#i’m too emotional to speak right now t-t

[gojoest]

the battle is over — he’s back home. he’s fine

by @/_lemissem on ig | do not save / use !

[puckinghischier]

Locksmith - Nico Hischier

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader has been friends with the hughes brothers for years, and when she finally arrives in Jersey to move in with her best friends, she finds herself locked out and stuck in the hallway, with only the neighbor to save her

notes: this is my first time ever writing ANYTHING, so this could be terrible. BUT it’s really only a peek at where i want the story to go so possible series if anyone actually wants to read it??? 🫣

part 2, part 3, part 4

[2.4k]

~

You know, three suitcases didn’t seem like enough when you were packing, but trying to roll three suitcases down the long, carpeted hallway is proving to be one of the most difficult tasks you’ve ever had to do in your life.

Seriously, the building didn’t look this long from the outside.

After a trek that felt like miles, you reach the door you’ve been scanning for, only to find it locked tight. “I swear to god I’m literally going to kill them,” you said to yourself, out loud. “They tell the doorman to let me in, have me bring all this luggage up by myself, only to leave the fucking door locked. Why did I expect anything less?”

Grabbing your phone, you dial Jack’s number, silently begging him to pick up. You know he’s at a charity thing with Luke, but surely he’s allowed to answer his phone, right? Wrong. His phone goes straight to voicemail, twice. Classic Jack. You know there’s not any point to calling Luke, he always leaves his phone during charity events in order to connect with the kids better. Usually you find that endearing and admirable, but right now you wish that he was maybe just a bit more selfish.

“Well, I guess I live in the hallway now. Hope the carpet is plush enough to sleep on.” You’ve always had a habit of talking out loud to yourself when you’re nervous or, in this case, annoyed. It helps you work through your thoughts and not dwell on anything for too long. Purges your emotions a bit.

“Trust me, it’s not. Speaking from experience here, you’d be much better off sleeping on the couches in the lobby” a voice startles you.

“Oh my god,” you jumped. You turned around to see the door to the apartment behind you wide open, a dark haired man leaning against the doorway, smile on his face.

“I- how long have you been standing there?” you asked, hand on your chest trying to calm your racing heart.

“Long enough to know you’re thinking about sleeping on the carpet, not long enough to know why,” he states, humor lacing his tone.

“Well, if you must know, my roommates left the door locked, no spare key, and won’t answer their phones. So, until they get home, the hallway is my new bedroom,” you surveyed the stranger.

He was tall, much taller than you were. He wore a simple white t-shirt, black sweatpants, and a backwards hat on his head, hiding what looked like hair that was in need of a trim based on how much it was spilling out the sides of the hat. But what made you stop in your tracks were his eyes. You don’t think you had ever truly understood the phrase ‘warm eyes’ until now. They were the most spectacular shade of brown you had ever seen in your life. And they were filled with amusement. Amusement directed towards you, since he had just heard you talking to yourself like a madwoman.

“Ahh, you must be Y/N! I thought Jack said you weren’t coming until tomorrow?” He asked, understanding washing over his face.

“I caught an earlier flight and was going to surprise them. However, Jack texted me earlier this morning and told me he and Luke had to go to a charity skate, so I had to tell them I was coming early. He told me he’d leave the door unlocked so I could go ahead and settle in, but, as you can see, they did not,” you explained, only slightly shocked Jack told his neighbor about you. That boy sure liked to talk, yapping anyone’s ear off who would listen.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a spare key you can use,” the stranger tells you, walking out of your view for a brief moment.

“Should I be concerned that the neighbor has a spare key? Does he just go around handing out spares left and right?” you ask, starting to feel a bit awkward standing among all of your luggage.

“No, not exactly,” the man laughs. “He gave me a spare after one too many nights of me hauling him home from the bar only to realize he didn’t have his key with him.”

He walks out of his apartment, a small golden key in hand. The stranger, whose name you forgot to ask, unlocks the door and stands back with a warm smile on his face.

“There, you just got upgraded to a real bedroom,” he recalls, standing in the now open doorway.

“I would say thank you, but I’m still a little concerned that a strange man just had to let me into my own apartment,” you (semi) joke, attempting to gather your suitcases.

“I’m Nico,” he explains, taking the suitcase you were struggling to heave into the apartment.

“Oh, you’re the captain!” you exclaim, recalling all the times Jack and Luke had talked about their beloved leader to you. “Jack never mentioned you lived next door!”

“That’s me. I only just moved in about a week ago. Was looking for a place closer to the rink and Jack told me about his previous neighbors moving out, so I decided to move in. Nice having them just across the hall. They’re like the little brothers I never had,” Nico pronounces brothers like ‘brudders’. You nearly forgot Jack had mentioned he was from Switzerland, too distracted to have picked up on his accent before now.

“Yeah, they seem to have that effect on people, huh?” you understood the sentiment behind Nico’s words all too well.

You’ve known Jack, Luke, and Quinn since you were all kids. Your family owned the lake house next to theirs when you were growing up. You spent every summer with them up until Quinn got drafted to the Canucks a few years back. Then Jack to the Devils, then Luke following Jack. Your families grew incredibly close to one another over the years, though. Trips to visit the other outside of the summer months became a regular occurrence. Trips to watch their hockey games, traveling to watch Luke play college hockey, and attending their drafts. These three were the brothers you never had but always wanted. They treated you like their own sister from the very start.

“They especially have the annoying aspect of younger brothers perfected,” Nico replied, both of you fully inside your new apartment now.

“God, don’t I know it,” you laughed.

Looking up, you finally took in your new home. Geez, this place is nice. It shouldn’t surprise you, really, with how much Jack and Luke both make, but the apartment is like, really nice. Definitely out of your price range, by likely a couple thousand dollars. You suddenly feel bad that Jack refused to let you pay any share of the rent. You had fought him on it, several times. He insisted that they had the spare bedroom anyways, and they had no trouble making rent as is. You demanded that you contribute in some way, so you were now tasked with grocery shopping and cooking for two professional hockey players. Honestly, after seeing the meal plans the team nutritionist gave them, it might be a fair trade.

It's only as you look over towards the kitchen at the thought of having to go grocery shopping soon, you realize Nico is still there. He’s just standing there, watching you take in your surroundings, lost in your own thoughts.

“Well, thanks for not letting me waste away in the hallway. And helping me with my luggage. I think someone from TSA filled my suitcases with rocks or something. I swear it didn’t seem like I had that much stuff when I left home,” you explain, not knowing what else to say to the stranger.

“No problem, seriously. I feel like I’m over here more than I’m at my own apartment, anyways. Jack is always calling me to come over or insisting that we have to watch game film together after practice. It’s a little concerning how obsessed he is with hockey. I mean, I’m the captain of the team and I feel like I spend less time thinking about work than he does,” Nico chuckles, not seeming to want to end the conversation just yet.

“God, don’t even get me started. I’ve had to listen to him ramble on and on about hockey for years. I’m just glad someone else finally understands my pain.”

“You know, the only other subject he seems to talk about as much as hockey is you. And his family, but according to him the two are one in the same. Every time I’ve seen him this week, which is nearly every day, he’s updated me on the countdown to when you were set to arrive. He’s seriously excited to have you here. They both are. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” Nico reveals.

You and Jack had always been the closest out of the three brothers. With your age falling directly in-between Quinn and Jack, you and Jack had the most common interests as a kid. Quinn was always trying to be the grown one, not concerning himself with whatever you and Jack were interested in while growing up. As teens, Quinn was always training or going off by himself to do who knows what. Luke was still slightly too young to go off with you and Jack alone, so it was usually just the two of you embarking on your own little adventures on those summer days. Once Jack got his boating license neither of your parents would let Luke go out on the water without them. So, more often than not, you and Jack would take the boat to God knows where in the middle of the lake and spend the whole day there, not returning until after dark. Those days were your favorite to think back on. The conversations between you and Jack never ceased to flow. From hockey, to your boy troubles back home, to whatever girl Jack wanted to impress that summer, to what your lives would look like one day, to always vowing to be in each other’s lives, even if he became a big shot hockey player that lived on the other side of the world.

“Yeah, well, he always has been the sentimental type, no matter how hard he tries to deny it,” you chuckle, a fond smile finding its way onto your face.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, Y/N. If you ever find yourself faced with sleeping in the hallway again, you know where to find me,” Nico drops his eye into a wink, walking over to the door and opening it once again.

“Thank goodness someone around here understands the severity of the situation at hand. Me and my back thank you,” you wave your arms around for dramatic effect, walking to take hold of the open door as he steps into the hallway and back into his own doorway.

“Welcome to Jersey. We’re glad to have you here,” Nico turns to face you after he’s back in his own apartment, a genuine smile settled on his face.

“Thanks, Nico. It’s good to be here,” you respond, matching his smile, thinking of how well it suits him.

———————————————————————————

“Y/n!!!! Where are you!?” you hear, currently elbow deep in suitcase number two, trying your hardest to unpack everything. You really don’t know how you managed to fit so much clothing in three suitcases. Or how you ended up with so many clothes to begin with. You stand up and start making your way to the door of your bedroom, hand on the doorknob as it flies open, revealing a very excited looking Jack and Luke. You suddenly feel your body flying forward, face hitting a clothed shoulder.

“Ow! Jack, that was my nose!” you tried to say, but everything was muffled because of how tight your body was being held in place. Seriously, he acts like he hadn’t seen you in years. You were literally here a few months ago to visit and arrange plans to move in. Leave it to Jack to always bring the dramatics.

“Just a few more seconds, I missed you,” he mumbles, squeezing even tighter, if that was even possible.

“Jack, no fair! Quit hogging her, I missed her too!”

“Luke, please save me. I might suffocate soon if he doesn’t let go,” you beg the younger brother.

“Oh my god, will you two quit being dramatic? Can’t a man be excited his best friend is finally moving in after months of waiting?” Jack whines as he releases his hold on you.

“No one said you couldn’t be excited, Rowdy, but suffocating me two minutes into living together might not be the best way to show your excitement,” you say, smoothing out your sweatshirt and making your way towards the open arms of the younger, yet much larger, brother.

“Oh Moose, how have you been? Have you been getting enough sleep?” You question, always worried about his wellbeing, especially these past few weeks.

“Yeah, m’alright. A little tired, but we have some home games lined up soon. I’ll catch up on sleep then,” he responds, squeezing you a little tighter at the end of his sentence.

Luke’s rookie year has been a rollercoaster not only for him, but for you as well. You worry about the youngest Hughes, having such a soft spot for the boy. You know he’s talented, and you know he’ll do well, but you can see the exhaustion on his face and in his actions. You know he carries the weight of the foul comments he receives about his gameplay, and you try your hardest to take some of it off of his shoulders.

“Alright, but now that I’m here just know I’ll be holding you to that,” a stern look on your face.

Turning back around towards Jack, you find him surveying your room, looking over the mess you created in the few hours it took for them to return home.

“So, are you going to spend the rest of the day unpacking, or can we go have some fun and celebrate the fact that you live in New Jersey now?” Jack spoke, looking at the pictures you decided to display, most of them pictures of you and the brothers throughout the years.

“I mean, I was hoping to get as much done today as I can, but I’m guessing you’ve already made plans, huh?”

“You would be correct. We’re leaving at 8, be ready,” is all Jack says, before dragging Luke out of your room.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Can't Let You Go

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Notes/Warnings: it's a fluffy ending (despite how the summary makes it sound). maybe a bit angsty . There might be cursing. Jake smokes a cigarette. Bradley and Nat are together for this, but there's not much focus on it (sorry to those who find that unappealing).

Words: 1800

-----

What’s the worst that could happen?

That one question was how your bride-to-be best friend got you to squeeze yourself into a wedding dress. You’d protested, heavily, but the last thing you wanted was to snuff out her excitement. So you appeased her with a nod and a false smile and shuffled into a dressing room to do as she'd begged.

What compelled you to select a gown you actually liked was beyond you. You hadn’t wanted to try one on, too afraid of the emotional toll that had the possibility of rearing its ugly head, and yet you didn’t just grab the closest dress off of the nearest rack. You roamed the store until you discovered the one that made your heart skip a beat. A dress that caused your breath to catch as you imagined yourself walking down an aisle, to him. 

As you looked yourself up and down, you felt the tears sprouting for the dream that never came to fruition. You couldn’t tear your eyes away until Nat shouted, “You have to come out. That's kind of the whole point, Hon.” So you did, stepping up onto the low pedestal. 

Her eyes widened, her fingers moving to cover her lips. She stared for a long moment. “Oh my God,” she said with a sweet smile, “You look perfect.”

“Nat,” you sighed, “come on.”

“You do!”

“Thank you, but this is—” Silly, you were going to say. But the jingle of the boutique door's bell interrupted you. 

From her seat on the suede couch, Nat’s eyes shot over your shoulder. Her face paled. A muttered ‘Fuck’ met your ears in the voice of her fiance. 

With your brow pinched in confusion, you turned, the dress swishing at your feet with your sharp twist. 

Two pairs of eyes were glued to you. One set—a rich, dark brown—was alight with shock; the other—mossy green and all too familiar—was filled to the brink with pain. 

“Jake…” you tried, but he was out the door. 

You found your hand reaching out the slightest in the direction he'd gone. As if you could graze your fingers over the fabric of his shirt and tighten it within your palm to pull him back to you.

After absorbing the moment, you hurriedly stepped off the pedestal and rushed into the changing room to strip yourself of the dress.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming to your fitting,” you heard Bradley attempt to whisper. 

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Jake along to pick me up,” Nat countered. You could practically see the irritation on her face, her arms crossed in defense and foot tapping loudly against the tile. 

“He didn’t want to be alone. Today marks three months since they—”

Nat shushed him as you pulled back the curtain, reclothed in your jeans and t-shirt. “Hon,” she started, taking a step toward you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”

“I know. It’s ok,” you assured her before flicking your eyes to Bradley. “Which way did he go?”

“Right,” he didn’t hesitate to say, and you nodded. 

“Thank you.”

—--

The boutique stood alone on the street, nothing flanking it and thankfully making it evident with one quick glance that Jake, had he attempted to make a run for it, wouldn’t be able to get far. You didn’t see him, so there was only one other option. 

When you rounded the building, you found him leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed, as he blew out a breath of smoke. The cigarette trapped between his fingers wiggled from his shaking hand. 

Sensing your presence, like he’d always managed to do, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t get engaged three months after we broke up.”

You walked up to his side and copied his stance. “Of course not.” When he didn’t follow up with more, you continued. “I thought you quit.”

Jake finally opened his eyes to glance down at the cigarette. “I quit for you,” he said before taking another drag. 

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. 

You’d always worried about him, long before you even got together. His job, his emotions, his habits. His job you couldn’t change, but his emotions and the habits that came with them, you could help. You’d been there for him, and he for you. Yet, it didn't occur to you that he would find himself revisiting past obstacles without you by his side. It should’ve. You should’ve pushed through any discomfort or awkwardness between you to be there for him. You should have been better.

“Jake…”

He released another stream of smoke, the quiet act somehow effectively cutting you off. “I’m not back on ‘em. Just one here or there…” he flicked his index finger to knock off the ashes, “to calm me down.”

Beats passed. How many, you couldn’t say. All you knew was that not so much silence had filled the bubble around the two of you since you were left spent and hurt after the blow up of ending your relationship. Though, in truth, you hadn’t been near each other enough in the past few months for the possibility of that situation to present itself. 

“I didn’t expect to see you,” he suddenly said, “and the dress kind of…threw me.”

“Nat made me.”

With a snort, he said, “Figures.”

More agonizing silence dragged painful memories to the surface. The tears, the shouts, the pleading and apologies from the day that continued to haunt you. 

“Jake.”

He hummed.

“I think we need to find a way to exist in the same space. It’s too difficult to try to work around one another when it comes to our friends and the places we frequent in town. I understand that you don’t want to be with me, but—”

“Me?” he snapped, head whipping in your direction. The blaze in his eyes seared the shock in yours, yet his tone maintained a calmness that, when accompanying his words, felt more eerie than anything. “I don’t want to be with you? You’re the one who ended us. You told me you were leaving, and then you didn’t even go.”

Your head fell and you began to pick at your fingernail. “Would you have preferred I left?”

“I would’ve preferred if you stayed my girlfriend.”

Looking up, you asked, “What changed your mind?”

A flash zipped across the green of his irises. “What are you talking about?”

“A week after we broke up, I chose not to go,” you said. “I wanted to be with you more than I wanted that job. I went to your house to tell you, but you weren’t there, so I went to the bar.” A hard swallow at another memory failed to relieve the aching lump in your throat. “I found you kissing some woman and I realized you’d already moved on.”

Jake took careful breaths—one too many for your liking—before letting out a soft chuckle. It held no humor. He shook his head. 

"I didn't move on."

"Jake, I saw you."

"She kissed me," he said. "I told her it wasn't going to happen, then went home and drank myself stupid trying not to think of you." His eyes tore away from yours to stare ahead. And with a pinched brow, he shook his head once again as he tossed the remaining nub of the cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I did not succeed, I should add. So, no, I didn't move on. I can't even imagine trying." 

You were overwhelmed with an array of emotions, each of them warring, mixing chaotically. Waves of relief crashed into the shame lingering from the day you fought. They churned with the pain you'd yet to let go of after seeing someone else kissing the man you love. There was a tick of embarrassment from the, now very clear, misunderstanding between you. But it was the cautious joy that overpowered it all. 

"You still love me?" You said softly. 

A low laugh rumbled in his chest. 

"That's funny?"

"No, baby, I just—" he paused then brushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I never thought I'd have to answer a question like that."

Your lips parted, ready to ask why such a simple question from you was practically stumping him, but he was one step ahead.

"I was always trying to prove how much I love you. Every single day I made sure of it. And I'd hoped I showed it well enough that you'd never need to ask," he said. A light shrug of his shoulders—barely noticeable, yet far from nonchalant—followed. "But here we are."

Without a thought to stop yourself, you reached up to cup his cheek, drawing his eyes back to yours. 

"Jake, I didn't question it. I knew you loved me," you swore. "But I ruined things, and feelings can change."

As if understanding your immediate uncertainty that bloomed from your sudden touch, Jake wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could dare to withdraw it back to your side. 

"Not mine," he said. Then quieter: "Never mine."

The fresh rawness of his stare, of his tense brow, and softly parted lips, broke your heart. He looked ready to fall to his knees and weep at your feet. He looked how you had felt for months. Like standing, breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, was not easily done. Since you’d left him, nothing had been natural. Nothing came easy. Living life was a chore. And seeing Jake release it all in front of you with his desperation and devastation clear as day, allowed you to do the same. 

Your palm fell to his chest. Jake brushed an escaped tear from the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours. 

"It's ok," he whispered. "It's gonna be ok."

"I still love you," you said between sniffles.

With a heavy exhale, his whole body eased out of its rigidity. "I love you, too."

"Would…” you started but paused, unsure if your question would be your final strike. But you couldn’t stop the pounding in your heart, nor deny the need you had for Jake. So, despite the shake in your voice, you pressed on. “Would you take me back?"

Your eyes were closed, but you could sense his smile. Then he said: 

"Baby, I never let you go."

---

A/N: it's been a minute since I posted any writing here. Sorry about that. But I'm working my way along my list and hopefully, you guys liked this :)

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi

[tomblythismyhusband]

makeup [billy the kid x fem!reader]

[summary]: billy the kid x fem!reader | anon request | Throughout your whole relationship with Billy, he had been cold. Finally you’d had enough. When telling him how you feel, Billy also reveals his true feelings which leads on to a night you both won’t forget.

[warnings]: 18+, MDNI, pnv, oral (fem!receiving), language, teasing, overstimulation, praise!kink, reader lowk bratty in the beginning

[wc]: 3.3k

[note]: thank you so much for the request!! I have the original request linked here. enjoyed writing this (even though I got a little carried away lowk….)

Cold. Thats one word to describe Billy’s behavior towards you recently. As you glared at the back of his head from across the bar you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt in your heart.

You see, you and Billy were in a relationship. A secret relationship. And honestly, you liked it like that. No one would know of your relations with a famously dangerous outlaw and you could still enjoy him.

The only problem was that Billy seemed to be drifting. He had been blowing you off more than usual and treating you differently. He was less touchy, more reserved, quiet.

You searched your brain to try to remember if you’d done something wrong to deserve this treatment but you couldn’t recall anything. And now, with your eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he laughed and drank with his friends you wondered if you should even put up with this anymore.

If he wasn’t going to treat you right then why even continue the relationship? I mean, sure he was phenomenal in bed but you also yearned for the emotional connection. And with Billy, emotions were never the main focus. He always dodged personal questions, always made excuses on why he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. The only times where he was honest were rare and usually occurred when he’d had too much whiskey.

You were a busy woman, and didn’t deserve to put up with this bullshit.

You gulped down the rest of your drink and stood up from where you sat in the bar. Seeing Billy enjoying his time with his friends made jealousy bubble up in your stomach. You wanted to get him back. Wanted to get him mad.

You knew you couldn’t directly speak to Billy without arousing suspicion about your relationship with him so instead you decided to make a subtle move. Something your mama had taught you to do.

You walked by Billy’s table,filled with clamoring cowboys. They all seemed to be drunk out of their minds. You spotted a man, swaying and slurring next to Billy holding a bottle of whiskey.

