warm again. A lazy smile unintentionally spread across his face when your music followed, but it was playing so low he could barely hear it. One thing he knew about you was that you had to listen to music through completing any task, and you loved to share that music with everyone around you. But right now, it was quiet in consideration of him, and that was far more touching to him that you'd probably ever assume.

But that was just the effect you had on Steve, every little thing you did was so endearing to him and he just couldn't help himself for falling into you as if you were a trap perfectly designed to capture him.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind now, so much so that he slowly started slipping into a dreamy state, that was until not even two minutes after you had left him the bathroom door had opened again and he heard you walking around your room once more.

Assuming you had forgotten something, he paid it no mind. That was until your footsteps approached him, and he heard your voice whispering.

"Stevie?" Your voice was calm and gentle, and the shower was still running. "You still awake?"

"Yeah" his eyes opened again, and eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Sorry, I just- I was thinking about our phone call earlier" You started before sitting down next to him again. "It's just not fair so I didn't want you to fall asleep before I had a chance to tell you."

"Not fair?" He questioned sleepily, forcefully blinking to keep his heavy eyes open.

Your nervous tight lipped grin told Steve everything he needed to know. Maybe it was just the lighting in your bedroom, or perhaps anxiety and exhaustion making him hallucinate but he swore he caught a slight blush on your cheeks.

"I can't help but to feel like maybe some of the anxiety or negative feelings you still have are because I haven't given you enough reassurance, and I'm sorry." You tried to read his expression as well as he was reading yours, but you picked up nothing but exhaustion and relief. "You know how much I love you, right?"

A small grin took over his lips and he let his eyes close in contentment, feeling a little too tired and comfortable to keep them awake anymore. But he nodded nonetheless.

"You know that your friendship and support has been a pivotal part of my career and personal growth, and I'll be loyal to you no matter what we go through?"

"I do now" he nodded again.

"Remember how I said we can explore the cute little twinkles in your eyes when things settle?" You started. "You know that's not just because I'm comfortable with it, but because I like you too, right?"

His eyes snapped open and eyebrows furrowed as if you had just set off a bomb in the bed he was sleeping in. "No, that was not made clear."

Steve swore his cheeks got so hot he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through the skin.

"Okay, well now it was!" You said with a calm and enthusiastic attitude that he could never even dream of achieving if a confession like that just rolled off his own tongue. "Glad we had this talk, I'm going to go take a shower now."

He was in pure disbelief as you stood up and walked away. "No insight on that? No further explanation?"

"You're really tired, don't want to bore you with the details." You shrugged with a playful giggle.

"I'm never going to sleep again" He said louder as you got further away.

"I don't believe you! Besides, the shower is running and I don't want to waste water." You pointed out. "I'll be right back!"

The bathroom door closed behind you, locked, then your faced scrunched up as your silently screamed and danced like a teenage girl. That locked door also gave Steve the space he needed to whimper into his elbow and mourn the person be was before his knowledge of your feelings.

You had simultaneously killed the man he once was, and birthed a new version of him. One whose thoughts were far more insufferable than the last, with approximately 4 billion questions to interrogate you with, and also less and more anxiety at the same time.

As promised, you showered quickly and changed into a loose t shirt and tight shorts you worked out in occasionally before making your way back to your bedroom. Tossing your dirty clothes into the hamper, you quietly turned off your bedside lamp leaving the room dark and slowly got into bed where Steve was, now laying on his side facing the middle of the bed.

As you got under the blankets and settled in next to him, you noticed he had taken his hoodie off leaving him in a shirt with his pretty blonde hair to be crazy on its own accord. Feeling happy that he was finally warm and content, you let your head hit the pillow, your body facing his as well.

You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but you didn't pay it much mind. Happy to be back with your best friend and in your own bed, time slipped away from you as fast as your conscious.

Unsure how much time had passed, an undeniable cheeky smile spread across your lips when Steve's heavy forearms reached out to you and planted itself on your waist. His touch was tentative and very experimental, your smile widened as you could feel how hesitant he was to let the full weight of his arm rest on you.

To applaud his bravery and encourage good behavior, you placed your hand on his forearm to welcome him to relax and maybe even come a little closer if he felt like it. But he immediately ripped his arm away.

"...sorry" he mumbled quietly.

You reached over to grab his wrist and pull his arm back to right where it was before deciding that you needed to be brave for him. So you moved your whole body closer to his, pulled his arm around you, and you put your arm around him. "I was trying to pull you in, not push you away."

"Sorry again" he chuckled lazily.

You could feel his body relaxed as you tangled your legs with his, and snuggled your face into his chest. How he always managed to smell like a slice of heaven was beside you, but you were happy to reap the benefits.

Tightening his arms around you and nestling his chin into your hair, he felt like there was nothing that could ever get him to give this up. There was no emergency in the world that could pull his mind away from the happiness and comfort he felt in your embrace. Really, nothing was going to hurt him.

"Comfy?" He asked you, voice deep and raspy.

"Snug as a bug in a rug." You confirmed, making him giggle.

"Sweet dreams, Buggy."

"Goodnight, Twinkles." You said, knowing he would hate the nickname you had thought of.

"How dare you" He complained regardless of being able to hear the smile in his voice.

"Sorry, Twinkles. It's stuck now. Nothing I can do to change it."

"If you insist"

You internally celebrated the win. "Love you."

"Love you more."

As the night fell and the morning rose, Steve didn't remember a single thing. He slept like the dead, and woke up in pure bliss the next morning.

He wasn't sure he had ever been so comfortable in his entire life. The two of you weren't really cuddling anymore, but your sweet little face was still facing him, and your arms still held onto each other while your bodies drifted and sprawled out to their own contentment.

Gentle morning light, your calm and gentle breaths, he could've stayed like this forever.

He looked around and noticed you were sleeping on your tummy now, one of your legs were hiked up so your knee was against his thigh, and you had kicked most of the blankets off of yourself in your sleep. Though the heater was on and he wasn't concerned about you being cold, something caught his eye and piqued his interest.

The back of your shirt hiked up and exposed some of the skin on your back. Steve had seen you in a sports bra countless times before, even naked once, but the difference was now your back was covered in a big scar.

He frowned for you, knowing that there was a permanent reminder on your body of the asshole who went out of his way to make your life a living hell. It also left him wondering what his body would look like if it allowed him to hold onto every scar and mark obtained from battle.

Then, your stupid alarm went off and had to ruin everything. Steve tried his hardest not to curse the universe for taking this moment of peace away from him as he grabbed your phone to turn your alarm off.

He gently shook your arm until your pretty eyes blinked open.

"Time to wake up, buggy." He sweetly smiled at you.

You groaned before shoving your face into a pillow. Now it was your turn to be the dramatic one. "Says who? You can't make me"

"Says Fury, your meeting is in an hour." Steve reminded you.

"You make some good points" Your giggle sounded, poking your head back out. "Good morning, Steven."

"Steven?" Steve questioned with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Yeah, short for Stevenson!" You said matter of factly, prying yourself out of bed and swinging your legs over the side of the mattress.

"Oh right, my full name." Steve agreed with you with all the seriousness in the world. He would stop the world from turning just to entertain your humor.

"Mhm, it's on your birth certificate." You nodded. Still sitting on the edge of your bed, you started thinking about the day ahead of you. "Hey Twinkles, I have a question."

A smile stretched across your face as you could hear his sigh at the nickname that definitely wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "How can I help you, bug." Steve's tone unenthusiastic.

"I just realized I never got my new suit back, so what am I supposed to wear to a meeting with Fury?" You looked back at him fast enough to catch a sneaky smile on his face.

"Oh there is a reason you don't have that back yet, but you don't need it just to see Fury. Wear something nice-ish, you'll be fine."

"And what would that reason be?" You questioned, finally standing up and stretching out your back.

"I guess you'll find out today." Steve shrugged, still laying down, still feeling lazy.

"You boys are exhausting to be around" You joked while disappearing into your bathroom.

Somewhere between you humming along to your music, and your footsteps around your apartment, Steve drifted off again. He wasn't necessarily asleep, but he wasn't really awake either.

Time and space didn't exist in this subliminal place, he was just happy to be around you again. It was the first time since your initial argument together that he had felt truly peaceful, and he intended on soaking in it.

...that was until you threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!" Steve complained, opening his eyes to glare at you. His heart nearly dropped to the floor when he saw how pretty you looked. You had perfectly styled your hair and put on a full face of makeup, while also donning a business casual outfit that suited you perfectly. Out of habit, Steve tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was having heart palpitations. "You are so mean."

"That was payback!" You explained. "I'm leaving now."

"Are you nervous?" Steve asked, trying to get a read on your emotions.

You watched as he finally got up out of bed. "Not really. Should I be?"

"Not really." Steve shook his head with a polite smile. "Should I be?"

You shrugged your shoulders as he approached you. "Not really."

"Good. Then all is well." He opened his arms for you, and you accepted.

Ugh. You even smelled just as good as you looked.

"As much as I'd like to stay here and hug you forever, I don't think Fury would appreciate it if I was late." You smiled against his chest.

"I think he would be mad at me too" Steve agreed with a chuckle and let you go from his arms. "Any chance you'll tell me your career choice right now before the meeting?"

"No, but I'll tell you when I get out" You giggled.

