#I love him so much but every time I describe him he sounds awful

[tearlessrain]

HELLO, I'm going to try and be the chance I want to see in the world, hahaha. So TELL ME PLEASE, who is your favourite swtor OC? And how do you relate them to the story of the game; is it canon for them, do you write/imagine/rp stories for them adjacent to the game or totally divorced from it...?

eeeey thank you for the ask! sorry it's taken me so long to get to it, my brain has not been cooperative on any front this week

I have several I'm very attached to but I'd have to say my favorite is my Imp Agent, Khatte Antilles (pronounced "cat." he's a cathar. I originally made him as a joke character before he developed a personality/backstory and now I just have to live with my choices.)

the fact that I had to go back four years in my art folders to find an image of him suitable for all audiences really tells you all you need to know already tbh

Overall he lines up pretty strongly with the canon basegame Agent story, it was kinda one of those "if it ain't broke don't fix it" situations because I do love the Agent storyline a lot. The headcanons kick in more in the DLC/Alliance zone and in his backstory, and I definitely fiddled with the timeline of things because he was very young for his first mission on Hutta (definitely no older than 20, probably closer to 17/18, he lied about his age and joined ImpInt at 13 claiming he was 16 so that makes everything more complicated. he only got away with it because the people doing his paperwork were all human and Imperial and had no idea what a 16 year old cathar would actually look like), but he's in his mid 20s for most of the basegame questline and in his early 30s by the Zakuul era. Basically it all works out that there are some unaccounted for years between Hutta and the rest of act one, and some very accounted for years during the Carbonite Timeskip because he's not the canon Commander and being incorrectly frozen in carbonite is one of the few medical horrors that hasn't happened to him. He spent that time having a mental breakdown because he believed that the only person he still trusted in the galaxy had been killed by the Empire, and channeled his feelings about that into wiping out every trace of the Castellan Restraints and their development, including the people who worked on the project. It was all very dramatic and probably would have also have included himself if Lana Beniko hadn't tracked him down before the Empire did and dragged him back to the Alliance to help organize and lead their Intelligence division, which wasn't fun for anybody but did ultimately lead to him getting therapy and starting to heal from the clusterfuck that was his career.

I also expanded on his relationship with a few NPCs quite a bit, he's got a History with Darth Jadus and met him not long after joining ImpInt, because Jadus saw someone that young and vulnerable as a perfect opportunity to mold himself a loyal (or at least scared into submission) man on the inside and eventual personal Hand. it did not work out for him; Khatte was both more willful and more loyal to Keeper than he bargained for, and by the events of the game he absolutely loathed Jadus and also knew him well enough to handily unravel the rest of his plan. he clashed even harder with Zhorrid once she "inherited" him because unlike Jadus he held no fear or respect toward her and no amount of getting barbecued by Force lightning at every meeting would change his mind. This has all lead to him having a distinctly unfavorable view toward Sith, which he voices probably more often than is advisable for one's continued health and safety in the Empire.

he also had an extremely toxic and mutually abusive situationship with Hunter throughout the latter two acts that he's still unpacking the baggage from to this day, and still has a much healthier slow burn romance with Vector (let him kiss the bug man EA I am begging you it's 2024).

But yeah, Alliance era he's honestly thriving as much as could be expected for someone with his history, I've got him in a whole multiverse situation with some friends' ocs where he's free to be a horny disaster in a much safer and healthier way than he used to be.

[veritasangel]

comforting love

ft. Price, Soap, Gaz, Simon

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 778} ༄ I just love sweet tf141

Thinking about being Price's wife and the rest of the guys just love you. Honestly they adore you before even meeting you, just glad the Captain’s found someone that makes him gush like a teenager just talking about you to them.

And then when they meet you, they totally get the way he acts now. You were so sweet, even bringing them all personalised care packages based on things Price had told you about them. You had said you were bringing Price one and felt bad leaving his boys out, especially when they all probably missed home whilst at base.

For some, it was a cute gesture, one not too unfamiliar. But to Simon, receiving something made with such care from someone was foreign.

He thanked you and tried to act indifferent but as soon as he was in the barracks, he was studying everything inside. Some much needed snacks and drinks, a small cute hand painted cartoon ghost figure typical as well as a new journal and a fancy pen that he had no idea how to use. Price must’ve told you he’d began journaling to help his thoughts.

Everyone managed to move on pretty quickly from the thoughtful gifts they received but Simon really cherished it. He ended up having a heart to heart with Price one evening about it after one too many drinks, a few tears even making an appearance, that he claimed was allergies.

A night that Price told you about, the memory of it surfacing as you visited the base again and as you greeted them all, Simon just gave you a really long and silent hug. You didn’t know exactly what he was thinking, but you let him have this moment and he was grateful for it.

Then there was Gaz. Typical sweetheart. Always complimenting you, a kiss to your hand here and there, maybe even a friendly kiss on the cheek, earning a chuckled “Don’t try and steal my missus.” from Price. 

And when you returned a compliment one time, he couldn’t find any words for a good few minutes, cheeks burning hot before clearing his throat and mumbling an almost shy, slightly inaudible thank you. 

He’s always asking Price how things are with you and what you’ve been up to when the group doesn't see you for a while. 

He jokes that he can live vicariously through Price and hoping one day he can find someone as sweet as you. And when you hear about this, you’re tempted to set Gaz up with a friend of yours but Price convinces you that it’s an awful idea so you refrain.

And of course Gaz sends you flowers for valentines day along with a sweet note and a thank you for keeping their beloved Captain happy.

“How big was the bouquet?” John asks,

“I don’t know, normal size?” you question,

“Not bigger than mine?” he adds,

“No.”

“Good, can’t have Gaz upstaging me like that.” 

And of course, Soap. Shameless flirting right from the start and awful cheesy jokes on top of that. He was exactly the way Price described him, if not amplified about a thousand times more in person.

“I mean ma name’s John too, I’m like basically halfway to being your husband anyway.”

The guys appreciated his jokes but they could only hear them for so long before losing their mind. So when you were on base, he was running through every joke and story in his head so he could hear actual genuine laughter at his humour.

And by the end he was definitely addicted to the sound, a tiny bit jealous that Price gets to hear it so often, even if he would never admit it.

“So for her birthday, I was thinking we could get the second instalment of that book she loves.” Soap says with a grin.

“I know what to buy my wife Soap, I’ve got it covered.”

“Alright, well I know the lass well enough now to give you great suggestions, you should listen.” Soap mumbles as he adds the book to his basket, followed by a few more, earning a pointed stare from Price.

When you were visiting Price on base, you gave all of the guys a home away from home and they all appreciated you massively.

You visited for your husband of course, but you got to know them all, looking out for them as well. Making them feel loved even when you didn’t need to.

“So when do we get to see our girl-” Soap begins,

“My girl.” Price interrupts with a warning stare.

“Our girl.” Gaz repeats Soap's words.

“Yeah. They’re both right, Cap'n. Our girl.” Simon adds.

༄ cod m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[seonghwaddict]

ateez's favourite petnames for you

requested by anon. genre. hc, fluff. rating. sfw. warnings. petnames (duh), some are more feminine leaning. wc. 734.

lilo's notes. i'm soso sorry this took me so long to get out T-T

masterlist.

hongjoong

darling. the thought of him using that as a pet name makes me go awooga. idk i feel like it would just sound good in his voice, yk? he can be a tease sometimes too, and i feel like this one has the potential to convey his teasing perfectly while still being cute n stuff. like, he's whispering to you, hugging you from behind in the kitchen as you prepare food or something. or he's entering the house, calling out a soft "darling, i'm home!" AHHHH.

honourable mention: love.

seonghwa

angel. PLEASEEEEE idk it just suits him so well. personally i find the thought of any demon line member using this pet name extra scrumptious, but it's something about seonghwa that just does it for me. he has a gentle and warm voice. waking up to him gently nudging your shoulder, needing to leave early in the morning but not wanting to go without telling you, a soft chuckle as you look up at him in confusion, “sleep well, angel?”

honourable mention: bun/bunny.

yunho

tiny. size difference matters quite a bit to him in a relationship, and he loves pointing it out every chance he gets. he’d say this in a more teasing context, when he’s messing around with you or trying to get you to smile—which is all the time, probably. admiring your face late at night, tangled in each other’s limbs in bed, tired but not wanting to fall asleep just yet as he brushes his fingers against your jawline, “you’re so pretty like this, tiny.”

honourable mention: princess.

yeosang

sweetie/sweetheart. he’s a simple guy, really. anything that makes you smile makes him smile. and seeing the way you grinned the first time he called you that—a simple “hey, sweetie, could you come for a second?” that had you giggling and skipping over to him happily—well, it made him never want to stop calling you sweetie or sweetheart, to say the least.

honourable mention: precious.

san

babe. he would so call his s/o babe i can literally hear it idc argue with the wall. normally i’d convulse (negative) if a man called me babe unironically, but shit he can do that all he wants. anyways. he knows you love it when he calls you any sweet pet name, but his personal favourite is this one. it’s so simple, rolls off his tongue so easily. he’d say it so easily too, calling you and saying something along the lines of, “hey, babe, have you eaten yet? i wanna try this new place i found.” YUPPP

honourable mention: my love.

mingi

doll. i’m a mingi calling you doll enthusiast until the day i die. in every fic i’ve written about his he calls mc doll at least once and that’s exactly how it should be. moving on, i just think he would really love calling you that because it elicits the cutest reaction each time; shyly averted eyes, flushed cheeks. sometimes he likes to throw in a little ‘dolly’ to switch things up a bit, to catch you off guard.

honourable mention: (my) pretty/sweet girl.

wooyoung

babydoll. biggest tease of the century, he definitely has a whole arsenal of cheesy pet names to call you when he wants to be particularly annoying (e.g. “aw what are you pouting for, snookums?” “you’re the best, cupcake!” “my my, you are the apple of my eye,” etc.). but on the rare occasions where he’s not playing around, he likes any variation of baby, particularly babydoll. perhaps his adoration for the name was ignited when he first listened to babydoll by dominic fike, and saw how many times you replayed it, but who knows?

honourable mention: jagi (자기 — honey).

jongho

honey. i call this a double entendre. he doesn’t really use pet names much, but he likes this one because 1. it’s cute, it suits you almost as your actual name. this is a name a husband would use and he’s so husband coded it hurts me. and 2. he really is just a silly guy—and considering he’s often described as a bear, well, then it’s quite self explanatory. massaging your shoulders as he stands behind you, sat on the couch and groaning into your hands after a stressful day at work, his voice low and reassuring, “you always do so well, honey, please don’t worry your pretty little head over it more.”

honourable mention: dear.

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime @jjoongstar

[autumnywinter]

Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)

Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T

I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader

Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.

Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.

He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!

There was no doubting it. You were perfect.

Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.

He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.

Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.

He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.

"Hey, Elliott!"

The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.

"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.

He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.

Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.

"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."

He knew. He watched you.

"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.

It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.

After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.

"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.

"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"

He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.

"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."

"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"

Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"

"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."

He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."

Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.

[joelmillermylove]

Where we belong Pt.2

Joel Miller x f!reader

“The First time”

Summary: It’s yours and Joel’s first time and it’s so much more then you had dreamed of. Warning: 18+ smutty themes, readers and Joel’s first time having sex together and is described in the story. Tender and passionate fluff. Age gap. Word count: 890 A/N: You guys! I got so many sweet and amazing comments on Pt.1 and it means the world to me! I hope you all love Pt.2 as well!

←Part One • Part three →

It’s a quiet night, with the world outside still and calm. You’re at Joel’s place, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort and safety. The room is dimly lit by a single lamp, casting a warm, soft glow over everything.

You and Joel are sitting close on the couch, the remnants of dinner pushed aside, forgotten. The conversation has slowed, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the quiet hum of the night. There’s a tension in the air, not of uncertainty but of anticipation.

Joel’s hand finds yours, his fingers interlacing with yours in a way that feels so natural, yet electric. You look up at him, and the intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch. There’s something unspoken between you, a mutual understanding that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for.

Joel’s hands trembled slightly as he reached out to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes, a mixture of desire and fear. He had been through so much, had lost so much, and the thought of opening his heart to you—of giving you the part of himself he had guarded so fiercely was overwhelming.

But you knew this was different. This wasn’t just about need or lust; it was about love. The kind of love that had grown slowly, tenderly, over the years you had spent together as close friends.

“You sure about this?” Joel’s voice was husky, barely a whisper as he searched your eyes for any sign of doubt.

You nodded, leaning into his touch, your hand covering his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed. In the next moment, Joel’s lips were on yours, capturing them in a kiss that was as tender as it was fervent. His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that spoke of all the times he had held back, all the moments he had wanted this but hadn’t allowed himself to take it. You could feel the years of longing in every kiss, in the way his hands roamed your body, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

When his lips left yours to trail down your neck, you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tilted your head back, offering him more. Joel’s breath was hot against your skin, and the soft growl that escaped his lips sent a wave of desire through you. His hands were rough, calloused from years of hard living, but they moved over your body with a gentleness that made your heart ache. He treated you like something precious, something he was afraid to break.

When you’re both finally bare, Joel takes a moment to just look at you, his gaze filled with awe and love. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

As you lay back on the bed, Joel followed, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you feel safe, protected. There was no rush, no frantic need to hurry. Joel took his time, exploring every inch of your skin, memorizing the way you responded to his touch. Every sigh, every moan that slipped from your lips seemed to drive him further, made his kisses deeper, his touch more insistent.

When he finally entered you, it was slow, deliberate, and you felt your breath catch in your throat at the intensity of it. Joel’s eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with so much love, so much adoration, that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. This wasn’t just about the physical connection; it was about the emotional one, the trust, the love that had been building between you for so long.

With each movement, each gentle thrust, Joel whispered your name like a prayer, his voice thick with emotion. You could feel how much he needed this, needed you, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, your bodies moving together in a perfect, unspoken rhythm.

Time seemed to stand still as you made love, the world outside fading away until there was nothing left but the two of you. Every kiss, every touch was a promise—a promise that no matter what happened, no matter how dark the world became, you would always have each other.

As you reached the peak together, Joel buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, and you felt the weight of his love in every shudder, every gasp. When it was over, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he held you close, his arms wrapped around you like a shield against the world.

You lie there in the quiet aftermath, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Joel presses a kiss to your forehead, his hand gently stroking your back as you both come down from the high.

“I love you,” he murmured in the curve of your neck, his voice raw with emotion “I always have”

You smiled, your heart swelling with a warmth that you knew would never fade. “I love you too, Joel. Forever.”

[polarisjisung]

BEST THING I NEVER HAD

synopsis: the line between giving up and seeing how much more you can take had always been blurry, tonight it seems nonexistent

wc: 3.1k

pairings: jaemin × fem!reader

genre: angst, hearbreak

warnings: mentions of violence, jaemin's injured, use of petnames, jaemin's oblivious and annoying, jaemin sucks, basically a situationship, slight gaslighting

notes: HAPPY JAEMIN DAY, i have a love hate relationship with this work (I suppose you could say its bittersweet 🤭) anyways here's part one! pls notice the beyoncé inspired title

Despite its softness, you can't help but jump at the sound of knocking against your front door.

just loud enough that you'd hear, but quiet enough that your parents wouldn't. It was a specific pattern of 5 knocks, delivered through the knuckles of an index and middle finger, in true jaemin fashion.