Smirking, you bumped into him, sending the man lurching forward, spilling the bottle of whiskey right onto Billy’s lap. Gasps and groans were heard in response to the “accident” you had caused.

“Oh! I’m sorry boys. Silly me.” You said with faux sincerity. You knew that all you had to do was bat your lashes and flash a smile and the mistake would be forgotten. And it worked. Worked on everyone except for the only man you made sure you’d really piss off. Billy.

“No problem darlin’.” One of the cowboys slurred, waving his hand dismissively as he grinned. Your eyes locked with Billy’s and you could almost see the burning anger in them.

“I hope you didn’t get too drenched..” You said sweetly, your lips forming a pout.

Billy glanced down at his whiskey soaked shirt and looked back up at you, making your heart flutter for a moment.

“No worries. I know you didn’t mean it ma’am.” He said through gritted teeth. You flashed him another grin and waved. “Well goodbye.”

With that you hurried out of the bar, a little bit of you hoping Billy would be on your heels demanding an explanation for your behavior.

To your disappointment he didn’t follow. Typical. He was great at ignoring and running away from problems that really needed fixing.

Deep down you knew that he would never make a scene running after you like that. He respected you and the secrecy of your relationship too much.

You huffed and walked down the creaky steps of the bar and started to make your way home. You felt only slightly intoxicated from your time drinking but it wasn’t enough to blur your judgment. You mulled over the thought of even continuing seeing Billy as you walked, biting your nails with indecision.

By the time you made it to your doorstep you made a final verdict. The next time you saw Billy you were going to call it quits. If he wasn’t going to put effort into wanting you then you didn’t want to waste your time any longer. You felt a bit lighter as the weight of the decision lifted from your mind. He would understand. He couldn’t have been oblivious to the way he was treating you.

The thought of telling Billy your decision definitely made you anxious, but you were doing this for you. You couldn’t take anymore of his standoffish attitude any longer.

Later that night you settled into bed, closing your eyes to dream when the sound of your window being wrenched open caused you to sit up quickly. Your heart beat loudly in your ears as you clutched your chest.

It was dark, the only shape you could make out was a dark figure at the edge of your bed which was lightly illuminated by the moonlight. The wind whisked in a cold draft from the now open window causing you to shiver.

“Who’s there?” You said loudly, leaving the fear out of your voice.

“Guess.”

The voice was low and rough. You knew that tone anywhere. It had whispered to you in the dark on many occasions and now was no different. You felt your body relax as you threw off your covers and stood up from your bed.

“Billy.” You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. You could now make out his rugged appearance staring at you from a few feet away. His shirt was wrinkled and missing the buttons at the top, and his hair was rumpled as well. You couldn’t deny he looked gorgeous though, with the way his blue eyes still shone bright in the darkness.

You heard his boots thump on the ground as he stepped closer to you.

“Want to explain why the hell you knocked a man’s whiskey all over me tonight?” He said in a low voice. You could feel the intensity of his gaze on you as he waited for an answer.

“It was an accident.” You shrugged. This earned a scoff from Billy. You knew he wouldn’t have believed your lie, but it was worth the shot.

“I may not know a lot of things Y/n.. but I know when you're lying.” He took another step forward and you frowned up at him.

You decided to bite the bullet and flat out tell him what you had been thinking about recently. The fate of your relationship with him.

“Billy, I think we should stop seeing each other.”

Billy froze. He had not been expecting that.

“…What?” He said slowly, eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

“I think we should stop seeing each other.” You repeated, a little louder now.

Billy’s mouth parted with disbelief. You rolled your eyes and let out a breath.

“You really couldn’t have seen this coming? You’ve been distant for weeks. Cold. I can’t let you waltz around and treat me like this anymore.”

Billy laughed, even though there was no trace of humor in his eyes.

“Cold?” He chuckled. “I haven’t treated you any differently than when we first started dating.”

You scoffed, glaring at him. “Are you serious? You’ve seemingly avoided me for weeks. You don’t even try to see me anymore. You're either out doing god knows what or drinking your brains out at the saloon!” You felt anger bubble up in your gut. How could he be so.. uncaring?

Billy shook his head. “That ain’t true, I try to see yo-“

“Don’t lie. Don’t you dare lie to me Billy.” You snapped, taking a step forward to emphasize the demand.

Billy crossed his arms, not liking your tone nor your accusations.

“You’ve been treating me like shit.” You said angrily. “And I’m tired of it.”

Billy’s jaw ticked at your words. He tore a hand through his brown curls with frustration. “Darlin’ I didn’t-“

“No.” You cut him off again. “Don’t darling me.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you began to pace.

“All I ever do is wait for you. Wait for you to see me, wait for you to pay attention to me. And guess what? You never do. I’m not gonna walk and wait for you any longer. I’m tired of it I-“

Billy took a step forward, grabbing your shoulders, stopping you from pacing. The action caught you off guard, causing the breath to escape your lungs. The bedroom went silent.

“It’s because I can’t fucking control myself around you.” Billy growled.

You froze in his grip, your brain replaying the words again and again. You didn’t know what the hell he was on about.

“W- what? What are you talking about?” You whispered, staring wide eyed up at him.

Billy let out the breath he had been holding in. His grip on your shoulders tightened. Not painful, but full of urgency.

“I can’t fuckin’ control myself around you Y/n. And I know I’ve been treating’ you like shit. I’m sorry. I’m just scared. Scared to get in too deep, because when I look at you-.” He paused. “When I look at you all I want to do is love you and I know deep down I ain’t good for you.”

You blinked at him, not believing what you were hearing.

“What are you saying..” You whispered.

Billy looked down. “I’m saying I’m fucking in love with you Y/n. But- I know you don’t deserve someone like me- a nobody. And I push you away because honestly.. I’m scared that I'll mess something up. That you’ll leave. That I’ll hurt you.”

You shook your head quickly. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”

Billy’s gaze flicked up to yours. “I already have.” He whispered.

You paused for a moment. “Is this really how you feel?” You said softly, searching his expression for answers. His blue eyes looked so much more fierce now with the added emotion.

Billy nodded. “It’s stupid, I know but goddamn it- You're perfect and I can’t help but go crazy around you.”

You lifted up his hands to cup his face. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt sooner..?” You murmured.

Billy turned his head into your cheek, kissing your palm softly. “I was scared Y/n. Scared of what you’d say. I’m sorry.” You felt his words vibrate against your palm sending a delicious shiver up your spine.

“Prove it.” You whispered.

Billy’s eyes flicked up to yours. “What?”

You could see the confusion in his expression as you cleared your throat.

“Prove it. Prove that you love me then.”

Billy hesitated, lips parted as his mind worked through the words coming out of your mouth. He then stood up straighter, slowly snaking a hand around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Do I have your permission to darlin’?” He mumbled. Your body grew excited with anticipation. You were aware of what he was insinuating, and you were sure as hell not complaining.

“Yes.” You breathed, tilting your head to let Billy’s other hand slide around your neck. You felt his fingers brush across your jaw as he held you, his grip gentle. You tell he was holding back.

“Billy..” You said softly. He dipped his head lower towards yours. “Don’t.. don’t hold back.”

Billy’s eyebrows raised. He then squeezed your body slightly tighter. “Are you sure.. because I want to do so many things to you right now.” He murmured.

You nodded, but before you could even say anything in response he had you pinned against the wall. You gasped as he placed his lips on your own. He swallowed your moans, pushing his tongue between your lips, kissing you frantically as if he’d been starving. His hand encased your neck, keeping your head perfectly angled for his lips.

You liked this side of him, it felt real, raw. The way he nipped at your bottom lip between kisses, roamed his hands over your body, and let out tiny sounds of need made your heart thump louder in your chest.

You shut your eyes and gave into the feelings washing over you. The darkness made the feeling of his lips so surreal. You kept your eyes closed until you felt Billy tap your cheek lightly with his pointer and middle finger. You fluttered your eyelids open, lips parted looking up at him.

“Keep your eyes open darlin’.” Billy rasped, his eyes staring into your own. “I need you to be able to see how much I want you.” You let out a sigh at his words, a sigh of surprise. He’d never been this attentive when fucking you before.

Billy then took his hands and slid down the sleeves of your night dress. The cold air hit your bare shoulders instantly, but the chill was soon replaced with warmth when Billy placed his lips there.

Billy nipped at your collarbone, making his way closer to your chest with every kiss. While he kissed you, you could feel one of his hands slide up your leg, bunching up the fabric of your dress as it traveled.

“You're so perfect.” Billy mumbled against your skin.

You felt so overwhelmed with his touch you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted him to fuck you. Right then and now.

“Billy-“ You gasped as he kissed the tops of your breasts, which were now peaking out of your dress due to how it had been pulled down, “I need you- please.”

You could feel Billy’s lips form a smirk against your chest. “Already?” He chuckled.

You took his face in your hands and guided it back up to your mouth. You kissed him feverishly, aching for more than he was giving to you.

“Let me pick you up.” You heard Billy mumble softly against your messy kisses. You moved yourself a little off the wall as Billy’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing before lifting you. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist and he carried you with ease over to your bed.

The world around you whirled as he laid you down on the bed roughly, bed springs creaking, before crawling on top of you to reach your lips again.

You tugged at his shirt as he kissed you, signaling to him that you wanted it off. Billy complied, sitting up, strong thighs straddling your waist, as he began to unbutton his shirt. You looked up at him with admiration. His curls were all tousled and arrayed across his forehead, his lips pink and plump due to your kisses.

Billy’s hands worked quickly on the buttons of his shirt before sliding down his suspenders and pulling off the garment and tossing it aside. His chest, defined and strong, was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Goddamn it, you're gorgeous.” You mumbled, feeling the butterflies in your stomach so intensely now. He let out a low chuckle, bending down to hover over you again.

You grabbed his neck and fiercely pulled him back onto you. Lips and teeth clashing with stronger intensity than before. Your hand flew up to dig itself in his curls as he began to trail his way down your body. He pushed up your night dress to your hips before you sat up slightly to pull it off over your head and onto the floor.

Billy smiled down at you admiring your breasts that now sat perfectly displayed as you laid there. Then he averted his eyes down to the pretty white panties you wore, desire. glinting in his eyes.

His fingers traced up your thighs, painfully slow even though you could tell he was doing everything in his power not to go batshit crazy and fuck the life out of you. You felt the sensation of his fingers gently skimming the fabric keeping him from your cunt.

You watched, biting your cheek in anticipation, as he slowly bent down towards your core, pulling down your panties and tossing them aside. You watched as Billy wet his lips before attaching his lips to your pussy.

You jolted, back immediately arching as he pushed his tongue throughout your folds, lapping up your slick.

“Fuck-“ You choked, mouth falling slack as he ate your cunt. His fingers placed themselves on your clit, massaging circles as his tongue worked on your folds. You panted as the knot in your gut became tighter and tighter, the pleasure growing by the second.

After a few more minutes of this you came, letting out a breathy moan at the unexpected intensity of it.

Billy grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and crawling up so his face was over yours again. His eyes skimmed over your features as you came down from your climax. Billy bent down and kissed you again. You could taste yourself on his lips but you didn’t mind.

“You taste so damn good.” Billy murmured as he kissed you. You heard the clinking of his belt sliding off. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as you snakes your hands around Billy’s body to grip his back.

Soon Billy’s trousers were thrown aside along with his boxers. At that moment you wanted him so bad that you kissed his face frantically, not letting him break for air. You felt the head of Billy’s cock prod at your opening, letting a moan escape your lips.

“I want all of you.” You whispered as you kissed him.

Billy let out a soft grunt in reply, sinking into you, filling you up. You both stopped for a moment just getting used to the feeling before Billy began to move his hips slowly. You squeezed him, nails digging into his back as he began to pick up the pace.

This was when Billy let go. hips snapping, mouth open, eyes fluttering, hands gripping you firmly. You were whisked away into your own world. A world where it was just you and him, moving together with ease, moans of pleasure escaping your lips.

“S’ good.” Billy moaned, thrusting harder into you. Your whimpers sounded sweet in his ears, reassuring him that he was making you feel good.

“Billy..” You breathed. “I’m- I-“ You stumbled over your words.

“I know doll.. I know.” Billy rasped, pounding into you relentlessly as his lips danced upon your skin, marking you as his.

Tears pricked in your eyes, the feeling of Billy’s cock absolutely overwhelmingly as you chased your second orgasm. The familiar knot of tension in your gut began to form again and by the feeling of Billy’s thrusts, he was close too.

Billy mumbled praises against your neck until he finally came. He let out a throaty moan as you clenched around him, intensifying his own orgasm.

You both laid still for a moment, Billy’s cock still buried deep inside of you. Then as exhaustion hit, you pulled Billy down so he was laying limp on top of you. You ran your hands through the curls that feathered over his forehead, now slick with sweat.

“I think you proved that you love me pretty well.” You whispered, playing with his hair still.

Billy let out a deep hum. You could feel the movement of his chest as he breathed as well as the rapid thumping of his heart.

“Darlin’ I’m just getting started.” He mumbled. You glanced down at him to see his eyes drooping shut, and you didn’t blame him. It was late. His words earned a chuckle from you as you dipped your head to place a soft kiss on his temple.

“Someone’s a little too tired for more I’m thinkin’.” You teased softly. Billy just let out another exhausted hum as an answer.

“Goodnight Billy.” You whispered, feeling your own wave of tiredness was over you. Billy shifted to wrap his hands around your naked body, making you, as well as him, more comfortable.

“I hope you never forget how much I love you.” Billy mumbled. You closed your eyes and listened to his breathing.

“I won’t.” You finally whispered back.

Soon soft snores escaped Billy’s lips, lulling you off into a sweet sleep, full of a newfound feelings for your lover. You felt as if you broke through his shell, and you were excited to get closer to him.

[lovebugism]

Hii can i request “It’s a brain freeze, you’re not dying, stop making a scene.” with steve for the fictober event pretty please

ty for requesting lovie!! — you and steve get too drunk at a halloween party and chief hopper comes to save you (tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, tw for drinking and not being proofread, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Steve opens the back door of Jim’s cop car for you, swaying in place and urging your drunken limps inside. “Thanks for picking us up, Chief,” you chirp, slurring slightly and smiling wide.

The old grump sends you a deadpanned look over his shoulder. He’s visibly tired, features blurred with exhaustion. His white t-shirt and pajama pants are still wrinkled with leftover sleep. The two of you are wearing two a.m. very definitely.

“Yeah, yeah. Just buckle up, alright?” he hums gruffly as Steve slides in beside you. “I’m just happy you two called me and didn’t try to drive yourself.”

He puts the car in drive and peels away from the curb. The bass pulsing from Tina’s house begins to fade. The man flinches dramatically when you lean forward to slap his shoulder.

“That’s ‘cause we’re responsible adults,” you quip, then turn to your right to look at your boyfriend. “Aren’t we, Stevie?”

The Stevie in question is on a different planet entirely. His hair is a wild chestnut halo on his head, the crown of it tilted to the headrest. The tendons of his neck are on display, as are the faint red lipstick stains you pressed onto his tanned skin. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Cheeks rosy and eyes fluttered shut, you can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not.

“Right, Stevie?” you repeat with a gentle shove to his arm.

His eyes open, red-rimmed and glassy. “Hm?”

“We’re responsible.”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally. Look at us,” he scoffs without a second thought.

The two of you flash a couple of drunk, lopsided grins at Jim, who peers at you from the rearview mirror. He grumbles something under his breath neither of you can make out.

You get distracted by the amber streetlights flitting by until looking out the window makes you queasy. When you look at Steve again, his eyes are shut and his chin is tilted towards his chest. You feel an obligation to keep him awake — like he’s concussed or something and not just piss drunk.

“You with me, Stevie?” you mutter, reaching for his face and holding his stubbly chin between your thumb and forefinger.

His heavy eyelids flutter slowly open. His dark eyes are honeyed. They flit like syrup across your features. A smile pulls at the right corner of his plush mouth. “You look so pretty right now, you know that?” he murmurs in inaudible slurs.

You hear him anyway, equally as drunk and speaking the same language even though Jim can’t understand a word.

“Just right now?” you tease. “As opposed to, like, every other moment in time?”

His bushy brows twist in offense — nose scrunching and lips pouting, like you’ve pained him by even joking about it. “No. You’re pretty all the time, just… A little extra like this.”

You don’t know what he means. You look like a total mess — hair wild, makeup smudged, drunk and fatigued and wearing it all over. But Steve looks at you like you’re beautiful anyway. Like you hung the fucking moon sitting full in the pitch black sky.

His brows raise and his eyes sparkle. “’S kinda makin’ my heart race a little bit, actually.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, turning him away from you and letting go of his chin. “That’s just the alcohol, Stevie.”

“No, it’s love—”

You giggle at his slurred singing, louder when he leans across the backseat to kiss you. His aim is horribly off, wet mouth smacking at the corner of your lips down towards your chin. 

Hopper shouts at you anyway. “Hey! Uh-uh, no sucking face in my backseat— especially not in front of me, alright?” the man grouses, hands fidgeting on the steering wheel. “Spare me the emotional turmoil, will ya?”

You sneak a quiet peck to Steve’s pouted mouth when Jim’s not looking.

The boy grins with contentment a second later. “Mm,” he hums, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip. “You taste like cherry.”

“It’s the punch. It tasted just like slurpees, I swear—” You’re about to start rambling, then cut yourself off with a dramatic gasp. “Hopper!”

“No,” the man montones from the front seat. It’s like he can read your mind. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say!” you whine with a pout.

“I’m not stopping for slurpees, alright? I’m taking you kids home so you can sober up and get the hell out from under me. That’s it.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. For that fleeting second, Jim thinks he’s won. Then you and Steve inhale a deep breath and beg at the same time, “Pleaseeee!”

He sighs so deeply his chest deflates like a popped balloon. He readjusts his grip on the pleather steering wheel and grumbles like a storm cloud.

“Jim, please,” you beg, dramatic and terribly loud with it. The man flinches when you reach forward to grab his arm. He slows at a stoplight and turns back to look at you, bathed in neon red and sparkling with desperation. “I need slurpees to live.”

Jim blinks at you for a moment, then turns away when the light goes green again. He shakes his head and mumbles, “God, you’re so dramatic…” 

You smile all giddy as you sit back because you know you’ve won.

“You’re lucky I need to get gas, anyway,” he tells you, just to make himself feel better, as he pulls into the nearest Seven-Eleven parking.

The intensity of the fluorescent lights makes you squint. The very distant headache you’ve been fighting off since midnight starts to creep back up again. Steve sees this — because there’s nothing about you he doesn’t notice — and swipes his sunglasses off his face to put them on you.

“Thanks, Zuko,” you joke as he pushes the plastic up the bridge of your nose.

Jim, seemingly less grumpy than moments before, unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at the two of you over his shoulder. “That’s what you guys are supposed to be?” he scoffs out a laugh as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket. “Those kids from Grease?”

“No,” you answer with a dramatic drawl. “I’m you. Duh.”

Hopper almost breaks his neck with the double take he gives you. He squints at your tropical-patterned shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and tucked into your jeans, and realizes you are him. He doesn’t know if he should be mad or honored.

“I was supposed to be Sandy, but then Steve ripped the costume,” you reason with a shrug.

Jim’s eyes narrow. “Was it too small?”

“Nope,” you answer in a monotone, popping the ‘p.’

His scruffy face twists like he’s tasted something sour. “You guys are disgusting.”

“It was a blessing in disguise, though. This is, like, a kajillion times more comfortable.”

Steve nods beside you, slow and sloppy and full of hubris. “This was a much better choice.”

“It’s super hot, right?”

“Total dilf material.”

Jim’s features scrunch. It’s like you two are speaking a different language. “What the hell does that mean?” he wonders aloud. 

You and Steve share a look before snickering and getting out of the car. 

He repeats, louder this time. “Hey. What does dilf mean? Hey! I’m talking to you—”

His only answer is the slam of the car door.

Like an annoyed father, Jim swears at the two of you under his breath while he pumps gas but eyes both of you attentively to make sure you get inside without busting your ass. 

When he follows you to pay, he finds you acting like a couple of unsupervised toddlers. You lick flavored ice from your fingertips while Steve leans back with his face beneath the lever, pouring blue raspberry slush into his mouth.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Jim scolds from the entrance, brows pinched and mouth agape. Your eyes go wide, still licking syrup from your fingers. Steve, meanwhile, is still trying to swallow his melting mouthful. Hopper shakes his head. “There are cups right next to you.”

The man escorts the both of you out after he pays. 

Steve holds one of your hands and swings it between your bodies. Your free hand is at your head, rubbing gently at your temples. The ache is distant and dull, like an ice pick has been shoved inside your skull.

“Ow…” you whine softly to yourself when getting into the car jostles the pain. 

Jim watches you try and fail to buckle yourself in. He can’t tell if you’re still just drunk or if your headache’s making it harder for you. Maybe both. He reaches over to help you anyway.

“It’s just a brain freeze, you’re not dying,” the man grouses over your whining, clicking the latch into place. “Stop making a scene about it. You’re fine.”

He leans back from you and is about to shut the door. Then, with a flat face, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“My head hurts…” you murmur, slurring like a sick child desperate to be babied.

