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thepenultimateword · 3 months

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Sugar and Spice Part Two

Part One

“You’re kidding me." Villain slapped her forehead, dragging the hand slowly down her face. "Of all the thousands of henchmen I could've picked, of all the dozens of departments, I chose a culinary minion? I might as well have brought a rolling pin! Or a donut."

Villain frowned. A whole host of arguments sat on his tongue. She might have realized his department sooner if she had taken a moment to talk instead of ordering him around like a dog. Also, she'd obviously lied about Supervillain asking for him, so she only had herself to blame for this situation, and frankly, he didn't trust anything she said anymore. In fact, he was very suspicious about what she was actually doing all the way out here and why she'd tricked a henchman to come along. Not to mention she'd jeopardized his job, maybe even his life, with her selfishness.

He quickly swallowed it all down. None of it would be met well, and he didn't need to be more on Villain's bad side than he apparently already was. He could defend his power though.

"Well, maybe if let me bake you something--"

"Just shut up." Villain plopped back down on the mattress and rolled the other direction.

Henchman stared at her back for a moment. "Should I still keep watch?"

"You might as well go to bed. You’re useless to me.”

Again with the combat-superiority bias. Henchman bit his tongue. “I might not be a good fighter, but I could still wake you up if there's trouble."

"Do whatever you want."

Fine then. He threw off his shoes, kicked under the covers, and flipped toward the wall, the bed springs squeaking aggressively under his weight.

Why should he break his back helping out a villain who didn’t even appreciate it? This was just so typical villain. What a bunch of pretentious snobs flouncing around with their "special" powers and looking down on everyone else. When it came down to it, it wasn't like Villain was really any different from him. They were both pieces. She was just as much under Supervillain's thumb.

“Excuse me?” Villain snarled.

Henchman stiffened. Did he say that out loud? Which part? How much?

He wet his lips and slowly peeked toward Villain's bed but was instantly thrown down. Villain's knees dug hard into Henchman's forearms while her hands were already around his throat, squeezing just tight enough that there was room for a trickle of breath and little else, certainly not any vocals like screaming or begging. "I'm not under anyone's thumb. Got that? I'm not afraid of anyone. If I wanted, I could finish you right here."

Henchman froze. Some prey ran, some fought back, but he was of the type that went still. Like a possum playing dead or a deer in the headlights. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to. All he could really do was stare helplessly wide-eyed up at her. The ends of her hair tickled Henchman’s cheeks, and she bent close enough that he could pick out the amber specks in her molten eyes and feel the warmth of her breath across the bridge of his nose. She blinked into his gaze, and the snarl on her face softened.

She huffed. You’re just lucky I don’t have the time to clean up a body.” She unstraddled his chest and rose off the edge of the bed.

Henchman coughed a couple times and rubbing away the lingering pressure of her fingertips from his throat. "Bit of an overreaction for someone so sure of herself."

Villain whirled, red mane catching the air before floating back to her shoulders. "Do you want to die?"

Henchman smiled innocently. He was being so stupid. He knew that. But for some reason, he felt if Villain really was the sort of person who killed carelessly, she would have rid herself of him the moment he revealed the mistake. One less witness to her trip, mission, thing.

"Certainly not."

“Then shut. Up.” She flicked off the lamp on her way to her bed, blanketing them in darkness except for the sliver of street light stealing through a gap in the curtains.

“Of course, your eminence.”

Henchman curled back on his side, prey heart pounding even under the cover of freshly conjured snark. He rubbed his throat again. He was probably lucky she’d chosen a physical warning over using her powers. If there was any villain he should actually be showing respect to it was her. A primary power user. She’d been top dog of the city before Supervillain showed up and organized everything. She had the power to rearrange, but he had the power to take apart. And taking apart was so much quicker. So right hand it was.

“Villain?”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Are you running away?”

“What?” Her eyes caught the light from the street, glowing catlike. “Do you think I’m some sort of cow—”

“It’s ok if you are. I bet you could run your own city.”

She blinked.

“Supervillain’s sort of made it impossible for any sort of natural growth in the organization. He kills people for their mistakes, he pits his subordinates against each other, he doesn’t value any of tertiary power types; sometimes it feels like he doesn’t care about the strength of the organization as long as everyone else stays beneath him. It’s not like he’s at risk of being taken out by anyone. Heroes or otherwise.” Henchman caught himself, quickly shaking out his rant. “I’m just saying that it makes sense to me why you might want to leave. Do your own thing.”

"That's not any of your business." She closed her eyes again and didn't say any more.

Henchman forced his own eyes shut. Despite being tired, his thoughts were filled with Supervillain. His insides twisted into knots, raising a light bout of nausea. He couldn't go back. Henchman might be too valuable to kill, but there was no guarantee. Supervillain's decisions weren't always logical. Henchman was actually a little glad to be away from it all. There had been no hope for escape on his own--Supervillain didn't like being stolen from, and leaving was a theft of yourself--but maybe if he was on Villain's side he'd be ok.

Henchman pulled the covers closer around him. He must have fallen asleep because when he next opened his eyes, the room was lit in the dim blue-gray of early morning. The shower handle squeaked from the other side of the wall, and a few minutes later, Villain emerged in the same clothes as yesterday, hair pulled in a wet bubble braid that reached to the middle of her back. She yanked on her boots and snatched the car keys from the bedside table.

“I'll drop you off at a bus stop, but you'll have to find your own way back.”

Henchman blinked groggily at her, but as it struck he shot upright. "Back?" He gaped at her. "You want me to go back? Alone? With nothing but my own word that you forced me to come with you?"

"Well, it's not like I need you to stay. Two people are much easier to track than one."

"You screwed up my job! I missed my deadline! Supervillain could have me killed!"

"And you'll be better off begging for forgiveness than continuing on."

Henchman frowned. Was she actually looking out for him? "What if became your henchman?"

"What are you even talking about?"

"You're building your own empire, right? You'll need followers. So, I'll be the first one. I'll do everything you don't want to and prove that I'm actually useful."

Villain furrowed her brow, suspicion rearranging the pattern of her freckles. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just a random henchman that I've never even met. Why are throwing yourself at me?"

Henchman flushed. "Ok, first of all, I don't think I'd describe it like that. Second, we have met. Last, my powers are 100% support-based. I need a boss, and I'd rather work for you than Supervillain."

"What are you going to do, make me cupcakes?"

"Sure. And pot pie. And buttermilk biscuits. And apple strudel. And--"

"How do you--"

Henchman cut the accusation short. "I know everyone of note's favorites. It was my job. Which was a pretty significant job if you ask me."

"You mildly boost powers, so what?"

"That's not..." Whatever. Henchman wasn't in the mood for convincing someone who obviously didn't want to be convinced. "Nutrition is actually a very critical part of an escape. It keeps you alert, energized, and happy. And anyway, I'm pretty sure I've spent more time being inconspicuous than you have, especially when Supervillain first took over the underbelly. I can help organize things. Give advice." He fiddled nervously with a string on his sleeve. He needed this. "Like...for example, you're going to want to trade out that car. It's nice and all but ultra-trackable. Pretty sure Supervillain has a way to hack cameras."

Villain pressed her lips together so tightly it looked painful. "Fine."

"To which part."

Villain waved her hand in the air and strode for the door. "Fine, you can come, and fine, we'll get a new car. But we're making a shopping run first. I left in a rush. So start thinking of things you need."

Henchman trotted grinning after her. “Flour, sugar, baking powder—”

"Not that. There will be no baking."

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated@just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful@cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

#did I decide to make this is in the same universe as Sweet Dreams?#yes I did #Because I can #And that world was a fun one #creative writing #heroes and villains #writing prompt #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #villain x villain #villain x henchman #witeblr #hero x villain community

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imfinereallyy · 3 months

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for stwg daily prompt: “goodnight love”

Steve brushed back the hair on Eddie’s forehead. Gone were the days when Steve had to pick off the stray hairs that stuck to Eddie’s sweaty skin. Back then, when they still spent their nights sneaking into the trailer, the hot Indiana summers always made themselves known in the metal box.

Now, though, Steve found himself wishing for the sweat-slicked skin. Found himself yearning for Eddie’s embarrassed laugh as Steve slicked back his bangs. His soft sigh as Steve pulled back Eddie’s hair for him.

Eddie was freezing now; the only heat was coming from his short, shallow breaths and the palm of Steve’s hand.

It would be any minute now.

Steve wished that Robin hadn’t left to get coffee, wished she was here to fill up the room with sound. The room was silent except for the soft, slow beat of the monitor. Its neon glow lit up Eddie’s pale face.

Steve knew it was useless to wish for her return; he knew neither of them had drunk coffee in decades. Not since Steve’s first seizure, and both Eddie and Robin stop drinking it in solidarity.

Steve had never experienced love quite like theirs before they came along.

Steve was sure that Robin knew, even after all this time, what he needed. That Steve needed to calm his nerves to the beautiful sound of Eddie’s heartbeat one last time.

“You look pretty when you smile like that, you know?” Eddie’s voice croaked from the bed.

“When I smile like what?” Steve raised a brow.

“Like you’re thinking about something really good.”

Steve felt his heart flutter. This game was as old as time between them. Eddie would always say this; then Steve would follow up with a ‘Maybe I am.’ And Eddie would ask him to tell him what was so good to deserve a smile like that. And Steve would tell him, to bring a little light to his day.

Sometimes it was about the kids. Sometimes, it was something a student did. Sometimes, it was just how blue the sky was that day. But most of the time, it was Eddie. And when it was Eddie, Steve would always say…

“It’s always good, thinking about you.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, and laced their fingers together.

Eddie squeezed as hard as he could, which wasn’t very much. “I wanna fight you on that one, but I don’t want to see that pretty smile go away just yet.”

Steve’s smile deepened. “It’s yours whenever you want it.”

“Good.” Eddie smiled back. His eyes fluttered with exhaustion. “I’m getting a little sleepy; that smile better be there when I wake up.” Eddie’s voice choked, but his smile never wavered.

Steve didn’t fight him, not this time. “You deserve some rest.”

Eddie snuggled into the bed while the heart monitor slowed down slightly. Steve watched as the man he loved for long, and the man he would continue to love beyond the after, sought comfort in the love they shared.

Eddie tilted his head towards Steve as he eyelids slowly drifted shut. “Goodnight, love you.”

Steve stayed silent as Eddie had already drifted off into sleep. Steve didn’t bother to keep his eyes on the heart monitor this time. He could hear it, and that was good enough. Steve kept his gaze on his light, his life, his Eddie.

Steve made sure to watch the way his face drifted off, as it had done time and time again in every bed they had ever shared. How his nose scrunched up before his body relaxed into slumber. How his hands twitched endlessly before slipping into his dreams. Steve resisted tracing the wrinkles on his face, reminiscing about the tales they each told.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he sat, watching each breath become slower and slower. It didn’t matter, though; no amount of time would ever be enough.

Eventually, Eddie’s face stilled and distantly Steve heard the monitor flatline.

Steve stared for an extra moment, before leaning over and kissing Eddie’s forehead.

“Goodnight. Love.”

****

hi, yes im back. sorry this is bittersweet. sorry if it makes zero sense haha. you can thank the guild for me being back but also blame them for encouraging me to write this. love yal.

#steddie #this is sad but also felt so good to write it #I think I needed this off my chest #steve harrington #eddie munson #the guild made me do it #stwg #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ficlet #angst #hurt comfort #stranger things

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f10werfae · 2 years

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Handyman

Pairing: Husband!Henry x Pregnant!Reader

summary: fans on social media are absolutely in love with Henry and Y/n's relationship, and can’t ignore the fact that the woman is stunningly glowing !Fluff!

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Cavill Masterlist💫

Full Masterlist ✨

Taglist Form⭐️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

We’re Building our baby’s Crib‼️

Uploaded: 10 minutes ago

Comments:

@/tokyodrifter129: Ok but who knew watching a man building a crib could be such a turn on?!

> @/Y/nCavill: Babe I was thinkin the exact same thing 😭 it’s like porn for me now

>> @bulkyhulk: OMG SHE IS SUCH A MOOD I CANT BELIEVE SHE REPLIED TO YOUR COMMENT

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@/lizziedwire: Y/n is so cute with her baby bump🥺 The way her hand is just constantly touching on it and the way she smiles at her tummy just makes me wanna cry my eyes out. She’s so precious

> @/marvelledsire: let’s talk about her pregnancy glow though?? Like don’t get me wrong the woman was already stunning before, but even i’m findin her irresistible to look at

@/livingonntheflatearth: Did anyone notice in the video when Henry was reading the instruction manual to the crib, and his other hand was just rubbing Y/n's stomach mindlessly. I just know he positioned her rocking chair right there for that exact reason. But also I can’t blame her if she just wanted to watch him up close 🤪

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@/Cavillsfangirl00: Their nursery is so cutely decorated, all the pastel stuffies and toys on the shelves; DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE SUPERHERO BABY BOOKS THEY HAVE. I’m volunteering to be reincarnated as their baby

> @/leavemealonepls: Watching Henry in a vest top and shorts trying to build a crib, is something we didn’t know we needed. Thank you Y/n for posting this😭😭

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@/Tacosandcheese: Henry leaning his head up like a kid to ask Y/n for a kiss as a reward gets me all giggly every time. Who knew a man needed a kiss after every hammer hit☠️

> @/clarkentwho: Y/n looks so done with him every time he put his head up for that😭 but did you see how she always ended up smiling into their kiss?! I’m sleeping on the highway tonight for real

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@/369girlswannadrink: My favourite part of this video has to be when Henry accidentally dropped a bit of wood too loud and instantly turned around to Y/n, scared that he had “woken the weep chap”

> @/presidentofyourheart: Mine was when he finished the crib and him and Y/n started placing the mattress in it, you could see them both tearing up when they were hugging that dog stuffed toy they had😩

>> @/Saneiofanhere: How about when Y/n was sat eating baby sausages and every few seconds Henry would open his mouth and she’d try to aim one into it, then at one point she just got grouchy cause she ran out and he went and got her more. Sausage queen

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@/noobmasterer: Y/n is absolutely stunning in her maternity dress, i’m actually in awe, what a goddess

> @/henrycavill: yeah imagine how I feel waking up to her everyday

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@/beyoncesbackupdancer: Yall remember when they just revealed their pregnancy, AND HENRY CHANGED ALL HIS BIOS TO SAY “Future dad” This man is so extra i love it

> @/jellybaby: Can we blame him though? Mans has waited ages for a woman like her and waited even more for his own family. He deserves it sm!!

—-

@/Iminlove: I nearly cried when the baby kicked Y/n’s stomach in the video and Henry dropped everything to go to her side to soothe the baby, with gentle kisses and cuddles😭😭

—

@/princesspopper: No lie I saw them buying the crib in ikea, and Henry was complaining wondering why the baby couldn’t sleep with them☠️☠️ Y/n had to hit him up the head and remind him that he can’t squish the poor thing

> @/princesspopper: THEN Y/n hugged him but she couldn’t cause of her stomach so he went around and hugged her from behind. I’m jealous can you tell

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@/britishenthusiast: Omg the plaster cast of Y/n's bump in the background is so fricking cute, I heard that Henry did it himself at home.

—

@/bringitonsatan: I hate how there’s still fans hating on this beautiful family, CANT YOU SEE THEYRE LITERAL PERFECTION

> @/emmalovescake: omg yeah i know right, you can clearly see how much love they have for each other just by their eyes, I can’t imagine what they’re going to be like when their baby is here

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@/cheesytoes: Ok but Y/n ogling Henry while he’s building the crib is a mood, Henry ogling Y/n while she’s sorting out the toys is also a mood. I’m in love with them both

—

@/Y/ncavillstan1: I can’t wait for vids of Y/n with their baby and singing them to sleep😭 I need to see it.

> @angelfeeder: I know AND I CAN ALREADY SEE THE BABY IN RUGBY GEAR CUS OF HENRY OMG

—

@/Y/nCavill: @/HenryCavill you purposely put the bar of this crib too high, I can’t get out of it

> @/Henrycavill: I told you not to get in it pet, luckily it’s big enough for a feckn bear

>> @/Y/nCavill: Please baby i’m gonna piss myself, I just wanted to check if it was comfortable enough for our baby boo 🥺

>>> @/HenryCavill: Alright babs i’m coming up now

>>>> @/supermanreds: stop it. The cuteness is too much.

