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reminiscingthesea · 3 days ago

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Synopsis (finally spelt it right)- Yandere popular Phainon x Nerdy loser reader who thinks no one likes her… mmmmmghhhh..

A/N- Tysm for the support on my last fic!! The ending was kinda rushed LAWL😓 I had to go out that day and I didn’t wanna leave it unfinished 🧍🏽‍♀️ set in college au btw

Warning- Stalking, mentions of violence and gore, self deprecating thoughts, sexual thoughts, reader is such a loser tbh…

What did it mean to be alone? Did it mean you’d have nobody around you for comfort? Did it mean you were just an invisible speck of dust in the eyes of everyone around you? Were you truly lovable? Would you die alone?

These were all questions you grew quite familiar with the existence of, as they’d live in your mind rent free, propagating at the sight of love and passion in the world around you. It hurt, of course it did. Knowing you would never experience such luxuries.

But over time, you grew used to it. You grew used to the silent murmur of degrading thoughts, that lingered at the back of your head, only growing in volume slightly as you’d pass by some random couple cooped up in the lone corner of the library, away from prying eyes besides your own, making out passionately behind a bookshelf, such as right now.

Groaning at the filthy, public display of affection, you kicked off your seat, holding your heavy books to your chest, slinging your backpack filled -with even heavier books- over your shoulder, and making your way out your once safe haven of literature and knowledge, which was now dominated by lust. You didn’t wanna think of what that couple may be doing now, with nobody around. As you walked, those thoughts that would ring in your head somehow got louder, it was unbearable for some odd reason- but not enough for you to collapse or anything- but just enough for you to lose focus, causing you to collide with something hard and firm, resulting in you tripping up pathetically and dropping your books with a slight gasp.

“S-sorry-“ You whispered apologetically realising what you had bumped into wasn’t a wall, but a person. Nervousness seeped into your voice as you frantically reached to pick up your books, that were now spread out across the floor, with desperate hands.

“Oh god, are you hurt?? Do you need me to take you to the nurse’s office?” Called out a gentle, handsome voice as their shadow grew smaller, the sight of pale, large- but bony hands- reaching out to hold your shoulder, gazing into your eyes with worry, which were fixated onto the floor in embarrassment.

“I’m fine I-“ Your words were cut short once your head had finally lifted up to meet with his. Your eyes locked onto his, which were dominated with a beautiful hue of azure blue, with small yellow pupils that resembled the sun. You felt your face heating up at the very close distance between your nose and his, glancing away shyly. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” You’d say meekly, trying to get up, but feeling something heavy weigh you down. You forgot about that heavy bag you carried. You then heard a soft chuckle, that reverberated nicely through your ear due to the close contact.

“You sure? That bag of yours seems to be holding you down a bit. Here, lemme carry it for you.” Without a second thought, he effortlessly unhooked your bag’s strap around your shoulder, and lifted it up, as if it weighed nothing. The loss of weight made you think more clearly, as you managed to grab all your books and smaller trinkets in quicker succession. You felt his large, warm palm on your back as he coaxed you to stand up slowly, following through just as gently.

“We can go to my dorm room and you could just drop my bag off for me there, if that’s okay with you..” You muttered quietly, avoiding his gaze, knowing it would only make you even more awkward if you kept your eyes on his. He beamed brightly at this, and although you weren’t looking at him, you could easily hear the innocent smile in his voice as he spoke.

“That’s fine with me! And don’t worry, I’m used to carrying heavier objects, so this is light work for me~” He exclaimed proudly, without a care in the world for whoever may hear his less-than-egotistical tone that boomed throughout the empty hallways. You thought it was.. cute. But there was a lingering feeling in you that secreted less-than-innocent thoughts into your mind. ‘God, could he carry you around like that with minimal effort, and boast about it for everyone to hear?’ You thought to yourself as the pair of you walked, growing closer to your dormitory. Once the dirtier thoughts dissipated away, another thought came.

“..Uhm, you’re Phainon, right? Captain of the sports team? Shouldn’t you be with your team training or something?” You asked curiously, now turning your head to look at him, having to tilt it upwards slightly to meet his gaze, due to the slight height difference between the two of you, which stirred even more sensations in you, that you tried to ignore as he spoke.

“Ah, training is cancelled for us today. One of my members was gravely injured a few nights prior, and I, as the sports captain, firmly believe that a good days training must include the whole squad. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to critic each other, and build stronger bonds between us all equally!” Phainon declared virtuously, holding his head up high with his eyes closed, a hand over his heart. At this, you giggled softly, admiring his show of righteousness and dedication to his team.

“They must feel so lucky to have such a strong-willed captain such as yourself, who cares so much about his teammates, Phainon..” You admitted gently, before wanting to take it all back as you realised how corny you may have sounded. Gosh, you couldn’t even form a proper compliment. Was he creeped out by you now? Did you make him cringe? Did he find you weird now?

Amidst your internal turmoil, Phainon laughed quietly, a faint pink flush spreading onto pale, slim cheeks, his voice now taking on a more shyer, sheepish tone as he began once more.

“You’re praising me too much here. I’m sure they’re more than happy to have me as their captain, I know I am. But I fear I’m sometimes a bit too encouraging at times, which may overwhelm them a bit. I’m working on it though!”

To that, you smiled at him sympathetically, acknowledging his worries as he now had his face down turned and away from yours.

“I’m not the best at comforting, but if you’re worrying too much about how you’re training your team mates, then maybe that’s a good thing, y’know? Worrying about things like this just means you’re worrying out of good will, which shows that you truly care. I’m more than certain your team mates are aware of this, but if it’s bothering you so much, why don’t you talk to them about it? I’m sure they’d understand.” You spoke calmly, the words flowing out your mouth with precision. As you said, you weren’t the best at comforting another person, you couldn’t even help yourself, but the topic of bad thoughts and feelings was something you knew like the back of your hand, so why not at least try to comfort someone on a topic you knew so well?

“I.. thank you. I guess I never saw it that way, I always thought my worries were a product of my own faults, which in turn, would make me even more worried.” He admitted lightly, his voice becoming less pronounced and more relaxed, which was short lived as he continued yet again, tone now taking up a more teasing lilt. “..Though, I didn’t take someone as quiet as you to be such a smooth talker. You’ve got a way with words, that’s for sure. I almost thought my heart was about to jump out and end me right there!” He grinned, his expression becoming less somber, and more playful as he teased you, monitoring your own expression shifting from one of pity, to one of surprise.

“You’re just teasing me now.. I’m really not that good with words. I just know how it feels to be overwhelmed with such thoughts, I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through that, especially someone as hardworking as yourself.”

As you both drew to the entrance of your room’s door, which was situated in a lone corner of the campus, where other quiet kids liked to stay, he flashed you a boyish, toothy grin.

“Hmm, say what you want. It’s always the quiet ones who shock us louder ones with their words the most. Oh! I forgot to ask you for your name, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m [Name]. Uh, I like to study literature and ancient texts, but I major in science. Not that you needed to know all of that anyways.” You answered absentmindedly as you fumbled with your key in the door’s lock hole, opening it quietly, picking up your bag and looking at him.

“Oh, no way! I also like to study ancient texts! I major in history, so we have something in common! Here, I’ll give you my number, we can chat more frequently!!” He chirped happily, quickly swiping a pen from his pant’s pocket and grabbing your hand, scribbling his number messily onto your palm.

“Our schedules may be different, but I’ll still look for time to talk to you, [Name]. I gotta run though, I have an essay to complete for Professor Anaxa..” Dullness and gloom creeped into his tone as he rolled his eyes, which you could only copy. Professor Anaxa- or Anaxagoras as he liked it- was definitely someone you’re glad didn’t teach practical science, and instead, theoretical and spiritual science, as well as history.

“I can imagine that.. anyways, bye Phainon! I’ll add you later.” You waved him goodbye, before disappearing into your dorm and shutting the door with a last smile to him, locking it securely.

‘Perfect.’ He thought to himself, as he began his journey back to his own dorm, his footsteps echoing through the hallway as he walked.

You sat at your desk at the peak time of exactly 3:58am in the morning, papers messily scattered across the wooden expanses, as pen met paper hastily, untidily. You were so unbelievably tired of being assigned research project after research project by your ever so cruel, demanding professor, who happened to be an even crueller teacher than Professor Anaxagoras, or Anaxa as Phainon liked to call him.

Speaking of Phainon, you had forgotten to add his number to your contact list. Getting up and walking over to your bedside to unplug your fully charged phone from its charger, you couldn’t help but notice something small and black on your bed’s headboard, just above where you’d rest your head on your pillow. Assuming it was just a mere bug, you flicked it away with your fingers, and opened your phone, adding Phainon’s number.

What you didn’t know, was that said ‘bug’ wasn’t gone.

Phainon leaned over his own desk, nervously looking at his computer screen as you stared at the camera he had placed to discreetly in the middle of one night. He was a mess, even messier than those papers that mapped out your desk, that were littered with scribbles and whatnot. Drenched in sweat, biting his nails whilst running another hand through his now matted, damp white locks, he stared in anticipation. It didn’t help how you also hadn’t added his phone number and messaged him hours prior. You must’ve hated him, he thought.

As you flicked the camera aimlessly and turned to your phone, he let out a long sigh of utmost relief, as if he weighed nothing, slumping back on his chair in solitude. He was at his desk all day after the two of you parted ways, he was glad he had a reason to, considering it would be more than suspicious if the captain of the sport’s team wasn’t at training today..

He reminisced shortly on the scene from last night, as he followed one of his members home from practice. Said member was giving you the dirtiest of looks a few days prior in a crowded hallway, laughing and making odd faces as you’d walk by. Phainon knew he just couldn’t let such a crime to unpunished, especially with that dejected, sad look on your face. Oh how he wanted to break his stupid teammate’s legs right then and there, and just bunch you up in his arms and take you away someplace else, comforting you and praising you gently whilst peppering kisses all over your sad face.. he wondered if you were into praise and manhandling , though, he did know that going for that route would mean carnage. So instead, he simply opted for just the first part instead, breaking that bastard’s knees of course!

He had cornered the unknowing guy in the middle of an alleyway from behind, and was clad in a dark black hoodie, with the inside of the hood being purple, dark pants, and black gloves to remove any DNA evidence from his bat if it was ever taken into custody. With one swift hand, he drove his bat hard against the other boy’s knees, which made him cry out and fall. To avoid raising suspicions, he bent over the figure and hit him harder, whilst digging his shoe over his mouth, silencing him effectively. Once his legs were on the verge of breaking, as he checked by roughly twisting them with his free foot to check for any fractures, he bent down further, lifting him up by his shirt’s collar.

“You wanna talk shit about my [Name]? I’ll cut your tongue off clean and shove it down your throat like the mangy dog you are. And I know where you live, and I also happen to know that your stupid little sister’s being bullied. We wouldn’t want her bullies to go further, would we? So keep your mouth shut, unless you want to see her hanging from her ceiling tomorrow.” His voice was muffled, due to the hoodie’s collar covering his mouth. With a swift kick to his face, he concealed his bat and started walking off into the night, making it back to the campus and sneaking in through his window, to avoid raising any suspicions.

Back to the current moment, he let out an involuntary moan, as he felt something warm and gooey coat his shorts. He chuckled softly as he lifted them up, seeing the white expanse of his cum coating his underwear and shorts, as well as his big, lengthy cock, his angry tip pulsating and spewing out more cum somehow. He gently rubbed his thumb against his tip.

“Tsk.. I’ve made such a mess.. if only you were here, [Name]. You’d look so sweet cleaning this mess up you made me make.. I bet you’d be so fucking loud too, gagging and choking over me.” He spoke reverently, imagining you sucking his dick lovingly, on your knees and looking up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, his cock spreading open your lips. Oh, how he wished his cock could spread open both sets of your lips.. With a sigh, he peeled off his bottoms and carried them into his bathroom, along with his phone. Setting his phone aside, he piled his boxers and shorts with his other dirty clothes in the laundry basket by his cupboards, before hopping into the shower to draw some cold water from the shower head, but not before placing his phone in a safe corner, away from any water, just to watch you on an app that could also monitor your activities through that camera placed in your room, that had, by miracle, not flung to a dusty corner of your room as you flicked it away with no thought. It was definitely reliable, to say the least. Being able to watch you from anywhere was most certainly a good pastime.

Anxiousness creeped into your mind as you were thinking of a message to send Phainon. Would you be nonchalant? Overly sweet? Funny?? Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you thought of a message to send him, before finally tapping the appropriate keys for each word in your message.

“Hi Phainon!! I’m really sorry I didn’t add your number before, I was really cooped up with work and assignments, so I didn’t get the chance to contact you earlier today!”

You anxiously waited for a reply, but didn’t get one for a few minutes. Thoughts lingered in your head- Was he asleep? Was he airing you on purpose for not messaging him sooner? Was he angry at you? Did he find you annoying? Were you just a charity case?-

Your endless supply of thoughts came to a sudden halt as you heard the nice ‘ding!’ of your phone, and his message pop up at the top of your screen in banner form.

“Hey [Name] !! It’s completely fine, I was busy too with my own affairs, so you’re not to blame! I will admit, I was still a bit upset when I didn’t receive any response or notification of a message from you tho… (*´Д｀*)…”

The usage of those deathly adorable emoticons, and his ‘texting language’ in his message made you coo and squeal in delight, you didn’t think such a popular, charming guy would use such displays in his texts. Though, he was quite bubbly in real life too. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d also use these cute emoticons with his friends as you typed out your response message.

“Omg I’m so sorry! :(( I’ll make up for it, I swear. Idk how, but I will!! 😼 And btw, that emoticon was so cute!! I didn’t think someone like you would use them!”

“Haha, I do like to use them from time to time. They really capture how I feel yk? Typical emojis don’t exactly cut it for me (＞人＜;)..”

Before you could write your own reply back, he sent another message in quick succession.

“Besides, someone as cute as you deserves to be spoken to in equally as cute ways ^_−☆”

At this, you flushed greatly and fell onto your bed, kicking your feet and burying your face into your pillow. There was absolutely no way in hell such a popular guy just called some loser like you cute! But he did complement your manner of speech a lot earlier… Despite feeling so cringed out in the moment, you also simply couldn’t help but feel like a lovesick fool, fantasising about being his girlfriend, what it would be like.

“Oh wow, thanks Phainon. I honestly don’t know what to say- I’ve never been spoken to like this before 😭 ty tho, I really appreciate it. :))” You sent back quickly, not caring how corny or stupid you may have sounded with that text, simply focusing on a life with Phainon as his girlfriend, walking hand in hand after games.. going on romantic dates.. him saving you from the clutches of your dark thoughts..

“Aww, I’m surprised nobody’s ever spoken the truth! Well, I’m here now, and I’ll 100% make sure you know your worth!! Anyways, you better get to sleep, or I’ll drag myself back to your dorm and put you to sleep myself ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ !”

“Okay I willlll dw!! I’m putting my assignments away as we speak- or type. My stupid prof assigns sm work everyday! Now I’m regretting ever thinking poorly of Prof Anaxagoras, I’d rather have him! 😞💔 Anyways, to avoid your wrath, I’ll go to sleep, but you better too! Ik I said you’re a good team captain, but even captains need good rest too!! Goodnight!”

Phainon laughed huskily at the sight of you blushing and kicking your feet on your bed at his message, as he rewatched the recorded footage on his phone- since he was busy washing himself up-. He had meant every word in his message, no denying that. You were the sweetest, most cutest thing he had ever come across in his life before, and it was his duty to make that known to you. Albeit, it was difficult at first, considering how distant the two of you were, regarding classes, cliques, personal schedules and whatnot. But now, he had done it, and he had definitely implemented himself into your mind. But he didn’t want to assume he was fully in control, that just didn’t sit right with him. Because although he had made you swoon, you were truly the owner of his heart.

As he made himself comfortable in his own bed, after having cleaned himself and his room up, now watching the live footage from your room. You were indeed curled up in your bed, as he watched from the sneaky camera on your headboard. The camera had night-light vision, so he could easily see your soft, peaceful sleeping face. Your lashes fluttered gently over your soft cheeks, oh, how he wanted to squish your face so hard ‘til it’d burst.. he’s sure confetti and glitter would come out !

Alas, he himself put his phone down, keeping it next to his head on his pillow. He had only your notifications on, in case you were in a life threatening emergency, and required his knightly aid. He felt himself drifting off, his face pressed against the cloth of his pillow, which was actually one of your old t-shirts, that was coated with your scent, as if it was sewn in along with the cloth.. Your scent, the memories of today- and yesterday-, made him sleep like a baby reborn, a sweet smile gracing his features.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr men #phainon x reader #yandere phainon #yandere phainon x reader #hsr x reader #phainon #phainon hsr #yandere

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sourkiki · 2 days ago

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husband!hee who eats out the reader like a man starved since she’s overstimulated from looking after the kids all week 🥲

ALBUM'S CONTENT: explicit mature content, married relationship, dom! husband! 이희승 x fem! reader face-sitting fingering pussy eating ❀ heeseung being kinda nasty here 𖤐 655 ... ᧔♡᧓ catalogue.

FROM PRODUCER: another one for the husband! hee agenda ><

“Heeseung.. are you sure about this?” You asked for the unknown time, biting on your lip as you looked down at your husband, who’s determined to get what he wants.

He grinned at you, eyes gleaming with excitement and desire—the sight enough to make you clenched down on nothing. With one final shaky exhale, you held onto the bed frame and slowly lowered yourself. Only for Heeseung to grab you by your thighs, making you sit on his face squarely without hesitation.

“Hee—fuck!” You attempted to protest but your mind blanked out when his tongue darted out, licking along your dripping, puffy folds.

Heeseung audibly groaned, burying his face deeper into your soaking wet pussy, the sound sending vibrations and shivers down your spine. “Shit, you’re dripping like a fucking faucet princess. Bet you’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”

You could only let out a pitiful mewl, back arching from where you sat as your husband parted your folds with his fingers, plunging his tongue deeper inside as he ran it along your gummy walls. Your thighs spasmed, locking his head in place when he pushes two fingers in without warning. You wanted to loosen your grip but Heeseung had a different idea.

He clicked his tongue when you tried to pull away, detaching his mouth from your pussy. You gulped at the visible sight of a thick, white string mixed with your slick and his saliva, snapping into half. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes and Heeseung was already nearly gone. His lips and chin glistened underneath the ceiling light, strays of red hair sticking to his forehead covered in a layer of sweat.

“Nuh uh, don’t try to run from me, darling. You’re going to sit on my face like the good girl you are, alright? Lemme reward you for taking good care of the kids,” he purred, voice lowering an octave.

“H-Hee, fuck, please,” you begged, rolling your hips against his nose, eyes rolling up to the back of your head at how it perfectly aligns with your cunt.

If there’s one thing about Heeseung, it's that he loves to spoil you. Hence, he dived back in, alternating between kitten licks and long, fat stripes of his tongue while pushing his fingers in and out of you. The double penetration of his tongue and fingers made your body tremble as you sat on his face. Moans, whimpers and chants of his name endlessly spill from your lips. The obscene sound of him slurping your juices like a greedy dog along with squelching from his fingers pushing in and out of you bounces amongst the four walls.

You nearly let out a high-pitched moan but you remembered that your precious children are sleeping peacefully, right in the room beside yours. Which was why you slapped a hand over your mouth, looking down to see Heeseung smirked.

“Don’t cover your mouth. Lemme hear you fall apart,” he murmured, lips ghosting against the bud peeking out from the hood.

The final straw comes in the form of Heeseung sucking on the bud, drawing a whiny and downright most porngraphic moan you’ve made as you squirted all over his face. Hot, transparent liquid frantically gushes from your pussy. Once again, you tried to pull away but Heeseung was stubborn. He held you down, lapping them up like a kitten lapping at its plate of water. Your thighs were trembling by the time you calmed down.

Heeseung gently maneuvered you away, placing you down on the sheets. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, slipping his soaked fingers into his mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. Your face burned at the lewd sight as he maintained eye contact with you the entire time.

“You taste amazing as always. Must be from running around while taking care of the kids,” he teased, laughing when you flung a pillow at his face.

“Heeseung!”

tags list: @chuhees, @byshens, @hoonstqr, @doucious, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @onlyywwon, @minjunis.

#ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⸺ 情书 .ೃ࿐#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha x reader #enha smut #enha imagines #enhypen smut #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x y/n #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #heeseung smut

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 2 days ago

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Bob Floyd X Reader: Drunk words, sober truths.

Summary: After one too many drinks, you drunkenly confess your feelings to Bob. The next morning smut ensues. That it guys, thats the plot.

Warnings: Porn with some plot, Smut, explicit sexual content, kissing, physical intimacy, alcohol consumption, drunkenness, dirty thoughts, consensual sexual activity, drunken confessions, no use of y/n, penetration (p in v), Bob being adorable.

Word count: 3.7K

You weren’t drunk.

Okay, maybe a little bit.

Maybe one glass too many. But hey, that’s okay, because your brain still seemed to be functioning just fine. Unfortunately, the only thought currently echoing inside your head was: dick, dick, dick.

So yeah. Maybe one too many.

In your defense, Bob looked really fucking good tonight. The fucking jeans were teasing you, messing with your brain and begging you to let the crush you’d been harboring for the man for ages slip from your not-so-sober lips.

It hadn’t yet. But the night was still quite young. And you were feeling very comfortable in your skin.

You sat on a stool, sipping on the fifth… wait, no, sixth. Was it the sixth? Whatever. You sipped a beer, watching the crew play pool. You were normally very good, but you were sitting this game out. You weren’t sure you’d be able to keep your balance well enough to score a shot. And you weren’t the type that played not to win.

Your eyes slipped from the pool table to a far more interesting sight.

Bob Floyd’s ass.

It wasn’t your fault that he’d literally placed himself in your line of sight. You barely had to move your head. His ass was just on display for you. You knew it wasn’t intentional—of course you knew that. He was lining up a shot that just happened to be right in front of you.

But you weren’t one to waste the universe’s gifts.

So you let your eyes latch onto Bob Floyd’s perfectly round ass. It was probably obvious to anyone who looked at you that you were staring. Luckily, no one was paying attention to you at the moment.

Well, almost no one.

You heard a soft snicker beside you, head turning slightly toward the sound. Phoenix watched you, a small smirk on her face. She knew all about your major crush on Bob. She had the unfortunate role of being the friend who had to listen as you gushed over the pilot every chance you got. But Phoenix was a good friend, and she knew to stay out of other people’s business.

That did not mean she wouldn’t tease you when the opportunity presented itself.

“You alright there?”

The rest of the crew’s heads turned toward you. Everyone’s gaze had shifted—including Bob’s.

You felt the blush that suddenly coated your cheeks. You could feel Bob’s eyes on you, but yours stayed glued to Phoenix. She just gave you a sly smile, knowing damn well what she’d just done. You were going to make her pay for that one day.

“I’m fine.”

It came out a bit slurred. A bit too high-pitched.

Someone laughed.

You didn’t pay them any mind, gaze still glued to Phoenix as you gave her a small grimace of a look.

And then you felt something warm on your shoulder.

Your head turned to look at what it was. Your eyes trailed up the hand currently resting on your shoulder, searching for its owner.

Your breath nearly gave out when you were greeted by the sight of Bob. His face was full of barely restrained concern, glasses slightly slipping off his nose as he stared at you with kind eyes.

“Hey.”

The word slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

Bob gave you a soft smile, the hand that wasn’t holding onto you moving to push his glasses up. It was such a simple act, but it still made your heart flutter.

“Hi.”

Time seemed to slow down. The sound of his voice was like velvet. You wanted to be buried inside it.

Wanted him to be buried inside you.

Whoa. Okay. Drunk thought.

But a very persistent one. Even in your sober moments.

Luckily, you still had enough control over your brain to not let the thought slip out of your mouth. You just stared at Bob for a moment. Someone had said something, but you weren’t listening. You only noticed because Bob’s head had snapped toward the speaker.

You had a perfect view of his side profile. A glorious sight of his perfect nose.

What would it be like to sit on it?

God, you really needed to get some water in your body. The thoughts were becoming more and more unfiltered with every second. Soon, you’d let something slip. And then you’d die of embarrassment.

You bit your lip, forcing your mouth to stay shut.

“What do you think?”

Bob was talking to you again. You stared at him, confused. What did you think of what?

“Don’t think she was listening, Bob.”

That came from Hangman. Your eyes flitted over to him, catching on the teasing smile he wore. You had the urge to flip him off, but you stayed still.

“Hey.”

Your eyes moved back to Bob’s face as he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Maybe that would be best. You were clearly hanging on by a thread. And maybe if you did slip—which you were pretty sure would happen eventually—you’d at least be alone.

Alone with Bob.

You practically shivered at the thought.

Because you couldn’t trust your mouth to open and say anything other than ‘I love you’ , you opted to nod your head.

Bob smiled at you.

“Okay then. Here, hold onto me.”

“Not that drunk.”

But you still held onto him. Because he’d offered. And because it meant he would be closer to you. Bob had said goodbye to everyone. You’d followed with a drunken wave.

And then the two of you were off.

The whole drive home, you stared out the window. If you looked at Bob, you’d start thinking dirty things. And that would make you want to do said dirty things.

But you didn’t want to scare Bob.

So you kept your eyes on the road.

