#will i ever stop making some kind of reference to angst in things that don't need it?

[awearywritersworld]

the man who embraced wickedness and the woman he used to know

sukuna x reader summary: sukuna is reunited with the only person who ever showed him kindness w/c: 1.25k tags/warnings: heian era!sukuna. angst to fluff. fem!reader. me trying my best to channel an 1800s romance novelist a/n: part 2 to the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth. i am once again asking that people check out the artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired these two fics. they also made some artwork inspired by part one, which makes me scream and cry and yell bc it's so wonderful. masterlist

it isn't until nearly two decades after your last encounter that sukuna finally musters the courage to return to the riverside. as he listens to the rush of the water, he hates the way it makes him feel— like the scared, powerless boy he once was.

he won't get too close. instead he stands at the edge of the forest, as if he can hide from his past among the trees.

he decides he must be dreaming when he spots a woman approaching the river, because even though he can see little more than her silhouette, he has no doubt that it's you.

he'd know you anywhere, in this life and the next.

he has no idea how long he stands watching you before he finally gathers the nerve to take a step in your direction.

you look over your shoulder and meet his eye once he's only a few yards away.

the expression that crosses your features is not unlike the one you wore when you first saw him— an earnest sort of wonder.

"it's you," you state as if you've been waiting on him to appear.

"you... remember me?"

"how could i forget?"

you approach him without fear or apprehension, and having you so close after all this time makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

"are you well?" he questions, his eyes trailing down your body before flicking back up to yours. "you look it."

a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully. you rock on the heels of your feet before answering.

"i am well enough... and what of you?"

he's not sure that he's being entirely truthful when he replies, "i can say the same, i suppose."

"it pleases me to hear that you have not been suffering all this time. i must admit, i find that my thoughts still wander to you with remarkable frequency."

you laugh lightly at your own confession, fearing he may regard you as strange for it. on the other hand, he's thinking about how the sound of your laughter is the most beautiful thing he's heard since... well, since he last heard it.

"it is not rare for you to occupy the space of my own mind," he returns honestly.

you grab one of his hands, turning his palm up and running your thumb over the faint scar you find there. he hates the way it makes your face fall.

"i am sorry about that night, for what my father did to you. it was my fault for falling asleep—"

"don't," he stops you. "the fault lies only with me. i shouldn't have let him steal you away. i shouldn't have been so utterly weak—"

it's your turn to interrupt him and you press the pads of your fingers to his mouth to keep him from saying anything more.

"that is the farthest thing from the truth. you didn't deserve that. you deserved not one bit of the cruelty the village mercilessly showed you. you were only a boy, sukuna."

when your fingers fall from his lips, he doesn't try to speak. he doesn't trust that his voice won't betray him.

he can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken so familiarly, so warmly. it makes his throat feel tight.

the silence gives you an opportunity to take in the ways in which he's changed over the years.

his kimono and haori are pristine, a far cry from the rags he used to wear.

his frame is more than double the size of your own, and you know he's no longer living on scraps.

he stands tall, his posture straight and self assured, not that of someone who is feeble and frightened.

but you're not referring to any of those things when you point out, "you're different now."

and of course you're right, he just doesn't know how to tell you that the boy you used to spend your days with is gone. that the blood on his hands is no longer his own. that the person standing before you is nothing more than the monster the villagers always claimed him to be.

so he just nods in agreement and your eyes sparkle as you regard him with curiosity.

"i loved you, you know," you tell him sincerely.

your confession is painful to hear, because it reminds him of everything he lost that night.

"i could love you now, too." you reach up and caress his cheek, trying desperately to read the expression he's wearing. "if you'll let me."

for a moment, you think he might agree to your offer, but your hope is short lived.

"this... this was a mistake."

he turns to leave, intending to retreat to the shadows of the forest, but a small hand wraps around his wrist.

"no." your tone is forceful.

if only you knew what happens to most people who dare speak that word in his presence.

he doesn't say anything, so you add, "the only mistake you've made is waiting so long to come back to me."

he's surprised upon seeing the frustrated tears that well up in your eyes.

"we are but strangers to one another." his reminder stings and it shows plainly on your face. "and that is for the best, i assure you. you don't want to know me— to know the things i've done."

"i care not what you've done!" your voice is so loud, it sends a flock of birds fleeing from a nearby tree. "i care not what horrors loneliness may have driven you toward, because when we belonged to one another you were good. you were kind. you were—"

"stop." each of your words is like a knife in his chest, and his voice cracks from the ache of it.

"i will not! if your only intention was to reject me, why come here at all?"

"i don't know—"

"precisely! you want me, just as i want you. my devotion is yours, sukuna! there is no reason for you to reject that which i willingly give—"

"enough!" he barks at you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. you don't shy away from him, even in spite of the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his nose flares angrily.

"you believe that because you showed me a sliver of kindness when we were children that i should throw myself at your feet? your devotion means nothing to me! it does little more than inspire my disgust!"

the words taste like poison on his tongue, but he needs you to believe them.

he needs to believe them himself.

he pushes you away, and while it's not harshly enough to send your body flying to the grass, it does make you stumble backwards.

ire burns in your eyes and he thinks he's succeeded in his endeavor, but once he turns to leave, you're grabbing his wrist again and launching yourself against him.

your hands find his face and you pull his lips to yours despairingly. your bodies move together as if you've spent a lifetime in one another's arms.

then, he's pulling away from you. he's calling you a pathetic fool. he's looking at you with animosity.

but just as quickly, his lips find yours again and he grabs at the fabric of your kimono in an attempt to bring your body closer to his own.

you swear his hands tremble as they find a home on the curve of your hips.

once your lips part, he holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity.

resignation seems to dance across his features, but there's something else there too. desire? hope? longing?

you really can't say for certain.

"i am yours, and you are mine."

you're not sure if it's a question or a statement, so you offer him a slight nod of your head. "today and always."

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air. 

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 

Fuck them. 

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 

Fuck all of them. 

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 

That voice. 

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 

So much for time to calm himself down. 

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 

Because you looked so good. 

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 

“She does.” You corrected. 

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 

Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 

This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 

‘Or us.’ 

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 

You made a mocking face in return. 

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 9 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst (so much angst, sorry), unprotected p in v, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), cum play, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, kind of a derogatory reference to sex work, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 5.4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 9 | forever the name on my lips

“So - Robin knows that this surprise party isn’t actually a surprise, right?” you asked.

Steve laughed over the phone.

“Uh, no - she 100 percent thinks you have no clue.”

You groaned. “I’m terrible at lying to her -”

“You’re not lying - look, you should see how excited she is -”

You rolled your eyes, putting the phone down on your desk and putting him on speaker. 

“You’re an enabler, you know that?”

“I am not -”

“You so are!” you retorted. “Every year, Robin tries to make my birthday a bigger thing than it is - it’s always over-the-top, and never what I ask for. I usually just like, want to go get drinks, or watch my favorite movie at home, but she decides to invite over 40 of our closest friends instead, or pull out some trick to outdo the year before. Did you know that our first year we lived together, she almost burned our place down by putting 18 trick candles on my cake?”

“Your point being?”

You sighed, leaning over the desk closer to the mirror to put on your mascara.

“My point being that you’ve taken a monster, and given her a real budget this time.”

He laughed again, and the sound of it made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, thankful he couldn’t see you right now.

“Look, I think she’s doing this because she loves you - plus, she’s mad that I stole you away for your actual birthday, so this was my bribe.”

You sighed, stepping back to pull on your dress - another new one you had commissioned, thanks to Steve’s credit card.

“I’m going to really have to practice my surprised face,” you said sarcastically. 

You reached for your earrings on the dresser, the ones Steve had bought you for the gala. You didn’t love the idea of walking around with a million dollars on your ears, but it was a special occasion, after all.

“What has she told you you’re allegedly doing?” he asked, voice tinny and slightly muffled through the phone’s speaker.

“Just meeting some friends for dinner - but, she said to dress a little nicer than usual. I can’t believe she thinks I don’t suspect anything.”

“Maybe she does - maybe you’re both putting up a silly charade for no reason, just to spare feelings.”

You nearly scoffed, but stopped yourself - he had no clue how much you were doing that with him already.

It had been nearly a week since you and Steve had returned from your birthday getaway. Since then, you had been spiraling. Every time you thought of him, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When you were with him, it felt so right - when you were alone, you felt lonelier than you ever had before. You gave it a few days, just to see if the blissful environment of being on vacation was just tricking you into thinking  you had real feelings for Steve. After all, that wasn’t reality… right?

But now, nearly a week later, you nearly felt sick when you thought about him - the sight of him made your heart flutter, every nice gesture and sweet compliment made your stomach flip and your face bloom with heat. You were hopelessly in love - you were so stupid.

Since the trip, you and Steve hadn’t spent much time together. Part of it was him getting slammed with work - a relief, honestly. It had given you time to try and have some rational thought, and sort out your feelings. You getting your period right upon return to Rome also put a dent in things - you hadn’t exactly been feeling up to sex, which Steve had been understanding about. But, this had only made things worse - he still took you out to dinner a few days ago, insisting on still wanting to see you, if you were up for it. Afterwards, you had gone back to his place and just put on a movie, falling asleep on the couch. It was the first time you had ever slept over without having sex - somehow, more intimate than anything you had done up to that point.  In short - you were screwed. 

But, now you had to go to this godforsaken birthday party, with Steve in front of all of your friends, and act like everything was fine. In some ways, it was. But in others… the end of summer was fast approaching. And, the thought of that left a pit in your stomach.

“You still there?” Steve’s voice asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, zipping up the back of your dress. “Sorry, I’m just getting ready -”

“What are you wearing?” he asked jokingly.

“Shut up -”

“Right - that’s for later,” he said. You could practically hear him smirking through the phone. You roll your eyes again.

“Well, I’m ready to go, and I’m sure Robin is itching to get me out the door, so - see you in a bit?”

“Yes - except, you don’t know that,” he said.

“Oh of course - well, I’ll be sure to act surprised.”

“I’m sure you’ll kill it - see you, bye,” he said, promptly hanging up.

You didn’t take time to dwell on it, how formal he still could be sometimes - reminding you of exactly who you were to him, you supposed - as Robin started knocking on your door, asking if you were ready to go.

“Just a minute!” you cried. You reached for the dresser for a final thing - the ruby necklace Steve had given you for your birthday. When you opened the bedroom door to an impatient Robin in the doorway, you were clasping it on.

“Jesus - where did you get that?” she asked, gesturing to the jewel on your sternum.

“Birthday gift from Steve.”

Robin crossed her arms, shaking her head.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing, it’s just - how’s that going?”

“Fine,” you lied. “I told you, the vacation was fun -”

“Doesn’t it all just seem - like a bit too much?” she asked cautiously.

“I - what do you mean -”

“Well - the trip, the gifts, being with him for hours on the phone every night - it just feels like he’s more than a - benefactor, sugar daddy, whatever you want to call it -”

You felt your face heat.

“Robin - no - it’s just - it’s an arrangement, and it’s going the way we both said it would -”

Robin just stared at you for a moment, and sighed with defeat. 

“Whatever you say. Just - be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt again -”

“I’m fine,” you said firmly. “I promise.”

A lie.

“C’mon - let’s go out,” you said, quickly changing the subject and heading for the door.

Robin didn’t get the chance to argue further.

*****

You took the bus towards the city center, walking a few blocks before reaching one of your favorite restaurants - you and Robin frequented the bar more than the tables, often going there to celebrate the end of the semester, or to drink your sorrows away after a breakup or shitty week.

“You could have just said we were coming here,” you said, letting Robin take your hand to lead you inside.

Robin just shrugged, and you could tell she was fighting a grin - she really is terrible at keeping secrets. But, you did your best to keep your face neutral.

When you walked inside, the place was dimly lit. You could practically feel Robin’s anticipation behind you, and felt inwardly thankful that she couldn’t see your face. Then, the lights flashed on, and you were bombarded with an uproaring “SURPRISE!”

Even though you were anticipating it, you still jumped - it was far more people than you had been expecting. 

“Holy shit -”

Robin was practically bouncing, grinning. “Happy birthday, babe.”

You shook your head. “I - did you invite like, everyone we know?”

She nodded excitedly. “Mm hm! And the whole place is rented out, so it’s just us - open bar too!”

How much did this cost Steve? you wondered.

“Robin - you really didn’t have to do all this -”

“Oh hush - your boy toy took you away from me on your birthday, so we’re celebrating now.”

You laughed, pulling Robin in for a quick hug.

“Thanks, Robs.”

She was positively beaming, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve known about this for two weeks, that Steve had told you when he and Robin had been texting, how he had put his credit card down for the whole thing. So, you just smiled, and squeezed her tighter.

“Well,” she said when she pulled away, “you need a drink - your usual?”

You nodded, watching as she headed over to the bar. Soon enough, it was a whirlwind of friends, classmates, old co-workers, and essentially anyone you would even consider a friendly acquaintance swarming you, giving you a hug and wishing you happy birthday. There was even a DJ, playing all of your favorite music, the tables cleared to the sides to make the space empty enough to fit everyone - you were certain the evening would descend into dancing soon enough. Robin soon enough returned with your drink, and you let yourself actually relax. 

Then, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, and you feel yourself jump. You turn, smiling.

“Hey there, baby,” Steve said, pulling you close.

When did he start calling you that outside of the bedroom?

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joked. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“What do you think of your party?” he asked.

“I think you’ve been too good to me.”

“Well, this was all Robin - I just helped.”

“If that’s what you’re telling yourself - I - thank you,” you whispered. “You really didn’t have to.”

He waved you off. “Nonsense - I like spoiling you. You look beautiful, by the way,” he added, his fingers coming to brush the pendant hanging from your neck.

The butterflies were back. Fuck.

“Only because you give me such pretty things to wear,” you retorted.

He laughed. “I’ll buy you every pretty thing you want, baby.”

Your heart fluttered, and you looked down into your glass to avoid eye contact. 

Then, a familiar voice was calling your name. You looked up, and smiled.

“Eddie?”

“Bella, look at you!” he said, bounding over and pulling you out of Steve’s grasp and into a tight hug. You laughed, Eddie practically lifting you off of your feet.

“You’re stunning, as always -” he says once he puts you down.

“Oh, shut up - flattery will get you nowhere -”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Can’t blame a man for trying, right?”

He then glanced over your shoulder.

“Steve, right?”

Steve nodded stiffly, forcing a smile.

“You two look gorgeous - want a picture?” Eddie asked, holding up the camera hanging around his neck.

“Oh, sure - Steve?” you asked, turning to silently plead with him.

Then he was back by your side again, arm snaking around your waist and pulling you close.

“Smile!” Eddie said from where he was crouching behind the lens. You did, posing for the photo. The shutter started rapid-fire clicking, and after a moment, you felt Steve’s lips on your cheek, and your face heated. You did your best to ignore it, letting Eddie get a few more shots as you pressed closer into him.

“What a beautiful couple!” Eddie proclaimed, grinning into the viewfinder. 

“Oh - Eddie, we’re -”

“She’s doing the heavy-lifting there!” Steve joked. You froze, unsure how to even address that. But Eddie just chuckled, saying something along the lines of you didn’t need to tell me that! and walking away, making a beeline for the bar.

Before you could say anything to Steve, Robin is running over, taking you by the hands.

“Sorry Steve, can I steal her?” 

He nodded with a smile, letting go of you as Robin pulled you through the crowd, babbling on about how Vickie’s ex had the audacity to show up, and how someone brought their boyfriend uninvited, and a hundred other things you would normally care about.

Steve hadn’t said no when Eddie called you a couple - what the fuck?

But, the next few hours were a whirlwind - you had lost count of how many drinks you had, catching up with friends you hadn’t seen all summer, learning who's dating who, what their plans were for the upcoming semester, asking how you’re doing - you decidedly did not mention that you had spent all summer as the mistress of a man a decade older than you - still, it felt nice to see your friends again, to catch up and try to relax. You ate your fill in the food spread that had been put out, all of your favorite things from the menu, a few extra things that Robin must have requested specially. So many of your friends remarked on how well you looked, how you were glowing, admiring your jewelry and asking where you got it (which, you pointedly lied about). Even Jonathan Byers showed up, the sweet yet introverted guy who you had befriended in one of your art courses. You were chatting with him and Eddie about their upcoming photography portfolios when you saw Steve again, approaching with a new drink for you.

“Oh, hey,” you said, accepting it gratefully.

“Having fun?” Steve asked, casting a glance to your friends.

“Yeah! Uh, Steve, you know Eddie, and this is Jonathan - not sure if you two met yet.”

“Nice to meet you,” Steve said, extending his hand. Jonathan hesitated, then took it, letting Steve shake it firmly.

Then, Steve’s lips pressed to your ear, whispering, “Want to dance?”

You bit your lip, nodding, and bid farewell to the other boys for now. The makeshift dance floor was starting to fill up now, your friends moving along to the music and spilling drinks onto the floor. 

“So, does Eddie know how to button a shirt?” Steve asked sarcastically.

You huffed.

“Don’t tell me you’re still jealous -”

“I - I’m not. He’s just - he’s such a flirt -”

‘He’s a flirt with everyone - he’d shoot his shot with you, if I left you two alone.”

Steve’s face turned red at that. 

“I - uh -”

“Besides,” you whispered, pulling him closer by his shirt collar, admiring the way his chest hair just barely peeked out of the open top button, “I kind of like how easily he gets you riled up.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the music.

“When was the last time you did something like this?” you asked over the cacophony, gesturing to the club-like atmosphere around you. He laughed.

“I’m not that old - but, probably not since a little after I finished college… when I started working, I didn’t really have the energy for… all of this. And… Nancy never liked it much anyway.”

You felt your heart sink, and shook your head. You were properly tipsy, had the confidence to pull Steve toward you, taking his hands in yours. 

“Then - dance with me like you’re 20 again, yeah?”

“Again, I’m not old -”

“Will you just shut up and dance?” you said, pulling him close. He obliged, letting you bury your face into his neck as you swayed along to the music.

He twirled you, watched on fondly as you found your friends on the dance floor, and laughed as he saw how excited each new song made you. At one point, you caught him looking at you in the corner of your eye - he wore an expression so soft, so sincere, that he was almost unrecognizable.

“What is it?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing - I just -”

“Where’s the birthday girl?” Robin’s voice called from the other end of the room. The music faded, and she came out from behind the bar with a massive cake, lit with what you guessed were probably 21 candles.

“Everyone! 1 - 2 - 3-”

Then everyone was singing you Happy Birthday, pushing you towards the front to where Robin stood, wearing a wide smile. 

“Make a wish,” she whispered.

You sighed, knowing exactly what to wish for, and leaned down to blow out the candles to boisterous applause.

“Chocolate cake with mousse, of course - your favorite,” Robin said, serving you the first slice.

“I’d expect nothing less,” you replied, accepting it gratefully - it’s been the kind of cake you’ve gotten for every birthday for as long as you remembered. Even your parents remembered that each year, to their credit.

“Want a slice?” you asked, turning to Steve.

“Oh - no, I’m okay -”

“At least taste a bite?”

He sighed, smiling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay.”

You took a forkful and held it out to him, feeding it into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, fighting a smile.

“Yeah, okay - that’s delicious -”

“I told you -”

Then Steve reached out, gently wiping away what you presumed was some smeared chocolate from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Did you have a nice birthday party?” he asked softly.

“Yeah - I did. Just - everything for my birthday was wonderful. I - thank you.”