———-

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly

#romance #henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x you #henry cavill oneshot #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfiction

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blushweddinggowns · 2 months

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Chrissy woke up in Robin’s arms a few hours later, rested but disoriented. There was an odd sound she couldn’t place, a jingle that her morning-sleepiness wouldn’t let her focus on.

The music was still playing in the background, a constant loop. She looked around, relieved that everyone was still there. Nancy was curled onto her side with Max laid out at the very end of the bed. Steve and Eddie were laying on top of each other on the couch, while Dustin snored in the chair.

She wasn’t sure what woke her up, not until she realized that tinkling was the sound of keys in the door, followed by it slamming open.

“I hate that damn door,” She heard a gruff voice say under his breath.

Chrissy popped her head up, her eyes widening when Eddie’s uncle stepped inside. He stopped, a loud sigh escaping as he looked around the room. His eyes zeroed right onto Eddie and Steve on the couch, Eddie still peacefully asleep on Steve’s chest.

He didn’t even look surprised. Just vaguely annoyed.

Chrissy watched as he walked over, nudging them both until they started grumbling. Steve came to first, rubbing his eyes before looking up at Wayne with a very guilty look on his face.

He shook Eddie with him, waking him just in time to hear it when Wayne sighed, “Boys, why are all of these people in our house?”

They looked at each other, another silent conversation raging on until Steve nodded.

Eddie rolled off of him, landing on his feet as he looked at Wayne, “We have something to tell you. And… you’re probably going to want to sit down for it.”

The rest of the group was starting to wake now, everyone coming to consciousness from the noise. But Wayne listened. He sat on the couch, obviously confused as Steve shook Nancy awake. He whispered a few words into her ear, her eyes going from sleepy to focused in record time.

She nodded, “You’re right. He deserves to know.”

“Will someone please explain what the hell you’re talking about?” Wayne finally snapped, “I’m getting off a ten-hour shift here.”

“I know, I know,” Eddie sighed as he sat next to him, “But you’re gonna want to hear this. Nancy, go.”

And go she went, explaining the same tale that Chrissy got, but with none of the circumstances to force her to believe it.

By the end of it, Wayne had his head in his hands, groaning as everyone chimed in about their corroborating stories.

He was struggling to believe it, they could all tell. Chrissy couldn’t blame him. She was still struggling, despite the fact that her life was on the line.

He finally looked up, his eyes zeroing in on Steve and Eddie.

“So you’re saying, that day you two came home beaten and bloodied wasn’t a fight? You almost died fighting monsters. That’s what you’re telling me?”

“I-It technically was a fight-” Steve tried.

“Have you or have you not, been risking your lives for the past four years dealing with supernatural shit? Yes or no, Steven?” Wayne interrupted.

It was enough to snap Steve’s mouth shut. Chrissy was pretty sure she’d never seen him look chastised before, but here he was. Steve nodded, nearly hiding behind Eddie as Wayne groaned.

“W-We had to sign NDAs!” Eddie tried, “We would have told you but we didn’t think-”

“What? You thought it would be better for me to find out my kids died through some shady government agency? Do you even know how insane all of the shit you just said was! I- how do you expect me to react?!”

It worked just as well with Eddie as it did with Steve. He snapped his mouth back closed, thoroughly reprimanded.

“We’re sorry,” Steve mumbled out, oddly child-like. Almost as though he was getting scolded by his father instead of his friend’s uncle.

“Steve, I don’t want to hear it,” Wayne said, “Because neither of you are going to stop, are you? Not when that girl’s life is on the line.”

They both shook their heads and it was enough to have Wayne groaning again.

“I don’t want to believe you,” Wayne finally said, “I haven’t heard anything like this since I was a kid. Boys, this is just too damn much!”

“Wait, what?” Nancy asked, her soft voice ignored as Eddie jumped in.

“But it’s true! I swear it is! Think of all the weird shit that happens here, Wayne. A kid came back from the dead. You know this town is messed up!”

Steve was still going for a more meek approach, “Are you really that mad?”

“You’re damn right I’m mad!” Wayne snapped again, “The two of you have been risking your lives for - I don’t even know! Why would you-”

“No, wait,” Nancy interrupted, firm enough to get all eyes back on her, “What did you say before? The thing about when you were a kid?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wayne said with a wave of the hand, “Just old ghost stories.”

“But what ghost stories?”

Wayne shrugged, “Just… something crazy. It doesn’t matter.”

“But what if it does?” Nancy pressed, “What happened to Will is probably known as a ghost story around here now, and it was at the center of everything. We have no reason to think whatever this is started with him. What if it started before?”

“She’s right,” Dustin chimed in, “What happened when you were a kid?”

Wayne sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he spoke, “There was a man who lived on the other side of town, in that abandoned house with the stained glass. Killed his whole family. Snapped all their limbs apart like some kind of monster. They never even explained how he managed it, let alone what he did to his son. They never found his body. But he was insane not magic. He sewed his own eyes shut after, never admitting to what he did. Victor Creel doesn’t have anything to do with my kids being stupid-”

“That was his name?” Nancy interrupted, “Victor Creel? What happened to him?”

“I think he’s still at the asylum,” Wayne said, “He got a plea deal, because he was off his damn rocker. Haven’t heard anything about him since.”

Nancy turned to Chrissy, her brow raised, “Does the stained glass ring any bells?”

Chrissy blinked at her, “I-maybe?”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #buckingham fic #the universe trapped in your skin #its all i got now #no more excuses and siren doesnt count cause she weird #I'm going to finish this bitch or die trying #Season 4 is such a mess guys honestly that is the issue #but things have been worked out since #This bitch is a saga #stranger things rewrite #i love wayne #wayne munson

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mayariviolet · 2 months

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I Don’t Smoke.

Pilot/ Episode One of ‘First Love/ Late Spring’

summary:

“So if you need to be mean, be mean to me. I can take it and put it inside of me.” // “I’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

Some letters addressed to Suguru before and after he defected were written by you, still in their sealed envelopes.

══════════════════

cw: angst, no use of y/n, allusions to graphic violence, swearing, suggestive themes (but not really), references to blood, afab ‘reader’ x Suguru (I put the reader in quotations because technically they’re the ones writing the letters), fluff (if you squint really really hard), minor f! reader x Satoru.

a/n: I wanted to try something new! I love you, Geto Suguru! My bad for what I’m gonna do! Also on Ao3.

wc: ~4.5k

🏷️: @tacobellfreshavocado, @jeanboyjean (Reply below to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapters!).

September 2007

The day before, he defected…

Dear Suguru,

I'm slipping this under your door because I'm feeling a little exhausted after our last conversation. Even though it's been a while. I know our last argument has been 'solved' per se.

But consider this insurance if I don't wake up in time to say goodbye like I usually do! I've been feeling a little more drained lately; I'm sure you know why. I'll keep writing like this if this mission takes a long time. Although, I know we will talk soon. Good luck tomorrow!

With love,

Two days after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

It still feels weird doing this since we haven't talked like this since we were kids, but anyway. We haven't spoken in a couple of days. It's kind of like when we were kids, too. I guess. I heard Satoru and Yaga talking the other day, but I couldn't fully understand what they said. Only bits and pieces. It's like they cast a curtain in the hallway… haha… I know I'm eavesdropping again (don't tell my parents), but I can't help it! It's hard to get any honest conversations out of anyone here. Yaga is probably on our ass about that assignment we haven't finished. I mean- I'm just waiting for you to do your part. Suppose that isn't too much to ask.

Also, they should have fixed my door if they didn't want anyone to hear! It's still creaking! Maybe when you get back, you could also look at it. I'll probably slip this into your room again. But you don't have to respond right away. Just take your time. I know you've been busy going on all of these missions alone. I'm sorry about that. You're probably exhausted. I don't blame you.

Just know that my door is always open (unfortunately).

With love,

Five days after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

Satoru fixed my door finally! He truly is good at everything. It feels emptier without you here, even though it hasn't been long. But you'll be back soon to fill the void. If you visit your parents, could you tell them I said hi? Mine too. I miss them greatly, but I know our work will make them proud. Satoru has been hanging around my room more, even after some tough training sessions. It's friendly company, but it's not you. He won't tell me why he's always loitering in our my room.

I forgot to mention that he asked me to heal his hand in my last letter. It's strange since he can do it himself, but I digress. It felt… nice to be wanted. Even Shoko seems gloomy! Uncharacteristic for her… Do you think she and Utahime got in a fight? Anyway, she's been helping me with my technique and some hand-to-hand combat stuff! It's a little hard to follow, probably because we train in my room. I wish I were granted a little more space…

Shoko also helped me finish our assignment- we got an A! I hope Yaga isn't too mad, but he's been getting quiet whenever I ask about you. Rather weird, but not as weird as Kento's haircut, right?

They're calling for heavy rainfall soon (according to that sweaty weatherman we liked to make fun of), but at least it's better than the unbearable heat. However, you felt the sting of summer more than anyone.

If you're home, eat more and say hi to my parents! They always tell me how you'll change the world one day.

With love,

One week since he defected…

Dear Suguru,

Sorry about this letter being so close to my last one, but I feel bad. Kento's been avoiding me lately despite not saying anything about his haircut. Then again, he's been avoiding everyone. Do you think he knows what I wrote? Hopefully not. As I write this, I can hear him shuffling back and forth. Inside and then outside. His heavy shoes hitting the stone walkways reverberate in my room.

Haibara, being gone, has started to settle in even though I wasn't as close to him as Kento or you. Is the work we do… is it worth something? It has to, right? Otherwise, you wouldn't be taking so long. This letter is a bit of a throwaway, so don't worry too much about responding.

With love,

One and a half weeks after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

Kento left. The rain is starting to get worse, but it's still manageable. Thankfully, Yaga gave me that empty patch near our dormitory to start gardening. I'm planning on planting some yellow roses, amongst other things. They remind me of you. The cicadas seem to be chirping a little louder every night. Maybe they're having nightmares about Riko, too.

With love,

Two weeks after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

It's been getting bad again. I wish you were here.

Do away missions usually take this long? I can't remember since Yaga has kept me holed up. I forgot to mention that in my last letters. Something about the higher-ups wanting to 'keep tabs on Satoru and me.' It's weird because Satoru can strut around, but I'm just confined to the campus.

However, he is kind enough to get me sweets whenever he heads into the city (he teases me about my sweet tooth, but he's worse!). I'll have to get used to telling him which ones I like before he spends his money, unlike you, who always got it right. I think Satoru just likes to eat my leftovers…

The days are starting to blur together.

With love,

Two and a half weeks since he defected…

Dear Suguru,

I think my technique is getting worse. You'd say otherwise and that I'm only getting better, and then give me a big hug. Is it creepy to say that I miss the smell of your shampoo? Probably. But it was so strong that it burrowed into my senses, like Satoru's six eyes. Since you've left, I'm unsure what to do with my free time.

I hope the break you are taking from school is refreshing. Heaven knows you need it. Hell, you deserve it. The tree we used to read under together is already yellow and threatening to drop its leaves, and the sun is starting to set earlier. Shoko offered me a smoke, and I felt…relief. Maybe I'll start doing that instead of thinking about how you take your tea. Sorry, I know how much you hated the idea of smoking.

My parents stopped answering my calls (they have been for a while). Even writing this feels like a waste, but I know you'll respond soon. Feel free to do it in person. My door is fixed now, but it is always open for you.

With love,

Your dear friend

Three weeks after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

It's been hushed lately. The cicadas stopped screaming, but I haven't. I walk by your room every day. It's weird. I used to get annoyed whenever you and Satoru were loud, especially when we had early missions. I would storm into your room, ready to be angry, but then you would flash me that beautiful smile, and everything else seemed to matter a little less.

Sometimes, I think you guys liked to make me mad on purpose, but I know it was all love. However, in your absence, I realized silence is worse. Suppose you cared, probably not since you haven't answered my letters. Shoko said my RCT has been getting better than before. People keep saying I'm an "asset" because of it. It's stupid because I don't feel like one. If I were, then you would have asked me to come with you. I wish you asked me to go with you.

Your dear,

With love,

Your dear friend.

══════════════════

October 2007

Four weeks after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

Sorry about the short letter. Satoru is a little freer these days, so I guess I found something to fill the silence. Digimon is cooler than I thought! It's a little hard to understand sometimes, kind of like you. He's been spending more time in my room. I hope that doesn't bother you, considering our last conversation. Then again, we didn't talk much before you left, so you probably don't remember. Please come back soon.

With love,

Your dear friend.

Four and a half weeks after he defected…

Dear Suguru,

I have been missing the way you make me tea. So, I've been desperately trying to recreate it to no avail. Satoru suggested I add honey, and it made it almost too sweet. Still good, though. I realized on my third cup that what makes it special is you. But enough of that. Today, Satoru has been giving me tips and ideas on what to plant next season. He suggested some lily of the valley or some iris! I'm surprised he hasn't tried to convince me to plant some flowers that are as blue as his eyes. Granted, they are beautiful. Sorry, I should refrain from talking about how nice they are. He's been itching to tell me something, but I told him that we should wait until you come back.

With love,

Your dear friend.

Five weeks after he defected…

Suguru,

Satoru finally told me what you did. I'm getting that shaking rage again. There's a pain so deeply woven into my soul that my technique could never heal. I know writing these letters used to help us solve our problems when we were kids, but honestly? This feels a little ridiculous now.

There's not much I can say other than I hope wherever you are, there's eternal suffering- that whatever vomit-soaked rag curse you consume next swallows you whole. How dare you do this to our my family?

There's no way you could have known this, but after our weekly dinners, my dad used to go on and on about you. How you were 'the child they never had.'

How fucked up is that? I remember thinking, 'I'm here too! I'm here too!' They saw no value in something that couldn't clean up the fucking trash they created. That much was true. You saw that every time my father made ME cry, he made ME apologize.

Imagine a CHILD begging to be loved when that's all they should ever feel. I was just a KID. How burdensome it must be to demand what should come as second nature for parents. Their pure vitriolic energy seeped into my heart one night, and I considered destroying everything.

You knew that, and it was YOU who stopped me. Just like how you stopped Satoru after that day. God, you're a fucking hypocrite! Well, that doesn't matter anymore, does it? I was so close to getting their love back to how it was when I was six and didn't know anything. You stripped that away from me. God, you are such an asshole. Did you think you were doing me a favour? I keep replaying our last conversation in my mind. Each time, it's getting fuzzier, like a broken VCR tape. Rather than trying to remember how you smiled (which I am glad I am forgetting), I see this dingy aura. This whole 'monkey' talk is just the ramblings of a broken man, and I am not your repair shop.

You're a goddamn psychotic and selfish prick. How dare you murder all of those innocent people? What happened to us, making the world a better place? Was it all a lie? Just like another drunken kiss, perhaps? These stupid fucking letters never did anything when we fought as kids, and both of our parents made us you apologize like this.

You've poisoned us, me. There's not much else I can write other than I fucking loathe you. I always did. You were constantly parading around like you cared about me. You were saying that your 'Special Grade' status would never get in the way. How stupid was I to think that wouldn't get in the way because you were supposed to care for me? At least that's what you said to me repeatedly.

You were right about that. It wasn't your status. It was you. It was always you.

Yours,

══════════════════

January 2008

Three months after he defected…

Geto,

I don't regret what I said in my last letter. As I write this, the trees which granted us shade now threaten to break underneath the weight of the snowfall. Which we have been fortunate enough to get. There are icicles that hang on my window sill. Clear and cold. It reminds me of how you're soulless and void of any emotion. Ten years of friendship have gone down the drain for a fucking pipe dream.

And what a waste! When I scream at night from the memory of you, Satoru comes into my room now. He holds me until the sun rises and I've calmed down enough or until I pass out from exhaustion. I hope this information wounds the depths of your soul. If you even had one, to begin with.

A friend

Three and a half months after he defected…

Geto,

I've been smoking more.

Almost four months after he defected…

Geto,

Satoru and I have been getting close. I'm unsure why I'm telling you this again or even why I keep writing these letters, but whatever. I've been going on more missions. Digimon, missions, sweets, and then staring at the dust that coats your bedroom door. It's a little repetitive and draining, for sure. But then again, so was loving you.

