#except i understand that those are probably all that keeps me from making the same mistakes again
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7.4 Bucky*
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (hand stuff(f receiving))
Word Count: 1.3k
Previously On...: You got it on. In the woods.
A/N: Ugh, my beautiful long weekend is over. No more days off from work until Junteenth.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
“I’m gonna end up falling in love with you,” she had said to him, and Bucky could barely believe his ears. He made love to her again, under the stars, assuring her with every thrust, every kiss, every caress, that he felt the same.
After he’d taken her apart once more, he’d grabbed his discarded shirt and dipped it into the stream. Wringing out the excess water, he brought the wet cloth back and used it to gently clean her folds. He’d made such a mess of her, but the sight of his seed oozing from her core was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to keep himself from bending down and using his fingers to push it all back inside of her, where it belonged, where he wanted it to always belong, from now on.
But there would be time for that, later.
For now, he helped her dress, and using the combined lights of the flashlights on their phones, they managed to collect the rest of the picnic gear and made their way out of the clearing, hand in hand, and back to the parking lot, Major leaning against his arm and occasionally letting out a contented sigh that filled Bucky’s heart.
When they reached their cars, Bucky was surprised to see Major had arrived in a pickup truck. “Not sure what kind of car I was expecting for you, sugar,” he said with a laugh, “but a pickup wasn’t it.”
With a smile, Major lovingly patted the truck’s hood. “Yeah, wasn’t my first choice, honestly, but when I started my business, I needed something that could transport shit to The WarZone from our suppliers. It’s grown on me, though. Speaking of,” she added, her face falling a little, “I should probably head home; it’s already nine o’clock, and I have to work tomorrow.”
Bucky felt his heart sink. The last thing he wanted to do was say goodnight to her. “Spend the night at the Compound with me,” he offered again, bringing his hands to her waist. “It’s closer than your place, and I don’t want to say goodbye to you just yet.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and offered his most pleading puppy dog look. “I can bring you back to your truck in the morning.”
Major sighed in feigned reluctance. “I suppose I could be a little late tomorrow,” she admitted. “I think my boss will understand. I happen to know for a fact that she’s quite fond of your dick, so she might make an exception if I tell her I was out late riding it all night.”
Bucky laughed and pulled her to his chest. God, he loved the feeling of her as she wrapped her arms around him, the way she seemed to fit perfectly into the dips and curves of his body.
“To hell with it,” he heard her mumble into his chest. “I’m gonna take the day off tomorrow.”
Bucky pulled back and looked down at her, trying hard to stifle the grin that was threatening to spread across his face. “Are you sure, sugar?” he asked her. “I don’t want you putting your business in any kind of jeopardy because I’m trying to be a bad influence.”
Major shook her head and smiled at him. “Honestly, things over there run so smoothly now, I don’t need to be as involved as I am. I just like keeping an eye on things because, well, the business is my baby, you know?” Bucky nodded, he did understand; she’d devoted so much of her life to making it a success. “So, I can afford to take a day off here and there to spend time with you,” she said.
Bucky grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Since you’re playing hooky and don’t need to worry about being home early,” he said, “how ‘bout we finally eat dinner? You’ve got to be starving.”
Major let out a low groan. “God, yes, please. Don’t get me wrong, I fully enjoyed our alternative activities, but damn, boy– you had me working up an appetite.”
“Gimme one minute,” Bucky said. He hauled the picnic basket into the back of Major’s truck and spread the blankets along the bed. He grasped Major by the hips and gently lifted her over the tailgate before hopping in, himself. He propped up some pillows against the back of the cab, and sat down against them, spreading his legs and motioning for Major to sit between them, with her back to his bare chest. He then rummaged through the basket and retrieved their forgotten sub sandwiches and lemonades.
While they ate, Bucky pointed out constellations to Major, telling her the stories behind the figures in the night sky. He loved how much more could be seen out here than back in the city. He’d always loved space, and Major listened to him with rapt attention, asking thoughtful and poignant questions, letting him know that she was both paying close attention to everything he said, and that she admired his interest.
“You’d make an excellent astronomer,” Major commented, after Bucky had pointed out the tiny dot that was Neptune, far off in the unfathomable distance.
“When I was a kid, that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up,” he confessed with a nostalgic smile. He’d never told anyone that before– not even Stevie. When you were a kid from Brooklyn, growing up during what would become known as The Great Depression, the idea of making a career out of looking at stars seemed so fanciful as to be almost insulting. Bucky had known there was no future in the cosmos for him, only a life of hard, manual labor, doing what he needed to do to put food on the table for his family.
Only, that never even came to fruition, either. One measly letter from Uncle Sam had ripped away all his dreams, and his reality.
“Well, it’s never too late for a career change,” Major said, her tone only half teasing. “I mean, you’re only in your early hundreds. You’ve got time.”
And now, here was Major, simultaneously both reality and dream, and when she said he could be an astronomer, she had Bucky believing it.
Once their food was finished, though, Bucky couldn’t resist sliding a hand down the waistband of Major’s jean shorts, seeking out the warmth and wetness of her folds.
“Bucky!” Major sucked in a breath as she arched her back into his chest. “Fuck!” He slid two of his flesh fingers inside of her, working them in and out at a leisurely pace with one hand, while his vibranium hand pointed out the stars of one of the smallest constellations, Delphinius.
“That’s the Dolphin,” Bucky told her as she grasped onto his forearm to support herself. “The stars aren’t very bright, but the myth is that Poseidon– doll, how can you pay attention if you keep squirming like that?” He knew she couldn’t see him, so he had no need to hide the mischievous smirk that covered his face.
“Bucky,” Major whined, and god, how Bucky loved the sound of it. He brought his lips to the crux of her neck and shoulder.
“I’m trying to teach you about the stars, doll, and your mind’s completely elsewhere,” he teased. He brought his vibranium arm down to join his flesh hand, and used it to work her clit, until Major was a crying, shaking mess in his arms.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl,” he assured her as she came down from her high. He made sure to hold her close to him, loving how her whole body shook with the aftershocks of her pleasure. Pleasure that he had coaxed from her.
“You are a bad boy, Bucky Barnes,” Major said with a laugh once she’d found her voice again. “And you definitely do not play fair.”
“If you think I’m bad now,” he offered with a grin as he kissed the top of her head, “just wait until you see how bad I’m going to be when I get you back to the Compound.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Gus’s dad may have killed an old guy
Gotta gif right outta the bat! Liams run here! So cute!
I tell you what, i love the Shassie friendship here because yes, Shawn is going to mess with him by getting him something he hates for christmas, but then he’s also going to casually convince Jules to invite him to her family dinner because he knows he’s lonely.
Ohmygod i missed this part somehow! Gus forcing a vision see it! see it!
So a few things about the Gusters and how that plays into Gus’s character.
If they thought Shawn was a bad influence, then why let him hang out at his place all the time? Obviously they couldn’t just refuse to let him see him anymore but why not have him over at your place so you can keep an eye on him? Plus, Henry’s a cop… its complicated is all I’ll say. I think it had more to do with the fact that Shawn was just too much to handle as a kid. He strikes me as the type that needed to be constantly stimulated (i might go into more detail about young shawn in a later ep. Possibly when i try to narrow down their origin story). And Gus apparently agreed with his parents, so i have to believe part of him blames Shawn for how his life turned out, which is a little unfair.
I love the juxtaposition of how they treat Gus compared to how henry treats Shawn. Gus was heavily sheltered and coddled, whereas Shawn was being hardened for reality. Both are overprotective to a degree, except you’ve got Gus’s parents putting up foam guards on all the corners of their furniture until he’s 18, and then you have Henry who probably taught shawn how to swim by throwing him into the deep end of a pool when he was three. Weirdly, i think of the two, Henrys way was a little better, because even though he was a pretty shit dad, he, for the most part, didn’t try to shield Shawn from the world. In fact he was taught to observe it, to understand it.
This ep made me wonder if Gus was born sick. It would explain why they act like he has a “Delicate health and weak disposition”, why he didn’t have that many friends growing up, why they didn’t want him to go to that school. His parents are so overprotective and stuck in the mentality that he is a feeble child, that i think thats what made Gus so terrified of everything, but on the flip side, sparked his need to know how things worked, and why he has such a wide variety of interests. Shawn also does this, though. He never told Gus Henry killed his dog (henrys a canonical dog killer lol and i think he accidentally killed one of shawns pets too in a later ep. How many pets have to die before its no longer considered accidental???) and just in general he’s looking out for him whether emotionally (agreeing with him that he is definitely happy with his life at the end of 9 lives) or physically (standing between him and a gun in the same ep)
But they should be concerned that Shawns Psych business put Gus’s life in danger on multiple occasions already but that wasn’t discussed. So I have to assume Gus hasn’t told them those bits yet because he knows they’d freak out and make him stop.
Ernie freaking Hudson and Phylicia freaking Rashad! Which is even funnier when you remember Gus/Dulé keep getting referred to as Bud
I love that they’re a family of super sniffers and it bonds them. shawn seems to really get a kick out of seeing it too (probably because a family enjoying each other is so foreign to him 🙃)
U-turn Singleton everybody! I love when Gus has a little thing to go with his nickname!
Gus was really about to kick lassies ass! Dulé is killing me in this ep!
Gus being very subtle as always
P.S I LOVE HIM SO MUCH (but he definitely cheated)
#first title change ep!#remember when i said i didn’t want these to get too long?#welp. here we are#dont think i didn’t catch that psycho reference 😏#do you think yin knew it freaked him out??#psych tv#psych usa#psych#psych rewatch#shawn spencer#burton guster#james roday rodriguez#james roday#dulé hill#dule hill#corbin bernsen#timothy omundson#maggie lawson#henry spencer#carlton lassiter#juliet o'hara#i dont understand why some paragraphs on this are wide and sometimes theyre smushed???#im having formatting issues
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I think there is something to he said about Dabi building a life for himself before meeting up with Shigaraki again in Intox.
He makes sure that he isn't dependant on the other, he makes sure that people would come looking for him if he went missing, he makes sure that people have his back. He makes sure that the power imbalance is as small as possible.
He spends an entire year making sure he has his own life, making sure Shigaraki won't get impatient and come after him.
I really like how you write these dynamics, especially when the universe is closer to canon. (The same goes for your abo fics, which is probably why Haven is one of my fav fics).
Since we read from Dabi's perspective, all the mistrust he holds against the world seems natural, for him at least. He grew up in a world where almost everybody could be a threat to him, either killing him or worse.
And as much as Shigaraki grew up in a world where many people would love to kill him too, he doesn't quite understand what Dabi is going through. It isn't second nature to think of the same threats that Dabi had to think of in these universes. And it shows in their interactions.
Shigaraki is being polite, he is giving Dabi an option for an out, he is trying to make sure Dabi feels safe. And I love how affected he is when he realizes just how paranoid Dabi is, how paranoid he needs to be to survive. He will always keep in mind that Dabi thinks him capable of the worst.
They're both fucked up by how their world works in such different ways but I love that for them. I love even more that they make it work, no matter what. Shigaraki will support Dabi, but he will also give him space. He will make sure Dabi knows he isn't trying to bind him to himself. Dabi will give Shigaraki his trust. Both of them give the other loyalty and love.
Barely anyone else would dare talk to Shigaraki the way Dabi does. Nobody else looks at Dabi like Shigaraki does. They make for quite the pair.