Hopper sighs. “You’re okay…”

He shuts the door with a gentle push. He gets into the driver’s seat and resumes the drive home in a relative quiet.

You and Steve lean against each other in the backseat. He hogs the slurpee you both agreed to share, but you don’t mind. You’re still fighting off a headache like you’re fighting off sleep.

“Did you have fun?” the boy asks you, resting his cheek against your hair. You can smell the blue raspberry on his breath.

“I always have fun,” you mumble.

“At Halloween parties?”

“No, dummy. With you.”

“Oh,” he hums with a crooked smile you can’t see. “Sweet.”

Jim’s smiling to himself before he means to, shaking his head at how goddamn in love the two of you are. It’s so sanguine, it makes him sick.

He slows when he pulls up to Steve’s house. The mansion is totally empty — not a car in the driveway or a single light on. No one’s here, because no one’s ever here. 

“Alright, lovebirds. We’re here. Get out,” he announces, voice gruff with the sleep he wishes he was getting.

The car jerks softly when he puts it in park. When he looks over his shoulder, he finds you and Steve totally knocked out. Eyes shut, mouths open, lips stained purple from red and blue slurpees.

Jim huffs. “You gotta be kidding me…”

He feigns annoyance about the whole thing because he’s got a reputation to uphold. He’s the grumpy old man you come to for help — that’s his thing. So even in your sleep, he grumbles with a light-hearted irritation as he drives you back to the cabin. At least there he can keep an eye on you both.

[eraserarcade]

Class 1-A is introduced to you, the new student, part 2

(Part 1) (this will be a link soon)

You walked into class the next day, hands in your pockets, sticking by Aizawa’s side as he taught the rest of your classmates. Most wondered why you weren’t allowed to participate, but as he trained the rest of the class, he trained you as well, however, less on the quirk aspect, and more on the psychological aspect of your quirk.

“Y/N,” Aizawa started.

“Yes, sir?”

“What triggers the big emotions that leads you to needing to let off steam?” What a question, and so straight forward too. You watched everyone else for a bit, thinking about what actually causes your anger.

“I think it can be several different things. I don’t like when people assume I don’t use my quirk because I’m weak. At the same time, talking about how strong it is just reminds me of what I did a few months back. It’s very difficult to live with that reality. It makes me angry that I have no control, both over my quirk, and my emotions. I don’t know where to start, and that is also a trigger. I feel stuck.”

Aizawa looked at you for a moment, then spoke. “I see.” You continued to watch your classmates, but particularly watched Todoroki the most. After all, he did have the most similar quirk to yours. You also watched Bakugo, using the strength from his explosions to propel him forward at his opponent. You looked up to both of them, but one of them seemed to think you were weak for not knowing how to control your own quirk, and you just haven’t had a conversation with the other.

Aizawa seemed to notice this, and he asked Bakugo and Todoroki to stay after class. Class was dismissed after a while, and you were sitting in the back of the classroom now. Aizawa spoke to Todoroki and Bakugo about your quirk.

“Y/N has had a difficult time controlling his quirk. He looks up to you two. He watches you both when you spar with classmates.”

Todoroki listened intently, and Bakugo couldn’t give less than a damn.

“Tell him to stop being such a weakling, and maybe he’d control himself,” said Bakugo. His words hurt you. You looked up to him and his abilities to work with his quirk, but he only ridicules you.

“I mean, come on, we’ve had quirks now for close to 10 years now, shouldn’t he know how to already use it?” Bakugo scoffed.

“I don’t think it’s that simple, Bakugo. Perhaps we don’t know the full story.” Todoroki said, standing up for you. His words helped to calm you back down.

“Todoroki is right, Bakugo. You don’t know the full story. Anyways, he wants to learn to control his quirk before the sports festival. He wants to participate, but is afraid of some past trauma’s resurfacing. As I said yesterday, he is seeing the administration here, and we help him in any way we can.”

“I assume since he’s looking up to Bakugo and I, he has a type of fire quirk?”

“Yes, he does.”

“It’s called Blue Flame,” you said. “Except it seems to come out when I’m angry, or showing any kind of emotion that raises my heart rate. The heat also causes extreme heat exhaustion, which makes me more susceptible to heat stroke.”

Todoroki and Bakugo looked at you while you were speaking. Both listened intently, although Bakugo truly seemed uninterested.

“I think if we are to help him overcome his fears of his own quirk, we need to see how out of control his quirk is. Don’t you agree, Bakugo?”

“Whatever… I don’t like to help hero-wannabes.” There it was. The anger began to rise. You felt the anger radiate through your arms, almost like you needed to punch Bakugo in the face to show him how powerful you were. Aizawa’s eyes glowed red and his hair stood upwards. He was keeping everyone else safe by erasing your quirk.

“Y/N, don’t take Bakugo’s words to heart. He thinks he’s invincible. Although, we could use some of that anger when we show them your strength.”

Later that day, Aizawa took you, Todoroki, and Bakugo to the fireproof room made for you to get out your pent up anger. Aizawa let you in as Todoroki and Bakugo stood by the glass to see your power. On the outside of this room was a mic where Aizawa could speak to you inside the room. He spoke into the mic and said, “Y/N, ready to show them?”

Your anger being present made you even more ready to show them, especially Bakugo, what you’re made of. You flashed a grin as your body erupted into flames that reached the ceiling.

The bright blue flames stunned them for a second, but once they were able to look, they saw that your flames overtook your body, except for your face. Your eyes glowed along with the flames. The look on Bakugo’s face was priceless. Seeing the overconfident, egotistical brat be afraid made you feel some sort of satisfaction.

Todoroki was amazed, but also quite frightened. Your chest moved up and down as you were breathing angrily.

“Wow,” Todoroki said. “He’s got bigger anger issues than you, Bakugo, but he’s better at hiding it.”

“Yes,” Aizawa said, agreeing with Todoroki. “Y/N always bursts into these flames. We can never seem to make them smaller. They only seem to get larger and larger. Perhaps you’d be able to help him, Todoroki. Demonstrate to him how you control your fire. And Bakugo, once he’s more mastered at how much power he gives out, you could show him how to utilize that to his advantage.”

Bakugo scoffed, and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, whatever, but don’t think of it as a favor or because I think he’s a friend because he’s not.” The room filled with silence as the three of them watched you blast out fiery punches, and flames from your hands. After about 30 minutes, you were exhausted. Aizawa used the mic to tell you that he was going to erase your quirk, but as he said so, you continued to rage and scream. You were a bit slower than when you initially started, but you were still throwing punches and kicks in all directions, and at the fire-proof practice dummy that Hatsume made for you.

Aizawa opened the door, and erased your quirk. You threw a few more exhausted punches before collapsing onto the ground. This made Todoroki and Bakugo stand up, not knowing what had happened. Aizawa brought you out of the room, and laid you down on the cooling floor.

“Y/N easily suffers from heat exhaustion, as he told you in the class. He’ll be just fine. Don’t you two worry. Although, your quirk might be the most useful to him for now, Todoroki. With your ice, you could help him keep cool as he learns more about how to control his quirk.”

“That’s what I was thinking too. I’d be happy to help, sir.”

“You both are dismissed, I will give you the details tomorrow. Thank you for staying after class.”

—

AN: Had this in my notes for a while! I hope you enjoy this part! I am also working on a new AU! I’ll let you know when it’s ready! (Also, asks are open! Lmk what you’d like to see between these chapters!)

[fanficlolsblog]

TASTE

sabrina carpenter masterlist

pairing: sabrina carpenter x fem!reader

summary: your favourite artist, sabrina carpenter asks you to be in her new music video, ‘taste’, which of course you couldn’t refuse…

warnings: none!

It was an ordinary Wednesday when an email arrived that made my heart race with excitement. Sabrina Carpenter, one of my favorite artists, was reaching out to me. She wanted me to be in her new music video for ‘Taste.’ I could hardly believe it—I’d been a fan for years, and now I was being given a chance to work with her. I agreed without hesitation.

The day of the shoot arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves and excitement. Sabrina’s team met me at a chic studio, where the atmosphere was buzzing with creative energy. When Sabrina walked in, she looked even more stunning in person. Her smile was bright, and her energy was infectious.

“Hey there!” Sabrina greeted me warmly. “You must be the one I’ve been hearing so much about from my team! It’s lovely to meet you dear.” She takes out her hand for me to shake.

I tried to keep my composure but felt my cheeks flush. “Hi I’m Y/N. I’m so excited to be here. Thank you for inviting me.” I grab her hand, her hands are so soft.

Sabrina’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she shines her beautiful smile. “Of course! I have a feeling we’re going to make a great team.” She says as she shakes my hand and winks at me. My cheeks probably look so read right now… “Let’s go over the concept, shall we?”

We went through the details, and that’s when I learned about the kiss… it was part of a scene in the video where Sabrina and I were supposed to share a moment of connection. My stomach did a little flip at the news. The idea of kissing Sabrina Carpenter was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

As the scene approached, Sabrina came up to me with a playful glint in her eyes. “Ready for our big scene?” she asked, her voice low and teasing.

I nodded, trying to stay calm. “Um yeah, I think so.”

Sabrina stepped closer, her proximity sending butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Don’t worry,” she said softly. “It’s just a kiss. Just trust me, okay?”

When the cameras started rolling, Sabrina and I were caught up in the intensity of the moment. We shared a tender, lingering kiss that felt both surreal and exhilarating. I grab ahold of her face pulling her closer. As we pulled away, I caught a glimpse of Sabrina’s warm smile and the way her eyes sparkled with genuine affection. “Wow…”

Sabrina giggles a bit as she lets go of my waist. Shit did i just say that out loud? “Was I that good darling?” I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out as Sabrina walks away from me to her team.

Once filming wrapped, Sabrina walked over to me, her demeanor relaxed and flirtatious. “You were amazing today. I really enjoyed working with you.”

I grinned, feeling a mix of elation and disbelief. “Thanks, Sabrina. It was incredible to be a part of this. It felt surreal,” I say as i slightly laugh. Sabrina grins at me, I swear i see her eyes glimmer again.

She leaned in slightly closer to my face, her voice playful. “You know, we should hang out sometime. I’d love to get to know you better outside of all this.”

My heart skipped a beat. “That would be… great.”

Sabrina reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “How about you give me your number? I’ll text you so we can set something up.”

I quickly gave her my number, biting my bottom lip slightly trying to hide my excitement. “Here you go.”

Sabrina took the number with a smile. “Perfect. I’ll be in touch soon. It was lovely to meet you, Y/N.” She pulls me into a hug.

“You too,” I pull away as she starts to walk away. She turns around to give one last look back and glimmers her pearly white teeth one last time. I smile back to her as she fully turns around to continue walking.

As she walked away, I was left grinning from ear to ear. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions, from the thrill of the kiss to the unexpected invitation to hang out. I couldn’t wait to see what would come next.

[crguang]

meet me in the afterglow

The Astral Express landed on your sick planet and removed the cancer of your world. Even though Himeko belongs with stars as bright as she shines while your place is on steady ground, you would suffer the distance if it meant knowing her.

long distance relationship, hurt/comfort, 7k words.

A/N: this really beat my ass. himeko pov practice, i wanted a more emotional piece so she feels a bit ooc to me

The video call connects and your slightly obscured face is viewed at a low angle. You look down at the screen, smiling with your teeth when you see her, and Himeko easily mirrors your happiness. Her cheek rests in the palm of her hand, elbow on the desk’s surface as she gazes at you through the phone.

“Hiii,” you wave at her cheerfully. Himeko hears the sound of a door closing in the background and with a couple of steps into your apartment, the lights flicker open, illuminating your bright expression born from the mere sight of her. The weariness of her eventful day washes away faced with the striking love you hold for her and she can’t help a short giggle from falling past her lips at your greeting. The musical sound lights up the color in your eyes. 

“Hi. Did you just get home?”

You hum in agreement, your keys rattling in your hands. “Today was so long. I’m happy you called.”

You step out of your shoes and walk around your apartment, only looking up from the screen to open your bedroom door. Himeko watches you prop the device on top of your desk and wander around the room while you discard your jacket. A full-length mirror stands across from the desk, showing your figure even when you’re not in the camera frame.

“Me too, we haven’t talked in a while,” Himeko says as you rummage through your drawers. “How have you been?”

“Yeah, we’ve both been really busy,” you find a clean shirt and begin pulling the one you’re wearing over your head. “Oh!” 

You excitedly walk back in front of the phone, shirt hanging around your neck and exposing your torso. You seem too thrilled to care, but Himeko’s gaze unashamedly lowers to your chest until you clap your hands once and speak again. 

“I got the promotion yesterday! I wanted to tell you. I’d say it was worth being worked to the bone this last month.”

“You did?!” She beams. “I knew you would, no one worked as hard as you have for this. I’m so proud of you.”

The delight on your face warms her from head to toe. It’s a wonder how light you make her despite being multiple warp jumps away, you shine through the distance and effortlessly reach the depths of her chest, filling her with hot air until she’s drifting among the stars she knows so well, weightless. You take the work you do seriously, so she does as well. Your victories are hers, and it feels as though she’s gone through them all with you even though she’s not often physically present. 

“Thank you. How are you? Is the Express parked somewhere?”

“I’m doing good. We’re on the way to Herta’s space station right now for a few minor repairs and to stock up on supplies. We should be there for a couple of days.”

You change into a graphic t-shirt and thin pyjama pants, nodding along to her words. You pick the phone back up and bring it closer to your face. A small, fleeting crease appears between your brows as you truly take her in and notice her lack of sleeping clothes.

“Are you still working?”

Himeko hums lightly, a finger absentmindedly tracing patterns on the desk. “I need to finish up a couple of things.”

You take her with you to the bathroom, and the brighter light makes the concerned down curve of your mouth apparent. “Don’t sleep too late.”

You miss her fond smile. “I won’t.”

You set her up near the sink so you can start brushing your teeth. It’s nice to be privy to these mundane moments, these glimpses of domesticity, even if Himeko wishes she could witness them in person. Her smile twitches at the corners at the cursory thought, but it zooms past when your eyes light up with an idea and you rush to spit the toothpaste into the sink to talk properly. Your expressiveness is a treasure she deeply cherishes. 

“I forgot to tell you,” you quickly rinse your mouth and wipe it with the back of your hand, “I need your advice on something. I was invited to this formal-ish dinner this week and I’m not sure what to wear.”

“What kind of event is it?”

You pick up the phone and make your way back into the bedroom. “An acquaintance’s birthday dinner. It’ll be a good way to make some connections, though, hence my hesitation.”

Upon Humeko’s request, you adjust the screen on your desk to show her the outfits you visualized for the event. You’re too engrossed in your task to feel shy as you change in front of the camera and the endearment of it all almost overshadows the desire bubbling in Himeko’s lowered gaze. She finds her fingertips aching to trail down your bare biceps and forearms, across the tender skin of your wrists and over the lines of your palms; a homogeneous mix of gentle yearning and lingering melancholy simmers inside her chest. The distance between you suddenly feels as immense as it is because no matter what either of you does right now, she cannot touch you. It’s an imposing part of her, touch. Tangling her fingers in your hair, tracing the faint marks of your hips and thighs, pressing reverent kisses on the apple of your cheeks or behind your ears— they are confessions she slowly realizes that she can’t go without. She will utter warm truths meant solely for you, and even shout them if you wish, but her hands are growing restless. She does everything with her hands, she tinkers and soothes and creates, but she cannot touch you, not as often as she craves to. The feeling isn’t unfamiliar, she simply tells herself that she misses you particularly hard on this day and counts the next ones until you reunite. Tonight… perhaps it’s the month-long absence with only scattered messages exchanged between you or the fact that you’re trying on clothes for yet another event she won’t get to experience with you, but the longing curled around her rib cage tingles uncomfortably. 

You turn to face the camera, showing off one of your outfits, and Himeko’s smile holds a sad tint that you don’t notice straight away. It’s hidden behind genuine affection, but she unknowingly becomes slower to answer and you send her a quizzical look. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, stepping closer to the phone to see her better. 

“Of course.” Himeko blinks, not expecting the question, and answers reflexively. You don’t seem convinced, so she adds, “This outfit is my favorite, you look gorgeous in it. You should put your hair up to go with it.”

You nod slowly, eyes flickering over her features in search of what lurks beneath her easy demeanor. When she doesn’t expand on the matter, you let it go. You start taking off the outfit to change back into your pyjamas. It’s briefly quiet for a moment and in usual circumstances the silence would be comfortable but there’s a persistent weight on Himeko’s chest that she can’t part with, it manages to cloud your sunny smiles and bright eyes enough for a soft sigh to escape her. She’s full of affection as you settle into bed with your phone in your hands and look at her with half your face squished into your pillow, it is exactly what this discouragement is born from and she can’t elude it. She feels a touch of guilt come into the mix for having something so beautiful bred such negative emotions. 

Your thumb hovers over her image on the screen as you speak. “If you’re not too busy… I have this weekend off. We could see each other?”

Himeko quickly runs through the tasks she has to complete this week. If she moves some things around and delegates others well, she should be able to free up at least an entire day to visit you— and she will because just the thought of having you close has her floating a few inches from the ground. 

“I can do Saturday,” she replies. The promise of seeing you soon almost melts away every other thought.

“Oh. That’s not too bad.”

Her pout is playful but her question is not. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing. I just miss you.”

Right. Though you don’t often complain, she’s reminded that the distance also weighs on you sometimes. Guilt grows steadily in the dark confines of her guts like a slow-acting cancer. Himeko knows it’s not anyone’s fault that she’s a Nameless fated to travel among the stars while you’re rooted to your world, helping its recovery from a Stellaron disaster. You’re needed where you are, she’s walking the path of the trailblaze, but she can’t help feeling awful at the dismissive way you imply that it’s been some time since you last saw each other in person. She bears the responsibility of your happiness and a sense of failure overcomes her whenever it’s clear that her absence saddens you. It’s easier to blame herself when she’s the one who never stays too long in one place.

“…I miss you too, you know.”

“I know,” you offer her a soft smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. Himeko does her best to return it. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.”

—

Himeko doesn’t show up on Saturday. You’ve left her multiple messages, called her phone throughout the day, growing increasingly worried every time you reached her voicemail, and waited in your apartment for hours in case she would appear on your doorstep. You stand in front of the kitchen counter where two cold servings of her favorite dish lay and stare at the phone screen, opened on your private texts, like the familiar three dots indicating that she’s online will suddenly pop up. You tell yourself that she likely got caught up in something important and ignore the mocking voice that asks, “Are you not important, too?” You feel the food under your nose is laughing at you, its carefully plated vegetables reminding you of your previous excitement and exacerbating your current disappointment, so you put it in a container and throw it in the fridge. You’re not hungry anymore. It’s not the first time your plans have fallen through but Himeko usually warns you that she can’t make it or calls you with soft apologies on her lips. Because of your schedule, you’ve had to cancel a couple of times too, these things happen and no one’s to blame for them. That thought doesn’t dissolve the dejection burning your throat. 

It’s late in the evening, and you settle on the couch with a book you’ve been meaning to read for weeks now but have been lacking the free time to do so. Two chapters in and the words stop making sense; they dance on the page and merge to form completely different sentences as your mind wanders to what lies beyond your skies— the grandiosity of the Astral Express. You visited it a few times, back when its crew parked on your planet and helped seal the Stellaron that was eating at your world. You still remember its large panoramic windows and the boundless stars beyond them, its long hallways and cozy parlor. Traveling with such an extraordinary companion makes each day worth remembering. That train is her oldest friend, she saved it from erosion and has taken great care of it since, it’s witnessed her growth as a Trailblazer and showed her sights you can’t picture. You understand, a little because Himeko introduced you to the constellations with a hand on your forearm and you smell coffee beans whenever you look up at them from your balcony. 

You mark your page and put down the book. There’s no point in attempting to read more tonight, your head is full of those first days spent learning Himeko; her talent for diplomacy, a strength that could shake the seas and a regard for life just as unwavering. She sometimes says your meeting was meticulously etched into the firmament. You didn’t care much for the truth behind fate before her, she single-handedly turned you into a believer like she was an angel apparition bringing news from above. You’d argue being loved by her is akin to a religious experience, her palms soften your woes and her sincere words touch parts of you that you’ve never known until she spoke. You wish to revere her without constraints. 

You’re so lost in memories that the sudden melody of your ringtone startles you. You reach for the phone on the coffee table. You stare at the contact, hesitant, before erasing all wistfulness from your features and accepting the video call.

Himeko waits for the call to connect with a thundering heart and guilt pooling in her stomach. She dreads this so much, dreads seeing the frown on your lips knowing she’s the cause of it, that she’s put back talking to you for two hours now. She owes you an explanation, of course, and she doesn’t seek your forgiveness for her lack of communication. Her apprehension comes from the disappointment she’s sure you’re feeling, and a familiar sense of failure washes over her at the thought of letting you down again.

Your pouty face appears on the screen and Himeko can’t even force a shaky smile. 

“I’m so sorry,” the words are quick to tumble from her lips like they’ve been uncomfortably sitting in the back of her throat for days. “I should’ve called. The Express needed some last-minute repairs and I’m the only one— I’m sorry.” 

