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munsonsreputation · 3 months

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i'm falling in love, again

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [6.7K]

warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.

summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.

“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.

You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.

“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.

Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.

You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.

It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.

“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.

He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.

“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.

His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.

“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”

The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.

He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.

Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and “run into you” by coincidence.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.

“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.

“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.

You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”

Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.

“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”

He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”

Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.

“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.

It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.

“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.

You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.

“Is he not funny?” He tried again.

You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.

“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.

He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.

“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.

Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.

“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.

He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.

“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.

You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.

“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.

Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.

“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.

You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.

“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.

You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.

“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.

“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.

You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.

“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.

The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.

Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.

You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.

You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.

“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.

Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.

“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.

Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”

“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.

“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.

“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.

A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.

“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”

You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.

Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.

A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.

“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”

Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.

You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.

It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.

But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.

He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.

He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.

He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.

He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.

He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.

That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.

But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.

He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.

“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.

He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.

“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.

But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.

“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.

You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.

“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”

Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.

Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.

It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.

The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.

He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.

You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.

“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.

But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.

“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”

The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.

It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.

You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.

“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.

You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.

“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.

Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.

“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.

You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.

He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”

“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.

“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”

He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”

“I wish that day would come sooner.”

“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”

“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.

“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.

“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.

“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.

“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.

You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.

“I’m following your lead, babe.”

Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.

He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.

It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.

He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.

“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”

You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.

“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.

Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.

“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”

You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”

“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.

“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.

“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.

“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.

“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.

You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”

“Why do you think that?”

You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.

“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”

You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.

“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.

He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.

“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.

Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.

“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.

“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.

Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.

“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.

Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”

He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.

“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”

His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.

“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.

“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.

You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.

“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.

He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.

“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.

Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.

“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.

Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”

“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.

He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.

“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”

Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?

“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.

You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.

“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”

Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.

Break up, break free, break through, break down.

“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.

He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”

You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.

“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.

Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.

He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.

“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”

Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.

You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.

“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”

Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.

“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.

“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.

“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”

It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.

And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.

Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.

“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”

You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”

“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.

Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.

His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again.

Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.

Oh no, I’m falling in love again

You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.

Oh, I’m falling in love

Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.

“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.

“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.

You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

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adams-angels · 3 months

Note

I want to see my man in pain, Adam break down after reader said they want to break up (fluff in the end pls) 😞

I reaaaally enjoyed writing this

I love pain 🥹

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Used

Adam POV

It was a normal night. Out talking to some babes. Tellin' them how great I am. Because, well, I AM! HA! I'm the first fucking man! These bitches swarm me. Who am I to deny them. I check my phone a see y/n has text me. "Ugh, what do you want now you needy fuckin'" I can't believe what I'm reading.

"we're done."

My heart sinks. Why is it sinking. I don't care. I'm fucking ADAM!! Adam stands, pushing away the crowd of angels surrounding him and tries calling you. "Come on.. come on, pick up, you dumb bitch." No answer. NO FUCKING ANSWER. His head spins. Panic sets in as. This isn't happening. Not again.

You think you're better than me?! You're nothing! I'm Adam!! I can get ANYONE I FUCKING WANT YOU THINK I NEED YOU?!

I'VE GOT TONS OF BITCHES WAITING FOR ME!

I DONT NEED YOU I NEVER NEEDED YOU!

He tries calling you again. No answer. "FUCK!" He expands his wings and shoots up, smashing through the skylight. He continues to text and call as he makes his away to your apartment. "FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He screams into his phone. By the time he arrives at your apartment he calms himself down, "I can get them back." He thinks to himself as he lands on your balcony. "They didn't mean it. They couldn't of."

As he reaches for the handle of the sliding door his hand shakes. "No, no, no, no." He grips onto his wrist stepping back from the door, being stopped my the railing. He slides down to the floor. "No, no, no...." His voice cracks, fear, sadness, anger. He never let himself get close. At least that's what he told himself. After the second wife also betrayed him he swore he'd never care so he would never hurt. But somewhere along the way, he fell for you. Although he denied himself.

He rushed to remove his mask, feeling like he can't breathe. Once he got it off he threw it aside. Clutching at his chest as tears escaped from his eyes. "No, no, no.." he whimpered. He sat on the floor for an hour. Thinking about you. What he did wrong. If he did something terrible. Why you're ending it. There wasn't even anything to end and yet his world felt like it was crashing around him.

Once he calmed down he leaned forward and sighed. Wiping his cheeks as he stood up and put his mask back on. He reached for the handle, hesitating before opening the sliding door. He sees you in your bed, asleep. He closed the door quietly and just watched you. For about half an hour before he realised how much a creep he's being. He walked into your livingroom. He's been here plenty times before. He memorized the layout.

He walks over to one of your succulents. You loved them. Once he came over and accidentally knocked one on the floor. You were so upset. He didn't see the big deal but he still went out of his way to buy you a new pot for it and a new succulent altogether. Just something to say he was sorry without actually saying sorry. He smiled as he remembered your joy. He sat on the couch and waited.

A couple hours later he heard rustling in your room. He shot up from the couch and heading to your bedroom, freezing at the doorway as he sees you wake. You scream in surprise, falling off your bed. He noticed your phone falling off the nightstand with you. His chest tightens. Your phone. Those horrible texts. "Adam?! What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!" You yell at him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He stands there, feeling awkward. "You want to leave me?" He asked, trying hard to not break his voice. You tut, he watches at you stand, wanting to help but to afraid to move. "You say that like you cared." You snap, picking your phone up from the floor. "Don't look at that." He took a step towards you, reaching out but you recoiled. "Why? You next me nasty shit? Telling me I'm worthless? That I was lucky to -" he interrupted, "y/n, I'm sorry. I just want to know what I did wrong."

Adam braces himself. For you to yell. For you to scream. For you to tell him you love someone else. "I just... I can't... I don't want to be a place holder for you." His shoulders slump down he hesitantly steps closer to you "What are you talking about?" He carefully slides his hand under yours "I don't want to be someone you just use until you find someone better." His fingers interlace with your as his other hand brushes your hair from you face. His breath catches seeing your red, watery eyes "I just want to be... I don't know, Adam."

His hand cups your face. He looks into your eyes and for the first time in eons he chose to be vulnerable. "Be mine?" He watches you shrug. Rightfully assuming you've misunderstood his request he clarifies "no, I'm asking. Be mine." The way you look at him makes his chest tighten in fear. "What?" He recoiled. "I mean, maybe we could start again? Like.. properly?"

"You mean like.. date? What happened to "I don't date. I'm the first man. I have the first penis ever bla bla!"" He glares at you. Of course you'd remember that. "I don't sound like that." "You do." Adam brow furrows in in frustration. "Whatever, y/n, please. I can't lose you. I don't want to lose you. Please don't leave me." He felt pathetic. He was pathetic. "I'll have to think about it." His chest tightened. His heart beating a million miles a minute. You'd see how pale he would be if he wasn't wearing the mask. "H-how long will that take?" He asked, desperation leaking out of him.

"I don't know, Adam." You shrug. The air was thick. He was struggling to breath and needed to get out of there. "I really care about you, y/n. You have to believe me, babe." He kisses your hand before releasing it. "Just.. uh... Delete those texts. I didn't mean any of it." He heads to the sliding door he entered from, opening it and expanding his wings as he jumps off. He looks behind to see if you watched leave like you've done so maybe times before. But you're not there.

It's been a month. A whole month. It should feel like nothing to him considering how long he's been in existence yet it feels like a years. He sees you about. With your friends. Getting groceries. Whenever his eyes catch on to you he freezes. No matter what he's doing.

He can't keep this up. He didn't want to pressure you. Make you feel like you had to choose him. But fuck he needed you to choose him. He was in his office. But he couldn't focus. He was so tired, not being able to sleep well without you. Even if he didn't sleep the whole night it was always nice knowing you were there no matter what. At least that's what he used to think.

He checked his phone to see nothing from you. It was too much. He was alone. You were never coming back. No one ever comes back. Lilith left him. Eve left him. Now you. "Fuck. FUCK!" He picks up his coffee and punts it at the wall. He can't stay here. He needs to find you. He needs you back.

He swung the door open and there you were. He couldn't believe it. He thought you'd at least text him. Not show up at his office! His feathers were literally ruffled, his office looks like a bombs hit it. "Y/n?" He said softly, it was like time stopped for a minute. He wish it did. Then he could scoop you in his arms and never let you leave. He snapped back into reality changing his expression quickly, not want anyone to see a softer side to him. "Come in." He stands aside letting you in to his office. He hates that you didn't text. He would of cleaned up there were documents everywhere, a smashed mug on the floor and coffee stains on the wall. He hated it was such a mess for you. "Bad day?" You commented he grumbled in response. "There are no bad days in heaven." He mumbled as he slumps down on his office chair.

Resting his chin on the back of his hand as he watches you walk over to his office window, opening it. The musky smell almost dissipating immediately "So... I thought about it." He perks up, sitting straight, watching you like a hawk. "And?"

"and I'm willing to start again. Properly." He immediately bolts from his chair, wrapping his arms around you. "Fuck, thank fucking Christ. Don't do that to me again. Please." His voice breaks, wings surrounded the both of you. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll treat you so much better." "Promise?" "Yes, promise."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam smut

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sleekista · 3 months

Text

tears streaming down your face

barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader

request: here

A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.

also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)

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

As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.

Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.

“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.

“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.

“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.

“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”

“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”

As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.

Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.

“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.

When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.

You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.

You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.

You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.

“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.

“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.

“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”

“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.

“Would you come to Germany?”

“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.

“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.

“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.

You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.

- - - - -

You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.

Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.

She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.

She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.

More like a certain Wolfsburg player.

Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.

Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.

- - - - -

It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.

Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.

“We’re taking her, bye!”

You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.

“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.

“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.

“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.

“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”

“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.

“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.

“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.

“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.

“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”

She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.

- - - - -

You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.

As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.

By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.

Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.

—————————————————————————

i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team

also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader

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ayyy-pee · 4 days

Text

𝔼ℙ𝕀𝕊𝕆𝔻𝔼 𝟙 - 𝕀ℕ𝕋ℝ𝕆𝔻𝕌ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊 ℙ𝕋. 𝕆ℕ𝔼

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Last Episode - Masterlist

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: The season has begun! Which one of these contestants will be the first to make an impression on your heart?

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: sorry it took so long! i said it would be up the next day but yall know i lie

Apparently, you were the perfect pick for the show. At least, that’s what the producers had told you as they spent weeks screening you for this and prepping you for what was to be expected.

“She’s not heavily involved in society, but can still see curses,” they’d said.

“And none of the Sorcerers would know her either since she’s practically nobody in society,” they’d note.

“No expectations from someone like her,” they’d comment.

And all the while, you sat there, letting them pick apart your life.

A window – hardly useful, new to Kyoto so the chances were slim that you had met any of the men who had signed up for the show, a nobody, just…there. Unimpressive, plain, hardly a step above the non-gifted. And somehow, you were supposed to win the heart of one of these men.

- - - - - -

Jesse stands before you, a wide smile on his face when he asks, “Feeling nervous?”

“Just a little.” That feels like an understatement

“Anything you’re looking for in one of these Sorcerers?” Jesse pushes. You’ve honestly got to give it to Jesse. He’s a great host. You’ve gotten more comfortable with him in the short time you’ve been speaking. You think he’s a nice person. At least while the cameras are on.

“Nothing in particular, Jesse,” you respond. “You know, I’m pretty open right now. Just looking to find someone who speaks to my heart.”

Now you’re just pulling things out of your ass, because where did that come from?

“Good, good.” Jesse pauses briefly, taking a dramatic inhale of breath before he speaks your name. “Alright, listen. The first man who will be competing for your heart should be pulling up here shortly. Best of luck. But, I have a strong feeling there’s going to be someone out here for you that will end up sweeping you off your feet…” He leans forward and embraces you once more. Then he turns and speaks directly into the camera, where all the viewers at home can see. “Remember, this is a very special season in more ways than one. While our Bachelorette tries to find her soulmate, you, the viewers at home, are in charge of choosing who will not be receiving a rose for eliminations.”

Your head snaps to the camera and you see the cameraman swivel the large machine so that Jesse’s head blocks your wide eyed, open mouthed stare.

