#but i have some minor anger issues

[thrumbolt]

I saw someone like 'is it a red flag that I identify with Nesta?' and I'm over here, sweating, identifying with Tamlin.

[observethewalrus]

love the emotional whiplash i feel whenever i spend more than an hour with my parents

[qceensofkings]

*screeches into the abyss because of how many blogs I’m reporting/blocking cuz this hellscape of a site can’t do shit except make shitty updates*

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Attention Seeker

Frat boy Yunho x Fem Reader

Summary: You and Yunho have been in the "talking phase" but when you see him entertaining another girl you want to get a little revenge. When he catches you he gives you all the attention you had been waiting for.

Genre: Smut, angst, pwp

Word count: 4k

Warning: Angst, bratty behavior, y/n is kinda annoying sorry, aggression

Smut Warning: Spit... like alot of spit, unrealistic anal, anal play, vaginal sex, oral sex (F receiving, both holes), fingering (both holes), cum play, this is honestly just filthy as hell, bratty reader, mean dom Yunho, choking, slapping (chest and vagina)

A/N: This is alot lowkey sorry lol, kinda missed some points but I think we hit the mark.

Commission submitted by: @thespiffynerd - "I would like to request a filthy nasty mean dom Yunho idea. Ass eating, breeding, spitting in the mouth, degradation, a little bit of pain like biting, smacking, etc. Maybe Y/N flirting with one of the band members too much too get Yunho’s attention or a co-worker at work trying to always ask Y/N out."

Minors DNI

Smut under the cut

Finally, quiet, the only noises filling the room was the sound of your lips on Jongho's. The painful thought that maybe this wasn't the best idea dawned on you but you had to remind yourself that, yes, you and Yunho were in the "talking phase" and, yes, you were the one that told Yunho you weren’t looking for a relationship right now. And yes, you both agreed to not see other people but it wasn't like you were doing this to hurt his feelings. Yunho was a sweet guy, but he still had his player ways, you couldn't blame him honestly, birds of a feather flock together, his entire friend group was known for running through people, when he invited you too this party he had already been surrounded by a group of women, it's expected from such a popular guy. The issue was the fact that when you tried to get his attention, he decided to ignore you, but maybe you were crazy? So, you called for him again.

"Can't you see I'm talking?" He said as the girl he was talking to giggled, your eye twitched, so you made your way to the more secluded upstairs of the house where you found Jongho, alone in an LED lit gaming room, one conversation led to another and next thing you knew your lips were on his. You could taste a very faint hint of beer on his breath, you hated the taste but loved escaping the feeling of a hurt heart. It's not like you were heart broken or anything, you two had only been talking for a month but he kind of made you feel special, but oh well, mightiest well ignore the feelings now.

Jongho pulled back from the kiss. "Oh shit..." You were confused why he pulled back, you opened your eyes to see his eyes fixated on something ahead of him.

"What's wrong?" You asked as you looked over your shoulder to see a very obviously pissed Yunho standing in the wide door frame. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"What do you think you're doing Y/N?" He asked, his jaw clenching with anger.

You turned from Jongho to face him. "What does it look like?" you said in a condescending voice.

"Looks like you're sucking face with one of my closest friends."

"Wow really? You two look so much alike I thought he was you." the sarcasm radiated off of your tone.

"Hilarious." Yunho said, he walked over and grabbed you by your arm, pulling you out the room and down the hall as you squirmed and tried to pull away, your effort was wasted and only made his grip tighter. He pulled you to his room, once inside he flung you on the bed and slammed the door behind him and locked it.

"What the hell is your problem?!" You yelled at him as you sat up on the bed, no answer was given.

"I should be asking you that question." he walked over to you and stood at the end of the bed.

"You know what my fucking problem is don't act like a dumbass now." you started to match his energy.

"Watch your mouth Y/N."

"I don't have to do shit! Why don't you go back to ignoring me for your groupies an leave me alone, you didn't give a fuck about me then, why do you give a fuck now-" Before you could continue to bitch him out his large hand grabbed your face and shoved you into the bed, your head bounced from the force.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut the fuck up Y/N?" His energy shifted, the tension was heavy. You looked up at him as you brought your knees closer to your chest. "Take your shirt and bra off." You stared at him blankly.

"W-why should I?" You said, you wanted to do whatever he said but you wouldn't be you if you didn't act like a brat, Yunho would never admit it, but he loved your bratty ways. The tantrums you would throw when you didn't have your way, how you would purposely do things to piss him off, but the only issue was this time, you took it too far. You knew how much it annoyed him when his friends would flirt with you unknowingly, since they weren't aware that you two were a serious thing. Maybe you did go a bit far by purposely kissing the one person from his friend group that people joked was his twin, but all is fair in love and war, right?

Yunho silently walked over to the side of the bed closest to you, he leaned his large figure over you while placing his hand on the side of your head. He swiftly took his other hand and wrapped his long fingers around your throat while pushing you into the bed. "Either do what the fuck I say, or I'll make you regret it." He clenched his jaw while you noticed the veins popping in his neck. "Do I make myself clear?" his eye contact was severe and all you could do is nod while looking dead into his dark brown eyes.

He released your neck and stood back up waiting for you to follow his directions. You chose not to bullshit anymore and sat up, sitting on your knees directly in front of him on the bed, then removed your shirt to reveal a cute push up bra that made your tits look amazing. You unhooked your bra the as your 2 soft breast plopped out, you sat on the bed on your knees shirtless and looked back at him. "Well... now what?" you said with an attitude.

"Since you like putting on a show, put on a show for me. Play with them." He said while folding his arms, your face got hot thinking about him watching you play with your boobs, but then again you mightiest well have some fun and play along. You lifted both your hands to your chest, gripping both your fleshy mounds from the bottom, massaging the fat between your palms. Your eyes met his, you hoped to get his usual reaction from, he usually would be fighting to stay mad at you then realizing he couldn't resist you and fucking you into the bed. The vibe however was different this time, maybe you went too far, he just stood there with his arms folded watching you squeeze your boobs together while he had a scowl on his face.

"Aww what’s wrong Yuyu? Mad at little ole me?" A teasing smile on your face.

"Spit on them." He ignored your attempt to tease him and made his command, you did as you were told. You tilted your chin down, allowing the spit in your mouth to fall to the front. You pursed your lips and allowed the cold spit to hit one breast then turned your head and let it hit the other. Your hands wasted no time smearing the saliva around your nipples as they got harder. "Again." he demanded; you were a bit confused but again you listened. You spit on your breast once again, this time only a small bit coming out. "Come on you've spit on my dick better than that, how pathetic are you? Let me show you how you need to do it." Yunho gathered all the spit in his mouth and puckered his lips to spit a glob of spit directly on your chest, causing a shameless whimper to fall from your lips. "Go on."

You knew what he wanted, you rubbed the spit around your chest like lotion, coating every inch of you breast in it, some of it sitting on your hard nipple and dropping, causing a string of spit to fall down to your thighs. You closed your eyes to bathe in the feeling on your fingers pinching your nipples and the heat between your thighs pooling, you quickly opened them when a hard smack hit your wet boobs causing an intense stinging pain that made you groan. When you opened your eyes, you were greeted with Yunho once again taking his large hand and smacking your breast again, the pain made your chest throb, but it felt amazing. "Such a messy slut, take your panties off and show me how wet I know you are." You leaned back to sit on your butt, your wet hands reached under your skirt to remove your panties. "Now spread nice and wide for me." You bent your knees and spread your legs for him to see, your sopping wet cunt was on full display for him but you decided to reach down to spread your pussy lips open so he could see your gummy walls. "Mm, finally being good for me huh?"

"You've got me this horny I mightiest well listen so I can at least get fucked." You witfully retorted, his face showed that he wasn't that amused by your smart mouth.

"Rub your little slutty pussy for me." he scanned you up and down.

"Why when you're right here?"

"Because you and your bratty ass mouth haven't earned me yet."

"...fine." You took your two fingers and slid them between your wet cunt. You rubbed a few circles on your clit then slid back down to do the same to your hole, you whimpered while trying to ignore the burning sensation of Yunho's gaze. The speed of your fingers gradually picked up as you rubbed your needy nub, it felt good but masturbating with just your hand feels the same as when you try to tickle yourself. You moaned and whimpered the faster you went but it only made you needier for Yunho, your slick started to run down to your ass as you got more turned on, your mouth felt parched, so stuck in a daze knowing that he was watching you do this. "Y-Yunho please- I need you."

The smirk on his face made you want to knock it off of him. "Oh really? You sure you don't want me to go get Jongho?" He folded his arms as you continued to rub yourself, now using 3 fingers.

"Sh-Shut up! You know I want you..." You managed to groan out.

"Actually, I don't know that, you seem to be doing just fine on your own." He retorted.

"No- please I need you." You felt your yearn for him growing the more you rubbed your wet pussy as your hips rocked against your fingers just trying to chase your need for more.

"Where do you need me?" He asked with that dumb dickhead smirk.

"Here... please... I need you here." You said softly as your patience ran thin.

"Where is here Y/N?"

You whimpered as your clit started to ring, you knew he was just fucking with you at this point. "Down here o-obviously." You said between moans, Yunho was loving watching you fall apart in front of him, but he wanted to mess with you just a bit more and he had the perfect idea.

"Fine." He bit his bottom lip as he continued to carry a devious smirk on his face like he was up to no good. He climbed on to the bed, kneeling in front of your legs. "Down here, right?" He pointed down to your core.

"Yes ha~ hurry up"

"Okay, anywhere specific or-"

"Just fucking do something." You said no longer having patience for him and his bullshit. He gripped the underside of your knees and suddenly pushed them to your chest causing your ass to lift off the bed. "Hey what-"

He pushed your legs back more as your ass lifted more into the air, he was folding you with ease like a piece of paper, you could feel the sting of your muscles being stretched. Your needy wet cunt was right by his face since he was leaned into you. "Down here, right?" He looked into your eyes, and it made your face hot, this position made you feel so exposed and shy, all you could do is nod slowly. He drove his face down, tongue ready to taste your slick, you closed your eyes tight as you anticipated feeling his cold tongue on your hot pussy. Then there was another sensation that made you jolt, and your eyes shoot open, Yunho's tongue was on your hole but not the hole you thought. He was kitten licking your asshole and the feeling sent a chill down your spine. You have never had anyone stimulate your ass, he had never mentioned doing it so where is this coming from? His tongue worked on your second hole, tracing the rim with the tip of his tongue, the mixture of his spit and your slick coated your bottom as it drips down. You wanted to speak but couldn't the only thing falling from your lips were pathetic whimpers while you rolled your hips wishing you could have his tongue on your pussy too. Maybe that's what he was trying to do? Get back at your bratty behavior by avoiding where you really wanted him, but this didn't feel like a punishment. You had never felt this feeling before, it tickled but you also felt it in your pussy, it just made you want more.

"Fuck~ feels 'o good." You muttered, you couldn't conjure a coherent thought it was like you were in a trance. Your eyes rolled back as you firmly planted your head in the pillows under you, Yunho wrapped his pillow soft lips around your hole while his tongue continued to stimulate you before he pulled off with a pop.

"Finally ready to be good for me baby?" He said softly noticing your relaxed and submissive state, you easily folded as you nodded again. "Good." His mouth was quickly back on your asshole as he removed one on his hands from your leg. He used his two long fingers to slowly rub circles on your throbbing clit, it was like water putting out a fire, you couldn't help but moan louder, thank God there was a party going on down stairs or like usual Yunho's housemates would be banging on the door for you two to keep it the hell down. Your head rolled around the pillows as you breathed heavily, your fingers digging into the sheets below you.

"Make me cum Yunho, fuck" you said, then harsh slap on your pussy was felt making you wince. "What the fuck!" your eyes opened and looked directly at him.

"Is that how you ask?" He said removing his mouth from your hole again.

"Are you fucking serious? Just make me cum, God!" Welp the submissive soft girl act didn't last long, the attitude earned you 2 more slaps to your wet cunt before Yunho let you go making you drop back down on the bed with a slight bounce. He started to remove his clothes starting with his shirt then his jeans you sat up frizzled from the edging. “Oh? Finally going to fuck me?” You smirked smugly.

“God, do you shut the fuck?” Yunho said rolling his eyes, he crawled on the bed to hover his large frame over yours. As he pushed closer you laid back. "You have me, the best fucking dick you have and will ever get in your life, and you can't shut your whore mouth. Just sit there like a good pretty little bitch and take it. Got it?" He said looking you into your eyes.

You stared at him for a moment, all you wanted was to make him a little jealous but the look in his eyes was serious. All you could do is nod.

"Good, open your mouth." he said while gripping your chin. You slowly opened your mouth and before you could process what was happening, he spit directly into it, making you wince for a moment. "I don't give you 2 seconds of my attention, and you tongue down my friend. Don't worry though baby, I'll give you all the attention you needed." he smiled. "Swallow and turn around." You swallow as soon as he releases your chin, you turn to then lay on your stomach once he moves from on top of you to kneel on the bed.

You arched your ass into the air to present to him shamelessly. Your cunt was glistening, practically begging to get fucked by him. Yunho removed his boxers finally and got closer to you. He gripped the base of your shaft and rubbed it between your folds. You couldn't take anymore teasing, anymore waiting. "Please... please, I'll be good." you pathetically whimpered out.

"Will you baby?"

"Yes~ please." your hips started to move against his cock, you didn't even notice he had stopped. His tip rubbed against your clit ever so slightly just enough so you could feel some kind of friction.

"Say sorry baby, say sorry and I'll give you everything you need."

"I'm ngh~ I'm sorry baby, please, please fuck me." You began to drool on the pillow your face was on as you quickened your pace. Yunho pulled away and sunk his length into your needy hole. You moaned loudly; you could never really get use to his almost obscene size. The small sting turned to pure bliss, making your eyes roll back. He bottomed into you; your breathing spiked feeling his tip on your ovaries.

"Apology accepted beautiful." He wasted no time and moved his hips back in forth, pumping his dick into you. "So wet and tight, I must not fuck you hard enough. That must be why you’re acting up." His pace quickened. You couldn't form anything coherent as you felt your mind start to blank. "I already feel you squeezing me baby, already about to cum?"

"Fuck, fuck~" Your stomach dropped, your cunt clenched around his dick. His pace moving even faster as he felt your pussy hugging him, you came. Your mind filling with fog, your eyes completely rolled back, and you zoned out for a moment. You finally came back to earth, Yunho was still fucking into you when overstimulation kicked in. "too much, Yunnie it's too much ahh-" Yunho didn't want to make you uncomfortable but he knew you, he knew this was not enough for you. "Want... want more, want more please." Your legs were unstable causing you to fall into a collapsed doggystyle. Your pussy ringed as he pulled out of you.

"Are you sure? You want me to keep going?" Yunho asked as his large hands gripped your ass, and he massaged you with his thumbs.

"Yes... please." you begged.

Yunho separated your cheeks and spit a cold glob of saliva onto your asshole. He rubbed his long finger between your still throbbing pussy to collect your cum. He smeared the spit around the rim of your hole then glided one finger in. Your moans could probably be heard throughout the whole house. The sensation of his fingers in your ass could drive you crazy every time. Your hips wiggled as your pussy still leaked. He watched your reaction to make sure you were comfortable and added another finger. Your hole was tight, but he used his other hand to continue to rub your cheek just to keep you calm but your mind was so fuzzy.  You cried out as he scissored his fingers inside you. Before you could cum, he slowly slid back out.

“Did that feel good baby?”

“Yes mm~” you managed to mumble out. He spat onto his cock and aligned his tip with your asshole. You could feel the pressure of his dick on the rim and your mind could barely comprehend taking his thick dick in your ass, but it made your pussy leak even more.

“Think you could take me here baby? Do you want it?” He said smirking at you.

You looked back at his smug face, your face looking absolutely fucked out, you nodded to him. He wanted to tease a verbal response out of you but even though he would never admit it he was at his limit too. He pushed his length slowly into your tight asshole and you clenched your jaw while whimpering and grabbing the sheets under you. The mix of pleasure and pain was overwhelming, and he could tell it was a lot for you. He leaned his large frame down to kiss you. The kiss started actually pretty warm and wholesome until he continued to push into you. Feeling his cock drive deeper into you made you babble nonsense into his mouth until he finally bottomed out. He lifted himself back up.

“You have to relax a bit baby.”

After a moment you finally adjusted to his size in your unused hole. “Please ah~ please move.” You mumbled out. Not needing to be told twice he started to pump his long dick into you. Somehow you could still feel him in your pussy, and you could no longer think straight. Your mind was completely gone, your eyes rolling with every stroke he took inside you. Yunho's bottom lip fully being bitten by his teeth, biting deeper with every motion. You were so tight and wet around him; he thought your pussy was tight, but this was something completely different. This was both of your first time doing anal and absolutely won’t be your last, Yunho was going to have fun with you later. You started to fall forward as your body was growing limp, unconsciously running from him. He took both his large hands and wrapped them around your hips to keep you in place.

“Don’t run from me baby, take every inch of my dick.” He said in a low voice. He pulled out halfway then slammed back into your repeatedly, you cried out his name along with strings of “fuck” and other whiney words and phrases. You felt your stomach begin to tighten again.

“Yunnie I’m gonna cum- I’m gonna cum FUCK.” You slurred out.

He sped up his pace as his climax was on the rise as well. “Going to cum in your tight little ass, you want that don’t you. You want my cum to leak out of your asshole baby?”

“Please, please fill my ass, please, please ple- “before you could finish begging like a proper whore your pussy clenched around nothing and began to leak on the bed below you. You could feel Yunho pump into you once… twice… three times before his hot cum filled your ass. He pulled out slowly, still leaking as some of his cum got on your leg. He dropped his large body on the side of you and immediately started to kiss you.

“If I ever catch you with any of my housemates or anyone else in general, I’ll kill you both.” He said with his cute but serious puppy face. You were still breathing heavy but couldn’t help but to let out a breathy laugh.

“Well don’t go around flirting with other girls then, plus you were being an ass to me.”

“Oh God Y/n I wasn’t flirting; she was flirting with me, and I was just being nice. But… you’re right… I shouldn’t have been rude about it. I’m sorry.” He said as you turned on your side and he pulled you in closer by your waist.

“Thank you. And by the way being friendly, being flirty, synonyms.” You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus, for someone “Not looking for a relationship” you sure are jealous.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So, the least you could do is be my girlfriend if your gonna act like that.”

“Hmm… I’ll think about it. First, we have to do the walk of shame to the bathroom so we can shower though.” You said as you slowly got up, wincing a bit at the soreness.

“Dude it’s like- “He checked his apple watch on his wrist. “4am. The party ended like an hour into us fucking. Everyone is either passed out or doing what we were.”

“Oh- well come on still, my ass hurts.” You both got out the bed and Yunho slapped you on the ass to tease you.

[daisynik7]

“Earned it” by The Weeknd for Levi Ackerman- Smut + Fluff

thank you

Earned It

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~7.0k

cw: yakuza au, modern setting au, adult themes, gang-related violence, mentions of blood, explicit language, fluff, smut – fingering, cunnilingus, PIV sex (doggy style), cream pie, unprotected sex

Summary: Levi is the current leader of a Yakuza organization called the Ackerman Clan. Fearless, ruthless, cold-blooded. Your deadbeat father owes a debt to his Uncle Kenny after borrowing a sum of money to gamble on horse races many years ago, a debt that hasn’t been forgotten. He has since abandoned you and one day, the Ackerman Clan tracks you down, claiming that you are now the owner of this debt. Without the means to pay for it out of pocket, Levi employs you to be his personal housekeeper until you’ve earned the money to pay it off. 

Author’s Note: Wow okay my first Levi fic EVER and I totally got carried away! I had so much fun writing this one, so I hope the rest of you enjoy it! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This gave me the perfect excuse to finally write for Levi. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! Tagging @crazychaoticizzy!

It's an average Wednesday when you receive a call from your mother in the middle of your workday. She usually doesn’t call unless it’s important, so you answer, already nervous for what she’s about to tell you. “Mom? Are you okay?”

Her tone is somber. “Honey, please come home. Now.” You can hear other people speaking in the background, alarm bells immediately ringing in your head. It’s been you and your mother alone for the past decade now, abandoned by your father before your high school graduation. You have no idea who would be in your home at this time. Freaking out, you ask, “What’s going on? What’s happening?!”

Before she can respond, there’s shuffling, then a man you don’t recognize on the other line. “You should listen to your mother.” His voice is cold, terse, sinister. It sends a chill down your spine.

Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.

You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”

You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”

Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”

He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”

You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily. 

The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.” 

“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue. 

“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”

That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”

“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.

Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”

You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”

“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright. 

“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.

You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”

Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest. 

“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago. 

Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”

There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”

Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”

Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”

You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.

“Can you cook?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. 

He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it. 

Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous. 

Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”

He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”

Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”

Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”

At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”

After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper. 

~~~

Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control. 

So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.

He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him. 

“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on. 

Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”

She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.” 

“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”

“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes. 

Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”

“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet. 

After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time. 

The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day. 

Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent. 

She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known. 

“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”

He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”

He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty. 

She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”

He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”

“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea. 

It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?

Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”

“Is that alright?” 

He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”

She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone. 

This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly. 

Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.

And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.

~~~

Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.

On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy. 

When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”

He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”

Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”

He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut. 

You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”

“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset. 

Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him. 

“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.

“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.

He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.” 

When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.

~~~

Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.

He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.  

Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”

Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”

“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”

Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands. 

At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life. 

She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.

“Mr. Ackerman?”

His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”

She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”

He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.

She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it. 

Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways. 

She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”

Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”

He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”

She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”

He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.

This is bad. 

~~~

On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens. 

You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys. 

You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know. 

Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?

Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.  

You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing. 

“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side. 

~~~

Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.

“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.  

“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.

Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”

He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort. 

He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip. 

She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”

He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”

She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.

Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone. 

Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed. 

“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel. 

He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him. 

Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”

He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”

She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”

He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes. 

He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.” 

She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line. 

“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.

“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.

“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”

“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”

It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist. 

~~~

Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.

He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.  

“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”

“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core. 

You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out. 

There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”

You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”

You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”

All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”

He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”

He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.

He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”

His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”

