#you could have simply not implied everything was going to be fine
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Bound by Lies
Yandere Park Sunghoon x Reader
Summary: a fake relationship between you and Park Sunghoon spirals into something much darker. What started as a harmless lie to fend off prying friends quickly turns into a suffocating trap as Sunghoon's feelings blur the lines between reality and obsession.
Word Count: 2,000 words
Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of obsession, emotional manipulation, possessiveness, and implied non-consensual behavior.
It all began with a harmless lie.
Your friends had been teasing you relentlessly about being single, so in a moment of panic, you blurted out that you were dating Park Sunghoon. It wasn’t entirely out of left field—he was the perfect candidate. With his angelic face, effortless charm, and aloof demeanor, no one would suspect a thing.
But what surprised you the most was how willingly Sunghoon played along.
“It’ll be fun,” he had said, his lips curling into a smile that made your heart skip a beat.
And it was fun at first. Sunghoon would wrap his arm around your shoulders when your friends were watching, flash you teasing winks, and even post carefully staged photos on social media. You never thought much of it—it was all pretend.
Or so you thought.
---
Now, sitting across from him in a quiet café, you could feel the weight of his gaze. Sunghoon stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin crawl.
“You don’t seem happy,” he said, his tone calm but carrying an edge you couldn’t ignore.
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile. “It’s just… this has gone on longer than I expected.”
Sunghoon set his spoon down, the clink of metal against ceramic making you flinch.
“Why does it have to end?” he asked, leaning forward. His voice was soft, but the look in his eyes was anything but.
You blinked, startled. “Because it’s not real, Sunghoon. We were just pretending, remember?”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. He simply studied you, his gaze unwavering. Then, he smiled—a small, almost pitying smile.
“Pretending,” he echoed. “Is that what you think this is?”
Your heart sank. “That’s what we agreed on.”
He tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Y/N, do you really believe that? After everything we’ve done—everything I’ve done for you?”
You froze, unsure how to respond. “Sunghoon, I—”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not loud. “Let me ask you something. Do you feel nothing when I hold your hand? When I look at you like this?”
He reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours. His touch was warm, but it sent a chill down your spine.
“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “This isn’t real.”
His eyes darkened, his hand tightening over yours. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”
You tried to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. Panic bubbled in your chest as his calm facade began to crack, revealing something far more sinister underneath.
“I’ve been by your side this whole time,” he said, his voice low and trembling with suppressed emotion. “I’ve protected you. Made you happy. And now you’re telling me it meant nothing?”
“I never said that,” you stammered, desperate to diffuse the situation.
“Then what are you saying?” he pressed, his tone sharp.
You looked away, your heart pounding. “I’m saying this was supposed to be temporary. We can’t keep pretending.”
He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Pretending? Do you really think that’s all this is to me? A game?”
Your silence only seemed to fuel his frustration. He stood abruptly, pulling you to your feet with him.
“Sunghoon, let go,” you said, panic rising in your voice.
He didn’t listen. Instead, he leaned in, his face inches from yours. “Do you think anyone else will care about you the way I do? Do you think anyone else will protect you?”
“This isn’t protection,” you snapped, tears pooling in your eyes. “This is control.”
His jaw tightened, but his grip didn’t falter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice soft but laced with danger. “I’m doing this for us, Y/N. You’re just scared. But that’s okay—I’ll help you see.”
“See what?” you asked, your voice breaking.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “That we’re meant to be together.”
---
Sunghoon led you out of the café, his hand firmly gripping yours. You looked around frantically, hoping someone would notice, would intervene. But the streets were empty, the night swallowing your cries for help.
“Where are we going?” you demanded, your voice shaking.
“Somewhere safe,” he replied simply.
“Safe for who?” you snapped.
“For you,” he said, his tone final. “I can’t trust anyone else to look after you. Not your friends, not your family. They don’t understand you like I do.”
Your breath hitched. “Sunghoon, you’re not thinking clearly. Please, just let me go.”
He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your knees weak.
“I’m thinking perfectly clearly,” he said, his voice cold. “You’re the one who doesn’t see it yet. But you will. I’ll make sure of it.”
Before you could respond, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His embrace was suffocating, his presence overwhelming.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “And I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”
You struggled against him, but it was no use. His grip was too strong, his determination unshakable.
As the night wore on, the realization sank in like a stone in your chest. This wasn’t a game to Sunghoon. It never had been.
To him, this was real.
And he was never going to let you go.
---
#yandere#yandere stories#enhypen imagines#enhypen jay#enhypen heeseung#enhypen#enha#enhypen yandere#yandere enhypen#enha x reader#enha imagines#enhypen jake#enhypen jungwon#enhypen sunoo#enhypen niki#enhypen sunghoon#enha sunghoon#park sunghoon#sunghoon#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon x reader#yanderesunghoon#yandereparksunghoon#sunghoon park
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My toxic trait as an audience member is that whenever things are about to turn out alright but get fucked up at the last minute because there needs to be another installment in the series it just pisses me the fuck off. If theres gonna be a big overarching conflict in your story don't get my hopes up with it looking like they almost fixed it and then SIKE! FIVE MORE SEASONS! Thats obnoxious. I dont know what people think it accomplishes for the story.
#this post brought to you by the season finale of wheel of time 😌#when lanfear was gonna throw the other bad guys into the ocean and then SIKE they got let out#fuck youuuuuuu why did you fake me out like that#what was the reason#you could have simply not implied everything was going to be fine#that would have cost u nothing
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So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing.
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply.
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears.
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe.
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead.
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.”
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement.
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance.
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that.
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now.
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support.
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place.
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance.
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!”
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it.
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor.
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him.
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.
Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd/reader#jason todd fanfic#jason todd fanfiction#red hood fanfic#red hood fanfiction#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction
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ELABORATE ON OBSESSED!WORSHIP THE GROUND YOU WALK ON!HOUSEHUSBAND JAKE PLEASE!!!!!! MY MIND IS GONNA EXPLODE – byeol
i'll be the husband jake plug no worries. warnings: jake is suppppppppperrrrrrrr needy omg.
It's normal, natural to him to do these things.
You're so tired after a long day, he gets it. the days feel longer to him sometimes though, despite your tired feet and aching back. You're his wife, he needs you.
So what if he's unemployed? He's employed to you. Will do anything for you. everything for you. happily and willingly, with so much love in his eyes every single fucking time he hears that lock on the door click open.
Time to reiterate. He needs you.
It's been weeks. He gets it. Stress, big promotion you're going for or something. He can't say he cares too much lately due to the neglect he's been dealing with.
After all the cleaning, he massages you, bathes you, tucks you in, kisses you gently, and doesn't dare ask for more from you. After all, you're expected to do so much, from so many people. Not him. Not ever. Until now. He's a man. For three days now he's been trying to remind you. Trying all sorts of subtle tricks. Some blatant ones too. Generous groping that goes rejected. A few heavy makeouts dwindling to a pop kiss and a tired "goodnight." More subtle ones, where he simply tries to dress well for you, clean far better than usual, make your favorite foods. He knows it's not because you don't want him but...you're so stressed. He could kill two birds with one stone if you'd just... "Baby." He had said last night, sinking under the blankets and prying your legs apart. "Just rest, this is all i need." He continued, implying that he would be perfectly happy helping you relax with some bedtime head. You had closed your legs on him, pinching your brows together with the same stressed out face. All day today, his brows have been equally knitted together. Stressed. Fucking horny. Is it cringe for him to do this? Yes. Does he care? No. Fuck no. And so, you come home just like any other day to the smell of dinner. It's sweet smelling, which is an indication that your husband wants something. Never does he serve dessert for dinner, but tonight feels like a welcome change because everything else just started not only feeling, but tasting too mundane. You were more surprised when you werent greeted by Jake at the door. He didn't take your things, or slide your jacket off of you. Which, that's fine. You don't need him to wait on you hand and foot. He just tends to like doing that for you anyway... You search in curiosity for him, following the sound of clanking pots and pans. The sound would give you a headache if it weren't for the image of him as you enter the kitchen. There he is. Hair pinned back with one of your headbands, apron on... only an apron. Cock lending quite a large tent as he turns to you. You know he's trying to smile genuinely, but you see a hint of pain behind his eyes. Desperate pain. Almost like he's begging you for something. Anything. And he is begging. Only when he drops to his knees and looks up at you with those eyes do you recognize how terribly you've been neglecting him. So much so that you didn't even let him eat you out, which wouldn't have expected anything on your part aside from an orgasm. This moment feels almost emasculating for him, you can imagine. Like you've deprived him of everything he needs from you in order to maintain order in this household. Arguably, you have deprived him. You can tell by how big his cock looks peeking from the hem of the apron, and those sad glassy eyes looking at you as if this is a last resort. "Baby, ple-" Jake starts to plead on the floor, the dessert he was cooking long forgotten. You're speechless at the image, finally feeling a tingle between your legs for the first time in months. You feel so apologetic alongside the tingle, realizing how much suffering he must have gone through to be doing this. After all, there's no way in hell you could have satiated this need within you without him. How he's managed to do it all this time is beyond you. ''Jake," You interrupt him, dropping your hands to his cheeks and tilting his face further up to you. "What do you need?" You see those glassy eyes become more tearful, probably from happiness by now. No words and no apologies need to be said at this moment. He sees your realization, and understands the lack of seeing to his needs to an extent. But this... this can't happen again. Nothing is to be said after that when Jake immediately goes for your pants, missing the taste of you so badly. He was right in knowing that even just the smell of you could satiate him. And it does, his cock heavy and leaking just from the sensation of the apron rubbing against him paired with the scent of your pussy that has been long neglected.
And he devours you, getting off at least twice there on the kitchen floor with his palm desperately working himself to each high. You could tell he didn't want you to feel like you needed to do anything for him but...let him. God, fuck, you feel so guilty.
So you make up for it. Right here, sliding down on him raw, letting the mess he's made of himself make a mess of you too.
"Baby, wait-" Jake chokes, working against his words by helping you slide down on him entirely. "Fuck, you're-"
"Shh." You sigh deeply, realizing how much you needed this too. "Just keep going," He does. Fucking you so desperately that you believe he cums in you at least twice from you adjusting alone, messing your thighs with sticky fluids, the kitchen floor, and himself. So much of it, you're so full of it already. Plan B isn't such a difficult thing to buy anyway. Especially after he chooses to keep fucking you, as if he worries he'll never get to do it again.
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Holy Ground - Prologue
Summary:
Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?)
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
Azriel had always liked Starfall.
Even he could enjoy one night a year where they danced and were merry…where they pretended that everything was just fine.
Just that this year…he couldn’t quite manage it.
Feyre had invited Lucien.
A year after that catastrophic Winter Solstice.
And for the very first time, Elain…Elain seemed not just willing but genuinely happy to converse with her mate.
*Keep away from her,* Rhys had repeated his order that morning, making it very clear what he wanted his spymaster to do. And Azriel…well, he had acquiesced.
Of course, he did.
Nobody had even noticed when he had slipped away…Nobody had wanted to notice. Why should they? They were all content...they were all happy.
Mor's mating bond with Emerie had snapped just weeks before and that had...everybody was so very pleased for her.
*You are not going to ruin this for Mor,* Rhys had snapped into his mind. *She has been through enough.*
Azriel wasn't going to ruin it.
So he pretended that everything was normal. And then he disappeared silently, and launched himself off the balcony and went flying. He didn't need to think when he did that. Even the shadows kept silent.
The night sky was a velvety black, speckled with countless glittering stars.
Azriel loved to fly, loved the rush of the wind buffeting his body, the exhilarating feeling of power and freedom. He soared high into the sky, basking in the cool breeze on his face.
At least he had this .
As a child it was all he had wanted. And now...now it was...now it was seemingly the one thing that gave him something close to peace. The last few green sparkling streaks on the sky...Skyfall was nearly over, once again.
He basked in it for a little while. Until he felt the scratch of Rhys' mental claws against his walls.
*Azriel,* Rhys' voice was harsh, sharp, demanding. *Where are you?*
* Out. * Azriel answered simply. * Flying. *
*Come back,* Rhys ordered with a sigh. *Look, I get it. You are angry at me.*
Azriel didn't even bother answering to that, swooping lower and then pushing higher again, revelling in the cold night air.
*Elain and Lucien are figuring things out,* Rhys continued.
* Good for them, * Azriel replied, his tone still bland. * Is there anything else? *
Rhys let out an exasperated breath.
*Azriel...I am sorry,* his brother apologised. *Be angry at me all you like. This would have only ended in heartbreak for you anyway.*
*That should have been my decision to make,* Azriel's voice was cold, curt, brooking no argument.
Rhys sighed. *Not if the political ramifications could have upset an already strained peace,* Rhys snapped. *Be reasonable, Azriel.*
* Are you done? * he asked Rhys drily.
*Azriel... * Rhys' voice was exasperated. *Fine. Be angry with me, if it makes you feel better,* his brother snorted. *If you want to throw a tantrum like a child, be my guest.*
Azriel gritted his teeth. This was not a tantrum. *Great. Thanks.* he shot back at Rhys nonetheless.
*Elain is happy, Azriel,* Rhys said softly. *And you should be happy for her.*
* Fine, * he said, voice toneless. * I am happy for her. What else do you want from me, Rhys? *
*For you to stop sulking,* Rhys replied. *And to come back to the Party.*
*No,* Azriel said simply, making another loop in the sky, feeling the wind rushing past him.
*Azriel,* Rhys growled, his temper shortening. I mean it.
*I think I'll go to that pleasure hall near the harbour instead,* Azriel said, his voice cold. * After all, if I want to fuck somebody, I should go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, right? *
*Azriel!* his brother snapped, clearly irritated. *That is enough.*
* What? I am just following your orders, High Lord, * Azriel gave back icily.
*You sound like a petulant child.* Rhys snapped.
* Go back to your party, * Azriel said drily. * I'll be just fine. *
Rhys let out a huffing breath. *Fine. Go and pout some more.*
Azriel ignored his brother, closing the connection and feeling his walls snap back into place.He would pout some more. Thank you very much.
Azriel flew higher, ignoring the party, ignoring everything. He pushed his wings faster, harder, revelling in the wind, in the silence, in the stars above him.