You struggled to get your shoes off at the door. And Bob, being the gentle soul that he was, sank down to his knees to help you out.

You shook your head, trying to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.

It seemed to work pretty well.

Until it didn’t.

Bob had waited outside the bathroom as you changed. When you’d slipped back into the room, dressed in an oversized shirt, Bob came to help you to bed.

He handed you a pill and a glass of water. You took it without question. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t have a hangover tomorrow. But the odds were definitely not in your favor.

You chugged the water down before handing Bob the empty glass. He placed it on the nightstand before moving to tug the sheets over your body.

“Sleep tight.”

Bob moved to leave the room, but you grabbed his hand before he could take even a step away from the bed.

“You okay?”

His face was full of concern. You smiled up at him.

“You’re really sweet, Bob.”

“It’s not a big deal… really.”

You let out a soft hum, not letting go of his hand.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Bob smiled at the question.

“Sure.”

You gestured for him to come closer. He did as you asked, leaning down so your lips were right at his ear. He could feel your breath on his cheek.

“I think you’re really handsome.”

Bob's heart skipped a beat at the confession.

And then you kept going—

“I think about riding you all the time.”

Bob nearly had a heart attack.

You let go of his hand, settling into the sheets and closing your eyes.

Bob leaned back into an upright position, still staring at you with wide eyes.

But you were already fast asleep.

The sun slipped into the room through the curtains. You opened your eyes with a soft groan. Your eyes took a while to adjust to where you were. You rubbed at them, trying to ignore the soft pounding in your head.

Hangover.

Fantastic.

Honestly, it could have been worse. You were sure the headache would leave after some coffee. So you peeled yourself off the bed, feet padding against the floor as you made your way to the kitchen.

Small flashes of last night moved through your brain as you waited for the coffee to brew.

You bit your nails, trying to remember.

You remembered the bar. The drinks. Phoenix’s smug smile. Bob’s hand on your shoulder. His voice. That’s when a hazy memory flickered behind your eyes. A whisper. Something you said.

Something about Bob.

God, had you said something? You weren’t totally sure—but there was that gnawing, sinking feeling in your gut.

You were startled by a knock on the door. Instinctively, you glanced at the clock. 10 o’clock. Not bad, considering how late you’d gotten in last night.

But who would be at your door at such a time on a Sunday? You moved to grab your phone to check for messages. And that’s when it hit you.

Your phone.

You’d forgotten it at the bar.

You opened the door, and there he was. Bob Floyd, looking far too good for someone this early in the morning. He had your phone in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey,” he said, a little cautiously. “You, uh… forgot this.”

You reached for the phone, your fingers brushing his just slightly. He didn’t pull away. Neither did you.

“Thanks. I—yeah. Sorry.” You gave a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I didn’t even realize.”

Bob nodded once, then hesitated.

The kind of hesitation that meant he was thinking about something. The small feeling of dread crept back. Okay, so you’d definitely said something. Because sure, Bob was a shy guy, but this wasn’t his usual shyness. This was something else.

There was tension.

Even if you didn’t remember exactly what you’d said, Bob clearly did. Before you could think too much about it, you moved to the side of the door, allowing Bob to see into your house.

“You want coffee?” you asked. “I just made a pot. And you look like someone who’s already been up too long.”

Bob hesitated for a moment, fingers clenching and unclenching. Your heart raced. What the fuck had you said? But then he looked at you and gave you a soft smile.

“Sure. Yeah. Coffee sounds good.”

You let out a soft breath as he walked into the room.

Your hands shook slightly as you closed the door. Bob Floyd was inside your house. Bob Floyd knew something you couldn’t remember. You weren’t sure if you wanted to find out or not.

Bob settled at the kitchen table as you grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee. His eyes flicked toward you every so often, like he wanted to say something. You pretended not to notice, but your heart raced as you handed him his mug.

“One cream, two sugars.”

Bob’s eyes lit up slightly at your words. You’d remembered how he liked his coffee. He had only told you once, and you still remembered. It made something warm flicker in his chest.

“Thank you.”

You gave him a small smile. “Yeah, well… thanks for, you know, coming back with my phone.”

He nodded, fingers curling around the warm cup.

“Yeah. Figured you’d want it back sooner rather than later.”

You laughed softly, the sound a little too breathy.

“Yeah, definitely.”

There was a pause.

Bob cleared his throat. “About last night…”

Your heart skipped, but you didn’t look up. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean, you said some things.”

Your cheeks heated. “Did I?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything.”

You glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a brief second. “Honestly, I don’t even remember most of it.”

“Me neither,” he said with a small smile.

It was a complete lie, of course. He remembered your exact words. He remembered how you smelled, how warm your breath had been on his neck. He remembered going home and, much to his shame, lying in bed and taking care of his little problem while your voice echoed in his head.

“But I figured, if you’re sober now, maybe we could talk about it?”

You swallowed hard. “I’d like that.”

His smile grew warmer. “Good. Because I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

“No, me neither.”

The tension wasn’t gone, but it had dulled a bit. You were sure you’d be embarrassed by whatever had slipped through your lips. But you also knew Bob wouldn’t hold it against you.

You were adults. You could act like it.

You were not, however, prepared for what Bob was about to tell you. He had struggled for a moment, trying to be as gentle as possible. It was clear from his face that he was flustered. As soon as he told you what you’d said, you were sure you’d just died. Or at least you wished you were dead, because you could not handle this conversation. You were not adult enough for this.

You placed your mug on the table with more force than necessary, hands moving to cover your face as you whispered “fuck” repeatedly.

Bob felt bad. He had expected it to be weird—awkward, maybe. But he hadn’t expected you to almost start sobbing into your hands. He could tell you were having a hard time breathing, so before he could think better of it, he got up. He placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey. Look at me.”

You shook your head emphatically, hands still hiding you from his warm gaze. You’d have to quit. That was the only solution. You could not handle looking at Bob every day knowing you’d told him one of your dirtiest thoughts in a drunken daze.

Bob’s hands moved to grab yours. You tried to keep them where they were, but Bob was stronger than you. He pried your hands away from your face, holding your wrists gently together. You bowed your head, staring at the floor.

“Can you please look at me?”

Fuck him. Fuck him and his soft hands and velvet voice.

You lifted your head slowly, expecting to be met with pity or disgust, but that’s not what you found. When you finally looked at Bob’s face, he looked just as out of breath as you felt. He was so close that your noses were practically touching. And his eyes—his big, beautiful eyes—were almost black with desire.

You nearly choked on your own spit.

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

You breathed heavily, trying to think of what to say.

“Well, you know the phrase… drunk words, sober thoughts,” you said with a slightly pathetic laugh.

And then Bob’s hands shifted. He let go of your wrists, cupping your face with a speed that made your heart stutter. You barely managed to gasp out his name before his lips were on yours.

The kiss was all-consuming.

Bob’s body moved against yours as he deepened it, his mouth warm and sure. You groaned as your back hit the kitchen counter. Bob tried to pull back to apologize, but you didn’t let him. You tugged his head back to yours, tongue sliding over his lips. He opened his mouth to you, letting you explore. His hands moved to rest on your hips, his body pressing you firmly against the counter.

His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your sleep shirt like he was trying to ground himself. You could feel the tension in his arms, the restraint in the way he kissed you—like he wasn’t sure how far you wanted to go. Like he was holding back.

“Bob,” you breathed against his lips, your voice rough, “don’t hold back.”

That was all it took.

He groaned, deep and low in his chest, before lifting you effortlessly onto the counter. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, pulling him flush against you. You could feel him—hard and heavy through his jeans—and the contact made you whimper.

“You have no idea,” he muttered against your jaw, lips trailing down the side of your neck, “how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Then show me,” you whispered, fingers already tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Please.”

Bob didn’t need to be asked twice. He tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere behind him, and leaned back in to kiss you again—deeper this time, hungrier. His hands roamed, slipping under your shirt and dragging up slowly until your chest was bare to him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, reverent and breathless as he took you in.

He bent down, mouthing at the swell of your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple. You gasped, arching into him, needing more. You clawed your shirt completely off, whining as Bob continued to suck your breast. Your shirt fell somewhere near his but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Bob.

Bob and his perfect fucking mouth.

Your hands fumbled with his belt, desperate to get him out of his jeans. “Bob, I need—”

“I know,” he said, voice wrecked as he reached down to help you. “God, I know.”

You finally got his belt undone, yanking at his jeans until he helped you shove them down just enough to free him. Your eyes dipped down, and your breath caught. God, of course he was big. And thick. And flushed an angry shade of red, already leaking from the tip.

Bob groaned as your hand wrapped around him. It was the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. You just smiled and leaned forward to press your mouth to his neck, dragging your tongue over the pulse there. But then his hands were on your thighs, thumbs dragging over your waistband, eyes dark with heat.

“Wait,” he said, voice low and hoarse. “Let me taste you first.”

The way he said it—like it was a need, not a want—almost made you give in.

Almost.

Your fingers curled into his hair as you looked him dead in the eyes.

“Next time,” you whispered. “I need you inside me right now.”

Bob groaned, like the words physically hurt him, but he nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Just—fuck, come here.”

He should probably have taken your underwear off entirely. But you were both so impatient and the little bit of fabric wouldn’t affect his skills. So he tugged your underwear to the side with one hand and guided himself to your entrance with the other.

You were more than ready for him, slick and warm and aching. And when he finally pushed in—slowly, carefully—you both let out a sound that could only be described as relief.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

“You feel—fuck—” Bob gritted out, forehead pressed to yours. “So good. You feel so fucking good.”

He gave you a second to adjust, but you were already rolling your hips, desperate for more. That’s all he needed. He set a rhythm, hard and deep, his hands gripping your hips like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

Every thrust sent you back into the counter with a delicious thud. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. His name fell from your lips again and again, each time more breathless than the last.

“Hey,” he panted, causing you to look up at him, brows slightly furrowed with pleasure.

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he rasped, one hand sliding up your back to cradle your head.

He hit your G-spot, making you moan his name before nodding. Bob leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

“I touched myself to the thought of you last night. Couldn’t stop thinking about you on top of me.”

“Oh, fuck—Bob!”

It was so odd how sweet you found his confession. The entire thing was said in such a dirty manner, made even nastier by the sound of his dick spearing into you with every thrust. But you understood why he’d said it. It was his way of telling you he wanted you too.

Your eyes glossed over, head tilting back as you moaned. Bob latched onto your neck, sucking hickeys into the skin. He shifted his hips slightly, allowing him to hit a deeper angle—and you were fucking gone.

You came. Right there on the kitchen counter, gasping his name, clutching him like a lifeline as the orgasm ripped through you. Bob followed moments later, burying himself deep with a low, drawn-out groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Just heavy breaths and the rapid beat of two hearts trying to slow down. Bob’s fingers traced lazy circles along your back, grounding you both in the afterglow. He leaned down, lips brushing softly against your temple.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, voice husky with emotion and something deeper—admiration, maybe even awe.

You smiled weakly, breath still shaky. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

His hand slipped from your back to cup your cheek, thumb tracing over your flushed skin. “I want to take my time with you. Not just tonight.”

You met his gaze, heart pounding all over again. “Me too.”

Slowly, carefully, he helped you off the counter and into his arms, like you were the most precious thing in the world. You let him wind his arms around you, your bodies pressed in a tender hug. The sun shone brightly outside, but you paid no attention to it. You nestled into Bob's body, hearing his heart slow down as you two enjoyed each other's embrace.

“I’m never drinking again.”

Bob chuckled at your words, the vibration rippling through your body.

“I’m glad you did.”

You lifted your head off his chest, gazing into his eyes.

“Glad I got shitfaced and told you I thought about fucking you?”

Bob smiled again, his hand moving to push some hair off your face.

“I’m glad you feel the same way I do about you.”

It was your turn to smile now. You placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Of course I do, Bob. You’re easy to fall for.”

“And to ride, apparently.”

You gave him a soft slap, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“I don’t know. I never got actual experience. I just fantasize about it,” you teased.

“You wanna find out?”

You gave him your cheekiest smile.

“You bet I do.”

His hands found your waist again, pulling you close as a slow, knowing smile played across his lips. The promise in his eyes was impossible to miss, and you matched it with one of your own, full of mischief and anticipation.

The kitchen, the morning light, even the lingering scent of coffee—all faded away, leaving only the delicious tension between you two, teasing and ready to explode. Whatever came next, it was clear neither of you planned on letting this be the last time.

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taodarlington · 2 days ago

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YOU'RE SO DARK , arctic monkeys .ೃ࿐ bakugou katsuki

SYNOPSIS : you stole his clothes, so he steals your heart. and vice versa.

NOTES : ughh what is having a boyfriend like guys pls, no use of y/n, fluff

sharing (stealing) clothes with bakugou katsuki became the norm a few months after you had moved in to the heights alliance dorms.

it started when he had left his bomber jacket draped over your chair in a hurry to grab his phone from upstairs. you grew curious of it, and snatched it before he came back.

standing up, you put the jacket on, checking it out in the mirror. it was four sizes too big for you, fell past your wrists, and did its job of swallowing you whole. but the most prominent thing you had noticed about it was the scent. his scent. smoky, a bit like caramel, and enveloped in the warmth of a crisp autumn breeze.

when bakugou came back with his phone, he immediately noticed.

"you stealin' my clothes, now?" he scoffed with a click of his tongue, nudging the door closed with his foot. "scoot over."

and two hours later, when you were both laid on your bed, your head against his shoulder, he held up his phone and snapped a picture of you in the jacket before you could notice (he made it his lockscreen).

he didn't ask for it back. in fact, when you showed up at his door to return it, he tossed it back, grumbling at you to keep it.

and so, the jacket made a common appearance in your everyday lounge clothes. over time, other articles and garments showed up as well. a band shirt, a hoodie, even a pair of his basketball shorts.

one particular saturday, you picked out the jacket to find that the distinct scent disappeared. it no longer felt as warm as it used to when you wore it, and the jacket just felt as it was: a piece of fabric.

your solution? take it to bakugou. you rushed up to his dorm, knocking on his door with the jacket bundled up in your hands. when he opened the door for you, you pushed the jacket into his hands.

"wear it."

he gave you a confused, but not irritated look. "..what?"

"wear it. it doesn't smell like you anymore."

he didn't react, just shrugged the jacket on, but you could tell that there was a hint of flush at the tips of his ears.

when you came back for the jacket a week later, it smelled just like him again. smoky, caramel, and warm.

now, every time you felt that an article of clothing wasn't doing its job of reminding you of him anymore, you'd give it back to him for a few days, and then take it back when he had 'refreshed' it.

bakugou didn't complain, not even once. it was cute of you to bound over to his door every other day, asking for him to wear his own clothes again, he thought.

in a way, he saw it as a way to show you off. he'd smirk to himself every time someone noticed you wearing his clothes down in the lounge, ignoring any questions and simply scoffing as if it were common knowledge that you wore his clothes.

and he would never tell you this, but he loved when you would ask what cologne he wore. in truth, he didn't wear any, claiming for it to be a waste of money. so when you snooped around his room looking for a bottle, he told you without even glancing up from his homework that you'd never find any, much to your surprise.

bakugou katsuki sometimes stole your garments, too. he mostly just wore your scarf around when it got cold, but would occasionally walk in, grab an oversized t-shirt, and walk out without saying a word.

he liked how your clothes were always soft, like how you made his heart mushy and tart whenever you flashed that sweet smile of yours at him. because you were everything he wasn't. because you were his to hold, to cherish. whenever he caught sight of you, it's like you had cut up a piece of the sun for yourself to shine, everything else fading into the background.

bakugou katsuki has always known himself to be cold, but when he was bundled up in that fleece scarf of yours, breathing in the warmth of you, like how you did for him, he didn't mind it if his face flushed crimson and his pulse hammered through his body.

do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

masterlist ༊ requests

xoxo, tao

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girllblogging777 · 3 days ago

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JUST LIKE HEAVEN ౨ৎ

IN WHICH spencer and you had a one night stand, and he realises he truly loves you when you get shot on the field

it all happened too quickly.

so quickly, that you weren’t exactly sure what you were currently referring to. was it the BAU’s visit to the police department in which you worked, and their stupidly talented doctor reid, who’d somewhat lost his words the second you walked in ?

or was it the consequences of that wrongly assumed profile, delivered too quickly by the federal agents who’d refused to give more time to analyse the situation, and gotten themselves as well as your team into terrible danger ?

because these two events, although somewhat linked, had very different outcomes. one resulted in the presence of a certain brown haired genius in your bed, last night after work. and the other, in you being shot to the chest by the UNSUB.

maybe the point in common was the fact that you’d ended up in a horizontal position because of a man you barely knew.

twice.

but for very different reasons.

“agent down. we need medics !!!!!” you heard someone shout right in your ear, interrupting your inner monologue. damn, that sounded terrible. was it normal for the voice in your head to talk so much ? was it even normal to have hear a voice ?

you quickly realised you were on the ground, back against the freshly mowed grass of the UNSUB’s lawn. organised, you thought. that was the part of the profile you’d been wrong about.

you struggled to move, and to speak, which only fed your panic. the previously bright green grass absorbed the sticky liquid pooling out of you, and you wondered how exactly you had ended up here, in a pool of your own blood. it was all blurry in your mind.

shouts. gunshots. people running.

your eyes might’ve been closed, but you could still hear it all, until a familiar voice caught your attention.

“can you hear me ?” spencer asked, his voice tinged with the slightest amount of worry he wasn’t supposed to feel on the field. “you don’t have to open your eyes, just- please, squeeze my hand or something-“

“you broke the rule” you thought, almost smiling to yourself as you remembered his words from last night. “we shouldn’t get too close to eachother at work,” he’d said, while he was putting his shirt back on after you two had taken part in a not-so-professional activity.

“not that i don’t want to, cause i really do. but, you just… mess with my head, and i don’t want it to impact the case”

unfortunately, it had. and spencer knew it.

feeling like you were slowly slipping away, betrayed by your own body, you gathered all the energy you had left to do so, trying your best to make him know you were still there, despite your body going limp on the ground.

it wasn’t exactly a squeeze, more like a featherlight brush of your pinky finger against his, but spencer felt it. and never in his life had he been so relieved. it was one thing to lose an agent, but even more so when this agent happened to have have made him consider the meaning of the “love at first sight” he’d never believed in, a couple of hours prior.

“the medics are on their way” he reassured you, not even sure you could hear him, but he had to give it a try. “and they got the UNSUB, i’m staying here with you”

he kept his promise.

with his hand pressed firmly against the spot under your rib where you were still bleeding. with his calming voice, trying to keep you conscious by talking to you until the medics got here. with his fingers still laced with yours as they took you into the ambulance. he stayed.

if you had been able to talk, you would’ve told him many things. first, that you didn’t feel like you were dying at all. if anything, you felt like you were falling asleep after a long day, muscles and bones going soft as you joined him in your dreams.

then, you would’ve told him that he shouldn’t have stayed. his presence next to you weakened the rest of the team, and meant he hadn’t followed protocol.

and lastly, you really would’ve liked to tell him that he should have stayed. last night, when the two of you were getting to know each other, when you wished for comfort and craved human affection after he’d left.

but you couldn’t speak right now.

there was no one to shut him up, and no warm voice to reassure him. “listen, please, please…” he kept repeating on the ambulance, begging him not to leave like everyone else in his life had.

“not now, okay ? you didn’t even have the chance to yell at me for approaching in front of the team…” damn, how, you wished to be conscious and awake to hear the rest of his words. unfortunately, the machines beeping around you and the darkness that surrounded you made you fall back into a deep slumber.

and even then, spencer was still there, under different conditions. you two were back in your bed, legs tangled as if you were trying to merge your bodies together. and you could see his beautiful eyes, looking into yours as he traced the birthmarks on your arm. but that was all a dream.

when you woke up, you most definitely felt dead. but the pounding in your head followed quickly, and as you opened your eyes to find yourself in a depressingly bright hospital room, you realised death would’ve been too easy.

“oh, there you are” he spoke gently, careful not to startle you. you thought you heard voices again, but turned around to find him sitting on a chair next to the bed, dark circles under his beautiful hazel eyes.

you managed to croak out weakly. “you look like hell”

of course the first thing you’d say to him after all of this was sarcastic. he smiled, proud of himself because he understood the joke for once.

“why, thank you. you look like heaven”

if there was once thing spencer reid couldn’t do, it was lying. a tired smile creeped up your pale face, and the sharp pain in your abdomen reminded you why you were there in the first place.

“if this is what heaven is like, i want a refund. i didn’t pay for this”

“technically, you didn’t pay at all. the bureau is responsible for any injuries on the field, even exterior individuals. your hospital bills are covered” spencer stated, to which you chuckled.

“oh… that was a joke, yeah ?

“yes.”

“right.. good joke”

silence surrounded both of you again, and you brushed your fingertips against your ribs to assess the damage. his eyes darted away, as he thought of you in the same position under different circumstances.

“the doctors stitched you up, you’ll be alright. he missed the lung by a few millimetres, it could’ve been- i mean, you could’ve-…”

“i know…”

“i really thought you were going to…” he admitted, refusing to look at you.

you repeated. “i know…”

if this was fate’s way of bringing the two of you together, it was definitely ironic. and also, way too painful on your side. then again, you’d never really lucked out in love, so this would probably be another funny story to share with your friends, after too many drinks.

unless…

“look,” spencer said, sitting up in his seat as if to prepare himself for rejection. “i know the circumstances are bad, and we agreed on calling it a mistake. but it wasn’t, for me. and i really thought i was gonna lose you today.”

his words made you soften, you tilted your head as he kept going, awkwardly using his hands as he spoke.

“i’m saying lose you, but i never even had you in the first place. and i don’t want that- i mean, i want to have you. yeah, i’m rambling”

you chuckled, which comforted him a bit.

“basically, i’m trying to say i’d like to have you before having to think about losing you. not that i ever want to think about losing you” he corrected himself, nose scrunching up at the thought of it.

“i’d like that too…”

he almost looked unsure, as if he was expecting you to somehow get up or run away which was completely absurd because you were physically unable to move, linked to the machines and the beeping monitors, and also because you were most definitely in love with him.

“really ?”

“yes, really. i can’t thank you enough for staying with me. i mean, you broke protocol-“

spencer raised a brow “actually, we broke protocol the minute you took me back to your place.”

laughing, you leaned back against the pillow, thouroughly amused by the situation. he really was something else. “okay, fair enough. so… i’d like to break protocol with you again.”

“is that a joke again ?” he asked, fingers tapping against the arm rest of the chair. after all, you had a knack for sarcasm.

“no, most definitely not a joke.”

“good. i’d like to break protocol with you too…”

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andvys · 2 days ago

Text

the edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter seventeen

⭐︎ Now I'm racing for what to do, all roads lead me right back to you

Warnings: hurt/comfort, a few sprinkles of angst, kinda mean!Eddie, mentions of depression, uh... don't know what else to add

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Your night with Aaron didn't only change your relationship with Steve -- it also brought chaos upon the whole group, leading you to make a drastic decision that might be for the sake of everyone.

Word count: 13k+

Author's note: Me and @hellfire--cult say; you're welcome. Roe wrote the bestest part, aka everything that came after that moment hehe

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

After a week of standing still close by the gates of the community, the RV is finally running again. Filled with gas and two extra gallons provided by the community, along with supplies – food, water, medicine, ammo, and a new rifle.

Nancy is already in the driver's seat. Having said goodbye to Tommy already, she spared herself the awkwardness of engaging more with him in front of Eddie and Steve after spending the night with the older man. She is tapping the steering wheel, looking into blank space as she waits.

Eddie, who is sitting down on the steps of the RV, nodding along to Tommy’s advice for the road ahead, can’t seem to find it in himself to focus on what the man is telling him, not when his friend looks like he is about to die.

Steve is leaning against the side of the RV with his arms crossed. His knee is bouncing as his eyes are stuck on the road ahead. Waiting and waiting, waiting for you. His heart keeps pounding painfully in his chest. His mind racing with all kinds of thoughts. Ones he doesn’t want to think about. Ones he is afraid of. What if you decide to stay here after all? What if you decide that Aaron should be the one to take you to your family and bring you back here with him?

The thought pains him. It causes shudders to run down his back. It fills him with dread and sadness, but also with anger.

What would he even do if you said you are not coming with them… with him?

Would he be able to do anything about it? Would he get desperate enough to ask you to stay with him by telling you the truth about his feelings?

Steve brings his hand up to his hair, running it through it nervously. He takes a deep breath, though it does little to calm him down. Only when he finally catches sight of you, walking down the road and to where he is standing, does he feel like he can breathe again. That is, until he sees him.

Aaron is walking beside you, holding your hand. He feels like his breath gets knocked out of him again. He knows he should look away to spare himself the pain of watching that, but he can’t.

Eddie pushes himself off the steps when he sees you. He clears his throat, trying to catch Steve’s attention, but the brunette is set on you. His eyes are glued on you. Eyes filled with sadness and pain.

He doesn’t look away. He can’t.

“Morning.” Aaron nods at Steve, who doesn’t even acknowledge him, only you.

But you aren’t looking at him, nor at Eddie, who is trying to make eye contact with you, but your eyes are on the ground. The metalhead can’t tell whether it’s shame etched into your features or regret, but he can tell that you don’t feel comfortable standing here in front of Steve while having your hand held by the man you spent the night with. With the man you didn’t want it to be.