══════════════════

February 3rd, 2008

Geto,

Do you remember when we first met? I do. This slimy worm thing smelled awful, and it kept following me! It had just rained, so I thought, 'Oh, maybe it's just the mud that was still on my backpack after that kid pushed me.' Which was a little annoying because I was on my way to that grandmother's house to tend to her garden. No matter how far I walked, the smell kept following me.

You were trudging behind closely, and with one quick gulp, there was an overwhelming relief in my body. It was as if Sisyphus was able to complete his task. Then again, you're more like Sisyphus than I ever will be. I understand that now. Maybe that's why you kept me away after what happened with Tengen. Or, I should say what didn't.

I'm sorry I didn't do enough back then and also that I ran away after you helped me when we were younger. Then again, when I tried apologizing for running away while braiding your beautiful hair like always, you said it was fine.

I don't know why I'm writing this letter, to be honest. Maybe it's because I'm feeling nostalgic.

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

April 2008

Six months since he defected…

Geto,

I have been thinking a lot about our childhood, our parents' expectations and just things of that sort. In general, I've been thinking about a lot and nothing at the same time. Mostly, I think about how stupid I am to keep writing to a man who would rather burn the whole world than try to nourish it. This is more for me than it is for you at this point.

My garden has been flourishing (well, it's attempting to). But Satoru is very encouraging when things get overwatered, and also a little annoying about the technicalities of it all. Satoru twiddling his thumbs while I tend to my wisteria tree is comforting, to say the least. Even though I know he is just itching to help. Sometimes, I let him.

From your former classmate,

Six and a half months since he defected…

Geto,

I think we're planning to move somewhere else soon, just as roommates, though. It was Satoru's idea. He made a good point of needing a change of scenery. Also, he has been very comforting in general, so I don't mind. I know whatever house or apartment he decides to buy will be way better than the hovel you're living in (hopefully).

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

May 2008

Seven months since he defected…

Geto,

The house Satoru picked out is very nice indeed. However, I expect nothing less from a clan head. My room is spacious, and it overlooks some lovely green spaces. It is a nice break for my eyes. Thankfully, it's still close enough where I can tend to the garden on campus, but Satoru was also smart enough to find a house where I can expand my green thumb. If need be.

It makes me miss our old town. When we had the warm summer sun kiss our faces, the promise of a better tomorrow. I almost asked Satoru if he wanted to visit whenever he had free time.

Although, he always makes himself free whenever I ask. But then I remembered that our youth, or lack thereof, is simply a ghost that will always haunt me. He's a good friend.

I still hope you're struggling. However, from what I have heard, you were able to take over the Star Plasma Church quickly. Or whatever you call it now. Congratulations. You've become everything you hate.

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

July 2008

Almost one year since he defected…

Geto,

It's approaching that time again. Sorry. I meant the anniversary of what happened. I think I have been able to process most of the merger that never happened. You were trying your best to stay as righteous as possible. I admire that about you. I've always struggled with that, but I guess I did better at masking it than you.

I know I said this before, but I am genuinely sorry about not doing enough back then. I went ahead and got myself stupidly injured when I should have stayed with you instead of following Satoru. He could protect himself. I'm not saying you aren't able to, but I guess I wanted you to see how strong I am. I want to say that none of it was your fault.

Although the hardship you've created after what happened with Riko is.

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

September 2008

One year since he defected…

Geto,

It's been more than a year since I last saw you. Summer came and went. Satoru and I were actually able to get our schedules lined up to visit Okinawa. It was a little painful, and I was reluctant. But you know him, it's hard to say no. He even checked the plane for anything that would be amiss.

'Cross my six eyes and hope to die, there's nothing here!' he told me when I was annoyingly asking for reassurance. I couldn't help but feel a swelling in my chest that I thought would never return. Once we actually arrived, it was a very relaxing time (He's finally figured out how to make my tea just how I like it).

It was such a nice gesture, and he was kind about the whole thing, so I bought him some sweets and wrote a note. He asked me if I would ever want to return, and I was about to insist that you come as well.

Luckily, we arrived back in Tokyo before the rain started to pick up. I've been getting assigned more missions, but this is what I've been working towards. Cleaning up your mess, no doubt.

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

August 2009

Almost two years since he defected…

Geto,

One of the more fucked up things in my life (other than continuing to write letters you'll never read) is how even after all this time, you are the only person I want to talk to. Shoko is going to school to become a doctor soon; from what I heard, Kento is doing well and- Satoru is a good boyfriend and a better dad.

Someone who knew you,

══════════════════

September 2009

Two years after he defected…

Geto,

I should have clarified in my last letter I am not pregnant. There are parts of my body that will always belong to you, no matter who decides to enter our home. Satoru adopted this boy and his sister. I didn't bother asking how or why we spent weeks tracking two orphans.

I know, even if Satoru won't tell me.

It's a little daunting sometimes being young parents. But I'm trying my best not to repeat any mistakes my parents made. However, there are certain moments when I can feel my father's venom come out to try to sting Megumi or Tsumiki. I would never let that happen.

I'm getting stronger for their sake. Maybe I'll try to cheat my way through medical school like Shoko.

From your former classmate,

══════════════════

December 22nd 2009

Two years after he defected…

Geto,

It's blistering outside but I will write something quickly as I am preparing for Megumi's birthday. Satoru and I have been making hasty preparations and a crappy cake (he insisted we tried when I said that I always wanted a nice homemade cake when I was younger) that will no doubt be replaced by one from a much better bakery. For a while, I was feeling jaded and jealous about how lavish Megumi's birthday party would be. But then I thought back to all of my birthdays those long forgotten years ago and thought about how I am so glad to have an opportunity to shelter a child from that experience.

In my reflections, I remembered your sleepy eyes and face smeared with an ice cream vanilla cake that your parents bought for me. I was fuming. Especially since my dad forced us to take a picture shortly after. I did a pretty good job of hiding it, though.

While moving to our new house, something fell out of my journal. It was the picture of that day. I'm sure you've thrown away your copy to forget your old life rightfully. Tsumiki came into my room right as I was about to put it away and asked who the dirty kid was in the photo. At first, I thought she was referring to me, but when I asked her to repeat the question nicely, she pointed to you. I told her the truth.

'It's just an old friend.'

══════════════════

March 2011

Three and a half years after he defected…

Dear Geto,

There are so many letters I have written, but I decided this is the best one for now.

Satoru is kind enough not to notice my fervent writings to a man I've been mourning who isn't even dead. I understand what you did. Sometimes, I'm even jealous that you had the courage to take action. You were trying in your way.

I have always felt like a passive observer, but now that love I carried for you burdens my family instead, with Satoru taking the brunt of it. I don't know if you remember, but you told me you wanted that. A family. Our family. Then again, I was half asleep, and I could have dreamed of you whispering that to me as I was lulled in the safety of your arms.

Wherever you are, I hope someone can give you what you deserve.

From an old friend,

══════════════════

September 2012

Five years after he defected…

My Dear, Geto,

I apologize for not writing that much. Then again, no designation could ever accurately describe our relationship. There's not much else to say other than I miss you. I finally cut my hair, not by choice. My son decided that gum belonged to my hair rather than a tissue thrown promptly into the garbage. I was annoyed, but then I remembered what a blessing it is to have him in my life. The ability to live in a world free of curses… I hope you're able to give it to him.

Maybe he'll inherit his father's technique one day. Perhaps not six-eyes since it seems a little exhausting. Once he's a little older, we'll find out, and then I will finally be able to return to work (despite Satoru's strong objections) alongside Shoko with less worry. Then again, if he were not to have a technique at all, I think that would be a greater blessing.

I do not wish to pass on the burden of our sins.

I just hope that if the time comes and he has nothing to protect himself from this unforgiving world, you will spare a child who has the wonder in his eyes you once had.

If I'm being honest, I knew you would never come back. I understood that the moment I slipped that note under your door only to find it unlocked and stripped clean. Still, a naive part of me kept writing and hoarding all the love I had for you in the hopes that you would one day return and take it all.

My garden, both on campus and at my home, is sprawling. In the spring, my children like to play in the large backyard pond. They're careful not to disturb the lotus that I've been careful to curate. Sometimes, I blink, and there are flashes of our childhood that I see. Specifically, summers which were spent in that grandmother's yard, tending to her vegetables and running errands. I hoped you would never tire of me dragging you along to this random grandmother's house, but deep down, I know you liked helping her as much as I did. It was a nice escape from the chaos of it all. I really started dreaming in those peaceful moments spent with you in that old house.

I have forgiven my parents, and now it's time that I try to accept what you did, along with the things I cannot change.

There has been an unnerving comfort in speaking to the ghost of who you once were. This will be my last letter for a while. Even though my writing, in general, has been sparse. I have a family, after all. I'm sure you do, too. I may be imagining things, but lately, these twin girls have been popping up wherever I go.

It seems stupid, I know, but they remind me of you despite their brown hair and large eyes. Both of which emit a warmth that I once felt whenever intertwined. In another life, maybe they could have been ours. Satoru listens to my concerns and is quick to calm me down. Ever since he's been checking in on me, I don't have nightmares anymore.

Sure, some nights are more challenging than others, but he whispers such lovely things that I can't help but fall asleep faster than I did with you. Sorry. That was an asshole thing of me to write. But I thought you would like to know I am being cared for.

You were my first love and best friend. My one and only.

With love,

Your dear, friend.

a/n: This is my first time trying this format, and I really like it! I might try it with another series of characters once I finish this. Also, the other chapters are written, but I am very anal about editing, so they're gonna have staggered uploads throughout March and April!

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nattinatalia · 10 months

Text

Jack Harlow x Reader : SOCCER GAMES & SHOWERS

A/N: ⚠️ 18+ SMUT AHEAD!!!!!!! We’re back again with another fic collab with my buttercup @harlowcomehome 💚 thank you for everything babes. you know how much you mean to me, thank you for always jumping in and helping me out and always willing to make magic 🪄 ✨ with me.

******************************

It was the Fourth of July weekend and surprisingly Jack was home for it. You were excited to have him home and have Mia enjoy all the different colors of the fireworks.

Of course, Jack and the boys had their annual soccer game for the holiday and this time somehow they were extra excited.

Urban was over for breakfast since they were heading out right after. Your daughter Mia was sleeping still so you decided to get an early start on breakfast for the boys and yourself.

Hearing them speak about their game today spiked an interest in you. “Dude, we have to win. Imagine all the money going into this charity.”

Jack nods, taking a sip of his iced matcha that he somehow actually enjoyed drinking. He says it’s only good when you make it at home though. “We will, this team we're going up against has a member that sprained his ankle but somehow he’s still in the game. That gives us an advantage.”

You smile at that, “Jack, honey?”

“Yes?” He looks towards you.

“Can I join you today?”

He tilts his head to the side, obviously surprised about it. “Join me at the game?”

You nod excitedly, “Yeah, why not?” you shrug getting up from your spot on the table and heading to the sink and start piling up the dirty dishes. “I always hear you talk about this game, so why not witness it myself?”

Urban and Jack share a look and a little chuckle. “What?”

“Babe, the first and last time you decided to join us you got bored not even five minutes in and you left.”

“I was seven months pregnant with your daughter, let’s blame it on her.” You pout.

Jack started heading to you, wrapping you up in his arms. “Baby, it’s just us boys running around, sweating, and sometimes cursing at each other.”

You shrug, “I want to see you run all sweaty, curls bouncing around.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “Fine, if you want to go and watch the game, you’re more than welcome to come.”

Urban stood up “One problem.” You both turn to face him. “They usually don’t let kids in because of the distraction and yelling since it’s indoor soccer.”

You smile, “Maggie already offered to watch Mia for the day.”

Jack looks at you, brows raised. “So you had this planned already?”

“Maybe?”

“Alright, let’s go pack what we need for Mia and my mom because we leave in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll drop Mia off with your mom and I’ll meet you there?”

Jack nods, “Sounds like a plan, be careful driving.”

“You too bubs.” You quickly ran upstairs to wake Mia up and get her ready for the day.

*******

When you arrived at the game, you were balancing two cup holders full of Starbucks drinks.

Urban slapped Jack's arm to show him you were here.

Jack jogged over to you, sweat completely dripping down his flushed cheeks. His curls were a mess regardless of his bandeau headband. “You didn’t have to do that babe” he kissed you, his lips salty from the sweat.

You licked your lips and smiled, “It was no problem. Figured you guys needed to reenergize” You winked and he chuckled calling everyone over for a break.

You couldn’t stop admiring the way he looked, his thighs were practically being strangled by his gym shorts as if he owed them money, and his biceps were practically ripping out of his shirt.

Jack and the rest of the team sat on the bleachers with you for a while, you watched as Jack swallowed his drink, his Adam's apple bobbing as you started examining his every feature.

The freckles that decorated his arms and legs, the blonde-ish brown hair covering his legs, it wasn’t until everyone was looking over at you that you realized Jack had asked you a question.

“What? Sorry. I was distracted” you nervously giggled earning a laugh from your husband.

“Mhm, I saw that” he winked at you. “I just said we were going back to the game now.”

You nodded and grabbed him by the shoulders for one more kiss before leaning back on the bleachers.

Throughout the game, you couldn’t help but check your husband out. At home, he would literally do the bare minimum and you’d still get hot and bothered, so watching him run around the field with sweat dripping down his body, the muscles on his legs clenching, and the way he would get heated when his team doesn’t score, was getting you.

Jack noticed this, he noticed the way you would squeeze your thighs together. He noticed how you would take deep breaths. He noticed the way you would bite your bottom lip and he definitely noticed that sexy smile you would flash him.

That look alone would make him come undone but he didn’t want it that easily, he wanted to work for it and he had a plan.

“Ow, fuck.” Jack’s scream broke you away from your thoughts.

You stood up from your spot on the bench and looked out to the field to see everyone surrounding him.

Sunni came running to you. “Is he okay? Did he hurt himself? What happened?” You ask worriedly.

“He’s fine, he just landed wrong but he’s being taken to the back to get some ice on his leg, he wants you to help him.”

You nod, quickly grabbing your purse and follow where Jack was being taken to.

As you make it to the hallway, Urban shakes his head and winks at you. “What?”

He rolled his eyes “You’ll see.”

“Urban.” You warn, confused.

He laughs, “Go in there before he bursts.”

You quickly entered the room and find Jack sitting on one of the couches. “What is going on? Are you okay?”

“No-“

You rushed over to him and kneeled in front of him, your hands automatically coming up to touch his thighs, “What hurts? Should we get a doctor in here?”

He takes in a deep breath, “I need you down there.” he opens his legs wider. “Need that mouth on me.”

Your face dropped, “Jackman, did you just fake an injury?”

“Baby, I had to. I need you now” he leaned toward you taking your face in his hands, your breath hitching as his tongue danced against yours.

You instinctively straddled his waist as you continued to kiss.

Jack's hands started rubbing the side of your thighs, you knew he was growing impatient and you looked up at the ceiling for a minute.

“What’s wrong?” He started to look around too.

“Do they have cameras in here?” You were suddenly worried about the accidental sex tape that could be made.

“I don’t think so, we can hit the showers just in case?” You looked down to see the obvious growth in his shorts, biting your lip at the idea of teasing him.

“Let’s go” You grabbed his hand and made your way to the showers, you grabbed the hair tie you had in your jean pocket and messily threw your hair up before the two of you rushed inside of the private stall.

“My baby came prepared?” He chuckled.

“I know my husband pretty well I’d like to think” The two of you rushed to get undressed.

You and Jack continued to kiss under the warm shower water for a moment, he pulled and sucked on your lower lip before you ordered him to have a seat on the bench inside.

“Yes ma’am” he sat with his shoulder back and his eyes closed.

You got on your knees as the water continued to hit your backside, taking him into your mouth as softly as possible knowing he was sensitive.

His hips bucked against you making you slightly gag. He grunted before attempting to slow his pace.

“Faster” you mumbled knowing how much it would turn him on.

He followed your commands, holding onto the back of your head until your eyes began to tear up.

“Holy fuck- so pretty” he babbled.

You tapped his thigh, which was your nonverbal cue to stop.

He immediately stopped, you looked up and saw the look in his eyes. He always had a certain look and it drove you crazy every time.