Then he was pulling you close and kissing you, on the lips, in front of everyone. You let your eyes flutter shut and leaned into the kiss, tasting just a bit of chocolate on his lips, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.

You pulled away, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged.

“I just really wanted to do that - is that okay?”

You nodded, eyes flitting to his lips again as your stomach did a somersault. You were so aware of eyes on you two, some whispers floating through the room despite the loud music, but you pulled him down for another kiss again, lacing your hands around the back of his neck.

“Take me home with you,” you whispered against his lips.

“Now?”

“Now.”

Then he was grabbing your hand, only slowing down as you bid goodbye to Robin, thanking her for the party, and you both practically bolted towards the door.

*****

It was nearly midnight by the time you reached Steve’s place - not that it mattered. You had jumped him nearly the second you got in the car he had called, closing the privacy shield between yourselves and the driver. You technically behaved yourselves - clothes stayed on, at least. But you kissed him like you needed him more than oxygen, all tongue and desperate gasps as you moved to straddle his lap in the backseat. You were grinding on his thigh, palming him through his pants like horny teenagers in their mom’s old Honda. 

You tore out of the car like bats out of Hell when you reached his apartment building, only maintaining self-control in the elevator thanks to the old man who got on with you and rode it most of the way. The moment you tumbled through Steve’s door, you were all over each other, shedding clothes in a trail leading to the bedroom.

“I missed this,” you breathed against his mouth, shedding him of his button-down.

“Me too,” he said, reaching to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor.

“Steve - I want to thank you - for my birthday party - for everything -”

“Mm, okay - yeah baby, whatever you want -”

It was desperate, messy, and filled with carnal need, Steve tearing your undergarments off as he practically threw you onto the bed. He wasted no time, eating you out like your pussy gave him oxygen, making you cum on his tongue twice before even taking his pants off. You pulled on his hair, crying out his name as he coaxed your orgasms out of you, slowly kissing his way back up your body until his face hovered above yours. He was grinning, his chin glistening with your release, and you could have just stared at that forever.

“Steve, please -” you begged, “I need you -”

“I know, baby,” he said, crawling over you. “I just wanted to take care of you first, it’s okay -”

Then he was kissing you, fumbling with his belt and shedding himself of his boxers, pulling you close.

It had only been a week, but you nearly screamed when he entered you, gasping at the stretch.

“Fuck - you’re always so tight and perfect, baby - I haven’t fucked you since we got back to the city, it was drivin’ me nuts -”

“Me too,” you mewled, clawing at his back as he began to thrust into you. “Steve - please fuck me, please -”

And he did. But, the earlier desperation had faded - he rolled his hips into yours slowly, holding you close as he groaned into your skin. He pressed kisses to your neck, showering you with praises and sweet nothings in your ear. It didn’t feel like primal, needy sex - it almost felt like making love. He was soft, gentle, but knew your body better than anyone by now, touching you in all the right places.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect -” he murmured, smirking as you moaned at a particularly deep thrust, “my whole life, I’ve been looking for a pussy like yours, baby -”

“I - ah! Fuck, I - I know what you mean. You fuck me like nobody else - daddy, I -”

“I know, baby,” he said, pressing gentle kisses across your face. “Look at you, wearin’ the fuckin’ jewelry I bought you as I fuck you - I love when you do that - you’ve been so good, letting me spoil you all summer - like a good girl, I can’t believe it -”

He was rambling now, and you knew that meant he was close. You wrapped your legs around his torso, digging your heels into his back to pull him in impossibly deeper. Pleasure pulsed through your body, heat gathering in your abdomen, and you started meeting his thrusts with your hips in earnest.

“You close?” he asked. 

“Yes - I’m going to cum all over your cock, sir -”

“Thank god - I’m not going to last much longer -”

“I know - let go,” you said, pulling him down for a messy kiss. He groaned against your lips, his cock twitching a bit inside you.

“I just wanna stay buried in this pussy, baby - forever -”

“I know,” you whispered. “I never want this to end.”

You never wanted any of it to end. 

But you held onto him with desperation, losing yourself in the feel of him, his scent, the sound of his voice -

All that was running through your mind was I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIlo-

Then you were coming, convulsing around him with a scream. You arched off of the mattress, burying your face in his shoulder as your orgasm washed over you in waves, ebbing and flowing gently instead of crashing all at once. He followed moments later, hips stuttering as he filled you, your name on his lips like it was a sacred thing.

You both stayed like that for a while - you stared at the ceiling, soothingly running your fingers through his hair as he lazily kissed your neck. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually he began to soften, forcing him to pull out of you and roll over onto your back by your side. 

You turned your head on the pillow to face him - he was blissed out, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I think that was our best yet,” he whispered. 

You hummed in agreement - you had felt it the night of your birthday in the villa, too - something had shifted in bed. Yyou couldn’t quite place it. But, you knew it scared the hell out of you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing the backs of his fingers along your arm.

“Mm, yeah - just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow. “What’s going on in that pretty little mind?”

You could’ve cried from the gentleness in his voice, your heart fluttering a bit as you looked at him - you did your best to memorize his face, the way his hair fell, every freckle and mole along his body - and it hit you that this was ending soon. You didn’t even realize you had started to cry - but, hot tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

“Whoa - you okay? What’s going on?” he asked - he sounded terrified.

“It’s nothing - don’t worry about it -” you said, sitting up.

“Baby, you’re crying - of course I’m going to be worried -”

“Why?” you cried, the question coming out harsher than you had intended.

His face flashed with confusion and concern, and he sat up, too.

“What do you mean why?”

“Because - because you’re not supposed to care!”

“I - I don’t understand -”

“Steve! What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We - we were having a nice night, I thought - now I don’t -”

You wiped your tears, groaning with frustration.

“Steve - I don’t know how to be around you. You said this was just for sex, right? All fun, no feelings, all that bullshit? We literally wrote it down -”

His face went more neutral, and he nodded.

“Well, yes - that was the arrangement -”

“So then you don’t get to ask me what’s wrong - you don’t get to ask me how my day was, plan my birthday party with my best friend, call me nearly every night, name a goddamn star after me -”

“Whoa - you don’t like that I did those things?”

“No!” you screamed, frustrated. “I don’t like that you’re being my boyfriend!”

“I - I’m not your boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’ve made that very clear - so you can stop acting like it!”

You didn’t realize how loud your voice had gotten, your breakdown quickly pivoting to unbridled anger and frustration.

“I’m not - so what, you want me to fuck you and just send you home? Like a goddamn prostitute?”

“Well maybe if you had done that in the first place you would’ve saved yourself a whole lot of trouble!” you screamed.

He went silent for a moment, just staring at you. You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Steve, look - this summer - I mean, it’s been amazing. I really mean that. But, the summer is ending soon - when do you even go back to the States?”

“September 1st,” he said quietly.

You froze, your heart plummeting. “Jesus Christ, that’s in like two weeks - when were you going to tell me?”

He stared down at his hands, shaking his head.

“I - I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you - I just wanted you to enjoy tonight, and not ruin it, I know it sounds ridiculous, but I figured if I didn’t tell you, it would make it less real -”

“So you were just going to disappear on me?”

“No! No - I -”

He throws his head into his hands.

“Steve - look me in the eyes and tell me this is still just an arrangement for you.”

A moment of silence passes - there it was, your cards laid on the table. Your heart was thudding in your chest, waiting for his answer.

He sighed, and looked over to meet your gaze. 

“Of course it isn’t.”

Your stomach flipped, and you felt like you were going to be sick - oh God -

“Then - what the fuck do we do?”

He shook his head.

“I - I don’t know,” he admitted. “I - I don’t know what the fuck is even going on. I told myself I wouldn’t get… attached, and now -”

You scoffed.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just - attached? Like a fucking dog you found on the street and have to give back to its owners or something?”

“Well, what would you call it?”

You paused - you considered confessing everything, that you were past the point of falling for him. No, you couldn’t - you needed to keep that close to your chest, not give him the upper hand.

“Steve - maybe we should just end this,” you said, the words feeling like a knife to the chest as they left your mouth.

“What? No - I - I don’t want to -”

“Steve - you said it yourself - if we got any personal feelings, we would stop the whole thing, before it got too far - we’re only delaying the inevitable anyway -”

“Come back with me,” he blurted out.

You stop mid-sentence, eyes widening.

“I - what?”

“Come back to Chicago with me - we can just do it. I can take care of you -”

“Steve - I can’t -”

“Why not?”

You just laughed dryly.

“Because - I have a life here. I have friends, a semester left before I get my degree -”

“You won’t need to work if you -”

“You really don’t get it, do you? I want to finish school, actually achieve something, and do something that matters to me. I know, you look down on me as some downtrodden peasant or something -”

“No, that’s not it -”

“But I’m smart, and when I’m done with school - I may not be rich like you, but I’ll be able to work for a living, and actually support myself. I don’t want to just exist for you -”

“I didn’t mean that,” he said - you were both raising your voices again. “This summer…it’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe ever, actually. I just - I want to help you -”

“Well stop! I don’t need you!” you screamed.

He went silent for a moment.

“That’s what Nancy said, too,” he said quietly.

You sighed, your heart breaking for him.

“Steve - I didn’t know -”

“Maybe there’s a reason,” he continued, staring down to avoid your gaze. “I mean - you’re right - I’m meant to be alone.”

“I never said that -”

“You didn’t have to.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, unable to say anything else.

“Steve - I’m sorry that this is where the night went. But… we both knew this was coming. I - I think we’re going to both get hurt if we try to keep it going.”

He nodded, shoulders sagging.

“You’re probably right.”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading. 

The silence was deafening - neither of you daring to look at one another, letting the weight sink in of everything just said. You were certain you were going to be sick. 

“I - I should probably give these back,” you said quietly, gesturing to the earrings and necklace. You reached up to take them off, but he gently placed his hand on yours to stop you.

“No - keep it. Keep everything.”

“Steve -”

“No - nothing that I gave you was a loan. It’s yours. Keep onto the credit card, too.”

“Steve - I can’t do that -”

“Sure you can. Only use it for emergencies, if it makes you feel better to do that. As long as you don’t go over the limit… it’s yours.”

You shook your head.

“I can’t -”

“Please,” he said, eyes pleading. “At least until you’re done with school - focus on your studies, I’ll take care of it.”

“But - I’m not giving you anything in return -”

“Doesn’t matter. I promised to help you with school, and - I’m a man of my word.”

You sighed with defeat.

“I - I think I should go.”

“Probably best,” he said coldly. You couldn’t even blame him for that.

You gathered your things quickly, pulling your dress back on. He rose to follow you to the door, pulling on his boxers as he went. He stood in the doorway as you left, his face stoic - was he angry? Or did he just feel nothing? Maybe the latter - you were in love… and he had grown attached, whatever that meant.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you whispered.

“I suppose so.”

He won’t look at you.

“Steve - you’re going to find someone someday who’s right for you, okay? Someone you’ll actually want to be with. Then you won’t need - you won’t need someone like me. You’ll forget all about this - I know you will.”

Something softened in his face, and he shook his head.

“I somehow doubt that.”

You stared down at the ground.

“I guess this is goodbye,” you murmured.

He nodded.

“I wouldn’t change any of it,” he said quietly.

You could actually feel your heart breaking, crackling and splitting like it was made of porcelain. You still avoided eye contact, afraid you’d cry if you looked at him.

“My car can take you home,” he added.  “I don’t want you taking the bus this late, okay?”

You nodded solemnly. As you turned to leave, he said one more thing that stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait - I just wanted to say -”

He stopped for a moment, running his hand through his hair as he took a deep breath.

“I wish you well.”

That was it - the final nail in the coffin. The end of a failed negotiation, a transaction. You nodded firmly, turning quickly on your heels and walking straight ahead to the elevator, refusing to look back at him.

The moment you slid into the car, you gave the driver your address and closed the privacy shield again. But now, it was so you could sob into your hands, feeling your heart break in half as you pulled away from his apartment for the last time.

author's note: hi everyone - sorry about this chapter. The next part will be the finale - plus, an epilogue. I'll probably just write those together and post them in quick succession. Don't panic - you guys know I don't like writing sad endings (or if I do, I leave massive warnings). So, hang tight - it's going to be okay. Please let me know your thoughts - comments, reblogs, and messages are always appreciated!

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

hiii could you do more of Baby!Seonghwa pls?? I loved it and i can’t stop thinking about it since i’ve read it, amazing work btw thanks <3

Medicine

❥Yandere Park Seonghwa x fem reader

➯a/n: this is a work of fiction and does NOT represent a healthy little and caregiver relationship, or a healthy relationship of any kind. i'm back at it with my mommy hwa shenanigans while tweaking with the shells plot line mwahaha

takes place before Baby (you don't have to read to understand but it gives this some extra spice)

✃ "I'd burn alive just for the soft light on your face." -Paper Doll, Flower Face

✫彡wordcount: 3k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ)(¯ ³¯)♡genre: yandere, angst, hurt & comfort

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: stockholm syndrome, periods and period blood(non descriptive), everyone is morally grey, non sexual nudity, references to sh and violence(not towards reader), it's fair to say seonghwa is a murderer lol, jongho and baby bff agenda as hinted at in the first part, more exploration of how the members are affected, one mention of sewer slide, mingi needs a hug fr, not proof read

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

✩index: little space; a regressed state of mind where one feels like a child. hyung; a name for an older male friend or sibling, used by other males.

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

  Seonghwa was certain that he could handle anything you threw his way after five months of being his captive in his care.

      He knew you well, better than he knew himself most days. Even before he had 'taken you home', he tried to learn everything about you to make the transition easier. Some things though- were impossible to know.

     You hadn't gotten your period since before your 'big move', as he called it. He read up on all things womanly to be better prepared so he knew that stress could cause you to skip it. And it did for a long while. Now, though, you were starting to settle in.

     He knew they were painful. But nothing prepared him for the heartbreak when he saw you in the state you were in now.

     He had just gone downstairs to get the mail, but that was apparently all the time it took for you to lock yourself in the bathroom.

     "I don't know what happened, Hyung!" Mingi was just as panicked as Seonghwa at the moment, he felt responsible for whatever was happening behind the locked bathroom door. What if you had gotten into their razors? It would be all his fault... His Hyung trusted him with his Baby and she dashed away before he could even register it.

     Everyone saw the shift in you the past few days, moody and hungry and tired. One of the managers even had the nerve to ask if you could be pregnant. As if Hwa would ever let you skip your birth control.

    "She just ran off! Everything was fine," Mingi continued as he jiggled the knob relentlessly, slapping his palm on the wood while calling out.

     His voice was so loud in Seonghwa's mind. He was so overwhelmed. Scared. Full of rage.

    And then they heard the shower turn on.

    At least he knew you were alive in there.

    "Baby?" He pushed his younger member out of the way and knocked on the door much gentler. "You know you can't take baths alone. Open the door and let me help you."

     There was no response.

    "Now, Baby."

    Only the sound of the water hitting linoleum tiles.

   "Don't make me count to three."

    Mingi backed up at that. He hated when he counted just as much as you did.

    But he didn't have to count, when he heard the tiniest sniff from over the pelting water his body reacted for him. His shoulder came in contact with the door and in the next second he had broken through the frame of the door.

    Mingi looked on in shock, eyes fixed on the metal lock on the door which was still stuck out in place. They followed to the doorframe, splintered open. Then they fell to you, curled up naked on the bathroom floor under the raining water. He looked away at that, turning and crouching down to pick up the broken pieces of wood to busy himself until he knew you were okay enough to leave you in Seonghwas care alone.

      Seonghwa had kneeled next to you, uncaring as the water soaked the knees on his pants. Even more uncaring as he leaned over your face, blocking the water with the back of his head and soaking the collar of his shirt and his hair. The scorching water dripped from his hair to your face as he cupped it in his hands, inspecting you for any damage on the surface.

"Baby, my baby, what's wrong?" The pain in his voice was just as present as the pain in your face. Wound tight like your eyebrows as you winced.

"H-hurts." Was all you could manage, groaning as he untucked your arms from around you to inspect you further. You were fine on the surface.

"Hyung..." His head snapped back to Mingi, who held out your shorts pinched between his fingers, touching them as little as possible. There was a dark spot on them, red and angry as it stained the pattern.

He looked down slowly, eyes meeting the drain as it sucked up the pink tinted water.

ఌ

It took all the convincing in the world from Seonghwas part that for you to remember that you weren't dying. That this happened to big girls every month. Eventually he managed to dry you off after letting the water sooth you for a while and set you up with a pad from the box he's had under the sink since he brought you home.

But then again, some things he couldn't have been prepared for. You told him your periods weren't just painful, they were debilitating. He wished he would have asked you before hand to be more prepared- but now he knows better for next time!

He set you up on the couch with a sock full of uncooked rice that he'd heated up placed on your stomach while he did frantic research on his phone. He peeked back and when he saw you were fast asleep, tuckered out from fighting the pain, he made a beeline downstairs- not even bothering to wait for the elevator and essentially jumping down the stairs.

     He barged right into Yunho and Yeosangs dorm, making a mental note to scold them for not locking the door later on. But for now he was on a mission for his baby.

    "Hello, Yeosang," he greeted briefly as he barged into the room as well, going straight to his shelf of supplements and vitamins. He could only stare dumbfounded as he scooped up what he needed and left. "Bye, Yeosang."

"Hello, Yunho." He spoke as he passed him in their kitchen. He raided the pantry and left with a simple, "Bye, Yunho." The both of them looked on in confusion as their Hyung left the dorm, not bothering to even shut the door.

     "Yah, that's ours!"

    Yunhos yell when unheard -or rather uncared for- as he was out the door just as fast as he came, desperately rushing down the hall as they looked on.

ఌ

That was how everyone ended up in the top story dorm, watching in confusion and anxiety as Seonghwa sat down his stolen goods on the coffee table infront of the couch, careful not to wake you. He went to walk off, and Wooyoung opened his mouth, "is she o-"

      "Shh!" The eldest shushed harshly, shutting him up as he sped walked away.

      "Hey, thats mine!" Another victim of Seonghwas thievery followed his Hyung with a sleepy grimace, blinking confusedly at the scene in the living room.

They had all seen some strange behavior from their eldest member, especially through the past nine months that lead up to this. The day you met was like a switch flipped in his imbalanced mind.

They hated you for that. Or rather, hated the idea of you. Every one of their moral compasses was spun in a complete three sixty when their Hyung kidnapped you those five months ago. He wasn't the same. For the good or bad, you changed Seonghwas live, all of their lives-

For bad, you had been the reason that Hongjoong had to pick dirt from under his nails after covering up one of his best friends sins. You were the reason Mingi had to take a three week hiatus to cover recover from the bruises from when he made eye contact with you. You were the reason that a quarter of their staff had to be paid off when the word spread, just to keep everything from going public.

But then- you were the reason that Seonghwa had started smiling again. The reason he tossed his blades into the river. You were the inspiration to eight different songs in only these few months, one of which was a major break through for them. Your childlike attitude beamed through the apartments.

You brought a certain light to their lives, one that was emitted from the fires of Hell.

They promised themselves they'd be indifferent to you, to not get involved as much as possible for the sake of their own sanity and morals. And yet, here they are.

Gathered in the living room with heavy hearts as they looked over you, silently begging for Seonghwa or Mingi to tell them what was wrong with you.

"Hyung..." Jongho spoke as softly as he could, his eyes couldn't help but fixate on the way you held yourself like you wanted to disappear. "What did you do to her?"

He, out of everyone, was most worried.