“Brought you your sunshine back.” Aaron says, squeezing your hand as he briefly glances at Steve, who is still not looking at him.

Tommy, who is standing on the side, looks down, chuckling under his breath.

“Thank you, I was starting to think she would ditch us and stay here.” Eddie jokes, still looking at you.

And when you finally look up, he notices the same exhaustion on your face that he sees on Steve’s.

And Steve, he sees it too. He wants to feel relief so badly, but he knows the exhaustion can have two very different meanings. The latter makes him feel nauseous. He doesn’t want to think about it. His mind was swirling with the sickest thoughts all night. He doesn’t want to let it consume his mind again, not when you are back and here, ready to get back inside the RV with them. With him.

“Never.” Aaron chuckles, looking down at you. “The offer was on the table, but I think she prefers you guys.”

Steve’s mood sours even more. And he can’t help but huff at Aaron’s words.

Eddie notices one thing, and that is how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. You avoid Steve’s eyes, especially.

“Yeah, I’ll stick with my friends.” You say softly and look up at Aaron, giving him a small smile, but still big enough to make Steve’s heart ache. “But thank you, Aaron… For everything.” Your words have deeper meaning, and Steve knows that. It only worsens the pain in his heart, knowing that you have shared special things with another man. He doesn’t know whether he wants to scream or slam his head into the RV. He knows he should look away from you and him, but he can’t.

Aaron nods, giving you a soft smile and another squeeze to your hand before he lets you go.

“Anytime, Darlin’.” He nods, tipping his cowboy hat at you, making you smile a little bigger.

“Alright, are you ready to go?” Eddie asks you, wanting nothing more than to put his best friend out of his misery.

“Yeah. I’m ready.” You mumble, still not looking at him.

You turn towards Tommy and step towards the older man. You bid your farewells and thank him for all he’s done for you and your friends. He shakes your hand and gives you a warm smile, telling you that the gates will always be open for you and your friends.

You feel a bit awkward having to say goodbye to Aaron in front of Eddie and him. You can feel his eyes on you. His gaze is burning into your skin, and not in a pleasant way. You know he watched you last night, when you were dancing with Aaron, when you kissed him. You didn’t look at Steve after, not even when you left with him. You couldn’t. And now you can’t either.

When you turn back to Aaron, you notice that he is looking at him. His chin tilted down a bit, eyes filled with emotions you can’t read. He isn’t glaring, nor is he looking at him cockily, none of that. There is something in his eyes, something only directed at Steve. And when he looks back down at you, his eyes flicker with different emotions. His lips curl into a smile again, and he takes a step forward, opening his arms to you.

“C’mere.”

Your cheeks heat up when he reaches forward, taking your hand into his own. He pulls you towards him and away from Steve. He wraps his arms around you and gives you a tight hug. Leaning down, his lips brush against your ear, “be careful out there for me, alright?”

Steve squints his eyes. He clenches his fists, digging his nails into his palm. He takes a deep breath. He feels unsure of what he feels. Anger or sadness? He isn’t sure at this point. But he knows one thing: it hurts awfully to watch you be held by another man.

“Always.” You whisper and squeeze his waist before you pull away. You look up at him, intending it to be the last time. You say goodbye with a smile, but he has different plans. Before you can let go and step away from him, Aaron cups your cheeks and caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your mouth, and then he leans down and presses his lips against yours. He says goodbye with a kiss.

Steve’s heart drops to his stomach. The same nausea from the night before rising up in him. Anger fades away so quickly, and dejection settles in instead. His nails no longer dig into his palms. His chest no longer feels tight from rage. His eyes aren’t glaring anymore. All he feels… is pain.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut when he sees the expression on Steve’s face. He was mad at him before he knew how he really felt about you. Now he can’t feel that anymore, not when he is suffering like this. He can’t bear those eyes.

Steve stares at you, at the back of your head. He watches. He watches how another man holds your face and kisses you. That’s all he can do. Watch. He knows he should move. He knows he should turn around and get inside the RV, wait for you there. But he is frozen. Stuck in place.

Just like you, if he looked closer.

When Aaron pulls away, he brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“Remember to contact me once you arrive so I know that you’re safe. And if you need me to come pick you up, use the coordinates, and I’ll do so.” Aaron says, looking into your eyes deeply.

“Okay.” You whisper, nodding.

“Okay.” Aaron nods and leans down once more, this time only giving you a short peck instead of a full-blown kiss. It’s still enough to make you blush, to make you flustered beneath his eyes.

You squeeze his wrist and give him one last smile.

“Goodbye, Aaron.”

“Goodbye, Sunshine.”

His smile looks a little mischievous, his wink too. You can’t tell what he is trying to say. But his eyes flicker between you and Steve.

Steve, who isn’t even looking your way anymore when you turn to look at him, is facing away from you.

If only you saw the tears in his eyes that he is hiding from you.

You take a deep breath and look around one last time before you turn around and make your way inside the RV. You don’t know how much longer it will take to get to Nevada. You don’t know how much more pain you will have to bear till then. But you know that the rest of this journey won't be an easy one.

“Hey Nance.” You say softly, smiling at the girl in the driver’s seat.

She drops her map and turns to face you. You have seen her this morning, sneaking out of Tommy’s room with hickeys on her neck. She froze when she was met by the sight of you standing by the window and sipping on a freshly brewed coffee. You expected her to get awkward, but instead she smirked your way and told you that a girls talk was much needed.

“Hey, you.” She smiles, eying you up and down. She leans her elbow against the steering wheel and points a finger at you. “We’re still having that conversation later.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You whisper, growing flustered beneath her blue eyes. You don’t get to say much more because Steve stomps inside after you. He brushes past you and makes his way over to the couch. He sits down, refusing to look your way, and maybe it’s for the better, because you aren’t sure if you want him to look at you.

Eddie walks in too, after saying his goodbyes. He waves at the two men one last time, giving them polite smiles before he shuts the door and locks it. He breathes in deeply and looks over at Steve.

The worried look in his eyes makes you tense up, even more when the metalhead glances at you with emotions he hasn’t shown you before. You don’t know why, but it makes your chest ache, and it makes you unable to look at him longer. You force your eyes away from him and look down, awkwardly making your way to your seat, which was next to Steve.

Eddie watched you intensely. His brown eyes take you in as he tries to read the expression on your face and the obvious tension in your shoulders. He wants to ask if you are okay, but then he looks over at Steve, who is looking out the window, refusing to turn towards the front of the RV, and he decides against it.

With a sigh, he turns around and makes his way over to the passenger seat. He plops down and grabs the map off Nancy’s lap, only briefly glancing at the girl who is shaking her head at him in confusion. Her eyebrows are furrowed. Confusion and irritation were written all over her face.

“You gonna drive or not, Wheeler?”

Eddie’s voice was cold. The coldest you’ve ever heard. You never thought you would hear him talk like that, and much less towards Nancy, who looked just as surprised, and even hurt. She stuttered a bit, not knowing how to deal with Eddie’s sudden anger.

“I– Yes, I’m– Yeah.” She turns the engine key, and the RV comes to life. Steve was still not looking your way, and you felt nauseous as the motorhome rocked side to side. You weren’t going to be able to stand it, so you got up, and rushed towards the back where the bed was, creating distance between the two of you once more.

Steve felt his heart collapsing at how quickly you moved from his side. How quickly you couldn’t stand his presence. Just one minute passed since you sat down next to him, and it was enough.

He stared at the floor, unable to speak, unable to move and Eddie noticed. His eyes moved from the map and towards Steve. He sighed, putting the map down, his eyes turning to look at Nancy who was driving.

“Change of plans. You go to the back, have your girls talk, while I drive and Steve is my copilot.” At his words, Nancy frowned, looking at him before staring back at the road.

“What? We– That’s not how we planned it– You can’t drive, your leg–”

“Well, I am changing it, and I can move my leg. So, stop the RV, and let me drive.” Steve’s eyes were wide at Eddie’s tone, finally noticing the change. He saw Nancy’s curls bob a little as she shook her head, slowly stopping the RV to get out of the Driver’s seat. Nancy didn’t even glance towards Steve as she passed, and the brown haired man could hear a sniffle following right behind her steps.

He heard the sliding door close, and Eddie stepped into the Driver’s seat, putting the radio on, for the very first time, and his cassette. Steve’s eyes widened, pushing himself up from the couch, and rushing to the passenger’s seat, shaking his head.

“Eddie, we can’t use the radio, it drains the battery–”

“You really wanna hear that?” Eddie’s eyes were knives towards Steve as he buckled himself up. The brown haired man trembled slightly at the realization that Nancy and you might be talking about last night. He certainly didn’t want to hear that. He shook his head, sitting on the passenger’s seat and buckling up, before grabbing the map.

Eddie started the drive again, and the music of various metal bands filled the air. Steve frowned, looking at his friend.

“How did you get this?”

“Remember the barista? Back at the community? Yeah, he gave me a copy of his playlist. Fucking cool, isn’t it?” Steve nodded, looking back at the road as he felt the emptiness start to consume him a little.

“Everyone made at least one friend in there, huh.” Eddie cringed at his friend’s words, sighing.

“No one would have been able to handle all the Harrington charm.” He joked, and Steve shook his head, frowning.

“What?”

“Especially that grumpy attitude, and those amazing eyebags you have.” At Eddie’s jokes, Steve rolled his eyes.

“Wow, thanks for that man.”

“Just trying to cheer someone up here.” Eddie stated as he whistled along the screaming that was coming out of the speakers. Steve cringed, looking at his friend again.

“Couldn’t you have at least gotten a tape that– I don’t know, would have been to everyone’s liking?”

“Aw, are you sad we don’t have Madonna in here?” At that, Steve finally cracked a small smile. A small victory on Eddie’s side. “Maybe I did get other cassettes, but I’m saving them for special occasions.”

A beat of silence fills them after those jokes, the RV moving back and forth as Steve stares at the map. Clearly, Eddie didn’t need guidance. He had already inspected the map before, and Eddie had a good sense of direction. He always did. But maybe Steve was hallucinating. Maybe he was panicking, but he swore he heard Nancy’s gasp, or a laugh. So he made conversation again to add to the music.

“Why… the sudden change of attitude?”

“Come again?” Eddie asked, as if he hadn’t noticed himself how he was acting recently.

“You were a little… harsh? With Nance?” At Steve’s words, Eddie shrugged, shaking his head.

“Really? Didn’t think so.” Steve couldn’t help the uneasy feeling in his chest. He looked out of the window, knowing he won’t get Eddie’s thoughts out of his mouth any time soon. A pang of pain in his head interrupted his own though. He felt himself become a little light-headed as he looked at the road, the sight of it dizzying him. “Steve?”

“Huh? I’m– fine. I just got a little dizzy, that’s all–”

“You mean the lack of sleep. Try to get some–” But Steve immediately interrupted, holding onto the map tightly, looking down at it.

“I’m fine. Keep driving.” Eddie glanced at his best friend for a few seconds, then his eyes returned to the road ahead, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as anger filled him. The feeling of helplessness. The feeling of pure fear of losing Steve.

And no one else but him noticed.

Eddie was having a bad day. At least that’s what you told yourself on the first day of being back on the road. He was unusually quiet with you. He barely talked to you, and he barely looked at you.

You thought that he got off on the wrong foot that morning, that maybe he didn’t want to talk, that he wasn’t feeling well, or just having a bad day like you or Steve, or even Nancy had before. But then the second day passed, and the third, and he was still not… his usual self.

A weird energy hangs in the air. It makes you feel uncomfortable. It makes you feel guilty, and you don’t know why. You didn’t do anything wrong, did you? But taking a look at Nancy, and seeing those sad blue eyes follow her best friend, who barely talks to her these days, makes you feel like it is your fault… somehow. You don’t know if something happened between them, if they had an argument or a disagreement when you weren’t around, but something tells you that you are the reason for the way he is treating her.

Her eyes are sad whenever they fall on Eddie, but they are filled with anger when they lock with hazel ones. Steve cowers away every time her ice cold glare hits him.

He doesn’t even look at you – only when you aren’t looking at him. His eyes are glued to you every chance he gets when you are busy with something. They roam your face and your body. Those eyes filled with longing would break your heart if only you caught him.

It’s snowing outside, strongly so. The wind is heavy too, making it impossible for any of you to sit outside for dinner the way you did all these days. When you and Nancy ate your dinner at the small table in the RV, Steve and Eddie left to eat theirs outside. In those three days you have been on the road, the four of you haven’t sat down to eat together once. Tonight is the first, and it feels awkward. Nobody is talking. The only sound filling the RV is the scraping against plates and the howling of the wind outside.

Eddie is staring at his bowl, shoving down his food with an irritated look on his face. Steve’s eyes are glued to his food as well, though he doesn’t eat as fastly as Eddie does. Nancy, who is sitting beside you on the sofa, is picking at the beans while your plate is completely untouched. Your stomach is empty, but your appetite isn’t there at all. The thought of even picking up your fork and taking a bite makes you feel nauseous.

You look down at the map, looking at all the possible directions to take to get to Nevada. You know you won’t get home any time soon, but you know that some roads would take you there faster while others wouldn’t. Some could bring unwanted obstacles. A hoard of infected that you somehow managed to avoid so far. A tree blocking the road, forcing you to take another exit. Monsters. Another snowstorm. Unfortunately the map can’t provide you with this kind of information.

“You should eat.” Nancy says softly, nudging your shoulder.

“I’m not hungry.” You mumble, not looking up from the map.

Steve glances at you, worriedly looking between your untouched plate and your face. He notices the dark circles under your eyes. The line between your eyebrows. The tired look deeply into your features.

His heart aches. It constantly aches now after he lost you. You are right there. You are right in front of him, and yet it feels like you are gone. What he would do to feel you in his arms again. To hold you and–

“You should still eat.”

You tense up at the sound of Eddie’s voice. The roughness and coldness in it being so clear. It doesn’t only make you freeze.

You look up to find him staring at you intensely. His brown eyes which are usually filled with warmth, are… cold, just like his voice is.

“I said I’m not hungry, Eddie–”

He slams his empty plate on the table, making you flinch a little.

“Yeah, you said the same this morning and last night. You are not eating, you are not sleeping. If you keep going that way, you’ll get sick again and hold us back. Do you wanna see your family or not?”

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth, though your mind is empty and you couldn’t form a sentence if you tried. His words feel like a slap in your face. The hurt residing in your chest is deep enough as it is. To feel such anger from someone who did nothing but defend and comfort you till now feels awfully painful. He had never been angry at you before. He had never done anything to make you doubt how he feels about you. Eddie had your back from the start, back when he knew barely anything about you. He was the one who fought for you to stay with them, and now… this?

Steve’s heart aches at the sight of your shocked expression. His sad eyes soften when he notices the hurt flashing in your eyes. He froze at Eddie’s words.

“Okay, what crawled up your ass?” Nancy finally snaps, dropping her bowl on the table the way he did as she glares daggers into her best friend, having had enough of his attitude and the silent treatment he is punishing her with. She felt nothing but sadness for the past few days but now she can’t help but feel angry. “What is your problem?”

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he turns to face her.

“I am not talking to you.”

“Clearly!” Nancy scoffs, shaking her head at him. “You are being an asshole.” She snaps, having had enough of this.

You blink, snapping out of it. Your eyes meet his for just a second, but a second enough to see the worry and the pity. God. You don’t need that. His eyebrows are furrowed as he continues to look at you, and you can’t take it. You force your eyes away from him.

“Right.” Eddie scoffs.

“No, you’ve been an asshole since the party! Giving us the silent treatment and only opening your mouth to be a jerk… really, Munson?” Nancy exclaims, tilting her head to the side as she stares at her best friend. Her words come from anger and despair, but her eyes say something else. Something Eddie can’t even see through the haze that he is in.

You look between them, and when you see the way they look at each other, the way they never did before, your heart starts pounding a little.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Eddie laughs humorlessly.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Nancy snaps, squinting her eyes at him.

“You were an asshole first, Wheeler. You were a real asshole.” Eddie mumbles, and for the first time in days, you see something other than indifference in his eyes. You see disappointment towards Nancy.

And you see the way Nancy freezes as she gets quiet for a moment. The realization sinks in when her eyes flicker over to Steve, only for a brief second.

The lump in your throat grows, and your heart starts pounding a little faster when you look between them. Did she say something to him? Did they argue when you weren’t there? Did she hurt him?

Anxiety creeps up on you as your eyes flicker back and forth between them, noticing how Steve avoids her glaring blue eyes, no ounce of remorse or guilt in them, while his are filled with sadness.

“With good reason.” Nancy murmurs under her breath, shaking her head at Eddie.

“Really?” Eddie scoffs as he leans forward. “If you really think so then I have every reason to be disappointed in you.”

The fear that you have been the reason for all of this turns into harsh reality at his next words.

“You took care of someone you met just months ago, when the one who has been here for years should have been your priority.”

There have been many moments in your life when you have felt like your heart stopped beating, when the pain was so deep that you froze and could only stare. Harsh words have been thrown at you before. Friendships have been broken. Friendships that were only ever one-sided. People you gave your everything to, dropped you without batting an eye, replacing you without a struggle.

In the end it was only ever you. No matter how much you tried, you never found people who wanted you.

You found something real here. You found them. Eddie and Nancy, who took you in, invited you into their home without a moment of hesitation. And even Steve, who despite his efforts to push you away, let you in.

It was good. It was nice. For a moment, you had everything you ever wanted. You can’t believe that the reason for it to fall apart would be yourself. And even worse, it didn’t only fall apart for you. It’s falling apart for them now too. They are falling apart.

The lump in your throat grows bigger and bigger, cutting off the air to breathe. Your eyes start burning with unwanted tears as you look between Eddie and Nancy. Their voices are faded now as they still argue. All you see are the angry glares they throw at each other while Steve looks helplessly between them.

Your ears start ringing, and your chest starts hurting so badly when you take a good look at him.

He is suffering.

He is suffering because of you. You broke that friendship between you because you couldn’t control your feelings.

Nancy is suffering because she is on the way to losing her best friend, because of you. Because she was angry at Steve for hurting you, because she chose your side when she shouldn’t have. You never wanted this. You never wanted her to pick a side. You never wanted her to be angry at him.

“Sunshine?”

You snap out of it. Blinking a few times, you look up at him to see him eyeing your face. His hazel eyes are filled with worry, and you can’t take it. You can’t.

Nancy and Eddie pay no attention to you or him; they keep snapping at each other. Your name is never mentioned, and Eddie doesn’t throw you in directly, but you know that every jab is meant to be directed at you.

And you can’t take this anymore.

You can’t watch them fall apart anymore.

You can’t let yourself be the reason for them to lose one another.

You get up and storm away, not noticing how Steve was ready to run after you, thinking that you were about to go through the door and out into the storm. But he settles back into his seat when you lock yourself in the bathroom.

You grip the edges of the sink as you take a deep breath. One look in the mirror is enough to cause those tears to fall. An indifference towards yourself growing deeply. The sickening feeling in your chest keeps spreading as the realization sinks deeper and deeper.

Of course, you had to ruin that one good thing in your life.

And you dragged them down with you.

But you can’t, you won’t keep doing that. You won’t ruin what they have. You won’t add further damage.

So, despite the pain and the heartache, your next decision is an easy one.

Steve is sipping on what must be his third cup of coffee, though it does little to take away his exhaustion. He is tired, more than ever before, but he can’t sleep. Every time his eyes close, cruel pictures invade his mind. Nightmares that only ever consisted of Robin and how he could not save her are now replaced with you getting ripped away from him, and every time it happens differently, leaving him to feel more afraid after each nightmare.

He is sitting by the fire, across from Nancy, whose eyes are practically burning with rage. He felt small beneath her gaze before, feeling the indifference towards him in a whole new way. It makes him feel uncomfortable, but also a little irritated because she won’t even really talk to him. All she does is snap at him and glare daggers into his skin.

It worsened after he saw you talking to her earlier.

The whole day was spent in awkward, tense silence after Eddie’s and Nancy’s fight the night before. Nobody really talked to each other. Nobody really looked at one another. Only when Eddie decided that it was time for a break from driving were you all forced to interact in some way.

While Eddie and Steve prepared a little fire, you had dragged Nancy away from them and towards the little stream Eddie stopped the RV by. Steve couldn’t make out any words that left your mouth, though he saw the sadness on your face from a mile away. His curiosity made him watch the whole interaction, and when he saw the shock and denial on Nancy’s face as she shook her head, his heart fell a little. Despite not knowing what it was that you had said to her, he felt anxiety creeping up on him. Nancy kept shaking her head and fighting you over whatever you were saying, though he could see that you were set on it.

You avoided his eyes when you made your way back to the RV, and you haven’t left it ever since.

Now he is left dealing with Nancy’s hateful eyes as she is cleaning her gun. He wants to glare back at her, but the brunette looks a little intimidating right now, especially with that gun in her head. He is convinced that a part of her wants to aim it at him.

He takes another sip of his coffee and looks around. The little spot that Eddie had picked is beautiful. A hidden little spot in the forest, surrounded by pine trees. A pretty stream where Eddie is sitting by on his camping chair, away from everyone. The sun is shining, melting the snow on the ground. It’s difficult to appreciate this scenery when his heart is aching and his friend group is falling apart.

When he looks back at Nancy, she huffs and rolls her eyes, making him clench his jaw.

“You got something you want to say to me, Nance?”

“Nothing nice.”

Steve scoffs and nods his head.

“Yeah, I figured that.”

“So we can agree that you’re an asshole? Amazing.”

Steve squints his eyes at her. Irritation bubbling up inside of him. He’s had enough of this. He’s had enough of her attitude, and he’s had enough of watching Eddie treat you so coldly. He’s had enough of them picking sides. He’s had enough of them fighting each other, when they were inseparable before.

It’s nice to know that he isn’t the only one who feels protective over you, but he is sick of everything that has been happening after leaving Wyoming.

He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, though he never uses his voice. The words get caught in his throat when the RV door opens and you come out, stealing his attention. Your eyes meet his for a second, and his whole body freezes when he sees the redness in them. The circles under your eyes are deep and dark. Your whole expression is one of sadness. You have been crying.

It isn’t only his heart that aches at the sight of you, it’s his whole being that aches. He swallows harshly and holds the cup tighter in his hand. The urge to drop everything and rush to your side and pull you into his arms is stronger than ever.

But he can’t.

You break eye contact and move down the stairs as you tug your jacket tighter around your body. You look around for Eddie, and when you spot him by the stream, you start making your way towards him. Ignoring Steve’s eyes on you. Ignoring Nancy’s worried gaze.

You breathe in the fresh air. Nerves running high as you approach the metalhead. You clear your throat to announce your presence behind him, but he doesn’t even look up. He is staring at the water, smoking a cigarette.

You stop beside him and appreciate the view before you for a second, and you take another deep breath before you turn to face him.

“Eddie?”

He only hums in response, not even acknowledging your presence.

“Can we talk?” You ask, hating how shaky your voice sounds.

“Sure.” He mumbles, still not looking at you. He brings his cigarette up to his lips, taking another drag.

You shift on your feet uncomfortably, blinking as you feel your eyes growing hot again. You never thought that you would have to deal with this. You never thought that you would be on the receiving end of his indifference. But he made things very clear last night.

You wait for him to look up, to at least take a look at you, but he doesn’t.

“Can you at least look at me?” You know that you are starting to sound desperate, but you can’t help it. You thought you meant to him as much as he meant to you.

You can see him clenching his jaw, taking a deep breath, and huffing.

Your shoulders drop, and your face falls further. The pain is hitting you harder than before.

“Okay then… I guess not.” You mumble, looking down at your feet as your vision gets blurry. “You won’t have to deal with me much longer.”

At that, his head finally snaps up and he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” He asks, no longer interested in the view before him or his cigarette.

“You barely look at me, you don’t even talk to me anymore. I can tell that you don’t want me around anymore–”

Finally, he stands up and steps towards you. His eyes are big and confused.

“What are you trying to say?” He asks, trying to make you meet his eyes as he tilts his chin down.

You take another deep breath after swallowing the lump in your throat. You look up, still blinking so as to not let the tears fall.

“I already told Nancy… I’m… after I find my way home, I’m taking my family back to Wyoming.”

It’s a decision you didn’t want to make. You wanted to go with them. But you are not going to invade Steve’s home. You are not going to add further damage to a friendship you already managed to break.

Eddie freezes.

His anger filled eyes widen, flashing with confusion and shock.

“W-What? What… Why? You said you were coming with us–”

You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest.

“It’s better for everyone that way. I’m not going to move into a town he is supposed to feel comfortable in,” you point in Steve’s direction before you angrily wipe your fallen tear away. “And I’m not gonna be the reason for you all to fall apart. You were right, Nancy shouldn’t have taken care of me, she should have been there for him.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows. Guilt flashes in his eyes, and it crashes over him how awful his words must have sounded to you.

“Sunshine–”

You shake your head, trying to stop further tears from falling.

“No, Eddie. It’s okay. I appreciate what you all have done for me, but I won’t stand by and watch you lose each other because of me.” You mumble, your voice getting quieter now as you don’t trust it anymore.

Eddie shakes his head, staring at you, bewildered.