“Hopefully these men know how to make an impression, because that will greatly sway you viewers. Be sure to tune in…” He claps his hands together. “And with that…let the journey begin.”

Jesse is off before you can even call after him, not sparing you a glance as his assistants swarm around him out of view of the camera. There’s a lot of movement that follows as Jesse leaves you standing outside of the Bachelorette mansion in what now feels like the frigid cold. Was it always this freezing? Was your dress always so tight, so suffocating? You feel like you can’t breathe.

The viewers. That’s what Jesse had said on live television. The viewers would be deciding who moved forward?! That was not what was advertised! This was not what you were told would be happening! You were supposed to be choosing for yourself!

How could you possibly find the love of your life among a group of Sorcerers you’d be meeting for the first time in your life. Not to mention, you had to depend on the viewers of the world to decide who was your soulmate?! They didn’t even know you! How could you trust them with your heart? How would they know who would be the one best suited to take care of it?

Hell, you don’t even know who would be the one best suited for that. But the only thing you are certain of is that this is a mistake. A very big, very stupid mistake.

How could you have let Utahime talk you into this? Let this be the last time you’re swayed by that drunkard!

Your eyes dart around, trying not to catch the attention of the many people surrounding you at the moment. The crew is busy fiddling with the lighting. The sound team is checking and adjusting mics. The cameramen are moving into position to catch every possible angle. And suddenly you feel more exposed, more vulnerable than ever. You need to get out of here, quickly.

Spinning on your heel, you take a single step forward in an attempt to dart past all of the commotion, hopefully unnoticed. But the moment you turn around, you hit a wall. At least what feels like a wall. But the only thing standing between you and your escape is one very tall man dressed in a nice and clearly incredibly expensive suit.

Your gaze climbs up this man’s body and you’re met with a pair of the most insanely (and downright terrifying) pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. They sit behind a pair of sunglasses (it’s nighttime?) so dark, you can’t see a thing through them. And atop this man’s head sits a head full of stark white hair. He’s so…unnatural looking. Almost alien-like, but beautiful nonetheless.

Still. It doesn’t change the fact that less than two seconds ago, you’re absolutely positive that this man was not here.

“Hey there,” he says, a lopsided grin on his face.

It’s then that reality crashes down on you. That this strange-looking man appearing out of thin air feels real. And you let out a blood-curdling, earsplitting shriek that has the staff gasping and screaming along with you. You quickly stagger backwards. And because you seem to be blessed with nothing but bad luck tonight, your heel of course catches in the ridges of the outdoor tile. You’re sure to be tumbling to the ground soon and you can only pray the cameras aren’t trained on you when you inevitably hit the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the impact to come.

But it never does. You’re sort of just…floating there. You hesitantly peek through one eye, aware that you’re now in the arms of the man who had appeared out of nowhere. His eyes stare down at you, a hint of amusement behind them as he holds you to his chest. Well, you think it’s his chest? It feels like you’re touching him…but not? It’s such a strange sensation. Is this his cursed technique? It has you reaching up and almost pressing your hand to the man’s chest. That is, until you realize what you’re about to do. Aghast, you scramble out of his hold and straighten yourself up.

What was it the producers had told you in preparation? Stand tall and confidently. Even if you don’t feel confident, you’ll at least be able to look confident.

Well, you definitely don’t feel confident, and you doubt you look confident either. But you clear your throat quietly anyway, folding your hands in front of you and offer this man a polite smile.

“Thank you,” you mutter.

He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets as he peers at you from over the rim of his glasses. He purses his lips together, taking you in. Then that grin from earlier is back, like he approves of what he sees. “Any time.”

You’re not sure who the hell this man is. If he’s a contestant on the show, he shouldn’t be here yet. He’s supposed to be pulling up in a stretch limo and let out in front of you so that introductions can be done properly. You wait for him to introduce himself, but instead he just stands there, a shit eating grin sitting on his lips. Like you’re just supposed to know who he is.

Should you? Maybe you should.

He waits there…staring, annoyingly if you’re being honest.

So you wait, too. Because isn’t he supposed to be impressing you? Not the other way around. He’s clearly a sorcerer. You can feel the light airiness his cursed energy exudes, but you can’t for the life of you pinpoint who he is. Maybe it’s your nerves. Maybe you’re still on edge from this entire experience. Or maybe it’s the way your heart is still racing from him scaring the absolute shit out of you fifteen seconds ago. Either way, this guy seems awfully sure of himself and his expectation for you to show him some sort of reaction to his presence.

But you can’t place who he is. Mentally, you want to kick yourself for the way you always checked out, daydreaming about cheese fries instead of listening to Utahime give you the 411 on all of the sorcerers she knew. It would probably come in handy right about now.

When you don’t give this stranger the reaction he’s waiting for, you watch as his brows slowly knit together behind those glasses of his and his mouth turns down with a scowl.

“I thought a sorcerer would be more…” He waves his hand in the air lazily. “...excited about this.”

You fix him with a deadpan look. “You popped up out of nowhere, then almost knocked me on my a–”, you glance over to one of the cameras quickly. It stares back at you, one of many giant eyes suddenly hovering to catch every expression and word from you and televise it to the world. So really, you should be more careful about what you say. “I mean…you came out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me!”

You toss in a laugh to lighten up the mood, and let the man know you’re not upset even though deep down your heart is still hammering against your ribcage from his annoying little stunt.

Annoying…

…Stunt

Suddenly it hits you. Through the fog of cheese fry filled memories, you can hear Utahime’s drunken slurring come through.

“Everything’s a fucking joke to him. He takes nothing seriously. I hate that guy so much! Him and that dumbass blindfold and that damn forcefield he keeps up around him. Gojo Satoru can kiss my ass.”

And because he’s Gojo fucking Satoru, he can see the instant you realize he’s him written all over your face.

“Looks like you finally figured it out.” He’s as cocky as Utahime told you he was.

Even still, you hadn’t paid it any mind because you hadn’t expected the strongest sorcerer in a thousand fucking years to be standing in front of you on a damn dating show.

He saunters over to you, long legs quickly closing the distance. Then he’s taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his shiny pink lips. And you must look like a deer in the headlights, staring up at him with wide eyes, mouth open slightly as The Strongest, places a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“I’m Satoru,” he breathes against your skin, and from your peripheral, you see the cameras move closer to catch this gesture.

They’re so close, you can even hear the staff whispering worriedly behind you: “Wait, wasn’t everyone’s montage supposed to be in black and white?” and “Why are his photos in color?” and “Something about his eyes? I don’t know.” and “Management’s gonna kill us.”

When Satoru pulls away, he’s smiling down at you. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to his height. “You’re…stunning,” he speaks with an air of disbelief. And you can’t help it. You swoon for him immediately. It’s kind of pathetic, really. “As The Strongest, I think I’m the only one here capable of taking care of your heart.”

Again, you hear the staff behind you, men and women alike sighing and quietly squealing. You respond with a sweet smile and a genuine laugh because, although a little cheesy, that was definitely a good line. “Maybe so.”

You think he likes your cheekiness, because he’s beaming now. “Definitely so. And I can’t wait to prove it.” He kisses your hand again. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” Satoru gives you his most radiant smile and you can’t help but return it. “I’ll see you inside.”

And with that, he’s gone in an instant, like he was never there. It’s just you, with your hand still in the air and the impression of Satoru’s cursed energy before you…and the impression he’s already left on your heart.

You turn to the camera, pressing your hand to your rapidly beating heart. “He’s so charming.” It comes out as more of a sigh and you think you can hear Utahime groaning, see her rolling her eyes all the way from her couch. But you can’t help it! You just met the Satoru Gojo!

Unfortunately, you don’t have time to dwell too much on Satoru’s unique entrance because shortly after he poofs out of sight, you hear the sounds of tires approaching. With a wide grin to the camera and the audience watching, you spin back around and try to calm your nerves for the next arrival.

“We’re already off to a good start.” The cameras move into position, ready to capture everything. “Looks like the next contestant’s coming. Wonder what he’ll be like.”

Just as you finish speaking, a long, black and luxurious limousine rounds the corner and pulls into the lengthy driveway. You steady yourself, feeling optimistic after your first meeting. It’s as though all the nerves and apprehension you’d felt earlier were washed away. You can’t help but feel giddy now, eager to meet this next contestant as the limousine comes to a stop.

But as the driver exits the vehicle – a small, sweaty and almost sickly looking man – he comes around to the back of the limo and opens the door...only to see that the backseat is empty. He peers inside, then whips around when he finally sees there truly is no one in there. You can see his face begin to go almost green, his black rimmed glasses fogging as he stutters out, “H-has Gojo-san a-already arrived?”

He’s trembling, this poor man, and you simply give him a nod. Was he supposed to be bringing Satoru to you? If so, he failed miserably at his task.

The driver looks like he’s about two seconds away from passing out and the camera crew pick up on it, scurrying forward to catch his expression. He’s panic-stricken, murmuring to himself and it’s just loud enough for you to make out a “I hope Gojo-san doesn’t hit me when he’s back. How did I not notice he wasn’t there anymore? It was so quiet in the backseat. I must have simply enjoyed the rare peace I was given and didn’t question it...Oh, I’m so dead–”

He hurries back around to the drivers side without sparing a glance back, quickly hopping inside and taking off. The tires smoke and screech as he speeds around the corner, driving far too fast for any limousine to be moving.

The cameras pan back to you, and you smile uncomfortably, an equally uncomfortable laugh bubbling up from your chest. You shrug to the audience because what can you even say to that?

Dealing directly with sorcerers is already proving to be more chaotic than you imagined.

The next limo pulls forward not long after Satoru’s and the nervous pale man, and one of the most striking men you’ve ever seen steps out easily. He makes eye contact with you immediately, confidently. And it sends chills up your spine. He’s just barely shorter than Satoru, with a face carved by the gods, shiny blonde hair that looks so soft and probably smells incredible, and deep brown eyes that have definitely seen some shit in his line of work. They house deep bags under them. You wonder when the last time he got a good night’s rest was.

The man strolls across the driveway, so handsome in his khaki suit. You take that time to let your eyes rake over his form. Utahime didn’t tell you that these sorcerers were so damn big. If you had been given a warning, you’re sure you wouldn’t look like an idiot drooling over only the second guy you’ve seen tonight.

When he’s about arms length away from you, he stops suddenly and bows. It’s a perfect 90 degree formal greeting and you return it politely. This man must really care about customs and tradition. Surprisingly, you find that quite attractive.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he greets when he stands. His voice ignites goosebumps along your skin. It’s deep, rough and if you’re being honest, fucking sexy. “I’m Kento Nanami.”

“For now, you can simply refer to me as Nanami until we become more familiar.”

His words confirm your first impression of him. This man carries an air of confidence that makes you feel like you can trust him with your life. You know that sounds dramatic, but it’s a trait that is highly valued in the Sorcerer world. You’ve never seen a battlefield in your life, but you think that if you had a cursed technique, you’d want to go head to head against a curse with Nanami.

The cameras have moved forward again, just in time to catch you grinning like a goofy idiot. Nanami is the polar opposite of Satoru, in a good way. He’s far more serious and stoic than Satoru, but for some reason, you have a feeling that there’s more to him beneath the surface. You’re willing to bet he’s a lot more sensitive and caring than he lets on. You’re hoping you get to see that side of him soon.

“It’s so nice to meet you too, Nanami. You can call me by my first name. No need to be formal with me.”

Nanami presses his lips into a thin line. Like he doesn’t want to agree to that, but he doesn’t argue about it. And though brief, you see his eyes quickly snap up and down your form, taking you in so fast you almost miss it. “You look beautiful,” he tells you. And while his voice gives nothing away, you see the tips of his ears grow a little more crimson.

‘Cute.’ You can’t help but think. Yep, he’s so clearly adorably soft and shy underneath that hard exterior. Interesting. It gives you a small boost in confidence for a second. Someone as attractive as Nanami finds you beautiful. Of course you feel good about yourself.

“You’re very…”

‘Very what? Sexy? Ripped? Built like a fucking house?’

“...good looking yourself.”

‘Yeah, reel in the horny, please.’

Nanami gives you what looks to be the smallest smile you’ve ever seen and much like how you reacted to Satoru, you swoon for him too, heart racing in your chest. You can't help it. He’s just so cute!