The only sound he could hear was his heartbeat, pulsing in his ears, matching the beating of his wings as he flew. He flew and flew and flew, until his muscles ached, until his wings felt heavy.
It was nice. He liked it. He loved it, in fact.
There was a reason he loved flying so much. It was freedom, it was a rush, but most of all it was quiet.
He did go back to the House of Wind…even when he had no plans to go back to that party. He would go to his room and pout some more. Maybe write some more reports.
Do whatever the High Lord expected the Spymaster to do.
He landed one one of the many, many balconies, recognising the Priestesses’ herb garden with a start.
"Spymaster."
Azriel froze for a heartbeat, closing his eyes, cursing mentally. He had wanted to come back unnoticed, to slip in silently. But apparently he wasn’t the lucky.
One of the Priestesses was sitting on the balcony’s ledge. He wasn’t scared that she was going to jup, simply because the balconies were spelled to prevent exactly that.
Sitting there, wrapped in a thick knitted blanket, with dark brown hair reached her waist was Irena.
Clotho’s right hand. The one in charge of seemingly all the paperwork that involved the library. All the bureaucracy went over Irena’s desk, all the accounts and acquisitions…
She was the daughter of one merchant of the midlands, married off to another richer merchant as soon as she had been barely old enough.
Azriel had met her for the first time two centuries ago. There had been a string of disappearances of young girls in the surrounding areas and his shadows had very quickly found the culprit.
Azriel had killed her husband…before he could kill Irena. Her husband had had a taste for violence…his young, beautiful wife had been one of his long-suffering victims.
Azriel had brought her to the library. He hadn’t really thought that she would bloom here as she had…hadn’t thought that a girl raised with a silver spoon in her mouth would be content with in the library. But she was.
And Irena turned out to be one of those scarily efficient people that could do the job of three people. In two hundred years, she had actually managed to make the House of Wind cost Rhys nearly nothing in upkeep anymore. Thanks to the gardens of the priestesses that kept them in fruits and vegetables and herbs…some of them sold to the vendors in Velaris, some turned into creams and potions in the stillroom, that were also sold…the library was just one thing the priestesses did. Some preferred the stillroom or the gardens or even needle work, knitted sweaters that were handed out to the needy in Velaris.
She had done that. Had bloomed and flourished here.
"Irena," he finally brought out, his voice hoarse.
She turned to face him for the first time. She had just grown more beautiful over the years…with long dark hair and dark doe eyes sat in a delicate face.
But all of that didn’t matter anymore. The moment their eyes met...suddenly everything changed.
His priorities were rearranged. All he cared about anymore was her. Was the priestess wrapped in her wool blanket sitting on that balcony ledge…
Irena.
She was his mate .
" Oh ," she breathed, her brown doe eyes widening near comically large.
Azriel just stared at her, feeling as though even the world had stopped breathing.
His mate .
His mate was sitting in front of him.
Irena .
Irena was his mate.
"Azriel," she whispered, her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.
They just stared at each other for a long, long time. He stepped closer to her, wanting to touch her, wanting to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, her soft lips against his. He wanted to pull her close...he wanted...
But Azriel didn't reach out. he didn't want to scare her. Didn't want to corner her. So he simply leant next to the railing a little bit away from her, still staring at her. "I..." he stuttered, trying to come up with he perfect sentence to tell his mate.
"I...I didn't expect that," Irena whispered.
"Me neither," Azriel said quietly, still slightly breathless, the information slowly sinking in.
"But it's not... unwelcome ?" Irena offered next.
"Absolutely not," Azriel said immediately. "I mean..." he said. She looked so small, sitting there on the ledge, wrapped into her blanket. One delicate shoulder poked out of it, only covered by white, near translucent cotton. She must only be wearing her nightdress, he realised suddenly.
She looked…so young right at that moment.
"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, still staring at her, a soft, tender feeling spreading through him.
His . She was his .
Irena closed her eyes with a heavy breath, before nodding hesitantly. "I just....this was..." she said slowly, not daring to look at him. "It was unexpected."
"For both of us," Azriel said quietly, trying to read her expression. Was it...was she happy? Was she upset ?
She nodded, and then bit her lip. "I..." she started and his eyes lingered at that small, plump lip of hers, wishing that he would be the one biting it.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly and he instantly snapped his eyes back up to her face. "Sorry?" he echoed, frowning, because...what was she apologizing for?
"I mean," she continued, her dark brows knitting together as she bit her lip. Oh dear god, Azriel had never wanted to be a lip so much in his life. "I... I don't think I'm what you were expecting ."
Azriel took a breath, ready to assure her that he was positively delighted at the prospect of her being his mate but the words didn't quite leave his lips because...
"Are you dissappointed?" he managed, his hands clenching around the railing. He was scared what her answer would be.
She finally looked at him. Looked into his eyes and Azriel felt the world slow down for a moment, felt his throat tighten as she searched his expression, searching for something.
Whatever she was searching for, she seemed to find it though because she let out a sigh of relief, her lips quirking into a small, self-depreciating smile. "No," she said honestly. Azriel's breath caught at the Genuity on her face. "No, I'm not. But I...I don't know what...if I can ever give you..." Irena said weakly.
He shook his head. "We have time," Azriel promised her fiercely. All the time. They could figure this out at their own pace.
"Time," Irena echoed softly, looking towards the vast, twinkling night sky, the stars reflected in her eyes.
She looked back at him for a moment, and he could see an almost helpless expression in her eyes.
"I...I don't want to disappoint you,” she said quietly.
"You couldn’t," Azriel whispered, still staring at her, at the beautiful face of his mate. "Believe me, you never could disappoint me."
She gave him the tiniest smile. She didn't believe him, he knew that. Regardless of how ridiculous it was. She deserved more than him. More than scarred and battered and broken warrior.
"I will never...I will never force you," he promised her softly. "I will never..."
She nodded, but Azriel still saw something like relief flash over her face.
It broke his heart. "You are a good male," she whispered.
"No. I am not," Azriel immediately disagreed, because he knew he wasn't. He couldn't even begin to name all the things he had done, all the horrors he had committed.
He had killed her husband. That was just one of the things on his long, long list. “You deserve better than me,” he said weakly.
"You are my mate," Irena murmured softly. "There is nothing better."
"I...have...killed people," he protested. Killed her husband too. though he did think that that male deserved it.
"You did," she agreed. "You are a warrior. A protector. You were the one that saved me" she said quietly.
Irena took a deep breath, and then, slowly, reached out, touching his scarred fingers, running small, delicate fingertips over the back of his hands, and Azriel froze, completely still, hardly able to breath as she slowly traced the scars on his skin.
Her touch was light, but searing, making his skin tingle.
He slowly turned his hand, catching her fingers between his, squeezing gently as he intertwined their hands.
"I will never force you. I will never lay a finger on you. Whatever we do in the future, is your decision," he swore.
She stared up at him, the stars reflected in her eyes, her cheeks a faint pink.
Beautiful . Azriel thought, mesmerized and completely enraptured.
"I believe you," she whispered and Azriel's breath caught.
From her...that had been hurt so much...to hear that...it was...
"I will protect you," Azriel promised fiercely and her breath hitched as he lifted her hand, carefully, gently pressing his lips to the tips of her fingers. "I will protect you with my life."
She smiled at him then, a real smile, and Azriel felt as though his heart might stop. He had thought her beautiful before, but now, with her face illuminated in all its delicate beauty by the starry night sky...she was breathtaking .
"I...I will need some time to adjust," Irena said softly. Azriel just nodded dumbly, still a little star struck by her smile. "I...I haven't..." Irena said and she turned her head, looking out into the night sky, her hand still in his.
She hesitated, clearly struggling for words, and Azriel felt his heart seize up in his chest. Had he overwhelmed her? Had he pressured her?
"I haven't been with anyone in a long time." she admitted quietly. Irena didn't look at him, but Azriel was still looking at her, taking in her soft, almost angelic features, the slight blush on her cheeks.
He swallowed."I understand," Azriel whispered, and he did. He understood her hesitation, her uncertainty. And he would be patient...he would wait for as long as she needed.
"But...if you wanted to...you know where to find me," she said softly.
Azriel felt as though he was dreaming. He had found his mate, his beautiful, incredible mate, and she had welcomed him, wanted him even, and
Breathe . He told himself as he tried to calm the hammering of his heart. Breathe .
And slowly, carefully, he nodded, his fingers still interlaced with hers. "I will come to you," he said, his voice husky. "Whenever you want me too."
She was...a gift. A gift he didn't deserve but would treasure always.
Slowly...and so, so very carefully, Azriel stepped closer to her, still holding her hand, before lowering himself slowly down to sit next to her on the ledge. And this close he could sense just how much smaller she was than him, could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell her scent.
Poppies and something sweet and warm like…apple blossoms maybe?
Azriel wanted...gods, he wanted to kiss her.
But he didn't. He just held her hand, trying to memorize every small detail of hers. The curve of her cheek, the soft blush on her skin, her nose, the full lips.... The tiny flecks of gold in her eyes that reflected the stars above them.
She was breathtakingly beautiful
For a moment Azriel forgot where there were, forgot the cold air around them. For a moment there were only the two of them on this ledge, beneath the stars and a soft night sky. And it was...he felt peaceful .
It wasn't a feeling he had a lot. But here, on the ledge, his hand in hers, he felt at peace. And when Irena slowly rested her head on his shoulder, Azriel could feel nothing but utter contentment.
His heart swelled with affection for her, and he carefully rested his cheek against her head, taking a deep breath.
This was real. She was his mate.
She was truly, truly his.
His .
And nobody knew. Nobody had a clue. He could keep her all to himself.
And selfishly...that felt really good.
Nobody was going to have an opinion about them. Nobody needed to know now.
He wanted to keep her a secret. Gods, he wanted to.
She let out a soft, content sigh, her head still resting on his shoulder, and Azriel smiled to himself.
Notes:
If you liked this fic, then kudos, comments or constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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SHAI I NEED YANDERE MICHAEL KAISER BABY TRAPPING CHUBBY READER..... PLEASSEEEEEEE AHSHSJZJZNJ
❝ BED OF ROSES. ❞
( ၴႅၴ FEATURING. YANDERE! MICHAEL KAISER
CONTENT WARNINGS. babytrapping + sabotage + brief chap. 260 spoilers + implied abuse + abandonment issues + gaslighting + emotional manipulation + smut.
SYNOPSIS. kaiser is ready for a baby but you aren't ready so you leave him with no choice.
“i'm not ready for a baby, michael.”
that wasn't the answer he was expecting coming from you. michael had put a lot of thought on this, starting a family with you and you straight out refused him. never did he felt betrayed from the person who is you.
he have the influence. connection and wealth to raise children no matter how many you want but why the answer of you not being ready when in his mind you were the perfect mother to his perfect kids.
“so when you will be ready for children, rose?” the nickname rolling smoothly in his tongue. grasping your soft jaw softly and lifting it up to meet his baby blue eyes. his lips quirked in soft curve. a smile he had shown to you many times.
“i don't know, michael. honestly, i've been thinking that we're both not ready for it and i'm scared. scared that i'm bringing a life in this world where i'm unsure of what to. i don't want for the baby to have a mother whose unsure of herself.” you reasoned and you watch as his smile deflates. replacing it with a thin line. a look of disappointment in his face. his baby blue eyes darkening.
you meant it. he's sure of it and despite for searching for a subtle hint that you are lying, he found nothing. only the features of what a anxious person is and michael hated it.
everything was going fine. he's the ace of bastard münchen, the one who will replace noel noa, an emperor and he can't get what he wants. needs. he only want a fucking child with you and you can't even be prepared for it when your job is only to bear his kid.
your explanation meant one thing. you don't want to be with him anymore. that's right. that's the reason you don't want to take it on the next step and sooner or later, you'll be leaving him for good.
he won't allow you leave him. out of admirers and his potential lovers none of them made connection and attachment to him like you did. you were the chosen one for him and a devious idea formed inside his thought. he could impregnate you without your knowledge and you won't be thinking of leaving him with a child inside your already round stomach. he's sure of it. you're nothing a like to his greedy mother. you're perfect for motherhood, to him.
he'll be killing two birds with one stone and thus, it begins.
“m-michael....” you softly moans out his name after reaching your release and kaiser groans from the tightness of your cunt milking him dry. it's still the same from how you call his name, the hold you have in his arms, everything. however it didn't change that you leaving him since you confessed that you don't want a baby from since he expressed his desire for wanting one.
michael eyes the pill bottle in disdain watching as you popped two pills in your mouth. birth control pills. one of the things he certainly dislikes. preventing you from being swollen with his child.
he softly pats your head. the questions reeling in his mind. “you know we're going to be great parents to a child.” he commented out of the blue of the dimness surrounding the room. you tense at the subject of being parents. shifting in your place where you lay your round cheeks in his lean chest. you pressed your palm in his chest and meeting his gaze. “michael, please not again. i'm not ready. we're going to be one but not today.” frowning at what he's implying again.
“i apologize, my rose. the thought don't simply want to leave me.” the pad of his thumb grazing on the softness of your cheek. “i always think that our child will be blessed with a parents like us. imagine a mini-version of me or yours and better a mix of us. having us for them to look at. both they will love.” his voice gentle and sweet. a glint of fondness swirling in his eyes and it made you sick. staring at those eyes of him when he talks about it.
sighing, “i want that too, michael.” your simply murmured. avoiding his gaze and he's quick to met yours again. “we both want it.” catching your lips in one of a desperate kiss before pulling back. pushing your round shoulder. laying down with your back in the sheets. michael hovers above you. his blonde hair streaked with blue were like vines hanging.
“we should have plenty of conversation once it happened. looking forward to seeing this stomach of yours getting rounder than already it is with our baby.” he cheekily commented although it was laced with honesty. “michael, i'm on the pill.” you giggled. the striker smiles at you. “i know. let me have you like i'm going to get you pregnant.” he's one with you again.
the sudden blaring of the timer startles you. five whole minutes of waiting and your life is about to change, maybe michael's too. you weren't sure and your hands shakes like they were electrocuted. exhale and inhale. you repeated it. the tears is already pooling in between of your lashes and you didn't know wether to cry or not.
building the courage of grabbing the flipped pregnancy test down. you reversed the stick and you bursted into tears. the results clear as the daylight.
all two lines. it is positive. all three of the pregnancy sticks littered in the sink indicated you were pregnant with kaiser's child. why? the first question appeared in your mind. you were careful and so is michael since you made it clear you didn't want a baby and michael was respectful of it. you don't know what you're supposedly to do know. your misery in exchange for kaiser's happiness.
a triumphant smirk blooms in his face. his jaw resting in your head while he comforts his girlfriend who told him minutes ago that you are pregnant with his baby. switching from shushing and comforting you that he knows best. listening while you cry your heart out. “we were careful, michael.” you sob. “i know.” he whispers.