(also, on a completely different note: I love Compress here. "Oh noooo, looks like I can't keep as close of an eye. *Wink wink*". I love this man. He knows Shigaraki isn't happy having to meet those three and would always be happy to see Dabi, so he'll take oit two birds with one stone, lol. And Magne and Twice as bouncers are nice, too)
Okay, be honest with me, did you steal any of my internal organs while you were rooting around in my chest? Because god damn did this comment throw me on an operating table and open me up from chest to pelvis!
I don't even know what to say except you GOT IT anon, you took everything I had, and you read it for absolute filth. The way they've experienced the world, how that impacted their first meeting, how they grew from that point and why it was important to the rest of the story, you really grabbed the themes I was working with and strangled them lovingly
And Compress is the MVP of this story (though he's fighting viciously for it with Spinner)
Thank you so much for commenting!!!
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if you've ever held someone dying in your arms, if it's ever been your fault, and if those thoughts have ever come in the night to haunt you, you know what it is to want to die
#tw trauma#tw death#tw animal death#thinking about the nestling again#among others#it's killing me#sometimes i feel like it really will kill me#i want to turn off the thoughts so badly#i want to get rid of the memories#except i understand that those are probably all that keeps me from making the same mistakes again
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I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.
I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?
Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.
There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).
Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.
It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?
Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.
But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.
It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.
And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.
I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.
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Chapter 4: Bon Appétit
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out”
Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham
Word count: 4,6k+
Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT
A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)
This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist
Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist
PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.
“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.
“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain.
“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.
It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.
“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”
Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”
You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.
“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.
For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.
Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.
“I have to keep seeing him.”
You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.
You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.
You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair.
Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.
He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.
“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.
“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.”
Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.
“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”
You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.
You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.
“Change your fucking tone, Will.”
You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.
“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.
Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.
“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.
Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.
“I’m proposing.”
The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.
“What the fuck, Will?”
Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.
“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”
You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?
“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”
“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”
He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”
Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.
“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?”
“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”
A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.
“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid.
Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.
You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.
“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple.
A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.
“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.
“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”
And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love.
Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit.
“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”
The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.
“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.
Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.
Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.
“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.
You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.
Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.
The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed.
You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.
“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.
Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room.
You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely.
There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head.
“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them.
You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.
“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within.
The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer.
“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.
It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls.
Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.
It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.
Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.
You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.
Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.
You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.
“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.
“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”
You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.
“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.
Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.
“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder.
You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.
Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.
“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes.
“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”
Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.
“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”
“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.
Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist.
“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.”
Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in. “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.
After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.
“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.
Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair.
“I know.”
His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.
You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”
Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.
“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”
“Why does she want you to stay away?”
“Because I tried to kill him.”
You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.
“How?”
Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”
You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”
A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”
Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.
“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.
“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.
The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.
“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.
You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.
“If you…”
“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.
“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”
Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before. His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.
“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.”
Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.
“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”
Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting.
When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.
“I love you, Will.”
#eat your heart out#smut#mdni#hannibal lecter x reader#hannibal nbc#hannibal lecter x reader x will graham#hannibal lecter x will graham#hannibal lecter#hannibal#hannigram#will graham x reader#will graham x hannibal lecter#will graham
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Jilted (not) Lover [Mitsuya Takashi x Reader]
Pairing: Mitsuya Takashi x GN!Reader
Summary: Takashi is your best friend (who you have some more than friendly feelings for); so you don't understand why he never seems to want to spend time with you anymore.
Warnings: mild misunderstandings, kissing, no gendered terms for reader; reader is a bit insecure, and Takashi is a little less emotionally mature than normal.
Word Count: ~2,100
Notes: wasn't feeling good so I finally sat down and wrote an idea I've had for a while. Probably needs more editing but I want to let it finally fly free
[Ao3 Link]
You thought nothing of barging into your best friend’s room; after all, he gave you a spare key for a reason. “Takashi!” you called excitedly. “They let me off work early today! Do you wanna maybe go out and do something? I heard there was a new—”
You were cut off before you could even finish. “I’m sorry,” Takashi said, not even bothering to raise his eyes from the patterns in front of him. “I really need to finish this today.”
“Oh,” you said, deflating slightly. “Well, I could just hang around here if you want some company. I can help too!”
Still, you received barely any acknowledgement. “I’ve got it, I just need to focus. I’ll see you later, though.”
Your smile felt brittle. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll go see Yuzuha then. Don’t forget to show me your new design when you’re done.”
The door clicked shut softly behind you.
Later, you heard from Yuzuha that Takashi went out to the arcade with Hakkai that same day. You were hurt, but you wanted to think the best. Takashi probably just finished early and assumed you were busy. It was nothing.
Except it wasn’t.
-
Ever since the two of you met in middle school, you had never gone more than a few days without hanging out. Throughout high school you basically lived at his house, becoming almost like another sibling to his sisters. Even once you both graduated and got different jobs, the two of you spent most of your free time together. (Enough time together for you to develop a horrible infatuation with him, at the very least.)
And yet, for two weeks straight Takashi had been completely blowing you off.
He was always busy with last minute designs, or he had to take his sisters to something, or he already had plans with Draken or Hakkai or the old Toman members. Normally, he would ask you to tag along, but he barely talked to you other than to let you know he couldn’t see you or spend time with you.
You never said anything, keeping a nonchalant tone around him. But god, did it hurt. You didn’t know what you did wrong to deserve this treatment; you couldn’t remember anything. Maybe he had just finally gotten tired of you and was trying to let you down easy.
You did your best to ignore those thoughts. It’s Takashi, you thought. If there was something wrong, he would communicate with you. It was probably nothing. (You needed to tell yourself that to keep from breaking down.)
-
Even though your relationship with Takashi was at a standstill, you still talked to his sisters.
Today, you had come over to make the girls lunch before they left to go hang out with their friends. Takashi hadn’t come out from his room when you called.
[“It’s fine,” you said, “I know he’s busy.”
The girls gave each other a look when they thought you weren’t paying attention. At least these Mitsuyas noticed something was up, you thought bitterly.]
They were long gone, after thanking you for the food and each giving you an awkward teenager hug on the way out. You have the rest of the day free, so you take your time cleaning the dishes, in the pathetic hope that Takashi will come out and you two will go back to normal.
You think that your prayers are answered when you see him come down the stairs. He seems a little surprised to see you still there, and he gives you a small, distracted smile. Your heart flutters as you smile back.
You think he’s coming towards you, but he walks right by the kitchen and heads towards the door instead. “Thanks for making lunch for the girls. I’m sure it was great,” he says, lingering for a moment. “You can leave the rest of the dishes; I’ll get them when I come back.”
“Oh. Where are you going?” you ask. You can hear a nearly imperceptible buzzing in your ears. You wonder if you’re angry or just sad; it’s hard to tell sometimes.
“Just out with Draken. I’ll see you later, yeah?” He’s already opening the door to leave.
You try to keep your composure, but the way you slam the plate as you set it on the counter is telling. “Yeah. See you later, I guess.” You wince. Even to your own ears, you sound bitchy. And you were doing so well in keeping it straight...
There is a second of hesitation, and then the door closes. You busy yourself with drying the remaining dishes, not bothering to look up. Takashi probably left already.
But then you hear his footsteps as he comes into the kitchen. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.
You still don’t look at him. You hate how concerned he sounds. Because of course he noticed how snotty you sounded; it wasn’t subtle. And Takashi was nothing if not a mediator, so he would obviously want to talk it out. But now, even after praying for the barest scrap of his attention back, you want nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You aren’t ready for whatever sort of conversation this is going to be.
On one hand, you are still hurt by how he treated you, how he hung out with you less and less as he replaced you with Draken and Hakkai. On the other hand, you feel like you’re being nothing but a spoiled brat. Takashi doesn’t owe you anything; he’s nice, so this is probably his own way of letting you know that you were too clingy and that he needed space while trying to spare your feelings. You just don’t want to hear that out loud.
At this point, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Your own thoughts buzz in your head like a swarm of angry locusts, rattling to the ever-quickening beat of your heart in your ears. You don’t quite know if you want to cry or scream.
He’s right in front of you now; you can see his shoes sidle up next to your slipper-clad feet on the kitchen floor as you valiantly avoid eye contact.
“C’mon, talk to me,” he says, voice softening even more. Because of course he can tell you are getting more upset.
“Just go,” you say. You sound muffled in your own ears. “Go hang out with Draken, or Hakkai, or your other gang friends. I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s up.”
“Oh, now that I want you to leave me alone, you won’t.”
“Hey, what is that supposed to mean?” He sounds a little offended now, and that just makes you angrier.
You spin around to face him for the first time. You can see how his eyebrows furrow, purple eyes glistening with concern as they take in your expression.
You lose your grip on your emotions. “Oh, what does that mean? I mean you’ve been ditching me for weeks now! Every time I come around, you’re too busy, or you already have plans with someone else!” You take a deep breath, trying to rein yourself in. “Look, if you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say something. Not any of this ‘hinting’ bullshit. Just…just say something…because I honestly don’t know what’s going on, Takashi.”
Your anger burnt through you quickly, like a flashfire, and you can feel your eyes starting to water.
Takashi looks stricken. One of his hands comes up to grip yours, using it to pull you into a tight hug. It only takes one murmur of your name, spoken gently into your hair as he tucks your head underneath his chin, for you to fully break.
There are tears streaming down your face now. You start to babble. “You’re my best friend, Takashi,” you say, pitifully. “I miss you.”
You feel his arms tighten around you, until you can almost feel your bones grinding together. It kind of hurts, but you are just happy to be held. His grip loosens soon enough, and he pulls back so he can look you in the eyes.
“I fucked up.” He smiles sadly at you. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. You’re my best friend to…but I couldn’t stay like that, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”
You feel your heart drop; you don’t understand. “What’re you trying to say?”
He lets out a sigh, and then reaches to clasp both your hands in his. His eyes dart around the room, nervously, before settling back onto yours. There is a quiet intensity in them that he only has when things are serious. “I want to be more than friends. I like you…romantically. I realized it a few weeks ago…you were always so special to me, and I didn’t understand why until Draken pointed it out to me.”
He let out a light chuckle. “I treated you differently than I did everyone else because I had—have—a crush on you. I didn’t know what to do about it, so I started avoiding you. I thought I would blurt out something that would ruin our friendship. I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I’m so sorry.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. It seems so inconceivable that he would return your feelings. You don’t even know what to say, so you focus on the end of his short speech. “So much for being the emotionally intelligent one, huh?” you say, tone lighter than it has been this whole time.
He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m better with other people’s problems than my own. But cut me some slack, this is the first time I’ve been in love with someone before.”
You freeze. “Love?”
He already told you he had a crush on you, but this brings your thoughts to a halt. Love is a much more serious claim than a simple crush.
Takashi seems to think so as well. His face shutters. It’s clear he didn’t mean to say that much, but he doesn’t back down. “Yeah. Love. But it’s okay you don’t feel the same way. I’m good with just being friends. Or whatever makes you comfortable. Um. I owe you that much after being such a shithead, huh?” He looks uncomfortable, like he is just waiting for you to reject him. Like it’s inevitable.
You give him a sharp flick on the nose. “Idiot. Who says I don’t feel the same way.”
“…You do?”