“I broke up the group enough as it is. I’m not coming with you. Final word.” Before another tear can roll down your cheek, you turn around and walk away from him. Every step becomes harder as you make your way back to the RV.

“Sunshine?” Nancy murmurs, getting up from her chair already.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You mumble, not looking at her or Steve’s way as you make your way up the steps and slam the door behind you.

Eddie stands back for a moment, letting your words sink in. Guilt and sadness rushing through him, but even more so, it’s anger and irritation. You aren’t the reason for all of this. It’s the lack of communication between you and the brunette who keeps staring at you with sad eyes instead of acting upon his feelings. This could have been between you; this should have been between you. He doesn’t know how it all blew up like this. But the moment sides were picked, it all started falling apart, and now even more so.

Do you really think that they will be better off without you?

Do you really think that you mean this little to them that they could just move on from you and act like you were never there?

Do you really not see how they were falling apart before you? How Steve wasn’t even there with them?

He’s had enough.

Eddie takes a deep breath and starts making his way towards his friends. The despair inside of him to fix all of this running deep. He storms his way over to where Steve is sitting. The man looks up at him, with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted.

“You need to snap out of it, right now!” He points a finger at him.

“What?”

Nancy looks between them, confused. She draws back a little when the metalhead turns to face her with anger in his eyes.

“You knew?”

She shakes her head, tilting her head to the side, “huh?”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sucking in a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down.

“That she is not coming to California.”

Nancy’s shoulder slumped, and the confusion on her face faded away. She straightens her back and glances at Steve, who looks like he is frozen in place. His hazel eyes are wide, filled with shock and fear.

“What…?”

His voice sounds broken enough to even make her feel bad. She looks down and sighs. The feeling of Eddie’s eyes glaring into her skin, overwhelming her a little.

“She told me earlier… I couldn’t convince her otherwise…” She mumbles softly.

Steve’s whole body is frozen. He is staring into blank space as his mind is screaming at him to do something. Not having you anymore, not feeling you in your arms anymore, not being with you like he was before, is one thing, but losing you completely is another. He can’t go on without you, not like this. He was so afraid of losing you that he didn’t notice that he was already on the way there.

Eddie huffs, shaking his head at this whole situation. He brings his hand up and runs it through his hair. He looks down at Steve, feeling a slight anger towards him again. If only he opened his mouth.

Eddie knows he needs time, but that time is running out now.

He thought that their conversation on the porch the night after the party was a push enough, but apparently not, because he still hasn’t done anything about it.

“What are you going to do?” Eddie asks, forcing him to look up.

Steve knits his eyebrows together, pursing his lips as he shakes his head in question.

“What–?”

“Are you going to do something about it or are you just gonna let her do that fucking shit?” Eddie asks, being fed up with everything.

Steve takes a deep breath. Eddie’s anger is contagious because he is starting to feel it too. Eddie is trying to speak with his eyes, to remind him of what they talked about, to remind him how he felt when you left with another man… just for one night.

“Eddie–” Nancy starts.

“No! Shut up!” Eddie snaps at her, pointing a finger at her. “This has nothing to do with you!”

The girl draws back in shock. Her eyes flicker back and forth between Eddie and Steve. The latter getting angrier each passing second now too.

“Are you going to let her go back to him?” Eddie asks, knowing where to hit him.

Steve’s eyes darken at his words. The anger now is so clear in his features. He sucks in a sharp breath. The thought of you leaving him, the thought of being the reason for you to find your way back to Aaron makes him sick, but it also makes him snap, finally.

“Steve…” Nancy mumbles, seeing the expression on his face. “What are you gonna do?”

Steve slams his cup on the ground, and he gets up. He runs his hand through his hair, huffing as he stares at Eddie.

“Yeah, no…” Steve shakes his head. Everything boils up inside of him, everything and all at once. It explodes. And he is unable to hold it back any longer. “Fuck that shit.” He grumbles and brushes past the metalhead, and he storms inside the RV.

The despair grows inside of him, making the anger so much more intense than before. A mixture of emotions rushing through him, and he can’t even place what exactly he is feeling.

Just as he slams the door shut behind him, you come out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around your body. Your skin is still shining from the water, your hair still dripping. The both of you freeze for a moment, staring at one another.

You notice his expression, it’s hard not to when he stares at you like this, breathing heavily and looking angrier than ever before.

“What–”

“We need to talk.”

You bring your hand up to the knot on your towel, holding it. You huff as you shake your head at him, “there’s nothing to talk about, Steve.” You say as though you don’t miss him, as if you don’t feel anger for how all of this went down.

“Yes, there is!” Steve exclaims, throwing his hands up. “I’m done with this…I can’t take this anymore.” He points between you and himself. “And now I find out that you aren’t coming with us to California!? Were you ever gonna tell me about that, or did you plan to just hop off the RV and pretend like nothing ever happened between us?”

“Nothing happened. You made that very clear, Steve. I thought there was a chance, but you quickly shut that down again.” You mumble in confusion, not understanding what the look in his eyes is for, but you see the rage flashing in them when they notice the mark on your collarbone.

“I–”

“You know why I thought we had a chance?” You ask, feeling irritation spark at you now too. You have thought about what happened many times. You have thought of all the reasons for your unusual courage. You have thought about what Eddie had said about you and Steve before. You have thought about what Aaron had said. “You gave me mixed signals and then you chickened out like a little boy.”

Steve’s eyes widen at your words, having not expected something like this at all.

“A little boy– excuse me?”

“You said I’m childish,” you point at yourself, feeling a rush of sudden anger. “But have you looked into a mirror?”

Steve draws back in shock. This is not how this was supposed to play out. This is not a sight he expected from you, especially not after you stormed inside the RV looking like you were about to break down.

But your anger is so clear on your face now. Your eyes are burning with it, just like his own. The energy in the room shifts into something stronger.

“What did you just say?” He asks as he takes a step towards you.

“You heard me. You’re a fucking boy. You knew how I felt about you, and you still decided to play with my feelings. Friends don’t sleep in each others’ arms, Steve. Friends don’t hold each others’ hands the way we did. Friends don’t do what we did! You knew exactly what you were doing to me!” You finally get it all off your chest. You finally feel your chest decompressing from every single word you wanted to say to him from the moment he didn’t give you a minute’s peace.

Steve swallows harshly. Guilt creeping back into his chest. He now sees what it seemed like to you and it makes him feel like absolute shit but knowing that you found comfort in someone else right after hurts. Someone you are willing to run back to now.

“I did what I thought was best! For the both of us! And you, on the other hand, you behaved like a fucking brat, who didn’t get what she wanted and threw herself at the first guy she met!” Steve snaps, letting all his anger out as he moves even closer to you.

You stare at him in disbelief. You take a step forward too. “You seem to have forgotten what I told you at the mansion! I wanna live my life, Steve! I want to experience things! And I told you that I would do it if given the chance–”

“A chance?” Steve scoffs as hurt flashes in his eyes. “Was that what I was to you? A chance? A possibility?”

“What!?” You almost yell.

“Was I like Aaron?! Was that the reason why you approached me, Sunshine?”

How could he even think such a thing? How could he even ask such a thing? After everything that you have done for him?

Steve’s eyes are so angry, but even through that, you can see something more. You can see the hurt and something else…

“If I only looked for a possibility, then I would have gone for someone like Eddie, not you!”

He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “what is that supposed to mean!?”

“You hated me, Steve. You made sure I felt that, what makes you think that you would have been a choice if that was the only thing I looked for!?” You ask, tilting your head at him in a way that drives him crazy.

Steve’s shoulders slump, and he averts his eyes for a second, letting them fall back on your collarbone again. The evidence of another man’s lips on your body now etched on your skin. A reminder of what he was supposed to have, what he could have had if he didn’t push you away.

How could he have let this go so far?

You are right, you did tell him that if given the chance, you would take it, and he remembers how nauseous those words have made him feel.

And he feels the nausea still, just worse than before. To know that he let you slip through his fingers. To know that he is the reason why you spent the night with him… His heart aches in a way it never did before, and it makes his eyes burn.

“I never– I just never thought that you would actually–” his voice breaks, and he has to turn around, feeling choked up. He feels such anger towards himself that he throws his bruised fist into the wall beside the door.

You stare at the back of his head. Disbelief and shock cross your features as the realization begins to sink in slowly.

A friend wouldn’t behave that way. A friend wouldn’t feel such anger over you spending a night with someone. A friend wouldn’t feel so… so jealous. You can’t help but feel annoyed now.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to act all jealous on me now, Steve! How dare you feel jealous after what you did!?”

Steve freezes. A scoff falls from his lips.

“Jealous…” He mumbles and turns around to face you again, shocking you once more when he reveals tears in his eyes. “Try feeling like I’m being stabbed in my heart, in my lungs, in my stomach, Sunshine! Try feeling like my entire world was flipped and I’m back in the upside down again, only that I’m not, and it feels even worse than that!”

You freeze at his words, at his tears, at all of this. You are confused and you are lost, not following along anymore. All that you can see is a hurt man, suffering because of you, because of his feelings for you. Feelings you thought he did not have.

Your heart starts aching all over again, and your throat closes up on you.

A tear rolls down his cheek as he takes a step towards you.

“I didn’t want to be with you because if something were to happen to me, I didn’t want to be the reason for you to hold back on anything. I already lost someone dear to me, I know how it feels… I don’t want you to go through that too. And the thought of having you, of reaching happiness, of having a life with you, only to lose you… I wouldn’t survive that, Sunshine.” He admits, his voice above a whisper now as those tears roll down his cheeks.

Your eyes are wide, and the anger is replaced with shock now. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Your breath is knocked out of you.

Steve takes a deep breath, sniffling as he takes the final step towards you, cornering you against the wall behind you.

“But fuck… Seeing you with him filled me with as much pain and despair as if you had just died.”

Your whole face falls and pales at his confession. Your heart drops to your stomach as your eyes well up with tears. The guilt that you have felt before now is growing bigger and bigger, burning you in ways you have never felt before.

He never rejected you because he didn’t reciprocate your feelings. He never led you on. He never gave mixed signals. He never– Oh god. You stare at him, at his suffering eyes, at the tears that you have caused.

And Steve can see it. He can see the guilt and the regret in your eyes. He can see the disappointment that you feel for yourself now.

Your bottom lip trembles as you open your mouth to speak.

“I’m… I’m–”

Steve shakes his head as he looks into your glassy eyes.

“Don’t you dare say sorry. Don’t. It– As much as I fucking hate it, there’s no one to blame but me. Don’t say sorry for trying to live your life.”

You sniffle as the anger fades away completely. You can’t even bring yourself to look into his eyes anymore. You tilt your chin down, casting your eyes on the ground.

“Steve… What is… What is the point in telling me all this now?” You whisper, not trusting your voice anymore.

Steve had made his decision. He did the night on the porch after he talked to Eddie. He just didn’t find the courage, not until now. Not until he heard her voice in his head.

‘Don’t be a dingus.’

Steve reaches his hands out to you, wrapping them around your wrists, making you look back up at him. He can see the troubled emotions in your teary eyes.

“Let me go, Steve.” You whisper shakily as you try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you; if anything, it makes him hold you tighter. He takes another step forward, pushing you up against the wall, pressing himself against you.

He is breathing heavily, and his heart is pounding in his chest, threatening to burst through his skin. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

“I don’t think so.” He shakes his head. He will never let go again, he will never let you slip through his fingers again, he will never let you walk away again.

You feel his tender yet tight hold on your wrists, his skin against your own after so long. You can feel his body against yours. You can feel his breath on your skin. You can feel everything, everything you have longed for.

“Steve–”

“I’m never letting you go again, Sunshine.” Steve whispers as he breaks all the promises he had made to himself and smashes his lips against yours, taking your breath away completely. He cradles your cheeks and kisses you in a way no one ever did before. Passionately. Roughly. Desperately.

It takes you a moment to move, to reciprocate. You are too surprised, too shocked by what is happening. Your heart is pounding in your chest so strongly, you fear that it might explode.

Steve is kissing you.

Steve is kissing you like he’s been craving it for god knows how long.

And the kiss tastes of tears – sorrowful yet aggressive. His lips are soft against your own, his touch even softer. And when it finally really sinks in, you close your eyes and lean into him. You throw your arms around his neck and press yourself against him. Standing on your tippy toes isn’t enough, you place your toes on his boots to be even closer to him. You let go of everything and kiss him back just as desperately.

His whimper vibrates against your lips, sending shivers down your spine and lust rushing to your core.

His heart nearly combusts as he finally feels you. He can feel the way your knees buckle when he deepens the kiss without wasting a second, and it only leads him to hold you tighter. He wraps one arm around your waist, securing you against him.

His large palm covers your entire cheek. His nose bumps into yours as his lips continue to move at a fast pace. He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, needing to feel you more, needing to deepen the kiss further and further. Your lips are so soft, so perfect against his own. How did he wait for so long? How could he waste so much time? Kissing you feels like everything he imagined and more.

And kissing him feels like everything you have thought it would. It makes you weak in the knees. It makes you ache for more. It makes you crave him more and more and more. You cup his face, holding him with both hands. Your heart flutters when he moans and holds you tighter.

Even as you both grow breathless, you refuse to break the kiss you both have craved for so long, not wanting the moment to end even when you both know that this is just the beginning of it all.

Only when you feel like you are about to pass out from the lack of air do you pull away. You open your eyes at the same time. No words need to be said. Your eyes speak enough words.

“I’m done being stupid.” Steve whispers as he looks at you through hooded eyes. He leans down and pecks your lips. “I want to live.” Kiss. “I’m so fucking scared but I want to live; with you.” Kiss. “I’m done pretending you don’t drive me crazy.” Kiss. “I want you so bad, god, you have no idea what you do to me, Sunshine.”

You whimper at his action, at all the kisses, at all his words. The hope that once bloomed inside of you, rising up from the dead. Your eyes are wide, glinting with a happiness he hasn’t seen in so long.

“Show me.” You whisper, pleading with your eyes. “Please.”

He never planned for this to happen, let alone like this. But who is he to deny you any longer?

He wastes no second to connect his lips to yours again, and this time you don’t hesitate to kiss back right away, making him weak in the knees as well. His heart soars in his chest, beating so strongly out of happiness – just like yours does.

You pull him back and away from the spot you are still standing on and Steve doesn’t hesitate to back you up and towards the back of the RV, not breaking the kiss once, not even as he rips his jacket off and you help him out of it, pushing it down his arms and throwing it on the ground.

He picks you up, his arms around your body, and your legs dangle a bit from the ground, so he doesn’t step on your toes while walking towards the bed, making you whimper into his mouth. He can’t help but smile into the kiss at the sound.

You couldn’t believe that you were finally kissing him, and what this night led to. You felt the edge of the bed at your calves and then he lowered the both of you down, your back hitting the bed. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, tightly, the kiss never ending. If you could stay like this forever, you would. You definitely would.

Steve was trying not to lose his mind as his tongue danced with yours. As your legs spread so he could fit in between. This only happened in his very rare nice dreams. Dreams he had when he only held you close to him. When you two slept with each other. He should savor the first time between the two of you a little more, but his feelings were clawing at his chest, begging to come out.

And you wanted him. You told him to show you, and that he will. He was done denying you. He was done being a fucking idiot. He was done being a walking corpse. He wanted to live, and his only oxygen was you. He loves Eddie, Nancy, the teens… But somehow, Steve knows that you are his reason for living now. As horrible as it sounds, as unfair as it is, but you had carved your way into his soul so easily. Terrifyingly easy.

His hips rubbed into yours, and you could feel him completely because you were naked underneath that towel. You should be feeling shame, embarrassment, but all you can feel now is how happy you are. How much you want this. How much you need him. How much you need to show him how you feel.

He moaned into your mouth, and you never thought you would hear that in your life, and much less because you were the reason for this sound. It’s been a long while for Steve, and rubbing his growing bulge against your naked center, was not doing good things for his brain chemistry… nor his dignity.

But it was a point of no return now. He pulled away from your lips, his breath hitting your lips heavily, his eyes finding yours for a split second. His mouth found your cheek, then your jaw, then he started going down. You gasped when you felt him kiss your pulse point, then nip at it. Shivers ran down your entire spine as your nails dug into his scalp.

Steve was in heaven with the taste of your skin on his tongue. Finally. You were like a forbidden fruit. You were that chocolate you delight yourself on a cheat day. You tasted divine. You were perfect, and he always knew you would be, but now he had the proof of it.

“Steve–” You breathed out, and he hummed with delight as his hips rutted into yours again, the desperation growing at each second.

“Perfect… So fucking perfect, Sunshine…” He mumbled into your skin as he moved to the other side of the neck. His mind flickered with the memory of what’s on your collarbone, so he guided his mouth towards it, and your back arched a bit at the feeling on your sensitive skin.

You gasped when you felt his mouth engulf the mark someone else had left on your skin. Steve groaned, his hands digging onto your waist, fingers printing on your skin through the damp towel. He was going to rebrand you. He didn’t want traces of the other man on you. He had to cover them. Gladly, this was the only mark he could see that needed to be erased.

He made it messy, bigger, red with purple hues all around it. He pulled away to admire his work, and his entire body shook when he saw you underneath him. Your wet hair was all over the mattress, your chest moving up and down, your eyes half lidded, and your lips all swollen thanks to his kisses.

And his mark. Now big. Vibrant.

His jaw clenched, moving downwards again to take your lips with his only for a peck, making you whine when you felt him pull away. He chuckled slightly, his lips moving to nip at your jaw, to then breathe into your ear, his hips now moving in circles against you, and you could only gasp and moan at the feeling of his bulge rubbing against your clit.

“I’m so mad at myself–” And you felt him bite onto your earlobe, making you sigh. “So fucking mad… I wanted to be your first. I really wanted to…” He sighed against your ear and then moved down to kiss underneath it. “But I can work with being your last, so please– Please, Sunshine–”

“Steve–” You breathe out, your nails digging into his shoulder blades, feeling him grow bigger in his pants. He didn’t hear you, or that’s what you thought at least, because you felt him kiss your pulse point again, making a moan escape your lips. “Steve–”

He finally realized you were calling out to him, so he pulled away from you, breathing heavily. His eyes looked down at you, and you could see the fire inside his hazel orbs. How much desperation, hunger, and emotions swerved inside.

“You don’t– Not now–?” You shushed him, shaking your head at him, your eyes finding his lips, you were already missing.

“You… can still be my first.”

And Steve stopped breathing. What did you just say?

“What?” The question came out more cracked than he anticipated, but he couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t. Your eyes were looking up at him, a guilty frown appearing on your eyebrows as you looked away, gulping down your nervousness.

“I– I couldn’t…” And fuck, you didn’t want to cry. You really didn’t, but there were so many feelings coursing through you that you could barely begin to describe each one. Your voice cracked a bit as you kept talking. “I kept– I kept thinking about you… And I just couldn’t… I fucking couldn’t…”

And Steve could sense the hidden anger behind your tone. Not directed at him, but probably at yourself. He had rejected you, and an opportunity presented to you, one you wanted to experience before you passed, or before something happened, and you could not fulfill it because… of him.

How could he have been so fucking stupid? He really didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve you. You thought of him in times when the only person you should care about is yourself. Steve didn’t deserve you… But even with that knowledge, Steve wasn’t going to ever let you go. He was going to fight to be the man you deserved. Not a boy. A man.

And he felt so selfish for feeling happy about this outcome. He felt so evil for feeling relief out of you not having your first time with that man. He felt so greedy for feeling happy that now, he was the one to experience you first. Hoping he would be the last as well. That you would know of no other body but his.

But then it dawned on him just how rough he was being. How straightforward he was. Fuck, this should be special, and he was acting like an animal. He wanted to wreck you just seconds ago, ruin you for eternity, but now, all he wanted was to make this special. Make your first time be a nice one, almost painless.

So he drew his hips back, and your head snapped towards him again, desperate eyes following, which caught him off guard. Your arms came to wrap around his shoulders again, your head shaking from side to side. He gulped, his hips stuttering with the need to press down again, but fuck– He wanted to be a gentleman.

“Sunshine–”

“Steve, baby, please–” His brain chemistry completely malfunctioned at the nickname. His hips came crashing down onto you, instantly, as if he were magnetized. A moan escaped your lips before you spoke again. “I want it. I want you. Please…”

“Are you sure?” He had to ask and hear that this was fine from your part. His self control was wavering the more he thought of what was about to happen, trying to remember where were the condoms Eddie had jokingly brought into the fucking RV.

You gave him a nod, his hair falling over his face as he stared down at you. The both of you were breathing heavily, looking down at each other, eyes filled with need, with want, with desperation. He gulped as his head reeled with anticipation, his eyes falling to the knot that secured the towel to your chest.

His eyes found yours again, and you gulped, fingers kneading into his scalp softly. You gave him a slow nod again, wanting him to continue. You needed him to continue. You’ve been craving this for too long. You’ve been craving someone like him for too long.

He pecked you once, soft, long, and your belly turned with the amount of butterflies that just burst inside. When he pulled away, his hand moved towards the knot, slowly, fingers grazing over the fabric. He would see you bare. He would be able to drink you in, completely, and his heart could barely stand it.

“Stevie…” And when you whisper his name sweetly, it does it. His fingers hook inside, and he is pulling–

The side door of the RV bursts open, fierce stomps rushing in as well as jagged breaths from your other two friends, who you have forgotten completely about for the past minutes. Or hours. It felt like hours. Kissing Steve felt endless, if you had a say. Steve hissed when he pressed himself completely on you so your dignity would not be displayed to the people who had just entered.

“SORRY, LOVEBIRDS, WE GOTTA GO!!!” Eddie yelled once, not before turning his head to see the display of Steve on top of you on the bed. He wanted to yell in victory, but the slam of the RV’s door closing snapped him away, and he sprang into action again, running to the driver’s seat.

Nancy was breathing heavily, her eyes widening at the scene at the back of the RV, making her squeal and clench her eyes tightly as she rushed towards the folding screen that separated the bedroom from the rest of the RV, blindly waving her hands around to try to give you guys privacy. Steve was frowning, his head looking over his shoulder in complete and utter confusion as Nancy finally closed the blinds.

“What is going on!?” He yelled, and you were still in another dimension, trying to gather yourself again to understand the situation. You could hear Nancy yelling, and then a slam at the top of your head, at the top of the RV. Then another. Your fear creeped in as Steve snapped his head to look up, then the engines came to life.

“EDDIE TOUCHED SOMETHING HE SHOULDN’T HAVE!” Nancy yelled, and you could feel your heart hammering in your chest at the mix of emotions that threatened to send you into cardiac arrest.

“How was I supposed to know THESE FUCKERS CAN REPRODUCE!? I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS A NEST!” At that, Steve grew a bit more alarmed, but before he could ask, he was jerked into the bed with you, further up, thanks to the sudden speed Eddie started driving in.

“Shit!” Steve’s arms held onto you as a few slams could be heard outside the RV, and when he looked out the window, he saw the demobats flying next to their motorhome.

“If only YOU WEREN’T BEING AN ASSHOLE TO ME, AND ACTUALLY LISTENED, THIS WOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED!” Nancy was still yelling, and your arms were wrapped tightly around Steve as the RV suddenly swerved, turning left, and you squealed when you two started rolling to the right.

“Jesus CHRIST!” You yelled as Steve used his foot to prevent you from slamming into the wall behind you, his arms still around your body, your face tucked into his chest. The slams against the RV became less, and then, there was another swerve to the right, sending you both rolling towards the left.

“MUNSON!” Steve yelled as his back collided with the wall, making a grunt escape him. He was trying to hold you close so that your towel would also not fall from your body. The RV drove fast, steady, rocking a bit, and then he felt Eddie slowing down. He let out a sigh, looking around the ceiling, seeing some dents on the corners from the hits of the monsters, but nothing too big.

“OKAY, I THINK WE’RE CLEAR!” You heard Eddie yell, and you let out a sigh of relief at the same time Steve did.

“You okay, Sunshine?” Your heart never stopped beating like crazy, first from happiness, then adrenaline and fear, and now from happiness again. Steve is in your arms, and you are in his. You gulped, nodding, looking up at him.

“Y-Yeah… I– What the fuck happened?” Steve groaned as he glared at the closed blinds, before looking down at you again. He really didn’t want to let go of you, but he didn’t want you to catch a cold. He kissed your forehead, making the both of you sit up again.

“I’ll find out. Meanwhile, you get dressed.” Your eyes scanned his features, and you couldn’t help yourself when you raised your hand up, moving his hair away from his eyes, and he felt the air being sucked away from his lungs at your gesture. He took your lips with his in a gentle kiss, short, pulling away when the two of you heard grunting on the other side.

“Don’t let them kill each other…” You softly spoke, and he huffed, shaking his head. He gave you one more kiss on your cheek before standing up, and moving the folding screen so he could walk out. Nancy and Eddie shut their mouths when Steve closed the screen again, a glare in his features as he walked towards the front.

Neither Eddie nor Nancy was looking at him. They looked guilty and nervous. From what Steve gathered, it was Eddie who started it, so his hand found his friend’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen underneath him as the grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Munson.” Eddie gulped, clearing his throat, knowing he fucked the most amazing opportunity up for his best friend.

“I– Uh… Well, what happened was, Harrington–” But Nancy cut him off completely.

