#he’s not even gone yet and I already miss him so much it fucking hurts

[cutielando]

just imagining play fighting with lando and him always letting her win etc. maybe one day he’s stressed or not in the mood for her antics and using some strength to move her off or something and her being shocked or something, just general fluffy angst :)

a/n: i love this idea !!! i kept the angst to a minimum because i hate writing/reading it but it's still there!!!

my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

It had become a ritual between the two of you, really.

You were both still very much children at heart, it was bound to be known that chaos would appear every time you two were together.

Ever since the two of you got together, there was never a dull moment in the apartment you had come to share. Your friends had quickly realized what a challenge you two were combined, the energy that you both brought to the party being a little too much to deal with sometimes.

One particular thing that had become your own was play fighting. 

You loved “fighting” with Lando, getting your energy out of your body while also bonding with the one you loved. Of course, he would almost always let you win, going easy on you in fear of hurting you.

But you didn’t go easy on him, never. He was much stronger and fitter than you, so he already had the upper hand on you. You had to compensate with something, even if you knew he would never actually go hard on you. 

However, as much as Lando loved indulging you and seeing your radiant smile every time you would get his attention, he had been having a really crappy day and was not in the mood for it by the time he came home.

Many meetings, a very hard training session and hours doing simulator work at the MTC before returning to Monaco on a very late flight. He was exhausted, barely keeping his eyes open by the time he had reached the door of your apartment.

You had been waiting for him, having cooked some dinner earlier in the evening which you had put in the fridge for when he would get home. You were very eager to see him, he had been gone for a couple of days and you were excited to finally have him back.

“Babe?” you called out from your place on the couch as soon as you heard the front door open and close.

“Yeah” he called out, and you should have realized that he sounded absolutely exhausted and really not in the mood for anything else other than catch up on some sleep.

But you didn’t think twice about it, instead skipping towards him and flinging yourself into his arms. He grunted at the impact, but wrapped his arms around your waist loosely in return.

“I missed you” you murmured against his chest, pressing a kiss to his collarbone as you pulled away.

“Missed you too” he said, planting a quick kiss on your forehead before he slowly walked towards the couch, dragging his feet behind him.

Seeing him dragging his feet while walking should have been the next sign that you should have just let him get some rest, but the excitement of finally having him home had overruled every bit of common sense you had previously had.

And so, you followed him towards the couch, plopping down next to him.

You silently watched him, deciding to just go with it and start playfully pinching his waist and punching at his stomach.

Any other day, Lando would have indulged you immediately, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy to even think about play fighting at that exact moment.

“Jesus Y/N, can’t you see I’m fucking tired?!” he snarled, pushing your hands off of him.

You froze at that, cowering into the edge of the couch you were sitting on. You knew you shouldn’t take it to heart, you could see how tired he was and you should've taken it as a cue to just let him be. And yet, you didn’t.

Silently, you nodded and slowly got up, making your way towards your shared bedroom.

“There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry” you said timidly before you left the couch, disappearing from the room in the next second.

Lando sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. The instant regret quickly settled into his mind, knowing he had just made a huge mistake by shouting at you.

He sat on the couch for a little while longer, trying to get his thoughts in order while you unknowingly buried yourself into the blankets on your bed, watching a show to distract your mind from what had just happened.

You knew deep down that you should have backed off from the moment you had seen him, how tired and completely broken he looked. But you didn’t, and Lando had been in the right in telling you to back off and leave him alone.

But the hurt was still there, his words and tone ringing in your ears. Lando had never been the type of person to yell or verbally abuse you, he didn’t believe that shouting and fighting solved anything. He preferred talking things through, but tonight something had just snapped.

You didn’t know how long you had been laying there by yourself, trying to keep your mind occupied on the show you were currently watching. At some point, you had heard Lando in the kitchen, most probably eating the food you had put aside for him.

And then, the footsteps slowly started getting closer and closer to the bedroom, the door slowly opening in the following moment. Lando stuck his head inside, seeing you concentrated on your phone in the middle of the bed. 

He sighed, letting his head rest against the door for a moment before he entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him.

“Can we talk?” his voice was small, testing out the waters.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before you closed your phone and nodded, sitting up and resting your back against the headboard.

“Sure” you said, smiling slightly at him to show him you weren’t mad at him.

“Look, I’m sorry for earlier. You know I always want to play with you and I’d never turn you away, but I’m just so exhausted that it was the last thing on my mind. But even so, I had no right lashing out at you like I did earlier” he said, slowly moving towards you as he spoke until he finally reached the bed and sat down next to you.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I know. I saw how tired you were right when you came home, I should’ve just backed off and helped you relax. I was just shocked for a moment” you said, trying to make him feel better about the situation.

But he wasn’t having it.

He knew he had hurt you with how he had spoken, he knew he had been out of line and he needed to make sure you knew he would never do it again, not after seeing how hurt you had been.

“Don’t sugarcoat this. I yelled, and I promised never to yell at you. I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you and I promise to never speak to you like that again” he said, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your palm.

You smiled, shifting closer to him to envelop him in your arms. He practically melted into the warmth of your body, the fatigue he had been hoping to evade slowly catching up to him.

“It’s okay, I know. I love you” you whispered, kissing the top of his head and running your hands through his curls that you loved so much.

He mumbled “I love you” back before he moved to properly lay on the bed on top of you, settling with his head on your chest.

And as you laid there together, you knew you were going to overcome this together. 

You were going to be okay.

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[rainbownomja]

Sometimes I just wanna say fuck you to the universe and set it all on fire.

Like after everything, you really had to give my cat a bone destroying infection? You had to make it impossible to figure out if it’s curable or cancer?

You really had to take him from me too?

[graphicpepsi]

thunder (nsfw, mdni)

OR: soft morning sex w simon the morning of his deployment :(

You woke up to a hand stroking your back, lovingly, and somehow you could tell he'd been awake for hours already. You hated that you'd woken up. If only you could stay with him, in warm sheets and sunkissed pillowcases forever. If only he wasn't mere hours away from fighting for his life.

"Mornin, love." His voice is gruff from sleep. You look up from his chest to meet his eyes. He looked at you like he mourned you, like he dreadfully pitied your sadness.

It scared him how much you loved him, because it gave him something to live for.

"Don't go, Si."

He sighs, heavy, his chest moving your body as it heaved. You have this conversation every time- every fucking time, and your heart hurts knowing it can only end with one word.

"Can't."

"I know."

He rubs his hand against your back, like he's trying to soothe a child. Your breath is getting caught in your chest, and your head is thick in water, your eyes sting like they've been rolled in salt but you're not going to cry- you're not going to cry. You can't do that to him.

You trace the scratches you left on his chest lastnight with your nails. Simon takes your hand in his, almost examining it.

"Your polish is chipping, love. Get 'em redone while I'm gone, yeah? On me. So you can scratch me up good when I'm back."

You force a small smile. He always insists on paying for everything while he's on deployment. Says it reminds him why he's fighting.

"I'd like that."

You peer over to the alarm clock. 7:30am. He had to leave at 9.

Simon sees the look on your face.

"Baby-"

But it's too late, a tear has already fallen down your face. And then another, and another.

"C'mere."

He sits you up, holding you tight in his arms, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

"It's okay, baby, I'll be back soon, okay?"

You sniffle, pulling away to look at his face. You're going to miss that face. Scarred and worn, soft and loving.

You kiss him, softly at first, like you're timid. But then you're kissing him, desperate and hot, salty tears on your lips. He pushes you down underneath him, gently, his hand cushioning your head. His hands glide up your bare thighs and waist, underneath his shirt.

He doesn't have much on himself- just his boxers.

He slides his hand onto your cunt, his fingers rubbing between your folds. You tug at his hair in your hands, telling him you want more.

"Sh, it's alright, love."

He's barely touched you and you're already shaking. You both know this is the last time you'll feel each other for months.

Even Simon, large and strong, trembles as he slips his finger into you. He's almost wincing at your little moans, your breathy little whines, because it fucking hurts missing you before he's even gone yet.

He curls his fingers inside of you, softly, because he's not fucking you. He fucked you last night, the night before that, the night before that. He left you hazy and vibrating, fucked out, cum splattered everywhere, marks on every inch of your innocent skin.

But this, this was something different.

You dig your nails into his back, harder than usual because you want them to last.

"God, Si, please,"

It's like you're begging him to stay.

You whine when he takes his fingers out, your cunt pulsing around nothing.

"I know love, I know."

He feeds his dick into you, slowly, and you're grabbing at the sheets, his shoulders, his back- everything. He fills you so fucking good.

"God, damn." He grunts as he thrusts into you, his head leaning back. Your back arches into him, rays of warm sunlight covering your body in little orange lines as it filters in through the blinds.

"Si, Si, fuck-"

God he knows how to fuck. Knows how to make you cum faster than you do.

His dick brushes your spongy cervix with every time he slams into you. Fucking heaven. Your tight walls on his cock, like velvet around him.

"This pussys all mine baby, all mine," He grunts, bracing himself above you. His breath is hot on your neck.

"All yours, Si, fuck,"

He slams into you harder, his nose brushing against yours.

"'M gonna cum, Simon,"

You whine, scratching his scalp with your nails, fisting locks of hair.

"Cum on my cock, sweetie, please."

You cum on him with a shudder, eyes screwing shut and your head lolling back. He cums at the way you shake on his dick, the way your little body convulses in pleasure like it doesn't know what to do with itself.

God, you're tired.

He fucks you through your orgasm before gently pulling out, holding your hips with his large hands.

Your eyes are still shut, your cunt aching.

You feel him tuck a blanket over you, another pillow sliding under to support your neck.

"Just go to sleep, baby, shh." He strokes your cheek with his thumb. You half-open your eyes to look at him, sadly.

He's crouched next to the bed, looking at you adoringly.

"I'll be gone when you wake up," His voice is breaking, "But only for a little, okay?"

You grab his hand,

"Please come back."

He runs a finger over your knuckles before kissing them.

"I will, love." His accent is thick next to you.

Neither one of you want to move. But he has a half hour to shower and go.

"I love you, Simon Riley." You whisper, shutting your eyes and sighing with the knowledge this is the last time he'll hear those words next to him for awhile.

"I love you too, baby. Just go to sleep."

He presses a kiss to your forehead before you hear him walk away.

Fuck.

A/N: 🥺🥺🥺 first time writing for our boy Simon bc i also want him primally even tho König is my main piece of ass. Hope y'all enjoyed

[azsazz]

Lips of an Angel (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the song ‘Lips of an Angel’ by Hinder. Azriel left you for Elain. After finding out that he has a child he didn’t know about, he’s furious.

**Daddy!Az AU**

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,805

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

_________________________________________

The glass in his hand is empty again, the bottle next to it too. 

Azriel sits at his desk, thinking about everything that has led up to this very moment: nursing the wounds he’d amassed from Rhysand as well as the full liquor bottle that he kept hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk in a secret compartment where Elain would never notice.

His left eye is swollen shut and throbbing. Bruises and cuts litter his body from the brawl he’d had with his High Lord in his office only an hour ago, over his ex and the fact that she’d had a child and never told him about.

The High Lord still packs a pretty good punch, he thinks as he shifts to pull open another drawer. His entire body aches with each movement but the alcohol has made it a touch easier. He’s burned through most of the bottle with his anger, but he could’ve sworn he had shoved another bottle in there somewhere.

Elain hasn’t arrived yet and he hopes that she doesn’t. Hopes that she doesn’t walk into his home with her striking smile and eager aura. Right now what he needs is to be alone. Alone with his thoughts, in the dark, silent and nurturing like they were when he was a child and his father trapped him in the dungeons.

The age his child is now. Wren. His chest aches an insurmountable amount when he thinks of the child, so much like him despite having never met. Eyes so strikingly similar to his own that Azriel knows you think about him everytime you look at your son. With tiny wings to match and the most stoic face he’s ever seen on a child, there was no doubting that Wren was his.

But you hadn’t even denied it when he asked, couldn’t, and that made him all the more angry at himself. That he had pushed you so far away from him, had hurt you so badly that you didn’t even tell him he had a child? That you had gone so far as to tell the High Lord and the rest of his family but not him?

“I deserved to know about my child,” he screamed into Rhysands face. The bellow was followed by a blow to his jaw, his bones reverberating beneath his skin from the force of it. It had been a long time since they’d come to blows like this, not training, but actually fighting. Azriel thinks the last time they’d had a real argument that had led to injuring each other like this was when they were still learning in the camps and Cassian and Rhysand had teased him, pushed him to his brink before accepting him into their found family.

“And you could have,” Rhys spits back, the utter fury in his voice shaking the paintings on the walls. The High Lord’s power had unleashed then, slamming Azriel back into the wall. His head crashed into the plaster with a harsh thunk and when he blinked the spots from his vision Rhysand was already pouncing towards him, ringed-fist raised. “We all put it together before you ever made a move on Elain. The signs were right there! Think about it! They were right in front of your fucking face and you didn’t even care.”

“Gods,” Azriel groans. He’s been leaning over his chair for far too long and the broken rib his brother had given him makes it hard to breathe.

But Rhysand had been right, all of the signs were there, he was just too infatuated with finding a mate that he overlooked them.

When you’d started having dizzy spells and he’d passed it off as you not drinking enough water, or when you’d told him you missed your cycle, he remembers that like it was yesterday and curses himself for being so dimwitted. 

All of the times you’d tried to cuddle up to him or kissed him just the way he liked but he still pushed you away because it had felt wrong to kiss you back when Elain was standing right over there. He was so busy chasing after Feyre’s middle sister that he didn’t notice your scent shifting, thinking you were coming down with a sickness that would keep you in bed for a day or two so he could have some time with Elain and didn’t have to worry about you finding out.

It was all right fucking there, and he hadn’t been able to see it.

Even when he’d come home to find you sitting in the guest room one night. The door had been cracked open and you’d been sitting on the edge of the bed looking around the room with a look on your face he hadn’t even cared to decipher, but he remembers it now. It was awe, excitement as you clutched your belly, probably thinking to yourself how exciting it was going to be to decorate a room for the babe growing in your belly. But all Azriel had done was pass it off as you starting to realize the distance he was forcing between the both of you and maybe you had decided to sleep in there that night instead of the room you shared.

There is no denying that he’s fucked up. Fucked up to the point of never finding love again. He realizes in this moment how badly he’s treated you, treated the little boy that dons his face and doesn’t even know him. Wren already thinks that Malik is his father, and with the way that the fae male looks Azriel can’t blame him. While you clearly had a type, your current boyfriend doesn’t seem to be as broody or cruel to you as he’d been.

Azriel sighs, saddened by the lack of alcohol he’s hidden in his desk, and sits in self-pity instead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Azriel wipes his hands on his pants because truly, he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

Sitting across the table from you, Malik, and Rhysand was not something he’d ever thought he’d be doing. Let alone being in the same room as you again.

And fuck, you’re as gorgeous as he remembers, even with the guarded way you’re sitting, arms crossed over your chest and your mouth set into a firm line as you stare him down like it’s not fucking burning you up to see him as much as it is for him to see you. 

Rhysand looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. They’ve both healed up due to the nature of their fae healing, but his brother’s glare makes Azriel want to allow the shadows curling around his ankles to shroud him behind their blackness.

And Malik. Malik is here, with his arm around the back of your chair. He’s slid his own closer to yours for comfort, and even the cheerful male he’d seen with his son doesn’t seem so joyful right now. His straight brows are drawn and he keeps glancing over at you in concern. 

Azriel can’t even find it in himself to hate the male. The one who’s taken care of you, of his son all of these years he’d been so oblivious. He wants to hate him with the fires of a thousand autumn fires, but, after the way that he’s treated you, he can’t help but to feel a little bit grateful for the male.

Wren hadn’t joined you, of course not. Feyre had taken him and Nyx down into the Rainbow for an afternoon art class followed by the most ice cream they could even imagine. Normally, you wouldn’t allow Wren so many sweets, but he’s been more than stressed lately with the information of seeing his birth father, and you’ve been trying to help him work through his own feelings on the matter.

Feyre even helped place Wren into an art therapy course with one of her good friends. Everett owns the studio next door and you’ve heard nothing but the best about the therapist. She’s been a light in Wren’s life as of late, and he seems to be responding well to the therapy. So well that he’s mentioned he might be open to meeting Azriel one day.

Today is not that day.

He doesn’t know what to say. His throat is clogged with years worth of emotions. Azriel prides himself on his cool, calm exterior, but right now, there’s none of that front on display. His palms are slick with sweat, leg jerking up and down to try and dispel some of the anxiety wracking his body. It’s no use at all.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he starts, and it’s more than a little awkward. He watches you and Rhysand share a glance and deflates in his chair. He’s more than a fucking prick.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you start, and he’s never heard your voice so cold. “I’m doing this for Wren.”

Azriel looks up at the sound of his son’s voice. There’s a hopeful note in his golden eyes that you don’t want to diminish, even if there’s still a sting as you’re reminded when his eyes had lit up like that at the sight of you. Your hands fall from where they’re crossed across your chest as the dread settles in, and you can’t seem to fight the tingling of your sinuses. You don’t love him anymore, but seeing him so often after years spent apart brings the feelings of everything he had done right back. 

Sensing your shifting emotions, Malik drops his hand from the back of your chair to your lap, threading his fingers through yours. Azriel’s shadows relay the way that you cling to his hand tightly, and he shifts in his seat.