He hated this situation just as much as the others. Hell, he was still fighting himself every day to turn his Hyung in- even if their entire worlds would come crashing down. Because he hated to see you in pain. An innocent person suffering because he was too cowardly.

You were attached to the hip the second that Seonghwa let you out of his room. You dashed for the scariest looking member... because he was less scary than the man who snatched you up, who you thought you could trust. You hid behind his arms as everyone else looked on, simply staring in the disbelief of what their once trusted and kind member had done.

Hongjoong was in the same boat, just as troubled as Jongho was with the entirety of what had become their lives. He prided himself in the fact that he was a good person, through and through. He did good deeds when no body was looking, simply because it spread good feelings. All he ever wanted to put in the world was positivity. But when he saw the tears that his best friend caused, his heart made him simply look the other way. You didn't like Hongjoong much. His picture in Seonghwas room taunted you, made you resent him for being so obviously close to the source of all your pain. But he didn't treat you any different for it.

"Park Seonghwa, you promised you wouldn't hurt her like that," Hongjoong sneered through his teeth, ready to grab his only Hyung by the ear when he heard a small grumble from the couch.

You blinked. Once, twice.

And then you broke into a waterfall of hot tears.

"Hey, Baby it's okay," Seonghwa tried to soothe you, only to be pushed flat away from you as Jongho came and took his seat infront of the couch where you were situated.

"Hi, little bear," he cooed, taking you into his arms immediately when you weakly opened yours. He moved slowly as he sat on the couch with you in his lap, but slowly wasn't slow enough to stop the aches from pulsing through your veins on what felt like a molecular level.

It was Wooyoungs turn now to feel brave and stand up to Hwa- well, stand over him as he watched his baby with tears of his own welling up. "She's never cried this hard, what did you do?"

"Baby-"

He was pushed back down as he reached for you, a begging pout on his lips as Yeosang held him down by his shoulders.

He didn't know what had changed in his members but he knew it was shit timing. You needed comfort and calm, not to see your caregiver held down and restrained from you.

A pink sock hit Yeosangs head and he looked up with soft shock written on his features as he met your eyes. You immediately looked down, you still weren't allowed to look them in the eyes and you most definitely didn't want a punishment ontop of natures own. "Don't hurt my Mommy..."

"Honey, did your Mommy do this to you?" Yunho asked as he bent to your level.

You simply shook your head. Were they really fighting over your well-being? Why didn't they do that months ago when this whole fiasco started? You blinked away the thought as another teeth gritting cramp hit you. You hid in Jonghos sweater, trying to quiet down your sobs.

It wasn't all for naught though, as you could hear Mingi finally speaking up when he returned from the kitchen, a baby bottle of juice in hand that he sat down with Seonghwas thieved goodies. "She got her period..." Some of them immediately started cooing over you, and while you couldn't tell who with your head trying to burrow its way into Jongho to hide, it still made your ears feel hot with embarrassment.

"Oh, poor baby," San was the first one to speak, plugging in the heating pad he was robbed of minutes early with zero hesitation, gently draping it over your lower back.

"Get off me," Seonghwa finally snapped and pushed Yeosang and Wooyoung away, crawling on his knees to the couch. "Baby, I've got some stuff to help you but you'll have to come off Jongho, okay?"

You had a hint of defiance in your pain filled eyes as you peeked from the plush sweater you were hidden in. "No, big bear," you put on the cutes and hugged Jonghos neck tighter.

"I know big bear is comfortable," he bit his tongue as he looked at the way you so willingly curled into his youngest members lap for comfort that he should be providing, "but give me five minutes, I need to take care of you."

"Come on, little bear," Jongho sat up as careful as possible, ignoring the tug on his heart as you whined. He cared for you, of course. But he feared Seonghwa more.

Wooyoung couldn't bear to watch anymore, taking San's hand and disappearing down the hall. He used to look up to Seonghwa, now he could barely look in his eyes.

Mingi followed their lead, he wanted to be strong and comfort you, but he simply couldn't handle another second of seeing you reduced to tears. He'd never watch you cry again. His heart couldn't take it. Maybe that made him a coward of a man, but he didn't care at the moment.

That left Hongjoong sat across the coffee table with Yunho, Yeosang lowering himself into the armchair, and Seonghwa on his knees infront of you as you clung to Jonghos neck.

   "Good..." He was certain there was blood filling his mouth from the way he bit down on his tongue. "I didn't want to leave you so these will do for now until I order your own, right?" It was rhetorical-was it? It's not like you had a choice in the matter. But he was so kind that it made your brain foggy. Like he really cared of your opinion for a moment.

    "Magnesium, zinc, and vitamin d," he explained as he took one from each of the bottles. "More vitamin d," he sat the bottle of juice next to your legs. "And comfort," he drug the basket of sweets that he used as rewards for good behavior to the edge of the table and let you take a peek, seeing the new and unfamiliar chocolates on top.

Intrigued by the fancy looking wrapper, you reached out. Seonghwa only put the medicine in your hand. "Medicine first, Baby. Then you can have all you want from the basket."

Seonghwa was a lot of things but he wasn't a liar, never to you.

So, you sucked it up and took the medicine.

ఌ

Later that night, everyone besides Hongjoong and Jongho had returned home (save for the three that actually lived in the apartment with you). Mingi didn't exit his room, not even for dinner. San came and joined movie night after Wooyoung left.

The movie long ended, leaving everyone in the room dead asleep besides Seonghwa. How could he sleep at a moment like this? His Baby could wake up at any moment and need him.

So, he just sat and watched over the most important people in his life. His best friend, laid on the couch with his head on the opposite end as you, curled into a ball with nothing but a stuffed monkey to keep him company. His youngest member, laid on the floor with a pillow to his chest. And San, he was-

"Hyung?"

He was awake. Seonghwa perked up a bit, blinking away that familiar look in his eyes before he turned to the armchair where San was draped in a strange position. "Hyung, you should go to sleep..."

Both their eyes drifted to you, sound asleep. He'd either have to curl up behind you on the couch with Hongjoong or move you to your shared bed.

"You know..." San sighed, almost silently. "I hate you for what you did to her. For what got us here. But I would be lying if I said you didnt take good care of her. You love her, don't you?"

"I love her more than life." It was a declaration that was as easy as breathing. Though he'd never said it out loud to anyone other than you. Until now. Seeing you like that... "I love her. I never want her to be in pain like that, you don't understand, San. I was ready to kill myself if she was dying."

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"I'm serious."

The look in his eyes told him he was was. He would never joke when it came to you. He was always dead serious. He would rather not be in this world at all than be in it without you. "I know you don't understand, I'm not asking you to. But I had to do what I did. I had to do it. I had to."

"I know." And he did. San knew that, by all means Seonghwa didn't have to do what he did. He didn't have to kidnap you and keep you imprisoned in their dorm and buy people off to keep their mouth shut. But Seonghwa thought that he did. His mind had convinced him, and there was no turning back.

That first night, when they found you tied to his bed, that was all he could say. I had to. I had to. I had to. With his head tucked between his knees like a scolded child defending themselves- although everyone was too shell shocked to even say a word until Wooyoung broke the silence with a simple, 'what the fuck.' I had to. I had to. I had to.

"Do you?"

San licked his lips, took a deep breath, and rolled around to face the back of the arm chair. "I know you, Park Seonghwa. And you did what you believed was necessary. I can never agree with your reasoning... but I'll never fight you on it. Take your baby and go to bed. We're all tired."

Seonghwa couldn't see them, but there was fat tears rolling down San's face. He hadnt cried over this. But something had finally faded away and let him. He never referred to you as that. He liked to think you'd enjoy being separate from the life that Seonghwa had built for you. Not that you could notice most of the time, forced so deep into little space that your head felt light and fluffy like a bag of cotton candy.

    He must have finally come to terms with the fact that this was reality.

     "C'mon, baby girl," he heard him whisper, followed by a small groan as you were picked up. He waited until he heard Seonghwas door click. And he let all his tears free fall.

    Seonghwa set your tired form down on your side of the bed, crawling in after you while trying to push away that itch in his brain that was screaming that he forgot your nightly routine. He tucked that little voice away and settled in bed, bringing the soft comforter over you both and melting into his pillow with a sigh.

    He gathered you close as gently as possible and rubbed your back, staring up at the ceiling and listening closely to your breathes as they evened out to quiet snores.

      A smile played at his lips.

    For a moment he felt like everything would be okay. You had your medicine-

He felt you curl closer to his warmth, and he brought his finger tips up to brush your loose hairs back with a tenderness reserved only for you.

-And he had his.

ఌ

[melminli]

My Girl

pairing: maki zen'in x fem. reader

summery - being in love with your best friend can be difficult sometimes, maybe even more when you're both girls.

word count: 1.8k

contains: wlw, grumpy black cat x happy golden retriever trope, fluff, angst, internalized homophobia, comfort, modern au

She had been an outsider since the day she was born. Someone who didn't belong, someone who didn't conform to the norm. Her family made her feel that way since the day she was born, and so she grew up in a pretty pessimistic world. She got used to her situation. Well, she kinda had to. It wasn't a hard pill to swallow since she didn't know any different and was used to dealing with the situation. Her parents might rather have one strong boy than two weak girls, and she might rather have other parents. Guess not everyone can have what they want.

Maki watched you with a longing look while you were fooling around with inumaki at some store window a little further away. You smiled as you excitedly pointed your finger at various objects and pulled the arm of the boy next to you to draw his attention abruptly to something else every now and then.

After a while, she turned her eyes away from you in shame, having been watching your figure a little too closely and paying a little too much attention to your various facial expressions.

You were a new reason for Maki to feel like an outsider in this world, and this time, it scared her a little because it wasn't the situation she was used to. If she knew that I think about her like that, it would certainly make her sad. She thought to herself and then sighed. I should just not think about her, maybe not think at all.

"They spend a lot of time in front of that store, I'm afraid we won't be able to get them out once they go in." Yuuta laughed next to her while scratching his head a little worriedly. His eyes then wandered to the sign again. "I didn't realize those two were so into this sanrio stuff."

Maki looked at him out of the corner of her eye before adjusting her glasses. "She's liked sweet stuff ever since I've known her, whether it's stuffed animals or food. Inumaki says it's not really his thing, and he just doesn't mind going along with her, but I think he secretly likes all that stuff, too."

Yeah, from Yuuta's observations, that explanation seemed accurate. "That stuff doesn't really seem to be your thing, though, and yet you didn't object when she said she wanted to visit this store. If it's one of us who asks you to hang out, you're never in the mood." He playfully referred to himself and the other boys.

She shrugged her shoulders uninterestedly. "That's because I don't like you guys. Don't want to waste my time." Maki said without hesitation and sent an arrow into Yuuta's heart. "Although well, I guess you're not entirely wrong. Sweet stuff isn't really my thing. But that's okay, I don't mind. We sometimes do things I like as well."

Yuuta recovered and raised an eyebrow with interest. "Yeah? Like what?"

The time a few weeks ago were you two were at the movies together came to her mind. "We watched a horror movie a while ago." She said, grinning slightly at the memory.

The boy looked a little irritated. He knew that you were quite the scaredy cat, especially when it came to jumpscares. "Really? That doesn't sound like her."

Maki shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, I was surprised too when she offered to go with me after mentioning that I wanted to see it." She admitted. "It was kind of cute though, she hardly dared to take her hands off her face. I don't know what made her do that to herself. Really can't figure out what's going on in her head sometimes."

Yuuta had to stop himself from sighing. It's so obvious, though. "Yeah, it really is a great mystery....I also want to emphasize again that I think it's really mean of you how you prefer her to all of us." The boy pouted slightly. I mean, I understand why, but she still doesn't have to say it like that.

"It's different with her." She said directly as her eyes turned back to your figure, who finally decided to storm into the store and waved excitedly to her to signal it. "...she's my best friend."

The black-haired boy looked somewhat doubtful at his friend, who made her way over to you. "...sure." He said with narrowed eyes and followed her. Me when I'm lying.

Green eyes looked down at the small plush toy pendant in her hand and stroked her finger through the fabric. What was the name of that thing again...was it Kuromi? Maki asked herself inwardly, not knowing exactly what kind of animal it was supposed to represent as she inspected it from different angles. It doesn't matter, you bought it for her the other day from this store you went to. She didn't remember what yours was called, but you had the pink version or whatever.

"Hey Maki, are you ready to go? Sorry if you had to wait a while, Jun was holding me up a bit. I mean, I swear to god she's really cute but also so pushy sometimes." You sighed and set off as she got up from her seat on the bench. It had become routine for the two of you to go to the café near the school building every Tuesday since you both got out early and liked to go for drinks together.

"That's all right. You always write me a hundred messages if you're being really late." She teased you and knew that it always secretly bothered you that you were always runnung somewhat late since you just didn't really have a good sense of time.

You avoided her gaze. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." You just replied and stopped on the sidewalk when you both reached the red light.

Maki didn't even try to stifle her grin. "So, which one was Jun again?" She asked you because she couldn't always put a name to the stories you told her.

"She's the one who always asks me what kind of guys I like so she can link me to one of her friends." You said a little annoyed at the memory and walked across the intersection as the light changed to green. "I don't know what her problem is, to be honest, like how about just someone who's halfway a decent person, huh? From what she told me about her boyfriend, I doubt she knows anyone like that."

Maki just looked to the side a little uncomfortably at the subject. I shouldn't have asked, ugh. She didn't like being reminded of how you could probably have something like a boyfriend someday. Even though you hated men and were always ranting about them, it somehow seemed like that in the end, the pretty girls with a sweet personality like you always ended up with some weird asshole.

She tried to shake the thought out of her mind as she held the door open for you. No, not even over my dead body.

That sounded like a nightmare. She would never let something like that happen. Maki continued to be a little lost in thought as you ordered for the two of you (a sweet iced coffee and a hot black coffe with sugar), and when a good seat became available, you just told her to sit there quickly while you waited for the drinks.

"Here you go." You said and sat down in front of her after placing the two cups on the table. As you took a sip of your sweet coffee, you noticed something unusual. "Huh? Look." You said, pointing to your cup. "Someone has written down their number."

Both of your eyes turned to the counter where a barista guy waved charmingly at you. "...hey, do you think he's attractive?" You asked playfully after overcoming your confusion.

Maki turned her slightly annoyed gaze to you. "No, not really." She answered you curtly and couldn't help but think of more scenarios in her head. First, that girl from your class who wanted to set you up with some guy, now some guy who came up to you out of nowhere.

She didn't want to think about it - she never wanted to, which is why she always blocked it out. You rarely talked to her about your love life, mainly because no one really interested you, and that was enough for Maki not to worry about...this stuff. But if others were interested in you like today...who's to say you wouldn't want to try it out at some point?

"Really? He's kinda hot, though." You replied, slightly surprised, as you played with your straw. "What's your type, then?"

"I like them more cute." She replied bluntly.

You blinked and looked around as if you were casually asking. "Cute? Like cute guys?"

This time, she didn't hesitate. Not like all the other times, because even if Maki might have many regrets in her life, she didn't want to put seeing you with some boy on that list. "No, more like cute girls."

It might be that the whole world would reject her for it, and she would forever remain an outsider, but maybe that didn't even matter. As long as she felt like she belonged by your side, the world and whoever else could reject her as much as they wanted, because how happy could such a world really make her?

Maki couldn't control everything, even if she might have liked it that way sometimes, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. Yes, this isn't too bad. That's what she thought when she felt her heart warm up by just looking at you.

Maybe I can have a little control, though. Over this. Maki took your hand in hers as a slight blush spread across her cheeks the moment your eyes met. " - like you. I like cute girls like you."

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Living with Arthur Headcanons

Warnings: Mildly suggestive, references to PTSD, period-typical toxic masculinity. Angst and Fluff ahead.

Relationship Hcs

Arthur is the sort of man that wants to appear to the world as strong and confident, because that benefits him a lot in his line of work. The men that answer to him fear him. As they should. Arthur Shelby is not a man to be messed with or teased without great caution. However, Arthur is simultaneously very sensitive and gentle. He reminisces about the past and longs for a kind future for himself. Arthur is also a man with wounds and scars he can’t quite close. So, it goes without saying that loving Arthur means to love two men at once. 

The Arthur who comes home to you on “a bad day,” is a man who melts in your arms. He comes through your door some days and just holds you. He can worry you a lot on days like those. Where he cries and can’t stop. Arthur just needs you so badly and he despises how useless it leaves him. All you can do is undress him and draw a bath for him. Depending on his state, you’ll join him and help him wash before helping him off to bed. 

He never means to rely on you like this. Arthur hates how his mind and it's jagged edges dig into you. You have shared many talks at night about "where his head is at." Tommy often comes up. And it is often Tommy that causes fights between you two. Arthur wants to be a family man and move to the country, but he won't. Not so long as Tommy needs him. And Tommy always needs him. But he put him in positions where he could be sent to prison for life, or where Arthur could be killed. The worst fights end with Arthur storming out of the house and coming back to you with bloody knuckles and a night where, "Nothing much," happened.

When you fight, Arthur is the one who apologizes first. Usually with flowers or a box of sweets. He likes to explain the entire process he went through to get the peace offering to buy himself time before saying, "I was wrong for that, yeah," or "I don't always do right, but I want to. I do."

Arthur wants to keep you clean from all the things he does for the family. He doesn't know what he would do if you were hurt.

Domestic Hcs

Arthur is completely helpless in the kitchen. He was totally content buying a meal or eating butter on toast. Coming home to you cooking was a welcome surprise. His own mother didn’t try to cook. Even if the meal you make is simple, or even burnt, Arthur will praise it like it’s the greatest thing anyone’s ever made ever. If you were to have guests over and they insulted you, Arthur would physically remove them from the house unless they were family.

You knew that Arthur’s trust for you was absolute when he asked you to help him shave. The first time you put the straight razor to his throat, you were terribly nervous. His eyes were closed, and his body relaxed. You carried on with his shave and from then on he only went to you for that task. It became a part of your routine, and a way to reinforce his trust in you. 

There are things that happen in your home that Arthur will never confess to. His pride won’t let him. One of these things is that he paints your nails for you. Neither of you can recall who suggested it. Arthur’s hands are so steady and he gets to focused, he paints your nails far better than you can. In a way, you think it might be his way of repaying you for his clean shaves. 

Arthur likes to watch you get dressed in the mornings, which isn’t always sexual for him… but it usually is. A part of his attraction comes from knowing that only he gets to see you this way. No makeup, messy hair, groaning and clumsy as you try to get ready for the day. There’s something hypnotizing about watching you do your morning routine. How you stretch from the bed and bring your nightgown over your head. The way your hair tumbles over your shoulders, the messiness of it. He would love to record the way you say, “G’morning love,” with that rasp to your voice that sleep gives it. It is a common thing with Arthur to pull you back to bed when you say that. 

He likes to make moments at home last. They make him feel at peace. They make him feel clean. Though he sometimes worries that all he's done is smear the blood from his hands to your pure soul.

[weirdsht]

Platitude (Cliché pt. 2) - LoTCF & Venion Stan! Reader

notes: I didn't plan on making a pt. 2 but the idea has been haunting me even in my sleep. If you haven't read pt. 1 I recommend you do. Most of the context in this fic will be seen there.

tags: Reader will be referred to as Venion, Raon focused, mention of torture, mention of vomit, hints of eating disorder, angst (not really I think), hurt/comfort(?), hopeful ending

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist Cliché (pt. 1)

He is great and mighty.

The dragon believes– knows that he is great and mighty.

He has known it since his he hatched from his egg. Knows that his kind is the greatest existence to ever grace this world.