“My turn” he stood up, making you sit now but instead of immediately going down on you, you saw him turn toward the shower.

“Jack- you’re not-“

“I am” he smirked, spreading your legs and giving your folds a subtle lick, the scruff of his beard teasing your thighs. He had the shower head in his hand, changing the setting to something less harsh.

He made sure to angle it specifically on your clit, making you throw your head back. Your arms reached for his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs started to uncontrollably move.

“I need you now baby, please. Please” you begged and he immediately put the shower head back, picking you up and wrapping your legs around him.

You had arched one leg up higher, setting it against his hip as he pushed through to enter you.

“You’re always so tight” he moaned. “I love- I love this, you wrap around me-“ he couldn’t finish his thoughts as he continued to thrust into you.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, resting on the top of his shoulders and he sloppily thrust into you. You continued to bounce up and down on him when you felt your stomach get tight.

“Baby- I’m going to- soon!” You warned him.

Just as you felt the wave of your orgasm come to its peak you heard the rest of the team enter the dressing room but it was too late, you were already coming undone.

You felt your pussy throb as you came around him, letting out a loud uncontrollable moan that echoed through the locker room.

Jack knew everyone heard, and he couldn’t be more proud, the thought of asserting his dominance in a sense was the last thing he needed to orgasm himself.

“Babe- babe- baby” his sense of urgency was that he didn’t want to be as audible as you.

You quickly kissed him, covering the muffled sounds of his orgasm as he moaned into you instead.

His forehead is on your chest, you’re both taking deep breaths from your orgasm. You tug gently on the back of his curls, giving him a small peck.

“We need to get dressed before they walk in here.” You whisper.

“They already know what we were doing.”

You nod, unwrapping your legs from around his waist, him pulling out from you completely. “But it’ll be less embarrassing.”

When you collected yourselves, the two of you hurriedly got dressed and headed toward the car.

Luckily the team was gone, but Jack’s phone lit up and no doubt, you knew it was one of the guys, you felt your cheeks get hot immediately.

“Don’t tell me-“ you shook your head as Jack put his soccer bag in the car.

He chuckled, his dimple prominent.

***********

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree @toocriticalharlow @thefemalestorywriter @lightsoutstyles @violetslays818

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x yn #jack harlow x you #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow smut #harlowcomehome #fic collab #jack harlow fanfic

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elcpsstuff · 9 months

Text

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 8)

A/N: Can we talk about how cute this gif is pls he’s so adorable 🫶🏻

Synopsis: Yn realizes that Conrad still cares about her, i’m more ways then one.

—

Conrad was always the protector. My protector. From the time we were little kids, and even till now.

When I was 14, this guy tried to hit on me at the pier. Susannah and Laurel were off with Belly, Jere and Steven getting ice cream inside. Conrad and me were waiting outside but Conrad went to use the bathroom.

This guy, who looked 16 or 17 came up to me and started talking to me. It was the weirdest thing ever.

“Hey, you new around here?” I didn’t know what to say to him because I was almost 15, but I didn’t think I looked like it.

“Uh, no.” I say quickly. He shakes his head and sits down next to me. I felt his shoulder touch mine, and I looked around to find Conrad but couldn’t.

“So, got any plans? We should totally hangout.”

No. no.

“Uh, actually i’m here with my family—”

“I’m sure they won’t mind.” He says it more forcefully and then grabs my wrist which makes me wince. Luckily, he got there in time.

Conrad grabbed the guy by the shirt and pushed him against a bench, people staring to stare.

“Don’t fucking touch her, ever.”

The guy laughed, “Oh i’m sorry, is this your girlfriend?”

Conrad then punched the guy. Like actually punched him and there was blood on his knuckles.

The guy then stood up and surrendered his hands, moving away from us and down the pier. Conrad immediately came over to me and sat close, while a soft look pulled over his face.

I had never seen him get so angry before. His hair had fallen in front of his face, and he looked hot. Very hot.

“Are you okay?” He says while checking my face with his hands for any injuries. I laugh and grab his hands, putting them to his sides.

“I’m fine. I should be asking if your okay?”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine. I’m sorry for leaving you. I promise, no one will touch you again.”

I nod and then when everyone came out, we acted like nothing happened. Ever.

—

That next morning, I woke up really early. I grabbed my blue strip aviator nation jacket and some spandex. I opened my phone to see it was only 5:45am but I had 7 missed calls from Frankie.

Ugh. I can’t even.

There was also a couple of texts. I must have crashed early because I didn’t see these when I went to bed.

Fran: u little slut! when u wake up tell me what happened on Bells birthday.

Fran: r u dead?

I laugh as I read the texts but my face turns serious when I see another one.

Conrad: meet me by the beach tomorrow morning?

I immediately felt this rush. This wanting.

I tip toed my way downstairs and out the back door before walking to the beach. I let the cool air hit my face and then I saw Conrad laying on the sand.

I walked over to him, sitting down. He sat up in the sand and moved closer to me so that our shoulders were touching.

“Hey there.” He says through a half smile.

I nudge his shoulder a little bit before looking out at the water. “Conrad?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about how I acted at the Marina.” I recall the events from yesterday, and Dean was not happy when he found out me and Sarah were high. He blamed it on Sarah though because it was her blunt.

He shrugs, “Nah it’s fine, i’ve been the ass this whole summer.”

Same old Conrad. Always taking the fall.

He was so much taller than me. Even when we were sitting in the sand. I wasn’t the tallest, in fact that’s all Steven would bully me about. How I was older than Belly but she was a little taller than me. Conrad was at least 6’1.

“So why’d you wanna meet?”

I saw Conrad fidget with his fingers, and I knew he was getting nervous. “Con?”

“Do you remember?” He blurts out. He doesn’t have to specify anything at all. Of course I know what he’s talking about.

“Con—”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” I answer sharp and quick hoping that this conversation can be done for.

“That’s all I wanted to know.”

Is he serious? That’s all he wanted to know? What the fuck.

I just shook my head and got up, walking back towards the house. I didn’t bother to see Conrad’s face when I left.

—

so you just left?!

I rolled my eyes as I listened to Frankie rant over the phone at how stupid I am. It was funny.

“Frankie, I’m not putting up with his bullshit anymore.”

don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t have to when I come down there for your birthday.

“absolutely not. that’ll make things worse.”

Then at least let me act like boys are obsessed with you at him, which there are. Atlas wont shut up about you.

Atlas is this hot football jock in our friend group who’s been obsessed with me. I’ve never felt it at all.

Before I can answer Belly comes in the room and I smile, “Okay gotta go Frankie.”

She goes to protest but I hang up.

Belly sighs, “Has she maybe talked to Taylor since she got back? We aren’t really speaking.”

I shrug, “Taylor and Frankie hate each other. I doubt it.”

Belly nods and we stand there in silence until I decide to break it. “We should do something.”

Belly’s face lights up which makes my heart warm, “We could go into town, maybe get some muffins before everyone gets up?” I then looked at my clock and it was 8:15. Almost two hours since I saw Conrad. I wondered where he was, even though I shouldn’t.

“Sounds perfect.” I say.

So here me and Belly were walking down the pier with ice cream in our hands. I had a strawberry and she had a chocolate. It was silent, but at least we were doing something.

Me and Belly were like sisters from birth. Luckily, John and my mother were always close growing up, which meant that we would hang out all the time. I even came up to the summer house when I was 3 and 4. So, I’ve basically been coming here the same amount.

We’ve told each other everything. I remember when I had my first kiss. I was 14 and it was late may, right before we went to cousins. Even though it was a dare, I was still freaking out.

“Belly!” I ran into her room. It was 11 at night and it was also 2 nights before we left for cousins.

“What?” She says through a groggy voice.

I jump onto her bed and pull her up straight. “I just had my first kiss.”

“WHAT?” Belly screams but I put my hand over her mouth and her words are muffled.

That night, we sat up talking for hours about crushes and first loves, but we never mentioned Conrad. I felt guilty, because Belly always loved Conrad, but I couldn’t lie.

So did I.

We were best friends, and I eventually realized it bothered Belly, the “invisible string” that Susannah had claimed was there with me and Conrad.

Maybe in a way, it’s better this way? I can get Belly back now that things are over with Conrad.

But then reality seeps in, and I realize after last summer, If Belly found out, nothing would ever be the same again.

—

After hanging out by the pier, me and Belly went our separate ways the rest of the day. The fourth of July was soon, which was Susannah’s favorite holiday. I saw some fireworks in the kitchen earlier which got me excited.

The sun was setting and everyone always seemed to be doing their own thing these days. Steven out with Shayla or at the club with Jeremiah, Belly hanging out with Cam, and Conrad… smoking or with Nicole. I felt kinda blah.

To my surprise, Conrad was in the kitchen. I sent him a small smile and saw he was making crepes. Strawberry crepes.

This damn guy.

Strawberries have been my favorite fruit since I was a little girl. Susannah used to joke I would become one. Some birthdays, Conrad would take me to the pier and get some chocolate covered strawberries.

My face lit up, “Is that what I think it is?”

He smiles a little, and it was the most innocent and pure smile i’ve seen from him all summer. “I was in the mood for them.”

“Well, then you’ll have to understand I’ll be taking one—” I go to grab one but he smacks my hand away.

“Nope.”

I frown, “Why! There’s four right here.”

“Why would I give you one?” He says through a smirk.

“Just because.” I go to grab one again but this time Conrad physically moves in front of me creating a walls between me and the crepes.

“Conrad!” I groan. His hair was falling in front of his face and was messy, always my weakness.

“Just let me have a crepe.” I whine. He shakes his head and then I attempt to grab one in between his stomach and arms but this time he grabs me by the waist and picks me up.

“Conrad! Put me down!” I try not to laugh but it doesn’t work. I can’t help it.

“Nope. Never.”

I wrap my arms around his neck and tug at his hair, put he doesn’t put me down. My head was barried in his neck and his arms were on my waist still.

Eventually I give in until he puts me down on one of the chairs, and his smile was so wide I thought I might die.

“Here. Take one.” He says, putting a crepe on a plate and handing it to me.

We sat there and ate the crepes in silence but it wasn’t a bad silence anymore. It was kinda fine.

Then I realized not being like this with him isn’t the best option, and no matter how much I love Belly, I love Conrad too. Sometimes it feels like he’s apart of me. Like a piece of my heart will always beat for him.

I suddenly felt more lost than I have in a while.

—

A/N: Poor yn, lmao. Fourth of July episode next 😉

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #team jeremiah #tsitp #belly conklin #conrad x reader #love #summer love

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

Keep Me Ablaze

Jake Sully x Neytiri x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: like maybe some slight bullying? tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Two- Savior

—-

“First day of school! How are you feeling?”

You sigh at Grace’s words, already tired from waking up so early.

“Wanna sleep,” you murmur, and she frowns, eyes bright and picks you up. When she’s in her Avatar, like this, you’re practically a feather to her.

“Well, it’s not like school you normally do. You’re just gonna play, help some kids your age learn English. No math, I promise.” When you don’t perk up, she sighs, digs her fingers into your side. “There. There’s that smile, yeah?”

—-

“Grace,” you say, tugging on her shorts, and she simply smiles and places her hand on your head.

“It’ll be fine, baby, relax,” she soothes, but you’re young and scared of newness, so you tug on her anyways. Her hand is comforting, her scent, but you still want to be high up in her arms. No one can reach you when you’re up there.

“Grace! Grace!” the children chant as she walks in, and even through she said that they’re your age, they still tower above you. You feel small, like you’re nothing. Like whatever fire inside of you Aunt Grace says you have is nothing more than an ember.

She told you you’re a wildfire. And maybe you are, but you don’t feel like it.

She greets them in Na’vi, a langage which you know very little of, but enough to make it out. “Hi, hi, how are you?” she laughs as the children reach out to grab her, touch her hair, her clothes, anything.

She hasn’t seen them in weeks- something about tensions, you had heard, before she spotted you trying to hide behind the wall and ushering you out.

Tensions, but what? Grace says you’re too young. But you still want to know. She blames herself for your curiousness, says you got it from her.

Augustine’s are a blessing and a curse, she would say.

Eventually, the children calm down from the excitement, and Grace turns to you.

“Come on out,” she taunts, drawing you out from behind her. “This is my niece, Y/N. Now, she’s the same age as you, but you have to remember to be very careful when you play with her, hm?”

All of the children look at you, some accusatorially, some the same way they looked at Grace. They’re not scared of newness. They’re not like you.

You smile, even though you don’t mean it, until Grace is pulled away to talk to another adult and all of the children go back to playing. The school is simple, one room in a small building, carpet and posters on the wall. Bookshelves on the far side- where one of the lights is dim, casting a shadow, and you find yourself gravitating towards it.

All of the Na’vi children are too engrossed in their own games to notice you, a tiny little human, so you sit and lean against the bookshelf anyways. You sigh, until you look up.

A girl sits just near you, eyes wide like yours, behind the large chair.

You gasp, and hope she doesn’t feel offended, but she seems as surprised as you.

“Sorry,” you say, calming your racing heart. “I can- I can go.”

You see her chest rise and fall, fast, but her face doesn’t betray anything.

“No, it’s fine,” she whispers.

“I’m- I’m Y/N. Grace is my aunt.”

She stifles a laugh. “Your Na’vi bad,” she says in English, and you smile and laugh yourself. She frowns, thinks over her words. “Is bad. Your Na’vi is bad.”

You nod, and she smiles to herself, seemingly proud.

“I- I am Neytiri.”

“Hi, Neytiri,” you say, in Na’vi, and she laughs at your pronunciation.

—-

“You’re a human.”

You look up from your coloring book, red pencil dropping to the table, eyes meeting with the Na’vi boy in front of you.

“Yes?” you say, although it sounds more like a question.

“My father says the humans are skawngs.”

“Okay?” you mumble, tucking your chin to your chest, wishing someone would save you. A door to open. A star to fall.

You knew that some of the kids would taunt you- but had you truly done anything other than be born into the wrong body?

When Neytiri sits next to you, it’s not a surprise. The two of you gravitate towards each other, have similar flames. You burn the same way.

What is surprising is the force which she slams the box of crayons down with.

You look up, eyes wide, only to find her staring down the boy in front of her, one hand on the box and the other digging into the table.

“Go away,” she hisses, a break of pure rage in between her words.

The boy scoffs, and she tilts her head. Taunting him, challenging him. He falters, but covers it up with a mumble about how it wasn’t that big of a deal and walking away with his friends trailing behind.

She pulls out the chair next to you, a noticeable difference from where she was sitting across from you before, you you choose not to mention it. Her eyes are still stuck on the group of boys in the corner, daring them.

“Thank you, Neytiri,” you say, because Grace was always adamant that you had good manners. She has good manners too, she just didn’t use them all the time.

“It is nothing,” she says, picking up a green crayon.

“You saved me,” you joke. She stops, and you can’t even look down to see what she’s drawing because her eyes are staring so deeply into yours.

“It is nothing,” she repeats, almost as if she would do more for you.

—-

“Come on, Y/N,” Neytiri pleads, tugging you along.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” you hiss, and she shoots you a look over her shoulder.

“Lying.”

“‘M not!”

She smiles and rolls her eyes playfully, and you scoff.

She leads you deeper and further into the forest, and if you were with anyone else, or by yourself, you would be scared. But it’s Neytiri. She would never hurt you.

“Where are you even taking me again?” you grumble, and Neytiri looks over her shoulder again.

“You will like it!” she exclaims. “Promise.”

Even so far away from Hometree, from Grace, you know nothing will happen to you with Neytiri here. She has always saved you, whether it be from a falling book or from a mean Na’vi boy at the school.

You don’t know why. She says you have a strong heart, that your fire burns bright.

That’s all anyone has told you all your life. That whatever fire is inside of you, inside of everyone, it bruns bright. It burns like a wildfire.

But you don’t feel that way.

Neytiri points to a tree just off the path. “You see that? I know that tree. It means we’re close.”

“To what?”

“You will see!”

The foliage is thick and overwhelming, hanging over you and crushing you in. Neytiri’s hand slips from your wrists, fingers melding with you own. She tugs you up the path, closer, next to her, a bright smile on her face.

Finally, the plants seem to start to thin, lean another way, until Neytiri guides you around a large grey rock and you see it.