He watches the way that your eyes go glossy, unfocusing from his and he knows that Rhysand is speaking to you, mind-to-mind. Azriel is sure that his brother is doing his best to reassure you, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. It should have been him reassuring you. It should have been him by your side all of this time.

Just the thought of Elain pains him. Everything that he has fucking done to you because he thought that he wanted her plays over and over and over again in his head. He will never forgive himself for any of this, but the road to making things up to you, up to his son, starts now.

Rhysand takes the reins of the conversation, and Azriel doesn’t like the way that he’s looking at him like any one of his courtiers, hands folded together as they sit on the table. 

He’s even wearing his crown.

“Wren has decided that he wants to meet you. Properly, this time.”

The floor falls out from under Azriel’s chair.

[charliemwrites]

This is for the two (!) anons that asked for Keeper!ghost and kept!reader’s first time.

You wait a day after he gets back from his last trip. You’ve… missed him? It’s weird to admit, even if just to yourself. You could justify that your body misses him but it’s a bit more than that…

Not to say your body didn’t miss him, though. It did. You practically climbed him when he came in the door, made him drop his bag just to support all your weight as you shoved his mask off and demanded to know if he’s injured. He’s not, but you still gave him a day to sleep off the mission.

And now it’s morning and you’re climbing into his bed naked, appreciating how the morning light highlights his stupidly handsome features. He was awake the minute you walked in the room but he lets you get all the way up before opening his eyes.

“Well.” He says and then stops because he’s too busy starin. You huff, wiggling up against him. He’s in just a pair of underwear and you rub your body all along his, luxuriating in scarred skin against yours.

“You’re being sweet this morning,” he notes.

You hum, nip lightly at his wrist when he threads his fingers in your hair.

“You were gone too long,” you say.

“Was only a month.”

“Too long.”

He chuckles as you climb onto him, kneading at his defined chest.

“You owe me.”

He arches his eyebrows, pets soothingly up your thighs and ribs, then down again. Over and over.

“What do you want, feral?”

“You.”

He rubs his thumb at your hip. “Yeah? You’ve got me here. All my attention, my love, my energy.”

You flush down your chest. “Yeah and I want it all fucking me.”

He blinks, just once.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” You hiss the ‘s’ sound, grinding on his lap. “So gimme.”

He chuckles, palms gently but firmly holding you still. “Alright, pretty, but I’ve gotta get you ready.”

“Nooooo.”

“It’s not a negotiation, little one. If you want my cock inside this gorgeous pussy, you have to cum twice on my fingers first. Not going to hurt you.”

And you bite him for that, but he’s not going to budge so you let him. It’s not like you’re going to complain about extra orgasms after all. He’s brilliant with his hands, petting and stroking at your soaked walls, stretching you so perfectly while toying with your clit.

You cum twice easily - almost reach a third before you whine and scratch at his biceps, little nails leaving livid marks behind.

“Want it, gimme, you promised, Si.” You chant. “Want it, it’s mine.”

“Yes it is,” he coos, sitting up so that you can hold onto his shoulders, brace yourself up on weak knees. “Easy now, don’t rush.”

He won’t let you rush, damn him. Settles you down inch by torturous inch, distracting you with licking kisses and teases at your swollen clit. You flutter around him, so wet that you’re dripping down his shaft, his balls, pooling on the blankets.

When he finally bottoms out, you instantly try to start moving, want to feel him ruining you. But he holds you down, squirming and whimpering, pressed tight against him.

“Not yet, you’ll hurt yourself,” he reminds.

He only shushes you when you protest that you don’t care. When he finally eases up, you push your weight forward, flattening him against the bed, hands braced on his broad chest. It changes the angle just so and makes you see STARS.

“I’ll do it,” you say, voice only shaking a little.

He murmurs encouragingly, palms light on your thighs as you start to rock. It feels so fucking GOOD.

“Like you were made just for me,” you babble, delirious.

He croons that of course he was, he’s here for you, to take care of you. Helps you find a good rhythm that has you grinding your clit against the downy blond hair above his cock. It’s a lot - too much really after already cumming twice - but you don’t stop even as tears slip down your cheeks, highlighted by the soft sunlight.

He feels so so good, fills you up so nicely. The head of his cock curves against your walls and rubs so perfectly against that spot inside you. You moan and gasp with it, nipping absently at his neck and collarbones.

Ride the edge for what feels like hours before you make a whiny, high pitched noise.

“What is it, pretty? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Simon asks, genuinely concerned.

“I can’t…” you huff, trying to improve the angle but no that’s worse. “I can’t…. Si, I wanna….”

He catches on, croons gently to keep you from tipping into genuine distress.

“Can I help?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration. And then he rolls his hips. A slow filthy grind that presses and rubs just right.

“Yes, that!! Again again, please,” you breathe.

You come apart barely thirty seconds later, jolting and shaking, collapse on his chest with a wet sob, back still arched to keep him inside. He strokes your spine through it, eases the aftershocks as you squeeze him so, so tightly.

“O-okay,” you murmur after a minute, sitting up a bit and looking utterly ruined.

“Done?” He asks, about to help you off.

The sound of you whacking him echoes through the bedroom. He stops, tilts his head at your glare.

“Finish,” you demand, clenching down and smirking when his eyes flutter. “C’mon, I want you to cum in me before breakfast.”

You stay on top, but three mind-shattering orgasms have basically turned you into a ragdoll. He easily drags you up and down his cock and you’re happy to laxly follow along and squeeze down every time he pulls out, milking him. You stare dreamily at his jumping muscles and make little noises at the oversensitivity, freely crying but clinging to him.

When he cums, you moan like you’ve finished again too, tilting your head back as he twitches and spills, overflowing onto his own thighs. You fall limp against him while he shudders through the last of it.

“That what you wanted?” He asks.

“Mhmm”

“Are you alright? Not sore?”

“Mhmm.”

“A bath while I make breakfast?”

You consider that offer, then shake your head and press your forehead to his chest. “Bath and then breakfast.”

He catches your meaning instantly. “Alright, little one. Let’s get cleaned up.”

[wildestdreamsblog]

Hello how are you?

I'm not sure if I've already sent this to you so... If your requests are open I want to request a fic with yoongi (or a member that suits you better) where they are in a relationship and the reader feels neglected, yoongi is too involved with the next album to give us attention so the reader tries to break up but how are we talking from a Yandere... I think you know where I'm going lol

Sorry if it's too confusing, I really like your writing so I wanted to read this from your perspective (with a lot of angst pls🛐

You’re not leaving me

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You were done waiting for him, done being alone in this relationship. But it turns out Min Yoongi is someone who won’t let go. Idol!AU

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Dubcon, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here you go because you asked so nicely 💜3,333 words!

“He’s not coming, is he?”

You flinched from your friend’s sharp words. You turned around to meet her eyes, having to step out of your own party to ask where your boyfriend was, where Min Yoongi was.

“Something came up,” you replied, your voice small as you forced yourself to smile at her reassuringly. She eyed your phone, shaking her head as she lamented how this wasn’t even the first time your so-called boyfriend bailed out on you. She said and you quoted, ‘What’s the use of having a boyfriend when he can’t even make an effort to show up?’

You hated to agree, but for the life of you you could no longer defend him.

The truth was, he couldn’t even be bothered to pick up his phone tonight.

The truth was, this wasn’t the first time he did this to you.

The truth was, every time he told you he was sorry, you believed him a little less.

“You deserve so much better, Y/N,” your friend said as she wrapped her arms around you. For fuck’s sake, it was his and your anniversary. And the person you wanted to show up couldn’t even be bothered to show up, she thought.

That night, you didn’t go back to his home. You decided to instead go to your own apartment, the one you didn’t let go of once he asked you to move in. It turned out it was the smartest thing you had ever done. You woke up that morning with a single message.

‘Sorry I wasn’t able to pick up the phone. How’s my kitten?’

You scoffed, throwing your phone somewhere on your bed without replying. You had not gone home the whole night and yet, he didn’t ask you where you were. You were almost certain that Yoongi himself didn’t even come home last night. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he didn’t know you didn’t come home, or that he didn’t even bother to tell you he wasn’t coming home.

Or that he didn’t even remember it was your anniversary yesterday.

You felt hot tears falling freely on your face with the realization that you and him were nearing the end of your relationship.

Was this even how relationship should be?

Were you just wasting time on something that you thought was more?

Did he really love you?

Did he still love you?

The door opened before you could even enter the code. His eyes went wide when he saw you, relief apparent in his face and the way his shoulders loosened. You hadn’t even reacted yet when he pulled you inside his expensive apartment, his arms tight around you as he buried his face on your neck.

If he noticed that you didn’t welcome his embrace, he didn’t comment, too lost on his own misery when he found you gone.

“I thought something bad happened to you, kitten,” he began, his voice shaky. His embrace became even tighter and it started to hurt. But nothing could hurt more than your heart right now. “You didn’t answer my message. I was worried!”

He stepped back, finally noticing that you were still wearing your clothes yesterday.

“Where did you stay, kitten?” He asked, his tone holding something unfamiliar, something dark. His large and veiny hand, the one that you always admired, tilted your chin up. His eyes were serious. Yoongi was always serious but you felt like this was different. “You must have been too drunk to come back home, right, kitten? You should have called me. I would have picked you up, you know that,” his tone was sweet, yet his words felt like they were a warning, as if you displeased him.

“You won’t make me worry again, right? You won’t disappear without a word again, right kitten?”

And only when you nodded did he let you go. He smiled so sweetly at you, before telling you what he planned for the two of you today.

See, everytime Yoongi messed up, he overcompensated. He became more romantic, bought you expensive things you didn’t ask for, took you to places you had never been. He held onto you a little bit tighter. And that night, he touched you a little bit harder, thrusting just a little bit deeper into you as if he was claiming you.

Times like these were the reason why you thought he loved you. But then the vicious cycle continued. He would become busier, so immersed with his work that he forgot to love you. You were understanding, beyond understanding. But just because you understood didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

It did.

And you could no longer live like this.

You didn’t know how to react when you saw on the internet that the group was seen at the airport today as they are bound to Japan- yet another thing he failed to mention to you. You were currently with your friend, hanging out after work when you saw the news. The look on your face must have been obvious that she snatched your phone away to read.

“You know what you have to do, Y/N. He treats you like you don’t even matter! How hard can messaging you be? It’s like he just wants you around without putting in effort in your relationship. Leave him, girl!”

You couldn’t even defend him because she was right.

The next night, he video called you. You must have been a masochist because you accepted.

“Hi kitten! Jimin’s asking which kimono you want,” he said in his deep voice, the camera showing you Jimin as he held up two Kimonos with different colors. His smile was a welcome reprieved from your dreary days. “Hi my favorite noona! Which do you want more?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at him calling you his favorite. “Why are you buying me Kimono, Jiminnie?”

“It’s a bribe so you won’t ever leave my hyung here,” he joked, unknowingly hitting you where it hurt. He was laughing at Yoongi as he said it. “He was more unbearable when he hadn’t found you yet.”

You lost your smile for a moment before acting as though you were happy. But Yoongi saw you faltered for a second. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t unfeeling. He could sensed that something changed, and to be honest it terrified him.

It terrified him what he would do if he lost you…if you ever leave him.

Once you decided what color you wanted, Yoongi came back on the screen. His handsome face never managed to not make your heart skip a beat.

“How’s my kitten? Did you have dinner already?” He asked in his sweet, deep voice.

“You’re in Japan,” you stated the obvious, your voice toneless as you looked at his confused and apologetic expression.

“Yes…I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you beforehand. Schedule’s a bit tight this week. I can’t wait to come home to you though, my kitten. I miss you. I love you deeply.”

That night, you didn’t say you loved him back.

You were done with the disrespect, with the disregard, with being an afterthought for him that you decided it would be best to leave while he was abroad. It would be easier for you to not have him around as you packed your things, as you packed the life you thought you would have with him.

With one sorrowful look at the bedroom you shared with him, you wheeled out your luggage out of the room only to found him sitting on the sofa quietly, swirling a glass of whiskey. The living room was dark, saved for the light provided by the lampshade, casting shadow on his face. He was staring at nothing, his form that of a statute from sitting so still. Slowly, so slowly he lifted his eyes to you.

“Going somewhere, kitten?” He asked in his deep voice, his eyes shifting to your luggage before idly returning to you.

“Y-Yoongi, why are you here?” You asked, your voice shaking with shocked and fright.

The side of his lips tilted up, his eyes observing your rigid form before sipping from his drink. He put it on the table with a thud, “I live here. So do you. So I’ll ask again. Where are you going?”

You were stunned by his replies. He shouldn’t be here. This was supposed to be easy. What was he doing here?

“B-but you’re supposed to be in Japan.”

Yoongi stood up, casually walking to you like a hunter would. It would be fitting because you felt like you were a prey as you backed away from him. He smirked, keeping his eyes on you even when you put the kitchen counter in between the two of you.

“I returned because I missed you, honey. Aren’t you happy I’m here now?” The look on his face terrified you, the look on his eyes was dark as though he was both hurt and angered by something, as though he was barely hanging on a thread. “Ahhh,” he pondered in realization. “You’re not happy to see me because you were fucking leaving me.”

“Y-Yoongi, you’re scaring me,” you all but whimpered as you backed away from him further when he came too close, his hand almost grabbing you. He tilted his head when you evaded his touch.

“Why are you running away from me?” He mocked you as he watched you ran back to the living room, putting so much space between the two of you.

He hated it.

Yoongi looked down at the expanse of the floor between him and you with so much disdain, his long black hair covering his face.

“Yoongi, let’s talk when you’re calm, okay?” You whispered in a soothing voice, not wanting to set him off. Yoongi had always been the calm one. He was even mistaken for an emotionless man. But you, of all people, knew that he only expressed his emotions with people he trusted, with people he loved. And you experienced how expressive he was when he was happy, when he was tired, when he was loving. But you were not familiar with how he was when he was angry.

You were terrified as you realized that now might be the time you saw his angry side.

“Why?” He droned, his eyes now focused on your luggage, glaring at it so hard as if he wanted it it disappear. As though he didn’t want to see the obvious evidence of you leaving him.

How could you leave him?

“Why do you want to talk now when you were going to fucking leave me without talking to me?!” He hissed, the veins in his neck protruding as he swiped off your luggage to the side in his haste to get to you.

And this time, you weren’t fast enough.

He had you trapped on the wall, his arms caging you as he looked down at you with sadness and fury in his eyes. “You’re really thinking of leaving me,” he whispered as tears formed in his eyes.

You attempted to push him away, your hands on his chest but he was as still as a stone. Why were you pushing him away, kitten? Didn’t you love him anymore? Wasn’t he attractive anymore?

Were you tired of me?

Was there someone else?

Was that why you were leaving him? You found someone better?

“Yoongi,” you breathed, trying to calm your nerves. You could feel how hard his heart was beating, could feel the emotions rolling off of him. He was shaking, his tears falling from his face as the handsome man looked at you with nothing short of broken. In an attempt to calm him, you slowly, so slowly caressed his face. Tears drenched your hand as he leaned on it, placing kisses on your palm. “Yoongi,” you called him again, wanting his eyes on you so he could understand why you had to do this.

“Yes, my kitten?”

“You don’t love me anymore. Or at least, you don’t love me like before,” you explained further and as kindly as you could.

He looked confused as he looked at your eyes intensely.

“You can’t seriously be surprised, Yoongi…I had to learn you were in Japan through the internet when you were the one I’m in a relationship with.”

“Are.”

What?

“You are in relationship with me. This is not ending. We are never ending.”

“Yoongi, I’m breaking up with you,” you quietly declared, and now that it was out there, you felt light. You felt…like this was right. Which was obviously opposite to what the man was feeling. Yoongi’s face glowered, his eyes burned with determination. His hold on your hand tightened when you attempted to withdraw from him.

How could he let you leave when you were the only sun in his world? When you made him feel?

“No. You’re not breaking up with me. You’re not leaving me. You’re staying with me until the end of time.”

“This is not working! You don’t give me time, you don’t tell me where you are, you don’t even show up-“

“So that’s the problem? That I’m not present? So you just want to be with me, right, kitten? I’m sorry I’ve been distant…” he whispered, his face nuzzling your neck despite your adamant refusal. “From now on, you’ll never be far from me.”

He promised himself you would never leave his sight until you took back the fucking thought that you would break up with him. If you thought breaking up with him was easy, you were in for a treat. If you thought he’d let you go that easily, then you didn’t know him at all.

“You don’t understand!” You yelled at him, feeling frustrated with how he was selectively hearing what you had to say. Your emotions were swelling up that you were able to muster the strength to push him away. You quickly put a lot of distance between the two of you, only able to manage it because he was in a daze.

“Yoongi, you only look for me when you remember me. That’s not love! I love you, but I love myself, too. I’m leaving you.”

His brows furrowed, why were you still insisting you were leaving him? He stared down at you with exasperation in his face, his nostrils flaring. Yoongi’s jaw clenched when he heard you said that you were leaving him.

And then he sprang into action.

You ran to the bedroom which was the closest room to you as you recognized you were in danger. You were about to slam the door to his face when he inserted his booted foot, effectively stopping it from closing. He barged into the room, flicking the lock himself before facing you with his dark face.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving me, kitten,” he declared, his voice hard before pushing you on the bed. He wasted no time, crawling to you and shoving your thighs apart. He settled in between your legs, avoiding you from closing them as he leaned closer to you.