You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.

~~~

On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask. 

They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?

He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.

“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.” 

He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”

He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling. 

He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”

She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”

He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”

“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”

She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”

He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?” 

“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

For most of his life, Levi has never had it easy. Thirty years later, he finally has a chance at something normal, something good. Does he deserve it? With her by his side, holding his hand so lovingly in hers, he actually believes it. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”

[spongeyspot]

Toxic Traits/Red Flags HC

Characters: Arthur, Javier, John, Lenny, Dutch, Micah, Charles, Sean, Hosea, Mary Beth, Abigail, Tilly, Karen, Sadie, Molly

(A/N): WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS DAWG. I LOVED @cowboyfromh3ll 's take on that shit sm and these hcs have literally been swimming in my head for weeeeeeeeks bro

Edit: some of these were kinda hard because there's not a lot of bad in the characters themselves... I had trouble with specifically Charles, Lenny, Mary Beth, and Tilly. Sorry if they may be OOC. IM EVEN DOING THE GIRLS BECAUSE IM IN A SILLY GOOFY MOOD

Content Warning: female reader, jealousy, self hate, narcissism, gaslighting, physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental abuse, mentions of murder and violence, mentions of infidelity, mentions of sex (Sean, Micah, Sadie kind of) (MINORS DNI)

Not edited btw

The boys

Arthur Morgan

- Honestly, I feel like Arthur would have this insane, crippling fear of rejection, especially when it comes to dating. - His self hate/deprecation plays a huge part in this, and quite honestly, him and Mary not working out probably also probably contributed to it. - Very emotionally distant. Has a hard time expressing his feelings openly due to that same fear of rejection.🚩 - Bottles shit up until he feels like he's gonna explode 🚩 - His impulse control is almost nonexistent 🚩 - Will resort to saying things that he doesn't even mean. He just says things when he's angry🚩 - Will hate himself even more if he makes you cry - Won't hesitate to run away from camp for a while to cool off. This isn't necessarily a bad thing per se, but he usually takes his time away to overthink the fuck out of everything - Prone to acting violent. (not to someone he cared about, but to other people, absolutely)Also due to his poor impulse control. 🚩

Javier Escuella

- Has a flirty personality, but around women, it just seems to get worse. 🚩 - Tells you you're overreacting if you tell him it bothers you🚩 - Overprotective of you. Always has his eyes on you, and practically orders you to stay in camp where it's safe. - As if you step one foot outside the camp without him, you'll spontaneously drop dead - Jealous asf. Are you laughing at what Bill just said? It wasn't even that funny. Why are you standing so close to him? You should be at least 6 feet away from him, not 5 and a half. 🚩 - Also has a problem with how you dress sometimes. God forbid your shirt is ever low cut. He'd probably ask you to change. 🚩 - And if you get offended or upset, he'll lie and tell you it's because he can't stop staring at your chest, and he'd like to focus of whatever it was he was doing.🚩

John Marston

- Stubborn as all hell. Doesn't listen to anybody for anything.🚩 - Commitment issues up the ass - Says mean things out of anger and sometimes actually means them 🚩 - Won't apologize half the time. He thinks kissing it better actually makes it better 🚩 - Regularly ignores his own bad habits instead of actually facing them 🚩 - Will run away from problems like Arthur, but worse. He'd be gone a really long time.🚩 - Gets annoyed with you if you get angry at him for leaving and staying away for a while. He told you he needed space, didn't he? What else do you need from him?? 🚩 - Ignorantly clueless half the time. Head empty, no thoughts.

Lenny Summers

- Not assertive in the slightest, and usually, respectfully, keeps to himself. -Takes orders without verbal complaints but inside he's annoyed as fuck 🚩 - Even if he hates doing something he'll probably just go "Okay" and do it anyway, and he'll sulk all day afterwards - Refuses to tell you what's wrong because he thinks he'll sound childish.🚩 - If you push the issue, he might snap at you out of annoyance like "Would you just let it be??" - Immediately feels guilty and shameful, and he'll hide away until he's ready to apologize and face you again - Also kind of a know-it-all... He'll correct you a LOT. It would get annoying 🚩 - Would blatantly tell you you're wrong before correcting you🚩 - Not necessarily an asshole about it but he still tends to get under your skin sometimes

Dutch Van Der Linde

- The BIGGEST Narcissist you'll ever meet.🚩 -He loses another piece of his mental state with every breath he takes. Slowly but surely losing his mind.🚩 - King of gaslighting🚩 - How could you even think that about him? He could never do anything wrong! You must be crazy...🚩 - Tries to recite his "pretty words" from Evelyn Miller to try and sound smarter than he actually is 🚩 - Expects you to just feed his ego without him actually doing anything to earn it🚩 - Will try to correct you even when he's wrong🚩 - Refuses to admit he's wrong. He can never be wrong. That word isn't even in his vocabulary unless he's talking about literally anyone but himself🚩

Micah Bell

- Where do I even start with this guy - Not above putting his hands on you if he doesn't get his way. Let's be honest here.🚩 - Mega Narccisist, almost as bad as Dutch 🚩 - Will brag and share every sexual encounter you've ever had with him like he's talking about the weather🚩 - VERY prone to Violence 🚩 - NO impulse control. Murders people for fun.🚩 - Backhanded and borderline abusive compliments 24/7 "You'd look so good if you weren't so fucking fat..." 🚩 - Selfish lover. Thinks just sticking it in will do the trick, and it does, for him at least.🚩 - Little to no affection. What are you? His girlfriend? Wait...🚩 -If he actually does show you affection, and you react in surprise, he'll tell you to go fuck yourself, and that that's the last time he ever does anything nice for you.🚩

Charles Smith

- Impossible to read sometimes - Like Arthur, Charles tends to keep a lot of his emotions bottled up until he feels like he's gonna pop 🚩 - Like most of the men in the Van Der Linde gang, Charles is also prone to acting violently. I mean, he started a bar fight with a fucking chair, and he fights in street fighting rings, let's be real for a second.🚩 - He's incredibly quiet and reserved a lot of the time, and sometimes you just assume that he's listening to you when you talk, but a lot of the time, he's lost in his own thoughts. - Will do everything anyone asks him to at the expense of his own free time and energy, and sometimes he works himself to exhaustion just to try and please everyone.🚩 - In doing so, he sometimes doesn't have time for himself at the end of the day. It also seems like you spend time together less and less as the days go on. - If he ever got himself hurt and you tried to help him, he'd decline any help with anything to save his own pride. The last thing he needs is you thinking he's weak. 🚩 - Extremely Overprotective. Like to the point where he'd beat the shit out of anybody you asked him to🚩

Sean Macguire

- An Alcoholic🚩 - horny 99% of the time, but half that time he probably has whiskey dick. Still asks you to try but doesn't understand that it's like trying to play pool with a rope... - If he can manage to be sober enough to actually get it up, and you're not in the mood, he'd get pissy and annoyed with you for "wasting his boner" 🚩 - Will probably also brag about having sex with you to everyone🚩 - Needy as all hell - Bro sulks on purpose - Low key loves the attention you give him when you continue to ask him what's wrong, but he never actually tells you and constantly says "I'm fine..." or "It's nothing..." 🚩 - But then sighs dramatically and continues sulking and dragging his feet so you keep giving him more attention 🚩

Hosea Matthews

- Ignores his physical health until he's practically dying. You've told him to get that cough looked at for literal years and he just says "I will" and does nothing 🚩 - sometimes talks to you as if you're a child especially if he's around Dutch -low key gaslights you sometimes 🚩 - and he says it with such a gentle tone, its hard to catch it 🚩

The girls

Mary Beth Gaskill

- Daydreams way too much - Likes to live in her romance novel fantasy land rather than face reality 🚩 - Cries a lot - Tries to be angry but can't help but cry instead - If crying makes you feel bad for her, she'll probably do it on purpose so you comfort her and give her attention🚩 -If you're in a fight, she'll turn on the crocodile tears to get you to stop being angry with her or whatever it is you're arguing about.🚩

Abigail Roberts

- She can be verbally abusive if she's pushed far enough 🚩 - Holds in a lot of her emotions🚩 - Neglectful of her own personal needs to make sure you or Jack are fully provided or cared for🚩 - a lot of the time, when she's upset with you, you're probably given the cold shoulder and the silent treatment - incredibly protective. Not necessarily a bad thing, but she can sometimes be super overbearing.

Tilly Jackson

- Tells it how she sees it, sometimes accidentally sounding a lot colder than she means to 🚩 - Too sarcastic for her own good 🚩 - Laughs a little too much sometimes when you tell a joke, and you can often tell it's actually incredibly fake🚩 - gets irritated really easily, especially if she's bothered while doing her chores. The last thing she needs is Grimshaw on her ass again.🚩 - irritable a lot of the time, unintentionally becoming short or snapping at you - like john, she also believes that kissing it better is better than actually apologizing

Karen Jones

- An alcoholic 🚩 - picks fights with you for fun, finds it entertaining to see how red your face can get from anger 🚩 - Screaming matches are a regular occurance between you guys, and she starts it almost every time 🚩 - Pretty jealous when it comes to the opposite sex🚩 - Has self doubt and believes that she can't give you everything a man probably could

Sadie Adler

- The nosiest woman in America. No chill. She reads everyone's mail. - Makes a lot of loose threats 🚩 - Anger issues🚩 - Low impulse control🚩 - Can be a little too rough sometimes 🚩 - If she's upset with you, she'll either yell or storm off. Sometimes both. 🚩 -(She tends to walk away a lot more often because she's actuall self aware that her anger issues are a problem) - She'd never admit that to you though.

Molly O'Shea

- Even more jealous than Javier🚩 - Glares at and envies anyone you talk to that isn't her🚩 - Has immaginary conversations with people in her head🚩 - Rubbing her hands together when the real life conversations are following the script she had planned out in her brain - Needs constant reassurance - "D'you even love me anymore?!"🚩 - Overthinks everything 🚩 - Paranoid as hell about infidelity - Gets mad at you when she dreams about you cheating on her🚩

[bloodiedrogue]

FEAR OF LOSING IT (4)

SUMMARY: When it's discovered that Astarion's being hunted, you take matters into your own bloody hands.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 4,235

WARNINGS: Teasing, spoilers for BG3, canon typical violence, minor character death, pining if you squint a little, feelings realized!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Day 4 is here! Prompt is "you're not scared, are you? Of Me?" So hopefully I did it justice?

Also sidenote, to anyone wanting to be on the taglist. I had a few issues tagging some people but I still put your name. Not sure why it won't let me tag so check your settings and next fic I'll try again.

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The sun beams down as you walk along the water’s edge, carefully stepping over damp rocks and foliage with narrowed eyes. As per usual, you and Astarion are trailing behind the rest of the pack —you because of the hangover you’ve been nursing all morning; him because he lives to irritate you. 

“I don’t understand how you feel so ill. You barely had more than a few drops of that ale.” 

Slightly in front of you, Astarion steps around a patch of suspicious-looking rocks, turning to grab your arm and guide you out of the way as you scrunch up your face in disgust. 

The air is way too hot to be touched. Beneath the fabric of your tunic, you can feel your skin grow increasingly sticky, prompting you to brush off Astarion's hand but reluctantly still follow with a groan. 

“I drank more at camp,” you confess, feeling a pain radiate inside your head. One that’s almost reminiscent of the tadpole, pulsing in angry motions that make you close your eyes and quietly wince. 

Picking up on your discomfort, Astarion slows his pace, opting to walk alongside you rather than ahead. “And why in gods name did you decide to do that?”

Immediately, you shrug your shoulders, offering him nothing despite knowing the reason. Last night at the party you embarrassingly drank to forget all those thoughts. The ones filled with visions of hands and mouths gliding across your wanting skin. 

Even now you hate to admit it, but after parting ways, you were still a bit riled up. A mixture of anger and annoyance coating your soul once you finally got situated inside your tent, knowing deep down there wasn’t much you could do. Gale had already returned to camp before you so you definitely couldn’t do the deed yourself without the possibility of further embarrassment, and you sure as hell weren’t going to wander back to Astarion with your hands between your thighs, begging for release.

In the end, the only other option was to get pissed drunk, so you did. And now, you were greatly suffering the consequences in the form of a whole day’s worth of walking under the beating sun alongside an overly stubborn and nosy vampire. 

“All by your lonesome?” 

Without even having to think, he looks at you with the kind of false pity that makes you want to drown him. To lace your fingers in his perfect locks so that you can better shove his face into the water, never to hear that damned voice again. 

Gods, is it ever tempting...

Rolling your eyes, you swear under your breath and shove him aside instead, feeling the edge of your elbow make contact with his chest before you attempt to step forward, feeling his hand pull you back. 

Overall, the motion is quick and painless —a twirling rush that sends you hurtling into his frame, boxing you in in the form of a hand that rests against your lower back— but regardless it still surprises you. 

“Was it because you wanted it?”

His hand lingers against your leathers as he awaits your answer. Barely putting enough weight to truly hold you back, it quickly becomes obvious that your current stance against him is of your own volition. A choice you’ve made during a moment of weak desire as you deeply inhale the dewy air. 

“Wanted what?”

“You know.” 

At this point, you’re positive he knows that you secretly like it when he touches you. When he physically guides you through difficult terrain or lets your fingers brush when trading trinkets after a day of looting. You’ve never made it known that you dislike it —never protested, even during times of tense discussion. All you’ve ever done is make faces of annoyance, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He never does. Not even now, as you press both of your palms against his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you stare him down, does he think to move. To let his hand fall to his side to let you continue your stride. Instead, all it does is remain perfectly still, resting against the small of your back, waiting. 

It makes you swallow hard as you take a step back, feeling the resistance of your hip as it brushes through his fingers.

“You’re really not going to admit it?” he asks then, watching you pause. Feeling you stop mid-step to cock your head and flash him a grin so utterly snobbish, that his facade of confidence finally slips. 

“What? That I want to fuck you?” 

Your voice is patronizing. A pointed tongue laced with poison gunning for his throat. You want him to taste his own medicine. To feel what it’s like to be on the receiving end of taunting words that fluster, so you don’t say much more. All you do is stare, waiting for him to break.

“No, that you want me to fuck you,” he corrects almost immediately, his courage returning ten-fold. Doubling down on the way your mouth slightly opens in annoyance, because even in your boldest of moments he still manages to throw you off.

It makes you want to drown yourself instead, realizing just how persuasive he can be. Without trying, it’s as if he’s perfected every potential conversation before it’s happened. In his mind, he can look at a face —hear the beginnings of their voice and already have the correct response at the ready.

“Do you spend all your time thinking of ways to seduce anyone that gives you the time of day?” As you speak, you fully step away, turning on your heel to let out a shaky breath you pray he doesn’t catch. 

“Only the attractive ones, I suppose.” He laughs and follows behind, his footsteps echoing through the water as you attempt to catch up with the rest of the group. 

“Attractive ones, huh?” You peer over your shoulder with a raised brow. “Is that a genuine compliment you’re offering or another one of your usual deceptions meant to butter me up?”

He doesn’t tell you. Instead, he just offers you a shrug and purses his lips, leaving you guessing —an expression that only tightens the tension that’s seemingly begun to grow.

Well, at least for you. 

Since the night you let him feed, even you have to admit that you’ve found it increasingly hard to resist his charms, remembering how good it felt to just let go for a couple of moments. How, when it happened, there was an inkling of freedom that you felt was found. A new sense of clarity that arrived just as your lifeblood left. 

As much as you’d deny it if asked, you think about it often. At night, when you’re lying in your tent trying to sleep, you frequently attempt to replicate that feeling, calling upon your tadpole to replay the memory of the cold, numbness deep inside your throat.

As you step out of the water onto a patch of grass, you wish you could feel it now instead of the hangover. Instead of the sweltering heat and Astarion's piercing gaze penetrating the back of your head, waiting for another response he’ll just counter. 

It’d certainly make the daily trek you’re experiencing all the more bearable. Being able to forget about the aching in your skull for just a moment would solve at least half of your problems, maybe even two-thirds of them depending on how Astarion proceeds to act. On whether or not he walks in silence or—

“Do you smell that?”

You release a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling your impatience begin to build. “Smell what?”

He loudly sniffs beside you, his nose scrunching upwards dramatically before he turns his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t smell that?” 

“Smell w—“

  Before you even have time to react, it hits you. The foul stench of metallic burning through your mouth and nose, forcing you to cover your face with your hands.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” 

You nod, tightening the hold around your face as you continue forward, realizing you’ve somehow lost the rest of the group —something Astarion notices too, causing both of you to slightly panic.

“Oh, for fuck sakes, really? They couldn’t at least wait for us to finish our…”

As he trails off, waving his hand in the air to replace whatever words die in his throat, you catch a glimpse of an unfamiliar man up ahead, watching as the both of you continue.

“They’re probably over the hill,” you point out then, trying your best not to let the sudden nerves inside your chest get the better of you once you see the nameless man raise his hand, beckoning you closer.

“Who the bloody —do you know him?”

You look at Astarion as if he’s just said the stupidest thing known to man, still moving forward. “Ah yes, the mysterious man standing out in the open! Yes, I know him well, why?”

“Alright, no need to be cruel.” 

“Says you.”

Once again, his response fades to nothing. The argument slipping down his throat once the voice of the man calls out to you.

“Maybe he saw where the others went?”

Astarion scoffs. “Or maybe he’s the one who’s been setting up all those traps.”

“Traps?” 

You don’t remember seeing any traps. But then again, you’re not very perceptive when your head feels like it’s on the verge of splitting in half. 

“Yes, traps. The one’s I’ve been guiding you through like a fucking cattle dog!”

Letting your frustrations get the better of you shove him aside before you can think, turning to let both hands lay waste to his shoulder causing him to stumble sideways. As he does, he looks at you with hesitant curiosity; knitting his brows together while his mouth falls open into a half smile. 

An awkward laugh sounds through the pounding in your head as the footsteps draw near, prompting you to look ahead, noticing the man a few steps away, looking between the two of you. 

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

His words sound sincere —cautious in a way that has you peeling your gaze away from Astarion's wild expression to shake your head.

“No, sorry, just a, uh—“

“A lover’s quarrel,” Astarion finishes. “You know how it is.” 

Angrily you inhale, paying his obviously entertained face no mind as you continue to survey the man now in front of you, noticing the plainness of his clothes and the unkempt hair that circles his face like a halo. 

It’s apparent then that he’s been on the road for some time now. He’s not necessarily dirty looking but quickly you realize he’s the cause of the smell, making you swallow hard in an attempt to suppress the sickness that follows. 

“Ah yes, of course. My apologies.” He laughs —as does Astarion— while you just frown in between, trying not to blow another fuse. 

“I’m sorry but can we help you?” You crane your neck and smile sweetly, letting the more deceptive side of your mind take over, prompting Astarion to quickly clue in and do the same. 

“I was just speaking to your friends up there. They told me you were falling behind.” 

“And that’s your business because?” Raising your brow, you watch him falter for a moment.

“I’ve set some traps along the path. Nothing too hidden if you’ve got a keen eye like all of you, but still, I informed them of their whereabouts.”

Informed them of their whereabouts? Please. This man’s trapping skills are abysmal at best. 

You have to bite your lip once you hear Astarion's insult in the back of your mind, knowing he’s right. It’s one thing for him to notice the traps but for the rest of your party to as well? There’s no way they would’ve noticed if not for the lack of effort put into their placings.

“Well, uh, thank you. That’s decent of you.” You nod but make no effort to move. Instead, you just stand there motionless, staring him down, waiting for him to elaborate further so that you can better gauge this man’s intentions. 

You’re certain they’re anything but innocent. Given the smell wafting off his leathers and the way he keeps glancing over at Astarion with a slight twinkle in his eye makes your suspicion only grow. Your defensive walls rising to their highest point as you look at the vampire, allowing your tadpole to reach out. 

He’s up to something.

“Yes, well, I’m not hunting the likes of you so best avoid the unnecessary conflict and clean up.” The man’s gaze slowly turns to you, a hardened grin creeping through his features, causing you to twitch. 

There’s definitely something off. Something far more sinister underneath that polite expression and overly eager attempt at making small talk but you’re still not sure what it is. Or what it means when he offers you his help. 

“Fair point, but what are you hunting, may I ask?” 

“Something terrifying?” Astarion questions. “Perhaps a dragon or a kobold?”

What if it’s you?

Your partner’s eyes shoot to yours. Immediately, they fill with something you’ve never seen before. Bordering on fear, you’re quick to notice their unexpected vigilance. The building of a thought that drives his mind to something new. 

Suddenly in an instant, he’s overly alert, the movements of his shifting pupils making you wonder if maybe this is the man Astarion's been looking out for. That somewhere in his past he took advantage of the wrong person and they’ve been enacting their revenge ever since. Honestly, it’d make sense. Vampires aren’t the most well-liked of creatures, and although, aside from Astarion you’ve never experienced the company of one, it’s become increasingly obvious he’s a special case. A vampire that excels in all deceptive measures and tactics, preying heavily on whatever victims he can get his hands on. So, it wouldn’t be far off to think this man was hired to kill him. 

Making use of the tadpole again, you reach out silently, feeling no reluctance as the face of a man appears at the back of your mind, towering over you. Black as the night itself, he shrouds you in an ocean of thick shadows that conceal his face but not his presence, and because of this, there’s a panic that rises through your chest. Clutching your lungs with clawed fingertips that threaten to burst them like balloons. 

You force yourself not to look at Astarion as the memory continues —as an angry voice echoes through your ears telling you you’re his. That you belong to him and no one else and that if you so much as step a hair out of line he’ll hunt you down. 

Before you can even react the memory fades, leaving you there to piece together the man in the vision and the hunter standing before you, knowing they’re connected by a common enemy. Strung together by a tether of motivation that ties around Astarion's throat like a tightened noose. 

He’s not here to kill him but to take him away. To snatch him right under your noses by playing the unsuspecting hero. 

“As exciting as those options are, I'm actually on the lookout for a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion but I fear he’s already long gone.”

His confirmation is all you need to let your guard rise further up. Allowing your fingers to stretch against your sides, readying their need to reach for your weapon, you merely nod your head and let Astarion take the reins. 

“Oh, what a pity. It’s always like that for creatures to run away at the illest of moments, isn’t it?” He leans in with that same devilish grin, tossing aside all previous fears in favour of this newfound information. 

“Isn’t it,” the man parrots, shaking his head with a fake laugh. “Rather unfortunate considering I’m only trying to bring him home.” 

“Home?”

The word pours from your lips with such desperation that even the hunter questions your response. Raising his brow, he only slightly leans forward with interest, clicking his tongue as he glances between the two of you. “You wouldn’t happen to know this Astarion character, would you?” 

“I don’t think I’ve heard of him.” 

“Nope.” 

You sound like two opposing sides of a coin. Astarion, ever the charmer responds with subtly, the structure of his body remaining calm and collected while you remain a ball of nerves. A tightly wound set of muscle and bone too quick on the draw for your response to be deemed believable.

“He’s dangerous, you know. A wicked thing. Or, so I’ve heard.” He’s speaking solely to you but regardless Astarion continues to control the conversation, pulling it all back with a loud hum. 

“Wicked you say? Care to elaborate.”

There’s confusion for a moment. Then acceptance, prompting the man in front of you to explain. “While he’s nothing more than a vampiric spawn, he’s still got quite the head on his shoulders. Cunning, but nothing compared to a real vampire.” 

You know Astarion’s fuming beneath his facade then. Eagerly awaiting to rip this man apart, limb by bloody limb once the opportunity arises. You can feel his emotions through the tadpole —the way they pulse in angry waves, threatening to spill out at a moment’s notice. 

Almost instantly, it forces you to push him back. Closing your eyes for a second or two, you shift thoughts of comfort to his head, letting him know that you’re there. That if the moment comes where this hunter makes his move you’ll be ready to defend him.

Thankfully, it calms him down —steadies the rousing anger that you know is still there, lingering beneath the surface. Allowing him to take a few breaths, resetting himself for the inevitable. 

“I mean, I’m no expert but considering they’re still technically vampires I feel it’s safe to assume you’re still at the risk of… oh, I don’t know, injury? A good maiming perhaps if the spawn were to be particularly famished?” 

“You’re not wrong, I suppose. Spawns are particularly powerful compared to the average but considering the sun’s high and dry I’d say we have the advantage.” 

“Do we now?”

The two of you share a glance. Astarion's tadpole squirms in time with your own and in an instant a plot is formed.

“Actually, now that you mention it I have heard tell of this Astarion fellow,” you muse, watching the man’s expression. How it changes from innocent hero to hungry hunter at the drop of a hat. 

Next to you, Astarion nods his head, echoing your words.

“You don’t say?” 

“We were actually a part of a camp not far from here last night. A big group. So, it makes sense why the name didn’t come to me sooner.” You push out a fake laugh, acting as if the whole thing’s some silly little mistake while you wave a hand through the air. “Now that you’ve reminded me though, he was definitely there, lurking about like a little leech.” 

You wiggle your fingers for dramatics, earning a scoff inside your mind that has you forcing back a genuine laugh, sensing Astarion’s annoyance. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know what way he was going?” 

This time Astarion pipes up. “I remember him saying something but, honestly, my uh, memory is a big foggy.” 

As he raises a hand to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose, you motion the man to move close. “Perhaps a bit of coin could remind my uh, lover here of the information you seek.” 

Lover, huh? 

Paying no mind to his internal dialogue, you rub your fingers together to signify your partner’s needs, watching intently as the man leans back and looks at you with slight annoyance before taking a moment, realizing he’s got nothing to lose. 

Considering the payout will more than likely cover such costs, he quickly turns his attention to the bag resting on his hip, opening it up with slow hands that you jump at the chance to catch off guard. 

Pulling a dagger off your hip, you make no sound as you drive the blade into the side of his throat. All you do is press a hand to his mouth, covering the groans that swiftly coat your fingers in blood, following him toward the ground. 

“I’d say be wary the next time you come snooping in other people’s business but I’m afraid it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” you tell him, feeling him struggle. Seeing him reach out to grab the knife that sits tightly in your hand, wedging itself further into the apex of his neck. Suddenly, it makes you realize what you’ve done. 

You’ve just killed a man in cold blood. And for the life of another killer, no less. Without so much as a thought, you drove this man straight to his grave, knowing that if you didn’t the probability of him gaining the upper hand would only grow. That if he survived and caught on to your ploy, he could’ve taken Astarion away. 

You realize then that you’re anything but ready for something like that to happen. Sure, he may be the cause of a lot of your frustrations throughout the day but somehow he manages to balance them out with his charm. With his innate ability to provide you with a space that’s begun to border the lines of comfort the more time you spend with him. 

It’d hurt too much to let him go. But it’d hurt even more knowing he’d be going back to his old life. To the one you still know so little about but feel its pain. The never-ending threat of a figure controlling his every movement. He may not have spared the details but you know the last thing he wants is to find his way back there, so you did what you had to do to prevent that. To keep him safe just as you so subtly promised. 

Breathing heavily, you let go of the knife and look toward him, asking him if he’s okay. 

“Okay? Darling, you can’t be serious!”

“What?” 

He’s kneeling on the ground beside you before anything else, reaching to grab your shoulders, pulling you roughly into his chest. “You just asked that man to pay us money and then jabbed a knife through his throat. If anyone should be asking who’s okay here, it’s me.”

“I’m fine. Are y—“

“Shhh.”

Up until now, it hadn’t occurred to you how badly you’d been shaking. Against his chest, you can feel the tremors of adrenaline take over as your head slowly lowers to his shoulder, releasing a loud and shaky breath. 

You know exactly what came over you at that moment. The fear of losing the only person that’s ever made you feel happy despite your flaws became too real and it caused you to lose all sense of preservation. 

