#i was completely aware of everything and just how much pain i was in

[stxrvel]

losing myself

memories of how you lost yourself trying to keep your best friend afloat. content. angst, depression and suicidal thoughts. this is post-suguru's death, except the first memory. a/n. i just can't seem to bring myself out of the angst for jjk, i apologise in advance!

Helping Satoru was a way of losing yourself. When Haibara died and Suguru abandoned them, Shoko dealt with it in her loneliness and the only thing Satoru could lean on was you. Your shoulder was his support, the only thing that kept him sane to reality as you both tried to graduate and made the decision to teach school, you for a much more selfish reason than Satoru's human reasons.

Helping Satoru cost you a lifetime of loneliness. You loved your friend and after what happened you were so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were willing to do anything, even if it meant losing everything that once made you who you were and all motivation. You thought your identity didn't compare to the pain and helplessness of not being able to do anything while everyone walked away, but your decision led to a lonelier life than you had thought.

“Hey, everything okay?” Shoko approached through the hallway, the darkness relenting once she was standing next to you. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine. Just a little tired.”

The clouds around you enveloped them on either side, a somber feeling settling in between the space Shoko kept her distance with.

“Well, we've graduated. From now on the pains can't be so great.”

“Yeah, right. We're past the worst of it, aren't we?”

“I'd like to think so.”

Her cocked smile thawed a little of the chill settling in your chest, but her eyes told you everything her lips didn't. She knew, everyone knew, that you hadn't been the same since Suguru left. Satoru was staying afloat because of his goofy personality, but trying your best to keep it that way, the sparkle in your eyes disappeared. The person who used to be told that she brought the sun in her eyes had completely clouded over. Shoko saw the storms in your eyes, the impenetrable and unceasing tempest. She couldn't cross it without dying trying.

“You can talk to me if you need to.”

That was what she said every time, even though you never took her at her word. Shoko always proved she could survive on her own, however she had done it, whatever process she had to go through, the smile she gave you in those moments at least was more genuine than yours.

Satoru was too wrapped up in his own world, his own head and his own pain to stop for a moment to notice yours, which Shoko and the others could. You never placed that guilt on Satoru's shoulders, nor did you need to, but it was something you were sadly aware of. Satoru didn't push you aside because he was selfish, it was simply his way of processing things, so internally and individually inside his head. Just as you had made it your way of processing grief to help Satoru tirelessly, to the point of almost becoming his shadow.

“I don't know what to do anymore, y/n,” Satoru cried, hands holding his head and knees against his chest.

Utahime had called out to you, barely passing you out of eagerness and blurting out a couple of words that you could deduce were about Satoru. It was painful as you knew you had to prepare in advance to see him, because it was heartbreaking to have to help him process your pain while you had to keep your own at bay.

“I'm tired of dreaming about it. I'm tired of… seeing him.”

Your hands moved over his hair, his cursed technique disappearing every time you were near. You tried to contain the trembling of his body by holding his shoulders, but having you closer only made him more vulnerable.

“Not sleeping is not the solution, Satoru.”

“That's the only way,” raising his head, his puffy blue eyes returned your gaze. At times like those, you didn't know how he hadn't noticed your sunken eyes or the black bags that even years later still wouldn't go away.

But it was about him. Satoru was in bad modd. You had to help him. You had to hold him.

“No, it's not. I'm here,” your knees touched his feet, his face contracting as a fresh tide of tears lashed his chest. Cold hands wrapped around you and your numb hands wrapped around his neck. “I know you miss him. I know you regret it.”

His sobs against your shoulder grew louder and louder, but Satoru kept his grip with hostility. He held close to you as his lifeline, the float that carried him across the ocean, shipwrecked in his own pain, lost in his own mind.

“But you know you don't have to carry that pain alone, Satoru.”

“I don't know what I did, y/n…”

“You did what you had to do.”

“No…”

“If you hadn't done it, I would have.”

His head jerked up, his blue eyes crystallizing and pain written all over his face with the trail of tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

“It wasn't anything either of us would've had to have done,” you shook your head, trying to contain the memories in the back of your head, trying to focus on pain your friend in that moment, on what really mattered. “It wasn't anything either of us had to endure.”

“But you're fine…”

You almost snorted, controlling yourself enough to let out a sigh. His naive eyes wouldn't leave yours, almost as if he was constantly wondering what you were doing to deal with all that he wasn't. As if there was something wrong that he was doing or something he wasn't doing that you were, because in his eyes, up until that moment, you were fine.

“I'm fine when you're fine.”

“I'm not fine right now.”

“I know.”

You seemed to think a glimmer of understanding crossed his eyes. You didn't know, you couldn't be sure, but his face returned to your neck and the tears stopped falling. Minutes passed in silence.

“I'm sorry,” was the last thing he said that night.

Helping Satoru was something you would never regret, even when you had lost your spark and the students loved him more than you.

“I thought you were going out tonight.”

You ran into Nanami on your way to your dorm. It was getting close to the time of the outing Satoru had proposed for that night and you knew that if you didn't go no one else would show up there. You hated to think of dashing your friend's hopes, but he had already developed enough strength to go through such a disappointment. It had been months since he had becone strong enough to deal with such situations on his own.

“I'm tired.”

“For something specific?”

It was common for your friends to dance around the elephant in the room, and sometimes you allowed yourself to think how different things would be if they had at some point been more daring with their approaches, as you were with Satoru. What would've changed, then or in the past, if Nanami or Shoko had been more insistent? Where would you be now? Where would you be later?

“Nothing specific. I'd just like to get more rest tonight,” you sent Nanami a smile, the kind you had mastered to avoid such conversations.

“Very well. You know I'm just a phone call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Nanami.”

Were you really that selfish? In all their remoteness, your friends were still concerned about your well-being. Had enough time passed for you to not care? If you didn't want to be unwell, why was it so hard for you to accept their help?

“You've lost weight,” Satoru was right beside you from the moment you left Yaga's office.

“The mission went well, Satoru, thank you for caring.”

You tried to dodge him to go back to your room, but of course the white-haired man wouldn't just walk away just because. Lately he was closer, more attentive, more condescending…

“Are you eating well?”

Satoru was trying hard to ignore the way his words brought back dark memories. From the moment he realized what had been happening, his mind was scheming every second of the day in trying to find a way to bring you back to your original state. He couldn't even fully concentrate on the missions, but that was no obstacle for him.

“I'm tired, Satoru. It was three days. I need to sleep.”

“I told Yaga many times to let me go with you…”

“I handled it just fine on my own, Satoru.”

“I know! I'd just like to be of some use-”

“You want to be of some use? Leave me alone.”

The bed was freezing cold as it was every night. You changed the sheets that morning and organized the entire bedroom in a strange spike of energy. You felt a little better afterwards, but not enough. It had never stopped looking and feeling so empty, no matter what you did.

Satoru called you a couple of times that night, but as usual, he'd give up after a couple of tries.

You wondered again, drowsily, what would be different if only he had insisted a little more…

[frvnkcastles]

hiii!! i hope you're okay ❤️ so i was thinking of a frank x reader where she's asthmatic but hasn't had an attack for a long time, so they're watching a movie and she has a very strong attack and he helps her and comforts her.

thank you, i love the way you write ❤️❤️❤️❤️

FEEL THE RUSH ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You have an asthma attack, and Frank is there to help.

Warnings: Asthma attack, language

Word count: 1k

Author’s note: Anon I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this! Thank you so much for your kind words, I hope you enjoy this <3

Maybe you had been foolish to sink into the false sense of hope and security — maybe you had been foolish to think another attack simply wasn’t going to rear its head and you could live your life without care or worry about the air in your lungs.

Truthfully, it was something you always had to deal with, always a part of your daily routine that you had just grown accustomed to. Being asthmatic could be a real pain in your ass, but for the most part, it was manageable. For the past months, you had been spared of an attack, and you almost forgot how constricting and terrible it could be.

You liked to think your sudden lack of symptoms had something to do with the man by your side. He seemed to make everything better, after all. You had been friends for a long time, but a few months back, he had taken the plunge and kissed you — with caution, as not to take your breath away entirely. He had worked backwards, first cradling your face in his massive hands and clashing his perfect lips against yours, noses brushing together as he handled you with ease and effortlessness… and only after, he shyly backed away, wondering out loud if you’d do him the honor of joining him for a date. He had enchanted you entirely and you had agreed in a heartbeat, and ever since then, you had been inseparable.

He spent a lot of time at your apartment, and it already felt like he belonged there, like he was what turned it from a house into a home. You were completely comfortable with the burly, hulking man who fixed your furniture and learned the contents of your kitchen cabinets in an effort to cook you dinner even without asking. In fact, you were head over heels for him and his tendency to always have his hands all over you, sometimes in a protective manner, sometimes hungry and needy to feel your body under his calloused fingertips. He made every day a dream come true, heaven on earth, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

So, it was easy to forget about your health concerns. He was the concerned one, always looking out for you and making sure you were alright, and you were just happy to have him.

But of course, bliss could only last so long, and you were pulled back into reality on a seemingly uneventful Friday evening, your body nestled against Frank’s with his strong arms around you and your fingers drawing patterns on the back of his cut-up hand. It was all so domestic, something he never thought he’d have again, and in that moment, you were both undoubtedly content.

It started out with a wheeze, a shallow attempt to inhale air into your system. Frank was immediately alerted, well-aware of your condition, and with a cocked eyebrow, he pushed himself off of the soft cushions enough to give you a knowing look full of worry and willingness to jump into action.

”I’m okay”, you managed, but he didn’t settle back into the couch, only continued to observe you, and his instincts proved to be right — in the next second, panic erupted on your face and you felt the familiar, suffocating grip, making it difficult for you to breathe. Your chest tightened and you burst into a fit of coughs, sitting up while struggling to haul air into your lungs.

Without a word, Frank got up from the couch. ”Where’s your inhaler, sweetheart?” he asked with a clear and firm voice, trying to stay calm and rational as he quickly glanced around the living room.

”The—the bedroom?” you theorized, silently cursing yourself for neglecting your inhaler. It had been months since you had had a full-blown attack, and days since you had needed to prevent smaller symptoms with the device, and in the rush of the moment, it was hard to think back to where you had left it.

Frank wasted no time, making his way to the bedroom

where you heard him ransack every nook and cranny. You tried to control your wheezing and regain composure, but it seemed the symptoms were only getting worse with every passing second, and it became blatantly obvious that the inhaler alone was going to offer any relief. It scared you, the thought of it being utterly lost, but before you could start panicking any further, Frank was running back to your side.

”Got it. Fucker was in the bedside table”, he announced gruffly, seating himself next to you on the couch while handing over the inhaler. As you desperately brought it up to your mouth, Frank caressed your cheek and wiped astray strands of your hair behind your ear. ”It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be better soon”, he spoke with reassurance, swallowing thickly as he watched you slowly get the upper hand.

As you began breathing easier, he smiled, the feeling of being useless subsiding. He hated not being able to help, even if realistically he knew there was nothing else he could do. ”Attagirl. You did so good, sweetheart”, he praised you, leaning in to kiss your temple before lowering his face to your level to meet your stare. ”Feelin’ better?” his voice was soft as he addressed you, care in every word.

You nodded, the panic in you melting away as you gripped the inhaler with a vice-like hold. ”I’m never losing track of this thing again”, you grumbled, making Frank chuckle as he gently pulled you into his arms and stroked your back.

”Y’know I hate bein’ so fuckin’ useless. Just wanna make it better for you”, he lamented, and with a tender smile, you hugged him tight.

”You’re not useless. I would’ve been screwed if I had to start looking for the inhaler myself”, you reminded, and supposing you were right, Frank nodded.

”Fair ’nuff, sweetheart. Lemme know if you ever need anythin’ else from me, aight? I’m here for ya”, he swore, and full of love for the man and his big heart, you withdrew from his embrace just enough to place a careful kiss right on his lips. He returned the fervor, greedily kissing you back, almost losing his cool as he ached for more of you.

”Thanks, Frankie. You’re my hero”, you grinned, half-joking, and with a snort, he rolled his eyes.

”You’re your own hero, pretty girl. ’M just the lucky asshole who gets to admire you in all your glory.”

[mrblazeflappybird]

I have noone to talk to about this new Helluva Boss episode so you're getting subjected to my ranting

(I'm going to be talking about the end scene with Blitz and Stolas - loved the whole episode though, not my fave but definitely not my least favourite by any means)

STOLAS. MY GOD. YOU SHOULD NOT BE RELATABLE AND BECAUSE OF YOU I SHALL BE GETTING PROFESSIONAL HELP ASAP.

I completely and utterly believe that both Stolas and Blitz need to get a reality check. But whilst I am certain Blitz will in the series (probably multiple times over) I'm worried Stolas won't. The most he might probably get is him getting told by Octavia that "You don't love me, you love him".

Stolas. Needs. A. Reality. Check.

I get that (as a character) his response to everything is trauma based just like Blitz. But the way he's acting is kinda like... you aren't perfect. You are messing this up just as much as Blitz is, possibly more so.

The way he and I are similar is the fact that we both do things so heavily based through our immediate feelings that we just don't take time to think about stuff, especially not in the moment. To the point that we are blind to the damage it causes.

The relationship started as a purely "no feelings" deal. Regardless of them both catching them, that was THE RULE that they both followed most the time. Obviously until they didn't. And whilst its painful and the reasons Blitz didn't do anything is because of self hatred and therapy-needing reasons most likely, he still kept to that rule.

Stolas immediately was like "Nah, I'm changing everything right now."

Yes, yes, please, if you aren't happy and know ultimately this relationship is hurting more than bringing happiness, end it. But he can't just expect Blitz to immediately understand what's going on and what to say. Its such a huge backhand that's so unexpected by Blitz that ofc he's gonna be confused and think its something its not.

But like.... Stolas just didn't listen to Blitz, didn't really let him make sense of everything, and when Blitz jumped to the (unfortunately) logical conclusion in his brain - which is both trauma AND because of this relationship's nature - Stolas was just done.

And like... I get it?? Because that's me. Bruh. Will be and have been changing my behaviour in the future. I'm aware of my flaws and thank you to my wonderful girlfriend for giving me my reality check. Very glad that I managed to listen to her... UNLIKE A SPECIFIC DEMON.

I understand that the yelling and the slamming doors down the corridor complaining about how shitty you are reminds you of your abusive ex wife, and honestly whilst you should have listened to him in an ideal world, getting yourself out of a situation you can't handle is understandable and valid. BUT - and this is important - YOU NEED TO LET HIM HAVE SOME TIME TO PROCESS. AND LET HIM TALK.

Blitz was justified in yelling in my opinion. Stolas was also justified in teleporting him away because he yelled in my opinion too. But they both need serious reality checks.

I just don't think Stolas is ever thought to be in the wrong with any of this. He should have listened and not be so impulsive with his actions. He never really thought of the reality behind it (seemingly) and was so certain that because *his* emotions and feelings change and adapt quickly along with his, like, reality and wants and needs(???), it doesn't mean Blitz's will too.

Anyway sorry for the rant lmaooooo. Was not expecting Fizz in that episode I love that little robot imp man favourite character yayyy

[velhohoho]

Im rotting in bed recovering from getting all 4 of my wisdom teeth pulled, send asks

[coffeeworldsasaki]

Once again chanting in my mind "graphic card" to avoid snapping at my mother saying dumb shit

[evergone]

Sleepless

Rindou Haitani x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (allusions to sex), swearing

Description: The reader can't sleep because the Tenjiku members are being far too loud.

You had tried so hard all night not to disturb your boyfriend and his friends as they celebrated their recent successes in your lounge room, but as your eyes fluttered open for the fifth time that night, you knew you had to go and ask them to be just a tad quieter. Of course, you felt terrible because Rindou was being so considerate already. You couldn’t even hear the crappy rap music they were playing, just the echo of the bass through the walls, and both of the times that you were woken up by their chatter you heard Rindou frantically scrambling to hush them.

With a yawn and a small stretch, you pulled your throw blanket over your shoulders and shuffled across the carpet until you found your ugg boots in the complete and utter darkness. After a pained “fuck” slipped past your lips as you hit your knee on the edge of your bedframe, you slowly opened the door and stepped out into the lounge room.

It wouldn’t have taken more than a second before the boys noticed your meek, sleep-deprived frame cringing at the power of the lights while your eyes took their time to adjust. Most of them were strung out across the three grey couches in front of the television which was tuned into an MMA fight on mute, while the younger members (that Kisaki kid, his friend Hanma, Kokonoi, and Sanzu) were awkwardly sitting around the dining table behind them. Madarame offered you a short wave to which you responded with a tired frown, then you finally caught sight of Rindou sitting in the corner of the middle couch with his hand outstretched towards you.

“Rinnie…” You whined as you made your way into his lap with his arm lazily draped over your waist. Ran, your brother-in-law for all intents and purposes, snickered at the nickname, and the tone of your voice which was laden with exhaustion.

“Sorry, did we wake you up?” Rindou asked quietly, and then turned to the rest of the group, “I told these fuckwits to keep it down.”

Rindou wasn’t ignorant of the fact that you were wearing nothing but his shirt as pyjamas, and he knew well from the night’s earlier — and more private — events that your underwear were the barely-there kind. So, he was cautious to make sure that one of his hands was sitting firmly under your bum at all times, holding the shirt against your skin.