Despite all those things, he can’t show just how great and mighty he is. 

And it’s all because of these stupid chains that shackle him down. Chains that restrict his movement. Chokers that rendered him unable to speak and use magic.

It doesn’t make him any less great though. He’ll be even more great and mighty once he can use magic but he is plenty great and mighty now.

That’s what he tells himself every day. What he tells to comfort himself as this atrocious noble named Venion Stan tortures him. What gets him by day by day without giving up. Without succumbing to the pain.

Words that he whispers to himself might be words of comfort, but it is not unfounded. Even at merely 3 years old. Even without magic. He is still a majestic existence. 

For he still has his wits. 

Hence why he noticed that Venion Stan is unwilling in the things he does. At first, the black dragon thought someone else was ordering him and he had no choice but to follow. Perhaps someone like the Marquiss, his father.

“Sto– ugh!”

“Did you say anything, young master?”

“No. Something just got stuck in my throat.”

That was the moment the dragon decided to look at it from a different perspective. 

He was sure Venion Stan was about to say “stop”, but was unable to because an unknown force was physically stopping him.

After that day he decided to observe the noble’s actions. 

Slowly but surely he connected the dots. Saw the signs of unwillingness in his eyes. Noticed how he would deliberately twist his words to sound evil because something would stop him if he didn’t. Felt the way Venion would secretly care for him. 

Witnessed how his eyes died a little more every visit.

The baby dragon is the one being tortured. However, he can’t help but feel pity for his torturer. Venion Stan’s mental anguish is deep. So deep that those green eyes of his almost look black from how soulless they are.

Both of them are unwilling victims in this situation. 

Once the dragon realised this fact, his heart could let go of some of his hate a little. It’s not fully gone. It can never be fully gone until he gets his revenge. Because how dare lowly humans capture and torture someone great and mighty like him?

However…

He is not irrational. He knows how to give credit where it is due. 

And in this situation that credit mostly belongs to whoever is controlling Venion Stan’s body. That and he once overheard that a secret organization is responsible for capturing him.

The black dragon believes that they must be the ones to pay the price of his wrath. 

Which was why he has decided to look kindly upon Venion. 

Over the course of the year, they have spent together, the cell the black dragon lives in has become more comfortable. Pillows and other soft objects are placed everywhere. Warm lighting replaced the white, cold ones. His chains are not as heavy and even have soft fur in them. Sometimes, he can even eat delicious and filling meals.

His living conditions are great. Well, great for a prisoner at least.

The same thing can’t be said for his torturer.

Venion Stan looks like he's the one being tortured. And honestly, the dragon also thinks so. He has gotten skinnier. The bags under his eyes have gotten deeper, as well as the despair in his eyes.

His not even eating anymore. At first, the black dragon thought that it was just an excuse to give him the food.

“Young master, I’m sorry to interfere but you did not eat dinner. You also barely ate during breakfast. This lowly servant of yours urges you to eat more.”

Oh…

It wasn’t just an excuse to give him the food.

The black dragon had at least hope that Venion Stan was eating his fill. He needed it, with all the vomiting he does. It’s bad for him to not eat anything…

Bleurgh!

Speaking of vomiting. Another thing the dragon had noticed was how there seemed to be blood in his vomit nowadays. He hypothesises that it has something to do with the young noble pushing the unknown restrictions to make him more comfortable.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Young master! Are you okay!? I’ll go call for a healer!“

“No need. This is just from the heat outside.”

The black dragon observes as blood drips down from Venion’s nose. It happened almost immediately after he ordered his men to lessen their business in the back alleys.

Blood must be the payment whenever a restriction is violated. However, Venion Stan doesn’t seem to be aware of it. It looks like he truly thinks it’s just from the heat.

Luckily it doesn’t happen again.

The blood in his vomit was still there, but he didn’t have a nosebleed after that incident.

Not that the dragon cares of course. He just thinks that it will be a pity if Venion drops dead before he can get his revenge.

Venion Stan must stay alive until he can get his revenge.

“I promise after tonight everything will get better…”

The fool whispered in his ear one random night. He was merely resting his eyes but Venion must’ve thought he was asleep and begun whispering a bunch of nonsense in his ear.

But he lets it be.

He doesn’t know why, but his instincts are telling him to pretend to sleep and see what Venion will do.

It was silent for a few moments, but then he suddenly felt a soft hand stroking his head. The hand was skinny. Boney even. It wasn’t the ideal head pat. Nonetheless, the black dragon felt an odd sense of comfort as Venion stroked his head.

Plop

Plop

He felt two lone tears wet his horns. Tears that are full of suffering. The tears of someone who is carrying a different shackles than what the dragon does.

After that, like a dream, Venion Stan goes out of the cave.

When he opened his eyes again he could see servants removing the decorations that adored his cell. Turning it back to how it used to be; cold and uncomfortable.

For a moment the dragon thought Venion Stan was abandoning him.

The thought alone makes him feel a sense of dread. But he doesn’t know why. For surely, it can’t be because he has learned how to care for that cold-hearted bastard.

‘But he isn’t really cold-hearted…’

He pushes his thoughts away as this mysterious red-haired man carries him out of the cave. Showed him what the night sky looked like for the first time.

The mysterious man sets him free. He doesn’t try to keep him. Tells him to live his lie how he wants to.

And that’s exactly what he does.

He felt a sense of attachment to the man named Cale. So he follows him around. Hunts food for them to eat.

But that’s not the only thing he has been doing.

One night, for just one night a few days after his escape. He doesn’t follow Cale Henituse.

Instead, he follows Venion Stan.

It was easy to track him down. Both men are going to the capital after all. It merely took minutes for the toddler to find out where he was.

Honestly, he has no good reason why he would visit his torturer. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was to ensure he didn’t drop dead before he got his revenge.

Nonetheless, the dragon visits Venion to see the terrible state he is in.

Terrible doesn’t justify the state Venion is in.

As the black dragon peeks at the windows he can see the blonde sitting straight in his bed. With nothing but a singular candle to accompany him in his large, and lavish room.

Venison Stan looks horrific. There’s nothing behind his green eyes. No emotions whatsoever. His eyes were green but they looked like black holes.

He looks like those creepy things On has told stories about. The ones possessed by ghosts and don’t know who they are anymore.

Yeah, that was it. 

Venison Stan looked like someone who has lost his sense of self.

He looks like a puppet waiting desperately for his strings to be cut off.

“One more year… Just one more year and everything will end… I have laid out everything. Have done everything I could.”

Venison Stan started muttering to himself.

“But why? Why must I suffer like this? Was I that bad in my past life?”

His voice was emotionless, yet the dragon could hear his despair loud and clear.

“I think I lived decently… I did, right? Maybe I thought it wrong? Maybe I was atrocious… Maybe I deserve this. Maybe I’m meant to not be able to have free will. Maybe the gods thought that giving me free will is a bad idea…”

Venion did not spill a single tear. But the dragon could tell he was weeping.

Unable to hear anymore, he flew back to where Cale and the others were.

That night he feels his heart become as heavy as the choker that used to chain him down.

“...It’s okay. I said it’s okay”

The black dragon mumbled to himself as Venion Stan walks by.

He may feel a sense of kinship with the noble but it does not erase the trauma he has experienced. Even if he knows it was traumatizing for Venion too.

But just like he couldn’t stop his shaking limbs when Venion approached them with that vicious look he had. He also can’t stop himself from checking how the blonde is doing.

‘He still eats so little… His dizzy, he grits his teeth like that whenever he feels dizzy from not eating enough.’

The emotions other people had mistaken for anger... only the black dragon could decipher what they truly mean.

Maybe time really brings a sense of familiarity.

But he keeps his mouth shut. Doesn’t tell anyone, not even Cale, of Venion’s real state.

Because he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care.

He doesn’t care but he still checked on Venion during the terrorist attack. Makes sure that he is alive and in one piece. 

He doesn’t care but still thinks about him every night. Thinks about those mutterings he heard that night.

He doesn’t care but he hopes and prays that Venion has not dropped dead yet. Hopes that his eating as well as Raon is doing.

He doesn’t care, it’s all just part of his revenge. He must get the perfect revenge.

But the sweet, young dragon could only lie to himself for so long.

“Human…”

Raon spoke the night before they were supposed to kidnap Venion Stan.

“There’s something I haven’t told you about that bastard.”

Cale opens his ears as Raon spills everything. Listens to every word coming out of the toddler's mouth. 

And after all that Cale asks him.

“What do you want to do now?”

If he doesn’t want to proceed Cale wont force him. That’s what he likes the most about his human. Cale respects every decision he makes. Attentively listens to everything he has to say.

“I still want to kidnap him. But… I don’t want to torture him. He has already been tortured enough.”

Raon buries his head on Cale’s chest. He stops his tears from flowing.

“Human, his still suffering. Even after my chains got removed, his shackles remained.”

“Okay, we’ll do what you want.”

Cale doesn’t fully comprehend what he means but he respects his decisions. Raon knows that Cale doesn’t understand.

“You’ll understand what I mean once you see his eyes.”

That was the only thing he said to his human. He wanted Venion’s gaze to tell the rest of the tale.

Venison Stan did not disappoint.

He delivered exactly what Raon wanted to show everyone.

Showed everyone just how much melancholy his eyes held.

In fact, there’s so much anguish hidden behind those eyes of his that even Raon was shocked.

If Raon thought Venion’s state was terrible a year ago, he has no words to describe him now.

The man looks dead. No, he looks like his desperately waiting for death.

And it brings a sick feeling to Raon’s stomach.

“Do you have any questions left for him?”

Cale asks after the blonde man faints from coughing blood. He says no, his curiosity has been quenched. The answers he provided and the clear repercussions of his restriction satisfied Raon.

“Human ask him for Venion’s servant! The granny that wears her hair in a bun! She knows just how little that punk eats!”

“Tell him about how he can’t control his words and actions! Tell him about how doesn’t want to do most of the things his doing!”

“Human what sentence did Venion Stan get? Is he okay? You told them to not send him to prison right? You told them he didn’t have a choice right?”

“Human, are you busy? Can you call Taylor and ask him how Venion is doing?”

“Are we going anywhere this week? If not can we go visit the Stan territory?”

“Maybe if I bring him apple pies he’ll eat more?”

Raon doesn’t even know what his doing. He doesn’t realise just how much he is looking after his supposed torturer.

However, no one calls him out on it. They just indulge the child and let him do whatever he wants.

“Venion is inside that room young master. You can try to speak to him but it’s unlikely that he’ll respond… Are you sure you want to go in alone?”

Taylor Stan asks one more time and Cale just nodded in affirmation.

“If you need any assistance a servant will be waiting here.”

With that Taylor leaves leaving Cale to enter Venion’s room alone. Well, he and Raon but Taylor doesn’t know about the dragon’s existence.

“He also looked like this when I visited him that one night.”

As soon as the door closed, Raon turned off his invisibility and flew over to the bed where Venion was sitting up.

“But that time he looked more alive. He looked like he was looking forward to something. Turns out he was looking forward to his death but that it was still a better look than what he has right now.”

Cale clicks his tongue but Raon ignores him. Instead, he directed his words to Venion.

“That night, before the human got me out of that cave. I’m sure you remember it. Did you know that I heard what you told me that night?”

Raon feels like Venion is listening to him.

“You told me that after that night everything will get better. And it did, after that night everything did get better for me.”

The toddler placed his paw on top of Venion’s still hand.

“But what about you? Why did nothing get better for you after that night? Even now you’re still being tortured. You’re shackles are still holding you down even after you broke mine.”

Raon raised his shaking paws to hug the man. From the side, Cale merely observes, ready to step in when needed.

“Consider this as payment for patting my head that night.”

The black dragon feels a lone tear grace his head. He doesn’t say anything about it. He didn’t even raise his head to look at Venion.

They stayed like that for at least 2 minutes. At some point, Venion’s arms had also embraced Raon. His hold was weak and lifeless. Like when you force a teddy bear to encircle his arms around you. 

But it’s the best he can do right now, and Raon will take it.

“We have to go, but before we go I’ll leave you one of my apple pies.”

Raon places a lone apple pie on the nightstand.

“Beacrox made it! He makes delicious food! Maybe if you eat something that tastes good you’ll eat more! Next visit I’ll try to save some of the Crown Prince’s cookies for you to try!”

With that, Raon waved his hand goodbye after promising to visit again.

A few days after that meeting, Cale receives an update from Taylor Stan saying that his brother is eating a bit more now. He excitedly tells Cale how he's been eating the desserts Raon sends.

Cale smiles at the thought of Raon’s happy face once he hears how Venion Stan is slowly recovering.

And indeed Raon was elated at the news. He immediately urges Cale to go visit Venion again.

He may not be fond of the guy, but Cale smiles a little as his kid frantically packs a bunch of things to bring to the Stan territory.

[steviewashere]

Please Don't Go Away (Is This How It's Supposed To Be?)

Rating: General CW: Death of A Pet, Animal Death, Original Animal Character Death, Cancer in a Pet Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Grieving Steve Harrington, Dog Owner Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Senior Dog, Grieving Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, The Lord of The Rings References Title from "Upside Down" by Jack Johnson. Something something, you can't save people, you can only love them. For @steddieangstyaugust Day 3: "The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?"

🦮—————🦮 Steve Harrington has a heart too big for this world. It beats with love and passion. He cares too much about any living thing he comes across. Seen in his friendships with everybody in the party, with his platonic soulmate relationship with Robin, his polite kindness to Nancy, and his deep and all-encompassing infatuating love for Eddie.

Then, a newcomer is added to his roster.

A golden retriever. It’s a senior dog, roughly eight years old. Shaggy yellow fur that’s half-white. Dark brown eyes, almost like Eddie’s. He likes to prance around, play fetch from dawn to dusk, swim in the pool, and get cuddles between Steve and Eddie in bed. He loves sitting outside with them as they smoke cigarettes. Loves being a part of their day to day lives. Sitting on the porch of their two bedroom apartment, gazing at the sky, as the sun dips low and lower. He rests his heavy head on Eddie’s bare foot and huffs in his sleep, drools onto the wood of the porch, and when he wakes up from his little nap—he always gazes at the stars, too.

His name is Sammy—Samwise, otherwise. And he’s Steve’s best pet friend. The first pet Steve has ever had. The one that earns all of his love.

——— “Eds?” Steve calls out, voice soft, near empty.

They’re sitting at their dining table. Eating from the same pot of macaroni and cheese. Both their faces the pure definition of melancholy.

Sammy’s got a tumor, the vet had said just a few hours ago. It’s cancerous. It’s aggressive.

It’s terminal.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Eddie speaks just as quietly. His throat hurts from the cigarettes he just suckled down not too long ago. Pinched inside from the little amount of talking he’s done today. He was driving the car back home, Steve in the passenger seat crying, and himself holding back tears—he had to see the road.

Steve sniffles. His fork is stirring around in the macaroni. He hasn’t had a bite of it yet. “Do you think…” He stops moving his fork. Eyes clouding, glistening as they look down at the dinged up surface of the table. Swallows, the saliva clicking. “Should I just give him one more good day and then…send him home?”

Eddie reaches for him at that. Taking Steve’s right hand in his. The skin he touches is cold, rough, and clammy. His thumb scoots to the pulse point on Steve’s wrist, it beats slow against him. “That’s up to you, baby. He’s more your dog than mine. I can’t make that decision.”

“But I…Eds, I love him so much,” Steve states, warbling, “he’s my baby. I don’t want him to suffer, but I don’t want to let him go.”

He quickly drops his own fork in the pot of food. Slower, though, he rakes his hand over the top of Steve’s head, fingers idly tangling in his hair, scratching at his scalp. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, “look at me.” Steve does, raising his heavy head, eyes miserable and dark and red, shoulders hunched to his ears, and that frown of his low to his chin. Eddie hates this. “I’ve lost plenty of pets before,” he explains, voice low in his chest, “some of them passed with old age. Some of them escaped through the door and I never saw them again. But I’ve had two that died because they were sick; one of them I had put to sleep.

“And let me tell you, honey, in a case like Sammy’s, he’s only going to break your heart everyday. Sometimes you’ll think your Samwise is better and ready to play. Then, the next morning, he’ll be back to laying down all day, barely eating, mostly sleeping.

“I love him, too; to bits and pieces, to crumbs, to atoms. But you love him more, Stevie. You love him so much, I see that. I know you do. Listen to me, though.

“You can only love him, Steve. He’s terminal, sweetheart. You can’t save him from this. I think, in this case, it’s best to love him as hard as you can, give him the paradise of his dreams, and then let him…send him home.”

Steve’s face isn’t dark anymore. Just morose. Eyes heavy and exhausted. Tears glistening down his cheeks. Face splotchy red and warm when Eddie brushes his knuckles over it. His lips and chin are wobbling. Eddie hates this.

He cups the back of Steve’s head and brings it to his shoulder. And feels more than sees the way Steve weeps and sobs and gags into his neck. His back is bouncing up and down, choppy with each of his shaking breaths. And on the bare skin of his shin, Eddie feels Sammy brush against him. He blearily reaches down and pets the dog’s back, grounding himself for the last few days to come.

——— They’ve got the van set up for the day. Sammy’s dog bed set up in the back, where the seats usually would be. Pillows upon pillows, the comforter from their bed, and a few of their sweatshirts cushioning Sammy on all sides. There’s a greasy paper bag from the diner in the front seat, a cheeseburger without all the fixings, and a small French fry waiting for their buddy. Windows rolled down for fresh air to hit Sammy’s fur. His face is of pure contentment, eyes wide and giddy, panting heavily. Eddie wonders if this is what he’d look like as a puppy, without the grey fur.

Steve’s quiet in the passenger seat. Head looking over his left shoulder, between the seats. His hands twisted in his lap. Smile small and wobbling and deeply remorseful. Eddie offered to let him pick music; packed up several of Steve’s cassettes, but he didn’t even look at them, didn’t even care. They’re his favorite albums, too. Which makes it worse.

The silence has been one of the worst parts of all this.

After the other day, Eddie had been the one to schedule the euthanasia appointment. For just after sundown. One more sunset before their boy goes.

He drives through backroads, between long stretches of nothing but field, and after some time, he parks at the base of a steep hill. And when he gets out, Steve is already scooting out of the back of the van, Sammy in his arms, curled up tight in a ball, clearly too heavy to be moved like this—if the awkward ambling in Steve’s legs says anything—but he just carries on. One slow step at a time until their little hike ends at the top.

Eddie brought up the dog bed and their comforter, the bag of diner food, and the sweatshirts. He lays it all out. Lets Sammy curl up in the bed, covers him with the blanket, stuffs the hoodies on either of his sides, and then hands the food over to Steve to unwrap and feed. He does it slowly. Tears little chunks off of the cheeseburger. Holds the fries two at a time between his clenched fingers. And when it’s gone, he settles his upper body on Sammy’s back, lays his arm between the dog’s legs, and rubs his cheek atop Sammy’s head.

Then, they watch.

The sky shifts from baby blue. To yellow, like Sammy’s young fur. A muted pink, the color of Steve’s cheeks when he laughs—when he cries. And then a mirage of all of the colors, blending and mixing into one saturated thing. The sun dipping low, just the upper third of it still visible. Stars already poking from their hiding spots.

It’s the best sunset Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. But he looks over to Steve anyway. Watches him pet fur under his hand, twirl it between his fingers into tight twists. His eyes spilling fast, fat tears. Barely making a sound, just the stuttering of his breath. Nasally and sharp through his nose. Lips pinched tight, rolled into his teeth. Eyelashes clumped together and darker than Eddie’s ever seen them. He lays his right hand on the back of Steve’s head and pets him, too.