Almost instantly, you became nothing more than a weapon —a striking blade shoved through opposing flesh. You felt the threat of the moment and your mind flew through all the other possibilities, landing on the only ending where Astarion's safety was ensured. 

Realizing this, you slowly move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling him hesitate halfway through. 

It’s obvious then you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, so you go to pull away, apologizing under your breath as you feel his grip only tighten. 

“Are you okay?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking. Or why he refuses to let you go. “Astarion, I said I’m fine.” 

“Yes but are you okay?”

One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, pulling your focus back to him. Forcing you to see the uncharacteristic care inside his eyes as he thumbs your skin. It causes your tadpole to wriggle almost uncontrollably, discovering the connection that’s there. The unspoken bond he shares with you now that you’ve proved your loyalty. It’s enough to earn your honesty. To admit that you’re not okay while he continues to hold you. 

You’re not sure why you care so much for him. Maybe it’s the attention he offers in a world where loneliness is often rampant or the way he makes you laugh even during the most unsightly moments. Either way, all you know is that in this moment you’re afraid he’ll hate you for it. For letting the curtain of snide remarks and harsh jokes slip to reveal a body of emotions too big for you to carry by yourself. 

“I couldn’t let him take you.” 

Your voice is barely above a whisper. So inaudible against the sounds of the world around you that for a second you think you’ve spoke to his mind.

“I see that. You struck him before I could even ask him to sweeten the deal.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Astarion snorts and moves his hand, letting it glide across your cheek until it finds purchase beneath your chin. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You saw a dangerous man and took charge. Honestly, it was frightening.” 

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of?”

“Of me?” 

The laugh he lets go of is so full that this time you feel him shake, his frame rattling against yours as he taps your chin. “Not in the slightest, my dear. Impressed, maybe. A little bit turned on too if I’m being frank but no. Not scared.”

-

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[stevie-petey]

episode nine: the fall

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.” He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

Summary: surprise ! life still carries on even with minor brain damage from constant concussions :( on the bright side, you and the gang all become homies. meanwhile, steve grapples with the warm fuzzies and parental issues before his worst nightmare happens: you meet robin. the horrors !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, swearing, mentions of wounds

Words: 9.1k

Before you swing in: this is it !!! last official chapter of season 2 :) this chapter is pure fluff yall. just 9k words of utter disgusting bug n steve, so i hope it makes up for how long it took for them to get to this point lmao. enjoy !

-

True to your promise with Jonathan, nothing necessarily changes between the two of you; things just shift. You stop being so tactile with him out of respect for Nancy, now only reaching for his hand for comfort rather than to have him so near. It takes some trial and error, but eventually the two of you manage to strike up a good balance.

You still spend most of your days either together at his house or yours. Only now, Nancy accompanies you, and it’s lovely.

“Dustin told me that Steve practically drooled over you last night before the Snowball.” Jonathan teases you, hunched over his kitchen table scribbling a half-assed essay that’s already a day late.

Nancy giggles as you throw your pencil at the boy. “That did not happen, mind your own business.”

“I don’t know, Y/N. He kept staring at you today during lunch.” Nancy slides over her paper and taps her pencil on a particular problem she’s stuck on. She’s still getting used to talking about this with you, but she pushes aside her unease and tries anyway. “Do you know the answer for number five?”

Her words cause you to blush, your mind still reeling from your conversation with Steve last night. You told him you’d wait for him, and he looked at you as if you’d promised him the world and more. Then, today at lunch, Steve had boldly found you sitting with Nancy and Jonathan outside and joined.

It was a welcome change, and he sat so close to you that your thighs pressed together underneath the picnic bench you’d been eating at.

“He wasn’t staring at me,” you mumble, embarrassed and still feeling his weight pressed against you, before sliding your paper over to Nancy. “And I got Henry Ford.”

Frowning, Nancy erases her answer. “That makes no sense.”

“My answer or Steve not staring at me?”

“Both.” Nancy and Jonathan say at the same time.

You throw another pencil at Jonathan. “I wasn’t talking to you, write your late essay.”

He ducks, “Would you stop?”

“Not unless you stop speaking.”

“This is my house, bug–”

“And I can call your mom right now and she’d let me stay.” You cross your arms at Jonathan, knowing you’ve already won the argument. “Any more complaints?”

Jonathan goes back to writing his essay, grumbling under his breath about how you can’t keep pulling the mom card, and you giggle at his anger alongside Nancy. He’s the one who wanted the two of you to get along, he should’ve known that you and Nancy would just make his life miserable.

The three of you go back to working quietly at the table, you and Nancy occasionally asking each other for help on certain questions, while Jonathan grows more and more frustrated by his essay. After he’s angrily scribbled out his fifth line, Nancy snatches the paper from him and points towards the back door.

“Out,” she tells him.

Jonathan blinks. “What?”

“Go outside, take a small walk, and calm down. You’re frustrated and won’t get anywhere if you keep this up.”

They stare at each other, Nancy silently daring him to argue with her, and you watch in amusement. She has him wrapped around her finger, and after only a few seconds, Jonathan sighs and gets up from the kitchen table. “I’m doing this because I want to, alright?”

You snort. “Sure, buddy.”

He gives you the finger, presses a kiss to Nancy’s forehead, and then grabs a coat to go outside.

Once he’s gone, Nancy turns to you and sets down her pencil. “So, how long are you planning on pretending that Steve doesn’t like you?”

You whip your head up, dropping your pencil in the process, startled by her forward question. “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me.”

“I…” Though you’ve slowly gotten used to Nancy being with Jonathan, it still feels too soon to talk to her about Steve, even if she’s given you her blessing. It feels too raw, too inappropriate, to discuss it with her. “I don’t think we should talk about this–”

“C’mon, Y/N. It’s obvious he at least feels something for you, and if anyone deserves Steve, it’s you.” Nancy gently takes your hand, her voice sincere. “He came outside for lunch looking for you today, he drove you to the Snowball, he’s been visiting you at work ever since you smiled at him last year.”

You look away from her. “It’s… complicated.”

“It’s not…” Nancy swallows, clears her throat, and looks away as well. It still has taken her time to adjust to the shift between the four of you, to finally understand that it’s now okay to talk about these things with one another. “It’s not because of me, right?”

A beat of silence passes, and when you don’t say anything, Nancy sighs. “Shit.”

“He’s still healing, Nance.” You admit, feeling bad for bringing this upon her. You don’t want her to feel responsible for any of it, it’s not her fault that the boys you’ve loved have loved her first. The wound of it has healed now, though the scar that it has left will never fade.

You both know this, neither one of you want to admit it to the other.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” She shakes her head, the familiar guilt of somehow always the one hurting you clawing at her. “I wish things had been different between me and him.”

You shrug, you don’t see any reason to blame her. “I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t wish things had been different between the two of you,” you admit, knowing how bizarre it may sound. When Nancy raises her eyebrows, you’re quick to explain. “What I mean is, if Steve had never been with you, who knows who he’d be now? Or if Jonathan had never been my best friend, would you still have found each other?”

Nancy bites her lip, still unconvinced. “I don’t know, Y/N…”

“I think, truthfully, that we all unwound with who we were supposed to.” You’re not sure how to explain this, to express your unusual way of viewing such complex situations. “Without our histories, without being so intertwined with one another, I don’t think we ever would’ve unwound how we were supposed to. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” Nancy nods, although hesitant. “And Steve is still… Unwinding from me?”

You cringe, knowing how silly it all sounds. “I know it sounds dumb, but he is, and while I’m not saying he doesn’t like me… I told him to take his time.”

“You’d really wait for him?”

“I would.”

Nancy sighs and goes back to her assignment, continuously amazed by your selflessness. “You’re too good.”

You shrug again, now used to being told this by others. It doesn’t bother you like it used to, you’ve come to view your kindness as something wholly yours and no one else’s to understand. It took so much violence to become so kind, and you will never, ever apologize for it now. “It adds to my charm.”

Jonathan walks back in right as Nancy bursts into loud laughter, you do as well, the remaining tension between you and her now gone. He sees the way she clutches her stomach and how you have to grab onto the table so you don’t fall over as you laugh. “Did I miss something?”

You wipe at your eyes, still giggling. “No, bee. Sit down and do your work.”

“Yeah,” Nancy giggles again, feeling breathless. “What Y/N said.”

“You two are the worst.” Jonathan slumps in his seat and goes back to his essay.

“You love us,” you tease, knowing that he hasn’t told Nancy this yet.

He smiles shyly and avoids Nancy’s eye. “Yeah, I do.”

They both blush and there’s a childish energy to them, shy and soft and sweet. You watch them with a warm smile, endlessly happy for them both; they’re sweet to watch, still shy around one another.

As you watch Jonathan and Nancy giggle softly as they help each other with their assignments, looking over at you for help as well, you know that junior year is finally starting to look up.

–

Steve continues to join you, Jonathan, and Nancy for lunch. He makes himself a permanent seat next to you, never once straying far from your side, and eventually he even ends up back in the library with the three of you.

It’s reminiscent of your sophomore year, back when you’d just defeated the Demogorgon and Nancy had gone back to Steve. For a brief few months, you’d all study in the library together and formed your own nice, albeit tense, group.

Then lines and threads became tangled and unspoken feelings became harsh actions.

Now, Nancy and Jonathan are whispering about something, off in their own world, and you’re currently helping Steve with an English assignment.

It’s the last day before winter break, so it’s hard getting him to pay attention to what you’re saying. All he can focus on is the way you’ve pinned your hair up, some pieces of hair falling over your face, and how you look so lovely in your white sweater.

“Are you listening to me?” You ask him, narrowing your eyes.

Steve coughs, knowing he’s been caught. “Yeah, totally.”

“Okay,” you cross your arms and lean back in your seat, distancing yourself from the boy, which only makes him frown. “What did I just say, then?”

“C’mere,” he huffs at you, tugging at your chair so that you’re now pressed flush against him; just the way he likes it. You blush, your stomach flutters wildly at the idea that he can’t be more than five inches away from you. Steve sees this, sends you a wink, and tries to use this to his advantage. “We both know I wasn’t listening, angel.”

Angel.

It’s become his new name for you, though he hasn’t said it since the night of the Snowball; the name drips from his lips as if saturated in sunlight. Although you want to litter his face with kisses and call him lovely and handsome and wonderful, you know that in this instance, Steve has only used the nickname to get on your good side.

And two can play that game.

“I don’t know, honey.” You lean in closer to Steve, angling your head so that you look up at him while you use your own name for him. His breath always hitches when you look up at him like this, when you call him honey again for the first time all sweet and soft. “I was hoping you’d been listening.”

Steve gulps, he’s still not used to the way your voice dips low when you want his attention. How when you call him honey he swears he can taste the residue of it in his mouth. He leans closer as well, your faces inches apart, and he’s forgotten what the two of you are even talking about. “I–I’m sorry?”

As soon as he’s apologized, you pull yourself away, just before Steve’s lips land on yours, and go back to the English assignment. You’re immensely pleased with yourself, especially when Steve almost face plants against the library table when you suddenly move away. “Apology accepted! Now, let’s go back to Shakespeare, shall we?”

Steve’s jaw drops, only now realizing that he’s been tricked. “Oh, that was evil, Y/N.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink at him, and Steve has never wanted to kiss a smirk off of someone’s face more.

He’s addicted to it, honestly.

Later that day, once school has let out, Steve drives you to work. This was another shift that came with Jonathan and Nancy getting together. While your best friend still drives you to school, it’s now Steve who drives you to work and picks you up.

He enjoys spending the time with you, having you all to himself during the simple ten minute drive to Bookstrordinary. The two of you rarely say much during these drives, and it’s everything Steve could ask for and more; he simply has you with him, nothing else needs to be said or done.

Mrs. Waters greets him with a knowing smile, the woman has become more invested in Steve’s infatuation with you than even your mother. “Hello, young man.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” Steve gives her a wave and walks over to his usual station: behind the counter, waiting for you.

You give your boss a quick hug and clock in. “Any new shipments today?”

“All the new books are in the back, so make sure your handsome man does all the heavy lifting, sweetie.” Mrs. Waters giggles at her own words before she slowly makes her way into her office.

“Well,” you nudge Steve. “You heard the woman, you’re a handsome man. Go do the heavy lifting.”

The compliment, though indirect, still rolls over Steve in slow, warm waves. He smiles bashfully at you. “Handsome, huh?”

“Oh, don’t pretend as if you didn’t know.” You flick his nose and walk over to the back door to start retrieving the new shipment. “Seriously, though. Could you help me with these boxes?”

Steve is quick to run over and help, he will always be happy to help you, but before he picks up a box, a thought occurs to him. Leaning against the doorframe, he smirks at you. “I’ll help, after you explain to me that little stunt you pulled earlier in the library.”

“What stunt?” A huff escapes you as you try to pick up a box, but Mrs. Waters had been right. The shipment is heavy, and Steve is currently useless.

“The whole ‘honey’ thing.”

You look up at Steve, knowing exactly what he’s asking, but you toy with him anyways. “Only if you explain the whole ‘angel’ thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He groans, annoyed that you’re so good at dodging all of his questions. He doesn’t know what makes you Hendersons so great at deception, but it’s a terrifying thing to witness. “You’re an angel, it’s a fitting name for you.”

Though you’d been expecting him to say this, hearing Steve’s explanation still causes you to blush. Normally it bothers you when people call you an angel and act as if you’re some person above everyone else, but with Steve you know that he means it so genuinely. To him, you’re an angel because he knows you so well.

He doesn’t view you as this innocent creature that can do no wrong; Steve knows how you came to be, he knows the anger you once held, and it’s because of this that he has come to view you as angelic. It takes a lot for someone to become kind again, and Steve knows this better than anyone else.

“You’re sweet honey,” you finally respond, your face still warm from the vulnerability. You want to try for him, become okay with the feeling of being seen. “You asked for a nickname, and that’s what I’ve landed on. Any more questions?”

Steve practically melts against the doorway, and you almost giggle at the sight. “I’m honey?”

“Mhm, sweet honey, but honey sounds less dramatic.”

He laughs, his head is spinning and he’s so enamored with you. “Okay, I like that, but can I ask one more question before I agree to helping you?”

You roll your eyes but nod, secretly enjoying this moment with him. “Ask away.”

“Why honey? Not that I’m complaining, but…” Steve shrugs. “Not so creative.”

You gasp, “Are you saying you don’t accept my nickname for you?”

“No! I–” Steve frantically tries to correct what he’s said, but you grab his hand to calm him down.

“Relax, Steve. I was teasing,” you give his hand a squeeze, his fingers are strong against yours, and take a deep breath. The explanation is more intimate than you’d like, but he deserves to know. “Did you know that honey can be used to treat wounds?”

Steve shakes his head, silent as he listens.

“It’s a natural remedy, an unsuspecting cure, disguised as something only sweet.” You’re suddenly shy again, but you offer Steve more of yourself because you can; because he’s here, all warmth and love and summer. He’s healed wounds within you that you hadn’t known existed until you noticed their scars fading—cuts that have littered your skin from abandonment, guilt, and love. “When I was young, my dad would take me to this local farm on my birthday every summer and he would buy me honey. We’d use it to make sweet tea.”

You pause, the memory practically on your tongue as you remember the taste of the local farmer’s honey and how it would drizzle, slow and smooth, into your sweet tea. You remember your father’s laugh, how he would boast to the entire town that his sweet tea could win awards. “I never really liked tea, but my dad’s sweet tea was amazing.”

The honey had been his secret ingredient.

Steve is quiet after you’ve finished your story. He takes his time responding, he allows the story you’ve told to sink in, he rolls it around in his head, memorizes its details. He knows that you don’t like talking about your father, and the fact that you’ve shared a happy memory about him with Steve…

“Thank you,” he says. There’s a weight behind his thanks, he knows he will never be able to put into words how much this means to him. He tries, though, and pours every truth that he can into his words, “I love the nickname.”

The two of you begin unpacking the new shipment of books after that, working silently side by side.

It’s a lovely summer day within Bookstrordinary, even though it’s the middle of winter in Hawkins.

–

This Christmas Eve, you have your entire kitchen on lockdown. No one is allowed to come in, all food and drinks have been thrown onto the dining room table for others to use. Your hair is tied up, your apron is on, and you’ve banished Dustin from even looking at you.

“This is excessive, even for you.” Dustin scoffs from the living room, annoyed that he can’t even sit at the counter and watch.

You’ve just preheated the oven and are now whisking your dry ingredients together for Mike’s favorite brownies. There’s a rack of Will’s oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter cooling off, alongside Mrs. Wheeler’s sugar cookies she loves. “You lost your baking privileges when you mixed up the salt and sugar last year. Those gingerbread cookies were awful.”

“They’re both white! How was I supposed to know?”

“Stop talking and leave,” you point towards the living room with your whisk and some powder flies out of the bowl in the process.

Dustin tries to argue, but then the doorbell rings and he immediately breaks out into a shit eating grin. “Perfect timing.”

“What–” You try to question what your brother is up to, but he’s already run to answer the door. Sighing, you slowly mix in your wet ingredients and mumble to yourself, “I hate him. I really do.”

“Who do we hate?” Steve slides into the kitchen, not a care in the world, and slides right into Jonathan’s peanut butter cups. “Shit!”

“Steve!” You quickly catch the desserts, barely able to hold onto the bowl of brownie batter in your hands. Once the crisis is averted, you turn to Steve and begin hitting him with your batter covered whisk, effectively ruining his sweater. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited him!” Dustin now slides into the kitchen as well, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Steve looks down at the batter he’s covered in and scraps some off with his finger before bringing it to his mouth. He hums, nods appreciatively, and smacks his lips. “Ya know, why haven’t I had this before?”

“The brownies are for Mike.” Dustin says, sneakily popping a peanut butter cup into his mouth.

“Wheeler should share, this batter is delicious.” Steve licks some more off of his sweater and you and Dustin cringe at him. When he sees this, he simply shrugs at you both. “What? My sweater is clean.”

You shake your head at the teen in disappointment. “Never thought I’d have to say this, but please stop licking your sweater, Steve.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, albeit with a slight scoff. “Sue a man for not wasting food.”

You blow a piece of hair out of your face and go back to the batter. “Again I ask: what are you doing here?”

“Like the kid said, he invited me.” Steve points to Dustin, who sends you a thumbs up. “Didn’t know I’d be walking into a war zone, though.”

“It’s Christmas Eve,” you say, as if this is all the explanation he needs. When Steve only tilts his head at you in confusion, you huff and put down your bowl so you can quickly explain. “I bake everyone their favorite desserts for Christmas, and normally it’s fine. However, now I have Max, Nancy, Hopper, and El to add to my baking list and I…”

You stumble, now suddenly feeling the effects of baking all day catching up to you. You’re slightly woozy, you can’t remember if you had lunch today. “I’m doing great, honestly.”

“She’s going insane.” Dustin loudly whispers to Steve, his fingers circling around his head in a “crazy” motion.

Steve ignores the boy and stands next to you, placing a hand to the small of your back and leans over your shoulder, allowing you to lean back against him. It’s a simple gesture, and you melt immediately against him. “Give me a bowl and recipe, angel. I’ll help you bake.”

You reluctantly move away from Steve and quickly find a piece of paper and a pen to scribble the recipe for Nancy’s chocolate chip cookies. It’s an easy enough recipe, you trust that Steve can handle the basics.

As you hand the recipe to him, Dustin’s jaw drops. “What, no fair! Why can’t I help bake?”

“Salt and sugar, Dustin. Salt and sugar.”

Steve gathers the ingredients he needs. “Do you have a spare apron?”

“I mean, sure,” you show him where one hangs next to the doorway. “But you’re already covered in brownie batter, so I’m not sure why you need one now.”

“Wanna match with you,” Steve quickly ties the strings around his waist, the apron is far too small on him and it makes you giggle.

Dustin, now very much third wheeling, throws his hands up in the air and marches out of the room. “You two are disgusting, ya know that?”

“Love you too!” You call after the boy, who responds by marching even louder towards his room.

With your brother gone and with Steve’s help, you manage to get through the rest of your baking list in no time. While you hadn’t expected Steve to necessarily fail in the kitchen, you were also pleasantly surprised by how comfortable he seemed to be while helping you bake.

“How’d you get so good at measuring sugar?”

Steve doesn’t look up from his measuring cup, too focused on the task at hand as he carefully counts out how many cups he will need. “My mom.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, not having expected the answer. He never really brought his parents up, something that you’ve noticed but never touched on with him. You figured it was like your father, never wanting to talk about someone who has hurt you.

Hesitantly, you try to learn more. “Does she bake with you a lot?”

“She used to,” Steve counts his third cup and mixes it into the bowl, now working on Max’s coconut bites. “Back when I was little, we used to bake her banana bread together all the time.”

His voice is light, the conversation isn’t a painful one for Steve, so you decide it’s safe to press further. “Well, if you can remember the recipe, I’m sure we can bake it today.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Of course I mean it, dummy.” The way he’s looking at you with such genuine enthusiasm makes your heart hurt; he’s surprised you’ve offered him kindness. “I was going to bake you those caramel banana cookies, so I have some ripe bananas anyways–”

You’re cut off by Steve’s arms wrapping around you. He holds you tight, and he smells of sugar and cinnamon; it’s an addicting scent. “Thank you,” he breathes out, touched that you would do such a thing for him, and you tighten around him, happy that you’re able to give him this.

Later that night, when you walk Steve to his car after a long day of baking, he opens his passenger side door and grabs something from the seat. You watch him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“You think I came all the way here on Christmas Eve without a gift for you?” Steve teases, a smirk on his face as he hides something behind his arms.

You gasp, “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Dustin called, I answered, and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to surprise you,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “Plus, I got homemade banana bread out of it, so shush and close your eyes.”

“Fine, but only because I have your gift waiting in my room. The second we’re done here, I’m running inside and bragging about my impeccable gift giving abilities.”

Steve chuckles fondly, knowing that whatever you will give him will ultimately be his favorite gift he’s ever received. “Okay, moron. Close your eyes.”

With a giggle, you close your eyes and eagerly await whatever you’re about to be given. Steve’s gift from last year, a signed poster of the original Spider-Man comic, now hangs on your bedroom wall. You love it dearly, every time you look at it, you smile.

Something soft is placed within your hands. Its texture is woolen, the material is heavy yet lightweight, and while you can’t figure out exactly what it is, you can’t help but notice how expensive it feels. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You do, and when you see what Steve has given you, you gasp. “Oh, it’s beautiful!”

Within your hands is a cardigan. The wool it has been knitted with is a lovely cream color, and you bring the clothing closer to admire all the wonderful details within the knit pattern. With small pieces of wool, hints of baby blues and pinks weave in and out of the cream. Along the front are buttons made from a beautiful dark wood, polished to perfection.

Steve lets out a nervous chuckle and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, well. Figured I owed you a new cardigan after basically tearing apart your old one.”

“I was bleeding out, Steve.” Your finger traces over a button, its wood is cool to the touch and so smooth that you can hardly believe it’s real. “If you hadn’t torn my favorite cardigan to stop the bleeding, I wouldn’t be alive today to call you an idiot for even considering I would be mad about that–”

As you admire one of the sleeves, your finger catches on something. Turning the clothing around, you see, within the inside of the sleeve, a messily sewn on patch. The stitches are crooked and horribly uneven, clearly done by someone unskinned with a needle. “What’s this?”

Steve clears his throat, uncharacteristically flustered. “Just… Something I added.”

The patch is small, no bigger than an inch or so, with messy handwriting on it that has become familiar to you through long hours at Bookstrordinary helping you write down all the orders needed for shipments.

S.H.

Steve must mistake your stunned silence for disgust, because he quickly tries to take the cardigan away from you in embarrassment. “Fuck, you–you think it’s weird and you hate it and I went too far–”

He had wanted to give you a piece of himself somehow.

His panicked rambling is cut off by your entire body being thrown against his. Suddenly he has an armful of you, flushed against him in the December chill, and Steve’s heartbeat threatens to beat out of his chest. He has you right where he wants you, in his arms with your perfume swirling around his brain as he buries his face into your hair.

Everything calms within him, all the panic and insecurity he had just been feeling is now gone.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re now crying. No one has ever made something for you, and the hand sewn patch that now resides on your beautiful cardigan makes everything within you burn.

Steve’s fingers slowly make their way to your hair and he risks pressing a kiss atop of your head. He relishes in the way his lips feel against your hair, how it feels like he’s done this all his life. “You really like it?”

“I love it.” You pull your head from his chest and catch his eye. They shine when they look at you, and you can’t help but think about how similar they look compared to last summer. Last July Steve had looked at you like he’d fall to his knees for you and kiss every crevice of your skin if you’d asked him to, and you had run away, terrified of the feelings you weren’t ready to face.

Now, as Steve stares down at you still as if you’re holding the sun within your hands, all you can think is home.

Home.

What a fascinating concept, being able to find a home within someone’s arms.

And it’s a fall like no other.

“I’m glad you love it,” Steve is breathless, both relieved and in awe that he’s done something to render you this speechless, that he has this effect on you.

Neither of you know how long you stand there wrapped in each other, but eventually you force yourself to detangle from the boy. When Steve groans at the loss of your touch, you gently shove him away with a smile. “I still owe you a gift, dummy.”

He thinks about this for a moment, hums to himself and taps his finger against his chin. You giggle, which is all he wanted to make you do, and finally he seems to come to a decision. “Fine, I will allow this because I wanna know what you got me.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick Steve’s nose and begin walking towards your house. “I’ll be back in a second!”

Steve watches as you run back inside, the cardigan he has gifted you is clutched tightly to your chest, and he knows he’s falling as well. He can feel it, the slight tug within his chest that expands into a warmth that steadily beats alongside his heart.

As you promised, you’re back with a small box wrapped in a simple blue paper within no time. Only this time, you’re now wearing the cardigan and Steve’s heart skips a beat when he sees you.

You’re practically skipping as you return to his side, stupidly excited for Steve to see what you’ve gotten for him; you all but shove the gift into his hands. “Open it!”

He can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm, though his heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled yet. “So bossy.”

You ignore Steve’s teasing and instead watch the look on his face as he unwraps the box and opens its lid. Within the box, tucked delicately between sheets of tissue paper, is a framed photo of Steve and Dustin.

A mix of emotions cross Steve’s face, from shock to curiosity to pure adoration. His lips part slightly, a slight gasp escapes him. “Y/N…”

You’re beaming, though you shrug as if it’s just another Monday for you. The photo is your favorite, taken the other day while they worked on a robot set that Steve had brought over. “Jonathan left his camera at my place a few weeks ago, and you and Dustin looked incredibly sweet working together, so… I snuck a picture while you two were busy bickering over drill bit sizes.”

In the picture, Dustin’s hands are gesturing wildly at Steve, his eyes manic, yet there’s a genuine smile on both of their faces despite the clear indications that they’re arguing. Tools are scattered around them and a poor, misshapen robot lays discarded on the table in front of them, long forgotten in the midst of their argument.

It’s the perfect photo, honestly.

Steve lets out a wet chuckle, his eyes are shining with fondness. “That kid is such a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah, but you can’t help but love him anyway.” You nudge him, drawing his attention back to you. “It’s not often I see Dustin befriend someone so quickly, ya know.”

Steve ducks his head down, flushed from what you’re implying. “Yeah, well. He’s a good kid.”

“He is.” You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips against his cheek, before whispering into his ear, “and so are you.”