“I’m happy to be here. Really lovely meeting you. I'll be seeing you again soon.”

With that, he gives you another bow and that shy smile that you can’t wait to see again. Then he’s moving past you and into the mansion to join Satoru. The cameras face you now and you mouth “wow” into the lens. When you turn back around to ready yourself for the next contestant, you hear the mansion’s door swing open behind you and what you swear is the faint sound of Satoru screaming, “NANAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII”.

You hope to know more about Nanami soon. He really seems as though he has a lot to offer once he opens up. You’d love to be the one he opens up for.

Just like after Satoru, the next person arrives shortly after Nanami and the cameras move into position quickly. The limo has barely parked when several people who are definitely not contestants (how did they all fit in there?!) jump out from the vehicle and swiftly form a line along the pathway to you.

There’s a shirtless man with heart-shaped nipples that opens the door and after one very long minute has passed, a man exits the vehicle.

Right away, you��re taken aback by how breathtaking this man is. His long black hair is lustrous, voluminous and hangs freely down his back with half of it tied up in a top knot. He’s as beautiful as the two men before him, standing tall in a dark blue form-fitted suit.

His deep violet eyes scan along his surroundings until they land on you at the end of the path, waiting for him. He meets you with a smile so sweet, it almost scares you. And as he strolls towards you, you see why. Every person who had lined the path previously falls forward as the man passes, bowing at an even more perfect 90 degrees than Nanami did just moments before. They offer him praise as he goes.

It’s freaky, downright strange. It’s almost like they worship him.

Now, while everyone in the Jujutsu world knows who Satoru Gojo is because of his reputation, he was actually quite a rare sight. Always busy, always out and about keeping Japan from being wiped from the earth. It wasn’t easy to catch sight of Satoru unless he wanted you to see him, you were a student or staff at the Tokyo campus, or unless you were an unfortunate curse coming face-to-face with him. And so, a little small town Window like yourself had no idea what he looked like in person and a brief description from Utahime hadn’t helped much.

But this man heading your way? Everyone, even Windows, knew who he was and what he looked like. His reputation preceded him, and not in a good way. His air is a lot more intimidating, menacing even. And he’s just as pretty in real life than in any picture you had seen. They did not do him justice. So you were ill-prepared when you realized that heading towards you, with the most stomach churning aura was none other than the worst Curse User of all time, Suguru Geto.

When he reaches you, without a word, he waves a hand and those kneeling behind him shoot up to standing position immediately. They chant “Thank you, Master Geto” in unison, bowing once more before they all pile into the vehicle and leave the vicinity.

It’s creepy…and intriguing all at the same time. You’d never seen anything like that before. So all intel given to Sorcerers and Windows alike weren’t exaggerating. This man really was operating as some strange cult leader. And now the show has captured all of that live on camera.

How was he even able to get on the show anyway? He’s a curse user, not a Sorcerer.

He peers down at you, brows knitted together as he takes you in. He’s quiet for quite some time. Even the crew is on edge, the tension palpable.

When Suguru meets your gaze, it’s almost as though he’s not looking at you at all. More like he’s looking past you. He raises a hand, reaching towards the side of your head, and your eyes drift shut, only for a brief second before you hear a soft whirring right behind your head, and can just make out a soft blue glow highlighting the man’s features.

It’s over as quickly as it began, and when Suguru brings his hand back, he holds a small black and gold ball in front of your face. You peer up at him again, and his eyes are closed in a pretty crescent shape as he beams down at you.

“There must be some mon– humans on staff if there are little flyheads buzzing around freely like this.” He’s making a face, like he’s holding down vomit just having to utter the word humans and for some reason this makes you laugh. Out of finding it genuinely funny? Out of fear? Out of nerves? Who knows? But, your laughter dies down after a few seconds and your eyes fall to the ball in his hand again.

“Did you just…absorb a curse?” You’d heard of his cursed technique, but obviously hadn’t seen it in action before. Until now.

Suguru chuckles softly, the sound making you shiver. You’re not sure if it’s in a good way or not. “I would need to swallow it later to truly absorb it, but I’ll spare you the sight for now.”He tucks the curse into his pocket, then he’s taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his chest where he presses his lips to the back of your hand sweetly.

Right. Him and Satoru used to be the best of friends. You’re sure they’ve used the same pick up lines on other people that they’ll probably end up using on you. You’re only hoping they’re here for genuine reasons. But more than that, you just hope that they’ll be able to coexist with each other.

“Absolutely breathtaking,” Suguru purrs, his lips curling into a bright smile. “More than I was expecting.”

You’re not sure what he means by the last part, but who cares? You’re fucking swooning again.

No wonder he and that blue eyed bastard were so close at one point. Two beautiful men that know how to say all the right things. It makes you feel shy, like a child trying to talk to her schoolyard crush and the cameras are quick to capture your expressions and broadcast them to the world.

“Thank you so much. You are, too.”

And because he’s Suguru Geto – charismatic, playful, manipulative – he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It’s your first kiss of the night from any of the men so far, and this one has your stomach doing flips, has your heart crawling up your throat.

You give him a wide smile and he shakes his head like he’s just in disbelief. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you acknowledge again.

“I’m so glad to be here. Can’t wait to get to know you more.”

“Likewise.”

Suguru kisses your cheek again before he waves goodbye and heads towards the mansion. You watch as he retreats, and for a second you think he doesn’t seem that bad. Except…he’s a fucking mass murderer.

You really need to pull yourself together.

There are still four more people to meet, but so far, you’re enjoying this experience. You don’t think you’ll mind meeting the others and you’re definitely looking forward to spending more time with the men already inside.

At least, you think so. Because just as the director calls “CUT” for commercial break, the hairs on the back of your neck stand high as you feel the telltale rush of two very opposite sources of cursed energy flare from inside the mansion. Those in the crew with even a smidge of cursed energy feel it too, because their heads snap over towards the building the men will reside in as well.

IN THE MANSION

“And then Yuji was like– what if we just put Panda in the exhibit? How much do you think it will freak everyone out when he stands up and just starts talking?!” Gojo speaks to Nanami enthusiastically. He’s waving his arms retelling the story, bursting into raucous laughter. “I swear that kid is hilarious!”

Nanami stares patiently at the wall ahead of him. In all honesty, he hasn’t heard a word Gojo has said. That’s usually how things go between them. Gojo rambles, Nanami grunts with feigned interest and eventually, Gojo gets bored and leaves to bother someone else. Unfortunately for him, with none of the students around or Principal Yaga, Nanami is now his sole target.

But Nanami doesn’t care about that right now. He’s thinking about you, and how he should have said more, made more of an impression. Now he’s inwardly beating himself up since he stepped into the house and was greeted by his colleague. He wonders if he’ll stand out among the other contestants. He should have put himself out there with you instead of scurrying off as soon as he had the chance.

It’s just that…you’re a lot more stunning than Nanami had anticipated and the moment he saw you, he’d reverted into formalities and awkwardness. It reminded him of how he was in high school.

Nanami is drowning out Gojo with thoughts of you and how he could possibly get more one-on-one time with you later tonight when he hears Gojo suddenly shut up. He peers up briefly, catching sight of Gojo’s scowl, brows furrowed harshly as he stares hard at the entryway. Another contestant must be here, one that Gojo isn’t particularly fond of.

And Nanami knew exactly who that would be.

The moment those soft steps carry in Curse User, Suguru Geto, Nanami instantly finds himself in the center of a pissing match of their cursed energies fighting for dominance in the room. Unlike most Sorcerers and curses, Suguru doesn’t fear Gojo in the slightest. Most people would cower away, move to the other side of the room and take a seat. But not Suguru. In fact, he strides right over to where his two old classmates sit on the sofa – Gojo on the end, Nanami in the center and now, Suguru on the other end of the sofa.

He grins tauntingly at Gojo, who holds his stare. “Nanami,” he greets, not even bothering to look at the blonde. His eyes are locked on his target. “Satoru…”

“Geto-san,” Nanami nods curtly. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you here.”

Suguru hums cheerily. “Well, I suddenly found myself in the market for love.”

Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes. “You? Like you’d know how to love anyone besides yourself.”

Nanami sighs between the two men, already feeling his annoyance begin to build up. He had not missed these petty arguments.

“Oh, you know I’m capable of loving more than just myself,” Suguru purrs and Nanami can feel Gojo’s cursed energy waver slightly. Beside him, Suguru chuckles happily. Probably because he got the reaction he was looking for and so easily, too. “Anyway, Nanami, I’m truly surprised to see you here. You don’t strike me as someone interested in romantic relationships.”

Nanami doesn’t reply. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, feeling a headache already coming on. There were days where he had hoped to have Geto and Gojo be able to coexist in the same space again, as chaotic as they were together. But if it was going to be like this, they may need to get sent home quickly.

Wait–

Nanami’s eyes shoot open, scanning the room until his gaze falls on the bar across the massive living area. This is the perfect chance to get some time alone with his thoughts.

“Excuse me,” he interjects, pardoning himself from whatever was going on with the two men beside him.

It was time to think about how he can make a better impression, get some time with you after the others have arrived. Maybe even secure a rose tonight. He’s only interested in moving forward with you. And while Gojo and Geto are too busy taking sly digs at each other on the sofa, Nanami’s thoughts are cooking up a petty scheme to get rid of those two as soon as he can.

“You’re lucky I don’t blow a hole through your head right now, Suguru,” Satoru threatens, scowl deepening if possible.

But Suguru just smirks, leaning back against the sofa. “Well, you always were good at blowing my head, weren’t you?” He closes his eyes, smiling wide, like he’s reminiscing on some sweet memory.

It makes Satoru…feel weird. Suguru knows just how to get under his skin in ways that remind him of the old Suguru. But he’s not him anymore. Outside of this, he’s his enemy. In this house, he’s just his competition.

Satoru is here for you. He hasn’t seen his ex…friend in years and it’s bringing up all of these strange feelings that he hasn’t had to face in so long. And to make matters worse, Suguru is here for you, too. Now there’s just another person in the way of him winning your heart. Suguru was always popular with women and men.

Nanami? Satoru could absolutely win against him. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Nanami, thinks he’s great and respectable and maybe he’d be a great fit for you. But Satoru would be an even better fit for you. Perfect, even.

But with Suguru here now, there was real competition. And now The Strongest was beginning to doubt himself.

BACK OUTSIDE

“When’s the next contestant supposed to show?” The director calls to someone in the cast.

You’ve been waiting for a while now, and you’re pretty sure you should have been on commercial break twenty minutes ago.

“They’re having car issues,” someone calls back, a phone pressed to their ear.

Great, more waiting. Not that you have anywhere to be. You’re simply here to look pretty and smile when a Sorcerer shows up.

The mansion seems to have calmed down, those cursed energies dissipating and you hope that wasn’t the result of the guys killing each other in there. You don’t know all the gory details of Satoru and Suguru’s relationship. You just know they’re the strongest modern day Sorcerers at the moment, that they used to be extremely close when they were kids and then when Suguru snapped, their friendship quickly went up in flames.

If they had any contact after Suguru’s defection, you’d have no clue. But with the way those cursed energies went into overdrive the moment Suguru entered the mansion, you’re concerned with how their history will affect their time on the show.

You can’t say that you’d hate to be stuck between the middle of those two. How could you? You’re literally on a reality show about being the center of attention for multiple men! And so far, everyone is sexy and charismatic and–

The intense screech of metal scraping along the concrete disrupts your thoughts, and the cameras pan around just in time to catch a limousine rounding the corner and approaching the driveway. The rear tires are completely blown out, the metal wheels barely carrying the vehicle forward. The sounds make you want to cover your ears and hide. The car’s bumper hangs from the back, dragging and knocking loudly along the road as the car moves along. Sparks fly haphazardly across the ground and the smell of burning rubber almost has your eyes watering.

From the corner of your eye, you see another camera swinging around to catch your reaction which is that of astonishment.

“Who is this?!” You speak into the lens, eyes wide like saucers.

The sudden noise of the engine popping and sputtering, surely giving out, pulls your gaze back to the vehicle. It’s stopped for all of three seconds before one enormous fist bursts through the blacked out windows and sends shattered glass flying. Behind you, several people on the crew gasp. That same hand pats around the outside of the car, tattooed muscles flexing until it finally lands on the handle of the door. The chauffeur exits the limo and backs away as quickly and quietly as possible, abandoning their passenger.