"Far enough" Steve didn't want to push you. "Good luck, Buggie."

"See you later, Twinkles."

Next Part: True Romantic

Tag List: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hii I saw that you write for the amazing digital circus! Can I get a Jax x reader hurt/comfort? The reader is quiet and kind (not particularly shy, just a listener rather than a talker), they really want to get close to Jax, but someday he just says some hurtful things to them, they try to hide how hurt it made them (and fail to do so) and he regrets it and tries to make up for it (in his own way lmao)

Sorry if anything is written awkwardly, English is not my native language

jax hurting the readers feelings

i think i might have written something like before but i dont really feel like looking for it- so! more jax writing! hooray!

notes: reader is gn, no romantic relationship, jax is a jerk but its not specified what he does to the reader to hurt them

cws: jax being jax

youre not an exception in the circus, youre still going to be a target for jax's actions in one way or another- pranks, or him holding something over your head or him saying something a little mean

the fact youre so nice kind of gets on his nerves, not much seems to upset you and given that jax is making it his mission to make everyone in the circus irritated, he takes your patience as a challenge

so you would think then that when he finally gets you upset, regardless of what he ends up doing to make you crack- he would feel victorious

but surprisingly for him, he feels... hollow mostly, nothing really changed which admittedly is a little disappointing given how much time and energy he put into his antics

its later on that the guilty really starts to sink in, he really thought you would just go back to your old self and interact with him as normal.. he uh.. never really had to deal with someone just ignoring and avoiding him like this like hes a disease

tries to corner you to get your attention but that quickly back fires, making things worse

i dont think he will ever properly formally apologize, which that in of itself is its own issue because he acts like someone is pouring hot glue on him when he tries

but he does try to show you that hes remorseful in other ways- actions through words

well, sometimes words, he stands up for you if an antagonistic npc is giving you a hard time- as a personal plus for him it gives him an excuse to take his frustrations out and bully the npc

if him making you upset involved hiding or altering or breaking something of yours he takes the time to attempt to fix it so it can be returned to you

not at all perfect but the fact he even tried is something

he still sometimes gets onto you after your relationship is mended but its not as rough as before

[its-time-to-write]

hello! only if you’re comfortable with writing it of course, could i request a fic where the reader has a really bad day at work and jamie comes over with snacks to watch movies and stuff while giving the reader reassurance?🫶

no pressure ofc!!

-xx<3

Plot? We don’t know her. Thanks for requesting! This helped me put of my slump a little

send for me

“Argh!” You slam the door to your flat in frustration and throw your bag on the floor so hard it bounces. It’s been an absolute shit day. Everything that could possibly have gone wrong, went wrong, and somehow it became your responsibility to fix it. It was like one of those dreams where you can never get where you’re going no matter how fast you run. You always seem to end up going backwards.

But now you’re home and you’re free to scream to the void in peace. You trudge to your room and flop facedown on your bed, shoes and clothes still on, resolving not to move until the sun comes up.

You’re there for maybe ten seconds when your stomach grumbles. Shit.

You groan and roll over. You should probably eat something. Hopefully there are good leftovers in the fridge because you are absolutely not cooking. You remember that you just cleaned everything out yesterday and you’re pretty sure that nothing could make this day worse. 

You pull out your phone to order takeout and see you have a missed text from one Jamie Tartt. 

Double shit.

With the way today’s going, it’s probably a breakup text.

(It’s not, you’re just dramatic.)

What it actually says is, Hey love, how was ur day? ;)

You smile ever so slightly, despite yourself.

You reply with a singular: shitty to which Jamie says, be over in 20.

—

You hear the key turn in your door almost exactly twenty minutes later, and you have not moved from the bed. 

That’s actually not true, you moved once to roll back over onto your stomach.

You can hear Jamie moving around in the kitchen before coming into the bedroom.

You hear his footsteps stop at the foot of your bed. 

“Babe,” he says.

You grunt in response.

“Have you been here the whole fucking time?”

“Jamie Tartt,” you say, face still pressed into your pillow, “you better wipe that goddamn smile off your face before I flip over.”

“How’d you even know I was smiling?” he says defensively, and you don’t need to look at him to know that he still is. You roll over to face him.

Jamie makes what he calls his “empathy face.”

“Aw, babe,” he says. “You didn’t even change out of your work clothes?”

You shake your head, making no effort to get up.

Jamie shakes his head back at you and then, without warning, flops on top of you.

“Jamie!” you shriek, “get off!”

You try to shove him off you, but you swear he wills himself to be heavier.

“Nope,” he says, voice muffled due to the fact that his head is in the crook of your neck.

You wiggle a few times, then give up, succumbing to giggles. Jamie pushes himself up a little bit and grins.

“There it is!” he says. “Fucking best part of me day.” He’s getting up just as fast as he laid down. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, yeah?”

You sit up and let Jamie take off your work clothes and maneuver you into an old t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s been over enough times that he knows where everything is. He can’t resist making a comment about your semi-naked body, one that makes you blush and smack him, while he sticks his tongue out at you. The only way to get rid of that cocky look is to kiss it off his face, so you do. You’re kissing him and he’s sliding his hands up your shirt so you move to take it off but he grabs your hands and says, “Oi!”

You still. “What?”

“Took me forever to get you out of bed, I’ll get you back in it but I brought food. It’s in the kitchen and it’s gettin’ cold.”

You squint at him. “Fine. But after that you’re going to fuck me so good that I’m going to completely forget this fucking awful day.”

Jamie gives you a small salute and says, “Yes boss,” before hauling you over his shoulder and into the kitchen.

—

You’re halfway through the pizza he brought when you say, “Should you be eating this?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. What Roy don’t know won’t kill him.”

You laugh and lapse back into silence.

You both have a few more bites when Jamie asks, “D’you want to talk about it?”

You glare at the slice you’re holding. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”

Jamie waits expectantly.

“It just fucking sucked,” you say frankly. “Everything went wrong. I had to deal with it. I didn’t get anything done that I needed to, and I’m pretty sure that I’m going to get in trouble for it tomorrow. And I hate that shit. None of it was my fault but fucking Matt from HR is going to tell everyone that it was because he fucking hates me.”

Jamie nods. “Fuck Matt from HR,” he says. 

You shrug. “I just want to, I don’t know, reset my fucking heart rate to a normal pace. It’s all batshit crazy because I’m so stressed. And tired. And I’ve sworn more today than I have in my entire fucking life.”

Jamie laughs at that. “Gonna give Roy a run for his money, ey?” he asks.

“I’ve been thinking about letting my eyebrows go,” you say seriously. “Go for the full look.”

“One’s enough, babe.” Jamie shudders. “Hey, when you’re done, we’re gonna watch a movie.”

You open your mouth to protest but he shushes you. “Don’t want to hear it, this is your one opportunity to make me watch a movie of your choice, no complaints.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine, some complaints.”

—

You picked Jamie’s season of Lust Conquers All. Hey, he said minimal complaining. Plus, he adds a nice narrative. He has a lot of things to say about it.

The credits are rolling on episode three, and you and Jamie are sitting on your couch. Well, he’s sitting. You’re laying down with your legs across his lap. He wraps an arm around you waist and pulls you onto his lap for a kiss.

“Babe,” he says between kisses, “did you mean what you said earlier? We can just go to sleep if you want.”

You smile. “Take me to bed Tartt.”

Jamie smiles back then stops. “Wait. Did you mean, like, to sleep or..?”

You roll your eyes. “For sex, Jamie.”

Jamie grins again. “Right, yeah, that’s what I thought, just wanted to be sure.”

You stand up and he follows, letting you pull him to the bedroom.

He says, “Lead the way, boss,” and you tell him you’re pretty sure you can work with that. 

It’s a better ending to the day than you thought it was going to be.

[radiostaticyuri]

Vox's hypnosis actually works on Alastor. The thing about it is that Vox's hypnosis works like real life hypnosis. (ie. It can only make someone do something they already want to do). Normally everyone wants to do what Vox says because hes Vox. Alastor is different, because he doesn't buy into basically anything that Vox is selling.

It gets a little more complicated when it comes to the two of them spending time around each other, though, because Alastor doesn't even know what he wants. Alastor doesn't realize that's how Vox's hypnosis works. He thinks it can just make you do anything, so there will be times where Vox will try something and it won't work, and there will be times where it does work. Alastor just thinks he's more able to resist Vox because he's an Overlord. This isn't true.

Hypnotization is one of the few ways Alastor can be made to say or do something genuine even when he's not exactly ready to, and not being in control of his own actions is one of his greatest fears. So, naturally, any time Vox successfully hypnotizes Alastor, Alastor ultimately comes out of it feeling gross and violated.

Which Vox doesn't care about, because what's the big deal? Alastor wouldn't have done it if he didn't really want to deep down. Whatever he told Alastor to do, it probably resulted in the two of them having a good time, so Alastor has nothing to be upset about. Plus, Alastor has never told Vox no. His behavior after the fact suggests he's unhappy, but he's never outright told Vox to stop because doing the nice thing even though he wasn't prepared to still conflicts him. What if he says no and then they never do the nice thing again because he can't suck it up enough to initiate anything without the hypnosis?