You let out a snort, fighting to keep a grin off your face. “Like I wasn’t pining after you for years. God, Takashi, I follow you like a lovesick puppy, and you didn’t catch a hint?”
You open your mouth to say something else, but you’re swept back into his arms before you can. The two of you are face to face now; from here, you get the full force of his blinding grin. He’s smiling so wide that his eyes are nothing more than crescents of purple, his pretty eyelashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looks breathtaking.
You break out into your own smile, unable to keep the happiness off your face. You feel so light, lighter than you have in a long time. The knowledge that Takashi loves you is like a shot of dopamine straight to your brain; you feel nearly delirious from the sudden rush of happiness.
“I love you,” he says. He sounds so tender when he says it, you can’t help but tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips. It’s nothing more than a peck, but the touch of his soft mouth against yours sends sparks through your body.
“I love you too,” you say.
He looks at you in awe, before he leans down to steal another kiss from your lips, this one longer, and deeper.
You never want to leave; you would happily spend forever standing in the middle of his kitchen, trading heartfelt kisses and basking in the warmth of your love with Takashi.
-
(Draken wonders what happened to Mitsuya; he missed their hangout without so much as a “can’t make it” text. He can only hope the other boy finally got the balls to confess his feelings to you. He loves his sworn brother, but he’s getting tired of seeing Mitsuya avoid you. And he is definitely getting tired of hearing his lovesick ramblings. Well, if the two of you haven’t gotten together by now, Draken supposes he could always go with Yuzuha’s plan to lock the both of you in a closet until you worked things out.)
#mitsuya takashi x reader#mitsuya x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev x reader#takashi mitsuya x reader#mitsuya fluff#mitsuya takashi#tokyo revengers#gender neutral reader#gn reader#reader insert#romy can write
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Happy Valentine's! Dealers choice, though I love SIAT
a continuation of 1 2 3 4
Naruto knows when Itachi is due back from his mission because, as always, she’s spent years sneaking into her father’s office and going through his paperwork. She’s still split on whether he genuinely hasn’t noticed (unlikely) or is just letting her snoop on highly classified files (also unlikely) but as long as she keeps being able to get past his seals, she’s going to take advantage of it.
Itachi doesn’t even have the decency to act surprised to see her sitting on his kitchen table and eating his chips. Probably because he sensed her from a literal mile away, but still. “Hello Naruto,” he says, dropping his pack on the floor and heading straight to his fridge for the disgusting weird protein health drinks he gets from the Inuzukas.
Tsume forces those on them semi-regularly and they taste like dirt. She doesn’t understand how Itachi drinks them willingly. “I need a favor.”
“Okay,” he says, tilting his head back and chugging.
She frowns. “It’s a big favor. You’re not going to like it.”
He finishes the bottle and throws it into the trash across the room without looking. “Okay.”
She throws up her hands. “Seriously? Are you really planning on letting me cash in on helping expose Madara for the rest of your life?”
“Yes,” he says.
Unbelievable. She balls up the bag of chips and throws it at his head. He lets it bounce off and fall to the ground.
He does shit like this because he knows it pisses her off. She’s sure of it.
~
Shikamaru like Naruto well enough, but tends to tune her out a lot of the time, because she’s very loud and high energy and likes to do things that end up getting everyone in trouble except her. It’s not even like she’s using the fact that she’s the hokage’s daughter to get out of it – she’s just that much better at outrunning Anbu than they are.
There’s a joke in there about her avoiding Kakakshi, but since he values his limbs and also his quiet, he never makes it.
When Naruto’s quiet, that’s when they need to worry. Naruto was really quiet around the time she unearthed the almost rebellion of the Uchiha that he’s supposed to know nothing about. She’s quiet now too, blue eyes dark and voice low as she tells them what the first two sections of the chunin exam are going to be like and that they have to be careful.
“Why are you so worried about this?” Ino asks.
Naruto trades a glance with Sasuke then, surprisingly, Sakura. Shikamaru hadn’t been sure those two could untangle from each other enough to make room from the girl from a civilian family, but it doesn’t seemed to have tripped them up too badly. “It’s need to know. For now.”
Considering all the things Naruto talks about loudly and unrepentantly, that’s very, very concerning.
“You’re telling the others this?” Chouji asks.
Sakura nods. “We’ll be waiting in the forest. We won’t go to the tower until you’re all there.”
It sounds arrogant said like that, but Sasuke’s a prodigy in his own right, and the only reason he hadn’t graduated early was because he and Naruto had wanted to be on the same team together.
The reason Naruto hadn’t graduated early was partially due to sabotage – man, had their teacher before Iruka hated her – but also because she refused to correct them, to complain, to make a big deal out of her abilities.
Naruto plays things closer to her chest than even he does.
So if she’s being this transparent and upfront, they better listen.
Troublesome.
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THE DEAL - chapter three
a/n: i’m so in love with this rafe, i could write about him for hours so i hope you guys like this! i’ve got so many ideas for the next chapters!!! (+ i realized this is going to be a long ass series so bear with me)
warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, some angst, cheating (i forgot that that’s the main warning of the series), NSFW, thigh riding, innocence kink (if you squint), lmk if i forgot something!
word count: 6.9k (…i’m sorry)
pairing: frat!rafe x innocent friend!reader
nav the deal masterlist
add yourself to my taglist <3
add yourself to my rafe taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of series you can specify it in the end note of the form!)
—
You knew about Rafe Cameron’s reputation. Who didn’t? You were sure he had flirted with any woman with a pulse on campus, let alone the long line of hookups he’d had. It wasn’t a secret, which was why you attempted to push him away, to keep him out of reach except for the deal that you had both agreed on. No emotions, no feelings, nothing at all.
And yet, there you were, sitting on the kitchen counter of the Cocoa Corner, eating ice cream from the container with a big spoon as the frustrating, and too handsome for his own good, man did the same. It was late, you had already closed the shop for the night and were waiting for your signature chocolate chip cookies to finish baking. Rafe had insisted on staying with you, not wanting to leave you all alone, or perhaps it was because he enjoyed your company, but those were words he dreaded to confess to you.
You were sitting in front of each other, your knees were brushing as you both took big spoonfuls from the small tub of ice cream between you.
“Alright, tell me about you a little,” you encouraged, breaking the comfortable silence of the room. You couldn’t lie to yourself about how much you wanted to know him; was he really a jerk or had you judged him by the rumors about him?
He shrugged, “Not much there to say.”
“C’mon, Cameron. Give me something,” you almost pleaded, although you didn’t miss the smirk on his lips at your words; you rolled your eyes playfully, the hint of a grin hiding behind your false annoyance. “Oh shut up, you know what I mean.”
He sighed pensively and adjusted himself on his seat.
“Well, I have two little sisters, who I love very much.”
That was something you definitely didn’t know, was he a good brother? And why the hell were you so interested in knowing that?
You smiled sweetly. “Go on.”
He grinned back at you, melting you with one look. “I might be overly protective of them, but don’t tell them I admitted to that. I was kinda popular back in the Outer Banks, mostly because of my father’s status; he’s always been a big shot there. Anyway, I don’t really have many good memories of the island or of my father, to be honest.”
Furrowing your eyebrows, you wanted to lean towards him and hug him. Maybe he wasn’t what you thought at all.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, no one does. I don’t talk about my family a lot.”
He tried not to ramble on, he didn’t want to annoy you, after all he was sure you didn’t care about him. You probably asked just to be polite, right? It was impossible you actually wanted to know about him.
“Why’s that?”
His head almost shot up at your question. It was a genuine question, your eyes understanding and full of curiosity, not a bit of malice was hidden behind them and it was like a breath of fresh air for him. You made him feel like he could talk about that with you, like he could’ve told you everything and you would’ve never judged him for it.
“It’s complicated. I’ve never had a good relationship with my family, especially my father. I mean, once my sisters were born, they were his whole world, I became just another child to look after. He always tried to make sure I got the best grades so I could take over the family business but he never really tried to bond with me.” He threw his head on the wall behind him; that was the first time he had been able to say all that out loud and you were still listening to him, encouraging him to keep talking as you gazed at his perfect features illuminated by the dim light of the shop. “I love my sisters, it’s not their fault our dad treats us differently. I actually miss them a lot.”
“Is that why you decided to work?”
Damn it, why did you have to be so easy to talk to?
“Yes and no. Uhm…let’s just say I didn’t use our money wisely and my dad got mad so he cut me off, said that I needed to work and understand how real life works.” He still remembered the words that his father had told him that day.
“Oh. What about your mom? Didn’t she say anything?”
You took a spoonful of ice cream and brought it to your lips nonchalantly, waiting for his answer as he played with the ring on his forefinger.
“She died when I was nine.”
The utensil in your hand almost dropped on the floor.
Shit.
“Oh God, Rafe, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-“
Smiling at you, he interrupted you, “Hey, don’t stress it. I’m okay. I’m glad I at least got to know her.”
Instinctively, you let your hand fall on his knee, bringing his attention to your soft and gentle touch. You shared a look, one that neither of you knew how to read and yet it still felt like you were telling each other a secret that only you two knew what it was.
“I bet she was an amazing woman.”
Without thinking about it twice, he grabbed the hand that was resting on his knee and rubbed the back of it with his thumb as he looked away from you. “She was. And yeah, she would have never let him do that. You know, she used to tuck me in bed every night with a lullaby and most of the time she would fall asleep with me. I remember how much she loved to make cookies for me and my dad couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t let the housemaid do that instead, but she insisted on doing it herself because she was the only one who knew how I liked them.”
When his eyes came back to stare at you, your gaze was already on him and, for some reason, it made him nervous. He shook his head, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”
“No!” you stopped him, “you aren’t! Keep talking about her.”
He raised his eyebrows, “I’m not annoying you?”
“Not at all.”
No one had ever made him feel so safe and vulnerable; he wanted to share everything with you and he knew you would’ve listened to him with a smile on your face the whole time. And so he did.
You kept talking and talking, enjoying the soft chuckles and words that lingered in the air. The dark night made you lower your voices and it felt comforting, familiar, just two people getting to know each other.
“And you?” He finally asked.
You tilted your head to the side, “What about me?”
“I want to know about you, too.”
You were close to blushing; when had this man started to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush? Except, you didn’t have a crush. He was your friend. Rafe Cameron was slowly becoming a good friend and you were okay with that.
“You don’t, you just feel like you have to ask me.”
He all but groaned in frustration. “Why do you think I’m such a jerk? You really believe I don’t wanna know about you? I could listen to you talk for hours and I still wouldn’t get tired of you.” Your eyes widened at his confession, but the shock didn’t last long, quickly replaced by a teasing smile. He closed his eyes for a second and cursed himself for what he had accidentally told you. “You’re gonna make fun of me for this for a long time, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” you said smiling wickedly.
You told him about your family and your relationship with your parents, just like he had before. He listened to you, attentively, nodding his head and asking questions from time to time. He was obviously interested in what you had to say and it took you by surprise; you truly had judged him too quickly, nonetheless you were glad that you had, because it brought you closer.
Rafe was laughing loudly at this one particular adventure you were describing to him, during which you had made a fool out of you but, luckily, you knew how to make fun of yourself. He gave you that big grin of his, perfect, white teeth showing as the sweet sound of his chuckle filled the air. You gawked at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, how his eyes shined when they fell on your face, and how they crinkled when he smiled widely.