“If you guys stayed quiet I would’ve made you pancakes for breakfast as thanks,” you teased. Mocchi’s shoulders tensed in clear disappointment at your words. While all of them were fond of your cooking, Mocchi was always the biggest eater.

You pressed your lips against Rindou’s neck while they continued their discussion. His voice vibrated into each kiss you bestowed upon his neck and collarbone with a kind of intimacy that made you feel as though you were melting into one another. After a while of this, you began to doze off, your mind stuck in the in-between state of being oddly aware of everything around you, but not quite awake.

Rindou took one glance at the state of you, nearly asleep despite the volume of the room, and hooked his arms under your thighs to carry you back to the bed you shared. He folded the throw neatly at the end of the mattress, then placed you down on your preferred side, and admired the irritated look on your face which was made possible to see by the slightly open door.

As he made a movement to leave and rejoin his friends in the lounge room, you groaned, grabbed the cuff of his shirt, and pulled him back towards you. He was much stronger than you, strong enough not to be even slightly moved by your pull, but he was never the kind of boyfriend to fight your affection. He knelt down on the floor beside you with his hand rubbing circles on your cheek, already feeling terrible about how you couldn’t get to sleep because of him and his friends.

“What’s wrong, N/n?” He said lovingly.

“Come to bed. It’s cold. I want you in here with me.” You saw how Rindou’s eyes flicked back to the light emanating from the doorway, so you pouted in the sexiest way you could given how tired you were. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The sleeve of the shirt you were wearing had — at some point, unbeknownst to you — fallen from your shoulder to reveal the lacy strap of a new bra Rindou had bought you. It reminded him of your underwear. Of how nice it felt to take them off earlier…

“You’re too tired for any of that, babe. Just go to bed, and I’ll come join you in no time, promise,” he said as he shook the images from his mind, knowing you were one blink away from falling asleep again.

“You hate me,” you huffed, and turned away from your boyfriend before adding, “You’re just gonna end up passing out on the couch like you do every time they come here. I’m gonna wake up all alone. You’re such a bad boyfriend.”

Rindou smiled softly, “Are you trying to guilt-trip me right now?” You turned back to make eye contact with him and nodded. “Fine.”

For a moment, he disappeared into the lounge room. You could hear Ran making fun of him for being “absolutely whipped”, and Izana telling him to “man up”, but you were already beginning to feel your eyelids getting heavier, so you didn’t care much to go out and defend him. When he returned, he took off his shirt and pulled on a pair of trackpants, and then crawled into bed beside you.

Content to have gotten all you wanted from Rindou, you traced the tattoos on his torso until you were so exhausted you could no longer hold your hand up.

“I will make it worth your while,” you yawned as you rested your head on his chest and let him run his hands over your hair, “Just… In the morning when I’m rejuvenated.”

You closed your eyes and Rindou felt your heartrate slow down along with the frequency of your breaths. You were snoring ever-so-gently, and he stifled a laugh at the irony of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to get even a second of sleep because of it.

[daruee]

Corner Store :)

Who goes to the corner store at 1 am?

I do.

And who's too dumb to think of putting some less revealing clothes?

I am.

I was lying in bed really faded and completely mind broken after playing with my cunt for hours instead of going to sleep. Nonetheless I realized I was a little hungry but there was nothing I wanted to eat in my house, so after my body calmed down I cleaned myself up and put some clothes on so I could go out. If it were any other time I would've put on joggers and a comfortable sweatshirt, but my mind was over taken.

I wasn't looking to blend in, I wanted to be gawked at like a piece of meat, at least subconciously. I pulled out a cropped pink hoodie with black stars all over it and the shortest skirt I could find (it barely covered my ass)

And for the finishing touches I hoisted my thong straps above the waistband of my skirt and smiled at the outfit I'd created.

"perfect"

The walk to the corner store was quiet...eerily quiet, I just pushed it to the back of my mind and focused on my goal right now.

"get fucked- I mean get some snacks...obviously...I just came out here for snacks"

I start scanning the aisle in the hopes of something catching my eye...when I stand there I realize the lone worker managing the store had been following me, I averted my eyes and just walked down another way because there was no way I was confronting him about it. I was the most scared when I stood back up from bending down to grab a drink from the freezers...I turned back to see a glimpse of him...

"he was looking at my ass" I thought, and suddenly got self concious and tried to turn around and cover it by putting my hands behind my back. I just gave up and went to pay. No words were exchanged between us since I was pretty sure he knew I was aware of what he was doing. When it came time to pay I realized...

"shit I forgot my wallet...I come here all the time would it be too much to ask if I could pay later?"

Would he reason with me...probably not. So I was getting discouraged before I even heard his answer and then that's when his words echoed through me...like a perfectly placed opportunity.

"There's another way you can pay...it's nastier but you don't seem like any stranger to that."

How could he just assume that about me...then I remebered how I was dressed... I had to admit his observation was quite fair.

I put up a little fight but it wasn't long before I was behind the store counter on my knees, legs spread a little bit and using all that knowlege from hypno vides, porn, and practicing on my dildo from home on how to suck him off.

"god you desperate bitches really do it the best eh?”

"keep it going I want to feel my cock hitting the back of your throat."

were all things he said, and I won't lie it only turned me on. I wanted to please him more and didn't care if I had to be a stupid fuck toy to do it. Once that was over with he pulls me up by my hair, not caring how much it hurt me in anyway and bent me over the counter.

I couldn't help but squirm over all the tugging of my thong and what it was doing to my overstimulated cunt, it hurt really bad and whenever I got too loud his rough hand came down harshly on my as…he had no mercy. That was only the beginning though, I started losing it when he went to fuck my ass, it hurt so bad and he went in and out as he pleased with no such warnings.

For that two hours he owned me.

He did everything in his power to make things as painful as possible and put off his cumming because the deal was...

"I'll let you walk out of here as long as I get to cum."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't asking him for more by that time though, when he'd finally came he crouched down to watch his milky essence drip from my once tight little asshole down to my pussy, of course I gave it a taste after that and shoved some into my pussy for him.

"your such a good slut, and see what'll happen if you try to forget your wallet again, I'll have you crying and drinking my piss...get out of here."

It's safe to say...I will be forgetting my wallet again.

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [5]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 4 | Fic Masterlist | Part 6

"She's severely malnourished, and the injuries on her body tell us that she's undergone quite the abuse, seemingly for years. But I assume you already deduced that much, yes?" Yunho stated as he turned to your husband.

Seonghwa nodded grimly, "Yes, unfortunately. Is there anything you can do to help with all the marks?"

"Given the lack of proper treatment for so long, most of her wounds have only worsened, resulting in permanent scars from various infections. I'll do my best to treat as much as I can, but please understand that I won't be able to eliminate most of these scars." The physician explained, not wanting to give the general any false hope of restoring your skin back to its original form.

Thankfully, Seonghwa wasn't naturally inclined to optimism, and he didn't care to entertain the idea of a miracle. He sighed, "I understand, Yunho. It doesn't matter to me if the scars remain, just... make all the pain go away for her. That's all that matters."

Though possibly surprised, Yunho didn't reveal it in his expression. That might have been the sweetest sentiment he had ever heard from the general. He nodded, "Very well. I'll need a few tools and herbs to prepare her tonic and ointment. Should I stay in the usual quarters until my work is complete?"

Eager to see her mistress recover quickly, the head maid was ready for action. She stood up as soon as her master addressed her, "Eunsook, you know what to do. Organise a team of servants to assist Physician Jung with everything he requires and prepare his usual accommodation."

Without having to be told twice, she swiftly moved to leave Seonghwa's room, "Yes, master! Please come with me, Physician Jung." The general watched as everyone exited his private quarters, leaving him alone with you.

Bringing a chair beside the bed, he seated himself next to you and mustered the courage to hold your hand. Gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, he felt a pang in his heart, realising that it was far from how the hand of someone your age should be – smooth and flawless. Instead, it bore the marks of what he could only imagine as endless pain.

Reflecting on the unfounded accusations he had hurled at you after your sincere expression of gratitude during dinner, he wished he could turn back time and retract his words, if only it were possible. As if your life hadn't already been hell, he had only made it worse for you.

Suddenly, the notion of you being genuinely happy with The Cold Palace didn't seem so far-fetched. After all, who could fathom the inhumane living conditions you had endured for all those years? However, this realisation brought him no comfort; the fact that your life back in the Jang estate was so bad that you had to express gratitude for being given such a place was heartbreaking.

Seonghwa was jolted from his thoughts when he sensed your weak hand squeezing his. Looking up, he noticed your anguished expression as you cried in your sleep, your voice brokenly uttering, "I'm sorry..."

He felt his heart clench at the sight, prompting him to move and sit closer to you on the bed. Lifting his free hand, he gently wiped away the tears streaming from the corners of your eyes down your cheeks, "Hey, it's alright... You're safe now." He whispered, returning the soft squeeze to your hand.

As if aware of his presence, your eyes snapped open in alarm, and a whimper of fear escaped you as you saw him. For the first time in a long while, the general found no satisfaction in the fear reflected in someone's eyes. You gasped upon realising that the lifeline you were clinging to was him, noticing your hand in his.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You cried harder when you realised your marks were still fully on display. Pulling your hand away from his, you grasped the sheets around you and clutched them close.

Despite the disappointment he felt at the absence of your hand, he didn't have time to dwell on it with your little panic attack. To ground you, he cupped your face with his hands, "Look at me," and you complied, your trembling eyes meeting his gaze, "Stop apologising and tell me what it is that you're sorry for."

"I-I'm sorry for all this," You gestured miserably to your own body, "I'm hideous. I'm tainted. I'm n-not good enough to be your wife, a-and I never will be. I-I don't deserve happiness... I was foolish to think I could find it h-here... with you."

Shaking his head, he caressed your hollow cheekbones, staring firmly into your eyes, "No, you listen to me. Never think that again. I forbid you from believing you're hideous or tainted or anything ridiculous like that. Whoever dares say you're not good enough to be my wife can go to hell because you're the only one I want. You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I will give you just that. You're not foolish to think that. I'll prove it to you."

Leaving you speechless, Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you before you could muster a response, pulling you close. The sudden warmth felt foreign but good, and you nestled your face into his broad shoulder, allowing yourself to relish the moment.

Am I dreaming? Feels too good to be true.

Marvelling at the luxurious interior of this beautiful room, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a product of your imagination. How could any of this be real?

The last memory you had was the general storming angrily into your room and ripping your hanbok open. After seeing you in your truest form, how could he have ended up acting this way towards you? It didn't make sense; he should have been disgusted and hostile. Instead, here he was, seemingly accepting you.

Exhausted from a lifetime of pain, you lacked the energy to question the reality of your situation. Even if it were just a dream, you decided to embrace it and savour the experience. On the other hand, if this was reality, you knew you had the rest of your life to understand his change of heart.

All that really mattered now was that the pain and the suffering stopped. If Seonghwa truly accepts you as his wife, the reason behind it doesn't seem important. You would simply be grateful for his kindness, or perhaps sympathy—whatever it was, you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

So long as there's no more pain.

With that decision made, you set aside the lingering questions in your mind and focused on how comforting it felt to be held in a warm embrace like this. A contented sigh escaped you as you whispered against him, "Thank you, my lord."

He responded by tightening his hold around your frame, gently cradling the back of your head with a hand, "No, don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything to deserve that from you. I've been horrible, the absolute worst. And for that, I'd like to apologise. I'm sorry, my dear. I promise you, I'll make up for it."

When you attempted to voice your protest, he halted you with a knowing shake of his head, "I know I may seem like an angel in comparison to the people who have... done all those horrendous things to you, but I won't lie and say that I'm proud of myself for the way I acted. You're important too, okay? You're the general's wife now, and I want you to remember that. I won't let anyone disrespect you again."

With a grateful nod, tears of relief welled up in your eyes. This transformed version of Seonghwa before you was a stark departure from the one you initially encountered. You didn't think he was capable of being so soft and caring, but you had no complaints; you could certainly get used to this.

"Oh, mistress! You're finally awake!" Eunsook exclaimed, standing at the room entrance with the physician in tow. This caused you and your husband to break eye contact. The general cleared his throat and averted his gaze, a faint blush tinting his cheeks when he realised the two had witnessed your shared intimate moment.

Yunho suppressed his smile and respectfully bowed at you, "Good day, Lady Park. I'm Physician Jung; it's nice to properly meet you." Blinking, you struggled to come up with a response, gaping at his handsome face.

While the elderly woman giggled at your loss of words, Seonghwa was less than amused at your reaction to the doctor's appearance. He scoffed lightly, finding it ridiculous that you were here gazing at another man after he had just poured his heart out to you.

How dare you be unfaithful this soon?

Upon catching the enticing scent of food, your eyes swiftly moved away from Yunho's face. Your face lit up as you finally noticed the bowl of piping hot congee in Eunsook's hands.

"Oh dear, you must be famished. With Physician Jung's help, we concocted this healthy meal for you. I know it's not very appetising, with all the medicinal herbs in it, but you must get better before indulging in tastier foods, alright?" She smiled encouragingly at you.

You shook your head as she approached with the bowl, "Not appetising? It already smells and looks better than anything I've ever had. Thank you for the food." You murmured, eagerly waiting as she fed you.

Unbeknownst to you, your innocent response had affected Seonghwa more than you realised, and it also surprised the physician. While Yunho had heard a bit about your situation from the head maid, he wasn't fully aware of the extent of it, and hearing it directly from you was truly heart-wrenching. That definitely explained the severe malnourishment.

The congee was gone within moments and Eunsook couldn't help but coo, "Well done, mistress." You bit your lip shyly, feeling embarrassed for devouring it in such an unladylike manner, but nothing mattered the moment the food touched your lips.

As if on cue, a group of servants arrived with a fresh set of clothes and bath supplies originally intended for you earlier in the morning. Turning toward the two men, the head maid bowed and gestured toward the door, "Master, Physician Jung, if you wouldn't mind stepping out. We shall bathe and change the mistress."

Yunho nodded, "Certainly, I'll be getting back to work then," and immediately excused himself, reassured to know you had finished your first sitting of medicine.

The general stood up from his spot, "Alright, Eunsook. I'll leave her to you for now. Take care of her for me." He said, moving to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. The action caused your eyes to widen, and all the servants internally squealed, shocked to see their master being so affectionate for the first time.

Your heart swelled as you watched him leave, his back suddenly seeming so reliable. It was hard to believe that he was your husband, yours. How lucky were you to be wedded to Park Seonghwa?

"Come, mistress. Let's get you cleaned up."

You observed with intrigue as the servants rushed around to prepare a bath for you, an experience you had never had before. However, as they began to assist in stripping off your clothes, you realised you had forgotten all about the marks on your skin earlier. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you pushed the hands of the servants away and shook your head.

Reassuring you, they withdrew their hands with warm smiles, "It's okay, mistress. Please know we are all on your side; nobody here will disrespect or look down on you. You are now the official wife of General Park, and we will work our hardest to serve you."

The head maid nodded in agreement behind them, their sincerity deeply touching your heart, "Thank you for your kindness." You whispered, finally allowing them to help you out of your hanbok. They handled you with gentleness, and it took you some time to get used to it—finally not being manhandled like you always had been.

After they finished scrubbing you clean, the other maids momentarily left you alone to enjoy the bath, touched by your endearing demeanour—constantly expressing gratitude for every little thing. To them, it felt almost like caring for a child. Exchanging excited glances, none of them could hide their pleasure in having such a sweet mistress.

With your presence, perhaps the general's anger could finally subside, and the estate could experience some peaceful days. If only you knew the hope you had brought with your arrival.

Eunsook lingered in the background, cleaning and tidying up, while you played with the rose petals floating around the bath water. You couldn't recall the last time your life had been so relaxing, so peaceful. Turning to the elderly woman working nearby, you gathered the courage to ask, "This... this isn't a dream, is it?"

Setting down her supplies, she approached you with a motherly smile on her face, "I assure you, mistress, it is not. This is all very real. Perhaps the master's sudden shift in behaviour can be confusing."

She gently held onto your hand, "Trust me, he is actually not such a bad person at all. There's a good reason why all the servants here have been with him for a long time. Though he believes it is simply because of the good pay, it isn't. He just... has a hard time trying to express his feelings. Let's just say master did not exactly grow up living an easy life. He struggles to show his love because he has not been given nearly enough of it while growing up."

That sounds a little like me too.

Giving your hand a soft squeeze, she added, "And now, with you here, it seems we can all hope that things will change for the better, for master and for you, mistress."

"M-me? Better because of... me?" You whispered, returning the squeeze, and she nodded, "Yes, mistress. All because of you. You are our light and our hope. Thank you for coming to us. You're so important to everyone here, you know that? Never let anyone tell you otherwise."

You didn't realise you were crying until you felt a gentle touch as the elderly woman wiped away the tears rolling down your cheeks, assuring you, "No matter what happens, I promise you won't be alone anymore from now on."

Standing in the centre of the room later on, it almost felt like a dream come true as the servants attentively assisted you in getting dressed. For once, you felt genuinely cared for and respected, a stark contrast to your previous experiences at home, where most servants treated you as less than human.