You wonder if its healthy, to be able to recognise the hooded silhouette that stands outside your door, to know someone from nothing but the tapping of their knuckles against a slab of wood, to know exactly the state you'll find him in if you swing the door open like you usually would.

It isn't, you suppose. but healthy had never been the word to describe you and jaemin. not the ungodly dessert bowls you made as midnight snacks together, not the lounging around all day doing nothing and certainly not the cycle of longing you found yourself in.

Time and time again you found yourself tearing yourself apart for him, for his love, and each time it would end with you slowly putting those broken pieces, shreds, of yourself back together, alone and all by yourself.

Though you're not sure you did ever recover fully, like a piece of your heart was lost every time jaemin turned his back to leave and never come back.

Like the tiny fragments of a broken glass, the ones you could never quite see as you sweeped up a mess of shattered glass and would find yourself stepping all over days later.

But he did come back. You suppose that was the problem, he came back every time.

Jaemin had this perfect ability of keeping you on edge, never pushing you far enough to leave, never pushing himself far enough to stay. It was the way he did most things, showing up at your door at a time you weren't sure was morning or night, coming back just before you'd manage to convince yourself he wouldn't, leaving just before your hope that he'd stay would come true. jaemin took this middle path in life that lead to the worst of both worlds, best of none. and it left you unsatisfied every time

Regardless, you'd been craving, almost desperate for his presence, anticipation bubbling in your chest every night since the last you'd seen him, in hopes you'd find a wounded jaemin helplessly stood at your doorstep with sparkly eyes and a smile that told you it would all be alright. it seemed that was the only way you saw him anyways, the way you hated most, injured that is.

So you'd prayed day and night, clasped your hands together and had gotten down on your knees and begged that he'd stay true to his word, that he wouldn't leave and that this wouldn't happen— yet here you were.

You haven't seen jaemin in weeks, but you still remember it all the same, the spark of glee that would ignite within you whenever you heard him at your door.

Tonight his presence makes your chest tighten and your mouth dry up— you feel the way your breaths force themselves through the confines of your throat, almost choking you.

The feeling is foreign and a sharp contrast to the way your cheeks would flush over and your heart would once race at the thought of jaemin.

Tonight you stray far from that love struck awe, eyes clenched so hard you were beginning to see colour. there's a growing lump in your throat that doesn't seem as negligible as before, with each shortened intake of breath it doubles maybe even triples in size— your vision, in spite of your shut eyes, blurrs into an abyss of absolute nothingness

And despite the thick wooden door that separates you, tonight na jaemin's presence feels suffocating.

You're not sure you'd describe it as love, certainly it wasn't that warm feeling of butterflies in your stomach and giddiness you knew before, like you were star struck, instead it was this feverish conjugation that made your hands clammy and your ears ring. Like the butterflies now had broken wings. You felt ill.

It had always been that way, only your heart would wrench after jaemin left and never while he stood expectant on your front porch. You suppose when he leaves for so long and stays for so little, your heart doesn't bother to acknowledge his visits anymore, like some form of a self-defense mechanism that protects you against yourself. because you never really could protect yourself against him

Suddenly, the difference being lovestruck and lovesick had never been clearer.

It had been three months.

A whole three months since you'd last seen him and tonight, tonight was the night he came back— unannounced, unexpected, and finally, finally, after days and weeks of convincing yourself, unwanted.

You know better than to let him in, not just into your home, but into your heart. And if you had learnt anything in your lifetime of knowing na jaemin, it was that those two were absolutely synonymous

Your heart that had only just now begun to learn that it could survive without him, thrive without him in fact.

You know that this is it, tonight would make it or break it— either way you know it would break you.

In the long run, it's not hard to figure out what you should do but you're a creature of habit, compelled by nothing more than muscle memory and indecision.

Your shaking hands reach for the door and begin turning the lock faster than you can convince yourself against the idea.

sure enough there he is, not an inch of skin that isn't painted in the cold shades of purple and blue yet hes staring up at you with so much warmth.

"How do you always get yourself like this, how do you get worse everytime" your words came as whisper.

You're not sure if your words hold the alternate meaning you hope they do, but as you take in the image of jaemin in front of you, you swear he's almost unrecognisable, so far beyond bruised that you wonder if you should be so cruel as to slam the door in his face.

He shrugs in response to your question, the cold breeze that brushes past the two of you biting at your skin, the thin material of your pyjama shorts doing little to nothing to keep your warm.

You're not supposed to let him in, but surely, you could always find a way to push him out, right?

There's some sort of a cheeky grin on his lips as you step aside to let him in, perhaps if he knew this was the last time he'd be stepping through the double doors of your home he would've worn an expression a lot different— you hoped he would at least.

But you know better than to occupy yourself in thoughts of what ifs.

Jaemin makes a beeline for the couch, as you do for the first aid kit that rests atop the kitchen cupboards, wordlessly.

Though the silence is nothing new, jaemin doesn't feel the welcoming atmosphere around him as he steps further into your home, in fact he feels nothing at all.

He looks over at you.

It's not tiredness that sits atop your features, the details of your pretty face all committed to his memory, yet the slight furrow of your brows and the way your lips pinch into a tight line aren't familiar to jaemin at all. There's something he can't quite put his finger on that sends him into a frenzy of panic and worry

"Hey doll?" you hum in response "are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" you chuckle wryly, "shouldn't I be asking you that jaemin?"

"Touche" you assume he lets it go, but jaemin doesnt know how, pushing a little further

"You just seem a little, off?"

After all, limits weren't something jaemin recognised well

You hate that he can't recognise the plain, simple and painfully obvious look of disappointment that's written all over your face either

Regardless you don't worry enough about his words to credit him with a response, rubbing the antiseptic roughly into his skin before reaching for the tube and letting it fall into the empty trash can, the thud as it hit the bottom filling you with ease.

You hate waste just as much as the next person, but wasting a little medicine was fine, just as long as you didn't waste anymore time on him.

Jaemin's brows knit together in a tight knot, watching you make your way back towards him with full consciousness, though there's something about the way you walk, trudge even, maybe its the way your feet drag across the carpet or the way your steps seem smaller, less eager, that has his heart sinking a little

"Doll, I'm not sure you meant to put that there" he says, attempting to brush a stray hair from your face, though you turn your head before he gets the chance

"Hmm?" your eyes trail over to the bin "oh, I just thought if I'm never going to use it again, there's no point keeping it around" you shrug

But you always kept it around, you kept it for him— remember he was allergic to the regular stuff.

What did you mean you'd never use it again?

Jaemin licks his lips, letting a soft sigh escape them as he watches you hurriedly place band aids over his cuts

"What's got you like this?" he says, you play innocent, shooting a look of confusion his way— jaemin doesn't expand, you don't answer

The room is cold, or at least it feels that way, despite the fire that's burning just a few feet away from him. The chill of silence is overwhelming, and the warmth you'd once emit in your words, in your actions, in your gaze, they're all missing.

"Did I do something wrong?" he whispers, innocent beady eyes forced into your face as he holds you close, not letting you slip through his hands— ironically you're already too far out of reach

All it takes is for you to bite at the left corner of your bottom lip for jaemin to know you're deep in thought

You wonder if he's just playing oblivious or if jaemin really and truly thinks that his little back and forth games don't have any consequences.

Either way, you shake your head at him— it wasn't all his fault.

Really you had no one to blame except yourself, you should've known better than to be so vulnerable to the likes of him.

You know better than to tell him what's wroong. You know that you can't risk receiving an apology from him, because if he made even the slightest inclination to sorriness, you'd accept it.

That's how you loved him. How much you loved him.

At one point you swore you'd let him drag you down to hell if it meant you could hold his hand on the way down— you're not sure the life you're living is much different though

You're not entirely sure you wouldn't let him drag you down now either, but the lack of certainty is the only push you need to know that this time, it's your turn to be selfish.

"All done," you whisper, his wounds quickly tended to with little precision and perhaps even less care, absentmindedly wrapped in a loose gauze.

This time, jaemin catches onto the ulterior meaning of your words, watching the way you head towards the staircase.

"Doll, talk to me what's wrong?" it's that tone laced with all forms of concern and worry that has the tears welling in your eyes

If jaemin hadn't reached out for your wrist and stopped you, you'd have made your way back up to your room without another word

But he does, he does stop you and it stops you from walking away

"I don't think I can" you say and all jaemin can do is tug at your wrist to finally get you to face him, a dull expression on your face. Every feature he knows and loves and remembers contorted into a look of nothingness.

"Y/n, please"

"Just go jaemin, you know the way out" you sigh, your speech is tired and lacks energy, a deep reflection of your soul and how you felt about the routine the two of you had established. If only Jaemin could see that.

"I can't just go when you're so clearly upset" he says— oh, but he can

You knew that better than anyone else.

"You let yourself believe that"

The words come as a whisper, like you almost hope he doesn't hear them, fast off the tongue but meant with true intent

And to jaemin they tasted bitter, superficial, like you didn't speak with your heart, but your mind, the sweetness he knew of your speech so severely lacking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're so oblivious to how—" for a moment you're ready to tell jaemin all there is to know about the two of you, but you know its no use, jaemin would feed you the sweetest lies and you'd mistake them as the truest of promises.

"Actually you know what never mind what I mean, just go jaemin" you sigh, raking your fingers through your hair

You take his silence as reason to continue, maybe because talking is the only thing you know will keep the tears in your eyes from falling or maybe it's the look in his eyes that urges you to continue

"We're stuck in this never-ending loop, can't you see that?" the control you had over the volume of your voice diminishes with each word, but you're not sure you care, "just stop jaemin"

"Stop what?"

"Coming back" you suck in a harsh breath "just leave like you always do but this time, don't come back, please please please don't come back" you hate the way your voice cracks and your speech almost falters, burning your throat.

"I'll do whatever you say doll, just tell me what this is about and I prom—"

You cut him off before he can let the word fall from his lips, eyes widened before being clenched shut in the span of a few seconds

"Don't promise jaemin, you never stick to them" you sigh again "just go"

"You know I can't"

"you do it every time, what makes this time so different?" your tone is sour and jaemin knows better than to dispute your words, harsh but so painfully true

"You're upset" he tries, but it doesn't seem enough when you scoff right in his face and the feeling that follows only makes you hope you'd done this all so much earlier.

"Yeah? well that's nothing new, just walk out the door and break my heart like you always do— I'm begging" you shut your eyes, a harsh deep breath taken in before you continue "I need time to heal, you never give me time to heal, so I'm begging you this time, just don't come back"

"Break your heart?" the words echo from his tongue in fragments, like he's still piecing together your sentences to make sense of them. Jaemins eyes are soft and glossy as he looks up at you a couple steps away

"yeah"

"But I love you doll, I only come back because I love you" that's something you wish jaemin could've said sooner, maybe it would've meant something then.

It's a lie, you know it is, you're sure it is and despite all the lies he tells you, you'd never wished more than this for his words to be true.

"Then stop" you say, trying to shoot off up the stairs but jaemin's fingers remain wrapped aorund your wrist, grip firm and unwavering

"So what? you're just going to throw it all away? all this time we've known each other, all the memories, you're just going to pretend it doesn't exist?" he finally argued back, mouth slightly ajar as his breaths grew deeper "like we don't exist?"

"We don't jaemin, reality is that you're not mine and I'm not yours as much as I let myself be— you and I we just don't work" you wonder if he's even listening when he turns his head, scoffing to the floor with a tongue running across his inner cheek "we're not good for each oth--"

"How can you know that when we've never even tried" his voice is loud, the loudest you've ever heard, a deep booming from the pit of his stomach that has you reeling back, gulping as he cuts you off

"I don't know about you jaemin but I tried jaemin, I did but now I'm tired"

"How can you be tired of us?" his voice shakes, he seems feeble despite what he was just a few moments ago— you realise it's one of jaemin's best tactics, making you pity him when it's the last thing you should be doing.

Somehow despite how aware you are of it now, your heart still wrenches at the thought of upsetting him.

"it's not us" you defend, knowing full well that that's exactly what it was " I just, I don't deserve this jaemin, I don't deserve someone who keeps coming back" the glossiness of his eyes grows further " I deserve someone who never leaves"

"Then why are you telling me to go?" his eyes are telling, red and his heart, even if just for a moment rests on his sleeve.

"Because I know you, you're not capable of staying. You can't" his grip loosens, he takes a step back and though he argues again, you know this is it.

"I can. I will. I'd do anything for you" he says, and you swear your gulp is audible, you almost hear it echo through the room. Your stomach churns. You feel the way your insides tip upside down and back over again at the site of jaemin's furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, those pouty lips that you once loved bruised and trembling. His gaze though fixated on you is aloof, like he's not present at all. Suddenly it all feels too real. The way he pulls back, the spark in his eyes dimming and the confidence in his stance diminishing. Jaemin was giving up. But he wasn't giving up without a fight.

"You would?" you don't know why you ask, but jaemin nods anyway, and perhaps it soothes your broken heart ever so slightly to live in the blissful ignorance of thinking that his words were true. That he meant what he said.

To think that he ever loved you, even if for just a fraction of a moment, gives you reason to believe that this had all been worth it.

But you know better than to let a moments love turn into a lifetime's regret.

"Yeah" jaemin's words escape him in a sharp breath.

He finds himself holding onto the last thread of hope in your eyes that tells him that you feel the same. He holds your stare in his own for a while and though it was not warm, and it certainly was not kind— it was loving. And love was all jaemin had ever known from you.

"Then go" You say, and despite the various other words resting at the tip of your tongue, it's all you say.

Jaemin is left to do nothing but watch. You had taught him love, and now you had let him go.

The front door slams shut before you reach the top of the stairs, and it finally hits you that this is it.

Jaemin was gone, and just like you asked, he never came back.

permanent taglist : @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @nanawrlds

[reidmarieprentiss]

hi love!! i love your writing and i was wondering if you could write for spencer and cinephile!reader, maybe she wanted to study film in college but couldn´t (totally not self projecting here) and now she just loves to watch new movies with spencer when he gets time off of work. she throws random movie facts throught the day and it's the only time where spencer is left speechless lol.

yes!! oh my god how cute

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Cinephile

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none!

Word count: 608

main masterlist

It’s a quiet evening, the kind where the world feels a little softer, a little more at ease. You and Spencer are curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs, and the warm glow of the television casting a gentle light across the room. The two of you have just finished watching yet another classic, and as the credits roll, you can feel Spencer's gaze lingering on you.

You turn to him, noticing the way his eyes seem to shine, a small smile playing on his lips. “What?” you ask, though you already know the answer. He’s always like this after you watch a movie together—captivated, not just by the film, but by your passion for it.

Spencer shrugs, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Nothing, I just love listening to you talk about movies. You know so much, it’s fascinating.” His voice is soft, filled with genuine admiration.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, the kind of warmth that only comes from being truly understood. “I’ve always loved movies,” you say, your voice taking on that familiar excitement that only film can bring out in you. “There’s just something magical about how everything comes together—the direction, the cinematography, the editing. It’s like…every detail matters, you know?”

Spencer nods, completely entranced by your words. “You make it sound like an art form,” he says, his voice almost reverent.

“Because it is!” you reply, your enthusiasm bubbling over. “Take that one scene, for example,” you begin, launching into an explanation of how the lighting created a specific mood, how the camera angles conveyed a sense of intimacy, how the music subtly underscored the tension without overpowering the dialogue.