In this position, you could not be more vulnerable as you were.

Yoongi was mad, yet his touches were soft. His hand caressed your face before kissing you. His kisses were different from before. He was kissing you as though he was starved, as though he was tired of holding back from you. His other hand was lifting your leg, rubbing his engorged erection on your core.

You wished you could say you were unaffected, but you weren’t.

He always knew which button to push, which spot to kiss to make you mindless. And Min Yoongi was using it to his advantage.

His tongue thrusted in your mouth, stroking against your tongue as though he was tasting you. The way he kissed you was unlike the ways you had been kissed before. This time, it felt a lot like claiming you. He was expert in this, you knew this from the start. His sexy, deep moans weakened your refusal that you found yourself pulling him close, your hand on his nape. His whole body was covering yours, his weight completely on top of you as his kisses dragged down to your neck.

He was marking you, latching on the thin skin and suckling like he wanted the whole world to know you were his woman. The way he suckled on your sensitive nipples made you whimpered, your hands on his silky, black hair. But when he went down to your core, breathing hotly on it, suddenly you remembered what you were supposed to do.

With renewed strength, you pulled his hair, stopping him from getting closer to your core. But you should know, you were no matched to a man who almost lost the only woman he ever loved. Yoongi growled, grabbing your wrists away from his hair.

“This is a mistake,” you moaned when he started lapping your core, his sinful tongue pushing past your lips with vigor. Your essence tasted heaven to him. How could you take this away from him, he thought. He could never go without this.

“No,” he growled, the vibration from his voice elating a moan from you. “This is fucking right.”

You tried twisting from him, a sad attempt at standing your ground. “I’m leaving you. Let me go!”

He chuckled, fucking chuckled as if it was hilarious to him. “Why would I let you go, kitten? You’re the one for me. We’re going to get through this.”

In your shocked at his adamant refusal to let you go, you didn’t notice that he stripped of his pants, his cock now bared to you. You always had trouble fitting him in you. He was thick, veins apparent on his cock. Every time you were done making love, you would always have difficulties walking. He fucked you that good.

His cock bobbed up and down as he crawled to you, his lips turning into a smirk as he watched you watched his hardness. His hot breath tickled your neck as he leaned in, his lips on your ear.

“You know why I’m not always with you?”

“Because you’re busy with work-“

He chuckled darkly, his hand completely encasing both your wrist while the other was playing with your clit, encircling it erotically.

“Wrong, kitten. I had to tear myself away from you because if I didn’t, you’d figure out how obsessed I am to you, how needy I am. If you knew, you would run to the hills. But I see now that was a mistake…you almost left me because of that.”

Your heart beat louder when he confessed. You tried twisting your wrists to make him let go of you to no avail. “Why are you telling me this now?”

With an indulgent smile, he placed a soft kiss on your lips. He pushed your knees to your chest, completely baring you to him. “Because you deserve to know how much you are loved by me.” And how he would never let you go.

He grabbed his cock, sliding it between your wet pussy before guiding it to your entrance. You moaned from his ministration, his seduction working. Your body started to betray you, lust attacking your senses.

“You want me, right?”

You moaned when he pinched your nipple, his hard cock teasing your entrance.

“You love me, right? You’re never going to leave me…right?”

And when you moaned yes, he suddenly pushed his cock inside you.

By the end of that night, he made you screamed how much you loved him. And come morning, Yoongi looked at you with adoration, tracing the marks he left on your skin. The heat of your skin calmed him.

It scared him that he was willing to do anything for you.

And now, you would discover who he really was. You would discover a love that was too much, that was suffocating… a love that was his.

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Foursome and Double Penetration Poly Bat Boys x Female Reader

You always knew having three mates would be hard. Even more so because one of them is the most powerful High Lord in history. And the other two are the most powerful Illyrians in history.

But not as hard as the way they were gonna fuck your brains out.

All three males were completely different yet so similar in the way they loved and communicated with you and with each other.

The bond had snapped with Azriel first, then Rhys and then Cassian. You were with the inner circle at Rhys’ cabin in the Illyrian Mountains, when the bonds snapped into place.

Laying your head against Azriel’s shoulder on the sofa where you were all sitting and he called you name to see if you were still awake, “Y/n ?” You lifted your head up to meet his eyes and that’s when it snapped for the both of you.

Rhys saw the interaction between the both of you and was confused by the silence that had come from it, concern lacing his voice, “Y/n ? Az ?” Then the bond snapped for the three of you causing all three of you to gasp.

Cassian heard the three of you gasp and was confused because he had missed what happened and was a little drunk. “Uh… what happened ?” Eyes darting between the three of you, shocked at the fact that you were all mates, none of you heard his question. So he repeated it louder, “What happened ?” You all looked at him and then it snapped with him too.

You let out a scream because, mother’s tits not only did you have one mate, not two mates but three. Three fucking mates. Azriel was just in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. Rhys looked surprised and confused. Cassian only uttered three words, “What. The. Fuck.”

All of you had a serious talk about what to do but your mind was made up, you wouldn’t pick one over the others. You couldn’t, you’d loved them all throughout the centuries you’ve known each other and couldn’t stand to think about hurting them like that.

Luckily they all agreed that they loved you too and wanted to all stay together even if that meant sharing you.

The frenzy that came after accepting the bond was mind blowing.

It had been months since then but that fire between all of you was still there. That's why when they came back from being gone for half a day at Windhaven, Rhys winnowed all four of you to the bedroom, as soon as you had greeted them at the door.

The tension was undeniable, the scent of arousal filled the room, their muscles visibly taut under their clothes and pupils blown.

Rhys misted everyone’s clothes and their hands were on you, not one inch of your skin untouched. Azriel wasted no time in picking you up and laying you on the massive bed. Kissing you with fervor before pulling back and leaning his forehead against yours. Groaning, “I missed you so much, bunny.” As he was lining his cock up with your entrance, burying himself inside you with a guttural groan.

Your walls fluttered around him as he rutted into, burying his head into your neck as he fucked you. “Good girl.” You heard Cassian praise at your side. Then Rhys, “Taking all of him.”

“So fucking good,” Az grunted, lifting his head up to sit up on his knees as he pounded into you. “You look so pretty like this bunny, so full of my cock.” His voice was the embodiment of lust, each word making the heat in your tummy coil tighter.

Your responding whimpers had Rhys and Cassian at your sides in an instant. Cocks fisted in each of their hands as one of Cassian’s hands tugged and pinched at your sensitive nipples and Rhys’ circling your clit in tandem with Az’s thrusts. “Oh fuck !” You cried out already feeling like you were going to cum.

Azriels hips began to stutter and he started panting meaning he was right on the edge too. He shifted, angling his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. Making your walls spasm around him, “Want me to fill you up bunny ?” You nod and babble an incoherent yes that only your mates would understand. Azriel snaps his hips against yours faster while Rhys applies more pressure to your clit. With a small scream and your back arching off the bed you cum. Az following right behind you, his release barreling through him, coating your walls.

Cassian didn’t let you catch your breath as he positioned you on top of him while he sat against the headboard. Seating himself inside you in one go before jackknifing up into you. “Fuck, baby you’re so perfect.” He growled before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You were so lost in pleasure that you didn’t even notice Rhys coming up behind you. Leaning over your shoulder as his hand rubbed your lower back lovingly while Azriel’s shadows were caressing your face and tits while teasing your clit. “Do you think you can take us both, princess ?” You turned your attention to him, his eyes softening but his lips quirking up into a smirk at the sight of your fucked out state.

You couldn’t form words so you nodded your head and pushed your ass out towards him. Earning a dark chuckle from him, “Cruel, wicked thing.”

“She wants it, give it to her Rhys. She’s been a good girl.” Azriel encouraged.

Rhys didn’t hesitate, gathering some of your arousal on his fingers, slowly working your hole open with his fingers, as Cassian continued fucking you. “Rhys please.” You whined making all the males smirk at your impatience. Still Rhys was taking it slow because he didn’t want to hurt you, so you took matters into your own hands and grabbed his length pushing it in.

Cassian stilled inside of you, gripping your hips in a bruising grip as you worked Rhys’s length inside of you.

You and Rhys let out twin groans once we he was fully seated in you. “Fuck,” you panted, feeling your release building again as Cassian’s started slamming his hips up into yours again roughly. “Rhys. Move.” You gritted out through clenched teeth.

“I -Fuck princess.” Rhys groaned as his hips met the swell of your ass. You couldn’t focus on anything else but the sound of skin hitting skin. Eyes screwed shut, gasping as Rhys and Cassian pumped out in and out of you in tandem.

Your head now lying against Cassian’s tanned chest as they both fucked you mercilessly. “Look at me, Bunny.” Azriel commanded. Obeying without a thought, instantly meeting his gaze. “Good girl.” He cooed as his scarred palm caressed your flush cheek, yet the fist around his cock didn’t falter.

Azriel catches you staring at his hand as he strokes himself and smirks, “You want me in your mouth ?”Opening your mouth as a silent response, he moves closer so you don’t strain your neck, pushing his length into your warm mouth groaning.

The room is filled with the sounds of pleasure coming from all of you and skin slapping against skin. You were moaning on Az’s cock as you felt fire begin to pool in your tummy as he purred, “Look at how well you take all of us. You were made for us, princess.”

His words sent you over the edge, making you cry out, body trembling as Rhys and Cassian fucked you through your orgasm.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. It was too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You were so full but still wanted everything they had to give you.

The sound of your moans around his cock was enough to have Azriel spilling into your mouth. Cassian and Rhys groaning at the sight of both you, eyes screwing shut in pleasure as their releases barreled through them.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[uncouth-the-fifth]

good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

[2kmps]

gojo satoru returns to you after 20 days. you don't just let him waltz back into your life.

notes; 1.4k, mc punches gojo and draws blood, he's an oddly supportive prick here, roughly proofread, mdni

when gojo satoru disappeared from your life twenty days ago, you didn't want to consider any of the worst case scenarios. they turned in your mind like a spinning record, a needle skipping across the uneven surface. gojo was a man who embodied permanence; not in the sense of everlasting love and devotion, rather he would remain long after everything and everyone else ephemeral wasted away.

even in his absence in your life, he still remained there at the forefront of your thoughts while you listlessly navigated life-- waiting tables, handing out room keys to salacious businessmen, chiseled through hundreds of pages of heavy reading and dissertations for grad school.

life was an exhaustive dichotomy of moving on without him there next to you, yet him still wholly consuming you and lingering just there on the fringes of your every thought.

so, when the locking mechanism in your front door clicked and he walked in the apartment twirling the spare key around his finger, shoulders rolled forward, hand in his pocket--a look and pose so intimately familiar and reminiscent of what you knew: something snapped.

"yo!" he tracked you down immediately, glowing azure piercing into your core. "long time no see! c'mere, I could use a hug."

the floorboards rattled underfoot as you tromped towards his open arms, hearing the key land with a metallic rattle as your first swung into his face, peaks your knuckles making contact with the corner of his nose and high cheekbones.

you punched him as hard as you fucking could, put everything into winding your shoulder; all of the hurt, frustration, anger, agony, and longing he had caused you. the sleepless nights, empty dinner table missing his plate, and cold, kempt sheets that you had started inadvertently smoothing your hand across to keep your body from aching too much.

you punched gojo satoru and he let you.

he took the hit to his face, still smiling even when he crumpled against the wall, sliding to the floor in an unceremonious heap. it wasn't the force that did it, rather he thought it was something you deserved in that moment. a sense of closure to those long-held emotion that had been piling up for almost a month.

"not bad." he said, letting the back of head rest against the wall. there was a subtle saltiness filling the crevices in his lips as blood dribbled from his right nare. "do you feel better now? did you get it all out?"

"you're gone for twenty days and you're just gonna walk through that door like nothing?" your throat felt wet and clamped, words croaked and stilted. "you don't call. text. anything. and you just show up? what the fuck is your problem?"

gojo let his long legs sprawl wide, hands resting between his thighs as he gave you a look. "well, yeah. I live here, too. where else am I supposed to go? don't tell me you threw out all my stuff already?"

"god, you're so... stupid." you crumbled with a sob and a bitter laugh, hands pressed into your face as you dropped to your knees in front of him. "you're so fucking stupid. you're so fucking stupid. you're such a jackass. a prick. an asshole. I hate you so much."

his smile faltered, but only a little. "no, you don't. don't lie to me."

your voice was eclipsed by your cries, the warmth of your tears dampening your cheeks and palms. it was all coming out now; the mourning and suffering and too many emotions that you had forced at bay the entire time-- because satoru told you once that he didn't like it when you cried.

and, it seemed that was true even now because you heard him shuffle across the floor, his large hands seizing your arms to pull you against him and reacquaint your body to his.

he always ran a little hot; every part of him that touched you right now burned. when his fingers landed at the base of your neck, you thought they would sear through flesh and bone. his other hand was splayed across your back, holding you form, pushing presence into your spine as you twitched against him trailing up-and-down the length of it.

"it's really not attractive when you cry. you make all kinds of weird faces, and you always get my clothes wet." he was telling the truth here. "I'm giving you a free pass today, though. get it all out."

you rolled your face against his sturdy chest, wrenching the fabric of his black tee in your fingers until your sobs ebbed and the room mellowed into amicable silence. satoru simply waited like that the entire time, caging you against his body with his arms and legs, chin tilted towards the ceiling with his eyes closed.

you sniffed, cleared your throat. "do you plan to tell me where you've been?"

"nope." he replied, airily.

to expect anything else from him would've been your folly, even with him comforting you as he was right now. not knowing what had taken him from you for so long would haunt you for a long time, but there were other things that mattered more.

you loosened your fingers from his shirt, crimps staying in the fabric as your hands moved to his jaw. he leaned the weight of his head in your palms, coaxing you to lift your watery eyes off his chest to look at him. there was something otherworldly about those depths of blue; somehow fathomless, yet emphatically beautiful.

"are- are you going to stay? are you here to stay?"

satoru's pale lashes fell with his heavy eyelids, moving his weight nearer to your face. "who knows? I'm here with you right now. isn't that enough?"

it was amazing just how many times that man would break your heart with a single reply. how effortlessly it all came from his mouth without inflection or a stutter. as horrible as he was, he never once lied to you about anything; no matter how much it hurt, how it made you cry, how it sent painful torrents crashing through your limbs and heart.

"don't start to cry again," his voice rumbled low, vibrating hard in his throat as the tips of his soft, white hair were flattened against your forehead. "you've used up all your allotted cry time forever. you're also not allowed to wipe snot on my shirt, or get your tears all over my face, or in my hair."

it took a few tries, but he got a smile out of you. "you're literally the worst man in the world."

"nah." he still had his hand against your nape, the weight of it luring your face in closer. "I think you think I'm pretty great. alluring. hot. amazing. spectacular. you missed me. you love me."

satoru tilted his head as he brought you the rest of the way in to kiss you. his lips felt so full against yours, tasted metallic and salty from the blood and wet tears that fit between the cracks. he never let up on the pressure on your neck, using it as his leverage to keep you still as his kisses grew in fervor; lasting and lingering, unrelenting.

your hands moved off of his jaw to float up into his hair, fingers twining strands of white into rings at the base of his scalp, tugging only when you felt his tongue try to slither between your teeth. he let you have your way long enough to pull out of the kiss, lips swollen and moist from saliva.

"I missed you." you finally confessed, leaving a hot trail on his skin wherever your lips touched him next. "I love you, satoru."

in that moment, he thought he felt the breath stolen away from his lungs; like something knocked against his chest hard enough to leave him winded. twenty days without your syrupy, tantalizing words had done more to him than he wanted to recognize, and would ever admit to you.

still, he looked at you fondly, now feeling along the planes of your face with his thumb as he leaned into you once again for one kiss after another. he crushed anything else you had to say between your lips where they died in your throat as agonized moans spurred by his fingertips ghosting beneath your shirt.

"I know."

divider; @/anlian-aishang

repost from my deleted blog: cardeneiv

[queenimmadolla]

hey i have a req for the penny verse!! if u want can u possibly do penny gets her period and like starts freaking out and only eddie’s home so he’s like “uh- i’ll go get some pads” if u want to ofc!!! i love ur writing <33

five months later and i was finally able to get to this one. sorry about the wait and i hope i did it just! this was also definitely influenced by me finally having seen Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.

rockstar!eddie manip by the talented @themunsonator5000!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫

(dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!reader) *but like you're not even in this*

summary: Your daughter gets her first period while you’re away and only Eddie is home. Somehow, she ends up comforting him.

warnings: lots of sentiment, brief (and i mean brief) mention of an oc side character death, angst, fluff, some hurt and whole lot of comforting. and of course mentions of periods.

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗲'𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁, 𝗴𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂! more dad!eddie here.

Eddie let out a sigh as he collapsed back onto the couch, body nearly sinking into it.

  The house was finally quiet. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. Felt foreign to him, especially in the new house.

  He glanced around the living room, brown eyes lingering on a few empty boxes that had yet to be broken down from the move.

  It was a big change, moving from Hawkins to California and he was well aware there wasn’t a single member of his family that was feeling completely positive about the experience. He could tell you were trying to be, for his sake and for the kids, but leaving behind all your friends was difficult. Even Eddie was struggling, despite Jeff, Gareth and Anthony being close by.