Steve clears his throat. Rough and raw and probably painful. “The sunset looks lovely, don’t you think, Sammy?” He asks quietly, burrowing his head further into the fur. The only response he gets is a snuffle, to which he chuckles at. It’s short lived and terribly bittersweet. “What about you, Eds?” Steve whispers.

He digs his fingers deeper into Steve’s hair, running them all the way down to the ends and then back up. It’s all sorts of tangled from not brushing it this morning, all in his haste to make this a good day. Eddie heaves a small sigh through his nose. “I think it’s the best one I’ve seen,” he answers honestly, the words crackling.

A dissonate grunt.

Steve shifts his head again, his fingers making circles over Sammy’s heart. “How much time do we have?”

His watch is three minutes behind, 8pm, it reads.

“Roughly fifty-seven minutes. But they told me as long as it’s before ten, they’ll be able to do it.”

“And we can be there with him?”

“They said we can be there if we want. From the moment they do it to the moment he closes his eyes. Told me we could stay for a little while after, too. For us to really say…y’know.”

His fingers shift as Steve nods. Heart breaking at the sound of Steve’s stifled small cries. In a strained, quiet voice, Steve admits, “I don’t want another one after him, I think.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart.”

Another, though less stifled, sniffle. “You’ll cuddle me tonight, right?”

“Don’t even have to ask,” Eddie breathes.

“I’m gonna miss him.”

“I know,” he whispers, “I will, too.”

Sammy snuffles deeper again. The sky dark and stars endless. It’s quiet, really.

Until, Steve half-sobs, turns his head, and looks up to Eddie. His eyes wide and deep like abysses. Shiny. Blurry with the tears. “Will you read The Fellowship of The Ring tonight?” He asks in this heartbreaking, tiny, wet voice.

“‘Course, sweetheart,” Eddie agrees immediately. Because he can’t take this, but he isn’t running.

“Okay,” Steve murmurs, tears spilling over again, “I wanna know what Samwise does next. Where he goes.”

Eddie gives a soft smile. A small one. “I think you’ll like where he ends up.”

Steve mirrors his expression, however miserable he is. “Good,” he whispers. He closes his eyes, swallows deep. “I think I’m ready to go. Are you okay to leave?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, “and Steve?” He traces his fingers on Steve’s hairline, down the side of his face, mapping carefully over his cheek, brushing under his eye. Taking in this calmer moment before the true storm tonight.

“Hm?”

He clears his throat, it’s tight and aching. Then, quietly, “Sammy understands, okay? He loves you. And I love you. And whatever comes of this tonight, just know that it’s not your fault tomorrow. You loved him, you’ll always love him, and that’s all you can do.”

Steve exhales slow through his nose and swallows hard again. His eyebrows furrow very briefly before he relaxes. “I love you so much,” he breathes, “thank you.”

“None of that. Now…” He stands up from his spot, knees aching and back pinched, he offers a hand down for Steve to take and hefts him up, too when he grabs on. “Let’s go, love. I’ll be right here the entire time.”

And he is. Holds Steve’s hand. Pets Sammy’s head.

And he wraps his arms around Steve when he breaks down in their bed later, holding the tagged collar to his chest, wailing straight into Eddie’s heart. But Eddie’s got him, he loves him. It’s all he can do.

🦮—————🦮

[stargirl-writes]

devotion

pairing : f! reader x anakin skywalker

word count : 1.3k

masterlist | ao3 link

summary

when you decided to sleep with anakin skywalker, you have set an arrangement to keep it purely physical. but it was getting harder to repress that you've fallen for him. and tonight, you aren't sure if you can keep seeing him in like this anymore.

tags : angst, hurt/no comfort, pining.

warnings : !mature content! (implication of sexual themes, but not discussed) and drinking. kind of a cliffhanger (i'm debating whether i should make another part still)

notes : hello lovely people, i'm currently hyperfixiating on media referring/relating love to faith and cannibalism (as smone with religious trauma haha!) so here's my tiny drabble on that, i hope ya like it 🪽

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Corruption begins at the mouth. To consume the flesh— the wanting. The thought of being ready to devote entirely. And to be devoured with the same intensity.

So when you agreed to have sex with Anakin Skywalker, you convinced yourself it was purely physical. The attraction has always been there, one of you is bound to break, and to your favor, Anakin had been the one to come to your quarters.

But it doesn't matter. Whatever you feel is overcome by your fear of intimacy. You can satiate the physical sensations without ever needing to commit.

He wanted you. And you wanted him — in the same manner. Purely physical, that was the arrangement you set.

The days are most exhausting but you can give into the relief of coming apart by Anakin's touch, and his hungry kisses, and his deep thrusts. You'd forget the stresses of the galaxies. You'd allow him to hold you, without him knowing that no one has ever stood to your soul as he does when his eyes fix on you at the edge of your climax.

And Anakin would fuck like you were the most beautiful thing he'd got his hands on. He becomes greedy, he'd become the closest thing to intimacy you can define.

It never mattered how you felt before.

He always made sure to have you feel good first, and you'd always make him crumble by your touch after.

It was a mutual exchange.

There's no need to complicate such a clear line by confusing his kisses as something romantic.

You knew he was carnivorous about love— he'd want to be teeth deep in possession. He could love you, if you let him, you could become his God.

And that terrified you more than your fear of intimacy.

You stood up from the sheets, legs still trembling.

Despite the moments earlier, you wrapped your robe around your body, feeling exposed.

You know Anakin would never stay after. It was good that he didn't. At least, then you can reestablish some space after such a binding ritual of fucking and vows that leave his lips in the heat of the moment.

You sat down by the chair away from your bed, pouring yourself a drink. It was a vice you developed during the war. One you can't entirely quit because it sends you straight to sleep.

Anakin was steadying his breath. You heard him shuffling, as if he too was trying to come down from the high.

You downed your drink and poured another. Begging for that warm buzz to come over quickly so you'd stop feeling so... excessively.

Through the mirror, you saw Anakin put back his garments— his hair stubbornly a mess.

You take your gaze away from lingering on his bare torso. Or his sharp jaw. Or his tight back.

You drank your shot once more.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Anakin says, his profile the only thing you could make out from the reflection.

Your heart aches, torn between wanting to say yes, i'll see you tomorrow, please come find me tomorrow, hold me tomorrow, and no, i can't keep doing this tomorrow, i don't want to see you tomorrow.

You cannot admit that you knew loving would destroy you. if he comes tomorrow, you fear you'd break and finally tell him. But then again, if you refuse, he'll know how you felt.

The stage is finally set; for you and Anakin to dance and circle around waiting to be consumed by one another.

Possession is cruel, it corrupts. You thought, with all the love you have— you could eat him whole.

You don't speak, Anakin steps forward, standing very close to your back.

The heat of his body emanates to your robes— casting imprints on the fibers of your soul.

You saw Anakin's gaze land on the drink you were having. He never did like how you turn to alcohol for some sort of relief.

"Did you not want me to come tomorrow?" He insists after noticing your silence.

Your lips purse, "No"

He tilts his head, lost by what you meant.

"No— no, you can, if you want to" you clarified, unsure how committed you were to your own words.

You downed the rest of your drink— feeling the familiar haze of its effect.

"Then what's bothering you?" Anakin speaks softly, you hated how much you didn't want to ruin this.

You sigh, shaking your head "Nothing"

"Nothing at all"

Anakin kneels down, wanting to see your eyes. His eyes were dark, intent, you wondered what they'd look like if he fell in love.

"Did I—" He begins, Your eyebrows furrow at the concern coating his voice.

"Did I hurt you? Did I do something?"

You pressed your palm against his cheek, forcing him to look up. "No, Anakin"

Under your touch, he looked like everything you asked for. Underneath your sinful fingers, he becomes something you could worship.

You caught yourself dreaming and withdrew your hand, taking the glass of alcohol instead.

You could feel his eyes burn at your skin watching you drink.

"I'll see you tomorrow" You dismissed, standing up, trying to establish some space, so you can stop being so encased by his warmth, or his eyes, or his hair, or his hold on you he was so blissfully unaware of.

Your head spun, you fought through the blurriness.

You found yourself at the balcony instead, a breath of fresh air would do you good.

You waited to hear your door lock— held your breath til he left.

But he stays.

"You know, you really should stop depending on alcohol" Anakin appears next to you.

You ran your finger to the rim of your drink, huffing a breathless laugh.

"It's the only thing that comforts me nowadays" You sigh, not intending the double entendre.

Besides, you doubt he'll interpret your attraction to him as anything else.

The silence hung once more. The cold of the midnight air felt crisp against your bare legs, so you hugged your robe against your skin.

"I worry about you" Anakin's voice was husky, exhausted. "We used to be able to talk about everything before"

Your heart tinges in guilt. Along the way, you somehow have pushed him farther away by denying how you felt.

"I'm sorry, I've just been trying to figure out some things"

You're doing it because of love. And for love, you disappear.

"Well, come to me. You know you can always come to me, whenever you need me." Anakin stresses.

You look up, biting your tongue. Begging to stay in one piece.

If you offer yourself— it'd be the most selfish thing you'll do.

You'll be mine. You thought as you get lost in his eyes.

Burning devotion. For all eternity.

"Anakin, we can't keep doing this anymore" You said finally, submitting to your truth.

Anakin's eyes furrow in focus. "Doing what?"

You frown, trying to explain something incommunable.

You've always felt ashamed for wanting. For taking. It wasn't a virtue, it was a disguise. Because you can't love without giving yourself entirely, bones and all. Ravenous, intense, unforgiving devotion.

Because isn't bite also a form of touch?

Finally, Anakin seems to understand the expression painted on your face. You held your breath, bracing for his reaction.

"You wanted this" He reminds. The sterness of his voice made you flinch. It felt like the cruelest rejection.

"I know"

"You said clear lines. No attachments"

"I know" You felt like you were being caught in the act of doing something forbidden.

Anakin's expression hardens, seeming to process your admission.

Your tears were threatening to fall, but you refused to let them. You didn't want him to feel sorry you felt that way. You didn't want him to know how far you've pathetically fallen for him.

He turns to his heel and your heart breaks.

The tear finally leaks your left eye, as your hand reaches out, just enough to grip on the end of his robe.

"Stay"

part ii?

© to @cafekitsune for the borders!

[aerscribbles]

^owo^ < My dumb ass starting yet another WIP because I'm not in the mood to work on the complex two chapter long fight scene or the genuine emotional intimacy/psychological warfare.

Anyhoo, I think we can all agree that Hua Cheng writes/has written fanfiction, right? (if you don't agree... why?)

The main premise is that HC gets really mad at a trashy romance novel (he read all of the good ones and is scraping the bottom of the barrel) and Yin Yu offhandedly suggests he write his own.

Fafa being Fafa, the idea is taken completely seriously.

The resulting end product is pretty much just Wu Ming/Calamity!Xie Lian, cultivatorXdemon, hurt-comfort, angst-with-a-happy-ending fanfiction with the serial numbers scraped off.

Yin Yu is made to proofread, and does fix the grammar where it goes wrong, but is also... not experienced with all this scholar stuff, and has no idea how to fix the phrasing issues (over-describing certain things like clothes, referring to characters by their hair color or relative age, the Orbs, etc, etc).

He Xuan gets dragged in as the second beta reader & editor. Suffers.

Heh. Betta Reader.

After the book is published, it gets really popular among gods and ghosts alike, because the author just kind of... gets it, the fixations and complexities of a conceptual being. Also, the art is really fucking good.

Eventually, Xie Lian finds a copy.

(It doesn't count as breaking your vows if you read it for the plot and characters, right?!)

And it's... comforting? getting a different perspective on that part of his life.

But also kind of makes some things slightly worse, digging up traumas and stuff.

Seeing this kind of situation from the other perspective is very disorienting, with the MC taking any sign of attention from the ML as a reward- even when it is just straight-up abuse. The narrator/author criticizes this behavior, specifically in the way that it enables the ML's self-harm and descent into insanity.

(Basically, a scathing critique of his own actions)

Xie Lian, having finished the first volume: where can I get more of this?

Thankfully, the author Inkstained Fox sticks with the story for all seven volumes. And an additional volume of extras.

The story ends with the main characters settling down and rebuilding ML's sect, adopting a bunch of children disciples in the process.

Inkstained Fox doesn't stop with one successful series, though.

(Validation is one hell of a drug.)

No, he keeps writing for centuries.

...

Some ideas for Fafa's barely disguised fanfiction:

priestess/rain deity, toxic yuri

artist/the demon that haunts his dreams

loyal servant/young lord, political intrigue

field healer/general, surprisingly accurate to real army conditions

human sacrifice/god of death

...

What a surprise it is for Hua Cheng to walk in to Puqi Shrine and find multiple bookshelves filled with literally every book he had ever published.

(They are so obsessed with each other)

[wrathkitty]

Story/Series Masterlist

Hellooo! Thanks for stumbling onto this. My fandoms primarily are The Mandalorian and Star Trek: TNG, but there's also The Last of Us, Avengers, Portal 2, and The Good Place. I try to stick as closely to the original source material as possible, I know the canon and the characters, and probably throw in more Easter eggs and other blink-and-you'll-miss-it references than I should.

If you're one for strong and snarky Readers/OFCs (here there be swearing), slow burns (envision a glacier), angst (it's a good kind of pain), and humor (lulz), then this is probably a good place to come waste some time. 👻

* Current works in progress *

Short Debts Make Long Friends - (The Mandalorian; Din Djarin/Reader)

An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure. 1.6k kudos on Ao3. POV Mando and Reader.

Why Don't You Sit Right Down and Stay Awhile - One-shots from "Short Debts" that admittedly are the walking definition of 'crack treated seriously'

- Can Your Helmet Play Elevator Music? - Oh, This is Much Worse- ...It was a Custom Piece

Completed stories:

Hello, My Dear - (Star Trek: TNG; Reader/Q)

Stories of the life and times of Q and his mortal more-than-just-a-friend, Ensign Reader. Because being omnipotent doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to relationships. POV Q and Reader.

As Q Like It - One-shots from "Hello, My Dear," which primarily remain within in TNG but also wander into Voyager and other territories, but none beyond the Neutral Zone

- Shoo, Q! - TNG; Lower Decks; POV Ensign - Does the Other Party In This Scenario Go By Some Form of Epithet, Identification, or Nomenclature? - TNG; POV Data - You Have Three Choices - TNG; POV Q - That Wasn't the Actual Question - TNG; POV Reader - Do I Always Have to Have a Reason to Stop By? - TNG; POV Reader - I Haven't the Vaguest Idea of What You're Talking About - TNG, POV Q - Silver Q - Picard, POV Q

To My Brother, Thor, Whom I Slept With - (Avengers; Loki & Thor)

One-shots about the shenanigans of a young Loki and Thor, and why the young princes of Asgard are the best birth control ever. Primarily Loki's POV, but also occasionally POV Odin and Frigga regretting their choices)

- Great Aunt Snotra's Funeral- A Midnight Lesson in the Current Events of Midgard - The People vs. The Brothers Odinson, or That Time Loki Thought It Was a Bright Idea to Appear on Daytime TV - One Flew Over the Ravens' Nest (Even the Gods Can Be - Psychoanalyzed)

Come Downstairs and Say Hello - (Portal 2; Chell/Wheatley)

With Wheatley in tow, Chell might as well write "DISPENSE PRODUCT HERE" on her shirt and throw herself in front of a turret...but she can't leave him behind, either. POV Chell, Wheatley, and GLaDOS.

Other works in progress that I don't have the heart to admit to myself are probably on permanent hiatus:

Bang, Zoom, Straight to the Moon - (The Last of Us; Joel/OFC)

Joel has been more than happy to let Ellie sabotage his love life since their arrival in Jackson, but all bets are off after she learns that the town’s most recent arrival is a former astronaut. The new gal is smart, single, pretty, and good with a gun. And she’s gone to mother *fucking* space. Joel POV.

Lucky Denver Mint - (Logan Lucky; Clyde Logan/OFC)

The stars over Boone County never looked brighter than the night a pretty astrophysicist walked into Clyde Logan’s bar. Clyde POV.

The Sleazy Place - (The Good Place)

The possibility of Michael never making into the Good Place is why Janet [literally] reassemble the Soul Squad - and what they owe Michael is why Eleanor doesn't hesitate to team up with her friends one last time to try and save their favorite former fire-squid. Eleanor POV. ...She just needs to finish that margarita first.

Like what you see? Please reblog and comment! I love comments.

[autisticgaypirates]

hello dubai!

if i had to choose one song to play on repeat for the rest of my life, it'd be bambi by clairo. if you don't know this song, please for the love of ellie and mason go listen to it

it makes me feel.. a lot. it's very much a bittersweet song, mostly about clairo's relationship with the music industry and management. however, a lot of the lyrics can be interpreted to refer to a romantic relationship... y'all already see what's going on

the lyric i always scream while crying is "rushing so i can beat the line, but what if all i want is conversation and time?" GOD it's just oh my god

so! here's a short thing i wrote about ace regarding that line. uhhh no warnings i don't think. there's like suggestive stuff implied but no actual freaky deaky type shit. not sad enough to angst but y'know. yeah that's about it tbh. i also don't know the word count since i wrote this in my notes app :3 please ENJOY 💜

"rushing so i can beat the line..."

was he a heartthrob? no. did he have women begging at his feet to be with him? no. however, was always able to get what he wanted? with his crooked smile and dark eyes, absolutely.

you've had your eyes on ace ever since you stepped onto the deck of the moby dick. it felt kind of wrong, considering whitebeard saw you all as his children, but there was no actual blood relation so it's fine... right?

your biggest fear is him viewing you as a sister. you would rather him hate your guts and fight the urge to kill you every time he sees you than have him see you as a sister. all you wanted was one chance with him, no intimacy required.

your fear heightens as you approach the new island. he always brings some random drunk broad onto the ship and fucks her senseless. she always leaves before he wakes up, and he can't even attempt to find her. he didn't even learn her name. he copes by finding another drunk broad, acting as if monogamy would kill him.

if he's always this horny and desperate, then it's obvious that there was no hope for you. you were the only girl on the ship, why wouldn't he take advantage of that?

you rest your arms across the railing of the ship, feeling sick to your stomach as you see an island in the distance. you groan as your forehead falls onto the railing as well, hiding your face from everyone and everything surrounding you.

a rough, calloused, and incredibly warm hand touches your shoulder, completely exposed from the [f/c] tank top you wore. you jerk your head up at the unexpected feeling as a gasp of shock leaves your lips. you hear a familiar laugh attached to the hand.

"didn't mean to scare ya there, [y/n], my bad." it was ace. you turn and see his bright smile, face slightly flushed from the guilt of startling you.

you smile and shake your head. "it's okay, you didn't mean it." you turn to face him as his hand leaves your shoulder. "so..." you say awkwardly, leaning back against the ship's railing. "you need anything from me?"

what kind of stupid fucking question is that?

"yeah, i do actually," ace says optimistically. "come explore the island with me today. i heard there's some cool shops to check out, like jewelers and stuff. you're into that, right?" he points to the necklace you were wearing. you look down, forgetting you even had it on. you look back up at him, giggling a bit.

"yeah, yeah that'd be fun," you say as calmly as possible. there's no way he wants to take you to a jewelry store... maybe you're overthinking this but that's a bit much for the first real time you two are alone, no?

the ship suddenly stops, reaching the dock that leads to the island's entrance. ace still stands in front of you, but his eyes are now on what he can see of the island instead of you. he begins to grin as he gets excited.