Turning to face the mirror, a gasp escaped you as you gazed at your reflection, "You look beautiful, mistress. Master is going to love it." A servant exclaimed, admiring your natural beauty. Your eyes widened as you took in the pleasant appearance before you, surprised that despite the visibility of your scars, you could look appealing. It appeared that with proper care, hair, and clothing, you could indeed appear somewhat pretty.

I guess all hope is not lost.

"We'll be taking our leave now, mistress." The rest of the maids bowed in a line before you as they finished up. Panic crossed their faces when they saw you about to return their bows, and Eunsook stopped you in time, saying, "Oh dear, mistress! We'll have to work on that. Please remember you do not have to bow to any of the servants here, or anywhere, for the matter."

You nodded, "I'm sorry, I'll remember that next time."

She chuckled and shook her head, "That too, you do not need to apologise to us. We are here to serve you." The maids nodded to signal that the elderly woman was right, smiling encouragingly at you before bowing one last time and leaving to return to their other tasks.

"Now, there's still a bit more time before dinner. What would you like to do until then, mistress?" The head maid asked.

You blinked, realising you didn't know how to answer. You never had the luxury to do as you pleased; all your supposed spare time was spent rotting in your prison cell of a room. What did your stepsisters usually do? Right, make your life hell. That's what.

What do young ladies around your age do?

Suddenly remembering Eunsook's earlier words about having to work on what you should and shouldn't do, you perked up, "I... I wish to learn. I want to be a proper lady, to be a proper wife for the general."

You stared, puzzled, as the elderly woman tried to hide her cheeky grin, "Well, the master's study is full of all sorts of knowledgeable books. Maybe you can find something in there. Would you like to go there now, mistress?"

Finding nothing wrong with the suggestion, you agreed. The next thing you knew, you were left standing alone by the entrance to the study she had been talking about. She had explained that she needed to assist the physician with an important task before hastily disappearing.

Not wanting to be impolite, you knocked on the door and waited for a response, "May I please enter, my lord?" After a moment of silence, you knocked again, only to be met with silence.

Maybe he's not inside.

With a shrug, you cautiously pushed the door open. Your eyes widened when you immediately spotted Seonghwa seated at his desk, deeply engrossed in his reading with a slight furrow of his brows. Despite planning to leave, you found yourself rooted to the spot, admiring how attractive he looked, even when only sitting there.

As if sensing someone watching him, his eyes immediately shot up in alert, only to soften when he realised it was you. Caught off guard, you sputtered and bowed repeatedly, "I-I'm sorry, my lord! I didn't mean to spy on you or anything like that. Eunsook told me I could occupy myself with some books in here until dinner, and I—"

Too busy staring down at your feet, you didn't notice he had been making his way towards you. You gasped when his shoes came into view, looking up to find him right in front of you with a gentle smile on his face, "Relax, I'm not angry. You're welcome to spend time with me; I'd be happy to accompany you."

Looking at you closely now, his heart raced as he realised how stunning you appeared in this natural state, even more so than with a face full of heavy makeup, "You... you look beautiful, by the way." He remarked, watching with admiration as a blush tinted your cheeks when you quietly thanked him.

As you bit your lips shyly, he found it hard to look away, feeling a desire to kiss you that he had never experienced with any woman before, "M-my lord?" You stuttered, feeling flustered by the sudden attention he was paying to your lips.

With a hand outstretched, he cleared his throat and gestured for you to join him, "R-right, let me know what you're looking for. This is no royal library, but I'm sure I'll have whatever you need."

You gulped, shyly placing your hand in his waiting one, "I was hoping to learn more about lady etiquette. I... I want to be a proper lady and wife for you, my lord." His heart melted at that; despite the less-than-warm welcome he had given you, you were still willing to work hard and be better for him.

"Very well, come with me." Tightening his hold on your hand, he gently led you towards the bookshelves lining the side of his study.

As you passed by his desk, you couldn't help but do a double take at the reading material he had been so focused on just earlier. You'd recognise the Jang family crest anywhere.

"Wait, isn't that—"

Before you could inquire about it, Seonghwa was already in the process of tidying up the space and simultaneously putting the book away, "Sorry for the mess. Now, which area of lady etiquette did you want to start with first?" He asked, gesturing to the entire row of books dedicated to the topic.

"O-oh, I haven't really thought about that. I wasn't aware there were so many different areas. Gosh, I have much to learn..." You trailed off, your mind already reeling as you tried to figure out which area would be best to begin with.

He sighed in relief, successfully redirecting the conversation. His heart nearly stopped when he spotted the recognition in your eyes upon seeing your family records. The general didn't want to have to interview you in order to delve into your past; he didn't want you to relive any nightmares. More importantly, he didn't want to worry you by revealing any of the plans he had in store for your family.

« Preview of Part 6 »

Jongho entered his master's study that night, panting and puzzled to find the desk filled with books on... lady etiquette?

"S-sir?"

Seonghwa snapped up immediately, catching the assistant's appalled gaze on your books. He chuckled, "Oh, those are just your mistress' books. She said she wants to learn to be a proper lady and wife... can you believe that?"

Without himself noticing, the general had an almost dreamy look on his face as he smiled, lost in thoughts of you, unaware that he was letting it show on his face, revealing his affection for you.

"I see. I'm sure the mistress will no doubt make you proud with her studies soon." Jongho responded with a knowing grin, pleased to see his master being soft for a change, the intimidating General Park momentarily gone, all because of his wife.

Recalling his aide's purpose for being here this late, Seonghwa quickly turned serious, "Well, have you managed to find anything?"

The assistant immediately straightened up, moving closer to the general and lowering his voice, "I have, sir. With the funds you provided, I hired a private investigator willing to infiltrate the Jang estate. Fortunately, one of the older servants didn't take much to crack; she told him just about everything."

With a clenched fist, your husband asked for confirmation, "Well? Was it her father?"

Nodding, Jongho's expression turned grim, "It was as you assumed, sir. It was him, his wife, his stepdaughters, and even the servants. But there's... more. We've uncovered new information, the minister... he truly is despicable."

Sorry, this part took a little longer! Happy to report that I'm feeling much better! I was out all day with my family and immediately got to work finalising this as soon as I got home!

Thank you so much for 800+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and I'm so excited to hear all your thoughts (or even predictions for what's to come😈), I promise I won't spoil anything in my replies! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[mamayan]

★彡BRAT TAMER☆彡

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

TW: Soft Dom! Gyomei • Fem! Reader • Brat Taming • Spanking • Punishment • Creampie • Breeding Kink • Dom/Sub dynamics • Belly Bulge • Fluff • Gyomei says a naughty word🫢

Happy birthday Gyomei Himejima♥️

This is Gyomei so it’s fluffy, but I’m planning to write a Dabi Brat Tamer fic… and make it less fluffy ;)

Your husband is always so patient.

His poignant attitude allowed hardly any irritation to be sent your way.

Instead, he felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry you felt like acting out all day. Whatever had gotten you in a such a rotten and irritable mood, he desperately wanted to eliminate it. His sweet darling wife, whom he holds close to his heart and prays for only peace and happiness. Yes, his small and adorable spouse, has been nothing but an immature brat from the rising of the sun to the setting of it. Since the birds began their morning harmony, you’d felt the need to push and pick at his enormous generosity and patience.

He felt sorry for you.

Yet his sorrow would not amount to how sorry you were going to be if you didn’t stop.

He knew he’d just returned from a terribly long mission away from you. He was aware the loneliness had built up while he was away, and you were only releasing the frustration you were forced to hold onto in his absence. This entire week he’s been home, your actions spoke of nothing but defiance and a forced hierarchy shift in your shared household.

You’ve continuously interrupted his prayer and meditation time.

“Mei, I need this done.” Your chores mindless and seemingly made up each and every time, like shifting a statue in the garden because it wasn’t attracting the birds you adored anymore… even though it was in spring which they returned.

You’ve denied all attempts at intimacy, and Gyomei is not a man who would ever pressure for anything sexual in nature, but he misses your sweet lips and soft figure in his arms. Even just holding his hand, whispering shared words of love, or basking in one another’s company has been rejected. You’re busy, as you’ve put it.

Yet desperately needy when he turns his attention elsewhere after rejection.

“My love, if I have dissatisfied you, I must know how I might amend this.”

“Gyomei… you haven’t, I’m fine.”

Yes.

He’s your ever patient and adoring husband.

His breaking point is surprisingly small and simple. His tears for once not flowing, but instead a few veins bulging from his skin in raw and prominent anger.

He’s your ever patient and adoring husband, until you do something foolish and hurt yourself. Your childishness and stubborn attitude of “I can do it myself”has you falling and nearly breaking your ankle. Attempting to reach a rafter on your own despite his size to help a regular visiting old cat down. The yowling elderly feline completely blind and often finding itself in need of rescue. He wasn’t entirely sure how you managed to get up there alone, likely some even more dangerous assembly of household items stacked for your journey up there. If he was not blind and had seen it, his fury might’ve even been more terrifying.

It was your sweet cooing, something he’s been deprived of, to the feline which caught his attention initially. It was the choked gasp which he’d heard from his meditation spot outside which had him moving. Despite all he was as a man, a proud Hashira, and your husband, he failed to catch you.

Your pain filled yelp and following tears enough to shatter his heart.

True to your attitude this week, your big watery eyes looked up at him, melting him, before your words dropped a bucket of ice water over everything.

“This is your fault! …sniff…”

Annoyance overwhelmed him. He only chanted lowly Namu Amidabutsu while carrying you off to be checked by a doctor. Your whines and sniffles normally invoking his own tears, but he’s silent and calm as he takes you away.

The doctor tells you to be more careful and stay off the foot as much as possible for the next few days. Nothing was broken, just a sprain and some swelling. Comfort would normally be the first thing you’d seek, your husband’s wide and pillowy chest perfect to burrow into and complain.

It’s a quiet few following days, as you heal and hobble around. So quiet, it becomes evident your world is off. Your patient, kind, and benevolent husband… is like an ice wall. Stoic, chanting from morning till night, praying, training, and then ignoring you. Quite literally ignoring you too, standing as if he can’t hear you despite having some of the best hearing of anyone you know. He avoids all contact with you, it’s as if you’re air and don’t exist. You think it a challenge, who can outlast the other in this Cold War, but it was never a battle you’d succeed in. No, despite your best and brattiest attempts, despite trying to seduce him, despite becoming furious and yelling at him… you lost. Your tears falling first, your heart crumbling, and your anxiety winning.

It’s late that evening, and your husband is out meditating under the moon. Looking serene and beautiful while you internally crumble as you move towards him. He knows you’re there, his hums and low chants not stopping even as your fall to your knees.

“Mei…” your weak and wobbly voice does nothing.

“Gyomei…” again, it’s as if you aren’t there at all.

“…I’m sorry…hck…please I’m sorry… I was wrong.” Tears fell like rain drops from your eyes and down your cheeks, dripping from your chin to your clenched hands in your lap. You really were sorry. “I don’t know why I- please, I’m sorry my love, please talk to me… I’ll do anything—”

“Anything?” You hadn’t realized he’d stopped chanting, his attention, and sweet focus on you for the first time in days.

“Y-yes! My love I—” he raised a palm to silence you.

“Go to our room. I want you naked on the floor when I come in.”

“…?” You’re dumbfounded, unsure if you even heard him correctly. Except Gyomei is standing, his full height even more intimidating as you flounder to stand back up. He’s wordlessly walking away, not in the direction of your shared bedroom, but smartly you choose to follow his orders instead of following him. His wide and impressive back getting smaller in the distance as you hurry along to complete the task at hand.

It’s somewhat cool in the room, and for the last several days Gyomei hasn’t slept in the space with you at all. The bed wasn’t made, not like you’d normally do, and for once you bit your lip and quickly tidied it despite him not even being able to see it. It helped calm your racing heart though, as you begin slipping from your robes, shivering as your bare skin comes in contact with the chilled air. You weren’t sure what else to do after that, instead just sitting on the floor and waiting.

Wait you did, nearly half an hour. Shivering and continuously debating between wrapping yourself in a blanket or not. He’d hear the rustling of fabric though, and you didn’t want to risk him thinking you disobeyed. Just as the internal war was nearly won, you heard familiar firm footsteps approaching. As Gyomei slid the door open, his head dipping to allow him into the space without knocking his face. He wasn’t empty handed though, and you noticed something that had the blood draining from your face.

It was a thin but sturdy looking branch, all protruding smaller leaves and branches removed. It was a switch, likely from the wisteria tree in your garden.

The door slid closed, and your husband’s face revealed nothing to you as you tried to reason with yourself that this wasn’t happening.

Except it apparently was. Gyomei bypassed you sitting on the floor, moving to take up a spot on your shared bed, legs spread wide but the branch remaining in his had had your heart rate picking up. His tone left no room for arguments.

“Come here.”

While Gyomei certainly wasn’t inclined towards corporal punishment, he also couldn’t think of a more simple method. Ignoring you wasn’t that healthy. Forgiving and forgetting wasn’t an option either, your behavior having become self destructive.

“Lay on your stomach here,” he pats his right thigh, “and lay your face here,” he’s got a pillow beside him which he taps. He can feel your trembling as you climb on the bed, but he’s proud you’re listening so well for him. “Good girl.” He punctuates his praise by gently petting down your hair, letting you settle into position, forced to stick your ass higher and feel your own arousal slightly cool on your thighs. You’re trembling in fear yes, but there’s something else in your gut that has you shaking too.

“My love… m’sorry please, c-can we talk?” You know what’s going to happen, it’s fairly obvious, but a small part of you wants to beg your way out of it. If you can just sound scared enough, seem meek and cute enough, then maybe….

“Hii!” Your yelp is accompanied by the swish and slap of the switch hitting your bare ass.

“Namu Amidabutsu….” He’s murmuring now as a few tears slide down his cheeks, but as you jolt and attempt to get up because of the sting, a big palm is forcing you back down. Pinning you to his thigh as another strike lands and has you wailing. It’s a miserable sound, your little whines and cries pitiful and truly sounding sorry, but Gyomei is murmuring each offense he’s had to lock in his heart for every tiny lash against your soft doughy ass and thighs.

“hurting yourself…” “Mei! I’m sorry!”

“telling me I’m annoying…” “Sorry!”

“going to bed without me…” “p-please..”

“brushing me off…” “hck!”

“ignoring me…” “…sniff…”

“not saying you love me back…” only your pathetic whimpers are offered in consolation. The last offense even hurting you, because you don’t know why you did it, where it all came from. You just know you’re sobbing uncontrollably now. The pain on your bottom already fading, only some red lines detailing where he’d punished you. It didn’t matter, the flood gates had been opened, and you were a mess as you begged for forgiveness.

Even as your lower belly burned in heat and arousal. It was an odd combination, the release of such emotion and rush of pleasure from the strange intimacy of it all.

You jolt in surprise as his large palm softly passes over your sore and sensitive ass, the caress nearly consoling as you let yourself slowly relax.

“Mei…”

“Shh… you did so good my love. Thank you for being obedient.”

He let his other hand go free, throwing the switch far off. Cooing and gently patting down your hair. He seemed to melt into your sweet protective husband again. Except the hand that was so softly tracing your ass dipped lower, eliciting a moan as Gyomei allowed his thick finger to swipe over your drenched entrance.

“Crying here too…?” His tone is slightly teasing, but you can’t retort back as the rough and calloused digit rubs your clit with the arousal which leaked out of you now. Swirling and pressing even as your hips shake and wiggle and you moan into the blankets. The hand on your head tightens, so minutely you don’t notice until your face is unburied and your moans are forced to echo through the room. It’s not until he wiggles his finger into your tight cunt that you really feel like melting. Your whole body on fire as Gyomei slowly and nearly torturously slides in and out of you, rubbing around your gooey slick heat.

“Oh fuck Mei, please.” Your mewling in pleasure now, trying to arch your back further in his lap and buck your hips back into his hand. Fingers digging into the blankets and twisting the fabric as he adds another finger to your drooling hole.

“You really don’t deserve a reward.” You aren’t listening to him, not at all, as he finger fucks you. The sounds in the room becoming erotic, the wet squelching of your walls sucking in his fingers filthy. You’re closer than you’d ever been with him only mildly playing with you, absolutely teetering on the edges of an orgasm. Your body shaking, perspiration dotting your skin, as you wantonly cried out for your husband as you nearly reach your peak—

“No!” He slides his fingers out at the last moment. “Why’d you stop?” Your distress palpable as one hand reaches back to try and grab his wrist, to bring it back to your soaked pussy where you need it.

Instead you feel two wet fingers pressing against your lips until you open, his fingers invading your mouth now, to taste yourself and what could’ve been your release. His skin is rough even against your tongue, playing and teasing the muscle in your mouth as you begin to suck and lick.

“Good girl…” the praise goes right back to your neglected orgasm, your hips wiggling and body trying to push up. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with an audible pop, and you can barely see from the corner of your eye Gyomei lick the very same fingers he’d used on your cunt and mouth. You groan in arousal and frustration, but are smart enough to keep your comments to yourself.

“Do you wish to cum love?” You’ve never answered faster in your life.

“Yes! Please darling, I want to cum for you.”

His expression isn’t right, though his cheeks are flushed and breathing slightly heavy, he seems mildly amused.

“Then you’re going to work for it.”