Alastor ends up using it as a crutch. If he doesn't want to admit to having liked something, he can just say "well I was forced to do it." The fact he would admit something like that is telling on its own, because it implies he's even more unnerved and humiliated by the thought of people knowing he enjoys intimacy than he is by the thought of people knowing Vox has power over him.

The other problem is that he can be especially deranged sometimes and pull a "haha well i was actually just pretending to be hypnotized. I did it because I wanted to, not because he made me." But sometimes, he doesn't actually know. Because he doesn't believe Vox's hypnosis only gets people to do things they already wanted to do, sometimes he psyches himself out and doesn't know what he actually wanted to do vs what he didn't actually want to do. He gets really frustrated about it. In the end he's only really hurting himself, unless he somehow finds a way to gaslight Vox by lying.

But Vox is just like. Lol this is a win for me i get to do awesome stuff with alastor no regrets im getting all the attention from him EVER this is awesome

Its a really dubious thing because Alastor is just made so uncomfortable by the hypnosis, but Vox won't stop, but Alastor won't tell him to stop because what if once he stops they never do anything nice together again? And admitting any of that stress and fear to Vox would undo him. It'd shatter him.

I have lots of scenarios about this in my brain it can fuck them up so bad. Vox using his hypnosis to make Alastor confront every single desire he thought he locked away in a box at the back of his mind. Vox being endeared by that vulnerabiltiy, so positively intoxicated by it that he doesn't see that instead of fixing Alastor, it's making him worse.

Or maybe he does, and maybe he prefers it that way just to see Alastor express something other than his facade, to know Alastor actually cares even if he won't say it, to command Alastor's attention in a way no one else can.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Up next we’ve got the post-season seven stories! (Lol that was some fun alliteration)

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷 (it might be a BTHB but i’m loving the family feels! Loving chris’s new understanding of eddie but hating how he got it - diaz parents better watch out!)

🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️🛏️ (there was only one bed! Seriously buck and eddie really thought it through and this was the only option. Like really there was nothing else to be done. No don’t think about it too much just trust them! 😝 i’m so pumped for this one!)

- PCA <3

Loving the themes!!

45 for 🦷 (Yay! thank you!!!!):

---

“Christopher,” Eddie exhales, voice barely audible. It hurts too much. 

“I thought I’d feel better because they’d comfort me, but all they do is make everything feel worse.”

“Okay,” Eddie mumbles. He takes the tub of ice cream from his son and places it in the overfull basket. Then he puts the basket on the ground. He pulls Christopher into a hug. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m sorry it happened this way.”

Vaguely, Eddie is aware they’re having this conversation in the frozen dairy aisle of a grocery store. Not, like, a therapist’s office. Which is what he might have preferred. But, fuck it. Chris is ready to talk. 

“It made me sad for you,” Chris blubbers. 

“For me?” Eddie asks.

“Yes, you, Dad!!” Chris snaps. “Because I always had you to make me feel better, but who did you ever have? Did you ever feel okay?”

Eddie is shaking a little.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Chris.”

“But I am.” 

Fuck. Fuck, Eddie doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know what to do. It’s like Christopher’s brain has matured a big lunging step forward over the summer and he’s seeing Eddie as a whole person and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. He’s not supposed to be something Chris worries about. 

“Christopher,” Eddie says. “I… Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling kind of bad about myself. But I’ve got Buck and Bobby and lots of friends that help me. I’ve got you. Being your dad makes me so happy, okay? So you don’t need to worry about this.”

Christopher makes a small, frustrated noise. “And-and I’m working on it, okay?” Eddie reminds him. “I’m working on feeling better about myself, and who I really am, and not… Not hiding. And it’s going to be better. It’s all going to be better, and it won’t be like this forever, okay?”

---

48 for 🛏️ (There was simply no other way!)

---

“Therapy,” Eddie answers. 

Buck tries not to react. He hadn’t known Eddie was going back to therapy. Despite multiple suggestions from literally everyone in his life. 

“Cool,” Buck replies. 

“Where were you?” Eddie asks. 

“Mowing your lawn,” Buck replies. 

The city has regulations, after all. 

“Oh,” Eddie replies. “Fuck. Sorry, Buck, I…”

Buck squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Therapy is more important.”

That same night, the compliments sort of… Well, they amp up. They go from Buck being nice, to both of them being… Well, something. 

It starts innocently enough. Buck’s fault, as per usual.

“You look cozy,” Buck says as Eddie - donning an oversized sweater - flops down on the mattress to watch a show. They’re trying to catch up on old episodes of Hotshots, now that they know Bobby is going to be advising for the next season. 

Eddie looks down at the hoodie. “Oh? Uh, it’s yours.”

“Mine?” Buck asks. 

“Mine are in the laundry.” Eddie says. “Sorry, I can go home and grab more.”

“No, no, no,” Buck blurts. He doesn’t want him to stress or think he broke some sort of boundary. “You look good in my sweater.”

Eddie freezes. “I look good in your sweater?”

Fuck. Why did he say that?

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You look good in every sweater.” 

“Do I?” Eddie smirks. 

Fuck. This is a disaster. 

[ladymorghul]

not my usual type of headcanon but here goes nothing. i'm on season two of tlk just so you know where this is lowkey inspired from.

tw: op's inaccurate asoiaf politics, abusive behaviour, cliches but idgaf cuz i love many cliches. also overlords of other regions who??

did not give this a second reread yet so if there's mistakes in it i might fix it later

--

the assize at riverrun makes the blackwoods resentful of their overlords. that is blackwood land as far as they are concerned, and the decrepit lord tully cannot change what has been theirs for generations. it takes little time for the blackwoods to defy the new border and start a battle with the brackens, one that ends bloodily for both houses, but more so for the brackens as their enemy raids their two villages near the border, burning places of worship, killing men and women, and stealing from their crops.

because of this, their new lord paramount, oscar tully, barely of age (grover tully has since died, rip), summons both amos bracken and samwell blackwood to riverrun, declaring that such acts of barbarity cannot happen again. lord oscar proposes a marriage between house blackwood's heir, davos blackwood, and amos bracken's nephew, aeron bracken. both houses protest, outraged at the proposal. the blackwoods see no purpose in this marriage; it will not solve their complaints, nor will they marry their heir to the son of a second son. the brackens, on the other hand, emphasize that such a marriage will not wash away the bloodshed and that even if they were to agree to this farce of a marriage, which they will not, davos blackwood would need to come live in stone hedge, for their nephew would be merely a prisoner in raventree hall, especially with the reputation davos blackwood has.

what they don't know, of course, is that davos blackwood and aeron bracken are no strangers to each other. they met many times at the stones, since they were old enough to patrol, and have been enemies, exchanging shoves and cruel words, but the time spent at the border, time spent getting to know the supposed enemy, changed things. they have not named their relationship "a relationship" per se, but they had kissed and were meeting in secret at night sometimes. they were testing the waters and exploring this new relationship.

upon hearing about the proposal, aeron is both excited and scared. he knew he'd have to marry one day, both of them would have to marry, but marrying the person that you were falling for stirred something in his chest even if until that moment marriage was not yet a concept he entertained at all. he thought he'd have more time. on the other hand he had no idea how davos would feel about this. sure, they liked each other enough to meet in secret and fool around a little, but marriage? that was for life.

with both houses refusing the marriage proposal, oscar tully falters and the idea fails. aeron feels disappointed but there's nothing he can do. he knew his uncle would never accept such proposal, nor would the blackwoods.

his uncle eventually tells him he'll marry into a different, random house, (have not yet decided which) and although frustrated and sad, aeron doesn't make much of a fuss because he knew it would eventually happen, he knew it was his duty as was everyone else's. but the more he thinks of how far away he'll be from home, from his friends, his family and well, davos, the more it eats at him. he accepts it, but he tries to meet davos one last time. davos never shows and they don't see each other before aeron leaves.

the problem is though, although sweet and polite on sight, the son of the house he's marrying is an actual nightmare. it starts small, with controlling what aeron can and can't do, and as the months go by, with aeron's defiant nature, everything turns worse, especially when his husband's parents die and he becomes lord. because aeron refuses to have anything to do with his husband at all, and has grown lowkey desperate with no allies in this keep, and has started responding back w as much strength as he could, his husband the lord makes him sleep in a cell with the dogs, dogs who overtime become attached to him and basically see him as their master. it helps aeron in a way, as now his husband refuses to even get close to the bars of his cell, but he's still locked up losing his mind. he hadn't been in sunshine for quite a while, hadn't seen his horse let alone ride it in a long time, hadn't had any practice, he was still a knight in his heart. he hadn't even seen a friendly face in so long. he felt like he was losing his sanity with each passing day. from his life in the riverlands to this? he could not live like this. but neither would he give in.

meanwhile in the riverlands, rumors of his treatment are reaching amos' ears. and davos' ears too. samwell blackwood died recently and davos is now lord, feeling both overwhelmed and lonely in his job. he has never forgotten aeron and what they had and had yet to still take a husband or a wife.

with these disturbing rumors reaching amos, amos sends raven after raven to the other house demanding answers but he's met with slightly polite yet short answers denying. the last raven is what sets amos off. the lord of whatever basically tells him that aeron is a married man now and all these accussations and worrying are for nothing. and that aeron is badly behaved as it is so the brackens should be thankful he did them the service of marrying such a man.

through this, the lord of whatever makes it known that he also refuses to grant aeron leave to visit or write to his family at all.

amos is, safe to say, angry. when he realizes aeron is basically a prisoner, much of what he feared would happen if he was married to davos blackwood all these months back, he decides to gather a small army and march on this house. he announces that any man able and willing to fight if it shall ever come to that, should join this march. that an insult to a man of house bracken, his nephew, is an insult to all rivermen. a few mallisters join, a few darry men and women too, a bit from all houses except, of course, the blackwoods.

but before amos can leave with his small army to march on this man keeping his nephew captive, he sees a small group of blackwoods crossing the boundary stones and approaching him and his men. they have with them a woman too, sporting a bow and arrows, looking fierce. at the head of it none other than davos blackwood.