As you talk, you can see Spencer soaking up every word, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s not just listening—he’s absorbing, understanding, appreciating. It’s moments like these when you realize how lucky you are to have someone who values your passions, someone who listens with such intent, who sees the beauty in the things you love.

When you finally pause to take a breath, Spencer reaches out, taking your hand in his. “I love hearing you talk about this,” he says, his voice sincere. “You’re so passionate, and it makes me see things in a new way. I wish I could’ve seen you in film school—you would’ve been amazing.”

You smile, squeezing his hand. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I love our movie nights, and I love that you let me ramble on about all this stuff.”

“Ramble?” Spencer chuckles, shaking his head. “You could never ramble. You make it come alive for me, like I’m seeing the film through your eyes.”

Your heart swells at his words, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Spencer Reid, the man who can quote statistics and facts like they’re second nature, is left in awe by your love for film. It’s a feeling that’s hard to describe, but you know it’s something special, something you’ll always treasure.

As the credits finish rolling and the screen fades to black, you snuggle closer to Spencer, resting your head on his shoulder. “So,” you say, your voice teasing, “what did you think of the movie?”

He smiles, resting his cheek against your hair. “I think it was perfect,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur. “But I think hearing you talk about it was even better.”

And as you sit there together, you realize that it doesn’t matter what life path was chosen for you. What matters is that you’re here now, sharing what you love with someone who loves you just as much, if not more.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @i-live-in-spite @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite 

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 20

Warnings: angst, kinda mean!Eddie, mentions of an ED, fluff at the end

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Tension arises between you and Eddie when Steve steps back into your life.

Word count: 8k+

A/N: If there's any typos or mistakes, you didn't see them! @hellfire--cult thanks for feeding me ideas, I'm blessed to have you

series masterlist

-

You can’t explain the awful feeling in your stomach or the suffocating feeling in your chest.

You have trouble understanding why it all feels so wrong when it’s all you have dreamed of for so long. Steve kissed you in a way he had never kissed you before, not even when you had just started dating did he kiss you with so much passion and love the way he did last night. 

His touch was gentle, his lips were soft and he was so desperate to feel you against him – you were just as desperate and the kiss just showed how much you still love him, how much you still want him, how much you crave him even after everything that happened between you both. But, not even the passion of the kiss could erase the things he had done to you. 

The moment it all caught up to you, the moment something else came to your mind, you pushed him away and you ran, you ran away from him and now you feel guilty for it but you couldn’t stay, you couldn’t stick around any longer. 

You found Robin and Chrissy, blabbering out what happened to you before you begged them to take you home.

Now, you are laying in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling. You’re glad that you haven’t had much alcohol last night. The sharp pain in your lower stomach is already bad enough, you wouldn’t want to deal with both a headache and the awful cramps. 

You don’t know how, but you manage to drag yourself out of the comfort of your bed. When the pain in your stomach gets sharper, you suddenly regret the plans that you had made with your friends for today. 

Your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing. You don’t bother to hurry down the stairs to pick it up. You know who it is but you aren’t ready to talk to him. 

Eddie had done nothing wrong, he had never done anything wrong. 

But the thought of talking to him or even facing him fills you with an awful feeling, one that you can’t describe. You know you can’t run from it, you had made plans with Robin, Chrissy and Eddie. 

You let the phone ring and disappear into the bathroom, you close the door and drown out the voice of the shrill sound. 

You hope that a hot shower will help you get rid of that sickening feeling but your mind can’t rest and every time you think back to that kiss, you feel that immense guilt. Why? You wanted it, you wanted it just as much as he did. 

Steve is single and so are you, there is not a reason for you to feel guilty about something that you had wanted for so long. 

Or, maybe you feel guilty for doing this to yourself… again. Because why are you letting him back in? Why are you giving him the chance to hurt you again? 

It doesn’t matter how he feels about you, it doesn’t matter how much he loves you, it doesn’t matter, not anymore. 

He hurt you too many times for you to just let him back into your life like this. 

You cannot give him the chance to hurt you again. 

The clock strikes 2 when the doorbell rings. You furrow your brows when you look at the watch on your vanity, the one you never wear. Eddie is always on time when it comes to you but never when he picks up Robin first, she is always running late. You take one last look at yourself, fluffing out your hair a little more before you drop the lipgloss on the table. You smoothe down your skirt and reach for your little purse, picking out your favorite cardigan on the way out. 

The doorbell rings again when you walk down the stairs, “I’m coming!” You sigh. 

When you open the door, you don’t expect to see him on the other side. The smile that tugged at your lips instantly falls and tension arises in your body. 

“Hi.”

Steve. 

Your shoulders slump as you take in the sight of him. The soft and apologetic eyes, the hopeful look in his features. The messy hair. 

“Hey,” you whisper. 

“C-Can we talk?” 

You’d rather not. The fear that he will pull you back in is too big. 

“What about?” 

You keep holding onto the door, staring at him as you try to calm the feeling in your chest. He had already walked you home last night, even though you tried to protest against it, he could’ve talked to you then but he stayed quiet, you did too. 

He licks his lips as he looks down nervously. The atmosphere around you had changed yet again. You were ready to let him back into your life. You smiled at him again, you talked to him again, you wanted to be his friend – he ruined it all with a kiss and he knows it.

“I-I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

As you look into his eyes, you know, you just know, he is genuine about it. There’s remorse lingering in them and fear – fear of losing you again. 

“Steve,” you sigh. 

“I-I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about how much I would hurt you again a-and, I-I just wanted, no, needed to kiss you again. I messed up, I was a selfish prick. And I promise, it won’t happen again if you don’t want it.” He is pleading with his eyes as he looks down at you, “I loved every second of it b-but I shouldn’t have done it. I-I just, please forgive me, dolly.”

Steve had never begged for forgiveness when you were still together, he had done so many awful things, he hurt you so many times but he never begged for forgiveness, he just dismissed them and moved on and acted like he had never done anything wrong. 

“I won’t ever do it again,” he says, even though kissing you is all he wants to do. “I just, I don’t want to lose you again.”

You don’t want to lose him again either. 

Something about the look in his eyes and the sadness in his voice makes you feel guilty. 

You nod. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “just, promise me that you won’t kiss me again.”

“I promise!” He exclaims with wide eyes, “I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. I-I know that we’re not exactly friends but I-I’d love for us to be friends again.”

Right now, you don’t see the Steve that hurt you. You see the boy you used to play hide and seek with. The boy who used to pick flowers for you. The boy who used to pick you up in the afternoons to get sundaes at Benny’s. The boy you made a pact with when you were little kids – that you would stay friends, no matter what. 

And Steve really needs a friend. He doesn’t have Tommy anymore, he doesn’t have Nancy anymore – who is left?

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” He asks, furrowing his brows when you completely dismiss his words. 

“Who do you hang out with?” 

“No one,” he says without a single moment of hesitation. 

It might be his fault but you still feel bad for him. You and Tommy were his only friends and now he has neither one of you left. 

He has no one. 

No friends and not even his parents to come home to – they are never there.

Maybe it’s the image of him alone or maybe it’s just the look in his eyes that makes you feel heartbroken, sad for the man in front of you, the one who used to be your everything. 

Suddenly, you feel the need to keep the promise that you had made as kids. 

You open your mouth to speak but the sound of a car – a van pulling up to your driveway makes you freeze in your spot. Your heart leaps to your throat and you swallow harshly. 

Eddie.

Oh no. You had been ignoring his calls all day, breaking the promise that you would call after every party – you didn’t, at least not last night. You couldn’t. 

He gets out of the van and closes the door. You are so focused on him that you don’t see Chrissy and Robin on the other side of the van. Eddie stares at Steve’s car with a frown on his face and when he looks your way, he freezes. 

Steve notices the panicked look in your eyes, the nervousness is written all over your face. He turns around. Eddie stands there with a frown on his face, anger in his features and disappointment.

Robin and Chrissy share a look when they find Steve on your front porch. They are the firsts to walk towards you, glancing at Eddie nervously. 

You tear your eyes away from Eddie when Chrissy walks up the stairs, brushing past Steve, completely ignoring his presence. 

“Hey!” She smiles but with a questioning look in her eyes. You know what she is thinking; what is he doing here? 

“Hey Chris,” you smile and greet her with a hug. She places her hand on your shoulder when she pulls back, eying the skirt you are wearing, her eyes lighten up, “oh my god, is it the one we bought last week together?” 

“Yes!”

“I love it, it’s so cute!” 

“Don’t you have the same one?” Robin asks, chuckling as she approaches you, eying Steve weirdly. 

He rolls his eyes and sighs. 

“Yes but it’s not the same color, Robs!” 

Robin gives Chrissy a teasing smile before she looks over at you, “hey wild child, are you good after last night?” She tilts her head in his direction, raising her brows at you as though to say ‘what the fuck is he doing here?’ 

You would’ve laughed at the nickname she just gave you if it wasn’t for the intense look that Eddie is giving you as he walks up the stairs as well. You see his clenched jaw, he is angry – angry that you ignored his calls, angry to see him here. But there is also a hint of sadness in his brown orbs and you can’t take it – you can’t stand to see even a sliver of sadness in his eyes. 

He quickly masks it with something else, just the way he always does. 

“Thanks for the call, sweetheart,” he says sarcastically, furrowing his brows with a fake smile on his lips, “I mean for thanks for letting me know that you got home safe. Oh and super nice of you to keep ignoring my calls all day too.” 

You can’t even look at him so you look down. 

Steve’s brows stayed furrowed, the tension and the awkwardness isn’t hard to miss. Eddie looks at him in a way that almost makes him shrink under the weight of his eyes. So he turns back to you. You are blinking, chewing on your bottom lip and breathing heavily. You feel guilty, so guilty that you can’t even look at Eddie. Steve’s heart drops a little. He remembers how he felt when Nancy kissed him, how he couldn’t look into your eyes without feeling like the guilt was eating at him. He felt horrible, even when it wasn’t a kiss he initiated or even let happen, he still felt guilty, just as guilty as you are feeling, right now. 

But you and Eddie are just friends, right? 

Robin and Chrissy look at each other awkwardly. 

“Eddie, I-I’m sorry,” you say softly, “I had the worst headache–”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbles, glancing at Steve.

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s attitude. 

“Look, can we just go?” Robin asks, wanting to escape the awkward situation. 

“Yes please,” Chrissy mumbles. 

You look up, slowly looking between your friends. You already know that Robin and Chrissy are both going to be too busy with each other and Eddie is clearly pissed – you have seen him angry before but the anger was never directed at you and you know very well how he can be when he’s pissed.

Before you can stop the words from spilling, you look up at Steve. 

“Steve is coming too.”

All four of them turn to you, looking at you wide eyed – as though you had gone crazy. 

Chrissy looks annoyed, Robin looks confused, Eddie looks at you in disbelief and Steve, he stares at you with softened eyes. 

“I invited him,” you lie. 

Steve shakes his head at you, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to include him, this is not what he came here for. He just wanted to apologize and make things right. 

Robin looks away with a clenched jaw and Chrissy looks down to hide her eye roll. 

“Can I talk to you, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, tilting his head. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nervously. 

You walk past Steve and the girls, clutching your cardigan tightly as you step out on the porch. Eddie places his hand on your lower back and leads you down the stairs and towards his van. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to ignore you–”

“Did something happen?” He asks and finally swallows the anger down. He can hear the trembling in your voice, the shakiness of your hand which might be caused by something else. 

He feels the urge to cup your cheeks so he can see your eyes but you keep looking down at the graveled ground. 

You simply shake your head. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asks softly, this time. 

“I was really tired and I drank too much, I wasn’t thinking.”

You raise your head a little, daring to look at him. 

“You’re lucky Robin called me otherwise I would’ve broke into your house.”

Your lips twitch and you break into a smile, “wouldn’t be the first time.”

He can’t help but smile back at you, his anger melting away. 

“I-I’m sorry for inviting him, I know none of you want him around.”

“Then why did you invite him?” He asks, not out of anger but out of curiosity.

You can see the annoyance lingering in his eyes, the same annoyance you saw in Chrissy’s and Robin’s eyes. 

You don’t know why you feel the need to explain yourself but when you look at him, you know you have to. 

“He is just a friend now, I promise. I-I don’t want him like that – he’s just my friend.” 

Eddie’s eyes skip over your face. Your brows are furrowed, eyes pleading and filled with honesty – he just doesn’t understand what the guilt is for. 

“I still don’t understand why he has to be included.”

“He’s alone, Eddie.”

His brows knit together and he shakes his head. 

“No, he isn’t? He’s with Nancy and bitchy Carol and fucktard Tommy–”

“He broke up with Nancy and he doesn’t have friends. Not anymore.”

Oh. 

If there is one thing Eddie knows, it’s loneliness. And he can’t help but pity him. There isn’t much that he knows about Steve except for the things that you told him and his absent parents – it’s something that he unfortunately can relate to. He knows what it’s like to have no one. But fear grows inside of him at the news of Steve being single. 

“Fine, don’t expect me to not mess with him though.”

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“You two will be menaces to each other.” 

Whenever Eddie felt vulnerable, angry or hurt, he’d put on a mask, he would hide his true feelings by putting on a front. He had never felt that need to do that with you, not until now. 

He watches you with a weird feeling in his chest when you walk back to Steve. 

Robin gives Eddie a pitiful look but the latter refuses to show how insecure or sad he is. He puts on a fake smile and looks over at Steve. 

“I always wanted to take your girl for a ride.” 

Steve’s head snaps towards him, halting his movements, he stops jingling with his car keys and gives Eddie a weird look. 

“Excuse me?” 

Robin and Chrissy look at you before they turn to each other, erupting into a fit of giggles at the double innuendo. 

Eddie briefly glances at you before he nudges his chin into the direction of Steve’s BMW. 

Steve squints his eyes, “yeah, keep dreaming, Munson.”

Eddie chuckles, “I will.”

“Wait, are we taking your car?” You ask, turning to Steve. 

Robin mumbles something under her breath and Chrissy shushes her in response, nudging her shoulder. 

“Can we talk, y/n?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, at the movies.” 

You know exactly what he wants to talk about. He doesn’t want to intrude and he probably feels awkward to be around your friends. 

“Come on.”

Steve sighs, knowing that you won’t take no for an answer, he just gestures for you all to get in his car. He expects you to take the passenger seat but instead, you take Eddie’s hand in yours and lead him to the passenger side. 

“You can sit in the front,” you smile at Eddie as he looks down at you in confusion. 

“I’ll sit in the back with Chris and Robin.”

“Uh–” 

“Let’s go before the movie starts!” You say before anyone else can protest. 

Eddie and Steve share a look, not a very excited or happy one, it’s more one of annoyance. Neither of them want to spend time with the other. But they get in the car nonetheless. 

Chrissy and Robin get in as well, begrudgingly so. 

“Are we still going out for pizza afterwards?” Robin asks, looking between Chrissy, Eddie and you. 

Steve looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing the way you scrunch your face up in disgust. 

“Yeah, we can order some when we get back to my place,” you mumble, “I definitely need some McDonald's today though.” 

Robin raises her brows in surprise, “what, is that hangover food for you or something?” 

Chrissy chuckles beside her. 

“Not exactly.”

No. It’s not your hangover food. Steve knows it. You only ever craved McDonald’s once a month. 

“Hey Robin, did you tell y/n about your new job yet?” She asks, trying to ease the tension in the car. 