Confused but not turned off by this dominant side of your husband, you agree softly, letting him move you so you’re sitting in his lap now. Legs spread and thighs hugging his waist.

His warm breath, the scent of sandalwood and wisteria clinging to his robes and skin, leaves you aching inside. He leans down, at firstly only lightly brushing his lips over yours before finally kissing you. The kiss turns deeper and more passionate by the second, Gyomei’s normally cautious and devote attitude towards you waning. He’s much rougher instead as your fingers sink into his clothing, his thick tongue sliding into your mouth and devouring you. His deep and vocal groan have you shaking again, this time in pure and carnal need for him.

You’re quick to try and remove his clothing, pawing clumsily while he still maintains his composure and slowly fulfills your silent request in stripping so you can feel his chest and body. Only able to receive at this moment and not take, mindlessly grinding against your husband’s still covered body.

Gyomei’s hands roam you, normally his favorite pass time just feeling and seeing you in his own way. Taking you in for all that you are. He’s not looking at you right now though, not as a hand cups your breast to roll and pinch your poor nipple before switching to the other for the same treatment. He’s not looking now, as he anchors your greedy movements and limits your range of motion with an arm around your waist. He’s feeling you, feeling your passion, and controlling it so skillfully it’s leaving you reeling and in a completely new space.

Once Gyomei is satisfied with your swollen wet lips, his own matching with a devastating smirk, he lifts you entirely up with one arm to yank and pull off any clothing preventing him from sinking his thick throbbing cock inside you.

“Gyomei oh!” He’s never fucked you with so little prep before, normally pulling at least two orgasms from your body before entering you… but entering like this—

“Tight—,” he hissed as the tip slides into your opening, splitting your pussy open and making room for each inch, “—relax my love.” Gyomei is cruel, impaling you on his enormous rod as you struggle to even breath right now. Choking on air as you try to relax, try to allow him inside you without tensing up and feeling even fuller if it were possible. A whimper escapes from Gyomei’s grit teeth, as he struggles to let gravity sink you down instead of his own strength stuffing you full. “Feels so good love, doing so well for me,” he grunts as he feels your walls pulse and flutter around him, milking his shaft as he mutters a few calming chants to keep himself from being too rough with you. Your moans and whimpers soon swallowed by another wet hot kiss, tongues dancing as you cry into Gyomei’s mouth when his tip pushes in enough that you feel a dull ache up inside you.

If you looked down, you’d see his thick cock protruding just a little from inside you. This position sinking him deep, your breathing ragged and uneven as you dig your nails into his biceps to ground yourself.

Your husband is not merciful tonight, the welts on your ass burning a bit from the hairs on his thighs and the position you’re in rubbing. The pain mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of being so full leaves you struggling to focus. Your hips trying to grind and move, to attach yourself close to Gyomei and rub your clit just enough on his pelvis to help you finish.

His hands halt you.

“Bounce.” With that command, he’s leaning back, shifting his cock further up inside you. “Oh hmn!” You try to scramble off a little, “S’too deep!”Gyomei lifts you a little, kind enough not to go too far yet with you, your pussy needing time to fully adjust and take him. On his back, he’s like a work of art laid out for you, scars adorning his skin like brush strokes of life. His muscles taunt as he breathes deeply, keeping still and letting you set the pace.

You start slow, the heavy drag of his cock in your walls actually taking leg work to pull up from. Your greedy cunt wrapped tightly around him and refusing to let go, but the pleasure increases along with your slick, allowing for an easier glide soon. Your body bounces, balls of your feet digging into the bed for stability as your thighs quake and you struggle to maintain composure. Your cries and Gyomei’s deep moans and breathless grunts have that tightness returning. Gyomei has a familiar itch in his chest as he listens and feels, desperate to look at you and see you come apart, but his hands can only move to cup your cheeks. Fingers caressing and moving over your face to feel you, the tears still drying and the wetness on your lips he left.

He can’t help the way his hips buck, fucking up into you. “Always taking me so well my love, just made for my cock.” He’s panting, loving how your little hands scramble on his skin to clutch onto him for purchase. “You don’t need to think anymore, do you?” He’s driven wild by your senseless babbling and noises, the sounds of skin slapping as you try to match his erratic thrusts, the feeling of your combined fluids beginning to make you both sticky. The way you smell, your soft natural musk making his mouth water and thighs clench. He’s slightly disappointed not having fucked your hole first with his tongue, so he could gather the taste of you on his lips before he’d slid his cock inside you.

“Oh,” you feel like a rag doll, Gyomei’s hands roaming your face and body so sweet compared to the way he was bullying his tip against your cervix. Driving you further into a mindless whore, desperate for the orgasm you seem to keep being denied. It hurt but it felt too good for you to ask for a break, a deep trust still built between you both, and if you begged him to to stop he would. You were so close, just on the edge, and every moment you’d almost shatter is the time Gyomei would thrust. Breaking your concentration and starting you all over.

Your thighs are aching from the strain of exertion, your movements slowing down, sweat sliding down your body and making it harder to grip on to Gyomei.

You were getting tired, your release so close. “Husband, my love, p-please, please I need to cum.” You sound broken, voice hoarse from all of your crying and moaning. “I can’t do it anymore, I need you, need you please darling.” Gyomei has always adored the sound of your voice, but he adores this voice of yours probably the most.

“Since you’ve asked nicely.” Your world spins, before you feel yourself enveloped in the softness of your bed, your husband now looming over you and covering you completely. His lips capture yours, moaning into the kiss as he easily spreads your legs, one thigh encouraged to wrap around his waist while he holds the other up. He’s sliding in much easier now, the squelch of your pussy nearly drown out by your cry of pleasure. Each inch filling you up once more, but now you’re not in control. Gyomei’s thrusts are deep and heavy no matter how gentle he attempts to be. Your body jolting with his movements, even as he begins slowly.

“I’m going to make you cum my love, shh, you’re fine, breathe,” he’s speeding up, your eyes rolling back as you feel your limits nearing dangerously close with your orgasm, “Keep taking me just like this.” His husky tone is debauched as he moans your name, his muscles taunt as he worked his tip into a familiar spot inside you which he knows drives you wild.

“Mei, oh please, yes, I-I’m g-gonna—“ it’s a wonder if he’s showing mercy when he begins to fully fuck his entire length into you or not. Either way, the cord inside you finally snaps, a silent cry on your lips as your back arches off the mattress. Gyomei is quick to shift, dropping your thigh in favor of gripping your ass and angling your hips higher for himself to pave a new path inside of you with his cock. Your spasming cunt creaming around him doesn’t slow his pace, seemingly intent on fucking you stupid now. You’re used like a toy now, too weak to fully contribute more than your sounds of ecstasy and nail marks in his forearms or chest where you can reach.

“That’s it love, just let me use you now. You don’t need to do anything else but take it.” His words are mixed with desperate grunts and even something akin to a growl deep in his chest.

“Please s’too- ngh” Your soft body is pliant in his hold, which Gyomei is happy to fold up. Your pussy finally stretched enough to accommodate all of his length and girth without the pain which has you whining and scrambling away from him.

“Can’t—no—,” even as the words leave your lips, you’re wracked again by another climax as Gyomei rubs your swollen clit with his thumb. The gentle rolling motions juxtaposed to his rough drilling inside your gummy walls.

“Do you want me to—hah—fill you up?” His skin is soaked in sweat like yours, rolling down his muscles and creating nearly a dreamy state from the heat you both radiated in the cool room.

You didn’t even think about before you started begging.

“Yes Mei, fill me please, need— oh fuck—“ He’s pressed so close to you, his weight nearly a burden until thankfully he uses a free hand to keep himself up as his dick throbs and twitches inside you. Each hot rope of cum filling you up, space limited with Gyomei inside, leading it to spill out the sides and down his heavy balls. His hips still, panting above you while his pleasure and orgasm wash over him.

“So lovely.” He murmurs as he pulls out, your legs going limp as Gyomei’s cum leaks out of your body with the absence of his cock to keep you plugged. A kiss to your forehead and cheeks, then your neck and chest, and down your stomach has your twitching.

It’s not until you feel his lips on your inner thigh that you realize what he’s doing.

“I already came twice…” your little unspoken plea not convincing enough.

“Then cum again my love.” His wide flat tongue begins boldly on your slit. Lapping up his own cum leaking out of you as well as your own. His muffled moan against you has your hands twisting into his hair, tugging for more or less unclear as you writhe. Strong licks are soon accompanied by two fingers, intent on prodding and stretching you out more. The wet spot beneath you growing bigger by the minute as Gyomei passionately eats your pussy. Your scent and his was a delirious combination that has his length hardening again, rutting against the soft sheets and blankets you’ve both sullied. When your thighs twitch and close around his face, he doubles his efforts, lightly sucking on your clit while flicking it with the tip of tongue, fingers curling and fucking you perfectly until you shatter again.

The pressure of his fingers in that spot leaving your body no choice as you squirt, soaking his lower face and body. His smile blocked by your twitching and crying figure, your head thrown back as you try to push his face away, his fingers still move inside you.

You can’t even speak anymore, mindlessly moaning even as tears flow down your cheeks.

Finally he gives reprieve, removing his hand and only softly licking up your release, not attempting to further arouse you.

You lay panting, unfocused and tired red rimmed eyes staring at your completely recovered husband. His dick hard, the heavy weight of it not allowing it to stand at full attention, gravity pulling it down.

A bad feeling entered your gut.

You listened to it this time. Flipping onto your stomach, you’re quick to make an eecape from under him. Just as your legs drag up to let you get off the bed, Gyomei’s hand is around an ankle. Tugging you back with a laugh not suitable for the situation, nearly mocking.

“My love, I didn’t say we were done. Where are you going?” He’s speaking and moving at the same time, a hand on your hip pulling you up onto all fours as his tip finds your messy entrance.

A strange warbled noise leaves your throat when he shoves the entire thing inside in one go. Instantly filling you and leaving you no room to move or breathe as the room spins.

Gyomei isn’t any better off. Your tight pussy overstimulating him, your body beneath his hands making him lose focus. He wants to fuck you harder, be rougher, let you see how much he’s been holding back this entire time.

He’s not gentle. His pace brutal from the start, one hand on your hip to keep you up, and another wrapped around you belly. Feeling the tip of his cock through you with each thrust, his moans mingling with your broken cries. Your face in the blankets, hands clutching onto the fabric for comfort as your husband claims you in a way he’s never done before.

You don’t want it to stop. Even as you feel like you’re losing your sanity, as your thighs and ass burn from your punishment, the literal force of his body against yours too much. You want him to break you, leave you nothing but a mess for his pleasure for once.

“Ngh, do you like this love? See how much I hold back for—ah—you?” He’s hardly thrusting as he is yanking you back onto his cock, your limp body easily sliding on and off.

“Should I keep you like this all night?” He knows you can’t answer, you can hardly cry out anymore.

“I’ve missed you my love, missed your sweet words, your love and sincerity, and your body.” It’s a very romantic and Gyomei like confession, but your fucked out brain registers nothing anymore, still too focused on the orgasm you’re going to have again.

“Are you lonely my dear? Should I make sure you’re with child come morning?” He’s taken back by how badly that scenario arouses him. Would it help you feel less stressed while he was away to not be alone? To have children love and help care for you with him?

He’s pounding you, your drenched face rubbing against the sheets as you’re dragged back and forth like a doll. Mouth open and drooling as you cum again, this time followed by Gyomei who nearly shouts as his orgasm hits. His own body shaking and trembling from the force of pleasure bleeding into his system.

You’re wrapped in strong arms and rolled to your side, Gyomei’s semi-hard cock still nestled inside you with his cum as his lips find whatever available skin he can kiss.

“I love you my dearest, thank you for being mine… was I too rough with you?” Gyomei waits a while for an answer that does not come, until he realizes you’re completely passed out. Limp and exhausted, you must’ve lost consciousness on your last orgasm.

Chuckling, he’s kind enough to clean you up, change the sheets to dry ones, and cuddle up with in your shared bed. His breathing quick to even out with yours, holding you in his arms.

Come morning, there’s plenty of time to talk as you lay bed ridden, your patient and dutiful husband happy to care for you. The conversation leading to deeper understand between one another, and a realization to your behavior and feelings being linked with stress and anxiety.

While you feel comforted and sure to take good care of your husband in the future, you do take note of what acting out gets you.

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 29

Warnings: major angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of an ED. get your tissues out, brace yourself for some pain. I cried and so will you. I'm so sorry for this.

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

Summary: Steve shows up at your doorsteps and you take care of him, the way you always did.

Word count: 10.5k+

A/N: shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, I couldn't do this without you Roe, I would've given up, this was so hard for me to write. I need therapy now. Also thank you to my sweet angel bff @taintedcigs for being there for me while I was losing it, you're both real ones

To make this even sadder, listen to the 1, the last time, betty, the outro of all too well by Taylor Swift. Oh and Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers. Thank me later.

series masterlist

-

It’s still pouring, the rain is still rolling down your closed windows and the lightning continues to crash through the sky. You can’t fall asleep. You’ve been trying to since you came home, but you can’t. You thought a hot shower would help make you tired, but it didn’t. Now you’re laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling.

You are too giddy to fall asleep. Your heart is still racing. Your skin still feels on fire. You can’t even fight the smile off your face. You feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin, him. You regret not letting him come home with you. Your bed has never felt emptier. You turn to look at the telephone on your nightstand, contemplating giving him a call but you decide against it when you take a look at the clock, it’s 3am. He must be sleeping already. 

Your eyes fall on the picture that wiped the smile off your face when you walked into your room earlier. A sigh falls from your lips. You need to talk to him. You need to talk to Steve. 

This night has changed everything. 

Your feelings have changed. They have evolved into something even bigger. You have been aware of your feelings for Eddie for a while now, but you never let them out completely. You were too afraid, too scared to get rejected, too scared to lose him because you once again, couldn’t stop yourself from falling for your best friend. 

Your best friend who wants you just as much as you want him. 

Your stomach flutters and a smile tugs at your lips – your lips that are still tingling from the feeling of all the kisses. You touch them, closing your eyes as you picture him, the way he held you, the way he said your name, the way he couldn’t get enough of you, the way he was so proud to call himself yours. He’s been dreaming about this, he’s been dreaming about you for months.

You never thought that you could feel this way again. You never thought that you could smile again at the thought of someone else. You never thought that you would love again. 

Not after him. 

Steve had shattered your heart in a million pieces. He stripped you of your powers. He took everything away from you. He made you doubt yourself and everyone around you. You suffered for weeks and months, not knowing how to keep going, not knowing how to get out of bed every morning. You stopped eating. You stopped reading. You lost your joy in the things you used to love doing. You felt so lost and hopeless but you forced yourself to keep going. It felt like learning how to walk again. 

But you weren’t alone, you had the people who cared for you. 

But most importantly, you had him. Eddie was there. Eddie was there for you, every step of the way. He never left, not even on your worst days. He was there, he was always there and he stayed. 

Your heart skips a beat and your chest fills with warmth when you think of all the times he cheered you up and gave you a shoulder to cry on. When he took care of you despite you not asking him to. He stopped by the coffee shop every morning to get you a coffee and some breakfast, sometimes he came late to school because of it but he didn’t care. He’d take you out to the diner, knowing that you haven’t been eating, he brought you your favorite snacks for movie nights. He knew you were struggling to eat and he did everything to help you without pressuring you to talk about something that he knew would make you uncomfortable. 

He gave you the reassurance that you needed.

He took care of you in ways no one else ever did. 

And he never asked for anything back either.

He just did it because he wanted to, because he cares about you, because you mean something to him, because you always meant something to him, because you were always something more than a friend to him and he always wanted what’s best for you. All while watching you pine after a guy who broke your heart. He even gave you hope that maybe, you and Steve could find your way back to each other someday – all just because he wanted you to be happy. 

You don’t know what comes over you, but tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie always just wanted you to be happy. 

You sit up, no longer wanting to wait for the next day to come, you need to see him now. 

You throw the cover off your body, your bare feet hit the soft carpet. Your hair is still a little wet from the shower you took but you couldn’t care less. You turn on the light on your nightstand before you rush over to your closet and pick out a sweater, not bothering to change into jeans or a skirt, you leave your plaid pajama pants on and throw the black sweater over your head. 

Your heart is pounding in excitement when you think about how he kissed you before you left, how he didn’t want to leave, how he wanted more and more. You can’t wait to do it again. You can’t wait to pull him into a kiss, to hug him, to tell him what you should’ve told him a long time ago. 

You take a look in the mirror, smoothing out your hair a little, you put perfume on your skin before you turn around and leave your room, slowly creeping down the stairs, not wanting to wake your mom. You leave the light off as you slip into your Vans, you grab your car keys and you open the door, about to step into night but the smile that was lingering on your face fades away so quickly when you find Steve on your doorsteps. 

Steve who was just about to ring the doorbell. 

Steve who is soaked from the rain, despite driving here. You can see his BMW in your driveway. How long has he been standing out in the rain? 

It takes you a moment to realize the state he is in. 

His face is not only soaked from the rain, it’s also soaked with tears. His eyes are red and glassy. His bottom lip is trembling. His body is shaking and you don’t know whether it’s from the tears or the cold rain. He is barely standing and as you take a step closer, you can smell the whiskey in his breath. 