“i was on the pill. i took them regularly at the right time.”
sugar pills.
sugar pills is what you had been taking for the past months. a bit hard to differentiate them from the real ones, your birth control pills easily switched with those sugar pills. you didn't even suspect a thing and during that time where you began taking them is where he made sure to breed you full. cumming deep inside and staying for a bit to make sure it took and it did.
michael cups your cheeks. “it was meant for us, my rose.” was his only explanation to you. sparks and sparks of new emotions bubbling inside of him. he's going to be a father. the best one and you his girlfriend is about to be a mother. he would spend the next months looking over for his soon-to-be wife and baby. of course, wife. the baby would not to be illegitimate child of his.
as much kaiser dislikes your tears, it was better. you can no longer leave him. not with his baby inside you. it would be considered a crime for you to take it away. truly, it wasn't going to happen if you simply just agreed with him. have his baby, end of story.
it's going to be a bed of roses from now on.
#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock smut#bllk#kaiser x reader#bllk kaiser#michael kaiser#blue lock#blue lock x chubby reader#yandere blue lock x reader#yandere x chubby reader#yandere x reader#michael kaiser x you#bllk manga#chap260
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𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
read part one here!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 6.8k words
summary: in which spending the night with steve only makes things more complicated
warnings: explicit language, cheating (both reader and steve are cheating on their partners), implied smut, a lot of angst
author’s note: did this for the like ten ppl that asked for it<333 i listened to a lot (A LOT) of i, carrion (icarian) by hozier while writing this so that pretty much explains the super angsty vibes we have throughout most of this lol (angst with a happy ending though so no need to hate me! 🫶🏾)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
The time couldn’t have been later than six o’clock.
For the most part, it was still dark outside, but you could see the beginning bits of the sun rising through Steve’s thin curtains.
And it was then that you realized that you were still in Steve’s bed when you definitely shouldn’t have been. A fresh wave of guilt began to settle in your stomach as you shifted around to face him. He was still asleep, lips slightly parted and hair a mess.
You needed to leave— you actually should’ve left hours ago, but you’d fallen asleep way too easily in his bed; something that you’d actually never done before. And even now you still couldn’t find it in you to move, so you instead kept looking at him and pushed away the guilt that quietly gnawed at your stomach and told you that you should be running away right now.
“You’re staring,” Steve mumbled after a few moments, eyes still shut and the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face.
You quickly shook your head even though he obviously couldn’t see you. “Not true.”
His eyes opened and you immediately closed yours, knowing that he caught you but you still pretended as if you were innocent.
You felt him poke your side barely a second later and you laughed despite yourself. Your eyes opened and you didn’t hesitate to meet his gaze, but then seeing the small happy smile on his face reminded you of why you shouldn’t have been in his bed right then.
You shifted so that your head was back against the pillow and you stared up at his ceiling, focusing on a random spot. “So, um, are you feeling okay after last night?”
You decided against specifying exactly what happened last night to save you from pointing out the elephant in the room— him being drunk and showing up to your house and a conversation that was honest but also not at all somehow leading here.
“Yeah, just a headache, but not really.”
You promptly decided to use that as an excuse to get out of his bed. “I’ll go grab something for you. Is the aspirin still in the same spot in your bathroom?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to do that.”
You shook your head as you pulled the blanket off and got up. “No, it’s fine.”
You stepped through the door that connected to his bathroom. You avoided looking at yourself in the mirror, for reasons that you couldn’t fully decipher, and simply rummaged through the drawer underneath his sink for a quick second.
Steve was still in the same position in his bed when you returned to his room, except now he was looking at you with a confused look in his eyes.
He didn’t say anything or call you out on your current antics though as you tossed over the bottle of aspirin to him, and then you realized something.
“Oh, you need water too. I’ll be right back.”
“You don’t—”
You waved him off before he could finish his statement and slipped out of his room, not giving him a chance to say anything else.
It didn’t take long, you knew his house fairly well, and doing the mundane task of finding a glass and filling it with some water was enough to help clear your mind and make you think about everything logically. You realized just how much of a mistake last night was, but the only good thing was that this would be easy to recover from. You two could still go your separate ways and let your different lives completely go back to how they were before you two started sneaking around with each other.
When you got back to Steve’s room, he was sitting up and leaning back against his headboard. He pushed a hand through his hair, which actually did very little to tame its messiness.
“Here you go,” You said as you handed over the glass.
He smiled at you. “Thanks.”
You simply nodded in response at first and then you were speaking. “Yeah, no problem.”
You lingered awkwardly by his bed because you didn’t want to get back in, but you felt as if there was a lot more you should say before you left. “Hey, um, can we agree to actually not do this anymore? I still stand by everything I said in the bathroom yesterday.”
His confused look returned. “We didn’t do anything last night.”
“Yeah, and I think that’s somehow worse,” You told him as you turned away because it became too hard to hold his gaze right then. You grabbed your hoodie off the back of his door and slipped it on. “Let’s just let things go back to normal, okay? You with Nancy and me with Jamie.”
It didn’t necessarily feel right saying the words, but they felt needed. You had to say them. You had to pretend that everything was fine, or that it at least had the potential to be that way.
“I broke up with Nancy last night.”
For a second, all you could do was simply look at him as the words processed in your brain because at first you were convinced that you heard him wrong. But once they did process, you were immediately blurting out, “What? When?”
“Before I got drunk and saw you,” He answered, voice way too soft to match this huge news that he was dropping on you.
You shook your head and sighed as you realized that everything wasn’t going to easily go back to normal and be fine like you wanted it to be. “God, Steve, I really wish you would’ve told me that last night.”
“Would it have changed anything? Is it changing anything now?”
“I wouldn’t have let myself come here,” You answered immediately. “If you had told me this when you were standing on my front lawn, I would’ve told you to go and try to get back with her.”
There was a lot more that you could’ve said— that you would’ve seen the conversation you two had last night right here in his bedroom entirely different if you’d known, and you wouldn’t have let yourself fall asleep in his arms if you knew that there wasn’t any hope for things to go back to normal because he no longer had a “normal” to go back to. And you wouldn’t let yourself be here with him in this moment either.
“Is it changing anything now?” Steve asked again when he noticed that you hadn’t answered that question.
“No... No, it’s not,” You said after the briefest moment of hesitation and then turned away from him again. “I’m gonna go. You should try to fix things with her.”
“Why do you want me to be with her so bad?” You could hear him ask as you closed his bedroom door behind you.
Because then I’d feel a little less terrible about all of this. You wanted to practically scream that at him. You wanted him to understand that if things could just go back to how they were then you’d feel okay about how shitty of a person you’d been for the past month and a half. At least, that was the hope.
However, you didn’t tell him any of that.
“It’s just, it’s the right thing to do, Steve,” You responded loud enough for him to hear you through the shut door.
You headed down the stairs, not listening to see if Steve said anything else, and you were in the middle of putting on your shoes when you heard his door open again. You tied your sneakers quickly and terribly because you hoped that you’d be able to slip out before Steve made it down the stairs.
Perhaps you two needed to have a better conversation that would actually come to some sort of proper conclusion, but you couldn’t do that right then. And then you quickly figured that if you kept pushing him away, maybe he’d get the hint and push you away too, or simply let go.
You were only able to pull open the front door before you abruptly stopped your fast movements.
Because Nancy was standing in front of you, finger seconds away from ringing the doorbell. Her eyes met yours and you suddenly wished for the ground to swallow you whole.
She looked like a girl that had just been broken up with, eyes puffy and red like she’d been crying all night, and you knew that was entirely your fault. An immediate “I’m so sorry” was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say that, not right then. She had the saddest look on her face that was quickly replaced with surprise and confusion when she saw you standing where you were.
“Oh, oh, hey. I was, um… I was just leaving,” You said to her, trying to sound as normal as possible but this was perhaps the most not normal situation ever.
Her eyes immediately narrowed at you. “Oh my god, I knew it.”
You wondered what she meant. Did she mean that she knew that Steve was cheating, or she knew that he was cheating with you?
You obviously didn’t ask her to clarify, though. Instead, you slipped past her and started walking away. The last thing you heard was Steve saying, “Nance, what are you doing here?” and her responding with some angry words that you felt as if you shouldn’t have heard.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
After the moment you and Steve had on New Year’s— an abrupt kiss on a swing set that led to a lot more kissing in his car— a sort of routine quickly formed. It became a cycle of ending up in his car or your car or his house, and it was exactly three weeks after New Year’s when he finally saw the inside of yours.
It was a rare one-off situation where your parents were gone for the weekend and you knew that you weren’t supposed to have anyone over; not even Jamie, even though they’d known him for practically forever.
You had never had the urge to break the rule before and Jamie wanted to keep a good relationship with your parents and was also too nice to suggest breaking it either, so you initially thought that your nights would be quiet.
Except you now had Steve in your life. And he didn’t mind breaking the rule of your parents who he hadn’t even met, so he came over to your house around ten o’clock.
You were immediately trying to pull him in for a kiss when you closed the front door behind him, but he pulled back with a teasing smile.
“Can I at least get a tour before you try to seduce me?”
You playfully rolled your eyes at him but still nodded at his request. “Of course, I’m so sorry, where are my manners?”
You grabbed his hand before you could think too much about it, and quickly led him through your house and pointed out everything. “Kitchen, small dining room, living room, guest room and bathroom down the hall. And that’s pretty much it for down here. Nothing as extravagant as your house.”
“I like it.”
“Don’t get too attached because this is the only time that this will happen here.”
You didn’t outwardly say the exact reason why that was probably the case— it would never make sense for him to come over any other time; it would either be too risky with your parents right down the hall or during a time when Jamie was over. But, Steve understood all of what was left unspoken.
“Got it,” He said and then he smiled at you. “Can I see upstairs?”
You nodded, leading the way once again. “My parents' room is down that way, and I’m right here.”
The door was already open so you let him walk in first. There wasn’t too much you found embarrassing about your bedroom, not the full shelf of books or the few posters that hung on the wall above your desk. The only thing that made your cheeks warm in embarrassment was the wallpaper on your walls that you had since you were a kid and had hoped to change sooner rather than later, but you had just never gotten around to it.
Steve looked at you after a moment. “Cute room.”
“One day those pink unicorns will no longer be on the wall.”
“I like them. They add character.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as you laughed at his words. “Shut up.”
The teasing smirk on his face didn’t manage to annoy you as he stepped closer to you and the distance between you two became nonexistent. He leaned in and kissed you then because that was what was supposed to happen and it probably should’ve happened sooner; what you two were doing wasn’t meant to be anything more or less than physical.
Your freshly made bed became a mess in a matter of moments and clothes were quickly scattered on the floor; his jeans and t-shirt gone and your own tank top and shorts tossed somewhere to the side too.
It was fairly early for a Friday night, and you kind of wondered how Steve could even be here right now, but neither of you ever asked where each other’s person was. It was just quietly understood that when you two were together it meant that some excuse had been made or some lie had been told so that this could happen.
A part of you knew that you’d eventually feel bad about all of this, but it had only been three weeks and you were able to forget about how bad you should’ve been feeling when you and Steve were together like this; not an ounce of space between your bodies and limbs tangled beneath bedsheets. Weirdly enough, it just felt too right even though it was objectively wrong.
Soft kisses trailed along your neck and collarbone and then proceeded to move lower and lower. All you could do was sigh in contentment and your eyes slipped shut as you let Steve turn your mind to mush for the time being.
“You’ve read all of these?” Steve asked you later; when you were heading back into your bedroom after using the bathroom and you saw him standing next to your bookshelf.
He was shirtless with only his jeans hanging low on his hips, which made sense since you were wearing his t-shirt right then; it had been the closest thing to you afterward. Now, though, you pulled it off and tossed it over to him and then went to grab your own shirt.
“Yeah,” You simply answered his question as you searched around your room for your underwear and slipped it on once you spotted it partially under your bed.
Steve pulled one of the books off of the shelf, you couldn’t see what the title said even as you moved a little closer to him. “This is the one that we had to read for that English project last year.”
You nodded. “Oh, yeah, I liked it a lot, actually.”
“I barely remember anything that happened in it.”
“That’s not surprising and it’s probably the reason why we got a B+ on that project.”
Steve placed the book on the shelf and then turned around to face you. “Hey, a B+ is great.”
“Yeah, for you, but for a person that actually really likes English, not so much,” You told him and then smiled to show that, for the most part, you were joking.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry for holding you back on that project.”
“Apology accepted,” You said. “I also really don’t even need an apology because I’ve had much worse partners than you on things before.”
“Okay, in that case, I feel honored that I haven’t been the worst person you’ve ever had to work with.”
You laughed a little. “And I hope I was the best person you’ve ever had to work with.”
Steve nodded. “Of course, you definitely were.”
You were pretty sure he was joking— even though he didn’t entirely sound like it— so you continued playing along. “I feel honored.”
He stepped closer to you and for a second you thought that he was going to kiss you again, and although that never happened after, you didn’t think that you would’ve reminded him of that or pushed him away. He didn’t kiss you, though; he stopped before he got that close to you and started heading toward your open bedroom door instead.
“I should probably go,” He said, and you nodded in agreement.
He could’ve easily stayed the night if either of you wanted that to happen. But, he didn’t ask and you didn’t offer. It would’ve been wrong to, you both could silently agree on that.
You were kind of starting to become okay with things becoming more and more wrong, though.
This was meant to be mindless and solely physical, but it was becoming a sort of routine, second nature in a way, to talk about random nonsense or joke around with each other.
However, staying the night felt like a line you two shouldn’t cross; it felt different than just talking for a while after. It felt a thousand times more intimate and serious and like it went several steps past just having sex or being two people who talked about way too much with each other sometimes.
“I’ll see you later,” Steve said before he opened your front door.