  Corroded Coffin had picked up quite a bit of traction and a loyal fanbase that was stemming into a borderline crazed one. The demand for more performances and appearances was high. Eddie never thought they’d ever reach this level, had dreamed of it once but after he found out you were pregnant with Penny, he didn’t care for the dream anymore. He preferred his reality, his family.

  Then the kids got older and you always encouraged him to keep playing so they did, and it happened. It wasn’t instant, overnight, or even close in years but they’d finally reached the point where the members were rarely in Hawkins. It had been the source of a lot of tension in your relationship, the hardest thing the two of you had ever gone though. You hated that he wasn’t around much and so did Eddie, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Contracts had been signed and the ink had already dried.

  The fighting had been exhausting, at one point it felt as though the two of you lost each other and that had been terrifying. 

  And his kids—his babies. He was missing out on his babies growing up and it broke his fucking heart. Wayne appeared indifferent, but Eddie knew he cared and Penny was like you, always trying to seem okay and put together but she was hiding stuff from him—no scary secrets or rebellion, she was hiding her feelings.

  When you found out you were pregnant again, in the midst of all the fighting and distance, it had been the final straw for Eddie. He wasn’t about to let his family slip between his fingers. 

  The moment a show ended, and he didn’t have another the following day, he was rushing off stage to shower, throwing some inconspicuous clothes on to keep the invasive cameras from recognizing him, before he was on the next flight to Indiana. It didn’t matter if he only got to be there sporadically, he was there every. single. chance. he got.

  And when Maple was born during one of their concerts, Gareth was subbing in for lead vocals while he was holding your hand in the delivery room.

  It took time, love and a lot of nurturing but things got better. Then, you’d brought up moving to California. Most of Corroded Coffin’s appearances were based in the area which meant you and the kids would be closer to him, able to see him nearly every day if he wasn’t doing press or touring.

  You were extending the olive branch. 

  In truth, he hadn’t wanted to agree immediately, knew he’d be leaving Wayne behind (the old man said he wasn’t meant for city life, that he’d stay and have a place for his grandkids to visit and he couldn’t leave behind the women he loved, both of them now resting in the same cemetery), as well as your shared friends and the friends Penny and Wayne had made. It was a lot to leave. 

  In the end, you were willing to leave everything if it meant you’d never have to leave Eddie, never have to break your family. So, the boxes had been packed and labeled, goodbyes had been exchanged (Penny had cried when little Winnie, Megan and Margot Harrington, hadn’t wanted to let her go and Wayne had exchanged a heartfelt hug with his namesake, who was his favorite person to be around) and all your friends and family had been left waving goodbye to you from the rearview mirror.

  Yeah. Everyone was adjusting.

  Which led to today. Wayne had a field trip to the zoo, which he didn’t want to go on because of how new he was and his lack of friends. You’d been planning on taking the baby and going with him (the only way he’d agree to go) until Penny came down with something last night, complaining about not feeling good which meant you’d have to stay home with her. 

  If Eddie’s family was making sacrifices for him, then he was more than willing to make a sacrifice on behalf of Ari, his publicist, and canceled an interview he hadn’t even wanted to do in the first place. The guys were also happy to stay home, so it was a win. You took Wayne on his field trip, because Eddie couldn’t go anywhere without some dick with a camera following him around, and Eddie stayed home with Penny and Maple.

  Only, Penny locked herself away in her room and either Eddie was really out of practice or Maple just had a difficult time bonding with him because she would not stop wailing and shrieking. She had more teeth breaching her gums, and Eddie had tried everything he could to sooth her, everything he’d used with Penny and Wayne; frozen teething toys, massaged over the area of her gums, baby orajel, cuddles, she just fought him every time. 

  The only reason she’d gone down was because of how hard she’d been crying, little body shaking and trembling as she shrieked as loud as her little lungs would allow her to, tears streaming down her face and continuously pooling in her eyes. She’d worn herself out.

  Big moment of defeat for him, he’d felt guilty ever since he put her in her crib, wiping the wet trails from her face. Even in sleep, she didn’t look at peace.

  He could play to sold out arenas, had played a five hour concert in Madison Square fucking Garden, but he couldn’t sooth his baby, couldn’t take his son to the zoo and his oldest barely talked to him. 

  The life of a Rockstar.

  With a heavy sigh, Eddie reached to his side for the remote to the television. When his palm met the fabric of the cushions, he let out a more aggressive sigh, rising so he could take the couch apart in his search for that damn remote even though he knew it would somehow pop up in the most conspicuous place, though he’d last left it on that fucking cushion.

  He’d just lifted one large cushion when he heard a high pitched shriek.

  “MOM!”

  Penny.

  Eddie dropped the cushion as he ran upstairs towards her room. When he burst through the door, head whipping around, he still couldn’t find her. Then he noticed the light coming from under her bathroom door and rushed forward.

  “Penny?!” He called out, aggressively twisting the knob but it didn’t budge. He got desperate and shouldered the door, ready to break it down in an instant if she didn’t answer, “Penny, are you okay?!”

  “I need mom!” She called through the door.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He kept trying the knob, eager to just yank it off and get to his little girl.

  Had she slipped and fallen? Thrown up? Should he call an ambulance–no, fuck that, they’d be too slow, he’d grab Penny and the baby and take her himself.

  “NO! I’m fine, I just–I need mom.” Penny sounded closer, and Eddie felt a little relieved to know she wasn’t injured. But why didn’t she want him?

  “I can help, sweet pea! Your tummy upset? I can make some soup! Or-or I can go get you what you need!”

  “The only thing I need is mom.” She was right on the other side of the door now. 

  Eddie sighed, forehead dropping against his side of the bathroom door in defeat. Of course she didn’t want to talk to him. “Well, mom isn’t here right now. So. I guess you're stuck with me.”

  Alright, maybe Eddie had been expecting her to take pity on him but she didn’t.

  The door remained closed and she stayed silent so with a heavy heart, Eddie settled against the wall opposite of the door. He’d be there for her when she decided to come out.

  It took about ten minutes before he heard the door unlock and it opened slowly, just her head poking out in his exact direction, as if she’d known he’d still be there. Her big brown eyes were vulnerable, eyebrows slightly furrowed–she was nervous.

  “I’m bleeding.” She said it so softly, it had Eddie scrambling up and towards her. She backed into the bathroom to allow him in, but when he looked her over, he didn’t see any injuries. She was just fidgeting, playing with her fingers. It was when she glanced up at him and then nervously to the toilet bowl that it clicked for him.

  Penny had her first period. 

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Dad!”

  “Sorry, sorry! I just–wow, uh, first…”

  “Period, dad. I got my period!” She rolled her eyes and Eddie just nodded, head moving like a bobble head.

  “I know! I know! Trust me, I know what a period is. I’m just–you caught me off guard, I mean your mom said–.” And then Eddie recalled exactly what you said, “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

  Eddie ran from her bathroom, towards the master bedroom. Sure enough, a peak under one of your shared bathroom cabinets produced a box of pads, unopened. 

  “Yes.” He hissed, snatching it from its place before he ran back to her room. Penny hadn’t moved from her spot, eyes widening as he offered her the box and wiped the hair out of his face.

  “Here. Your mom got you these, she said–she uh, had a feeling you’d, you know, start soon.”

  Penny took the box from his hands, glancing down at them in wonder. 

  Eddie watched her, heart clenching for some reason he couldn’t quite explain. 

  “Pretty big moment, huh?” He broke the silence with a soft chuckle, clearing his rapidly tightening throat.

  It turned out to be the right thing to say, she angled her head up to beam at him. 

  “I can’t believe I got it, everyone else has it but I didn’t think I would!” 

  Penny was excited about it, you’d explained to him that she would be when she first got her period, because Eddie knew how much you hated yours (unless you thought you were pregnant–then it was suddenly your best friend who you missed dearly). It would be a big moment for her, a right of passage in girlhood or something. Or at least one that tampon and pad companies established. 

  “So it is a big moment,” Eddie reiterated, blinking hard.

  “Yeah, I–dad, are you crying?”

  Eddie kept blinking, shaking his head as his vision blurred and he sniffled, “No. Why would I be crying? I’m not crying, my little girl has a period. That’s it. Nothing to cry over.”

  “Dad…” She started before she placed the box on the tile and hugged his waist.

  That’s when Eddie actually started crying, bending over to wrap his arms around her shoulders. He held her like that for a few moments, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head.

  It seemed like she was trying to comfort him because she didn’t pull away, just let him hold her until eventually he realized she’d need to actually use one of those pads.

  “You know how to work those, right?” He asked, standing straight though his hands remained on her shoulders as her arms went back to her sides.

  “I know how to use them, dad, some of the girls at school showed me theirs.” She laughed out, “I still can’t believe I got it!”

  “Is that why you didn’t go to school?” He asked and she got quiet, shifting her weight and toeing the grout before she looked up at him, eyes clouded with guilt.

  “Shanti’s having a sleepover tonight and if I went to school, they’d know I’m not sick.” She admitted and Eddie frowned.

  “I was actually talking about cramps, but she didn't invite you?”

  Penny went back to avoiding his gaze and walked over to the bathroom wall, resting her back against it so she could slide to the floor and pull her knees to her chest. Eddie immediately joined her, one knee up and the other leg spread out. She was finally talking to him, he didn’t want it to end.

  “She invited me, but they’re just gonna talk about their periods and boys and stuff. And I didn’t have my period so I didn’t want to go.”

  “Oh, I see,” Eddie didn’t want to talk about the subject of boys and stuff, he’d put that off for years if he could. “You could go now, you’ve got your period.”

  “I don’t know,” she put her chin on the top of her knees, and Eddie stared at her, still so amazed at how much she looked like you. “I don’t know if they really like me. I’m trying really hard, but it doesn’t feel easy, doesn’t feel natural.”

  “I know how you feel,” he muttered and when she glared at him from the corner of his eyes for daring to try to relate to a girl in the sixth grade, he started rambling, “Sometimes, you know, you feel like you’ve got to try hard to get people to talk to you and sometimes you feel like they’re not happy with you so you try harder, and then you can’t tell if they like you or if they like how hard you’re trying or how desperate you are to be with them and wanting them to spend time with you or if you’re just annoying them. And they feel bad for you.”

  Eddie stared at the large mirror across from the pair, at his reflection and soaked in the truth of it all. He could relate to Penny a little too much.

  His head lulled to the side, catching her eyes as she watched him.

  “But she invited you, baby. If you ask me, I think they want to be your friends. Maybe it doesn’t feel natural because you’re scared to stop trying so hard.”

  She considered his statement, pursing her lips. 

  “Maybe you’re right. Can I even go? You’re not mad at me for lying?”

  Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh, hand reaching over to stroke over her curls, “About this? No. I’m just glad you told me. You can go if you want, okay?”

  She nodded, and Eddie withdrew his hands as she stretched her legs out, figuring the conversation was over. He felt a little better about their relationship–she hadn’t iced him out after all. 

  Penny moved onto her knees, ready to push herself up and Eddie was about to do the same thing when she got his attention. 

  “Uhm, daddy?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “I think the people you’re talking about moved from Hawkins over here because they want to be with you, too. All the time. You don’t have to try so hard, ‘cause we love you a lot. Maple’s just a big cry baby.”

  There was no way Eddie could deny the water at his lower lash line or the two large tears that trailed down his cheeks. “C’mere.”

  Penny wrapped her arms around his shoulders as Eddie hugged her to him tightly, eyes squeezing shut as the two ton weight that had been pressing on his heart was lifted by a little girl barely half his size.

  “I love you, daddy.” She whispered, squeezing him back. Ediie could feel something wet pressing against his neck and he realized she was crying, too. The last time he’d seen her cry was when they said goodbye to everyone in Hawkins. Eddie inhaled a shaky breath as he responded, a hand moving to cradle the back of her head.

  “I love you, too, baby. I love you all so much.” 

  They held each other until she pulled away, wiping at her face. 

  “I have to put on a pad, daddy.”

  “Oh, right. Yeah. I’ll give you some privacy.” Eddie pushed himself up, stretching his arms up and relishing in the sensation.

  “Can we watch The Wild Thornberrys after?”

  “Of course, baby.” That was the children’s show Flea always bragged about being on. Dude had so many movie roles, it was insane. 

  Eddie was about to leave the bathroom, doorknob in his hand to close it behind him when she stopped him again, “And daddy, if you want to spend time with me, you can always take me to the Spice Girls concert.”

  Eddie smirked, amused with the innocent act she was playing, eyelashes batting and making her eyes appear even wider.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  While Penny finished up, Eddie checked in on Maple–who was awake and waiting for him, pacifier in her mouth and little arms outstretched the moment he came into view.  His little mini-me (out of all of his kids, she looked the most like Eddie) cuddled up to him as soon as he picked her up, cheek resting on his shoulder.

  Then he went in search of the house phone so he could call Ari and get tickets for the next Spiceworld show.

(Penny ended up finding the remote for the TV on the arm of the loveseat where Eddie had not left it.)

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

the snap (Matt Murdock x fem-reader )

Summary: after the blip Matt was blipped away. But what happens when he shows up after everyone comes back?

Part 2 Warnings: angst, I mean it this time ok? I teared up writing this. But with fluff it has a happy ending trust me. Im dyslexic so there are probably/definitely going to be spelling errors. (I’m trying yall. Let me know how I did my first fic for Matt I think I’m going to make a part 2. Please comment if you can and reblog are appreciated if you want ❤️) mentions of pregnancy and childbirth and children

My eyes take in the childrens bedroom. It was small and quant but cozy. The nightlights lit up the room and my five year old daughter was layed down on the soft pastel blankets. I sit down on the side of her bed. She was so beautiful, her sweet brown eyes and brown hair. Her name was angel Murdock, She resembled Matt so much, sometimes it even hurt to look at her. It showed his best attributes on her. Even though she was only five years old she was already fearless, the teachers at the preschool always say she’s already getting in fights with the bullies in the class, no fist fights yet thankfully. It was her bedtime so you were finishing up reading a story to her about a princess and prince who fought a dragon.

“And they lived happily ever after the end” I kiss her forehead. And get up from her sleepy form.

“mommy, why do all the other kids have dads?”

Her question struck me in the heart. Leaving a wound size I couldn’t even patch up after patching up so many of Matt’s wounds. But I remain calm and collected like her words were just a simple question. Which they were, she’s just a curious child, there is no way that she knows how deeply I am affected by them. I twist my diamond ring on my finger and bite my lip trying to figure out how to answer this question without terrifying her. I can’t lie to her, I promised I would never lie to her.

“Angel, your father….went away. Hes gone he went with another half of the universe”

“will he be comeback?”

“no, no he won’t” I answered quietly trying to keep myself from sobbing. God I feel so weak, it’s been five years! Fiver years and I still can’t get over his death

“did he leave because of me?”

“no! No, he never knew about you sweetie. He was taken before he knew”

I take a shaky breath and kiss her on the forehead “goodnight” I leave her now asleep form and creep to the kitchen. I look down and the sink and I can’t take it anymore. Grief racks my body as sobs come out in waves. Why? Why did you have to leave I know you didn’t do it on purpose but why? It’s so unfair. Mathew I miss you. I know The city needed but mainly I needed you. I bring my knees up to hug my chest. I feel so weak, so fucking weak it’s been 5 years and I still haven’t recovered. I tpull myself together and wipe my tears mainly because I hear noises outside. A lot of noises. Screams, cries, laughter, sobs. I run to the window and open the curtain. Hundreds and hundreds of people are flooding the streets. Some are hugging, kissing, others are just staring in disbelief. Poeple are running in all directions and so so many of them are confused. Who are these people? Where did they come from? Could they he the ones who were snappe—

Knock! knock! knock!

the noise of someone at my door shattered my trail of thoughts like a broken mirror, breaking me of my trance. Who on earth. Or any planet for that matter would be calling to me at this hour? I tentatively get up. Cross the room and open the door, I was not prepared.

there. Right there stood my husband dead for 5 years after the blip. He stood in his lawyer suit in the doorframe. Just as he was before he left. He’s exactly the same. To him no time has passed at all. But I’m sure he’s heard it’s been 5 years on the streets. My body is rigid from shock utter shock. He takes off his red glasses so I can see his face again. A small gasp escapes my mouth as my eyes lay upon him again. Hes so gorgeous it actually hurts. Makes my heart ache. To say I felt conflicted would be an understatement I was downright a wreck inside. He so damn pretty. Was all I could really think. my shaky hand reaches up and caresses his face as if feeling he’s actually there and this isn’t some hallucination.

“sweetheart, I’m real” he smiles

“I-i Matt you were dead—you-you—oh!” I choke out in sobs

I seizes his head and he walks closer to me closing the door. I kiss him desperately like a woman starved. The kiss is searing and leaves us gasping for air. As soon as we break the seal we dive into it again and I let out a small whimper that allows him to slip his rougue into my mouth. I immediately submit to him and let him take the dominance. After sometime in a log swaying kiss. We stumble towards the couch where he tries to explain to me what happened but with me kissing his neck desperately it’s hard for him. In the five years he was gone I never took a lover. I couldn’t bring myself to. I was always thinking about Mathew even if he was just in the back of my mind. Especially as I walked down the more dangerous streets of Hells kitchen without him.