“You’re staring, doll.”
His words brought you out of your trance and you finally realized where you were and what you were doing. He was teasing you, you knew that, but God how much you hated him when he was right.
“You wish, Cameron.”
And there it was again, Rafe Cameron’s signature smirk, the one that could’ve made anyone’s legs feel like jelly.
Right when his lips were about to part to give you another remark of his, the beeping coming from the kitchen oven brought you two back to the real world. That was why you were both there after all, not to talk and laugh together.
You raised from your sit, jumping down the counter and reaching for a pair of mitts.“Alright, are you ready to taste the best cookies the Cocoa Corner has ever seen?”
“Bring it on.”
You placed the tray of the scolding hot goods on the surface of the counter before closing the oven and taking your mitts off as you spoke to him, “We have to wait, though. They’re too-“
“SHIT!”
You whipped your head towards the yelp you had heard, coming from the man that was using the faucet of the kitchen to pour cold water on his now bruised tongue.
“I just took them out of the oven, Rafe!”
“Thorry!”
The laugh you let out was hilarious even to him, and although he felt like his tongue was on fire, he believed he would’ve done it again if it meant he got to listen to that beautiful and satisfying sound one more time.
You placed a hand on his back, soothingly. “C’mon, let me see, you idiot.”
He turned to you with his tongue sticking out of his mouth and you chuckled again. Your eyes inspected the burn, making sure it was just that, when you realized how close you were standing to him.
“You know,” he mumbled, “a kith would make this all better.”
“Shut up!” you snorted as you slightly pushed him away by putting a hand on his chest.
He chuckled and closed the new distance between you, entranced by the way you widely smiled up at him. When a strand of hair fell from behind your ear, he was quick to put it back, holding your jaw in the palm of his hand in the process. His thumb gently brushed against your cheekbone and you had to stop yourself from closing your eyes at the contact.
“Y/n?”
Your name falling from his lips, slowly, hushed, a secret between you, it made your skin buzz and your body feel like it was on fire.
“Yeah?” you managed to croak out.
“Can I-“ his words were cut off by a blinding light that was coming from the window and was shining inside the shop.
You cleared your throat. “That must be Matt.”
Rafe took a step back and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, “right.”
“What were you about to say?”
He shook his head, “nothing important. You can go.”
Biting down your bottom lip and turning towards the window, you looked back at him. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll clean this up,” he shrugged, “just go.”
You took your apron off and grabbed your purse and coat from the employers’ rack before walking towards the front door. Your hand was close to the handle when you turned around and quickly strode to him.
He knitted his eyebrows at the sudden change of your mind. You wordlessly placed a hand on his neck, forcing him to bend down, and softly kissed his cheek.
“Goodnight, Rafe.”
His hand itched to grab you and make you breathless right then and there, instead he decided on mumbling back, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
His eyes followed your figure as you stepped out of the building and was met by your boyfriend who wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pecked your lips.
When had his jaw began to clench? And why was there a weird and unsettling feeling at the pit of his stomach at the sight?
He decided to shake the feeling off and started closing the place, not before he stole another cookie to see if you were right about them being the best cookies that the bakery had ever seen. The first bite was still warm but not as much as the one he’d had before and it gave him the chance to actually taste it.
He almost choked and had to hold back his tears as he took a second bite.
They tasted exactly like his mom’s.
—
The drive to your boyfriend’s place was silent, which made you weirdly uncomfortable, as if you needed to talk to fill it or it would’ve driven you insane. Except, neither of you spoke up, lost in your own thoughts.
Once you stepped inside his apartment, he motioned for you to sit down on the couch while he made you drinks. You couldn’t really focus on anything but the last words you had shared with Rafe.
What was he about to say? It was important, you were sure of it. His low and deep tone was enough for you to know that it mustn’t have been silly. He was so close, his touch had sent a thousand of sparks through your body and it was so new and yet familiar.
Did he want to kiss you?
“Wanna listen to some music, babe?” Matt asked as he entered the living room with two glasses in his hands.
‘Babe.’ No ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart.’ You called your best friend ‘babe’, why couldn’t he have given you a different nickname?
“Sure,” you smiled.
You had to stop thinking about him. He wasn’t there, was he? He didn’t care about you other than a friend and you were glad if he even considered you as such. Your boyfriend was perfect, he really was, and he was sweet and gentle, a real gentleman.
Then why the hell was Rafe’s touch still lingering on your mind?
Matt leaned closer to you and held your face in one hand, but it didn’t make your stomach fill with butterflies, your body wasn’t aching for his touch. He finally kissed your lips and you decided to use everything you had learned from Rafe days prior.
Your hands ran through his hair and you hated yourself for thinking about how it wasn’t as good as scratching the man on your mind’s scalp. Slowly going lower, your fingers touched his covered chest, not even causing one reaction from him.
Your mind couldn’t stop wondering why Rafe had gone mad over the same kind of touch, why he had become insatiable after that, as if your hands on his body was all he could think about, while Matthew seemed completely unfazed.
You were tired; that’s what it was. You weren’t in the mood and the lack of response from your boyfriend wasn’t helping you either. Placing your palm against his chest, you pushed him away and he took the liberty to start kissing your neck, probably thinking you just needed some air.
Your mind was filled with the images of one person and one person only and it was ruining the moment. His kisses had felt different; when he had made out with you, he was doing everything for you and not to you, completely distant from what the curly haired man beside you was doing then.
“Matt, wait,” you mumbled, pushing his head away, “I don’t feel like it.”
He pulled away and huffed before throwing his head back on the headrest of the couch. You swore you saw him rolling his eyes in annoyance, causing tears to prick at your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered and, fumbling with the bottom of your shirt, continued, “can you take me home? I’m tired.”
He slightly lifted his hips from the couch and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, “I’ll call you an Uber, it’s getting late.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
Never had he ever treated like that. Had you made him mad or was he that exhausted that he couldn’t have taken you home?
—
You weren’t the only person asking herself questions all night long; Rafe’s mind was going crazy. You were running through his head constantly, never giving him a break, and he didn’t even want one.
His hands were aching to have you under him again, to touch you, to hear your moans one more time, to have your lips on his. The thought of someone else doing the same thing to you was enough to make his insides churn and his chest squeeze.
He couldn’t bare the image he had in his head of your boyfriend’s hands touching your skin, the same one he had touched and caressed, that he had kissed. God, what wouldn’t he have given to press his mouth against your skin in that moment.
When morning came and he saw you at work, his actions began having a mind of their own and lead him to you with determination.
“Good morning,” he smiled and you did the same. “Can I talk to you real quick?”
Knitting your eyebrows together in confusion, you nodded, “Of course.”
He pulled you inside your boss’ office, knowing that she was absent for the day, and closed the door behind him. You sat on her desk, your feet still on the ground as you looked at him expectantly.
“There’s a slight change of plans.”
“What?”
He sighed while nervously scratching at his nonexistent stubble, “I won’t be here for the rest of the week. I have some stuff to take care of so if you need my help, it’s gotta be today.”
It wasn’t totally a lie. It was true, he was leaving town for almost a week for his father had asked him to come home and, although he didn’t want to, he still missed his sisters and couldn’t deny the fact that he was impatiently waiting to see them again, therefore he had agreed.
“Oh. Like…tonight? Are you sure? Maybe we can see each other tomorrow-“
“Yup, tonight,” he interrupted you, “I’m busy tomorrow and I don’t want anything left undone before I have to go.”
That was a lie. He needed you. He didn’t care how or where, but he had to have you and he couldn’t have waited anymore.
“Okay,” you said, unsure.
“That is if you still need m-“
“I do.”
A smirk etched onto his mouth at your fast reply and you wanted to facepalm yourself at your eagerness. Things had been so bad with your boyfriend the day before that you believed you still needed his help, or perhaps it wasn’t his aid that you craved so much.
“Stop doing that,” you groaned.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that!”
He took a step closer, taunting you, “Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me or something,” you muttered.
Oh, how true were those words. He didn’t know how to explain to you that he wanted to do just that, especially since he hadn’t been able to stop looking at your legs, exposed by your short skirt.
Licking his lips and gazing down at you, he whispered, “See you tonight, doll.” His hand lingered on your thigh, “And don’t change into something else. I like your skirt.”
He pressed a kiss on your cheek before leaving you a flustered mess in the empty room; what the hell had just happened?
—
It was barely seven o’ clock when you found yourself standing in Rafe’s room again. You felt bolder than the previous time, maybe it was because you already knew you weren’t going to leave the building unsatisfied or embarrassed; flustered? Sure, but never out of place.
The moment he had closed the door behind you, he pounced on you, claiming your mouth with need, as if he had waited his whole life for that kiss. He was moaning against your lips, focusing on the way your hands danced around his body to touch him.
When he realized you were both running out of air, he began kissing your neck and holding you close as you scraped his scalp and enjoyed the way he groaned at each brush of your fingers.
You couldn’t help but notice the difference with the way Rafe kissed your skin and the way Matt did.
He nipped at your exposed neck, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other went down, his fingers gripping the curve of your ass. Once his tongue made its way to a certain spot, causing you to almost fall to your knees at the sensitivity, he smirked and began sucking right there as his pants got tighter at the sound of your heavy breaths.
“Rafe…” you moaned.
He kissed up your neck to look back at your face and rested his forehead on yours. “Everything okay?” he exhaled.
You nodded and closed your eyes as you tried to regain your breath from the amount of things he had just been able to make you feel in less than fifteen minutes.
He held your face in one hand and forced you to reopen your eyes, looking right up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Pecking your lips, he took your hand in his and led you to his bed. He sat on the edge and made you stand in between his legs while his hands stroked up and down your thighs, exposed by the skirt you were wearing, just like he had asked.
“Can you take your panties off for me, sweetheart?” he questioned as he gazed up at you.
You swallowed thickly; you didn’t know if you were wishing you had heard him wrong or right. “W-what?”
“I have an idea in mind for today’s little session, if that’s okay with you.”
His touch brought you comfort, the way he rubbed his thumbs on the back of your legs, how he sweetly left a quick peck on your stomach to remind you he was going to be gentle and you couldn’t help but feel safe.
You hooked your fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slowly brought them down until they pooled at your feet. He never took his eyes off your face as you kicked the garment somewhere in the room and it made a fire ignite inside you.
“C’mere,” he purred, aiding you with sitting on his thigh, your legs on either side of it.
“What does this have to do with bringing pleasure to someone else?” You whispered for the feeling of the cotton of his sweatpants pressing right against your bare cunt was already making you a nervous mess.
He gently pushed a strand of hair out of your face and forced you to stare him in the eyes, “Do you trust me?”
The low and husky sound of his tone caused you to clench around nothing and you had to nod at his words, not really trusting your voice in that moment. He tsked and slowly shook his head, “I need words, doll.”
You swallowed thickly as you kept eye contact, “I trust you.”
He placed his forehead against yours and both of his hands fell on your hips, keeping you steady on his thigh.
“Then let me make you feel good, yeah?”
He began to move your body back and forth and a wet spot, caused by your arousal, was already visible on his sweatpants.
He was holding himself back from taking you right then and there as the sound of your gasps and whimpers of pleasures filled his ears; but this was about you and he wanted to see you fall apart from his touch only.