And it isn’t until that large hand tears the entire car door from its hinges with little to no effort and tosses it aside carelessly that you see why. Out climbs the largest being you’ve ever seen in your life. No shirt – because how could you dress the four tattooed arms he possesses?! And surely wearing a shirt has to be quite uncomfortable when you have a mouth on your stomach!

It’s clear who this is, because everyone in the Jujutsu world is educated on the strongest curse to have ever existed. And yet you still can’t believe what you’re seeing with your eyes. You need someone else to confirm it for you. And so you turn your head towards the camera, staring straight into it as you shakily ask the audience…

“Is that **BLEEP** Ryoumen Sukuna?!”

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itsnotgray · 2 months

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until forever falls apart | nico hischier

same drill as the cole one, i asked @fantillisdaylight for a player, and this is what became of it. decided this one hurt too good not to share with the masses.

nico and his little childhood girlfriend that start dating at 15, thinking it’s them against the world.

the girlfriend who moves away to canada at 16, promises of forever exchanged amidst the careful kisses they press to each other’s lips.

nico joining her in canada, and for a year, it’s perfect. they’re reunited, and filled with we laugh belief that they may actually make it. they made it when she was in canada, snd he in switzerland, so what can truly part them, if not an ocean?

the nico gets drafted, and still, reality hasn’t hit. “we made it with over 3000 miles between us, 800 is nothing.”

he goes to the show the very next season, headed to new jersey bright eyed and full of hope- hope for a long-lasting relationship, as well as a long-lasting career.

very quickly, nico is swept up in the nhl chaos. the media is more chaotic than ever, swarming through latest number one draft pick, eager to see how he’d perform against the very best.

and somewhere along the way, those 800 miles begin to feel like 3000 again. and suddenly there’s an ocean between them again. and suddenly, it’s like nico isn’t even living in the same stratosphere.

“you haven’t called in weeks nico! i’m lucky to even get a goodnight text. what’s happened to us?”

and nico absorbs the question, searching for answer within himself. “what did happen to us?” he asks himself.

and truthfully, he knew. it was a mixture of things, truly, but there was a primary cause: himself. he brought these problems upon them, and he knew it.

“i’m- “ “nico don’t apologize. i know you. i know how you’re mind works. it’s- it’s not your fault. i just think- i swore we were going to make it. but i think- i think we might’ve been wrong.”

and his heart breaks, but he knows it’s the truth. “‘m sorry,” he croaks out, the breaking of his heart audible, even with some 800 odd miles between them.

“me too,” she sobs back, covering her mouth to try and keep her wails in the confines of her mind, at least until they ended the call.

they didn’t end the call. they stayed on the phone all night, exchanging sobs and apologies, two shattered hearts trying to soothe one another.

at the all star break, nico flys back to halifax, needing one last moment together, not accepting anything less than ending their relationship in an embrace.

he knocked on her door, (the door of the apartment she had moved into at the start of school- nico missed that. he missed a lot. it made his heart hurt thinking about just how much he missed), fully expecting to have to sleep outside her door (but he’d do that, he thought. he’d do it for her. it’s the least she deserved), but to his surprise, she opened the door.

upon her door opening, he was greeted with a sight that made his heart ache in so many unexplainable ways.

she was there, perfect as ever. hair was a little ruffled, but she was perfect. it was like nothing had changed, but it reality, everything had.

“nico,” she sighed out, tears rushing to her eyes at the sight of the boy who had occupied her heart for so long now (but not forever, a voice taunted her inside- that was over now.)

in a blink of an eye, he crossed the threshold of her apartment (that smelt like her favorite candle, he noted inside his head. oh how’d he miss that smell), wrapping her in his arms. at the feeling of his familiar arms encasing her, she broke, sobs wracking her body once again.

“i guess forever wasn’t ours,” he croaked out, a sob cutting him off from continuing his sentence.

“i guess-“ she started, a sob interrupting her sentence. “i guess not,” she finished, tears soaking the fabric of nico’s hoodie (not one of his old ones, she noted. she knew those fabrics. this- this was new. she didn’t like that. it was just a symbol of the distance between them, literally and figuratively).

a while later, after the couple had calmed down, they sat huddled together on the couch, arms still embracing one another.

“it was good, right?” she hesitantly questioned, afraid of the answer he’d respond with.

“the best,” the boy replied.

and with that, it was like the string that tied them together snapped. the feeling was gut wrenching, that much was true. but over time, their hearts would heal. they’d move on, and one day, could hopefully look back on their time together and smile.

but for now, they’d simply remember each other by the ache deep in their chests, the longing that weighed down their bones, and the broken promises of forever in their hearts.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl fics #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #new jersey devils imagine #hockey oneshot #gray writes #nhl fic

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lesbianpepsi · 9 months

Text

Fuck it I love you | part III

pairing: sam carpenter x fem!reader

summary: when paired with Tara Carpenter for a project you were expecting a B or maybe even an A. Not falling in love with Tara's older sister, Sam

series masterlist

words: 1.642k

warnings: bad writing

authors note: a short one but next chap will be much longer :)

You let out a shaky sigh as you grab yet another tissue soaking in the tears rolling down your cheeks at an alarming rate.

Your heart feels as if it was cracking at the borderline cruel words that were said; the word 'why?' in your mind the entire time.

A ring from your phone distracted you from your heart momentarily, sniffling as you grabbed it and answered the phone.

"Hey Y/n, did I leave my watch on the coffee table?" Melanie asks you in a rushed voice as your eyes glanced over the coffee table to see the watch that Melanie owns.

"Yeah it's here." You croak out in a broken voice making Melanie's eyes widen dramatically.

"Y/n? What's wrong? I'll leave this party right now if you need me." She says seriously in a more hushed tone.

You shake your head as a watery chuckle escapes your lips. "No, no it's fine, stay." You insisted as your eyes glanced at the TV screen.

"Why're you crying?" Melanie asks you worriedly, fearing the absolute worst possible thing has happened to you.

And it has. The fucking worst thing.

"I just finished Fleabag again." You inform her as more tears started swarming in instantly at the mention of the show.

Melanie groans loudly. "Fucking hell, Y/n, I thought something actually happened!"

"Something has happened, Melanie. He told her 'it'll pass' that it'll fucking pass!" You sob again as you grab more tissues, your heart cracking even more at the still raw memory.

"You've watched that show so many times how the fuck does the ending still make you cry?" She asks you with a laugh now clearly finding your heart break hilarious.

"She said 'I love you' and he said 'it'll pass.' before saying he loves her too! How could I not cry?" You defended not finding your heartbreak over a TV show humour.

She laughs again. "You and your shows. Chads coming over with shots, I'm off. Toodles."

"Toodles." You sniffle making her let out another laugh before hanging up the call.

You glance at your phone and roll your eyes at the low battery. Typical.

Yeah, it's a Saturday night and here you are, alone in your apartment finishing Fleabag and experiencing the heartbreak that hurts just as much as it did the first time.

Some might say depressing, you say it's the way to live.

With an exaggerated sigh you turn the TV off with the small remote before standing up, heading towards your bedroom to charge your phone.

You reach your desk where the plug is at but frown when you don't see that your charger isn't plugged in.

Where else can it be-

Fuck sakes you forgot it Tara's apartment.

Groaning you grab your phone which only has 3% and shoot the girl a quick message.

Me (20:47pm): hey tar, is it cool if i come over quickly? i forgot my charger there 🙄🙄

Tara🙃 (20:52pm): yeah ofc but-

Before you can see the rest of the text message your phone shuts off to a completely blank screen.

With an annoyed huff you stuff your phone into the pocket of your joggers and go to look for your shoes near the front of the apartment.

At least you saw the permission text you think as you shove your feet into your dirty, broken trainers that you refuse to throw out since shoes are so expensive.

The walk to Carpenter's apartment is only twenty minutes and since the sun hasn't fully set outside you decide a walk won't do any harm.

You're a bit annoyed that you can't listen to any music on the walk so you decide to do the second best thing, think about Sam.

She's just so gorgeous and so sweet with her friends and Tara, how could anyone not constantly think about her?

You've seen Sam a handful of times since the gym, all of them being at their apartment as you and Tara worked on your project.

Tara and you have actually gotten through most of the project so unfortunately you only need to head over there around three more times till the two of you have completed the project.

You can't help but feel relieved to be able to actually finish a project in time before the due date, but there's also a deep pit of disappointment lingering in you too.

What if you never see Sam again after it? There'll be no excuses to come over there anymore unless Tara would invite you over.

Wow, that quickly spiralled into just not happy Sam thoughts.

Thankfully you stop yourself from thinking the worst case scenarios as you've arrived at the apartment complex.

Like routine you head up the stupidly long stairs since the elevator is still broken and after what feels like an eternity you reach their floor.

Knocking on the door three times you patiently wait for Tara to come open the door for you but to your joy it's Sam, looking as annoyed as ever; your heart swoons at the sight.

"What." She grumbled as her eyes travel you up and down, furrowing her brows at your shirt. "What the fuck is your shirt?" She questions before you even get a chance to answer her first question.

You look down at your shirt and giggle not remembering what shirt you're wearing. It's a yellow shirt with a pineapple in the middle wearing a pink thong, under it is the simple word 'Slut'. A shirt you got after your third re-watch of Brooklyn Nine Nine.

"It's from a show, you don't like it? It's actually really soft." You tell her with a smile instinctively feeling your waist to feel the soft texture. "Seriously, for around fifteen dollars and free packing this was a bargain."

Sam hums as she stares at your shirt questioningly before raising her eyes to meet with yours. "And you decided to wear a shirt saying 'slut' in public?"

You nod your head proudly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"People will clearly judge you. Stare." Sam answers speedily as if she already knew what she was going to say.

You shrug your shoulders, a weak laugh escaping your lips. "People who are complete strangers? People who I'll never see again?" You say with a soft smile. "People will always judge, it's our instinct to judge whatever we come across. But you can't let that control your life and stop you from being you; stop that from letting you wear what you want or even like what you like. At the end of the day they're people who I'll never see again."

Sam doesn't say anything for a moment as if she's digesting your words, her eyes never leaving yours for a second. You don't say anything as you gaze back into Sam's cold eyes lovingly.

She leans against the doorframe as she runs a hand through her hair. "Why're you here, Y/n? Tara's not even in."

Your eyes widen as you mentally groan, that was probably the rest of the text message she sent but you couldn't see.

"Shit I'm sorry I didn't know. I sent Tar a message asking if I can come over to get my charger but when she texted back I only saw part of the message of her saying I can come over before my phone died."

Sam sighs as she nods her head weakly stepping back into her apartment as she walks over to her couch, you take this as her letting you to which you do ever so gracefully, shutting the door behind you.

Your eyes avert to Sam's figure sitting on the couch as her back faces you with the TV playing on a low volume, one of your favourite movies playing on the screen.

"I love Little Miss Sunshine." You express with a smile walking towards Sam, resting your hands on top of the couch as you stare at the screen. "It absolutely changed my life, and the first movie I actually loved. Like fully loved."

"It's okay." Sam says with a small smile on her lips as she watches the movie from below you. "I hated it in the beginning but I guess it's sorta growing on me."

"There's a thin line between love and hate." You express your attention only focused on the movie playing on the screen.

Sam tilts her head up as she gazes at your side profile. "I wouldn't say I love it but I definitely like it."

You chuckle at her words, your eyes lighting up in the reflection of the movie that Sam couldn't help but focus on.

"It's growing, right? Give it time and you'll love it like there's no tomorrow." Sam hums very swallowing her eyes and focuses no longer on the movie.

"Did you love it right from the start?" She asks you. Finally you look away from the screen to look into her eyes, a gentle smile grazing your lips.

"Pretty much. You'll love it soon too, I bet you will." You tell her, thinking you're still talking about the movie.

But Sam isn't, Sam isn't thinking of the movie at all.

"But I still don't like some parts of it or even understand it, how're you so sure I'll love it?" Sam tries again, blinking slowly.

You shrug your shoulders before moving around the couch to sit next to her, your thighs touching as you smile at her.

"Give it a chance, this is your first time watching it right?" Sam nods her head. "Then give it a chance, you might surprise yourself and actually really like it in the end."