“He was being an ass, and I told him he should not touch the glowing thing in the cave–”

“A cave, Mrs. Wheeler, here, walked in first, by the way–”

“I didn’t put a gun to your head to follow me in!” She yelled back, to which Eddie glared at the road, scoffing.

“Oh, so you want me to just watch my best friend enter a dark cave, all by herself!?” He spat back, and Nancy fake laughed, shaking her head.

“So, now I’m your best friend!? That’s so fucking rich–!”

“HEY, HEY, HEY!” Steve finally yelled, waving his hands around, trying to stop them from talking, and Nancy looked at him, while Eddie closed his mouth. “So, what the fuck happened?”

“... I– I didn’t know it was an egg…” Eddie finally confessed, and he gulped as he continued, “It was just so shiny! And it looked like a pimple! I just–”

“Don’t tell me you popped it like a pimple, or I swear to god–” Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, but Eddie remained silent. Nancy was quiet for a few seconds, knowing Steve was growing angrier, and even when she didn’t want to defend Eddie… She couldn’t help herself.

“On our defense… It’s the first time we've found a nest that belonged to them…” At her words, Steve finally sighed, letting the air out. Still– His hand came flying to the back of Eddie’s head, making him headbang once, and then he pinched Nancy’s nose, making her squeal and swat him away.

“This is what you get for being stupid. Both of you.” Steve wasn’t going to say it out loud, but he also wanted to strike them for interrupting him. He felt eyes on him, and he saw Eddie looking at him through the rear-view mirror. “What?”

Eddie started wiggling his eyebrows at him, which only made Steve blush, and cross his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. He suddenly remembered, he was supposed to take over with Eddie, and that meant he wouldn’t be able to be with you. He felt his heart quickening its pace at the prospect of leaving your side again, but, Nancy… She would be awake for 24 hours straight if he changed his spot with hers.

“Nance, you… You should uh… Go to bed.” Steve started, trying not to wince from the pain of those words. Nancy scoffed, shaking her head.

“As if it weren’t obvious enough, we are changing places.” Eddie’s eyes widened slightly, worry flashing over them. Steve stuttered a bit, shaking his head.

“No, that’s– You need to sleep–”

“You need to sleep.” It wasn’t an insult or a bad joke. Nancy looked at him with serious eyes, her lips pressed together, as if stern. “So, we are changing places.”

“... She is right, Steve.” Eddie commented, his eyes not leaving the road as he drove. Steve’s jaw clenched with conflict, about to try to talk Nancy out of it, but then she continued, straightening up again on her seat, looking out the window.

“Plus, it gives me private time to talk a bit with this asshole here, who is also my best friend… so…” Eddie huffed a laugh, but didn’t complain. Steve looked back and forth on them, knowing they did in fact need to talk, but Nancy’s health also mattered.

“I know more than anyone what lack of sleep can cause–”

“It’s just 24 hours, Steve… I’ll be fine.” Nancy gave her final word of it, and Steve knew it. He sighed, the RV rocking slowly now as Eddie kept his eyes on the road. He then talked, interrupting the silence between the three of them.

“Big boy, they’re in the cupboard below the sink, by the way.”

“Huh?” Steve asked, completely confused, and Eddie smirked, looking over his shoulder as Steve leaned in, the scene all too familiar.

“Condoms.” Steve blushed a deep red, smacking the back of Eddie’s head again, eliciting a pained groan from the metal head. Nancy tried to hide a giggle, putting her palm over her mouth.

For a split second, everything was normal again.

“Steve?” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, his heart stopping for a second before he turned around to see you peeking out from the folding screen. He could feel his body warming up again, knowing he would hold you tonight, sleep with you, just sleep with you, was enough to make him believe he was the luckiest man in the world.

He gave Nancy one last glance, and she gave Steve a nod and a soft smile. The first smile after days. He felt the corner of his lips tug, turning to finally walk back to you. He closed the door behind him, and you were already tucked in bed, sitting, waiting for him.

Your eyes followed him when he opened a drawer from underneath the bed, taking out his sleep shirt and sweatpants. You licked your lips in anticipation, wondering if he would change in front of you or not. Should you cover your eyes? Maybe? You’ve seen him shirtless, sure–

The moment he took his shirt off, embarrassment filled every inch of your body. You hid your face in your bent knees, against the comforter. You felt your stomach doing somersaults, and you could feel a tornado inside of it as well. Privacy. You are giving him privacy.

And Steve was planning on going to change to the bathroom, but since you were hiding yourself already, which he thought was cute, there was no harm in changing here. You are so shy now. He noticed it. Your voice when calling out to him was small, doubtful. He took his pants off, his eyes never leaving your form to check if you were peeking or not, and he put his sweatpants on, followed by his shirt.

“You can uncover your eyes, Sunshine.” He chuckled when you looked up at him, and he could see just how flushed you must be. He crawled into the bed, sitting next to you. “You already saw me in my underwear, and I saw you, remember? No need to be embarrassed…”

You whimpered at the memory, looking away from him as you felt your cheeks burn a thousand degrees. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, bashful, too nervous to even look at him, despite what almost happened between you two.

“Those were– very different circumstances…” Steve hummed a bit, now realizing what you meant. He had to take it a bit slow, at least until you were relaxed around him. He leaned towards you, pressing a kiss at the top of your head that made your heart jump into your throat. Your eyes found his, and after so long, after so many weeks, he finally smiled at you.

“Hi, baby.”

Those words coming out of him made your entire body melt. Your fingertips grew itchy, with the need to touch, and your lips became dry. It was more than just the nickname. It was the smile you had been missing for so long. The smile that had disappeared from his features, was now back, and it appeared when he looked at you.

Your eyes filled with tears, yet you gave him a soft smile as well, your nose bumping his.

“Hi, Stevie…”

☀︎

FINALLY. HUH?

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx @bananasplits-world @myharrington @btskzfav@hawkeyeharrington

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington smut

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phantomamour · 3 days ago

Note

i want to clark kent to eat me out with his glasses on 🤗🤗🤗 shirtless with sweatpants low on his hips no underwear he’s probably humping the bed while he does it😄😄

so i finally got around to answering this while avoiding some physics today and yeah... yeah this is hot... it's also way longer than i intended it to be... guess it's time to make a clark masterlist lmao

clark is a service top through and through in my head and part of that involves loving to go down on his girl. when you've had a rough day and you're tired of being as wound up as you are, clark is on his knees in seconds. when you're stressed about something at work in the morning, unable to sleep well all night, he'll get on his knees in the shower before you two get ready for the day. often times, without a bed involved, he'll have to prop your thighs on his shoulders because he's just too tall otherwise and he'll hold you up to work his tongue into you happily.

but when he drags you to bed, that's when you know he needs it just as much as you do. he'll close your shared apartment door behind you when you get home finally and kiss you before either of you can say a word and you just know what he needs. it helps you unwind but it also helps him. he'd been out superman-ing while you worked late and now he just needed you underneath him--he needed to make you feel good to turn off his own speeding mind.

he's already shirtless and you can tell from how low his sweatpants are sitting on his hips that he had forgone his boxers when changing, the v of his hips on breathtaking display with a trail of hair leading down to his prominent bulge. he doesn't have to say anything for you to know where he's taking you, holding your face in his hands and kissing you as he walks you backward to the bedroom. but when he gets you on the bed, when you're finally laid out for him, he has to take a moment just to look at you.

"i can't believe you're mine," he'll whisper before moving to kiss you again, his lips dragging down the bare skin of your neck as he works your shirt up your chest. he takes his time working his way down your body, kissing every inch of skin he can uncover. he always grumbles when you wear pants, simply because of the extra time it takes to slip them off. but when you wear a skirt, he's simply moving it up and letting it rest along your hips; he'll take it off later.

the first drag of his tongue is nearly brutal, too light to do anything but make you squirm, like he's testing his own strength even if he's done the act a hundred times. he doesn't want to break you; he just wants to devour you for the night. you don't even notice the movement of his own hips at first, too lost in the way he sucks your clit until your back is arching off the bed. but then you hear the subtle creak of the bed and the clouds in your head dissipate enough to look down at him. oh what a sight to behold.

clark's glasses haven't been discarded yet. they're sliding down his nose and fogging up a little, but he's too blissed out between your thighs to care. his hair is a mess from you tugging on it and when he pulls up to look at you, you can see your slick across his lips and the blissed out look in his eyes.

"baby..." he can barely get the word out, like it's killing him to be parted from you. the creaking is still present and when you look past his head, you can see that he's grinding into the bed just enough to look truly in a trance. you've hyponotised him; you know his mind is off just as much as yours if not more. and when he brings his mouth back to your core, when you jump at the sensation of his tongue slipping inside of you again, he lets out a low moan that vibrates into you.

you know his sweatpants will need a thorough wash by the time he's done. he's not coming up for air again until you've cum at least twice on his tongue and he will happily hump the bed through as much overstimulation as it takes until you're limp under his touch. his pleasure comes from giving you pleasure and he swears it's better at clearing his mind than flying through the atmosphere at the speed of sound.

#clark kent x reader #clark kent smut #clark kent #clark kent imagine #superman x reader #superman smut #superman #superman imagine #asks

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bernardsbendystraws · 3 days ago

Text

You Don’t Own Me

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chris Sturniolo lives by his own rules, refusing to be controlled. Some see him as a rebel, a troublemaker—but is that the full truth? Meanwhile, Y/N is focused on making the most of her last year of high school, determined to have a normal teenage experience. But when their worlds collide, they realize they may have more in common than they ever expected.

WARNINGS: COPYRIGHT NOTICE. crying, emotional, angst, fluff, and more

A/N: I’m not ready to let go 😭💔

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ FINAL ] P31: You Don't Own Me

I feel fucking clueless.

Our final project is done. Shawn and I finished it throughout this past week, trying to rush through all the procrastinated work which left me little to no time to think—which I desperately needed to.

There’s not much time to really do anything but panic. I have to make a decision. Only a week left before I have to choose if I’m packing my bags to move with Chris or not.

And I just don’t know.

“Hey, you good?” Matt asks, his voice layered with concern as he stares up at me from his phone. Mia’s sitting with her legs across his lap, the living room full of three of us on both couches.

“Yeah, um,” I nod hesitantly. The anxiety pulses through my veins, the sight of the sun sinking below the horizon outside making my stomach churn. “-’m fine.”

Mia’s lips slide into a subtle pout, her eyes analyzing me with precision as I grow stiff under her gaze. She knows. I don’t have to hear it to understand that she sees how utterly clueless I feel.

“You sure?” Mia chirps, narrowing her eyes as I nod again.

Somehow that girl could just read me—she could read anyone. Chris hates it. She’s called him out a couple times.

One time, he was just…off. I couldn’t explain it, but she called him out for being all sad, saying he should stay out in the living room so all four of us could hang out.

Chris surprisingly didn’t snap back. He nodded, pulling me into his lap while we all nestled in the living room and played random games.

It’s become a routine now. My favorite games are the stupid ones—the random questions of ‘would you rather’ that made us all rally up with the most bizarre explanations.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be back,” Matt says, brushing off his jeans as he stands before walking down the hallway.

My hands fiddle in my lap. I hear the bathroom door shut softly, taking a glance up to see Mia fully leaned forward, her eyebrows lifted as she tilts her head to the side.

“So…” Her eyes dart around the room. I hear the click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, wincing as she lets out a heavy sigh. “-you gonna talk or am I gonna have to pry?” she questions.

“It’s just…ugh.” I huff, my eyes squinting shut as I try to block out the overwhelming thoughts that had been echoing in my mind every minute of every day.

“I don’t know what to do. Nothing…nothing seems like the right thing to do. Staying here without Chris…like…why? What’s the point? I’d have his family but that…I don’t know…it doesn’t…ugh.”

My words roll off my tongue with a loud sigh. Mia squints her eyes at me, rolling her lips together before shrugging. “-well—what’s holding you back?” she asks.

“I…I don’t wanna feel like this is it for me—like I’m only doing it for him, you know?” Mia nods at my words, her eyes full of compassion as she offers a sympathetic smile. “-I just…I think I need to talk to some people first.”

“Yeah,” she puffs, planting her hands on her knees as she lets out a heavy breath, “-I agree. Go talk, go think—really think for yourself, then make a decision.”

___

He’s rambling. Baylen has been speaking for at least five minutes, telling me the perfect option instead of going with Chris.

“-Ryan probably won’t mind—we have a spare room in our apartment, you could stay–”

“Baylen.”

His name falling off my lips in a sullen tone makes his lips fall open wordlessly. I twiddle my fingers together, my eyes darting out the living room window as I feel Trevor scoot closer against my thigh.

The sunlight beams in through the windows. It feels odd to haven Baylen over here, but Chris said it was better if I invited him over here to talk. He was right. I couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the house I grew up in—I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to give another bittersweet goodbye to everything within those walls.

I roll my lips together. My nose twitches as I feel Baylen’s gaze burn into me. “Ryan…he’s my ex. We dated years ago.” I mention.

His face drops. He shakes his head, his lips smacking open and shut before he lets out a dry laugh. “Wow…I…I really don’t know you, huh?” he tuts, his voice strained.

I reach over, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stays deathly still. His hands stay rested in his lap, his gaze trained towards the floor as he stares blankly.

“It’s not your fault, I didn’t tell you—”

“He’s right—Chris.”

My eyes narrow. Baylen moves, his hand resting on top of mine before he pulls my hand off his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You…you should go with him, I…” he shakes his head, turning towards me with sad eyes, “-I don’t get to try and swoop in and act like I deserve to be there for you now. You…he’s proven himself a lot. He—he deserves to have you—you deserve to heal.”

My bottom lip wobbles. I feel a wave of warmth crawl over my face, my cheeks growing hot as my vision starts to blur.

“Baylen, you tried your best—”

“No. I didn’t.” he says, a soft smile etched over his features. “-I tried my best for me, not for you. Chris…he can take care of you—he has taken care of you. I’m here when you need me, but,” his eyes flicker over my face, his lips tugging into a sympathetic frown, “-but you deserve to feel safe and heal. I…I can’t give that to you right now. He can.”

His hand squeezes mine. I feel the tears in my eyes flooding my sight, my eyes squinting as I feel a warm streak of wetness glide down my cheek. Baylen tugs my hand tighter, pulling me into his chest before wrapping his arms around me tightly.

“I’m sorry,” his voice breaks, his arms cradling me closer, “-’m sorry and…and…I hope I can be the brother you deserve one day.”

A sharp cry leaves my lips. My hands are pressed between both of us as he tightens his arms around me.

Years of confusion, years of feeling so alone, so hurt. I finally feel validated. All of it was for a reason. He didn’t just stop loving me one day—it wasn’t my fault. It all makes sense.

And even though it hurts, there’s still hope.

___

“I’ll get it, just…just sit down.”

Chris is anxiously pulling any box I try to lift into his own arms. Jimmy and Matt helped us bring over a bunch of stuff yesterday, we had yet to unpack the stacks and piles of everything.

The vacation home was filled with new stuff. My own picture of Baylen and I is sitting on top of the fireplace mantle. It’s a photo of us in his room from a week ago. We tried to recreate the blanket of forts we used to make, he insisted on capturing a good moment so I would have a reminder of him.

I really liked it.

My hands latch onto a small bin. The plastic handles are snatched from my grip before I can even comprehend what’s going on. I look up with a shocked expression. Chris spares me a quick smile, turning with the box in his own hands before carrying it down the hallway.

Looking around, I shake my head, rolling my eyes as I see the lack of boxes. I had yet to even carry one successfully. Chris had taken care of every single one, practically running back and forth so there would be no opportunity for me to pitch in and help.

“Here let me—oh? That’s all of them?” Chris pants, out of breath as he scratches the back of his neck.

I shake my head with disbelief, plopping down on the couch. Chris sits next to me. His weight dibbets the sofa cushions, making me lean into him more.

A wave of silence beams over us. I look over to see his eyes glazed over, concern laced in his features as he stares forward with his brows scrunched together.

Moving, I swing my leg over his lap, plopping myself on his thighs. His hands immediately latch onto my waist. Chris stares up at me with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, his fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“You okay, baby?” he asks.

I tilt my head, cocking an eyebrow as I let out a huff. “Are you?” I quip.

“Um, I…” He lets out a sigh as I comb my hands through his hair. His eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong, Chris?” I interrogate, worried as his eyes fall with a sullen glaze of sadness.

“Are you…are you sure about this? I mean, it’s a lot, we’re moving in together—”

“Chris.” I cut off, watching as his eyes drift back up to mine with uncertainty, “-I want this, I want to be with you. Why are you still overthinking so much? I chose to come.”

He sighs. His hands grip my hips tighter, swarming up to my waist before he lets out a shaky breath. “I just…I don’t want you to feel like I’m controlling you—or like I own you—”

I place my hands on his shoulders. Leaning forward, I let my lips press against his gently. The kiss is brutally soft, a gentle pucker echoing.

Pulling away, I laugh at his dazed expression. His lashes slowly flutter open, his eyes darting into mine with a glow of adoration.

“I know you don’t control me, Chris, I…” I cup his cheek, my lips tugging into a smile as he leans into my touch, “-you don’t own me—but…but my heart belongs to you.”

His face brightens with joy. I smile as he tugs me in a tight embrace, laughing as he peppers kisses on the side of my head.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispers, pressing his lips over my jawline and towards the corner of my mouth, “-I love you, I love you, I love you.”

The chanted mantra makes my heart flutter in my chest. I let myself melt in his hold, smiling as he continues to mutter the same words under his breath.

“Chris,” I giggle.

He pulls away just enough for our eyes to meet. The shit-eating grin on his face makes it hard for me to bite back a painful smile.

“Can you say that again?” he asks.

“Hmmm….” I pretend to wonder, looking aimlessly around the room before feeling his hands squeeze my waist to pull my attention back to him. He looks into my eyes with hope and pure devotion. I feel my cheeks ache, my smile growing as I bathe in his dreamy eyes. “-what did I say?”

Chris bites lightly onto his bottom lip. “You know…” His tongue prods from the inside of his cheek, his eyes glowing with love. “-you don’t own me, but…”

He repeats my words, his gaze searching into my own while his hands give a reassuring squeeze on my waist.

I let my vision blur, my eyes only blurring everything except for him. Biting back a smile, I let the words float off my lips;

“You don’t own me…but my heart belongs to you.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading along and showing any sort of support! I've adored writing this series and I hope you enjoyed reading! Thank you <333

with love and big tits, rose

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salty-tang · 1 day ago

Text

The Suit Problem™

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Congresswoman!Reader

Summary: someone commented, and i quote verbatim "I can't imagine Bucky in a suit without thinking of him flexing & accidentally ripping his sleeves. Just to share that imagery."

Warnings/ tags: MATURE THEMES, Original Characters galore, political tension with feelings, lots of tension, suit kink (very heavily implied), emotional restraint and physical damage, making out in federally inappropriate spaces (the bathroom), clothed intimacy

Word count: 3k

off the record masterpost || AO3 || congressman bucky masterpost

The First Time It Happens

It’s a standard afternoon hearing – oversight – dry, procedural, and criminally under-attended. Some poor GAO witness is walking the committee through a line-by-line breakdown of federal allocations for energy storage grants. You’re barely following. The numbers aren’t the problem, the problem (as is with many other things in life these days) is Bucky Barnes.

Specifically, Bucky in the third chair diagonally to your left, rolling back his shoulders and shrugging his jacket up higher on his frame like it isn’t already fighting for its dear life. Like the seam at his right shoulder isn’t straining with every millimetre he moves.

You’ve seen the shrug before. He does it when he’s bored. When he’s too warm. When he knows you’re watching.

It makes him look younger – unruly and a little too charming for your peace of mind.

Normally, you can take it.

But then –

riiip

A soft tear. Audible, but just barely. Right at the seam where his sleeve meets his right shoulder. Not the metal arm.

The flesh one.

You don’t mean to look. But you do, reflexively.

The fabric’s split open like a bad alibi, pulled too tight over muscle he has no business keeping in that good of a shape. The shirt underneath clings and you can see the edge of his bicep where the cotton’s pulled taut.

You freeze.

Then you blush.

And then you realize you’re blushing, and you nearly drop your pen.

He looks over. Of course he looks over.

He knows.

And his mouth quirks up like he’s won something, and perhaps he has.

You tear your eyes away and pretend to reread your notes, except that your entire mental slate has just been wiped clean by the sight of one extremely illegal shoulder doing irreversible things to navy wool blend.

Mills, three chairs behind you, texts the group slack in real time:

He BROKE THE JACKET. That’s the REAL oversight. my kinsey score will never recover

You press your lips together. You do not react. This is a federal setting.

But somewhere in the back of your head – right between this is wildly inappropriate and I did not know this was a thing for me – there’s a voice whispering: not even the metal arm. Jesus Christ.

In the Hallway Immediately After

You catch him just outside the hearing room. You're clutching your notes to your chest – mostly to hide the fact that your hands are shaking slightly. From frustration, obviously.

“Barnes,” you call out.

He turns, slow. Too slow. His suit jacket’s slung over one shoulder now, exposing the ripped seam like it’s a war medal.

You narrow your eyes. “Do you enjoy making my staff reconsider their sexuality during active committee meetings?”

He bites down on a smile. "It was an accident."

A pause.

Then – lower, silkier, “your staff, or you?”

You go still.

It’s not fair, the way he says it. Like he’s just asking a question and he isn’t the living embodiment of every problem you’ve ever sworn to ignore.

Your jaw tightens. “Don’t test me, Barnes.”

He smiles properly now – wolfish, pleased. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You take a step closer. That’s your first mistake because he smells like cedar and clean soap and faint Capitol dust, and he’s still doing that thing – head tilted slightly, mouth soft at the corners, like he knows exactly how close you are to either slapping him or kissing him.

“That’s a campaign funded jacket,” you say, voice low. “You keep destroying them like this and I’m going to have to file you under infrastructure damage.”

“I’ll expense it,” he says, deadpan. “Line item 22: legislative tension.”

You exhale sharply. “You know you’re not supposed to look like that in public. It's unbecoming of a Congressman.”

He leans in, just a little.

“You keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, “and I’ll break the other seam too.”

Your breath catches.

He sees it and smiles.

“You’re impossible,” you say, weakly.

“You’re flustered.”

“I’m not.”

He shrugs.

Again.

The sound that comes out of you isn’t quite verbal.

Somewhere behind you, a staffer coughs awkwardly.

You straighten up and smooth your blouse, all while pretending that your entire blood supply hasn’t migrated somewhere wildly inappropriate for federal property.

“I’m telling Mike to order you three new jackets,” you say, already turning to leave.

“Better make it four,” he calls after you. “Just in case I sit down too fast.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back, because you're smiling.

The Fitting

The tailor is a compact, fastidious man named Victor. He works out of a discreet Dupont Circle storefront and has measured no fewer than four Supreme Court justices and at least one war criminal. Nothing rattles him.

Enter Bucky Barnes.

You are only here because you know Victor personally. That, and because Mike flagged Bucky’s latest jacket incident with a single phrase in your shared calendar:

URGENT: Barnes needs congressional-grade tailoring before someone loses an eye.

Victor gestures for Bucky to step onto the platform. “Try lifting your arm.”

Bucky rolls his left shoulder back in a deceptively casual shrug. The fabric of his shirt pulls like it's being winched over a steel cable. You hear it before you see it – a subtle groan of resistance from the sleeve.

There’s a long, painful pause.

"Okay," you say slowly, eyes fixed on the fabric. "So that’s a no."

The tailor clears his throat. “We might need a reinforced seam or – pardon me – structural adjustments for… exceptional anatomy.”

You hum. “Exceptional anatomy. That’s generous.”

Bucky shoots you a look, half mortified, half amused. “You dragged me here.”

“Because you tore your third jacket in two months,” you say, very calmly. “You can’t keep walking into committee hearings looking like you lost a bar fight with your own sleeves.”

He mutters something about deadlifting and polyester. You don’t respond. You’re too busy watching his biceps test the limits of a very expensive shoulder seam.

“I could just wear the old black suit,” he offers.

You raise an eyebrow. “The one you ripped open lifting a box of printed memos?”

"...It was a heavy box."

You shake your head as you pace about the store. You’ve chosen to pace because you will not be hovering while Bucky shrugs in and out of suit jackets like a Calvin Klein fever dream.

Victor starts measuring. Professional, focused, barely blinking until he gets to Bucky’s shoulders.

Victor sighs. “Sir, I’m going to need you to relax your shoulders.”

Bucky grins. “They are relaxed.”

You do not look over.

You will not look over.

Behind you, Jenna – assigned to ‘observe and document’ this appointment – is standing by the sample books, typing into her phone like a woman possessed.

#suitwatch (active)

[Jenna]: she just said “exceptional anatomy” out loud. in public. to his face. [Micah]: this is a First Amendment violation and also the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard [Devon]: sleeves are a construct. arms are forever. [Mills]: he’s looking at her like he’d say yes to anything even the double-breasted one even charcoal pinstripes

Victor measures in silence, muttering every now and then things like “This cannot be standard”, and, as he loops the measuring tape around Bucky’s chest, “I’m going to need heavier thread for the buttons.”

Bucky glances at you through the mirror with a smirk. “Enjoying the show, Congresswoman?”

You cross your arms and lift your chin. “I’m imagining filing a workplace complaint.”