“It’s beautiful!” you gasp, walking forward to lean in front of the water, dip your fingers in, ruin the stillness.

“Look,” Neytiri guides, and you follow her hand to the patch of flowers growing, hanging over the edge. They look over it like something sad, something vain, always needing to see the reflection. “They only grow by ponds, like this-” she continues.

“Aunt Grace doesn’t have this one in her book.”

You lean forward, thumb the velvet soft petal.

“Her book?”

“She has a book, all about the different plants on Pandora. I’ve read it front to back- this one isn’t in it.”

“Oh, I see.” Neytiri mumbles, crouching down next to you. She touches the flower too, fingertips pulling down on edge of it. It’s a blue flower, fading right into the blue of Neytiri. But it’s decorated with little white spots, like the stars on her face.

“It looks like you.”

You look toward her, only to see her staring at the flower accusingly. “Like me?”

You bite back your laugh. “Yeah, you see?” You grab her hand, unfurl her palm and place it under the edge of the petal. She blends right into it.

“Oh,” she smiles, “you’re right. And- the little white dots, just like my stars?”

“Yeah!” you smile, turning back to the water after seeing something move out of the corner of your eye.

She tells you what kind of fish live in this pond, but her eyes keeps going back to the flower.

It’s silent, for a minute, just the two of you in the midst of everything.

“Y/N,” Neytiri asks, and when you turn she is sitting behind you, neck craned to look at the flower.

“Yes?” you say, and she turns to you.

“You never said. Do you- do you think that i- it’s pretty? The flower?”

“It’s beautiful,” you say with a smile, and she waits for a moment before smiling back.

—-

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Neytiri,” you smile, looking up from whatever you were doing- now long forgotten.

“How are you?” you smile at her question, because she only says that when she’s nervous.

You tilt your head to the side, and she sighs.

“Okay. I- I have something for you?”

Your heart skips a beat and you feel like you’re being consumed by the fire that roars inside you.

“A gift?”

“Your- your book,” she starts, sitting down next to you on the floor, your knees touching, her hand behind her back. “The one about the plants? The flowers? This one…” she moves her hand out from behind her back, “is from high on the mountains. Where the humans aren’t allowed. I thought-”

She trails off, looking at you oddly, but your eyes are fixed on the soft pink flower in front of you. It looks like something from earth- a tulip, maybe, not like something from Pandora. Isn’t that amazing? That some things like that can surpass the universe? Simple, soft beauty like that.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Ah!” you shout, finally coming to your senses, leaning forward to wrap your arms around her shoulders.

She’s still for a second, silent, until she lets out a small laugh, one arm carefully wrapping around your waist.

When you pull back, on your knees now to even reach her height, she smiles and hands you the flower.

You grin up at her before looking down, entranced by the flower. Your hair falls out from behind your ears, but Neytiri is quick to push it back.

She looks at you like you are the most beautiful fire, swirling and raging like a storm, held back by nothing but your own will.

“My human,” she says, not knowing this will be the last time she’ll see you burn like this for years.

—-

taglist:

@kitkat1690 @tiajk @reallysparklychaos @behindthearcane @neteyamforlife @aeslenya @ghoulbli @luvvsnae @personapersonally @bubble-blu @ameriesworld @itsyoboysparkel @ok-boke @arschbohrer @ambria @ssc7514 @w3ird11 @vane28282 @littlexscarletxwitch @erenjaegerwifee @eywas-heir

#jake sully x neytiri #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader

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inairbinad · 11 months

Text

Steve's Got a Date with a Vampire!

part one of seven | 4.9k | AO3 Now Complete!

Where Eddie wakes up a little bit different, Steve is obsessed, and Dustin gets his Meddling Kids Platinum Badge™. I know I posted a couple teasers from the last chapter of this over the weekend, but friendly reminder that this is primarily an idiots to lovers fic, and they take their sweet ass time getting there. Warnings: None for this part, except the obvious mentions of blood.

Steve didn’t ever really leave Eddie’s bedside, while he was sleeping. The only breaks he took were to shower or go visit Max down the hall. Most nights he stayed past visiting hours, the nursing staff having long given up on trying to stop him falling asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair—oftentimes with Lucas's head resting on his shoulder.

One of those nights, with Steve already leveled with exhaustion and barely holding his own head up, Robin came in to sit with him.

“Steve,” she all but whispered.

“I’m okay, Rob,” he said automatically. “Just gonna rest my eyes for a bit, then I’ll drive you home.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Robin said, sounding fondly annoyed. “Nancy’s gonna drive me. But—don’t you think you should go home and get some rest?” she tried.

They’d had this conversation every day for the last three, now. Steve hadn’t yet relented.

“I’m just gonna worry if I go home,” he said honestly. “I won’t sleep. At least here I know they’re both still breathing.”

Eddie had made strides in that regard, at least; they’d extubated him earlier that day. There still weren’t any signs of him waking up, though, and there was no change at all with Max.

Robin sighed, apparently having expected that answer. She was quiet for a minute, as they both listened to the slow beep of Eddie’s heart monitor.

“Can I ask you something?” Robin asked, voice still low. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, to be clear.”

Steve had an idea of what was coming next and let it happen anyway.

“Sure,” he said.

“This,” she started, gesturing towards Steve slumped in his chair, “is more than just guilt, isn’t it?”

Of course Robin knew. She always went on about how she couldn’t read social cues very well, but Steve couldn’t ever get anything past her. Maybe it was their “telepathic brain thing” that Dustin always complained about them doing. Sometimes it weirded Steve out a little, but right now he was just grateful for it. For Robin.

“No,” he said. His voice sounded small. “It’s hardly guilt at all, really.”

Robin just made little humming noise to herself. Steve took that to mean she wanted him to keep going.

“I mean, I wish we’d done things differently, obviously” Steve said, laughing bitterly so that he wouldn’t cry instead. He’d go back and do things over a thousand times not to end up here again. “I wish I’d stayed with him and Dustin, maybe. Or dealt with Jason when we’d had the chance…” he trailed off, thinking of Max down the hall, Lucas’s swollen face, and the way Erica jumped at every loud noise now. “I’d do a lot differently—or I wouldn’t do it at all. But I blame Vecna more than I blame myself, believe it or not.”

He couldn’t quite figure out what Robin was thinking, or what the look she was giving him meant. Her eyes were soft, a little sad, but also something else.

“I just,” Steve started, but he didn’t know how to say it out loud. Except he knew Robin was waiting for him to, and that she’d be proud of him if he did. The promise of that propelled Steve forward. “I can’t lose him, Robin. Not when I just got him.”

Steve didn’t think he had Eddie, not really. He just knew how Eddie’s teasing grin made his insides warm. How whichever pet name for Steve fell out of his lips at any given moment made him almost forget the apocalypse they were fighting together. Steve didn’t need to have Eddie as his own, he thought. He just needed to know he was alive, that Steve had more days ahead of Eddie invading his personal space, and leaving Steve breathless when he left his scent of smoke and something spicy in his wake.

“You won’t,” Robin said, something steely in her voice now as she grabbed Steve's hand and squeezed. “Neither of them are going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

Steve did his best to believe her.

———

On the seventh morning of Eddie’s hospital stay, Steve dragged himself into Eddie’s room like usual. Coffee didn’t really do much to quell his exhaustion these days, but he sipped on some anyway as he got to his new routine. He played one of Eddie’s cassettes—quietly, as he’d gotten plenty of dirty looks from the nurses for being too loud before—humming along as he pulled a chair up next to Eddie’s bed. He was so still, Steve couldn’t help reaching out to thread his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, just to feel his pulse still beating away.

This time it stuttered under Steve’s touch. That was new. Steve looked at Eddie’s face, confused. He looked peaceful, like this. His skin was still cool to the touch, but his breathing was even, pulse slow and now jumpy. Was that a good sign?

“Hey, Munson,” Steve said, settling in. He let his grip around Eddie’s wrist loosen, leaving his hand to cover Eddie’s own instead. “It’s been seven days in here, now. Three since you’ve been breathing on your own again. Max is still asleep, too. I wish I had better news. Dustin misses you. I miss you,” Steve sighed and tried to think of something cheerful to share.

“The press does seem to be buying the government’s alternate serial killer theory, since it’s simpler than ’Satan did it,’ I guess. Wayne said the police are working on closing the case against you, so that’s a relief, at least.” Steve dropped his head into his free hand. What good was clearing Eddie’s name if he wouldn’t wake up to see it himself?

“I was wondering why I wasn’t handcuffed to the bed,” a surprisingly smooth and awake voice said above him.

Steve’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. Eddie was looking down at him already, his brown eyes darker, somehow. But they were open, bright, and alive. Steve felt his mouth stretch into a wide grin. He didn’t know what to say for what felt like a long time, just smiling stupidly at Eddie.

“Disappointed by that?” Steve finally replied, then immediately felt like kicking himself. Here Eddie was, waking up from a coma, and Steve couldn’t even figure out how to say something normal. Something like, how are you feeling or can I get you some water, sprang to mind too late. But apparently all Steve’s stupid little brain could manage was something not-so-vaguely flirtatious under Eddie’s gaze.

But Eddie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, if Steve wasn’t totally deluding himself, it seemed like Eddie liked it. He didn’t blush, but he looked flustered. Hungry. Steve let that revelation settle deep into his bones, warm and pooling like syrup.

Then he got his shit together.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, squeezing Eddie’s hand. He was still cold. Eddie’s gaze flicked down to Steve’s neck and back. If Steve hadn’t been analyzing Eddie’s every move—for any sign that he might break, might fall back into a coma, might leave again—he’d have probably missed it.

“Starving,” was all Eddie said with a devilish grin.

Steve watched, somewhat dazed, as Eddie let the doctors marvel over his recovery for about forty-five minutes before checking himself out against medical advice. His bites had already scarred over, completely healed in somewhat miraculous fashion. The doctor’s seemed mildly concerned about Eddie’s circulation, given how much blood he’d lost and how slow his pulse still was. But all of his tests were normal, had been for days now. He didn’t seem to have any muscle atrophy, no loss of brain function. He was just Eddie.

So Steve didn’t argue when Eddie asked him to drive him home as soon as possible. Steve wheeled Eddie down the hall to visit Max before he took him back to the motel where Wayne was staying. Eddie had complained loudly about the wheelchair, only relenting when Steve gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “Humor me.”

They sat with Max for a while, sobering Steve’s giddiness at Eddie’s complete turnaround. But Steve knew if anyone had the strength in them to do the same, it was Max Mayfield.

No one was here visiting yet—it was still early by anyone but Steve’s standards. So they took their time talking to her, Eddie giving her the daily update like Steve had done for him. He gave Steve a knowing grin as he said, “We all miss you, Red.”

Steve was too busy looking at his feet in embarrassment, so he didn’t notice Eddie hopping out of his wheelchair at lightning speed.

Then Eddie was in his space again, quicker than Steve had time to even account for. Eddie turned into Steve’s neck and whispered, “Cover for me, Stevie.”

Then he dipped down the hallway and into the stairwell.

Steve fumbled to recover for a minute, wondering what on earth had just happened. He looked to Max’s sleeping face as if maybe she’d know. Steve imagined her usual lazy shrug and his heart ached.

Sure enough, a minute later one of the younger nurses came looking for Eddie with discharge paperwork. Bewildered as he was, Steve could handle this part. He leaned against the door frame next to her and grinned.

“I think he went back to his room for something,” Steve said, before putting on the most convincing show of fake flirting he could muster. It still wasn’t his best—Steve was mostly still thinking of Eddie whispering into his neck and ear—but it worked well enough to distract her. Steve was actually surprised to see her face fall when he brushed her off for Eddie’s return.

Take that, Robin, he thought, picturing her damned tally board. Steve thought this whole endeavor probably warranted a point in the ‘You Rule’ column, but he didn’t care much. He was too busy watching Eddie saunter over to his side with his now-zipped jacket suspiciously full looking, and his grin bright.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand, shall we?”

Steve was too busy caught up in the thrill of Eddie—alive, probably healthy as Steve had ever seen him, laughing breathlessly as they made their escape to Steve’s car—to even ask what he’d been covering for. He wondered if they’d just robbed the hospital pharmacy.

Eddie seemed to wilt a bit once they got outside and the sun peeked out from behind a cloud overhead, hitting him straight in the face.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, ducking back into the shade by the doors. “Didn’t think of that.”

“What?” Steve asked, offering his sunglasses over. Eddie accepted them with a grateful smile, then took a tentative step back into the sunshine.

“It’s nothing,” he said, seeming to relax a little once the sunglasses were on. Steve couldn’t help but notice they looked good on him. “Help me to the car, would you?”

So Steve did, offering Eddie an arm to lean on as they made their way through the parking lot. Steve eyed him carefully, but didn’t ask questions.

Well, at least not until they got into the beemer. That’s when Eddie immediately pulled something out of his jacket—was that donated blood?—then tore into the bag and sucked its contents down like, well, water.

Then Steve had questions. The first of which being a hearty, “The fuck?”

Eddie drained the bag and let his head fall back to rest on the seat, exposing the column of his neck. Steve swallowed, cursing his brain to pay attention to what the hell was happening instead of being a slut for once. Eddie lolled his head to look at Steve and gave him a gleaming, bloody smile.

“So, funny story,” he paused. If Steve had to guess it must’ve been for dramatic effect. “I think I’m a vampire.”

———

Admittedly, the whole vampire revelation made Steve a little anxious in a what-in-the-Vecna-fuckery sort of way, but he didn’t trust Eddie any less over it. Just because he was on the slithering asshole’s radar, Steve didn’t understand why he’d have to worry about Eddie being mind-controlled by Vecna anymore that he did for Max or Will. The whole vampire bit was admittedly a curveball, but so was the rest of Steve’s life at this point.

All the same, Eddie himself had insisted that they give it a few days before letting him around the kids, to be sure. Dustin only gave it twenty-four hours before calling a “family meeting” and inviting everyone over to Steve’s. Steve had not been consulted, but what else was new?

So there he sat, Eddie sandwiched between himself and Robin on his couch, while Mike, Lucas, and Dustin took turns pacing in front of them.

The kids eventually devolved into having a rapid-fire debate about some dude called Kas—who apparently destroyed things? Steve wasn’t sure it really mattered. Dustin kept yelling something about Kas and betrayal, whatever that meant, but Mike was countering with something about evil and alignments. Steve guessed it wasn’t about any dark desires from a chiropractor.

Eddie had finally had enough of their bickering and whistled for them to shut up.

“Look, kiddos. I want a Vecna-free brain just as much as you guys. Well, more than you guys do,” he paused to fiddle with his rings. Steve wondered if they weren’t real silver, or if that was just a myth. Then he realized he’d thought all vampire-related things were myths up until yesterday. He shook himself out of his thoughts as Eddie continued. “If he is secretly hanging out in the ol’ noggin, I can’t tell. But don’t you all keep telling me about a girl with mind-reading abilities? Think she could suss him out?”

The room went silent, blessedly, for maybe one-and-a-half seconds.

“Genius!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Where’s El?" Mike asked Lucas at the same time.

“Will that work?” Lucas questioned over everyone else.

“One at a time, Jesus,” Steve cut in, rubbing his eyes. When he stopped, Eddie was looking at him with some emotion Steve couldn’t quite interpret. He stopped trying and turned back to the kids, who stood there staring at him like they were waiting for assignments. Steve sighed, and pointed at Mike. “You first, Wheeler.”

Mike turned to Lucas. “Was El still at the hospital when you left?”

She spent most of her time with either Hopper or Max these days, so it was a fair assumption.

“She was,” Lucas confirmed. “Is that something you think she can do?”

“Probably,” Mike shrugged.

“Definitely,” Will amended, speaking up for the first time in a while.

And so that’s how Steve ended up going to get El so she could “do a proper seance” on Eddie’s brain, as he’d put it.

“I don’t feel him,” El said about an hour later. “Your mind is strange.”

Robin failed to hide her snickering behind her hand.

“Believe me, kid, I know,” Eddie agreed with a grin.

With everyone more relaxed after that, Eddie regaled the kids with his tale of evading tipping off the nurses to his being awake while he pieced together that he’d woken up not quite…human.