"Go on a date with me." Sam abruptly asks, barely giving you time to finish your sentence. Her eyes gazed into yours as a small smile nervously appeared on her lips.

Holy fucking shit.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x fem!reader #sam carpenter fluff #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #my fanficiton #my writing #melissa barrera x reader #scream six #fluff

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 5 months

Text

My Dear Sweet Home

Self-Aware! Sigma x GN! Reader

Description: You need a helper for one task. You talk.

Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Give Sigma home he deserves

Sequel to Reading to him

Prequel to Art Forgery

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

A/N: Reader from one shot series getting bits of lore. The next part of"We will protect you" will elaborate a little on it.

_______

"[Y/N], do you think, this place will be my home?" Sigma's voice was quiet. You stopped marking the furniture in the catalog and looked at Sigma.

The table before you were covered in furniture catalog. Some of them you already looked through, others were waiting for their hour. Alcott, who brought this catalogs, overdid herself, by bringing two backpacks full of pamphlets.

And it was your job to look through it.

Fitzgerald finally found the house, that was big enough for all of you. And, he offered you to look through the catalogs and looked at the furniture for new house. And you immediately rope Sigma into helping you. His opinion about what to put in the new house deserved to be heard.

You two sat next to each other on the couch, looking through countless furniture catalogs.

Everything went well, until this moment. You were looking through decor part of the catalog, where all this "Home Sweet Home" things were displayed.

And Sigma asked his question. You put pen and catalog down. Sigma was waiting for your answer.

"Beg pardon?" His home? Is Sigma thinking, that you will kick him out? Or forget him in this apartment? He looked sad, nervous. And... hopeless. He looked at you, his eyes looked tired. Sigma point at picture of the house and a building plan.

"Will this place be my home? Will I finally found home?" you didn't answer at first. Sigma spoke again. "I knew, you already have home, so, my question may sound dumb to you, but, please, can you answer me?"

Home... Do you even have a home?

He looked like he was ready to plead. Your own thoughts swarmed your mind. You licked your lips and spoke.

"What is 'home' for you, Sigma? I need to hear it, before I answer your question."

Sigma looked at the distance, thinking.

"It's a place, where I belong. Where I feel safe. Where I can find people, that don't want to use me. Where I can be happy."

You feel tears in your eyes. You try to wipe them as stealthy as you can. In that definition, you also don't have a home anymore. Only a house. Should you share some of it with Sigma?

Not should. You must.

"Then both of us must hope, that new house will be our home, Sigma." your voice was soft. Sigma looked at you, baffled.

"But, this place... And you mentioned your family... Aren't you..."

You laughed. The laugh was hoarse and mixed with sobs. You wipe your tears again. You start talking, slowly, carefully choosing the words.

"My family don't want to see me. Ever since I promised to do something during last family reunion..." You chew your lips. Sigma looked like he wanted to ask more. You elaborate a little. "Nothing Illegal. Moreover, one day, I will be in the right to do it. But, my family didn't want me to do it."

Sigma looked confused.

"What do you want to do?" You looked guilty. But you can't tell him or others right now. You shook your head.

"Sorry. I can't tell for now. It's a long story. Something terrible happened in my childhood. And, what I am planning to do is connected to what happened. I am not ready to tell about it." After a few moments of thinking, you add. "I promise, one day I will tell you and others about my past. But, sorry, not today."

Sigma looked like he wanted to say something, but, he simply nodded, showing, that he understands. You decide to continue your speech about not having a home.

"Ever since I tell them my decision, they constantly remind me, that I am not welcomed in my parent's house. That I am not welcomed in any family gathering." You take a breath. "Mom doesn't agree with then, but, there are too many of them. And every call with them ends in futile attempts to make me change my decision."

You looked at Sigma again.

"So, I don't belong, I don't feel safe, people want to use me, and I am not happy. I don't have a home. And that" you slap one of the walls. "I am renting this place, and, I don't think I will stay here, after I graduate."

You leaned back on the couch. You were silent. The familiar sense of loneliness crept into your soul. You forced yourself to speak.

"I hope that new house will be a home to you, Sigma. And that it will become my home as well."

You reached out to Sigma, taking his hand in yours.

"I hope, that we will find our home. Both as in a place, and as in people."

Sigma scoots closer to you. He gave you a side hug and put his chin on your head. He squeezed your hand.

"I... Back in the app... I hoped that my home will be next to you. And I think, that's how it will be. [Y/N], let's find our new home together."

You turned your face a little and nuzzle his neck. On a whim, you kissed his cheek.

"Deal, Sigma."

Sigma chuckled.

"No problem, Cookie Heart."

You chocked on air. How did he call you? You feel, how your cheeks became warmer.

Noticing your face expression, Sigma blushes.

"Sorry! Just... All of us have a nickname for you, besides Guiding Light. And, I thought that moment was appropriate..."

You blinked a few times and smiled.

"Don't worry. If you want, you can call me that." you mentally repeated your new nickname.

'Cookie Heart... Cute'

The moment between you and Sigma were interrupted by Steinbeck's voice, who called from the kitchen.

"Sigma, [Y/N], are you going to join us for lunch? Or you two decide to skip lunch and bury your noses in the catalogs?"

You and Sigma glance at each other. Then Sigma stands up.

"We are coming. Shall we, Cookie Heart?" he held his hand towards you. You took it.

"We shall... Sigma, I want to promise you something." You looked at the former casino manager. Sigma raise an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak.

"I promise, that I will never ask you to use your ability. Friends don't use each other. Family don't use each other."

Sigma didn't look surprised. He hugged you.

"I knew, that you will say this. Back then, you also promised that I won't be used."

You stay like this for some time. After another shout from the kitchen from John, wondering if the 'two turtles get lost', you two finally go to the kitchen.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #sigma x reader #sigma bungou stray dogs #bsd sigma #sigma x you #sigma x y/n #Self-Aware Sigma

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Series)

Summary: Before dying in the Upside Down, Eddie asks Steve to take care of you. The grief coupled with your burgeoning feelings for one another may be too much for you to handle, especially when you get some shocking news.

Warnings: mentions of smut (18+ only just to be safe), Eddie's death is canon, medical issues, language, so much angst

WC: 3.9k

A/N: This is chapter one in a series I'm writing. It's heavy on the angst, but I promise it lightens up in future chapters 💚 it's based on the song "Ghostin'" by Ariana Grande and was requested by an anon, but I don't want to publish the ask because it would give away a major plot point.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“No…no! Please NO!”

Steve is snapped out of his daze, too light to be considered a slumber, by the sounds of your cries. They are nightly occurrences at this point, and he’s well-versed in handling them after seeing you struggle for the last month.

He nudges you gently, careful not to startle you further. “Y/N, wake up,” he whispers, wiping the sleep from his brown eyes. “You’re here; you’re safe.”

Your lashes flutter as you claw your way out of the nightmare, a scene set by threatening maroon clouds, deadly vines, and squawking bats with faces that open. Tears dampen your cheeks and stain your pillowcase. “Ed–Eddie?” you murmur, face falling when you realize that he’s not the warm body next to you.

Steve shakes his head, used to this routine. “No, it’s me. It’s Steve.” He’d been crashing at your apartment ever since you’d returned from the Upside Down. You didn’t want to be alone, and his parents didn’t keep tabs on where he slept, so it was the perfect arrangement. He’d been apprehensive about sharing your bed, but you’d insisted, and he couldn’t deny that it was comfier than the couch or a sleeping bag.

You’re momentarily confused; why is Steve “The Hair” Harrington sleeping next to you, and not your metalhead boyfriend? But then it all comes flooding back: Eddie pedaling frantically, makeshift shield flung across his back, you begging him to stop. The way your heart sank when he desperately tried to fend off the swarm of demobats, only to be pinned to the ground and torn apart by their barbed wire tails. His soft voice, reassuring you that he loved you, that you were the love of his life, even managing a blood-tinged smile when he said your name. And then…nothing. Only silence, disrupted by the sound of you and Dustin sobbing over his lifeless body.

“M sorry,” you mutter now; the embarrassment of being so vulnerable in front of someone you’d barely known a month ago is all-too present. “I don’t know why this keeps happening…doesn’t seem to get any better.”

Steve brushes a strand of hair from your face, hands faltering at the warmth of your skin. “You don’t need to apologize,” he tells you, just as he does every night. “What you went through…no one should ever have to deal with that.” The premise of the alternate dimension was horrific enough, let alone watching the person you love die from its creatures and then having to leave them there. Steve couldn’t imagine it.

After meeting Eddie, Steve quickly learned about his new friend’s love for you. Eddie wasn’t shy about it–wasn’t shy about most things, to be fair–but their walk in the Upside Down’s woods really cemented it. Always boisterous, Eddie’s demeanor suddenly shifted, and he struggled to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Hey, Harrington,” he’d started, picking at his fingernails anxiously. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us here, but, uh, if I don’t…make it, can you promise me something?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Steve said quickly. The thought of losing anyone in the party was enough to make his stomach curdle.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and grabbed Steve’s forearm. “Just listen to me.” His tone was harsher, more serious this time. “I need you to make sure Y/N is taken care of. She’s everything to me; I need to know she’ll be okay.”

Steve nodded and cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’ll do that for you.” The fear was palpable, and he tried to ease it with a joke. “Still don’t know how you managed to pull someone like her, though.” He hadn’t really noticed you before, even though you’d graduated together. He was always too wrapped up in himself, and he regretted it now that he was getting to know you.

Eddie’s laughter breaks through Steve’s thoughts. “That, my friend,” he clapped a ringed hand on Steve’s back, “will remain one of life’s greatest mysteries.”

Steve’s eyes flicker over to the alarm clock by your bedside. “It’s only 4 AM,” he says. “You can still go back to sleep.”

“I hate sleeping,” you admit quietly. “Every time I do, I’m brought back to that day. My mind just replays it over and over…I can never get a break.”

Steve’s problem is the opposite–he can’t sleep. His brain and body are constantly on edge, and any time he’s about to drift off, a surge of adrenaline kicks in and wakes him. Even keeping the nail bat by the bed doesn’t help; the dark circles and bags under his eyes prove it.

“We can just talk, if you want. About anything,” he says, scooting closer to you while maintaining a respectful distance. “Like, did I tell you how Robin kept track of all the times I struck out with girls when we worked at Scoops?”

You offer a semblance of a smile as you turn over to face him. “No, but I’d love to hear about this.”

The two of you trade stories until the sun rises hours later. Steve drags himself from the comfort of your bed, grimacing as the cool air hits his toes. He pulls on the puke-green Family Video vest and attaches his nametag, padding out to the kitchen to make some coffee. Caffeine is the only thing keeping him from passing out behind the wheel.

You follow behind him, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. Instinctively, you reach for the Odie one before pushing it back on the shelf. Tears prick at your eyes when you think of Eddie’s matching Garfield mug, probably destroyed during Vecna’s rampage. You’d bought them at the mall together last year, too cute and cheesy to pass up.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna take mine to-go,” Steve tells you, plucking a travel mug from the pile. “Are you gonna be okay?”

You nod as you add a spoon of sugar to your drink. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You squeeze his hand, leaving shivers shooting down his spine. “Gotta get ready for work, too.” Your boss had given you a week of bereavement leave, but you’d been back for a bit. Being a receptionist at Hawkins Dental wasn’t too stressful, save for a few obnoxious patients, but it was still hard going through the motions of your daily routine like nothing happened. Like your heart hadn’t been ripped out of your chest and discarded in the Upside Down.

Steve stumbled into Family Video, giving Robin a bleary-eyed smile as he took his place behind the counter. She sighs, exasperated, at the sight of her exhausted friend.

“Keith won’t be in for another two hours if you wanna get some rest,” she says softly, nodding towards the break room. “I can cover for you.”

“Nah, I’m good now,” he replies, shaking the empty coffee cup for emphasis. “But thank you.” He places it down and starts checking in the returned movies. “How’ve you been dealing with…everything?”

Robin nods slowly before allowing her facade to falter. “Awful,” she admits. “Sometimes, I feel those vines wrapping around me. I’m still in shock that we made it out, y’know?” Steve puts an arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. “How’re you and Y/N?”