“sweetheart—sweetheart— “ he lets out a small groan that is music to my ears “are you going to let me know what happened or let me explain” he laughs.

I pull back and bip my lip “sorry”

”I know five years have passed someone on the street told me that after they did I ran to find you I’m sorry—“ his head tilts to the side as if he’s picking up something “there’s another heartbeat in the apartment”

I take his hands “Matt this is a lot to take in I know but….”

“y/n you can tell me anything” the way my name rolls of his toung sounds like honey. He runs his finger over my silk nightgown, his favorite fabric. He takes his time training my figure and them cup up to claps both my hands again “anything”

Reassured now I start my tale “the day of the blip was also the day I found out I was pregnant. Turns out half the universe was blipped away. You’ve been gone for five years now. The pregnancy was hard, half the doctors were gone, you were gone. Without many people to support it was hard but, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, who looks so much like you. I named her angel Murdock.”

he’s silent for a bit. I feel sorry I know how much it is to take in “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you sweetheart. I left you and everyone behind. God I feel so guilty.”

“Mathew there is nothing to apologize for! You couldn’t control it!”

We’re silent for a bit and I wonder if he’s listening to angel’s heartbeat. He beams “I can’t believe I’m a father.” He laughs “ironic isn’t it?”

“what is?”

“the devil is the father of an angel” he muses. His face is bright and happy

“I never thought of it that way” I ponder “she’s already fearless like you”

“Hm, maybe not a good thing. But she sure has the Murdock fighter genes. I’m just sorry I missed the pregnancy and everything”

“well we could always try again?”

“I’d love that” he purrs into my ear in his deep voice. And his head rests in the crook of my neck as he leans into my body. And I’m so so starved for touched after all these years I hold onto him like he’s the last thing in the world. I practically melt into his touch as I haven’t been intimate like this in so long.

“don’t leave me” i whisper

“no sweetheart” his strokes my hair “im never leaving you again”

it feels so comfy with his bodyweight on mine on the couch we don’t even bother to move to the bed as we fall asleep there that night not wanting for a second to leave each other’s arms. It would be hard to explain to to angel who this man she never met was will figure that out in the morning. Things are always better in the morning. No things are always better now that’s he’s back. Everything seems fixed, my whole world.

[mywons]

៹ enha when you're hurt.

▸ ִֶָ tags enha x reader + fluff + hurt/comfort + jayke being bf material + the boys being protective + romantic gestures. warnings! && mentions of injury, cursing. REQUESTED : hi there i love love love your writing and i was wondering if you could maybe do how the members would react if someone hurt you (either physically or emotionally)? ✿ 1.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

lee heeseung !

he's very very very attentive

whether you guys are dating or not, he makes sure to know all of your habits/quirks, so he knows when something's off

if you don't outright tell him, he'll ask for himself. "hey, what's going on with you? what happened, hm?"

please tell him so he doesn't think he did something wrong :(

his presence alone is probably one of the most comforting things ever, so if he's also putting all of his effort into making sure he's comforting you . . . god

if you're upset about something that can't be fixed, he'll listen to you rant & cry about it while he holds you in his arms and kisses the top of your head. maybe try and crack a few jokes to make you laugh,, get your mind off of it for a little

if it's something that can be fixed, he will give you any & all advice you ask for. would even take matters into his own hands if he feels like you're too stressed to handle it. he's so caring it's insane

if it's a person that hurt you . . . good luck to them???

like he already doesn't like seeing you upset but there's an actual human being that caused your tears?? they'll literally never be safe again

overall so so gentle with you and absolutely the best when it comes to making you feel better.

park jongseong !

he'll notice. immediately. like as soon as your fucking walk is a little off, he knows something is up

won't say anything unless you bring it up first, but he'll pamper you in so much affection that you know he's noticed your change in behavior

if days go by & your behavior doesn't change, then he'll ask about it

at this point, he's worried more than anything. just wants his happy baby back !!

^^ especially if your state starts messing w your physical health. he is not having it. has absolutely no problem w missing any & all events to cater to your every want and need, he's your very own personal caregiver

wtv's fucking with you will be long gone by the time he's done, jay hates to see you unhappy and he'll do absolutely anything to change it.

+ he already loves being there for you at every waking moment, so having an excuse to do this other than want ??? he loves it

you get texts from him every five minutes if he can't be near you "i'll bring food as soon as i can" "are you feeling better yet honey?" "i'm gonna stay over for the night"

you'd have to physically pry him off of you to go get a drink of water/use the bathroom in the middle of the night. poor boy is so clingy when you're not feeling well :((

jongseong the (boy)friend we all need $!3#+$%?

sim jaeyun !

he'd take you out on the best date ever, and you being you, you fall and twist your ankle

it's not that deep, you just have to stay in bed and elevate it for a few days. jake—jake thinks it is that deep

he feels so bad that you got hurt during your time w him, it feels like it's his fault even though it's really no one's

in guilt & genuine concern for you, he's by your side everyday all day. pampering you. holding your hand when you wanna get up and walk, cooking your meals and helping you bathe

he's js so so so sweet and by the end of it you're so accustomed to his company that you guys end up being a lot closer

randomly starts telling you how much he loves you throughout the day. platonic or not, he's just 100x more affectionate when you're hurt

even after you're all healed, his touch becomes a lot more gentle with you. the usual rough banter & playful fighting you guys do turns into softer touches and warm hugs. he's so careful with you

& finds himself being a lot more protective, too. a hand on the small of your back always

not overbearing, but it's to the point that you miss him so much it hurts when he's not near you

if someone else causes an injury or anything else that even slightly alters your mood in a negative way, pray for them

idk if y'all saw that one video where he said he'd fight over his partner but,, yeah. he didn't lie.

when it comes to your health, he's very very serious and he expects the same from everyone else you hang around

if he finds that someone around you doesn't feel that way, he would not hesitate to start an argument. you deserve the absolute best and shouldn't settle for less, he tells you

if you aren't already, you'll be in love w him by the end of your injury

park sunghoon !

sunghoon is an introvert, and because of this, he finds himself being quiet & zoning out sometimes. he has his bursts of chaotic energy like everyone else, but for the most part he observes

trying to lie to him ab being fine isn't smart. he knows you like the back of his hand. oh you thought he was staring into space? no, he was paying attention to literally everything around him, especially you

literally just the tone of your voice could change slightly and he knows something's wrong. he won't let it go either

"tell me. what's wrong? did something happen? did someone happen?"

he's naturally protective of the people around him, but you especially. you're very special to him and he likes to show it

you'd sit in his lap and tell him just about everything that's bothering you, while his hands are around your waist and he hugs you tightly

he knows he doesn't like dwelling on bad feelings himself, so his main thing would be to try and keep your mind as far drifted away from whatever's bothering you

whether it be physical contact, making jokes, reading to you, he'll do anything if it means he gets to see you smile because he knows you'd do the same for him

it's not rare for him to be affectionate, but he's usually only touchy when you guys are alone. now that he knows where your head is, he's always touching you as a way of reassurance

just so perfect in every way, doesn't at all think of you as a burden

kim sunoo !

he's definitely the type to be sad if you're sad

sunoo would walk up to you, expecting an exciting greeting. when he doesn't get that, he'd frown and immediately ask what's wrong

you'll tell him about the stomachache that's been bothering you, and he'd make you some tea and take a nap with you

it's easy to fall asleep as he traces shapes into your exposed skin

100% asking "are you okay? you're sure? do you need anything?" every five seconds

^^ make that every two seconds, actually

he's already extremely affectionate, but he usually shows it by teasing you. this time around? nuh uh, you're getting absolutely drowned in loving

just so sweet !!!!!!!! sweetest boy ever

he's so caring and forever concerned for you and how you're doing

you want soup in the middle of the night? he will sleepwalk to the damn kitchen and get the fucking job done.

yang jungwon !

he's probably used to dealing w caring for his sick members because of his leader role, but he definitely cares for you in a different way

showers you in gifts to take your mind off of your injury. buys you all different types of snacks and plushies <3

if it's something more emotional that's bothering you, there's no one else you could ask for that's better at making you feel better !!

he's so so genuine and it makes him so easy to be around ,, especially when you're dealing with problems. jungwon prides himself on how many people have told him how comfortable he makes them feel

definitely doesn't see you as a bother, and if you suggest such, you will be scolded

you're so very precious to him & he would never ever want you to feel otherwise. it's practically his duty to nurse you back into your best health so why would he ever be bothered by it??? especially when you're so wonderful to be around

his love language is definitely words of affirmation/quality time anyways, so he would never ever do anything to make you feel unwanted and is constantly reassuring you in any and every way he can

scolds redirects you when you try to do anything for yourself. "hey, let me do it, okay? you lie down."

honestly you forget you'd forget ab your problems whenever he's around, it's like his presence is the medicine to your wound

best boy <3

nishimura riki !

teases you nonstop !!

if it's something like a very small injury, he'll laugh at you as he helps your with your bandages

if it's something far more serious, he's far more serious

definitely doesn't like it if you don't take your current state seriously. you're not doing well, therefore you should be doing everything to get better. not wasting your time to make jokes. he's very rarely stern but when it comes to your wellbeing he's completely different

wouldn't get emotional unless it's something serious, and even then he wouldn't be emotional in front of you

orders you both different foods to try out of boredom each night

riki would 100% stay the night if you ask him, but if you aren't dating, he would sleep so far away unless you ask otherwise

^^ he's so cute bye

but in ending he's just super supportive and just wants the best for you, even if he teases you most of the time

!!!!!!! cutie

mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part twelve

Warnings: 18+, angst, mentions of drugs, mentions of death, unrequited feelings, smut, eddie and steve touch reader together , Steve manhandling reader a little, kinda threesome vibes

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | slight Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Word count: 10k+

Summary: Your trust issues and insecurities come to haunt you, yet again.

@mysticmunson thank you for your big help, love🥺

series masterlist

-

Eddie stares at you in confusion, the anxious look in your eyes worries him but your question irritates him, why would you even ask him that?

“Answer the question, Eddie,” you whisper, pleading with your eyes. 

He rubs his forehead, “no! I’m not using drugs, you know that! You know everything about me!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up. 

You lower your head, unable to look into his confused eyes any longer. Gone is the softness in them. 

“No drugs at all? No cocaine o-or heroin?” 

Your voice is so quiet he is almost unable to hear. He steps closer to you again, placing his hands on your cold cheeks, he tilts your head up, his eyes meet your glassy and pain filled ones. 

He shakes his head, “no, I’m not using any of that shit. I-I used to sell it, probably still have some shit at home but I never used cocaine or heroin. I won’t lie to you, I tried other stuff but no hard drugs,” his eyes shift a little but you don’t miss the look of shame in his eyes. 

You believe him. 

And you feel awful for even considering her words but the moment those words left her lips, you froze and the fear took over and when Chrissy told you that you would find Eddie the way you found your dad, you just felt overwhelmed and scared. 

Pictures of Eddie laying lifeless in your arms flooded your mind and it broke your heart, you would not survive it. 

“Okay,” you whisper, closing your eyes, the feeling of his hands on you, giving you the comfort that you so desperately need right now. You want him to pull you into his arms the way he did before. 

“Why did you even ask me this question?” 

Upon opening your eyes, you notice the way he looks at you, the way his brows are pulled together and his chest rises up and down heavier than before. 

Suddenly, his touch feels cold and you are back to worrying again. Will he feel betrayed? 

You open your mouth and begin to explain yourself nervously and yes, he does feel betrayed, the moment you mention her name, his eyes flash with betrayal, anger and sadness. 

His brown eyes fill with tears, he shakes his head softly, taking a step back from you, he drops his hands and the moment his hands leave your cheek, you panic. 

“Eddie-”

“No,” he whispers angrily, “you believed her?”

You shake your head, heart dropping to your stomach when he pushes your hand away. 

“I-I was worried.”

“You know me, y/n. We’ve spent every fucking minute together ever since we went on tour, when have you ever seen me doing any of that shit?” 

He is right but he doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t understand why you are so worried, why you reacted the way that you did. Eddie doesn’t know about your dad, Chrissy knows, Jason knows, Steve knows now but Eddie doesn’t. 

His shoulders slump and his voice cracks a little when he says your name. His heart twists in his chest when he looks at you. Right here, right now, you look so broken. Eyes filled with so much fear and worry, your bottom lip is quivering and you are trying not to cry. You look scared and haunted. He wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms but he can’t.

You will never trust him again, he knew that already and he thought that he was okay with it but he isn’t. 

He is hurt and upset, you believed her without talking to him about it first. You believed the girl that lied to him, that used and manipulated him for two whole years. He saw the accusing look in your eyes when you asked him that question and it angers him so deeply. 

“You will never trust me or believe me again, huh?” 

“It’s not that, Eddie.”

“Then what is it, y/n?” he asks. 

You want to tell him everything but you can’t, you are frozen in place. You have never talked about it before, not to anyone. You just can’t. Just thinking about it makes you feel sick, it brings all the emotions back you have felt that night when you lost your dad. 

You pulled the needle out of his skin, you tried to shake him awake even though you already knew it was no use, he was gone, his eyes were empty, his skin was cold, he was no longer there. You held him in your arms the whole night, you were frozen and couldn’t move just like now as you stand in front of Eddie, you are frozen in place as you look into his brown eyes. 

You love him more than you have loved anyone else before, a life without him seems like a meaningless one. You can’t lose him, you can’t leave him, you want him and you need him more than anything. 

But right now, he is slipping through your fingers and there is nothing you can do about it. 

Does he hate you for believing her? Right now, it looks like it. You feel like a goddamn fool, how could you believe the girl that abused him emotionally? She got under your skin the way she got under his skin. 

He scoffs at you, “fuck this.” 

Eddie turns around and walks away from you, leaving you standing in the empty parking lot at the motel. 

Tears blur your vision, your heart aches. Eddie never walked away from you, he never said things like this to you, he was never angry with you. 

“Eddie,” you cry, “p-please don’t go.” 

He stops walking and turns back around, pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs deeply, “go inside, y/n,” he points to your room. 

You shake your head and walk towards him, taking his hand in yours, you look at him but he doesn’t look at you, you whisper his name. 

This is what he wanted, your touch, the way you whisper his name so softly, you asking him to stay, he wants this, he wants you but right now, he is upset and hurt. 

He squeezes your hand and begins to walk, practically dragging you up the stairs. You don’t speak, you don’t ask him any questions, you just follow him and hope that he won’t leave. 

You can’t be alone tonight, you can’t be without him tonight but the moment you unlock the door and step into the dark room, Eddie tries to close it, from the other side. Furrowing your brows in panic and confusion, you grab the door handle and stop him from closing it. 

“Please don’t leave me.” 

Your voice is so small and shaky. He cannot stand the look in your eyes, the tears and the pain, it breaks his heart. 

His gaze softens, he blinks, shaking his head. He is hurting you, he is breaking your heart yet again but he is too angry, too upset to see it. 

“I need you,” you whisper as your tears fall. Your heart is racing, a hollow feeling takes over your chest and stomach as you look at him, “please Eddie,” you beg as you stare into his dark eyes. 

Your breathing quickens and the bile rises in your throat, you are so scared. 

Deep down he already knows that this moment, the look in your eyes will come to haunt him and yet, he shuts the door and walks away from you. 

He already hates himself and everything inside of him screams at him to turn back, to apologize for leaving and pull you into his arms. His heart aches weirdly and angry tears fall down his cheeks. 

The look on your face tore his heart apart, the fear and the pain. You were worried about him, you were scared that he was doing something that harms him but all he could think about was that you were angry with him, that you were accusing him, that you believed the things she said to you. 

But why out of all things, that she accused him of doing drugs? And why did it upset you as much as it did? 

Eddie walks down the stairs, still huffing angrily, wiping away the tears that keep falling. He walks through the snowy parking lot, looking back to see that your lights are still turned off. 

He can’t do this.

You looked so sad, so broken and hurt. Your eyes were filled with fear, you are worried about him, that’s why you believed her, you worry about him, you always do. It’s not the first time, he caught you looking at him like that, like you are scared that he will disappear any moment and now there was such terror in your eyes, it even left him feeling scared. 

He halts in his tracks, closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. 

He can’t walk away from you. 

So he turns back around, heart suddenly feeling heavier than ever, especially when he stands in front of your door again. It bursts open the moment he knocks on it and the sight of you crying harder than ever, makes him want to crumble to his knees and beg for forgiveness, for leaving and hurting you again. 

Your eyes are wide open, cheeks wet from the tears that don’t seem to stop falling, without a second thought, he grabs you and pulls you into his arms. You immediately wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest as you start sobbing. He closes his eyes, trying to stop his own tears. 

He holds you the way he was supposed to hold you the night you found out about her, when you cried in the room next to his. 

“I’m here,” he whispers into your hair as he holds you tightly. 

Suddenly, he feels relieved that he didn’t leave. The sound of your sobs and the feeling of you clinging to him as though you are scared that he might vanish any second, breaks his heart. 

You stand in the same spot for what feels like forever, you breathe in his scent, feel his beating heart beneath your hand, the feeling of his hand stroking your back mending your broken heart a little. 

He kisses the top of your head and squeezes your arms. 

Once you have calmed down a little, you pull back a little and raise your head to look at him. 

Eddie’s heart squeezes in his chest when his eyes meet your soft ones. 