It’s the truth, but her voice is small to her ears because it sounds like she’s making excuses when she has none. She should have taken a few minutes to explain the situation to you instead of leaving you hanging for hours after assuring you that she’d be there this weekend. Getting lost in her work is easy and happens more often than not but she has a foreboding feeling that she truly messed up this time around, something curls around her throat and squeezes, forcing unsteady breaths out of her. 

“It’s… It’s fine, Hime. Is everything okay?”

Your easy understanding is not a facade and it worsens her guilt, she could swim in it and not touch the bottom. She sees the hurt you try to push away for her sake, it’s in the depths of your eyes and the slight curve of your mouth. A recurring thought lingers in her mind; she doesn’t deserve you. 

Himeko nods once, futilely swallowing to loosen her throat. “Everything’s alright, I had to sort out some complications with the suspension components and the HVAC systems. I didn’t forget about you, I just… got caught up in other things. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s a bit of a bummer, I made your favorite,” you sigh playfully, hoping to lighten the mood, “I’ll just have to eat it all.”

Your teasing has the opposite effect. Her heart drops knowing you must have been cooking for a couple hours in anticipation of her visit. The scroll of missed opportunities she keeps locked in a corner of her mind grows longer and the longing in her chest expands to her fingertips. 

“You… made my favorite dish? I didn’t deserve that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I wanted to surprise you.”

Himeko rubs at her eye with a weary sigh in an attempt to partially conceal her mournful expression before she has the chance to shift it into something less melancholic. A taunting voice, her voice, whispers in her ear that your efforts are wasted on her, that they’ll forever be wasted on her because she can never be away from the Express for too long. You’re at home, staring at the heavens, waiting for her to land and she breathes easier among the stars. You deserve to live your life without your head constantly in the clouds. She’s holding you back, the voice rings inside her head like multiple murmurs on top of each other, she’s stringing you along despite the weight of circumstance dragging you both down. 

“Hey,” you say softly, noticing the far-away look in her eyes and the quiver in her brow. “We can set up another time to meet. When are you free?”

She wishes she had a definite answer. Pom-Pom is currently reworking their timetable to ensure the Astral Express doesn’t run out of fuel and in the meantime, there’s no guarantee that she’ll be able to see you. Still, she can’t bring herself to tell you the harsh news so she softens the blow to give you some hope.

“I’m not sure… Hopefully next weekend?”

You try hard to keep your face from falling, she can tell, your expressiveness is one of the things she adores most about you. Tonight, it only hurts.

“I’m out of town, it’s my parents’ anniversary, remember?”

“Right.”

The following pause in the conversation is tense with the unsaid, what you both know to be true yet refuse to vocalize; it’s getting harder to make time for each other due to the drastically different, busy lives you’re living. The voice in her head gets louder. It turns into an insistent ruckus fiercely protective of you meant to preserve your wellness even at the cost of her heartbreak. You deserve someone who will take the time to celebrate your accomplishments, who will share the most intimate part of your life with you, and she… Himeko can’t simultaneously be that person and a Nameless. She wants to be there, her body yearns for your proximity to confess all the things she can’t find the words for, but she would have to sacrifice a piece of her identity for that consistency, something she can’t bring herself to do. Her love for you shouldn’t hurt this much. It’s unfair, how her affection is the source of your pain. How much longer can she lie to herself and pretend that having you this way is better than not having you at all? How much longer can she stand the defeat in your eyes?

“...I miss you.” It’s a pitiful sound, helpless and small. She wills herself to be strong against the sad smile you respond with.

“I miss you too. But we’re both where we want to be, right? You get to blaze a trail every day and I make a difference here.” You speak the truth, and yet it doesn’t soothe the tightness of her throat. 

“It doesn’t make it easier, does it?”

“...No. It doesn’t.”

Himeko knows what she has to do. Your smile falters, the following silence weighs on her bones, and she comes to a conclusion long overdue. A quiver runs through her fingers and she has to keep them out of the frame so you can’t see her growing distress. She takes a slow breath, blinks her unshed tears away and forces the words out of her mouth.

“What if… What if we—”

“Don’t say that,’ you interrupt her readily, firmly, furrowed brows worsening her guilt. 

“Why not?”

“Because you can’t take it back.”

She knows that, too. Even so, it was always going to end like this. Himeko feels like she’s falling apart, flayed layer by layer until she sits painstakingly raw in front of you. A screen and millions of miles separate you from her, burning her desires to hold you tight and bask in your comfort to ashes. She is reduced to heartbreak and guilt and yearning, she is an amalgamation of emotions impossible to contain in a human body; her hands shake, her next exhale is wobbly but she can’t bear to look away from you and your sorrow. It’s her fault, it was her pursuit of you that doomed you to where you are now. She was so intrigued by your determination and selflessness, your aching need to create a better life for you and everyone around you despite the corruption of the Stellaron plaguing your planet. Your attention was intoxicating and gave her the same feeling as watching the stars breeze past from one of the Express’ panoramic windows. It hurts now, but she could never regret knowing you. 

“What if it’s the right thing to do?” Himeko asks weakly. Her eyes flicker all over your face as if etching the image of you into her mind. 

“How can this feel right?”

“...Because I love you.”

She loves you and she can’t withstand being the cause of your pain. She can’t string you along knowing she can never give you the companionship you’re worthy of. She can’t keep holding you back from fully enjoying the life you’ve built for yourself. What she can do is spare you months of disappointment. 

You swallow thickly. “And ending things will make it better?”

“I don’t know, but it’s better than… than this.”

She’s not expressing herself properly, her emotions cloud her mind and she finds it difficult to choose the right words to convince you that this is the best decision for both of you. 

“How?”

“Because it’ll hurt less.”

Her eyes shut briefly at your stunned silence and her head tilts away from the screen so you can't see how much this is affecting her.  

“It’ll hurt less than being with me, you mean.” 

It’s not a question, so she doesn’t reply. She wants to say she’s doing this for you, to save you the agony of waiting around for her, but she doesn’t trust her voice to stay steady. Her fingers grip the edge of her desk to keep her grounded. She hears a shuddering breath coming from the other line. 

“Are you breaking up with me, Himeko?” 

Your words announce the point of no return. If she doesn’t do this now, she’ll never find the strength to bring it up again. 

She looks at you, and her reply comes out a choked whisper, “Yes.”

The train’s engine is loud in her ears to fill in the quiet between you. You nod absentmindedly, slowly, as you compute her answer. Your eyes don’t settle on the device in your hand, avoiding her mournful gaze, and the camera shakes a little when you straighten up on the couch. The air is heavy around her, it seems to weigh on her like gravity, and her pulse drums in her head like a haunting tune. Your lips purse to control the quiver in them. 

“...I’m sorry,” she says uselessly.

“I have to… I have to wake up early tomorrow,” you don’t want to look at her a moment more and despite how much that hurts, she can’t find it in herself to blame you. She can’t stand herself either. “Um… Goodnight.”

The call ends before she has a chance to speak. Himeko is left staring at the dark screen, tears blurring her vision at the edges, and without the need to appear fine in front of you, she crumbles. A quiet, choked sound escapes her and she slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle the pitiful sobs that start racking through her body. She spends a lifetime hunched over her desk, forehead resting on its cold surface, crying over the loss of you. Memories of moments shared with you— your sunny smiles and melodious laughter, your sleepy voice over the phone, her adoring palms on your full cheeks— every wishful happy ending that she wanted for you torments her mind. She’s drowning in an ocean of her own making. Regret accompanies her guilt and self-loathing, and she starts telling herself that perhaps she should have fought harder to keep you. She should have sacrificed more, she should have stopped herself from uttering words she can’t erase, she should have… 

A week passes so slowly that it feels like she’s been in this state for a decade. The Astral Express crew have all noticed the changes in Himeko’s mood, her prolonged quiet and red-rimmed eyes, but they’re used to her comfort and don’t know how to ease her mind. They try, clumsily, and she appreciates their efforts even if they amount to nothing. She would turn to you for these sorts of things, now she has no one to tell about how she lost you. Her thoughts circle back to you, she wonders what you’re doing when she wakes up, if you’re mourning her like she is you, if your softness has been replaced by hatred or worse— indifference. She goes through the motions because she has to, as the navigator of the Express she can’t afford a week of feeling sorry for herself when so many things require maintenance regularly. All of it is second nature. Her mind wanders to the tremble of your lips while she goes through her checklist. She blinks tears away as she discusses the conductor’s timetable with them. At night, she stares at her phone and fights the urge to press the call button under your contact name. 

Himeko finds herself in the Express parlor on a night she should have gone to bed early. The universe beyond its big windows no longer offers the same comfort it used to and she sits on one of the large couches, huddled in on herself. A half-empty bottle of wine stands on the floor next to her frame. The warmth in her chest and the fog of mind dull her heartbreak to a tolerable ache, tears are drying on her flushed cheeks and her sniffles are fewer than a half hour earlier. The bright phone screen light hurts her tired eyes but she can’t look away from the last video you sent her of you showing your look before leaving the house for that event you once mentioned to her. In her state, she can’t remember the details. Her stare is on the little twirl you make, the white smile you direct at the camera and the movement of your lips as you ramble about your hopes for the night. The clip plays over and over, it has been in a loop since she started drinking. The train car is quiet, there’s only your excitement livening up the place. She stops hearing most of your words at one point, lost in your features and the way you address her so affectionately. 

The desire to call you simmers inside of her like the alcohol she ingested and makes her fingertips twitch. You’re speaking to her in the video, but it’s not enough. It’s not truly you, just a captured moment of a time she hadn’t broken your heart. She wants to hear the real you, to ease the worry that you hate her now even if she can’t fault you for it. Her muddled mind replays the same thought like an annoying chorus and she sluggishly picks up the bottle on the ground to bring it to her lips. All she feels is a little warmer and a little more numb. She wants you. She wants your arms around her, your murmurs close to her ear. The last time she’s held you dates to around two months ago, maybe, she can’t be sure. Her thoughts are a blur. 

Himeko stares unblinkingly at her screen and doesn’t register that her thumb has navigated to your contact and pressed the call button until the line rings. She puts the phone to her ear with apprehension, heart thundering, and holds her breath. The call goes to voicemail. The defeat that crashes over her almost nullifies the effect of the wine, she sucks her lip into her mouth before calling again. And again, and again, and each time she’s met with the same automated message of you asking to leave a voicemail. Her throat tightens. She feels fresh tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She knows she has no right to expect an answer from you after what she’s done but her distress grows with every call she makes. She just wants to hear you, that loving undertone in your voice when you’re speaking to her like she’s special and cherished. She doesn’t count the number of times she’s pressed the redial button and she doesn’t stop to think off how pathetic she must seem, desperate to hear from someone who wants nothing to do with her. 

The call connects when she least expects it. 

“Himeko?” Your groggy voice answers the phone, leaving her quiet. “Is something wrong?”

Part of her can’t believe you picked up, the other cringes as it realizes that you were asleep. She doesn’t move the phone away from her ear to check the time, she’s frozen in place with her fingers clutching the device. Her mouth opens and closes while she figures out what to say, and the longer she takes the more awkward the silence becomes. Her reply comes out slightly garbled, like she’s biting back her tears, and at first all she manages is your name.

“You… Y-You picked up,” she finally says, swallowing hard to keep her voice from breaking.

“Is something wrong?”

Her eyes squeeze shut. She’s so relieved to hear you again, but the fatigue lacing your words breeds a familiar sense of guilt that washes over her in an instant. She’s woken you up with her insistent calls and your first thought is to worry about her. On one hand, it means you must not despise her as much as her mind has made it seem like. On the other, she’s ripped you from needed sleep and she doesn’t even know what to tell you. She’s wasting your time and if you still felt anything for her prior to now, you surely won’t after that. 

Himeko wills her pulse to slow down enough for her to focus. The wine went to her head thirty minutes ago, and it’s making her hazy. She lets out a shaky exhale, taking a moment to steady her breathing before she answers quietly.

“I miss you.”

“...You called for that?”

She can’t help but flinch at how tired you sound, a hint of annoyance in your tone. She deserves it, she tells herself. It’s the middle of the night and she’s calling you to whine about how she misses you, however true that may be, it’s ridiculous and unfair. Her fingers grip the device tighter, her bottom lips trembles, and she tries to think of a response that won’t irritate you further. 

“No. I mean, yes? I just… I missed you.” She gets progressively quieter as she speaks, eyes shut tight in apprehension. The alcohol slurs her reply slightly and slows her delivery. 

“You don’t get to do this, to call me eight times in the middle of the night after you ended things just to say that you miss me.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have called you…” Regret fills her lungs and tightens her throat. She wraps an arm around her knees and curls in further into herself. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Are you drunk?”

Himeko pauses longer than a sober person would. “Yes…” She says shamefully. “I’m sorry.”

“Drink some water and go to bed.”

It feels like you’re shutting her out, refusing to speak to her when all she wanted was to hear your voice. Her heart sinks and she tightens her hold around her knees. She barely manages a response after a bit of hesitation. 

“Okay. I will… I just— missed you and it was stupid to think…” She can’t string a coherent sentence together, her thoughts are jumbled because of how little she’s been sleeping lately and the alcohol she’s been sipping on for the past hour. She also has no idea what to say. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth and betrays her by spilling unfiltered sentiments. “I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s making me miserable.”

She’s only ever felt this bad after talking to you when she broke up with you over the phone. It’s obvious you don’t want to hear her drunken blabbering  and she feels like a fool, holding back tears as she listens to you breathe on the oher end of the line. She just needs something from you, anything that might provide her some comfort even though she knows she doesn’t deserve it. 

“Do you want to hurt me?”

“Huh?” It takes a minute to understand you. She bites back a sniffle, almost certain you’re about to end the call. You would have every reason to. In a moment of drunken confusion, Himeko forgets herself and blurts out,  “N-No, of course not, I wouldn’t… I love you.” She’s forgotten she can’t say that anymore, and Himeko is left breathless and horrified at the realization. 

The line is silent. She can’t hear your breaths from how loud her heart beats in her ears. Her body tenses, the grip on her phone turns white-knuckled and she doesn’t dare speak another word until you do. 

“...You’re the one who broke up with me. Now you miss me? You love me? Seriously?”

“I do miss you. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing, that it would be better for both of us because you get so sad and it breaks my heart to know that I’m to blame.”

“You don’t get to decide what's good for me. Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling? It sounds like you did it for you, not for me.”

“No, I…”

“Get some sleep. Goodnight, Himeko.”

Himeko’s body jolts upon hearing your reply, her eyes snap open and she sits up a bit on the couch. There’s more she wants to say to you, but you hung up the phone before she could even call out. She wants to say that it’s not true, she did have your wellness in mind when making that decision. She’s left sitting there, the quiet around her almost deafening. She stares into space as she slowly lowers the phone from her ear. 

After a few more minutes of sitting in her sorrow, Himeko finally heaves a sigh of defeat. She can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much. She sets the phone down on the couch, the urge to throw it across the room almost unbearable. She can still hear your words ringing in her ears as she buries her head in her hands, her fingers digging into her hair, and she desperately tries to hold her emotions from spilling out of her in undignified, strangled noises. Her throat feels like it wants to close in on itself while her chest heaves with the effort it takes not to break down in the middle of the parlor. She needs you. She feels so empty without you, and it’s her fault. She thought she was sparing you unnecessary pain and that you would eventually be better off without someone like her, who you can’t see or talk to consistently. She believed that being apart from you would hurt less than having to sit behind a screen and watch you for hours, longing eroding her bones. She was wrong, and the longer Himeko sits there, the more she’s convinced of it. The arguments she’s made up in her mind to justify her decision feel meaningless. She can only feel the weight of your absence as warm tears stream down her cheeks.

The next day, Himeko reminds herself of the path she follows. The spirit of the Trailblaze lies within her, she’s a Nameless and that means she fights to the end no matter the outcome. Three days after that, there’s a knock on your door.

You’re staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom one evening, letting the comforting patter of the rain against your window panes soothe the melancholy of your heart. The breeze is also welcome, you almost doze off against the pillows, eyelids heavy, when a firm fist knocks on your front door. You hear it through the rain, and a frown tugs at your lips. You’re not expecting anyone in this weather and frankly, you’d rather be alone. You consider ignoring it, hoping whoever is vying for your attention gets discouraged and leaves. After a minute, three strong knocks sound from behind the door again. You leave your bed with an irritated sigh. You stride towards the entrance of your apartment, unlock the door and sharply twist the handle to reveal your visitor. 

Himeko’s soaked figure stands on the porch. The rain darkens her long hair and seeps into her thin clothes, strands of red sticks to her forehead and her coat uselessly hangs around her shoulders, drenched like the rest of her. Water streams down her face but her eyes are clear as they look up at you, wide with nerves and determination. Her body trembles with a cold shiver. Her lips part in fleeting surprise like she wasn’t expecting you to answer the door. She’s been rehearsing what to say to you in her head on her way to your place, making sure she would leave having said everything she meant to tell you. However, now that she’s standing in front of you in the flesh after so long, the words melt on her tongue and all Himeko can do is utter a single word.

“Hi.”

“Himeko…?” You blink at the sight of her like she’s an apparition meant to mock you. “What are you…”

“Before you say anything, please, let me start,” she swallows once and stands a little straighter, head high. Confessions that have been sitting on her chest for what feels like an eternity come tumbling out of her lips. “I was a coward. I gave up on us when times were toughest and let my insecurities make up reasons for it to justify the fact that I was scared. I was scared you would realize that I don’t deserve you and that you’re better off with a woman who can actually be present in your life. I still believe you’re worthy of that but it was wrong to end our relationship over the phone with no proper discussion, and it was worse to call you afterwards while I’d been drinking. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t want to be without you, no matter what form our relationship takes. I feel you under my skin like the muscles that make my heart beat. Knowing you is part of what makes me happy, it’s as much a part of me as the Trailblaze, and without you, I’m incomplete. Whether that means anything to you now, I… I love you. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to take me back, but I needed you to hear it.”

You stare at her in disbelief. She has to blink the water out of her eyes as she speaks but her voice never wavers, her conviction shines through the pouring rain and sends your pulse into a frenzy. Himeko’s bare shoulders shake with the cold and she gazes at you with a heaving chest while her words settle in the air. At this distance, her fingertips ache to reach out for your touch. She stands in front of you, and she suddenly forgets how you feel under her palms; the texture of your hair between her fingers, the curve of your back, the plane of your stomach. She longs to experience it all. 

It feels like a lifetime before your body decides to obey your mind again. Your heart swells, your lungs fill with air, and you do the only sensible thing you can do. Stepping into the downpour, your palms cup her frozen, rosy cheeks and pull her close. Your lips press into hers with a desperation you didn’t know you were capable of, melding with the softness of her mouth in a passionate kiss. You immediately feel her cold arms around your waist and her wet lips reciprocate your affection. Himeko holds you flush against her as she kisses you with equal emotion, gripping your clothes like she can’t bear the thought of being apart a moment longer. Under the heavy rainfall, you’re as drenched as she is in half a minute. Her breath mingles with yours, your senses become attuned only to her loving mouth and soaked chest pressed to your own. You don’t feel the cold. The water turns your kisses slippery, your lips slide together like you’ve been kissing her your entire life, and Himeko makes a breathy sound into your mouth. In the next instant, her hands are wandering up your back and down your sides, pulling you impossibly close to her body until you’re two pieces of a whole that will never be broken. Her touch spills confessions she will repeat over and over.

Your pace slows to gentle kisses on each other’s lips, foreheads resting together as you catch your breath. Your clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin and a shiver runs through you from the temperature, but your chest warms at the way Himeko’s nose nuzzles against yours. 

“You’ve always been worth the distance, Hime. How could you not be?”

“I’ll find a way to be with you more often. I promise.”

She seals that promise with a revering kiss wet with the heavens’ tears.

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 11/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: you find yourself tormented, questioning every moment of the last six months with him, while desperately trying to drift your thoughts away from him. word count. 2.5k cw. marriage pact au, mature content, angst (emotional turmoil) a/n. we're nearing the end of the story guys! there'll be like two chapters left! thank u for enjoying the story so far<3

Masterlist

You consider leaving the gym quietly without Kiyoomi noticing, but then you remember that you've sent him texts. Fuck. You don't feel like you're in the right headspace to meet him right now. Feeling your emotions are still all over the place. You think you can abandon your feelings, numb them somehow, but not right now. Can you unsend the texts?

You still stand in the back rows of the bleachers, in fight-or-flight mode, considering all the options you have. Suddenly, your phone vibrates. Shit. You pull it out to see that it's Kiyoomi calling you. You excuse yourself from Fumi, hearing her say sorry while you just wave your hand, mumbling "it’s okay" to her, then you answer Kiyoomi.

"Hey, are you in the gym? Just saw your texts," he says.

You bite your lip, trying to control your overwhelming emotions upon hearing his voice. "Yeah, I'm in the gym."

"I didn’t expect you to come here. I was about to have dinner outside."

Is it with that woman? 

Feeling your emotions intensifies with your own thoughts. You know Kiyoomi is unaware of this, but it still stings.

"I'm sorry, I was just bored in the house and made too much food."

You hear Kiyoomi hum. You really want to slap yourself. You shouldn’t have come here. This was such a stupid initiative.

"Want to head home? I’m done practicing, actually. I’ll just eat the food you brought at home."

"Okay."

"Where are you?"

"I'm taking a seat on the bleachers, in the back."