“Yeah,” You nodded. “Goodnight.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
Barely a month later, and the line had been crossed.
The unspoken rule was broken and there wasn’t even any point to spiral out about it because that somehow wasn’t the worst thing that happened.
Everything was ruined, or it at least soon would be because you couldn’t imagine Nancy sitting on this information and not telling anyone. She was rightfully mad and maybe you deserved whatever would happen once all of this spread around the school.
Your walk home from Steve’s house was quick and the sun was completely up by the time you made it through your front door, but it was still early enough that your parents were still asleep and wouldn’t know that you’d been gone for the entire night.
A part of you wanted to simply just go to sleep when you stepped back into your bedroom, sleep through the entire day, and just forget about everything. But then there was the other part of you that couldn’t not think about everything; the inevitable explosion that was coming sooner rather than later, and it didn’t even feel entirely dramatic to view it that way.
Ultimately, you decided to take a shower because it felt like the only thing that would help you feel a little better. It ended up being the longest shower you’d had in a while and it actually didn’t do much to make you feel any differently. There was still the guilt that had made a home in your stomach when you woke up and it was now coupled with a lot of dread.
You left for school at the time you were supposed to leave, saying a quick goodbye to your parents before stepping out of the door, but you turned left instead of right at the end of your block and ended up at a diner. You stayed there for probably way too long, sipping coffee instead of anything else because you couldn’t stomach the thought of having actual food right then.
You thought about how you could fix things, and if there was even any hope to fix anything, and also what exactly was there to fix. You didn’t want to hurt Jamie, but you were certain that you did, and what could you even say to him now that would magically “fix” what you’d done?
That you loved him and still wanted to be with him? That everything that happened with Steve was a stupid mistake and you regretted it entirely?
You had lied a lot over the past month and a half and you didn’t want to just continue piling onto it. But, then the thought of being a thousand percent honest felt way too scary.
And when thinking about how fucked your life was became too much, you took the newspaper that a random older man offered you and sipped more coffee, and reread the same articles over and over again.
You eventually showed up to school halfway through lunch. Missing the entire day felt a bit too cowardly and you also remembered that you had to take a Chemistry quiz at the end of the day. However, you didn’t immediately step out of your car once you were parked in the school parking lot. Instead, you leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a sigh, eyes slipping shut in the process as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever you'd have to face inside those walls.
An abrupt quick knock against your window scared you and made you open your eyes. It was Jamie standing at your passenger side window and you could feel your heart speed up in your chest, and it wasn’t because you’d just been startled by him.
But, he didn’t look mad at you, just confused, and that felt like a good sign; maybe that meant that the “inevitable” actually hadn’t happened yet.
You gave him a small wave and then he opened the door and proceeded to get in your car.
“Where’ve you been?”
“I wasn’t really feeling good this morning, but then I remembered my Chem quiz last period and I don’t wanna miss that.”
He nodded. “Oh, okay.”
He wasn’t looking at you— you could tell that he was purposely avoiding eye contact with you, actually— and it was that that made you realize that he knew.
“I’m so sorry,” You blurted out.
“Is it true?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Finally, his eyes met yours and the hurt look on his face made you want to break his gaze, but it would’ve been too shitty to look away because you suddenly felt bad. “I don’t get it... Steve Harrington? Really? Do you wanna be with him now?”
For a second, you didn’t say anything. You couldn’t; no words would form on your lips. And it was then that you realized that you weren’t ready to be honest with this guy sitting next to you who you’d known since you were twelve and considered your best friend since then too. It shouldn’t have felt so fucking hard, but it did, and the worst part of it was that you knew that you had to tell him the truth anyway.
“Honestly, Steve has nothing to do with how I feel about us and you,” You ultimately said, realizing that you weren’t completely answering Jamie’s question, but he didn’t call you out on it. “I’d been feeling… off about things for a while, but I wanted to pretend like I wasn’t. I wanted to pretend that everything was fine and normal between you and me, so I pushed those “off” feelings away and buried them down, and acted as if they didn’t exist. I lied a lot to myself because I was scared that I’d mess everything up. And then I saw Steve on New Year’s and we did something stupid and shitty that didn’t feel that way at the time, and that’s when I started lying to you. And all of the lying and what me and him were doing never felt completely terrible and wrong until yesterday. But, by the time I actually wanted to do the right thing and try to be a good person, it was too late. And maybe that’s actually a good thing because I would’ve just kept lying to myself and to you too if things hadn’t blown up this way.”
You were rambling and probably not making any sense right then. The thought of ruining absolutely everything still weighed so heavily on you, even though the damage was already pretty much done. There was no recovering from this and there was no “fixing” things, you realized now. However, you were still explaining and explaining and hoping that maybe things could somehow be okay.
A confused look crossed Jamie’s face. “Why didn’t you just tell me how you were feeling about us before?”
“Because I’m a coward and I wanted to avoid all of this,” You admitted. “And also because it was just so confusing. I love you, you’re my best friend, so it didn’t make sense to me why I was no longer in love with you. And the thought of having any sort of conversation about this scared the shit out of me because I don’t wanna lose you completely.”
Things became quiet for a second and Jamie looked away from you, staring straight ahead at the parking lot instead.
After a moment, he started speaking again. “Remember back in seventh grade, and I’m pretty sure most of eighth grade too, you used to make me turn around or close my eyes whenever you wanted to tell me some sort of secret?”
The abrupt subject change surprised you, but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, I remember that.”
You weren’t ever entirely sure why you would do that so much. Jamie was the first person you’d ever gotten super close to and you felt like you could tell any and all of your secrets to him, but the act of doing so scared you, so you’d make him look away whenever you did. He thought it was a little weird at first, but he came around to the antic after the first few times.
“You eventually stopped doing that and you started telling me everything right to my face,” He continued and you understood where he was going then. “I thought that meant that you felt like you could tell me anything, especially all of the shitty stuff.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” You said, and it was a bad excuse, but it was also honest. “And I know that I just ended up hurting you, anyway. Probably a thousand times worse than if I just told you the truth from the beginning.”
He looked at you again. “So, what’s the truth?”
You wanted to break his gaze so badly, but you forced yourself not to. “I love you, I really do, but I want things to go back to how they used to be with us. I wanna just be friends. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” He said softly, and he didn’t sound completely hurt, but you still felt terrible.
“I’m sorry,” You told him again because it felt like the only thing to say right then.
He lightly shook his head at you, like he didn’t want you to keep saying it. “At least I don’t have to be scared of your dad anymore.”
His joke made you smile and inwardly sigh in relief; maybe things actually could somehow be okay.
“There’s literally never been any reason to be scared of him. He likes you more than me. Who else can he talk about basketball with?”
Jamie cracked a small smile at that and a comfortable silence lingered for a bit as you took a look at the time displayed across the dashboard. There were only about fifteen minutes left of lunch and it probably would’ve been a good use of your time to focus on studying for your quiz later, but you didn’t bring it up right then and you didn’t move to grab your bookbag from the backseat. This moment actually felt okay and you didn’t want to be the one to break it.
“I’m just realizing that you didn’t answer my question from before,” Jamie eventually said.
You glanced at him, confused. “What question?”
“Do you want to be with him? With Steve?”
You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that, but you were opening your mouth to stutter out something anyway because staying silent felt like it would’ve been an answer in itself.
Before you could manage to say anything, though, Jamie continued. “Actually, no wait, never mind, I don’t think I wanna know the answer.”
He still didn’t sound entirely mad, but another soft-spoken “I’m sorry” was on the tip of your tongue. However, he was opening the door and stepping out of your car before it could fall from your lips.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
This time when the rocks began hitting your window in the middle of the night, they were expected.
You had actually called Steve asking him to come over and he didn’t say no. There was the smallest part of you that thought that maybe he would.
You pushed your window open and looked down at him standing on your front lawn. “Come up.”
A confused look crossed his face. “You’re not coming down?”
You shook your head. “No, come up.”
It was risky, your parents were right down the hall and this was pretty different from you sneaking out, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care.
The way the roof was angled made it easy for Steve to pull himself up and maneuver his way toward your bedroom window. Steve wasn’t completely graceful doing it, but he tried to be, which made it funnier, but you didn’t laugh and instead only smiled at him once he was through the window and standing in front of you.
“Did that look cooler than it felt?”
That time you couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No, sorry.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and gave you the smallest smile. “A lie would’ve been appreciated.”
“Oh, what I meant to say was that was actually the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” You told him and he laughed.
“Thank you,” He said and then slipped off his jacket and laid it on the back of your desk chair, which left him in just his white t-shirt. “I didn’t see you around school today.”
“Oh yeah, I didn’t really want to go today,” You said with a shrug that you hoped feigned the proper amount of nonchalance. Your answer was only half of the truth— you actually didn’t want to go, but you also couldn’t seem to force yourself to step out of your car after your conversation with Jamie, it felt too hard to, so you instead ended up back at the diner for another handful of hours.
You sat on the floor at the foot of your bed now, leaning back against it, and Steve followed suit, leaving only a little bit of space between you two.
You turned your head to look at him. “How bad is everything?”
“Not terrible,” He answered after the briefest moment of hesitation and you could tell that he was attempting to downplay it all for your sake. “It’ll probably blow over by Monday.”
You weren’t sure that was possible, given just how popular Steve was, but you nodded anyway and your eyes fell to your hands in your lap because it was easier than doing anything else.
Maybe he saw through the half-hearted nod because then he was whispering to you. “It’ll be okay.”
You didn’t say anything in response to those quiet words, but they did manage to soften something inside of you. You pushed away the thought of school and what Monday would look like for you; what everyone probably now thought about you and the shit people would say because of it.
You looked at Steve again and he gave you a small hopeful-looking smile that you suddenly felt like you didn’t deserve.
“I feel like I was way too mean to you this morning and I’m really sorry about that,” You abruptly told him.
Steve shook his head at your words. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter.”
His hand found one of yours then, intertwining them. It felt like way too tender and sweet of an action, something that had never been done between you two, but it also felt entirely right.
“Did you ever think about why it was so easy for us to do it? To lie and cheat?” You asked him, not holding eye contact and instead focusing on the floor.
You knew your own answer to the question, but you wondered what his was because he never seemed entirely unhappy with Nancy, and since you two rarely ever talked about your respective relationships, you felt like you knew nothing about where his head had been.
“Honestly, I didn’t think about it.”
“Why did you do it?” You asked. “Why’d you want to kiss me that night?”
There was no pause or hesitation before he answered. “Because it was you.”
That was probably the cheesiest thing you’d ever heard, so you immediately nudged his shoulder and rolled your eyes. “Stop it. Be serious.”
“I am serious,” His hand gave yours a light squeeze, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You remember the first time we met up after school to work on that English project?”
You did remember it, but you only nodded because you really wanted to hear what he had to say about it.
“We hung out for like two hours that day. Worked on the project for a bit and then just talked about random stuff for most of the time, and it was all just so easy for some reason; so damn easy to talk to you. I looked forward to every day that we had to work on the project after that. And then I think it was one of the last few days of us doing it that you randomly mentioned that you had a boyfriend and I realized that I had zero shot with you.”
You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected Steve to say, but you knew that it wasn’t that. He was right that the conversations you two had then had been pretty effortless and nice, but hearing that he liked you all the way back then felt like something that you immediately wanted to shake your head at and deny. There hadn’t been any moments during those two weeks that gave you any indication that he liked you in that way. Yes, he was flirty, and he wasn’t even dating Nancy yet so it could’ve been plausible that he really was flirting with you, but you figured that was just his personality; everyone knew just how damn charming he was.
“And then all those months later I saw you in that backyard. And things were going fine with me and Nancy, but I suddenly really wanted to talk to you. Because you were alone, and I thought that meant that you and Jamie were over because why else would you be alone on New Year’s? But, no he was still in the picture, but you didn’t tell me to fuck off because of him, so I didn’t.”
Things got quiet for a second and before you could really even think about how to respond to that, Steve was speaking again. “Why’d you let me kiss you that night?”
“I didn’t think about it too much,” You immediately answered him, suddenly finding it so easy to be honest. “Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea, but that wasn’t enough to make me wanna stop it.”
You shifted closer to him, closing the last bit of distance between you two and leaning your head against his shoulder.
“It was the kind of bad idea that felt like a good one once it was happening if that makes sense,” You continued. “It felt nice and good and really… Right. Even though it shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, it always felt right,” Steve agreed, voice soft. “It still does.”
A part of you couldn’t help but think that even though this moment felt right too, maybe it also shouldn’t have felt that way. But, everything else— what made this all so wrong in the first place— was already ruined and over, so perhaps it was okay to finally lean into this rightness since you wouldn’t end up feeling bad or guilty about it in the long run.
You pulled your hand away from Steve’s and then shifted so that you were in his lap, legs on either side of him and knees pushing into the carpet below you.
Your eyes met his soft brown ones that looked unsure of what you were about to do or say next.
“I really like you.”
It was the first time you were admitting it out loud and as the words fell from your lips and settled in the quiet air of your bedroom, you realized just how long you’d been aching to finally say them to him.
The smile that spread across Steve’s face practically melted your insides. “I really like you too.”
Your hands came up to settle on his shoulders as you nodded and smiled back at him. “Cool, nice to know that we both like each other.”
“Really like each other,” He corrected you and then leaned in to press the quickest kiss against your cheek, which made you laugh a little.
“Oh, sorry, you’re right,” You said and then it was your turn to lean in. You brushed your nose against his and your eyes slipped shut as you whispered your next words against his lips. “Really like each other.”
You started pulling back but Steve’s mouth chased yours, putting an abrupt end to your teasing. You gave in easily and leaned into him, returning his eagerness and inwardly sighing in contentment at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your pajama shorts rode up as you shifted in his lap and one of Steve’s hands moved to rest on the sides of your thighs to keep you steady.
You wouldn’t mind kissing him forever. It was a thought that hit you a lot in moments like this— as mouths explored and hands roamed— and this was the first time that that thought didn’t scare or worry you because it wouldn’t actually complicate things like it would have before.
You pulled away from his mouth after a moment and your lips found his neck instead. He let out a low hum the second you grazed your tongue over a particularly sensitive spot on his skin; you had discovered it the second time you two made out in his car and you adored the soft sound he made when you found it.