You feel Steve shiver, and he grips at your waist so that you can’t back away again. He pauses for a moment, allows your words to sink in and your kiss to seep throughout his body. There’s more he wants to say, his lips practically beg to be drawn to yours, but he takes a deep breath and says what he knows he can give you. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Your lips graze Steve’s ear and he shivers again. This, he knows, is where he was always meant to be.

–

Spring comes, and Steve doesn’t get into any of the colleges he applied for.

It’s a hard blow, and the months you’ve spent trying to rebuild his confidence comes crashing down within seconds.

Steve draws into himself, you don’t see him at school for a few days and he doesn’t stop by your work. He’s embarrassed, hiding from his shame of not being good enough to even get into Tech. He’s everything his father told him he’d be. A failure, an embarrassment to the Harrington name.

You give Steve a few days to himself, trusting that he’ll come back when he’s ready; you know how deeply he carries the weight of his father’s expectations. However, when almost a week goes by without any word from the teen, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Which leads you to now: knocking on Steve’s door with platters of fresh baked goods, Mike and the others holding their own assortment of snacks and movies for tonight.

It took a lot of bargaining and multiple batches of brownies, but in the end you convinced Dustin and the others to surprise Steve with a movie night at his house. You knew his parents would be out of town this week, they’re hardly ever home anyways.

After a few swift knocks, you don’t have to wait long before Steve opens the door. He looks tired, his hair is a mess and he’s wearing the ratty sweatpants that you absolutely hate on him. It looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and when he sees who is behind his door, he frowns. “Why are you all holding snacks?”

“Well, hello to you too, buddy.” Dustin is the first to enter, shoving past Steve without a care in the world. He looks around and whistles, impressed with the house. “Y/N said you were rich, but damn.”

“Is that a pool?” Lucas makes his way in as well, Max loosely holding his hand as she follows.

El looks up at you. “What is a pool?”

“Mike,” you call for the boy to get his attention. When he turns to you, brownie shoved in his mouth, you point towards El. “Can you explain to her what a pool is while I talk to Steve?”

Mike salutes you and grabs El’s hand, yanking her inside so that you’re left alone with the teen. As soon as they’re gone, Steve lets out an exasperated sigh. “What is this, Y/N?”

“Mandatory movie night!” You exclaim, hoping that your fake enthusiasm will be enough to rub off on him as well. You really, really hope that this plan works.

Steve sighs again, his heart isn’t in it to play along. “Y/N…”

“You’ve missed an entire week of school and Bookstrordinary misses its most loyal customer.” You’re basically pleading now, scared that Steve will turn you and everyone else away. “I just… I miss you and I know you enjoy the kids, even if you try to deny it, and I want you to just spend this one night with us. No worrying about the future, no family drama, just me, you, and the kids as we watch horrible scary movies and eat an unhealthy amount of sugar, okay?”

“But–”

“No, you’re not allowed to argue with me.” Steve stares at you, baffled, but you simply barge past him and enter the home as well. “We’re going to have fun tonight, damn it.”

He watches as you walk inside and start ordering the kids around. Within no time, you’ve arranged a neat row of cookies and brownies and chips and dinosaur nuggets on his dining room table while the kids start making a fort in the living room.

Steve sighs, knowing he’s long lost this battle with you, and joins you to help with grabbing more blankets and pillows for the fort.

One part of the deal for a movie night at Steve’s was allowing all the kids to pick their own movie to watch. You’d been very hesitant to say yes to this, but ultimately Mike’s nagging won in the end. His movie choice goes first, and within the first fifteen minutes of it, a fort has been made and the kids quickly settle within it, a mess of sheets and pillows and blankets.

You’re on the couch, lazily stretched out, knowing that there’s no room for you in the fort with the others. You don’t mind, you honestly prefer having the couch to yourself, and you only further come to enjoy this when Steve makes his way into the living room and looks around.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks, slightly offended that he doesn’t get to share the fort.

“Here,” you pat the couch, though you don’t bother to make any room for him. Your entire body rests on the couch, there isn’t enough space for him to sit comfortably on the edge.

Steve bites his lip. He wants, more than anything, to lay on top of you and melt into your body, but he just isn’t sure what boundaries have been placed between the two of you. When you notice his misplaced hesitation, you simply sigh and tug at his legs, causing him to fall on top of you. “Shit–”

He collapses onto you and your body braces for his impact, the weight of him foreign yet welcome. He’s wearing the cologne you love and you reach for his shirt to tug him closer so that he’s now properly laying on you. You sigh happily, wrapping your arms around Steve. “See, was that so hard?”

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just asked.” Steve grumbles, but he situates himself so that he’s laying more comfortably on you and scoops you into his own arms as well. He rests his head against your chest and your fingers find their way into his hair, as they always seem to do.

Steve closes his eyes and lets himself enjoy your touch, for once not caring that the kids are just below the two of you in their fort. Normally he’s more reserved around you when they’re near, especially Dustin.

That kid never lets Steve catch a break when it comes to you.

But he’s exhausted and has spent the last week either crying or pretending that he’s someone he isn’t, so Steve indulges in your warmth and relishes in the way your fingers seem to unconsciously draw small circles on his back; he’s so fucking grateful that you exist.

You’re always there to catch him, to remind him of who he can be despite his continuous flaws.

The surprise movie night ends up being everything Steve needs. He laughs at Mike’s horrible jokes, shows El how to use the VHR, he argues with Max about whether peanut butter belongs with chocolate, Dustin throws popcorn at you when you kiss Steve’s cheek, and Lucas even asks him about basketball and if he has any advice for him once he gets to high school.

It’s the most fun Steve has had in a while, and he realizes why you spend so much time with these kids. They’re everything, really. Smart and fucking hilarious and easy to be around. They’re honest with him, they tell him he’s an idiot for not getting into college while in the same breath debating with him about if college is even worth it.

Plus, you litter Steve’s face with more kisses than usual tonight, which only brightens his mood further. You’ve been more affectionate with him lately, holding his hand more often and pressing your lips wherever you can. It’s as if he’s found some key, unlocking all the love you’ve stored within you.

Steve isn’t an idiot, he knows there’s more to it, so do you. However, rather than acknowledge it, you both choose to simply bask in it. It’s not time yet, bringing this into the light. It’s delicate, still forming into something that Steve is sure will be incredible.

For now, he allows his lips to skim across your face while the kids aren’t looking. They’ve been dying to do this ever since he’s known you, and the giggle you let out is more than enough for him.

–

Spring turns to summer and before Steve knows it, he’s graduating.

He rolls over in bed and stares at the ceiling. The Harrington household is quiet. His parents have gone on yet another business trip, his father had scoffed when Steve had asked if they’d be back in time for his ceremony.

“Why should we attend if you’re not going to do anything with that diploma?”

“Right,” Steve had scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed that he had even thought to ask his father to come. “I’m sorry.”

His mother, who had been quiet as they spoke, only stepped forward once her husband had left the room. She brought a hand to his face and tentatively stroked his cheek with her finger. “I’m proud of you, my beautiful boy.”

Steve had smiled at her, knowing that she meant well and yet heartbroken that she couldn’t voice this in front of his father. She smiled sadly at him, as if she sensed what he had been thinking, before following after her husband. As she always does.

The doorbell rings, effectively breaking Steve out of his momentary self pity. He looks at his alarm clock and frowns. It’s early in the morning, he doesn’t know who could be at the door at such an hour.

Sighing, he gets out of bed and makes his way downstairs angry at the world. He’s tired of growing up, his parents suck, he’s almost definitely skipping his graduation ceremony, and now he has to get out of bed to go answer the door.

He opens the door and when he sees that it’s you, his mood drastically improves. You’re dressed in a pretty lavender sundress, a departure from your usual t-shirts and shorts that Steve has come to associate as your summer uniform. By the time he manages to take his eyes off of you, he realizes too late that you’re holding flowers and shoving your way into his home.

“Ready to graduate?” You ask, carefully setting the flowers down on his kitchen table. “You can’t skip it if I’m here, ya know.”

Steve groans. “How did you even know I was going to skip?”

“Because you’re predictable and I enjoy making you do what’s best for you.” You’ve grabbed his hand and are dragging him towards his room. “Now, go find something nice to wear while I put your flowers in a vase.”

“But–”

You don’t give Steve any time to argue as you’ve already left the room to go and take care of the flowers. He lets out another groan, he knows he can’t argue his way out of this one. You’ve dressed up for a graduation, bought Steve flowers, and now he has to put on some stupid outfit to make a smile cross your pretty little face.

He settles on a simple white button down shirt and a pair of nice dress pants, and you return to his room as he’s struggling with the buttons. When you see him, you laugh with affection and walk over to him. “Here, let me see.”

Steve lets you button his shirt, your breath is warm against his chest as your fingers quickly secure the buttons into the place. He admires the cute frown on your face as you concentrate, and he allows his hands to come up to yours and slots your fingers together. You’re taken aback by the sudden affection.

“What are you doing?” You ask, a familiar blush on your face from his touch. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this.

“Nonthin’.” Steve says, though he lets go of one of your hands and places it on the small of your back as he always does. He uses the hand to push you closer and the other hand remains intertwined with yours. He stares down at you, he’s close enough to count every eyelash that dots along your pretty eyes. “Just admiring you.”

“Is this some ploy to distract me from your graduation?” Though you try to tease him, you’re weak and let out a soft sigh when Steve pulls you even closer, feeling his body against yours. He’s allowed himself to become bolder with you, and as if to prove this, he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses your brow. You exhale with a shaky breath, your resolve dwindles. “Honey…”

Steve chuckles at your reaction, revels in it. He hopes to one day memorize all the ways he can make you sigh his name and shiver against him. For now, however, he pulls away and finishes getting dressed. “I know, I know. Graduation time.”

The perfectly aimed sandal that you throw at him is enough to solidify to Steve that he is, truly, happy.

–

Dustin is the first one Steve sees in the bleachers, then Mike, and then El, before he realizes that the entire party has managed to make it to his graduation ceremony.

“You invited them?” He turns to you, somehow surprised that you would do such a simple and lovely thing.

“Of course I did.” You kiss his cheek and quickly fix his hair as you adjust his graduation cap. You’ve been fretting over his appearance ever since you left his house, and he hates how giddy he feels whenever you dote on him. “Now, go find your seat and don’t trip on the stage!”

You’re gone in a flash, leaving Steve alone as you go and join the kids in the bleachers with all the other friends and family in attendance. The school’s gym is packed, everyone has someone there for them to see them walk across the stage, and though Steve’s actual family isn’t here, he has you and the kids in the stands cheering for him.

Steve decides, then, that you and the kids are his true family.

The ceremony is long and boring, and Steve spends the entire time sneaking glances at you.

You’re attentive, nodding along to all the boring speeches made by teachers and clapping for every student’s name that is called. He sees you breakup a fight between Mike and Max over something, he guesses it’s probably something dumb, and he laughs when you switch seats with Max in the end.

As he watches you, Steve feels what he felt the first day he ever spoke to you when you almost hit his car with your bike. When he’d gotten out of his car and found you laying in the ditch, he felt what he feels now: a slow, all encompassing wave of sunlight.

He felt it when he drove you home the following week and you’d told him he wasn’t a bad person, and he felt it again when you’d spared him kindness at Jonathan’s while fighting the Demogorgon. Then, in front of the hospital’s vending machine, the sunlight turned into a fireplace within his chest when you’d giggled and told him you were friends.

Since then, the fire has only burned deeper within Steve. It burned when he’d gifted you that poster, when he had spent every day at your job just to be near you. It had burned Steve when you’d left him that summer, the sting of it unbearable as it seared his skin. Then it had dimmed, abandoned, until you came back again and reignited it once more.

When you whispered confessions to Steve in the dark, he felt it then. When you sacrificed your life to save his, leaving a scar on your rib cage that Steve can feel whenever he hugs you, he felt it then as well. The fire was there when you leaned against him, accepted the help he has always tried to provide for you, when he gave you a piggyback ride back inside Jonathan’s and tucked you into bed.

It all comes back to Steve in flashes.

Your promise to him to wait, to stay even though he couldn’t give you what you deserved, what you needed. The gentleness of your promise and the framed photo of him and Dustin that now sits proudly on his bedside table. The surprise movie nights, how you call him “honey” and he calls you “angel”.

It’s always been there.

The warmth had started back before Steve even knew what warmth was, when he first saw you. He had been thirteen and you had been twelve.

Now, at almost seventeen and eighteen, you’re cheering for Steve’s name as it’s called upon the stage and he finally knows what this feeling is. Steve accepts his diploma and shakes hands with his principal and he swears he can hear your voice, screaming his name with pure joy, above everyone else’s; it’s as if his body is attuned to yours.

This, Steve knows, is love.

–

The school year ends and summer break begins.

There’s a new mall in Hawkins, one that’s big and flashy and opens just in time for summer vacation. Dustin spends entire days there with the party before he reluctantly leaves for Camp Know Where. You miss your brother dearly, but you know the camp is good for him.

When you find out that Jonathan and Nancy have become interns at the Hawkins Post, you scream and throw yourself into their arms, incredibly proud of them, yet you’re sad as well. You didn’t realize that you’d be spending your last summer before senior year apart from your best friend, though you know he’s always dreamed of showcasing his photography.

It’s bittersweet, but when Steve gets a job at the new mall, the free ice cream that you get makes up for it.

Plus, his uniform for Scoops Ahoy doesn’t hurt.

“You’re not allowed to laugh.” Steve threatens you, horribly self conscious with how short his shorts are. You made him promise to show you the uniform, but now he’s seriously regretting it as you bite your lip; he sees the laugh before it comes. “I mean it! No laughing, it’s already bad enough that I have to work–”

He’s cut off by your loud, smug laugh. It overtakes your entire body as you hunch over, gasping for breath as you wheeze out, “You look great!”

Steve hides behind the ice cream counter, absolutely mortified. Here he is, being laughed at by the girl he’s so fucking in love with, as he wears a stupid sailor hat and a god damn ascot.

In between your laughs, you see the despair on Steve’s face and you try to calm down. “Okay, I’m sorry,” you wipe tears from your eyes, still slightly giggling. “It’s just… You look so adorable in that uniform!”

Immediately Steve straightens his back and crosses his arms, trying to look more dignified. “One, never call a man adorable. That’s just offensive. Two, I will not get out from behind this counter until you stop giggling at me.”

“Who are we giggling at?” An unfamiliar girl now appears, wearing the exact same uniform that Steve is, and when she sees you standing in front of the teen, she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. “Henderson with Harrington?”

She knows your name, and you quickly wrack your head to try and figure out why she looks so familiar. At the very least, you know she has to be a grade below you, though you can’t quite place her, which you feel bad about. She looks kind.

“Yes, Henderson with Harrington.” You extend your hand out for the girl to shake. “I’m Y/N, though I guess you already knew that.”

“Robin Buckley,” she accepts your handshake, giving you an interested smile. She already seems to like you, which you’re relieved by.

Steve watches this interaction with pure dread. He had met Robin a few days ago during his interview for the job, and she’s made his life a living hell of torment and teasing ever since. Now, with you two meeting, he knows that you’ll only add onto Robin’s incredibly quick wit. “Oh, please don’t become friends.”

“Too late.” You wink at Robin. “Wanna check out this insanely large mall together?”

Robin gasps. “It’d be my pleasure.” She hops over the counter, completely bypassing the door that lets you out, and loops her arm through yours. “Later, dingus!”

“Bye, Steve!”

He stands there, defeated, as you and Robin giggle together while you leave. It only took thirty seconds before you abandoned him like some traitor. Sighing, he picks up a rag and starts wiping down the tables in the ice cream shop.

From the corner of his eye he can see you and Robin running around the mall. You’re giggling as you chase after the girl, your hair is tied in a loose ponytail and one of the straps on your overalls has slid down your arm. You look happy, bright and alive, far from the girl Steve remembers from last winter.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

Then, as if you can sense his eyes on you, you turn. Your eyes connect, your cheeks are flushed from running and you’re breathless as you smile at him. Steve returns your smile, winks, and he can almost hear your giggle.

You finally look away, going back to chasing after Robin as the two of you retreat further into the mall, and as your figure fades in the distance, there’s only one thing on Steve’s mind.

I can’t wait to make her mine.

-

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Red Light/Green Light

I personally, love a good angst to fluffy story.

Pairing: mcu Peter Parker X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: fights :( and mentions of sex if you squint.

Word count: 7.5K

You weren’t an anxious girlfriend by any means. 

Peter could do whatever he wanted when he wanted.

If he wanted to go get pizza with MJ you would encourage it. If he wanted to help out Inez in intro to darwinism because she was confused you would tell him to go for it. When he got Bailey's number to help her with some minor debate help you saw no issue with it. 

Until now.

Now you were asking yourself if you sent him into the arms of another girl. 

You hated that you noticed this, you were never like this before but Peter suddenly had a lot to talk about with Bailey. When you went out for dinner he started keeping his phone upside down, when you hung out he kept it near him at all times so when a text came through he could intercept it immediately. 

That was red flag number one. 

It didn’t come to a head until recently. Peter went to the bathroom during movie night and his phone went off once, you continued to look at the screen. His phone went off twice, you looked at his phone face down on the arm of the couch. His phone went off three times, you looked towards the phone and the bathroom door. When it went off for the fourth time you couldn’t help it. You never looked through his stuff before but what could Bailey need that it required four double texts? 

Holding your breath and looking towards the door again you lent over and picked up his phone. You sighed when you realized you were correct and looked at the stacked notifications from Bailey. You tapped on them to open them, you needed to put in his passcode. You typed it in but it vibrated, you did it again but it happened once more. You did it slower, pressing each number on their own. His phone locked, one minute before you could try again. 

He changed his passcode. 

Red flag number two. 

You tried to stay normal but the panic of him talking to a girl while changing his passcode didn’t leave much room for interpretation. When he came out of the bathroom he was wiping his hands on his pajama pants. He sat down and kissed your head, “You okay?” His question came when you pulled away from him, you crossed your arms and stared at the screen. 

“Baby?” He called when you ignored him. 

You hummed. If you spoke to him right now it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“You okay? You look like-” He started to make a joke, you cut him off. It wasn’t the time to be cute and funny. 

“Like my boyfriend has been texting a girl so much it made me insecure and when I tried to look at what was so important she needed to text you four times in a row I realized you changed your phone passcode?” You turned to look at him dead in the eye. 

“Do I look like that, Peter?” 

His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed with color. 

He looked guilty. 

“I, I, I…” He tried to start. 

“You, You, You.” You spat back. 

You stood and grabbed your water bottle and phone. 

“You need a better excuse. I’ll talk to you later.” 

You walked to the door and picked up your backpack. You had a hand on the door and waited. You waited for something, anything. You waited for Peter to speak, to call your name, to call you dumb for insinuatiting what you were, to beg you to stay, to talk about it. You waited for him to web your hand to the door, something. 

You opened the door and waited. You walked over the threshold and waited. You shut the door and waited. You walked down the stairs slowly, you stopped at the lobby entrance for a moment and waited. 

He never came. 

Red flag number three. 

If you were a cartoon character you would have steam coming from your ears. Your head would be red and swelling, it would pop with the pressure of heat and anger. If you could burn holes through someone right now it would be Peter. 

Because, when you tell your boyfriend someone he’s talking to makes you feel insecure and you even snap at him over it and leave his house you would think he would learn something. Not having her stand at his locker, talking back and forth. You watched with seething anger, he was talking about something insignificant, you could always tell when he was ranting on a topic. 

But Bailey, you never really watched her. And boy are you glad you tapped into that conversation. 

Bailey liked Peter. No. She loved Peter. 

You could see it written all over her face, her eyes were lit up at his movements, she was laughing when he wasn’t saying anything funny. She was curling a stand of hair around her finger, twisting her hips back and forth. But Peter, Peter didn't have a notice in the world she was looking at him like that. 

He was just moving things around from his backpack to his locker, he didn’t look at her once but she bored her eyes into his face like he was the world's greatest human. Peter could be deft at times, he was so smart but so dumb. He could recite the first fifty numbers of Pi but had no clue when a girl was into him. 

You slammed your locker and stomped over to him. 

The power that you felt the moment Peter’s gaze finally looked up and smiled at you walking to him. And the moment Bailey’s face dropped. You lent forward for a kiss and smiled when he pushed his head down to meet you, he pulled back but you pulled him back by the waist of his shirt for one more. 

“Looks like someone made up after the fight.” 

Your power was drained. You felt weightless and defeated. 

You looked at Peter and frowned. He almost wanted to cry, in the time you’ve been together he’s never seen a sadder face. 

“You told her?” Your words were built in betrayal. He wouldn’t talk to you but he talked to her? The reason you felt so shitty to begin with? 

“Yeah,” He looked at Bailey for a second, he licked his lips and thought of his next words carefully. 

“Yeah, I just needed a girl’s perspective.” 

You stepped back from him. 

“A girl's perspective?” 

You looked at Bailey, she had a half smirk but dropped it when Peter looked at her again. 

He nodded his head and gulped. Bailey said this would help but it was backfiring badly. He didn’t choose his words carefully enough. 

“You could’ve asked MJ or literally anyone else.” Your voice was monotone. 

“Well Bailey-” He started. He was defending her. Not you. 

Red flag number four. 

You cut him off and spoke loudly. You wanted the hall to hear this. 

“Bailey wants to fuck you. She’s trying to fuck this up.” You pointed between you and him. 

“And you’re letting her.” 

You stepped back ready to turn away to go to class. You looked at Bailey once more, her head was down and her cheeks were the color of a tomato, her whole body was flushed. You called her out in front of everyone. 

You looked back at Peter and pointed at her ashamed stance. 

“I don’t want to give you an ultimatum. I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but when you choose two girls you lose the one.” 

You shook your head at him in disappointment and turned for math class. 

—------------------------------------------------

Peter was always your partner in lab. Even though you didn’t sit together he made a deal with his seat partner that during lab he would work with you instead. He always looked forward to the block class, he got almost 2 hours with you and especially today he needed the time to talk to you, to try and fix this because god, you were pissed. 

But imagine his surprise when the teacher called for lab and you moved to his table but when his table partner went to stand you pushed his shoulder back down. 

“Thanks Tye, but today I’m going to work with Bailey.” 

You looked at Peter and turned to go back to your work station with Bailey. Her face froze in panic when you returned, you smiled at her. 

“Why aren’t you working with Peter?” She laughed to ease the tension. It didn’t work. 

“Because,” You sat next to her and twirled a strand of her hair around your finger. 

“I don't want to work with Peter today. I want to talk about Peter today. I thought you would love that, both of us chatting about the boy we love.” 

Peter gulped. You knew he could hear you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to focus right now. You knew he was in full blown panic mode. You knew he was a nervous pee-er. 

Bailey looked behind her at Peter but you caught her chin to bring her back to your face. 

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t like that I broke the routine.” You looked at her. 

“When he’s nervous he has to pee. It’s cute, on our first date he had to pee like seven times.” 

“He’s about to ask for a bathroom pass.” 

Peter’s hand raised, “Mrs. McClendon, can I go to the bathroom?” 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Told you.” 

You watched her take your words in silence. She was scared of you at the moment, it was cute. 

“Now, when he gets back, he is going to look at us. He’s going to wipe his hands on his pants and bite his lower lip. Then he’s going to sit down, he’s gonna tap his pencil on the desk and bounce his leg. Then he’s going to get up and look around and sharpen his pencil at the front of the class so he can get a better look at me to make sure I'm not tormenting you too much.” You smiled at her when you finished. 

Bailey wasn’t sure where you were going with this. 

When the class door opened you paused on writing down a chemistry question, the solution was the mixture you would be working on today. 

“Go ahead. Look at him.” You nodded towards the back of the class. Bailey kept her eyes on her paper, you elbowed her. 

“Really, watch him. I’m asking you too.” 

You watched as Bailey looked at you, then turned her head to your boyfriend. You continued to work, even sliding Bailey’s worksheet to you to finish the second half of the equation. Bailey watched Peter at your command, she watched as he wiped his hands and looked around the room chewing on his bottom lip. He looked around until he looked towards their table, his eyes on you. You bent over the table, you looked between the pages and started to mumble. He heard you mutter something along the lines of ‘if Peter was here how would he do this? Is it x squared? No he would say that not every problem would be solved with x squared.’ 

He moved his eyes to see Bailey looking at him, he hadn't even noticed she was staring at him. 

Peter moved to his seat with his head down. He started to tap the end of his pencil on the desk, then moved from biting his lip to shaking his leg. He looked at you once more, ignoring Bailey’s eyes. He looked at his pencil and pressed the lead to his desk watching it snap. He stood and walked to the front of the class to sharpen it again. He looked towards you and watched you struggle with the question, if you weren't mad at him you would have asked for help 3 times over by now. 

He blew a breath through his mouth, he had to at least check on you. He had to make sure you weren’t berating Bailey too bad. He slowly made his way towards you, if the teacher asked he was taking the long way back to his seat. He paused in front of your seat, he was ignoring Bailey right now. Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and talk to her right now. 

“How’s it going over here?” 

You looked up to Peter and smiled, you wrapped an arm around Bailey’s elbow and tugged her into your side. “Great! You know, I think we have some things in common.” You looked at her and watched her slow blink, you pushed your shoulder to hers, “Right?” She just nodded blankly. 

“That’s great.” Peter responded weakly, he moved to stand over your shoulder. 

“Need any help?” 

You straightened your back and felt him involuntarily move in, it was a habit. He was used to standing guard over you. 

“Yes, actually.” You pulled your arm from Bailey’s, and pointed to the sixth task. 

He hummed and moved forward, his hand moving over your shoulder to grab your pencil. He lent his mouth into the back of your head and placed a soft kiss. You knew it was an ‘I love you’ and grabbed his wrist in a silent ‘I love you too.’ 

“You know you can’t solve everything with x squared right?” You lent your head back into his chest and groaned. 

“I know but last lesson it was the answer to everything and it made me feel smart and now I need your help again.” You placed a kiss on his forearm. “Every time I feel caught up it changes.” 

Peter hummed and wrote the equation down for you, most times he helped you solve it. Sometimes you weren't in the mood for a whole lesson and he would just give you the answer. 

“I know, it’s such a drag to help you. I mean, you have to come over and I help you and then we get to watch movies and I get to kiss up on you. It’s actually terrible.” He kissed your forehead and pulled back. 

“You’re good to start now. You wanna come over tonight? We can do homework, or…” He trailed off and moved to your right ear, his whisper to you only, he didn’t want Bailey to hear, your reaction alone would make her shake. 

“Or, we can do something else. May isn’t home, she won’t be back til tomorrow evening. Whole place for us all night.” He mumbled into your ear and you pulled back with a gasp. You held a hand to your chest, “Peter Parker!” He hummed and smiled, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

Before he parted he pulled your head back by your chin, your face pulled backwards to look at him upside down. He had both his hands on the side of your face and smiled with his whole heart, he looked into your eyes and spoke honestly. 

“Hey. I love you.” He winked and went back to his seat. 

You started to pull the liquids to make the chemical reaction. 

“How accurate was I?” 

Bailey looked at you, and spoke softly. 

“Spot on.” 

“Know why I told you that?” She shook her head no. 

You smiled at her with pity, you knew she felt it. She looked down in shame, “Know why I asked you to look at him?” She looked at you again, “No.” 

“Because, You will never know him like I do. And he will never love you like he loves me.” 