"ah yeah, let's go!" he says excitedly, grabbing your hand and dragging you along.

he held your hand until the end of the dock. you'll count that as a win.

hours pass, and after a day of meeting new people and seeing new places, it was time to unwind. it was getting dark, and you weren't familiar with what went on on this island, so you stayed close to ace. he didn't seem to mind, though.

you watch as he navigates the area, looking for a bar of some sort. his eyes stop on a bar with a large crowd of people in it, drunkenly dancing to the live music that played from the small stage inside.

"i forced you to be my friend all day, so the least i can do is get you a drink," he tells you, turning his heels to walk into the bar.

friend.

as long as it's not sister.

the crowd of people was bigger than you anticipated, making you slightly anxious. there were a lot of women there, and all of them were wearing just enough clothes to not get arrested for nudity. all of them looked at be at least 10 years older than him, but neither the women nor ace seemed to care. you were right around his age. it was just unfortunate at this point.

you studied the room deeply, the insecurity building up. you got so lost in your own anxiety that you didn't even notice ace walk away to buy you a drink and bring it to you. the glass in front of your face snapped you out of your trance; you needed this shot badly.

"bottoms up, buttercup," he tells you. he gives you a wink before downing it in one swig. you do the same. "alright [y/n]," ace says, staring into the crowd. "let's go find people for us to bring back to the ship tonight."

he walks away.

you stand and watch him.

you stand and watch him and become enraged with yourself for being so pathetic. you go to the bar top and leave your empty glass there, tipping the bartender a couple of berri (and a hair tie) that you found in your pocket.

you don't take your eyes off of him in that crowd. you march into it before he gets swallowed by the sea of people. you know that once he's in that crowd, he'll find a pretty pair of cougar tits and bring them onto the moby dick.

you manage to grab a hold of his hand just before you lost him entirely. you pull him out of the crowd, not caring if he accidentally hits someone. he wasn't even fully in the crowd yet and were already able to sense the eyes of women on him.

you had to rush to beat the line that you knew was already forming.

"woah, [y/n]," he says, stumbling towards you. "what's going on? you okay? do you w-"

you kissed him. you shut him up. your hand migrated from his palm to his face, cupping it softly as you leaned into it. you felt his fingertips on your leg, right at the bottom of your overly short shorts.

you released the kiss, looking at him while the realization of what you had done hit you. you felt panic rise within you, your breathing beginning to stagger. you backed away from him, your eyes glossy. you wanted to run.

so you did.

~~~~

"... but what if all i want is conversation and time?"

you sat on the edge of the dock by the moby dick. your whole crew, with the exception of you and ace, were done for the night. you had no idea what time it was. you didn't care. nothing felt real, but it also felt too real.

hugging your knees, you watched the ocean's horizon as tears stained your face. the moon gave the ocean such a melancholic glow, the stars peppering it with their subtle shine.

"[y/n]!" a voice behind you yells. you don't even look. you recognize ace's voice immediately. you hug your legs tighter into you, as if this position would somehow make you smaller and harder to see. beside you appears two heavy boots. wearing those boots is the last person you want to see right now. he taunts that thought by bending down beside you.

"y'know i actually started chasing after you right away," ace says, looking into the horizon like you do. "there was just this one crazy lady who, i swear, she had to be at least 50, she just wouldn't get her paws off of me, i could've sworn she had a husband based on-"

"why should i fucking care about this?" you whisper to him. although it was a whisper, it was said in a sharp enough tone to slice through wood. ace looked surprised, he's never heard such a tone from you. he lets out a nervous laugh in response.

"oh my god," he says, laying down on the dock with his legs dangling off the edge. he smacks his forehead with his palm. "oh my god, you're so right." his hand moves down his face and over his mouth. "ughhhhhhh." his hands rests on his chest now. you look to see him gently scratching below his adam's apple. he was nervous.

you felt guilty. ace never feels nervous. he's always so confident and prideful. you fucked up, to put it lightly.

"i'm..." you start, looking at him. "i'm sorry for, y'know, kissing you. especially out of nowhere in front of all those women. i just... ace, i've always had a thing for you and my biggest fear was that you saw me as a sister. i still don't know if you do, so that kiss could've possibly felt like kissing your sister. fuck, that's disgusting." you look away, weeping softly. "i'm sorry ace. i'm sorry for the kiss and for this over-honesty."

"what?" ace says, sitting up. "why are you apologizing?" he has an amused smile on his face. "i thought it was great! i mean, a kiss from a pretty girl who i literally travel the world with?"

"yeah, but there were still so many women in there that i'm sure you'd rather-"

"are you kidding?! first of all, based on the one interaction i had with someone at that bar, i probably would've come back with nothing and no one. and second... just, no. no, i wouldn't prefer a one-night stand with some thirty-something year old. i actually..." he began to blush. he looked down and let out a small laugh. "i actually wanted to get more, y'know, intimate with the kiss, but i didn't want to push any boundaries."

you sat there, a blushing mess. you idiot, why do you automatically assume the worst?! you even felt his hand on your hip as you kissed him!

"oh... yeah..." you say with a nervous smile. "i did feel your hand. it was nice." your blush faded as you began to think again. "so, if you'd rather me than some one-night stand, what took you so long? and, like, what do i have that they don't?"

"honestly, i had the same fear as you- being seen as a brother." he made a disgusted face at the thought of that. it made you giggle. "and the difference is that you actually know me. i know we were never that close until today, but you have so much offer and i can't believe i always threw that away."

"so," you say with a sly grin. "what exactly is it that i have to offer?" you didn't even have to know. you just wanted to.

"all i ever wanted was conversation and time."

"... that's it?"

"well yeah!" he says, a little too excited. "i mean, i can't even tell you those ladies' names, and i managed to spend an entire day with you without getting bored once. i don't care about a killer body or a doll face, those are just plus sides that you happen to have."

you smile at the fact that he thinks your face and your body are pretty.

a moment of awkward yet positive silence passes.

"so..." you ask shyly. ace raises his eyebrows at you. "you wanna kiss again?"

ace smirks, standing up quicker than you've ever seen him. he reaches his hand out for you to grab, and he pulls you up to stand face to face with him. he bites his lip as he smiles. both of his warm hands give your ass a hard smack.

"i have a better idea," he says with lust in his eyes. he throws you over his shoulder and hops onto the moby dick with ease. you've both been anticipating this night forever, and it was finally here.

who knew that this could all start with just conversation and time.

~~~~

bambi = onika

by clairo = burgers

[thewebcomicsreview]

hey, just wanted to say thanks for the rec for Cat Girl. it is the best kind of extremely uncomfortable! but it's got me musing on your note about the relevance of the cat girl element itself. I agree that it is depicting an abusive relationship, but it's clear that Peter is completely incapable of perceiving that that's what it is, because he's so far down a deeply screwed hole of ideology. (continued in a sec, hang on-)

- so Peter is the way he is because he has accepted a series of small explanations for the things in his life as seeming accurate, that has stacked up into a deeply dysfunctional worldview that he's too deep into to question at all. so I think the Literal Government Issued Cat Girl is very much a metaphor for a society-level case of "you don't question your own idea of normal". rather than address the root of the problem, a wildly unethical bandaid has been slapped on it. in other words; Peter doesn't question that his ideas are correct, when they're obviously very skewed. but the society that gave him Andi doesn't question that it is normal for people to get this twisted up in an effort to make sense of the world. of COURSE there are internet chuds, people like Peter existing is "normal". and in the process of just accepting that some people are unsalvageable, innocent people like Andi get hurt, and that's just "normal" too. Peter isn't unfixable. it's clear he could be better, WANTS to be better, because he is straight up miserable. but he doesn't consciously know that, or how to start. the decision that some people are just fundamentally screwed up and there's nothing anyone can do about it doesn't just hurt him, it lets him hurt the people around him. Andi is, metaphorically, everyone else being tossed under the bus alongside Peter by the simple act of treating him like he's just inherently a shitty person.

Man, this is a long ask! If I were the author of Cat Girl, I'd be honored to see someone spend so much time thinking about it. But I don't think I agree, exactly.

Peter wants to "be a good person", yes, but his understanding of what a "good person" is is completely self-centered. Him calling Andi "Yua" while talking over her trying to explain that she does in fact have a name is obviously establishing him as a douche, but it's also worth noting that "Yua" is a Japanese name. He's thinking of her as an anime waifu and not a person (or, given the first results when I google "Yua", a porn star, but maybe it's a Breath of Fire 2 reference)

And while he falls into depressive self-loathing after she complains about not having a change of clothes, his internal monologue is entirely about himself. At no point, ever, does Peter even consider that Andi has feelings or is anything other than a reflection on him.

When he locks her in a closet, his most overtly abusive act, he starts crying because he feels bad about what a bad person he is, but even while he's crying he's simultaneously blocking the door, which is a very literal depiction of their relationship. His angsting about being a good person is not his way out of the problem, it is the problem. He never even once considers being nice to Andi because she'll like it, it's entirely "I don't want to force her to have sex with me (because that would make me feel bad), but maybe if I'm nice to her she'll initiate the sex". And he doesn't even care about the sex itself, just the implicit validation of being Confirmed Good By A Girl.

Peter is the way he is because his morality is entirely self-centered. Andi is a way for him to prove his morality to himself (well, try to and fail), not an actual person whose feelings he's ever considered except for if she hates him or not. That's what makes him such an interesting villain, he keeps concocting a story in his head where he's the poor sweet babu trying his best and never stops doing that to let his girlfriend out of the closet.

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 5: You Don't Even Know

Collaboration with my one and only, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: The road ahead after your surgery is not as smooth as you'd hoped. That means only one thing: boyfriend Eddie to the rescue.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, angst, hurt/comfort, body image issues, therapy session

WC: 6.3k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

You take a deep breath before you speak. This could be the end of everything; your relationship with Eddie fizzling out faster than it sparked. With just one confession, you could destroy the best thing that ever happened to you. Yet something pushes you to forge ahead; you’re unsure if it’s courage or stupidity. 

“My cousin’s been staying with us,” you start. “She’s never been nice to me; kind of a bully, actually. The night of the…earthquake…she asked me if I was still dancing, and when I said yes, she just laughed and said, ‘I thought ballerinas were supposed to be skinny.’

“I went to the studio that night—I know where the owner keeps her spare key—and I brought a bottle of vodka with me. I just sat there and drank until the room was spinning, trying to forget what she said. And then everything started shaking and rattling, and by the time I realized it wasn’t just in my head, a beam fell from the ceiling and landed right on my leg.” The confession pours out of you, shame filling your body until it’s too stifling to ignore. “It sounds so stupid now that I say it out loud.”

Eddie rests his hand on top of yours, giving a little squeeze. “‘S not stupid, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb along your trembling knuckles. “I mean, I completely disagree with you, but that’s because I can clearly see how gorgeous you are.”

“Eddie…” you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his compliment, but the whine in your voice gives away your disbelief. 

“No, I’m serious. But I get it, I think.” He scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Because the thought of you seeing my scars, like, up close and personal…make me so fuckin’ nervous.” He uses his free hand to tug at the hem of his shirt as though he’s subconsciously trying to cover himself up more. 

You shake your head. “It’s impossible for any part of you to not be beautiful,” you tell him. Just the thought of him without his shirt on makes you flush with warmth, reminding you of another reason you wish your injuries could just heal. 

“Well, Sunshine, now you know how I feel about you.” Eddie leans in and plants a smacking kiss on your lips, punctuating it with a mwah! “Beautiful, beautiful, my beautiful girl.”

“I just can’t believe that a guy like you thinks I’m beautiful,” you muse, equally to yourself and to him. 

Your boyfriend—God, it feels good to refer to him like that—stares at you incredulously. “A guy like me?” he scoffs. 

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Um, kinda?” Eddie gives a little laugh. “I mean, I’m a decent dude, but I’m not some cool, macho guy like…I dunno, Steve Harrington, or something.”

You squeeze his hand and smile. “Don’t want Steve Harrington. I want Eddie Munson: the sweetest, bravest, most incredible man I’ve ever met.” You cock your head teasingly. “Unless you think I should be with Steve? I mean, since he’s so cool and everything—”

“Nope!” Eddie chirps, bringing your hand to his mouth and fake biting it with his lips. “All mine. Forever. No refunds.” The brightness in his eyes fades to concern when he notices that you’ve stopped giggling. “Talk to me, babe. ‘S okay.”

You purse your lips in an attempt to stave off the tears. “I just…I can’t believe I ruined my dream because of some bullshit comment.”

Eddie kisses your palm, sending tingles down your spine. “Hey, hey…there’s still hope. Don’t throw it away yet, baby. You’ve got one more surgery plus physical therapy. And your beautiful boyfriend will be there with you every step of the way.”

Giving him a small smile, you bring Eddie’s hand up to your lips and press kisses on any inch of skin not covered by his chunky rings. “Promise? Promise that my beautiful boyfriend will be there?”

“I’ll be cheering you on the whole time. Might even bring pom poms and everything.”

That gets a small burst of laughter out of you, which Eddie takes as a win. He laces his fingers with yours and runs his thumb over the soft skin on the back of your hand. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” he vows. 

After Eddie leaves (he has to practically be chased out by the hospital staff), you’re sitting in your room and flipping through a magazine from January 1982. There’s a soft knock at the door, and you look up with a genuine smile. 

Mandy walks over to you, stapled sheets of paper in her outstretched hand. 

“What’s that?”

She smiles kindly. “Given the nature of your injuries and the trauma from your second surgery, Dr. Sanoj is recommending that you speak to a therapist,” she explains. “There’s a signed referral and a list of recommended—”

“Don’t need it,” you interrupt coldly. You feel bad; the nurse hasn’t done anything to warrant such a frigid attitude, but you can’t bite it back. “I’m fine. I just need to get through this last surgery and I’ll be on my way.”

“Okay,” Mandy says, keeping her grin a bit more tight-lipped, “well, I’ll just leave it here,” she places it on the dresser with a small pat, “in case you change your mind.”

The second she leaves, you lunge for the papers, crinkling them into a ball and tossing them in the nearby trash can. Therapy? It isn’t bad enough that your leg is busted; now they think there’s something wrong with your brain, too? No, you don’t need therapy. You need to be home, in your own bed, getting back to life as you once knew it. Therapy is only going to keep you stuck in the past; you need to move forward. 

When Eddie walks into your room the next morning, it brings a much needed smile to your face. Sleeping in a hospital is next to impossible, and now after so long like that, you’re pretty sure you don’t remember what a good night’s rest feels like. 

“There’s my girl,” Eddie says as he takes a seat in the chair next to your bed. “How ya feeling today?”

“Better now,” you tell him. He slips his hand into yours and leans back as you channel surf, trying to find something decent to watch. “It’s a shame the soaps aren’t on during the weekends.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I can recount everything you’ve missed,” Eddie says, throwing you a wink. He leans even farther back, the chair resting on just its back two legs when something catches his notice in his peripheral vision. Lowering the chair, he takes a proper look at what caught his eye, and sees a few pieces of crumpled paper in the trash can. It’s mostly too folded and creased to see what they are, but the word “therapists” is bolded on a crinkle facing his direction. 

Eddie doesn’t want to be nosy, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he pulls the paper ball from the garbage. You’re too focused on the episode of Alf and laughing at the alien puppet making another joke about eating a cat to notice Eddie smoothing out the papers in his lap. 

“Sunshine?”

“What, you’ve never seen Alf?” you ask, never taking your eyes off of the television. “He’s not actually going to eat any cats.”

“No, it’s just…what’s this?”

Turning your head away from the screen, your face drops when you see what Eddie’s been looking at. It was bad enough the hospital staff thought that you had something wrong with your brain, now your new boyfriend is going to see all this and think it too. 

“They, uh… Um, Mandy brought me that yesterday. I guess the doctor wanted me to talk about all the shit that’s gone down with a therapist.” You shrug, leaning back against your pillows. “But I don’t need that.”

Eddie doesn’t want to push you. He knows you’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions, but he’s worried. 

“You need to take care of yourself, baby.” Eddie sighs and gives your hand a squeeze. “Please.”

Frowning, you look down at the papers in his lap and then back up to his face. “Why do you think I’m not taking care of myself? I’m in the hospital. Where else could I go to get better taken care of?”

“No,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “I mean, mentally.”

A bubble of anger starts to grow in your chest. “Why does everyone think I’m crazy?”

“Sunshine, no one thinks you’re crazy. There’s just been so much happening in such a short period of time. You’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions and this could help you feel better.”

“Eddie, there are people who lost their homes. Their loved ones. Why would a therapist want to talk to someone who’s only hurt because she was wasted at the wrong time?”

“Baby,” Eddie says, his voice kind but firm. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just…I’d like you to reconsider. This isn’t because anyone thinks you’re crazy. I promise. It’s because you’ve been through a lot, sweetheart. Yeah, a lot of us have, but I’m concerned about you right now. It would make me feel better.”

You don’t intend to snap at him. He’s only trying to look out for you, and you know that. But it also feels like he isn’t listening to you and it’s frustrating. “Why don’t you go to therapy then?”

“I…I do.”

That shuts you up. Shame fills your body as you shift yourself on the bed. You were just crapping all over therapy and talking about it being for crazy people when your perfectly wonderful boyfriend sees a therapist. 

“I didn’t know that,” you admit in a soft voice. 

“Well,” Eddie says, scratching the back of his neck. “‘S not like it’s something I go around talking about to hot girls I’m forced to be roommates with.”

His humor takes some of the sting out of the shame. He can’t be too upset with you then. 

“I started going after my dad left. All the social workers said it would be a good idea for me. I begged Wayne not to take me ‘cause I didn’t wanna spend time with some strange adult that I didn’t know. Besides…I felt the same way as you. Like, I have my uncle, who actually takes care of me. Why should a shrink waste her time talking to me when she could be helping kids who didn’t have anyone? But I’ll tell you what. It helped. I became less angry, more happy. Therapy turned me into the sexy goofball you see here before you.”

A small laugh bubbles out of you and it brings a smile to Eddie’s face. 

“Please, baby?” Eddie gives you his best puppy dog eyes and you let out an annoyed groan.

“You know I’m a sucker for those eyes! That’s not fair. But fine. Yes, I will go to therapy.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Eddie picks up your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I’m proud of you.”

“I didn’t do anything yet,” you argue, but he just silences your protest by pushing his lips against yours. You melt into him, reveling in the warmth you feel when he’s near. 

“So, how are you feeling today?”

Well, isn’t that the million dollar question. 

You look at the therapist, Sophie, sitting in the chair opposite the sofa you’re slouched into. “I dunno.”

You expect her to purse her lips, maybe peer over her glasses in admonishment, but she just nods. “Makes sense. You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal for our emotions to be scattered after a while.”

“Mhm,” you chew on the thought, trying to hide your surprise. “Sometimes…like, okay, I have this boyfriend. His name is Eddie, and we actually met here. In the hospital.”

Sophie offers an encouraging smile. “Tell me about Eddie.”

And so you do. You tell her everything—minus the whole alternate dimension ordeal—noticing the way your lips tug upwards as you describe how loving and caring he is. 

“But even with him, it’s like…things that made me happy just…don’t anymore. And I don’t wanna pretend like I’m happy when I’m sad, but I also don’t wanna constantly bring him down, y’know?”

“Absolutely. Have you talked to Eddie about this?”