"Oh, okay. Meet me at the carpark? You see the car, right?"

"Yeah."

You walk to the car while trying to control your breath and think straight. When you arrive at the carpark, you see that Kiyoomi is already there, leaning on the car door.

"Hey, let’s go home," he says, unlocking the car. You nod and get in.

On the way home, Kiyoomi asks about the food you brought. You respond, not realizing your answers are too curt and your tone colder than usual. He frowns and takes a double look, "Is there something wrong?" You bite your lip, mentally cursing him for how he's getting better at reading you.

"Nothing," you reply.

"Weren’t you with Fumi earlier?" he asks.

You hum in response.

He looks at you, concern in his eyes, and asks tentatively, "Is she giving you a hard time?"

"No! Of course not."

"Then why?" he asks.

Finally you decide to bring up what you saw earlier. "It’s just that… Fumi saw me seeing you with that woman—"

"What woman?" Kiyoomi interrupts.

"I don’t know her name. The one from the social media team?"

"Hiyori?" he asks, and you really don't want to know or hear her name. How many more could there be? You sigh, frustration boiling over.

"I really don’t know, Omi," you say, feeling your voice start to crack. "She sat next to you on the bench."

His frown deepens. "Are you being jealous?" he asks.

"No! I mean, it’s alright! It’s just that Fumi pointed out about you both," you're just babbling at this point, feeling increasingly defensive. "I’m just worried if other people notice it, too, okay? It’ll just look bad on us."

Both of you fall silent for a moment. Your heart feels heavy as you say the next words, "I’m just glad we’re always doing it safe." That earns you a glare from him. His expression is unreadable. After a brief pause, he sighs and grips the steering wheel tighter.

"Right," he says. "We can see other people, right?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. He’s right, but you didn't expect him to throw that fact in your face right now. It feels like a punishment for wanting more of him. You bite your lip, not having the courage to speak. You’re sure if you say a single word, you'll break into tears.

The rest of the ride is quiet, the air tense. As soon as he pulls up, you get out of the car and go straight to your room. You try to calm your breath, but you can’t hold back the tears that start streaming down your face as soon as you close the door. Hundreds of thoughts flood your mind. How could something beautiful turn ugly like this?

If you want to point fingers at who's wrong in this, it's definitely you. You knew better than to feel this way towards him. Now, you're ruining something delicate you had with him just because you decided to have feelings. 

Is it better if you weren’t married to him in the first place?

You might still be good friends with him until at least you’re 40 or something, until he forgot you. But now?

There’s only one solution for you right now: avoid him at all costs. You’re still too emotional. The next step is to numb your feelings. That’s easy, right?

In the morning, you wake up earlier than usual, hoping to avoid bumping into Kiyoomi. Knowing his routine, you're confident you can leave the apartment without seeing him. Thankfully, he did stick to his schedule, allowing you to slip out unnoticed.

You stop by the coffee shop near your office to buy coffee and a pastry for breakfast. Suddenly, you remember that you didn’t make him breakfast this morning. It’s not like you feel you owe him or something, not a guilty feeling either. You’re just dwelling on the fact that he will see that there’s no food for him on the table, which maybe he didn’t expect. Then, he will have to— stop. Why does your mind still drift to him somehow? First step you need to do is to not think about him. 

But throughout the day at the office, your mind keeps pulling you back to the memories of the last few days. Sitting at your desk, you reflect on the past six months of your marriage, replaying every moment.

Wait. Tami is coming into town. Shit. You feel terrible about potentially dumping all your problems on her. The plan was to have fun, but now... well, shit happens, and you created this mess yourself.

When it’s finally time to go home, you pack your things quickly. You had a phone call with Tami and suggested a night out at a club. She was surprised, but you insisted you needed to let loose after a tough day at work. The truth is, you don't want to burden her with your problems right now. In a quieter setting, she would see right through you and probe for details. You know she expected a more relaxed evening to catch up. You'll tell her everything eventually, just not now. Definitely not now. 

The reason why you get home as quickly as possible is that, of course, you want to avoid Kiyoomi. You know he always comes back later than you. That’s why you want to get home to get ready for a night out with Tami and leave before he arrives home.

As soon as you arrive at the hotel where Tami stays, Tami greets you warmly in the lobby and invites you up to her room so she can get ready. The moment you close the door behind you, she exclaims, "It’s been so long!! I miss you!" She runs over and hugs you tightly.

"I miss you so much, too!" you reply, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm.

She pulls back and studies your face. "Damn! You really do look tired! Work’s that bad, huh?"

You gulp, feeling the tension build. She reads you too well. "Ooh!" you blow air from your mouth, trying to lighten the mood. "It’s so bad! I was given a much more complicated task than before." You pull a distasteful face, hoping it sells the story. Thankfully, she seems to believe you.

You quickly switch the topic to her, "Anyway, how's everything with you and your husband? Are you still juggling those insane work hours?"

"Oh, you wouldn’t believe it! He’s been so busy with his projects, and I’ve had back-to-back meetings. Sometimes, we barely see each other!"

You nod, genuinely interested. "That sounds intense. How do you manage to keep up with everything?"

Tami laughs, "Barely! We’ve been trying to carve out time for each other, but it’s a struggle.”

She dives into her stories enthusiastically, and you find yourself getting lost in her words, grateful for the distraction.

Before heading to the club, you decide to call room service for dinner. While waiting, you help Tami get ready, doing her makeup and picking out an outfit. She looks stunning when you're done.

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Tami asks, checking herself in the mirror.

"You look amazing! Trust me, everyone's going to be jealous," you assure her, doing some touch-ups on your own makeup. She scoffs incredulously at you.

Once you're both ready, you get into Tami's car and drive to the club. "It’s been so long since we last went out. Remember our wild nights back in college?" she reminisces.

"How could I forget? Those were some of the best times," you laugh, feeling a sense of nostalgia.

As you arrive at the club, the excitement builds. IIt’s been so long since you went there. Probably last year? Or two years ago? You can’t really remember.

The pulsating beat of the music fills the air as you step into the vibrant club, a popular spot for night owls. The colorful lights dance around the room, casting an electric glow on everything they touch. Everyone is dressed to impress, and you're glad you’ve chosen an outfit that compliments you. 

“Let’s sit there first!” Tami points at a corner of the club, a quieter place than where you stand now. You nod and she grabs your hand to walk there. You order your first round of drinks—something light to start with—and settle into a cozy booth. 

“This place is lit!” Tami exclaims happily.

You agree with her, “Right? Let’s just have fun.” 

Tami nods at you. “Wait! I forgot. Isn’t Kiyoomi’s match tomorrow?”

You're silent for a second. To be honest, you're not planning to not go to his match. But your heart still feels heavy at the thought of seeing him so soon. You can't decide now. “Yeah. I’ll make sure to wake up right on time.” You offer her your best smile.

She frowns a bit at your dismissive answer. “Well… I haven’t heard anything about you both! Is there anything interesting happening?” she wiggles her eyebrows, her tone teasing.

Shit. You laugh at her question, “Well, you know? Just me and my friend living together. Nothing much, really. It’s just like living with your roommate.” You wave your hand dismissively. “We have separate lives, you know?” you say with a nervous laugh.

She smiles, “But, like—” she is interrupted as your drinks arrive. “Thank you,” you say to the waiter. You quickly take your drink and gulp it down.

Tami stares at you. “Whoa whoa. Wait. What was I gonna say?”

You shrug at her question, pointing at her drink. “Your drink looks good. What is it?” you ask, trying to distract her.

She looks at her drink and takes a sip. “It’s just my usual!” she says cheerily.

Phew. She's distracted. “Let’s finish the drinks and we’ll go to the dance floor!” You gulp more of your drink and finish it. At this point, Tami already notices something is off with you, but she knows you don’t want to tell her. Most likely it relates to Kiyoomi. Your answer is way too off.

As you and Tami get up, you order more drinks from the bar. It’s time to just let loose. As more drinks enter your system, the alcohol quickly starts to lift your spirits even higher. You grab Tami and walk to the dance floor.

On the dance floor, the lights flash and bodies move rhythmically to the music. You join in, losing yourselves in the rhythm, your worries melting away with each beat. You keep ordering more drinks, each one bringing you closer to that carefree state you crave. Tami asks you a few times whether you’re okay or if you want to go home. But you dismiss her, just nodding to any of her questions.

As you dance, you notice a few guys across the room. 'We can see other people anyway, right?' Kiyoomi's words ring in your head. It fucking stings. You can just do that too, right? Be with anyone you want. You’re not bound by anything. Nothing.

Wait. No. That’s just too fucking impulsive. Luckily, you still have a bit of your awareness left. You shake off the thought, focusing on the music and the moment. 

After a few more drinks, your movements become less coordinated, and everything seems a bit blurry. You find it harder to stay upright, the room spinning faster with each passing moment. You nearly black out, your vision narrowing and your balance completely gone. Tami quickly notices and guides you to a quieter area to sit down.

“Let’s go home!” Tami says urgently. “Do you want me to drive you to your home?”

You shake your head aggressively, “No! No, please. Let me stay in your room.”

Tami nods understandingly and helps you navigate out of the club to her car. You stagger slightly, leaning on Tami for support as the cool night air hits your face.

As the car starts moving, the combination of motion and the alcohol in your system makes you feel incredibly drowsy. The streetlights blur together as you drive, and you struggle to keep your eyes open. Your head feels heavy, and your thoughts become fragmented. One moment you’re aware of Tami talking next to you, the next moment everything seems to fade into darkness. You try to focus, but it's like grasping at shadows. The hum of the engine and the gentle rocking of the car lull you into a state where reality and dreams start to mix.

By the time you reach the hotel, you're barely conscious. Tami helps you out of the car, assisted by one of the hotel staff. The hotel lobby is a blur of lights and sounds, and the next thing you know, you're being gently laid down on the bed. The soft sheets feel like heaven against your skin, and you sink into them, finally allowing the blackout to take over completely.

Tami sits beside you, stroking your hair gently. "You’re going to be okay," she whispers, though her voice sounds distant. You try to muster a response, but all that comes out is a faint murmur.

The events of the night swirl in your mind like a distant storm. You think about Kiyoomi, the tension between you, and the nagging uncertainty of your relationship. The alcohol magnifies your emotions, making everything feel more intense and overwhelming.

Tami’s voice breaks through the haze. “Hey, get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” She pulls a blanket over you, and the warmth is comforting. You nod weakly, feeling the weight of the night pressing down on you.

As you drift off, you can’t help but replay the moments with Kiyoomi in your mind. The way he looked at you, the unspoken words hanging in the air, and the fear that maybe things will never be the same. But for now, you let the exhaustion take over, surrendering to the darkness and hoping that tomorrow will bring some clarity.

Taglist: @wolffmaiden , @fiannee , @nightlydream , @choizzn , @peachyaeger @crxm-dollx , @marisabel14 , @yunskook, @reimiiko

[nextikeu]

good for you —  박성훈                                                               wc:0.7k

summary. why do you always have to put your emotions in everything?

pairing. fwb!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings. toxic relationship, cursing, crying, suggestive content, mentions of sex, mentions of jay and karina, arguments.

note. i do have to admit i got bored while writting, so forgive me if the end is bad

───────────────────────────────

with your eyelids closing harshly and body trembling, you turn with your back at the man that was now dressing up. his hair was disheveled and his neck was covered in purple bruises, making you wince and regret your desperate state. even so, you still had to tell him. it’s not like he cares or something, as your relationship is only strict sex, ‘no hard feelings’ as he said numerous times. 

you were almost bare in front of him, the thin material of your nightgown covering your pale body and you brought your knees to your chest, shifting in your place to the edge of the bed. when he hears the shuffling he turns his body while walking up to you, your face leveled to his abdomen. eyes swelled up with tears you look up at him, your bottom lip quivering and you notice the way his expression changed. 

“i’m sorry”

that’s enough for him to hear and his arms come up to envelop you in a hug, your shaky breath fanning on his neck, making his groan. he patted your head, whispering sweet words to your ear, trying to comfort you. but in reality, he had no idea why you were crying, he was just glad you weren’t alone in this state. your hands fisted the material of his gray t-shirt, the one you used to wear all the times.

“i had sex with jay” — you whisper from his neck, burying your face even deeper when you feel his body stiffen and his hands slowly coming off your shoulders. you looked up at him with teary eyes, and he swears that if he wasn’t that angry he would’ve fucked you right there. but, instead of throwing a tantrum he just pushed your head back on his shoulder, patting your head again. 

“don’t worry, i slept with karina” . ouch. you don’t even know why you are so hurt, since this whole thing wasn’t even real to him. of course, you two allowed each other to sleep with other people as long as it was protected, but you never imagined yourself getting so mad over it. your hands push at his chest, facing him now with that hurt and devastated expression on your face, making him scoff in response. once you walked away from him, he followed you in the living room, his eyes never leaving your angry figure. 

“oh so you can have sex with jay but i can’t with karina?” , his voice came out loud, and you’re sure your neighbors will ask you who was yelling at almost ten pm about sex. 

“can you speak louder i don’t think karina heard you”, walking past him, you pour yourself a glass of water, sipping on it just enough to make his blood boil. he walks to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, squeezing them lightly. he was too close, you think to yourself, his cologne invading your nostrils, and you close your eyes for a second, trying to escape his grip.

“why are you so fucking jealous?” , he genuinely asks, pushing your body until your back meets the cold surface of the fridge door in your kitchen. when you don’t answer he starts to place soft kisses on your jaw, his hands grabbing your waist, bringing you closer to him — if that was even possible.

“that’s not where you kiss, hoon” . once he heard your words, he moved further, placing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, occasionally biting, your right hand coming up to grab his hair, making him look at you. with eyes still red from crying you shake your head and push his arms off your waist grabbing his coat from the hanger and walking back to him.

“don’t tell me you're kicking me out” . throwing the clothing at him, you walk in front of him, softly smiling and he feels himself melting at your dimples. 

“yes, i’m jealous, so, don’t try anything with anyone other than me, okay?” , it felt more like a threat than a question but that doesn’t stop him from hugging you tight again.

“oh, you jealous baby” 

you’re too distracted to notice how his hands hook up under your tights, placing them around his waist as he kisses you for the nth time that night. and that’s how you ended up going for the fourth round, after all that’s what friends with benefits do? help each other.

───────────────────────────────

NEXTIKEU 2024. DO NOT COPY.

[rayswayzestuff]

Bonnie & Clyde - Johnny Cade

synopsis - johnny finally breaks down y/n's walls

warnings - mentions of suicide, talk about criminals, mention of abuse, not much😙

pairing - johnny cade x best friend!gn!reader

authors note - my first fic posted on any platform, don't judge me xoxo (jk, if I need to improve, give me some tips!! x) not edited cuz it's 4am..

❀❀❀

Both y/n and Johnny faced problems at home… these problems leaving them with a bond so odd that not even they could understand it

Johnny was emotionally and physically abused by his parents, and y/n had their unsaid problems just the same..

often, when nights got bad. The pair would spend the night in the lot together..

it was silent, other than the crackling of the firewood, and the subtle breeze picking up.

they sat close to each other, for body heat. Johnny sighed before speaking.. “I can’t take this anymore.”

y/n looks up at him, a slight look of curiosity in their eyes, "Is it getting worse..?" they ask.

“I-It’s like everything’s falling apart.” Johnny’s voice was shaky, and cracked in many places.

“M-My p-parents, t-they just..keep getting worse by the day.”

“It’s like..I’m n-nobody to them..” Johnny let out a deep sigh, and then took a long drag of his cigarette.

y/n shifts in their spot, turning their gaze back to the fire for a minute until looking back at him, "We've got each other at least.. That's what matters most right?"

“Y-You think?” Johnny smiled faintly at y/n. He exhaled a gust of smoke into the air, before leaning back on the wall. Johnny looked down at the ground, and took another long, deep drag from one of his cigarettes.

y/n didn't answer for a minute or two, just thinking of what to say next, "I like to think of us as Bonnie & Clyde, y'know..?" they pause, "all we've really got is each other, and that's all we need.."

“Bonnie and Clyde..?” Johnny repeated, then paused for a moment and thought of the criminal duo. He took yet another puff of his cigarette..

“I guess you’re right…all we really have is each other.”

Johnny shifted in place. The cool breeze seemed to be irritating him, causing him to shiver slightly. “Damn, it's really freezing out here.."

y/n gently rests their head on his shoulder, closing in their distance on one another.

Johnny could see his own breath, due to how cold it was outside… It didn't help that his clothes were thin and worn out. He appreciated the warmth of y/n's head on his shoulder.

Johnny sighed, and looked over at them..

“y/n…”

y/n murmured back, "Mmm..?" Their voice was soft and quiet.

Johnny went silent, and smiled softly at them. He was surprised by how comfortable this felt..he was actually able to relax, and be himself. His cigarette was down to the last few puffs..as Johnny watched it slowly burn.

“y/n…you know how much I appreciate you..right?”

"Y-Yeah..? I think so" they mumble back.

“You mean a lot to me.” Johnny continued, as he took a deep drag from the cigarette, exhaling thick plumes of smoke from his mouth.

“I feel like I got nobody, but you. It’s me and you against the world.” Johnny paused for a minute, and smiled softly.

“We have a bond…a connection that nobody else has. Nobody else understands..”

A small smirk appears on y/n's face, "just like Bonnie & Clyde, right..?" a small giggle leaving their lips.

“You know what?” Johnny chuckled quietly, and nodded his head. “Yeah…just like Bonnie and Clyde.”

His cigarette was burnt to a short stub, as Johnny tossed the little bit of the cigarette that was left to the ground.

“Now that.. makes me Clyde, right?” Johnny said, and looked at them with raised brows.

y/n murmurs under their breath, "mmhm.."

“So that means I get the ladies, right?” Johnny continued to joke around, and gave an innocent smile to y/n. They were both close in age, but Johnny certainly seemed older than y/n..in an emotional sense, at least..

"Mhm.. but Clyde chose Bonnie over anyone.." y/n speaks softly "..you'd do that for me too, right..?"

“Hey…” Johnny turned his head towards them more, and gently placed a hand on their cheek.

“I’d choose you over anything or anyone.” Johnny’s voice was quiet, but he seemed to mean every word.

“I wouldn’t trade you for the entire world..”

They both gave each other innocent smiles.

Johnny brushed a strand of messy hair away from their face, looking into their eyes with tender affection.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you..”

"Crash and burn..?" y/n quickly replies.

“Definitely crash and burn.” Johnny chuckled, a small smile spreading across his face.

“How about you though? How would you be without me..?”

y/n suddenly goes quiet, tension rising in the air as they seem a bit nervous to answer the question.

“y/n…” Johnny’s voice was tinged with concern, as he noticed the slight pause in their answer.

“Wouldn’t you crash and burn too..?”

"I've already crashed," their voice was hushed, "the burning is just slower than it should be.."

Johnny was silent for a moment, letting their words sink in. He took a slow, yet drawn out drag of his cigarette, his heart aching for them.

Johnny shifted, and rested his head against the wall, before looking back over at them.

“You alright?”

y/n subtly shakes their head.

“I wish I could make everything better for you..” Johnny sighed quietly, and took another drag of his cigarette.

Johnny’s eyes shifted to the darkness in the lot, as a chill shuddered through his body.

“It’s so damn cold….”

y/n's gaze was locked on the fire that was burning in front of them.

“y/n…” Johnny’s voice was quiet, and his demeanor changed to that of slight worry and concern as he noticed the silence from them. His brow was furrowed.

“Look over here for a sec..?” He softly asked.

y/n shakes their head again.

Johnny’s expression was concerned, almost frustrated. He reached over and gently tilted their head up towards him.

”What’s wrong..? Please..”

y/n's expression was weak as they held back tears of pain.

“Hey..” He brushed a tear that escaped their eye, and ran his fingertips alongside their face.

“Hey…c’mon..” Johnny was soft, and gentle with them.

“Don’t fight it…just let it out..”

They immediately begin to sob into Johnny's shoulder, never once having cried in front of him before.

Johnny immediately softened, his arms wrapping around them and holding them as close as he could. He had never seen y/n in such a vulnerable position before. They were so sweet and innocent…Johnny couldn't stand the thought of them hurting.

Johnny rubbed their back, as he spoke to them in a soothing tone.

"Shhh..it's okay..it's okay.."

Johnny had never even had a glimpse of them outside of their playful, flirty demeanor.. As he saw their walls fall down, he felt shocked.

Johnny had never realized how much pain they had been in, and the sight of their pain…made him hurt too.

Johnny gently squeezed them tight, and he sighed softly. His eyes were fixated on them, watching their tears fall..

Johnny wanted to protect them, and never let anybody else hurt them.

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

It took y/n about another ten minutes to finally calm down, they kept their head on Johnny's shoulder and stayed quiet.

Johnny didn’t mind it at all when they kept their head on his shoulder, actually enjoying the intimacy of the moment. There were moments where he wished this moment would last, and they could just sit here forever. He enjoyed being someone that y/n could let their guard down around, and feel comfortable around.

“You alright..? You done crying..?” Johnny softly asked. His voice was gentle, as he kept his arms around y/n.

Johnny smiles as he sees them nod, ”Are you gonna go back to being playful now..? Or you still gonna be a sad, crying ol’ crybaby?” Johnny teased with a smug grin.

y/n smiled weakly, laughing briefly at his behavior.