Bailey was silent for the rest of lab. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Peter thought he had made it right. 

You talked to him in lab. You lent into his touch and he even gave you the answer off the bat. He even totally ignored Bailey and felt like a dick but he did it so you would know there was nothing to worry about. He loved you, he thought you knew that. He didn’t mean to make you so upset, he really didn’t mean to make you cry. 

In fact, if Peter really thought about it he can’t remember a time he’s made you cry like this. He made you cry because he made you feel beneath him. 

Peter thought when you came over tonight all would be solved. There would be no Bailey discussion, he figured he made his point when he ignored her existence in class today but apparently that wasn’t good enough. 

The way tonight went Peter wasn’t even sure he had a girlfriend anymore. 

Honestly he wasn’t too sure when it started. He wondered if you came over with the intention to fight or it just happened, maybe it was intentional because you didn’t even bring your backpack. You were in pajamas and had mascara under your eyes, he wondered if it was from crying or rubbing at your eyes from a long day. 

“Hi.” He greeted you at the door. 

“Hey.” That set him back some, you both always said the same thing. It was always hi, always. Peter felt like he was slipping, were you both on different pages? 

“Hey?” 

“Hello?” You questioned back. 

“Are we just running through formal greetings?” You moved to the kitchen to inspect his fridge. Peter always had the best snacks and drinks, and they were always different. It was the first thing you always checked, looking for the flavor of the week. 

“Hi. It’s always hi.” Peter felt nervous, his eyes shot to his bathroom door. 

You scanned the fridge and found the new soda flavor in front of you. 

“Oo, orange? May is going crazy. If she gets grape next time I won't leave until I finish all of them.” 

“Did you hear me?” He shifted his weight. 

“Huh? Oh, yes sorry. Hi, Peter.” Your voice was muffled when you poked your head back into the fridge. 

Peter frowned. It threw off his balance and it didn’t feel the same when he asked you to say it. He wanted you to do it naturally, not because he wanted it. 

“Babe, do you have any more cherry Coke? I kinda want one of those instead.” 

“Um, Maybe. I can look, I really have to pee though.” He nearly sprinted to the bathroom. 

When he opened the door he saw you standing right by it, he jumped a little and held his hand to his chest. He looked behind you to the kitchen and started to make his way to look for your cherry coke. 

He stopped when you put out an arm to block him from moving. 

“Am I making you nervous?” 

Peter looked around and looked back at you. 

“A little.” 

You raised your eyebrows. 

“Why?” 

“I think you're mad at me.” 

You paused and thought about it. You were a little upset still but not angry. 

“I don’t think I am. I’m a little upset but I don’t want to yell at you.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

You moved in for a hug and squeezed until he grunted. 

“Not mad.” 

“Then why didn’t you say hi?” 

“Hi.” You kissed where your head fell on his chest. You leaned up and kissed up his neck into his jaw, each kiss he was given an ‘Hi’.

“Okay, okay I get it!” He laughed and pushed you away from him. 

You followed him to the kitchen and watched him squat in front of the fridge, his head ducking to try and find a Coke for you, he knows you stashed one. You just forgot where you put it. He rooted around in the vegetable drawer and pulled the last one out. He held it to you and you gasped and held it to your chest. 

“My hero!” 

Peter stood and stretched, “If only every crime was that easy.” 

You yawned at his stretch and watched him copy. 

“I’m putting on my PJ’s. You pick the movie.” You gave him a ‘you sure?’ look. Peter always chose the movies, he said you had the worst taste in movies and you weren’t able to pick them anymore. When you binge TV he loves your choices, but movies were a failed task. 

“I’m positive. Be right back.” He answered your look, it made your heart swell when he did that. He knew you so well that one look could ask him a question. 

You cracked open the can and took a sip, you offered one to Peter. He took the can and took a mouthful that puffed his cheeks out. He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled, he turned to his room to change. You meant to walk to the couch to choose a movie, and you did. You even sat your soda and phone down but then the thought of Peter changing was so exciting you bailed and went to watch him. 

Except the excitement was blown the second you walked in. Peter wasn’t changing, he was sitting on his bed with his phone pulled to him with the charger in. He was fully clothed still, he went in with the intention of getting on his phone, not putting on pajamas. 

His fingers were moving fast, he was trying to write as quickly as the thoughts came to him. 

You knew who he was talking to. 

Red flag number 5. 

“What is wrong with you?” Your words were venomous. 

Peter’s head shot up and his eyes went wide. 

“You didn’t think I’d catch you? You’re so smart Peter, why are you being so dumb?” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“What does that mean?” 

“Why are you still talking to her? What is it about her?” You pointed at his phone in his hand. He locked it and placed it face down on the nightstand. Your breath caught, he still didn’t want you to see. 

You took a step back, and stared at his phone. 

“Peter, I think we should break up.” 

Peter stood from the bed. 

“What?” 

“I think we should break up.” 

“What?” He couldn’t conceptualize what you were saying. 

“I don’t like how you’re making me feel. I think I need to step back from this.” 

“Step back? No, no no no, you don't need to step back.” His hands started to shake. He didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t know how serious you were at school. You told him you’d dump him. 

“Then why are you still texting her?” You shouted the words, tears gathering. You were about to break down. 

“She’s a friend! You treated her like shit today and she wanted to make it right with me.” Peter sighed and felt tired, he didn’t feel like fighting right now. 

“I treated her like shit? She’s the one that is trying to ruin this!” 

“Really? Because you’re the one fighting with me.” 

The tears came down your face, you started to huff. 

“Why are you letting her do this?” 

Peter ran a hand over his face. He could fight guys all night long but fights with his girlfriend were daunting and exhausting. There was always too much emotion involved. 

“I’m just talking to her. As a friend. I’m your boyfriend, you won.” 

“Then why did you change your passcode!” You screamed the words, your breaths were short.

“And why do you hide your phone from me? And why are you lying about talking to her?” You were on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“I’m not! Morgan got my password and texted everyone in my recents I sucked. I changed it then, I swear! I’m not trying to hide it but you said you were insecure!” Peter tried to defend himself but just put his foot in his mouth.

“I'm insecure? You know I'm insecure about her and you’re still talking to her?” You wiped your tears and sniffled. 

“She just went through a bad break up! She said it was hurting debate so she needed help and she just started talking to me.” 

“She wants a rebound not a friend Peter!” You were hurt and frustrated. 

“Oh my God!” He shouted and pulled at his hair. 

“She knows you exist! She knows we're dating!.” He pointed between you two.  

“And she doesn’t care! You know she likes you, I know you do!” Your voice was rising again. 

“I didn’t know it until today, I swear. But she knows we’re dating and that nothing will happen! She told me today!” 

“And you told her about last night?” You shot at him.

“I needed to talk to someone!” He matched your tone. 

“But not your girlfriend? Really? You’re going to talk to the person that made me leave?” You slapped your hands on your thighs and sniffled. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out his window as you started to cry again. 

Peter sighed and looked at you, you were so upset you were trembling. He had really fucked this up, he was trying to save the relationship not make it worse. He stepped forward to grab you but you stepped back and looked at him. 

“Why her?” You sniffled and wiped away your tears before more were released. 

“I never get jealous. I let you talk to other girls all the time, I let you hang out with them and I don't get mad or question you. But this one, this one makes me upset. Why can’t you get that? It’s just one.” You spoke softly, your lip trembled with the sob that wanted to escape. You wanted nothing more than your boyfriend to hug you and tell you he would stop talking to her, but he didn’t. 

“I didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/N. I just thought she needed a friend. I just think you’re reading too much into it.” He spoke calmly but his words made you feel dumb, like this was a silly argument. 

Red flag number 6.

“I don’t like you right now Peter. I’ve told you how I feel about her twice now and each time you wave it off. It’s not about her anymore, she's just a girl from school. But you're my boyfriend, and you've made me feel belittled and downplayed and lower than you.” You moved towards the door, but kept facing him. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intention.” His response was robotic. 

You guffawed at him, his words were hollow. Did he not understand what was happening here? 

“You know what Peter? It feels like you're cheating on me.” Your words sent swords to his heart. 

“I’m not- I would never.” He moved towards you and grabbed your hands in his. 

“I’m not cheating on you. I wouldn’t do that, okay? I love you.” 

You pulled your hand from his and shook your head. The disappointment was written on your face, even he could see it. 

“If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me this way.” Your words were soft, the decision was made. You weren’t going to make your partner choose you. 

“What does that mean?” His voice was panicked. He didn’t mean for this to happen. 

You stayed silent. He knew what this meant. He was fucking this up, you were the love of his life and he’s about to let you walk out the door. He was letting you dump him. 

“Baby, what does that mean?” You turned your face and held your eyes shut as you cried. This was so hard. 

“Baby?” His voice was pleading. You cried harder at the word, it was yours. He gave you that name and you wore it like a badge. 

“Please.” His voice cracked. 

Peter had never cried in an argument, but this wasn’t an argument anymore. This was a breakup. 

“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this to me. I’m sorry, please don’t. Please.” He begged you. 

You shook your head, you had to stay strong. You had to prove you were worth more. 

“Baby, please. I’ll let you read the texts. I’ll block her number. Please. Anything.” 

You met his eyes, they were red and glistening. His nose was red, you remembered you told him his nose always went red when he cried. You called him your little rudolph. You just felt sad looking at him. 

“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and tears ran down his cheeks. His breaths were short, once the tears started he couldn’t stop. He brought his wrist to his eye and rubbed at it. He turned his back to you, his quick inhales left you wanting to run to him. You wanted to rub your hand down his back and help him breathe, you wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay but it wasn’t. You didn’t feel secure anymore. 

“Peter,” You looked at his front door, you needed to leave. You couldn’t watch him anymore, it was becoming unbearable. 

“Peter, I should go.” You nearly whispered the words, they were so hard to say. 

“Y/N.” He whimpered. You’ve never heard him like this. He was pleading with you, he needed you like water right now. 

“Peter, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You stared at his back. You realized you hadn’t kissed him tonight, you didn’t get a last kiss. 

You silently grabbed your phone and left. He didn’t say a word, part of you wanted him to fight harder for you. The other was glad he didn’t, he let you make this as easy as possible and you knew it killed him inside to do it. 

You loved him. You truly loved him with your whole heart. And if you were cruel you would tell him that, but instead you looked at him one last time. He was hunched over as his shoulders shook, he was holding in his cries for you. Your heart fell to the floor and you left it there as you passed over the threshold. 

Peter couldn’t sleep that night. 

He also couldn’t be Spider-Man that night. He couldn’t do anything that required him to get out of bed, he felt trapped the second you left. His mind was hollow, he was entirely empty inside. He kept replaying the fight in his mind, he was never good at fighting with you. He always said the wrong things and made it worse. That’s why he never tried to fight. 

He felt depleted and at a loss. He felt so fucking stupid too. He doesn’t know why he fought you so hard on it. It was one person that made you feel bad, but Peter, the one who wants to do nothing but love and protect you made it worse. He didn’t take your side, and that’s why you dumped him. He doesn’t blame you, he’d dump himself if he could. 

He told himself ‘That’s it!’ If he goes over to Bailey’s and talks to her he can solve everything with you. He just needed to friend dump her and everything goes back to normal. Satisfied with his plan he jumped out of bed and grabbed his wallet and phone barley locking the front door before speeding down the stairs. 

When he got to Bailey’s the plan was simple: Tell her girlfriend dumped you, tell her you can no longer be friends, get girlfriend back. Easy enough. 

But the second the first part came out she let out an “Thank God!” and sighed. 

“What?” Peter was puzzled. 

“Thank God! She was the absolute worst. I don’t know how you lasted that long with her. She is truly insufferable. She’s always talking about you and going on and on about how special she is to be with you. If I’m being honest she never deserved you.” She paused and took a sip from her straw. 

“You didn’t like her?” Peter was lost. Bailey had told him you were friends and she loved how cute you and him were together. 

Bailey laughed at his question. “God no, I was praying for her downfall.” 

“What? Why?” Peter couldn’t believe this. He was so blindsided, you were right. All she wanted was to get him to herself. And he let it happen. 

“She didn’t deserve you. I just said that, silly.” 

Bailey moved closer to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“But, if you’re feeling sad and needy I can make a good rebound. I need one myself, this works out perfectly.” She lent in to kiss him but Peter pushed her back. 

“Are you insane? You said you needed a friend. I was good to you, I believed you when you said you wanted nothing more than that. I fought with my girlfriend over you. I got dumped because of you and you want to have sex?” Peter stood and shook his head at her. 

“You’re not a good person. You rubbed off on me, I was a terrible boyfriend tonight. You don’t deserve me at all, and how you could insinuate that is beyond me. You are a shitty human who did a terrible thing.” He spat the words and turned to leave. 

“Oh yeah? Well you’re just as bad. You fell into my trap just as easy, you knew what I wanted. Even your girlfriend called me out and you still kept talking to me. You must not have loved her that much.” She shrugged her shoulders, this was nothing to her. 

Peter’s blood boiled with her words. You had told him those words just a few hours before and now Bailey was rubbing that in his face. Peter clenched his fists but couldn’t keep calm, he was so pissed at this girl that ruined his relationship he couldn’t keep a level head. He turned to walk to where she had stayed. Peter bent at the waist so his face was in hers directly, he wanted her to know the words he was about to share came from his heart. 

“You are vile. You are scum. You are a terrible shitty human with no remorse or moral standpoints. You prayed on pity and turned it into a fun game. You mean nothing to me, if you were on fire I wouldn’t even spit on you. I think you are the worst person I have ever met and I’ve met a lot of them.” His words were ice cold, he has never spoken such cruel things. 

“Wow. That hurts.” She blinked at him. 

“You know what Bailey? I hope you find love, I really do. And I hope it’s really good. The kind of once in a lifetime kind of love. The love where you know the other person like the back of your hand, there is nothing that they can hide from you, and you can’t hide it from them. I want you to have a love that gives you a reason to wake up in the morning, someone that makes you breathe better just by seeing them. A love where you can’t imagine one possible moment without them because no matter what it is they just make it so much better. I hope that for you, I really do.” Peter spoke sincerely and went to leave. 

“Do you really?” Her voice was soft. She always wanted a love like that, she dreamed of it. 

“Of course.” He had his hand on her doorknob and turned his head over his shoulder. 

“Then I hope you fuck it all up and lose it all.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him. 

Peter was banging on your window. 

You tried to ignore the taps at first, but then they were knocks. Then they were thumps of his palm against the window. You rolled your eyes, there was a reason it was shut and locked. You wanted to keep him out. 

His restlessness was unsettled, his bangs became faster until you huffed and threw the covers off you and ripping the curtains open. You stared at Peter on the other side of the glass, and waited. You weren’t going to say a word until he did. 

Peter looked at you wide eyed with an open mouth. He didn’t expect you to actually come to the window, he assumed he would have to break in. 

“What?” You barked the words at him. You didn’t want to break the silence first but he was taking too long. Peter cupped his hand around his ear and made a confused face. “What?” You repeated. He narrowed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his ears. 

“I know you can hear me Peter!” 

He stared blankly at you. 

You groaned and unlocked the window and threw it up. 

“Hi!” He smiled at you. 

“Hi.” 

His heart clenched. You still did it. Involuntary or not it counted. 

“What do you want?” You were quick to the point. 

“Oi! What happened to exes being friends?” 

You frowned at him. It’s too soon for him to be making these jokes, it hasn’t even been twelve hours. 

“Not funny yet?” He read your mind. 

“No.” 

“That’s okay. I’m still into my ex.” He shrugged and watched you roll your eyes. He didn’t miss the hint of a smile on your lips, he still has you. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I went to Bailey’s house.” He started but you were finished at that sentence. 

You stared at him and pushed the window down, he caught it at the bottom and pushed it up. You huffed and pushed it down, he kept his hand in place the window not budging against his grasp. You stood on your tiptoes and put all your weight into pushing it down but it stayed complacent. 

“This isn’t one you’ll win baby.” His tone was cocky, he liked seeing you flustered. 

“You can’t call me that I’m not your girlfriend.” You sat down at the window so you were equal height with Peter on the other side. You grabbed at this hand and tried to uncurl his fingers on the wood. 

“Oh you like rubbing that in.” He watched as you tried to get him to release his grip but you were failing. 

“Peter let go!” You reached your arm out to pull at his wrist. 

“No. I love you.” 

You pulled away and tucked your knees to your chest. You put your head down and started to cry, your shoulders shaking with each sob. Peter pulled the window open and let himself in, he sat down with you and wrapped his body around yours. You cried harder at his warmth, you turned around to press yourself into his neck. 

“Why’d you let me do that?” Your words were muffled in his shirt. 

“Because you had to.” He kissed your forehead and rested his head on yours. 

Green flag number 1.

“Can I continue?” You nodded your head against his. 

“I went to Bailey’s house. See, I had this great idea that if I told her what happened she would be empathetic and set it straight and then we would never talk again and me and you would get back together and the worst five hours of my life would be over. But something worse happened.” 

You sniffled and pushed him back with your hands on his chest. You looked over his face and neck, if he was here to tell you he hooked up with her you would lose it. 

“What happened Peter?” 

He sighed and looked down. “You were right.” 

“Huh?” 

“I know right? Here I go with my loud mouth saying you don’t understand, but it was me babe. I didn’t understand. You were right, you were so right.” 

“About what?” 

Peter leaned back on his arms, “She wanted to bone me babe. Like right out the gate, I went over there heart in my hands. No light or soul left in me, just grasping at straws. I tell her you just dumped me with a capital D, no remorse, just a straight kill shot.” He smiled when he made you laugh, you wiped at your nose with a sleeve of his hoodie. 

“And she goes, and I quote, “Thank, God.” and I obviously, in pure shock. Just double knifed right now, punches from every side. I say, “what?” because there is no way I heard that right and she says it again. Then she said she hated you, which she said you were friends all along, and that you didn’t deserve me. Then said I needed a rebound and so did she and this was actually a good thing if I think about it. Then she tried to actually bone me.” Peter concluded his rant. 

“What did you do?” You looked at him and hoped he did the right thing. 

“I barked at her.” 

You laughed and leaned forward to hit his arm, “No you didn’t.” 

“No I didn’t. I said some really, really mean things. Like, I defended your honor so hard she’s gonna form a crush on you instead.” He smiled at you, he wanted to ask if everything was okay now. 

Green flag number 2. 

“How mean?” You pushed him, you’ve never seen Peter mean. He must have wished her coffee was always too sweet or too bitter, never just right. That's the most vicious you could imagine Peter getting. 

He let out a puff of air. 

“Uh, something about being vile and being a shitty human and hoping she has the once in a lifetime kind of love you always dream of and she fucks it all up. Or something like that, I dunno it’s kinda blur.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked towards you. 

Green flag number 3.

You pulled your head back in impressment. 

“Wow. I’m lucky you spared my feelings when I totally crushed you after I slammed dumped you.” 

“Good one, babe.” He stuck his hand out for a fist bump. 

“You were totally heartless there. I mean I was crying like a baby and you stone cold just left. Now I know who the bad cop is gonna be when we have kids.” He poked fun and you turned your head at him. 

“We’re not getting back together, Peter.” 

Your words were ice. Peter felt frozen, he was sinking on the titanic. He figured it was okay now, you were talking like you were okay. Peter had a deer in headlights look and cleared his throat. 

“Um, yeah. Of course, I really fucked that one up. I just wanted you to have closure.” He gave you a tight lipped smile and went to stand so he could make his exit. 

You reached for his wrist and pulled him to keep him sitting. 

“No hard feelings?” You reached your hand out for a handshake. He started at your hand and shook it, he nodded at your words. “No hard feelings.” 

Green flag number 4. 

You let out a breath of fresh air. 

“Oh good. Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally hot and smart and totally my type. I mean you make me laugh even when I’m supposed to be mad at you and you always know how to fix our problems but I mean, I’m still hung up on my ex. It wouldn’t be fair to jump into a new relationship right now.” 

Peter nodded with your words. 

“I understand. I’m still not over my ex, she reminds me a lot like you. Beautiful, witty and just a dream stomper. I still love her actually.” He sighed and reminisced. 

“I still love mine too.” You looked at him and felt like giving him the best kiss of your life. 

“You know if we're both hurting from our ex’s we could just be each other's rebound. It works out perfect.” 

You leaned over and met him in a kiss. He made a surprised sound not expecting your move but grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. He opened his mouth into yours and deepened the kiss, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do this for a while. Not ever again though, he always knew he would win you back. You moved to straddle his waist, with your arms locked behind his head you pulled back from him and pecked his mouth. 

“I’m sorry I broke up with you.” You whispered into his mouth.

“It’s okay. I deserved it.” He matched your tone. 

Green flag number 5. 

“It was the worst five hours of my life. Let's never do that again.” 

Peter lent in to kiss you again, and again. 

“Deal.” 

“No really, it was traumatic.” 

Peter was kissing down your neck, he hummed and you pulled away with a shout. 

“Was it? I think I was more traumatized. The love of my life broke up with me like it was nothing. I was a mess.” 

“No, actually I had it worse. I mean you were begging me not to do it, I was the heartless monster that had to keep going and actually do it.” 

“I think you gave me trust issues.” He moved some hair behind your ear and you raised your eyebrows at him. 

“Oh I gave you trust issues?” Making sure to enunciate on the you. 

“Mhm. I see the error of my words.” 

You pressed your forehead against his and stilled. It was okay. Everything was okay. 

“Hey, Petey?” 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Green flag number 6.

[theoccultz]

How do they really see you ?

Req.

Minors dni (18+ mention's )

General reading, take what resonates , leave what doesn't

Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners

Thank you for all the reblogs , likes and comments i appreciate it 🖤

See ya at your pile !!

Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.

Pile 1 .

Queen of wands , 8ofpentacles, 4ofpentacles

Hyena

They see you as helpful and relient you will pass the opportunity if you feel like others need it more ,you guys are good at guiding others you may be a teacher or you're just that friend who is able to decode easily you can read faces like a book you guys look well put together you may know what suits you and what doesn't very well . They think you get a lot of attention although you look interested in what others have to say , your mind wonders somewhere else you may have r-b-f so its hard to read to read your expressions , you're professional in a sense . you look relaxed most of the time they may see you working a lot you always seem to be focused on something, they think others bother you ,people want to talk to you but they dont respect your boundaries and they kinda feel you get annoyed when someone is interrupting you in your day to day life , they thought you were arrogant when they first met you but they've gotten used to your rbf ,they understand it was them projecting.

They think you love food and you take care of your health, they think you have good hygiene, you may style your hair or they like your hair , you respect others space ,if you say No others wouldn't force you because there's this sternness in your voice , they think you're closed off though you may interact with others you kind of hate spending too much time with others , they love whatever language you can speak i'm picking up on an accent here , they think you have a graceful presence like say there's a meeting or a party you have dressed up exactly how the dress code expect you to be , they think you are a minimalist . You are not that person who sings like they own the party there's something very ethical and well mannered.You seem to do your own thing i dont think you need help in almost anything, you can figure out things for yourself this person seems to be impressed with your qualities or persona because they're somewhat like this too and they think its a rare quality to have . They think you're more head than heart /intellectual maybe ? They dont like to think of themselves as helpless and you exactly seem to replicate that , they think people are fake these days and would stab you without a second thought , this person is not like this they are loyal until they die , either you are this gossip bee just trying to be someone you're not LMAO this person has seen you turn down others it was satisfactory, there's a lot of gossip bess here hmmm , anyway they think you dont give a shit ☠️✋🏼 although its risky and you have to give in to social pressure but you just mind your own business even though you know about the disadvantages . Yeah

They think you shouldn't be disturbed for some reason , not like you're a wild person who'll start yelling at them but they just see you enjoying your presence and being relaxed?they dont think you get excited about a lot of things like you're very Sophisticated, you dont play games . I dont know if you speak to this person but this person is down bad for your voice ,for your vocabulary like what ...???they think you're kind of cutthroat that you can hurt them with your words if they mess with you ,thry think you have anger issues but they like it 😭a bad bitch with anger issues ? yes sir ....they may have seen you lash out and they think its for everyone's good you are silent fff this person was turned on .

They think you're very sweet & cute although no one would agree with them , they seem to look for you when you're not there like they randomly start to think about you , they kinda miss you when you're not around, this person unknowingly observes you i'm seeing a vision of someone working and the other person is like 👁️👄👁️ , this person is atrracted to your essence they're addicted to your mannerisms idk who is this ...could be a boss , a friend, but they really admire you , this person is a powerful person themselves, they share a good connections with others, they're more good at understanding & convincing others than you . They think how you're are a free thinker , you love to learn about things , you guys are great advice givers ,you guys are very open and direct to the point it intimidates them , you look youthful and dress creative you have energetic boundaries they wouldn't wanna touch , you guys carry individualistic quality,you dont get easily influence by societal norms , you're not gonna follow everything the world puts out , you use your own guidance.This is someone who has gained interest in you after a long time , you may knew each other or knew of each other but you didn't really care at first , i see even if this is a platonic connection the feelings are developing, this person finds you really beautiful physically and wants to be closer but they themselves is a little aloof and doent like to get attach to anyone ,they're everyone's friend but who is actually "their" friend? This person seems be a professional, they are mindful and careful unlike pile 3's person , this person do not wear this heart on their sleeve , they are over prorective of themselves, this person is still on that stage of getting to know you , like they think a LOTT.

Song : damn is this an ex?

Thanks for reading !!

Pile ll.

Ace of pentacles, king of swords , the high priestess

Black swan

They see you as someone who'll be victorious wherever you are , you have a likeable personality and a charming aura that really draws others to you, they love your company, they love your smile the most, they love your hair , your lips , your dressing sense , your piercings, they think you ALWAYS look fabulous, they think you're a breathe of fresh air ,you light up their world , they're very grateful to have you in their life , they love to talk to you and they really look forward too .They kind of put you on a pedestal, this person really see "you" the crazy you , the childish you , the sweet you, the angry you and they love everything version of you 😭they think people are really lucky to have you , they think you have a healing presence , they see you as someone that needs to be protected you're just so kind , generous and welcoming ...they feel jealous that your energy is put there , they love your personality they love to spend time with you or they want too , you could be an introvert and they are like an open book .

This person is telling me that they feel accepted in your presence , they love your music taste, you feel s if you're their lost missing piece , your interets ate very similar,they think their inner child really flourish in your presence, i'm getting this .....when i'm with them all of my worries are taken by god kinda vibe ....they think you keep your issues to yourself and that you need to release and let go they want to help you in the process of it , you have a positive effect pn people,they think there are some people in your life who troubles you and they fucking hate that, they think you are photogenic, they love your hair , they think you're really fun to be around, you bring a lot to the table , they wanna heal & grow with you even if you lose contact someday they'll remember you as if you're there to celebrate every best thing that happened in their life , this person kind of feel pressured to do more because they see you doing so much , they're insecure and sad about something and nobody knows it and there isn't a lot of thing's that gets them excited or bring joy but you do , you may travel together, study together, you may know their family, they could be your cousin , they could be someone you have a crush on .