Your heart drops to your stomach when you realize that he drove here drunk. 

“Steve?” You whisper as though in disbelief. 

What is he doing here at 3am? Why is he crying? 

Drops of water roll down his face, his hazel eyes are filled with pain as tears continue to fall from them. 

He says your name with a pained voice, shakily and sadly. 

“I-I needed to see you.”

Your heart breaks at the trembling in his voice. 

You furrow your brows, looking him up and down in concern. 

What happened to him?

“Dolly, I’m so– I’m so sorry,” he slurs as a sob falls from his lips. He loses his balance and stumbles forward, almost crashing to the ground, but you catch him, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him up as best as you can. He instantly latches onto you, pulling you against him and holding you tightly. 

You blink in confusion, your heart starts pounding faster. 

He is crying, he is still crying, holding you tighter than before as he buries his face in your neck. You let him. Despite the confusion that is rushing through you, you let him hold you like this for a moment, only letting go to close the front door and taking the keys from his hands, before you wrap your arms around him again. The rain is soaking through your clothes, his tears are falling onto you, he is holding you so tightly, like he’s afraid to let you go. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you rub his back, not knowing what else to do. 

Did he get into a fight with his dad again? 

“I got you, Steve.”

Your words seem to make it even worse though, his body starts shaking even more as soft sobs fall from his lips. He grabs the material of your sweater so tightly, mumbling incoherent words into your neck. 

You feel so helpless, not knowing what to do or what to say, so you just hold him. 

This happened before, him showing up at your house in the middle of the night, drunk out of his mind with tears streaming down his face, he collapsed into your arms the moment you opened the door, rambling and slurring out words. You later on found out that he had gotten into a fight with his dad about his grades and his future. 

But that wasn’t all, you just don’t know the rest of the story, Steve never told you about the things his dad had said to him – how you would leave if he didn’t get his shit together, how you would go off to college by yourself and learn how to live without him, how he would stay back in Hawkins while you would live your life somewhere else without him. 

He is sobbing quietly, keeping his face buried in your neck, melting further into your arms. 

“Steve,” you whisper as you rub your hand up and down his spine. You longingly look at the keys you’re still holding, a soft sigh falling from your lips. You won’t see him tonight. “Come on.” 

“N-No,” he mumbles, thinking you want him to leave. 

“Let’s go upstairs, Steve.” 

You let go of him and grab his arms softly, trying to move back. 

He sniffles as he loosens his grip on you, leaning back, he looks at you through his glassy eyes. He takes in the sight of your face, taking a moment to look at you. 

You don’t know what’s going on in his troubled mind but his eyes tell you that he is suffering, and looking at you, makes him cry even harder. Though this time, he presses his lips together, trying not to sob. 

Your own eyes fill with sadness the longer you look at him. You move your palm down his arm, taking his hand, you hold it tightly as you lead him towards the stairs. You drop both yours and his keys on the counter, taking another sad look at them before you turn to Steve, making sure that he doesn’t stumble again. He is taking slow but shaky steps, holding your hand tighter than before. 

You look up, hoping that you didn’t wake your mom. 

You step into your room and you close the door after he walks in, noticing that you forgot to turn off the light earlier. 

His sniffles quiet down and you think the worst is over, that he calmed down after letting his tears fall, the tears that he probably kept in for way too long. Steve rarely ever cries or breaks down, he hates it, he hates being vulnerable. So, he keeps it in and he lets all his emotions pile up until there’s no space left. 

A look around your room, a glance at a picture of you and him, and the closed window is enough to make him cry again. He lets go of you and hides his face behind his hands. 

You feel so lost and don’t know what to do. Not even the worst fight with his dad resulted in this. Your own eyes well up with tears, your heart breaks at the sound of his cries. He once again, collapses into your arms the moment you take a step towards him, this time you lose your balance and your knees buckle causing you both to fall. You drop to your knees as he does too, still holding onto you, tighter than before if that is even possible. He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in your chest this time. 

“Steve,” you whisper shakily, on the verge of breaking down yourself when he clings to you like he never did before. You know it must be bad. 

He feels your hand running down his back, cupping the back of his head, trying to calm him down as you do your best to comfort him. He breathes you in, something that makes his heart shatter even more. 

“I-I ruined everything,” he sobs into your chest. “I ruined you, I broke your heart, I broke you,” he slurs. “I-I was.. I found your note, I never read it. I never said I love you, I just, I didn’t say it back, I didn’t say I love you, I didn’t– I put it away, I didn’t read it until now.” 

Oh. 

Now you understand. 

You furrow your brows and your eyes blur with tears. 

It doesn’t break your heart to find out that he never read that note, it didn’t matter anyway, he dumped you the next day. You got your answer. But your heart hurts for the girl you once were. The girl who loved him so unconditionally. The girl who cried herself to sleep after each fight. The girl who just wanted him to love her back. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and tighten your hold on him. 

“It’s okay, Steve.”

He shakes his head and he pulls back a little, looking at you with his sad eyes. 

You nod before he can protest. You let go of him to cup his cheeks, trying to wipe the tears, but they keep falling and falling. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, trying to convince him but his hazel eyes look back at you so brokenly. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, reaching his hands up to grab your wrists. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to you, dolly.”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, not letting you. 

“Please forgive me,” he cries. 

“Steve..” You frown, trying to catch the tears that keep escaping his eyes. You forgave him already. You forgave him because you never wanted to lose him. The past cannot be erased, not even if you were pained or happy, so the only thing is to look forward, and you don’t want to lose him in the future. He needs to understand that but no matter what you say now, he won’t listen. 

“Dolly, you don’t understand.” As he says these words to you, he looks at you with pleading eyes. 

You shake your head, a pained expression taking over your face. 

He opens his mouth to speak when a knock on your door interrupts him. You tear your eyes away from him, looking at your door, startled. 

Your mom’s voice sounds through the hallway as she knocks on your door again, “is everything okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, hold on!” You call out to her before you turn back to him. Moving your hands down to his arms. “Come on, let’s get you up.” 

He doesn’t protest, instead he takes your hands and stands up with you.

You lead him towards your bed and push him down, placing your hands on his shoulders, you look into his eyes, “I should go talk to my mom, she’s probably worried about the noises.”

He sniffles, nodding at you. 

Before you can move away, your door opens, the light in the hallways shining into your room. You’re met with your mom’s concerned eyes, she looks at you first before her eyes find Steve’s figure sitting on your bed. Her eyes widen and she gasps as she takes in the sight of him. 

“Steve, honey, you don’t look good, are you okay?” 

That only seems to make him sadder. No sounds escape him but the tears fall even harder than before and the urge to break down yourself feels stronger than ever. 

Your mom looks just as helpless as you do, you may not talk to her about your feelings but she can read you like an open book, and right now, she can see how much you’re suffering too. 

“We’re okay, mom. I-I got this, you should go back to sleep.” 

She hesitates. Looking at you with worried eyes. 

You nod at her, pleading with your tear filled eyes. 

She sighs, face falling a little. You feel bad for shutting her out but she had enough to deal with herself in the past few years, she shouldn’t deal with your problems now too. 

She nods at you, taking another look at Steve before her eyes meet yours again, “let me know if you need anything.” 

“I will, mom.”

She closes the door, leaving you alone with him. 

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep and shaky breath, trying to fight the tears. 

He is still holding your hand and crying his eyes out. 

You take a look at him and suddenly feel like throwing up because of the overwhelming pressure in your chest. You can’t take this. 

He looks up at you, tears rolling down his red cheeks, he looks so heartbroken and you can’t stand to see him like this. It hurts so bad. It fills you with so much sadness but also with anger because none of this would have happened if he wouldn’t have changed his mind about you. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, you’re gonna get sick if you stay in these any longer.” 

You turn around, letting go of his hand, you walk to your closet and open the door, taking out the box that you’ve been meaning to give him back months ago. You take the lid off and rummage through it until you find what you’re looking for, one of his old shirts. The whole time, you’re biting back tears, not wanting to cry. It’s hard not to when you have to face him again. 

Why does he have to begin this over and over again? 

You’ve been here before. You’ve done this time and time. You forgave him already, you gave him a second chance, you were ready to move on. 

Why does he have to do this now? 

He is staring at you with a sullen look in his eyes, there is so much sadness, so much pain and heartbreak in the eyes you used to love so much. 

“Here,” you whisper, placing the shirt on your bed, beside him. “Take your shirt off, Steve.” 

He can barely see through his vision, his bottom lip is trembling, his hands are shaking, his whole body is shaking from both the coldness that is seeping through his shirt and the pain that he put himself in. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, clumsily. 

You sigh and step towards him, leaning down, you push his hands away gently, grabbing the wet material and pulling the shirt over his head. 

“Do you want to take a warm shower?” You ask, putting your hands on his cold arms. “You’re freezing, Steve.”

He shakes his head. 

“Okay,” you sigh and hand him the black shirt. “Here, put this one.” 

“Okay,” he whispers, watching you take his wet shirt and walking into the bathroom. His eyes follow you like the ones of a lost puppy. He no longer feels the tears running down his face, he’s been crying all night, his chest has been hurting badly from the moment he started reading old notes. The way you’re taking care of him after everything that he has done to you, makes him feel even worse.  

You walk back into the room a moment later. 

He is wiping his tears away after putting the shirt on. You can tell that he tries to hold himself together, not wanting to break into sobs again, but you know that he is struggling to with his emotions in overdrive and the alcohol in his system. 

“I’m gonna get you some water–”

“No, please don’t leave me.”

You had never heard him sound so heartbroken, so desperate and scared. 

You had never seen him look like this, so fragile and broken. 

“Please.”

He takes your hand in his. 

“I don’t… I don’t deserve you–”

You sigh, shaking your head as you sit down beside him. 

“Steve, stop! We’re friends, we’re over this okay? You need to stop doing this, we talked it all out. I forgave you–”

He shakes his head, catching you off guard when he moves towards you and cups your cheeks. 

“I wanted everything with you. I wanted you to be the one so bad. I know we were too young to think so far ahead but.. I wanted it all with you, I wanted to marry you and have kids with you but then I fucked it all up, I ruined everything. I-I don’t know what happened to me, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and why I break everything.” 

Your eyes widen in shock, tears you can no longer hold back fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You are too stunned to speak. 

You never knew how he truly felt about you and about your future together. You knew that he wanted to go to college with you but that was the only part about your shared future that was mentioned – aside from the promise he made to never stop loving you. 

Despite the state of shock that you’re in, you cannot help but cry for the girl that wanted it all with him. 

“I don’t deserve you, fuck. I don’t deserve you– and you don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve someone like me, you don’t deserve how I treated you, you don’t deserve how I made you feel, you don’t deserve the pain I made you go through, because you’re so good, and so perfect, and I destroyed that.. I destroyed you.” His voice is so shaky, his tears won’t stop falling, neither do yours. But he wipes them away softly. 

Your bottom lip trembles as you look at him in pain. 

“Steve..”

He searches for something in your eyes – anger, hatred, rage. But he can’t find any of it. After everything that he put you through, you still got love for him and it makes him hate himself even more.

He knew what he did to you, what he put you through. Yet, only tonight it really sank in, how much he truly hurt you. How much he hurt that one person that he would give everything for – his heart, his soul, everything. 

“I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” His voice breaks and he closes his eyes as he lets his head hang low. Only a second passes, before you pull him into your arms again. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper. 

It’s not okay. How could it ever be okay? 

He left a deep scar, one that you will carry for the rest of your life and there is nothing he can do to fix it. 

He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in, closer and closer until you’re flush against him, in search of your warmth, he buries his face in your neck. He breathes you in and holds you tightly, like it’s the last time. Enjoying the feeling of your hand running up and down his spine as your other hand cups the back of his head. His lips touch your skin, he is unaware of the marks on your neck. He is unaware of who’s hands, who’s lips have touched your body tonight. 

“I’m still your dolly, Steve,” you whisper into his shoulder. 

Yes, you are still his best friend. 

Still his dolly. 

But never his girl again. 

You stare into nothing as you hold him, breathing slowly. Your lips are pressed against his shoulder, you tighten your arms around him even when his cries quiet down and his breathing slows down, you still hold him, not ready to let go just yet. 

The room becomes silent, so silent that you suddenly miss the sound of his voice. 

“Steve?” You whisper. 

His head is laying on your shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. You know that he had fallen asleep but you still whisper his name again. When you get no response, you move back slowly, careful not to wake him. You push him down softly, adjusting the pillow beneath him. 

Your eyes soften as you take in the sight of him. You scoot closer to him, bringing your hands up to his face, you wipe the fallen tears and caress his cheek. Running your fingers through his hair and pushing away the fallen strands. 

You blink, feeling the hot tears burning in your eyes. 

The joy in your heart faded the moment he crashed into your arms. Right now, it’s just hurting. 

You know why he came here tonight. 

Not for comfort. Not for a second chance. Not for forgiveness. No. He came to end things, once and for all. 

With a heavy heart, you tear your eyes away from him and push yourself up. You lean down to take his Nike’s off, you lift his legs up on the bed and grab the covers, pulling them up to his chest. You notice the wristband, the one you gave him two nights ago, he is wearing it. 

You can’t remember the last time he was here in your room, let alone in your bed. It’s odd, almost strange to see him here. 

You look out your window, noticing that the rain has stopped falling. You hear the tires of a car screeching through the night. Jimmy Davidson must be back from college, you think. The jock is the only in town who drives like a maniac – well, besides Billy Hargrove and Eddie. 

You take one last look at him before you turn around and leave your room, wanting to grab some water and advil for him. You close the door carefully and make your way downstairs. 

You notice that the lights are on in the kitchen. The smell of hot chocolate lingers in the air. Your mom is still awake. You find her sitting at the table by the window, with a magazine in front of her. A blanket around her shoulder and glasses perched on her nose.

You feel bad for waking her up, knowing that she works the morning shift this week. But just her presence alone gives you the comfort that you so desperately need, right now. 

She looks up when she feels your presence. She takes her reading glasses off and places them on the table, pushing the blanket off as she stands up, she wastes no second to make her way towards you, the same concerned look as before resting in her features. 

“Is Steve okay?” 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking the tears away. 

“Yeah. He’s sleeping now.”

She knows that you’re not telling her everything, you never are. 

Sighing, she raises her hand towards your face, cupping your cheek as she gives you a smile, a sad one. 

“Are you okay?” 

Tears that you have just blinked away, well up in your eyes again. This time you hesitate. This time you can’t tell her that you feel okay or even good. You can’t hold your feelings back, not tonight. 

“You can talk to me. You never do and you always hold yourself back with me. I am your mother and I will listen to you, I’m here for you. So please, talk to me, sweetheart.” 

You look into her kind eyes and you suddenly feel like breaking down. You have been holding back for so long, hiding your true feelings, not letting them shine through out of fear that this would happen. 

But everything is crumbling now, all the last pieces that were holding you and Steve together had fallen apart the moment you had broken the barrier and kissed him. 

You don’t know where to start, there is so much to tell. 

So, you start with something you’ve been dying to get off your chest. 

“I love Eddie, mom.”

It feels like a relief to finally say it out loud, the words that you kept away for so long are now out in the open and.. it feels right. 

You watch for surprise to flash in her eyes but there is none. In fact, she doesn’t give you much of a reaction at all. A knowing look crosses her face, that’s all. 

“Is that why Steve was crying?”

You shake your head. 

“No. He doesn’t know,” you mumble, looking down. “I haven’t told him yet.”

“Then what happened to him?” 

You can hear the worry in her voice. You wonder if it will still be there when you tell her what he did to you. You never told her why he left. You never told her how much he hurt you. You never wanted her to think badly of him, not even after he broke your heart so carelessly. 

It feels like the world is weighing on your shoulders and the urge to throw it off feels so strong. You’ve been carrying it around for too long. 

“He came to apologize, to ask for forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” She asks. “Did you two get into a fight?” 

“No, mom.” 

She tilts her head, giving you a questioning look. 

“Can we sit down?” You nudge your chin towards the table. “It’s a lot to talk about.”

She nods, a smile tugging at her lips. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and she leads you to the table. 

You sit down by the window and watch her move to the other side. She doesn’t take a seat though, instead she grabs the blanket and walks back to you, wrapping it around your shoulders and stepping away for a moment. 

Your eyes follow her in curiosity. 

She grabs your favorite mug from the cupboard and places it on the counter. 

You prop your chin on your palm and watch how she makes you a hot chocolate, the way you always loved it, with mini marshmallows on top. 

As you watch her move around in the kitchen, you realize how much you have missed this, how much you have missed your mom. This reminds you of older days, simpler days. Days where you had woken up from nightmares and sneaked into your parents room to wake your mom. She always knew how to comfort you. Instead of taking you back to bed and reading you a story, she always took you downstairs, made you hot chocolate and let you talk about whatever had troubled your young mind. 

And now you’re so much older and you don’t talk anymore. But you need to, you need to talk about it all so badly. So, you do. 

You tell her everything – from the sweetest note, to your overthinking, to all the fights she never knew about, to Nancy, to Tina’s Halloween party, to Eddie… You tell her absolutely everything. 

Tears fall as you talk about it all with a heavy heart. Relieving all the painful moments of your life and feeling the guilt of watching her eyes flash with sadness when she finally finds out the truth.