“Eddie–”

“Don’t,” he whispers, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks, he wipes your tears away and leans down to kiss your forehead, “I don’t want to talk about it, right now.” 

“But I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He sighs, he is still hurt and upset.

“I don’t know why you would even believe her,” he mumbles, eyes still flashing with anger and hurt, “I’m still pissed but I didn’t want to leave you.” 

You nod in understanding but you can’t help but frown. 

Despite the anger that he is still feeling, he leans down to kiss your cheek, making your heart jump in your chest, “I’m sorry for leaving.” 

You try to give him a small smile but he can see the sadness in your eyes.

“You came back,” you shrug. That’s what matters. “Will you stay?” 

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows, he eyes you in concern, “I need some time to think, if that’s okay?”

You look down to hide the disappointment in your eyes but Eddie tilts your head up again, “hey, look at me, sweetheart,” he whispers, “I want you, fuck, I want you so bad and absolutely nothing could change that.” 

“Okay,” you whisper, placing your hand over his, you squeeze it, “can you stay with me until I fall asleep?” 

He smiles a little, his heart flutters. 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m gonna take a shower, real quick.” 

“Okay, I’ll wait here for you,” he whispers, pointing to the bed. 

“Okay.” 

Watching you getting ready for bed is something Eddie had missed. It’s been so long since he held you in his arms at night, it’s tempting to stay here with you, hold you and not let you go but he is still upset and angry, he doesn’t want to scare you away with it. 

But he holds you in his arms, letting you snuggle up to him, for the first time in a long time, his heart feels whole again. The feeling of your warm body pressed against his makes him feel at peace. 

He breathes in the scent of your shampoo and your body wash, strawberry and vanilla, you haven’t changed that. He watches you sleep for a while, brushing away your freshly washed hair, kissing your soft cheek. 

He admires you and stays for longer than necessary. 

‘You can leave once I’m asleep.’ 

You fell asleep an hour ago but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. He missed you so much. 

Your reaction earlier still puzzles him, why were you so scared? 

He remembers the interview in Indianapolis, the question you have gotten about your dad, about the drugs and the alcohol and he begins to wonder if what they asked was true? Is that why you were so freaked out about the possibility of him taking drugs? 

What would you do if he said yes, I am taking drugs? Would you be disgusted by him? Would you freak out even more? He wonders. Luckily, he doesn’t have to find out, he is not using any drugs. 

Eddie tucks you in carefully, pulling the blanket up higher, he kisses your forehead one more time, caressing your cheek. 

“Goodnight, my love.”

-

You wake up to an empty bed, the dingy motel room feels colder than usual. Rubbing your eyes, you look around. He left, he told you he would and yet you can’t help but feel disappointed. 

You sit up and wrap the blanket tighter around your body. Reaching for the TV remote on the nightstand, your eyes fall on the note, recognizing his hand writing right away, you pick it up. 

‘You know where to find me’ 

- Eddie 

Smiling, you hold the note in your hand, staring at it until you get interrupted by the telephone ringing, your heart jumps at the shrill sound. 

“Jesus,” you mumble, placing your hand on your chest. You reach for the phone, picking it up in confusion, “hello?”

“Good morning!” 

You peek at the clock, it’s 8:17 am in the morning. For someone who spent the night drinking and clearly staying at the hideout longer than you, Robin is already in a cheerful mood. 

“Morning,” you chuckle, “what’s up, Robin?” 

“Get ready, we’re gonna have a girls day,” she says, “I refuse to let you stay even a single day in that ugly motel room.” 

Smiling, you remove the blanket and sit up straighter, “just us two?” 

“No, we’re going shopping with Max, El and Nancy.” 

“Nancy?” you ask, “as in, Steve’s ex, Nancy?” 

“Yeah, she’s cool, don’t worry.”

“Okay.” 

“I’ll pick you up in an hour, you better be ready till then, rockstar.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” you chuckle. 

-

Now you understand why Steve was so hung up on her. Nancy Wheeler is truly something. Kind, smart, charismatic, sweet and beautiful. Her big eyes are almost puppy like, brown curls adorning her pretty face, in a way she even reminds you of Eddie even though they are nothing alike. 

You wonder if they are friends. 

You know that Steve is still friends with her and even Jonathan, the guy she left him for. You truly admire Steve and the way he is able to forgive and move on, you couldn’t do it. Especially not after loving someone as intensely as he loved her. 

But maybe it just wasn’t meant to be and he found out that the love wasn’t one to last. 

The thought makes you sad, despite what happened between you and Eddie, you want it to last but you don’t know how he feels about you, he wants you, he made that very clear but does he love you? 

Staring at Eddie’s trailer, you hear the loud music and Dustin’s laughter. While you are having a girls day, Eddie is spending the day with the boys and Steve.

You wonder if he is still upset with you, you hope not. 

“Are you excited to go back home?” 

Turning back to Nancy, you smile as you watch her eyeing you, almost nervously. 

“Honestly? No, I love being on tour, believe it or not,” you chuckle, “the guys can be annoying sometimes and sleeping on the tour bus isn’t the best but other than that, it’s fun and I kinda love it here.” 

Surprise flickers in her blue eyes, a smile tugs at her lips, “a rockstar loving a small town like Hawkins?” she asks, almost shocked. 

“Yeah, I grew up in LA, I always wondered what it’s like to live in a cute small town like this one,” you smile, “and it’s nice to see where Eddie grew up and getting to know his friends and family.” 

She nods, smiling. 

“What about you? Are you excited to be back?” you ask. 

You learned that she moved to New York with Jonathan, while she is majoring in journalism, he is majoring in photography. From what you have learned about them both, they sound like a match made in heaven. You’re glad that Steve isn’t hung up on her anymore, otherwise you would have felt bad for even thinking that. 

“Yes actually, I love New York but this is home, you know?” 

You nod, “yeah, I understand.” No, you don’t. You haven’t had a home since your dad died. 

“We will probably move back at some point.” 

“Or you could become a star journalist, I heard that your writing is pretty good,” you smile. 

She tilts her head, smiling at you, “oh?” 

“Robin told me and Will showed me a few articles you wrote for the Hawkins High newspaper, they were pretty interesting,” you chuckle, “and you wrote about Corroded Coffin, that’s pretty cool.” 

A breathy laugh falls from her lips, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Maybe you’re gonna write about the band for the New York Times someday,” you shrug. 

“The New York Times?” she asks, staring at you with wide eyes, “I was thinking the Hawkins Post maybe, I’m not sure if I’ll get that far.” 

“You gotta dream bigger, Nancy.” 

She furrows her brows, staring at you with a smile on her face. 

“You’re right,” she mumbles. 

The door opens behind you, you step out of the way just as Lucas stumbles out of his girlfriend’s house with a frown on his face. You and Nancy glance at each other with amused looks on your faces. 

“But Max–” 

“Go and have your boys day, Lucas, you aren’t one of the girls!” 

“I can be one of the girls,” he grins at Max who rolls her eyes at him. 

Robin appears behind Max, throwing her arm around the younger girl’s shoulder, “really? Do you want us to paint your nails, put makeup on your face and braid your hair?” she asks sarcastically. 

Lucas’s face scrunches up in irritation, “no, thanks.” 

“Why not?” you laugh, “I think pink fingernails would look so cool on you!” 

He turns to you, frowning at your words but he smiles, “you think?” 

El giggles as she steps out with a jacket around her shoulders, “and purple eyeshadow too,” she says.

“Yeah, I have some!” Nancy chimes in with a teasing smile on her face. 

Robin and Max snort at the horrified look on Lucas’s face. 

“Y-Yeah, no I think I’m gonna hang out with the guys instead.” He says as he begins to walk backwards. 

“We’ll make sure to buy some pink stuff for you,” you wink at him. 

He groans at your words, “I prefer blue but thanks.”

“Got it,” you chuckle. 

He blows Max a kiss, “love you!” he yells before he skips towards Eddie’s trailer. 

“Aw,” you coo as you turn to look at Max, smiling at her, “you two are literally just the cutest.” 

“Right?” Robin grins, “they are my favorite couple.” 

“Mine too,” El grins at her best friend. 

Max rolls her eyes but she can’t even hide the smile on her face as she looks at all of you.

Nancys claps her hands together, “alright well, to the mall?” 

“Yes!” El says excitedly, “I haven’t been there in forever! Have you ever been to starcourt?” She asks you. 

You open your mouth to speak but Robin beats you to it, adjusting the beanie on her head as she walks out of Max’s house, stopping next to you, “of course, Steve took her shopping,” she chuckles. 

“Steve?” Nancy asks with an amused smile on her face. 

“Yeah, gave her hair advice and everything,” she chuckles. 

You eye Nancy’s reaction closely, wondering if there may be any hidden feelings that were left behind but there is no longing in her eyes, no sadness at the mention of him. 

“Sounds like Steve,” she laughs, glancing at you, “I heard you two are getting along well.” 

Suddenly you feel nervous, maybe it’s because she is his ex-girlfriend and you don’t know how she will react to you having been intimate with her ex boyfriend or maybe she already knows. There is no judgment in her eyes, only curiosity. 

“Yeah, they are basically attached to the hip now,” Robin grins, nudging your shoulder. 

You chuckle, shaking your head, “he’s cool, I like Steve.” 

“He is cool,” she says, chuckling.

“And that’s something not everyone can say about their ex-boyfriend,” Max says. 

You and Nancy are a little awkward around each other, at first at least. You figure that someone must have told her about you and Steve. While you watched her, trying to figure out if she was upset with you and your little affair with her ex-boyfriend, she watched you, trying to figure out if you are put off by her presence, considering that she used to date the guy you might be interested in. 

The other girls didn’t notice anything and if they did, they didn’t mention it. You went through five stores at the mall so far, leaving each store with a new bag around your arm. You were mostly shopping for Christmas presents, which was a little stressful considering that half of Hawkins had the same idea. 

While both you and Nancy engaged with the others ‘normally’, you only smiled at each other awkwardly ever since Steve was brought up. Opting to give short responses whenever either of you asked any questions, there weren’t any negative feelings or mean glares, just a lot of tension and awkwardness. 

Max dragged both Robin and El into the record store, leaving you and Nancy alone in the food court after you all ate lunch together. They didn’t even ask either of you if you wanted to join. 

So they did notice.  

You and Nancy avoid each other’s eyes, choosing to watch the people around you instead but that gets awkward too, especially when a few people recognize you. 

Nancy continues to sip on her coffee, taking a moment to look at you. 

She doesn’t know much about you. Mike and El talked a lot about you when she arrived from New York last night, she was excited to meet you, especially after her conversation with Steve this morning when he arrived at the trailer park at the same time as she did. 

There was a certain glint in his eyes when he mentioned you, his eyes lit up and he was excited to talk about you, a happy smile lingered on his face, that was the happiest she had seen him.

She clears her throat, placing both elbows on her table, she takes a deep breath. 

“Hey uhm, you know, if you want to be with Steve then you should totally go for it. We dated when I was a freshman in high school, that’s a long time ago, there aren’t any types of feelings anymore, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me or anything,” she trails off. 

You raise your brows and raise your head to look at her, you search for the dishonesty in her eyes but there is none, a small smile is resting on her face. 

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me?” you test, still unsure about what she knows. 

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, curls bouncing as she does so, “not at all!” she exclaims, “I just wasn’t sure how you felt about me, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Steve but when I first started dating him, I hated every girl that dated him before me,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. 

You chuckle at her words. Understandable. 

“Don’t worry, I don’t hate you at all, just thought that you may feel weird around me,” you pause, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes, “I don’t know what you know but Steve and I are just–” you pause, trying to find the right words without making it awkward again. 

“Friends with benefits?” She asks, amused. 

You purse your lips, cupping your cheek as you lean your elbow on the table, “I uh.. how did you know?” 

“I didn’t,” she replies proudly as she takes another sip of her coffee, “but you just admitted it.” 

You laugh at her words, shaking your head, “see, you were born to be a journalist, no journalist has ever got me to admit anything before.” 

“Thank you,” she chuckles, “so just friends, huh?” she asks, eyes flashing with concern when she thinks about the way Steve looked when he talked about you. 

You shrug, a faint and sad smile lingering on your face, she seems concerned and sad, almost as though she knows something you don’t. 

“Yeah, why?” you ask, curiously, “d-did he say anything?” 

She blinks, blue eyes staring at you with sympathy when she sees the worry in your big eyes, “I talked to him this morning at the trailer park,” she explains, “he uh, he talked about you and seemed really happy and excited, he had that look in his eyes, so I thought that there might be more between you,” she says, “I just, I haven’t seen him like that in a long time so I thought that you two are.. dating?” 

Your heart drops and you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe. You swallow harshly, blinking as you continue to stare at her dumbfounded. You and Steve are friends, nothing more, right? 

He is your friend, you can confidently say that he is just your friend, you adore him, you feel safe with him, you like him a lot and it’s nice to be with him but that’s all, your heart belongs to another. 

But what about him? 

How does he feel about you? Are you just his friend? Or does he see you as something more? 

Steve took you out on dates, he let you wear his clothes, he let you sleep in his bed, he told you that he would date you, he asked you to spend Christmas with him and his parents, he treats you the way a.. oh god… 

You have been in a friends with benefits situation before, a guitarist from some small band in LA. You became friends, made music together and then became something more, it wasn’t anything special though. You fucked him, he fucked you, you explored each other’s bodies and experimented a little and that’s all. 

He never took you out on dates and he certainly never asked you to spend Christmas with him and his family. 

You were friends with benefits, that’s all. 

But Steve.. Oh no.. 

That sick feeling that you have felt when you found out about Chrissy is suddenly back and you feel like throwing up. 

Does he have feelings for you? God, you hope not. You like him so much and he quickly earned a place in your heart and the thought of breaking his heart makes you hate yourself. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Nancy asks in concern, placing her soft delicate hand over yours. 

You nod, forcing a smile on your face, “yeah, I’m okay,” you say, “d-do you uh wanna go look for some jewelry now?” you ask in desperation for a distraction. 

“Yes, let’s go!” 

-

After hours of playing a game, Steve never even came to like, he finally got some fresh air after dropping the boys off at their houses. As much as he tried to get into Dungeons and Dragons, he just couldn’t find himself enjoying it but it was fun to see Eddie so enthusiastic and happy to get back into the game after so long, though he wasn’t the DM this time, it’s Will. 

Instead of walking back into the trailer to help Eddie clean up, he takes a moment to take a breather. Shoving his hands into the large pockets of his jacket, he leans against his BMW and looks up, not a single star is shining in the dark evening sky tonight. He lowers his head and turns around, glancing at the empty parking lot in Max’s driveway. Nancy must have left already, he wonders if Robin left too. You are still there, he told you that he would drop you off at the motel. 

After last night, he was worried and a little on edge. He hasn’t had the chance to talk to you yet, he couldn’t ask if what Chrissy said about your dad was the truth or if she just picked out the most talked about rumor from the gossip magazines to get under your skin. 

Given your reaction and how shocked and scared you looked, he figures it was the truth. 

It must have been so hard for you to find him dead on the bathroom floor with that disgusting needle sticking in his skin.

Just the thought of it makes him feel sick, the thought of you finding him like this, the thought of you having suffered so much already. 

Steve cares about you, more so than he thought before last night and he realized it when he came home and slept in his bed without you there. 

What a fool he is, he thinks to himself. 

Of course he had to get attached to you, the girl that loves his best friend. 

The sound of the door slamming shut, startles him. He looks up, finding Eddie walking down the steps of his trailer, with a cigarette placed between his lips already, he flicks the lighter a few times, lighting the cigarette as he leans against Steve’s car as well. 

“Not your day, huh?” Eddie smirks, eying the grumpy look on Steve’s face. 

Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes at him, “you know it, this game sucks,” he grumbles.

“To you,” Eddie shrugs. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, looking away. 

Eddie frowns at him, tilting his head, he eyes him slowly, “what’s up with you, today? You’re acting weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“Yeah, like you’re here but at the same time you’re not.” 

Steve shudders nervously as his eyes meet Eddie’s again. 

“The game is boring.” 

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, you’ve said that before but that’s not it, you look..” he pauses, taking a drag from his cigarette, he blows out the smoke as he stares at him, “I don’t know.. sad?”

Steve scoffs, trying to force a smile on his face, he shakes his head, “I’m not sad.” 

Eddie is suspicious though, Steve is an open book to him and the sadness is written all over his face. The look of yearning and heartbreak somewhere deep in his eyes, he hasn’t seen that look ever since Nancy. 

“Wait,” he mumbles, eyes widening, “you’re not still hung up on Wheeler, are you?”

“What? No!” 

Eddie sighs in relief, the memory of Steve’s suffering after she left him is still stuck in his mind and it breaks even his heart. 

“I’m not hung up on her,” Steve chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, “she’s my friend now and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

There’s no dishonesty behind his words, he is saying the truth, Eddie can tell. 

“So, you’re hung up on some other girl?” Eddie asks. 

Steve’s silence is an answer itself. 

“Did some girl stand you up?” Eddie asks, still eying him warily. There is a different question lingering but he doesn’t dare to ask, it makes him nervous. 

“The only girl I’ve been with since Indianapolis was y/n,” Steve says without thinking. His breath hitches in his throat and he stiffens when he realizes what he just said. 