If this is someone not platonic & the feelings are Mutual , you should find out and openly give them hints . They think their efforts are ignored sometimes like they're that friend who do the most and they get ignored, they want to ignore you but they cant , there are some thing they dont communicate because they dont want to ruin this relationship but they really dont like others interference in your connection ,they think you ignore them when you have others company

Alright k thats it (: looking back at your reading, they seem to be someone you have helped in some way and that's why they like you so much because that was something really heavy weigh-in them down ,you helped them unknowingly or knowingly , they also seem conglict free and likeable but they dont like a lot of people thats the issue .

Your song: i love when the song matches the vibe of the reading .

Thanks for reading!!

Pile lll.

Death, the devil , the world rx

Bee

Well what do i say , the cards speak for itself + i dont get any different vibe from the original interpretation of cards

Alright let's start this is about to be confusing......this person finds you attractive, they think about you obsessively and they dont want you to know , you're a though that cross their mind and stays there forever, this is someone who is sexually attracted to you or they admire your body , they kinda have wild assumptions so stick with me ,i'm not getting toxic vibe rather a really enamoured one ,they think you are more sexually experienced than them , they compare themselves to you a lot , they think you'd up for fwb without emotional connection, this person thinks of you as a mystery they want to know "Everything" about you , you intrigue them , wouldn't be surprised if they stalk you online , this person try to hide so much its Insane , they dont want to let you know that they are interested in you they feel as though you will avoid them or you will make fun of them ? They could annoy you on purpose, this person is a little annoyed themselves, they feel stuck and they want to take action , they cant just keep fantasizing about whats not real . They want to be friends with you .

This person wants to be involved in your life and be there for " you" , they think you guys are compatible although they are more sociable than you , I'm feeling surprised because they seem to be wayy invested than they think they would be , they would analyse your mood and wonder about it , they think you dont pay much attention to them like heck you dont even seem to know them that well even though you may have known them longer than they think , this person's energy is straight up hopeless i think this is someone who gets a lot of attention and praise , they seem to have it all , they could be in a authoritive position in life , like they could own libraries or they are the big sister /brother of the family or their friends rely on them for support, they have this natural ability to make others feel secure , they are helpful and sweet , they dont like drama and they are big on action and manifestations , they are also very stubborn and wants things their way , they could fit in to societal expectations but they feel as though they put up a front and pretend to be someone else , they get drained easily and they seem to like books especially mystery books , they like to have their own space they could own a bigg ass house as well , they seem to work a lot like they're damnn busyy in their life but they still like to check up on you its their daily routine, this person has had a lot of hope from the very beginning, they kind of accepted they liked you, this person is possesive asf , it ticks them off its their insecurity. How would you recognise this person? Others see them as a fun but a disciplined person , They are the well liked cool person in their community and they are intelligent with their words , they have attractive eyes and they wear lighter colours , they are their neighbours favourite, they also dont seem very fashionable, they stick to formals and basic . Yeah , this person also think you are imaginative and artistic and they want to like your interests so bad to connect deeper with you and to make themselves familiar , they could have water placements specially pisces , i feel like they may look tough and big but as a child ??? they were just everyone's little troublemaker but also a sweetheart awwww this is so cute . Their friend circle is influential tho , they are judgemental as well hmm interesting. This could be an online connection but it doesn't have to be , you guys just don't interact that much although both of you are intrigued, this person could have a controversial past lol ,its just something about their eyes they seem like a deep thinker although they may not look like one , this person reminds me of suga from bts , you know how he's so tough on the outside like he doesn't care but he's so aware & invested about his friendsdislikes & likes , he knows them better than they think he does

ahhhh anyways this was heavy .

Your song : see i told you

Thanks for reading!!

[feral-childs-word]

Blood

Fandom: DC

Yandere!batfamily x Male!reader

Description: Being a l/n has always been your thing but finding out your a fucking Wayne sucks especially how shitty and mentally ill your new family is.

Warning!: Angst, death, blood, neglect, curse words, made by a MINOR, not proof read, m/n going a little mental guys, anger issues (if you can call it ig)

A/n: I've reader neglected reader as a strong yet weak person getting easily manipulated and kidnapped with not that great with there mental health. But...what if we got reader who has anger issues but doesn't show them that often and is mentally not okay after the death of his mother? And on top of that being neglected only to be babied once being remembered.

Words: Who do you take me for? ��🗿

Welcome to blood series!- 1-Mother oh mother

Next ->

There was a once a time where you lived with your mother. Your oh so sweet mother the one who raised you from the slums of Gotham. The women with that soft smile everytime she enjoyed or saw something she liked. With those soft yet delicate hands that always helped you when you got injured from riding a bike or tripping on thin air.

As you grew older you noticed how tired she always was coming home from work with dark bags that clung to her soft pale like skin yet she always smiled. God how you wanted to help your mother that time but you were just 10 doing nothing but helping keep the run down apartment decent for when she comes home from work and going to elementary school trying to get good scores and good reports so your mother doesn't stress on anything and doing activities to get you by while your mother worked.

Yet here you are 16 and staring down at the stone which engraved your mother name and last name with the dates of her birth and death. The rain poured heavily down on you not caring about the umbrella. Your eyes didn't move and glance at the movements you heard behind you. You didn't flinch when a hand larger than your mother's hand gently placed on your shoulder.

Your fists dripped with blood for how hard you clenched how you wanted to slap the man's hand away. You hated being touched it made you sick it made you angry it wasn't your mother's soft touch no. It was some random stranger talking that you couldn't hear because your ears rung like when your tv goes static.

Why?

Why?

WHY?!

Why couldn't she stayed home that day? Why couldn't she waited until morning to get you that stupid cake for your birthday?

"It's your fault you know" The voice whispered it was agonizing hearing that awful voice that annoying child like voice. You wanted to bang your head on something, anything. You wanted to claw your brains out just so you could get rid of that voice.

"If you hadn't asked her for a cake she wouldn't have died that day." The voice giggles whispering it to your ear like a soft melody. Gods how that voice annoys you breaking you down bit by bit.

"ki-"

Who was that?

"k-"

Huh?

"Kid!" The sound of the man says making you snap out of your thoughts. Turning your gaze downward to the shorter man his glasses glimmered under the lightning that flashed his hands still on your shoulder. The umbrella covered both him and you under the heavy rain.

"There you are lost you there for a moment." The man chuckles softly putting his hand down though you didn't relax just stared at the man. "Ehem has I was saying we gotta take you to the station see if you have any family members that is willing to take you in." The man says which you now concluded it's a detective with his brown coat and hat.

You swallowed thickly your hands unclenching as you nod your head weakly to tired and worn out to fight or speak you just wanted sleep. The detective smiles and gestures to you to follow which you obey and follow the man but not without giving the grave where your mother was buried one last look and turned away going in the man's car.

Fuck being in a police station sucks.

The food is disgusting with now weird smelling the food it that they offer you. You rather eat the shitty school meals.

Your phone almost on low battery. The detectives ad Police officers refusing to drive you to get your things even your damn charger and they didn't have the charger you need.

This shit sucks the couches absolutely are uncomfortable they don't have enough fluffed cushions. Oh how you missed your bed and your cheek 5 dollar blanket your ma bought at 5 below when she got her paychecks.

Your leg bounced up and down looking up at the clock checking the time then down at the floor counting the different patterned carpet. Got how annoying that tucking of the clock sounded you just wanted to bash it until it stopped making that aggravating ticking noise. One more fucking hour enduring this shit your gonna loose it.

You leg bounced even more your hand tapping against your arm waiting for that damn door to open to have some news anything. Your head snapped to the sound of the door opening cringing at the small creaking sound it made. Your eyes landing on the same man that took you away from the graveyard and.....

No way....

This can't be happening...

Why is Bruce fucking Wayne here??

"Kid I want you to meet Bruce Wayne or should I say your father.."

SON OF A FUCKING BITCH

[lieslab]

Daddy issues

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Chan X gn reader

Summary: A simple phone call from your father and Chan's added anger makes you mentally crumble.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 7.3K

Trigger warning: Parental issues, (specifically daddy issues) emotional abuse and neglect, physical abuse, a bit of an unhealthy romantic relationship, anger, self-hatred, blood, self-harm, mentions and attempt of suicide via razor blade, and a panic attack.

A/N: Even without the request, I feel like this has been a long time coming. Please heed the trigger warnings. Please. Shout out to all the baddies out there with parental issues. Shout out to all the Chan stans with daddy issues. You're so strong, keep going, I believe in all of you <3

Requestee, I hope this leaves you satisfied. I don't think you ever said you were struggling, but just by this, it seems you are. I hope this helps you cope with whatever struggles you either have had or currently are facing in life.

I did change a few things around to fit the story more, but most of it's the same. I think I got everything you wanted in there, besides those few minor changes. I also experimented with time jumps which is new, but I think they were needed for this one. This is a long one, so buckle up and please enjoy!! <3

_ _ _

The words are thrown around without much thought. Daddy issues this and mommy issues that. People wear them like a badge of honor. Always seeking out other people that can fill the gaps that their parents left behind. Searching for temporary band-aids to cover wounds that need stitches to heal. 

Everyone wants to be perfect. Nobody wants to admit that the people who were supposed to love them the most fucked them up the worst. Nobody ever wants to admit that their nurture was ripped away before they ever got it. Cruelty swaddled them instead of sweetness. Neglect and despair instead of encouragement and understanding. Some people were doomed from the start. 

At twenty-two years old, you understood that your daddy issues were a noose around your neck, they were always there. A poking twine that pressed against your windpipe and jugular. All it took was a few words and the noose tightened. It was suffocating, it was restricting, and it was paralyzing. 

There was a devil and an angel on each shoulder. One was angry and smoldering. Smoke bellowed out of its ears and it was always ready to snap. The other was an angel, sweet and soft-spoken, constantly reassuring you that you had it better than most. Of course you did because, at least, you had a dad, right? 

Any dysfunctional relationship could cause a rocky conscience. You swore you were doomed from the start. You’d never fall in love. Nobody would be able to care about you in the way you wanted them to. At least, it was like that until Bang Chan. 

When Chan came into your life, you fell hard. You didn’t get a chance to stand before your knees were jerked out beneath you. He was strong, he was charming, he was dominating, and he was everything you wanted him to be. 

Being older meant he had more wisdom and more life experience. He was soaked with the knowledge that you craved. He understood you, he got you, and heading towards his later twenties, he was hesitant when you showed up. While you turned twenty-five, he’d be thirty. 

You didn’t let that stop you from wowing him. From caring about him with every fiber of your being, you would have given up everything to appease him and more. Hell, if he experienced organ failure, you’d cut yourself open without a second thought and rip it from your insides with a smile on your face. You were down bad, but your issues were still there. 

You were aware of them when you seeked out his validation. When you kept asking if he was sure he still loved you. You couldn’t shake everything that your father had ingrained in you, but you were still so desperate to fill that void. 

Some would say it’s weird, but you would say that you needed him to survive. You needed him. He was the air in your lungs and the familiar thump of your heart. You needed him as much as plants needed the sun. Like the Earth needed the moon and like bees needed pollen. You called it destiny whereas a few of your family members called it desperation, but they didn’t understand it. They just…didn’t get it. They had no idea what you had been through. They didn’t understand the gaping wounds that had yet to be stapled, but Chan got it instantly. 

He realized it after you swayed the conversation in another direction at the mention of your family. He knew it when fathers were brought up and the hurt flashed across your eyes. He knew it when you clung to him like a koala with fear and asked for clarification on his thoughts about you. 

You were damaged and he knew that. He didn’t mind because everyone had their issues and besides, at the end of the day, he still loved you as you were. He was thrilled to wrap his arms around you when you curled around him and point out everything he loves about you. 

From the squish of your soft cheeks, the curve of your nose, the shade of your eyes, and the way you dress, he loved it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly, he gave the relationship his all; you both did. No matter how much the guys joked that he was a silver fox, he always rolled his eyes and shook off their comments. They were just joking and he knew that deep down, the guys cared about you too. 

He knew a lot about you, but he didn’t realize just how much these issues bothered you. He didn’t realize that you were nearly suffocating yourself. Out of all the things he knew, he had no idea how much you silently suffered until you snapped. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The day started a lot like any other day. You went to work and by the time you finished, you found a text message from Chan announcing that he’d be at the studio later tonight. It was one of those days where the creative juices were overflowing and he wanted to get everything worked out before he forgot. 

You didn’t mind it and started to head home, but then you thought about the dimpled smile and sparkly eyes of Chan. God, you were utterly smitten. With a quick change of direction, you found yourself heading towards the JYP studio instead of your apartment. 

Give or take twenty minutes and you were walking into your second home. The JYP building truly has become your home away from home. You came here a lot to support Chan and the guys. It was strange having an extra person along, but eventually, they grew used to your antics. 

The guys accepted you with open arms and when you came around, they got excited. Sometimes you brought presents, like cookies. Other times, just your brief distraction sidetracked them from their ongoing issues. That temporary change of direction helped them sort out their issues quicker. 

You checked in at the front desk and pulled on your guest badge. It was a new system that the company had been doing after a sasaeng had managed to gain access to the building. If you were found roaming the halls without a pass or a security badge, you were instantly booted unless you could properly explain yourself. 

You tugged the lanyard over your head and practically skipped to the studio room. Upon knocking, the door opened to reveal Changbin. A grin pressed his cheeks up into points. “Hi!” 

“Hey,” you returned the smile, “is Ch-” 

He jerked the door open wider to reveal Chan in the background. Chan was directing whoever was in the booth. You picked up Felix’s deep voice in the background. Chan was sitting in a hoodie and a pair of navy blue basketball shorts. He bobbed his head along to the voice. 

“You can come in, just try to keep it down because we’re rec-” 

“You’ve got it.” 

He opened the wooden door wider and you stepped inside. In the booth, headphones were over Felix’s ears. His messy blonde hair had been pushed around by the band connecting the ear covers. 

His eyes focused on the lyrics as he sang. You slung your bag to the side and smiled as you saw Jeongin sitting on the opposite side of the couch. The two of you exchanged a wave and you quietly came to sit beside him on the opposite side. 

Changbin snuck back into the chair beside Chan and Felix continued to sing. After a few more seconds, Felix’s voice cracked and he stopped singing. “Fuck!” He cried out. 

“I don’t ever recall that being part of the song,” Jeongin mumbled. 

“Yeah, what Innie said,” Changbin agreed. 

Chan stopped the recording with a sigh. He pressed a button, so Felix could hear him in the booth. “Felix, is something wrong today? This is the fourth time your voice has cracked. Do you need us to change the lyrics or-” 

“No! No! No! Of course, I don’t need you to change the lyrics! It’s just the pitch of the song. It’s so high and I’m really trying my best here, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it or not and oh-” His eyes brightened when he saw you. “When did you get here?” 

Chan shifted in his seat and blinked when he saw you behind him. You smiled softly at him. “Hi, baby.” 

“What are you doing here? I told you that I’d be home late.” 

“I know, but I just wanted to see you.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“I’m fully aware. I have no intention of stopping you from working. I’ll sit here silently without a peep. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

“Yeah, right,” he mumbled beneath his breath. 

Felix and Changbin both shot him a glare. Changbin’s fingers jabbed into Chan’s side. Chan was worked up and stressed because Felix wasn’t getting this part of the song. It wasn’t just Felix that had struggled, everyone was struggling. 

Chan had created the instrumentals of this song and thought it’d be a home run, but he hadn’t considered how much the pitch would be a struggle for some of the guys. He was frustrated because if they couldn’t reach the right note, the song would have to be scrapped and he was distracted by other songs he wanted to work on. 

Seungmin’s silky and strong vocals weren’t the same as Felix’s deeper tone. Han’s wide range of vocals wasn’t the exact same as what Minho was comfortable with. Songs could be challenging and this seemed to be the biggest challenge yet.

Luckily for you, you hadn’t heard Chan’s mumble because your phone vibrated in your hands. You swiped the screen before thinking and held the phone up to your ear. “Hello?” 

When Chan rolled his eyes, Changbin slapped him in the back of the head. “What is your issue today?” He whispered. “Knock it off and stop being an asshole.” 

“We’re busy and-” 

“So tell them to leave and don’t be an asshole about it.” 

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have a significant other always up your ass.” 

“You're the world’s biggest asshole right now and unless you want to lose them, I’d drop the attitude. Just because you’re frustrated, it doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk. Use your words, you’re supposed to be the oldest in the room, so act like it.” 

“Oh, so you’re finally picking up the phone this time?” 

Your father’s voice in your ear caused your heart to sink to your stomach. The blood in your veins turned to ice. You shut your eyes before responding. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been busy recently and I-” 

“Busy my ass. You can text your mother, but not me? I was the one who created you and you still can’t be grateful for that. Without me, you’d be nothing.” 

“I’ve been texting the family group chat and I-” 

“You know damn well that I don’t give a shit about no family group chat!” 

You winced and pushed yourself up. Jeongin stared at you with a raised eyebrow. When you noticed, you flashed him a smile and held up a finger to let him know that you’d only be a minute. Before anyone could say anything, you disappeared outside the room and into the empty hallway. 

“What do you want?” 

“Is it a crime to want to know how my child is doing?” 

Your stomach twisted into thoughts as your father scoffed. A frown appeared on your face and, even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s difficult to find time to talk when we’re on different time zones and-” 

“Bullshit! You’re an ungrateful piece of shit! I gave you this goddamn life and you can’t even come visit! I have to find out from Google that you’re dating an idol! What have you told him? Why won’t he come visit?” 

“Nothing!” Your voice squeaked in shock. “I haven’t told him anything, he’s just so busy. He’s in a band and we-” 

“Then bring him down here, so your mother and I can meet him! What happened to respecting your parents? I didn’t even give you permission to date him!” 

As his voice raised louder, you tugged the phone away from your ear. A lump began to form in your throat as curse words were thrown your way. You shut your eyes and waited for him to calm down. Your hands were shaking as you mumbled into the phone. 

“I think I’m losing reception, I’ll call you back in a while.” 

“Don’t you fucking hang up on m-” 

The click ended his words before he got out the sentence. All at once, the weight of everything fell on top of you. Insult after insult wormed deeper and deeper into your brain. You wanted, you needed, to speak to Chan. You weren’t strong enough to deal with this on your own yet. 

You shoved your phone into the back pocket of your jeans and pushed the door open. Felix was singing again and your fingers curled into your palms. “Chan?” Your voice came out hoarse. “Can we talk for a moment?” 

The sound of your voice caused Jeongin to look up with a face full of worry. Even Changbin glanced behind his shoulder to check on you. When Felix caught Changbin’s head turning, he looked up to find you rapidly blinking back tears. His singing stopped and Chan’s fist flew into the desk. 

The rattling of the desk shook your soul. It started everyone, but you the most. Suddenly, you were five years old again in the back of your father’s van. You were weak and vulnerable. Defenseless, there was nothing you could do as your father’s wrath expanded along the four locked doors. 

You sucked it in and you couldn’t breathe. Your heart hammered in your chest, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do. You were five and yet the anger of a thousand angry men was cast at you. 

It vibrated the marrow in your bones. The strands of your heart strings curled inward. Your childlike curiosity shattered in the backseat. Stay quiet, don’t utter a word, just take the yelling. Like a deer in headlights, you were trapped. 

It funneled down your throat and created a lump. Crocodile tears appeared in your eyes. You sniffled and your bottom lip shook, you were alone once more. Alone in the thunder and anguish; the swirl of one man’s anger. 

A flower in the middle of a tornado. Thrown, chucked, depetaled. Ripped from the stem and crushed between the winds. At the end, you were ripped to shreds and utterly defeated. Not even the thorns of your own stem could save you. 

“Goddammit! Why can’t you just go home? I’m trying to work here and you’re ruining it! I don’t have time for you right now! Go home and I’ll deal with your bullshit later. This is my career we’re talking about!” 

The song’s soft instrumentals faded in the background as the song ended. You couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down your cheeks. It stung more than you ever would have imagined. The words were a sharp sting to your cheek. The noose of daddy issues choked you again and you couldn’t breathe. 

“See you later,” you mumbled as you tipped your head down and rushed towards the door. You pawed at your tears and rushed into the hall and down the corridor to head home. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Changbin snapped. 

“We’re working!” 

“And they were crying! If you would have taken five seconds to look behind you, you would have-” 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me! It’s bullshit! I probably hurt their feelings. Whatever. We have work to do. I’ll apologize later.” 

While the two bickered, Jeongin stepped up and disappeared out the door to try and find you. Whatever you were struggling with, it hadn’t been good. Chan’s outburst had only made it worse and he knew that. He saw the terror in your eyes when the other person responded on the opposite end of the phone.

Felix looked from Chan’s angry face to Changbin’s scowl. When he caught Jeongin rushing out the door after you, his confusion only grew. “What’s happening?” He asked into the microphone. 

Chan slammed his hand down on the button, so Felix could hear him. “Don’t worry about it. Get out of the booth, we’re going to take five.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

As you walked home in the whipping wind, your hair tangled around your head. It blocked your vision and the gray skies added to your warped reality. It felt like everyone and everything was against you. 

That was the one fatal flaw with humans. When we enter a dark mindset, it’s the only thing we think about. The only thing we feel is the harsh and back-breaking weight of the world on our shoulders. The clouds close in and all feels lost as the rain pours down. 

You walked quickly with your head down. Keeping to the sidewalks, you were nearly running. You were moving so fast that by the time Jeongin made his way outside the studio, you were already halfway down the road. He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to frighten you. He kept his pace brisk, but he didn’t run. 

He loved Chan for a wide variety of reasons, but he couldn’t believe he had just snapped at you like that. Of course, Chan was angry when he was mad, but this wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. 

You sniffled and kept rushing as the wind cupped your ears. You were hollow on the inside. That faint flicker of light inside you had been kept going by Chan. It wasn’t the best idea to depend on one person to make you happy, but you didn’t know what else to do. 

Your biggest fear has finally come true, everyone hates you. Maybe not to your face, but you can feel it. The bitter hatred that’s so vitriol, it’s rancid. A hatred that’s thicker than oil and stickier than jam. 

You were looking at assumptions, not facts, but your brain was set in stone. No one would be able to save you now. You had fallen far from grace. Your issues had poisoned you from the start. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t meant for any of this life. 

Perhaps, you would take a chance and try again in the next. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Jeongin knocked, you didn’t respond. He shoved the hair out of his face and tried again. When you didn’t respond to the softer knocks, he knocked harder. When you didn’t respond to that, he held his breath and turned the knob to your apartment. 

Breaking and entering wasn’t something he would have liked to go to jail for, but could you blame him? He knew you were hurting and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone and sobbing. 

Chan’s words to you had been far too cruel. Sure he was angry, but anyone in the right state of mind would have realized that something was terribly wrong with you. It was a gut feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. 

His brain was screaming at him to leave as he silently ventured further into the apartment. One step into the hall and then another. He didn’t bother with the common courtesy of kicking off his shoes. 

The place smelled like sweet citrus. It was a familiar scent that had belonged to you since he had known you. Once upon a time, Chan marveled at how much you adored citrus. If only he would have been here now. 

The carpeted hall felt too silent. The living room was too empty as he stepped out into it. Bookshelves filled with books, a coffee table with the TV remote, photographs of Chan and the rest of the band on the back wall. Your friends were your everything and so was Chan. 

Where were the photos of your family, he wondered. It was such a simple thought, but it flew by just as quick. Your presence was here, but yet you weren’t. Where were you at? 

He softly called your name and stepped by the coffee table. The bar table in the kitchen had been left abandoned. The hum of the fridge caused his heart to strum faster. There was an eeriness that he just couldn’t shake. 

Every fiber of his being was wound up. Loose floorboards creaked beneath his feet. He was sure that he had seen you enter your apartment. From a distance, he watched your figure fumble for house keys and stumble inside. Your hands brushed past your face and he was positive you were wiping away the tears that kept blurring your vision. 

He called your name a little louder, but there was no response. His mouth dipped into a frown and he uttered your name again when a faint whimper caught him off guard. His spine stood erected as he waited for another sound, but it never came. 

As he approached the room it came from, he was prepared for sobs. He was prepared for tears. He was prepared for the anguish that came with it, but he wasn’t expecting the bright red that began to seep beneath the bathroom door. 

His heart stopped and for a brief moment, he couldn’t breathe. Nothing made sense. The circuit of his brain had stumbled across a trip. Something cut out and his brain whirled trying to reboot. 

A scream ripped from his lungs as he rushed towards the bathroom and there you were. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even care or notice that he was there. 

Full of self-hatred, you were cutting, no. You were sawing it out of you bit by bit. They don’t tell you that when you hate yourself, there is no pain in self-harm. It’s a dangerous sweet release. The stinging and burning sensation fills you with a sense of euphoric triumph. Self-mutilation feels like bliss and the cold blade in your hand feels like a friend. In some twisted way, it can be the best thing you ever feel. 

There was blood everywhere. It dripped from the slices in your wrist. It saturated your clothes and it was all over the bathroom floor. Maybe you tripped and fell. Maybe you were set on killing yourself. Maybe you just snapped. 

Human skin is so thin that it can easily be penetrated by a single piece of paper. So small, so little, and yet the fiery ache of pain is felt everywhere all at once. You couldn’t feel the fire in your arm. Gone into shock, your body had blocked you from feeling anything. 

You weren’t even aware of Jeongin’s presence until he grabbed your arm. Your bloodshot eyes were watery as they met his concerned russet ones. “Please, stop,” he whispered. 

With a snarl, you jerked your arm away from him. You started to scream and lash out. He grabbed your hand and pinned you down again. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yelled. 

“Please, please, please stop.” His voice wavered. He was terrified for you and he didn’t want to make it worse. He knew how much Chan’s yelling earlier upset you. He didn’t want to trigger you further. 

“Leave me alone!” Your shrill voice cracked from desperation. “Get off! Let go!” 

“No!” 

You swiped the blade down with your hand, nearly cutting him in the process. Your head bucked as you tried to free yourself. He ducked his head with a yelp. 

He shoved your bleeding body back onto the floor. Your free hand flew up, in an attempt to stop yourself, but it didn’t work. Your brain rattled around your skull as you were blinded by the sudden pain of it all. 