Johnny let out a soft chuckle, and smiled at them Even through their pain, they remained the same beautiful, playful y/n he knew and loved.

“Okay okay..now that’s more like it…” Johnny brushed their back again, and then gently took their hand into his.

“You good now? You feeling alright?”

y/n lets out a soft sniffle, followed by a small nod.

Johnny smiled at them, and squeezed their hand a few times in reassurance.

“Alright, that’s good to hear.”

Johnny sat in silence for a few moments, looking at their hand holding hands. “They're so beautiful…” he thought to himself. He wanted to keep staring, but quickly looked away.

“So. What made you cry anyway?” Johnny asked, hoping to change the subject away from how vulnerable they had been for a moment.

y/n hesitantly speaks up, "Johnny.. If you weren't here, I don't reckon I would be either.."

Johnny immediately froze, his heart shattering in his chest.

Did they mean what he thought they meant..? Were they saying that he was the only thing preventing them from taking their own life?

Johnny quickly squeezed their hand, and looked at them, his voice full of concern.

“What are you saying..?”

"I don't think I need to explain," y/n says.

Johnny went silent, thinking over what they just said for a few moments.

“So you’re saying..” Johnny hesitantly spoke, trying to ask them. “That you would take your own life..?”

y/n softly speaks, "I'm not trying to be a burden or anything.." they pause, "but yeah.."

Johnny’s voice was a combination of panic and concern.

“y/n…” He gently squeezed their hand, and spoke to them again. “You’re not a burden. In fact…you’re the opposite…”

“You mean everything to me…my life would be ruined if something ever happened to you.” Johnny paused for a moment,

“Do you know how much I love you..?”

"Yeah.." y/n weakly smiles, "I love you too, Johnny.."

Johnny smiled at them, as he squeezed their hand a few times.

“And you know..?” Johnny paused for another moment. “I’d choose you over anything.”

"Just like Bonnie & Clyde, right..?" y/n mutters.

"Yeah.. exactly like Bonnie & Clyde" He replied.

❀❀❀

[whore-4-drewstarkey]

Lips of An Angel- Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

summary: based on the song Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. (take a listen! i recommend it!!) Y/N drunkenly calls up her ex boyfriend drew, to confess her love she still has for him and all her regrets from their past relationship.

warnings: odessa…., alcohol consumption, emotional cheating (if you even call it that), angst, a tad of fluff if you squint, slight mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse (not from drew), lmk if i forgot anything bc i’m sure i did lol.

a/n: for starters…. i’ve been waiting to write this one and i was gonna do it for rafe first but it just felt more right to do drew lol. also please don’t come at me for the way i put odessa in this. (personal opinion: i don’t think they’re really a thing irl but whatever). for the sake of this fic i had to put her in it to work as she’s the only prominent female in his life besides his sisters so bare with me please. (personally not a fan of her for my own reasons and things i’ve read) hope you all enjoy this one!

revised and edited by the one and only @slut4drudy ilyyyyy

as drew had just put the last of the champagne glasses into the sink from his and odessa’s small get together with friends, he could hear his phone ringing that all too familiar ringtone… the ringtone he had set for only her. he thought to himself… how strange it’d be for her to call him at such an absurd hour after not talking to one another in two years.

him and Y/N had began to date their senior year of college at western carolina university, and just like every college couple, they eventually broke it off a few years later. it had been a mutual agreement when he got cast on netflix’s show, outer banks, as she didn’t want to hold him back any longer from achieving all the goals she knew he would. the two however kept in contact regularly until none at all just two years ago when she’d started dating her now boyfriend maverick. and from what Y/N seen drew had also moved on… to his costar odessa.

“hey, uh drew your phone is ringing. do you want me to get it?” odessa asked drew as he finished washing the champagne flutes, drying his hands hurriedly with the towel next to the sink.

“uh, nah, um i’ll go answer it. it might be my mom. you know her and not being able to sleep and missing her kids. i’m just gonna go in the reading room and take the call. i’ll be back out in twenty. sound good?” he asked warily.

“yeah yeah take your time. tell her i said hi for me” she smiled as his towering figure walked past her frame and into the living room, picking his phone up. his large thumb moved nimbly against his phones screen to answer the call from Y/N as he entered the reading room, plopping on the couch.

“h-honey, why you callin me so late? it’s kinda hard to talk right now” he stuttered out her pet name he hadn’t called her in years. all he received in return were her soft sobs from the other line. those little soft sobs shattered his heart. the last time he’d heard them was because of him. because he had spoke the idea of maybe they should break up. because he didn’t know if he could do the long distance relationship, and Y/N had just agreed. no hesitation because she wanted whatever would make him happy. and if that meant breaking up with her and breaking her heart, then so be it. she wanted what was best for him because she loved him.

“honey, why are you crying? is everything okay?” drew whispered out through the phone to his broken ex in an uneasy tone, as his jaw clenched. he hated the idea of her being sad. he always had.

“w-why are you whispering?” she sighed as more tears streamed down her face.

drew bit his lip, exhaling a huff of hot air he hadn’t known he was holding before speaking, “i gotta whisper because i can’t be too loud.”

“why? i-im sorry. i shouldn’t have called. this was so fucking stupid” Y/N slurred out into her end of the phone, catching drew’s attention.

“oh, well, my girls in the next room” he spoke as he paused to let her speak.

“like i-i said… this was st-stupid of me” she slurred out again before continuing, “you’re moved on. i get it”

“honey, Y/N, it’s not like that. i swear. s-shes not even my girlfriend” he tried to elaborate before she cut him off.

“then why’d you call her your girl?”she challenged.

“baby, you’re drunk. i can tell by the way you’re slurring your words. what’s wrong? why’d you call?” drew tried to deflect the question and ask the more important questions; why she’d called and why she’d been crying.

“answer my questions first please” she hiccuped through her phone and into his ear.

“we haven’t put a label on it. in all seriousness i don’t even know what i want. i don’t even think she knows what she wants. it’s more of a friends with benefits kind of deal” he sighed out as his left index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed once more, contemplating to speak what he’d been thinking for awhile now. “but honey, if i’m being serious, sometimes i wish she was you”

“i wish i was her too” Y/N whimpered out as she took a gulp of the vodka from the bottle she’d been coddling in her arms, sitting on the bathroom floor, hiding from maverick.

“i guess we never really moved on… did we?” he chuckled out, causing Y/N to smile at the sweet sound of his chuckle. it was bliss to her ears. she’d missed that sound so much in the last two years.

“now answer my question honey, what’s wrong? why’re you calling so later? isn’t it like after 1am there back home in charlotte. right?” he asked Y/N in a concerned tone, face scrunching up in worry as well, though she couldn’t see it.

“u-um. drew it doesn’t matter. forget i called you. okay?” Y/N tried to deflect his concerning questions he’d been shooting her way since the call had started.

“Y/N, honey. i’m not hanging up until you tell me what’s got you so bent out of shape that you’re drunk off your ass, drunk calling me at 1 am your time all while sobbing. i just won’t” he huffed out, losing his patience in the girl on the other line.

“joseph” she began to slur, sternly, “i said it doesn’t matter. go back to your girl or whatever the fuck she is to you” she hiccuped yet again.

“fuck, i cant believe i’m about to say this right now, but it’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name. it sounds so sweet” drew smiled to himself as he softly giggled. maybe it was from the champagne he’d had earlier or maybe it was the blissfulness from just hearing Y/N oh so sweet voice saying his name again.

“i love you” Y/N slurred out once more as she started to cry again. “i’ve never stopped” she continued. “i thought i could and would move on but i cant and it hurts me that we aren’t a thing anymore” she continued to weep.

“honey don’t say that. please” he frowned as his heart cracked yet again over his ex girlfriend and her words. more like over her admittance of missing him so much still even after all these years.

“why not, drew? it’s the truth” she sniffled as she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of his old college sweatshirt she’d still kept after all these year even after their breakup. she picked the bottle of vodka back up and took another swig of it.

“those words…. fuck. they’re coming from the lips of an angel baby. and hearing those words, it’s makes me so fucking weak. because as much as i want to be with you… i cant” he sighed as a single tear streamed down his stubbled cheek, not even bothering to wipe it away. he soon continued, “i never want to say goodbye, honey. and it’s so fucking hard to admit that. but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel” he dryly chuckled as the memories of their kisses ran through his brain. it still felt so real. the longing to be near her was still there. and the butterflies. and the desire to make her happy. and the want to make her feel safe and loved.

“drew, you’re the one who just said you guys aren’t even a thing so why would you even say that?” Y/N croaked out as she wiped more of her tears away.

“it’s complicated honey. i feel obligated to be faithful even if her and i aren’t really officially a thing. now please for the love of god, baby, why are you crying? what’s wrong? what happened?” drew exerted his concern as his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“i- uh, drew you cant do anything about it, so it doesn’t matter” she whimpered in a whisper, reaching for the bathroom door knob to make sure it was in fact locked. she squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she heard mavericks yells from their kitchen.

“you know, it’s funny that you called me tonight, Y/N/N, because we had some friends over and the whole time i was just thinking of you and how you’ve been. i haven’t heard from you in two years, hunny” drew whispered, his voice strained from the way his heart clenched in pain at the lack of communication between the two when they had both promised to keep in contact.

“maybe that’s why i dream of you. you know what they say, if you dream of someone that means they’re thinking of you. do you dream of me too?” she spoke shakily, as her jaw began to quiver, biting back yet another sob.

“what about maverick? and yes i’ve dreamt of you too, love. i do often” he confessed as he thought back to his dream he had of her from the other night. the two of them had gone on a picnic in the mountains back in their home state of north carolina, enjoying the scenery and all it had to offer, that was until he was awoken by odessa’s loud alarm blaring throughout his bedroom. drew’s lips parted once more as he spoke again, “and does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?”

“th-that’s why i-i uh called. he… uh he got mad again and s-started to throw some things around the kitchen. h-he said some things which isn’t out of the ordinary with him” her frail voice cracked as she finally admitted to him why she had called him so late in the first place. tears once again started pouring out of her once bright eyes which have now been filled with void. “he drinks… a lot. and when he does… he gets kinda aggressive. he will do things to me and say horrible things as well. i-i called you tonight because i’m drunk and i miss you and i know you’d never do this shit to me and because you listen. so well. you always have” she began to cry again for what felt like the twelfth time that night.

“honey, what are you talking about? has he hit you? do you have a place to go?” drew shot up at the mention of mavericks behavior coming from Y/N. he was on high alert and wanted nothing more than to protect her at that instant.

“i shouldn’t have even called. does odessa even know you’re on the phone with me? i don’t want her to get mad at you. i shouldn’t have even called” Y/N stumbled over her words due to the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d been drinking and maybe even a mix of anxiety.

“no, i don’t think she has a clue. i told her it was probably my mom, but, i knew it was you. i still have your number saved to my phone… with your ringtone too. couldn’t get myself to delete it, even after all these years” he confessed as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. he bit his lip in frustration before speaking sternly this time around, “Y/N, honey, tell me…. has he fucking hit you?”

“y-yes. but he didn’t mean to” she tried to excuse her boyfriends actions, though deep down she knew it was a lie. “and yeah if i have to i can go to my brothers but i don’t need anyone’s fucking help or pity” she blurted a little loud.

“fuck, Y/N” he sighed as fresh tears broke his waterline of his azul eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“it’s okay, drew, i promise. i’m not your problem anymore. i haven’t been for four years now.” she expressed as she drank the last bit of the vodka that was left in the bottle.

“Y/N can you do one thing for m-“ drew was cut off by a soft knock on the reading rooms door, notifying him that someone ,odessa, was on the other side.

“hey, uh you almost done? it’s getting late and i wanna go to bed” she complained to drew as he’d pulled his phone away from his attentive ears.

“u-uh yeah. let me tell my mom goodnight real quick” he stuttered nervously, worried she’d been ease dropping on part of the private conversation he’d been having on the phone with Y/N. and with that odessa nodded her head as she left the room, shutting the door as she went.

“what is it that you want me to promise you?” Y/N sniffled.

“call me if it gets bad again. i’ll fly out there immediately”

“i promise.”

“i never wanna say goodbye” he admitted to her after her promise.

“i don’t either, but you have to” she spoke flatly as she’d just heard Odessa moments before. she opened her mouth, speaking one last line, “i love you drew”

“i-i love you too honey” drew spoke the words he’d been bottling up since the day the two broke up, as fresh tears streamed down his stubbled cheeks. during the moment he spoke those words all he could hear were mavericks yells and bangs onto the bathroom door through his phone, before the call ended all together.

taglist: @slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 74

Part 1 Part 73

It’s cold. Eddie’s breath is gusting out in front of him, visible in the air. Somehow, remarkably, Will and Steve are both asleep, cuddled up together in Eddie’s bed. Eddie’s not sure he’ll ever sleep again.

Will’s in one of Steve’s crew-neck sweaters, the yellow one that Eddie steals to sleep in sometimes. His head’s pillowed on Steve’s cold shoulder, cushioned by Steve’s teddy bear to keep a barrier between their drastically different skin temperatures.

Will has three blankets stacked atop him, making him look childlike and smaller than he usually is.

Fuck, they’re all just kids.

In contrast, Steve’s got a t-shirt on, some boxers, no blankets. He’s breathing deeply, air puffing invisibly into the room. Like his lungs are already too cold for the air to tell the difference.

Eddie wants to cry. They’re fucking kids, curled up and small in Eddie’s bed. He wants to barricade the door and never let anyone else see them ever again. But Mama Byers is probably freaking out right about now, and Eddie has the horrible feeling that the monster’s already in here with them.

He leaves the bedroom, closing the door gently with a near-silent click as he pads, sock-footed out of the room.

Eddie’s stuck at the threshold, staring into the darkening interior of the trailer. He feels like he’s been stuck at the threshold for weeks, and everything keeps trying to push him through.

The monster, the lab, Chief fucking Hopper. They’re all pushing at his back, trying to shove him somewhere he’s not sure he wants to be. And now’s he through, and he doesn’t know what to do. They’re kids. They’re all just fucking kids. Even him. Even Steve. And god, Will’s still so small.

He’s past the theshould, straight through, and there’s no more time to stall. So, Eddie does what he always does when he wants to run – he picks up the phone.

It’s not Uncle Wayne that answers, just a faceless, nameless peon down at the plant. But they patch him through. Eddie’s bottom lip tremors, so he bites down on it, caging all his mixed up emotions in his throat until Uncle Wayne can pick up his call and tell him what to do.

“Ed?” he asks, sharp and demanding the way he always gets when he’s worried and trying not to show it. “What’s wrong?”

“It–” Eddie’s throat chooses that moment to clog up. He chokes on his words, trying to claw them out. “It’s Steve he–”

He hiccups pathetically. “Breathe, boy.”

Eddie doesn’t, but he starts talking, words slurring over each other as they fight their way out past his clogged throat and lame tongue. “There was all this smoke, Uncle Wayne, and it’s in him.” He says it all in one breath, barely intelligible as they make a mad dash to escape his vocal chords before he loses the ability to speak altogether.

“Breath.”

Eddie does, just once, sharp and quick, before continuing, “You don’t get it. He was suffocating! Dying! But then he wasn’t, but this is wrong.” he says, hissing into the receiver and staring at the closed bedroom door, waiting for it to open. “There’s something wrong with him.”

The last whisper rings over the static of the line. Eddie can hear Uncle Wayne breathing, slow and steady enough that he can regulate his own lungs to it without the command. As if he knows this, because he always knows, he lets the silence settle in. Eddie’s breaths deepen, finally making his lungs fully expand, before Uncle Wayne speaks.

“I’m coming home.”

Uncle Wayne hasn’t come home early since that time in grade school when he’d called him at work, delirious as his brain cooked itself.

Uncle Wayne had come home with cold medicine and canned chicken noodle soup clacking together in a shitty plastic bag from the gas station. Eddie had been curled up on the couch, nearly delirious as his Uncle spooned medicine down his throat before going to heat up the soup on the stove.

He’d only been living with Uncle Wayne for a few months at that point, walking on eggshells as he waited to be kicked to the curb. It was Wayne’s quiet care even in the face of Eddie’s inconvenience that had convinced him that maybe this situation was for keeps.

He hadn’t realized until the next week that the missed work and cost of supplies would mean two double shifts to keep the electricity on. Wayne never mentioned it, but Eddie noticed things, and the break in routine stuck out. He decided to never call Wayne home early from work again. And, he’d stuck to his guns, muddling through any situation until his Uncle got home.

Now, those same cost analyses are running through his head. A day at home today, means overtime tomorrow, means they get to keep the electricity on. “But–”

“No buts, Ed,” Wayne cuts in gruffly. “I’ll see you in ten.”

The dial tone is the most comforting sound Eddie’s ever heard. He stands there, cradling the dead line until it starts beeping, then goes silent. He’s stuck again, at another threshold.

He doesn’t move when he hears tires on gravel coming up the drive, doesn’t move when the front door opens, when his Uncle’s work-rough hands brush over his shoulders and squeeze, when he walks further into the trailer, away from Eddie.

But then he hears the bedroom door click open. He drops the phone, just lets it dangle unhooked on the line, and follows his Uncle into the unknown.

Will’s still curled into a small ball, but now he’s blinking up at where Wayne is hovering above the bed, the back of his hand pressed to Steve’s head with a frown of concentration.

He reaches out to shake Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t–” Eddie starts, but it’s too late: Steve’s awake.

He blinks up at Wayne, gaze vacant and uncomprehending before it clears. “What?” he asks, voice full of sleep’s gravel as he rubs his eyes.

“We gotta go, Harrington.”

Steve blinks uncomprehendingly up at Wayne. He doesn’t react. Not to the last name that Wayne had never called him. Not to the way Wayne’s frowning down at him like he’s trying to vivisect him with just his gaze. He just gets up and walks purposefully out of the room in nothing but his boxers to stand by the door.

Will sits up, looking after Steve with a worried frown Eddie swears he can feel beating within his own chest. He wrings his hands in the loose fabric of the too-long sleeves of Steve’s sweater as he stands. “Where are we going?” he asks, leaving no wiggle room to be left behind.

Wayne turns away, rifling through Eddie’s drawers to grab a T-shirt and basketball shorts for Steve, who’s still standing eerily still by the front door.

“Eddie?” Will asks, but Eddie just shrugs because he doesn’t know, can’t seem to think past the clawing dread festering within him.

Uncle Wayne huffs, “your Ma’s house,” without looking at either of them as he strides out of the room and toward Steve.

Seeing as Eddie’s own Mom is six feet in the ground, he’s going to assume Wayne means Mama Byers. He looks over to Will who’s still standing there, fidgeting with Steve’s sweater with a wide-eyed look Eddie can’t quite read.

“I’m late,” Will murmurs, staring up at Eddie like he can fix this. “She’s going to be mad.”

Eddie strides over to slap his arm companionably over Will’s shoulders as he drags him out of the room. “Nah, just worried, baby Byers.”

Will huffs. “That’s worse,” he murmurs. And yeah, it is. Ms. Byers has spent enough time with that grieving, panicked look in her eyes, that Eddie’d rather never see it again, to be honest. But it’s a little late for that.

Wayne’s pulling Steve’s shorts up, tying the string around his waist. He’s already got a shirt on, arms dangling loosely as he makes no move to help. It would be a sweet moment if Steve’s eyes weren’t still staring vacantly at the front door.

Wayne pushes Steve forward, shuffling him into the flip flops Eddie left abandoned at the front door. Steve flexes his toes around them, and finally shows signs of life. “Thank you,” he murmurs, reaching out to open the front door, and step surely down the steps as they all scramble to follow.

All four of them pile into Wayne’s truck, Wayne in the driver’s seat, and Eddie in the back with Will, Steve sandwiched in between them. No one mentions the empty passenger seat.

Without prompting, Will digs his walkie talkie out of his deep jean pocket, and depresses the talk button. “Party meeting at my house,” Will says, “Over.”

He lets go of the button, and stares down at the thing, like he’s willing his friend’s voices to trickle out. Wayne watches him through the rearview mirror, before flicking his eyes back to the road.

Eddie jumps when voices start speaking over each other, chaotic and loud, until Dustin’s voice rings over them all. “Code red?” he demands.

Will shifts his eyes over to Steve before meeting Eddie’s own. Eddie shrugs because honestly, who could say what the fuck is going on at this point?

“Uh, code yellow?” Will replies questioningly.

“That’s not a thing!” Dustin says.

There’s the sound of a scuffle, then silence, before it’s Mike’s voice ringing out over the tinny speaker. “Is it about whatever the hell happened with Steve?”

Steve doesn’t look up at the sound of his name. A stone’s dropping in Eddie’s stomach. He’s not sure where it lands, but he can feel the impact shake him. Something’s very very wrong.

Will responds, “yeah,” on a quiet exhale. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Be quick.”

Will shuts the thing off and stuffs it back into his pocket. The silence immediately suffocates, clouding Eddie’s mind. There’s a careful three inches between his thigh and Steve’s that leaves him buzzing.

There haven’t been any spaces between them, not since that first night in the Upside-Down, huddled down in Harrington’s closet, waiting for a dawn that’ll never come. The space aches now, like a missing limb, like a string pulling them together, rope burning Eddie’s skin as he resists.