He grins wider. “About my arms?”

“No, about your attitude.”

A pause.

Then, quieter, “though the arms are definitely a secondary violation.”

Victor drops his pen.

Victor retreats into the backrooms to retrieve a reinforced thread spool, muttering something in Italian that sounds less like measurements and more like final blessings, and you drop onto the edge of the leather bench to watch Bucky undo the last jacket with surgical precision and barely restrained biceps.

"Out of curiosity," you say, elbow on your knee, chin in hand, "how much can you bench?"

He glances over, mid-button, brows raised. "Why?"

You gesture vaguely at the battlefield of defeated suit samples around him. “Trying to figure out whether the problem is vanity sizing or the fact that your upper body mass violates OSHA standards.”

He pauses for a second to think. Then he shrugs one shoulder – very carefully, this time.

“Dunno. Probably a Hummer H1. Full bed. Loaded?”

You blink. “The military one?”

“Yeah.” He nods at you, expression infuriatingly mild. “Yeah. The old diesel kind. Not the electric one.”

You don’t dignify that with a response. Just press your lips together and mutter under your breath, “exceptional anatomy, my ass.”

Behind you, Jenna makes a strangled sound that might be a laugh or a quiet breakdown. You're not sure which.

Three weeks later…

The tailor’s delivery arrives at 10 am on the dot – three full suits, pressed and wrapped, with Victor’s signature scribbled on the invoice like he is issuing a personal challenge. Devon brings the garment bags to your office with a look that says I know everything and I’m telling the group chat the moment I leave this room.

You thank him, barely.

It’s sheer coincidence, of course, that the floor’s scheduled a major vote for the afternoon, the kind they put on banners and b-rolls. C-SPAN and Politico have already parked their crew outside the chamber. You yourself are already dressed for the day in a sharp navy suit, statement earrings, and subtle heels. You’ve been on camera twice this morning and will be again before the end of the day. You've barely had a chance to have your coffee.

And so it is just a function of practicality that Bucky Barnes shows up at your office just before noon with the sleeves of his day shirt rolled up and his tie stuffed in one pocket.

"Victor delivered?" he asks, already loosening the collar of his shirt as he toes the door shut behind him.

You gesture toward the rack. “Personally. Go with the charcoal pinstripes and try not to break it before the cameras roll.”

He unzips the garment bag and glances back at you. “Want me to change in here?”

“I don’t care where you change, Barnes,” you reply without looking up from your tablet, “as long as the jacket makes it through one vote without structural failure.”

He shrugs. “You staying?”

“I’ve got too much left to read," you say quietly, eyes still on the tablet, "and nowhere better to be.”

You keep your gaze fixed on the screen. You will not stare while he peels his shirt off like a man who has never once had to worry about being perceived.

You do not register the sound of buttons slipping free.

You do not notice the rustle of fabric, the stretch of muscle, the quiet exhale he lets out when the collar loosens.

The section header on your screen reads: Summary of proposed appropriations for FY26.

You’ve read the page four times. You would not be able to repeat its contents if your life depended on it.

He buttons the new shirt slowly, leisurely. You can hear it in the way he moves.

When he reaches for the jacket, you’re already standing.

You don’t say anything as you take the jacket down from its hanger, brush the shoulders once, and hold it out for him.

He pauses in front of you but doesn’t reach for it.

“I can do it,” he says softly.

You shake your head. “Let me.”

He turns without comment.

You slide the jacket up over his arms, settling the weight of it across his back. It fits like it’s supposed to – no pinching at the shoulders, no strain at the seams. You smooth it over his frame and let your hands linger just long enough to tell yourself you're just feeling for tension along the stitching.

You circle in front of him, new tie in hand. You adjust his lapels and button the top button of his shirt yourself, slow and firm.

Before you can speak, he asks – mildly, almost carelessly, but not really at all, “you gonna tie it for me?”

You respond by sliding the fabric around his neck, slow and deliberate, letting it settle against the collar of his new shirt. It fits – too well. Clean lines, pressed seams, nowhere to hide.

“You could do this yourself,” you murmur.

“Sure,” he replies. “But your approval ratings are better.”

You don’t rise to it, not out loud.

Instead, you start the knot.

Not fast. Not businesslike. You take your time, fingers grazing the hollow of his throat, the soft scrape of new cotton against your knuckles. He exhales – shallow, quiet, controlled.

You don’t finish it.

Just as the final loop would tighten, you let the tie fall slack in your hands and take a step back.

His brow lifts, amused. “Giving up?”

“Letting you contribute,” you say, tone dry. “God forbid you show up to a vote half-dressed again.”

He chuckles low in his chest, but finishes the knot with a flick of his wrist. His eyes don’t leave you. “You like the charcoal?”

You brush a speck of lint from his lapel. Let your palm settle there for a beat too long.

“Victor’s best work,” you murmur. “If you break this one, I’m filing that workplace hazard report.”

“I’d like to see that paperwork,” he says, leaning in. His voice drops. “Will it mention how close you’re standing?”

You tilt your head. “Only if you wrinkle the jacket.”

He smiles – sharp, wrecked, beautiful. You ignore it.

"You’re ready,” you murmur. It’s meant to be a statement, but it comes out feeling like a dare.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice lower than it needs to be.

You straighten the line of his collar and let your thumb graze the base of his throat like you have the right.

“Don’t ruin it until after,” you say, adjusting the knot at his throat like it’s the only thing you still have control over.

He leans in. “That a dress code policy or a personal plea?”

You say nothing and ignore the way your face heats up.

He lets the silence stretch, inordantely pleased.

Then, while adjusting his cuffs and grinning. "Either way, I'll try not to disappoint."

You step back. “You have five minutes to make it to chamber,” you say, tone even. “Go be legislative.”

He nods, heading for the door. But he does glance back once, shameless. "I'll do my best."

And then he's gone, leaving you standing in your office, adjusting the cuffs of your own jacket lilke it might keep your hands from shaking.

~*~

Recess is called five minutes into the session. Some kind of procedural delay – something wrong with the roll call, something about a faulty vote counter.

You’re not listening.

You’re watching him.

Bucky hasn’t looked away since you adjusted his jacket fifteen minutes ago. Since your fingers brushed the collar like you were daring him to keep it together. And apparently, he can't.

He waits until the chamber begins to thin before he moves – silent, clean, intentional – and you follow.

Neither of you speak.

You end up in one of the hallway bathrooms – technically gender-neutral, technically a staff washroom, technically not a place for professional misbehaviour.

But the moment the door clicks shut behind you, it stops being technical.

He turns and you’re already there.

Your hands immediately go to the lapels. Again. But not to fix them this time.

This time, you pull.

“You look like a problem,” he mutters.

“Then solve it.”

The kiss is not sweet. It’s not soft. It’s been months in the making. Every ripped seam, every stare across committee hearings, every time you told yourself you could handle the sight of him in a suit he doesn’t deserve to wear this well – it crashes down like a tsunami.

He grunts when your mouth meets his, and he crowds you into the counter. His hands are everywhere – hip, waist, jaw, anchored in your blazer like he has no intention of letting go.

You fist your hand in his tie – new tie, freshly pressed tie – and drag him closer until he groans into your mouth like it hurts.

“You said not until after,” he breathes against your neck.

“You waited,” you kiss him again, just to punish him for it. “Congratulations.”

His mouth curves into a smile, but it’s wrecked. “You gonna yell at me for the wrinkles?”

You grip the lapels again and pull.

“Try me.”

He laughs – low, feral, ruined– and kisses you deeper, hungrier. The jacket groans in protest under your grip. One of you knocks something off the counter that falls to the floor with a crash. You don’t even bother to see what it is.

He palms the back of your thigh and mutters, “still going strong. You stress-testing for structural failure?”

You kiss the edge of his jaw. “No,” you whisper. “I’m trying to cause it.”

His hands go under your blouse. Yours slip beneath his waistband like a threat. He grips the counter behind you like it’s the only thing anchoring him.

He shrugs. That goddamn shrug.

Your knees nearly give out.

“You’re going to ruin me,” you whisper.

“You’re letting me,” he says, somewhere between reverent and fucked.

Your phone buzzes with your two minute timer.

You pull back first. Barely, just enough to breathe.

Your lipstick is gone. His tie is a disaster. Your blouse is askew. The shoulder of his jacket is unmistakably wrinkled.

He touches just beneath your lip. His thumb lingers. “You should touch that up.”

You glance down. At the tie. The crease in the jacket. The faint imprint of your grip still visible across his chest.

"You won't fix it?" you murmur.

“I want them to wonder,” he says slowly, entirely unrepentant.

You hold his gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

You open the door and walk out first.

He waits exactly ninety seconds.

And follows.

A/N: I need to touch some grass!

off the record masterpost || AO3 || congressman bucky masterpost

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batskulldrag · 2 days ago

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“You’re what!?” You and the spell castor both exclaim.

“Insane. On a technicality.” Jax slides himself up and brushes off his pants.

You look between the two. Jax, as always, has a stupid smile plastered across his face. And Marcus, the idiot who just shot him with what is only ever referred to as the Lovecraft Spell, is cemented in place with his mouth agape.

“What technicality could possibly make you insane?” Marcus shrieks.

“You.” Jax points at him. “I’m ignoring. Where do you get off flinging insanity spells at every boy who makes pathetic cow eyes at your ex? Grow up.”

“You’re not insane.” You argue.

“You may just be the first person who ever said that to me.” Jax laughs.

“I demand to know how the spell had no affect on you!” Marcus steps forward.

“I told you, I’m already insane.” Jax scoffed.

“No, you’re not!”

“Do you mind calling up my dad and telling him that?” Jax rolled his eyes. “What exactly do you think insane means?”

“A raving lunatic! You should be trying to eat your own hands and mauling sheep! You should be screaming in horror at the sight of a butterfly! Or trying to convince people what the fourth dimension looks like.” Marcus did a bit of raving himself.

“Good god. And you were gonna hit me with that?” Jax cringed.

“I wasn’t aiming at you, you got in the way!”

“Cool, be a better shot. I’m going home.” Jax started walking away.

“What do you mean you’re insane?” You ask, baffled by Jax’s nonchalance.

“Look.” Jax sighed. “It all comes down to semantics. Einstein defined insanity as ‘doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result’. So, by that logic, lots of people are insane. Like anyone who thinks the two-party system is working.”

Today was not the day you would question what Jax meant by that.

“You mean to tell us that the spell didn’t work because of Einstein?” You feel a migraine developing.

“Well, yeah. Since insanity has been defined in tangible terms, plenty of people fall into that category. People are legally insane if they’re so mentally out of it that they don’t realize that they committed a crime. Clinically insane…”

“You were institutionalized.” You cut him off. “Clinically insane.”

“Finally, something good comes from my slippy sock vacation.” He grins.

“I refuse to believe it’s that simple.” Marcus stomps his foot.

“Wording and semantics do influence magic all the time.” You consider. “That’s why whishing spells, genies and prophesies are so much trouble.”

“This spell was written long before insanity was defined!” Marcus argues.

“And most of my friends can kill MacBeth, on account of not being a man of woman born.” Jax yawned.

“We’ve lived in fear of this spell for years, and now you tell me that it only has three outcomes!”

“It’s named after a writer from the nineteen hundreds; how old could it possibly be?” You argue.

“Nostalgia used to be considered a mental illness.” Jax added. “Frankly, I don’t think that an insanity spell would have any use.”

“I’m leaving.” You announce as you walk away.

“I’ll come with you.” Jax follows. “Yo Marcus, I’ll call you if I start feeling more depressed than normal!”

Once Marcus is well out of earshot you glance at Jax.

“What does cow eyes mean?” You ask.

“That stupid, sappy look you give someone you have a crush on.” Jax looks at the ground.

“Why is this how I’m finding out?” You grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

“In my defense, I was going to tell you, but then your petty ex started mind fucking people.” Jax held up his hands.

“Lord you’re stupid!” You release him.

“I can back off if you want me to.” Jax offered.

“Jax, I have one thing to say to you!” You poke him in the chest for emphasis.

“Yeah?” He looks hopeful, terrified and confused.

“That spell probably won’t work on me either.” You say quickly.

And then you pull him in for a kiss.

And you kiss him for a long time, because you know he’s going to say something silly after. Just like he always does when he’s flustered. And you feel your body tingling with excitement at the thought of whatever stupid thing he’s going to say.

You wonder what it means when you keep doing the same thing over and over again, hoping to get the same result.

"No... impossible! That spell should have driven you insane!" "Buddy, lookie here. I AM insane."

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tea-writes19 · 2 days ago

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lightning and rainbows | j.t.

pairing: joaquin torres x shy!reader

summary: sam & bucky ask for your help on a mission, leaving you smitten and in love with joaquin torres

w/c: 658

warnings: reader can control the weather, fluff, slight angst?, reader being insecure abt powers, social anxiety, swearing, joaquin being a lovesick cutie, pre-relationship, tfatws spoilers obvi

a/n: based on this request! lowkey misread the request so it's pre-relationship instead of established. So sorry nonnie, but i hope it still lives up to your expectations!! also lets not talk about how long this has been in my drafts okay...

When Sam and Bucky had asked for your help in stopping the Flagsmashers, you had been hesitant.

After the Battle for Earth, you had withdrawn from the superhero life. You had lost so many friends—no, family—that day, and you couldn’t see the point in continuing to save the world.

Yet here you were; sitting on the side of a German road waiting for Sam’s air force friend to come pick the three of you up after getting beat up by a group of super soldiers.

You sit between Bucky and Sam on the curb side as they bicker over the Flagsmashers and Walker and Sam giving up the shield. There’s a mini storm cloud over your head, drenching you in rain that you can’t control. Thunder sounding every time Sam and Bucky blame the other for something minuscule.

Your powers always went haywire whenever your emotions were running wild and the two bickering men on either side of you weren’t helping in your calm meditation practices that your therapist had given you.

When Bucky reaches across you to swing at Sam, You finally have enough. And without thinking you lay a palm against each of their chests, arms folded in an ‘x’ across your chest and sending a small bolt of lightning into both of them.

They go flying back in opposite directions, hair standing up and cursing. You jump up to apologize as you see the little strands of electricity crackling along Bucky’s vibranium arm and Sam begins ranting about his tech malfunctioning…

“Wicked…”

You whirl around at the sound of the voice, awe visible in it. There’s a flush to your cheeks as you notice Lieutenant Joaquin Torres leaning against a military issued jeep. His expression one of awe and wonder. He pushes off the driver side door, coming over to you as your mission partners gather their wits and clamber to their feet.

"That was awesome! Can you generate lightning strikes too?"

The flush on your cheeks deepens even more at his genuine excitement. You’ve always been self conscious of your powers. Never having been able to fully control them and the thundercloud above your head is a testament to that. You’re drenched to your core from the small rain cloud.

Yet Joaquin’s face stays full of childlike curiosity and excitement and your powers can’t help but to cause a little rainbow to form over the gray cloud, rain trickling to a sprinkle as you stutter out a response.

“I-I mean…I uh.” Sam cackles at your flustered state, both he and Bucky having forgotten their mini argument at the sight of you being reduced to a blushing school girl at the Lieutenant’s praise.

Joaquin just nods, little happy smile that makes him look like a golden retriever never faltering as he waits patiently for your answer.

“I-I can generate lightning strikes, b-but but I can’t really control it…” You trail off awkwardly, trying to calm your racing heart at the cute boy smiling so prettily at you.

His smile widens into a grin and he walks closer, seeming to not mind the light spray of rain and your soaking appearance. “That’s really cool! I wish I could zap Sam with lightning whenever.”

He says it with a light chuckle and you find yourself giving him a shy smile back. The rain from your storm cloud has slowed to a stop and the grey cloud fades as you stand before Joaquin. The rainbow staying much to Sam’s delight and your embarrassment.

Joaquin doesn’t notice or seem to put two and two together that the rainbow is because of him as he chatters on about how awesome your powers are and excitedly asks if you could show him more some time.

You can’t help but to fall a little in love with him at that moment in time. And you’re oblivious to how that feeling will only grow the more time you spend with the energetic Lieutenant…

taglist: @lottiewills @softpia

#tea ☆#requested ☆#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres #joaquin torres fanfiction #the falcon #falcon joaquin torres #joaquin torres fic #joaquin torres fluff

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faeyun · 2 days ago

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ˋ 𑁍 ⨾ THE HALL OF BLACK MOTH BRIDES 、 ❨ 𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑟 ❩

ghosts were real, that’s one thing that you knew for certain. when you marry the charming park jongseong, he sweeps you away to his gothic mansion that he lives in with his sister and away from all the tragedies your old life has dealt you. but, soon you find out that jay and his sister, along with the sinking mansion, harbors secrets that are too dark to keep hidden beneath the red clay the mansion sits on. with your ghostly visions and newfound ability to communicate with the dead, you learn that not all ghosts are made up of flesh and blood.

❛ 박종성 𝑥 𝑓!reader ❜ 𓈒𓈒 ❨ 歌 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ❩ 𓄵 𝓯𝒕. optometrist!jake & lady jimin!jay’s twin sister (oc) 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗆𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖺𝗎, 𝗀𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗎, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗍!𝗃𝖺𝗒, 𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 ＆ 𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝟣𝟫𝟢𝟢𝗌 𝖺𝗎 ✴︎ 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰… 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦 ＆ 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴／𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘦𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘫𝘢𝘺, 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘣𝘢… 𓏸 12OO 𝗼𝗳 27,OOO ╱ 𝓶. list ╱ 𝗲𝘀𝘁. 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝟯𝟬𝘁𝗵

( 𝓷 )。 aaaa here’s the teaser!! i’m so excited to write this, crimson peak is a movie i love so so much so i hope when this fic is finally released that i do it justice hehe~~ (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) let me know what you think of the teaser and if you’re excited for it!! enjoy!!! ♡♡♡ minors do not interact, you will be blocked. you must have an age listed on your profile for me to add you to the taglist.

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Ghosts are real. This much, you know.

Snow whips through your loose hair and makes your haggard breath cloud like smoke in front of your face, hiding the range of emotions your expression shifts between. You stare at your bloodied hand hovering in front of you and the ruined, bloodied sleeve of your white nightgown, nearly frozen tears falling down your even colder bloody cheeks. The snow paints the already bare scenery a hazy white, covering anything and everything in sight, save for one singular color that is too overwhelming not to be seen. One color that is forever burned into the deepest and darkest corners of your memory, and one you’d never ever forget.

A deep crimson red.

Your breath comes out shaky and you almost couldn’t feel the wild frigid air nipping at your fingertips and blood-splattered nose. Nor could you almost not feel the pain in your cheek from the deep gash across it. Almost. You inhale sharply, letting the newfound emotions settle and linger inside of you like the sun coming up over the horizon. A new dawn awaits over the peaks of the dark spires that you turn your back towards.

Finally, you breathe out a sigh of relief. This one more steady.

The first time you saw a ghost, you were ten years old. The year was eighteen eighty-seven and the memory of your mother was still fresh in your mind, and the heartbreak of losing her was at the forefront of it. You still couldn’t grasp the fact that she was actually gone, that you wouldn’t ever be able to see her again—snuggle up to her when you were scared or twirl in front of her with one of your new dresses that she had made especially for you.

Perhaps, at least you once thought, that this was all a manifestation of your grief.

You would never be able to say goodbye to her, would never hear her last words to you that weren’t through a handwritten note passed down to you from your father.

At least, that’s what you thought until the night your mother came back.

Rain fell down hard from the nighttime sky and you swore that the house shook with each growl of thunder. You huddled in your bed, scared out of your mind to even move. By now, you would have ran to your parents bedroom and your mother would’ve tucked you in between her and your father so you could sleep through the rest of the night. But, she wasn’t here anymore, and your father had barely left the room they once used to share since the funeral. The only time you saw him these days were when he was bidding you goodbye before going to work.

The clock loudly ticked from outside of your door and filled the silent room. You kept your eyes trained on the door instead of the shadows dancing along the green floral wallpaper of your bedroom. Tick-tock, tick-tock. It droned on endlessly and made your heart race more and more with each move of the hand.

You turned away from it finally, deciding to try and finally get some sleep, and to the wall. Your breathing refused to slow and the fact that your back was now turned to your surroundings scared you even more, but you were a big girl now, and you had to be brave without your mother’s help.

Clutching the big, ruffled collar of your white nightgown, you were about to close your eyes when you noticed that the ticking clock suddenly stopped. Behind you, the door to your bedroom creaked open slowly. You brought a hand to your mouth and covered it. Your heart raced more and you prayed that it was just your father or the housekeeper as tears began to well up in your eyes.

With bated breath, you turned to look at the door. It was opened to the hallway and as you sat up from your bed, you watched a shadow crawl against the furthest wall down it and to the clock at the end of it. Long, shadowed fingers were outstretched across it until the hallway was basked into darkness and a dark figure stepped forward.

It wore a black dress and a long, black tattered veil over its face. The breath was stolen completely from your lungs along with the words that were stuck in your throat. All you could do for a moment was watch the woman, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips as you tried to gain back the oxygen, as she got closer and closer.

At first, you thought she might’ve been the housekeeper before you looked more closely. The shadowed woman was transparent and with each step forward it was almost as if smoke curled from her ghastly body. Before she could step inside your room, you quickly turned away and curled yourself into a ball, your body shaking as your eyes screwed shut and you tried to force sleep to come; but it refused.

You daringly opened your eyes again and watched as the shadow of the tattered woman laid over you like a thick blanket. Suddenly, a long ghostly hand grabbed your shoulder and the woman leaned over you. Black smoke surrounded you as she began to speak.

“My child,” the ghost started in the disfigured voice of your mother’s, her fingers were skeletal and so was her face. It reminded you of the last time you saw your mother alive and you quickly squeezed your eyes shut again, scared whimpers escaping through your clenched teeth. “When the time comes, beware of Crimson Peak.”

You couldn’t take it anymore and you flew forward, a piercing scream reverberating from your small body. You looked around your bedroom again for the woman, only to find it completely empty—the clock at the end of the hallway ticking away. You got up from your bed hesitantly and walked to the door, examining the hallway. Tick-tock, tick-tock.

It would be years before you would hear that disfigured voice of your mother’s again, the same warning on her black tongue—before you would even begin to understand her desperate plea. You know now that it was a warning from out of time, once that transcended it due to your mother’s love for you, and one that you came to understand only when it was entirely too late.

Black moths circled around the light in the hallway, the candlelight glow barely there from being outshined by the light from the moon pouring in through the hallway windows. You stepped forward into it, your white nightgown dragging along the floor despite you hiking it up a little to walk. Stopping before the light, you stared at the dancing creatures as one of them sacrificed itself to the flame and the other perched on the stand of the light without it.

More moths flittered throughout the hallway, moths that you had never seen before—and certainly not at the amount you saw before you. You didn’t know what to make of it, so you quietly stepped backwards into your bedroom and closed the door, shutting out the sound of the grandfather clock.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

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pxpecxdy · 3 days ago

Note

Just thinking about if Robby takes a viagra sometime in the last hour or so of work because you guys have Big Plans but something happens and he cannot take you right home and there’s a lot of teasing and sexual tension in another setting (that does not compromise patient care. Or we could suspend fictional reality and keep it at the hospital. I’m up for anything).

YES YES YES YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSSS

TRAFFIC JAM

I've been thinking about this ask since I got it and just haven't had time to write it. I've done something similar to this and/or encouraged Rue to write something like this so my apologies if it's repetitive.

It's been a long day for the two of you. Multi vehicle pile up on the expressway. Both of your shifts ended three hours ago but right as you thought you were free to leave another patient coded. Finally everyone is stable and admitted and the two of you can go home. You both need that stress release. Robby jokes and teases as you walk to his car together that he's already taken one of those little blue pills. The rush to get home is even greater now.

However, one thing neither of you thought of was the detours caused by that never ending mess on the expressway. Normally, it's only a fifteen minute drive from the hospital to your shared place. But everyone has been rerouted to the side streets that makes your commute reaching the forty minute mark with stand still traffic. Robby keeps shifting in the drivers seat. At first you think he's just annoyed with all the traffic. Then you notice he's rock hard underneath his cargos.

You can't help but smirk at the sight. Your hand slips from your lap into his. He groans at the contact over his pants. His eyes snap from the car ahead and over towards your face. If looks could kill, you'd be buried six feet under. Your fingers work to undo the buttons and his hands tighten on the wheel.

"Let me make it better." You hush as you lean over the center console. His eyes are darting back and forth at the cars around them.

"Fuck..." He grunts as your hand pulls out his throbbing cock and your lips press against the tip. Robby can feel your smile against his dick and it's unfair. You slide your tongue up and down the length of him. He watches as you take him fully into your mouth, wet lips parted around his girth. Traffic is the last thing on his mind.

A car honks and he tenses up, only to realize he needs to move up more and he does. You begin to bob your head up and down his length. Vibrations from your moans buzz through him. It's not often that he lets you blow him, not when he wants to make the pills last. One of his hands stays white knuckled on the steering wheel. His other hand covers most of your head. His eyes are moving everywhere. He looks to his left and the driver next to him is looking at him.

"Stay down." He shoves your head down all the way. You bite back a gag. You try to pull away but his hand is holding you down. "There's people looking. Be good to me and swallow it all." He whispers like the other car can hear him. You hum in response, not able to do much else. His hips shift. He's lifting them up to your mouth. He's fucking your face. It's not long before he's cursing and grunting and filling your throat with his seed.