"this is bracken land." amos says, but it's flat and devoid of any of the usual fire or anger.

davos almost smiles.

"we're here to join your march."

"you?" amos looks between them, like he can hardly believe they would.

"we are rivermen and women too aren't we?"

with that amos looks at them for a long time but eventually nods and gestures for them to join the rest of the people.

when davos had first heard the rumors about aeron's treatment, his gloom and heartbreak turned quickly into frustration and anger. how dare they disrespect him like this. nobody had exact details of what had happened to aeron, but he didn't deserve anything less than to be treat with the upmost respect. those vows spoken for marriage are not for nothing, whichever gods would be watching.

of course there were members of his house who strongly protested their lord just leave on a mad man's mission to save a bracken son from a foreigner house, but davos didn't want to hear any of it and although he had been overwhemed by his new responsabilities and nervous on weather he was doing a good enough job, he had found the strength to make his voice heard among his men. his decision was final.

alysanne was also not the happiest about this, but she would not undermine davos in front of the men of their house for she cared for him too much to do it publicly. nor would she leave him to go get himself killed gods know where. if your heart calls for you to go then you'll go and i'll go too, but this is stupid and unbecoming of a newly appointed lord.

in his stead, they left benji, now old enough to act as regent to davos, and they also left trusted men to guide him.

the march was long and not easy, they were not used to this type of long march, but shockingly, davos and amos were slowly forging a bond on their way there. amos was slowly realizing just how much davos blackwood cared about his nephew, that against the word of his house, and as a new, young lord, he'd leave his duties to march so far away for a bracken man. as they grew closer, tolerating each other better, dots were connecting in amos' head and he was beginning to understand with regret that his decisions contributed to aeron's situation.

as they were approaching whatever house, they realized a fight might have to happen when lord whatever sent some men to foolishly attack and immediately die at the hand of amos' small army.

there wasn't much of a fight. lord whatever was a proud man with no knowledge of battle and too few men. they fought but it didn't take much for amos' army to breach the keep and move the fight within.

davos fought in a fury, striking down every man in his path, and amos even saved his ass from being hit head on by a morningstar.

aeron in his cell was hearing the sounds of battle, sounds he hadn't heard since the burning mill, and in his daze, in his madness he stood up on weak knees to hear better, the dogs stirring up from their sleep to gather around him. then lord whatever came down to the cells with a couple of men. he ordered one man to open aeron's cell but all of them feared those "savage" dogs, including lord whatever. one of the men eventually opened the cell. he was also told to to grab aeron so that they can flee to their overlords house for safety. aeron looked between them, a warning with no words, and when the guard, after hesitating, attempted to grab aeron, one of the dogs immediately made for his hand. the rest soon followed, as packs do, and the rest of the guards stepped back, almost fleeing as they watched in horror. once they were done with the guard, aeron turned his attention on the man who had tortured him for the past months. he tried to reason with aeron, telling him savages had come to attack them, that they need to flee, but aeron was too lost in his hatred and rage and dispair to care.

"kill" was all he said and the dogs launched themselves at his lord husband, tearing him apart and making the rest of the guards flee.

when the lord commander of house whatever's forces saw through a window what had occured, he called for a stop to the fight. his lord was dead, many men had died, and there was no victory in sight so this was useless.

amos accepted, he had not actually come to shed blood from the get go, and he told his men to lay down their swords and hoard the remaining men of house whatever into a single place, taking their weapons.

it was then that aeron emerged from one of the entries of the keep, barefoot and dirty, but stil strong enough to walk on his own. the sun bothered his eyes and he cringed as he tried to make out the people before him. his dogs huddled close to him, excited and on edge because of the commotion.

when his eyes laid on his uncle, he took a deep breath, almost like he was breathing for the first time in months, and almost thought he was hallucinating it. time stood still and the world was spinning and he looked around to take in the bloodshed. he was saved. was he saved? what did that mean anymore? his eyes then landed on a bloodied davos who seemed almost as shocked as aeron when their gazes met. it was then that aeron could feel tears forming in his eyes and he was suddenly very aware of the state of him and everything he'd been through.

"you left me," he said to davos but then quickly looked at his uncle, both speechless, "you sent me away and you left me here to rot." he looked again at davos, anger and heartbreak and defeat evident in his voice and on his face. he didn't care anymore that he looked like a mad man to everyone watching.

"aeron," davos spoke first, taking a small step.

"you didn't want to marry me, you never came back for me," he said, anger overtaking all other emotions, "and you," he turned to his uncle, "you sent me away from the riverlands to a cruel man. for nothing."

feeling that aeron was angry and on edge, the dogs around him started to growl and snarl at them, especially when they tried to take a step closer to aeron. everything amos was trying to say was falling on deaf ears.

"maybe i should let them kill you like they did my lord husband." aeron almost whispered, looking from davos to amos, but as he saw their faces, full of worry and heartbreak, he faltered and looked down at himself and his hands, becoming more aware of the state he was in.

eventually he relaxed a bit, the emotion draining him of whatever energy he had left after so much time spent in a cell, and he swayed a little on his legs before turning around and walking back inside. he was by the entrance when he almost lost his balance but a heavy hand caught him in time. there was growling from the dogs but when aeron looked up he saw davos at his side, unafraid. aeron shook davos off gently and placed his hand on top of one of the dogs' heads and they all settled as he walked inside.

THE END

no. of course there is more to this story. more about healing, about forgiveness and who knows, if davos has any game, maybe a rekindling, maybe even an unlikely marriage, but there's quite a long way to that and this is all i have.

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

I've never really used tumblr as a ranting ground except the times that I did - out of which 50% of them have been swiftly deleted - but at this point, I do not have the mental coherence to care. So, that's future me's problem.

Life doesn't seem to get better. This isn't a 'oh, you're just having a bad day' rant, this is I've been having a fucked up time since Covid hit and it feels like everyone has figured out how to get out of the mental fog but I'm still stuck in the pandemic and I can't figure out how to open the fucking door, or window or just anything and get out of it.

None of the good moments seem warm enough to soothe the aches of the literal half decade (and doesn't that fuck me up? five years have passed, surely, surely, this is enough time for me to get fixed up?). It's like trying to cast a patronus but not having a happy enough memory.

And then this year hit like a bullet train. My grandfather died in a hit and run. My health has worsened. My family, that had been cracking for years, is exploding and breaking further, like some skewed up version of fireworks. My grades have worsened and so has my mental health. I've never felt more tired. I've lost so many friends and haven't been able to make more. I feel like a hollow version of myself, all the fucked up parts making up the current me. And when I look at myself years ago, it feels like a completely different person.

And nothing seems to be making it better. Talking with friends is alright, but it makes you feel better for a moment and then it crumbles again. Family moments are the sweetest things until they're not and you feel like a fool for hoping. My brain seems slower by the second and bones more brittle. My knees hurt and my collarbones ache and my ankles throb with stored anger - and nothing seems to be getting better.

Reading fanfiction helps but then sometimes you're just clicking through multiple fics with tears of frustration because nothing seems to give you reprieve. And listening to music helps until you're frantically scrolling through your playlist and realizing that there's really nothing that's helping. And watching youtube helps - and it does - because the people you watch have had a similar fucked up year and it feels like you're on the same boat for once but you're not, are you? Because your life was fucked up before this year, it's just gotten worse.

I'm just tired. There's no other way to put it. Burnout turns into constant exhaustion and that turns into heavy bones and heavier hearts and mind fog and loneliness that never goes away. And then that turns into bitterness and jealously and rage and apathy and this emotional pendulum that you can never figure out.

And I honestly just want to know if it gets better. I want something to look forward to, because so far, there's been nothing to hold on to.

[miasmaghoul]

I just, I don't even know what to say

W O W

Ok, serious chat for a moment. Warnings for mentions of an ED and medical mistreatment.

It's so frustrating to still see shit like this when I grew up in the days of fat free everything and Weight Watchers ads every 5 minutes on TV.

Why is it fat people that everyone agrees to dogpile on? We're bullied incessantly for something that a lot of us can't even fix or help, because people who AREN'T fat assume we're just lazy pigs. Like yeah, please just disregard my physical debility and MULTIPLE hormonal issues and just assume that I just shovel food into my mouth constantly. Oh, you say I can't have an eating disorder because I'm fat and "those people" are skinny? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU!

It's bullshit, full stop. I still struggle with my ED, but the older I've gotten the more open and honest with myself I've become. I've never sought treatment for it because, again, I'm still fat. The one time I did bring it up to a doctor, he said "well if you do have an eating disorder then you aren't doing a very good job." I wish I were making that up.