“You still have unicorns on the wall,” Steve abruptly said and the words felt so random that you stopped your movements.
You let out a laugh against his neck. “Shut up. Why are you bringing that up right now?”
“Sorry, I had to turn down the mood somehow,” He said and you pulled back to look at him. “Since your parents are right down the hall.”
“Well, I guess that just means that you have to be really quiet for once.”
He let out a sound that resembled both a scoff and an amused laugh. “Me?”
The tiniest hint of a smirk played on your lips as you nodded, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, you get really loud, Harrington.”
“I think we have very different memories of what this last month has been like,” He said and then he was tilting his head up and finding your lips again before you could potentially say anything in response to him.
His hands moved from your thighs to your hips and he pulled you down against him. There were some layers separating you two— your thin shorts and the sweatpants Steve had on— but it was still the perfect amount of friction. You were brushing roughly against the tent in his sweatpants, which made you inadvertently moan into the kiss.
“See?” Steve mumbled against your lips. “You’re the loud one.”
You pulled back a little, it was too hard not to laugh, even as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. “That was very evil.”
“I’m sorry,” He said, but smiled at you. “Come on, let’s go to my car. Maybe head to the lake? You can be as loud as you want there.”
You nodded at his teasing suggestion, but still slotted your lips against his once more, not wanting to move out of this position just yet. Steve didn’t seem to mind at all and he pulled you closer, as close as you two had been so many times before.
You could recognize that this was a weird set of circumstances and the smallest part of you was trying to figure out how much of it you’d end up looking back on and regretting— the lies and secrets that started all of this and ended up hurting people just like you knew it would. But, in this moment, you deliberately didn’t think about that. Instead, you focused on Steve and how glad you were that he was here and how happy you were to have him in your life.
You whispered those sentimental words to him moments after they hit you; labeling them as cheesy and he immediately shook his head and told you that they weren’t.
“I’m happy too,” He whispered back and one of his hands came up to find your cheek. The way he stroked your skin so tenderly made you suddenly turn shy under his gaze, but that didn’t make you want to look away from him. “That I’m here with you. And that you want me to be.”
“I think I’ll always want you to be,” You said, voice still soft and quiet, and it didn’t hit you how true those words were until they were out in the open. Maybe they were a bit blindly optimistic, but that didn’t change how much you meant them right then.
Steve kissed you again and you two stayed like that for a little longer before you moved out of his lap and the two of you finally headed to his car.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
let me know ur thoughts<333
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fluff#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagine
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How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺
I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂
Sick Day
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.
Word Count: Over 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.
You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.
Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.
“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.
“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”
You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.
He had nothing to worry about though.
“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.
Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.
A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”
You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”
“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.
“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”
Why is he getting himself worked up?
“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”
It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.
“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”
“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.
He didn’t need your tears on top of that.
But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”
God, I love this man.
“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.
Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.
“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”
Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.
“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”
“We'll watch whatever you want.”
You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”
You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”
With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”
You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.
Which was exactly why he called you down there.
“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”
“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.
You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.
“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”
You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”
He also had a cold.
Oh, no.
“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.
“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”
Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.
“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”
Oh, Bucky.
You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.
“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”
Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.
Maybe both.
But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.
When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.
“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”
You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.
And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.
“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”
“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.
Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.
Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.
Oops.
“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”
“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.
Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.
You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”
He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.
“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”
Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”
True.
“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”
Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.
And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.
Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#james barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you
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I'm once again getting overly philosophical over horror movies, so here's a study of the death angels from A Quiet Place as observed by a very enthusiastic animal loving veterinarian.
Every time people talk about death angels, it is, understandably, about how violent they are. These creatures are brutal and merciless, and will tear apart anything that makes too much noise. Hence the title of the movie.
Death angels are frankly terrifying, and show no empathy towards the creatures of the planet they invaded. No living thing is safe from them.
... so here's why they COULD be--
Look. Death angels are simply not suited for our planet. It's a noisy, chaotic place full of noisy, chaotic animals. From humans, to raccoons, to birds, to cats, nearly everything in our world is a potential trigger for a noise sensitive animal such as these.
But that's exactly what they are. Animals. And no one seems to remember that fact. People talk about them as though they themselves are sentient, anthropomorphic monsters, but the way these creatures act mimic many real life animals. Animals that don't belong here, but are trying to survive here. On a noisy planet covered in water, which they despise and cannot swim in.
Death angels are completely blind by nature, as seen in many other creatures such as cavefish, moles, and my personal favourite, the olm. Due to a lack of sight, they very clearly use echolocation in the film, to scan their surroundings and... well, not get dead. But echolocation is far from their only tool, as their ears are the strongest asset they have.
Their ears are INCREDIBLY sensitive. Just the slight ticking of an egg timer when heard from their perspective in the first film, is like a pounding drum in their ear. This is fine in a naturally quiet planet, but if a very subtle tick is that loud, then imagine the rest of the noise. Screaming. Explosions. Crashing. Little toy planes. Holy CRAP, that's gotta hurt.
Sounds that loud would definitely cause extreme hearing problems from pressure over time, and easily result in lifelong illnesses and disabilities such as deafness, infection, and so forth, if not stopped. It's going to be painful. It's literally bursting their ear drums inside their heads, and you can't explain to an animal why it hurts. You cannot rationalise with wildlife about treatment and self care. An injured and scared animal is always going to turn hostile, no matter how docile they may be normally. You can't explain to a lion with a knife in it's belly that you can stop the pain if it just doesn't attack you. You can't explain to a death angel that it needs to go somewhere more isolated instead of just destroying the source of the noise to shut it up.
Going to backtrack here a sec. Remember how I mentioned echolocation being another asset this creature has? Which means the slightest movement, the tiniest breath, can immediately allow you to be seen by it. With ears that good, too? It can see you from ages away. It knows you're there. Which means they DON'T attack for sport.
'Evil' is a concept rarely seen in nature. Yes, a lot of humans can be evil. And yes, many creatures can be too. Animals hunt for sport as well. Cats, for example! Although even then, I wouldn't describe it as evil. Calling the death angels evil implies they're attacking out of malicious intent, which just isn't true. In moments of panic, they'll destroy. But they are fully aware of humans around them.
Humans need to breathe, and can't stay perfectly still very easily. The death angels would be able to see our main cast at several points, even when they're being quiet. They don't attack whenever they locate a sign of life. For example, the scene in the basement. Being that close, whether the water was running or not, that alien absolutely would've heard Evelyn and the baby's sharp breaths. It didn't care. It was clicking at them almost curiously before it heard the bang of the silo, to which it ditched them to stop the sound.
This scene is a great example of why they don't kill for sport. Injured and young animals are especially easy prey for a creature built so strong and nimble. Evelyn is shown to be terrified of the mere presence of this thing, but it never actually does anything in the scene. It moves about. Ignores her movements in the flooding water. Investigates the baby. Clicks curiously at her while she backs away. It moves slowly and on all fours, when we know while aggressive, they will stand up on their hind legs (unless sprinting) and move very fast.
This implies it was in... well, not a submissive position, but a nonthreatening one. It wasn't baring it's teeth (as best it could), it had it's claws tucked up and unused, and was in no way in a primed-to-attack mentality. Until the silo made a loud bang. And even then, it could've quickly sliced up the two in the basement before running off, but it DIDN'T. It just left, without a moment of hesitation.
Let's also acknowledge the anatomy.
This is a carnivore. With sharp teeth for ripping apart prey, sharp claws for defence, and thick armour for protection from it's natural climate, as well as strong, long legs for running, this is absolutely a meat eater. The fact it's so well equipped makes me wonder if their natural prey is just as dangerous as them, which is why they have such tough skin. Or if they themselves have something above them in the food chain.
They seem to be pack animals, as usually others aren't far behind when one is about. Such as the trio by the Abbott house, the few at the docks, the ones by Emet's hideout, and even that group sliding down the building in the Day One clip I keep seeing as a gif. With their knack for running included, I wonder if they function like lions? Blending into their environment back home, clicking to hear prey, then the whole pack going on the chase when their target is vulnerable, in a way.
I got distracted. My point was, in a year, all the bodies from past victims vanished. All those people in the town who were swiped left and right just vanished from the town. They couldn't have decomposed in such short time, which means something moved them when it was safe. Something like a carnivore needing food after it felt comfortable in the silent aftermath. The argument that they do it for sport is one I see all the time, and it's just not true.
Everything needs to eat. Carnivores need to eat. Animals need to protect themselves from suspected danger. They never eat on screen because whenever they're on screen, they're surrounded by noise and are DISTRESSED. Have you ever had a sick pet? Most of the time, it won't eat when it's ill because it's too stressed, uncomfortable or in too much pain. When having their ear drums assaulted, a death angel isn't going to sit down with a cup of tea and a grilled cheese. Also, I won't add it because there's blood, but in the scene with the old man screaming in the woods, after it attacks, you can actually see it go back on all fours and sniff about the aftermath, like a hungry predator catching prey to eat. This was probably the first and currently only on screen proof of my claim.
By all means, not all animals are meant to be tamed. Jordan Peele's Nope said that best. Yet I can't help but wonder about the individual. Every animal is completely unique. Some will tolerate more than others. Due to their realistic nature and the similarities to actual animals, in specific circumstances, could they be befriended?
Anyway keep an eye out for A Quiet Place 4 where someone has a pet one that wears doggy ear protectors and accepts meat in exchange for pets-- /j
#this is a very roundabout way of saying I want to pet the lizard cats#they can purr they are CATS#.../hj#anyway I do genuinely find them very interesting to study as if they were real creatures#I hope we get more insight into them in Day One#especially considering it adds Frodo to the mix#so we'd already be studying one species' adaption to their being on earth#the opportunity to compare natures is RIGHT THERE#I'm hoping 🤞#a quiet place#a quiet place part ii#a quiet place day one#death angel#death angels#long post#zoology#I guess#maybe#let me have this I'm an animal nerd AND a horror nerd#tw gif warning#tw horror#analysis
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Cake or Cookies
A good round of sexy texting during girls’ night leads to sexy personal time when Bucky gets home.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Reader
Warnings/Promises: food mention, descriptions of injuries (canon-level), dirty talk, sexting, SMUT, oral (both receiving), implied further smut
Word Count: 3080
Note: They can pry the Avenger Apartment/Tower from my cold dead hands. Everything’s fine, everyone is fine; what trauma? Why can’t we have nice things? I went hunting through some of my lost prompts and found a couple to squeeze together. Happy reading!
Girls’ night in the Tower was bound to be dangerous. It was usually when Natasha came up with the next round of pranks to play on the boys. And when Wanda took it upon herself to create the best pillow fort to watch movies in. Her magic made it easy to pile the couch pillows and blankets into what looked more like a cozy cave than a fort. And Maria kept track of where to find any films not already stored in Stark’s library.
You were in charge of snacks. Drinks were cozy only: tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. Alcohol parties were for other nights. Snacks ranged anywhere from home-made chips to hors d'oeuvres (fancy and simply indulgent), to the smorgasbord of mass produced favorite snacks you raided from the corner bodega. But you were stumped when it came to tonight’s desserts. The bodega’s sweet treats were present, cheap candy and the like, but you were stuck between the roll of cookie dough and a box mix for cupcakes.
Stumped, you didn’t acknowledge the warm body that ghosted up behind you until a hand slid across your waist. “It’s girls’ night. What are you still doing here?” Sitting down the treats, you turned in Bucky’s arms and scratched your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
He lightly kissed your forehead. “Needed a break from Tony. Can you blame me?”
“Not at all.”
You both inhaled deeply, cheek to cheek. The last mission had been a rough one. Most of the team had come back banged up. And you still had a nasty scrape of road burn up one leg. Which is why you were wearing the equivalent of biker shorts. Pepper had gotten them for you sometime after the social media trend of those leggings ladies liked to tease their S.O’s with. They were surprisingly supportive of your form. You usually wore them underneath your gear because they were borderline indecent. But, with one of Bucky’s oversized shirts covering your figure, nobody had commented.
Except for Bucky as he slid his hands down your body to rest over the curve of your ass.
“I thought these stayed out of sight?”
You teased a glance up at him. “Usually, yes. But It’s girls’ night. We all wear the equivalent of our pajamas since you boys will be out. You are all going out, right?”
He nodded. “Yes. Eventually.” But he didn’t move. He hugged you closer, brazenly tilting your head to one side with his nose so he could kiss the underside of your jaw.
“Y/L/N!” Natasha waved from the living room. “Are we ready to go, or what?”
A smile spread across your face. You lightly pushed Bucky away, making him whine. Natasha was already starting the voting poll for the evening’s movies when you turned back to the counter. “I’ve got to bake before the party starts. Do you have a preference for what sweets you’d like to be left over? Cookies or cupcakes?”
Bucky pressed up behind you, resting his large hands on the counter on either side of you, and griding his front into your ass. “Cookies. There’s enough cake in this kitchen already.” He slapped your ass, following with both his hands taking tight squeezes of your flesh.
As you gasped, he rushed out. The wink he shot you from the door warned you that the tease would not be the evening’s last.
Fifteen minutes later, the cookies were out, the movie was in, and everyone was settled into their favorite pile of pillows.
Five minutes into the movie, the texting started.
Lover Boy <3: “How’s the movie?”
You rolled your eyes as you turned your phone on silent. If Okoye heard your phone again, you’d never get it back. “We’re watching Magic Mike. So… It’s going well.” You added a smiley face with its tongue sticking out for good measure.
Bucky’s messages popped up every few minutes. You kept your phone screen towards you to see the notification light up your screen without bothering the other women.
Lover Boy <3: “Should I be jealous?”
You: “Nah. Their gyrating doesn’t do it for me.”
Lover Boy <3: “Good to know.”
Lover Boy <3: “Is there anything in the movie that does ‘do’ it for you?”
You smothered a chuckle into your blanket. Each passing second that you took to come up with a teasing reply was surly wreaking havoc on your man.
You: “Maybe. Who wants to know?”
His reply was slow in coming. When it did, you almost fumbled your phone into the floor.
Lover Boy <3: *image incoming*
The picture you received was of Bucky’s hand resting on the top of his thigh. They were out to dinner somewhere, the edge of the table blocking your photo view from the rest of the guys. In the curve between his forefinger and thumb, his bulge was the center of attention. You stuck a sucker in your mouth to cover up your gasp. But the other ladies were too busy hooting for the first dance scene to notice.