Eddie freezes, eyes widening and a mixture of anger and sadness flooding through him. He throws his cigarette into the snow, watching the flame die down. 

“Are you hung up on her?” Eddie asks with a hint of bitterness in his voice, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve, it causes him to tense up even more. 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, taking a deep breath, he sighs nervously as he feels his eyes on him again. 

“I-I don’t know, I didn’t want this,” he explains, trying to find the right words, “we haven’t known each other for long, can’t say I’m hung up on her but just being with her made me realize that I miss having someone, not just anyone but she’s… I don’t know.. she’s–”

“She’s amazing.” 

Steve turns to look at him, their eyes lock and for a moment, Eddie is not his friend that is standing before him, he is the man that broke your heart, the man that hurt you, the man that lied to you for so long but he is also the man that you love and there is no way that he or anyone else could ever compete with him, not that he wants to. You and Steve are nothing but friends, you settled on that from the very beginning and yet, he found himself lying awake all night, craving for more than just friendship.

“So what,” Eddie speaks up, angrily, “you love her?” 

Steve’s go wide at the question and he finds himself shaking his head, “we’ve only known each other for a few weeks–”

“I’ve loved her from the moment I first saw her.” 

“What?” 

Steve didn’t know how Eddie feels about you, he only knows how you feel about him. While you confessed your love for Eddie, Eddie has never talked about you in a way that could make him think that he has feelings for you, sure he adores you and he cares about you a lot, that is obvious but considering that Eddie let Steve take you out on dates, he didn’t think that his feelings are that deep. 

“I love her, Steve.” 

Steve stares at Eddie, not knowing what to say. 

“Oh..” he whispers, staring at him in confusion, “b-but why didn’t you say anything before?” 

“Say what?” Eddie asks, furrowing his brows. 

“I asked you if I could take her out on a date and I..uh–”

“You had sex with her? Yeah, I know,” Eddie says bitterly. 

Steve swallows and looks away nervously, he scratches the back of his neck, “yeah.. why did you say it was okay for me to do that?”

Eddie shrugs, “I didn’t think that I still had a chance with her, she likes you and I can’t stop her from seeing other people, she is not.. mine.” And Eddie prefers you to see Steve than any other man but he doesn’t need to know that. 

Steve can’t even help but snort at his words, “right,” he mumbles in annoyance. 

“What?” 

“She is yours, Eddie,” he breathes, “trust me, this girl is all yours. She looks at you like you hung the fucking moon and it almost seems like she’s whole only when she’s with you.” 

Eddie’s eyes soften at his words, a warm feeling settling in his chest and in his stomach but he also feels that sick feeling of jealousy when he sees the bitterness in Steve’s eyes, who wishes that he was in Eddie’s place. 

“You got a problem with that?” Eddie asks, irritating the man in front of him. 

Steve is quiet for a moment, staring into Eddie’s dark eyes with a scowl on his face. 

“You know what?” he mumbles, “I do have a problem with that. I know you didn’t have it easy with Chrissy, she hurt you so many times and the things she did were just.. fucked up,” he sighs, “but what you did to her, that was fucked up too, you lied to her for months and when she found out about Chrissy, you weren’t even there to try and fix it, you took Chrissy back to your room and slept with her while she was probably crying her eyes out.” 

Eddie’s eyes flash with guilt, his jaw locks and he can’t even stop the anger from rising in him. 

“I didn’t sleep with Chrissy.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “you still spent the night with her, I don’t care what you did in there but you were with her, while y/n was all alone, probably not understanding what was happening.” 

Eddie feels guilty, he always will, that night is something he will always regret. Nothing happened between him and Chrissy but Steve was right, you were crying your eyes out, your broken sobs are something that will always linger in the back of his mind. Steve is right. 

And yet, he gets angry and defensive. 

“Yeah and then her knight in shining armor appeared out of nowhere and made her forget about all the pain with his big dick,” Eddie snorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “I hope you at least made her cum.” 

“Dude,” Steve grumbles, scrunching his face up in annoyance, his cheeks grow red though. 

“You did make her cum, right?” Eddie asks, still bitterness in his voice but curiosity in his eyes, “or were you not able to make her cum?” Eddie teases, “is your dick not as big as the rumors–”

“You know what? Yes, I did make her cum, over and over again, I had her screaming my name!” Steve exclaims with a dark look in his eyes. 

Eddie’s hands clench into fists and he frowns in anger, cheeks burning red. 

Steve smirks at him though, “bet you never had her like that, huh?” He asks, “I fucked her so hard she probably forgot about her love for you.” 

“Must’ve not been hard enough cause she still wants me.” 

Steve shrugs, smiling at him, cockily, “guess I gotta fuck her a little harder then.” 

His words shoot hot rage and jealousy through Eddie. 

“She’s mine.”

“And yet, I’m the one she has sex with.” 

Eddie’s eyes twitch as he stares at his best friend in anger, Steve has a satisfied smile on his face, knowing he won the argument. Both men stare each other down, not noticing your presence.

You scratch the back of your neck, looking back at Max’s house before you turn back around to look at Eddie and Steve who seem to be in a staredown. Why? You don’t know. 

You clear your throat and almost instantly, they both turn to face you. 

There you are, standing here with an awkward smile on your face as your eyes dart back in forth, between them. Steve raises his brows as he eyes you up and down and Eddie’s lips part in surprise. 

Your big coat engulfs you in it’s warmth but there is no way that your legs are not freezing. Your skirts seem to be getting shorter, despite the cold weather. The tights you are wearing are black but see through. Chunky boots on your feet and a deep red scarf around your neck, matching the color of your lips, red lips. Eddie loves when you wear red lipstick. 

The wind blows through your hair, your bangs fall in front of your eyes, you squeeze your legs together, rolling your shoulders as you shiver. 

You look so damn cute but you also look dangerous and so fucking sexy. 

“Hi,” you smile, waving your freshly manicured fingers at them. A shiver runs down your spine when you notice the gazes in their eyes; hunger, desire, lust but also a sense of softness. 

They both greet you with quiet mumbles. 

“Will you take me home?” you ask Steve.

“Y-Yeah sure, let’s go,” he mumbles. 

“Okay,” you chuckle, still eying them, you furrow your brows. There is tension between them, both men have red cheeks, Steve has a smug look on his face, while Eddie seems frustrated and annoyed. 

You walk over to the passenger side of the car but before you can even reach for the door handle, Eddie jumps forward. 

“Wait!” Eddie almost yells, making you flinch in surprise, “can I talk to you?” 

“Uh.. yeah, sure.” 

“Come in?” he asks, gesturing to the trailer. 

You nod, an excited smile appears on your face, you haven’t seen his home yet, only in pictures. You rush towards him, smiling as your eyes lock. He stretches his hand out for you and he almost melts when you take it, squeezing it. 

He glances at Steve, winking at the man who rolls his eyes. 

Eddie leads you into the trailer, opening the door for you, he eyes the back of your skirt as you walk in, almost groaning, there is no way that you haven’t flashed anyone with that short thing today. 

He follows you inside, too distracted by you to notice that Steve followed suit, smirking at him. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, frowning at his friend, he puts his hands on his chest, about to kick him out when the phone in his room starts ringing. Steve slaps his hands off his chest and shuts the door behind him. 

Once again, both men stare each other down, ignoring the annoying sound of the telephone. Meanwhile, you don’t pay attention to them at all, staring at Wayne’s collection of mugs in awe. 

“You should pick up the phone, Eddie,” Steve says. 

He glares at his friend, clenching his jaw. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll be right back,” he announces before he rushes through the hallway and into his room, already annoyed with whoever is calling him. 

You shrug off your coat and your scarf, placing it on the couch. You intertwine your fingers together, a content smile on your face as you eye all the different mugs. A few pictures catch your attention. There’s some of Eddie and Wayne, one of just Eddie, when he was younger. 

And then your eyes fall on the picture of Eddie and Steve. Steve’s arm is wrapped around Eddie’s shoulder, smiling, while Eddie grins into the camera. Your smile falls a little as you think about your conversation with Nancy. 

What if Steve does have feelings for you? 

Will that ruin your friendship? Will that ruin his friendship with Eddie? 

You flinch as you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you back into his chest, he ducks his face, pressing his lips against your neck as he pulls your hair back. Your breath hitches in your throat and your heartbeat quickens. 

You don’t know where you both stand, now that you and Eddie are getting closer again, you don’t know what will happen to your arrangement with Steve. 

“You look so pretty, honey,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Steve…” you whisper with a warning tone. 

Steve is kissing you. 

Steve is kissing you in Eddie’s trailer. 

“S-Stop..” you whisper as your heart begins to pound in your chest. You can hear Eddie’s voice, he is talking to someone on the phone, Dustin, he mentions his name. 

Steve only tightens his grip on your waist and continues to kiss your neck. You can’t even stop the sigh from escaping and he smirks against your neck, you can feel it. 

“Steve, no..” 

“No?” he mumbles, letting go of you, he parts from your neck, before you can even react, he turns you around and grabs your face, he smashes his lips against yours. Your eyes widen, squealing at the action, you place your hands on his arms, noticing that he took his jacket off as well. His eyes are closed and he is kissing you in a needy way. 

You panic at the thought of Eddie walking back to see this. 

“What the–” 

Your heart drops to your stomach when you hear Eddie’s angry voice, fear rushes through you and your eyes well up with tears. Just as you’re about to push Steve away from you, something else happens. 

Ringed fingers reach for your waist, grabbing you tightly, you are suddenly yanked back, gone is Steve’s touch, his lips are no longer on yours and you manage to catch a glimpse of the annoyed look on his face before a different pair of lips are smashed against yours. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you realize that Eddie is kissing you. 

Eddie is kissing you after Steve just kissed you. 

His eyes are closed and he cups your cheeks tightly, kissing you roughly yet passionately. Your heart is still racing, your skin is tingling, you feel more confused than ever but melt into his touch so easily. 

You can’t remember the last time you have been kissed by him and god, you have missed him. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you sigh in content as you respond to his kiss, the tension in your body disappears almost instantly, his thumb lingers on your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss. 

Moaning, you press yourself against him, throwing your arms around his neck. 

Eddie’s heart is racing, everything inside of him screams in joy. You are kissing him. He feels emotional, he feels like melting into a puddle, he missed this, he missed you so fucking much. Suddenly, everything feels lighter again. 

Your tongues meet and with that the kiss grows rougher, more passionately. Anger and possessiveness is what he mostly feels when he senses Steve’s presence behind you. He opens his eyes as you part from each other. Your eyes are big, filled with longing and desire, your red lipstick is smudged around your plump lips, he smirks at you, about to grab your chin and pull you in for another kiss but the man behind you beats him to it. 

Steve grabs your chin and turns you around, smirking at Eddie before he slams his lips back against yours. You don’t know how to react but given that Eddie didn’t kick you or Steve out, you guess that he is fine with it, so you close your eyes and kiss Steve. He turns you towards him so your chest is pressed against his. 

Eddie watches you with darkened eyes, he wants to rip him off of you, take you to his room and show you who you belong to and yet, he feels intrigued. 

Intrigued to see how you respond to Steve’s touches, how he can make you feel. Can he make you feel better? 

His dick twitches in his pants when you whimper into the kiss, his stomach flutters as he watches wide eyed. His gaze softens when you reach your hand back, searching for him. He takes your hand and brings it up to your front, placing your hand on your stomach, he presses his above yours. He steps closer and closer, until his front is right against your back. 

His lips latch onto your neck and he begins to suck on your sensitive skin, listening to your moans and whimpers in content. 

Through his bangs, he glances at the man in front of him, who is looking at him already, the lust is so evident in his eyes, he looks at him smugly as he kisses you. Eddie’s girl.

You raise your arm and reach behind you, putting your hand in his hair, you tug at it, earning a loud moan from the man behind you. The sloppy sounds of his lips smacking against your neck and Steve’s moans make your stomach flutter, you squeeze your thighs together when you feel your cunt clenching around nothing. 

God, what is wrong with you? Making out with two men? But it feels so good, you can’t even help but want more. 

A needy whimper tears from your throat when Steve shoves your thighs apart, pushing his hand under your skirt, you gasp and break from the kiss when he tears your tights open. 

You and Eddie stare at him wide eyed as you stop all your movements. 

He smirks, pressing his fingers against your clothed pussy, he groans when he feels how soaked your panties are, “christ.. you’re so fucking wet, honey,” he moans, eyes locking with Eddie’s, who stares at him with mixed emotions in his eyes, “you wanna feel how wet she is, Munson?” 

Eddie nods, like a dumbfounded fool. Slipping his hand down your stomach, your stomach tenses and a breathy sigh leaves your lips when Steve teases your clit with his fingers. 

Steve chuckles at Eddie, just as gets close to Steve’s hand, the man slaps it away, “I forgot, I’m the only one who’s allowed to touch her like that.” 

Eddie frowns at his words, anger flashing in his dark eyes. 

“Steve–”

Steve pecks your lips, smirking at your disheveled form, “shh, let me have this,” he whispers, he glances at Eddie again, “you wanted to know if I can make her cum?” 

You furrow your brows, parting your lips, “what– oh….” you throw your head back against Eddie’s chest, letting your hand fall from his hair, you grab his hand again, squeezing it, unknowingly giving him comfort. Steve pushes your panties to the side, calloused fingers moving through your wet folds. 

“Fuck…” you moan, closing your eyes, “E-Eddie…” 

His heart flutters in his chest as his name rolls off your tongue so desperately, your hand clutching his. 

His erection is straining against the stiff material of his jeans, begging for release, you feel him, all of him and he knows it because you arch your back and press your ass against his dick. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, “baby..” 

“Kiss me, Eddie,” you whimper, “please..” 

Steve looks down at you, watching as you tilt your head to meet Eddie’s lips. You kiss each other sloppily, desperately. Both moaning in pleasure. You bring your free hand to Steve’s belt, tugging him closer, you surprise him by placing your hand on his dick, palming him through his jeans, causing him to moan. 

He slips a finger inside you, moaning again when he feels how wet you are for him and Eddie. 

“Mhmmm,” you whimper against Eddie’s lips. 

You break the kiss and Eddie instantly goes back to your neck, sucking and biting on it, he looks down, watching Steve’s hand move under your skirt. 

“Fuck….” you whimper as he adds another finger, scissoring them inside of you and stretching you open, “S-Steve… oh my god, feels so good.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, “do I make you feel good, baby?” 

“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper, not understanding what is happening.

Your senses are heightened and you feel everything more intensely than usual. Your heart is racing, your skin is prickling, you want Eddie, you want Steve, what is happening?

You catch the glances between them, the smug look in Steve’s eyes as he looks at the man behind you but you are too distracted by his touch to ponder over the questions that are forming in your mind already. 

Eddie moans, his hands reach up to cup your boobs, he squeezes them and smirks when he tears another moan from you. 

“You sound so pretty, baby,” Eddie whispers into your ear, “feels so good to kiss you again,” he kisses the spot behind your ear. 

Steve begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, admiring the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, plump lips parted as you moan. He leans down, kissing your lips again and again and again as he fucks your tight pussy with his long fingers. He keeps his lips pressed against your parted lips, watching you smugly as you look up at him with pleading, big eyes, whimpering into his mouth. 

He can’t even help but mock you softly, “these are just my fingers, baby.” 

He curls them inside of you, pulling another loud moan out of you. 

“Mhmm.”

“Do you feel good, sweetheart?” 

“Mhmm, want you…. t-to touch me too,” you stutter. 

“Oh, yeah?” he murmurs, giving Steve a sly smirk, who rolls his eyes at him. 

“P-Please.. Eddie.” 

At this point both men are fighting over who can make you moan more, giving each other smirks and glares, you moan for both of them though. Throwing your head back and arching your back in pleasure, touching them over their clothes as Eddie marks you up and Steve continues to finger your soaked pussy, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“I love your tight little pussy,” Steve groans, “I would do anything to fuck you and fill you up with my cock,” he husks as he leans his forehead against yours. His cheek is pressed against the side of Eddie’s face, both men panting and moaning as you try your best to make them feel good too. 

You whimper needily and even Eddie moans at his words as he thinks about it. 

You can’t even utter any words anymore, too sensitive. You close your eyes, keeping your head against Eddie’s chest, who continues to hold you and kiss you. 

Steve pulls his wet fingers out of you, causing you to whine, “E-Eddie.. Steve..” 

Your walls flutter around nothing and you buck your hips into his hand, pleading eyes meeting his dark ones, “p-please..” 

Steve slaps your pussy, earning another whimper for you, “you hear that, Eddie?” He asks, repeating the action again, “can you hear how wet she is?” 

Eddie tightens his grip on you in response, trying to keep himself from cumming in his pants, “fuck yes… baby, you want my fingers now?” Eddie asks, hopefully. 

“Yes–”

“Dream on, Munson,” Steve snorts before he fills you up with his fingers again, continuing to fuck you with them again. 

Your knees buckle you are sure, you would’ve dropped to the floor if it wasn’t for Eddie’s hold on you. 

“I got you, darling,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear, “just let go for us, yeah?” 

Darling. 

Your eyes snap open and suddenly, you feel overwhelmed. A weird knot settles in the pit of your stomach and your eyes well up with tears, not from pleasure but from something else. 

What is this? 

Eddie can’t see your face but Steve does and he looks concerned, the cocky look on his face is gone and all there is worry and fear, “h-hey, are you okay?” he asks softly. 