Your lips part when you look over at your friend, “wait, what new job? You found something new?” 

“Yes!” Robin says, pretending to be excited, “I’m starting next week.”

“Where?”

“Scoops Ahoy!”

Chrissy smiles, nodding in excitement. 

Steve turns around, looking at you, surprised. His lips twitch and you almost laugh. Eddie glances between the two of you.

“Oh,” he furrows his brows, “the ice cream shop, huh?” 

“Yup.”

Robin doesn’t even acknowledge him properly, just nods into his direction. Oh, this is going to be interesting. 

“So, have you met your co-workers yet?” You ask. 

She twists the rings on her fingers, shaking her head. 

“Nope, I guess, I’ll meet them on monday.”

“You don’t have to,” you giggle.

“Huh?” 

The look of confusion amuses even Steve. 

You point your finger at Steve, who waves at Robin mockingly. 

Her eyes widen, for a moment she looks shocked before she lets out a groan of annoyance, “you gotta be kidding me..” 

“Hey there, co-worker,” Steve says, unable to hold back his chuckle. 

She slumps back, looking very miserable before her eyes light up and she sits back up, “wait! Does that mean that you have to wear one of those sailor uniforms too?”

At that, Steve groans and looks away. 

“Sailor uniforms?” 

“Come by on monday and you’ll see Steve in a pair of skimpy sailor shorts,” Robin winks at you. 

While you and Chrissy laugh and even Eddie joins in, smirking at Steve, “are you gonna wear some slutty shorts, Harrington?”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. 

“Alright, alright,” Robin mumbles, “can you start the car, dingus? We’re gonna miss the movie!”

“Yeah,” he sighs as he starts the car.

-

The drive to the movies wasn't the most joyful one you’ve been on. Eddie kept pestering Steve about his music choices. Steve kept rolling his eyes at him and Chrissy and Robin kept whispering to you. 

‘Why is he here?’

‘Why did you invite him?’

‘Are you with him again?’ 

‘What about –’

You never got to hear the end of Robin’s question, Chrissy slapped her shoulder before she could finish it. 

Walking into the movie theater has always been a nostalgic feeling to you, it always takes you back to your childhood. It’s oddly comforting. The smell of popcorn and butter makes your mouth water and you can’t wait to dig into the sweet treat. 

After buying the tickets, Chrissy takes your hand and leads you over to the lounge area while the others go to buy the snacks. 

The moment you take a seat, she starts bombing you with questions again. Rambling and throwing one after the other at you, not even giving you the chance to reply. 

“Chrissy–”

“No, please don’t tell me that you’re getting back with him,” she says, crinkling your nose. She watched you cry over him more than once, even before the break up. 

You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, taking a look at the others as they stand by the counter. 

“I just – he’s different now.”

Chrissy scoffs at your words, rolling her eyes. 

“Right, they all change when they get dumped.”

“He didn’t get dumped, he broke up with Nancy – and it doesn’t even matter! I don’t want to date him, I-I just, we’re friends now, I guess.”

Chrissy knows that Steve had always been more than just your boyfriend. He was your best friend, long before she became friends with you. 

“I just don’t want him to hurt you again, y/n.”

You tilt your head and smile at her, “please, don’t worry about me. I won’t let that happen, not again. We’re friends. That’s all.”

She nods at your words and glances at the others. Steve and Eddie seem to be fighting about something, she can’t help but chuckle in amusement. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, leaning closer to him to mock him about something. 

“What’s so funny?” 

She tilts her head at you, “well, I guess, Steve tagging along makes things more entertaining.”

With furrowed brows, you take a look at them – Eddie is holding a bag of popcorn in one hand, throwing some at Steve with the other.

“Guys!” You hear Robin’s annoyed voice. 

You snort. 

Robin is the first to come back, annoyance written all over her face,“they are so immature.”

She hands Chrissy the bag of popcorn and a box of Reese's pieces. 

“They’re men, what do you expect?”

“You’re right,” Robin says to Chrissy. 

“Sweetheart, tell Steve that you prefer salted popcorn,” Eddie says when he comes back, “he insisted on sweet popcorn.” 

Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie, stopping next to him. 

“Here we go again,” Robin mumbles under her breath. 

Steve already knows your answer so he doesn’t even look at you expectedly. Eddie seems to look like he knows your answer too and he does, but today it isn’t the right one. 

“Uh.” You get up and look at your best friend with an apologetic look in your eyes as you reach for the bag in Steve’s hand. “I’m sorry…”

Eddie’s eyes flash with confusion and his face falls. If you didn’t feel so guilty already, you would’ve been amused by the look of betrayal on his face. He is so dramatic. You’d be lying if you said that it’s something you don’t love about him though.

“W-What?” He scoffs as his lips set in a pout, “we always get salted popcorn!” 

“Yeah and it’s my favorite but I’m craving something sweet today. I’m sorry, Ed’s.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and looks away from you, “and how did you know that?” He asks Steve. 

Steve could have been smug about it, especially, seeing as it makes Eddie mad. 

He shrugs, “it’s just something that we always used to get when we came here,” he lies. 

Suddenly, you want to run, you want to escape. So you grab your purse and leave the group, pretending to look at the ticket that you were holding all this time. Chrissy gets up to follow you and so does Steve. 

Robin and Eddie stay back though, glancing at each other.

It’s not that they hate him. They don’t. But they know what he did to you, they know how much he hurt you, how much you suffered because of him and he had done nothing to earn your trust back. He just weaseled his way back into your life and you let him. 

And despite his jealousy and the fear of losing you, Eddie still isn’t as angry as Robin is – because he thinks about your words; ‘He’s alone, Eddie.’

Eddie and Robin follow the three of you, he watches you, he watches how you interact with Steve and Chrissy, laughing at something he said. 

“I’m so fucking pissed,” Robin says. 

“Why?” He asks but keeps his eyes on you. 

“Because he will just hurt her again. I can’t believe she feels bad for him after the shit he did to her.”

“Well, can’t really fight her when she’s this stubborn,” Eddie shrugs. 

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want to be friends with her – I mean, when Billy kissed her he was like all rough and shit, and then Heather – fuck, when Heather told me she kissed Steve, I was fuming!” She says, looking up as she groans in anger. 

Eddie feels like someone had dropped a bucket of ice cold water over him. He freezes and halts in his tracks, eyes widening as he feels his heart sinking to his stomach. 

“W-What?” Eddie mumbles. 

Robin stops walking when she notices that Eddie is no longer beside her. She glances at the three of you before she turns back to him and sees the look of confusion and sadness in his eyes – fuck. She should have known. She should’ve known that you didn’t tell him. That is why you didn’t call him. That is why you didn’t pick up any of his calls. 

“S-She kissed Steve a-and Billy?” He asks with widened eyes, “please, tell me you’re joking, Robin.”

Robin’s own eyes widen as well and she starts shaking her head wildly, “no! It was spin the bottle.” 

A part of him feels relieved but the other part is still tense. His eyes begin to hurt. 

He curses at himself for not being there last night. You wouldn’t have to kiss Billy if he was there, you wouldn’t have to kiss Steve. 

“B-But it was just a game, right?”

A guilty feeling overcomes Robin and she already begins to regret that she even mentioned it. 

She wants to say ‘yes, it was just a game’ but Robin was never a good liar and even if she tried, he would know that she is not telling the truth. 

“It was just a game,” Eddie repeats, “her kissing Steve was just a game, right?” 

He doesn’t even care about Billy, the kiss with him was just a game. 

“Eddie–”

“Come on, Robin,” he mumbles, shakily. 

He knows he has no right to be upset over a kiss. You are not even his to lose. But he always hoped, deep down, he always hoped that there might be a chance for him someday. 

“She told me that he kissed her again afterwards – outside.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, his heart feels heavy in his chest. He feels so stupid to think that you wouldn’t do this. You could only resist him for so long. Steve Harrington still has your heart after all. 

“But Eddie, I don’t think that it meant anything to her. She rejected him and then came to find me.”

Her words do nothing to make him feel better. 

Robin looks at him, anxiously. She knows how resentful Eddie can be when he’s hurt and by the look on his face, she knows that he is deeply hurt. 

“Are you guys coming?” Chrissy asks, interrupting Robin who was just about to say something. 

Eddie looks down with a clenched jaw. He doesn’t even want to be here anymore. 

“Yeah. Come on, Eddie.”

Eddie follows begrudgingly. He knows that he shouldn’t feel that way. It shouldn’t hurt as much. You are still just friends after all, you are not his girlfriend, you are not his, your heart isn’t his. 

You never gave any signs that you wanted him back, not even once. 

He shouldn’t be this upset. He shouldn’t feel so jealous. 

But it isn’t just the kiss or the kisses. 

You have only spent one evening with Steve, kissed him twice and you are already distancing yourself from him. Ignoring him and his calls. He is already losing you. 

His mood only gets worse when he finds you sitting next to him, giggling at something he said to you. He rolls his eyes and sits down on the other side of you. 

You turn away from Steve and towards him, smiling at him, “hey.”

“Hey,” he grumbles. 

He doesn’t even see the creased brows or the saddened look in your eyes, he’s staring at the white screen. 

“How was the campaign last night?” 

“Good.”

“Okay,” you mumble and lean back again, you frown in confusion. Is he this upset over some salted popcorn? 

Steve looks over at Eddie, his jaw is clenched, he blinks faster than usual, he is pissed. He was pissed before but not like this, he seemed to have calmed down on the drive here and even while they were at the counter, buying snacks, he seemed fine and even laughed and teased him, now he just looks angry. 

He glances at Robin who sits next to him, she is chewing on her bottom lip and bouncing her knee, completely ignoring Chrissy’s rambling. The room might be dark, but Steve can see the guilt in her eyes. 

“Hey Robin,” he whispers. 

She rolls her eyes at him, “what?”

“You didn’t tell Eddie about the kiss did you?” He whispers, careful that you aren’t listening. 

She freezes a little and that is enough of an answer. Shit. Steve doesn’t really care about Eddie or about what he feels. He understands him but he still doesn’t care. 

He cares about you. Back at your house, he saw the way you avoided Eddie’s eyes, the way you looked so scared and guilty, you were scared of his reaction that’s why you avoided him. You didn’t want him to know. 

Now he knows and you don’t know that he does. 

“Are you not gonna tell me about it?” Steve hears you asking him. 

Eddie doesn’t even glance at you, he only leans further away from you. 

“I would’ve told you if you picked up the fucking phone last night.”

You’re taken aback by the anger in his words, by the curse words that he never ever directed at you. 

Normally, you would have said something but the guilt that you are still feeling makes you unable to talk. Besides, you are too intimidated to say anything back, scared that he will lash out on you because, clearly, he is deeply upset about something. 

Steve watches how you turn away from him, you roll your eyes but the sadness gives away how hurt you are by Eddie’s attitude towards you. 

Steve glares at Eddie, the urge to whack him across his curly head is strong. 

He nudges your shoulder and gives you a soft smile when you look at him, “you okay?” 

You hesitate, “...yes.”

Eddie narrows his eyes to look at the two of you and he keeps doing it during the whole movie. 

Normally, you would comment on certain scenes, so would he. Normally, you would laugh together and you would lean your head on his shoulder, he would wrap his arm around you. 

Today, he leans away from you and after a few attempts to talk to him or make him laugh, you give up when he keeps brushing you off. You lean away from him as well. He doesn’t comment on anything and neither do you anymore. He is still pissed and you are still tense, your mind is filled with thoughts that you don’t want to think about and despite the painkillers you took earlier, your stomach is still cramping. You are hurting today. 

Despite the funny moments in the movie, you cannot laugh, in fact, you feel like crying – whether it’s your period making you overly emotional or just Eddie.

Eddie is giving you the cold shoulder and it hurts, it fucking hurts. 

He had never done anything like that to you before. 

You have been close friends for almost a year now and not once had he said or done anything to hurt you. But now, he is giving you the silent treatment, the cold shoulder and you can’t stand it because it’s something that Steve used to do to you. 

Whenever he was upset about something, he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t tell you what was going on in his mind, he wouldn’t tell you what you did wrong, he would simply give you the cold shoulder and ignore you for the rest of the day.

And now Eddie is doing the same to you. 

Eddie who you thought would never do this. 

The moment the credits start rolling, you jump up from the seat and push past Eddie. You rush out of the room after making up some excuse that you have to use the bathroom. 

“Is she okay?” Chrissy asks Eddie. 

“How would I know?” He snaps at her and gets up as well, leaving the others behind as he makes his way out as well. 

Chrissy scrunches her face up and looks at Robin, “what’s gotten into him?”

“Jesus..” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, “what a brat.” 

“Who?” Chrissy asks as she takes a proper look at his face for the first time today, “Eddie?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re right,” she mutters under her breath as she gets up, “I can’t believe I’d ever agree with you.”

Steve isn’t offended by her words. He knows that your friends never liked him and he doesn’t blame them. They have always been protective of you and of your feelings, something that he wasn’t when you were dating. 

“Let’s just go,” Robin says, “I need the pizza now.”

After some internal pep talk and five minutes of trying to keep yourself from breaking down, you leave the bathroom and step back into the empty hallway – almost empty hallway. You are almost startled by his presence. Out of all your friends, you didn’t expect to see him waiting for you. 

You halt in your tracks. He is looking at you the same way he did when he just came to your place. 

Eddie looks at your eyes, he notices the glassiness right away, whether you cried or not, he feels awful, despite the jealousy and the anger that he is still feeling. 

“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” You finally snap at him. 

If he wasn’t so on edge already, he would’ve laughed and he would’ve loved the cute frown on your face. 

If he didn’t have a sleepless night, he maybe wouldn’t have been so pissed but the sleepless night was your fault. 

Even through the angry haze, he can see how beautiful you look today – you always look beautiful but something about the way you look today makes his heart race even faster. Maybe it’s the new skirt or maybe it’s the way you did your makeup or the fact that you are wearing his ring – you always wear it but, somehow, it means even more to him that you are wearing it today, even after the kiss with him. 

Eddie never gets to answer your question. 

Your friends join the two of you and interrupt your little tense moment. 

“Let’s go, we’re gonna order some pizza.”

You tear your eyes away from his, sighing as you walk past him. 

“Yeah, can we order? I don’t feel like eating there.”

Robin and Chrissy nod. They pull you away from Eddie and Steve. 

Both men stay behind for a moment, Eddie looks at the ground, a mixture of guilt and anger still deep in his features. 

Steve wants to say something and he opens his mouth but decides against it. Anything that he will say, will only anger the metalhead even further and he doesn’t want to risk making things worse.

So he turns around and walks away. 

You are surprised to see Robin and Steve sharing a knowing look when you all get back into his car, they both take a look at Eddie, who is silent, unlike on the drive here. 

Chrissy leans closer to you, she cups her hand over her mouth, “did something happen between you and Eddie?” She whispers, giving you a look of concern and confusion. 

You shake your head at her and shrug. You are just as confused. 

Her eyes soften when she sees the worry and the hurt in your eyes, she gives you a sad smile and takes ahold of your hand, trying to comfort you. 

Your lips twitch, you squeeze her hand back before you turn away, looking out the window instead. 

The day started off good, the sun was shining and the breeze was warm but, just like your mood, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The clouds appeared like dark shadows over the pretty blue sky and the breeze turned into a harsh wind. It isn’t raining yet but you know it’s about to start falling any minute.