“Kind of? He’s the one who encouraged me to see you, actually,” you admit. “I’m not used to asking people for help.”

Sophie nods again, kindness evident in her expression. “It’s hard to do. But I promise you, you’re stronger because of it. And talking to a therapist also allows you to talk to Eddie about happier things, because your mind won’t be so preoccupied.”

You consider this. “I never thought about it that way,” you muse. “Thank you.”

“That’s my job.” Sophie grins. “Now, whenever you’re ready, we can talk about your injury.”

There’s a long pause before you speak again, swallowing slowly. “Okay,” you finally say. “I’m ready.”

In the week since you began therapy you don’t feel like your journey is over by any means. But there’s a certain lightness about you. It could be just knowing that Sophie is kind and compassionate and willing to listen to you. Maybe it’s because, like she said, you could talk with Eddie about happier things now. Whatever it is, it’s led you to feeling more prepared for your final surgery. 

Laying in your bed in your room, your mom and Eddie sit with you while you wait for them to bring you down to the operating room. Your mom works on some knitting where she sits near the foot of the bed, and Eddie holds your hand from his spot up near your head. 

“This is it,” Eddie says, giving your hand a squeeze. “After this, it’s a few days in recovery and then you get to go home.”

Shrugging one shoulder, you reply, “But I’ll still have, like, a million years of PT.”

“And I’ll be cheerin’ you on the whole time. Pom-poms and everything.” 

The mental picture of Eddie shaking pom-poms while you’re trying to get strength back in your leg has you letting out a small giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” your boyfriend asks.

“Nothing,” you answer. “Just glad to have my own personal cheerleader.”

“Well, you need some motivation. If it’s not me coming up with little dance routines to entertain you, what would it be?” Eddie’s smirk is playful and it makes you want to kiss it off his face. Which reminds you of what that other motivation could be. 

“I think I’ll be plenty motivated,” you tell him in a hushed tone. “Gotta get some strength back so you and I can have some fun.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and it takes everything in him not to look over his shoulder at your mom. But the way his eyes dart in her direction has you basically reading his thoughts. Are you crazy? In front of your mother?

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. “You and I have fun all the time, Sunshine.”

Your mom’s voice startles the both of you. “We both know that’s not what she means.”

The door to your room opens and two orderlies come in to wheel you down for surgery.

“Oh, thank God,” you breathe out, willing your face to cool down. 

“We’ll be right here when you wake up,” Eddie promises, and your mom squeezes your hand, careful of the IV. “Just, maybe wake up a little faster this time?”

You giggle and roll your eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

Eddie looks like he wants to say something else, but he just manages a tiny smile before the nurses take you into the OR. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Just a few more hours and I’ll be reunited with Eddie. 

“Sunshine? Sunshine, are you awake?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice sounds too distant, and you practically have to claw your way out of the anesthesia fog back to reality’s surface. 

“I think she’s starting to wake up,” you hear him saying, though you’re not sure who he’s talking to. “Sunshine, take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You take that as permission to fall back to sleep, body not yet ready to shake off the drowsiness. When you wake up again, your throat feels like sandpaper. 

“E-Eddie?” you manage, wincing at the scratchiness in your voice. 

“Sunshine,” he breathes a slow exhale of relief, rushing to your bedside. He grabs your hand and rests his forehead against it. “Baby, oh, thank fucking God. I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up again.”

You use your tongue to coat your chapped lips with whatever saliva you can, though it isn’t much. “Water.” It’s all you can choke out. 

Eddie nods, reaching under his seat and grabbing a half-full bottle of Poland Spring. “Hope you don’t mind my cooties,” he jokes lamely, but you’re too parched to even pay attention. You chug the remaining water as quickly as you can, which isn’t too fast, considering all of your muscles are still weakened. 

“Th-Thanks,” you mumble as he takes the empty bottle from you. “Was it…did it work?”

Eddie smiles. “Doc said it was a success. Just a couple months of PT and you’ll be good as new.”

“‘Good as new?’” you question disbelievingly. 

His cheeks tinge pink. “Okay, maybe that’s just me hyping you up. But the rest of it was word-for-word.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “‘M so glad you’re okay, Sunshine. Don’t wanna lose you now that you’re mine.”

You squint to try and read the clock hanging on the wall. “What time is it?”

“3:45 AM.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “How are you still awake?!”

Eddie chuckles, kissing your hand. “Your mom and I have been taking turns grabbing coffee. That’s actually where she is now.” 

As if on cue, your mom appears with two steaming paper cups, one in each hand. She almost drops them both when she sees you. Her eyes well with tears, and she’s rendered speechless, putting down the coffee cups to pull you into a hug. 

“Hi, Mom,” you say as she squeezes you gently in her arms. 

“Oh, my baby,” she coos. Reluctantly, she lets go and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You look good! And the doctor said that everything—”

“Eddie told me,” you say with a sheepish grin. “Can I, um, have one of those coffees?”

Both your mom and Eddie give you skeptical looks. Eddie cocks an eyebrow while your mother crosses her arms over her chest; a long cry from the loving embrace you just received. 

“Coffee? Sweetheart, you just got out of surgery,” your mom says, as if you’d forgotten.

“Yeah, and they make you fast before surgery, not after,” you retort. 

“Why do you want coffee?” Eddie asks. 

Shrugging your shoulders, you find that your muscles are more tense and stiff from laying down so long than you’d previously thought. “Wanna stay up and talk with you guys.”

“You need coffee for that?” your mom questions, slightly defensive. 

“When I’m tired I do,” you grit out, getting a little irritated by all the questions. You just want some damn coffee, you’re not asking them to score you some cocaine or anything. 

“Sunshine,” Eddie says in that tone of voice that begs you to agree with him. “You need to rest. Your body’s just been through a lot—not to mention all it’s been through before. Either me or your mom will always be here when you wake up. You don’t have to talk with us now. Try and get some sleep.”

The instinct is to push back, to challenge him that you know your body and what it can handle. But between his adamant voice, him having a point, plus the fact that you really are tired, you cave. Settling back against your pillows—but not without a small huff so they’re both aware of your dissatisfaction—you make yourself comfortable in the small hospital bed. After a moment of deliberation, you hold your hand out towards Eddie.

“Compromise. I’ll try and sleep if you hold my hand until I get there.”

A soft smile overtakes Eddie’s features as he slips his ring-clad hand into your own. “I think I can live with that arrangement.”

The hospital needs to keep you for a few more days before you can be discharged. You can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel, but you feel like you have to run for it and running isn’t something you’re capable of at the moment. The good news is that you’ve been moved back into your old room and get to share with Max again. Her condition has definitely improved since you last saw her, but you didn’t know her before any of this so it’s hard to tell if she’s back to her usual self or not. The way she teases Eddie for never leaving your side has you thinking this is her regular ol’ personality shining through. 

Someone comes in everyday to help you with physical therapy. Sometimes it’s a breeze, other times you want to punch the poor guy helping you when he says, “Just five more minutes!”

You do all of this on a leg that was shattered not too long ago, you think bitterly. See how slow five minutes really is. 

“So, I haven’t seen this physical therapist guy,” Max says one day after your session, “but I’m guessing he has two perfectly good legs that weren’t crushed and operated on?”

“You would be correct,” you say as you resituate yourself in bed. Asshole, you think—even though you know it’s not true and he’s a very nice man.

“Wait, me or the guy?” Max asks. Oh, shit. You must’ve said it out loud by accident.

“Never you, Max. Sometimes I feel you’re the only one who gets me,” you tell her.

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Eddie says as he strolls into the hospital room, a gaggle of four teenage boys and one girl following in behind him. He plants a smacking kiss to your scalp and you giggle. “How’re you doing, Red?” he asks Max. 

“Pretty good,” she says, a smile tugging on her lips. She pauses for a second. “Not as good as you two, though,” she adds mischievously. 

Before you can ask her to elaborate, one of the boys takes her hand and kisses her cheek, and you watch her melt in his embrace. That must be Lucas, you surmise. 

“Yep, this is Lucas,” Max chirps, beaming. It’s almost as if she—

“Hey, Casanova,” a scrawny, floppy haired boy calls from behind Eddie, “you wanna introduce us to your girlfriend?”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, of course. Guys, this is Sunshine. My girlfriend.” He enunciates the title proudly. “Sunshine, this is Mike Wheeler and Lucas Sinclair. You’ve already had the displeasure of meeting Henderson,” he stops to see Dustin flip him the bird, “and these are two of their friends, Will Byers and Jane Hopper. But, uh, I’ve been told that she also goes by El.”

“Nice to meet you all.” You offer your real name, trying to keep Sunshine as Eddie’s special nickname for you. “Eddie never stops talking about how amazing his friends are, so it’s great to put faces to the names.”

“Well, Eddie hasn’t stopped telling us about this incredible girl he calls Sunshine,” Lucas says from Max’s bedside, teasing Eddie more than you. “We figured we should get to know her for ourselves.”

“And see if she was real,” Mike pipes up, the tiniest semblance of a grin on his face. 

Eddie throws his arms up in exasperation. “Jesus H. Christ! I mean, Henderson met her, and you still didn’t believe me?”

“I knew she was real,” Dustin offers, raising two fingers slightly. 

“Thank y—”

“However, you guys weren’t dating then, so I needed confirmation that she’s actually your girlfriend.”

Eddie grits his teeth and rolls his eyes. “I hate you all so much.”

The boy who Eddie introduced as Will Byers gives you a small smile. “You’re a dancer, right?”

“I used to be,” you murmur, trying not to think of how basic flexibility tasks are now too strenuous for you to complete. “Maybe I will be again someday.”

El sits by your bedside and gently touches your hand before glancing up at Eddie. “She is beautiful,” she says to him, and Eddie’s entire face flushes pink. 

“Okay, thank you all for thoroughly embarrassing me,” Eddie grumbles. “Why don’t you little sheep go take Red on a field trip to the cafeteria so I can get some time with my girl?”

Mike frowns. “But I’m not—”

“Wheeler, I swear to Ozzy that if you try and say you’re not hungry, I’m going to tell every girl in this town about the time you accidentally wore one of Nancy’s blouses to school.”

That gets them moving, the gang helping Max into a wheelchair. As she approaches Eddie, she reaches out to him pulls him close enough for her to whisper. 

“Just tell her, you idiot,” she says firmly. 

Eddie’s startled by her frankness. “Tell who, what?”

“Tell Sunshine that you love her.”

“How did you—okay, we’re gonna need to talk about this later,” he stammers, ushering the kids out into the hallway. He plops on top of the hospital bed and leans up, kissing you until you’re smiling too hard to continue. 

“I like your friends,” you tell him once your lips part. “Especially Lucas. He seems really sweet with Max.”

“Yeah, that boy’s got it bad,” Eddie jokes, hoping you don’t call him out on his hypocrisy. 

Luckily, you seem to skim over Eddie’s own head-over-heels behavior. “Speaking of Max—what did she say to you when she was leaving?”

“N-Nothing, just some weird freshman humor I guess,” he stammers. Now would be the opportune moment to admit his true feelings, but he can’t work up the courage. Soon, he tells himself. I’ll tell her soon. 

The day that seemed like it would never come has finally arrived. Your discharge papers should be brought up at any moment for you to sign off on, then you’re good to go. It’s been so long you almost forget what your own bedroom looks like. What you do remember is that your bed is big enough to fit both you and Eddie in it. 

Speak of the devil… Eddie plops down next to you where you’re seated on your hospital bed. A flowy sundress was the easiest item to get on without irritating your legs and your boyfriend hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you since he’s seen it. 

“Excited to be going home?” Max asks from her bed.

“I am,” you say. “It feels weird, honestly. I haven’t even seen the sun in months, except for what peeks through the window. Now I get to actually step outside.”

“Well,” Eddie says. “You can be wheeled out into the sun. Hospitals won’t just let you walk out.” 

“They need to stop fussing over me—they’ve done it long enough,” you say, waving a dismissive hand towards the larger hospital outside your door. 

“Now it’s my turn,” Eddie says, tugging down the sleeve of your dress to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. The feeling of his lips on your skin sends a shiver up your spine, which Eddie notices with a look of glee. 

“Ya know,” you say, nudging Eddie gently in the ribs. “You and Wayne can come stay at my house. I know the trailer’s almost all fixed up now and that you might be able to move back in a few weeks, but at my place at least you’d have a real bed instead of Gareth’s couch. And Wayne would have the whole guest room and bathroom to himself.”

Eddie’s brow pinches in slight confusion. “You only have the one guest room, though, right? So, how would I also have a bed?”

“Oh my God,” Max groans. “I’m pretty sure your girlfriend is saying you can sleep in her bed with her, Loverboy.”

Eddie’s face tinges with pink as he looks from her to you. “I-Is that what you meant?”

“Yeah,” you say, a shy smile quirking up the corners of your mouth. “Only if you want to, of course. I get it if you’d rather stay with your best friend and not want to lug all your stuff around when you’re just going to have to do it again in a few weeks.”

“No, no,” Eddie says quickly, shaking his hand as he lifts your hand in his own. “I would love to come stay with you. Gareth’s great but if I have to try and fall asleep to him playing his damn video games on more time, I’m gonna shove his drumsticks somewhere in his body. And his mom’s been driving Wayne crazy, too. She doesn’t like having beer in the house and she practically force feeds the man vegetables when all he wants is meat.” 

“Guess we’ll be roomies again, huh?” The smile is starting to ache your cheeks, but you couldn’t care less. Eddie goes to reply, but he’s cut off by Mandy stepping into the room with a clipboard full of papers. 

“And here we are,” the peppy nurse says. “Everything is all good to go and I just need you to sign by the X’s.”

“Gladly,” you murmur as you practically snatch the pen off of the clipboard. 

“And your chariot awaits,” Mandy says once you hand the completed papers back to her. An orderly comes in pushing a wheelchair and Eddie’s quick to help you get settled in it. 

“Oh,” you say when Eddie begins to start pushing you. When you gesture towards Max, he wheels you over so you’re able to take the girl’s pale hand in your own. “I really liked being your roommate, Max. And as long as I can get someone to schlep me around, I’ll be here to visit you. And when you get out, we’re gonna come up with schemes to get our boyfriends to buy us stuff.” This is said with a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you glance up at Eddie.

“I already have a few tricks that work for that,” Max says. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you my ways.”

You chuckle and give her hand a soft squeeze before letting Eddie wheel you out of the room and out of the hospital for your first time in months. So much has happened and changed since you first went in. You have all these new friends and the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. The dark days you’ve gone through would have been far darker were it not for them. 

“How is it?” Eddie asks as he helps you into your mom’s car. It was much easier to get you into this than up in Eddie’s van with your injuries. “Life on the outside?”

“You make it sound like I was serving time in a prison.”

“As you should, you thief.” Eddie closes the passenger side door before you can ask him what he means, but he picks right back up where he left off when he slides into the driver’s seat. “For stealing my heart.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you say through a laugh. “I notice you save the corny and cheesy stuff until we’re alone.”

“Well, duh,” Eddie says as he starts the car. “Can’t have everyone knowing the resident freak is a moony-eyed schoolboy over his girlfriend.”

“Schoolboy, huh?” you question with a smirk. “Wouldn’t happen to have a uniform, would you?”

“Who would’ve thought my Sunshine is kinky?”

You slowly lean over to kiss the spot below his ear. “Just wait until I get the all clear from the doctor,” you tease. 

“Fuck, Sunshine,” Eddie hisses, adjusting himself in his pants. “Y’can’t do this to me.” 

“Sorry,” you shrug, leaning back in the seat and getting comfortable, or as comfortable as you can be given the throbbing in your leg. 

“Real convincing,” he grumbles, but he presses a wet kiss to your cheek before pulling away from the hospital. With the building literally and figuratively in the rearview mirror, a weight is lifted from your shoulders. You’re free. 

Well, almost. 

Though you’re no longer bound to the hospital, you still have physical therapy three times a week. It’s exhausting and often disheartening, especially compared to your agility before the accident. 

Eddie, as always, is your saving grace. He’s with you every step of the way. Usually, his enthusiasm motivates you, but on one particular day, your frustration gets the better of you. 

You’re trying—and utterly failing—to keep your balance on your bad leg when Eddie calls out, “you got this, babe; I believe in you!”

“Stop it!” you snap, putting your weight back on your stronger foot. “Just…just stop lying to me, Eddie!” Tears well up in your eyes, and you hastily brush them away. 

His brows crease in confusion. “I’m not lying to you,” he insists, hopping off of the equipment he’s been sitting on. “Sunshine, you’re amazing. I can’t believe how much progress you’ve made.”

“It’s true,” your physical therapist, Paul, pipes up. “You’ve exceeded all expectations. It’s remarkable, actually.”

“Then why can’t I even balance on this foot? I used to be able to do pirouettes and a la seconds without a problem, and now I’m hobbling around like a little old lady!” At this rate, you’d never be able to make a comeback to dance. You’d be lucky if you could walk without tripping over your own feet. 

Eddie takes your hands in his, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’ve gotta cut yourself some slack,” he gently reminds you. “You’re only human—a human who happened to be injured in a serious, um, earthquake.” His eyes meet Paul’s and they share a moment of recognition before the therapist gives you two a moment of privacy. 

“Sunshine, come here.” Eddie takes a seat in a chair and gently maneuvers you into his lap. One of his arms wraps securely around your waist while the other traces patterns on top of your sweatpant-covered thigh. “I know you’re frustrated. Have you been talking about it in therapy?”

“Yeah,” you say. There’s a moment of you picking at the collar of Eddie’s Dio t-shirt before you continue speaking. “Sophie encourages me. But we also talk about what life would be like if I never get back to my old strength.”

“And what would that look like?” Eddie asks.

Sighing, you shake your head before burying it in Eddie’s neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” you mumble against his skin. 

“Hey.” Eddie rubs one hand soothingly up and down your back. “You’re still you no matter what, sweetheart. I know you want to get back to where you were before the accident, but even if you can’t, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know,” you say. And logically, you do. But the emotional part of your brain can’t seem to accept that. It’s revolting against the idea of you not being the immaculate dancer that you were before. But you’ve been through a lot and you need to give yourself grace—dear lord, Sophie’s words are starting to sink in. 

“I fell for you when you couldn’t even get out of your bed,” Eddie reminds you. “I didn’t give a shit one way or the other because I was too busy looking at how beautiful you are and mesmerized by your kindness.”

“Eddie,” you say with a shake of your head. 

“What? You don’t believe me? Trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. I just think you’re trying to make me feel better,” you admit with a shrug. 

“I mean, I am, but only by telling you the truth. Sunshine, I don’t think you understand everything that you’ve done for me. When I was rolled into that room, everyone thought I was a murderer, but you were nice to me from the moment I came to. You gave me your jello, for Christ sake. You were so kind. You didn’t even hesitate.”

“You helped me too, you know.” Moving your gaze up from the pale expanse of his neck, you meet his eyes as you look up at him from beneath your eyelashes. “Every single time I felt like crying, you made me smile. I couldn’t have gotten through these shitty days without you.”

“We make a good team, huh?” Eddie asks you, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “Look at us. We started off as strangers and now…I think I love you.”

The admission has tears springing to your eyes and it’s the first time in a while they’re not from frustration. The grip you have on Eddie tightens, as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear into thin air after he’s made this confession.

“You love me?” The words come out barely louder than a breath, but he still hears them. 

“Yes,” Eddie says, more confident in his answer now that it’s already out there. “I love you. So fucking much, Sunshine.”