#ask melly 💌#dr robby x reader #dr robby #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch #viagra robby #i forgot this was in my drafts!#this was a banger concept!!!

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reminiscingthesea · 24 hours ago

Text

Part two of my stalker Phainon x nerdy reader fic!! You should be able to find part one just under this post!!

A/N- tysm again for the massive support and love on my last post, it’s honestly making me feel rlly happy and I’m genuinely considering making this a chapter by chapter fanfic (no promises tho idk what life may throw at me)

Synopsis- After establishing a friendship with you, Phainon simply can’t help but fall deeper in love with you. Yet, when an unknown variable- a pest- invades his peace, he feels as though things may take a dangerous turn for the worse.

Warning- Stalking, mentions of extreme violence towards another character, kidnapping, gore.

Ever since you and Phainon became friends, the two of you would always be texting each other nonstop! Talking about silly things like teachers, cute videos, random drama, and also more in depth things, such as your shared interest of historical relics.

Because of this, the two of you would often set up dates hang out days to take each other to a local museum to research ancient relics or texts. Other days, when the two of you are both free, you’d each be cooped up in a corner of the campus’ library, reading literature and talking to each other with enthusiasm when an interesting point was reached. Albeit, not without the sound of angry shushing from the old, cranky librarian at the front desk. She could really hear everything..

However, when you reject Phainon on a day out to a relic site-seeing place, he feels confused, upset, dejected, but most of all, angry. Very angry, especially after finding out why you weren’t available.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Phainon. But I won’t be able to join you tomorrow on our little weekly day out. I have plans with someone called Mydei? You know him, right?” You spoke nonchalantly, flashing him a quick, apologetic smile as you watched him momentarily deflate at your initial rejection, before turning away just as quickly, not able to see his face morph into a look of wrath once you mentioned that name.

He stayed silent for a few moments, before beginning silently. His tone sharp and cold as he spoke, “Yeah, I happen to know who he is. Mydeimos, son of Gorgo or something. He’s a recent transfer student, isn’t he? What’s he hanging around you for?” He asked as calmly as he could, to mask his voice of envy and irritation behind his cool demeanour.

“Oh, uh.. yeah he is. He’s not very popular right now, so I was assigned to be his little study-buddy for the time being, sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s a bit stupid how they thought placing a quiet kid with another quiet kid was a good idea, but….” You rambled on about your school’s inadequacy or whatever, blissfully unaware that Phainon was indeed not paying any attention whatsoever, and instead, focusing on the numerous thoughts flying through his mind at 360mph.

‘Has she gotten bored of me now?’ ‘What does this Mydei have that I don’t?’ ‘I bet he’s really fucking ugly, he’s probably just a charity case in her eyes.’ ‘Who does this Mydei guy think he is?’ ‘Is he asking for a death wish?’ ‘Maybe I should slice him up into pieces, and serve his meat as meatballs for her-‘

Just as Phainon’s internal turmoil reached its peak, a quiet clear of the throat could be heard from behind the two of you.

“Oh, hello, [Name]. I was told you’d be here, should we get going?” A voice spoke. The pair of you, Phainon and yourself, turned around to the sound of the voice. You smiled brightly at the sight, waving at the guy with your hand. Phainon on the other hand, stood still in shock as he took in the other man’s appearance.

“Ah, Mydei! Hello! I was just finishing up with my friend here, Phainon. We can get going soon, I just need to fix something on my phone. The two of you can chat for a bit before I’m done!” You chirped happily, stepping to the side to fix whatever glitch was on your phone now. Shitty campus signal was really no joke.

Bulky, muscular, slight tan, short, golden wispy hair with slight red ends, enchanting golden eyes, not to mention, ridiculously tall, almost taller than Phainon.. he seemed to be a good contender for your love.

“..Are you just gonna keep staring at me or what? It makes you seem odd, y’know?” Spoke Mydei, his voice deep and rich, with a slight edge of aggressiveness to it. Stunning Phainon out his stupor, he laughed quietly and bowed a bit apologetically.

“Ah, I apologise, Mydei. I was just thinking about something, nothing more.” Flashing Mydei a quick, sweet smile, he was met with a questioning, curious look, that could almost be comparable to a glare. Phainon swore he could see a flicker of understanding and awareness through Mydei’s daybreak orbs for a split second as they darkened slightly, before a soft sigh could be heard from you in the distance.

“Still glitched out. I swear, this campus really does not care about their students. The signal is terrible! Anyways, Phainon, I need to get going with Mydei now. We can chat later!!”

You stood next to Mydei as the two of you began walking away, waving quickly at Phainon as you walked away. However, what you didn’t notice, was the death glare that Phainon was sending towards the two of you, especially at Mydei.

But Mydei saw. With the turn of his head, he saw those icy blue, once bright, now dark blue orbs cutting deep with their intense gaze. He didn’t shudder or tremble in fear, no. He simply kept a blank, unreadable look on his face, looking Phainon up and down with his eyes, as if scanning him carefully, whilst you’d talk about something random.

“So, Mydei. You told me you like to bake, is that right? Would you like to teach me how to bake? I’m more-so good at cooking rather than baking.. I always make the desserts too raw, or too dry!” You were both now in his dorm as you ranted, placing your books and bags on his table, granted with his permission, as you joined him in his kitchen, which was so much tidier than most other student’s kitchens.

“Hmph. The art of baking stems from the heart. Even raw or over baked goods are still delicious if you know the person made it from their heart.” He declared respectfully, handing a small black apron to you, whilst putting on his own soft pink apron on.

“Uh, are you sure this black apron is for me? I’m pretty sure you should be wearing this one-“ You’re immediately cut off as he sends you a quick death glare, which shuts you up just as fast, but you could’ve sworn there was a slight flush to his cheeks, that matched his pretty pink apron for a few seconds.

“If you looked, you’d know that apron is clearly too small for me. Of course yours is the black one. What? A man can’t wear pink now?” He asked aggressively, but not without a hint of playful aggression laced into the threads of his serious tone.

“I-I never said that!” You waved your hands in front of your face in distress and apology

“Quit it, I was just teasing you.” He uttered again, a soft smile now on his face as he took in the utterly adorable pathetic sight of you trying to save your case hopelessly.

After a while, you had managed to create an adorable set of yummy cupcakes with the helpful guidance of Mydei’s exceptional baking skills. Opening the oven door, a warm air of sweetness and cocoa hit your nose, before enveloping his whole dorm.

“Looking good,” Mydei praised as you carefully took out the tray with some oven mitts and bent down to place them on the stove atop the oven, before going back down to close the oven door again. But in the reflection of the oven, you saw something for a split second- Mydei’s gaze on you, your form in front of him. Before you could notice fully, he quickly averted his gaze back to the chocolate cupcakes in the baking tray.

Was he praising you?

As you got up, he spoke, bringing in a piping baggie and holding it in front of you.

“Now that the cupcakes are done baking, we’re going to have to wait a bit before we can ice them, since they need to cool down a bit first. Otherwise, the frosting would melt and go everywhere.”

He then brought together the ingredients to make the icing, as well as three food colourings tubes

“Now, you can decide between red food colouring, pink food colouring, or blue food colouring. I don’t really mind either way.” He said, handing the tubes to you to decide which colour to use.

You looked at the food dyes in your hand, deep in thought. See, you had wanted to gift some of these cupcakes to Phainon to make up for having to cancel your little hangout, but you also saw the way Mydei was eyeing the pink food colouring in your hand.

“Hmm.. I think I’ll go with the blue food colouring! You don’t mind that, right?” You asked gently, giving him a look of sympathy as you saw how he deflated slightly at your decision. He took the other dyes from your hand without a word, but you swore you could see a hint of a small pout on his face as he turned his back on you.

“That’s fine. I’ll help you make the icing, I just need to get the right nibs for the piping bag..” He spoke, momentarily distracted as he rummaged through his cupboard to find an appropriate nib. He came back a few moments later, standing next to you in front of the counter.

“We’re gonna be using a simple nib today, no designs. Since it’s your first time, you won’t be using any intricate designs.”

You pouted playfully as you helped him whip together a batch of icing, dipping in some of the blue food dye into the mixture, and watching as it turned from white to a pretty shade of cerulean blue almost resembling Phainon’s eyes.

“Really? I’m sure I could do it! Please, an intricate design would be so cute! Plus, I wanna gift some of these to my friend, so..” You pleaded gently, looking away in shame as he shot you a scowl, which really just made him look like a cat, or a young lion. He turned back to the bowl, whisking carefully, before muttering something almost incoherent under his breath.”

“Would’ve been cuter if you used the pink dye instead…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now, I’m going to teach you how to pipe the icing properly onto the cupcake. We can still make cute designs with a simple nib, so just listen carefully.” He announced, almost sternly as he filled the piping bag with the light blue icing, twisting the nib onto the corner of the bag, before handing it to you and taking a chocolate cupcake out the tray and placing it in front of you.

“Ice it.” He said, staring down at you as you held the bag almost cluelessly in front of you.

“I thought you were gonna help me..” You inquired meekly

“I just wanna see how bad you’ll do, that’s all.” He quipped back, a sly grin on his face as he stepped away from you. You could only narrow your eyes at him as you turned to try and ice the cupcake.

That poor cupcake was now subject to messy, uneven scribbles of azure blue icing, your handiwork was truly poor. You sulked, not being able to even take your eyes off the now eyesore of the cupcake, lest to not have to see Mydei’s face, which was probably adorned with a giant, stupid smirk.

But he wasn’t Phainon, as he chuckled softly and leaned his head near yours, trying to catch a glimpse of your sullen expression.

“You don’t have to pout like that, y’know? Not everyone’s going to get it right on their first time.” He sighed, his voice now taking on a more mellow, kinder, tone, more patient, as it was devoid of any aggression or abrasion. He then simply pushed that cupcake to the side and brought out another one from the tray, before wrapping his big, muscular arms around your form, gently holding you by the hand with his larger hand, as if guiding it.

“Just follow my lead, I’ll help you..” He spoke gently, almost intimately, as he whispered into your ear, huskily, coaxing your hand to lift the piping bag once more with his.

“Mydei..” You spoke hesitantly, shyly, as your cheeks flushed, which he could see through the faint red that dusted onto the curve of your cheek from behind, and on your ears.

“Call me Mydeimos, yeah?” He breathed richly into your ear as he steered your hand with his, squeezing it to coerce you into squeezing the piping bag tight once more, to start icing the cupcake.

You stayed silent as he helped you, but yoy couldn’t help but feel so unfocused as he stayed so close by to you. How his warm breath on your neck as he leaned down to whisper instructions or words of praise into your ear from behind, how it tickled the inside of your ear a little.

After some time, the cupcakes were all beautifully decorated with the icing, with pretty, intricate designs made with the piping bag due to his ‘guidance’

“Look at that, masterpieces in less than ten minutes. You’re a pro already.” He praised, his tone now becoming less husky and quiet, returning to its normal deep and resonate tone as he pulled himself away from you.

“T-thank you.. this was mainly your doing though, you helped me move my hand in all the right places and all..” You muttered quietly, blushing softly as you met his gaze.

“You’re being a lot quieter than you were before when you were with that.. Phainon? guy. Are you two..?”

“Oh- we’re not.. yet but he’s been acting odd lately. More distant and passive-aggressive at times..” You said sadly, thinking back to his colder tone as you told him about Mydei at the start of the day.

“Well.. maybe these cupcakes will make him feel better. You too seem to be close friends, so I’m sure he’d appreciate the gesture.” He answered calmly, almost sympathetically. But, a flicker of a possessive, almost excited glint glimmered in his eyes for a split second as he spoke.

Did he have a chance with you? He did enjoy your company after all

“You’re right,” You sighed “he’s normally really bubbly, so I’m sure something sweet and cute like this will definitely lift his spirits!”

Mydei could only look at you with an adoring unreadable gaze as you began packing up the cupcakes in a tidy container you had brought along with you to his dorm.

Suddenly, you felt one of the cupcakes being pushed towards your lips, the blue icing smearing a little onto your pretty lips.

“Wha-“

“It’s the failed cupcake, just eat it. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it” He stated jokingly, shoving the dessert further until you opened your mouth to get it with a muffled giggle, covering your mouth and turning to face him, cautiously taking the cupcake from his hand and looking up at him.

“Thanks again, I really enjoyed this.. I didn’t think you’d be into these sorts of things, but I’m glad I got to know you and your interests..” You mused calmly, fully aware of the close proximity between the two of you yet again. You were almost pinned against the counter by him as he kept his hand firmly next to your torso on the counter next to you

The two of you could only stare at each other longingly for a few moments, before you both blushed and pulled away from each other.

“A-anyways.. I need to get back to my dorm now, I really enjoyed your company agai-“

“Let me take you. It shouldn’t be too far, right?” He cut you off, albeit, politely due to his sincere intentions. He didn’t give you a moment to think as he helped you pack your things, slinging his keys around his fingers, creating a quiet jingle sound as he did.

“Sure, I guess. We do both live on the same floor, no? Let’s get going then.” You turned to take your things from him and grab the tub of cupcakes on the table, before making your way to his door.

However, before following you, Mydei couldn’t help but momentarily turn his head over his broad shoulder, looking through the window behind his sink. His expression was dark as he felt another presence nearby, that obviously wasn’t yours. It was now dark outside, so he couldn’t see clearly. And he didn’t want to keep you waiting to go check up and confirm his suspicions. So, he simply smirked to himself and the dark outside world beyond the window.

He knew you were being watched and listened to the whole time, so why not give a little show, no?

Phainon gritted his teeth and almost bared them like an angry dog’s at the entire spectacle from outside his window. You were now long gone from Mydei’s dorm, he had already slipped back into his own dorm, to avoid being caught by Mydei, who was already onto his ass from the very beginning.

“Shit. Fucking piece of shit. Who does that guy think he is? Touching her up, holding her like he’s fucking her. Whispering into her ear from behind like that.” Phainon mumbled angrily to himself as he tore a new one into a poor, fluffy pillow on the ground.

He pretended the pillow was Mydei. How he’d tear his resilient skin off his muscles, rip out each and every one of his axons and nerves, tear through that generous muscle of his, that almost rivalled his own. How he wanted to blend up his organs, crush up his skull, and serve it all raw to you, to show you his devotion.

But he knew you’d run away in fear, never want to speak to him again, be scared of him for the rest of your life. And he didn’t want that. In fact, he wanted the complete opposite. He wanted you to rely on him, make you depend on him. He wanted you. All to himself. No more beating around the bush, you belonged to him. And messing with a potentially even messier dog for food may result in trouble. So why not go for the food first before the other dog gets to it first?

It had been a few days since your hangout with Mydei- or Mydeimos as he wanted you to call him.- The friendship between the two of you grew stronger, and you were happy about that! But there was still a growing ache in your heart.. what about Phainon?

He hadn’t contacted you throughout the days that had passed, and he wasn’t at his dorm either whenever you knocked to come check up on him whenever you were free. Initially, you had thought he was busy with his own classes, sports activities or whatever, but even during the times where he too was free, you could never find him, anywhere. Not in his dorm, the gymnasium, the gym, museums, cute cafes, nowhere. It also didn’t help how any text you send was always left on delivered. You were becoming worried, but most of all, upset.

You missed him, you wanted to see him, you didn’t like the thought of him being angry at you because of something you did. You had to make it right, you just had to.

It was a cold, winters evening, where the sun was already beginning to set at the dusking time of 6pm in the afternoon. You walked with determination to one of Phainon’s favourite places- grand library, much greater than the one on your campus- You had remembered when Phainon took you there during the holidays at the end of the first semester, noting how it was absolutely filled with loads of historical textbooks and fiction.

You had hoped, that just by a miracle, you would be able to find Phainon there, or at least get him a few books for him as an apology gift for canceling on him for someone else, even if it seemed small in retrospect.

However, the roads and streets were desolate, quiet, empty. Nobody liked going out or hanging around during these times due to the dark weather, and the gloom it brung along with it. But you were calm, you wouldn’t be out for too long anyways, the library wasn’t too far from your college’s campus to be out for so long.

What you didn’t know, was that someone was watching you, following you, drawing closer and closer as you advanced deeper into the darkness, until-

“What’s all that runni- HEY-! MMPH!! MMHMPH—-mmph- hmmgh-.. mmh…”

An unknown perpetrator had grabbed you from behind, their arms held tightly around you like a vice as their hand brought up a cloth to your nose and mouth, drenched in a form of anesthetic, forcing you to inhale the chemical skillfully. Once the unknown person knew you had been knocked out, they rid you of your belongings, discarding them on the ground besides you aimlessly, before dragging you away, and taking you someplace else, disappearing with you into the night.

A few hours later, your eyes fluttered open with a few blinks, taking in your surroundings. It was dark to say the least, and cold, probably dirty too. Your vision was blurry, as it took you time to adjust. Once you did, you realised you were bound tightly to a chair, unable to move a limb, even by a tiny spasm from your muscles. There was also a cloth wrapped tightly around your lips, muffling any noise coming from your mouth.

Trembling in fear, you teared up. Was this the end? Were you about to be killed? Why would someone do this? Where’s Phainon? Phainon won’t know where you are.. You’re gonna die knowing Phainon hates you- Phainon- Phainon-

You didn’t even realise you were calling out Phainon’s name, even if it was muffled by your gag, as you felt a sharp, cold knife being pressed against the large vein in your neck from behind. Whimpering softly, you shut up, sweat beading at your forehead, as tears began streaming down your cheeks.

“So very pretty, aren’t you? A pretty little thing like you should know not to stay out so long i

n the dark, don’t you have a boyfriend to keep you safe?” They spoke, his voice sinister and low as he spoke, roughly yanking the cloth from around your mouth downwards to let you speak.

But you could only whimper pathetically again, your throat feeling dry as the words fell on your mouth.

“I don’t have one..” You answered weakly, your voice strained from the anesthetic previously used on you a few hours prior, from the dryness of your mouth and throat, due to the lack of water, and from your short sobs.

The figure chuckled lowly, evilly, a bite of inhumanity lingering in the sound.

“What a shame.. nobody to protect you, nobody to save you, nobody to help you, nobody to run to, nobody to love…”

Thoughts swarmed your mind as you thought of the endless possibilities of what may happen to you here. Bad thoughts, thoughts that made you even more scared, and cry even harder, louder. To which, you began to sob out loud. A genuine sound that your kidnapper took great pleasure in hearing. You felt their presence behind you back away, only to appear in front of you. They were masked, gloved, concealed fully in all black, with the exception of their eyes, which you couldn’t make out the colour of due to their mask almost covering it up completely.

Not being able to face the kidnapper eye to eye, you turned your head to the side and sobbed, not caring how stupid you may have looked as it lolled over the chair to the side. But they clearly weren’t having it, as they drew their knife under your chin, lifting it up with its sharp edge, to meet their thunderous gaze once more, eliciting a shudder and gasp from your lips.

“What’s the matter? I just want to see your face as I slice you open an-“

Their words are cut short as they gurgle on something- blood, before falling to their knees and side in front of you. What stood behind them shocked you to your core.

It was Phainon, standing tall above the man with a dagger in his hand, now coated in blood. His gaze was icy cold as he stared the kidnapper down, who looked back at him with a look of shock, and also, betrayal?

Before the kidnapper could get another word out, Phainon stepped on the back of your captor’s neck, crushing it with his weight, before turning back to you, who was horrified and motionless, face turning pale.

“P-Phai-“ You choked out, before sobbing loudly in fear and relief. His gaze immediately turned to one of immense worry and love as he dropped the dagger and cradled your face in his hands, looking at you with eyes full of distress, scanning over your form with despair.

“[Name], [Name]! Listen to me, you’re fine, you’re okay. Shh.. Hey- stop crying, please.” He gently patted your cheeks as he got down on his knees in front of you, having kicked the now dead body of your kidnapper away.

When you didn’t stop crying, he could only wince in sadness and frustration, making quick work at the rope around your legs that bound them to the chair’s legs. He whispered soft shushes to try and alleviate you somehow, which obviously didn’t work.

Once he had untied the rope’s tight knots around your ankles, he moved behind you to untie your arms from behind your back over the chair, which soothed a soreness from there that you didn’t even pick up when you woke up as he loosened the rope. He kept muttering small “I’m sorry..”’s into your ear from behind, his voice ever so soft and comforting.

Having fully untied you, he took you off the chair and brought you down onto the floor with him, cradling you against his large, warm torso, stroking your hair as you sobbed into his chest, soaking his light blue hoodie.

After some time, you had calmed down, albeit, still sniffling and choking slightly as you tried to speak.

“P-Phainon.. I— hic- I’m s-so sorry… I w-wanted to apologise- sniffle- but-“

“Shh.. it’s fine, [Name]. You shouldn’t be the one apologising, it should be me. I… I got you into this mess because of my own pride and communication issues, even if you told me to improve on it. I’m sorry, you’re safe now. Please don’t apologise, I was so worried when you weren’t picking up my calls…”

You heard a sob coming from him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, crying gently at his own stupidity, the same stupidity that got you in this position. You couldn’t help but rub his back gently, trying to comfort him now, but he only let out a slight huff at your actions.

“..You shouldn’t be comforting me.. I got you into this mess, I almost got you killed. I was so stupid I-..”

“Phainon, i-it’s fine. You got me out of this mess, didn’t you..? And- and I don’t blame you for ghosting me or keeping your distance from me- I shouldn’t have cancelled plans on you last m-minute.. you didn’t know it’d end up like this..” Your voice was calmer now, less broken and fixing up as you spoke, trying to reduce his stress and worry.

‘You didn’t know it’d end up like this’ what a joke. He thought to himself.

“I just.. I was so worried. I tried messaging you back at 8pm to talk it out, because I knew you were most active during those times, but you didn’t answer. I spammed you so much and tried calling you so many times, but no answer…” He let out a shaky sigh as he ran a hand through his hair before continuing, “..I went to your dorm, knocked and waited there for so long, but you weren’t answering- I was terrified at that point.. Then, I went out and tried looking for you outside campus, still didn’t find you. And then- I saw it all.. your things. Your bag, your phone, everything- on the ground near some old trash cans near the side of the road. It took me ages to find you, but I spotted some desolate area and thought I’d try my luck, and thank goodness I did..”

He hugged you closer, before picking you up in a princess carry delicately, as if you were made of glass due to your more fragile state. He soon made his way out the room, making his way through the labyrinths of rotting walls and long, creepy corridors. He made sure your head was tucked away under his chin in the crook of his neck, so he could hear your breathing through his ear, in case anything went wrong.

“I have your phone and keys with me too, they must’ve fallen out whilst your kidnapper took you away, hm? Must’ve been terrifying, poor thing..” He gently swiped a piece of hair away from your face, which was all red, puffy, and wet from all your crying, giving you a pained expression in return to the sight.

As he carried you back into the campus, everything was a complete blur, and he could only slowly rock you back and fourth like a baby, to ease your nerves and mind, and coerce you back into reality as he swiftly entered your dormitory’s floor, reaching for the key in his pocket and unlocking the door swiftly.

He carefully lay you down on your room’s couch, getting on his knees again and stroking your head gently, a sad, hurt look on his face as he acknowledged your agitation and trepidation, after such a frightening experience.

“Just rest now, okay? You look so tired.. Don’t worry, [Name], I’ll keep you safe and watch over you. Just get the sleep that you need..” He lightly commanded, staying there, on his knees, until you drifted off into the realm of dreams peacefully.

He sighed in exhaustion as he got up, rubbing his forehead and looking at you with pure love in his eyes.

“…You know why I had to do this, right? Why I had to have some disgusting kidnapper take you away for some time? I need your love, your attention, your trust in me.. I’m so, so sorry, my love, but I had to. Otherwise, that pest- no. That virus, Mydei, would’ve taken you away from me, and I just can’t let that happen. I can’t imagine a life without you, [Name]….” He preached reverently, as if he was looking down at you like you were the embodiment of the divine, speaking to you as if you were his God. But you were. You were his to worship, his to love, his to keep safe. And he was going to make sure of that. One way or another, even if it meant hurting you in the process.

You belonged to him and him alone.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr men #phainon x reader #yandere phainon x reader #yandere phainon #hsr mydei #mydei x reader #phainon hsr

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korilakkumauowo · 2 days ago

Text

𝒜nd there’s no other to blame but . 𝒚ou . ੭

❰❰ batboys yearning for a busy reader ⇆ How their love is like, pre-established 𝑋 ﹔requested, premade AU for everyone, civilian reader ! very soft very cute but also this one are AUs of reader that has a j*b 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 ﹔total is 5.6K and 1K+ each for everyone. 𝑛/𝑎 ﹔hey ... I TRIED to make these headcanons but my hands slipped. you also have a j*b in this one .. also not proofread but i tried ❤️‍🩹 its kind of short but i tried to give dinner im sorry 👩‍💻

richard john “dick” g.

dick g. ⇆ newsie! reader (reader delivers newspapers) (its a fun j*b in this universe) (goated hb gave the idea, I thought it was cute! ><) p.s i had no idea where i was getting at with this one

You bike around the streets of Gotham during early mornings before the heat could go by, the wind blows your hair away to reveal the smile on your face, and he stares at you—he feels privileged from the sight. He sees you handing newspapers, the familiar articles, putting them in certain mails outside of variant shops, to people passing by asking for one—mostly the old people that smile at you the second they yet again encounter you. And it uplifts his deep admiration for you further, because even then, the others could also feel the same radiant ambience you embody, and they too think it is as beautiful.