Somehow, the weather always matches your mood. 

“I thought we were getting pizza?”

You were so focused on watching the clouds move, you didn’t pay attention to where you were driving. 

Your eyes light up a little when you see the McDonald’s sign. 

“Y/n doesn’t want pizza,” Steve says as he pulls into the drive through, “she wanted burgers.”

For a moment, you forget about Eddie’s anger, the pain in your stomach or the guilt. Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you have been craving burgers and fries all day. 

“Oh! Fries too, please, Stevie!” 

You don’t hear Eddie’s scoff over Steve’s chuckle, “I know, dolly.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clenches his fist.

“Does anyone want anything?” 

Eddie mumbles a ‘no’. 

Robin simply shakes her head and Chrissy leans closer to Robin to look out the window, reading the menu board. 

“Oh, can I have a strawberry milkshake?” Chrissy asks shyly, already reaching for the walled in her purse but you stop her, placing your hand over hers. 

“I got it, Chris.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Steve mumbles, looking over his shoulder, he glances at you both, “I’ll pay.”

She raises her brows, forcing a smile as she mumbles a quiet ‘thanks’. 

Robin is awfully quiet and you just notice it now when Chrissy leans back and you get to take a look at her. She keeps running her fingers through her hair, looking out the window with tense shoulders, just like Eddie. 

What the hell is going on?

Chrissy looks just as clueless as you though.

When Steve hands you the bag and the milkshake, a few minutes later, you almost squeal in excitement. Chrissy laughs at the look on your face and takes the milkshake from your hand. 

“Do you wanna share?” She asks, offering you the drink after taking the paper off the straw. 

“No thanks, I need the fries now.” You rip open the bag, the smell of greasy food makes your mouth water, “I’m so hungry,” you mumble as you reach for the fries. 

“Want some?” You ask Chrissy and Robin, “I’ll share, it’s too much for me anyways.” 

Robin shakes her head, “nah, I’ll wait for the pizza.”

Chrissy takes some, “you’re missing out, Robin.”

“Right?” You mumble through a mouthful, “you gotta dip them, Chris.”

“Not in a strawberry milkshake though!” She laughs, “it’s gotta be vanilla.”

Steve glances at you through the rearview mirror. His heart flutters when he sees the smile on your face. 

“Do you guys want some?” You ask, offering some to Steve and Eddie.

“It’s all yours, hangry,” Steve chuckles, using an old nickname. 

“I’m not hangry!” You slap his shoulder. 

“You want some Eddie?” You ask softly. 

He shakes his head, continuing to give you the cold shoulder. So he really is mad at you. Eddie never says no to fries, he steals some from your plate every time you go out to eat – or he finishes the ones that are left on your plate when you get too full to finish eating them yourself. 

You exhale and slump back in your seat, feeling sad all over again. 

You look down at the fries, suddenly, not feeling as hungry as you did before. Still, you continue snacking on the fries, choosing to save the burger for later. 

Chrissy looks at you worriedly when you frown and look down at your food, sadly, not as happy as you did a few moments back. She knows that you had been struggling in the past few months, you haven’t been eating as much and whenever you do, you quickly lose your appetite. Whether it’s the past memories that take away your appetite or something else – you have a problem. A problem that Eddie usually tries to help you with. 

She doesn’t know what happened but she can’t help but glare at the metalhead. 

But Robin is acting off too, so when you finally arrive back at your place and you all walk into your house. Chrissy takes Robin’s hand and pulls her away to the dining room to talk to her. 

“We’re gonna order the pizza!” Chrissy shouts as they disappear in the hallway. 

“Uh – okay.” 

Throwing your cardigan and your purse on the dresser, you walk into the living room. 

“Should I get some drinks?” Steve asks you, following you. 

“I can do it–”

“No, sit down, I’ll get some,” Steve mumbles, giving you a smile before he walks past you, disappearing in the kitchen. 

You reach for the remote to turn on some music on the TV, you always need the background noise, even in a room full of people. From the corner of your eye, you see him. You are surprised that he’s still here, you figured that he’d take his van and leave the moment Steve parked the car in your driveway. 

A part of you wants to say something but the other part doesn’t. You don’t want to give him the silent treatment back, you are just scared of his explanation. 

On the way home, you kept trying to figure out what made him so angry. 

Did he know about the kiss? Did Robin tell him? Is he upset about that?

Even if he knows, he can’t be upset about it – even when you think about what Nancy said to you, it still makes no sense. Why would he be upset? You aren’t together. You are not his girlfriend. 

Then again, it doesn’t explain your guilty feeling either. Just like you aren’t his, he isn’t yours. You have no reason to feel so guilty about kissing Steve – you can kiss whoever you want. 

Besides, you went on a date with Ray and even kissed him before he turned into a major douchebag – Eddie never got upset about the fact that you wanted to go on a date. So he can’t be upset about this either, right?

It has to be something else. 

Is he sick of you?

Did he finally realize that you aren’t worth his time?

Did he have a sudden change of heart just like Steve did when he went from loving boyfriend to awful boyfriend overnight?

Did your radio silence piss him off that much?

He is still standing by the doorway. 

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him and of course, it doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You still don’t say anything though, too afraid to make things worse. 

The tugging in your chest gets even worse, if that is even possible. 

“What’s wrong, dolly?” 

All appetite is lost the moment you hear the mocking in his voice. You still blame your emotions on your period but deep down, you know that it’s not that. 

You feel the coil in your throat, the hollow feeling in your stomach and the sickness in your chest. You don’t know whether you want to throw up or break into tears. 

You can’t take this, not from him. 

His words weren’t even bad or offending in any way but to hear the tone in his voice, to receive the cold shoulder from someone who you wouldn’t hesitate to give your everything to, makes you feel like you’re taken back to Halloween – where it all fell apart.

“Did you have fun last night?” 

His question makes you frown. For the first time, you look at Eddie with a glare. 

“I did.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he scoffs and looks away. 

What the hell?

Chrissy and Robin walk into the room, both looking a little tense. 

“Uh, pizza is ordered,” Chrissy says awkwardly. 

She notices your heavy breathing and the way you are blinking quickly. The way you keep glancing at Eddie who refuses to look at you. 

Steve comes back into the room with a few cans of coke, he places them on the small table. Steve’s presence seems to anger Eddie even further and Chrissy is starting to get annoyed by the attitude that spawned out of nowhere. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Chrissy asks you. 

Eddie is not looking at you. He isn’t even glancing at you. He doesn’t care. Why doesn’t he care anymore? What happened? 

Your eyes burn. You can’t sit here any longer, you get up and walk away. 

“Hey, do you not want to eat your food?” Steve asks, pointing to the takeout on the table. 

“Not hungry,” you mumble. 

“But, you haven’t eaten all day!”

Suddenly, Eddie feels even worse than he did before. He let his anger control him, all fucking day. 

Steve sees your trembling lip and the tears in your eyes when you look back for a split second before you brush past Eddie and disappear into the hallway. 

Chrissy calls out for you, jumping up from the couch, she runs after you, bumping into Eddie on purpose with a death glare. 

He looks down with a sigh. 

Steve has had enough of his behavior. He shakes his head in disbelief before he walks over to him, startling Eddie by grabbing his shoulder roughly, pushing him forward. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie snaps at him, trying to push Steve’s hands off of him but the latter has a strong grip on him and he pushes him towards the entrance, ripping the door open, he pushes him out. 

For a moment, Eddie thinks that he’s getting kicked out. 

Robin jumps up, looking panicked as she watches them both leaving the house. She follows behind, opening the door that Steve just slammed shut. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Eddie asks, pushing Steve’s hands off with force.

“What’s my problem?” Steve chuckles in disbelief, pointing to himself. 

Eddie scoffs and looks away. 

“Get your fucking jealousy in check before you keep hurting her!” Steve yells over the harsh rain that is falling. 

“She is not – I-I’m not..”

“Yes, you fucking are. You were fine before the movie, so I’m guessing you –” he points at Robin, who breaks eye contact right away and slumps, “told him something and I have a pretty fucking good idea of what it is!”

Eddie’s shoulders slump, he looks down, his eyes are burning. 

“It’s just–” Eddie’s words get cut short because what can he say? How can Eddie tell him he is mad because he can’t compare himself to Steve Harrington? How can he tell him that he isn’t just jealous but also hurting? How can Eddie say anything at all when he has no chance whatsoever? 

For a split second, Steve is able to see through Eddie, the look in his eyes gives it all away. 

“Eddie,” he sighs, hurting himself with what he is about to say. He could lie to him, he could leave it all like this, be your knight in shining armor and pick you up after today but he won’t use Eddie’s insecurities and your vulnerability to weasel his way back into your heart. 

Steve looks up, taking a deep breath. 

“She pushed me away when I kissed her and I think we all know why.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen. 

“Now get your ass up there and fix it,” Steve says angrily. 

A million questions run through Eddie’s mind but now is not the time to ask them. Steve won’t take no for an answer. He simply nods before he walks back into the house. 

Robin crosses her arms over her chest, she is impressed by Steve. She’s a little surprised, she expected a fight to break out, she didn’t expect this to be cut… so short.

“Good job, Dingus.” 

He rolls his eyes at her, “let’s get inside.”

Chrissy is standing in front of the bathroom door, leaning against it as she keeps trying to convince you to come out. 

“Please, y/n,” she sighs, softly. 

Eddie eyes the cheerleader warily, for someone with such a kind face, she sure gave him the kind of death glare that even intimidated him. 

He takes a deep breath. 

“Can I try?”

She turns around at the sound of his voice, snapping her head up with a frown. Her brows knit together, her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes but steps away from the door nonetheless. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, “don’t mess it up, Munson.”

That is a threat. Yeah, with the look on her face, it definitely is a threat. 

He really messed up. 

He knocks on the door softly, closing his eyes as he tries to calm his breathing. 

“Sweetheart,” he speaks with a much gentler voice than before, “can we talk?”

Silence. 

“Please?”

He opens his eyes when the faint click of the lock sounds through the hallway. He grabs the doorknob and twists it, he opens the door and steps inside. You are sitting on the edge of the bathtub, wiping away the tears that keep rolling down your cheeks – because of him. 

But why? Why would you cry over him? 

You look up at him with glossy eyes and you rise to your feet. 

“D-Do you hate me Eddie?” 

His eyes widen and he shakes his head quickly.

Eddie doesn’t even hesitate, he immediately pulls you into a tight hug. His own heart breaks, not once in his life did he think he would hurt you but, here he was, causing you pain because of his own selfishness.

He can feel you clinging to him, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your tears are seeping through his shirt but he doesn’t mind. 

“No baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid,” he sighs, not even noticing the nickname that rolled off his tongue so naturally. 

“I don’t want to lose you, Eddie.”

The trembling in your voice and the sadness makes his heart hurt even more. 

Not once in his life was anyone ever scared to lose him, yet, here you are, the girl that he loves, scared to lose him. You could have anyone, you could have Steve but you are scared to lose him. 

Whether it’s platonically or not – you are scared to lose him and that has to mean something. 

“You won’t lose me, I promise, you won’t,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head. “I’m so sorry – fuck,” he blinks his own tears away, hating himself for what he did. “I’m such an asshole.”

You only hug him tighter in response. 

“No, you’re not,” you mumble, “just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

“I’m so–”

“Stop apologizing. Just hold me,” you mumble into his chest, “we can talk later.”

“Okay,” he whispers, hugging you even tighter. 

This is what you need. To be held and comforted by him. 

You lean your chin on his chest and look up at him, “will you stay with me tonight?” 

For some reason, your question has him stunned.

You have had sleepovers before, many sleepovers in fact. But, something feels different. He doesn’t know what it is but something has shifted. 

Something has shifted between the two of you after last night, he felt it earlier already and he feels it now as well.

His heart thumps wildly in his chest and he’s sure that you can feel it because he can feel yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay with you.”

-

tagging mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @xxhellfirebunnyxx @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @succubusmunson @chrissymjstan @somethingvicked

[ushijimaschubbs]

"just please understand...."

an: im sorry if this sucks I have exams and i really wanted to finish this request. this is not proofread btw. based on this request. have fun reading anon and thank you so much for this adorable request <33

synopsis: reader has a bad luck in love and their bestfriend kuroo picks up the pieced after heartbreak while he's in love with them.

1.2k words

pairings: timeskip bestfriend!kuroo tetsurou × reader

warnings: breakup, cheating, reader has bad luck in love leading to multiple heartbreaks, slight angst

the sunlight felt too bright this morning as you tried to shield yourself from it by covering your face with the nearest pillow. the dreadful memories from last night started clouding your mind when you remembered how you had to break up with your ex boyfriend because you found him flirting with multiple girls online. tears rolled down your the bridge of your nose as you tried to find your phone on the table, only to see 20 missed calls from kuroo. you sprang up from your bed and called him immediately knowing he is going to be pissed off because you probably drunk dialled him last night after the brutal breakup.

"oh wow look who has decided to wake up. it's 1pm", kuroo spat on the other line.

"I'm really sorry, kuroo. i was having a really awful night okay? please don't shout at me I'm still so hungover", you cried, falling back into the mattress.

"i don't remember the last time you had a good night actually, princess. i was really worried for you and I couldn't even check up on you because I'm still on this business trip", he sounded annoyed and pissed off and this really wasn't the first time. you didn't blame him since you did find yourself in horrible situations ever so often in your love life. cupid did not do anything for you because if it had, you wouldn't end up with rat looking, bad kissers every time you had a liking for someone. you were simply questioning your taste at this point and kuroo was clearly growing tired of watching you struggle, and worse cry yourself to sleep ever so often.

what you didn't know was how much kuroo longed for you but he was too scared to admit it in the fear of rejection and the loss of his bestfriend, he didn't want to give up something so precious only for it to break into pieces in future, if it ever does that is.

"i promise i won't jump into anything too hastily after this okay? and when are you returning? i really miss your stupid face, jackass", you replied, trying to lighten the mood because you knew kuroo was furious right now.

"im returning in a week and i swear I will keep my eyes on you at all times because I really don't like seeing you like this, y/n. you're my bestfriend and you deserve so much better please",he sighed and proceeded to hang up as his coworker urged him to the meeting room.

after this call, you swore to yourself you won't go out with any guy anymore no matter what happened but guess what, it hadn't even been two weeks before you were going insane over your new neighbour. his blonde locks and hazel eyes had you on a chokehold and you rambled on about it to kuroo who knew this was not going to end well. you went on two dates with this neighbour guy and gushed about him to your bestfriend, describing where he took you, how he treated you, how he paid for your dates blah blah.

"that's very bare minimum, y/n. I've done way more for you and you know that", kuroo blurted out in the middle of your rambling.

"yeah but he's not you, stupid. he's sweet, and kind and he has such beautiful hands you have no idea", starry eyed you went to bed peacefully that night not knowing what was going to take place the next day.

it was your third date now with this neighbour boy and he took you to a classy family restaurant, pulled your chair to seat you, ordered your favourite food and ran circles on your calves with his toes as he looked into your eyes. that was until a girl who had just entered the restaurant stormed towards your table and started screaming on top of her voice about how this guy was her boyfriend, and they had been going out for months now. you couldn't register what she was saying, the noise of shouting and him explaining himself drowned as you lost balance and fell on the chair. your head hurt and you knew you had to leave immediately. you ran towards the road, looking down in shame and got into the nearest cab. the entire night you kept calling kuroo, hoping to confide in him only to remember that he was supposed to be on a date too leading you to cry yourself to sleep that night.

you woke up to several knocks on your door and someone shouting your name outside loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. you made your way towards the door and found kuroo sweating profusely and out of breath.