You: “Just him? I must be slipping. Especially since I thought you really liked my shorts earlier.”
Lover Boy <3: “I like those shorts because I like taking them off. Girls night got in the way.”
You: “You’ve got to come home sometime.”
Lover Boy <3: “Then what do you have in mind?”
You turned off the flash for your camera and waited for the TV screen to illuminate your face. Sucker holding down your tongue, you sneaked the pic. Before any of the girls could see and tease you. While it sent, you sucked on the round sugar treat. You imagined Bucky’s cockhead on your tongue, as you knew he would too. His reply came in seconds.
Lover Boy <3: “Minx”
You: “And?”
Lover Boy <3: “When I do get home, I’m going to taste something sweeter. All night long.”
Lover Boy <3: “If you can handle it.”
Biting your lip, you smiled into your blanket.
You: “We both know what I can handle. But can you handle what I want to do to you?”
You: “Bet I can blow you so good you forget how to speak Russian before morning.”
You: “Actually, bet I can make you forget all your languages.”
Lover Boy <3: “An official bet?”
Now it was dangerous territory. Neither of you would wager anything that would show in public. Or bring attention from the team inside the tower. But Bucky’s winnings had a steep cost on your ability to walk the next day. Yours usually meant him taking a few days off to spend time together in some distant cabin.
You: “Do we have time to disappear to the Rockies when I win?”
Lover Boy <3: “We just finished a mission. I’m sure I can convince Steve to leave us alone… at least for several nights in a row when I win.”
It was on.
He played dirty by escaping to the bathroom to shoot you a picture of his cock. It was already thick for you, proud and flushed in his palm.
You also escaped. But the picture you sent didn’t require you to take your clothes off. All you did was tug down the front of his borrowed shirt, and splay your fingers wide between your breasts.
You: “Can’t wait to squeeze you between these.”
Lover Boy <3: “9hey now…”
Good. His texting was already stumbling.
You: *picture incoming*
All you did was rest your hand over your throat. But Bucky’s reply of a bunch of scrambled letters made you laugh. You returned to the movie.
You: “Can’t wait for you to get home. But we’ve got about 3 more hours of movies to watch. Think you can last that long?”
Lover Boy <3: “If I have to. Might have to take care of myself before then.”
Wanda looked over as you squirmed in your seat.
You: “You can’t wait for me? I’ll wait for you.”
When the movie lit up enough, you took a picture of the pillow between your thighs.
Lover Boy <3: “Promise?”
You: “Say please.”
His reply, despite the distance between text and actually hearing his voice, dripped with promise. You bit your lip, hearing his growl in your head.
Lover Boy <3: “Since when do get to make the demands around here?”
Lover Boy <3: “Please.”
You: “Since I’m home. Away from the consequences of mouthing off at you till later.”
Lover Boy <3: “You’re not sharing this conversation with the ladies are you? You’re not usually this… sassy.”
You: “This sass is rated E for everyone. But, no. This conversation is just between us.”
You: “I have to stop texting. Natasha is beginning to notice.”
Lover Boy <3: “Until I get my hands on you:”
It was several minutes until you checked your phone, waiting for the others to drop their questioning looks. When you did, you had to smother your moan. He sent one last picture of his tongue out between his fingers. A promise of delectable problems to come.
***
Somebody texted the guys when the movies were almost over. They arrived halfway through you girls cleaning up.
“How was the double feature?” Tony asked. He snagged a remaining hors d'oeuvres off the tray before Maria could stick it in the fridge.
You didn’t hear the reply. All you could focus on was how lust-blown Bucky’s eyes were as he stared you down from the other side of the room. You pressed your thighs together. If the way your chest heaved was any indication, you were in for a long night. Steve barely gave you a glance when you walked past him. Bucky gliding past made him give your departure a second look.
The hallway to your room was dark. The lights that illuminated the floor wouldn’t engage fully unless there was an emergency. Which meant that your shadow was faded against the wall. And it was fractured into several clusters of shadows at reach installation. You didn’t look back. It was part of the game. You couldn’t hear him, but sometimes you could have sworn your shadows had an extra layer.
When you reached for your door handle, another hand beat you to it. Bucky pressed up behind you, pushing you into the room and pinning you to the inside of the door as he locked it. He slid his knee between your legs. Fascinated, he enjoyed the show as you slid the apex of your thighs across the muscle he gave you. He stopped your movements with a hand on your hip, while the other lifted your wrists above your head.
“Did you actually wait, or was that a tease?” He reached into your shorts, groaning to find your slick there. While you trembled, he loudly sucked his middle finger into his mouth. “Oh, ангел, I am going to ruin you. For teasing me like you did.”
“You – you started it. Technically.”
He brought one of your hands down to rest over the front of his pants. “Maybe. But you laid down the gauntlet. How do you want to do this?”
With a grin, you wriggled out of his grasp. You walked backwards towards your bed. Bucky stalked slowly after you. Turning, you ran your hands down your sides, to your hips. And back to the curve of your ass. “Cake?” You smoothed your hands up from your rear to your breasts. “Or cookies?”
Bucky groaned. “The whole damn bakery if I can get my hands on it.” He guided you onto the bed, crawling over you in a way that stole your breath. When you tried to roll him onto his back to begin the challenge, he chuckled. “Nuh-uh. Challenger goes second.”
“But-“
He silenced you with a kiss. As he deepened it, hands kneading into your flesh and removing your clothes, your rebuttal died on your tongue. He barely pulled back enough to remove his own clothes. It wasn’t long before he was working his mouth down your body, kissing and sucking and nipping at your skin until he made it to your sex.
Sometimes part of the challenge included a timer. Like that one gala when he dared you steal away with him during Tony’s speech, and cum before the ending round of applause. With his head buried under your dress, he won with enough time to participate in the applause for a speech you didn’t give a damn about. You didn’t find out till later that Steve had kept track of when you two disappeared and reappeared. Bucky wrote the time on your bathroom mirror as the time to beat. It had yet to be broken.
Tonight wasn’t one of those times. There was all the time in the world. All night to edge or overstimulate each other to your hearts’ content.
Breathing warm air over your sex, his grin between your thighs sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin. You weren’t sure which was more disarming: his knowledge of your body and its sweet spots that he could make you cum in minutes, or that same knowledge used to bliss you out over hours till you couldn’t remember more than screaming his name. With his tongue, he began the challenge. As if you weren’t soaked already, he made a mess of you. Curling his fingers through your folds. Delving his tongue deep in search of the ability to taste you for days. When he scraped his teeth across your clit, the electricity tightened your fingers in his hair.
He wasn’t drawing this out. A man on a mission, Bucky was doing everything he could to bring you to the brink as fast as he could. The speed that you hurtled toward release stole your breath. That was his plan. Shock you while trying to beat his time so that you wouldn’t be able to speak. And then he’d win double the bragging rights.
And, damn him, it might just work.
Hungrily, he slurped up your pleasure. Adding a third finger to his onslaught, he curled them all to make you see stars. His metal arm flashed out to pin down your hips before you could arch away from him. The metal was cold, frigid, against your flushed skin. The difference in temperature was enough of an overload to your sparkling nerves that your eyes screwed shut. You babbled a series of sounds, making Bucky hum in delight.
But when he came up for air, gently stroking your folds to ease you down, you surprised him.
“Is that all you got, Barnes?”
“Fuck. Seriously?” He rested his cheek against the inside of your thigh.
You did your best to steady your breath. No point in revealing those six words were all you could manage. After another moment, you curled your own finger. You summoned him to hover over you, dangling his dog-tags in your face. Catching one between your teeth, you gripped and pushed his shoulders until he was on his back.
It was your turn to kiss down his body. Across his collar bone and pecs. Down that center chasm between his abs. From one hip bone, down his V, and up to the other side. As you took his length in hand, you had to smile. The poor man should have let you pleasure him first, instead of torturing himself and his cock with waiting. Gently, you circled your thumb around his tip. It dragged a groan out between his teeth. Good. The more vocal he was, the better you could track his ability to speak. Or lack thereof.
You set the challenge into the back of your mind and got to work in pleasing your man.
The first movements were gentle. And careful around how sensitive he was. Still, each touch and twist kept his voice active. He tried to watch you, but kept dropping his head back in pleasure as you quickened your movements. While he was laid back, you shifted your position.
His head snapped up, and he cursed loudly in Russian as his cock was enveloped between your breasts.
Darting out your tongue, you kitten licked the tip of his cock when it came into range. It gave you no small pleasure to watch your man, the Winter Soldier and former Commando, fall to pieces because of you. He cursed louder in English, Russian, and… was that German? But the more you jerked him between your breasts, the more his vocabulary scrambled together. You waited patiently. His metal hand twitched towards to before fisting the sheet. His flesh hand reached back for the pillows, sheets, headboard. Anything to ground himself. Then you struck. You let go of your breasts and dipped low enough to swallow him down. He roared as he bumped the back of your throat. Planting his feet on the bed, his thighs trembled with keeping himself from thrusting into your mouth.
That was fine. You moved enough for the both of you. And, just as his Russian was little more than the most strained of curses, you settled his balls into one hand, and slid the other up his torso. Your nails lightly caught his skin over his heaving breaths.
The high-pitched hiss from the depths of his lungs was your only warning before he filled your mouth.
Your ministrations slowed. You took every ounce of his pleasure, and smiled around his cock as you sucked your way off his length.
He dragged you up to bury his face in the crook of your neck. His lips trembled while trying to say something. Anything. But all he could do was pant into your skin.
You smiled. And kissed the underside of his jaw. While you both recovered, you murmured gentle reassurances between breaths.
“You cheated,” he finally managed.
“Oh? When did I manage that?”
Running his fingers through his hair, he stared you down. “Those damn shorts.”
With a laugh, you nipped at his chest. “What? You did get to take them off, like you wanted. And I can’t help it if you decided to run your hands all over me and get yourself hard. It jazzed me up too. So, in my mind, we’re even.”
“Fine.” He tilted up your face to kiss you. Mumbling against your lips, he complained, “you’re using alotta words there, ангел.”
“And you’re still capable of Russian.”
Bucky grinned. “Then I guess this challenge isn’t done.”
And it wasn’t until long into the night.
***
Ангел: angel
***
Masterlist
Marvel Masterlist
#bucky barnes x reader#curvy!reader#bucky barnes smut#avengers smut#marvel smut#bucky barnes fluff#reader insert#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes x female reader
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Dancing Spies
Pairing: Bucky x gn!Reader
Words: 900
Summary: You and Bucky are undercover at a ball and he’s not ready to let go of you.
Warnings: Reader is mentioned to have hair + height implied to be shorter than Bucky. Idc how tall you are, you're 6 feet? OK well in this universe Bucky is 7ft, etc lol. No use of y/n.
A/N: IM BACK BABY! Ok not really lmao this was 90% written since April 2022 (holy shit over a year before I even started posting here.) As always, sorry it’s short, sorry if it sucks, but also I’m not that sorry if it sucks because it’s short so it’s not like I’m wasting hours of your time. Idk if anyone is even going to read this.
Also: special thanks to @questionableratatouille00 for being so patient and kind to me. ❤️
divider cred: @saradika
“I didn’t realize you could dance,” you mumbled into his ear as you stepped in time to the soft music.
“Well, there wasn’t that much to do in the 30’s,” Bucky adjusted his grasp on your waist to be more comfortable, “with, y’know, the Great Depression and everything.”
“Ah, yes, a time of great prosperity, wasn’t it?”
“Definitely.” He gave a short chuckle, and continued to gaze around at the other couples dancing around him. He wasn’t avoiding your gaze—he was simply doing his job. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself.
A sweet chorus of piano and violin flew through the air, enchanting the large group of people into following in time. Despite his watchful eyes lingering upon the room for the past ten minutes, he couldn’t tell you any details.
How many couples were there? What was everyone wearing? How big was the dance hall? He could only guess, as his mind was solely focused on his steps, and the person in front of him: how close you stood next to him, how he could smell the faintest scent of lavender from your hair, how your hand sat so tenderly upon his shoulder, and how he wished he could take his gloves off so he could get a better feel of your gentle hand intertwined with his right.
“How much longer, do you think?” you whispered.
“M’ not sure. Until Steve gives the signal, which could be anywhere from now to twenty minutes.” He only allowed himself a quick glance of you as he twirled you outward and back in.
“I doubt it’ll be twenty minutes. I think ten is more reasonable.”
“It could be twenty,” he argued.
“That would be way too long, there’s too much risk in that.”
“Twenty minutes is fine. There’s nothing wrong with twenty minutes.”
Sensing you were looking at him, he met your gaze.
Your eyebrow was slightly arched, and you gave him a small look of confusion at his strange… passion. Nevertheless, you dropped it, deciding not to question him.
He felt a slight tug of guilt at his heart for acting weird, but truthfully, he simply hoped this moment wouldn’t end. It felt right. He didn’t want to accept that it could be over so soon.
Naturally, as if the entire room was choreographed, everyone slowed as the song ended, and another started. This song was even slower than the last, and couples pulled each other close accordingly.
You and Bucky did the same.
Bucky’s breath hitched at the closer proximity, and he prayed you couldn’t feel his rapid heartbeat now that you were practically chest to chest, and both your arms were wrapped around his shoulders as his rested on your waist.
“Hey Bucky,” you said so quietly, it was barely a whisper.
“Yes?”
“I get that you’re trying to be alert, but you need to stop looking behind me. It’s not natural.”
His cheeks flushed at your comment, though he wasn’t entirely sure why.
“Yeah, okay.” He hesitantly looked down and met your welcoming eyes.
“Better,” you softly smiled.
He curtly nodded.
They continued to slowly sway along with the music. But the tune only served as white noise for him as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Luckily, you hadn’t caught him staring, since you had placed your cheek onto his chest, nuzzling into the warmth.
He liked that you felt safe with him. Safe enough to rest your head on him. Safe enough to let him hold you with both hands, and not cower at what those hands had once done.
His shoulders relaxed at the sound of a soft sigh from your lips.
“Comfortable?” He leaned his head down slightly to whisper into your ear.
“Mhm.” You confirmed.
“Tired?” He breathily laughed, seeing your eyes closed.
“Only a little,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes shut.
He was content with where he was. It wasn’t the most familiar feeling for him, but he liked it.