Fat is in my genes, and there are so many other contributing factors it isn't even funny. It's so pounded into our heads that we NEED to be thin (mostly targeting women, let's be real) in order to have value, and I'm so fuckin sick of still hearing about the latest severely unhealthy fad diet or what fucking celebrity is on ozempic.

Which, by the way, I did have pushed on me a couple years ago when regular people could still get their hands on it. It made me feel so much worse. Every dose would trigger a binge, and I would feel horrible for days afterwards. I told my doctor (different from the other one I mentioned) this, and she told me that it was just something I was going to have to deal with because look, you've lost 20lbs since your last visit!

I felt worse than I had in YEARS, but it didn't matter because my body was becoming more socially acceptable. Do you want to know how many times doctors have tried to shove weight loss surgery down my throat? Countless. No matter how many times I say I'm not even there to talk about my weight, and that those surgeries are NOT for me, someone always brings it up. It's crazy how hurtful being ignored for knowing your own body is, because someone else thinks you need to change.

I wish this was something I had figured out when I was younger, but alas. I wore a hoodie over my clothes for 6 years straight, regardless of how hot it was outside, just to try to hide. I made myself miserable, ate barely anything (which would just trigger a binge, of course) and had it beat into my head constantly that my weight was the most important thing about me.

Here's the thing it took me way too long to learn:

IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER

You know what the number on the scale is? It's just a number. Your weight, high or low, is simply a tiny part of who you are as a human. If others choose to judge you based on it, that's not a failure on your part. It's on theirs. Being fat is not a crime, nor is it deserving of the insults and sneers we get in public spaces. People will always find a reason to stare, to whisper and giggle, and the best thing you can do for yourself is not give them the time of day.

I realize that's not easy. It's taken me 30+ years to reach a point where I've realized that going out in public is a necessity, and that the only reason I think people are staring at me is because advertisements like this punched the concept into my fragile little mind as a kid. At the end of the day, this is the one thing all fat people need to know:

Being fat is not a moral failure.

There is nothing wrong with you just because you need bigger clothes, mobility aids, or help from others. I don't care what anyone says - your weight is no one's business but your own. You want to lose weight? Go for it! More power to you, you'll get nothing but support from me. But there's nothing wrong with not wanting to do that either. That's really what it comes down to - the assumption that there's something inherently wrong with us because we're bigger than other people.

That's the part that needs to stop. And if anyone ever needs a reminder, my asks are always open. You're beautiful, I promise. 💜

Thank you for coming to my TED talk lmao

(I'm sure some asshole anons will come at me for "glorifying obesity" or "promoting unhealthy lifestyles". I assure you I am not. I am simply trying to help normalize a different mindset. If you're upset that fat people exist and that I'm saying they deserve the same care and compassion as anybody else, then you need to do a little bit of internal examination there. I promise fat people have not hurt you by virtue of existing in larger bodies ♡)

[thelostmagicians]

Delicate | Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie Munson's reputation has never been worse, but you must like him for him. [2.8k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, sad boy Eddie

♡

This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me

Eddie’s always had a bad reputation, in high school he was known as The Freak, which soon morphed into Devil Worshipper, but the worst label he’s had so far had to be Murderer. It’s been almost a year since he’s been cleared for the murders of Vecna’s victims, but Hawkins has yet to move past it and believe in his innocence. 

His friends stay strong by his side and even Hopper has a soft spot for him now, but it still isn’t easy. He’s taunted and harassed relentlessly, everywhere he goes, fired from jobs, rejected by girls, and his once dream of going on tour with Corroded Coffin squashed when he lost their slot at the Hideout. Some days, he thinks about packing it all up and moving away, leaving behind his past and the trauma, but he wants to be strong. He wants to show people that their words can’t break him any more than the Upside Down already has. He’s made peace with the fact that his reputation will never change and that he’ll lead a despairing life in Hawkins, but at least he’ll do it with pride. 

-

The first time Eddie sees you, it’s storming outside. Wayne is getting ready to close the garage while he’s checking the register. He sees you running towards, your worn out purse doing nothing to cover you from the pouring rain. Your shoes squeak as Wayne ushers you in, gently pushing you to stand near the heaters.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s closing, but I just moved here and my car keeps making this weird noise, and tomorrow is my first day of work and I don’t want anything to go wrong and…” you keep rambling, frustration seeping through your words.

“Take a breath darlin’, you’re okay,” Wayne reassures.

You nod, hands clutching your bag as you take deep breaths. Wayne’s gaze meets Eddie over your shoulder as he gestures at him to bring the office chair around. Eddie grimaces when the chair squeaks against the tile floor, hoping you won’t notice, but his wish goes ignored when you meet his eyes. 

One look into your eyes and he’s a goner, his heart fights to jump out of his chest, his hands clam up on the chair, and he forgets how to breathe. You shoot him a soft smile and he nearly topples over, legs having a mind of their own. He hurriedly drags the chair near you while Wayne gestures for you to sit. 

“What’d you say was wrong with your car?” Wayne’s voice breaks Eddie out of his trance and the smirk he gets tells him Wayne knows more than he lets on. 

“I’m not really sure, it just makes a chggg… chggg…” you trail off, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

Eddie chuckles under his breath, god you were so fucking cute. 

“What time does your work start tomorrow?”

“nine a.m.,” your eyes light up with hope at Wayne’s question. 

“We’ll have it done by eight, you can come pick it up then. Do you need a ride back here?”

“Oh no, It’s only a five minute walk away from my place. I’ll be okay, thanks.” You glance out the door, the storm barely visible now, you thank both of them profusely rushing out the door, squealing with giddiness when you think they can’t see you anymore. 

“That was awfully nice of you,” Eddie accuses. 

“Yeah it was… only for my favorite nephew though.”

 “I’m your only nephew,” Eddie huffs, “Still didn’t think you would volunteer to work late because I have a crush.” 

Wayne smirks at Eddie’s admittance, “I didn’t. Have fun working and don’t forget to double check the doors before you leave.” He shrugs on his leather jacket, bustling through the front door, leaving a very confused Eddie in the lobby. 

_

Eddie stays up until three in the morning, fixing everything wrong with your car. He goes home sluggish, but doesn’t forget to set an alarm for seven, so he won’t miss you when you come to pick up. 

He’s awakened by a loud pounding at his door, instead of the shrill of his alarm. He trips over clothes as he shuffles out of bed, grabbing his old hellfire t-shirt before swinging open the trailer door. 

Wayne’s frantic face appears before him, hands grabbing his shoulders and checking him over, while repeatedly asking if he was okay. Eddie runs his hands through his hair finally fully waking up at Wayne’s distraught voice, “Wha’s going on, somethin’ happen?”

Wayne’s eyes turn dark, “The shop… someone came over and…”

Eddie doesn’t let Wayne finish before he’s grabbing his jeans and shoes and running towards the building. He can spot the words from nearly a mile away, crimson paint making it unmissable. Murderer covers the entire side of the building, the dripping of the paint being a near perfect replication of blood, the windows are smeared with the same paint, handprints accompanying the paint strokes. The sight itself was gruesome and cruel, the situation wasn’t anything new to Eddie or even Wayne, but it was still distressing when it happened. It was the same viscous cycle over and over again, Eddie and Wayne reporting the incident to Hopper, who would then catch the perps, but release them just as fast because he had no power against the rich of Hawkins, and then Eddie and his friends would spend the next few days helping Wayne scrubbing down the shop. This has happened so many times that Eddie doesn’t even flinch anymore, but today was different, you’re coming in to pick up your car in under an hour and he doesn’t think he can get the shop cleaned up by then. A disgruntled sigh leaves his lips as he grabs the nearby mop and bucket to start scrubbing. 

-

Time passes by quickly, Eddie’s arms sore from tirelessly scouring, but he isn’t even a fourth of the way done. Just as he’s about to head in for a quick water break, he spots you flitting over in your pretty blouse and flouncy skirt. You reach his side before he can hide and he busies himself with wiping off the red paint on his jeans.  

“What happened here?” Your soft voice sets his heart aflame and he tries to think of any excuse to explain all this away, but his mushy brain forces him to tell you the truth.

“I-I don’t really have the best reputation in Hawkins and people are… um v-very keen on reminding me of that,” he stammers. 

You glance up at the wall, the r at the end of murderer being the only thing that’s almost gone. Wayne was able to spray down the windows with the hose, but some of the handprints remained stubborn, similar to the scars he’ll never heal from the night he saw Chrissy die. You frown looking at the mess and Eddie feels like he’s suffocating, your silence heavy in the air, filling his mind with intrusive thoughts of despair. 

“Your car’s ready by the way, it shouldn’ give you anymo’ trouble,” he whispers.

You nod and head inside, returning momentarily with jingling keys. “Wayne said you stayed back late to work on my car, thank you.”

He shrugs, “It’s no problem.”

He’s expecting another awkward silence, but you surprise him, “Do you need help? I mean I can’t help right now because I have work… but I can come back after and help you out.”

“You want to help me? Did you not see the murderer written across the walls?”

“I did. I just don’t believe you’re as good of a murderer as Hawkins thinks considering I’m still alive.”

Eddie laughs loudly, head thrown back, brown curls flying on his face. “I don’t know I did work on your car, so maybe I’m trying new methods, you know, straying away from the usual stabbing.”