“So I played dead,” Eddie told them and flopped on the floor like a sack of dead weight, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth and everything. Steve watched the hem of Eddie’s shirt ride up just far enough to give him a glimpse of the worst of his scarring. They already seemed to have faded again since the day before. “And hoped like hell I wouldn’t eat anyone before I could figure out how to get down to the blood bank. Then Stevie came to my rescue.” He flashed Steve an exaggerated wink and whisked himself back to his feet as he told everyone how waking up felt.

Eddie apparently had a lot of weird dreams while he was still under, too. When Dustin asked, Eddie explained how most were like watching his body turn cold, like steel—or dreams about blood. He recounted waking up and being overwhelmed by feeling almost everything around him, of being able to hear the heartbeat of the patient in the next room over before the monitor even registered it with a beep.

As an added bonus, Eddie also enjoyed showing off the fangs.

Steve had to work to control his face every time Eddie popped those out. Steve thought the fangs should be freaking him out, but they didn’t in the slightest. To the point where Steve thought maybe there was something wrong with his fight or flight response after one-too-many trips to a different dimension. A normal person would be scared, not inexplicably turned on by the thought of them sinking into the flesh of their neck.

In the interest of not exposing himself as a lovestruck idiot to absolutely everyone in the room—Robin absolutely already knew, based on the looks she’d been shooting him all afternoon—Steve excused himself to the patio for a smoke break. He didn’t usually smoke much anymore, unless he was drinking, largely due to Robin’s incessant nagging about it. But Steve was pretty sure if he had to keep his blossoming crush on his friend the vampire in check, he’d need a lot more nicotine to distract himself.

Except Eddie slid out of the patio door to join him. Steve offered him one from his own pack wordlessly. Eddie accepted with a toothy—but thankfully fang-free—grin.

“Do these do anything for you anymore?” Steve asked, suddenly curious.

“Not really,” Eddie shrugged. “I just wouldn’t know what to do with my hands if I quit. Or for an excuse to leave the room when I’m uncomfortable.”

Steve huffed out a nervous laugh, unsure if that was meant to be Eddie calling him out. Unwilling to really find out, Steve stayed quiet and stared up at the few stars that were starting to show themselves.

“Are you sure you wanna let me drive them home?” Eddie asked after a minute, staring determinedly at his shoes. Steve didn’t know what the hell to make of that question.

“I’m not your mother, Munson,” he tried for a lighter tone.

“True,” Eddie smirked, “but you’re kind of theirs, though.”

Fair, Steve thought. But he still wasn’t sure what Eddie was actually getting at. “What’s this about?”

Eddie sighed and stubbed out his cigarette with a frustrated flourish. “I guess I’m asking if you’re sure you trust me to be around them. By myself. When I’m like…this.”

Steve almost laughed, but managed to hold it in once he saw that Eddie was being serious. He was tucking into himself like a pill bug, like he was expecting the fear and revulsion to finally come rolling off of Steve in waves.

Steve had wondered if it was a delayed reaction on his part, as well, and if eventually he’d be disgusted or freaked out by the whole situation. So far those feelings showed no threat of surfacing, and Steve didn’t really think that they would, either.

Instead, all he felt was relief. He was relieved that Eddie was still alive. Or, well, kind of alive. He never really mastered the logistics of all the vampire movies Robin has made him watch. And really, after all of the Upside Down creatures that had tried to eat them over the years, Eddie seemed positively tame.

Most importantly, he seemed like himself.

So, gently, Steve reached his hand across the empty expanse between them and laid it on Eddie’s forearm. Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own.

“I trust you,” Steve said, putting every ounce of sincerity he could muster into the look they shared. Eddie seemed to believe it, because after a moment he deflated, melting back to lean against the house. “And more importantly, so do they,” Steve added, jerking his head back towards the kids inside.

“Your trust is pretty important to me, too, Harrington,” Eddie admitted with an almost shy smile.

Steve sucked whatever he could out of the last dregs of his cigarette and prayed for the strength to survive being a total goner for Eddie Munson.

———

Max seemed to be improving physically, but there were still no signs of her waking up anytime soon. The longer she slept, and the more things deteriorated in town, the more everyone wanted to find Vecna and finish the job.

Soon enough they all coalesced around a plan to end the Upside Down nonsense once and for all. With El and Will back in town, and Eddie’s newfound enhanced abilities of his own, it didn’t take much. Especially once they realized their old friends the demobats were now more inclined to follow Eddie’s lead than “Old Slitherfuck,” as he called Vecna.

One spring night they snuck into the Upside Down one last time and ended things for good. Max woke up in Lucas’s arms the moment Vecna was done and dusted, and El closed the gates for what they all hoped was the final time.

And now? Well. Now everyone was trying to get back to normal. Or as normal as they could be when they had to figure out ways to steal blood for the vampire in their friend group.

So on they went, trying to settle into yet another new set of skin. Eddie was still wary of himself, Steve could tell, but he never withdrew into isolation or tried to convince everyone they were better off without him.

Which was good, because everyone wanted Eddie around that much more.

Dustin wanted nothing more than to test his abilities, and did test whatever Eddie would let him get away with. Robin asked if they could have vampire movie nights, or if Eddie would find that insensitive (he heartily agreed to it). Nancy had a million questions like the good reporter she was, and she and Dustin often piggybacked off each other’s ideas. Mike tended to go between staring at Eddie in awe and wondering if maybe his sexuality was just “people with superpowers.”

Or at least that’s what Steve and Robin assumed when no one else was listening (and Robin wasn’t pointing out Steve’s own crush on a certain vampire).

Steve was just doing his best to cope. He was getting used to the whole “Eddie Munson is now an undead vampire” situation. Really, he was.

Was he sometimes inexplicably a little bit jealous that he apparently didn’t get enough demobat venom to also be turned? Jealous that he wasn’t the one with superhuman strength and outright awe from the kids at his mere existence? If he was, Steve wasn’t willing to admit it out loud. Because he knew where the jealousy was really coming from, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit how attractive he found Eddie’s new set of pearly whites, no matter how many times Robin tried to get him to.

With everyone’s support (and curiosity), it didn’t take very long for Eddie to finally relish his adaptation into an immortal being either. They’d determined that the sun was hard on him—it made him feel sluggish and itchy, “like Kryptonite"—but he didn’t burst into flame under its rays. Usually he just wore sunglasses and carried around an umbrella like an old-timey gentlewoman who didn’t want to accidentally gain a freckle.

Eddie had been a night-owl before, anyway, so nothing much had really changed there either. Silver didn’t hurt him, mirrors still worked on him, and garlic only made him sneeze. No one was willing to check if a wooden stake would do anything, and Eddie seemed as glad of that as Steve was. Other than the commanding an army of bats, invulnerability, and the obvious diet changes, Eddie didn’t seem all that different.

It was driving Steve wild.

The simplest of flirtatious remarks sent him into a tailspin most days. And Eddie was full of flirtatious remarks by default. The more Steve let on that the flirting flustered him, the more elaborate Eddie got with it.

Eddie’s retelling of his and Steve’s escape from the hospital became more embellished, as well. Steve didn’t exactly know what had happened before he’d arrived to visit that morning, but he was pretty sure it didn’t involve a ravenous Eddie hanging upside down from the hospital ceiling to avoid being caught out of bed while he looked for the blood bank, like Eddie claimed.

Once, he was regaling Will and Dustin with his harrowing journey down into the basement on the “hunt for blood,” as he stood on top of the coffee table in Steve’s living room. (Steve did not have it in him to object to this, a bit of a double standard that Robin mocked him mercilessly over.) Steve was only half paying attention—he’d been there, thank you very much, he remembered what actually happened—from the kitchen while dumping a bag of chips into a bowl.

He perked up though when Eddie said, “Steve was pitifully flirting with a nurse for my benefit—“

“Hey!” Steve protested as he made his way back to the living room. He shoved the bowl into Eddie’s chest and flopped on the sofa next to Will. “She was into it.”

“I could tell your heart wasn’t in it, sweetheart,” Eddie said, and shot Steve a wink. It was so simple, barely even a blip on anyone else's radar, but it had Steve feeling heated through.

Steve tried not to melt into the floor as Will gave him a sideways glance. He did his best to ignore it. The last thing he needed was for someone other than Robin to needle him about his ridiculous behavior.

That particular desire was quickly snuffed out by one Dustin Henderson, though.

———

One day in May, Dustin cornered Steve on their way out of the Henderson house.

“Do you have a problem with Eddie?” Dustin asked him, point blank in his hallway. Steve was suddenly very grateful that Claudia was not at home at the moment.

“No?” Steve couldn’t help but let it become a question. Dustin narrowed his eyes.

“Well, it seems like you do. All you ever do is stare at him, you barely talk, you act like you’re going to jump out of your skin if he even looks at you. Are you afraid of him or something?” Dustin’s face softened, like he was trying not to be quite as harsh as usual. There was still a fierceness there, though, that Steve knew was just born of protectiveness over Eddie.

“No,” Steve replied without hesitation. “Even though you might think that’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to have to our friend the newborn vampire, I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well that’s just it!” Dustin half-yelled, throwing his hands in the air. He just barely missed clipping Steve’s nose. “He’s our friend, but you’re back to treating him like some kind of freak. So if you’re not afraid of him, I’d like to know why you’re being a dick.”

Steve flinched. Dustin wasn’t outright saying it, but he got the implication all the same; you’re acting like King Steve again.

He so violently wanted to reject the accusation that he considered telling Dustin the truth.

It wasn’t like Dustin didn’t accept queer people. He knew about Robin now—thank god—and practically mooned over her for weeks with how cool he found it. Steve was pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t react any differently to finding out he was also a member of the fruit basket, as Robin had dubbed them.

Steve took in the sheer disappointment on Dustin’s face and sighed. He retreated into the living room and plopped on the couch, restlessly running his hands through his hair. Tews came up to him and rubbed her cheek against his pant leg. He gratefully scratched her ears.

Steve knew if he just admitted to the jealousy, Dustin would feel better, but wouldn’t entirely lose that kicked-puppy look. ‘I just want my dads to get along,’ he’d taken to whining whenever he felt like Steve and Eddie weren’t bonding to his specifications. Steve tried not to spontaneously combust each time any of the kids referred to him and Eddie as such.

Fuck it, Steve thought. He knew Dustin would latch on to his confession like Dart with a Three Musketeers, and Steve dreaded the conclusions he’d jump to. But he couldn’t stand to disappoint the kid. He took a deep breath in as Dustin sat beside him. For once, he’d kept his mouth shut instead of berating Steve into submission. He waited patiently, quiet.

“I’m not afraid of him,” Steve said again. “I don’t think he’s a freak. I’m not turning back into King Steve.” He gave Dustin a pained look, who had the grace to look a bit sheepish in response. “I like him, okay?”

“You don’t seem like you—“

“No, Dust,” Steve interrupted. He held Dustin’s gaze this time, hoping he’d connect the dots without too much explanation on Steve’s part. “I like him. I stare and barely talk and tense up because he makes me nervous. But in the butterflies in your stomach kind of way, not the oh god he’s going to kill us all in our sleep kind of way.”

Dustin stayed silent, but his eyes were wide as saucers. Steve wondered if he should give himself a pat on the back for rendering Dustin Henderson speechless for possibly the first time ever.

“You okay?” Steve asked instead, picking at his pant leg. Steve was nearly certain Dustin wouldn’t care that he was bisexual, sure. But he couldn’t help but worry that Dustin still wouldn’t approve—that Steve wouldn’t be good enough, not for Eddie, not in Dustin’s eyes.

Dustin had a knack for surprising Steve, though.

“This is amazing,” he said, eyes practically fucking sparkling with delight.

[PART TWO]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #stranger things #vampire!eddie #dani's drafts #steve's got a date

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coldhndss · 4 months

Text

Tulip 2/2 ft. Isagi. Y

You slumped back onto your bed, photo frame still in hand.

You had always expected it to end like this anyways. Your selfishness always took precedence over other people’s feelings, especially those who cared most about you.

You found yourself unable to cry.

Regret reverberated throughout your entire body, and what ate away at you most was that you knew Yoichi would be blaming your mistakes on him.

All you wanted was to apologise. You used to take it as a privilege, never imagining he would stray so far from your grasp.

Maybe a nap would wash it all away.

Until you woke up, that was.

You wake abruptly to the sudden sound of knocking.

Checking your phone, you find that 2 hours have passed.

“Coming!” You call out, looking in the mirror to tidy yourself up before opening the door. You notice that your cheeks were streaked with dried tears.

He crosses your mind, but you quickly dismiss even the mere idea of him being there. After all you’ve done, do you really think he’ll give you even a thought?

He wouldn’t come to see you first thing after being inside a training facility for months. He’d definitely visit people who actually care for him.

Your heart beats heavily within the confines of your body.

You reach for the doorknob, twist it, and open it.

Surely the person knocking on your door in the middle of the day right after you woke up from the specific time slot that you allocated for sleep every afternoon, wouldn’t be him.

Though, he was always particular about not hindering you or interrupting your free time, always making sure he had an idea of the times that you’re busy, or how you were feeling before approaching you.

Surely, it wasn’t:

“Yoichi..?”

No, no this isn’t him. He looks completely different from what you remember. He looks.. taller? He’s standing with confidence and his entire demeanor is different..

Though..

“Hey, y/n..”

But his smile is exactly as you remember.

The way the corners of his lips curve upwards, and as lets out a joyful, yet awkward laugh stringing along with his words. The way he gets too nervous to maintain direct eye-contact, and glances towards the wall or the floor after greeting you.

The way he looks back up at you timidly, seeking validation.

It was all the same.

“Listen uh, I’m really sorry for.. everything” He spoke with a soft, sympathetic tone.

You were not about to let this opportunity go, you refused to lose him again. Cupping his face in your hands and looking him straight in his eyes, you said “Don’t apologise. I don’t want you blaming yourself for my mistakes anymore”.

He reaches for your forearms with both hands and gently holds them as your hands remain on his face. You feel the heat of his cheeks in the palm of your hands as he looks downwards in embarrassment.

Inching closer, he rests his forehead on your head and exhales softly.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you. I want to live up to what you expect of me, y/n.” He coyly responded.

“Yoichi, that’s not something you need to worry about. We’re not kids anymore, that stuff doesn’t matter” You paused and took a slow deep breath. You can finally get it off your chest.

“Yet, I’m sorry for ignoring you before you left, I don’t even want to imagine the way I made you felt. I.. I was so selfish..” You shuffled your feet, embarrassed. Your face began to heat up, and before you knew it, a tear dropped down your right cheek.

You lifted a hand to wipe it, but Yoichi had beaten you to it.

“That’s not true. I was in the wrong from the moment I hesitated to tell you about everything”. He wiped your tear with his thumb before tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

He smiled; “This entire time, I was preparing what to say to you, and yet, you still managed to stump me”. Yoichi clasped his arms around you tightly yet gently and held you close. The grasp of his body felt different to before, and his newfound confidence brought you closure. He held you in his arms as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. Your heart resounded within your chest with every beat becoming louder and bearing more pressure.

Your arms remained by your side.

Giving in was not something you were prepared to do. Not in your current mindset.

The way he had changed so much, yet so little.. It made you think;

Maybe it is okay to change. To leave my bad habits behind and stop finding new ways to run away from my problems. To take a page out of Yoichi’s book, and finally leave my wrongs in the past.

You eventually gave in and wrapped your arms around his back, squeezing as tightly as you were able to. Without him, you would’ve been stuck in a loop of your congested mind, continuously likening every one of your lies with the truths of someone else.

“y/n..?” He suddenly spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Um.. you’re squeezing me a bit too tight” He chuckled.

“..Sorry”

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ultrone · 9 months

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─ ౨ৎ ‧˚ oldersister!shauna who literally cried when she found out that she was gonna have a little sibling because she wanted to keep being an only child ☠️

little shauna pleaded and pleaded with your parents, begging them to ask the storks to cancel the delivery of the baby. she cried when they explained it was too late and that you would be arriving in a month or two.

on the day you were born, your dad drove her to the hospital to meet you. at first, she was angry and refused to see you, crossing her little arms with a frown on her face. however, the moment she held you in her arms, she burst into tears because you were so tiny and adorable.