It’s a relief to pull up to the Byers’ house. Even when Mama Byers storms out, the rain cloud of anger across her face barely masking the banked terror beneath it. Jonathan trails out after her, eyes shining with the worry he hasn’t been able to shake in almost a year. Will crawls out of the backseat, and stands hesitantly beside the open door, looking down at his shoes as his Mom approaches. She scoops Will into her arms with a curse, scolding him fiercely even as Will burrows into her embrace.

Jonathan hovers, palms resting gently onto both their shoulders, like it physically pains him not to be involved, but he doesn’t have the heart to push in between them.

Eddie watches the scene for a moment, letting the ache settle into him before he’s sliding out of the car to stand by Wayne’s side.

When Steve doesn’t immediately get out, Eddie calls, “Stevie?” until he’s crawling out to stand beside Eddie. The contrast between their outfits is startling in the cold, November air. Eddie’s got goosebumps. Steve’s got nothing at all.

“Aren’t you cold, honey?” Eddie looks up from the bare skin of Steve’s arm to watch Mama Byers round the front of the truck, hands outstretched, as if to pull him into his own hug.

“Wait, don’t—” Eddie says, but her hands are already clasped around Steve’s forearms.

Steve hisses, taking a step back and yanking his arms out of her hands. Mama Byers looks up at him, mouth open, eyes wide. No one speaks.

There’s silence. Then, the loud tires of three kid’s shitty bikes eating up the pavement as fast as possible. They skid into view, abandoning bikes to crowd around Will like he’s an injured deer they're trying to protect.

Wayne sighs. “Guess we better go in,” he says. His voice is monotone, but when Eddie looks over at him, his eyes are sad as he gazes at Steve. “We got a lot to talk about.

Part 75

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 019: The Piggyback

If you had the chance to do it over again with Eddie — and DO IT RIGHT — would you?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* * = somewhat smut , ** = smut

CW: hospital setting, dialogue heavy, uncertainty, fluff, talks of blood/broken bones/etc., car accident implications

word count: 2.5k words

“I’ll pick up these broken pieces ‘til I’m bleeding, if that’ll make it right.”

♡

Hawkins Memorial Hospital reeks of bleach wipes and bitter tears.

“Eddie…” Dustin wails. “No no no, noooo. Eddie…”

You’re sitting on the floor of the nurses station with Robin, Steve, and Nancy while the ‘kiddos’ occupy the waiting chairs. Surely, it's got to be unsanitary, but contracting germs off the floor of the ICU were the least of your concerns.

Your eyes follow Wayne as he helplessly wheels around, talking to anyone who would lend him an ear... anyone who would possibly know anything about his nephew’s condition.

“And my nephew — Eddie — he's self-employed,” Wayne continues to tell them.

Wheeling…wheeling…wheeling…

“But the Program he’s with allows him to go through Scott Clarke. You know Scott Clarke Insurance? It’s S-c-o-t-t, C-l-a-r-k-e… I’m through them too…”

But the able-bodied personnel are too fast for old Wayne, walking at a speed about 5mph while his frail fingers can only allow him up to 2 and a half. Just like the liters of oxygen he is on.

“Does he have a case manager assigned to him yet?” Wayne wonders. “If so I would like their name, please.”

Eventually Wayne’s voice fades the further away he gets. And just so you don't wallow in your misery, you go to your phone to see if anyone else has been reaching out to you for updates.

Justice (Hellfire)

Omg just heard the news! Hey girlie, is Eddie ok??? Can we come see him yet??

Just as you expected. Annoyed, you respond.

Girl fuck you

Suddenly a hand squeezes your kneecap. You didn't realize how aggressively you were tapping your feet until Max stops you.

“Doing okay, sis?”

“Yeah I'm just...” you sigh. “…going through all the emotions I guess. And in a fucked up way, I'm kinda convinced this is all my fault."

“You're a dumbass," she scowls at you. "How could you have possibly seen this coming? This was not in anyone’s control."

“I broke the rule,” is all you say. “We never go to bed angry.”

The odds have always been against you. You would think you knew that by now. It was probably why you spent all morning beating yourself up; because you knew that if you did, there's a huge possibility that Eddie would pull through. The Universe is twisted like that.

Suddenly, a pair of white coats are seen coming out of Eddie's room. Everybody in the party immediately stands, like it's some formation exercise at a bootcamp of sorts. Wayne eventually circles back as well, gazing up at Dr. Owens with hopeful eyes.

“Eddie is going to be okay,” Owens concludes. “You can all breathe now.”

The room fills with bone-weary, but nonetheless celebratory cheers. Owens and Eddie's nurse, Nurse Patty allows everybody to hug one another in relief. Eddie's doctor goes to speak again when the clamor dies down.

“But he did have to undergo emergency surgery,” Dr. Owens adds. “And he lost a lot of blood, so we have him on additional transfusions, as well as an antibiotic for an infection caused by his wounds. The plan for him is to recover, hopefully get him up with therapy when the time is right, and then he can get out of here.”

“Can we see him?” your voice cracks.

“That is up to him," the doctor responds. "But for now, what the young man told me is that he wants chocolate pudding... and to see his Uncle and girlfriend."

You and Wayne waste no time. Unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair, you lug Eddie's uncle into ICU room #010, unsure of what is to greet you behind the curtains.

The room is littered with juice and jello, laced by an overpowering bleach-esque fragrance that most likely was there to mask the innate smell of blood and other bodily fluids.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the familiar IV machine. And funny enough, Eddie has his TV on, blasting South Park on full volume, exactly the way it normally would be playing at the Harrington-Munson estate.

"…tell everyone the truth about whose fault this is! I didn't do anything!" ... "...you KNEW about the prank, you could've stopped it at any time, but you didn't say a word. SILENCE IS VIOLENCE!"

And there is Eddie, dressed in a mesh-fabric gauze bandana, a worn-out beige hospital gown, with matching grippy socks. His entire lower lip is busted, left arm in a cast, both of his heels elevated with blood-saturated pillows. And his hair... you didn't even want to think about the matting. But that is ground to be covered much later.

When Eddie sees the two of you, he only utters one sentence:

“Does this mean I finally get that motorcycle?”

“You fucking idiot!” you wail going in to hug him.

Eddie chuckles solemnly as you completely fall into his embrace, soaking his gown with your salty tears.

"I thought we lost you, Eddie,” you whisper in his ear as you sniff your tears away. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did...knowing what I said."

He strokes your hair. "You have every right to be mad at me. I've been such a shitty boyfriend to you."

“I second that,” Wayne huffs, crossing his arms. “The idiot part, I mean… but I’m glad you’re okay, son.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles. “I knew those Eddie Stops would catch up to me one day.”

Eventually, the rest of the party spills in, starting with the batallion of younger Hellfire boys who were inconsolable all morning, absolutely petrified of losing their role-model.

"Jesus,” Dustin breathes. “We thought you were a-goner!”

"Hey guys, good to see ya," Eddie grins, soaking up every bit of attention from his little minions as they all pile on top of him. Suddenly, he flinches. "Hey hey hey, watch my IVs! I've got an important med running through that piggyback."

"Right, sorry," they all utter in unison as they separate themselves from him.

Steve is next in line to give Eddie a hug, followed by Robin, and Nancy, and soon Jonathan. Chrissy and Argyle are the next people to trail in, with Henry and Nina at their tail. Then, the Corroded Coffin boys soon after.

"Eddie, oh my god!" Chrissy cries. "Don't you ever scare any of us like that again!"

"Good to see ya, Chris," Eddie smiles, giving her a one-armed hug. "Hey Neens! Creel! Villalobos. Boys.”

"So not cool man," Argyle shakes his head. "So not cool. We were worried sick for you."

As you all iron out the details, it is discovered that Eddie got into the accident shortly after leaving your place. He, in fact did, pull an Eddie Stop, failing to see the car coming at him from his left side, which then resulted in him getting T-boned. The other driver was okay. In fact, he was the one who called the ambulance for him.

"How much longer until you're discharged?" Nancy asks.

"I'm not too sure," Eddie sighs. "Hopefully in a few weeks."

He fails to sit up completely, wincing once again when his pain drags him down. Everybody nearly rushes to his aid, tenderly lowering Eddie back onto the bed while encouraging him to take it easy.

"Don't even worry about it, Eds," Lucas assures him. "We can hold down the fort."

"Oh that's reassuring," Eddie mutters sarcastically, shaking his head in discontent.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing!"

---

You decide to stay with Eddie for the afternoon while everyone else goes home. A couple others stay behind as well, so you all take turns alternating, helping the nurses with their care and making sure Eddie isn't alone when a specialist from his team comes to see him.

But for now, it's just you and him, cuddled up in his rather stiff hospital bed, watching TV to pass time by.

"It feels weird sitting in place for once," he comments. "My body isn't used to laying down for a long period of time."

"Constantly in fight or flight, huh?" you tut. "Always on the go..."

Eddie whistles. "God, you have no idea..."

"Nah, I do," you insist, grabbing his hand to kiss it. "Our flights just look a lil different is all."

Suddenly, your phone rings again, causing both you and Eddie to jolt in shock. This time, it's your FaceTime ringtone... and on the other line, is Kassidy, quite possibly accompanied by the other Hellfire Girls.

"Jesus H. Christ," you mumble. "They've been spamming me all morning. Probably just wanna know how you're doing."

"Answer it," Eddie encourages you sharply. His tone is rather gruff, and urgent. "I need to talk to them."

Because you're nice enough to allow the girls the luxury of knowing their lord and savior is alive, you answer the call and hand your phone to Eddie. There's a slight pause before the call is connected.

"Hi," is all Eddie says.

"Eddie! OMG!" the girls squeal through the other line, of course all while failing to acknowledge you — the person whose number they called in the first place. "Are you okay?!"

"Yes girls, I'm fine..." he sighs. "How's Hellfire? Everyone holding down the fort?"

"Of course, just like we do best," Kassidy responds. "We just miss you, Eddie. What happened?"

"Got T-boned."

"OMG, whose fault was it?"

"Mine," he seems relatively short with them.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in a little bit of pain. But I got some pain meds to help me."

"Thank God!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hospital walls, Nina and Chrissy stare at each other in bewilderment, a look that is naturally followed by one of disgust.

"Oh I know damn well..." Nina shakes her head.

"Stupid ass bitches," Chrissy adds.

Being the nosy girls they are, Nina and Chrissy crane their heads over into the room, eavesdropping on the FaceTime conversation between Eddie and the Hellfire Girls.

"Oh Eddie," Emmy pouts. "We're so glad that you're doing okay."

"Yeah, Eddie!" Lady chirps. "When do you think you'll be released?"

"Hopefully I'll be out in about two weeks," Eddie responds. "But I'll stay at home for a bit before coming back. You won't even know I'm gone."

The girls cheer obnoxiously on the other line. You try to act indifferent towards everything for Eddie's sake, but it's hard for you to feign something that so evidently isn't true.

Eddie senses it. And what he says next to the girls takes you by surprise.

"...But," Eddie says. "In that same amount of time, I expect your lockers to be cleared... as well as your side of the dressing room."

There's a brief silence while the girls try to piece together what Eddie means by that. Because surely it doesn't mean what they initially thought it meant.

"Why? Are we getting moved?"

"No, you're all getting terminated."

So it was exactly what they thought it meant.

"Wh-what? Why?!"

"What do you mean why?" Eddie demands.

He begins to list off everything they have done wrong, all of which they pretended to be oblivious about until now.

"The final straw is calling my girlfriend's phone, non-stop, knowing that's the only way to get through to me," Eddie goes on. "And not even acknowledging her! And even if you did, you all have some damn nerve considering what you guys did at Hellfire."

"You don't even have proof of us damaging her property though!" Justice argues. "So for all we know, you're just accusing us of things, Eddie."

"That's funny," you speak up. "Who said anything about property damage?"

Caught in their own trap.

The MAIN reason Eddie couldn't fire the Hellfire Girls when they put sugar in your gas tank was because you didn't have any proof that they did it, therefore it wouldn't hold up well if the girls decided to sue for wrongful termination. Again, lots of legalities to come in to play.

The girls were smart though. Choosing to wreck your car because they knew it was parked in the security camera's blindspot. Essentially, after the damage was done, it would be your word against theirs. And there was only so much that Eddie could do with the "subtle jabs". But now that you have a confession, Eddie can work off of that.

"But Eddie!" Justice whines. "This is so unfair. We've known you, and been at Hellfire longer than she has."

"Two weeks," Eddie reiterates, still firm on his decision. "That's enough time for you ladies to figure out the next step. I wish you the best of luck."

The ending of the FaceTime call wasn't a pretty one. It mainly consisted of denying and bargaining, all of which Eddie did not have the energy to be receptive to.

You and Eddie continue to hash it out with the girls over the phone, all while Nina and Chrissy were twerking in celebration because it meant more money for them during tip outs. And most importantly, celebrating you getting the justice you deserve...along with the possibility of you coming back.

"That was something I should've done way long ago," Eddie sighs as he hands you your phone back. "I hate dealing with legal shit."

"I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible," you frown.

"And I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible to you," Eddie counters. "I really wish I could've done more for you. But up until now my hands were tied legally, honey. And financially."

"It was a sticky situation," you mutter. "But...I knew you had a favorite."

He kisses your forehead once more and you lean into him again, resting your head against his chest and wrapping your leg around his torso.

"Ow, ow, OW!" Eddie yelps.

"Sorry!"

You asunder again.

"You think you're gonna find enough dancers in time?" you ask him.

"We'll be okay four dancers short," Eddie assures you. "And besides, more tips for the other ladies when it comes down to tip-outs. They did Hellfire a favor."

Exactly what Chrissy and Nina were thinking.

"Speaking of Hellfire..." Eddie quips. "Does this mean you're coming back?"

"Only if I'm still welcome."

"Of course you are, babe," Eddie chuckles. "Everyone there loves you."

Your heart flutters at the forsaken "L" word, uttered with so much certainty and fondness.

"...including me," Eddie adds. "I love you, man."

You bite your lip to contain your excitement as you blush, giving Eddie a light punch across his chest.

"I love you too...man."

And as a way to poke fun at you, Eddie flashes you a "surf's up" sign with his non-crippled fingers. He puts on his most pretentious California accent possible, one he learned how to do from Argyle.

"Righteous...man."

And before it could get any more intimate, Chrissy makes her way into the room, reaching into her tote bag to give you something she's been holding onto since she arrived.

You watch as she unveils a familiar velvet garment — your cloak. She gives you a courtly bow as she hands it back over to you, symbolizing an end to your very brief retirement from Hellfire, and a permanent seat at The Party's table.

"You know Hargrove, I believe..." says Chrissy. "...that this is for you."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins @feral-pumpkin-energy @bl0ssomanddie

[ovaryacted]

Well let me send some soft!Leon.

Leon is the type of guy to be like “I may have gotten bitten by zombies and thrown against walls but like. That’s still better than period cramps.”

If he’s not away on a mission, I imagine he’d want to just lay in bed with you all day. He gives good snuggles. Gets tea and the heating pad.

But also, I had the hilarious imagine of Leon being real fucking clueless with the emotions of it. You know the meme of the girl over the toilet being pat on the back by a broom? That’s Leon. He’s like “there there” while keeping 10ft away from you.

Unironically if you run out of pads/tampons he probably texts you “what size coochie you wear?” Or whatever. But! If you tell him, that’s the only time you need to because he remembers.

Also, not embarrassed about getting period products. I mean, this guy is built like a house, and attractive as fuck everyone knows he’s picking stuff up for his lady. Probably getting head too let’s be honest.

He also picks up your face snack.

-angsty anon (I guess not angsty this time lol)

EEEEEEK thank you for sending this angsty (not so angsty) anon cause I actually feel like shit at work but this was so cute. Also I know the memes you’re talking about they’re deep in my gallery I can’t find them right now lmao. But yeah let me cook and self indulge cause I can. (And cause the cramps are starting to ramp up).

Disclaimer: I know everyone’s period cycle is different, this is not a one size fits all. I’m speaking generally, mostly about myself but yeah if it doesn’t apply let it fly and that’s okay! Leon would still be a good partner and meet your needs either way. 🫶

Leon to me is the type of guy that would provide comfort and humor whenever you need it and without you having to ask for it. He just cares, that’s all he does really. But of course, he’s aware that when your cycle hits, he has to be more aware of your emotions and what you need. He’s very in tune when it comes to tending to you, but he isn’t afraid to ask so he can give you exactly what you want.

If he isn’t at home, he’d probably have your cycle tracked on his phone so he knows when to send you a gift package or flowers just so you know he’s around. If he’s going on mission, he’d send those things in advance, and when he comes back home he’d bring your favorite food and snacks as a welcome present.

But when he is home and he knows your period is about to kickstart, he instantly goes into house husband mode. He knows the first few days are the toughest and it gets easier over time, but sometimes all you want to do is just stay curled up in bed and sleep the pain off. He’d be right there beside you, giving you tea and pain medication if you ask for it, making sure you have water nearby and a heating pad to help with your comfort. Clothing wise, he gives you his clothes, ones you already stole from him anyway, finding his boxers much more comfortable than the panties you have, and a baggy t-shirt that smells like him to ease your nerves.

He handles the chores in your living space, cleans the place up and does the laundry, plus he gets groceries and cooks if that’s what you request. When he does go out to do the shopping, he asks you what snacks you want, already having some in mind but double checks if you want something specific. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous your cravings are, he’ll give them to you without judgement. You can eat all the junk and sugar you want, so long as it helps with your mood he’ll get it. Or if you want fruits and things that are a bit easier to eat considering your nausea, he’ll get that too.

He buys your feminine products without shame, gets irritated about how expensive they are “because they should be free” according to him, and gets you an extra box for you to have in advance. There may be other people in the section watching him as he finds the exact brand and size you use, not that he cares if he’s being watched, and he can hear your voice in his head talking about it.

Get the all cotton ones with wings, medium-sized. The thicker ones are for overnight, so get me a pack too. Do not get the ones that say light flow or small, those don’t do shit!

Your emotions are all over the place, more sensitive and easily irritable by anything and everything. At times it scares him how fast your mood can change, but he doesn’t judge you for it, you can’t help the way your body behaves. He doesn’t hover over you, comes by to check in, see if you feel any better. If you ask him to cuddle with you, he’ll do that no questions asked, but if you don’t want to be touched, he’ll leave you alone and let you rest. It’s not personal to him, he gets it, somewhat at least. He’ll send you cute text messages with those silly emoticons from the living room, or send you a funny video he saw on social media (it didn’t make you laugh but it’s the thought that counts).

The mental aspects of your cycle can be debilitating at times, and it’ll make you second guess things that shouldn’t be in your head. Leon knows what that’s like, and he’s there for you to talk to if you need it. He’s ready with affirmations, soft words, and constantly tells you that he adores you and loves you. Shit that makes your heart warm and your mind shut up, he just supports you in whatever you need.

Now as for the secret period horniness that sometimes likes to sneak up on you, he’s also willing to provide. It doesn’t happen often, but he knows when it does. When you’re snuggled up into him and start shifting your hips against him, or when your breathing gets a bit shaky the moment his hands come up towards your thighs. He’s on your time, whatever you say goes, and he only does things if you ask for them. So if you say you want to be touched he’ll do it, he’ll caress you and massage your chest to ease the soreness you feel there. If you want to suck him off to appease to your oral fixation, he’ll let you, and happily keep your hair up and praise you along the way. And if you tell him you want to have sex with him, he’ll bring out the towels or propose a shower, whatever you decide he’s fine with. It doesn’t bother him, he’s seen so much blood and gore that this is the last of his concerns. Plus, orgasms help with period cramps so whatever helps you, he’ll do it.

Whatever you need, he’s willing to provide. Thats just the type of man and partner he is.

I need him. Im fucking sad.

[lila-lou]

✨Obsessed - Pt. 5✨

Summary: After weeks of searching, you finally found Dean. However, he was no longer the man you had been in love with- but more importantly, no longer the man who never returned your love. Because now, in his twisted state, he was somehow obsessed with you.

Pairing: Dean x PregnantReader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, fluff, Pregnancy

Word Count: 5586

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

That’s when you came out of the bedroom, dressed again in a fresh, cozy matching set. The smell of food had woken you, and you rubbed your eyes as you walked into the living room, slightly confused to see Sam and Dean deep in conversation. Sam looked up and smiled at you, breaking the tension.

“Hey, Y/N”, Sam greeted warmly. “I brought food and a ton of vitamins”, He shook out the bag from the pharmacy, showing off the variety of supplements he had picked up for you.

You smiled, feeling a mix of gratitude and awkwardness. “Thanks, Sam. That’s really thoughtful of you”.

Dean watched you closely, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension. He had just made a big confession to Sam, and now he needed to show you that he meant every word.

“I figured you might be hungry, and you could use the extra nutrients”, Sam said, gesturing to the vitamins.

You chuckled softly, moving to sit at the table. “You’re right, I’m starving. Thanks, Sam”.

As you began to eat, you felt Dean’s gaze on you. It was persistent, almost burning with unspoken words. After a while, Sam excused himself to the bathroom, leaving you and Dean alone at the table. You turned towards him, your frustration evident.

“What?”, you asked, slightly annoyed, putting down your fork. “Why do you keep staring at me?”.