You smile at him before getting in your car, you roll your windows down as you back out, yelling out, “I’ll be here at five!”

-

We can't make any promises, now can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

You stayed late that night, helping him until Wayne’s shop glittered clean, what would have taken him a few days to finish, only took him a few hours. It felt like everything was easy when you were next to him, your presence alone giving him a new outlook on life. He talked to you for hours and hours, words flowing out like quick sand, sharing every thought and experience and you were no different mouth moving a mile a minute, eager to learn about him, but also teach him about you. 

Although you exchanged numbers before parting ways, you hadn’t had the chance to give him a call, work and a new environment getting in the way. Eddie on the other hand found excuses to not call you in fear of what you might say. Maybe you only gave him your number to be nice, or you hadn’t called him yet because people’s opinions on him finally got to you, or maybe you just didn’t like him. He knew the excuses were a shield to protect his heart, but no matter how many times he tried he could never find the courage to dial your full number, always stopping before the last digit and hanging up. 

-

He’s genuinely surprised when you walk into the Hideout at 2 a.m. on a Thursday morning. You look rundown and tired, but your eyes light up when you see him, smiling so bright it blinds him momentarily. 

“H-hi.”

“Hey, Eddie. I didn’t know you worked here.” That was a lie. You knew he worked here once your co-worker let it slip that she avoided the Hideout because of Eddie. You started frequenting the bar almost every night hoping to catch a glimpse of him, until finally one of the other bartenders showed mercy and told you the time for his next shift.

“Yeah, I work the dead shifts, when people really aren’t around,” he looks down sadly, busying himself with dirty scotch glasses. 

You smile softly, hand reaching to squeeze his, “You’re not who people say you are, I hope you know that.”

His neck heats up, blush blossoming its way towards his cheeks, “you know I never thanked you properly for that night, helping me out with cleaning the shop.”

“How about you make me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

-

Sometimes I wonder; when you sleep, are you ever dreaming of me? Sometimes when I look into your eyes...I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

Nowadays, instead of nightmares keeping Eddie awake it's you. You're always in his dreams, keeping the bad memories at bay with your sweetness. Sometimes he dreams of the day you first met, but most nights he dreams of a future together. He isn’t brave enough to ask you out, but he can feel his heart get stronger and stronger the more time he spends with you, the usual taunts and threats being easily brushed off now instead of sticking to him like honey. He doesn’t know what a future with you looks like, but he hopes it’ll always feel like this, safe, happy, and serene. He dreams of holding your hand, whisking you away on dates, and charming you until your heart gives out and you finally shut him up with a kiss. Waking up from a dream about you is more painful than waking up from a nightmare, knowing that everything he dreams to have with you can only be achieved when he’s asleep.

_

You wake up everyday eager for nightfall so you can see Eddie in your dreams. It hasn’t been long since your first meeting, but you’re addicted to him, his laugh, hair, charm, wit, everything and anything about Eddie is your favorite thing in the world. You feel at peace just thinking about him and you’re eagerly counting down the minutes for when you can see him next. You dream about lying in bed with him, waking up late, cooking breakfast, doing laundry, all the chores you hate doing, but you want it all with him, even the boring-ness of life. You have to set your alarm an hour early now, otherwise you’ll keep snoozing it just to bask in your dreams longer and soak up as much Eddie as you can before facing the reality of him not being yours. 

-

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate  Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

You and Eddie hang out almost everyday now, whether it’s an early morning at the hideout or late nights in his trailer, you talk about anything and everything, conversation flowing easy and warm. He looks happier than he did the day you met him, almost boyish and young, eyes full with hope. You hope it stays that way. 

You feel different too, lighter on your feet, a smile permanently etched on your face, and love blossoming in your heart. You know you have feelings for Eddie, strong ones at that and you know he feels something for you too, but you see the hesitance in his eyes almost like he’s scared to believe you’re real. Every time you reach for his hand he pulls back, fearful his touch might burn you, he shuffles farther away from you when he sees a passerby hoping to save you from the ridicule that accompanies him. You’ve told him you don’t care what others think, but he thinks it’s too good to be true, which is why, today, you decide you’re going to sweep Eddie Munson off his feet. 

Your first stop is flowers. Eddie has never said anything about his favorite flower, but you think sunflowers are the most fitting for the boy who warms your heart. You stop by Benny's for his usual order before heading to his trailer, your palms sweat and your knees shake, walking the short distance from your car to his front door seems like a battle, your heart as heavy as the bags you're carrying in. You're nervous, sure, you're pretty confident that he likes you like that, but change is still nerve wrecking, even if it can be good. You knock fast and loud before you lose your courage, part of you hoping he doesn't open so you can go back to wallowing, but another part, a bigger part, of you is giddy with anticipation. 

He swings open the door, sweats hanging almost too low, and an old band t-shirt falling off his shoulder thanks to the stretched out collar. 

"Hey, sweetheart. What brings you here?"

The speech you had prepared vanishes, mind becoming blank as his stare looms over your face, you act before you speak, hands shoving the sunflowers roughly in his chest. "These are for you. I didn't know your favorite flower, but I thought you'd like sunflowers... 'cause, well... you're my sun, I guess." You shyly meet his gaze.

His eyes are tender, oozing love, but it's his tone that makes your heart plummet. "Sweetheart, this is nice 'n all, but we... you and I can never work. You don't wanna be with someone like me."

You sigh, dropping the Benny's takeout on the floor, you reach out and let your fingers brush back his curls, and then slowly trace down his forehead to his cheeks, then lips. He sighs softly, eyes closing as the ache in his heart is replaced with bliss, your fingers stop at his chin gently cradling it, encouraging him to meet your eyes. 

"Eddie, I don't care what people think.. or say.. or do. All I know is that I'm my best when I'm with you, you make me feel alive and safe. I like you for you. If I make you even half as happy as you make me, then..."

He chokes back a sob, bringing you chest to chest forcing you to share the same breath of air. "I'm my best when I'm with you too. You've changed my life for the better, you're my first thought in the morning and my last one at night."

You laugh through your tears bringing his face close to yours hoping you can finally taste the lips you've dreamed of, but he beats you to it, pressing his lips to yours, giving you a kiss as soft and tender as him. 

Eddie‘s delicate heart finally mending with your love.

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of MHA 2024 Day 3 - Another cup

Shouta watches how Shinsou's eyes lose focus again. It's only for a split moment but it happens every other minute and Shouta suppresses a sigh. It's more than apparent that Shinsou is beyond tired and Shouta doesn't even need the eyebags to know that, even though they are more pronounced than usual.

He has half a mind to call training off, if only to make sure that Shinsou doesn't make mistakes that will only frustrate him, but Shouta has been training with Shinsou for long enough to know that calling an end to training early will only stress the kid out.

So something else needs to be done.

With Shinsou, it's always best to not beat around the bush, even if the topic of choice will make him clam up on Shouta, but at least he won't throw the kid into a worry spiral if he acts unusually, so Shouta fixes him with a look.

"What's wrong with you today?" he bluntly asks and watches how Shinsou stumbles in his surprise.

It's just another testament to how tired he must be because they are long past that stage normally.

"Nothing is wrong," Shinsou says, just a beat too slow and Shouta glares some more. "I'm just tired."

Shinsou always claims he's tired, but it seems worse today.

"Did you not get enough sleep?" Shouta asks even though he knows the answer. The eyebags Shinsou sports are not a fashion choice after all.

"I never do. Insomnia, you know," Shinsou shrugs and Shouta takes the tiny opening.

"Are your parents doing anything about that? Have you seen some doctors? Is there medication you can take?" Shouta wants to know and he sees the moment Shinsou shuts down on him.

It's always dangerous to ask after his parents, Shouta has come to learn, but he never gives up. Shouta doesn't think that Shinsou is being physically abused at home, because he never spots any injuries on him and so far Shinsou hasn't hit him with the "I bumped into the doorway" excuse but something isn't right in the kid's home regardless.

Shouta just can't put his finger to it and as long as Shinsou doesn't talk to him there's little he can do.

"It's fine," Shinsou mutters, angling himself away from Shouta. "I'm handling it."

'I'm handling it'. Not 'My parents are handling it' or even 'we'.

Shouta lets out a long sigh, which makes Shinsou draw his shoulders up as if he's bracing for something but Shouta only holds out his hand.

"Give me your phone," he says and then patiently waits until Shinsou gets moving.

Shouta carefully keeps his face blank when Shinsou puts a cracked phone into his hand and he makes quick work of putting his number and address in.

"That's my number and my home address. I want you to call or write whenever you want, but especially when you think you're in danger. And the address is there for you to use it. You can come by whenever, the time of day or night doesn't matter. If we're not here at school at least one of us is at home, so we'll be able to let you in."

Shinsou's eyes have gone bigger the longer Shouta talks and the naked hope in Shinsou's eyes makes his chest hurt.

"We?" Shinsou asks after a long moment and Shouta hands the phone back.

"Hizashi and me. You know I'm married to Present Mic, right?"

It's something of an open secret, at least here at the school, and his hellion class had them figured out mere days into the school year, which earned them extra points. Shouta's last class didn't know about their marriage until graduation and that was just unacceptable.

"I—did not," Shinsou admits and Shouta wonders if he ever talks to anyone else at the school, if he even has friends. He's never asked but given how Shinsou acts with him he doubts it.