He shrugs, grabbing the VHSes to place them back on their shelves. “I don’t sleep and she has nightmares. This morning she…she thought I was Eddie again. Just for a second, but she was so happy. And then, when she realized it was me…”

“Steve,” Robin places her hand on his back. She recognizes the heartbroken look on his face. “I didn’t want to ask this but…do you have, like, feelings for her?” Steve just cocks an eyebrow, a warning for her to stop, but Robin plows on. “Look, I get it. We all still think of her as Eddie’s girl. But it’s okay if you’re having feelings for her. It doesn’t make you a bad person. Or friend.”

Steve relents, burying his head in his hands. “Then why do I feel like a piece of shit? Like I’m trying to steal her away from him? Not that it matters,” he adds hastily. “I think she’ll always be in love with Eddie.”

“Give her time,” Robin reassures him. “It’s only been about five weeks. Until she’s ready to date again,” she gives him a pointed look, taking some cassettes from his hand and reshelving them, “promise me you’ll take care of yourself, too. Eddie wouldn’t have asked you to look after her if he thought you’d be compromising your own health.”

He nods, making his way to the breakroom. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that nap,” he says. “But, um, Robs?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t wanna confuse her or make her feel uncomfortable.”

“Of course.” Robin isn’t usually known for her secret-keeping skills, but she knows how important it is for both you and Steve to heal before confronting more major feelings. “Go rest now.”

“Aye aye, captain.” Steve gives a half-hearted salute. When he sleeps, he dreams about kissing you, cradling your face in his hands, the softness of your lips pulling him in deeper. And when he breaks away, he looks up to see Eddie standing there, hurt and shock written all over his face.

You get home around 5:30 PM, and while your legs feel like sandbags, you drag yourself to the kitchen to cook dinner. You can’t stomach another night of takeout, especially given Hawkins’ limited options. You fill a pot with water and put it to boil, rummaging through your cabinet for a box of pasta. Steve has been coming over for dinner, so you make the whole box. The man is a bottomless pit; it completely juxtaposes your lack of appetite. You bite back nausea as you twist open a jar of marinara sauce. All you want is to throw yourself under the covers and cry yourself to sleep, but Steve will just worry about you if you don’t at least try to eat.

The queasiness doesn’t subside as you walk into the bedroom, even though you no longer smell the pasta or sauce. Overwhelming flashes of heat surge through your body, and you start to strip off your polo shirt that’s already begun clinging to your sweat-soaked torso. That minor exertion of energy drains you immediately as lightheadedness sets in. Spots dance before your eyes and your knees buckle. The last thing you remember is trying to maneuver your hands out in front of you to brace your fall.

“Y/N? Y/N, oh my God!” The sound of Steve’s frantic voice stirs you. You try to push yourself up, but you can’t withstand any kind of pressure on your hand. “Ow,” you hiss, pulling it to your chest. Your wrist is swollen, and you realize that it must be broken. Better that than my head, you suppose.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, gingerly helping you sit up. “Let me get you some water. Did you eat enough today?”

“M fine,” you mutter, “‘s just my wrist.” His eyes widen when he takes notice of it.

“C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital. You’ll probably need a cast; we can put some ice on it in the meantime to get that swelling down.”

“All right, Florence Nightingale,” you tease him gently. It feels good to joke; even better to make Steve laugh. “Oh, shit–the food on the stove…” After you give another failed attempt to stand, Steve puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Wait here,” he instructs. “I’ll turn everything off and help you up.” You slump back, clutching your aching wrist to your chest. Once again, Steve Harrington is picking up your broken pieces, and you have nothing to offer in return.

“Does it hurt?” Steve briefly lets his gaze drift from the road to your wrist, which currently has a bag of frozen peas wrapped around it.

“Just a little,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m okay, Steve. You don’t have to worry about me.” You let out a sigh, sinking back against the seat. “I feel bad that you worry about me so much. I feel bad that you’re always helping me.”

Steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “I don’t mind. That’s what friends do: drive to the hospital when they get hurt, help them defeat evil creatures in a parallel universe; you know, the usual stuff.”

His goofiness makes you giggle despite the pain emanating from your hand and the seriousness of the situation.

“There’s that smile!” he says proudly. He pulls into the hospital parking lot and shuts off the car. “And before you argue, I’m waiting with you. The only thing worse than the injury is the boredom. They never even play anything good on the TV!”

“When we came to visit Max, they were showing a badminton game. Who the hell watches badminton?” Your grin widens as he laughs with you.

“Sounds like some shit my dad’s country club buddies play,” he rolls his eyes as he opens your door for you and walks you to the ER doors. “D’you need help filling anything out?”

You shake your head. “Lucky for me, I didn’t land on my dominant hand.” You twist your good wrist back and forth. “See? Good to go.”

Steve stifles a chuckle, crossing his right leg over his left thigh. He insists on taking your completed forms back up to the receptionist, despite you telling him you were perfectly capable of doing it yourself.

Two hours pass before a nurse finally calls your name. Both you and Steve stand up, but she shoos him away. “We are only allowing patients in at the moment due to our full capacity.” He nods; though the “earthquake” happened just over a month ago, Hawkins residents are still dealing with injuries and residual effects from smoke inhalation.

“I’ll be waiting here if you need me,” he tells you, and you give him a smile as the nurse leads you to triage. She takes your vitals, avoiding your delicate wrist, before leading you to a curtained-off bed, where another scrubbed-up woman is waiting.

“We’ll just need to do some blood tests; cross our t’s and dot our i’s before the x-ray, okay hon?” She doesn’t look up from her clipboard. Her bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired; everything about her is stiff and stale. You hold out your arm for the phlebotomist, wincing slightly as the needle pinches your skin. She promises to return quickly with the results.

Back in the waiting room, Steve finds himself drifting off to sleep. He tries to fight it in case you need him, but exhaustion overtakes him. It’s a losing battle. His dream doesn’t involve Eddie’s disapproving glare, though he’d prefer that to the nightmare that wracks his brain. He’s staring straight at Vecna, inhaling the sulfuric smell of the Upside Down with each panting breath. He braces himself in a set stance to hurl the molotov cocktail at the heinous creature, but realizes that his hands are empty.

“Robin? Nancy?” he calls out, voice barely above a whisper, but his friends are nowhere to be found. He’s all alone, defenseless and at Vecna’s mercy. “Dustin? Eddie? Y/N?” The chances of the three of you being in the Creel house are minimal, and the resounding silence confirms his worst fears. Vecna advances towards him, and Steve cowers behind a pillar, awaiting his fate.

He’s startled awake by the person sitting next to him, just as Dream Steve is about to die.

“Dude, shut up,” the guy growls. “Go wait in your car if you’re gonna make noise while you sleep, Jesus.”

“S-sorry, man,” Steve stutters. He sits up and rubs his eyes, exhaling slowly. Guess that’s the last of me sleeping in public, he thinks with a grimace. Life was so much simpler before he got involved with all of this.

But then you wouldn’t have met Y/N, he reasons. And though he’d started looking after you because Eddie had asked him to, he continues to do so because he genuinely wants to. Bringing you comfort and making you smile means the world to him. And your laugh? It’s like music to his ears. Damn, Robin was right–he was down bad.

Maybe one day, I’ll tell her. Once she stops wishing I was Eddie when she wakes up. Then I’ll tell her.

You’re waiting for the nurse to come back to bring you for your x-ray, sitting on the examination table and swinging your legs. Your nausea has mostly subsided; now, your stomach is loudly grumbling. Pasta still sounds unappealing, but maybe you can manage soup and a few Saltine crackers. If only this grumpy nurse would put a move on it, and you’d be home snuggling under your blankets. Steve would probably watch a movie with you; you’ll let him pick since he’s been doing so much for you.

After what seems like ages, the nurse shuffles over to you. “Your bloodwork results are in,” she announces. “Everything looks good; no anemia or anything of the like. Unfortunately, we will not be able to perform the x-ray, for the safety of your baby.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “My…baby? I don’t have a baby,” you tell her. “I’m only nineteen!”

She flips through your chart. “The pregnancy test we ran came back positive,” she says, frowning. “When was your last menstrual period?”

“It was…” you think back, and your mouth goes dry when you realize it was mid-March. “A few weeks before the earthquake,” you choke out.

“I see,” she continues. “That would put you at around ten weeks pregnant.” She makes a note on your chart before pressing on. “And have you had any other pregnancy symptoms? Nausea, fatigue, mood swings, food aversions?”

All of them, you think miserably. You had chalked everything up to stress and grief, but the truth was so blatantly obvious that now you felt foolish. You nod dumbly as she writes it down. You and Eddie had been so careful, always using protection. The only exception was that one night, between visits to the Upside Down. Eddie pulled you into an empty bedroom in the Wheeler house, tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need you,” he’d said. He was trembling when he spoke to you. “I’m s’fucking scared. Just need to be as close to you as I can.”

You’d kissed him, gently but passionately. His hands slid under your shirt as he brought your body even closer to his. His tongue parted your lips as you both fell onto the bed, clothes tossed onto the floor haphazardly. Eddie’s nose nudged your own, a mixture of your tears and his staining your cheeks.

“I love you,” he’d managed between sobs, pushing into you with a soft hiss. “I love you, I love you, I love you. Whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that.”

A small moan escaped your lips as he filled you entirely. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you reassured him, though your confidence had lowered considerably since actually seeing the monsters that awaited your return. “We’ll be fine. You’re gonna graduate, move into my apartment, and we can finally begin our lives together.”

But it was like Eddie didn’t hear you, like he already knew none of that would happen. “Jus’ hold me, please,” he whispered, fingers digging into the small of your back.

You’d wrapped your arms around him, murmuring, “My beautiful, beautiful boy. It’s only ever been you, only ever will be you.” You brush his curly hair out of his eyes as the two of you work in tandem, focusing only on each other. There was no time to worry about birth control with the potential end of the world just hours away.

“You still have options, but you don’t have much time to make a choice.” The nurse's voice breaks your trance. She hands you a list of providers, giving you the closest expression to a comforting smile she’s shown all evening. “Whichever decision you make, just know it will be the right one.”

Your good hand instinctively flies to your stomach. The fact that there’s a little Eddie in there leaves you breathless. There’s no evidence of a bump yet, but at ten weeks along, you know it’s not far off. You’re carrying Eddie’s baby, and he’s not even alive to be there for you. Had to be a goddamn hero for a town that hated him, neglecting to notice that he’d be leaving behind the love of his life.

The nurse wraps your arm in a sling, and you make your way back out to the waiting room. Steve jumps up as soon as he sees you enter.

“Verdict?” he asks, grimacing at the bandage. “You gonna need an amputation?”

Normally, you’d laugh at his silly joke, but you can’t manage it. “‘S all good,” you say, unable to meet his eye. There was no way he could know about your pregnancy. Not because he’d run away screaming; just the opposite, actually. He’d want to continue doting on you and your unborn child, and you couldn’t take any more. You were so tired of being his pathetic little pity case. No, you and Eddie had gotten yourselves into this, and since Eddie wasn’t here, you had to deal with it by yourself.

The drive back to your apartment is silent, which Steve chalks up to you having a long day. He pulls into his usual parking spot–management might as well reserve it for him at this point–and pauses before turning off the ignition.

“Don’t worry about dinner; I can run out and grab fast food or something,” he tells you.

“Actually, I think you should go home,” you blurt out. “I want to be alone tonight.”

To your surprise, he looks crestfallen; you’d thought he’d be relieved to get a break from your night terrors. “Okay…I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

You shake your head. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together, and maybe we should try to get through this without each other.” The words hurt as they leave your lips, but the thought of him, not Eddie, getting you through your pregnancy is too harsh to bear.

“Did I do something to upset you?” he muses. “If I did, I’m really sorry…” You can practically see the cogs turning as he tries to figure out what he did wrong.

“No, Steve, it’s…” What could you possibly say to him? It’s not you, it’s me? Or, more accurately: it’s not you, it’s the unborn child I have with my dead boyfriend? “It’s just a lot right now, and…and I need a little space.” Still cliche, but you can’t muster up a better excuse.

Steve drops his gaze to the gearshift. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles. “Um, I guess, let me know if you need me.”

I won’t. “I will,” you lie easily, dashing through the doors before you start to cry in front of him.