Eddie tenses up, brows pulling together as he straightens up, looking at you with worry in his eyes. 

“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper as you clench around Steve’s fingers, “please don’t stop.”

Steve begins to press soft kisses to your face, caressing your body with his free hand, “we got you, pretty girl.” He whispers. 

You nod and close your eyes, moans getting high pitched as you clench around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he groans, “are you close, baby?” 

“Mhmmm, please, I’m gonna cum…”

Their awestruck expressions make it all even better when you come undone, gushing around Steve’s fingers, your beautiful whines and whimpers echo through the room. 

You breathe heavily, chest rising up and down as content sighs continue to fall from your lips. Eddie kisses your neck slowly. 

Steve pecks your lips again as he pulls his fingers out of you, smirking at the needy whine. He fixes your panties, putting them back in place before he brings his fingers up to Eddie’s face, who’s eyes widen when he sees how soaked they are, almost dripping off his fingers. Eddie is ready to take the other man’s fingers into his mouth just to taste you but Steve gives him a cocky smile and pulls them back, slipping them into his mouth, he closes his eyes and moans at your sweet taste. 

Both yours and Eddie’s eyes widen as you watch him. 

And before you know it, Eddie cups the back of Steve’s neck and pulls him closer, smashing his lips against and kissing him roughly just to taste you. 

Your eyes widen, something between a gasp and a needy whine falling from your lips as you watch them. Your stomach flutters, eyes lighting up as you watch them kiss. You have to squeeze your thighs together, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve as he still has his thigh shoved between yours. 

Steve smirks into the kiss and Eddie moans, your taste driving him crazy. 

This isn’t something you ever saw coming but you cannot complain, something about the sight of them kissing, makes you weak in the knees and they almost give out but you hold onto both men, continuing to watch them with an awestruck expression on your face. 

Eddie pulls away first, flushed cheeks, dark eyes and messy hair, making him look even more attractive. He looks down at you, a cute and lazy smirk tugging at his lips when he sees the look in your eyes, he grabs your cheeks, squeezing them as he leans down to kiss you. His lips are soft on yours, he cradles your face in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter. 

And as you part from him again, you meet his soft gaze and it only draws you back again, pecking his lips softly, enjoying the bliss but as you all come back to reality, you suddenly feel flustered and embarrassed. 

Moments of silence finally give you the opportunity to allow the questions and thoughts back in. 

You fix your skirt and clear your throat, touching the corners of your mouth, you hopefully wipe the lipstick away that you left behind on their lips. You look between them, both men are staring at each other now. You try to read them, you try to read their eyes and suddenly your heart feels heavy and your eyes well up with tears once again as you watch them communicating with their eyes. 

What is this? You ask yourself, yet again. 

As the haze begins to fade more and more, your chest begins to hurt. What were they talking about before you interrupted them? What led them to do this?

You look at Eddie through the tears in your eyes and wonder why he did this? Yesterday, he couldn’t even stand the thought of Steve touching you and now he just let him and even joined in? 

Does he not want you anymore? Did you break his trust last night when you believed her or is this a game to him, to them? Are you some pawn in their game? 

You find yourself wanting to run away again, the sickness in your stomach getting so overwhelming, you walk back to the couch on wobbly feet, reaching for your jacket and your scarf, you put both items on hastily. 

There is no anger in you left, just sadness, pain and numbness after everything that happened. You don’t even feel the tears running down your cheeks. 

Once they hear your quiet sniffles, they snap their heads towards you, eyes filling with concern and panic. 

Eddie whispers your name, looking at the back of your head, he sees you wiping your cheeks before you turn around, not looking at either of them as you walk towards the door. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, eyes widening when he sees the state that you are in, “w-what’s wrong?” he asks, stepping in front of you to stop you from leaving. 

“Sweetheart–”

“What was that?” you ask them, looking between them with a broken and scared look in your eyes. 

They are too slow to catch on, staring at you like deers caught in headlights, not realizing that they are making it worse by staying silent. 

“Please tell me this wasn’t some sick joke.” 

Steve’s eyes flash with confusion, his brows draw together as he stares at you. 

Eddie’s eyes widen and he shakes his head a little. 

But neither of them speak up, neither of them assure you that it’s not what you think it was. 

You stare at them and they stare at you, the silence between you is so loud it almost causes your ears to ring. 

Maybe you are overreacting or maybe not, maybe you have all the reasons to feel that way, to think that of them. 

Maybe you are just sensitive and overly emotional after everything that happened between you and Eddie and after your conversation with Chrissy. Chrissy who knows about what happened to your Dad, somehow. 

Or maybe you just don’t trust anyone or anything anymore. 

You don’t even trust yourself. 

And they can see it, they can see right through you. They can see the distrust, the fear, the insecurity, the sadness and yet, they don’t utter a single word. They don’t do anything to reassure you that this wasn’t a game to them, that they didn’t use you. 

Eddie tries to reach out to you but you step back, he expects you to get angry again but you only shake your head, sadly. 

“It’s fine,” you whisper, unable to look into his eyes, “I’ll talk to you guys later.” 

Eddie’s big eyes are filled with sadness when he realizes what goes on inside your head. 

“Sweetheart, please don’t go,” he whisper. 

But you can’t even look at him, you wipe your tears and turn around, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Before either of them can stop you, you rush out and slam the door behind you and disappear into the night. 

-

only tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @aftermidnightwriting @sherrylyn628 @yearwalker96

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[querenciasturniolo]

done ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1k

warnings: angst, swearing, uncomfortable conversation, crying, panic attack

summary: matt has been distant since the triplets moved to LA, and you’re determined to find out why, even if it means the two of you are done

a/n: angst has always been difficult for me to write, but i hope i did it justice 🤞🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

requested: yes (: @floofparker i hope this works!

Things between you and Matt had been rocky for a while.

His texts had been few and far between, and drier than they’ve ever been. You’d talked to Chris and Nick, asking them if everything was alright with Matt. They’d told you that being away from Boston was hard, and the distance could have been fucking with him, but that he hadn’t said anything to them. All of this led you to where you were now; sitting on their couch and waiting for Matt to get home to see him.

Nick and Chris had already gone to their rooms, but Matt had yet to make an appearance.

“He’s taking a drive, he should be back soon.” Nick had told you, a strange feeling swirling in your gut the longer you waited. It wasn’t until the front door opened and you heard him walking up the stairs that your heart started racing.

Every atom in your body was on high alert as you finally saw him. He hadn’t noticed you yet, going about taking his keys off of his belt loop and throwing them on the table. You had missed him so much, but seeing him made the hurt you were feeling more intense.

“Matt.”

His whole body jerked and he finally faced you with his hand on his chest. “Jesus Christ, Y/n?” He said, his eyes wide as his eyes met yours. “What are you doing here?”

You took in a shaky breath and pushed yourself off of the couch. “I wanted to see you—wanted to talk to you.” You said, your voice coming out uneven. Matt nodded, a forced smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug. The hug was uncomfortable to say the least, as if he was only doing it because he was obligated. You pulled away and wrapped your arms around yourself.

“What’s wrong?”

You sighed and shook your head, trying your best to keep it together. “What’s going on, Matty?” You asked, almost wincing at the nickname. You hadn’t called him that since you were kids, but you couldn’t help it. Him practically pretending you didn’t exist since he’d been in LA was hard, it was one of the hardest things you’d ever experienced.

Matt sighed, and you could tell this conversation wasn’t going to go well. “What do you mean?”

You turned and headed back to the couch, patting the cushion next to you without looking up. The couch dipped from where he was sitting, and you sighed and looked up at him. Your eyes were burning and hot, the knot in your throat near excruciating as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

“Do you even want me anymore?”

Matt was silent, his face void of any emotion as he stared down at the table. It felt like a thousand pound weight was laying on your chest, your eyes closing as the tears you’d been fighting finally slipped through and rolled down your cheeks. He didn’t speak, but his silence was enough.

A shaky sigh left your lips, your mouth completely dry as you aggressively wiped at your cheeks and pushed yourself off of the couch. You needed to get away from him, you couldn’t breathe. The moment his hand gripped your arm, you lost it.

“Y/n, wait—“

You turned around, your breathing labored as you pulled your arm away from his grasp.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You asked, your voice sounding so desperate as you tried to level your breathing. Tears were pooling in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair.

“I-I…I don’t know, I didn’t know how. You were just so far away, I couldn’t stand missing you so I just stopped trying.” He said, his voice rough with emotion. You couldn’t tell if the heaviness in your chest was heartbreak or panic.

Fuck, you couldn’t breathe.

You had backed yourself into the wall to get some distance between the two of you, your whole body shaking as you stared at the floor. You were frozen, your fight or flight going haywire as you avoided looking at him. Your breaths came in and out as short bursts, your throat aching at the force.

“Y/n, baby, breathe.” Matt said, his voice sounding too close and too far away all at once. Suddenly, his arms were wrapped around you, the embrace tight to keep you from shaking so violently. The weight on your chest dissipated little by little, the heartache stubbornly staying as the panic slowly went away.

“What did I do wrong?” You whispered, your voice broken and pathetic as Matt’s grip tightened.

“Nothing, you didn't do anything wrong. I should have just talked to you.” He replied, his voice almost quieter than yours.

“Are we…is this done?”

Matt sighed into your hair, you felt the movement of him shaking his head. “I don’t want it to be, I can fix this.” He said, his shoulders relaxing as you finally wrapped your arms around him. “Fuck, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry.”

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like ages, leveling your breathing and clinging to each other for dear life. You pulled away first, but not completely, using your hands to wipe the stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks.

“Just talk to me, please. I…I need you to talk to me from now on.” You said, Matt nodding as he closed his eyes and rested his head against your hold. You were exhausted, your body and head heavy with all of the emotions you’d just flown through. Matt opened his eyes then, studying your features intently before he spoke. He was good at reading you, he always has been.

“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” He said, immediately going to pull away. You shook your head and pulled away completely. You lightly grabbed his hand, a slight shake to yours as you walked towards his bedroom. He followed behind you, a few sniffles from the both of you breaking through the silence.

You dropped onto the mattress and pulled him down, wrapping your arms around him the moment he was comfortable. He pulled the comforter out from under the two of you and pulled it up to your shoulders. You knew the two of you would have to really talk about this in the morning, but you couldn’t stand the idea of sleeping in his bed without his warmth.

The only thing you processed was the soft kiss pressed to the top of your head and the gentle movement of his fingertips dancing along your arm before sleep fully consumed you.

[demonpiratehuntress]

hurt for long

OPLA!Zoro x Reader

Summary - Every time you go to a certain island, you're used by a guy you think genuinely likes you. This time you go with Zoro, and when that guy hurts you yet again, the green-haired swordsman is there to pick up the pieces.

Warning - cussing, violence (a little, but it's Zoro), he may be OOC a little but it fits the plot

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"Don't you think for a minute he's irreplaceable

I know he hurt you, but it won't hurt for long

Hurt for long

He thinks you're out of options

You're 'bout to prove him wrong

'Cause I'm right here making sure you don't hurt for long

Hurt for long"

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"What's so nice about this island?"

You looked at the dark-haired sharpshooter next to you as leaned against the railing of the ship, your gaze previously on the upcoming stretch of land. You let out a sigh, trying to calm your nerves which were clearly showing. But you felt too excited.

"I'm just excited to see someone."

"Oooooh," Usopp teased, "(Name)'s got a boyfriend."

The timing could not have been worse, because your closest crewmate - and secret crush, but that's a long story - was about to join you and Usopp. However, when those words met his ears, he changed his mind. He was not going to stand and listen to you gush about the nobody you liked, because it wasn't him.

You didn't notice, your cheeks reddening, "He's not my boyfriend! Just a...friend with benefits, of sorts."

Zoro's annoyance quickly grew, and he almost accidentally shoved a passing Sanji overboard while storming away from the deck. He didn't know why he felt so protective, so possessive, because it was clear you weren't into him (at least in his mind), but he couldn't help it. He'd tried so hard to stop these feelings, unsuccessfully. And now he had to deal with your affections lying elsewhere, with some stupid guy on some stupid island and-

"We're here!"

You were bounding off the ship as soon as it was moored, and already running into the village without waiting for anyone. Nami and Sanji - the only two who were aware of Zoro's feelings, much to his irritation - looked at him. He turned away, trying to appear unaffected, but none of them missed the way his fists clenched.

By the time the rest of the crew had caught up with you, however, Zoro's anger and frustration was immediately replaced with heartbreak and concern.

You were dejectedly walking back the way you came, hugging yourself with tears streaming down your face. Your quiet sniffles were not as quiet as you intended them to be, and upon hearing them Zoro's heart sunk.

"(Name), what happened?!" Nami was the first to reach you, grabbing your arms and pulling you aside.

"I don't want to talk about it," you replied quietly, a fresh round of tears slipping down your face. "Can we just go?"

"What did he do?"

All eyes turned to the green-haired swordsman, anger burning in his eyes. One hand was on his swords, as if he was preparing to slide one out and slice whoever hurt you into ribbons.

"How did you-" You looked up at him, but he cut you off.

"What. Did. He. Do?"

"Please don't do anything stupid," you pleaded, but told him anyway. Out of everyone on the crew, you were closest to Zoro. You couldn't stop yourself from telling him anything and everything, even if you tried.

"I'm going to kill him."

"No, Zoro!"

Before you could lunge at him to stop him, he was gone. You cursed yourself for mentioning which house it was, and the rest of you ran as fast as you could to chase down your aggressive crewmate.

But when Zoro was out for blood, he usually got it.

By the time you all reached the house, Zoro was standing over the guy with his boot pressed down hard on the coward's chest, with him whimpering and begging to be freed. One of Zoro's katanas was pointed directly at his nose, and he was going squint trying to keep his eyes on it. You were about to say something, when you heard the words spilling from the swordsman's mouth.

"You dumb fuck," he hissed, "Do you even realise what you have done? You had all of her attention, all of her affection, and you go and fuck it up? How could you settle for that whore upstairs when you had the prettiest woman already? Bastard."

Your heart fluttered at those words - some of them, anyway. He thought you were the prettiest? He yearned for your love and attention? You had been so busy trying to ignore your feelings for him and project them onto someone else, that you had never made room for the possibility he might like you back. Now you felt guilty, and started to cry all over again.

"Zoro," Nami warned. "Let's go."

He looked up to see you standing there with Nami, all the fire in his eyes extinguishing at the sight of you. His expression softened, and within seconds he had his sword sheathed and you in his arms. You tried to protest, saying you could walk, but his next words made you melt.

"I want to carry you."

A while later, you were back on the seas with your crew. A blanket had been slung across your shoulders, and you were sitting out on the deck with a hot drink in your hand - courtesy of Sanji who had been in no way threatened by Zoro to make it.

"Thank you," you finally spoke, turning to the silent swordsman beside you.

"What for?" He asked, his deep voice comforting you.

"For beating him up," you managed a small laugh.

He cracked a smile at that, turning to look at you, "Who says I did it for you? Maybe I just wanted an excuse to hit something."

"Uh huh, tough guy," you laughed, then leaned against him. "Did you mean all those things you said?"

"What things?" He hummed, trying to feign confusion.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled and let him be. You just sat there, leaning against him, and watched the ocean in silence. Until he decided to speak up.

"I did mean them."

You smiled, and looked up at him as he continued.

"I'm not...I'm not very good at showing how I feel, especially when it comes to something like this." He paused. "I don't know how to...navigate this, because I have never let myself think about anything other than training. Than becoming the world's greatest swordsman. Romance was the last thing I ever expected to find, but..." He gave you a rare, unguarded and genuinely happy smile, "I'm glad I found it with you."

His confession made your eyes widen, and you had to set the drink down from how shaky your hands got.

"And I know..." He took a deep breath, "I know you liked that guy, but-"

You giggled, and he stopped talking, his face turning red.

"Your naivety towards some things is adorable, you know that?" You stopped him before he could protest about being called adorable. "I only diverted my attention to him because I didn't think I would ever have a chance with you, the absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, quietly sweet, and extremely protective former pirate hunter."

Your words caused an unfamiliar feeling to overcome him. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, an effect only you had ever had on him. He couldn't describe how he felt hearing you say that, but it was definitely a good feeling and he was starting to enjoy the way you made him feel.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you right against him. You hummed in satisfaction and curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder as his chin found the top of your head. You felt a soft, barely-there kiss being placed on top of your head, and smiled to yourself.

"Well I guess I should be thankful that idiot messed up," he spoke again, "He didn't deserve you anyway." He looked at you. "You deserve so much better than that, and I'm going to show you that."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his warm eyes, "I know."

He let himself smile again, satisfaction bubbling within him at the fact that he was the cause of your smile this time. He held you just a bit tighter, not wanting to let go, and wanting to keep you from further harm, emotional or physical. He wanted to shield you from all the hurtful things you might encounter, because he would be damned if he had to go through the pain of seeing your face so broken and upset again. He didn't ever want to see you cry again, not because of him, or anyone else.

"You know, that didn't hurt for long," you finally spoke up again after a few quiet minutes. "Thanks to you."

"Glad I can be of service."

You rolled your eyes, lightly smacking his chest at his remark. He laughed, the sound like audible honey, and leaned in to softly press his lips against yours.

"Get some rest. I'll be here for as long as you need me to."

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