"I'm so sorry y/n I'm really sorry I passed out last night after the date and my phone was on silent are you fine is everything okay??"

"yeah don't worry my bad luck in love just doesn't seem to leave", you sighed, plopping on the cream coloured sofa in your living room.

"what happened this time?"

"he was already in a relationship"

kuroo was usually always annoyed everytime you would tell him about a crush, or a bad date or even a relationship but this time he looked enraged.

"you can't be that blind right y/n"

"huh what do you mean"

"i mean we've been friends for almost idk our entire life and we've spent literally every fucking day together. there hasn't been a single day I have wanted to wake up and the only reason why I do anyways is you. you are my first thought of the day and every other thought after that and I simply cannot go on even a day more without saying this to you but I've always and always loved you y/n and I'm tired of other undeserving men breaking your heart everytime and I will not stand it anymore. my heart beats for you everyday so please..." he breathes hard "just please understand." he was now standing right over you, his eyes not leaving your face for even a second as you tried to process each of his words.

"kuroo what how why have you never told me this", you cried wondering how oblivious you were to all his feelings for so long.

"because I don't want to lose you. i never ever want to have to go through the loss of you as my bestfriend and i cannot risk that but I also can't see your heart break everytime because of some jerk and if that means risking our friendship I don't mind because I want you to be mine only", he urged as he sat next to you, taking your hand in his and caressing your fingers with his thumb.

"you'll never lose me kuroo, I promise you that. trust me. I'm sorry for being so unaware of what you felt for me. why don't we start by going on a date first? is that fine?", you said while closing the distance between you two by pressing your lips on his, your noses touching slightly. he was gentle and soft and you could taste the shared breath, feel the thud of your combined heartbeat as he held you close, making sure he's never letting you go again.

[coichii]

BROWNIE BATTER - FELIX

pairing - bf!felix ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.6k

warnings: mentions of food, smooching

A/N : happy birthday felix <3 we all love you sm! (On an unrelated note I’ve been getting a lot of verbal engagement really which I really appreciate so much :)) thank you guys for readying my works!)

“I found the cocoa powder Lix!” You yell out. The boy responds with a small screech, making you giggle.

It was Felix’s birthday today. You’re not complaining about how the day was turning out now, but you do wish you hadn’t let Felix talk you out of taking him somewhere special.

When you had proposed the idea, he immediately said “a day spent with you is the perfect one for me” which of course, awe! but also ughh. You just want to show him your love, but, if this is what he wants to do on his birthday, you’ll oblige.

“Good, that’s means we don’t have to buy some anymore.” You hear him pant as he runs back towards you.

“Great, now all we need is some flour. Could you check the cabinets babe?” He nods at you, following your instructions and beginning to scavenge the cabinets.

While he’s looking, you begin to mix the ingredients you already had together. “Ok, cocoa powder, butter, sugar, anddd flour. Thank you baby!” you chirp as he walks back over to you, flour in hand.

He pours the flour into the mixing bowl and begins to stir. You watch silently as he focuses on getting the right consistency. He looks so adorable like this, all fixated on the task at hand.

“Done!” He cheers. “Wanna taste?”

You nod as he places the spatula near your mouth for you to lick. It taste amazing. It’s the perfect amount of sweetness and texture. Felix’s recipes were always perfect, but these were immaculate.

“Lix, your recipe is so good! These are delicious baby” you smile, grabbing the spatula to feed it to him. “Mhm you’re right! These taste extra good today.”

“It’s because I helped you” You giggle. He giggles back, flashing that smile of his that fills your heart with so much happiness.

He grabs the mixture before putting it into a pan. Every move of his is careful and calculated as to not spill any. Once he finishes he puts the brownie mix into the oven and sets it for 30 minutes.

“I still wish you had let me take you out” you turn to him, pouting which makes him chuckle. “Hey what’s funny!”

“You wanting this day to be perfect when it already is.” He teased. “Baby, I love everyday spent with you. This day is just as special.”

Felix always had a way with his words, making you swoon for him each time he opened his mouth. A blush formed on your face as you were about to respond, but he kept speaking.

“You know how earlier you said the brownies tasted better because you helped?” You nod. “I think- no I know that’s the truth. As cliché or corny as it sounds, I think the extra ingredient was love, because this is the best birthday I have ever had.”

You have no words to respond to him with, to lovestruck to think. All you can do is press your lips against his in a loving kiss.

The kiss is gently but passionate, Felix wrapping his arms around your waist. It’s soft and loving, saying things words could never describe. He grabs you and pulls you in deeper, inhaling softly.

The only thing pulling you out of the kiss is the sound of a ding!

“The brownies are done!” he says against your lips, regretfully pulling away to pull them out of the oven.

“Thank you baby, this is truthfully the best birthday I’ve ever had.” He said, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was being sincere.

All this moment does is solidify your need to be together forever, love pouring out of every part of him. It re-solidifies it for him too, the diamond ring in his dresser that he can’t wait to surprise you with is doing the same thing.

back to masterlist…

[blueparadis]

꒰ ME AND YOU ꒱ ⋮ SAKUSA KIYOOMI → [ CONTENT & TAGS ] :: f!reader x sakusa kiyoomi, fluff, undertones of angst and smut, mutual pinning, reader is achingly shy and kiyoomi just loves it; word count :: 1k

The first time Kiyoomi sneaks into your room is not something he had thought of doing when he saw you for the first time. He always had a wild range of vision regarding you, about what he would do and what he would not; what he would make you do and what he would not. He has thought about how elegant you looked in your formal attire, how alluring you look when you laugh, and how tempting you look when you are talking to others while presenting a power point; makes him envy every person you have ever been with or will be. He has even thought of how he will court you and make you fall for him. The positions he will explore with you and the places he would mark, count your moles, and kiss them over and over till they fade. Heck, he has imagined a wedding with you. He has it all planned.

But after being in a relationship with you he is suddenly forced to remain in your vicinity; that is foreign to him. He has always been admiring you from the sidelines. He is not used to being converged with you in one portal. It is too soon. At the same time, he can not resist you. You are like a kaleidoscope to him, the more he watches you, the greater becomes his fondness towards you.

So, when he sneaks into your room late at night, through the giant window he stands like a toddler who has been caught stealing midnight snacks. He sees you in your nightwear yet is baffled by how cozy and beautiful you look, it makes him want to jump in your arms and soak in your warmth. It is still summer but you have always been a sensitive person. He likes how tempting you appear even if you do not wear such revealing clothes every time. Even now; makes him wanna hold you and never let go. But he resists. He resists because he does not have any idea what to do — and when you walk towards him he backs away. You might think he is regretting his decision for coming here. He is but not for the same reasons as you. Your rub your arms as the cold breeze tickles your skin.

“Close the window. Please.” your voice is different than usual, somewhat angelic if he were to describe it.

“Yeah,” he responds hurriedly and does what you asked him to do. When he turns around you pat on the bed asking him to sit. He sits. You play with your fingers being in the same boat as his. You do not know what to do either. You do not even know what you should have done when he asked if he is coming over to see you over text— whether to say yes or no. He is not supposed to be here yet here he is sitting beside you looking at you in awe. It has almost been a minute.

“had . . .” the sound of his voice feels foreign to him. Gosh! how nervous is he? He clears his throat and speaks, “Had your dinner?”

You nod looking at him. He smiles. “and you?”

“Yeah, I did.” He replies instantly looking at you, resting his upper body pressure on his palms dipping the mattress of your bed. “But I still feel so hungry.” His eyes are now scanning the room as you flash at his take. He is making eye contact but it is not intimidating in any way. It seems like he is holding back, “You look good.”

There it is. He always says that. He compliments you and then averts his eyes. You laugh rolling your eyes remembering how the last time he shattered all your hopes of narrowing the gulf between you and him. That is when he knew he cannot hold it anymore. The temper, the look of disappointment carefully curated with forgiveness, the kind that screams how much have you been wronged in the past, how much you have been hurt yet you still manage to be kind — makes him wanna ruin you, prove you wrong.

“Fuck it.” He hisses under his breath. You look at him with surprise in his eyes taken aback by the change in demeanor and you are suddenly touched by his lips on yours. His hands are still on the bed, by your back but he just leaned to kiss you, hungrily. He keeps kissing without touching you, switching angles, sucking your lips at intervals and when you pull away trying to take a breather he wraps one of his arms around your waist pulling your body closer while the other fervently holds your face. There is no way to escape him. He has you fully caged.

For Sakusa, he is barely in control. He does not even gets to think, before that his arms are already sneaking under your t-shirt, touching you in all the places eliciting soft moans from you. His lips tactfully slides down the column of your throat, sucking and licking making you louder and warmer by each passing second. He feels your arms over his chest. Though he is wearing polo he feels the weight of your hands tugging at his heart. His teeth sink in, biting ferociously as you bite your bottom lip eyes pressed shut suppressing the moan. He immediately backs up, his hands still holding you as if you are the most fragile creature he has ever seen. His Adam apple bobs as he notices the bruised area near your shoulder. Instantly, he regrets coming here immensely. His eyes perk up to look at you and he is mesmerized by the way you look. Your lips hung open, inhaling as much as you possibly can, eyes glossy, lips a little puffed and ready for more.

“Tsk,” You feel his hands peel off you but before he can retract completely you swing to sit on his lap, hold his face and return the favor; retracing his actions on him. When you run your fingers through his nape into his curly locks, you feel his hands squeezing your waist muscles.

“Now we're even.” You pull away resting your hands on his shoulders while his are stilled on your waistline. As your hands slide down from his shoulders to his palms, his skin blooms full of goosebumps. You just kissed him back; just to get even. Such a fool you are to think he would let it end with just a kiss.

@angelshub

[lefty-scribes]

sunflower

Summary: After coming home late from a stressful day at work, Spencer needs nothing more than to be in your arms in order to feel like himself again. You offer your touch to him in more ways than one.

or

melodramatic handjob :>

Word Count: 3423

Songs: ‘cry’ by cigarettes after sex may fit !!

Pairing: softdomme!reader x sub!spencer

Warnings: smut (18+ please), choking (m receiving), spencer cries xoxo, fully consensual but his reactions are described as ‘involuntary’ sometimes, sudden tense switch at the end bc it felt right idk, 65% buildup, 15% action, 20% orgasm LOL

a/n: guys the transition from comfort to seggsy just happened out of nowhere and the pacing is aggressively slow, prob making this hard to get off to. i’m sorry. also if you don’t think you should be reading this (🔞) you’re probably right ?? but please don’t tell me about it. do comment anything else though if you're feeling up to it :3

With a twist of his hand on the doorknob and a step through the door, Spencer took his long awaited whiff of home. It smelled of cedarwood and floral candles and you, and the tension released from his shoulders completely for the first time today.

He walked straight to the bedroom where he knew you’d still be up waiting for him, door open with a lit bedside light to welcome him despite his insistence that your sleep is more important. The urge didn’t even come up to wash his hands, disinfect his phone, or sanitize his work bag, being replaced instead by his desire to be in your presence.

As he’d suspected, there you were, sitting up on the bed you shared, eyes fighting to stay open as they flitted through the pages of a book. The comforter covered your legs, and only a thin sleep shirt separated your back from the headboard you leaned against, the shape of your nipples hardly poking through. Spencer hesitated to walk in and ruin the pretty picture.

When you noticed him, a fond smile grew on your face and you dropped your book to open your arms wide for him. He slowly walked over to you, stomach twisting just a little at the fear of being a bother, and started to position himself as he did whenever he needed a bit of extra comfort. He gave you a quick peck and settled down so his head rested on your lap, lying down on his side with his arm hugging your bare thighs. His long frame curled sideways by your legs under the blanket. He said nothing when you combed your fingers through his hair—just held you a bit tighter; nuzzled his cheek impossibly closer.

You broke the silence, absentmindedly separating small locks of his hair now with your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” you asked, to which he shook his head, movement still restricted by your thighs on his cheek, hating that he didn’t have more to say. Hated to have to make you pry just to hear about his day, but all the more in awe of how attuned you were to his emotions—even more than he was sometimes. Hated being moody and uncommunicative, but his brain was betraying him.

Your thumb now stroked his eyebrow, smoothing it out. Every part of him that your fingers touched relaxed in its wake, coupled with the scent of your lotion and laundry into his breaths. He finally spoke up, voice slightly muddled from his cheek against your leg; perhaps he sounded like his handwriting would sound, though he hoped he was more understandable than that.

“Per hour of sleep we lose, human blood pressure tends to increase by 3 to 5 millimeters of mercury, so you waiting up for me this late probably already caused an increase of 10 mmHg. Cortisol levels can also increase by up to 80% when sleep deprived, and your reaction time can slow by up to 500 milliseconds, which will make it more unsafe for you to drive tomorrow.” I appreciate you so much, baby, but you shouldn’t have waited up, is what he wanted to say. It never came out that way. I love when you greet me. Don’t put your health at risk for me. I’m sorry I’m late. But it always came out instead as numbers and statistics because that’s all he knows how to do, and it’s the only way his voice knows how to love, but you get it. He wants to add more.

You get him. “Stop worrying, Spence. I need to see you just as much as you need to see me. Can’t sleep otherwise,” you assured him. Goosebumps rose on his skin as you rubbed slow, pressured circles onto his forehead, massaging him properly now. Maybe your words were supposed to make him feel better, but he couldn’t shake the guilt in his gut. His burden complex weighed heavier today.

“My Spencer,” you breathed. Heat rose onto his cheeks. Your Spencer. “What do you need from me?”

He laid still on your lap, face now turned upward to memorize your own, pondering on the question. Always too scared to ask, though he knew what he needed. “Anything you’ll give me,” he whispered.

Now freshly dried from his shower, Spencer walked toward where you stayed sitting on the bed just as you had been when he arrived. He stood completely bare before you, an unlikely mix of both self-consciousness and pride filling him as you looked him up and down. The implied power imbalance of your clothed decency juxtaposed with his nude vulnerability has just occurred to him; he felt a rush in his stomach.

You pulled the covers off and spread your legs apart, then patted the space in between. Spencer crawled onto the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to shake it too much, now unsure of how long he could last. He found a seat between your thighs, the outer edge of his legs lining the inner side of your own, his back flush against your torso.

Goosebumps rose on his skin when your hands trailed up his neck, grazing his ears, then his cheekbones, to comb themselves through his soft hair. He shivered, just once. His mouth parted slightly in a shaky exhale and his head lolled back toward you, as a cat would, until it rested gently on your shoulder, full trust in you to support him. His eyelashes fluttered to a close as you slowly but firmly squeezed your fingers into a closed fist against his scalp, hair tangled within your grasp, letting the leverage of your palms against his head do the tugging. Despite the tightness of the skin around his temples, his facial muscles only continued to relax as he silently handed you all control of him. He released a shallow gasp as you gave your wrists a slow twist before releasing his hair entirely.

You slid your fingers down to his nipples, running your thumbs over them each for not long enough. He let out a sigh that must’ve released more air than his lungs had the capacity to carry in the first place. The stresses of the day began to leave with it, Spencer being overcome instead by the relief of being back in the comfort of his own home—in the arms of his beloved. Your hand was cool against his humid skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. Ears ringing, he hardly heard his own voice releasing a shaky, dragged out, sh— shhhit, between gritted teeth.