His lips started leaving soft kisses down your neck until they reached, once more, that spot that he had already claimed as his and he sucked on it, causing you to hold his head with one hand and rest the other on his shoulder to balance yourself. When a moan of his name left your swollen lips, he couldn’t help himself from groaning against your skin.
The moment he raised his head from your neck and looked at your unfocused eyes and parted lips, everything in him ached for more, to give you more, to see more, to be more.
“Just like that, angel,” he mumbled in your ear, the new nickname sending goosebumps all over your skin; “such a good girl.”
His hands caressed the exposed skin of your thighs and made their way up your skirt until they rested on your naked behind, squeezing it gently as he helped your movements. When the pleasure became too much, your head fell on his shoulder, whining in his ear and making him harder than he had ever been in his whole life. Your hips never stopped moving back and forth, faster and harder, when with one hand he grabbed your hair and forced you to raise your head; he smashed his lips against yours and thrusted his tongue in your mouth, exploring it and basking in the gasps that left your lips.
Pulling away from your inviting mouth, he almost came untouched at the sound of your whine caused by the loss of his lips. He placed two fingers on your bottom lip and you unconsciously gave him access to your mouth, your mind hazy from the pleasure.
“Suck my fingers for me,” he all but growled.
You did as he asked, sucking and licking his digits while your hands wrapped around his wrist to keep him from pulling away. Rafe gawked at you, the way you were basically deepthroating his fingers with half-lidded eyes, gazing at him with that innocent look, made him selfishly wish they were something else. His head was filled with mental pictures of you on your knees for him, sucking his cock just like you were doing his fingers, those fuck me eyes staring right into his soul as you make him feel good. However, it was about your pleasure in that moment, not his, and he was dying to see you come undone on top of him. He needed it like water in the desert and he had never felt so thirsty in his whole life.
The thought that he was the one that was making you feel good, that those sounds that were leaving your plumped lips were because of him, that the reason why you would come back home all fucked out was him, and not that tool of your boyfriend, was enough to make him officially insane.
He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a string of your saliva still connecting you to them, and brought them down to your exposed cunt. Finally, he was touching you, slowly rubbing your puffy clit and helping you see stars thanks to his experienced touch. He stopped himself from moaning at the feeling of your bare pussy under the pads of his fingers and focused on tracing circles on your bundle of nerves. Smirking at the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, he claimed your mouth again.
When his leg began bouncing up and down, bringing you even more pleasure, you couldn’t keep it in anymore, moaning his name in his mouth as you came all over his covered thigh. You pulled away from him to take deep breaths as your cunt kept clenching around nothing and your whole body begged to be touched by him.
He placed his lips on the corners of your mouth, then your cheek, until they reached your ear. “Did that feel good, doll?” he asked cockily, knowing full well that you were panting and still lazily grinding against him for you craved that high again.
Yet, as much as you didn’t want to show him, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were a trembling mess on his lap. “‘s good,” you tried to choke out before burying yourself in the crook of his neck in exhaustion.
He hummed when you left a kiss on his exposed skin, without even realizing what you were doing. “Made such a big mess on my pants, didn’t you?”
“‘m sorry,” you knew your cheeks had to be beet red from the embarrassment.
He brushed some hair out of your face, caressing your head in the process, “don’t apologize. It was hot.”
With one hand, he brought one leg on his other side, making you sit right on the bulge in his pants with both of his palms grabbing the naked skin of your thighs. You all but gasped at the feeling of his covered, hard cock pressing right against you and he chuckled lowly at your reaction.
“Maybe it was a little bit too hot,” he continued.
You bit your bottom lip in thought, thankful that your face was still hidden in his neck; “do you want me to help?”
His eyes widened at your words, although he couldn’t lie that it wasn’t the only thought on his mind at the moment. The innocence laced in your tone could’ve made him burst without a touch and the thought alone of having even just your hand around him was making him even harder. But then again, it was about you right then, not him, it was always about you.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything,” he cooed, his hand on your head as his fingers brushed through your hair.
You snuggled closer into him, enjoying his warmth, his arms around you, his touch, him.
“You sure?”
He hummed and kissed the side of your head, such a simple act, but it caused thousands of butterflies come alive inside your stomach; was that still just desire?
The hand that wasn’t in your hair grabbed the plush of your bare thigh, sliding up to your ass until it fell on your hip and circled around your waist to keep your body pressed against his as he hugged you tightly.
“Are you okay, angel?”
You nodded in his neck and slid your hands from his shoulders to his midsection, wrapping your arms around him. He sighed and closed his eyes in blissful peace before he reopened them and the realization hit him: he didn’t want you to do anything in return, he only needed you.
Fuck.
That was nothing, right? He was your friend and he cared about you, that’s all it was. So what if he wanted to make sure you were okay? Or if he had this inexplicable need of hugging you close to him and to have you in his arms? And what if he felt like he had to protect you, to keep you safe in his embrace? That’s what friends do.
Friends. Really good ones.
You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that; seconds, minutes, hours probably. The only thing you knew was that neither of you seemed to care, drowning in each other’s arms. You kissed his shoulder or the side of his neck from time to time, his arms tightening around you each time, and he pressed his lips against your forehead in return, while his hands stroked the naked skin of your thighs or simply wrapped around you.
He breathed you in and, God knows why, he felt protected. After the talk you’d had the day before, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, your laugh, your smile, your interest in him, the way your eyes showed him that you cared about him and you didn’t want anything in return. He wasn’t only being impatient about having you a trembling mess for him, he had this strong need to hold you because he knew it would’ve made all of his problems go away.
And it did.
He had never felt like this about anyone and it scared him. What was he supposed to do? You had a boyfriend and, as much as he hated to admit that, he sounded like he was good for you, he was sure that he treated you better than Rafe ever could have, that he knew exactly what you needed to be happy, and Rafe wasn’t going to take that away from you. His weren’t feelings, it was just him wanting what he couldn’t have; that’s what he tried to convince himself of.
“Hey,” you finally spoke up, although the silence was so peaceful you were about to fall asleep right there on his lap. “It’s getting late.”
No, it wasn’t. You could’ve stayed like that for the rest of your life.
“Mh, I’ll take you home.”
You raised your head from the beautiful heaven it had been resting on to stare at him. “Oh. You don’t have to. I can just-“
“Bullshit,” he chuckled, as if it had been the most obvious thing in the universe, “I’ve got a car and a license, I’m not letting you go home all alone so late at night.”
And so you left the building with his arm around your shoulders, his sweatshirt covering your body as you both tried to ignore the stares from his housemates.
Sleeping had become optional for the both of you that night, especially for Rafe, who couldn’t get you out of his head. What had you done to him? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you in his arms? Why did he want you to sleep wrapped around him?
He had to do something. He hadn’t been with someone else in weeks, he just needed to see another woman, to touch someone who wasn’t you and everything would’ve gone back to normal, right?
When two days after, a friday, a party was rumored to be thrown at the Delta Mu house, he was thrilled. Finally he had a chance to hook up with another girl. That was exactly what he wanted.
One hundred percent.
You, on the other hand, had never been more confused in your whole life.
No one had ever held you the way Rafe had done that night. He cherished you, he was careful of your feelings, of what you wanted, of you. He had gotten really good at his job, or anyway, better than he was before, so what was the point of prolonging your time alone together? No one was forcing him.
Unless he craved it just as much as you did.
Did he?
Did you?
—
Your boyfriend and your best friend had dragged you to that party, you didn’t feel like going. Everyone had seen you two days prior under Rafe Cameron’s arm and you really didn’t want to give them reasons to talk about you. But there you were, at the Delta Mu party and unconsciously looking for him.
Had that party been the reason why he said he was busy? Or was he actually doing something more important?
You took a sip of your drink and smiled at some familiar faces, trying to enjoy the music, the free alcohol and forget about what you had done the last time you had been in that place. And your strategy seemed to work, until your eyes landed on a scene you wished you had never had to see.
Rafe was sitting on the couch, a girl on his lap, the same way you had been days prior, as they made out like no one was around them. He seemed rigid, stuck in one position, while the girl didn’t stop her grinding against his crotch and it made you feel like the biggest idiot of the century.
Of course the mighty Rafe Cameron didn’t give a fuck about you or about your feelings, he was a player, always had been and always would be. That was why you hated guys like him, they made you feel special and then leave you when someone else came along.
Matthew was different. He wanted one person for the rest of his life and that was what you needed in your life: stability. Rafe couldn’t have given you that.
Why did you have to work with him of all people? You were glad his training was almost done and after that, he was out on his own, even though he would’ve still continued working with you. You deserved a break from him, he was too much, the most confusing man you had ever met. He was frustrating, irritating, impossible to reason with, to deal with.
Then why were your eyes burning at the sight of him with another woman?
—
“Morning, doll,” Rafe greeted with a smirk on his face as he entered the Cocoa Corner, less than twelve hours after you had been met with the sight of him eating a girl’s face.
He was wearing black sunglasses, probably more expensive than your whole wardrobe, a buttoned up shirt and dress pants and you hated how much handsome he looked.
“Weren’t you supposed to leave town today, Cameron?”
You turned around and resumed what you were doing, cleaning the coffee machine while he looked at you with a frown on his face.
“Yeah,” he admitted, uncertain, as he put the sunglasses on his head, “I wanted to say bye.”
“Bye.”
“What’s with the cold treatment all of a sudden?” he finally inquired as he circled the counter to stand behind you.
He grabbed your arm, forcing you to give him your attention.
“I’m trying to work.”
“And I’m trying to talk to you.”
His eyes stared right into yours and tried to understand you, to get what was going on in your head, but you didn’t give in.
If he wanted to play games, then that was what you were going to do from then.
You tried to shrug his hand off of you, “Are you going let me work? Some of us survive off of this, you know.”
He raised one eyebrow; when had you become so cold again?
“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll let you go.”
“Damn it, Cameron! Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Just tell me what I did and I’ll fix it, please.”
He was pleading. He was freaking pleading. You hated him, so much sometimes it consumed you. It was tearing you from the inside, and it was all just hatred.
“I don’t need your to fix it!” you snapped. “Leave me alone. I’m sure there are plenty of girls who are dying to be in my place, aren’t there?”
“Doesn’t mean I want them to.”
“Does it? Are you sure about that?” you challenged him, a look he had never seen in your eyes before burning in the stare you were giving him.
Oh.
Oh.
“Were you at the party last night?”
Finally, he let go of your arm and you were able to cross both of them on your chest in annoyance. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He licked his lips and took his eyes off of you for a second before they fell back on your angry expression. “Because I think you saw me and I believe you’re doing this little act here because you’re jealous.”
You scoffed, incredulous at what he was saying. As if you could’ve been jealous of him.
“Keep dreaming, Cameron.”
“So you’re not jealous?”
“Why would I be?”
He nodded his head in thought and took a step closer to where you were standing. “Then you don’t mind if I hook up with someone tonight, right?”
“You can do whatever you want, Cameron; I don’t care,” you lied and it was not a secret to either of you.
He took another step, ending up caging you in between his body and the side counter, his arms on either side of you as he bent his head to close the distance between you.
“I didn’t say that’s what I want,” he exhaled, “What I want is way far from what I do.”
You gained that last bit of courage you had left to make eye contact as you spoke your next words, “Then what do you want?”