“I love you too.” The words feel right falling from your lips; like you were always meant to say them to him in this moment. Leaning forward, you let your forehead rest against his. Slightly chapped lips meet your own and the two of you exchange the softest and lightest of kisses. 

“All right, my love,” Eddie laughs. “Y’ready to kick some more ass?”

You look into his beautiful brown eyes and nod. “Yeah,” you murmur, clearing your throat to stand firmer in your answer. “I got this.”

--

taglist: @thebrookemunson, @mystars123, @h-ness1944, @hazydespair, @ajkamins, @aysheashea, @jasminelafleur, @brittney69, @arsonfrogger, @brassreign, @lunarzstarz, @aftermidnightwriting, @justtryingtobecreative, @micheledawn1975, @kailynn-exe @afunkyfreshblog @fangirling-4-ever @crimsonsabbath @babyexpertlampskeleton @whenshelanded @ches-86 @acmbooksfilmtelevisionandreads

[jinisnuggets]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕜'𝕤 𝕄𝕪 𝕃𝕒𝕤𝕥 ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖

Pairings: Vampire Roommate Seonghwa! X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre: Angst, Some fluff, Smut, Vampire AU

Warnings: Seonghwa vampire!, Yn has an ex, bit suggestive, brief mention of cockwarming, big dick seonghwa, swear words, quick sex.

Synopsis: After a long day of knowing nothing about Seonghwa, you arrive back home in disappointment only to be greeted by one of your roommate's deepest… darkest… secrets…

Seonghwa and you have been roommates ever since college, you really can't complain about it, Seonghwa has always been such a kind person and he always did anything for you.

He never questioned you and stayed by your side every moment, he was such a sweetheart. Food was always ready when you came back from work, the dishes were washed and organized in their place, and the house was sparkly clean. How could someone just be so perfect?

***

"Seonghwa?" You called for the 3rd time in a row.

You were starting to grow concerned as your roommate didn't answer your calls, you texted him but you were left unread, you even called him but the phone went straight to voicemail.

Was he perhaps out somewhere where service was bad? Being the weekend, it didn't make sense for him to be at work, you both were off on weekends so if one of you wasn't home it meant there had been plans, but you guys always told each other so why hadn't he said anything this time?

The more you thought about it the more your head spiraled, your head hurt.. just nothing about the situation made sense, absolutely nothing added up.

You texted Seonghwa what you were originally gonna tell him in person but couldn't as you couldn't get ahold of him. If nothing bad happened to him he'd see the message eventually.

"Hey Seonghwa, I don't know when you'll see this but I left some food in the fridge, I have plans with the girls today and will be out for a while. I'll see you later at home."

You put your phone in your bag and sighed, knowing your roommate would text back immediately after reading the text, so you didn't bother to silence your phone like you normally did, you made your way out and picked up all of your friends.

Of course they questioned you about Seonghwa who they normally referred to as your "boyfriend". You didn't end up telling them that you hadn't seen him that morning, but instead just said that he has been good and everything was normal between you two, although the more you talked about him the more concerned you grew.

"You know Yn, I sometimes feel kinda off about him." One of your friends said as you looked in the rearview mirror to look at them.

"What do you mean?"

You said in a calm voice, half shaky from fear of what they were about to say.

"He just sometimes seems odd, when we hang out at your place he normally doesn't come down until an hour or two later to greet us. His hair is always messy and he looks tired, he's out of breath and sweaty, we also normally hear loud sounds coming from his room."

Your heart stopped as you listened to your friends words, everything added up to one thing. Messy hair, tired, sweaty, loud sounds. What did this mean? Was Seonghwa seeing someone? How had you never noticed?

You felt your chest tightening as you started to come back to reality. It felt difficult to accept the fact that Seonghwa might be dating someone already, someone who wasn't you. It's all you ever imagined…

___________

You met Seonghwa in college, when you were both assigned to a dorm together, your first initial thought of him was how handsome he was, how could someone be so gentle and perfect?

You guys became best friends quickly, you guys stayed up playing games, building Legos, watching movies, everything seemed ideal. Although you had a boyfriend at that time, Seonghwa was like your older brother who you loved dearly, you guys were just friends. That's what you thought all up until your boyfriend dumped you.

Those cold words that you cried over for so long, but no matter how many days and months you cried, Seonghwa was always next to you, gently rubbing your back and encouraging you as you cried. He never stopped you, all you remember is his deep, soft voice saying everyday:

"Cry all you want, I will be here every moment of it.."

You realized during those hard times how much you loved Seonghwa. He wasn't like a brother, he wasn't just a best friend, he was like your boyfriend to you… since those days, you looked at Seonghwa, all you could think of is the reason why you liked him, everyday he was a reminder to you, on why you fell in love with him.

His kindness, gentleness, everything about him was just perfect, he never argued, never yelled at you, never got mad at you, all he ever did was listen and encourage you. The more you thought about it the more he seemed a bit too good to be true…

Now, hearing all the possibilities, your head starts going blank. How could Seonghwa already have a love interest without you noticing? Your heart broke into a million pieces as you closed your eyes and accepted the truth.

"Yn? Are you okay?"

Your friend questioned in a concerned pitch, feeling uneasy by your sudden silence.

"Yeah, I'm fine… so what's the plan?"

___________

As you clicked open the front door and entered the house, you were uneased by the sudden wave of silence.

"Seonghwa?" You called, half expecting a response from the familiar voice, but nothing called back to you.

You suddenly started growing angry, how could you have been so stupid to have never noticed something so obvious? How could you have been such an idiot to think that someone you were so close with would feel the same way as you did? How could you have been blinded the entire time by a lie..?

You walked upstairs, making your way to your room to pick up some clothes so you could take a warm shower, but you couldn't help but grow curious to look inside Seonghwa's room, the door was closed.. you walked closer to it, just when you put your hand on the doorknob you hesitated… would Seonghwa be mad if he figured out you looked in his room? You put all of your thoughts aside, squeezed your eyes shut and threw open the door.

Immediately, you felt a wind of cold air, shocked to see the window was wide open, the light of the moon illuminating the room, no one… no one was to be seen, but you felt as if there was another presence in the room with you.

You turned around, maybe it was all your imagination… and you were just being paranoid… after all, you weren't in the right mind at the moment.

"You're back?"

Frozen… at the familiar voice coming from behind you… You grow afraid to look back..

Seonghwa's room is in the second story of the house… No one was in that room with you just a few seconds back…

"I thought you took a while… I didn't end up having time to prepare dinner tonight.. what if we order something instead?"

A hand was placed on your shoulder, cold… so cold… this hand didn't feel like a living human's.

"Yn?"

"You… where did you go… today…?"

You couldn't hide the fear in your voice… fearing for his response… slowly turning around to face him..

"I was just enjoying the sun…"

Messy hair.. tired.. sweaty and out of breath.. perfect…

Seonghwa was smiling… he looked pale… really pale…

"Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost.."

His calm, soft voice grew from comforting to terrifying…

"I think I did…"

Seonghwa's expression changed from a smile to an upset look, he suddenly looked mad…

"I'm not a ghost… Yn…"

You walked backwards.. as he moved closer to you..

"No- Not you….!"

You hit the back of the wall, Seonghwa was dangerously close to you…

"But I'm not alive either…"

Laughs came out of his mouth when you noticed… his mouth…

Fangs…

Fangs that he never had before…

Seonghwa grabbed your arm, so tight that it hurt… he dragged you over to his room and locked the door..

"Seonghwa… what are you going to do…?"

"You know too much.."

You now suddenly felt threatened, like if Seonghwa was about to kill you…

Seonghwa took out his phone and softly spoke.

"What would you like to eat today?"

You looked at him confused, but clearly uncomfortable.

"We can eat something simple like ramen… like the old days…"

Every word he said made a chill run down your spine..

"I'm not going to hurt you… you can speak."

…

"Well then…"

***

"Fuck!"

How did this happen? You were being pressed up against Seonghwa while he was inside of you, absolutely destroying your insides.

Seonghwa was still well put together, his hair was messy yet pretty, he still had his shirt on while his pants were half down, but he had completely tricked you…

"Princess, would you mind bending towards me?"

You went from fearing for your life to Seonghwa's length being pushed inside of you harshly..

"Seonghwa..~ please… calm down I'm sorry~!"

"It's gonna take more than an apology to make up for this princess..."

He suddenly fastened his pace while pushing his full cock inside of you. Fuck he felt good, you'd be lying if you said that you had never imagined doing this with Seonghwa, you have and for years.. but imagining it is not at all similar as reality, Seonghwa was big, like huge, not just that but his girth was almost unrealistic, nothing like you had imagined.

"Seonghwa! Stop!"

You yelled, clearly not actually desiring him to stop but actually the complete opposite. After he was in you couldn't imagine him being out.

"Hwa! I'm so close! Stop!"

"Be good and cum for me princess.."

He whispered in your ear before biting it..

That's all it took for you to obey him immediately, he knew you were embarrassed but he quickly went down and licked it all out of you.

He slipped his cock out of you which made you let out a small whimper of pleasure, Seonghwa placed his dick on your stomach before allowing himself to let it all out too.

Seonghwa leaned down and kissed you, you felt all his emotions through one simple kiss, all of this was worth it after all. He slipped his dick inside of you and let himself lay down over you.

Ding Dong-

"Get up… food's here."

[sissylittlefeather]

A/N: Ha HA! Another one done! This is the 68 Special one that I promised y'all after the poll. It goes with my series that is currently unnamed, but includes Baby, What's Your Name, Goodnight, Sweetheart and Always, Honey. There are references to all three in here. It takes place before What Kind of Question is That? and Feels Like Forever. This is angstyyy, but the way the story is in my brain, the mid section is that way and the whole story is kind of tragic, in a way. It's very Catherine/Heathcliff (they should be together but can't be for some reason). I didn't set out to write a tragic story, but there ya go. It is what it is. I hope y'all like it anyway!

Also, don't be shy. Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, kissing, ANGST

Also, I'm using Elvis gifs for this one because I like actual EP here, but if it makes you happy to imagine Austin!Elvis, do you boo-boo.

I Missed You

It's been over 3 years since you last saw Elvis. This is the longest you've been apart since you met all those years ago. You haven't seen him since he got married or became a father. He did all of those things without you and it nearly broke you. Still, you'd had your own marriage happen and fall apart, too. You wondered if you'd ever tell him that it was because of him and the fact that you never could seem to stop loving him.

The year is 1968 and you just got off the phone with a friend of yours who works in Hollywood. According to her, Elvis is going to be recording a new show soon and they're looking for audience members. She called to see if you might be interested in seeing an old friend.

No one really knows what you had with Elvis. Well, no one but your old roommate. Still, despite your long history, he never made you public like his other girlfriends. Maybe it's because keeping you a secret made the romance hotter. Or maybe it's because keeping you a secret meant he could keep you all to himself. Either way, your love affair had always been something that only the two of you really knew about.

But an opportunity to see Elvis again is hard to turn down, even with everything that's happened between you. Perhaps seeing him one last time will give you the closure you need to move on. You decide to call your friend back and see what you need to do to be in that audience.

******

Now that you're here, you start to wonder if this was a good idea. You're sitting in the audience in your new mod-style pink gingham dress with white boots and a white headband. You wonder if he will even see you in the crowd. Will he notice the pink gingham?

Your hands are starting to sweat and you wipe them on your skirt, pulling on it to try to get it to cover more of your thighs. You're not a teenager anymore and this dress is starting to feel a bit ridiculous.

One of the producers of the show comes out to explain to the audience how to react to the "applause" signs. Elvis is coming out soon and you're starting to feel a little sick at the prospect of seeing him. You don't remember the last time you were this nervous.

And then he's there. On the small square stage, right in front of you, in black leather. Your heart jumps and your warm center gets a little warmer. He looks good. Not that you expected him not to, but he looks better than you could've imagined. He breaks into That's Alright Mama and you're instantly transported back to that first show where you threw your panties on the stage to get his attention. You start to laugh a little thinking about what might happen if you did the same thing right now. You'd probably get carried out by a security guard.

He sings 4 songs and then they do a set change to him sitting down with his old band mates for a kind of casual jam session. You're still waiting for him to notice that you're there. Part of you is starting to hope that he'll never notice and you can just slink back onto a plane and go home. Seeing him has enlivened every feeling you've ever had for him and you can't help but have flashbacks to every time he's ever touched you. You long to feel his strong hands on your body, his lips on yours, his fingers and tongue doing unspeakable things between your legs. You squeeze your legs together and pray that you're not going to leave a puddle on your seat.

And then it happens. He's walking around the stage singing again and he kneels just feet from you. You're in the second row, far enough back to be out of reach, but close enough to be visible. He looks out into the audience and your eyes meet. Ever the professional performer, he only freezes for a second when he sees you. You feel like someone dumped ice water down your back and it's suddenly hard to breathe. You want to get up and run out, but you can't. And just when you think he's completely unaffected by you, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he stands up, turns away from you, and keeps singing.

But he comes back.

He walks around the stage like he's supposed to, but he always comes back to you and keeps his eyes locked onto yours for as long as possible before he has to move. Every time it happens, your heart skips a beat and you start to wonder how much more you can take. Just when you think you might melt from the intensity of his gaze, he leaves the stage and the producer comes back and says that filming is done for the day.

You sit there for a while and let the other people around you file out. Eventually you get up and head for the exit. You're one of the last people in the room as you head for the door. And then you hear someone behind you. You turn, expecting someone to tell you that you need to leave, but no.

It's him.

You stand and stare at each other for a good minute before he speaks. He asks a single question.

"Where can I find you later?"

You want to tell him to go to hell. Instead, you hear yourself say, "Hollywood Hilton, room 647."

He nods, turns, and jogs away from you back to wherever he came from. A man comes and ushers you out the exit door. You head back to your hotel in disbelief. You're not sure what you expected, but it wasn't that.

******

You're trying really hard to stop pacing in your hotel room. The clock on the night stand says 12:24am. You're still wearing the pink and white dress, mainly because you're too nervous to change into anything else, but you're barefooted now, your boots in a pile by the door. You tell yourself you are giving him until 1am and then you're going to bed. That's when you hear the knock on your door.

Your stomach tenses up and your heart jumps into your throat. You walk to the door and open it carefully. Elvis walks in quickly and closes it behind himself. You're reminded of the time he did that when you lived in the dorm and you almost laugh out loud.

"Who are you hiding from?"

"Everyone." He looks at you like no time has passed since the last time you were alone like this. He puts his hand on the side of your face and for a moment you let him. Then you move away from him.

"Don't."

"Honey, why--"

"You have a wife."

"And you have a husband. Never stopped us before."

"I don't have a husband anymore."

"All the more reason--"

"You married her, Elvis." He looks down at the floor.

"She has your baby. You're somebody's father."

"I know that."

"Then why did you come here?" He picks up your hand and kisses the inside of your palm, just like he did so many years before.

"I missed you." You want to take that hand and slap him with it. For a second, you really consider it. Instead, you pull it away from him and turn to face the window. If you look at him, you might give in.

He comes up behind you and touches your dress on your shoulder.

"You know I've always loved you in pink."

"It matches--"

"--the dress you wore on the first night. I remember."

That almost convinces you to turn around, but instead you shake his hand off your shoulder. You can't turn around. Not yet.

"Elvis, we said this was over."

"We've said that before."

"Yeah, but last time I thought we meant it."

He walks around in front of you and faces you. He seems afraid to touch you again.

"Baby, you know I could never mean it."

You cross your arms over your chest and look up at him. He looks different now, grown up and fully himself, but he's still the same boy from Memphis who said he would always be yours.

"No. Go home to your wife, Elvis."

You can see in his eyes that that stung. You immediately wish you hadn't said it, but you did and it wasn't untrue. He does have a wife to go home to and you have what? No one because you can't seem to move on from him. He's as much a part of you as you are of him.

"You know what you mean to me." You do know. But sometimes you just wish he would say the words.

You walk past him to the hotel room window and look out at the street below. They say New York is the city that never sleeps, but this town could give it a run for its money. There seems to be people everywhere. He speaks again, ripping you out of your reverie.

"You know, I could ask you the same question. Why did you come to my show?" You step back from the window and look up at the ceiling. That, you don't have an answer for. You're not even sure why you came. It's no use lying to him or yourself anymore. You turn to face him with tears in your eyes.

"I missed you."

It only takes him three steps to walk across the room and pull you into a deep and passionate kiss, his arms around you to keep you from pulling away. You know you should pull away, but you don't even try. You melt into him like snow in the rain, your mouths picking up a rhythm easily. Kissing him is familiar and satisfying and you begin to wonder why you ever stopped. You wrap your arms around his neck and let yourself get lost in him. He walks you backwards to the dresser and then lifts you up so that you're sitting on it. He runs both hands up your thighs and then grabs your hips, pulling them into his own. You break the kiss and moan softly into his mouth as you feel his hardness press into you. In a second, he has the dress up, over your head, and off. Your fingers shake as you undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and push it off of his shoulders with his jacket, letting them both fall to the floor. The whole time, he's kissing you on the neck, on your chest, and shoulder, and jawline, and lips. It almost feels like he's trying to devour you whole. In fact, he bites the skin next to your collarbone at one point hard enough that you let out a small yelp. He knows you well enough to know that's a good sound. You grab the back of his hair and pull his head backward, diving into a deep kiss with heavy tongue. He almost breaks your bra, trying to rip it off of you and your panties don't stand a chance as he tears at them and throws them to the side. The button pops off of his pants as you feverishly try to get them off of him. He slides them off his hips and to the floor, letting his erection free to land against your thigh. The sight and feel of it there elicits a moan from your mouth and a good deal of wetness from between your legs. He pulls you to the edge of the dresser and pushes himself inside you. He slams into you heatedly and you both start to sweat. You can feel your climax building around him as he pumps. He's still kissing you all over your face and neck, dipping his tongue into your mouth periodically. Your hands grip his back as your fingernails dig into his skin. As many times as you've been together, it's never felt like this before. There's a desperation and need in both of you that's completely new. You wrap your legs around him and he carries you to the bed, still inside of you. You fuck for a while with him on top of you, until you push him into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Then, you turn away from him and lower yourself onto him, holding onto his thighs for support. While you slide up and down on him, he reaches forward and makes circles with his finger on the spot between your legs that makes you cry out his name.

"Elvis, fuck!" You scream as your climax pounds into you from every angle, rushing through you from your center to your edges and back again. You turn around and push him back onto the bed. He moves himself backwards until he's fully on the bed and you can ride him easily. You're grinding your hips against him, so that he is so deep inside of you. Nothing seems to be deep enough to satisfy you tonight. You want to swallow him up and keep him there inside you. He moans and grunts while you work, obviously approaching his climax. He flips you over one last time and thrusts into you a few times before he shudders and cusses and fills you with his warmth. You're both dripping wet with sweat and covered in marks from the other's teeth and fingernails. He rolls over off of you and lays next to you, both of you breathing heavily. He picks up your hand and kisses your fingers.

"Oh, honey, I have missed you so much." He smiles at you and holds your hand on his chest. You get up and go to the bathroom, trying to forget that you just committed adultery with him. Again. When you come back, you get some panties out of your suitcase and put them on. Then, you climb back into bed, where he's arranged himself as if he's going to sleep there.

"Don't you... have to... go?" You ask tentatively. You think of his wife, probably pacing her room waiting for him to come home.

"No." He doesn't give any more detail and you don't ask. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close to him. "I'm staying here." He kisses the side of your head.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you again. This won't be the last time you're together.

He waits until he thinks you're asleep, and you almost are, when he whispers,

"I love you, baby."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101