Steve watches as you leave his car, confusion written all over his face. He had one job—to take care of you for Eddie—and he’d failed without even knowing. He slams his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck!” he cries out. He throws the car in reverse and speeds away, fury and tears blurring the road in front of him.

In the comfort of your apartment, you finally sit down on your bed, relishing in the silence and familiarity. “It’s just you and me, little bean,” you whisper down to your still-flat belly. “We’re gonna get through this together.”

#ghostin #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x female reader #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things

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atlasscrumpit · 4 months

Text

Evil Bucky/Avengers x Reader

(trigger warning SA, violence and abuse)

His hands roamed your body as his eyes looked into yours with complete hunger.

"My reward." He growled kissing your neck roughly.

"Soldier..." You whispered before he gripped your neck roughly.

"Don't give me that fucking tone." He growled as you looked at him in fear.

"You are mine, my fucking reward for everything hydra put me through. I fucking deserve this." He growled leaning in to bite your neck roughly, tears sprung to your eyes as you yelped in pain.

He leaned back and glared at you.

"You're my prize, understand?" He whispered threateningly, his hand going back to your throat.

"Please... Stop this." You whispered as he scowled and gripped your throat tighter.

"Try again!" He screamed in your face as you yelped in shock and cried more.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry." You whispered as he became angrier.

"Answer me!" He shouted as yiu cried even more.

"I can't remember what you said!" You screamed as he rolled his eyes and threw you onto the floor.

"I forget how fucking broken you are." He grumbled before storming off.

You curled up on the floor and cried softly, feeling the cold air hit your skin.

After crying you snuck out of the dimly lit room and out to the living room.

You curled up on the couch like a beaten up puppy, the holes in the windows letting in the winter air.

After an hour you slowly fell asleep, Bucky came in to see you curled up on the crappy couch.

He sighed and grabbed a small blanket and covered you.

He knelt down beside you and looked at your soft sleeping face.

"Why do I do this to you? I deserve it... Don't I? I went through so much... The soldier deserves a perfect thing like you. We deserve you." He growled staring at your peaceful face.

He reached up and gently began to play with your hair.

You slowly began to wake up as Bucky smiled. You looked into his eyes and stayed silent, you weren't sure what mood he was in.

"You're so perfect... So beautiful." He whispered still playing with your hair.

"Are you okay?" You whispered making him smile.

"Oh, yes. I'm perfect, doll. Because of you." He said leaning in to kiss you softly.

"Are you hungry, my love?" He asked as you nodded a little.

"Stay here and I'll go get a nice big feast for us, okay?" He said kindly, slowly standing up.

You sat up and smiled a little.

"Thank you." You whispered before he leant down and kissed you again.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Bucky returned an hour later with two large bags of take away.

With all the online ordering these days it wasn't hard to steal someone else's order.

You helped him set the 'table' that was barely standing and sat across from him and began to eat.

You were so hungry.

Once you were done you sat back in your seat, Bucky's eyes on you like usual.

"Do you want me to clean up?" You asked as he chuckled.

"After. It can wait." He said spreading his legs as you looked away.

"Come here." He demanded as you slowly stood up, you went over to him and straddled his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His hands went under your shirt and ran over your soft skin.

"Our little play session was cut short before, wasn't it?" He grumbled starting to kiss your neck.

He gripped your hips and was about to bite you again before the flimsy door was busted down.

Bucky threw you off him and began fighting the agents that began swarming the apartment.

"Soldier!" You screamed in fear as two agents grabbed you.

He tried to fight them off before he was knocked out.

You screamed even more trying to break free before you saw Captain America.

You stopped and stared at him.

"Steve...?" You asked as the agents forced you to your knees.

Steve came over to you and looked down at you.

"Who are you?" He asked, looking intimidating.

"My name is Y/N." You replied as he nodded, he made a gesture to the agents and they quickly knocked you out.

When you awoke again you felt yourself sitting in an uncomfortable upright position.

You groaned and slowly opened your eyes to see Captain America in front of you.

"Took you longer than I thought to wake up. How do you know who I am?" He asked, tilting his head a little and narrowing his eyes.

"Bucky talked about you a lot..." You muttered as he nodded.

"So, I'm guessing you're pretty close to him. He told me everything you do to him." He said as you looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" You muttered in response.

"Don't act innocent. We know you're a hydra agent, we also know that you control the winter solider." He said as you looked at him in shock.

"What? That's not true at all... Bucky kidnapped me after he escaped hydra... He never let me leave, he forced me into things and punished me." You replied as he chuckled.

"I'll be honest, you're great at the whole innocent act." He said, you felt tears in your eyes.

"He lied to save himself? After everything he did to me?" You muttered to yourself as you stared at the table in front of you.

"I guess we'll never know. You'll be going to prison for the rest of your life." He said, standing up before you stood up, still restrained.

"No! Wait! Please... Please I know Bucky is your friend but he is lying!" You said grabbing Steve's arm as he looked down at you.

"You think I'm lying? Huh?" You growled as you began to strip your shirt off, a bit hard with restraints on.

Steve looked at you in confusion.

"Do you see these fucking stars carved into my body?! Your best fucking friend Bucky did that! And that's not the only wounds I have." You growled rolling your pants up to reveal a scar that said the word 'soldier.'

"For all I know you did that yourself." He grumbled as you chuckled dryly.

"And for all you know maybe I am telling the fucking truth, maybe Bucky loved me in a sick fucked up way, maybe your best friend fucking raped me nearly everyday! Maybe your best friend fucking sold me out after everything he did!" You screamed as tears rolled down your face.

Steve stopped and you could slowly see the big scary agent fading away.

"Please... I'll do anything to prove it." You whispered, grabbing his wrist as he looked down at you and sighed.

"I didn't want to believe it... When I talked to him, it was like I was talking to my old buddy again but...there wasn't anything behind his eyes, it was so cold." He whispered as you looked at him with hope.

"Steve... He's gone, the Bucky you knew is gone. All that's left is a monster." You whispered in response as Steve's face softened.

"We'll put you both through a lie detector test... One that's a lot more advanced then the ones in Hydra, so we know it'll work." He said as you leapt forward and hugged him.

He stood there awkwardly and gently tapped your bare back, you still didn't have a shirt on.

"Um... It's okay. Come on, let's go get you some food."

You sat in a chair with various things strapped to your body.

You felt so nervous.

Tony and Steve sat in front of you.

"Now, what's your full name?" Tony asked as you stuttered a little.

"It's actually um...my name at birth was 870." You muttered as they nodded, the machine saying it was truthful.

They asked a few question they knew were true to test the machine before the real questions started.

"Did Bucky ever hurt you physically?" Tony asked.

"Yes."

"Did Bucky ever be sexual with you without your consent?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever hurt Bucky?"

"No."

The questions kept going on and on until finally it was over.

"Well, it looks like the machine is on your side." Steve said as you signed in relief.

You knew you were telling the truth but you were terrified even the machine would turn against you.

"We'll get Bucky in next, do you want to stay where he can't see and watch?" Steve asked as you thought for a moment and nodded.

You needed to see the lying for yourself.

Bucky was sitting in the chair, you could tell he had a fake face plastered on.

They did the same routine they did with you before they got to the first real question.

"Did you ever harm Y/N?" Steve asked.

"Never."

FALSE

You could see Bucky's jaw clenched as the machine denied him the chance to lie.

"Did you ever sexually abuse Y/N?"

"No."

FALSE

Bucky grit his teeth together and glared at Tony before putting on his fake innocent face.

"The machine has to be broken... Steve, please you know me, you know I would never do anything like this." Bucky begged as you watched from behind a one way mirror.

"I used to think that... But, it's expected that Hydra changed you, Buck. Y/N showed me the scars, all of her questions were true." Steve explained as Bucky grew angrier, his innocent facade slowly starting to melt away.

"That bitch has no clue what she's talking about! She's a fucking monster and no one will listen to me! You think just cause she's pretty she won't hurt you, huh? I saw her in Hydra, she was fucking ruthless. She deserves what I do to her!" Bucky shouted angrily.

TRUE

You stood there in shock staring at him.

"Well... There we have it." Tony muttered as Steve looked at his former best friend with sadness in his eyes.

"From here on out Shield will be dealing with you. Whether they put you in prison or some sort of rehab program is up to them." Steve muttered as Bucky tried to break free, Tony quickly pushed a button and Bucky was knocked out.

"The hell was that?" Steve asked as Tony looked at him and shrugged.

"Why would I build a piece of machinery without something in it to knock people out?"

You sat across from Steve once again, you were about to find out what punishment you would get for your crimes while in Hydra.

"Shield has done a very in depth evaluation and they think it's best for you to be at a rehabilitation centre for a few years. It's not like a prison, it's somewhere you can rest and get the help you need. You've been through a lot and I can't imagine what it's done to your mind." Steve said as you sighed in relief and smiled.

"Thank you so much." You whispered making him smile.

"I'll come visit you every few months to see how you're going." He said as you looked at him with confusion.

"Why would you wanna visit me?" You muttered making him chuckle softly.

"Everyone needs a friend, right? And... After what Bucky has done to you, I can't just let you leave and forget you." He said as you smiled, feeling like you would tear up from the kind gesture.

"Then, I guess I'll see you soon, Cap."

#Bucky Barnes #The winter soldier #Yandere #Ish #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky x Reader

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rosalynesimp · 1 year

Text

Secretly in love. Part 1.

Alcina Dimitrescu x Y/N.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI :)

Tags: blood, fluff, slow burning

Notes: There will be a part two hopefully soon enough x

pentru Dumnezeu - for God’s sake. Please let me know, if i translated it wrong!

“No, no, draga mea!”

I cried out, running toward your barely breathing body. Lycans circled around you, biting on your flesh, tearing you apart alive. She could see blood spraying around from your throat as you chocked, not being able to fight against lycans anymore.

I pulled out my claws, making them go through one of lycans huge bodies, throwing it aside. Other monsters started retreating, leaving your now lifeless body. I kneeled down, tears running down my cheeks as I cup your face in my gloved hands, leaning down to press my forehead against your chest.

“Y/N, pentru Dumnezeu, please, stay alive!”

I screamed, shutting my eyes closed as I let tears cover my face.

“Mother!”

I raised my head to look around. It was Bela for sure. No, no! Not my daughters walking out! It’s too cold for them! I picked up your body, holding you close to my chest. Your blood soaked through my white dress but I couldn’t care less about it now. There’s not a single chance I could leave you here to be torn to pieces by those disgusting monsters.

“Mother!”

I turned around, Bela’s voice got closer.

“Mother, wake up!”

Bela shouted.

“Mother! Please!”

Alcina jumps on the bed. Her breath is heavy and she looks around before she sees all three daughters sitting by her side, absolutely terrified. Bela immediately wraps her arms around mother’s neck, tearing up a bit. Lady Dimitrescu wraps her big arm around daughter’s waist, pulling her close as she tries to calm down.

“Mother, what happened? I can hear your heartbeat from over here.”

Cassandra asks and Daniela crawls closer to her Mother. She places her hand on Alcina’s arm, gently caressing it. Cassandra still sits aside, but Alcina can see fear in her golden eyes.

Alcina is still silent. She presses her cheek against Bela’s head, her eyes closed. She feels tears rolling down her pale cheeks. She takes a deep breath as she looks around the chamber. She can hardly focus her vision so she closes her eyes again and lets herself rest against Bela’s body.

It takes her few minutes before Alcina pulls away and smiles slightly at her daughters. She brushes her hair behind her ears and wraps a blanket around her chest to make herself more comfortable.

“Thanks, daughters. You may leave now.”

“Are you sure, mother?”

Daniela asks quietly as she looks at her mother worriedly.

“Yes. I feel… better.”

She can’t be weak for too long in front of her daughters. She’s their mother after all and she’s the one who needs to comfort them when they feel bad.

Alcina nods with a soft smile upon her lips. Daughters turn into three swarms of flies, leaving the room to let their mother get some privacy.

Alcina isn’t used to nightmares. She hasn’t have them since Miranda experimented on her. It was the first time in a while and it scared her to death.

It’s been about six months now since Alcina got a new maid, Y/N, from Miranda. Five and a half, to be exact. Just another experiment that went wrong. Alcina almost immediately felt herself falling in love with you.