His lips had gotten too near to yours, dangerously close and, although it wasn’t the first time, the lack of distance felt different, heavier, more important. His nose brushed against yours as he dipped his head, almost touching your mouth, you could feel his heavy breaths fanning out on your slightly parted lips, so inviting he felt like he would’ve died if he hadn’t kissed them right that second.
“Hey! You two!” your boss’ voice pulled you apart, close to jumping far from each other at the startling sound. “Go back to work!”
“Sorry, May!”
“Yeah, sorry!” Rafe added.
She pointed at him with a questioning look. “Aren’t you supposed to be driving to your family emergency?”
“He was just going,” you interjected as you attempted at pushing him out of the building.
“And by the way, nothing is gonna happen with anyone tonight. I’m really going only for my family, no need to be jealous,” he tried to say while you kept kicking him out.
“See if I care.”
“But you do,” he turned to you, “You might lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. I’ll see you in a week, doll,” he spoke, taking your hand in his before walking away.
“Bye, Rafe,” you whispered when he had already left and your eyes fell on the ring he had placed in your palm when he was holding it.
He neglected to tell you that the reason why you had no reason to be jealous was because he had found out that he wasn’t able to touch another woman without thinking of you and no one could’ve compared.
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14
Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?
Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing
Word Count: 6.0k
Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!
Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part
***
“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.
To save you.
A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.
“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.
“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?
“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”
Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.
“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.
“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.
“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.
“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”
“And why now?” You added.
“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.
“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”
You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”
“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.
“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:
Hope.
You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.
“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.
“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.
“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.
“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.
“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”
“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.
“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.
“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”
“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.
“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.
“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.
“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”
“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.
“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.
“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.
“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.
“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.
“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.
“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”
“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.
“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.
With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.
“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.
You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.
I’m still here.
***
Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.
You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.
Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.
“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.
“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.
“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”
You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.
Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”
It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.
“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”
“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.
“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.
“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.
“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”
The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.
After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.
“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“
“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.
“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”
Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.
You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.
He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.
“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”
Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.
When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.
“Y/n.”
***
Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.
“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.
“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.
“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”
Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.
“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.
“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.
“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”
His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.
“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.
“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.
Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”
“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.
“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.
The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.
It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.
“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.
In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.
“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.
“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.
You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.
You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.
Towards home.
Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.
“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.
You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.
He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.
You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.
***
You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.
“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.
“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.
“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”
“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”
As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.
“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck is she?!”
“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”
His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.
“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.
“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”
You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”
“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”
“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”
“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”
“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.
Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.
“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.
“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.
“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”
“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.
“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.
“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”
“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.
He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.
“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.
“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.
You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.
***
a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose
#stranger things#steve harrington#joe keery#steve harrington fanfic#netflix#friends to lovers#steve harrington friends to lovers#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#Steve harrington x reader#Steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#Steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things x you#stranger things fanfic
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ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD
✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙
Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.
I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.
Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.
Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.
Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.
I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).
That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.
Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.
Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.
I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.
Apreciation
@ewanmitchellcrumbs
Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.
On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.
I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!
@targaryenrealnessdarling
Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!
@persephonerinyes
You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!
@zenka96
You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.
@huramuna
I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.
@black-dread & @aegonx
You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!
@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose
Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!
lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit
And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!
Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!
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Fool For Love
part 9
~~~
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8
~~~
Author’s Note: Aaand it’s finally done! I always have trouble wrapping up a story, and this one was no exception… but I hope you’ll enjoy it!
This will be posted at AO3 at some point. (In fact, if I write more BG3 fics I’ll probably post it on AO3 instead of Tumblr, as usual. And I do have a few ideas actually…👀)
Thank you all for the likes, reblogs, and comments <3 it has definitely helped me keep going!
~~~
Astarion x reader/Tav
Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, finally a happy ending for these two knuckleheads
Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.
To begin with, you didn’t handle it well. You tried moving on, and that seemed to work. At least you told yourself that it did.
Then something happened that gave you hope. Perhaps he feels something for you too, after all?
~~~
You find him on the path close to the archway, in almost the same spot where you talked to Bex mere days ago. You take a moment to study him from afar. It’s hard to be sure when there’s nothing but the light from the moon illuminating him, but you think his shoulders look tense. Is this your doing?
You wish you could hug him, offer to him relax in your arms.
“I’m afraid your personal blood bank will be closed for a while,” you joke as you walk closer, hoping it will lighten his mood. “For restocking purposes.”
Astarion doesn’t turn around, and when he remains silent for several tension-filled seconds, you wonder if your quip was a mistake.
“Did you mean it?” he finally asks.
The question takes you by surprise and try as you might, you can’t figure out what he’s talking about. “I’m sorry?”
“You said that you’d do anything for me. Did you mean it?”
Oh. That. “Yes.”
Your heart starts pounding as he shifts to look at you. Silvery beams of moonlight caress his beautiful face, a face painted with apprehension — and possibly hope.
“And what does that mean?”
“What do you want it to mean?” you ask in return, because you’re not ready to say those three little words. Not yet.
“Nice try, Tav.” His jaw tightening, Astarion suddenly looks closed off. “If you’re going to play coy with me you might as well leave.”
With that, he turns away from you again — and it feels like a stab to the heart. “It means,” you amend quickly, “that I care for you.” You’ve never been good at expressing your emotions. Never been good at opening yourself up to other people. And it’s scary to do so now. “Deeply.”
Astarion scoffs. “I bet you said that to Gale too,” he says, and the bitterness in his voice stings.
“I– what are you talking about?”
“I saw you. You went to him.”
Acting without thought, you rush forward to place yourself in front of him to make sure that he looks at you; he needs to fully understand what you say next. “It wasn't like that, we only talked. Astarion, you’re special to me.”
You steel yourself for another cutting remark, but you’re helpless against the sad expression that replaces the anger. “So special that you decided to end things between us?”
Fool. You’ve been a fool. “I ended things because I didn’t think…” Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself to be honest. “I did it because I was jealous and I couldn’t handle the possibility of you breaking my heart.”
His brow twitches in confusion. “You were jealous? Of who?”
You desperately ache to touch him, but you hold yourself back. “Shadowheart. Halsin. Anyone that I thought was sharing your bed besides me.”
“Tav. Darling.” He sounds exasperated but hearing the endearment again sparks tingles of joy and hope inside your chest. “I haven't invited anyone to my bed since we started sleeping together.”
Oh. Oh. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” For the first time since you found him, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I thought you knew that.”
“No. No, I didn’t.” To say that you’ve been an idiot is an understatement. You’ve let yourself see things that aren’t there because you are insecure. “I haven’t either, you know. Been with anyone else since you.”
The smile twists into something teasing and sultry that feels more like Astarion. “Is that so?”
“It is, and I honestly can’t believe you’d think anything different.” It’s true. While you wouldn’t call yourself unattractive, you’ve never really been one to draw the attention of potential lovers. You’ve had a few before Astarion of course, but in general, people have been more inclined to remain your friend rather than try to pursue something more. “You wouldn’t have looked twice at me if you had seen me on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.”
“Now that is just untrue, my dear Tav.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “As you so bluntly pointed out that night, my motives for seducing you may partly have been driven by self-preservation, but I chose you for a reason — and not because you're our reluctant leader.”
His slender fingers grip you tighter and the touch is exactly what you need just then. “Is that so?” you echo, attempting to sound teasing. You fail spectacularly.
“I was drawn to you even before I started to develop feelings for you.” Lifting your hand, he presses a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin of your palm before resting it against his cheek. “At first, I thought it was the need for your body that kept you in my thoughts night and day. But as I got to know you better, I realised it was your mind — you — that held my attention.” Closing his eyes, he leans into the touch with a sigh. “What Cazador had me do… It taught me how to read people. But you…?” He opens his eyes again to look at you, and what you see makes your heart skip a beat. “I thought I had you figured out, but you continuously prove me wrong. And I appreciate that more than I can express.”
“Astarion.” There’s so much you want to say. So much you need to say. But in that moment, you finally find the courage to tell him what you should’ve told him weeks ago, so the rest will just have to wait. “Astarion, I love you.”
His eyes widen in surprise as something vulnerable flashes across his face. After five heartbeats — you know, because you counted — he lets go of your hand to gently cup your neck.
The kiss is soft and gentle. Careful. In a way, it feels like a first kiss.
“Why didn’t you tell me that instead of breaking up with me?” He kisses you again before you can reply. “There you go again, doing the unexpected.”
You don’t even try to hold back a smile. “Have to keep you on your toes, you know. And I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it would be welcomed, you silly goose.” To your surprise, it no longer hurts as much thinking back to that night. “First you disappeared and then when I found you, you were sitting between Halsin and Shadowheart.”
“My my, were you jealous, darling?” he drawls in mock surprise. The bastard.
“Of course I was!” You very carefully wrap your arms around his waist, ignoring the ache from your injury. Because you need to feel him against you, pain be damned. “Why do you think I gave Gale so much attention?”
“And got yourself decadently drunk, too. It was a glorious sight.”
“Oh shush, you.” Despite yourself, you laugh.
“I have to apologise, though, my darling. I, too, was jealous.” His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I could tell something was troubling you, but you kept being so elusive. I assumed… I thought that meant you only deemed me worthy of getting access to your body, and nothing more.”
“Astarion.” The sincerity and sorrow permeating his words make you feel like a villain. “Gods, I’m so sorry, too. At the time, I didn’t think you’d be interested in anything else.”
“I want anything and everything you give me, Tav.” You feel his fingers slide down your uninjured side, gripping you as firmly as he dares to. Lifting his head to get a better look at you, his eyes lock with yours. “I love you, with everything that I am.”
You can see the truth of it in his gaze, can feel it in his touch. He loves you. Was it always there and you were just blind to it? Or did he hide his feelings, just like you did?
It doesn’t matter, you decide, because all you need to know is that he’s in your arms.
“You have all of me, Astarion.”
“My beautiful Tav.”
You share another kiss, and then Astarion insists you both go back to camp to let you rest. The thrumming pain of the wound is there, but it’s easily overshadowed by the warmth blooming in your chest every time Astarion throws a smile your way on your way back. His hand is still linked with yours — it’s such a small detail but it feels infinitely more intimate than anything else you’ve shared with him so far. It’s impossible to stop smiling — not that you’re trying.
He follows you to your tent but to your dismay, he tries to leave after he has made sure that you have everything you need.
“Please don’t leave,” you say, refusing to let go of him. “I want you to stay. Stay the night.”
“Tav, my love, you’re in no condition to have sex.”
My love. It almost throws you off course to hear the new endearment. “Astarion, my love,” you counter, and oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction, “I wasn’t suggesting we’d have sex. I just want you close. Assuming that’s alright, of course.”
“Really?” He sounds just a tad surprised; that’s something you and he will need to unpack before going any further. But not tonight. “Well, that I can do.”
It takes a bit of careful shuffling around, but you manage to find a position that’s comfortable for you both without putting pressure on your injury.
He’s here. In your arms. You didn’t think you’d get to have this, but he truly is here. Your contented sigh is nothing but a muffled exhale into his curls but he doesn’t seem to mind, giving you a fond chuckle in response.
“Are you sniffing my hair, darling?”
“No.” It doesn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. “Well. Maybe a little,” you confess. “I can’t help that you smell nice.”
“Oh, I don’t mind, pet. Your scent is quite enticing too, you know.” You feel his chest expanding as he takes a deep inhale. “Drives me crazy sometimes.”