─ ౨ৎ ‧˚ sum random hcs

when you were little, she would play with you all the time, taking you everywhere as if you were her little doll. she’d take care of you as if you were her own baby, asking your mom to put her breast milk on a bottle so that she could feed you, helping your mom shower you—she had to stand up on a stool in order to reach the sink 😭 she even wanted to train you on how to use the potty ☠️

as you grew up though, she grew out of it. of course, you still hang out often, but y’all aren’t the type of siblings who are always very lovey-dovey.

she doesn’t bully you but she’s mean on a daily basis—as a joke obviously. she enjoys it a bit too much tho.

for instance, you once asked to teach you soccer and she said “i don’t like soccer kys” ☠️

she actually does feel bad if she’s too mean tho. like she’ll say the meanest shit ever, go to her room, overthink it and then cry about it thinking that she might’ve actually hurt your feelings. she won’t apologize tho, and if she does, she’ll do it casually so that it seems like it didn’t affect her that much.

and if someone's ever mean at you or hurts you in any way, she’ll get pissed off and will defend you to death. she’s the only one who’s allowed to be mean at you. type of person to literally act passive aggressive and keep saying sarcastic shit to the person she’s angry at for MONTHS.

owns a guinea pig and doesn’t let you get near it cuz one time when you were kids, you died its hair green with a spray can 😭 she got SO pissed and cried cuz she thought it was gonna die.

whenever she loses something she immediately blames it on you, making a whole ass scene and then finding out that it was in her room. “just found it nvm” “are you kidding me??? fuck you” “🖕🏻🖕🏻”

her treatment depends on the day though, sometimes she wakes up and for some reason she feels like being sweet to you.

“i made you pancakes when i woke up, they’re on the kitchen counter, just heat them up”

[2:33am] “why are u awake?? anyway, wanna go get a slushy? i’ll drive”

gets annoyed when she sees you biting your nails, will slap your hand immediately while she rolls her eyes.

shauna: “hey u ok?” you: “no ☹️” shauna: “ok just checking in”

but then she’ll knock on your door and bring you your favorite ice cream 🍨

she takes board games very seriously, gets very aggressive and actually gets mad if she’s losing 😭 like she’ll quit and go to her room.

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x y/n #shauna shipman x you

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heliads · 2 years

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hii! if you do still write for the maze runner, could i have a minho and reader fic, kinda enemies to lovers where she gets drunk one night and insists on sitting next him and hes just really snarky and confused?she ends up laying her head on his shoulder and is completely enamoured by his hands? (absentmindedly plays with it,admires it) and the others notice it and tease them relentlessly, maybe he has to carry her to bed and she asks pleads for him to stay? and the next morning they get teased even more?? totally fine if you dont want to but thanks!!!💕

omg enemies to lovers with minho

masterlist

Minho only has time for two things right now: one, making it out of the Maze long enough to scratch out the day’s findings in the Map Room, and two, his best friend Newt. Today isn’t like the other days, although it seems like it due to the endless litany of tasks that always seem to await him. He wakes up early, he runs the Maze, he comes back and helps everyone else pretend that they’re totally getting closer to finding a way out, even though they aren’t. Even though they may never find such a thing.

That’s why Newt’s so high on Minho’s list of priorities right now. Today differs from the others because it’s an important day for the Gladers, it’s Greenie Day. Some unlucky kid was sent up here while Minho was out mapping the Maze, some kid who’s probably already fighting back tears at the prospect of being stuck out here with the rest of them until the day that he dies. It’s not a pleasant life, Minho can attest to that. The Greenbean’s about to find that out for himself.

Still, the newbie will be a part of the Glade from this day forward, which means that Minho’s either going to befriend him, tolerate him, or just avoid him for as long as possible. Or her. There technically has been one girl sent up here, but Minho does his best to spend as little time thinking about her as possible, so he can’t be blamed for reverting back to the old belief that only boys could ever be sent up in the Box.

Newt leans against the door of the Map Room, waiting for Minho to finish tallying out all the turns he took this morning. Minho only has so long to remember the precise pattern of corridors before they flicker out of his head, and Newt knows it. If today’s Greenie caused serious problems, Newt would have mentioned it as Minho was walking out of the Doors. On a casual day like today, though, the blond second in command doesn’t mind waiting.

Newt straightens up once he sees that Minho is done. “All ready, then?”

Minho nods, heading out of the shade of the Map Room to rejoin the land of the living. “All ready. What are your takes on the Greenie?”

Newt shrugs. “Seems like all the others. A bit shaken up, certainly. You might want to check any new supplies that were sent up for you, the kid got a nosebleed and started spewing blood over a few boxes near him. We think we’ve gotten most of it off, though.”

Minho makes a face. “Start him on a course as a Slopper for that. If we have to clean up his blood, he has to clean up ours.”

Newt chuckles. “Can’t say that I haven’t thought about it. He doesn’t seem all that bad, though. Doesn’t remember his name, of course, but who does?”

“He is a boy, though?” Minho asks, careful to keep his tone unassuming.

Newt still sees through him, just like always. “Yeah, a boy. What, Y/N won you over so easily that you want another girl around?”

Minho makes a face. “Don’t remind me of her. I’m just curious. Feels weird that they would send up one girl and no others. Maybe I want someone else who’s pretty and doesn’t make me want to jump into the Box Hole and see what happens.”

Newt arches a brow. “You think Y/N’s pretty?”

“Pretty annoying,” Minho says through a deadpan stare.

Newt snorts. “Hilarious, Minho. Remind me, though, what exactly is your problem with Y/N? She’s friends with the rest of us. Personally, I think she’s just fine.”

Minho’s brow furrows, as it always seems to at the mention of Y/N. “I’m sure she’s fine with you, just not with me. We don’t talk that often ‘cause I’m always out in the Maze, and when we do, we only ever find problems with each other.”

“That’s just because you only talk to each other after a long day when you’re both starving,” Newt says, “you always pick the worst time to interact. I swear, if you found her on one of your days off and actually had a proper conversation, you’d enjoy each other’s company a lot more.”

“But why would I want to waste my rest day on my mortal enemy?” Minho asks, eyes opened wide in an expression of mock horror and derision.

Newt just grins. “I suppose you’d have to wait and find out. Honestly, I swear the two of you could actually be good friends.”

Minho presses his lips together. “Yeah, just like me and Gally. I’m sure we’ll be best buds sometime soon.”

Newt laughs and mercifully drops the subject. Neither of them want to complain for a while, anyway, they’ve got a stellar evening planned. The best part of a Greenie day isn’t the arrival of another stumbling, wide-eyed burden to bear, it’s the afterparty. Bonfire Nights are fantastic, they always are. Gally’ll get into a fight with somebody, then one of the Gladers will get so drunk that everyone can tell stories for months afterwards. What’s not to love?

The sun sets soon enough, and the rushing darkness brings a tide of Gladers all gradually headed towards the site of the bonfire. They don’t head there directly, but by chance, swinging in and out of the area until one looks up and finds themselves surrounded by friends. That is how it is in the Glade, Minho supposes, although everyone pretends to be tough as nails they’d follow whoever they needed if would mean they wouldn’t feel so alone.

That’s a dark enough thought, though, so Minho pushes it to the back of his head along with the rest of the restless worries that tend to creep over him once dusk falls. Tonight is for fun. He can stress later.

Minho catches up with the rest as everyone circles around a stack of logs dragged out by the Builders about an hour or so earlier. He arms himself with a branch about as long as his arm, lights it on fire, and launches it at the bonfire alongside Newt and Alby. He used to pretend to be a hero when he did this during the first few months of his arrival to the Glade, some warrior or fighter in an ancient war. Anything to disguise the face that he is still relentlessly here, even after everything he’s been through to try and leave it. He’s long since given up pretending.

Minho stumbles upon his friend group soon enough, arranged somewhat on the outskirts of the whole Bonfire Night gathering. They’ve got a good view of Gally’s fighting ring without being within the Keeper’s line of sight, which is perfect for those who wish to watch the matches without actually being dragged into them.

Minho has already helped himself to enough of Gally’s hospitality through his special drinks, so he thinks he’s good without a fight for tonight. There was one time a few months back when he’d been arguing with Gally for a while and Minho had actually bothered to go into the ring and solve a few problems with his fists. That had been a good night.

For now, though, Minho is content to sit back, drink too much, and listen to his friends’ tongues loosen as the hours pass by. The sun set long ago, and he can watch as the golden light of the bonfire slowly swallows all of them whole.

He’s briefly startled when a figure appears out of the gloom and slides into a seat next to him, tossing her head back to enjoy a sudden breeze. Minho narrows his eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

He didn’t mean for the question to come off that harshly, but he’s not about to apologize. Just as he said to Newt earlier this afternoon, Minho and Y/N have rarely said anything to each other that wasn’t bitter. They just don’t get along well, that’s all.

Y/N, however, just grins back at him, apparently unbothered by his attitude. “Sitting. I thought it was obvious.”

Minho’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, but why next to me?”

Y/N shrugs, taking a mouthful from an already severely depleted glass of Gally’s brew. “It was an open spot. You may not like me that much, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up a perfectly good place just because you’re pouting at me.”

Minho frowns, raising an accusatory finger in the air. “I am not pouting.”

Judging by the upward slash of Y/N’s smile, though, he may not be right about that.

“Of course not. And I’m not the best looking one here by far.”

Minho almost laughs but manages to keep it to himself just in time. Newt appears to have seen through him anyway, though, the blond boy looks altogether far too proud of himself. Minho glares at him, which just makes Newt’s smile broaden.

As the night wears on, Minho finds himself surprisingly alright with Y/N’s presence. He was preparing himself for all out war, an exchange of insults and vitriol just like every other time they’ve tried not to speak, but for some reason, tonight is different. It’s for the best, too; Minho wouldn’t want Bonfire Night ruined by his supposed enemy when he only gets this kind of celebration once a month.

About an hour or so into the whole affair, Minho is abruptly dragged out of watching the festivities play out when he feels something on his shoulder. He glances over to see Y/N leaning against him, her head tilted against the top of his bicep. Were it any other day, he would have all but shoved her off, but for some reason today he stays stock still so as to not encourage any movement.

Instead, he looks at her, really looks at her for what must be the first time in forever. She is pretty, he hadn’t been lying about that. Perhaps everyone who looks at her must fall in love, perhaps that is why Minho has spent all this time running from this inevitability just like he does all the others. Even the firelight is enamored with her, it traces lines of gold up and down her arms, collecting on the lines of her fingers as they reach for Minho’s.

He feels himself tense up as she takes his hand. Her touch is soft, feather-light, yet it still shakes him to the core. Minho watches as she turns over his hand, gently tracing his palm.

“You have nice hands,” she murmurs under her breath, and Minho has to remind himself that she’s only doing this because she’s drunk and he’s drunk and nothing has to matter at all.

Still, that doesn’t mean he has to pull away. Minho’s hands are tanned from spending all his hours out running in the sun, and hardened from calluses. For a moment, he’s almost embarrassed to have her looking at them. That being said, to leave now or otherwise push her aside seems impossible, so he stays quiet and only feels himself relax when she repeats her intoxicated whisper about how much she likes his hands.

Truth be told, Minho doesn’t know how long he would have stayed there were it not for the voices of his friends interrupting the whole thing. He feels as if a spell has been cast upon him, trapping him in place. He could have remained there the whole night, Y/N’s head still on his shoulder and her hands still wrapped around his.

Frypan’s voice, by contrast, is a rude awakening. “So, what’s all this about? I thought you hated each other.”

Minho jerks his gaze up with a start. “We’re– we don’t–”

Newt cuts him off with a broad grin. “See, what have I been telling you? They’re perfect for each other. It’s adorable.”

Minho glares. “Oh, shut up. If you weren’t drunk as a skunk I’d meet you in Gally’s ring for saying that.”

Frypan snorts. “Deflecting, are we? Just face it, Minho, you can’t pretend you hate her forever.”

Minho rolls his eyes with as much incredulity as he can muster, but that doesn’t mean he moves a millimeter. The boys’ teasing comments fade into the background when he looks over at Y/N, and vanish fully into silence when she meets his gaze and smiles at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a smile he likes so much as that one.

When the night ends, for unfortunately even a night as golden as this one must surely end, Minho finds himself reluctant to stand up. He’s certain that Y/N is asleep by now, and he doesn’t want to wake her up. She just looks so quiet there, so peaceful. Peace is rare around here, so why should Minho be the one to rob her of that bliss?

Carefully, he stands and gathers her up into his arms. He starts the walk back to the hammocks, weaving around people and trees as if he were in a dream. At one point, Newt appears out of the gloom, grinning at Minho as he half disappears in the dark of night.

“What did I tell you? A regular Prince Charming, you are.” Newt says.

Minho makes a face, but when he blinks Newt is gone again, vanishing back into the darkened land and sky. Minho manages to make it to the hammocks and gently lays Y/N down, smoothing a roughspun blanket around her so she doesn’t feel the chill of the wind currently pushing them together.

He spends one last moment there, feeling his drinks weigh him down with all the weight of the world. One of her hands is turned up, as if reaching for him even now. He lets his fingers brush it once before he, too, evaporates into the darkness.

It’s bright outside. Minho doesn’t know how that happened, how he managed to get from Y/N’s hammock to his or even when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knows, it’s morning again. He drags a tired hand over his face. Man, he forgot how his head always pounds the morning after Bonfire Night. He feels like an army of enraged Builders has gone to war against his skull.

Minho pulls himself up. Thankfully, today is his off day, so he won’t have to get up at dawn and try to run after all of this. Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his friends, who are all beaming at him with the kind of triumph that tells Minho he’s about to be teased relentlessly.

Frypan chuckles as he laces up his shoes. “If it isn’t our favorite romantic. You know, I didn’t know you had that much game.”

Minho blinks for a second, confused, and then remembers everything that had happened the night before. The drinks, the fire, Y/N with her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Things happen.” He manages.

Newt’s eyes widen. “You’re not going to try and push it off again? You can finally admit that you’re head over bloody heels for the girl?”

“Hey, I never said anything of the sort. I’m just saying that things happened, alright?” Minho says hastily.

Frypan grins. “We’re sure. Go wake up your Sleeping Beauty, I’m sure she’d like to see you.”

Minho waves a hand at them as they dissolve into laughter. Maybe he will go talk to Y/N anyway. He certainly has a few things that have just come to mind, things about feelings that he didn’t know existed until last night.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @hiya-its-amber, @thatfangirl42, @gods-fools-heroes

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thebigoblin · 1 year

Text

drive highways and byways to be there with you

A Post-Movie, Fix-It Fic, even though I haven't watched the movie and gleaned spoilers like a pride-hungry Achilles.

will post this on ao3 later, when i'm not in the classroom (it's a free period). for now:

Tags: Post-Movie Fix-It, Alpha Derek Hale, Established Relationship, Mild Sexual Content, Married Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Eli Calls Stiles 'Tata', Spark Stiles Stilinski

also, yes, the title comes from Niall's "This Town." Current fave.

"Do you think they'll believe this?"

"They will. They have to."

Stiles doesn't look sure, so Derek takes his hands in his — wincing at the movement because of the bullet wound that still hasn't healed; the Nogitsune's magic is gone from the wound and Derek himself, as it is from Allison, but some effects remain, because they're a part of them. Of their hurts and scars.

Nobody knows this better than Stiles, who still wakes up during the night to fight off a shadow that isn't there, and nobody knows it better than Derek himself, who calms Stiles down after, through calls and gentle voice most days and with firm hands when they're lucky enough to be together.

So, of course, Stiles notices the movement and his eyes shutters.

"No. Don't do that again. This wasn't your fault, okay?"

They're sitting face to face on the bed at a hotel in a random ass town, far away from Beacon Hills, far away from everything that could ruin them. And yet Stiles is broken at the meagre survival of what Derek has brought from that town.

Somedays, Derek wonders how he could have stayed there all these years. And then he remembers the way Stiles lights up when he talks to his dad, alive and doing well, all thanks to Derek keeping a close eye on him.

There's more than one reason he took up that consulting job at the Sheriff's Station.

"Stiles. It wasn't your fault. It was Scott's idea to give the jar to Liam and his new pack member, even after you told him no. You did what you could, and you know I did too. Do you blame me for it?"

Stiles cups his face, and Derek lets him. "No, never!"