How you cried yourself to sleep. How you stopped eating and pretended to be okay in front of everyone. How heartbroken you were after he left. How unloved you felt for so long. How you have lost yourself after losing him before Eddie stepped into your life. How much Steve changed because of her. How he came back to you. How much he cared about you after all. How much he loved you after all. 

And as you finally talk, you can feel the weight getting lighter and lighter, falling off your shoulders but not completely. Not yet. But you let it all out, just like you tried with Robin but this feels different, your mom doesn’t try to lecture you, she doesn’t tell you what to do, what’s right and what’s wrong – she just listens because she knows that this is what you need. 

To talk, to cry, to feel. 

And when your tears stop falling and you calm down, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“You are such a brave girl. I know you had your friends with you, and Eddie especially. But you didn’t have to be alone in this. I was here. I have always been here, my sweet girl. You were never alone, you were never unloved.”

You close your eyes, ignoring the trembling in your lips and the shakiness in your hands as you hug her tightly, laying your chin on her shoulder. She rubs your back and squeezes you. 

In her arms you feel safe and comforted, you don’t need to hide, you don’t need to feel embarrassed or scared. You’re just safe and at home. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mom,” you whisper when you realize how lost you’d truly be if you didn’t have her. “I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’ll always be here, sweetheart.” 

You sniffle, falling silent again. 

“You know.. I always knew by the way.”

“Huh?”

“That you loved Eddie.”

Shocked at her words, you pull away from the hug and stare at her with wide eyes. 

“I know how to see your emotions through your eyes, my love. I am not your mother for nothing,” she laughs while wiping away your fallen tears, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You roll your eyes with a soft smile on your face. 

“And I also knew about Eddie’s feelings. That boy would blush every time he came to pick you up and you would come down with a new dress or skirt. I don’t know how you didn’t see his ears getting all red.” 

Your eyes grow bigger, softening after her words as you’re beaming at her.

“You think he loves me, mom?”

She giggles, staring at you as though you’ve gone crazy. 

“Someone would have to be blind and deaf to not notice that.” 

You blush at her words, though you can’t hide the excitement that crosses your face when you think about him, when you think about seeing him later. You look at each other, as though she can read your mind, you both start giggling. 

She looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand. 

“You know that I’m proud of you, right?” She smiles. “You’re so strong. You have always been a fighter.”

“No. Not always,” you shake your head. “I didn’t always fight for what I wanted.” 

“But now you do, right?” 

You nod.

“Yeah, now I do.”

Your mom looks towards the stairs. You know what’s on her mind. You saw the disappointment, the anger and the sadness in her eyes when you told her the truth about Steve. 

You know that she isn’t angry at him – she would have been had you told her the truth from the start. But a year has passed and things have changed. Steve has changed. You have changed. And despite what you have gone through, you still love him.

And that is another reason for your tears. Steve has always been a part of your life and she knows that you are afraid to lose him again. You might lose your best friend. 

“And do you still love Steve?” 

“I do..” You whisper. “That’s why it’s all so.. complicated.” 

“Is it?” She asks, giving you a small smile. “Or do you make it complicated?”

You tilt your head, raising your brows at her question. 

“You can love them both and they will both be special to you, no matter what. But you can be in love with only one person.” 

You let her words sink in, but your heart only hurts more. 

You have been here so many times already. You have told yourself that you let him go, you have convinced yourself that you did but did you ever let him go? Did you ever allow yourself to move past it? No. Because letting go of him always filled you with so much fear. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” 

The pain in your eyes is very telling. The sadness gives away who you are talking about. 

“But the love you once had for him is somewhere else now, right?” 

You’re biting back tears. And after a few minutes of silence, you nod. 

“I love Eddie, mom. I really really love Eddie.” 

She smiles at your words, taking your hand, she looks into your eyes. 

“You know what you have to do then.. right?” 

You nod, getting sadder each passing second. 

“Yes,” you whisper. “I just– I don’t want to hurt him anymore.”

“You will hurt him more if you don’t talk to him. You need to give him closure. It’s the right thing to do, and it’s the only way the two of you can be happy.”

“I know,” you whisper, shakily. 

She gives you an encouraging smile, “you got this, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“I hope so..”

She holds your hand a little tighter, giving it a squeeze. 

“You should get some sleep. You can sleep in my bed if you don’t wanna go back there. I gotta start getting ready for work now.”

“Already?” You frown as you turn around to look at the clock. It’s 4:30 am already. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry for keeping you up. You really needed your sleep.”

She shakes her head at you, “no, it’s okay. I’m glad you finally talked to me.”

You smile at her, tilting your head to the side, “me too.”

“Take it easy, okay?” 

You nod. 

She gives your hand a pat before she gets up, ruffling your hair playfully as she moves past you, making you chuckle. 

“Hey mom?” 

She turns around before stepping out into the hallway, looking back at you. 

“Thank you.”

Her gaze softens, brows knitting together.

“Of course, sweetie,” the soft sound of your mom’s voice sounds through the kitchen. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

“Okay,” you nod. 

She gives you another smile before she turns around, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

With a sigh, you look down and reach for the now half empty mug, you pull your knees up to your chest, taking a sip of the hot chocolate as you look out the window. 

It’s still dark out, the world is still sleeping, and you enjoy the last moments of this.

You’re not ready for the morning to come. 

You’re still not ready. 

-

Steve’s head is pounding, the pain is excruciating. He can’t open his eyes, not yet. The sun that is shining into the room is too bright. A groan falls from his lips and he clutches the pillow beneath his head, squeezing his eyes shut after trying to open them. 

He hears the birds chirping outside, he must have left his window open last night. He smells the fresh air, it instantly calms the sickening feeling in his chest a little. He sinks into the pillows and breathes in. 

The sweet and floral scent is so pleasant, it smells like you. He takes another deep breath, he smells your perfume, your shampoo, your vanilla body wash. His heart flutters and he can’t help but melt into the warmth of the bed and the scents that linger. He feels safe and comforted. 

It takes him a moment to realize that his pillows shouldn’t smell like you or your perfume. His bed isn’t usually this comfortable either. 

Steve opens his eyes slowly, groaning in pain when the light shines directly into his face. Hiding behind his hands, he sits up. He rubs his eyes and runs his hand through his messy hair. Turning his back to the window, he squints his eyes as he opens them again, trying to get used to the light. 

His throat feels so dry that it hurts and his head is killing him. He can still taste the whiskey on his tongue, it makes him nauseous. 

Once his eyes are fully adjusted to the light, he takes a look around the room and his heart skips in his chest, his red rimmed eyes widen when he realizes where he is. 

His stomach drops when he finds Advil on your nightstand next to a glass of water. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans as he buries his face back in his hands. Dread fills him when he starts to remember the previous night. 

The note. The Whiskey that he stole from his dad’s office. The tears that streamed down his face when he carelessly drove to your house drunk. You. He remembers the way you held him, the way you cried too. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, tugging at his hair. 

He chugs down the glass of water and after a moment of hesitation, he gets up from your bed and looks down at himself, noticing the new– well, old shirt. He puts on his Nike’s and walks into your bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but when he turns on the light and he takes a look into the mirror, he can’t help but feel sick. His eyes are red and puffy from all the crying, his skin looks pale and his hair has never looked worse than it does right now. 

He shakes his head at himself, hating his reflection more than anything, right now. 

With a sigh, he looks down, gripping the counter tightly, knowing that he has to face you now. 

He knows that there’s a small chance that you aren’t home, that you have left. But he knows that you wouldn’t do it while he is here, not even if you’re upset with him. 

After washing his face with cold water and using your mouth wash to get rid of that awful taste of whiskey, he walks back into your room, trying not to let the sadness take hold of him again but it’s hard not to fall into the pit of darkness again when he stands inside the room of the girl he loves, the girl he has made so many memories with, in here and anywhere else in this stupid small town. 

From good memories to bad ones. 

From innocent ones like picking flowers for you at the age of 12 to buying you a bouquet of flowers for your 16th birthday. 

From comforting hugs at school to cuddling in your bed at nights. 

From first kisses on your bedroom floor to more passionate kisses in his car after every stop at the streetlight. 

From making love in your bed to fighting in your room with tears streaming down your face. 

He sees the box on the ground, the one that you took out of your closet, last night. You kept his things, just like he kept yours. 

Did you struggle to get rid of them like he did? 

Did you keep them in hopes that you would find your way back together someday?

His hands are starting to get clammy, his heart starts pounding again. He takes another look around your room before he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. 

The faint sound of the music coming from the radio tells him that you are in the kitchen. He makes his way downstairs, ignoring the shakiness in his legs or his hands. The smell of coffee lingers in the air. 

He presses his lips together as he takes a deep breath before he steps into the kitchen. 

You’re leaning against the counter, your chin is propped on your hand, a book lying in front of you, you haven’t noticed him yet and Steve takes that as a chance to look at you. 

Your hand is wrapped around a mug that Eddie must have given you, you told him that he loves Garfield. He laughed about it when you did. 

It’s only 8 am. He knows you’re not working today, yet you’re already so put together. Make up on your already beautiful skin, hair done in waves, you’re wearing an outfit you certainly didn’t wear yesterday. God, you look so beautiful that it hurts. 

His heart longs for you, his hands itch to touch you – something that he could’ve done. 

In a different world, he would pull you into his arms and shower you with kisses, he would hold you, not wanting to let you go. He would make breakfast for you and then you would spend the day together. 

But you’re in this world. 

In a world where he can’t kiss you or hold you or spend the day with you. 

“Hey..”

You raise your head and your glassy eyes meet his. 

Another wave of guilt rushes through him. You cried. You cried because of him again. 

“Hi,” you whisper as you close your book and straighten your back, you look him up and down. 

Steve hates how concerned you look, how worried you are over him. 

You take a step forward, giving him a small smile. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

He shrugs, trying to smile back at you. 

“I’ll make you a coffee, you should sit,” you nudge your head into the direction of the kitchen table. 

“Okay.”

He walks to the table and takes the seat that was once his. It’s been a long time since he sat here and watched you. 

You make the coffee first, pouring some into a Hawkins High mug. You add two sugars, still knowing how he likes his coffee. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” 

You place the mug in front of him, eying him with softness in your eyes, something that makes all of this even harder. 

He blinks, shrugging at your words. 

“Okay,” you sigh and pull back your hair, without thinking. “Bagels or Toast? I’ll make you some eggs if you want–”

Your voice becomes faint, like he’s under water, sinking further and further into the deep end. The marks on your neck are now visible to him, the hickeys that he left. Steve is not shocked or even surprised. He already knew when he came to you, last night. It was obvious, even through his drunken haze, he could see it in your eyes, the happiness that shined in them before you took in the sight of him. 

It still hurts. 

And it hurts even more to think about you with him, especially in that way. 

“Toast is just fine,” he mumbles. 

“Okay, Steve,” you whisper, this was always his go-to breakfast after a night out. Black coffee and toast. It’s plain but it’s the only thing he gets down. 

He keeps watching you. Eyes following your every moment. 

There is so much sadness inside of him but there is also more, there is acceptance. He knows why he came here last night. 

Bits and pieces start to return to him. He remembers what he confessed to you, how you held him, how you took care of him, how you comforted him. 

He truly never deserved you.

You place a plate in front of him, “you sure you want nothing else?” You point to the buttered toast. You added a few berries on the side. 

He gives you a smile, “you know I’ll probably get sick if I eat anything else,” he says, chuckling for the first time today. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “You always had a weak stomach.” 

“Only when I drink whiskey.” 

You nod, sitting down opposite of him. You take a sip of your coffee and lean back. You look down and reach for the magazine that your mom was reading earlier, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. 

Steve looks up at you and he just knows it’s the last time that he will have your coffee and your toast. 

It’s the last time he will get to sit here with you. 

So, for a moment, he pretends that everything is alright, that this is normal, that this is something you both do every day and for the rest of your lives, that he didn’t mess up, that everything is fine. 

He takes a few sips of the coffee and eats the toast, and when he’s done, he takes a deep breath and pushes the plate aside, not looking up from the coffee just yet. 

“I’m sorry.”

You close the magazine, sighing as you finally look up. 

“You said that already… many times, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything to that. He only looks up at you, his eyes scan your face, his lips twitch. 

“You look happy, dolly.”

What?

You shake your head a little, furrowing your brows as you stare at him in confusion. 

“You have color in your skin again, you no longer.. are skin and bones,” he says, quietly. Looking down as his eyes fill with guilt, knowing that you stopped eating because of how heartbroken you were. “Your hair is longer, your nails are painted black– a color I didn’t like you putting on because I was a fucking asshole..”

“Steve–”

He shakes his head at you, not wanting you to interrupt him. 

“You wear stuff you always told me you wanted to buy, you started wearing makeup, the heavy kind you once tried and loved but thought it was too much,” he says with a smile on his face, a knowing one. 

You see the way his eyes fall to your neck and your heart jumps when you realize what he is looking at. Surprisingly, there is no shock in his eyes, jealousy or even anger, just sadness. He knows everything and it’s not the marks on your skin he needed to look at. 

“You are living again.. and god, I want to hate him for it but.. how can I when he saved you from the pain I put you through?” 

Your eyes burn with tears. 

“I’m done standing in your way–”

“Steve,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Y-You’re not standing in the way.”

“Yes, I am.” His voice is thick with tears and by the way he is blinking, you can tell that he is trying not to cry. 

He looks down at the necklace you are wearing, the locket he had put around your neck, months ago. 

He knows that there is no picture of him inside and as much as it hurts, it’s okay. 

He didn’t come here to fight for you. He didn’t come here for a second chance or to get you back. He came here to let you go. So you could find happiness, the way you always deserved it. 

“And I don’t want to anymore. I want you to be happy.”

Your bottom lip starts trembling again. 

“And I know that you will be with him,” he says as he tears his away from the marks on your neck and he looks into your glassy eyes. “He would never do what I did. He would never put you through all of this.” 

You sniffle, looking into your best friend’s eyes. There is so much pain and sadness lingering in them and you hate it, you hate it so much. 

“I never let you go, dolly,” he finally admits with a heavy sigh. “Not at Tina’s Halloween party, not when I came to see you the next day, not after we went to Jimmy’s party together. I never let you go.” 

Your brows knit together, eyes that stare back at him with pain, fill with more tears. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing and you look into the brown eyes you always loved so much. 

You never let him go either, that’s why it hurts so much. 

Knowing that this is the last time crushes your heart in a new way. You know that this could not only be the end of the relationship you always held onto. This could be the end of everything. 

This was always your worst fear. Losing him. 

You have lost him before but you always knew that he would come back. 

And he always knew it too. 

But this, this is different. 

And this hurts even more than it did the first time. 

You still love him, there is no doubt about that. Steve can see it in your eyes, it’s in the way you look at him, it’s in the way your lips tremble and your hands shake as fear crosses your face. You’re scared to lose him. 

How could he ever think anything else? How could he ever doubt your love for him when it’s so clearly written on your face? Even now. 

Steve can’t help but wonder; would it have worked out between you if there wasn’t someone else? 

If Nancy never stepped into his life. 

If Eddie never stepped into your life. 

Would you have stayed together? 

Would you have broken up either way? 

Would you have found your way back together in the future? 

Would he have been able to make it up to you? 

Would you get your happy ending then?

“I dropped some heavy stuff on you last night,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing red when he remembers all the things he had said to you. 

“Oh, you mean marriage and kids?” You ask as a smile tugs on your lips when you see him blushing. 

He scratches the back of his neck, scrunching his face up, “yeah..”

You laugh a little, leaning your elbow on the table, you cup your cheek, “well, I never thought that far ahead when we were still together. I mean, I never knew what I wanted for my future but I knew that I wanted you in it,” you say, watching the way he nods at you. “And maybe a cat or a dog.” 

He chuckles. 

“Or maybe a few cats and a dog.” 

A fond smile reaches his face as he stares at you, shaking his head at the thought of all the pets you’d bring home while he’d– his smile begins to fade, it will never happen. 

“Well, I’m sure that Eddie will love that.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of a future with him. Yeah, Eddie will love that. 

“You’ll be happy with him. He will make you happy,” he says confidently because he knows that he will. “And if not, well, then I’ll take you back to that treehouse and I’ll marry you again.”

A laugh falls from your lips as a tear finally rolls down your cheek. 

“The treehouse we got married in when we were ten?” 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That one. You know I still got that paper ring,” he says with a serious face.

“I do too, I put it in a box,” you giggle. 

His eyes light up and he smiles at you, but he watches the tear roll down your cheek and then another. He stands up and he walks over to you, his heart skips a beat when you look up at him with your beautiful eyes. He cups your cheeks, wiping away the tears. 

“I don’t want you to cry over me anymore,” he whispers, holding your face for the last time. 

“Steve,” you whisper, shakily. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

You knew that this was coming. You knew that this had to happen. If he didn’t come to you last night, then you’d be the one coming to him to talk and put an end to this, once and for all. 

“I love you with all my heart and I ache for you, all the goddamn time but I don’t deserve you. You should have never forgiven me. You should have never treated me like a friend. You should have never given me the chance to be near you again… not after what I did.”