Jeongin panicked as he desperately used the code word to activate the voice command on his phone. When you heard “call Bang Chan,” you lost it even more. 

“Stop it!” He begged as you squirmed again. Your hands flailed and you yelled back. 

Back and forth back and forth, you refused to let go of the blade. You gripped it so hard that you didn’t care that the sharpened blade cut into your opposite palm. You were fighting tooth and nail to keep a tight grip on it. You weren’t going to let go. Not even Jeongin, one of your closest friends, could save you from the demons in your head. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

In the studio, Chan was ready to slam his head into the wall himself. Changbin was non-stop lecturing him and once Felix found out, Felix was also up his ass. Nobody seemed to understand that they had a job to do. 

When his phone rang, he used it as an excuse to leave the pair angrily grumbling to themselves. He stepped out the studio door, just as you had. He let out a sigh before he swiped and answered the call. “What do you want, Innie?” 

A thump responded along with a yell. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I.N? What are you-” 

“Put it down! Put the blade down! Stop it!” 

His heart suddenly turned to ice. “I.N?” He whispered. “What is hap-” The response that you gave nearly dropped him to his knees. 

“No one cares! Just let me die!” 

He suddenly felt like he was about to projectile vomit. His stomach churned and twisted and the world felt a little blurry. “What is happening?” He raised his voice and began to yell at the phone. “Jeongin?” 

“Alexa, speaker phone!” Jeongin cried out. “Chan, I can’t stop them! Please! I need you! I don’t know what to do! They won’t stop hurting themselves!” 

The world stopped tilting on its axis. The seconds froze in time. His breath caught in the echo-chamber of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. Tears pricked in his eyes and he suddenly rushed down the hall. 

“Don’t let them die! Do you hear me, Innie? Don’t let them die!” 

He flew out of the JYP building like a bat out of hell. He clutched his phone, now on its own speaker phone. This path that he used to practically skip after work because he was so excited to see you. Now it could potentially be the path to your corpse. 

“Fuck!” He cried out as the struggle continued on the other end of the phone. 

“C-Chan?” You croaked weakly. “I don’t wanna do it anymore. I-I can’t.” 

Guilt swallowed him whole. He could barely breathe as he ran. “Baby? Baby, can you hear me? It’s okay. I need you to listen to me. Can you do that?” 

“You hate me.” 

“I could never hate you. I took it out on you earlier and I’m sorry.” His head jerked as he made sure he was pursuing the correct street. His footsteps thudded on the pavement. 

“Listen to me, I need you to drop the blade. Can you do that to me? Listen to Innie and drop the blade. I’m coming, okay? I’m nearly there, just listen to my voice.” 

To Jeongin’s relief and Chan’s surprise, there was a soft clatter as you released the blade from your hand. You were exhausted after fighting with Jeongin and the blood was starting to become tacky against your skin. 

You hated the murky feeling that it left behind. Every movement of your wounded palm oozed more blood. Jeongin panted over your body. Your arms were pinned to your sides as he straddled you. 

His own body was painted in your blood. Bright red handprints smeared across his white shirt. His light pair of blue jeans seeped it up like a sponge. There were even fingerprints staining his cheek from where you had swiped your hand at him. 

“I’m almost there, I’m coming to the house right now. Where are you? What room?” 

“Bathroom!” 

Chan burst through the door and into the bathroom. His heart dropped when he found you pinned and nearly half unconscious. Blood was all over the floor. It was smeared against the bathroom cabinets and the tub. 

Jeongin never took his eyes off you. He was too afraid that you’d find the blade again and do something worse. Chan ended the call and stepped over the puddle of blood leading into the bathroom. 

He softly called your name and stepped beside you. Your eyes weakly met his. He felt like he was going to burst into tears. His knees buckled and he sank down beside you. He didn’t waste time grabbing a wet rag and shifting beside Jeongin. 

“Innie, I’ve got it from here, go call an ambulance.” 

Jeongin hesitated, but finally nodded and stepped out of the bathroom. Before he left, he kicked off his shoes, so he didn’t trample blood into the rest of the house. 

The realization of your situation sent shocks of electricity buzzing through your skull. “Fuck,” you muttered. Tears began to build up in your eyes and they trickled down your face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-” 

“Shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to save your strength, okay?” 

“I didn’t mean to,” your voice came out shrill. 

“I know, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

The lining of your lungs seemed to thicken as you struggled to breathe in. You squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like breathing through a straw. Your brain had expanded with every wrong thought and now you were suffering. 

“Baby?” Chan whispered. He leaned forward closer to you and placed his hand over the razor blade, so you couldn’t see it. “What happened? What’s going on?” 

“Can’t breathe.” 

“Panic attack?” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“M-my dad,” your voice wavered. “I can’t-” 

“You don’t have to talk.” 

“Not a good relationship.” 

“Is that who called you earlier?” His eyebrows furrowed with worry. “I assumed, but I didn’t know for sure.” He reached down and pushed a bit of hair from your face. 

“He’s not good. H-he yells a-and-” You hiccuped, “abusive.” 

“Oh, honey…I didn’t know. I-I was just so frustrated earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean to upset you and I-” 

“I don’t feel good,” your eyes drooped further. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that. Baby? Baby, listen to me!” Not caring about the blood, Chan cupped your face. “Don’t you dare give up! Stay with me!” 

The last thing you heard were his desperate pleas as your eyes rolled back into your head. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When you finally came back home from the hospital, Chan forbade you from going to your apartment alone. Instead, he was nice enough to open up his dorm for you to use temporarily. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it was a manageable one for now. 

Ever since you regained consciousness, everything had been so foggy, but you remembered bits and pieces. You remembered the wine colored blood and the fear on Jeongin’s face. You remember being unable to breathe and the desperation of Chan’s voice. 

Maybe some part of you was glad that you couldn’t remember the entire thing. You weren’t sure that you wanted to remember traumatizing your boyfriend and your friend, at least, not the specific details. 

Your hospital stay had ended up turning into a week-long stay. It turns out the hospitals don’t play when it comes to suicide attempts. You didn’t even try to deny it. There was a tender hurt inside of you that you had no clue how to fix. 

It was a surprise when things that the mandated therapists were saying made sense. Sure, you knew things were wrong, but to hear validation from people, it made you feel a tiny bit better. 

When you left, you promised to come back. There were parts of you that really did want to heal from all of this. You never wanted to put anyone through this ever again. When clarity came through at the hospital, you realized you didn’t really want to die, you just wanted the self-hatred festered inside your being to stop. 

You wanted the negative energy to cease and you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be healed in ways you didn’t know how to heal. You wanted a lot of things and the therapists had promised that if you came back, they could start to help you turn things around, but you had to consciously make that decision. 

You yourself had to focus on your own healing. It was hard and it was difficult. Healing is one of the hardest things a person can do for themselves, but it can be so rewarding. You don’t have to let your demons win. 

“Fight back. Raise hell. Don’t let them win.” It was something another patient had said during a mandated group therapy. “I’m tired of letting the negative thoughts in my brain win. I want to live. I don’t want to just survive, I want to live.” 

The more the people talked, the more you realized that you had some of what they were missing. Sure, your parents weren’t the best, but you had friends. You had a significant other. You had little things that some people craved. 

For most of your time spent at the hospital, you were lost in your thoughts. You had barely uttered a few words to Chan. When Jeongin came in, you nearly collapsed into tears apologizing over and over again for scaring him. 

He insisted it was fine, but you knew it wasn’t. Nothing you could do could ever take back the damage that you had given him. The nightmares, the trauma, it’d be something he might have to live with forever. Sure, it’d fade, but for now, it stuck to the back of his head like glue. 

“So…” Chan’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The two of you were standing in the dorm living room. He had sent the rest of the guys over to the other dorm, so you could settle in. “Welcome to your new temporary home.” 

This place really was your home. You had been here time after time again. These walls just might have known you better than your own apartment did. You glanced around and nodded. “Thank you.” 

“I cleared out my room, so you can have it.” 

“We’re not sharing?” 

“I didn’t think you’d want to.” 

Your hands tugged at the sleeves of your long sleeve shirt. Your fingers curled into them. The damage to your arm was so bad that doctors had a hard time fixing all the damage. They had also been concerned about infection since the wounds were so deep and there were multiple of them. 

You played with the hems trying to find words to say. “I’m sorry,” you finally got out, “for everything.” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“It is entirely my fault. I don’t know how to deal with things in a healthy way. I’ve been handling a lot on my own and I broke down. I snapped in the worst way possible. The doctors called it a nervous breakdown.” 

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” 

“Maybe you should be.” 

He shook his head, “I could never be mad at you.” 

You lowered yourself to the faux leather couch behind you and slowly took in a deep breath. “I have a lot of issues and I’ve always known they were there. I just…” You shrugged, “I didn’t think something like this would happen. I’ve struggled with self-harm before, but I snapped.” 

He sat across from you and shifted his body to face you. “I’m really sorry I yelled at you that day. I shouldn’t have ye-” 

“You were stressed and upset, it happens sometimes.” 

“That doesn’t make it right.” 

“The therapist says I have parental issues from my father and it has affected me in a variety of ways. In fact, she said it’s why I’m probably dating you.” 

“What’s wrong with our relationship?” 

“She said I need to stop leaning on you to fill the void that my dad left behind and I hate that she’s right.” 

“Oh…” His face fell. “So does that mean we’re breaking up?” 

“Do you want to?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t, but what about you? What do you want to do?” 

“I don’t wanna break up either.” 

“So…” 

“So I’ll attend therapy and work on my issues. I’ll attempt to stop relying on you to make me happy because it’s not healthy.” 

“Yeah…” 

There was an awkwardness between you. Neither knew what to say and nobody wanted to harm the other. Chan finally broke the silence. “Can I hold you?” 

You shifted and crawled over towards him. He was careful of the stitches in your palm and in your opposite arm. You curled into his lap and he pulled you to his chest. Your head leaned against the familiar thump of his heartbeat. “I missed you,” you mumbled. 

“I miss you too.” His lips kissed the top of your head. Your sweet scent engulfed him. He leaned his chin on your head and shut his eyes. The warmth of your body was enough to set his soul ablaze. 

“My dad wasn’t a good man,” you finally mustered the courage to talk about it. “He called me at the studio and I didn’t read the caller ID. I just wanted to see you after a long day. When I left and went outside, he just started yelling and getting upset.”

“He’s verbally abusive and a hothead. Ever since I was a kid, he gets angry easily and he can’t control it. He throws things, he swings, and he’d destroy my things. I lived my life in so much fear because he’d threaten to disown me. My family never did anything about it, they just let it happen.” 

Chan’s hand went to your back. He soothingly rubbed it while you spoke. “I had no idea.” 

“I felt like I shouldn’t talk about it because some people don’t have fathers. I should be grateful that I even have a father and I-” 

“You don’t have to be grateful to someone who frightens you and makes you hate yourself. That’s not what a father should be. I probably enhanced your fight or flight instinct when I yelled at you, I’m so sorry.” 

“Every time I talk to him, I feel miserable. All of them, I’m so angry at all of them.” 

“You don’t have to continue putting yourself through any of that. You don’t have to talk to the people that make you miserable. Please don’t keep putting yourself through all this distress, baby.” 

“I just want to be happy.” 

“And I have no doubt that you’ll get there soon, sweetheart. When you’re feeling at your worst, you don’t have to turn to self-harm. You can come find me, yeah? I’ll always be here for you. Now that I know what’s wrong, I’ll be sure to never act like I did that day. I don’t want to lose you.” 

His arms tightened around your body and his lips found the top of your head again. “You mean so much to me. I can’t imagine a life without you. I’d be devastated if you weren’t here. If you ever feel like that, come find me and I’ll distract you.” 

“But that’s such a burden for you to carry.” 

“It’s not a burden if I love you.” 

You finally picked your head up and looked at him with teary eyes. His own eyes were similar as they looked at you. Without asking, you leaned forward and your lips connected. 

It was pure bliss…until it wasn’t. The front door to the dorm slammed open. The crack of it into the wall sent both of you pulling away from each other. 

Hwang Hyunjin sashayed into the room with a pair of sunglasses, a towel around his neck, and a blue pool noodle over his shoulders. “Surprise, bitches!” 

“Hyung, you have no manners,” Jeongin grumbled as he stepped in behind him. When his eyes found you, he beamed. “Hi!” He waved excitedly and rushed towards the two of you. 

Minho stepped inside, grabbed the pool noodle from Hyunjin, and bonked him on the head with it. “You insensitive fuck! I told you they couldn’t swim due to stitches!” 

“Ow!” 

Minho bonked him again. “You’re lucky you’re getting a pool noodle to the head and not a fist to your pretty face.” He glanced over at you and grinned. “Sup?” 

Chan sighed and kept his arms clamped around your back. “I’m so sorry about them. I didn’t have time to tell you that I invited all of them over to hang out for a game night and maybe some movies. We can order your favorite foods and w-” 

“Hyung, look at all my snacks!” 

“Mine too!” 

Han and Felix walked inside with grocery bags full of snacks. They wasted zero time going to the coffee table and dumping them out. The pair beamed happily as they waited for your approval and you managed a soft smile. 

“You two waste zero time making messes, don’t you? Hey,” Seungmin called out and he nodded towards you. “Glad you’re not dead. I can’t wait to-” 

The sound of Changbin screaming your name at the top of his lungs caused your eyes to widen in shock. Thunderous footsteps sounded from the porch and rushed inside. Changbin rushed in grinning with his arms outstretched. He was getting closer and closer until a pool noodle slammed into his face. 

He stumbled back dazed and Minho rolled his eyes. He handed the pool noodle back to Hyunjin and shook his head. “You are all unbelievable. You have zero manners.” 

“Strike,” Seungmin mumbled beneath his breath. 

You snorted which caused him to glance over and grin. 

“This is okay with you, right?” Chan glanced down at you. “If it’s too much, I can ask them to go back and I-” 

You shook your head, “it’s fine. I’m not sure about participating in games, because uh…” You gently shifted your bandaged arm hidden beneath your long sleeves. “Movie night and food sounds wonderful.” 

“Ya-hoo!” Changbin cheered. “Let’s get this party started.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Oh, snacks!” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Minho ripped the pool noodle from Hyunjin’s hand and bonked him on the head again. A scowl filled Changbin’s face. “Let the guest pick first.” 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Hit him one more time and he’s going to lose the last brain cell he has,” Seungmin complained. 

“Yeah!” Hyunjin agreed as he crossed his arms over his chest. Minho bonked Hyunjin over the head. He groaned and slumped into the recliner behind him. “Channie, hyung, he’s beating me up! He’s killing my brain cells too!” 

“You idiot,” I.N huffed, “you don’t even have any to lose!” 

“Hey!” 

“So how have you been?” Felix asked as he got on his knees beside the couch. “Do you want a snack? Do you want to play Animal Crossing?” 

“Or we could watch an anime?” Han offered with a cheeky smile. “Whatever you’re up for, we’re down with.” 

“Exactly, whatever you want, babe.” Chan rubbed your back with some reassurance. “The guys and I got you.” 

“Can I just observe you interacting with each other? There’s plenty of humor in that and I-” 

“Oh, sure!” Minho beamed. He lifted up the pool noodle with a smirk. “Sit back and watch me play whack-a-mole.” 

“Wait a minute!” 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t you dare!” 

Without another word, Minho grinned as he started to take turns whacking the guys’ heads.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi

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[moonlightisdancing]

Like A Virgin/ j.t.k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI practically smut w no plot, mentions arguing/drinking/parental issues, sneaking out, consumption of weed, pure awkwardness, some fluff, oral sex (m+f receiving), loss of virginity (m+f), penetrative unprotected sex

as always please lmk if anything’s missed

inspired by my dear nick & this song

a/n: sorry if this is kinda cheesy/short/whatever… just needed to write a virgin jake fic

——————🌸——————

“Yeah, maybe we can hang out this summer!”

Those were the last words you’d hear from Jake Kiszka after graduation as he scribbled his phone number and a smiley face next to his picture in your yearbook. He must have known you had a small crush on him that may or may not have developed during senior year calculus after some group work.

His number was saved to your contacts that day but it wasn’t until August came around before you ever texted him, but he wasn’t your first thought. You knew he lived relatively close to you, one block to the left and over the train tracks, all the way at the end of the street. Meanwhile, you only lived a block away from your best and really only friend, Kiera, so she’s who you’d spend most your time with.

Today has been the longest day of your life. A screaming match with your mom over the gap year you decided on last minute, your dad drinking again, an entire summer of pent up anger bouncing around the walls of your home had finally bursted at the seams. You spent all night crying, your mind traveling to the darkest of places. It just felt like you needed a hug, for someone to hold you and tell you it would all be okay.

“Hello?”

It took five rings before Kiera answered her phone. In her defense it was roughly two in the morning and you should have been asleep, too.

“Kiera? I-I could really use your company if you can.” The sobbing hadn’t stopped, the words barely coming out.

“Y/n… My parents won’t let me out this late, you know that.”

“Even if I walk there? I-Kiera, I just need a hug or a blunt, something. And I don’t know anyone else.”

“Well, you know Jake, and his mom’s much nicer than mine.” She sounded irritated but you knew she was trying her best to be patient.

“I haven't talked to him since grad, I can’t just hit him up.”

“Just text him? He posted on Snapchat like fifteen minutes ago and he lives right there.”

“Okay, okay, fine. But what if he thinks-”

“Just do it and let me know, okay? I love you, good night.” She hung up before you could even respond.

Breathe, Y/n, it’s fine, everything is fine.

You: Heyyy Jake it’s Y/n

Jake K: Hey stranger, what’s up?

You: So super awkward, but I’m in desperate need of a blunt and a hug

Jake K: Done and done. Remember where I live?

You: Yeah

Jake K: Come on by, porch lights on

How could you forget where he lived? Sure, you went once for Jake and Josh’s graduation party, but after learning how close your highschool crush lived to you, you’d never forget. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and splashed your face with cool water in attempts to bring down your swollen red eyes. A little bit of deodorant and some perfume would be the finishing touches before returning to your room. You couldn’t leave through the front door, the dogs would bark and it would add one more thing to the list of arguments yet to be had. It doesn’t matter you’re eighteen, as long as you lived under your parent’s roof, it was their rules. You opened your window and climbed out, using the junction box outside your window for leverage.

It takes eleven minutes to walk from your house to Jake’s, where he’s already standing on his front porch waiting for you. He’s in basketball shorts, slip on Vans and a pullover hoodie, and somehow he still looks good as ever. You weren’t half way up his driveway before he began walking towards you with his arms wide open. At graduation he only offered an awkward side hug, so this sure was new to say the least. Jake wraps both his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You inhale his scent, he just smells like home. Not yours, most likely his, but home with a hint of worn off cologne. Your heart begins racing a lot faster than you want to admit as he holds you until you let go.

“Shall we?” He asks in a deep silly voice as he leads you through the gate to his backyard. There was a firepit in the middle of some chairs and a cute little picnic table off to the side. You follow him towards the mahogany stained wood and sit across from him. The only light was that of the full moon washing over everything in a blue tint.

“Do you know how to roll?” Jake asks as he empties the contents of his pockets on the table.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head.

“S’okay, I can show you.” Jake turns the flashlight from his phone on, handing it to you to hold. He walks you through the process, admittedly you paid more attention to the way his fingers moved than the actual task itself.

You watch as his tongue parts his lips and licks across the blunt, sealing the weed inside. Jake reaches for his phone, his fingers brushing gently against your knuckles. The two of you stand awkwardly from the table, the moonlight illuminating Jake’s soft features.

“C’mere, I know a spot.” He holds his empty hand out towards you and waits until you place your palm in his. Jake guides you to the side of his house and down a tiny path that leads to a creek. There resides an old metal bench that Jake directs you towards. He places the blunt between his plush pink lips and brings the lighter to the end, the red hot cherry casting a golden hue against his cheek bones. A couple silent puff, puff, passes happen before you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. Life’s just been kinda…” You trailed off.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” He shifts to face you, bringing his one leg up. “We’re here now, that’s what matters.”

More silence occured as the blunt was worked down to nothing, but the silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to talk about your problems and ruin the safe bubble that naturally surrounded Jake’s existence, opting to ask him about his plans instead.

“So, is the band doing good or are you gonna go to college?” You ask, matching his stance by turning to face him.

“Band’s going places, I think. I dunno, gotta wait for Sammy and Danny to finish school, then we’ll really know. You?”

“Taking a gap year, but who knows? Maybe I could be some rockstar’s girlfriend.” Sheesh, the weed had you feeling ballsy.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The comfortable silence had now grown awkward as you struggled to even look in Jake’s direction.

“You should hear me play some time. I-I mean if you wanted to I can right now.” Jake stumbles over his words, presumably a mix of anxiousness and marijuana.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” You nod and stand at the same time Jake does, taking his hand once again as he held it out for you. His palms feel warm and clammy, usually you’d be off put but his nervousness is endearing.

He opens the little side door to the garage and flicks on the light. It smells very garage-y, the whirring of the fluorescent lights really tying it together. He walks to the opposite side and grabs his acoustic guitar before suggesting you sit on the couch next to him.

“We’ve been working on this one for a little bit, it’s called Flower Power.”

He plays chords to a song you hadn’t heard, singing chunks of lyrics alike. It was a beautiful song nonetheless, maybe even one you’d listen to on your own accord.

“Wow, she must be a lucky girl.”

“Think so? Why’s that?” Jake giggled as he discarded his guitar. He flicked on a lava lamp before shutting the flourecent light off and returning awfully close beside you.

“Are you kidding me? If someone wrote that about me, said that to me?! I think every girl wants to be loved that way.”

“Yeah?” He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Yes!”

“And what if I told you someone did?”

“What?” Your cheeks flamed red, matching the color of the lamp beside you.

“That’s your song, Y/n.” Jake reaches his hand out to yours again for the third time tonight, this time interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Mine?”

Jake nodded before some force pulled the two of you together, your lips crashing into his. After months of wondering what he tasted like, the flavor of weed and spearmint on his lips was one you’d never forget. The kissing grew quickly heated as Jake’s hands found purchase on your hips, his knee planted between yours as he hovered over you. You found yourself rutting your hips up against his as he did the same, the feeling of his hardening length against your clothed center driving you places you’d never been. The kissing led to shirts being removed, ultimately leaving you in your bra and underwear, Jake in his shorts.

“What d’ya wanna do?” He whispered between kisses, his hands migrating to your breasts.

“Um, not sure… I’ve never-”

“No, me either, it’s okay.”

“I can- do you want head?”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah,”

Jake sat beside you again as you stood between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees. You’d never given head before, or done anything along these lines. Your body filled with an unfamiliar sensation as you progressed, dipping your fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers. His length sprung straight up and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Never would you have thought he’d pack so much heat. You gently wrap one hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his length as you work your lips over his blushed tip. You watched a few videos here and there to sort of have a general idea, trying to remember anything from those as you bobbed your head up and down. Jake’s hands cupped either side of your face as he moaned and whined before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed with him in your mouth, his dick twitching in response.

“Can I give you head?” He asks, lifting you from his length. You nod eagerly as Jake laid you down on the sofa, kicking off his shorts and boxers. He kisses up the inside of your thighs before hovering over your center. You’re embarrassed by the polka dot cotton panties you wore, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his fingers into the elastic waist. He looks up at you and waits for approval before pulling them down your thighs, tossing them amongst his.

It’s a matter of seconds before his tongue begins exploring you alongside his fingers. Jake’s mouth marries perfectly against your aching bud as he switches between flicking his tongue and sucking. His fingers tease your entrance as he finally pushes a finger in, his mouth continuing its task. You watch him grind his hips against the cushions, his groans growing louder the faster his mouth and fingers move.

“Jake?” You whine, writhing under his touch.

“Hm?” He pulls away, staring at you with his soaked chin and lips.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Bold. The weed was giving you all the courage you could ask for.

“I don’t know where there’s a condom.” He kneels on the cushions in front of you, stroking his length.

“You don’t have one like in your wallet?”

“Why would- I’m a virgin.”

“Right, sorry.” It was kind of implied earlier, but hearing the words leave his mouth felt foreign. It truly astounded you that he was a virgin. People said he got around a lot, it was one of the reasons you felt you had no chance.

“Maybe just the tip? Just to feel?” He shrugged, placing his hands on your knees.

“Yeah… But what if it feels too good? And we wanna keep going?”

“Pull out?”

You knew that was almost always a bad idea, but you let yourself think with the wrong head as you agreed to the idea. Jake pushes your knees apart and slowly brings his hips forward, the pillowy head of his cock rubbing against you. You reach a hand down and situate him at your entrance, bringing your legs up to ease him in. Jake places his hands against the armrest of the couch above your head, his chest hovering over your face as he slowly introduces his length.

“More.” You begged through a breathy moan, wincing as he did exactly as you asked. Jake feeds his entire length inside, his thighs flush against yours as you both revel in the feeling.

“Fuck, this is so… You feel so good.” Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before trailing his mouth down to yours.

The pain of his thick cock stretching your tight pussy quickly subsides as he begins slowly moving his hips back and forth, his lacking rhythm quickly being found. His lips remain on yours, only pulling away from time to time to check if you were okay. Your nails find a home digging into his back each time his hips crashes into yours. With each thrust came the familiar warmth washing over your body causing you to tighten around Jake.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah,” You respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Suck for me, baby.” Jake brings his middle and index finger to your lips, pushing them into your mouth. After you coat his digits with your saliva, Jake brings them to your clit, rubbing circles over your bud. That only brings you closer to your orgasm, one that feels more powerful than any other. The pleasure that rips through you simply could never be replicated by your own fingers again.

“Jake, fuck, mm,” Your moans begin to sound like cries as your body shakes beneath his.

“S’okay, I got you, pretty girl.” He brings his hand back up, wrapping his arms behind your back as he hugs you to his chest. “I’m gonna cum, too.” Jake removes himself from your aching pussy, resting his cock on your belly as he lowers himself and begins thrusting again. It takes seconds for his hot release to paint your skin, being spread by his weight against yours.

“So do you wanna be a rockstar’s girlfriend?” He asks kissing up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

“I would love to.”

[darkdemeter]

WOLF AT YOUR DOOR

◤✘WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN | Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader ISSUE NO.#1

NOTES: ↳ I thought that this idea would be my smut ice breaker after it popped into my head when listening to some music. I have written smut before but it's been a while, especially in a form for others to read; so please excuse me if I'm a little rusty. This isn't exactly tied to anything particular regarding either Habits or Convict, but you may interpret this x reader however you wish. Have fun with the oneshot! I've tried to keep this as both descriptive and gender neutral as possible, but it may not be as on par with people who have become well accustomed to writing gn smut. WARNINGS! ↳ Enemies to lovers trope — profanity — wounded reader, mention of scars and blood — semi dom! Wanda and sub! reader & reversal — smut 18+, minors DNI** — angry/aggressive sex — dry humping — bondage — hinted breeding kink — semi-clothed sex — fingering and mouth oral receiving (Wanda recieving) — Wanda is just a tease to reader — maybe dubious consent? (I feel like I should put this in here, just to be safe) — minor choking — talk of marking — potential grammar and punctuation errors — I think that's it? SUMMARY: ↳ Of course this had to happen right before this mission. Wanda Maximoff had to pry inside your mind, searching for who knows what, the little witch did this to you. And now you will cash in on your promise - your one and only warning to her if she ever fucked with your mind: that you'll be a wolf at her door. Little do you know that you're a wolf walking into a trap.