“Since you drive me crazy on a regular basis, I’d say that’s only fair.”
“Why, you little cheek..! Just watch me be even more annoying from now on.”
“You’re not annoying,” you say, trying to hold back a yawn. “You’re just a handful.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Of course–“ you lose the battle against another yawn. “…you will.”
You feel the press of his lips against your skin. “Quite right.”
“Astarion?” Your eyelids start to get heavy, and for the first in what seems like ages, you feel completely safe and relaxed. “I’m so happy I have you in my life.”
“Me too, darling. Me too.” His hand slides down to find yours, lacing your fingers. “Now go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over us. And tomorrow we will face whatever comes next. Together.”
~~~
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 spoilers#no longer a wip because it’s finisheeeeed
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i have so many thoughts about phil and sunny and tubbo and this is going under a read more because it got really long lol
disclaimer that i don't watch phil super often! i watch qsmp with a crow friend who keeps me updated on his streams, so he's probably one of the characters i'm most familiar with outside of tubbo, but that's obviously not quite the same as me directly watching his streams. also this is only my interpretation and understanding of the characters, of course!
Phil is a bit of a hermit and doesn't know the other eggs that well; Chayanne and Tallulah are actually more social than their dad is. There are very few people on this island that Phil is actually close to, and Tubbo is one of them. That's kind of a double-edged sword when it comes to Phil's relationship with Sunny.
Phil kind of tends to extrapolate his relationship with Tubbo onto Sunny, because he doesn't know her well enough to realize that what works for him and Tubbo is not going to work for him and Sunny. It becomes a cycle, because Phil unknowingly does or says something that hurts Sunny, and then Sunny avoids being alone with him, so he doesn't get to know her well enough to realize that the way he treats Tubbo is not how Sunny wants or needs to be treated.
This sets up a really interesting conflict and character dynamic here, especially because Tubbo is also extrapolating his own relationship with Phil onto Sunny. He doesn't really understand that Sunny has issues with Phil, because when he and Sunny are with Phil, he's usually focused more on his own interactions with Phil and the godkids' than Sunny's. Plus it's not like Tubbo and Sunny are often with Phil alone; usually Chayanne and Tallulah are there too, and there's not much reason for Sunny to be needing to interact with Phil one-on-one.
And while Sunny has told Tubbo a little bit about how they feel with Phil, he's also observed them having issues with Tallulah, Leo, and even Richas now, and he's also watched those issues clear up. There's no reason for Tubbo to assume that her issues with Phil are any different. The nature of Tubbo's role as a buffer between Sunny and Phil means that he hasn't been able to observe the interactions that caused the problem. If Tubbo's there, Tubbo's the one they're both interacting with more just due to the fact that he's more present in both of their lives.
But here's the thing with Phil being a hermit. The issue isn't just his relationship with Tubbo; it's also that his children always come first. We've seen that even before we met Sunny. He was completely convinced that he had to win Purgatory because no one would be looking out for his kids except himself, not realizing that the leader of Soulfire was trying to get back the exact same eggs. For Phil, it's extremely black and white.
And so when he's alone with Sunny, when he's looking at her as an egg rather than as Tubbo's daughter, he puts his kids first. He's happy to do whatever he can to help. He collected items for cookies for all of the eggs on the island for a reason! He cares a lot about the eggs, even from a distance. He's just not the type of person to wait to feed his kids until the other kids are fed too, because his first priority has to be Chayanne and Tallulah.
But his limit is anything that could put his own family at risk. Which is understandable! He has two kids to look out for. But Phil is extremely pragmatic, and so he tells Sunny exactly the truth. She can stay with him, but his kids come first. Tallulah has been hurt, so her feelings come first. He's very good at making sure his kids are taken care of, and he's very good at weighing the risks, and he's honest about it once he has.
Which would maybe be perfectly fine for some other eggs, but the thing is, Phil doesn't know Sunny. He's treating her the exact opposite of the way she needs to be treated, but he doesn't know her well enough to realize it. He's spent a lot of time around her without actually getting to know her, because there's always that Tubbo and Chayanne buffer. So he doesn't realize that they don't need to be treated the way he treats Tubbo. She needs to be treated the way he treats Tallulah. They need to be told that it's okay to feel scared and abandoned, and that they are loved, and that someone will always be there for them.
(Chayanne does realize that. He's a very good godbrother.)
I hope someday Phil will get to know Sunny better and realize better ways to communicate with her, though I do understand that there will always be the issue of his kids coming first, while Sunny desperately needs people who put her first. (And gosh, how awful must it have been for them to lose Creation, who called them rank one, and told them they were loved, and then left them just like everybody else.) They'll never have the relationship Tubbo has with Phil's kids, and that's okay. But I hope that Sunny can one day look at Phil and know that she is loved, even if it's not exactly the kind of love she's been searching for.
#qsmp#tubbo#qsmp tubbo#qsmp sunnysideup#sunnysideup#qsmp sunny#qsmp philza#qsmp ph1lza#philza#ph1lza#this is not meant as neg to any of the characters btw it's just character analysis#thus why i've put it in the tags#i love all of these characters and i'm happy to discuss them in further depth :D
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10 Anticipated BLs for 2024
Since I'm excited for ALL the GLs (Pluto, 23.5, Sunshine in the Wind, Chaser Game, Be Mine, y todo!), I'm making my list of the 10 BLs I'm excited for this year with brief reasons why I'm looking forward to them. In my normal fashion, I cheat my way into having more. All except one is Thai because Thailand loves to tease series three years in advance, then never make them, but I strongly believe these are coming:
The Next Prince
Zee continues to never play a poor person, and a trailer is supposed to drop in the first quarter of this year. I never knew there was so many fencers on BL Tumblr, so I'm looking forward to everyone's commentary on how well the characters poke with their sticks or whatever fencers do.
Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart
It's a heist BL. It has YinWar. It has Prom x Mark. It has Bonz. It's Dee Hup House (we got beef). It's Director Tee and probably Cinematographer Jim. It might have color coding. There is not one thing I can find wrong with this series. It's perfect on paper, and I'm praying that translates well to the screen.
Spare Me Your Mercy
Like that lady in Titanic, I've been waiting 80 years for this series (give me a minute to cry about MaxTul), and it's finally near! I'm getting JJ & Tor in a Dr. Sammon piece, who I feel writes "Be Gay, Do Crime" very well, so I'll be forgiving any of these two gays' wrongs including murder, attempted murder, contemplating murder, and murdering each other in the bedroom (ahhhh!).
Wandee Goodday
Golf from The Eclipse is directing. It's about Muay Thai. It has an older doctor and a younger boxer who start off as bed friends (and I think one is actually a virgin). It has color coding. It has me already seated and waiting with popcorn, and I think it might be the first offering that will be delivered from GMMTV's 2024 lineup.
Sequels: Choco Milk Shake 2, Unintentional Love Story 2, My Doctor
Is Choco Milk Shake 2 gonna finally give me poly? Probably not, but I hope My Doctor brings the same heat the side couple did in Be Mine, Superstar, and the side couple getting the spotlight in Unintentional Love Story 2 will also make my side-couple-supremacy heart very happy this year.
Live in Love
It looks color coded. That's it. That's the reason. Keeping my expectations low because it might not get made since this is Thailand's favorite game.
Red Peafowl
The character reveals were absolute chaos, so I'm hoping that chaos transfers over to the actual series because it can either be a mess or a masterpiece, but it cannot be mediocre with Max, Cooheart, Boun, Mek, and Yacht as supports. Plus, it has color coding and a bird that is quickly becoming a Tumblr god.
Love Upon a Time
Even though it is a historical queer series, which means it could be sad, I think Domundi will keep the sass, so James' character won't be crying in the 1600s club but instead eating fruit seductively to encourage Net's character to put his homosexual skills into practice instead of simply theorizing about them, which is something I need more of. Plus, it has color coding.
Love Puzzle
This is one that might not get made because . . . Thailand. It's connected to Chains of Heart, but I don't care because the cast looks good and Poppy is gonna finally get to kiss a homie. If this doesn't get made, I will cry thug tears. It's 2024. Poppy deserves to kiss a man already.
My Stand-In
I don't understand the plot, but it doesn't matter because Pepzi and Khom are directing, and in case that means nothing, those were KinnPorsche's directors! Then, it has Up and Poom as the leads, plus a stacked supporting cast. I'm here. I'm queer. And I'm ready to be served.
Honorable Mention: Peaceful Property
It's about los espookys and features Tay and New. Will it be a QL? The streets are saying no, but all the characters are color coded, and all's I'm saying is what would be the point of color coding them if I ain't getting a BL main couple and a GL side couple? It's already canon to me.
Bonus: MosBank & JoongDunk
MosBank had like eighty projects announced for 2023, and I got NONE! Big Dragon 2, Big Dragon: The Movie, SunsetxVibes, where you at?! Y Journey: Stay Like a Local and Club Friday do not count. I don't want to watch their horror movie, but gosh darnit, if that comes out before everything else, I just might.
And I am a JoongDunk fan first, and a human second. Give my boys a gym BL already, GMMTV!
#10 Anticipated BLs for 2024#I've made my list#and I'm checking it twice#thai bls#I'm excited for ALL the gls
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Favourite tim drake recs? :0
Assuming you mean fanfic recs, I've got probably the most for him and this is long, so it's going under the cut;
This is genuinely one of my favorites, it's set post-Red Robin, and deals with Tim's vigilante stalking habits, his family finding out, Cass realizing there's no photos of Tim, them setting out to take/find some of him (a much harder feat than you'd think) and finally, Tim seeing the photos. It's amazing and sweet, and I can't recommend it enough. (I especially like the Bruce & Tim and Tim & Damian in this)
This is by the same author, also set post-Red Robin. This is Damian and Tim focused, Damian POV, in which Damian sees Bruce's contingency plans for him and the rest of the family, and with nobody else to turn to, runs for Tim. Canon divergent in the way Bruce doesn't have a contingency for his children, neither does Tim for his team, or them for him, but it kinda makes sense in this setting. Their interactions are amazing here, and seems so real.
In this, Tim gets a tonsillectomy. An elaboration in the form of a long fic. A must-read, I feel. It's funny and has so many feels and such good characterization.
!!! Can't believe I almost forgot about this one! Tim is Bruce's assistant, not son, and never became a vigilante. He's incredibly overworked, but no less dedicated to the Waynes. It's heartwrenching and sweet and funny and—words can't do it justice. It's a must read. The Al Ghuls make a cameo but Tim knows how to deal with them. Tim's deeply sad but next to nobody knows and those that do just accept it (including him). Kon is the MVP. Cass. Damian and Tim have an odd bond built of mutual respect and disdain for everyone around them. Luthor tries to recruit Tim every year and fails.
This is funny and amazing—Tim lands in a universe where he's technically considered a drug addict, since coffee is a drug and in the regular universe everyone drinks it.
The YJ fic Ever. I've recced this at least three times, and I will continue to. It's amazing characterization all around—both YJ and batfam—and genuinely is so fun. I love everyone in this. When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.
This is Tim & Damian—Tim gets his overprotective big brother moment :) love love LOVE the way everyone is written here.
This is short and hilarious—Tim has amnesia after a head wound (can only remember back to his YJ days) and tries to bullshit his way out of anyone noticing. He might have succeeded if not for Cass.