Your hands trailed down even further toward his soft stomach which was scrunched into a bean-like mound from his position against you, grazing down his happy trail before ignoring his painful erection and inching toward his thighs instead. Your nails dragged gently over his inner thighs and he pried them open for you; all for you.

He whined under his breath and his legs flexed under your touch, only the duration of a single twitch, lifting his hips up subconsciously to contact your hands where he needed them most. You gently pushed him back down, wordlessly insisting on giving attention to his soft thighs, asserting that it was your pace being followed. And he couldn’t object. He didn’t want to. Always so patient with him, he longed for you to be proud of his obedience. His thighs were yours to touch, after all, and so was what rested now painfully hard between them.

His head still laying against your shoulder, you gently swiped your tongue against his ear lobe, getting his attention. You whispered to him, and he was so receptive to you. “Do you think you’re ready?”

He didn’t need to see it to know, but he glanced down anyway, his cheeks burning up to a colour he imagined matched his throbbing penis. He ached to be touched there, swallowing at the thought.

He hummed lazily in response, already lightheaded from the rush in his head. He tilted his head in slow roll to place clumsy kisses all over your face, whatever part of it he could reach, nodding continuously to please touch me, I’m ready. He thought his lips had caught your nose, cheekbones, ear, jaw… but at that point he’d already been intoxicated by your touch and couldn’t tell the difference; only wanted to taste the saltiness of your supple skin.

“Words, Spence.” With his head still turned to you, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and nipped at it until it puffed up, drawing a light whimper from him. He arched his neck sideways to grant you access to the rest of him that your lips and teeth could reach. More of him now exposed to you, he quietly pleaded as you lightly sucked on sensitive points behind his jaw. A lone tear slipped out of his eye closest to you, and you lapped it up as it hung from his jaw.

“Ready. Always ready for you,” he choked, voice already hoarse. Your ability to take him to the clouds far before touching the most sensitive part of him only turned him on further, as well as the nurturing and patient but complete control you exerted. He was undeserving and yet eternally grateful. Swore to himself he’d spend the rest of his days trying to love you as completely as you did him.

Upon squeezing out some lubricant from the bottle in your bedside drawer, you grasped his erection in your slick hand, your other hand exploring the rest of his body, and he gasped with an unintentional jolt. From this position you two were in, it allowed the ridges of your curled palm and fingers, as well as the coolness of your wedding ring, to make full contact with the sensitive vein along the underside of his cock.

You played him like an instrument, and the sounds he made proved nothing less. You’d glide your sharp knuckles over him, barely making contact with him, much to his protest; your hand would run along the thin, elastic stretch of skin connecting his head to the underside of his cock. Or you’d bunch your delicate fingertips together at his tip, letting the widening of his cock separate them as you pushed down toward his balls. He almost wished, as the pads of your fingers trailed his length, that your fingerprints could be ingrained in his skin, if only to be claimed by you even more. His breaths grew laboured and he slowly lost the shame in his whimpers.

Your other hand moved to his lips, muffling his sounds slightly. Your breath tickled his ears, and he threw an arm back to grasp your hair or neck or whatever he could grab, trying fruitlessly to get closer for you to ground him.

He whined helplessly against your now vibrating hand, though it did nothing to quiet his volume as you so creatively played with his cock, fidgeting with him and using him like nothing. Tension was prominent between his eyebrows sewn together, and surely his forehead carried a few creases as well.

You gently ran your thumb against his bottom lip, and he instinctively pulled it into his mouth. Your thumb pushed degradingly against the inside of his cheek, forcing his mouth to open slightly. His tongue circled your thumb out of habit, and the slightest bit of spit dribbled out the corner of his lips.

The room started to smell and feel like sweat, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was experiencing everything and nothing all at once, sensations heightened yet brain numbed. Rare were the occasions that he couldn’t explain everything, and the times where he couldn’t think straight, but he revelled in it. Nowhere else was Spencer able to be completely defenseless and equally safe but in your arms—or hands, in this case. His guard wholeheartedly down, he cherished the privilege of being worriless and thoughtless.

His brain’s unusual absence of words and knowledge—two things which he so dutifully guarded just to feel competent—was welcomed because you were around to protect his vulnerability in the meantime.

By now, from the sweat or his own sheer lack of control, Spencer had slid down slightly so his shoulder blades were flush with your breasts; your hard nipples pressed against him through the soft silk of your nightshirt and it reminded him how eager he was to return the favour. He was leaning back a bit more, hardly noticing the ache from his weight resting on his tailbone.

The position gave you access to move your working hand even lower, gentle fingers starting to toy with his balls before moving down toward the sensitive patch of skin right beneath. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth when you hit it, hums and groans gradually increasing in pitch. Against his own will, he clenched around nothing, causing his perineum to shift against your fingers. He choked out another embarrassingly loud sound, mouth shamelessly open now, and then did it again.

You kissed his jaw. “How do you feel?” you whispered. You gave more attention to the pink head now, fingers tickling his smooth tip, thumb pressing down periodically on the ridges. Your other hand played with hair.

“You treat me so well,” he breathed, as earnestly as he could, turning his head to give a sloppy kiss to your wrist, drunk on your touch, your warmth, and you. “Love you so much,"—he swallowed—"ah— oh, f— fuck— Love what you do to me.”

“You deserve it all.”

His moans got more high pitched as you worked, and his breaths came in faster than his chest could keep up with. His hands grasped at your thighs to steady himself, blunt nails digging in.

“My Spencer baby, you look oh so beautiful,” you praised, voice dripping in sheer adoration. His eyes drew open and his gaze rolled back, then lazily toward you. Another tear slowly escaped the corner of his eye, and he wished he weren’t tearing up if only to see your pretty face more clearly. His eyebrows were still tense under the nearness of his undoing, tilted in a pleading pout.

“Please, please-please-please-please-plea— mmngh…” He pleaded and begged for release, no longer making sense of what was coming out of his mouth, eyes ever-downturned and watering once again.

He was helplessly putty in your hands, his body no longer his own, but rather a shell of just euphoria and feeling. He was floating and completely at your mercy, just as he loves to be.

“I love you, please, I—” His sentences grew choppy and more and more incoherent, his speech being mixed with unintelligible throaty noises. His chest rose and fell significantly faster than it had earlier, lips hardly separating as he mumbled a yesyesyesyes keep going yes just like that please, and his hips thrusted up to move his length further into your hand.

His desperate hands sought purchase from whatever they could grab, now tightly squeezing and scratching at your thighs. He readjusted his sweat-slicked palms as they slipped down your skin.

Your hand in his hair slid down roughly to grab his jaw in utter possessiveness, twisting it up toward you to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. He did the best he could to return it. “Go ahead, baby,” you mumbled against his mouth.

He whimpered into the kiss, with no more capacity to spare you an audible ‘thank you’ as usual. You squeezed your working hand just the slightest bit tighter around his cock, working your way back up to his ever-sensitive pink head.

“Shitshitshitshit, fuck, oh, God. I’m so close, I’m so close, I’m so—ah—” How naughty he felt. Maybe you’d tease him later about the junk coming out of his mouth, flustering him with the thought of what the neighbours would think. But as a sunflower proved its affinity to the sun and its warmth, all he could do now was gaze at you mindlessly, his neck aching at the effort. Under the dim yellow lamp lighting up the room, he embodied the sunflower’s golden glow. Its face would follow the bright star by nature and so would Spencer's, happily compelled by some force of nature to show you his authentic self as he held on so close to his orgasm. You smiled at him.

The bed squeaked under his shaking legs. Lone tears made their way down his face, free-falling now, and he made no move to wipe them. As he neared his peak, you kept your hand on his cock, hand wrapped snugly around his tip, angling it toward his chest.

You grabbed his throat with the other, fingers squeezing inward toward the two valleys around his neck that carried his precious arteries, and he felt the first spurt of cum burst through with a loud wail of surprise.

“Baby—“ he tried breathlessly, eyes still attempting to meet yours to please understand what I’m saying, please be proud of me, “baby, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming, I’m…” His muscles spasmed and sharply leaned him forward, causing your hand to obstruct his throat just a bit more, and he was thankful for it if only to ground his shaking to a minimum.

His head was pounding and his vision grew spotty as he basked in the feeling of his life, and his penis, in your hands, and the purpose with which you handled him as he prayed for this state of euphoria to not simply kill him. Though that wouldn’t be a terrible way to go.

He fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, yet still saw only white. He was burning up and held no sense of himself as his muscles twitched in waves, knees buckling, though you were there to hold him through it all. His mouth opened in a silent scream as you continued moving your hand along his sensitive length.

His panting gradually became less breathy and more audible, now backed by a throaty groan with every breath he released. Your name became the only thought in his mind, and he let it shakily slip out of his mouth, not caring how absolutely brainless he sounded. With each spurt of his release onto his chest, each involuntary clenching and thrust of his hips, he repeated it. Whether a cry of pleading, gratitude, or adoration, he wasn’t certain—but it all centred around you.

You talked him through the final stages of his orgasm with gentle murmurs of praise, pushing his hips down to forcefully guide him through it. Good boy, Spencer. Keep going. I’m right here. You got it. You’re doing great. Almost done. I love you. You’re so safe here. Your ministrations on his sensitive penis didn’t slow as you patiently waited for him, though he had to rest his hand on your wrist to slow you down, eyes finally falling closed; you obliged. His body offered you one final tremor of overwhelming pleasure.

The horrors of the day seemed to have been released with his release. But with the way you were now atop him, cleaning up the mess on his chest with your tongue, then crawling back up to his own mouth to offer him a taste, he felt his once-against stiffening cock asking for more where that came from. His aftercare be damned. No longer overwhelmed by his need for solace, this new rise of arousal was geared toward you—thanking you, loving you, cherishing you, pleasuring you in the way his words so often failed to do.

He would do for you what you had so generously done for him, and more, if you’d let him. He could give you his tongue, his length, his fingers, a toy—or whatever you wanted. Offer himself to be used and taken however you pleased. Longed to give you everything he could. He was yours, after all. 

Spencer told himself that there would be time for all that, though he always worried otherwise. Keeps it in his head, but he pleads every day that you wouldn’t end up like those he sought justice for at work, or be the body that haunted him until he arrived home to you, or the victim of a target aimed at him. Pleads every day that there would be more time.

But in the meantime, with not much else he can do, just as a sunflower would, he swears to turn his back to everything else dark about the world and follow his sun as long as he is able.

[smoochhyuka]

What about bf!anton with a loud s/o hes so soft spoken how would he be

Such a cute idea! I am a little bit of a loud person myself, so this is quite self-indulgent, haha.

Anton with a loud s/o

You compliment each other perfectly.

○o。content warnings! SFW, gn!reader, established relationship, mention of alcohol, reader is described as loud, talkative, earnest, free-spirited and a little crazy/quirky, edited for spelling

You both struggle with volume, you're just on the polar opposites of the spectrum. Therefore, you can relate to each other well, always being told you're too quiet/loud, being criticized for your voices, or being teased about it.

Still, it might seem odd that someone as gentle and introverted as Anton would date someone as loud and chaotic as you, but you compliment each other perfectly.

He loves how enthusiastic you are, even about the littlest things, although you often startle him with your sudden outbursts.

"ANTON, look at that cute squirrel over there!" you squeal, tugging at his hand. Your boyfriend, clutching his heart with the other, breathes out heavily. He opens his eyes again after the initial shock, missing the squirrel. (the drama)

You never fail to hype him up. If he shows you something, whether it be a new song, something he decorated or his new muscle growth -- you're not afraid to praise him to the heavens and back. At first, he's shy about it, but later on in the relationship he'll take the praise, he might even make a few snarky remarks.

Since you're so honest about your feelings and thoughts, Anton also feels comfortable speaking a lot more openly about them around others, knowing it's okay to show vulnerability.

Thinks it's cute when you're acting a little crazy, dancing around the house or yapping until his ears bleed. He's seriously memorized by you, he's never bored. Sometimes he'll just sit on the sofa, cuddling a pillow or a plushie, and watch you/listen to you with a big grin on his face.

You always throw in a few compliments or confessions too, just so casually, it always makes his heart pound.

Your laugh is funnier than the joke itself. It's insane sounding, and he's living for it, always recording you when you're in a fit of laughter. Every time he misses you on tour, or if he's low on energy, he will just listen to these recordings.

Speaking of laughing, you two always have something to at least giggle about. Every week, you have a new running gag, meme or catchphrase you two repeat until everyone is sick of you two.

Around you, he feels so alive, you encourage him so much to step out of his comfort zone. He gets embarrassed easily, but when you're around, all shame leaves his body. Because you won't judge him, and everyone who does gets shut down by you.

He will match your energy after a few drinks, though, sometimes even surpassing you. You'll run around the streets, blasting music, dancing on park benches until the sun rises.

Naturally, some days he's quieter than the others, and he can always rely on you to make up for it, making sure he's heard. If it's an especially awful day (e.g. he's sick or in a bad mood), he'll just whisper to you what he wants, and you're announcing it to everyone in a 2-mile radius.

You always listen to him. Sometimes, especially in group settings, people tend to just not to hear him and not really care about what he said in the first place, but you always lean in when he says something and ask him to repeat himself if you didn't catch it. And you actually engage with it as well! Or bring it up later in the conversation, if it's relevant.

If you're speaking too loud in a setting where it's inappropriate, he'll grab your hand and squeeze it a few times, or maybe rub your lower back/shoulders if you didn't get the hint. He knows how humiliating it is to get called out publicly, so he'll always try to get you to relax by caressing you first.

He calls you his "little megaphone", my "crazy boy/girl", "professional yapper" or my "background/white noise" (lovingly <3)

As an introvert, he loves to have quiet moments, where he can just engage in some brain-dead activity... "brain-dead activity" = watching trash TV while listening to s/o's commentary. If he ACTUALLY needs some time for himself, he'll go write some music in his studio, knowing you won't join him (you are aware he can't write music while you're spinning around in a chair behind him, talking about lunch).

His social battery doesn't decrease with you. Everyone is surprised when Anton tells them (looking refreshed and energized, mind you) that you two spent the whole weekend together. They can't believe he didn't die from feeling overwhelmed.

He worries so much when you're quiet, or talk a lot more quietly, and he misses your chatter. It's a constant distraction, but in a good way. A vacation kind of distraction. He will talk in your place, filling the silence with random topics, hoping you might get distracted by your issues as well.

You learn to enjoy the quiet moments in life, and he gets more courageous. <3

[antisocialties]

Late Night Calls.

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: in which you call matt late at night when things aren’t going so well.

Warnings: mentions of mental health issues, angst, and etc.

To say today had sucked would’ve been an understatement to say the least.

Today was just one of those days where the second you woke up you felt like shit and wished you simply wouldn’t have waken up in the first place.

You looked up at the plain white ceiling with a blank and stoic look on your face. It was almost pitch black in your room, the tv wasn’t even turned on.

You couldn’t help but hate being alone right now with every aching bone in your body, thoughts racing through your head at a mile a minute. At this point you were quite convinced your head would never quiet down enough to sleep before the sun came up.

You rolled over from your back, reaching for the sheets beside you which your phone laid upon.

3:46 am. You let out an exhausted groan after seeing the time on your lockscreen. There was only one thing you could think to do right now that would actually get you to calm down and sleep.