You grab his wrists, shaking your head at his words. Scared that he will leave you for good. Scared that he will leave your friendship behind and step out of your life forever. 

Steve hates to see the way your lips tremble, the way your eyes are nothing but tears, sadness and heartbreak, yet again. 

He can’t stand to see it any longer. 

“I let you go,” he whispers as he wipes your tears again. “Like you asked me to months ago.”

His heart is screaming at him not to, everything inside of him longs for him to stay, to fight for you, to drop to his knees and ask to try again. 

But this is the right thing to do. 

There is someone who can give you more than he can. 

Someone who didn’t hurt you. Someone who wouldn’t hurt you. Someone who would rather get hurt by you than do something to break your heart. 

“I choose you, sweetheart. This time, I choose you and your happiness.” 

A sad smile lingers on his face, he brushes your hair back and he looks down at the locket, one last time. 

He knows why you aren’t speaking, you’d break down if you would. 

He leans down, tilting your head up a little, he presses his lips against your forehead, kissing you one last time. 

His throat feels tight and his chest is hurting, he knows that he is on the verge of another breakdown, he is so very close to it. 

This is the hardest thing he will ever have to do. 

“Goodbye, Dolly.”

Your sniffles break his heart. You only hold his wrists tighter in response, holding onto them, your touch lingers on the wristband, one that he will never stop wearing. You let go after a few seconds. 

He feels your eyes on him, your big sad eyes. He can’t bear to take another look at you, knowing that he won’t be able to leave if he does, so he steps away from you, despite his heart telling him not to. 

He turns around and he walks away from you for the last time. He grabs his keys that you left on the counter, last night. 

With a heavy heart, he walks out of your house, biting back tears as he makes his way to his car. 

It’s over now. 

Something he held onto since he left you, is over. 

And now he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

He unlocks his car when the front door bursts open, startling him. He turns around with tears in his eyes that threaten to spill. Before he can even react, you suddenly crash into his arms, and wrap your arms around him, you hold onto him like you’re afraid that he might disappear if you let go. You hug him so tightly.

His eyes soften and his chest fills with warmth. 

He doesn’t hesitate to hug you back, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, he holds you tight and buries his face in your neck. 

No matter what happened in the past. No matter what he did to you. No matter how much pain you have gone through, you still don’t want to live in a world where he isn’t in your life. 

After all, he will always be the boy who picked flowers for you, who surprised you with your favorite snacks, who comforted you whenever your parents fought, who slept in your bed when you were afraid of storms, who taught you how to slow dance, who wrote you notes when he was younger, who promised you to be your prince when your first crush rejected you. 

You hold onto him, pressing your cheek against his chest. 

You stay like that for a moment, for a long moment – one that could never be long enough. 

He breathes you in and closes his eyes, ignoring the fluttering in his chest. 

He knows that this should make him feel better, to know that you love him enough to forgive him, to want him to stay but if anything, it makes him feel worse because he is still losing you.

He knows he has to walk away, for now. 

“I love you, Stevie.” 

He smiles sadly. 

He knows it’s not the same as it was. It’s not the I love you’s from all your notes. He knows it’s not the same love he feels for you, not anymore.

But the love you always had for him. The love you had since you were kids. 

And for him that’s more than he could ever ask for. 

“I love you too, Dolly.”

You sniffle, he can feel you shaking against him. You’re trying not to cry. 

“Please don’t become a stranger again, Steve.”

His breath hitches in his throat, he presses his lips together, willing the tears to stop from falling. 

“Me?” He asks, pulling back to look down at you. He musters up a smile. “I might need some time but I will latch onto you as soon as I get over my whiny ass.” He jokes, despite the pain in his heart. 

You roll your eyes but laugh at his words. 

You take a deep breath and sigh. 

This is it. 

This is what was supposed to happen. 

It hurts but you also feel relieved to finally put an end to something that kept holding you back for so long. 

You know you won’t truly lose him. 

He will always be your Steve. 

And you will always be his Dolly.

But it won’t ever be the same. 

You will be his friend and he will be yours and that’s all you’ll ever be. 

You won’t be sad forever and neither will he. 

He will find love after you. 

He will find it like you did. 

It’s what he deserves. 

It’s what you both deserve. 

“We kinda got friendship bracelets now,” he smiles through his tears, pointing to the wristband as he holds his hand up. You reach out to touch it, tracing the words. 

‘love you to the moon and to saturn’

“Well, I got one, you have a necklace.” 

You smile, placing your hand on the locket, “yeah.” 

You turn it around, looking at the half moon that he got customized just for you. 

You tear your eyes away from him and look around, furrowing your brows when you realize something. 

“You know what, we should stop doing this.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, tilting his head. 

“Saying goodbye in my driveway.” 

He chuckles, though it’s a sad one. 

“This is the last one,” he whispers. “Of this kind, at least. Our future goodbyes won’t be so…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah.” He takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

He takes a step forward, he leans down and kisses your cheek, not paying attention to the feeling in his heart or the way his lips tingle when they touch your skin for the last time. He gives your hand a squeeze before he pulls away again. 

“I’ll see you around.” 

He can tell that you’re trying not to cry,  that you are forcing a smile onto your face. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Steve.”

You can tell that he wants to say more. He looks at you. His eyes trace every inch of your face, like he’s trying to memorize you. And then, he nods to himself, blinking and giving you one last smile before he turns away from you. 

You watch him leave. 

For the last time, you watch him walk away from you. 

You stand there and wait until he is gone, until you no longer see his car in the distance. 

And just like that, he is gone, again. 

And your tears are falling again. 

-

A/N: I know that no one cares about my feelings cause I did this. But I want you to know that I freaking suffered writing this chapter. It felt heartbreaking and sad and wrong. I really wanted Steve to be the one. And my choice has nothing to do with the fact that I'm an Eddie girl, I love Steve, as well. (I know some of you don't believe this but I've loved him since 2016 so shut up, please and thanks). I didn't know how to make him come back from all what he did -- the emotional cheating, the pain he put her through, the heartbreak, the betrayal. It was too much and this ending genuinely has nothing to do with Eddie being in this story.

But also, please remember. This is not the ending of the story. So before you send any hate to me, remember that there will be another chapter and an epilogue. Anything can happen in an epilogue, just saying.

Also, I'll be working on a new Steve series. Strictly Steve x reader, I promise

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

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hi hello! Idk if your request is currently open or not, but I'd like to request a fic where the Reader is a member of the Smiling Critters, they're still alive due to Catnap's fondness of them. They're on his side but hate it, only doing it in exchange that Dogday wouldn't get hurt.

With Catnap's permission, they would visit Dogday and give him whatever food they could find ( let's say Catnap still has some fondness for Dogday inside of him ) but with limitations.

You can change the idea into how you prefer! Thank you in advance :D

Ps. Mind adding a scene where Dogday calls the Reader " Angel " and reminisces about Catnap's fondness for both of them? I hope it makes sense, I just melt seeing Dogday calling us Angel :'D

Here We Stay

Note || KSJSJSJD I loved writing this, everything makes sense :D My apologies I took so long to write this! Kinda short too but UUHHHHH-

WC || 1,176

Sypnosis || being a member of the Smiling Critters meant you would’ve died one way or another, but you didn’t. Now all you can do is hope for the best.

One of the worst possible things could be corporate greed, even just having good intentions yet the worst execution is a plausible answer. Just how could you be forced into this situation? Trying to make things worth Catnap’s while is harsh, the only reason you knew you were alive right now was merely because he was particularly fond of you and DogDay alike. He wasn’t the same after the fact the Prototype’s reign began, you weren’t aware of much yourself, so all of this was just plain scary to you.

All your friends just disappeared and died, some of which you didn’t know was happening. You only got all that information because of DogDay.

You hated the circumstance he was put in, it seemed so painful for one’s legs to be severed and just hung up there the way he is now.

Repeatedly however, DogDay has assured you he didn’t mind being like this so long as you were in good health. He couldn’t bear knowing he wouldn’t be able to do a single thing for one of the only friends he has left. So many of his friends were gone already, DogDay would elect to die for you if it meant you would live.

Truth be told, you had only exchanged the peace you had before so that DogDay would not get hurt anymore then he already has. Catnap had full will and the power to completely end your life otherwise, you just were scared. 

Sometimes when you could, you would take a look at the broken clock that had somehow still worked like normal–and think about what time it would be in the day–Is it nighttime? How about daytime. Oh how you wished you weren’t subject to things the way they are now, all because of the wretched rules of humans and even the abject rulings of the Prototype himself.

Why would Catnap even view that silly toy as a god anyway? Perhaps that was for him to know, and for you to find out. Once, your life isn’t in any danger any longer. Just maybe it will be possibly any hour now, one can only hope. 

Trying to scrounge the Factory for any possible food was getting harder and harder every hour, one could argue it may be the stupid little mice stealing those last precious crumbs away. You would argue it would be the little Wuggies, those small toys were objectively brisk–and limpid too (colors so closely related within the walls of the factory, you forget sometimes they are even there).

You try hard to not forget where you are, in order to get back to DogDay with food for him. That was the only reason you were even anywhere else and away from your sunny friend, you would still be close to him any chance you get on account of Catnap’s permission. 

You wished otherwise.

“Ugh!” Groaning, you step over the possible weak spots that would have you falling through the floor. “There has to be food around here somewhere..” You mention, notioning to the fact you had now stepped into an office. There would be bound to be food here!

With an ounce of hope, you began scrounging the office for any possible heaps of food that you find. Ruffling through any drawers and papers, this office seemed to be a mess. You paid no mind to the messes anyway, there are bound to be messes since the last ten years in Playtime Co. 

“Success! Haha!” You triumphantly hold a bundle of donuts in your hand, “Take that Hour of Joy!” 

Winding down from your self inflated permeated success, you began making your way back to DogDay. You’d have to speak to Catnap to get to him first unfortunately, you always hated this part. Nonetheless, it was necessary.

You picked up the phone, already dialing Catnap to inform him of current conditions. You carefully had curated your words, you always did this when you spoke to him which ever way.

His deep voice rumbled soundly in your ears, “Food, for him?” 

“Yes.” You silently groan, kicking a benign rock stubble as you stand around while awaiting his confirmation. Why the hell was he so scary to you? Though, Catnap’s voice was oddly reassuring when he spoke without malcontent. For a moment, there was a long pause. 

You swore you could hear someone screaming and pleading to the giant purple cat; you felt bad for the unlucky victim that had crossed paths with Catnap.

“...” Then the phone hung up, you sighed a breath of relief that you could visit DogDay. Many things you would do for him just aside visiting, was having to loop in Catnap on whatever the contents of the material you would bring in hand with you. You knew the cat well enough his pause of silence meant yes. 

Well, you can go now at least. You don’t even want to recount the last time you had brought something to DogDay without telling Catnap. 

You stepped over the rubble that had led up to the heretic altar, you recognize he is one of the many dubbed a heretic, you truly wished he wasn’t in so much pain this way. Though immediately another thought crossed your mind.

This hallway needed some serious cleaning up to do.

A strained voice pulled you from your thoughts, “You didn’t have to bring anything my friend.” DogDay was being positive about you as per usual, you sighed as you stepped up to him then sat down as your legs were weary and tired. 

“DogDay we are friends, I’d do anything for you.” You motion, taking out a donut so you could feed it to him. Though in a rare few circumstances you were allowed to free DogDay’s hands so he could eat himself. Unfortunately it was not one of those circumstances. He took a willing bite, chewing it up as he savored it. 

For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to articulate anything, “Do you, remember how he was before… Angel?” DogDay was still mournfully thinking about Catnap’s old self, which he had every right to do. Knowing someone for as long as you would, then that someone changing so drastically–especially not in a good way–can be startling. 

You fed him another bite of the donut you held in your hand, “How could I forget? He was quite silent, sure enough. But he was always considering each and every one of us.” You nod with a tilted head. Oh, if you had the chance to turn back the clock and change things, you would’ve done it all in a heartbeat. 

Sincerely, you were scared. Scared for Catnap, scared for DogDay. All your possibly living friends you know are still alive. 

You grin slightly, wanting to alleviate the conversation and change the subject, “You might need a cleaning.” DogDay couldn’t help but bark–reminiscent of laughter–at your words. He shifted himself noticeably, most likely to bear the weight from one end to another. And remove the discomfort for a little bit before it would dare come back. 

“You may be right, my angel.”

"One can only hope."

[mirohlayo]

F1 DRIVERS TAKING CARE OF YOU

ON YOUR PERIODS

including mclaren, ferrari, mercedes + verstappen, ricciardo & gasly

・WARNING : mention of period/cramp, fluff

・NOTE : i didn't wrote it in fem reader so this is for anyone who is menstruating

!! english is not my first language !!

ᦈ OSCAR PIASTRI 81

he would be the most caring and understanding boyfriend. he knows how painful your period cramps are and he hates seeing you suffer like this. so he does his best to help you, either by buying you your favorite snacks or putting a hot water bottle on your stomach. hums in your ear sweet words like "everything is okay" to boost up your mood. lots of kisses on your forehead to keep your energy. also he'll plan in advance your others periods to make sure he'll be ready to take care of you when they'll come back.

ᦈ LANDO NORRIS 4

poor boy would be completely lost at first. he doesn't really know what to do, he starts panicking because he doesn't know how to ease your pain. so he would call his sisters to get help and advices. he'll do everything they told him to do : buying you extra snacks, making hot tea and any warm drinks, start a stock of painkillers. he joins you in bed, tucking you close to his body and cuddle you with tons of kisses here and there. he would also gently massages your tummy because he thinks it ease the pain. literally became the sweetest boyfriend.

ᦈ CHARLES LECLERC 16

he doesn't think twice before running over the store to buy you your survival kit. i know for sure he would blush really hard when the cashier scans the pads right in front of him. but then run back again to your apartment to check on you. he won't leave your side, he's stuck with you until your periods end. he'll always ask you if you're fine, if you need anything, if you want something. when your only answer was "you" he'll get so shy but happily cuddles you, pressing some kisses on your poor tummy. he just hopes pain would disappear because he doesn't want to see you suffer.

ᦈ CARLOS SAINZ 55

like when you're sick, he knows how to deal with your periods. princess treatment on top. he would cook your favorite food and put your favorite movie on the tv. he keeps an eye on you from the kitchen and if he hears you growl from pain he's already next to you in a second. also prepares you a hot bath to relax your stomach from cramps. he'll put all his being and all his efforts to make sure your periods are a little less painful. he won't rest for a whole week, and of course he doesn't forget to fill you with so much love, like with soft kisses on your cheeks.

ᦈ LEWIS HAMILTON 44

literally the softest boy ever. he hates when you're on your periods because it looks like you're going to die. he perfectly knows what to give you. all you need to do is to rest on the bed and the rest he takes care of. he's just so caring, so sweet and gentle with you. he would constantly rub your stomach, sometimes pressing a hot water bottle on it. he'll also play with your hair, just do anything to distract you from the pain. he makes sure your full attention is on him and not on your cramps. and if so, he'll curse the cramps because they make his poor baby suffer.

ᦈ GEORGE RUSSEL 63

he would 50% knows how to handle it and 50% messes up. like of course he's aware of your cramps and how much it is painful. but he's thinking about one million ways to help you to go through it that he ends up getting headaches. he would do literally anything he thinks is good for you. some things work and some just worsen the pain. and he'll panic about it, stress fills his body. but you reassure him, and after you told him what he needed to do, everything was finally okay. he becomes so much caring, and he's so gentle with his touches. he'll learn about it and you can count on him to make you feel better, thanks to his cuddles.

ᦈ MAX VERSTAPPEN 33

periods ? he always forget them, but don't worry he's always ready to help you and to take care of you. he gives you extra comfort and extra treats. tea, snacks, hot things to soothe the pain. if you crave something he'll literally search it everywhere for you. his lover needs the best treatment during periods. but i feel like he would be curious about it, and while you're laying on the bed he'll ask you about periods and how painful it is. just to understand better in order to be the perfect caring boyfriend for your next periods.

ᦈ DANIEL RICCIARDO 3

what is even periods ? first time you told him you were on your periods he didn't get it. but then he saw your painful face and he knew something was wrong. when it's your first day he always stresses, he doesn't know how to act anymore. like completely lost. but he quickly put himself together and manage to take care of you. he's for sure joking about it sometimes, like teasing you gently just to put a smile on your face. but he knows how painful it is and so he always ends up in your arms, his head on your tummy as he sleeps and strokes your waist. he hopes this ease your cramps.

ᦈ PIERRE GASLY 10

he transforms into a strict boyfriend. because he wants you to rest for your whole periods time. he asks you every minutes if you're good and if you need anything. you just keep saying that you're all okay but still he's not completely relaxed. if you sigh softly he's already overthinking about it, thinking something is wrong. so to calm him, he would pull you into his arms, your head on his chest. kisses the top of your head and rubbing your stomach with one hand. he'll end up sleeping with you too, and dream about how long your periods will be, because he can't hold seeing you suffer from it.

[lebrookestore]

backburner | n.jm (teaser)

Pairing: Na Jaemin x reader

Themes: college! au, exes! au, the situationship vibes are STRONG, angst, fluff, exes to ???, reader is a serial overthinker.

Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, jaemin is lowkey an asshole, more to be added for the full fic.