Those feelings were terrifying for her for the first few months. She’s been hiding them for so long that almost forgot what it felt like. After your appearance she felt her heart warming up again.

She gets up, walking to her vanity to grab a morning cigarette. She’s wearing a long black nightgown that hangs on thin straps on her shoulders. Alcina lights up a cigarette, looks at her own reflection in the mirror and sighs. Seems like wrinkles got more visible or it was just a subdued lighting? Her eyes are red from crying through the nightmare.

It takes her an hour to get read. Lady Dimitrescu did her make up as usual, put her wine-colored lipstick on before walking downstairs. She holds a cigarette in a long elegant holder as she looks around. Alcina puts her imperturbable mask on. There’s no need to show maids and daughters her true emotions.

The main maid greets Lady Dimitrescu in the Dinning Room as soon as she walks in. Olga, the main maid, puts the plates and a bottle of wine on the table before Alcina’s chair and bows down before stepping away. Lady Dimitrescu quietly sits at the table, nodding.

“Thank you, Olga. Is everything alright? You seem worried.”

Alcina asks in a soft tone.

Olga sighs before she speaks.

“My Lady, we ran out of timber this morning. I decided to send Y/N to get some-“

“No. There’s no need to send Y/N.”

“My Lady, but why?”

“I’ve… got work for her. She’s not going out and it’s not negotiable.”

“But-

“Be a dear, Olga, let her know. And send someone else to get some woods. Elena would do just fine.”

Lady Dimitrescu says as she raises an eyebrow. She pours some wine in her goblet, swirling it around before taking a sip. Olga bows down again.

“Will do, My Lady.”

Olga says.

“You’re dismissed now.”

*****

“My Lady, you called?”

“Oh, it’s you, Y/N. Come in.”

Lady Dimitrescu gives you a slight nod, not looking away from her diary. She keeps writing something down as you look around. You’ve never been in her chambers before and actually it looks quite impressive. Every thing in the room is carefully placed on it’s own spot which is a rare thing in the castle since there are three sisters. The size of the bed amused you. It isn’t just a regular sized bed for sure. Lady Dimitrescu is a very tall person, the tallest you’ve ever seen in your life.

Alcina lights up her cigarette, holds it between her pale fingers as she places the pen into the ink bottle and closes her diary, leaving it on top the vanity. She then finally looks at you, smiling slightly. Lady Dimitrescu gets up to walk closer to you. For your surprise, she kneels down in front of you and places her forefinger under your chin, making you look into her golden eyes.

“What did you want me to do, My Lady?”

You ask nervously as she glares at you.

Lady Dimitrescu let’s out a soft chuckle which made your heart beats faster. You look at her pure white teeth framed in wine-colored lips. You feel your palms start to get sweat. The countess looks magnificent when she laughs. Her smile lines also look pretty.

You are terrified by Lady Dimitrescu but you can’t deny the fact that she’s gorgeous. The way she walks, the way she speaks. Everything about her make your heart skip a beat.

“I want you to take a day off and spend it with me, Y/N. Mind joining for a wine private party?”

She asks as she gets up, running her big hand through your hair. You shiver, gasping quietly as you look up at her. Lady Dimitrescu smiles at you, her gloved finger trails down your cheek to your neck as she stares into your eyes. You swallow so hard that she hears it and bursts into laugh.

“My, are you scared of me, little one?”

Alcina teases, her voice changes into husky low tone as she lifts your chin up with her thumb, making you look into her eyes. You shake your head, your mouth is slightly opened.

“N-No, My Lady. It’s just… so unexpected. But how about Elena? I need to help her and-“

“Elena is doing her job. There’s no need of you to join her.”

Alcina cuts you off and turns around to walk to her vanity for another cigarette. She can’t risk your life. She lights it up and sits on the chair, frowning as she puffs her cigarette. You stay there, in the middle of Lady Dimitrescu’s chamber, in complete silence that none of you want to break. You can see Alcina’s nostrils flare as she exhales the smoke through them. She pours some wine in her goblet, sighing.

Alcina is nervous around you and it’s too obvious. You’ve noticed before that Lady Dimitrescu always looks for you around the hall when other maids do their job and then pretends like she is just checking on everyone’s job. Her face expression is always calm but her voice is cold as she speaks sternly to other maids. Except you.

“My Lady, what’s the exact reason you called me here?”

You ask as you keep glaring at Alcina. She stays quiet for few more seconds before she turns around to you on her chair. She shows “come closer” gesture with her forefinger and you step toward her. She keeps looking at you with her golden sparkling eyes, tiny smile appears upon the corner of her lips. You make another step to her and now you can reach her gloved hand.

“Closer, Draga Mea. I don’t bite.”

  Lady Dimitrescu murmurs as she keeps her eyes on you.

‘Yes you do!’

You think to yourself but makes another few steps to her. She smirks, gently taking your wrist in her hand and pulls you closer on her so you can sit on her lap. You gasp to her sudden move. Alcina places her hand around your shoulder and finally takes her huge hat off, placing it aside. You’ve never seen her like this before. Her black curls lay upon her forehead and you reach your hand to her face but she slightly pulls away.

“May I?”

You ask and Alcina closes her eyes but nods. She is nervous and probably even terrified by your actions. But still she accepts it. You reach your hand to her forehead and gently brushed her hair off her face. She sighs before slowly opening her eyes to look at you. You give her a soft smile and she gives you one in return.

“My Lady?”

You ask quietly.

“Yes?”

“Why can’t I go with Elena?”

Lady Dimitrescu frowns and looks away as soon as she hears the question. She sighs, taking her goblet to take a sip of her wine and places it back on the vanity before she speaks.

“The reason is you’re new and you don’t know the outside environment, Y/N. It’s dangerous there.”

Alcina says sternly, avoiding eye contact with you.

“I’m afraid there’s no way I will let you go out there anytime soon.”

She continues.

You nod slightly, a smile appears across your lips. Does she care about you? You gently place your small hand on Alcina’s cheek, making your countess shiver. She looks down at you, her eyes sparkle as she is about to cry. After those terrible nightmares she wouldn’t let you out. Lady Dimitrescu wraps her arm around your waist, carefully pulling you closer to her chest as she looks up, holding back her tears. Her chin rests in the top of your head. You stay quiet for a while before Alcina cleans her throat. Her face is now cold and emotionless as always. She puts her hat back on her head and speaks.

“Now take your goblet, finish it and then clean the mess in the bathroom. As soon as you finish your job you may leave.”

“What about the private part-“

You ask but Alcina cuts you off once again.

“Enough talking, Y/N.”

You let out a soft chuckle and nod.

“Yes, My Lady.”

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady d #re8 #lady dimitrescu x y/n #alcina x y/n #re8 dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic

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sugarwithtea · 1 year

Text

moonlight sonata | myg [teaser]

pairing : pianist!yoongi x fem!reader

rating/genre : m (18+) // angst, smut, fluff, enemies to lovers

summary : Passion is a fickle thing. It is a feeling that drives you to success, but if lost -- you can turn as stagnant as a pond. Min Yoongi has always took pride in his passion, his skill, his art. But what happens when slowly the flame dies inside him? He returns back home, to the place where he had started to love music. But, you are there. The bane of his existence. You hate him like a sweltering flame, bigger than his passion for music. And you, are not so thrilled with the news of his return. What happens when you both inevitably cross paths and start a saga of hate and love?

word count : 978 [teaser] // TBD for the full fic (15k+)

warnings : for the teaser - none // full fic - explicit smut, use of drugs, alcoholism, mental health issues (not glorified) (all of them will be mentioned explicitly in the final piece)

note 1 : this fic is a part of the composition of the century collab hosted by @joheunsaram @raplinesmoon and @kithtaehyung !!

note 2 : this idea has been in my drafts for so long, I'm glad I'm getting the chance to finally put it out !! i hope i am able to do as well as i expected! HAPPY YOONGI DAY !! also, big thanks to @oddinary4bts and @moccahobi for helping me with this one and saving my ass !!

masterlist | taglist (permanent)

Yoongi is falling relentlessly.

He is also failing, relentlessly.

His hands slide down the keys making a sharp ping sound. They then rest on his lap, as his head hangs low and eyes burn with the tears that well up in them.

The moonlight spills into the empty auditorium as if to mock him of his upcoming days, if he goes on like this. An empty auditorium, no audience, no one who will listen to him.

He toys with the fake red ruby encrusted on the edge of the fall board, before he stands up abruptly from his seat, slings his bag over his shoulder and leaves.

He has been doing this for weeks.

He doesn't know how he got here. Not in the auditorium, that was with his Palisade parked snugly in the lot. No, it's not that. He doesn't know how he got to the point where he feels like a college student, struggling to write a composition and bleeding his tips by playing the keys for endless hours, and still not excelling or performing impressively.

It was not always like this, of course. The past five years have brought him nothing but success. He vividly remembers the first time he tapped the heels of his Chelsea boots against the sleek marble of the Juilliard and a swarm of admirers, fans, professors gathered around him.

The renowned school of music had invited him as a guest lecturer. Yoongi, a mere boy of 22, fresh out of the same school with a show stopping performance at Carnegie Hall, which was attracting the ears and eyes of people all around the world. He had clammy hands and a flushed neck as he practiced in front of his mirror in his small Brooklyn apartment.

That day, he gained a massive applause and a similarly huge following of budding musicians who looked up to him. He felt uncomfortable, out of place. As if it was not his place to gain the trust of these students, not his place to lead them when he himself didn't know where he was going, not his place to steer them in a direction when he himself looked in the eyes of his favorite professor, Mr. Castillo, to calm his nerves down. But still, he was able to do that.

And now, years later, he sees a dark fog sit upon his mind as he relentlessly tries to navigate through it.

He once thought of what he would do when he got so old that his fingers trembled when they touched the keys, when his back would hunch so he couldn't sit on the seat, when his face would be ridden with wrinkles. He came to the conclusion that at least he would still be able to write music and guide others.

Alas, he now sees himself nowhere near that Yoongi. The Yoongi he sees now is lost, unwanted, with no traces of passion and no will to move forward. He is like stagnant water, dirt and germs piling up on him. His melody is playing the same note again and again, with no chords supporting it, no tempo giving it rhythm; it sounds like a mess.

He is stuck in a happenstance – at least that's what he likes to think. Because his inner turmoil is still not bigger than his ego, and even though he is getting there, it is hard for him to swallow the thought that this is all because of him. He is not ready to accept that this is a domino effect, how one thing led to another, and now here he is.

After all these years, his brain is wired to think he can't do anything wrong. Although that is going haywire, as after years of working on himself and his self derogatory mindset, he is there again. He knows it's because of him, he just isn't ready to accept it.

Because accepting it will put him into a spiral, a dangerous spiral which will suck him in – like the eddy currents of a whirlpool, giving him no chance to escape. He knows he is weak, that's why he doesn't tread on the edge of the ledge, that's why he doesn't let things affect him. But it's high time now.

The emptiness of the auditorium has irked him, mocked him, laughed at him, made his blood boil. His fingers grip the steering wheel tighter as he changes lanes on his way home. An empty home – as empty as the auditorium.

His passion is dying, faster than the flame of a candle on a windy night. And that is concerning. Because Min Yoongi has a steadfast personality, a strong will, and a mindset to never give up. Then why is it that whenever he sits in front of the keys, his fingers refuse to move? Why is it that whenever he thinks of a melody, his fingers refuse to reciprocate it?

There was a period in his life, a few months, when he thought he was on the top of the world. The fall of a musician, and the rise of a celebrity. He didn't know the pianist in him would sleep so soundly when he embraced his public persona. Didn't know that the musician would starve when he fed his fame.

But now he knows what he needs. He needs to get back to the ground, touch his feet on the earth that gave him the platform in the first place. The place where everything started. The place where he dreamt his dream, the place where he found his first friend – a brown piano. The place which will never turn him away.

Home. His safe place. Back to his people, to the ones who never let him feel like he was a failure.

Min Yoongi is returning to Korea and there is nothing left that could change his mind.

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also, end notes : if you'd like me to tag you in the final fic -- join the taglist (which is permanent so it means you will be tagged in all my fics henceforth) or send me an ask, or reply to this post and I'll tag you in THIS FIC ONLY !! i am not making another form for moonlight sonata because it's too much of work, so it will be better if u reply to this post 🤍

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