You instantly clicked on your messages, clicking on Matt’s contact info and clicking the call button before sitting up with the sheets still covering your cold legs.

It rang a quite few times before being answered, you felt bad; assuming you’d waken him up from his slumber since you’d previously facetimed him a few hours ago before he’d said he was going to lay down after filming a car video with his brothers.

“Everything okay, babe?” He asked with a groggy and concerned voice.

“Not really, I still just can’t shake the low feeling i’ve had all day. I don’t even know why i’ve been feeling this shitty all day, I just know it won’t go away and I can’t sleep.” You confessed while holding back tears.

“You wanna talk about it some more?”

“Yes please. I’m really sorry for waking you up, I love you baby.” You quickly let out before interrupting your words with a sob.

You felt an immense amount of guilt for putting something this heavy on him, especially just after you’d woken him up so late.

“Y/n stop, you’re okay honey. I love you, the last thing I want is for you to be apologizing for coming to me when you need me most. We’ve already been over this countless times, you never need to apologize to me for things like this.” He spoke in a soothing but troubled tone.

Anytime you apologized for confiding in him with your issues, he couldn’t help but feel his heart break more and more each time. He never wanted you to feel like a burden to him, he’d never forgive himself if he couldn’t be there for you in your times of need.

“I love you.” you hiccuped, struggling to even get the words out as the pace of your sobs only got quicker and more violent.

You tried to force more words out to describe the heavy and dreadful feeling in your chest, but you couldn’t even form the proper words and were only met with heavy aching sobs.

“Alright i’m coming over, you don’t need to leave the door unlocked i’ll just bring my key.” He stated, no longer being able to hear your cries and not be able to do anything about them.

“Do you want me to bring anything?” He asked sincerely.

“I’m not gonna ask you for anything, I already feel awful enough waking you up and making you feel like you need to come over.” You sniffled.

“So yes. I’m getting food and ice cream. You can either eat it or save it for later, i’m getting it regardless.”

You sniffled and smiled to yourself, knowing how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like him.

“Alright babe, i’m leaving now so i’m gonna hang up.” he told you as you heard his keys jingling, before the sound of the call ending.

Your apartment was pretty close to their house so it only took him about 20 minutes to get to you, normally it would be less time but he stopped by McDonalds grabbing food and mcflurries for you both.

Your sobs had slowed and calmed down to where they had pretty much came to a complete halt, tears still occasionally dripping down your face.

You got up slowly and turned your led lights and tv on, also deciding to light a candle since you were trying to set a calm vibe for yourself and for him to walk into.

A few minutes later you heard the sound of a key entering the lock of the front door and the knob turning as he opened the door and walked inside quietly closing it behind him.

His calm footsteps approached your room from the living room of your apartment, his face peeking into your already open bedroom door with a soft comforting smile as he met your puffy eyes.

“Hi baby.” He greeted you while kicking his shoes off beside your door and walking toward your spot on your bed with a drink carrier and a large bag of food.

“Hi.” you croaked scooting over so he could sit down next to you.

He placed the drink carrier with the drinks and mcflurries on your bedside table closest to him, setting the bag on the floor beside the bed and scooting over to you to give you a peck on the cheek.

You didn’t even exchange anymore words before he wrapped his arms around you and coaxed you to lay your head in the crook of his neck as you two pressed your backs against the wall behind your bed.

You deeply inhaled, stifling back a sob as you took in his scent and the warmth of his body against your own.

“Thank you for coming all the way over here, I love you and I appreciate you so much. You’re the love of my life.” you babbled, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Always, I love you more than you’ll ever know and i’m so glad I could be here with you tonight.” He told you in a soft voice before pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.

He grabbed your remote and clicked on the Disney icon on your tv, putting on Gravity Falls for you guys to binge all over again for the millionth time. This was a show you guys both really enjoyed, and found yourself watching late at night relatively often.

He grabbed the mcflurries out of the carrier on the small table beside him and offered you yours, assuming it would soothe your most likely burning throat from your aggressive crying.

You took it, softly thanking him before you put a small bite of the ice cream into your mouth.

You guys finished your ice cream and ate all of your food in silence, him getting up to throw all of your garbage away in your kitchen and quickly returning.

He climbed back into the bed with you, laying down so you could get close to him again.

You laid your head on his chest, feeling his soft cotton t shirt on the side of your face while his chest rose up and down at a calm and slow pace.

You breathed in his scent while hearing the steady beat of his heart as he watched the tv on your wall in front of the bed. You looked up at his face, noticing the slight look of concentration on his features.

Eventually he noticed you looking up at him and returned your gaze, his eyes meeting yours for a few seconds before he leaned down to press a kiss against your lips.

There was nothing better than being in his arms and exchanging affection with him when you were feeling so miserable. There was nothing better regardless of your mood in all honesty.

Your heart swelled remembering all of the times you guys had been in this position before, cherishing every single memory like this one your brain had filed away.

“You feeling tired yet?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I feel a lot better now too.” you nodded.

You snuggled into his chest while adjusting yourself again to get as comfortable as possible to sleep.

He noticed as you began to dose off, the show still playing at a decent volume in the background. He only knew you’d started to fall asleep because your breathing got deeper.

“I love you.” he voiced quietly as he rubbed your back, being cautious as not to wake you if you’d completely passed out.

“I love you too.” you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

He only smiled as he closed his eyes and continued to softly rub the small of your back.

He cherished you just as much as you did him, maybe even more.

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feel free to drop a comment if you’d like to be added to my tag list! i’m also still accepting requests for both matt and chris! feel free to send anything to my asks, just no NSFW! <3

ps i’m sorry to whoever sent this ask in first lol i accidentally posted it before i even wrote anything bc i pressed post instead of saving the draft to go pick a picture that fit the concept of the fic 😭

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tag list: @im-a-matt-girl @sturniolomads @hii-multifandom-toomany @stxrniqlo @mettsturniolo

[the-kr8tor]

Hai bestie! I'm here to request a coffee shop r x ghost story! Him coming in and looking like he'd order just a black coffee or tea and actually getting some of the sweetest drinks that actually sound and taste really good(you had to try after his 2 or 3 time coming in).

He's a regular now and you happen to be growing a crush that isn't totally obvious. I'd say you get caught gushing about him being the morally Grey man of your dreams to your coworker (r is on register today) when he came up to ask for a remake because only you seem to make his drinks right 🤭

Hi bestie!! Sorry this took ages, hope you like it ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn! Reader

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, CW food mention, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Simon walks towards the familiar streets towards the cute hole in the wall coffee shop. Black face mask snug on his face, hood up to hide the rest of his skin. His glare, huge form and large heavy strides make people steer away from him on the street, some stumble out of his way. He smiles under his mask when a man almost trips over himself after seeing him stride in his direction.

With the simple face mask and comfortable civilian clothes, he's just Simon, not Ghost or Lieutenant Riley, just Simon, and as he enters the doors to the coffee shop, he's now ‘the’ Simon who orders the most complicated and sweetest drink you've ever made.

“Why this place, LT?” Soap once asked him when he noticed that he always has the same cup carrying the cafe's logo on it every morning. Simon answers back gruffly, “none of your business, Johnny.” Truthfully, it's the only place that could get his drink right, and it's the only place that has you.

No one in your small café knows Simon, not even you who he always asks for to make his order. But you would love to know him despite his intimidating gaze and deep voice that could split mountains. You would like to know him more, more than the casual talk and more than the lingering touches when you give him his awfully sweet drink. You would love to know Simon who always drops something in the tip jar. He enters the establishment quietly, not stalking, no, it's just a habit of his that he can't shake. Your back is turned away from the counter and the door, a smile evident on your face based on your excited tone of voice. While Simon walks over to you, none the wiser to your awful crush on him.

And while he listens to you gush to your coworker that he refuses to believe that he's the current subject of, (refuses because compared to him, you're sweeter than his usual order of drink) His name rolls off your tongue like the honey you put in his saccharine coffee. Simon still thinks it's a different Simon even after you described him in detail, words flowery and affectionate.

“He's so mysterious, I think he's one of those guys who have so much lore in them y’know? Someone who's full of stories to tell. I think I'd like to know him.”

Your back is still turned away from the register, he thinks you'd be dead already if you're one of the unfortunate ones who he happens to run into the battlefield. Simon shakes the thought away. It's a slow day, customers sparse and tip jar lacking, so Simon lets you chat away to your friend. Not because he's too embarrassed to interrupt you, nope, not all.

Simon’s palms are uncharacteristically sweaty, breath shuddering with every compliment you unknowingly throw at him. He would like to get to know you too if you would permit him. He gives himself a mission, ‘operation: get to know the cute barista before the end of the day.’

“He's so nice too! And those eyes— oh I could get lost in them.” You don't notice your friend signaling to you about said man waiting patiently behind you. Her face suddenly turns flat, smile disappearing and her eyes flitting between you and something behind the other side of the counter. You think it's another customer so you end your story while you turn around. “Him being fit helps too. Sorry, what can I do for you—” Caught red handed, you turn into stone, eyes widening at the large form staring intensely at you. You're dead, oh so dead. “Shit balls.” You say under your breath.

“Is that a new pastry on the menu?” Simon asks flatly, the dry joke making you nervously chuckle. You think it's hilarious though, if not for the world shattering embarrassment you're currently in.

“No, but I can make it happen if you want.” You try to save face with your equally dry joke. Snorting at your own jape, you cringe at yourself, embarrassment blankets your entire being, insides turning all over. You expect him to roll his eyes, instead he chuckles lowly, a deep laugh that rumbles his chest. You smile nervously, noticing the slight crinkle of his brown eyes brings you at ease. “Sorry, what can I do for you?”

Simon takes his hood off, blonde tufts of hair in full display. That's when you notice the blush on the shell of his ears and you swear your simple crush on the man has increased tenfold. He leans on the glass counter, putting on his best charm. As Soap once told him, “shame that you don't use what god has blessed you with.” Simon still has no idea if he meant showing off his ‘assets’ or to use his charm, albeit that charm is as dry as his humour.

“The usual,” He says it without stuttering despite the deep crimson on his ears. Your eyes are glued to the red hue on the shell of his ears, with every second that passes, the shade seems to turn darker.

Simon's been around the cafe so many times (definitely not because of you) that you have his order memorized and perfected just like how he likes it. You don't mind how complicated it is or how much sugar is in it, just seeing his satisfied face after he takes a sip makes it all worth it. His generous tips are an added bonus too.

You beam up at him genuinely, not your polite customer service smile, but your smile that you only reserve for people you actually like.

Composing yourself, you joke like usual. “So no on the shit balls?” ringing him up, he gives you the exact amount you need, warm calloused hands brushing along your palms briefly. It's enough to deepen the blush on his ears. If that was even possible considering that he looks like he's about to detonate on the spot.

“Maybe next time, ‘m on a diet.”

You giggle, the sound making him smile, he's glad he's wearing a mask.

“I'll keep that in mind.” He gazes softly at you, hands balling into fists in an attempt to keep his composure. “I saved your usual seat,” You glance at the table in the corner, the ‘reserved’ sign written in your own handwriting is placed on top of it. “as always.”

“Good, thank you.” He might as well marry you on the spot.

“Enjoy your coffee, Simon.” Your smile seems to single handedly brighten the entire store.

Sitting down, he slyly watches you in the corner of his eyes. ‘you're bein’ a fuckin' creep’ he thinks to himself, so he watches the pedestrians outside instead. If he didn't look away he would've seen you gaze at him back. And he would've seen you spilling milk on your apron. You're glad he's looking away or you'd drown yourself in milk.

After making his honeyed drink, (and cleaning yourself up) you personally deliver it to him. He notices your smaller strides, and how your hands slightly tremble while holding his coffee cup. You swallow thickly, placing his order gingerly on the table.

“Three pumps of caramel right?” You try to make conversation even though you already know the answer to your question like it's the back of your hand. Simon sees you flick your eyes towards his cup, his mind tells him of danger. But knowing you, you wouldn't hurt him, right?

“Yes, thank you.”

You nod, a shy smile creeping up on your lips. “Of course, Simon. Anything else?” Stretching your time, you avoid eye contact, eyes once again moving to the steaming cup.

“Nothin' else, for now.” Simon feels the awkwardness in the air. He curses himself at how you could make him nervous just by standing in his proximity.

“Okie dokie.” You crumble away the second you let out your words. Turning around, you beat yourself up for being too nervous to tell him about your number carefully written on his cup, right beside his name. You hope you're not being too straightforward, hell, you only got the courage to write it because of your co-worker who keeps telling you to bite the bullet.

“Wait,” Simon's voice cuts through the quiet and the classic music softly playing in the store speakers. You turn around, anxious of what he's going to say to you. Did he finally see the numbers? “I—” Simon starts but he gets sidetracked by the loud ringing of his phone. He curses under his breath while you wait.

Taking the phone from his pocket, he sees Price's name in the caller ID. It rings twice before cutting off on his superior's side. A signal that he should immediately go back to base. ‘Operation: get to know the cute barista before the end of the day’ has to wait, for now. This is why he always asks you to put his drink in a to-go cup even though he's going to have it inside, he never knows when he'll be called.

“Duty calls?” You read the room and how his eyebrows knit together in frustration. Nodding, you give him extra napkins to hold his hot coffee with. “Here, take care, Simon.”

Simon stands up, eyes searching for something, anything on your face that would indicate that he should stay, or at least fancy him back. You turn around before he could get a good reading on you, “right, thank you, Y/N.”

“No problem, as always.” You look over your shoulder, just as he was about to leave. Coffee cup in his large hands. Ears no longer red. You give one last small smile, and he smiles back unbeknownst to you.

You hear the door open and close, your co-worker looks at you with an apologetic face. “Maybe next time?”

“Sure, maybe.”

A few minutes tick by, you tend to a new customer, taking her order when the door opens with a bang. The sound was so loud that everyone in the café jumped in their skin. You thought the hinges were broken from the harshness. You don't expect the person on the other side though.

Simon heaves in the doorway, hands bracing on the side, sweat dribbling on his brows. Even his mask is lopsided.

“Simon?” You ask, concerned. “What happened? Are you okay?” The other patrons looked on, weirded out, some were worried.

He inhales loudly, straightening up, he opens his fist to reveal a crumpled piece of the cup. Your number is still written on the paper.

“Is this your number?”

“Yeah?” You think you're fucked, absolutely, royally, fucked. You've made a mistake, that you read all your friendly interactions as something more when it was just that, friendly. You think he's going to your manager to complain, and that you're going to be fired all because you decided to take a leap—

“Can I keep it?” Simon's voice puts a stop to your frantic thoughts.

“What?” You blink, trying to decipher what he meant even though it's as straightforward as pouring coffee into a cup.

“It's for me, innit?” Now he's the one who thinks it was all a mistake, that maybe, just maybe that you've given him the wrong order, that another customer ordered his exact drink.

“Yeah, d-do you want it?”

Simon raises a brow in understanding, finally, you're both on the same page. “Yeah, can I text you?”

You would have laughed if not for the door hinges creaking weirdly. “Of course, Simon.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Simon clears his throat, eyes roaming around the people's faces. “I'll pay for the door.” He says before nodding at you, the second he turns around, a wind blows right at his face, taking his hoodie off. His entire neck and ears are as bright as a tomato.

You tamp down a chuckle whilst he desperately tries to fix his hoodie back on.

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