✎ 4.2k

@alexawynters

↳ WANDA MAXIMOFF TAGLISTS

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‘Fucking dammit!’

You cringe to hide the snarl snaking up your throat, your palm harshly pressing into the bullet wound at your shoulder. A real fucking close call this time and all because of her. Yes, everything would have been fine had Wanda not pried into your mind, invaded the personal sanctity of your thoughts. 

But no. No, she had to just take a little peek didn’t she? And because of that, your mind was elsewhere - distracted - and your cover was blown before you could get the information you needed. In short, the mission was a complete fucking bust. Your report will undoubtedly be met by less than impressed superiors. When they brought you on, they expected the job done. 

It was your way to operate. You always got the job done successfully. Has Wanda purposely sabotaged you? Is that her goal?

You’re planning to confront her on the matter right now. You had stumbled all the way back to the compound because the car you took there was blown to pieces when you were compromised. Tony wasn’t going to be very pleased about that either. Shit, it’s like she’s trying to get everyone against you. 

‘Who does she think she is? Fucking me over like this!’

You enter the compound, the main level vacant except the night shift receptionist. She glances up at you and the sheer gasp of horror from her, you point a finger at her. “I’m fucking fine,” you snarl as you strut past her. Your hand leaves your shoulder to the large cut across your stomach. You allow a pained whimper to escape when you enter the privacy of the elevator to take you up to your chosen floor. 

Your ears ring in the deafening silence, breath fast paced and light. The wounds were of no dire measure to pay a trip to the medical ward. They only fuelled your anger towards Wanda. Ever since you first joined the team, Wanda always had a way to test your limits and push your buttons. 

It was just a common sight to see you both butting heads, whether that was during missions or at the compound. You both were always at each other, hackles raised and snarky comments. Of course, what was your conflict but a cover up to fatal attraction? That was the running theory of your fellow teammates, anyway. Never would you admit anything to them in any case. 

Wanda was a pain in your arse as much as you were a mongrel to her. 

Ah, that word: mongrel. Wanda favoured the use of that word for you. It was her name for you. The way you feel the fur beneath your skin bristle each time she calls you that is the reason why you now have to wear a shock collar. Anytime that the device would detect your body’s indicating factors of shifting, the shock would startle you and evade the transformation. 

Was it humane? No, not really. But did it give Wanda the power to only torment you further without repercussions? You fucking bet it did. 

The elevator pings and the doors open with a faint whoosh as you arrive on your floor. You immediately make your way towards her dormitory, which by incident, is temporarily yours as well. 

There was a small situation last week that left your own dormitory in such a wreck that Tony had you bunk with Wanda until he could fix and reinstate stronger materials to withstand your rage episodes. 

And you have only one person to blame for that particular incident. 

Your fist pounds on the door enough to shake it against the hinges. Your key didn’t work. She had the security chain engaged to keep you out. You can hear her inside, her voice is soft and fuck, if it didn’t aggravate you anymore than you already were it surely made something in your abdomen twitch and churn. 

‘That little–’

“Wanda!” you bark behind bared teeth, fangs pronounced in the mix of your frustration, you pound on the door again. “Open this fucking door, now!”

After a moment, and she was taking her time, you can hear the leisurely patter of her feet as she opens the door for you. She stands before you and the scent hits you. For a few seconds it disorientates you, you huff to regain control of your senses. 

“You fucking bitch,” you rasp, voice laced with your utter disdain for the woman who stood in your way; blocking your path. 

Her eyes were smirking first before the corner of her lips twitched into position. “How was the mission, mongrel?”

“A bust, thanks to you.” You growl down at her as you brush beside her to let yourself in. She closes and locks the door. 

“Why’d you do it, Wanda?” You watch her as she walks past you. When she doesn’t answer, you snatch hold of her wrist as you ask her again, tone far more venomous than before. 

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulls her wrist from your grip and continues on her merry way.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, witch! You did it on purpose, I know you did.” You point at her accusingly, the shake in your arm causes a streak of pain to shoot through your shoulder and you yelp. You press a blood stained glove to it again, teeth clenched hard that your jaw flexes. 

Wanda holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Right, blame me, of course that’s the logical thing to do. You just can’t admit that you failed to do the job.”

That’s struck a deep nerve because you’re pulled away from your original plan to grab a glass and your whiskey and head for the shower. Instead, you engage Wanda. Your hands encircle her wrists and the entirety of your body pins her against the back of the couch. 

The aftershock of the collar is a distant sting in the heat of the moment. Wanda is close, so close against you that with a breathy intake of air, her breasts push up into your ribcage. She eyes the vibrant hue of your glowing eyes. 

Still, she silently denies she had anything to do with it. Did she do it on purpose? You have to know.

“You– you read my fucking mind, Maximoff!” you hiss your accusation, “I told you to keep your magic away from there, but no, you had to go poking around.” 

Your hands move to grip her forearms and for the first time ever, she flinches. Your breath hitches in your throat and the glow dissipates from your eyes. 

There was much more you wanted to say. But the way her body flinched beneath your iron grip, how for a sliver of a second you swear you saw the ember of fear. Did you really scare her?

But then why did she smell like that?

‘Fuck, she smells like…’

With a deep breath through your nose, you lean forward until your lips brush the shell of her ear. “Stay out of my head, Maximoff.”

‘No.’

The glow returns to your eyes and the urge to shift right there crawls beneath, it feels like your skin is on fire. The collar whirrs in warning to keep your transformation at bay, lest you need another shocking reminder.

“Wanda–”

“So you’re really going to ignore the fact you heard me moaning your name before?” You hear the challenge in her light, accented voice.

The animalistic growl in your throat ceases immediately, eyes wide and despite your dominating position, you feel like the one under her. She smirks again. “Come on, what’s wrong?” 

She arches her neck - baring it to you - as she tries to press her lips to your own ear. She whispers with a sultry purr. “Don’t you want to mark me anymore, Wolf?”

Now it was your turn to be the one that flinches. Why is she doing this?

You retract yourself swiftly as if she caused you some semblance of physical pain that made you release her. In some form, she did. That pang of arousal deep within you begins to awaken and you don’t like the smug look on her face as she sits herself up. 

She tries to act cute and innocent when she is anything but that. But her eyes compel you with the flutter of her dark lashes. Was she casting a spell on you?

You back off slowly, eyes trained on her as she takes one step forward. Then another. And another few after that. You watch her hand gingerly play with the tight knot of her short, silky bathrobe. Only now did you realise exactly how short it was on her, the hem of it grazing just above the middle of her thighs. No wonder her scent was so strong, there were barely any layers to conceal it.

She wanted this to happen.

“You know what they say about us,” she tries but you’re quick to shut it down. “There is nothing between us.” Your conviction is absolute on the matter. Even if there was a hint of attraction towards the woman in front of you, surely the others would have something to say about it; all of which would disapprove. You’d not gained a wisdom linking you to your supposed mate which gave you ample opportunity to sleep with whoever and however many you wanted. 

But you never did. You continue to stare at Wanda, unblinking with a narrowed gaze. She shakes her head. Of course, she isn’t going to take your word for it easily. No, like always, she would fight you over it. 

“But you want there to be.” She sounds so sure of herself. She is still stalking towards you. When did you become a prey and her the hunter? You give no response and this only gives her more power to do as she sees fit. 

“If it weren’t for that collar around your neck, you would have me bent over the couch right now.” You hold a hand out as you call for her to stop. She halts in her advance, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. She flutters those lashes again and your breath feels heavy, swollen because of your conflicted arousal and confusion. 

“That is one of your fantasies, isn’t it?”

“I said stop,” you warn, slowly lowering your hand, “whatever you’re playing at right now, I want no part.” You see her lips fall open as she offers a toothy grin. “I’m just trying to understand why you fight this.”

“I’m not fighting anything,” you say quickly with a shake of your head. “No?” she purrs lowly with a quirk of her brow. Shrugging, she raises a hand up. “Then you won’t fight this.” 

The ambient glow of her magic orbits around her hand as she swipes her arm to the side. Your brows furrow and mouth falls agape, the clicking of your belt looped around your tactical pants is quick before the strap of leather is flying to the side, to some forgotten corner of the common area. 

Your eyes that bore witness to your belt coming undone fly up to meet Wanda’s, a protest on the tip of your tongue, you’re stopped short when you’re knocked back. Your arse, which you expect to get planted on the floor, is instead caught by one of the dining table’s chairs. Your arms are restrained by her magic to keep them pinned behind you.

“W-Wanda, what are you–”

She shushes you while she catches up to you, her steps slow and methodical. Her stare penetrates the darkest recess of your soul and you recoil beneath it. The pain of your wounds as they begin their process of healing are long forgotten now. You have other things to worry about, how much Wanda actually knows about you and what she intends to do with you. 

“I want you to admit it,” she hums in a low whisper that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. She was playing on your fantasies. The fucking witch. 

“Admit what?” You force the words out through the biting of your clenched jaws.

“That there is something between us. That each time we fight it’s because we’re denying that attraction. That the wolf needs me to satiate its appetite because we both know I am the only thing that can.” 

Wanda stands between the gap of your spread legs, she swipes her hand quickly and the lapels of your coat and tactical vest are torn open by the will of her magic. You exhale sharply, a growl pulling through your teeth as you glare at Wanda between the narrowed slits of your eyes. She drinks in the sight of your bare chest before her, the way each of the muscles flex beneath the skin, the heat of your body practically rising off your skin like hot springs. The red streaks of blood from your wound peeking out just beneath the fabric of your gear.

“Wanda.” You’re panting now, anger turned into the vulnerability that was your aroused state of mind. 

That was why you never gave into those temptations. Why you dismiss that flirtatious bartender at every turn whenever she sees you in that bar, why those who have asked for your number, you give them either the number of some Chinese takeout restaurant or even one of your teammates. 

The threat of such vulnerability and intimacy was too great of a target on your back. She moves to straddle your lap, hands pressed to your exposed chest. 

“Admit it,” she says again and you snarl at her. “Never! There’s nothing to admit!” 

She giggles then and rolls her hips forward and down against your crotch. 

“F-fuck!” you stutter, your arms and chest strain forward but Wanda has you contained. Trapped. Like some common dog. A mongrel. 

“Still nothing between us?” she asks, voice laden with a soft whimper, her purpose is to make you crack; to give in and admit to everything she knows. As if lying would spurn her when she knows the truth. 

Why does she want you to admit it so badly? Because she wants to torment you, it’s so simple. 

“N-no,” you grunt only to hiss beneath your breath when she rolls her hips again, this time with more pressure. You swear you feel the pulsing of her clit against the coarse fabric of your pants. 

You do all you can to refrain from bucking your hips or else you were done for. 

“So you mean to tell me that you haven’t fantasised about…,” she trails off with a pout of her lips, feigning that innocent look of contemplation. “For fuck’s sake,” you drawl as your head falls back. 

She’s killing you. Slowly but surely she is killing you. 

She continues, “being out here in the kitchen, late at night, drinking your whiskey alone before I come out here in a short, little bathrobe…” 

‘Oh… fuck.’ 

That was a recent fantasy.

Her fingers drag down the ravine of your heated skin on show for her to then fiddle with the two threads that held her bathrobe together. “Wearing this?” You shouldn’t have looked but fucking hell, you were always the a little too curious for your own good. 

She’s tugged the knot loose and lets the silky fabric roll off her shoulders and down to her elbows. If this was all to be considered as some strange, aroused induced coincidence then that is out the window now. Because there is no fucking way she knew to pick a lingerie set in your favourite colour. 

You tilt your chin toward her only slightly and let your glowing eyes take in her form. The moment she arches her neck the slightest is when you lose it. 

You lunge your neck forward, your canines bared and at the ready to mark the junction between neck and shoulder, to litter her neck with dark bruises so she wouldn’t be able to hide them. But you’re stopped short yet again in your advance. Her magic prevents you, mere inches away. To top it all off, she chuckles. 

She’s cracked you.

You growl, the sound husky and deep in your chest. 

“Fucking– let me–” Your muscles strain and flex as you fight the barrier of her magic to no avail. She tuts you softly, moving herself slightly forward so that her arms push her breasts up to elevate her cleavage to become more pronounced. Damn her. She continues to roll her hips in a slowed motion, riding you out into your confession. 

“Shall I continue?”

“No!” The single word sends a thrilling chill down her spine. “Then admit it.”

“No,” you answer again, this time with a more levelled tone. 

Her fingers move to the fly of your pants as you let out a confused whine as she loosens them slightly. Her palm presses flush against the junction between your thighs and you moan. And that sound is the most exquisite sound Wanda has ever heard you make. For a battle-hardened wolf, wild and untamed and a proven danger to the public, nobody would suspect that you were capable of such noises. But Wanda knew. 

Her palm is small in comparison to you, and as much force as she uses now there is a level of delicacy she retains. Your resolve is crumbling quickly. You jolt forward again with your mouth ajar to mark her but she stops you and arches back. 

“Let me have you!” 

“I’ll let you have me, play out all your little fantasies with me. But I want you to indulge in mine, first. So… admit it and I’m all yours.” 

Was she fucking serious? This is her fantasy? Well, you never expected her to be into something like this. “Ah, fuck…” She hears your mumbling, any moment now you are about to surrender. 

She just needs to push that last little bit. 

“Just think about it, Wolf,” she whispers, lips dancing over yours, one of her hands placing a single finger between your lips to keep them from meeting. “I’m all yours if you just say it. Tell me what I want to hear, and you can have your little midnight snack right here. You can have me over the couch, in the shower and in your bed until the tousled sheets smell of nothing but sex.” 

Fuck, where did she learn to talk so filthy? 

“I can’t,” you say behind a heavy pant. She whines quietly in your ear as her other hand that’s palming you stops, but her hips continue to roll against that sensitive region. At this point, you’re chasing your climax right there. Who knows if she will keep to her word after she indulges in her twisted fantasy. 

You shift your eyes to watch her hand that rests between your bodies and you almost lose yourself to your high. Her hand dips beneath the lacey fabric of her lingerie, her fingers sliding over her folds and thumb rolling her clit in circles; all of which is left to the beauty of your imagination.

“Wanda, don’t test me!” Your words are a command; a warning that she doesn’t heed. “But this is a test.” Your brows furrow, confusion etched into your face. “To see if you can be broken in.”

Was that all you were to her? Something to be broken in?

She begins to make those sounds again. The same chorus of moans and pleas with your name as a choked gasp on the edge of her vocals. You overheard her masturbating when you first banged on the door to be let in. 

And she was doing it to the thought of you.

“Wanda!” you hiss, your hips finally buck up to meet the hunger of her own that roll with such fervour, you believe she was so close to getting off right there in your lap. “Y/N, oh f-fuck, Y/N!” she gasps out, “right there, just like that– oh shit!” 

“Fuck, I admit it!” 

Everything stops all at once and your chest heaves numerous times. The air is thick to your lungs and each intake makes you feel like you’re drowning more than anything. Wanda stares at you, silently, her eyes searching yours when you finally look back at her beneath that wolfish glare. How that stare made her wet in her panties every time. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You scowl at her teasing words. The moment you feel her magic cease is when you pin her against the dining table behind her. She props herself up on her elbows, the loose fabric of her robe still clinging to her form but she was exposed in that cute lingerie set.

Like a hungry wolf, your tongue licks over your teeth and along the top of your lips. You groan as her aroused scent wafts up, the smell irresistible. 

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” She chuckles beneath her airy breaths. “It was the only way to get you to confess.”

Your hand clasps hold of her throat. Oh, how you love the look of fear and lust on her face all at once. It was a sight only you would get to see. “And I have a million ways to ruin you,” you growl lowly, “now you’re in my fantasy, Maximoff and if you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into by letting the wolf at your door inside, then you know I’m always rough.”

“I’m counting on it,” she wheezes behind the firm pressure you apply to her throat. “Good. Now keep them spread, Maximoff or you’ll learn what rough is real quick.” 

She does as you say and spreads her legs open and you sink to your knees, even then given your height difference, you are at perfect level with her soaked cunt, the large, dark patch evident of how badly she wanted this all along. This whole time. 

Your clawed fingers none too gently rip the panties aside, fabric tearing from the sheer force of it. Wanda’s hands find themselves clenching fistfuls of your hair, tugging you in closer with a needy whimper of your name.

Her legs hook over your shoulders, mewling when you pepper her inner thighs with kisses and playful bites with your sharp canines, a rumble of a groan reverberating between her legs causes her to quiver. “Y/N, please!” she pleads. 

“Ooh, what’s this?” you chuckle, “don’t worry, Sweetheart, I’ll give you a taste.”

You slide a finger past her slick folds, her walls tighten around your single digit. You groan when her moan makes her pussy clench your finger tighter. “Shit, Wanda, I’ve barely done a thing yet.”

“Then do something!” she hisses and you give her that same, wolfish glare. “D-don’t look at me like– ahh!”

She is at your mercy now when you begin thrusting your finger back and forth, soon adding another two through the folds. She whines and moans, cursing your name and praising your work. When you pull your now slick covered fingers from her pussy, she tries to protest but the replacement is swift; and in her lust-ridden opinion, far better. Her eyes roll back and she lays flat on her back against the table as your tongue laps at her cunt, tip teasing the bud of nerves. You growl again and fuck, if she didn’t make the sexiest, neediest sound ever at that. You continue with what’s working at getting your little witch off. Her breath comes in short pants and her legs quiver as they move to circle around your head. Her fingers curl tighter against your roots as she chokes out, “I-I’m cum–cumming!”

You purr against the flood of her orgasm, lapping her divine juices up with your tongue. She breathes heavily for a moment in regaining her composure. You pull your head, albeit, struggling to pry her hands and legs from around you, you crash your lips against hers. The kiss is passionate, fuelled by hunger shared by both parties. Her mouth invites you and you gladly force your tongue past her parted lips, letting her taste herself on your tongue. 

You rut your hips between her still spread legs and they envelop you, encouraging the rocking motion with eagerness. “I still fucking hate that you read my mind and all,” you mumble into the kiss. 

‘Even when I say that I've also thought about carrying your pups?’

Your smirk with a coarse chuckle, dark in its intentions and your eyes glow that colour that brings Wanda to her knees. “Naughty witch, don’t test me there. Those will be my pups you're swollen with.” 

She tilts her head again but this time, you see no intent to tease in her eyes. No intent to…

“This isn’t a test.”

Fucking hell, that wolfish smirk of yours could make anyone wet at the drop of a hat. Too bad for others, because Wanda had you wrapped around her witchy, little finger that danced with magic.

Magic that just so happens to unlock the shackle around your neck. Well, the wolf at the door is now off its chain.

[aria-the-motherblog]

Oh my god, halsin is a werebear isn't he?

Minor spoilers

This is headcanon but think about it. Both narrative and mechanics seem to point to it

For starters my guy runs around the woods as a bear for fun. He just regularly lives his life as a bear. DND druids can only wild shape for a few hours at a time mechanically speaking and they don't really take on the personality of that animal

Halsin does though. On several occasions he is overcome with his "wild nature" even if you don't play along with the bear scene, he talks about how he's poly like a bear, he also has bear like anger issues, not being able to be discreet in the goblin camp for example.

Speaking of when you meet him at the goblin camp he's still in his wild shape. A mechanical part of bg3 druids is that when you loose your wild shape up you are left with full HP in humanoid form, but somehow the goblins never saw elf druid halsin? Only the "warbear"? You want me to believe that these tiny creatures dragged a basically nuclear 5th level big daddy Halsin into a worg cage. Bull.

Lythari are werewolves not werebears but I don't think it's a coincidence that they live in communities with moon and WOOD elves.

It's also not nothing that werebears have a easier time bonding with bears and he has not one but two bears back in the druid grove Ormn, who refers to halsin as "master" and is absolutely devastated by the missing Halsin and Tuffet that Halsin remarks as getting lazy and leaves instructions not to feed her to Netti. I don't think Bosk is one of his considering he is. Far. From. Home.

And let's talk about appearances, werebears are said to be exceptionally tall and muscular in humanoid form. (I understand and like halsin's theory that he doesn't need a reason to be so big, but if he was a werebear it would explain it). They also are usually extra hairy and have beards now our elf man doesn't have a beard but... Sense when do elves have chest hair? Imo probably the most damning piece of evidence regarding his appearance is his scar.

Halsin obtained the scar while in wild shape. As I've mentioned before druids that are brought to 0 HP in wild shape transform back with full HP. So why then would a mark from let's be real that hit was what 4 points of damage, retain in his elf form unless our favorite duck loving dweeb wasn't in wild shape at all but in his bear form as a werebear.

All of this can be explained, but most werecreatures have some level of plausible deniability that's how they work.

Lastly the biggest piece of mechanical evidence is his Cave Bear wild shape that is totally unique to him. Other druids do not get this. It's just because he's super aligned with bears but why is he super aligned with bears? Because he's a werebear

So why does it never come up? I don't think Halsin actually knows. He was a child when he started playing with Thaniel and probably not that old when he started to realize he needed to protect Thaniel. By the time he would have started transforming into a bear he might have just thought it was a druid thing.

[leighsartworks216]

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

Consolidating all of my Astarion fics here (and if I end up writing for anyone else it will also go here)

Main Masterlist

Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

BG3 Discord

Request Rules

Tag List Form

Astarion

I Come With Knives Masterlist - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: This fic deals with a lot of heavy themes. Read warnings on fic

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In The Moonlight - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: Cazador, mentions of past abuse, mentions of biting, vague implications of sex, like one swear

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My Sunshine - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, grief/mourning, blood, injury, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

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All The Gentle Things - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: referenced blood sucking, touch-starved Astarion

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For A Cuddle? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: mentions of dried blood, referenced blood drinking and hunting

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My Moonlight (Part 2 to My Sunshine) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: Blood, grief, anxiety, nausea, hurt/comfort. READ FULL CW LIST ON POST

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I’m All Yours - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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To Touch You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: touch-adverse descriptions of touch, hurt/comfort themes

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Designated Lockpicker - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: one swear word, reference to Astarion’s past abuse, mention of a terrible texture, innuendos

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Dear Pet (AO3 only) - Astarion x Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: slight overstimulation, choking, blood drinking

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You Hate Me - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

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The Sound of Being Loved - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: some hurt/comfort, talk about The Scar™️

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In Your Silence (I Hear You) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: going through a busy crowd, brief mention of nails digging into skin, some sensory issues (touch, sound)

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I’ve Got You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: fever, fever chills

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I Love You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: non-descriptive sex, dealing with trauma, swearing, love confessions

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You Have A Type, Don’t You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

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Shut Up - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: swearing, anger

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Thank You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: alcohol use

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A Cruel Trick - AO3 - Astarion & gn!Tav

Warnings: angst, blood, injury, references to past abuse, open-ended

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Aftercare - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: barest hint of possible angst if you squint, references to sex

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Get Up Goddamn You! - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: death, blood, heavy angst, swearing, bittersweet ending

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Naked But Safe - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: non-consensual undressing (by Raphael), slight arguing, swearing, trauma

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Every Time I Make Love In Your Shape, You Will Know - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: This fic has themes of rape and non-con. Read warnings on fic

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Fondness In Your Eyes - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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To Ease Your Burden - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: chronic pain

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You Are Full Of Surprises, Aren’t You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: knife throwing, height difference

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What He Wants - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: sex mentions, references to past abuse/trauma, loss of sense of self

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Your Stupid Face - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, bickering

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Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall In Love With You) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: manipulation

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You Sweet Thing - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: swearing, scratching

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Kisses Like Prayers - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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You Can Take It - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: overstimulation, swearing, crying

Fem and Masc versions on AO3

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May I Kiss You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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You Deserve It - AO3 - Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: swearing, references to sexual trauma

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I Want Nothing More - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: making out, grinding, swearing, references to voyeurism

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It's A Gift - AO3 - Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

Warnings: vague references to trauma, self-doubt, swearing

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Rises The Moon - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: panic attack, ugly crying, protective Astarion

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Are You Sure You Want This? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: nervousness

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Small Hands - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: references to violence, swearing, hurt/comfort

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I Will Always Choose You - AO3 - Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)

Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing

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Acid - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: descriptions of chemical/acid burns, descriptions of acid burning flesh, swearing, panicking, pain, blindness

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The Rescue of Magistrate Ancunin - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Warnings: blood, injury, fear of death, descriptions of dying, swearing, descriptions of pain, angst

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Song Bird - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: references to sex, anxiety

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