Word count for teaser: 580 | Estimated word count: 12-15k

Summary: After three months of ignoring your presence entirely, Na Jaemin saunters right back into your life without so much as single warning, leaving you to once again pick up the pieces of your burning heart.

Notes from brooke: a late christmas present from me<3 i'm back to writing my college aus so i hope all of you will enjoy my pain (literally).

[send an ask to be added to the taglist!]

It was one in the morning when your phone rang.

A sigh left your chapped lips as you glanced down from the screen of your laptop to the device sitting by its side, your eyes burning at the too bright light emitting from your phone. The rest of your dorm was dark, having switched the lights off earlier at the request of your roommate, who had an early class the next day. 

Unfortunately for you, you had an assignment due the next day that you had, as usual, left for the last minute. Music played through your headphones as you tried to construct what you deemed a coherent enough essay to submit. 

Scrambling so you wouldn’t wake your roommate up, you pushed your headphones off and swiped the call icon across the screen of your phone, accepting it a second before you registered who the caller was. The contact glared at you as if it was mocking you for your carelessness and hastiness, causing you to bite down hard on the inside of your cheek.

Well. It was too late now.

Swallowing hard, you held your phone up to your ear and whispered. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

A breath you didn’t know you had been holding in escaped from your lips, having you shut your eyes and process his voice. It was funny, how just one inconsequential word from a single person could change your entire disposition.

“Jaemin? Are you okay?”

He hummed in response. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I might be a little tipsy though.”

You could just imagine him right then, a glass being gripped loosely by his fingers, leaning against some wall as he spoke to you over the phone. The image was enough that you slipped out of your bed and pacing about your room as quietly as you could, restless.

“Oh. Um, don’t drink too much.”

He chuckled, a sound so familiar yet so distant to you. “I won’t, don’t worry.” 

Jaemin liked alcohol, you knew this much. He liked the way it would slowly hit his head and render him more easy going than he already was, causing that pretty smile of his to show more liberally. You were well versed with everything about him, from his walk to the way his eyes would express everything he was thinking, the slightly changes making themselves completely obvious for you,

The two of you had been so in tune with each other. Sometimes, you forgot how easy that made it for it all to fall apart.

“Okay.” You weren’t really sure where you were supposed to go with this conversation anymore. “Do you need something?”

“Not really.”

“Then….then why did you call me?” Bewilderment crept into your voice as clear as day. If you were in front of him right then, perhaps he would have teased you, tucking your hair behind your ear and muttering something about how cute you were. 

He stayed silent for a moment. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You stopped your pacing, coming to a standstill as his words settled over you. In the silence of the night, you were almost too aware of the way your heart rate increased ever so slightly.

Yunjin was right. There was hardly ever a time where your best friend’s advice wasn’t spot on, but this time you found yourself wishing you had complied and actually blocked him like she had suggested you do. Maybe then you wouldn’t have found yourself in such a position. 

coming soon. | lebrookestore 2024

[spdrvyn]

full stomachs, fuller hearts — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: miguel has gotten used to eating dinner by himself so you decide to change his nightly routine.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: literally nothing but pure unaldulterated fluff. gender neutral terms mostly but querido is used once.

NOTES: OKAY so this was actually a request for someone but i was a dumbass and accidentally POSTED the draft when i meant to save it for later, i panicked and deleted the post so now i lost the request from my inbox forever 💔 whoever that dude was i hope you find this and i hope you enjoy

Lonely dinners were always a common occurence for Miguel.

That was just how things are. After a long and drawn out day of protecting the multiverse, protecting the city, protecting everything that he's built up and coming home to a desolate penthouse.

It was the norm for him, he had grown accustomed to it. Being isolated in general wasn't a foreign concept to him, but you brought more change to his life that he thought he would hate.

He loves you a lot. You two had been in a committed relationship for a few months now but haven't moved in yet. The every few hours during a day that you would get to visit him or perhaps he could swing by to your apartment were the only times he felt some sense of warmth in his cold, silent life.

It's not like he didn't want to ask you to move in, he does. Oh, so badly. It's just that the constant fear that he's going too fast or getting too excited over this newfound love. He doesn't want to scare you away.

There was also just a small part of him that was getting too used to being around you. It's gone to the fact that whenever he ate dinner, he'd always imagine you on the other side of that table, laughing and sharing stories about how you're day went.

When he snapped out of it, the sight of the empty chair across him brought his spirits down even more.

You were aware of this too.

Which was why you were up at the wee hours of the night, trying to watch an online video recipe for making empanadas. You knew how to cook enough meals to get by but you wanted to try something different for Miguel.

The bar was set a little bit higher this time. You've been over at Miguel's place before and he has cooked for you and every single time you've tried his dishes they were utterly delectable.

You didn't only want to make all of this food for him just because he's constantly eating alone but because he's really expanded your tastebuds ever since you two developed a much more intimate relationship. You could at least owe him one homecooked dinner.

Reminders to yourself, thank Lyla for letting you in and don't blow up Miguel's penthouse.

As you followed the tutorial step-by-step, you couldn't help but let your mind wander a little further. You wondered how Miguel was doing right now.

Yes, he's strong and agile in an almost inhuman way but at the same time you still worried for him. If only he could be here right now, you'd love to have the opportunity to cook with him.

He was grateful that you weren't in the present moment with him right now, his stomach growl in anticipation for it's next meal as he was running and swinging from rooftop to rooftop to get back to his penthouse.

There were many obstacles that he encountered on the way back. The classic old lady getting her purse snatched which gave him severe déjà vu, a bank robbery, and a cat stuck in a tree.

He grew progressively exhausted with each stop, not forgetting that he had his actual duties at the headquarters that he just left from. Sore muscles and a throbbing head, a painful combo for Miguel.

Maybe he should just skip dinner altogether and opt to immediately pass out on his bed, showering in the morning and having a very heavy breakfast. Yeah, that would work...

He glares into the window of his penthouse, not because he was hesitant to make the jump but because the lights were open. He was sure that he left all of his rooms in complete darkness before leaving.

With one final jump, his claws dig into the edge of his window as he pulls himself up. His eyes narrow, in attempts of getting a good peek of what exactly was going on.

An intruder, a home invasion, Lyla having a party without telling him were all of his possible theories.

What he didn't expect was to see you setting up his plate on his kitchen island, plates of delicious smelling food prepared as well.

There was an intrusion, that's for sure. The intrusion of blush on his cheeks, which he quickly had to shake as he took his mask off.

However, as quickly as it disappeared, it came back once he saw the look on your face the moment you noticed his presence.

Pure glee and warmth is how he'd describe it. It's also how he'd describe the embrace that you immediately pull him into, throwing the silverware that you were readying.

It's not like he hesitated to touch you either, he wrapped his arms around you. So glad that he gets to bask in your existence again, bask in you.

"What's all this, querido?"

You separate from Miguel for a brief moment before walking over to the kitchen counter, proudly showing off your creations. "Empanadas and menudo!"

It was like stars clouded Miguel's vision as it all goes through his mind. You came to his house, fixed up a whole meal for him, and for what? He doesn't remember getting you any gifts recently.

So why?

"Are you just going to stare or are you going to try one?" chuckled you, at least it got Miguel to snap out of his daze. His hands reaches out to one of the empanadas and he takes a bite.

Okay, if he was being honest, he's tasted much better before.

But you put so much thought, so much time, and so much care into making this for him. All of those qualities overshadowed the taste and dryness of it, filling his stomach with something else entirely.

This was probably one of the best empanadas he's ever tasted.

"It's really good." He says, swallowing the last of his food, "Best that one I've ever tasted, mi cielo." Then leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead, warm hand cupping your cheek.

"You're just saying that, Miguel. I tasted them before you got here and they're really dry."

"Still the best I've ever tasted."

He continues to plant kisses on you, trailing from your forehead to the bridge of your nose to your cheek then boarding at your lips, you giggle into the kiss but before it progresses any further, he stops and pulls away.

"Do you want to move in with me?"

request rules here, masterlist here

[minhosbitterriver]

hi green, how are you doing ?? i hope everything’s alright<33

i hope you dont mind but i wanted to request something again >< i was wondering if you could write a smut with chan, but focus more on the aftercare ??

lets say he had a stressful week and during sex he decided to reselase his anger and stress on the reader, but they had a hard week themselves and just couldnt take it, so they decided to use their safeword and channie would be all like oh ?? and maybe the reader would even cry a little and be apologetic, because “i’m so sorry, i know you had a hard time, i just can’t do it today” saying that while clinging to him and seeking comfort >:((

and then chan would focus on making them feel safe, he would clean the up and reassure them that if completely fine and he's proud of them and just the whole aftercare part ><

if its too much then its completely fine !! please dont feel pressured to write it if its not your cup of tea<33

anyway, please take care !!😽

use of the safe word.

other works by green.

pairing: chan x female reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, rough and overwhelming sex, crying, bloody lip, aftercare, not proofread

rating: 18+

summary: chan had always been the sweetest human ever, but after you’d both had a rough week, you both find out that you had different ways of decompressing.

His fingers found their way to your throat while he groaned in your ear, squeezing in a way you usually adored as Chan thrusted in and out of you at a brutal pace. He was completely lost in his own world, moaning about how tight you felt around him and how he’d been thinking about having you like this all day after the stress he’s had to deal with over the course of several days. It was difficult to breathe for you, though, all of your senses seemingly going haywire as you attempted to ground yourself by gripping the sheets below you and trying to focus on his babbles of pleasure. However, instead of enjoying this moment with your lover like you normally would, your mind was a storm of frustration and stress that only increased with Chan’s speed.

It was too much for you — everything about this was overwhelming, including the guilt that followed your distressed thoughts. Chan had arrived home and immediately pulled you in for a rough kiss, and you had followed along because you were well aware of how rough it’s been for him recently and you figured you’d let him release it all on you before talking. Although nothing could’ve prepared you for the complete disconnect that plagued you — you didn’t feel seen or loved, he barely managed to remember some of the things he knew you liked while he chased his own orgasm. It wasn’t to say that he was doing it purposely, you knew that Chan loved you to insanity because this was strange for him.

Unwanted tears rolled down your cheeks, and you bit your lip harshly so as to not let him know of your state since his face was buried into the nape of your neck. His breath felt hot on your skin, and sharp pangs of pain shot up your body with each time Chan bottomed out. Your eyes were squeezed shut so as to prevent any more tears from spilling, and a whimper escaped your lips as your teeth broke skin.

Too much. Too much. I don’t like this!

Chan’s movements became slightly more erratic, which signifies that he was close to achieving his orgasm. But the room was spinning and you didn’t think you could take this roughness any longer.

“Channie, stop, stop, red light!”

All movements halted, dizzying you slightly. Chan pulled back immediately as his grip on your throat loosened and his eyes scanned your face with concern. The sobs were pushing their way out of you and the tears rolled down your cheeks freely and stained the pillow below your head. “I’m so sorry, Channie!”

“Oh— Wait, no, no don’t apologize,” Chan quickly responded, slowly pulling out of you so as to not overwhelm you further. His brows were furrowed, catching sight of your bloody bottom lip and your anguished expression. “What happened baby? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry, your entire body shaking violently as you reached for your boyfriend. “I know you’ve been having a hard time, I just can’t take it today.”

He wrapped his muscled arms around your trembling body, kissing the top of your head as the beat of his heart seemed to ground you despite how erratic it was, bringing you back to reality. It was clear that he was still confused, and you were grateful that he wasn’t pushing for an explanation right away. Instead he shifted slightly so that he could place his calloused hand on your chest, applying a bit of pressure while inhaling and exhaling deeply. You followed his breathing pattern, slowly noticing that he’d pulled you into his lap at some point, cradling your body as though it was made of porcelain.

When your cries had slowed to a near stop, he moved his gaze onto your face — guilty eyes searching for any remaining distress. His thumb caressed your cheeks, drying your tears in the process as he attempted a soft smile.

“Baby?”

A shaky breath made its way past your lips, eyes glued to the crumpled sheets while you twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“No, angel, don’t apologize.” Chan spoke softly, yet his tone was stern. “Please don’t apologize, I’m proud of you for stopping me, okay?”

You could only nod meekly.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nothing was said, but the shame arose in the form of choked sobs and Chan pulled you back onto his chest while rocking from side to side. His fingers carded through your hair gently as he hummed a nearly inaudible tune to calm you. This time, you were able to pull yourself quicker.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before he was lifting you up slightly and laying you on his side of your shared bed. The sound of his speedy footsteps that made their way to the kitchen were the only thing heard aside from your own ragged breathing.

You sat up when he returned with a cold glass of water in one hand and what looked like a warm, wet towel in the other. He handed you the water first, watching you intently as you hissed a bit as soon as your cut lip made contact with the coldness of your drink. You downed your drink in one go, your throat screeching in relief from how dry it had been until a moment ago.

“I’m going to clean you up a little bit, and then you should pee.”

His rough hands touched your shoulder lightly, nudging you so that you would lay back and spread your lips. The jolt that occurred as soon as you felt the warmth of the towel touch your core had your ears turning red in shame, you knew he wouldn’t purposely hurt you so there was no reason to act like this. You didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across his face.

As you peed, Chan was quietly filling up the bathtub and adding a lavender scented bath bomb to soothe your anxiety. You watched him work from the toilet in silence, lips set into a deep frown.

“It’s done baby,” Chan announced, turning to face you with a benign smile. “We should take care of your lip first though.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “I haven’t done anything but add to your stress, and it shouldn’t have been like this. I could’ve lasted until you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Y/N.” Chan sounded so grave you couldn’t help but inhale sharply, eyes widening slightly. “Please don’t ever do that, we have a safe word for a reason. Always, always use it whenever you’re not having a good time. There’s really no hard feelings for me, what’s important for me is that you’re okay and that I don’t end up hurting you.”

You sniffed, bracing yourself as he neared you with a small cloth that had been dipped in antiseptics that made you hiss at the burn as soon as he dabbed it to your wound. He gently blew on your lip as an effort to lessen the pain.

“You’re so sweet to me.”

Chan pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering for a moment as if to make you feel his love through the simple action – and you did. A small smile made its way onto your face at last as his hands guided you to the bathtub, helping you get in before he knelt beside you.

The warmth of the deliciously scented water instantly relaxed your sore muscles, you sighed in relief. The light swishing sound of the water following your movements seemed to add to your newfound serenity, your eyes falling closed for only a second before the sense of something being missing began gnawing at your mind. You turned to find Chan sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes sparkling as he watched you while resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub. The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sight, heart soaring.

“Join me.”

He shook his head, returning your smile.

“Channie,” you pouted. “You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened, I promised.”

He shook his head again, his smile remaining as he blinked rapidly as if to keep unshed tears at bay.

“Baby, please don’t feel guilty…you didn’t know.”

“No,” his voice cracked a bit. “I should’ve known, you bit your lip so hard you started bleeding. You were crying, you weren’t even able to tell me what happened. I should’ve noticed.”

Your hand touched the side of his face, droplets of water rolling down his smooth skin. “I should have told you I wasn’t okay as soon as I realized, baby. But we can still relax together, please, join me.”

Chan seemed hesitant for a few beats before sighing. He was already naked, so all he needed to do was take his place behind you. It was a tight fit, but you liked this kind of closeness as his arms wrapped themselves tightly around your torso and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you speak for a bit, basking in the tranquility of it all.

“I’m sorry.”

Not a word needed to be said, so you lifted his hand and kissed it once, twice, three times until he chuckled lightly. He pressed his own lips on your shoulder, and you felt a few tears grace the skin near his lips, so you reached up to his hair and scratched his head as a form of comfort.

“I knew that you were frustrated, stressed and all of that when you brought me to our room and I really thought I would be fine,” you finally explained, Chan had yet to remove his lips from you as he listened. “But I guess I didn’t take into consideration the shitty week I’ve been having too and it was just– a lot of it was just the new boss that arrived last Monday micromanaging every single breath I took, my workload was humongous compared to what I used to have before. He was so condescending, too, just doubting everything I said and asking my male coworkers to double check all the information I provided. I didn’t have a good time. And then we were having sex, and we barely exchanged a few words to each other before that, and it was just very overwhelming. I should’ve said something, so part of it was on me. I will make sure to be better next time, be more vocal about my needs and such.”

Chan lifted his head from your shoulder, cupping his hands to spill some of it onto your hair, massaging your scalp. “I’m sorry your new boss has been such an uptight dick all week…and I’m sorry I was so rough with you– especially without at least talking with you for a bit before, I’ll be sure to check in on you more often when we make love, especially if negative emotions are affecting either of us.”

“I really appreciate you, Channie.” You take his hands in yours, massaging them lightly and playing with his pretty fingers absentmindedly. “What about you, baby, what had you so worked up when you got here?”

Chan’s voice was soothing as he talked, the vibrations of his voice could be felt on his chest and it served as some kind of comforting sensation as you pressed yourself even more to him and closed your eyes.

word count: 1.9k 🛁 posted: 12 • 17 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request, Merin. This was such an unexpectedly healing experience for me, and I thank you for it. You’ve only made two requests, but I can tell you that I’ve grown to love when you do since you always ask for such touching topics that aren’t mentioned or discussed enough. So please, request however many times as you’d like!

I hope you’re doing well, and I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @grandpafelixx , @agi-ppangx