Though you’re on the bike and riding away, the further you get away from his proximity the further he wants to chase you more, just to atleast get you to notice him. To acknowledge him.

The first very moment he had met you was when you had accidentally slapped him across the face with the newspapers—when he blocked your way by accident.

Not by accident, he just wanted to ask for your number. He didn’t exactly predict for his face to be slapped across by papers

You both meet again; At the corner shop downtown, a cozy coffee house. And he comes up to you, sits on the empty chair infront of you and flashes you a charming smile, and you only nod in greeting. On other occasions, you bump into each other near the streets outside of the W.E coordinators building—he found out the W.E had been offering the newspapers, and it is you to deliver them—you both ended up spending the evening, walking around the park together. It didn’t feel like anything, it just felt like it was supposed to happen.

Since then, seeing each other ever so occasionally (which is starting to get suspicious) didn’t feel like simultaneous occurrences anymore. They just happen to happen.

He had loved you the moment times grew by, fast. Yet steady, when he wants to appreciate and prolong certain moments that playback in his head multiple or few times. Sometimes, he just liked to cherish the time, moment, and place—Maybe even the person who happens to be who he sees when his eyes close and doze off, stepping into a whole new land in his sleep.

He dreams of you.

He sees you but knows you are out of reach, your mind is somewhere else even when his heart is yours. It’s not fair, you get to be somewhere else when all he wants to be is to be somewhere in your head with your heart on his palm—But you never really knew that—and accept all of him that is immediately consumed by you.

The universe wasn’t exactly on his side, a second closer you got the more he realized how distant you actually could be when you had to turn back away. Because you both weren’t exactly something, just yet, but he’s trying.

So all he can do for now is think. Actions, little by little.

He thinks of the color that he noticed had made your eyes perk up a glint with something akin to enthusiasm. All he wants to be, is to be that color if it meant you got to look at him that way. Maybe even stop being an acrobat since he’d been stumbling around and losing balance around you all the time now—it would bring shame to his title.

His life has always been flexible in way, he has had many side jobs before. He decides to catch up with you. You pause and look away from the road, glancing beside you and the surprise is unfathoming. The same man, Richard Grayson Wayne, on his bike—that he had recently just bought at the last minute, that you’ve been encountering more than so much needed—is matching the pace of your bikes together, and it doesn’t make you feel uneasy. Because there are a stack of newspapers on the basket on the front.

He’s joining you.

The love in him ranges in a stretch—it graciously, and smoothly flows out like releasing energy into thin air, it all pours out of him for and to you. He’s not being subtle, the love in him resurfaces in the flexibility of his muscles. He catches you, he holds you close, a hand out for you. He goes through the thick and rough patches so you can go through with your unblemished self. He follows you throughout the streets and keeps an eye closeby, he drops in by your side when he sees you alone at night and there's more than thrill that runs through his adrenaline when conversation goes on—because right now you’re not so occupied, right now, you are with him. Even when he’s presenting himself as somebody you don’t know beneath the mask and suit.

Despite the calm, there can be thrill. His devotion is exuberant. It’s a lavish breeze, a breath of fresh air, but it takes the air out of your lungs when it falls onto you all at once—and it is not bad, it is the rush of excitement that brings to it.

Because suddenly it all happens so fast, the moment a suspicious, lean figure dressed in black had even crossed the same path as you was when Nightwing—somebody who seems very familiar to you the closer you look—scoops you up and within seconds, there is the gush of wind that made you hitch your breath out of instinct and it rushes past you both through the air, you’re all too far gone to even continue the scream in your lungs as you clung onto him for dear life—because you can see the City, the lamp posts, the street, the cars on the road, right below you both as he whips through the air like it’s nothing.

Like you’re not even in his arms. Like your heart isn’t sure whether to be flattered for the save that you didn’t even know you needed, or if your heart should be pondering for a heart attack out of pure panic from the moment.

And you didn’t even notice the abrupt stop the first second, he drops by your apartment all so casually, the logo in his suit is slightly glowing despite the dimness of your balcony. Since when did Nightwing know where you live?

jason peter t.

jason t. ⇆ librarian! reader (... i thought it was cute again (2))

The library is a nice, quiet, and tranquil place to be. It gives him a sense of belonging—and he knows that this is where his peace could be—where no one can bother to poke you through the skin, there are whispers deep in the depth of himself telling him that he longs to be here until he learns to figure out the vulnerable parts of life.

He was right.

The smell of organic, earthy old papers is what fills his lungs once he opens and goes through the halls and the shelves, but the moment his eyes averted to the sight of you behind your counter—all he can see is you—he took it in selfishly. Maybe he’s not just going back here, back and forth every now and then, just to read a bunch of the books he specifically came up to you for (He knows where they all are, he just wants a walk with you through the shelves, and he buried every moment with you deeply).

In a place full of bricks with papers stacked in a shelf atop each other, scholarly or simplistic—you are the long awaited book filled with pages of layers that he wants to go through, and in every word there is in you, he will remember them.

But these are only fleeting and brief moments he gets to have. The universe tells him it’s so close, but so far.

You’re always keeping yourself busy, nose hooked on the book down your hands (though he knows that’s what reading is supposed to look like), and when you’re not—there is another customer of the day having to dwell on your attention.

It makes his face scrunch in disdain and he all but wants to snark at the laughing silhouette of your shadow. He needs assistance too! Look at him, the book in his hand is upside down. You should come over to his table and read it with him. Or even then, you’re by yourself on your counter all the time going through a paper list or checking in the people’s library cards—whether they’re borrowing or returning.

He decides to seethe over the huge block of half wall between you guys; it is an obvious abstract to bring a physical gap between you both, as though being emotionally afar isn’t enough to torment him in his sleepless nights.

He decides he hates having you right over the other side, he needs you by his side, specifically.

Even your quick and lectured ‘’shh!’’s towards his way, when he’s up and all over your work counter in hopes of striking up conversations, are adored. Or the quick glimpses of your soft smile towards him—before you cover the beauty up with a book that you’re holding, or paper, or clipboard, or God forbid your hand that he yearns to hold with his—are things he takes all too seriously. Makes the spirit in him giddy, and he wants to feel and go deep to more.

You don’t realize that everytime you look his way is like a ceasefire in the conflict of his life. The moment he steps in the library, right there and then you’ll feel a pair of eyes already on your back. There is no closure to this, he wants to keep it going. He wants to prolong, cherish the given times fate brings you both upon. Until, you realize—whether or not you wish for him to persist.

You let him, the day he stayed with you when the sun set. When the night called you off your duty, when he stayed the whole day in the library and had tea—together—with you by the counter. Just because.

It’s late at night, the horizon is through the phase of the moon cycle—and it’s the night that happens to end your shift. If anything, this might’ve been your first ever shift where the night awaits you right by the end—you’ve always taken the day-by duty, but the co-worker of yours was out for something personal. You didn’t ask what.

The heavy gnawing of approval from a somebody you look up to didn’t help that she was a very dear and over-the-age close to being a senior citizen and had given you life changing advice since the very first day of work, had you impulsively volunteering the afternoon duties as her substitute.

You were glad to help, genuinely. But when the dark sky falls in, it only has you thinking of circumstances—Gotham isn’t safe enough to be out alone.

Seeing the peering lamplights of the city streets outside the windows had you quite rethinking back of your choices. That old lady must be quite used to this, and you’re hyping yourself up that if she’d been through this all, alone, then you must be too.

But oh, Jason, it’s a coincidence he’s here too! He didn’t even notice the setting of the sky change over the hours.. time flies by so fast, no?

He offers you a ride home. Insisted, for safety measures of course. The breeze, cold air of the night hits your face, the wind is all too suddenly chilly, but he thinks the feel of your arms around him is thrilling.

The scent of you lingers onto him, and he breathes it in and your aroma quickly consumes over his lungs like no other smoke could. He concludes to himself that maybe you’re more worth being addicted to.

In a way that he’s almost grateful—it’s as healthier than the nicotine that tends to crawl his pleura and the familiar feeling of the clouds that gets pass through to mess with his head—because atleast you make words in his throat stuck like no other could—he’s certainly quiet. But speechless? He didn’t think he’d ever been with the way you do to him—atleast you’re the one messing with his head now, and he doesn’t seem to detest it.

It thumps his heart from each beat—your hand is right by his chest—and he’s hoping you don’t feel the little tiny jumps his heart is doing through his ribs. This might have been the peace he was subconsciously longing for. You, will be his peace.

Imperfections turn faultless, and the love is so full that it makes the heart of a vigilante jump like a mirthful puppy learning its first steps. In the end, he’s glad to come across the Library downtown. It is exactly where he found the peace that he longed to find—the missing piece of himself, where fate spoke to him out loud.

timothy “tim” d.

i admit this one was a bit 😣 Reader doesn't have a specific job here, nothing mentioned. Also lowk stalker Tim but in a cute way bcz he didnt mean to be. i started channeling Shakespeare in the end (i dont get what i said)

Now listen. Him already even showcasing his businesses as the Red Robin—it is already a huge deal and step for him, and you didn’t have to do much for it. He hadn’t meant to put you at risk with these sorts of information, but it slipped out. He can never really pay attention to what he’s saying and thinking when you're right and all he wants to do is get lost in your eyes and let time stop itself.

He wishes it would. He wishes you could stay a moment longer. He wishes you wouldn’t have to be so burdened in your responsibility and obligations anymore. You’re still there, but the paranoia in him is already heading into forward into what time will come.

So as a way to keep an eye on you, he has to outright do just that; He syncs patrols with your schedule. Besides, the obstacle that was probably between you both was you choosing your duties over him. Honestly, you yourself was probably a challenge he wouldn’t be able to get past. He admires the dedication, really, but if anything, it only drove him furthermore. He didn’t mind a little bit of challenge, it just thrills him in the head.

Maybe because he has decided you’d be the perfect fit for a puzzle like him. So, he decides to treat the inkling feeling in his heart with strategies. Seeing Red Robin constantly out your balcony isn’t as alarming as the first times anymore. He seems to sync with you every time, the moment you step inside your bedroom—he is waiting from afar and is lunging forward and dropping down to your balcony. He brings stuff with him; a flower he picked up as the starter, the next day was 2 cups of coffee from the nearby café—just so he could hold onto a conversation with you. He missed your voice. He tracks your shift like it’s his own job to do, he memorizes your schedule just to revise his own to spend the evening with you. The wind catches his whispers of ‘be safe, and goodnight’ when you end up asleep before he gets to you on time.

When he’s really got to go for patrol, he leaves sticky notes outside your balcony with cute little reminders for you. He puts a tracker on your phone, and he has it saved on his comms just to monitor you when he’s far too out of reach. He skims—with dedication and making sure to remember everything—through your government documents and files (though with light intentions, he merely wants to know you better). Failed missed calls on your ends means he’s immediately up and checking your location—failed missed calls on his part never happens, he always picks up at the first ring when it’s you. He sulks when he has to be away for just a little longer than he has to be—he’s suddenly rushing throughout the crime-fighting.

Sometimes, you get home late and a little dazed. From whatever may have happened during your duty—you’d snap at him when you’re far too exhausted and fatigued, and your brain just immediately gets so overstimulated. And he gets you; he doesn’t say anything, just a nod and a silent reassurance as he gives you space and waits—but he doesn’t actually leave, he just silently stands there and waits it out patiently.

Few affections there and then, not very subtle much—couldn’t it have been any more obvious for you?

You are constantly unreachable and occupied, wrapping yourself into these chores. He’s a busy man himself, well sometimes, and he knows what it’s like. He’s sleep deprived himself, and he slips in the room of wherever you may be just so he knows that you are truly still capable of being intact together. You don’t notice he’s been watching your shift from across the street every night—but you feel safe when you’re heading home, no doubt.

You ask for his intentions, he has a lot that he’d been wishing to say;

I’m dropping by just to check in on you. You worry me a lot, stop overworking yourself. You’re doing just enough. I care about you a lot. I think I love you.

He didn’t get a chance to declare any of it, when you had already opened up the door of your balcony and his feet dragged itself in with his mouth sealed shut into a soft smile gracing his face when he finally got a look at you. The lights of the city from outside illuminates your features in the dim lights of the room and he thinks he now might just have to be comfortable with sappy moments like these soon if he wants this to last forever.

Because, God, he really does want it to. If forever meant you.

He had always felt the need to function, not of self worth. Sure. He’s smart, calculating, analytical and intellectual—the brains in him, he thinks, have nothing to offer, but to work his heart out with the functionality of his mind, to pour out what the heart feels with his actions.

He inserts himself in your life but stays out of lane. Your seamless self along with his scarcing history of past lovers keeps him away, they are buried deep and it consumes him—along with the perfection of you—and brings his hopes low and it weighs him down.

As much as the love he has for you holds him whole, it feels as though it holds him on a pedestal in your life.

You are the ideal pattern he takes his time observing, that he now sees in everything of life. He watches, and he decides that heaven must have blessed him for having the sight of the eyes. He listens, and he’s all too grateful for the advantages of the ears—Maybe he’s even glad he exists, just to live the same timelines with you if it means he gets to have the privilege to be in your life—suddenly, life isn’t so bad. Suddenly, it is worthy to let the soul in himself continue on.

duke thomas

duke t. ⇆ boy (him) next door (i swear it was a lot more creative in my head) Apartment complex/condo setting. kind of short im sorry guys heh i kinda dont know how to write Duke but it's fun doing so. I also had no idea where i was getting at with this one (2)

He hasn’t seen you in a while. The only light in his life that he couldn’t compare to no other, the only light in his life he couldn’t predict.

There were times when you’d go out and then he’d take the opportunity to slide to your side as you both converse into wherever your words could get you—since then, you’ve been closer than ever, rather than just a peer in the apartment complex. Other times, he’d be looking out through his window and peeking at his door expecting just a little longer to watch you head out of your room and he’d coincidentally walk out just in time, too. He’d wait.It bothers him truly, but he knows you’re not exactly keeping yourself away from him or anyone—you just had a lot of things in your schedule. But the lack of you keeps him tormented, reminding him of just how far of reach you are to him, despite just living next door.

You’ve always been there. Right across his room in the apartment complex building, you are right there and he is right infront of your doorway—and he’s about to knock, when he abruptly gets a hold of himself at the last second. His fist is already an air away from the door, and he stiffly brings it back down to his side as he bombards himself in the head.

Where had all his daring surge of confidence gone? His words aren’t stuck to his throat, but they are too heavy to drag out on his tongue.

He mutters to himself. ‘I haven’t seen you all week.’ Ah, sounds demanding. Maybe.. ‘Mind catching up with me?’ ..eh, sounds corny. Or maybe! ‘You good? You’ve been cooped up inside that room since.. Last—’

The sudden door infront of him suddenly barges open and he freezes completely still, stiff yet his stance slouches in almost embarrassment as he comes face-to-face with you. And the puzzled look on your face makes him want to slide a sly comment in.

“Duke?” He caught on to your voice, immediately snapping out of it.

“Hey.. uh. I was just about to knock.” His lips quirk up into a timid but sincere smile, bringing a hand up the back of his neck—scratching it to keep his hand occupied and to keep his body moving.

“I know, I saw you through the peephole.”

“Oh.”

That had been the first time he was able to step inside the comfort of your space.

Sometimes, he’d like to just crash inside your abode (with permission of course,) step aside to your couch and just. Stay. Finding the solace in your shared presence. And he starts to look into you more, now that he’s able to be closer than ever. He studies your routine, he memorizes your schedules (They are set up in those sticky notes of your dashboard behind the door) He takes a look into your calendar, set up right at the wall beside your personal desk, and counts down the days of chances when he’d be able to have you for himself. On different occasions, he lingers by you, wherever you may be.

He’s .. starting to think he might be spending more time in your apartment than his own. Maybe being out of the Wayne Manor for just a little while wasn’t actually so bad.

When your duties outweighs your already weary self into a mushed pile of strained burden, he is there for it to be all better. He organizes activities in your room; Late night karaoke in the living room and away from your unkempt desk, multiple sessions of Jinga whilst sat together on the living room floor, the game of cards discarded all over and playful arguments ensues, and heartfelt times of vulnerability when he sees you asleep on the desk—and he is able to tuck you in himself and he gets to cherish the privilege of seeing you this vulnerable.

When he finally gets you out of your shell, he takes you to a simple start. A cup of coffee, together. You’re both sitting across each other from the table, the aroma of the sugary pastries make the scenario a little sweeter, and there are baristas preparing your orders as you both await for the delicacy.

Nothing hits just as hard as the sight of the sunrise glow basking in your way, the golden hue of light reflecting across your skin that it might’ve been the sun kissing you ‘good morning’ from across the sky. He imagines cliché occasions—of you both together—similar to that. He would’ve been doing the same. Nothing can really dim you out of his life, even the daylights and the beams of the sun know where to find you.

The purpose of the existence of light would’ve been because he needed to see you in his life. He might have the ability to bend the bright lumiscene, but this certain glow infront of him is something he yet has to fathom and cannot manipulate—because this time he will be genuine, and maybe fate can bend it to something it is meant to be—and this gift from the sun is something he could get familiar with.

And so he stares, and he is enamoured. Enamoured, and he cannot look away. He takes this slow to savor every temptation of fate and coincidences. A label in a relationship wouldn’t be able to define the title you hold over him. If he is Duke, you will be his Duchess–his Queen. And even then, he swears to keep it that way, because he had always known that love would be his stability despite the ruckus that may occur in Gotham’s streets.

He’s kind of glad he skipped Patrol for times like these. Bruce can give lectures later.

damian al ghul w.

university au, summer immersion, MD! Damian, BSN! Reader. Kind of ooc..? But i love me some soft dami idcidcidc. prob also doesn't make logical sense; i know nothing about what happens in university i js asked from my sister about her summer immersions ANYWAYS ... !

Despite also wanting to be independent of your sense of individuality, he always seemed to be..just there. Damian thinks he might be a little bit too intrigued by you, there’s no other way or explanation for his sudden behavior. Have you forgotten your kit again? You can take his. Even if the consequences would give him another extension for the summer immersion. Printer in your house broken? Oh, he already printed another copy of his notes for you! You have nothing to worry about. Oh, you’ve run out of gauges and sterile gloves.. He’s got plenty more anyways.

(The next day, there is a box of supplies handed out to you.)

He likes the look on your eyes when you take a moment to admire the small little pointless sketch—finally glancing away from your textbook, and he sighs in relief yet there is another feeling of anxiety that crawls on his skin when he imagines you looking at him like that, the glint of earnest in your eyes—the whole anatomy of the rib, with the names of each fragment there is to name, mind you. And ever since then, he doesn’t seem to mind it anymore whenever you try to attempt and peek over his shoulder to glance at whatever impression his pencil could be gliding across the paper for.

Ever since then he started giving you his personal notes in each lesson—the detailed, comprehensive, and precise depictions of each anatomy he drew during the lecture hours, the long and well-researched studies in each lesson the professors had yet to instruct. Sometimes, he had even predicted the on-coming examinations and gave you his analysis beforehand.

He had wanted you to feel almost well provided, even through the busy schedules the academics could ever overwhelm you with, let his subtle sentiments engulf you further until you forget about the worries altogether. He had seen how serious and far-reaching you are for your future, and if anything, that—had really meant something for him. It was admirable, it was the commitment you had with yourself, that had him wanting to reach out for a chance—for the same significance to be in your life. Maybe he just wants to feel important, in the consistency of morals, in your eyes.

There were times where you two had barely talked during a period, when the academics were too much to bear, and so you both secluded into the quietness. He didn’t complain, he liked the fact that he had gotten the opportunity to even be in your circle, even when it is silent.

He’s rather quiet, but at times when he wants your attention, he likes to subtly hint at you with his interesting choices—“When an octopus is stressed, it may eat its own arms.” He said out of the blue, glancing over to you, applying your sticky notes on your textbooks. He sees the slight quirk of your lips, and he wants to say so much before, but his eyes avert away before he could stare any longer, he does not want to look like a fool.

He said it with purpose, because he had seen you fussing over your own grades. It is nothing of the ordinary, he is here willing to provide you with so much more than that. And he wants to assure you—He loves your face very much. He could hold your cheeks on his palm and press a gentle kiss to your forehead if it meant for your head to clear up, if he wasn’t so afraid. But even from how much he adores your beauty, he still dislikes the look of distress on your face; anything that discomforts you, he wishes to perish them himself—but he cannot perish you when you do that to yourself.

Even when both of your courses were distinct, the academic pathways were similar, sometimes, your classes tend to overlap with his—because why is there an MD student at the BSN..? Maybe he’s just that good to be able to get inside two of the course lessons.

The classes were over, but extensions and summer immersion were right out by the corner of your schedule. And out of all people, Damian’s schedule is overlapping yours again.

( His line up was a fraud. He interchanged timetables with another student—your supposed peer for the whole immersion, operations and all—and had personally came up to the Counsellors for his way. With that, you’re both paired, just as how it should have been in the first place. )

And, just like that, It’s hell week; Immersion. It didn’t help that the unflattering heat of the summer had been taking a toll for everyone. The hospital, frankly there just for professional practice, had surely been engulfed by air conditioning since the early dawn.

Damian’s merely here for the trial and error—you’re well aware that he can be infuriatingly, exemplary, best of this. You’re here for an actual practice. Seriously, how does he already know what to do with everything? Ever since the starting of semester. You can’t help but be suspicious, maybe even a little bit envious of it. But you have nothing against him—not when he begrudgingly helped you throughout the year. (He just wanted to be nice. Maybe he’s even participating in the Immersion Program just so he could be your mentor all the way throughout.)

Every room in the medical institution has the same aroma—scents of isopropyl alcohol, antiseptic, and disinfectant. You can even smell the baby powder cologne of some employees that pass by close enough. The scent of baby powder seems to be very convenient in places like the sanitarium, so you decide to give it a try yourself.

He notices the moment he steps by your side, like he always does the first thing he gets here. He sees you staring down at your clipboard—eyes probably scrutinizing the tasks you’ve been assigned to on your checklist—and he eyes you down. You feel it.

“You reek.” You turn to him, puzzled and mildly offended. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off. “—of talcum powder.” His eyes stare you down shallowly, but his heart swells at the foreign scent of something chaste on you; it fits you, really.

You nod. “Yes..baby,” you paused, for no reason whatsoever–you just found your voice stuck, probably from the piece of toast you ate just from minutes ago, and his brain short-circuits at what he had just heard. You cleared your throat, “–powder.” You finished it off, before turning away to head towards your designated area.

Oh. He feels himself wanting to shrink into a small ball of utter humiliation. He thought you had just called him—nevermind.

During duty hours, he does end up sticking right by you. Like a pair, and it looks really like convincing for the patients for a Doctor in training with a Nurse in training together side by side—really. He never really seems like he’d walk away any time soon—because, he has the schedule folder of both your designations and updoings, he can plan all things thoroughly, he knows what to do, but for a pair to work; he needs you just as much as you need him, and you basically just outright give his plans a feedback of your own—and he listens. And follow what you tell him to do. He’s already following you around all day at the medical institution like a puppy.

When there is an operation in the room, you are both intended to watch and observe as the professionals handle and perform their function.

Sometimes, you are both at action too. Only from a limit. He practices on a just mildly injured patient, and you give him the scrapes and tools that he asks for when he switches up to a new pursuit at task—your finger brushes along his as you pass him the bandage scissors, and he longs to feel a little more. You don’t notice, first to pull back away and he turns away to brush away the swell of his heart.

Every fleeting moment of brief skin-to-skin makes his skin adust, it burns and leaves an imprint of warmth from you—it doesn’t seem so bad, you’ve already had the right to leave parts of you onto parts of his the very moment the tingling twinge of weakness had hit him. Be it merging or molding yourselves into one, he’d prefer that anyway, he cherishes anything and everything from you.

The pursuit of his dream might’ve been his very first purpose—to heal, to save, and bring back somebody’s life that he felt like he needed to do, what his youth would’ve wanted—to be here, but he’s starting to think that you might’ve been the reason he could be here.

When the job is over and the dismissal of the Counsellors are announced, he stands beside you and hooks his pinky finger with yours, and he feels a little proud—when away from the prying eyes of everyone, he places his adoration into the kiss of the back of your palm, It overflows from your hands like it shouldn’t, and he wants you to hold it all for yourself now that you have his heart.

𝑛/𝑎 ﹔SO.. what do we think about ittt eehqhqhqhaahh hdhahehhe hehheheh ahhshh GUYS ! THIS TOOK A WHILE TO POST i was really booked and busy AND i was slacking off a lotttt BUTBUT i was writing drafts on my overheating half dead laptop with sims 4 in the background (its just overreacting) at the car during vacay, yolo✌️😇 xx

#🐚 𝐤𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐨𝐰𝐨 #im sorry if its kind of rushed i swearrr i tried #NOT PROOFREAD but i wrote on docs hopefully grammarly was of help #𐔌 korilakkumauowo #dc x reader #dcu x reader #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #richard grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #timothy drake x reader #red robin x reader #duke thomas x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian wayne x reader

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