His thoughts were no longer focused on the mission(not that they ever really were—the second he found out that the two of you were meant to be a couple dancing on the main floor, he was distracted by you and the possibilities of what would happen,) and he remained focused on you. Your soft and slowing exhales, the affection you spawned in his chest, and how beautiful your hair looked.
Seeing you at peace, put him at peace.
He could feel himself smiling as he watched you. His tongue flicked over his lips like it always does when he’s about to make a decision. He started to lean his head down to rest on top of your head when he paused.
Is this a good idea?
Screw it.
He rested his chin ever so carefully on your head, and couldn’t hold back his growing smile when you made no effort to move.
“I wish this was real life,” you sighed. “No more fighting. Just dancing.”
Motion from above caught his attention. Steve tipped his hat—the signal.
Bucky just looked back. He continued to sway with you, shielding you from the outside world with his chest.
Steve, slightly taken aback at his friend’s lack of action, tipped his hat twice more.
Bucky subtly shook his head and returned his gaze to you.
“Have we gotten the signal yet?” You murmured, eyes still closed.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Let’s just dance.”
If you liked it pls let me know so I know I'm not just screaming into the void.
photo credit
#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky x gn!reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x gn!reader#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot
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Hello ! May I request some angst 🥹 You and Sylus are fwb but you love him and later you catch sylus and mc having sex and you leave and he regrets it? Whether they get together or not up to you !
tags-angst no comfort,sylus pov,implied suicide
word count 1.8k
(note-if I went a little off script and you want me to rewrite pls lmk anon,when I get the creative freedom of an ending I always get so excited lol!🥹)
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You’d spent weeks trying to gather the courage to finally tell Sylus how you felt. What started as a casual arrangement had turned into something far more intense for you, with every moment, every stolen glance and every word he spoke weaving tighter knots around your heart. Tonight was the night you planned to tell him everything, to lay it all out and see if he felt even a fraction of the same.
You rehearsed the words over and over in your head on the way to his office, holding onto a shaky hope that maybe he, too, had noticed the subtle shift between you. As you walked down the corridor, anticipation and anxiety blurred together, making your pulse quicken with every step.
But when you finally arrived and opened the door to his office, everything you’d imagined, everything you’d hoped, shattered in an instant.
Sylus was there but he wasn’t alone.
The scene before you was like a punch to the gut, one that left you breathless and frozen. He was with the very woman he’d once told you not to worry about, the so-called “hunter girl” and they were wrapped up in each other, utterly absorbed, not even registering your presence. It wasn’t the fact of him being with someone else that hurt—it was that he was with her, here, in a place that had once felt like it was partly yours, and he didn’t even look at you.
A cold wave of realization washed over you, tinged with humiliation and pain. You’d come here with a heart full of hope and he hadn’t even noticed.
When Sylus finally glanced your way, there was no apology in his eyes, no explanation, not even the courtesy of a break in his actions. He looked at you almost dismissively, a fleeting glance, as if you were nothing more than an inconvenience and then, with a coldness you never thought you’d see, he turned his attention back to her, ignoring you completely.
In that moment, you felt something break inside of you, a part of yourself you couldn’t repair. A thousand emotions flooded through you—anger, sadness, shame. The weight of unspoken words, of all the feelings you’d held back, now felt like a burden you could barely carry.
Stumbling backward, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. The realization that you meant so little to him, that he could simply disregard you like this, was a hurt that went deeper than words could express and as you left, the door closing softly behind you, you promised yourself you’d never let anyone make you feel this small, this inconsequential, again.
Sylus hadn’t planned for it to be this way. A part of him knew he was treading on dangerous ground the moment he let things go this far with the hunter girl, a lingering decision he could already feel weighing on his conscience. But he had convinced himself it was fine, that it didn’t mean anything—and most importantly, that you’d never find out.
But when he glanced up and saw you standing there, his heart sank.
The shock on your face, the confusion—it struck him in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He cursed internally. Of all days, why did it have to be today? Why did you have to see him like this, at his worst? A flicker of regret crossed his mind as he realized the full extent of what this would do to you. He could tell, even from a distance, that your heart was breaking in real-time.
For a split second, he wanted to call out, to explain, to reach for you. But guilt held him back, keeping him rooted in place. He’d never seen you look so vulnerable, so defeated and in his mind, he could already feel the words he’d rehearsed to you, the subtle hints he’d dropped over time—words that, he now realized, had only served to deepen your trust in him. That trust, something he had taken for granted, was slipping through his fingers.
When he looked away to continue the kiss and passion with that hunter woman, it wasn’t because he didn’t care; it was because he couldn’t bear to look at the pain in your eyes,he knew no matter what in this very moment he couldn’t possibly have the correct words to say.
It’s been a day since you’d walked in on him and yet, the scene keeps replaying haunting your mind. You hadn’t meant to purposely walk into his office unannounced; you’d only come by to tell him the truth—that maybe, just maybe, what you felt for him wasn’t so casual anymore. But the second you opened that door and saw him tangled with her, every thought, every word you had planned to say, fell silent.
The memory of it echoes in you. His indifference, the way he’d looked away when he finally noticed you standing there, stunned. He didn’t say a word, didn’t reach out. It was as if you were invisible.
You’d always told yourself you could handle this. You’d always told yourself that this was just a fling, something fleeting. But here you were, alone in your apartment, the reality settling in like a weight in your chest. You’d lost something in that room—something you’d never get back.
It feels like a betrayal, not just from him but from yourself. You’d let him into places in your heart that you’d sworn would stay locked. You’d shared things, vulnerable moments, pieces of yourself that you couldn’t take back. You’d given him everything—everything that mattered.
A soft, cold wind moves through the open window as you sit there, tears slipping down your cheeks. The city lights blur outside and somewhere in the haze of pain, you make a promise to yourself: no one would ever make you feel this small, this broken, again.
You reach for a pen, feeling the sharp tip against your skin as you press down, writing a reminder on your wrist. It’s a small vow but it feels like a lifeline. No one else will ever be given the power to hurt you this way. Not again. You’ll keep that vow to yourself, protecting your heart from the world outside.
The pen trembles slightly in your hand, heavier than it has ever felt before. But this is no ordinary pen; it's a relic of quiet promises and unspoken pains. Not just a tool for writing, it becomes an instrument, a bridge between the ache in your chest and the words you're too afraid to say out loud.
As you press it against your wrist, it's as if you're pouring everything unsaid into that red ink. The curve of each letter, the way it bites into your skin-it's a reminder, a vow you're making to yourself, a way to draw strength from this hurt. It's not just ink staining your skin; it's the permanence of a promise to guard what's left of your heart, a declaration that no one will be allowed to leave marks on your soul again.
The act is delicate yet deliberate, like the slow drag of the pen is creating a map of the pain you've endured, and perhaps the resilience that will follow. You feel the chill of the ink settling on your skin, mingling with the warmth of your blood beneath and the pain sharpens into clarity.
For the first time, in this quiet moment, you realize that the pen has become more than just a promise,It's a knife full of promises sinking into your skin;you’ll never hurt get hurt again from this world that once took so much without asking.
Sylus stares at his phone, frustration gnawing at him as he watches the screen flash with another unanswered call. He’s tried five times already but each time, the phone rings and rings, only to be met with silence. His fingers hover over the screen, ready to dial again, but his hesitation claws at him.
The image of your face keeps flashing in his mind. The look of shock, the raw pain in your eyes—it’s all he can see. It’s like a punch to the gut, one he can’t escape. He’s always been able to maintain control, to keep things casual but in that moment, when he saw the hurt in your eyes, the walls he’d so carefully built around his emotions shattered.
What the hell was he thinking? He thought he could keep things light, just a hook-up, no strings attached. But the guilt—God, it weighs on him like a hundred-pound anchor. He knows you never asked for anything more but the reality of how he treated you after everything—that—had started to gnaw at him. The hurt on your face, that unmistakable sting of betrayal, it’s all he can think about.
Sylus knows he’s not supposed to care. He’s supposed to be fine with this arrangement. But he’s not fine and it’s terrifying, because he’s never let anyone have that kind of effect on him before. But now, all he can feel is the burning ache in his chest, the overwhelming need to hear your voice, to apologize, to explain that he fucked up.
Why aren’t you answering?
He grits his teeth and stands up, pacing around the room, phone clutched in his hand as if it holds the key to fixing this mess.
He doesn’t know what happened. He thought he could just be selfish, just have you, keep you close in his life the way he wanted, without the mess of feelings. But you—you, with your eyes full of trust and warmth—somehow slipped past his defenses.
He needs you to hear him. He needs to tell you that he feels something more than what you agreed on. He just doesn’t know how. He’s never been one to show vulnerability, to let someone see how much they mean to him and yet, for some reason, when it comes to you, he knows he’s lying to himself.
Sighing heavily, he presses the phone to his ear again, dialing your number once more. The ringing sounds so much louder this time and with each ring, his frustration builds. Come on. Pick up. Please pick up.
But the call goes to voicemail and his shoulders slump in defeat. He leans back against the wall, staring at the phone in his hand, fingers curling around it tightly.
He can’t keep pretending this is okay. He can’t keep pretending it’s just physical. The feeling in his chest has become too strong and it’s not something he can ignore anymore.
His thumb hovers over the screen, typing a message that feels too raw, too honest to send. But he does it anyway.
“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you. Please just pick up the phone and let me explain”
The words feel insufficient, like nothing more than a weak attempt to fix everything that’s broken. But it’s all he can offer.
He throws the phone down on the couch, pacing again, this time with a much heavier heart. It’s the first time in a long while that Sylus feels like he’s lost control of the situation. And it terrifies him.
Now, all he can do is wait.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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You tried to steal my daughter so I'm stealing your mother!
I have finally done it! This is Alastor's mother x Lucifer (Fem!Reader, as implied) Part 2!
It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least… It was another normal day in hell. Or… as normal as it could get, at least…
You were with everyone, at the hotel. Though everyone, except a few people, seemed to be in their rooms today. Well, it seemed only natural since Al was in a ‘mood’ again.
Niffty, being the chaotic entity she is, was running around, stabbing bugs and roaches crawling around when Lucifer came by.
“It’s the ultimate bad boy!!!” She exclaimed running towards him, ignoring all the bugs left.
He had to fly up into the air to get away from her!
“Dad? What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, entering the lobby as she heard the… commotion.
“Charlie! Get this demon away from me!”
“We’re all demons here”
“Yes, but… she! She is a nightmare!”
You were in the corner, naturally, Alastor clinging to you. The two of you were simply watching everything unfold.
“Calm down, dad! It’s not like she bites”
“YET! Do you even see those teeth?”
“Al, could you…?” Charlie turned to the two of you, pointing at Niffty, bringing Lucifer’s attention to you, in the process.
Alastor scowled, or so you thought, as he kept that grin on his face.
“Not possible! Niffty is a free soul!”
“You literally own her soul!”
“I may own her soul but that doesn’t mean she gets no liberty!~”
“Please?”
Alastor hugged you tighter, you petting him, ignoring Charlie.
“Alastor, darling, could you do something about Niffty for me?” You intervened, looking at him.
“But Mother, Lucifer is more than capable of dealing with it himself!”
“You wouldn’t do it for me?”
“…Fine. Niffty step away from Lucifer.” He rolled his eyes as he said Lucifer’s name.
Fortunately enough, Niffty grumbled something and picked up her dagger, going back to killing roaches, very reluctantly.
Lucifer landed back on the ground and walked over to you and Al, pushing him off of you and hugging you instead.
“Hello, my dear! It has been so long!”
“Luci! It’s only been a few days”
“Mother, what do you mean ‘a few days’? I thought you haven’t seen him for at least a few months?”
“Oh, right… you- hm… yeah, I forgot to tell you, darling”
“Yes, that’s because she’s been sneaking out to see ME whilst you’re busy!~” Lucifer spoke, really only adding fuel to the fire… you could tell they’d probably be at each others throats if you didn’t, somehow… get them away from each other.
“Uhh… Dad!” Charlie frantically waved, getting in between them. A perfect distraction!
“Yes, Charlie?”
“I… uh… um… I need help with something!”
“What do you need… help… with?”
“Just… just something in the hotel! Right [Name]?!”
“Why are you bringing me into this?”
She looked at you pleadingly, her eyes slightly wide and an awkward smile on her face, lightly looking back and forth between the other two.
“Right! Yes, it’s an urgent matter! Charlie and Lucifer can go deal with that!”
“Yes! Let’s go, Dad!” She exclaimed, slightly jumping and grabbing Lucifer by the arm, dragging him into one of the many hotel corridors.
“Mother.”
“Yess… Alastor?”
“Why would you go out with him when you have me to entertain you!”
“Darling, we already spend lots of time together, and besides, I need to socialize with more than just one demon”
He was quite clearly not too happy about the whole situation but decided to drop it for the time being. You lightly poked his nose, one of his ears twitching at the action.
He was in a slightly better mood after that, having forgotten about Lucifer.
Meanwhile, Charlie was still in the process of trying to convince Lucifer that there was an issue… though she failed, and ultimately, he began heading back to the lobby, he wanted to flirt with you again, of course! What better activity for the King of Hell, himself, than to flirt with his rivals' mother?
Charlie, upon noticing him turning back, ran to the lobby, ahead of him, deciding that she’d try to pull Alastor away from you… though she knew her efforts would most likely prove futile considering how clingy he was to you today.
So she used force.
“Alastorrrr! I have shopping I need to do! Let’s go!”
Alastor seemed almost like a cat in that situation, Charlie pulling him away with all her might, and him trying to get back to you no matter the cost.
“Have a fun time!” You waved to them as she dragged him out the door and down to the main streets.
“What… was that all about?”
"Hm? Oh, Charlie just kidnapped Alastor, it's nothing too serious, he'll probably be back soon"
"With Charlie… right?"
"Probably" you shrugged as Lucifer looked at the door of the hotel, Charlie and Alastor nowhere in sight by now.
"Okayy… well… now that we're alone!~" Lucifer spoke, smugly walking towards you and placing an arm around your shoulder, smirking.
"Are you going to use another one of those absolutely terrible pick-up lines again?"
"You know it! Also, they are not that bad!"
"Oh they absolutely are"
"No, and I can prove it! I have thought of another one specifically for you!"