"Is that a problem?" Shouta raises an eyebrow at Shinsou, genuinely curious because the kid seems shocked but Shinsou must misinterpret his expression because he goes pale before he falls all over himself, trying to reassure Shouta.

"No! Of course not, no that's fine, it's just—"

"It's just what?" Shouta prompts him when he takes too long to finish his sentence.

"Surprising, is all. I didn't peg you for a guy to marry and not someone like Present Mic."

"What is that supposed to mean. Someone like Present Mic?"

Shouta can't help the sharp tone to his voice; he always gets defensive when someone insinuates that his husband isn't a good hero, is a bit stupid, and airheaded and even with Shinsou, he gets protective.

"He's just so—loud," Shinsou mutters, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground. "And in the spotlight."

"Hero lesson 101," Shouta says, making a conscious effort to gentle his voice. "Some heroes adopt a persona and then embody that persona until they clock off, so to speak. I know your only real contact with a hero is me, so far, and I'm on the opposite spectrum of that, but don't always take everything at face value. Present Mic is the hero. Yamada Hizashi is the man. Once you're in the business for longer you'll know how to spot the signs and it's an important skill to learn."

"I'm sorry," Shinsou mutters and Shouta puts a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

"Don't be. Like I said, it's a skill you've yet to learn. Just employ some critical thinking when you encounter any heroes." He waits for Shinsou to nod before he takes his hand back. "Now, my offer still stands. No matter what time of day, you're always allowed to text, call or drop by. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Shinsou whispers, clutching his phone tight as if it could slip through his fingers at any moment.

Shouta doubts Shinsou is going to pick him up on the offer any time soon, but at least it's out there now. Shouta breathes a little bit easier, knowing that Shinsou has a way to contact him now, should anything at home be wrong.

And for now, it'll have to be enough.

~*~*~

It starts slow.

Shinsou messages him when he can't make it to school or training, when the trains are delayed due to a villain attack. When Shouta drops that he adores cats almost more than he does his husband, Shinsou starts sending him pictures of stray cats he apparently feeds and it's something they talk about a lot.

Shouta makes sure to always answer the kid, even if it's just a simple 'Okay' but he never lets a message go unanswered, not if he can help it.

Once, he couldn't answer because he was in the middle of a fight during patrol and the next day Shinsou was all withdrawn and twitchy around him again, much like he used to be at the very beginning of this all and Shouta cannot have that.

So a solution is needed.

"I can't always answer you when I'm on patrol," Shouta says, two days after the unanswered text, without any preamble.

"I understand," Shinsou gives back, not meeting his eyes and Shouta fears that he very much does not understand.

"I also can't give you my patrol schedule, for security reasons," Shouta goes on. "What I can do, is create a chat with you, me and Hizashi, so that one of us can always answer."

"I wouldn't want to be a bother," Shinsou mutters out and Shouta suppresses a sigh.

"If you were a bother, I wouldn't offer it. If you're worried about bothering Hizashi, don't be, you know he likes you. It was actually his idea."

It wasn't, because Hizashi doesn't even know about this yet, but Shouta doubts he's going to mind, seeing as he was the one who insisted on cleaning out the spare room in case Shinsou ever wants or needs to stay the night.

Shinsou looks decidedly unconvinced and Shouta gets out his phone.

"Want me to prove it?"

Shinsou presses his lips together but Shouta sees the minute jerk of his head, so he dials Hizashi and puts him on speaker.

He's not worried about it, because after being married for so long, he knows how to convey to Hizashi to play along.

"Shou, what's up? Aren't you still training with the kiddo? Everything alright?"

"I am, he's here. Remember that talk we had about that unanswered text and what you proposed?" Shouta asks and at least that's not a lie, because they did talk about it.

Shouta was too frustrated by the setback to not talk about it to Hizashi.

"I do. Does he not like my idea?" Hizashi asks, playing along flawlessly and Shinsou's eyes go wide.

"You truly don't mind?" he asks, shuffling closer and it pains Shouta to hear the surprise in his voice.

"I do not mind it at all, otherwise I wouldn't have brought it up. We just want you to know that we care, alright, kiddo? We're here for you."

Hizashi is really good at rolling with the punches, Shouta will have to thank him for it later, and Shinsou's face lights up before he schools it back into his usual disinterested mask.

"Thank you," he mutters and steps back again, giving Shouta some space.

"Alright, thanks for clearing that up, I'll go ahead and create that group then," Shouta says and after an enthusiastic 'Hell yeah' from Hizashi he hangs up, only to immediately make a group with Hizashi and Shinsou. "There. If you message us here and one of us is on patrol or can't reply otherwise, the other one will answer, promise. And don't ever think you'll be a bother, Hizashi loves cats too, even though he tries to hide it. Keep sending pics of those strays and he'll want to adopt all of them."

"Would you let him?" Shinsou asks and Shouta gives him a look.

"We have three cats at home and I didn't get to pick any of them," he simply says and watches a smile slowly bloom up on Shinsou's face.

"Okay," he then softly agrees and Shouta calls it a win.

~*~*~

Around a week or so after creating the group chat, Shinsou comes by their apartment for the first time. He asked if he could see their cats and while Shouta would have only sent him some pics—which he still does—Hizashi immediately invites him over, because 'Cuddling them is better than just seeing pics' and Shouta commends him for his quick thinking.

After that, Shinsou does drop by every now and then. They get him to stay for an hour or two, a cup of coffee or tea sometimes but it's as if the kid has an internal alarm. After two and a half hours tops he'll slink out the door as if Shouta and Hizashi would kick him out if he stays even a second longer.

Very rarely they get him to stay for even past that; it involves Shouta distracting the hell out of the kid while Hizashi cooks something and then puts it down in front of Shinsou before the kid can protest.

He's too polite to decline then, so he stays until the food is gone.

Once they got him by making his favourite which he offhandedly mentioned a while ago but when Shinsou realised that he got real quiet around them, not letting slip any personal information anymore, and so Shouta and Hizashi haven't tried that again.

Shouta just hopes that whatever Shinsou is looking for when he comes to them is something they actually give him because Shouta has no idea how they are going to make the kid stay otherwise.

~*~*~

Shouta has his mind made up. He will go and pay a visit to the kid and Shouta refuses to be called a worry-wart over it. Shinsou hasn't been to school or training. He hasn't contacted Shouta, or Hizashi, or the group chat, or the school, Shinsou's phone is off and his parents can't be reached.

There is cause to worry and Shouta will figure out where his student vanished to.

Except when he comes home, Shinsou is slumped against the front door.

Shouta's gut lurches with worry and he hurries to Shinsou's side, crouching down and carefully touching a hand to his knee, cautious of possibly aggravating any possible injuries he might have.

"Shinsou? Kid, can you hear me?" he gently asks and forces himself to be calm and composed and not panic.

He doesn't yet know if there is cause to panic.

"Aizawa?" Shinsou mumbles, lifting his head and the rush of relief almost makes Shouta dizzy.

Shinsou's eyes are glassy, there's a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his skin and his breath rattles in his chest.

Shinsou is most definitely sick. Which isn't great but it's leagues better than critically injured, so Shouta will take what he can get.

"It's alright, kid, I've got you," Shouta promises him and lifts him up, his grip tight on Shinsou when he starts to sway on the spot.

Shouta gets the door open and they are not even halfway inside when Hizashi calls out to him.

"Did you reach the kiddo?" he asks, moments before he rounds the corner and his eyes go wide with worry.

"He's sick," Shouta reassures him immediately. "He was slumped against the front door."

"I knew I should have checked out that noise, goddamit," Hizashi mutters and comes closer to take Shinsou off Shouta. "Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?" he softly asks and Shinsou groans, which probably sums up his general state pretty well. "Alright, off to bed you go. Shou, we should still have some of that cold medicine laying around and bring the thermometer as well," Hizashi instructs him as he hauls Shinsou off to the guest room.

Shouta does as told and soon enough Shinsou is tucked in, medicated and fast asleep in bed.

"His parents?" Hizashi asks as they look at the sleeping boy but Shouta shakes his head.

"Can't be reached. We'll just—have to wait and see."

"Shou, that's just not right," Hizashi hisses out and Shouta nods.

"I know. But this is something. It finally gives us something to work with. And he came here, Hizashi, he came to us. That's all we wanted. He trusts us."

"I just hope it's enough," Hizashi mutters and then walks away, probably to stress-cook a hearty soup.

It'll do the kid some good once he wakes up.

~*~*~

It takes two days for Shinsou's fever to go down. Two days he spends in the guest bedroom, with Shouta and Hizashi fretting over him.

It seems he's not quite lucid enough to know where he is, not always at least, but one of them is always there, always ready to reassure the kid when he has one of his moments.

During all of that, Shinsou's parents can't be reached and they don't contact the school either, to ask about the whereabouts of their son. On day two Shouta contacts Tsukauchi, to ask if anyone has reported Shinsou as missing, but even that comes up empty and Shouta and Hizashi burn with incandescent rage at the fact that apparently Shinsou's parents care so little about their son that even a two day absence from his home goes by unnoticed.

It's something they need to bring up with Shinsou but they wait until his fever has broken and his breath comes easy again.