Derek takes Stiles' hands in his again, kisses the tightly-gripped knuckles. "I love you," he tells his husband sincerely, "But sometimes you're an idiot. None of this was your fault, alright?"

Stiles smiles a little at that. Derek counts it as a win.

Stiles' voice, when he speaks, is soft and desperate. "They'll believe it?"

Derek isn't the biggest believer in the world, in anything, but he has trust in one person: Stiles Stilinski-Hale.

"It was your idea to fake my death. I don't know how exactly you did it, or roped Parrish into it, or even how much magic you used to make everyone see what you wanted to — but you did it. So, yes, my love, I know that they'll believe it."

Stiles laughs, watery and lovely, and Derek pulls him in his arms, kisses him and keeps kissing him until Stiles is pulling away, giggling and breathing out a, "Keep your hands away, Hale! It tickles!"

Derek just grins and leaps to tickle him more, and Stiles stays, because he knows the pain Derek is in and Stiles has never abandoned him anyways.

He won't start now.

Convincing Eli of the plan was the hardest part, given the fact that he had to see his dad burning even though that actually didn't happen, but now that Derek sees his pup and his husband cuddle up on the couch together like this, Eli's head on Stiles' lap and Stiles' eyes gazing down lovingly at their sleeping child, Derek decides this was worth it.

Lying to John, the pack, and staying away from Stiles was worth it, just for this moment, and the countless others they'll have moving forward.

A thought occurs to him, and he snorts. Stiles looks up at him, eyebrow raised, and he can't help but whisper:

"They really thought I'd let Scott and Allison raise my pup?" Having Eli wear Scott's jersey was more than enough. Eli hated it, he wanted to wear his Tata's jersey, but he's always been smart and he knew from young that his fathers have a secret that needs to be kept.

Eli really is Stiles' kid.

"They're idiots. They believed that I was too busy to come to my dad's rescue, so. And not to mention that they think I just abandoned Roscoe! Like, seriously, guys? And then they claim to be my best friends."

Stiles' increasing volume has Eli waking up, so Derek takes the place next to Stiles, Eli's legs on his own lap even as their pup's eyes flutter shut again to Stiles' polish lullaby.

"Hell, Lydia knew Eli knows Polish. I thought she'd figure us out soon, and nearly two decades later, she still hasn't."

"Yeah." Stiles gnaws on his lip, turns to look at him. "Let's not talk about them, okay? This is just us. Just us like it was always supposed to be, my heart."

Stiles leans in to kiss him, and he does too.

Eli wakes up in the middle of it, his fathers touching their foreheads and kissing each other in turns, and promptly decides to head out after flailing to be let out of their embrace.

"I'm taking the jeep!"

"You better be careful, then!" Stiles shouts, and Eli responds with a salute and disgusted face.

Derek laughs and laughs, and feels the most alive he's felt in a long, long time. Ironic, considering he's had to fake his death to achieve this.

Stiles pokes him in the stomach then, goads him with his eyes.

"Since we are alone now... and considering the last time I saw you was on that fake Mechanic Convention you made up exactly seven months ago..."

Derek's eyes are red and he's picked up Stiles before the sentence can be completed.

"GROSS! EW, EW, EW!"

"Get out of the hearing distance, kiddo," Derek whispers, and then there are no more words spoken. It's only him and Stiles, and one very recognizable screech from the jeep.

Eli better not be home soon.

Especially because...

"Oh, fuck, fuck. I love your alpha eyes, my Alpha. Can't believe they even missed this, the aura of power you give off — well, except Peter because he's —"

"Can we not talk about my uncle while I'm trying to fit my cock in you?"

"Right, right, right. I just- they're idiots. The real alpha was among them, and they still- whatever. I'm glad. You're mine, alright, only mine."

...he gets to watch Stiles come undone before him, like this, mouth open, eyes shut, face slack in pure bliss. He gets to hear Stiles call him his, he gets to claim Stiles as his own, watch his body as he loves and bites and worships Stiles' body, Stiles' existence.

He gets to be with Stiles.

The past fifteen years were rough and unbelieving, but he knows in the heart of his hearts that it was the last sacrifice he had to make.

In return, he gets this: Stiles in his arms, Eli's I'm watching a movie, be back as soon as it's clear, and John's you better be with Stiles right now, and Eli best be with you, Hale.

Well. Perhaps John wasn't fooled — he knew. But that's to be expected.

Stilinski’s are smart.

And he gets to have and love three generations of them.

He's lucky. He's extremely lucky.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf movie #teen wolf movie spoilers #*sterek fic recs #tw fix-it #i make my own canon #because the actual canon is stupid as fuck

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

Note

55 taehyung

When I wake up you're not next to me / Guess I'm missing all your energy / That's all I want / Promise I am not your enemy / I just need another memory / That's all I want / 'Cause all I want is you

» pairing: taehyung x reader

» wc/date: 1k | December 2022

» warnings: alcohol | taehyung is Gentle and Soft and Everything Good in the World

» masterlist | AO3 | send me ur thots 👅

» notes: this made me so delulu you have no idea 😫 also this was my first time writing in present tense and ngl i kinda like it 👀

“You’re still the love of my life.”

Candlelight casts dancing shadows across Taehyung’s face. They highlight the sharpness of his jawline and reflect orange sparkles in his dark eyes. You want to believe the sudden cool breeze cutting through an otherwise warm summer night makes you shiver, but you know that would be a lie. No, Taehyung is to blame for your jitters. He always is. It’s the look he gives you as he lifts his wine glass to his mouth, his tongue briefly slipping out to wet his lips before taking in the red liquid.

How many glasses were you on?

You press your fingers to your cheeks, knowing your skin isn’t hot because of the wine.

You were wine drunk the first time you met Taehyung. You tell everyone you don’t remember that night, but it’s only to save yourself from the embarrassment. You were at a house party hosted by someone you genuinely don’t remember anymore. Although most of the night was a drunken blur, you do remember Taehyung’s warm hands squeezing your own. You remember how gentle he was, how his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin to soothe you while you blabbered through hot tears about your friend leaving you alone at the party. His willingness to find a quiet corner to talk down a stranger from a drunken panic attack was everything anyone needed to know about Taehyung, in your opinion. Calm, patient, and unafraid of looking someone in the eyes during their worst moment and showing them kindness without any judgment or ridicule.

You couldn’t have imagined that a year later you would move in with the gentle boy from the party. You couldn’t have imagined that you’d get to hold those warm hands all day, every day, whenever you wanted.

You also couldn’t have imagined that two years later you’d be moving out.

The gentle boy from the party never changed. Sure, he grew up. He finished graduate school, got a “big kid job” as he put it, adopted a dog, and bought a condo. He matured, but he didn’t change, not really. He was still the same gentle boy.

You were the one who changed.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.” Taehyung gives you a sad smile when silence falls between the two of you long enough for him to come to his own conclusions. “I suppose that was unfair of me to tell you.”

And there he goes, being considerate when you’re the one who has been so, so unfair.

“Why,” you blurt out.

Taehyung looks as though he’s going to speak, but your waiter suddenly appears at your table to inquire about the food that’s gone mostly uneaten on your plates and the bottle of wine that’s halfway gone.

It’s so easy to get lost in Taehyung’s presence, to forget that there’s a world beyond him. You remind yourself that you’re at an expensive restaurant, on the outdoor patio. All around you are couples sharing a late dinner beneath the stars. It’s Valentine’s Day. The waiter is gone now.

“Why?” Your eyes refocus on Taehyung who now has his fingers threaded together beneath his chin. Despite his sad smile, there’s a quirk to his eyebrows that makes your stomach do something you wish it wouldn’t.

“I treated you horribly. I put all my energy into writing that stupid fucking book. Writing imaginary worlds instead of paying attention to the one I was in. The one you were part of.” Your voice is small, but Taehyung’s has always been soft enough to never overpower yours.

He sucks on his teeth and lets his hands fall into his lap. With a cocked head, he watches you for a few too many heartbeats for your liking.

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.” He takes another sip of his wine. Waits.

“Are you quoting Maya Angelou at me right now?” Your question is meant to carry an accusatory tone, but it’s nothing more than light teasing, and perhaps a bit of confusion.

And then there’s the boxy grin you once had the privilege of waking up to every morning. Now you had one of those alarm clock lamps that mimic the sun rising. It’s nowhere near as bright as Taehyung’s smile.

“Perhaps.” He puts his hands up when he knows you’re about to press him further. “But it’s a good quote!”

He always knew how to speak your language, even when you hadn’t tried to learn how to speak his.

“It’s an excuse for shitty behavior,” you point out.

“It’s a promise for a better future.”

You stop yourself from running your mouth and force yourself to sit with his words. Taehyung, forever the optimist. Where you saw failures, he saw opportunities for growth.

“Neither of us knew what we were doing,” Taehyung continues softly. He reaches over to take your hand in his. It’s been a year and he’s still soft, still warm, still calming. “But now we know better.”

You want to tell him he’s wrong; you were the only fuck-up in this equation. But you don’t because Taehyung never lets you get away with speaking poorly of yourself, even after a year apart.

“I want to try… to do better. But I don’t want to hurt you if it’s not good enough.”

Taehyung lets out an airy laugh, his intense gaze finally falling from your eyes to instead gaze at your fingers interlocked with his. “I’m not so fragile, Y/N.” And just as quickly, his dark eyes are on you once again. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look him in the eyes without feeling like your heart is in your throat. “And even if I was, I’d still rather be hurt by you over and over for the rest of my life than settle for loving someone I can never give myself fully to.”

“I wouldn’t let it happen over and over again,” you whisper, willing the prickly feeling at the corner of your eyes to disappear.

“Mhmm,” Taehyung hums with a squeeze of your hand. “And that’s how I know we’ll be okay.”

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

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fatuismooches · 11 months

Note

SMOOOCHES!!! Hello my adorable n most favorite writer!!! ꒰♡˃̶̤́ ꒳ ˂̶̤̀ ꒱

I hope you’ve been doing absolutely amazing! I give you another brainrot of mine tonight! I hope you enjoy!!You had mentioned in one of your recent replies to one of my smol Dottore brainrots that Fragile!Reader and Zandy would have matching ruin guard plushies. And it got me thinking on “what would happen if you ended up losing the plushie?” So here it is!

Fragile!Reader most likely always has the plushie in their grasp (like when eating, taking small walks, anything!) since it brings a lot of comfort to them. It was after all a gift from Zandik, and you always held his gifts to a high regard. And this plushie was no exception. Since it helped you cope with any of your stress, anxiety, etc. it was usually the first thing you’d grab whenever you were feeling such negative emotions. And if the plushie was alive, it would definitely comment on how you would cry most nights due to you feeling upset about your condition on some nights. So to say that this plushie is very meaningful to you is an understatement. (It even has yours and Zandik’s initials sewn into it on one of its tiny legs.) But, one night when you’re about to head to bed, you realize your favorite plush is missing. So, you look all throughout your bedroom, but unfortunately you can’t find it. And eventually, a few clones see you looking for it, and do their best to help you find the plushie. Even trying to retrace your steps, yet to no success. But, as the night wears on, your body starts to get tired (being that you’re not really used to staying late since your condition doesn’t let you stay up on most days, and your body requires lots of sleep.) and although you do try to endure, it ends up failing when as soon as a clone picks you up, your head resting on their shoulder, you quickly fall asleep. Eventually sent to your bedroom and tucked in (as well as hooked up to the many machines to monitor your vitals ໒꒰ྀི ◞ ◟꒱ྀིა ) the clones still continue their search for your dear plushie. Yet there’s no success that night, especially since they all still have work to complete. So even though you’re a priority to them, they also don’t want a scolding from Zandik..

So you end up waking up to no good news that morning. Yet that doesn’t stop you from continuing to search the lab. You could ask Zandik yes, but you also don’t want to disturb his experiments for a petty thing like your plushie. So you continue your search alone. And it remains that way for a few days, and you’re left quite anxious during these days without it. Since it is your comfort item, and how will you explain to Zandik you lost it? Sure he could probably make a new one, but it wouldn’t be the same as the original. Just like his clones, you love and hold all of them dearly close to your heart, but deep down you’ll always save a spot in your heart specifically for Zandik. However, your plushie is eventually found. (It had been left in the library behind a bookshelf) and you go back to your normal happy bubbly self. Overjoyed to have your plushie back. Although, you couldn’t really remember when you had left it there since you don’t remember ever walking into the library…But either way, you found it and that’s all that matters, right?

(Just trying to slip in the concept of Fragile!Readers memory slowly deteriorating every few years or so. Although it’s really subtle, and you just blame it on having bad memory as a kid.) But I hope you enjoy this brainrot of mine!! I’m sorry if it got a little long and slightly angsty I couldn’t come up with a fluffy ending besides you and little Zandy being able to play with your plushies again. (But I think during the time that your plushie is missing, Zandy would try and offer his like the good boy he is ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ) but I hope you’re having a lovely day/night! May you get a lot of chu chi’s n kissies n hugs n everything nice in the world bc u deserve it so so much! i give u a million chu chus !!

-from your dear boo boo 🎐 anon! ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

SQUEEE AHH ANOTHER DELICIOUS BRAINROT FROM MY LOVE <333 !!! BROOO THIS WAS SO CUTE I WAS SMILING THE WHOLE TIME 😭🫶

To say you adored your plushie was a severe understatement. It was a gift from your beloved, so of course you’d hold it in high regard! Not to mention how much comfort it brought you whenever you weren’t feeling the best. It was like a reminder that Zandik was always by your side, even when he couldn’t physically be there. It was something you could reveal your deepest darkest emotions and secrets too and not be judged. You loved it so much, and you didn’t care if that seemed childish or something. Often you’d trace your and Zandik’s initials and giggle at the thought of him.

So when one night you couldn’t find your plushie to cuddle with, you were on the verge of going crazy. At first you thought, maybe it fell under the bed or you dropped it somewhere strange, but nope, you tore apart your whole room, and nothing. And the clones kind of have a strange detector instinct for whenever you’re distressed (or maybe they just heard the noises from your room) and of course they assist you in your quest to find your plushie. But to no avail, which disheartens you. But you’re determined to find it until… zzz, your body is getting all the more tired from all of this walking. You silently cursed it for being so weak all the time, but there was nothing you could do. You probably would have fallen asleep on the floor were it not for the clone that carried you back. You muttered an apology and held onto him and you think his body heated up a bit.

You didn’t want Zandik to know that you lost it. First, it was kind of embarrassing to be this distraught over a plushie and you didn’t want him to think you were overreacting childishly or something. Second, you didn’t want him to possible feel bad you lost his gift, because you didn’t really mean to! You swear, you have no recollection of even leaving it somewhere. So strange… but you just mope around for a few days without your plushie to cuddle and talk to :( But when your plushie is found you’re overjoyed!! (The clones are relieved that you’re back to normal now because all of them were greatly concerned and sneaking looks at you) Maybe you should ask Zandik to put some kind of locator on it. Just in case this happens again. Speaking of him, maybe you should go visit him. He might get a bit huffy and tell you to go and rest but he’ll never say no to you <3

I’m heavily enjoying your angst, the tears are coming but its the good kind 🫡 It’s so *chefs kiss* amazing! I love the goodest of boys Zandy. He does not let anyone touch his stuff, except you of course <3 He excitedly shows you the stuff he collected from other nations and tells you the story of how he got it (may or may not be brutal.)

As someone who sleeps with plushies I loved this sm. I dont think I could fall asleep without them 😅 and I’d be so upset if I couldn’t have them anymore lol. I love holding soft things especially in bed, really puts me into relaxing mode 💖 (I also really want a high quality dottore plush lol) and OMG IT WAS GOING SO HAPPY UNTIL THE MEMORY DETERIORATING- 😭😭 Omg I remember a long time ago I wrote a little thing about fragile reader’s memory, that one day you forgot about them completely. So now im just thinking about them forgetting Zandik and the clones completely and them being in absolute shambles because not even the genius doctor predicated that, and now he has no idea what to do. On top of searching for a cure now the love of his life doesn’t even remember him. 🫠

GIVING YOU A MILLION CHU CHUS AS WELL!! MWAH MWAH SMOOCH ILY🎐ANON!!

#smooches talks #🎐 anon #fragile reader <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #i love the little emoticon things u use theyre so cute ily

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