Dean looked taken aback, fumbling for words. “I think we should—”.

“Please, Dean, don’t”, you cut him off, your voice pleading. “We don’t need to talk. I know what you’re going to say. It’s been a mistake, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, blah blah. I’m not hurt, Dean. I know where we stand. We’re trying to accept each other back into our lives for the baby, but we can’t be together. I know that”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “I just… I was horny, okay? I’m seven months pregnant and I’ve been horny for days. So… I wanted to have sex. It’s that simple. I won´t fall in love with you again, okay? Don worry”.

Dean looked at you, a mixture of surprise and guilt in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, unsure of what to say. Then his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you used me? For… my dick?”, he asked, his tone a mix of incredulity and bemusement.

You sighed, feeling your frustration rise again. “Dean, I just needed release. I didn’t mean to complicate things or make you feel used. It was just… what I needed at the moment”. You lied, of course you lied.

Dean’s expression softened slightly, but the confusion remained. “I just want to understand, Y/N. You mean it didn’t mean anything to you?”.

You shook your head, trying to find the right words. “It’s not that it didn’t mean anything. It’s just that I know we can’t be together. We have to be realistic about this. We need to focus on the baby and figure out how to co-parent without me getting my emotions tangled up”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at the table. “Huh”, he said quietly. Then, in a softer, almost bitter tone, he mumbled, “So this is how women feel all the time, huh? Guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine".

Dean had always been the one in control, the one who could separate his emotions from his actions. But now, it was different. He had finally started to understand his feelings for you, but it seemed like he was too late. You had moved on, or at least convinced yourself that you had.

Dean forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I guess I’ve learned my lesson”, he said, attempting to joke. “Who knew I’d be the one getting used for a change?”.

You managed a small smile in return, though your heart ached. Of course, you weren’t over Dean. You probably never would be. But hearing him talk about how it was a mistake or anything like that was something you just couldn’t handle right now.

“Yeah, guess the tables have turned”, you replied, trying to keep the conversation light.

Dean tried to keep the conversation going, asking you about the baby, your plans, and how you were feeling. It was clear he was making an effort to be involved, to show you that he cared.

You appreciated his efforts, even if it was hard to fully trust his intentions just yet. The fact that he was trying, though, meant a lot.

When Sam returned from the bathroom, he sensed the shift in the atmosphere. He sat down, joining in on the conversation and helping to keep things light and comfortable. For the first time in a long while, it felt like you were all moving towards some semblance of normalcy.

“So, how’s the food?”, Sam asked, looking between the two of you with a knowing smile.

“It’s good, thanks”, you replied, grateful for the distraction. “Exactly what I needed”.

Dean took another bite of his food, then looked up at you with a curious expression. “So, do you know the gender already?”, he asked, his tone casual but clearly interested.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, I wanted to keep it a secret. I thought it would be nice to have a surprise”.

Dean’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a playful glint in his eye. “Aw, come on! You don’t want to know if it’s a mini-Dean or mini-you? I’m dying to find out”.

You laughed softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “I thought about finding out, but then I decided against it. It’s one of the few surprises in life that’s actually good”.

Dean pretended to pout, but there was genuine amusement in his eyes. “You’re killing me here. How am I supposed to prepare if I don’t know what color to paint the nursery?”.

You raised an eyebrow at him, trying to hide your amusement. “Nursery? Dean, we haven’t even figured out the basics yet”.

Dean grinned, pushing past the sting of your rejection with his usual charm. “Well, how about you just come home again, and we can figure everything out together?”, he teased.

You raised both eyebrows at his audacity, a mix of amusement and incredulity crossing your face. “You’re really something, you know that?”, you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the complicated feelings swirling inside you.

Dean shrugged, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying, it’d make things a lot easier. Plus, I can help with midnight cravings and nursery painting. Think of it as a team effort”.

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Dean, maybe ease up a bit. It’s a lot to take in”.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just throwing ideas out there”.

Dean’s expression turned more serious as he looked at you, the playful grin fading slightly. “But seriously, Y/N, I really do want you back in the bunker. I want to know that you and the baby are safe”.

You felt a pang of emotion at his words, recognizing the sincerity behind them. Despite everything, Dean’s concern for you was genuine. “Dean, I appreciate that. I really do. But coming back isn’t just a simple decision. There’s a lot we need to work through first”.

Dean nodded, understanding the weight of your words. “I know, and I’m willing to put in the work. I just want to be a part of your life, and the baby’s life. We can figure out the rest as we go”.

Sam chimed in, trying to ease the tension. “Look, we don’t have to decide everything right now. Let’s just take it one step at a time. You’re welcome to stay with us, or we can help you here. Whatever makes you feel comfortable”.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their concern and the decisions you had to make. “Thanks, Sam. Just let me sleep on it for one night, okay? I need some time to think”.

Dean bit his lip, his eyes still fixed on you, filled with a mixture of hope and anxiety. Sam, sensing the tension build again, smiled softly. “Well, I never thought I would actually become an uncle to a nephew I actually know”, he said, glancing at Dean. “I mean, considering your countless one-night stands…”.

Dean chuckled, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess this one’s a bit different, huh?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, the brothers’ banter bringing a sense of normalcy back to the conversation. “You both are something else".

Sam grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Hey, we try”.

Over the next few days, Dean’s persistence and genuine concern slowly wore down your reservations. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn’t deny the benefits of having him and Sam close, especially with the baby on the way. Before long, you found yourself packing your things and returning to the bunker.

The transition wasn’t as difficult as you feared. Dean and Sam went out of their way to make you feel comfortable and at home. It wasn’t perfect, but a routine began to form, one that made you feel more secure and supported.

A week had passed since your return, and you were starting to see how things could work out. Dean was involved and attentive, and his excitement about the baby was palpable. Today, you had a doctor’s appointment at your new office, and you decided to ask Dean if he wanted to join you.

“Dean”, you called, finding him in the kitchen. “I have a doctor’s appointment today. Do you want to come with me?”.

Dean looked up from his coffee, a broad smile spreading across his face. “Absolutely, I’d love to”, he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting in the waiting room. Dean fidgeted slightly, his eagerness and nervousness evident. “I’ve never been to one of these before”, he admitted, trying to play it cool.

You smiled, placing a reassuring hand on his. “It’s just a check-up. They’ll make sure everything’s going well with the baby and me”.

When the nurse called your name, Dean stood up quickly, almost knocking over his chair in his haste. You chuckled softly, leading the way into the examination room. The doctor greeted you both warmly and began the routine checks, asking questions about your health and how you’d been feeling.

Dean watched intently, his eyes never leaving the ultrasound screen. When the image of your baby appeared, his breath caught in his throat. The doctor pointed out the baby’s heartbeat, the tiny movements, and explained everything in detail.

“Wow”, Dean whispered, his voice filled with awe. “That’s our baby”.

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s our baby”.

The doctor smiled at Dean´s reaction, then turned to you both. “Everything looks great. The baby is healthy and growing well. Do you want to know the gender?”.

Dean’s smile faltered slightly, remembering that you had wanted to keep the gender a secret. He looked at you, his eyes questioning. You met his gaze and saw the mix of excitement and hesitation in his eyes.

With a small smile, you nodded. “Yes, we’d like to know”.

Dean’s face lit up with joy and surprise. He squeezed your hand, his excitement bubbling over. The doctor turned the screen slightly so you both could see more clearly.

The doctor chuckled, pointing at the screen. “Well, that’s certainly no leg”, she said with a smile, indicating a small but unmistakable detail.

Dean’s eyes widened, his face lighting up with pure joy. “A boy?”, he asked, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

You felt a surge of emotion, tears welling up in your eyes. “We’re having a boy”, you whispered, the reality of it sinking in.

Dean leaned in, kissing your forehead gently. “A boy”, he repeated, his voice filled with wonder. “We’re having a son”.

Your heart skipped a beat as Dean kissed your forehead, his touch filled with tenderness and love. The reality of the moment settled over you both, bringing a wave of emotions. Dean’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he started to ramble.

“I’m gonna teach him everything, Y/N”, Dean said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “How to fix cars, hunt mons-… well, maybe not that part right away—but, you know, the important stuff. How to ride a bike, play baseball. We’ll do all of it”.

You chuckled softly, feeling the warmth of his excitement. “He’s going to be one lucky kid”, you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “And he’s going to have the best dad in the world”.

Dean’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand still resting on your belly. “And he’s got the best mom already”, he said, his voice filled with sincerity.

The doctor finished the ultrasound, printing out a few pictures for you to keep. As you left the office, Dean kept looking at the photos, a big grin on his face. He was practically radiating happiness, and it was contagious.

Back at the bunker, Sam was waiting anxiously for news. When he saw your faces, he knew immediately that it was good news. “Well?”, he asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

Dean grinned stupidly, pulling an ultrasound picture out of his pocket and handing it to Sam. “Look at that”, Dean said, pointing to the unmistakable detail on the image. “Baby’s taking right after his old man”.

Sam looked at the picture, then back at Dean, and burst out laughing. “Oh, geez, Dean. Already comparing?”.

Dean shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. “Hey, can’t help it. It’s in the genes”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile at their antics. “Okay, boys, let’s not get too carried away”, you said, taking the picture back from Sam.

Dean quickly snatched the picture out of your hands. “Nuh uh, that’s mine”, he said with a grin. “You’ve got enough of these already”.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, fine. But you better not lose it”.

Dean held the picture up like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Don’t worry, this one’s going in a frame. Right next to my bed”.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down. “You know, Dean, you’re already the embarrassing dad, and the kid isn’t even born yet”.

Dean shrugged, unbothered by the teasing. “Hey, if I’m gonna be a dad, I might as well go all in, right?”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your heart at Dean’s enthusiasm. Despite everything, it was moments like this that reminded you of why you fell in love with him in the first place. His genuine excitement and commitment to being a good father made you believe that, together, you could make this work.

As the evening continued, the three of you spent time discussing plans for the nursery, potential baby names, and sharing stories about your own childhoods. The conversation flowed easily, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of normalcy and hope.

Later that evening, when Sam was already asleep, Dean wandered into your bathroom, laptop in hand, and a furniture online shop for babies open on the screen. He was about to ask you which color you preferred for the nursery when he saw what you were doing. You stood there in front of the mirror, wearing only your panties, lotion on your hands as you gently rubbed your belly.

Both of you froze slightly, caught off guard by the sudden intimacy of the moment. Dean’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, the glow of the bathroom light highlighting your pregnancy in a way that made his heart swell with emotion.

“Sorry”, he mumbled, breaking the silence, “I didn’t mean to interrupt”.

You gave him a small smile, your cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. “It’s to prevent stretch marks”, you mumbled, looking down at your lotion-loaded hands.

Dean took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you… uhm.. want some help?”, he asked softly, his voice full of genuine care and concern.

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, handing him the bottle of lotion. Dean took it from you, squeezing some into his hands before rubbing them together. He moved behind you, his hands gently gliding over your belly, applying the lotion with careful, soothing strokes.

The warmth of his touch and his closeness sent shivers down your spine, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax into the moment. Dean’s hands moved with a tenderness that made your heart ache with both love and longing.

“You’re doing great, you know”, Dean murmured, his voice low and comforting. “For a twenty-one-year-old, you’re handling this situation pretty well”.

His hands continued their slow, soothing movements, inching upwards as he applied more lotion. His gaze shifted through the mirror, lingering on your swollen breasts. There was an intensity in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and desire that made your breath catch.

You felt your cheeks flush again, a warm, tingling sensation spreading through you. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, yet it felt strangely comforting. Dean’s touch was both tender and reassuring, grounding you in a way that made you feel safe and cherished.

His hands moved a bit higher, grazing the underside of your breasts, and you shivered at the touch. The sensation was both soothing and electrifying, stirring a desire that you had tried to keep at bay.

“Dean…”, you began again, your voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

He paused, his eyes locking onto yours in the mirror. “Do you want me to stop?”.

You shook your head slightly, your heart pounding. “No. I just… it feels… good”.

Dean’s lips curved into a small, tender smile. “Good”, he whispered, his hands resuming their gentle caresses. “Just tell me if it’s too much”.

You nodded, your body relaxing into his touch as he continued to massage the lotion into your skin. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the warmth of his hands, made you feel closer to him than ever before.

Dean leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder. His breath was warm against your skin, and the sensation sent a shiver down your spine. He nestled his face against your back, hiding his face, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands continued their journey upwards, finally reaching your breasts. He cupped them gently, his fingers squeezing ever so slightly.

You let out a soft gasp, the combination of his touch and the intimacy of the moment overwhelming your senses. Your body arched slightly, pressing into his hands, seeking more of the comforting pressure. Dean responded by increasing the intensity of his touch, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples.

“Dean…”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and vulnerability.

“I’ve got you”, he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing soft kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Just relax”.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the sensations. Dean’s hands moved with a tender confidence, exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. The warmth of his touch, combined with the softness of his kisses, created a cocoon of safety and affection around you.

As his hands continued to caress your breasts, you felt a growing warmth between your legs. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness and connection, was stoking a fire within you that was impossible to ignore.

“Dean, I…”, you began, struggling to find the words to express the swirling emotions inside you.

He paused, lifting his head to look at you in the mirror. “What is it, Y/N?”, he asked gently, his eyes filled with concern and love.

“I need you”, you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

That was all Dean needed to hear. He kissed your shoulder again, his touch firm but gentle as he guided you toward the sink. His hands pressed softly against your back, urging you to bend over slightly. You complied, your hands gripping the edge of the sink for support as you leaned forward.

Dean positioned himself behind you, his hands sliding down your sides, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through you. He pressed a kiss to the small of your back, his breath warm against your skin, before he straightened up and moved closer.

The intimacy of the moment was heightened by the reflection in the mirror, allowing you to see every movement, every expression. Dean’s eyes were dark with desire as he met your gaze in the mirror, his hands steady as they caressed your hips.

“You’re so beautiful”, he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. He ran his fingers along the waistband of your panties, gently tugging them down until they fell to the floor. His hands returned to your hips, guiding you into position.

Dean’s gaze never left yours in the mirror as he reached down to unbuckle his belt, the sound of metal and fabric shifting filling the intimate space. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his erection, his eyes darkening with desire.

With a firm yet gentle grip on your hips, he positioned himself at your entrance, taking a moment to savor the anticipation. The heat between you was palpable, an electric connection that seemed to hum in the air.

He slowly pushed into you, the sensation of him filling you inch by inch making you gasp softly. The stretch was exquisite, a mixture of pleasure and intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Dean’s hands tightened on your hips, his breath hitching as he fully seated himself inside you.

For a moment, he stayed still, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. His eyes locked onto yours in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze reflecting the depth of his feelings.

“You okay?”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, your breath coming in soft pants. “Yeah, I’m okay”, you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Dean’s movements were slow and deliberate, each thrust carefully measured to bring you both higher into a shared ecstasy. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the controlled power behind each movement. His eyes never left yours in the mirror, a silent communication of desire and connection passing between you.

As he moved within you, the sensation built gradually, a slow burn that spread through your body, intensifying with each thrust. Dean’s grip on your hips was firm but gentle, his fingers pressing into your flesh in a way that grounded you in the moment.

“Fuck, you feel amazing”, Dean murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. His words sent a shiver through you, adding another layer to the pleasure that was building inside you.

You arched your back slightly, pushing back against him, feeling him deeper. The angle intensified the sensations, and you moaned softly, your body responding instinctively to his movements. Dean’s hands slid up your sides, tracing the curve of your body before coming to rest on your breasts. He cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp.

“Dean”, you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve got you”, he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

Dean’s words sent a fresh wave of desire through you, and you shivered at the intimacy of his whisper. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every breath shared amplifying the intensity of the moment.

His rhythm was steady, his movements confident yet tender. Each thrust was deep and purposeful, building the pleasure slowly, allowing it to simmer and grow. You could feel every inch of him inside you, filling you completely, and the sensation was overwhelming in the best way.

Dean’s hands continued their exploration of your body, moving from your breasts to your sides, then down to your hips again. His touch was both possessive and gentle, as if he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin. He leaned in closer, his chest pressing against your back, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

His hands slid around to your front, one resting on your belly, a reminder of the life growing inside you, while the other moved lower, finding your clit with practiced ease.

You gasped at the added sensation, your body responding immediately to his touch. Dean’s fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, a delicious tension building inside you with every movement.

“Dean, please”, you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. The need in your voice was clear, and Dean responded with a renewed intensity.

His thrusts grew slightly faster, deeper, and his fingers on your clit moved with a focused precision. The combination was driving you wild, every nerve ending in your body alive with sensation. You could feel the pleasure building to a peak, a tidal wave of ecstasy that threatened to overwhelm you.

Dean’s eyes never left yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and filled with love. “Let go, Y/N”, he whispered, his voice a rough command.

With those words, you felt yourself tip over the edge. The orgasm crashed over you, a powerful wave of pleasure that left you trembling and gasping. Dean continued to move, drawing out your climax, his own breath coming in ragged gasps as he followed you into bliss.

You could feel him tense behind you, his grip on your hips tightening as he found his release. The sensation of him filling you, the warmth and connection, was almost too much to bear. You both rode the waves of pleasure together, your bodies perfectly in sync.

As the intensity began to fade, Dean’s movements slowed, his touch returning to a gentle caress. His lips brushed against your shoulder, trailing kisses up to your neck. You both stayed connected, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Gently, he eased out of you, his hands still holding you close. He helped you turn around, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or regret. Seeing none, he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and love. Dean’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, his touch grounding you.

“You´re okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I’m okay. Better than okay”.

Dean’s eyes softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “Need help getting cleaned up?”, he whispered, his voice tender and caring.

You shook your head, still smiling. “No, I think I can manage. Thanks”.

Dean nodded, slowly pulling his jeans back up and fastening his belt. He gave you one last, lingering kiss on your forehead before stepping back, allowing you some space. You turned towards the sink, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather yourself.

As you cleaned up, Dean quietly stepped out of the bathroom. He picked up the laptop and made his way to your bedroom, where he settled onto the edge of the bed, waiting for you. His thoughts raced, but he felt a sense of calm knowing that the intimacy you had just shared had brought you closer.

When you finished, you dried your hands and took one last look in the mirror, feeling a mixture of contentment and anticipation. You knew there were still many things to discuss and work through, but for the moment, you felt a sense of peace.

You walked into the bedroom, finding Dean sitting on the bed with the laptop open on his lap. He looked up as you entered, his eyes lighting up with a warm smile. “Feeling better?”, he asked softly.

You nodded, returning his smile. “Yeah, much better. Thanks”.

Dean’s eyes followed your movements as you got some pajamas and began dressing. He couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for you. Even though he had never thought it was possible, seeing you carrying his baby made you even more beautiful in his eyes.

He marveled at the way you moved, the gentle curve of your belly, and the strength you showed in every action. It was a sight that filled him with a mixture of awe and pride.

As you pulled on your pajama top, you caught Dean watching you. His expression was soft and filled with an intensity that made your heart flutter. You smiled, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks. “What?”, you asked, your voice playful.

Dean shook his head, his smile widening. “Nothing”.

You sat down beside him, snatching the laptop off his lap and setting it aside. “Nothing, huh?”, you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. “Okay, maybe not nothing”, he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’ve just been thinking… about everything. About us”.

You bit your lip, curious and slightly nervous about where this conversation was going. “What about us?”.

Dean hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he spoke up. “I’ve been wondering if we can handle this”, he said quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “Just having sex and all that stuff without being in love with each other”.

His words hung in the air, and you felt a knot form in your stomach. You looked away, trying to gather your thoughts. It was a question you had been asking yourself too, but hearing it from Dean made it all the more real.

The truth was, you both had feelings for each other, but both of you thought the other didn’t feel the same way. It was a delicate dance of unspoken emotions, each of you afraid to take the first step. The uncertainty was maddening, but neither of you wanted to risk the fragile peace you just had found.

You sighed, looking back at Dean, your heart heavy with the weight of your unspoken feelings. “Maybe we should just wait and see”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “Take things one day at a time and figure it out as we go”.

Dean nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and sadness. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. We don’t have to rush into anything. We’ll take it slow, see where things go”.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the uncertainty still lingering but tempered by a mutual understanding. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start.

After a while, you broke the silence, wanting to shift the focus to something more positive. “So, about those colors for the nursery”, you said, your voice soft but curious. “Do you want to show me what you’ve been looking at?”.

Dean’s face brightened at your question, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah”, he replied, grabbing the laptop again. He opened the tab he had left on, showing various color schemes and furniture options for the nursery.

You scooted closer to him, your shoulders touching as you both looked at the screen. Dean pointed out a few color combinations he liked, explaining why he thought they would be perfect for the baby’s room. You found yourself getting caught up in his excitement, the mundane task of choosing nursery colors providing a much-needed distraction from the heavier topics.

“What do you think of this one?”, Dean asked, showing you a soft, calming palette of light blues and greys with matching furniture. “I thought it’d be nice and soothing for the baby”.

You smiled, nodding in agreement. “I like it. It’s peaceful”.

Dean grinned, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Great!".

The evening stretched on, filled with laughter and light-hearted conversation. Dean’s presence, his dedication to making things work, and the simple act of planning for your baby’s all combined to create a sense of hope and possibility.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 6

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