"I'm sorry," is the first coherent sentence that leaves his mouth and of course Shouta and Hizashi are not having it.

"Don't be," Hizashi says as he pushes Shinsou's hair out of face, in a subtle attempt to take his temperature. "We're just thankful you came to us."

"I didn't mean to be a bother, I just—didn't know where else to go," Shinsou mumbles and Hizashi and Shouta share a look.

"Good, because you haven't been a bother and we truly are thankful you came to us. That's why Shouta gave you our address in the first place. We're always here for you, kiddo."

Shinsou seems as if he's about to argue with them so Hizashi hands him a mug of tea and cuts any protest off in the process, too. Shinsou sips the tea and then eats some of the soup Shouta is so sick of by now and when he hands over the empty bowl and swings his legs out of bed Shouta and Hizashi share an alarmed look.

It seems as if Shinsou is about ready to leave and they absolutely cannot have that. They don't yet know what's going on with Shinsou's family and he's only on the mend, not completely healed by any means, so they are not going to let him leave into an unknown situation.

Hizashi takes the bowl from Shinsou, just as Shouta takes Shinsou's arm.

"You missed three days of school, kid, and I have everything here. You wanna go review it?" he asks in a desperate attempt to keep Shinsou with them for a little longer and even though Shinsou hesitates, he nods in the end.

They relocate to the living-room, where Shouta does in fact keep all the worksheets he got for Shinsou from the other teachers and Hizashi vanishes into the kitchen to make more tea as Shouta goes over some of the things Shinsou's missed.

"Have another cup," Hizashi says when he comes back and immediately shoves a mug into Shinsou's hands, not giving him time to protest.

Shinsou looks down at the mug, back up at Shouta, down at the mug again and then at Hizashi before he speaks.

"How many more cups are you going to make me drink to stop me from leaving?" he then asks and Hizashi flushes bright red, while Shouta lets out an amused huff.

"As many as it takes for you to finally accept that you're more than welcome to stay," he tells him and now it's Shinsou's turn to go red in the face, though he tries to hide it behind the steam rising from the mug, his eyes fixed on the worksheet in front of him.

"Kid, we have some questions," Shouta eventually carefully says when Shinsou stays quiet, but keeps the mug clutched in his hands and doesn't make an attempt to bolt.

"Please don't," he whispers and Shouta has half a mind to just drop it, but then they can't help him.

They need to know.

"Sorry, kiddo, but we really can't just ignore that. Don't get us wrong, we're happy you're here, we're glad and thankful you came to us and you can absolutely stay for however long you want to but. It's going on three days now and your parents haven't contacted the school, or you or the police even once and we can't contact them either. For all they know you're missing and they are not acting accordingly."

"But I'm safe here with you, why does it matter?"

"Kid, you'll always be safe with us, but you should also be safe at home. You should be able to stay at home when you're sick and have someone take care of you. But you came to us, so we have to assume that's not something that's true for you."

Shinsou closes his eyes at that and Hizashi pushes his fingers through his hair.

"Kiddo, talk to us. We can't help you if you don't talk to us."

Shinsou is completely still for a terrifying moment and then he drags in a shuddering breath as he slumps on the couch.

"I need you to not be pro heroes right now. You can't be pro heroes if I tell you this," Shinsou finally says and Shouta and Hizashi share a worried look but nod.

"Sure," Hizashi says and Aizawa adds a "Whatever you need," for good measure, too.

If this is what the kid needs from them to be able to tell them anything, then Hizashi and Shouta will be whatever he wants them to be. Even if that makes things more difficult down the road, depending on what he's about to tell them.

"My parents are—minor villains," Shinsou says, his voice barely audible in the room and Shouta works hard to hide his initial reaction. "Or maybe involved with the Yakuza at this point, I don't know. They are not—good people. My dad has a quirk that lets him influence emotions and my mom's is a suggestive quirk. She can tell you what you want to do and for a short time you're convinced you really want to do it. When—when I got my quirk they were excited, because—"

Shinsou's voice breaks but Shouta can fill in the blanks for him, at least for this.

"They thought it'd be perfect for whatever it is they do."

"Yeah," Shinsou breathes out. "They had me training it all the time, because it could be so useful to them. When I turned six, I first told them I want to be a hero and when I turned ten I refused to train with them because by then I realised that something was going on and ever since then they've been—absent." Shinsou takes a shuddering breath. "They are never home and they don't talk to me and now that I don't want to be whatever the hell it is they are, I'm just a waste of space to them. They keep the apartment, and they pay for electricity and stuff like that, but—" Shinsou trails off with a shaky shrug.

"When was the last time you saw them? Or spoke to them?" Hizashi carefully asks.

"They told me I'm no son of theirs when I got into U.A."

"That was half a year ago!"

Shinsou presses his lips together at that and Hizashi pulls him into a sideway hug.

"Kid, we can't let this slide," Shouta says as gently as he knows how to, but predictably Shinsou tenses up. "And I'm not talking about your parents' villainy. But they are your parents and while that gives them parental rights, it also means they have parental obligations and they are clearly not fulfilling them. They are supposed to care for you."

"Please, I don't want them to be arrested," Shinsou chokes out. "They might not be around but they are still my parents."

"We understand that," Hizashi reassures him, "but we also need you to be safe and cared for. So here's what we can do. Their continued absence and the fact that we couldn't reach them and they haven't reached out even though you haven't been home in three days is enough for us to take action."

"We don't have to mention what they do, we'll just stick to the neglect," Shouta says because he thinks it's important that Shinsou knows exactly what it is they are talking about. "We'll get a detective involved that we trust and Hizashi has connections with CPS. There is legitimate cause to act, which will allow the school to seize emergency custody for now."

"What does that mean?" Shinsou's voice shakes, and Shouta wishes there was a simple way to wipe all of his worries away.

"It means you're going to stay with us. As teachers at U.A. we're required to have a foster license in case anything like that ever happens."

"Does it—happen a lot?"

"Not a lot, but more often than we'd like. There's abuse and neglect, dangerous living situations and sometimes the school takes custody because the parents have to travel or are too ill to care properly for their children. You're not the first one and you won't be the last."

"Has someone stayed with you before?"

Shouta and Hizashi share a look before they answer.

"No. Shou usually expels all his students before matters like this can arise and I teach all the courses, which means I don't have a close enough bond with any of the students to warrant them to stay with us when their homeroom teachers are just as qualified."

"But—you'd—with me?"

"We want you to stay with us, yes. Of course we do, Shinsou," Hizashi immediately says and Shouta nods.

"We would be happy to have you here, more regularly and even permanently, too," he adds and while he hoped it would clear things up for Shinsou, the frown on his face only deepens.

"What do you really want?"

"Kiddo, we just—"

Hizashi suddenly falls silent, his eyes milky and unseeing and Shouta has trained long enough with Shinsou to know that he's used his quirk on Hizashi.

Shinsou's eyes dart over to him, his shoulders hunched up as if he's ready for Shouta to get mad at any moment now but Shouta knows Shinsou. He knows that Shinsou would never hurt Hizashi and chances are, the kid really needs to do whatever it is he's about to do, so for now, Shouta is more than happy to simply sit back and watch this play out.

He trusts Shinsou.

"Only tell the truth," Shinsou says, his voice coming out weak and shaky and Shouta bites back the little 'Ah' that wants to slip out.

Of course he'd need to make sure they are telling the truth. That's even less reason for him to interfere.

"Why do you want me to stay with you?" Shinsou asks and Shouta wishes this wasn't necessary, that the kid could just believe them but short of getting Tsukauchi in here, this is possibly the fastest and easiest way to convince Shinsou that they just want to help him.

"We like you. We adore you. We want to give you a safe and happy and stable home," Hizashi gives back and it sounds so wrong to hear him be this monotone.

"But—no one cares about me," Shinsou gasps out and it's not a question, so Hizashi is not going to answer, which means it's on Shouta to speak.

"We do, kid, we care so much. Just—let us, alright?"

"Will you tell the police about my parents?" he asks instead of acknowledging Shouta's words and his face falls when Hizashi answers with a "Yes."

"Kid, remember to clarify. We have to tell them because of the neglect. You need to be more specific in cases like this," Shouta reminds him, because this is still something they are working on.

Getting someone to speak while under brainwashing was already difficult enough and sometimes Shinsou forgets to pick his words carefully.

"Will you tell the police that my parents are villains?" Shinsou corrects and Hizashi's answer is immediate.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You asked us not to."

Shouta is surprised to see that this is what finally brings some tears to Shinsou's eyes and his connection to Hizashi breaks.

Shinsou shrinks in on himself again, but Hizashi only blinks and then pulls the kid into his arms.

"Thank you," Shinsou sobs out after a moment and Hizashi only hums as he holds him.

Shouta shuffles closer to put his hand to Shinsou's back and then they just hold him for a moment.

"Will you allow us to help you?" Shouta whispers and Shinsou immediately nods his head.

"Please," he gets out. "I'm so tired, tired of being all alone and coming home to an empty house and doing everything by myself."

Shouta's heart breaks for him, because no kid should have to deal with any of that but he and Hizashi will make sure that from now on Shinsou doesn't have to deal with anything on his own anymore.

If Shinsou's parents aren't going to be there for him then Hizashi and Shouta will gladly step up and give Shinsou a warm and happy home full of love.