He chuckled and cleared his throat in preparation.
"Are you a rubber duck? Because I wanna make you squeal!~"
"My point stan-"
"Bow chika wowow!"
You couldn't help but laugh at his interruption, it was quite amusing how hard he tried to impress you sometimes, although it was also quite admirable, in some way.
"Are you-" Lucifer began, when Alastor appeared in between you two, forcing Lucifer off of you.
"I believe that is quite enough of that, haha!"
"What- ok. As I was saying" Lucifer grumbled, stepping to your other side, leaning his arm on your shoulder, getting closer to you once more.
"Hahaha! Mother, Charlie saw quite a wonderful necklace today, I think it would suit you perfectly! Why don't you and I go and get it?" Alastor took your hand and pulled you away from Lucifer, and towards the door.
"Now- now hold on, I was in the middle of something!" Naturally, Lucifer tried to stop the two of you, though to no avail, of course. Alastor simply ignored his attempts.
"Now, listen, Little Bird" Alastor began, turning to Lucifer and stood in a stance that seemed to mock him too.
"I need you to leave us alone so that I can spoil my Mother! You've already had far too much time with her!"
"Too much-?! I had barely ten minutes!"
"My point exactly! That is ten minutes far too long"
"Now hold on, did you call me 'little bird' earlier?!"
"Hmm… I might have"
"I am not a 'little bird'! Have you seen my wings?!"
"I beg to differ, I mean, just look at our height difference, I'd say you are quite little indeed"
"Height has no relevance in this conversation!"
"Oh yes it does!"
"No-"
"Now now, how about you two stop arguing for 5 minutes, at least"
"Unfortunately, I don't think that'll be possible, dear. Alastor and I simply clash too much"
"No, you're just annoying" Alastor replied, looking through building windows, trying to find where the necklace was, as you three had reached town by this point. This may as well be considered a family trip at this point, though Alastor would certainly despise that thought!
"Ah, there it is" he pulled you towards the store window and pointed out the necklace.
"Alastor, let's be nicer, alright?"
"I am plenty nice, Mother, so anyway, what do you think?" he motioned back at the necklace. You had to admit, there was a certain charm to it. The way it was made, made it seem as though it would suit you perfectly!
"I think you were right, it is quite a wonderful necklace. Now, darling, I'd like it if you were nice to Luci too!"
"Yes, I do have a good eye, don't I?" He chuckled, standing proudly as he looked back at Lucifer, who was standing behind the two of you, seemingly planning something.
"Begone, little bird, Mother and I have shopping to do" Alastor said, doing his creepy eye thing, but *just out of your sight as he knew you hated it quite a bit
"Wha- fine, but I will return, Alastor! You best prepare because your mother certainly will be mine!"
#lucifer trying to flirt is crazy#hazbin hotel#reader insert#fem reader#alastor the radio demon#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer#charlie hazbin hotel#charlie morningstar#hazbin charlie#niffty hazbin hotel#niffty#hazbin niffty
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[00:05] | nct mark lee
"You're not behind," it prompts the grip on his forearm to tighten, "but you are tired and you deserve to rest now."
pairing » nct mark lee x gn!reader (fast proofread once - lmk if i missed anything!)
trope/au » established relationship au!, non-idol au!
genre » maximum hurt and comfort because i need someone to do this for me AND IT'S EXAM SEASON FOR MEJSDKFJHDF, mwork is a fluffy boyfriend in these angst times, mark holding you tight and telling you that everything is fine, boyfriend mark lee concerned for your wellbeing, mark letting you rest against his chest
word count, estimated reading time » 1707, ~6 mins
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » reader is stressed with academics, reader hasn't slept in a while, mark implied to be physically bigger and taller
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist🤍 'especially to you...'
HEYYYY HIIII! double update in a month which is very rare for me now 😭 and thanks for beta-ing a long time ago @sohnric !!
i def still love writing but life commitments can get heavy sometimes 🥹 and with that, this one is for everyone who is in exam prep or just having a hard time academically but also just anyone who needs comfort right now! good luck on your studies and commitments everyone! you can do this!! 🫂
with that being said, my first exam is tomorrow and i am tired-
Literally from the side, you hear the door creaking open, the click of its button free from the metal that houses it on its frame. As always, you choose to ignore it even though your heart drops slightly closer to your stomach. You don't dare to tear your eyes away from the document on your screen, choosing to look at the scorching white with your tired, slightly red eyes.
He called out for you but the only thing he's greeted with is your fingers rapidly against your keyboard. Mark is no longer surprised by your dismissive actions, sighing when it seems like the rhythm becomes faster.
Slowly, he approaches your study area, a folded finger rubbing against his eyes in an attempt to blink the tiredness away even if it's just for a little bit. When he's close enough to see what you're working on, he can't help but feel proud of your progress. The title of the document takes him back to just a few days ago when you were crying to sleep in his arms, telling him about how you have no idea and that you have hit a wall in the upcoming assignment that seems to be due so soon.
In reality, it isn't due for two more months, but it's the weighting of the assignment that has you pondering if you can really bear the burden of sleeping when forty per cent of your grade depends on this one paper.
But seeing your hair messy with an overused coffee cup not too far away from the edge of the table, he isn't sure if he would just rather see you cry yourself to sleep or see the obvious dark shadows surrounding your eyes. What he does know right now though, is that you should just rest your whole body after depriving yourself of a whole twenty-four hours with no sleep—slightly more than that now actually.
Mark arrives behind you, the front of his oversized shirt hitting the backseat of your study chair. His arms fall onto your shoulders, slowly massaging your tension away.
"Dinner?" He tests the topic first, genuinely not knowing if you have eaten today as he was busy outside the house.
You respond with a hum, "I promise, I had it." The typing didn't cease as you continued to speak to him, "Go back to bed, Markie."
If only you could turn back to see the face he makes at your dismissive answer. "Can't," he answers simply for now. "Not when I know that you’re out here tired and sleepless."
You know that this is his way of pulling you away from the technology that is keeping you up but you decide to stand your ground, "Just a bit more."
"That's what you've been saying the past half day, bubs."
The specific timeframe is what made your fingers freeze and you tuck all your fingers into your palm except for two, scrolling up towards the start of the document. Reality suddenly sinks into you when it doesn't feel like you scrolled up a lot, but the grey bar on the right side of the screen shows that you reached the top of the document. The wave of exhaustion finally hits and your eyelids suddenly fall instantly. Mark immediately encircles his arms around you, pulling your back to rest against his chest.
It doesn't take him another second to realise that you're silently sobbing in his arms, upper body trembling in shame and disappointment with how time has passed yet no real effort is physically seen to the real world. Mark presses multiple kisses on the top of your head, tightening his hold and whispering words of comfort.
"Mark..." You decide to bury your eyes into Mark's arms, the salty liquid trickling down the safety of his arms. "It feels like time is mocking me right now..."
You've always felt this way. Indeed, time will never wait for anyone or anything, yet as humans, it's ironic that we always wait for the right time. It's annoying and it's infuriating to see the long hand of the clock easily circle while you just sit still and watch it happen.
Mark pulls away only slightly, pulling your seated body out from the table so that he can spin you around to physically put your work behind you. He then kneels in front of you, his hands enveloping yours on top of your lap.
He doesn't say anything at first and doesn't even dare to fully let go of you even when he wipes your tears away from your cheeks. Mark just offers you a smile with the crease between his eyebrows evident, letting you cry out your feelings a little bit more.
"You're doing so well," he affirms his thoughts out loud. "You don't give yourself enough credit for that, so I'm here to remind you every time."
And he does.
Mark Lee has always been great at that even when you were both still friends. You were worried that he only did it when you were both still in the flirting stages too, but four years with Mark Lee and he still says the words sincerely and truthfully. In your darkest times, that's all that you need.
Your legs push your bottoms to the edge of the seat and you practically slump into Mark's embrace as you push the seat rolling away behind you. Your arms swing around Mark's neck for stability, hiding your cries in the crook of his neck.
"I'm tired, Mark..." suddenly the ground felt wobbly, your knees giving out to keep your posture somewhat upright in his hold, “and I feel so dumb.”
Mark quickly refutes with a series of firm shaking of his head, craning his neck just slightly enough to kiss the trail that your tears leave on the apple of your cheeks. You whimper against the touch of his lips and you hate that you’re worrying the person who has proven to you over and over again that he loves you to the moon and back. His black hair fell over his eyes but it’s not hidden enough for you to miss the reassuring glimpse that his orbs gazed you with.
"Your past achievements prove you otherwise as well and I promise you that you’re not.”
And he really means that.
Your tiredness is physically shown further by the way you slump over his figure on the floor. Your knee isn't even supporting you on the ground anymore, slipping you further away from him as the fabric of your longer pants helps you slide on the polished floor to bring you closer to your boyfriend.
Mark supports your weight against his, untucking his legs from under him and spreading them beside your figure. Slowly and gently, he turns you around and sits you properly on the squared patterns. Similar to before, he makes you rest your head against where his heart beats calmly while he leans backwards slightly so that you're more comfortable in his arms around your middle. Your fingers stiffly grip his forearm, mind still clouded by the next paragraph of your work and Mark picks this up.
His eyes drift up to the black font against the white electronic paper. "Tell me the next one." Referring to the idea of your work.
He does this often, repeating the main ideas of your work so that he can store them inside his long-term memory. This way, he can tell it to you tomorrow. His love transcends forgetfulness, his mind jotting down all the main points so that you don't have to go back to doing work without sleep inside your system any longer. Mark gently sways his upper body and the weight of your eyelids becomes more apparent from the hum he lets out.
"But I just don't think I deserve to rest." It feels like the world is too active for you to do so. "I feel like I'm behind all the time."
"You're not behind," it prompts the grip on his forearm to tighten, "but you are tired and you deserve to rest now."
That's all the validation you need. You just needed to hear someone say, with a mellow voice and the beating of their heart that contrasts your erratic ones, that it's alright for you to rest, even if it's for a while. The affirmation that you're doing well is gratefully received, but you just needed someone to tell you that your eyelids can fall for the next few hours on a well-deserved mattress, in a safe place.
Next, your voice box finally releases the tension to the air and Mark Lee alternates between kisses to the side of your face and whispers to the shell of your ear all the words that would make the tension around your body fade.
That's the thing about Mark Lee. He would let you cry it out audibly, not like the ones you would bury your entire face to your pillow, suffocating and gasping for air as you tried to keep the weight on your shoulders to yourself when you were still living alone.
The tears from your eyes are valid and so did the sobs that did the same from your lips. The world blurs due to the remnants of some of the stubborn ones that didn't drop to your tear-stricken cheeks—but it's fine because Mark would always turn his head to you, the side of his fingers brushing on your lower lid, careful to not hurt the orbs that he finds love and security in.
Mark still holds you close throughout the whole time, eventually seeing how your chest gradually decreases its frequency in taking deep breaths.
Exhausted and spent, you managed to whisper, "Thanks, Mark." It's croaked and easy to miss if it wasn't for the proximity that you're both sharing.
"Always." His palm rests on your jawline and he softly turns your head, your ear now on his chest. Mark lands a quick peck on your now slightly upturned lips, "I love you."
"I love you more."
Sleeping is easier for him now that the other side of the mattress is occupied and that he can feel your warmth directly on his skin in a well-deserved resting position.
navi/masterlist!! 🤍 nct dream masterlist 🤍 'especially to you...'
tags: @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @haneul-and-clouds
#k-labels#k-films#bjnet#kstrucknet#mark lee x reader#mark lee x you#mark lee imagines#mark lee angst#mark lee fanfic#nct x you#mark lee fluff#nct imagines#nct x reader#mark lee x y/n#mark lee scenarios#nct dream x reader#nct dream x you#nct dream imagines#nct dream x y/n#nct dream x female reader#nct dream scenarios#nct dream#mark lee x male reader#nct fanfic#mark lee#nct dream fluff
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'suguru daddy kink pls'
What kind of daddies do you reckon the jjk lot would be? Satoru is a soft touch, You may not start off as a brat but his constant spoiling turns you into one.
Suguru? Spoils you too but expects good behaviour in return. Overstep then he's fully prepared to take everything back
tw - implied kidnapping, implied abuse, unbalanced power dynamics, frivolous use of the word 'daddy', and one instance of the petname 'princess' (gender neutral).
hnnnn to be fair, i think satoru could get away with spoiling you just because your brattiness simply,,, will not impact how he treats you. whether you're the best little boy/girl in the world and just so appreciative of everything he does for you or an utter nightmare who can't stand to let your daddy take care of you even for a second, he's still going to buy you pretty jewelry and surround you with cute, fluffy things and make sure you never have to lift a finger - save for when daddy asks you to show him some love, ofc. how you behave only determines whether you get to where the pink leather collar he got you with that adorable silver bell hanging from the d-ring, or the diamond-studded shock collar he keeps in your bedroom for when you're acting more like a untrained puppy than a spoiled princess <3
on the other hand, suguru gets away with spoiling you because you both know that, no matter how much money he spends on you or how much praise he asks for in return, it's always going to be for his sake, not yours. the fine silk lingerie he dresses you in, the army of vibrators and toys he's collected on your behalf, the sweet desserts he brings home and feeds to you by-hand - both of you know that he's only catering to his own tastes, his own pleasure, while yours is never so much as taken into consideration. and, when he does dull out punishments, they're less suited to your offense and more fitted to whatever compromising position he wants he see you in, today. you can still act out if you want to, but it doesn't really matter. so long as you belong to him, you'll be expected to smile, sit pretty, and let daddy do what he wants.
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run to you | lee chan
SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k
notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3
Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"
"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"
Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"
Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.
"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"
"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"
Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"
"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."
"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"
He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."
He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.
All he could think about is you.
Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.
Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.
The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.
He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.
Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.
The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.
"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."
He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.
"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"
You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.
"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.
He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.
"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.
You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."
Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."
You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."
His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"
His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.
"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.
"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."
His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.
Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.
"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.
He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.
"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."
You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.
"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.
The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.
You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.
As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.
The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.
He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.
"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.
You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.
"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."
He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.
He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.
It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.
He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.
"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."
The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.
"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"
"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.
"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.
"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."
The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.
Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"
"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"
Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.
His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.
But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.
Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.
When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.
"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."
"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."
"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.
You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."
Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.
"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."
another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭
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