This is a time loop fic, switching POVs. Tim's stuck in a time loop in which Jason always dies. The loop before the one this was set in, he accidentally kills Damian out of stress and too-fast reflexes. He breaks down when he sees Damian again, the whole thing unravels, and they resolve to help him out of it.
THIS SERIES MAKES ME FERAL. Jack, Tim and sometimes Dana, set when Jack made Tim quit from Robin. Horror-type elements and beautifully poetic, but centered around Jack's POV of the son he realizes he doesn't know, and him realizing he may be a shit dad. Dana's the best stepmom ever, and Tim's far nicer to her than he is Jack. This is the first work, in which Jack tries and fails to understand this Tim, and realizes that this Tim is Robin, not Tim. This is the second (and last) work in the series, in which Tim hasn't fully quit the lifestyle even though he's not going out as Robin, but Jack has no proof he hasn't. Just a hunch and a few odd occurrences that us, the readers, who are familiar with Tim's hero life will find obvious, but Jack does not. Dana makes Tim happier, more Tim than Tim-Robin, than Jack does, and Jack hates it. Near the end, he starts calling Tim Robin, not Tim. I LOVE it. Even if you hate Jack (like I do) you need to read this, for the Tim characterization if nothing else. Outsider POV, except he shouldn't be an outsider. But he is.
This is so fucking funny. Tim gets a matching tattoo with Kon, and hides it from Bruce. When Bruce—and the rest of his family—find out, all goes to hell.
Remember when I said the Jack and Tim series was only slightly horror? This is horror. Bruce's got a habit of picking up monsters, and this one is about Tim. If you're sensitive to horror, please read the tags and maybe avoid it, because this is delightful but not for everyone.
In this, Tim becomes an unintentional sugar daddy to the caped community. It's a bit iffy in some places, but hilarious.
This is Dick and Tim (surprised it took me this long to rec one with them as the main focus tbh) and it's Dick checking up on his little brother. Pure fluff, and genuinely amazing.
This is Tim & Bruce but also Tim & Tam in some places. Bruce forgets Tim is the majority shareholder for WE and is thus invited to shareholder meetings, Tim finds this very amusing and is generally a menace. You can FEEL the teenager in this Tim. Amazing.
Tim's de-aged to a kid in this, and re-meets his family. Fluff and feels ensue.
This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce isn't prepared for his newest Robin's neuroses.
This has Tim & Cassie meeting at an archaeologist event as kids and having to fight a monster thing :) it's cute
GODDD this fic? This fic ruined me. Beautiful Tim characterization, a gorgeous look at Bruce and how much he fucks up despite caring, and Dick being a stressed but amazing big brother with gorgeous writing. I love their brotherly affections here, and Tim's weird neuroses being shown here. Tim & Bruce is how it starts, and it's very much centered around their relationship, but it tapers off into Dick & Tim, which I'm not complaining about. Kon (and Bart!) makes a cameo and is an amazing friend. Can't rec this enough. If you read none of the other fics, please read this one.
This is Dick and Tim again. Dick forces Tim to go undercover with him to an Elvis convention in a thinly veiled attempt to spend time with the brother who he doesn't think knows how much he loves him. It's set in Tim's POV, though, so until Dick says this, Tim doesn't know. Hilarious and short.
This is Dick and Tim (who's surprised? Nobody) where Dick goes to Robin!Tim's science fair because Tim mentioned it and well, nobody else was going. Short and sweet.
This deals with the batfam finding out about the shitshow that was Tim's BruceQuest. If you're a stickler for canon I'd recommend you skip this one, but if not, it's a great read.
This is Dick and Tim again, and it's amazing. Tim's alone on Christmas Eve. Dick finds out, and does something about it. It's Robin!Tim, so this is Dick, Babs and Tim. This author is amazing at writing their interactions, plus inside Dick's head is a tricky place to write and they nail it perfectly. Mostly Dick & Tim, but since he invites Tim to Babs' holiday party, Babs makes a good number of cameos.
This is Tim talking a jumper off the ledge while Damian watches. Then they talk about it. Tim from Damian's POV is always interesting, but this especially is amazing.
This is a core four fic, Tim's POV! Pure humor. Tim finds a dildo in the dishwasher and he drags them for a team meeting so he can sus out whose it is.
I've recced this before, I think, but I'll do it again. Red Robin canon divergence fic in which Bruce is actually dead, and Tim calls Dick to tell him he thinks he may have been wrong. Dick's POV, short, but the emotion in this is outstanding.
In this fic, Damian has trouble with the transition from Dick's Batman to Bruce's Batman. Tim, who's also had both, is surprisingly helpful. This has so many Tim and Damian feels that I'm literally bursting at the seams. Melancholy, camaraderie, and all the good stuff. Damian's POV, and since he sucks at so much as guessing at what's going on in Tim's head, it's all the more great.
This is Dick and Tim, a soft Christmastime fic.
This is Bruce and Tim. Bruce and Tim have a sort-of game that started when Tim was thirteen. Initially, it was Tim stealing sips (or occasionally whole mugs) of Bruce’s coffee, back when he was too young for Alfred to allow him to drink it. Now, though, Bruce is getting his own back, and steals Tim’s coffee when he can. Sweet and fluffy.
Here, Tim gets a headwound and only remembers back to his Robin days, and forgets to be awkward around Dick and Damian. Tugs at the heartstrings. Dick's reminded of how much he misses this Tim.
This is really funny. Remember that time during the YJ days where the adult heroes were de-aged and the kid ones grew to be adults? Tim didn't reach six foot. In this, he's mocked ruthlessly for it.
Here, Tim goes to high school again after dropping out :) it's core four and hilarious
In this, Tim accidentally kills his dad in self defense—or rather, thinks he does, Jack's still alive but he doesn't know that until Dick shows up—and scrambles to call Dick. He calls Jason instead. Dick eventually gets called and shows up, and the brotherly feels in this are amazing. Tim's in shock for a good portion of it, and it's his POV, so you've got to piece some stuff together. Bad dad Jack, as in worse than canon bad dad Jack. Tugs on the heartstrings, and have I said I love Dick in this? Because I do. Bruce shows up near the end, and to everyone's surprise, doesn't absolutely fuck things up and/or fail as a parent.
Here, Tim is sick and alone. Dick, after not hearing from Tim at all for three days, goes to his apartment, finds him sick, and takes care of him. Eventually he gets dragged to the Manor for some actual r&r. It's sweet, and this writer has an amazing way with words and an intriguing flow.
In this, Bruce knows Tim. They have a routine, have habits, they know each other. This is so so touching, and I love it so much.
Here, Tim and Steph give Bruce a headache. It's amazing.
I..can't even begin to describe this. Bruce is fresh from the timeline, and this is a sort of introspection/character study type thing about him and Tim and how Tim's changed. Mostly, though? Mostly, Bruce just gives his son a hug.
Here, Kon is Tim's work husband. Bruce suffers. Pure fluff and humor, with a touch of feels.
Here, Bruce takes Tim to get his wisdom teeth out. They're both worried, but together, they're alright. Tim cries while doped up on the drugs. He cries a lot.
Here, 90's!Tim Drake wakes up in his Red Robin body. Exhausted from a YJ mission, he chooses to focus on getting through a normal day so as not to disrupt things for his future self. But, y'know, his way. Hilarious and so in-character, if exaggerated for comedy.
This is Tim and Damian—Damian gets hit with truth serum on patrol, and a pissed off Tim has to come and get him. Damian resolves to not tell Tim he's been hit with truth serum. They get closer as a result. Love their dynamic in this.
This is core four again, but just general teenager superhero chaos. Can't rec it enough
Here, Tim tries to build a LEGO Gotham, but his family just can't leave it—or him—alone. He calls a family meeting to tell them to knock it off, and they do not. Fluff and humor.
Here, Tim has appendicitis and gets his appendix removed. The best mix of fluff, feels, and good old complicated family dynamics ever
In this, Bruce tries to navigate giving affection to his odd son, Tim. Touching and funny.
This is Tim and Damian—Damian crashes on Tim's bed in the Watchtower when injured, Tim finds him. They talk, and maybe bond a bit, even though they'd never admit it.
Here, Bruce hugs Tim. Really nothing else to it.
Another fic where Tim wakes up with amnesia and pretends to know his family so he's not rude. He's found out when he correctly deduces Bruce is his dad, but makes the mistake of calling Bruce dad.
This is Dick and Tim again. Tim gets de-aged into a six-month-old, and Dick takes care of him. Soft and so so sweet.
In this, Tim's trying to work in his apartment when his siblings keep showing up to distract him and get him to take a break. It's sweet of them, if very annoying.
This is Bruce and Tim. Tim's injured and lying in bed, Bruce gets him takeout. Feels fuzzy and just...good. You've got to read it to know what I'm talking about, no summary does it justice.
Here, Damian tries to make amends with Tim. He does it very oddly though, so Tim thinks he has a crush on him, and avoids him all the more for it because ew-gross-ew-ew.
In this, Tim gets his teeth knocked out and grabs Dick as a mediator so he tells Bruce. Short and funny-sweet. You can tell this is in Tim's Robin run, due to all the little hints dropped.
This is Tim and Kon, funny and nonsensical. Tim calls Kon in the early hours of the morning, drunk. Kon thinks he deserves sainthood for this.
In this, Tim has road rage and most of his family find that out in the most hilarious way possible.
Bruce and Tim—a test sort of fic? Interesting, definitely.
This is timkon, Tim has memory loss and is amazed by Kon all over again.
Core four go to a gala :)
This is Dick and Tim, Tim breaks into Dick's house, accidentally interrupts his nap, tries to leave out of guilt, and gets wrangled into hugs. So so soft and so so sweet.
Another de-aged Tim fic, but this time with six year old Tim and Bruce taking care of him. This is so melancholy and...ugh. I love them.
Here, Tim and Dick are thrown into an alternate universe and have to try and get back with no other support system and no way out. They meet this world's version of Bruce and Alfred, though.
CEO Tim, and hates it. He makes that Luthor's problem.
Timkon, in which Tim plans all his dates VIA corkboard and Kon is so attracted to that.
CEO Tim (again), except he's still a teenager and people end up thinking he's a communist. This is short and hilarious all the way through. Also, Bruce is there.
This is The kid!Tim fic ever. Tim, having found a weird hole after a storm, decides to go exploring ignoring the fact that This Is Gotham and They Probably Have Cursed Stuff Down There.Luckily, it was just a cave system that spans the entire Gotham underground. Unluckily, Tim is a very curious child. Tim's a sorta eldritch being at the end?? Amazing, 100 would recommend.
In this, Tim finds out he isn't his parents' biological son. This changes everything. This changes nothing. Can't say anything else without spoiling, but I can't rec it enough.
In this fic, Bruce is back in time in Drake Manor, and meets baby Tim. It's like you're frozen in time, and all that matters is Bruce and his infant not-yet-son.
Here, Kon and Tim date. Tim's a cryptid stalker that refuses to be photographed, Dick is a big brother that loves his little brother, and it's cute.
Sorry it took me so long to compile this list anon, happy reading!
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Cardiac Arrest, CPR, and the Reticent Volcano 🌋🎁
So yesterday I made a very interesting discovery while watching the TTPD (track) lyric vid that led to me having several epiphanies at once. If you watch the vid, you'll notice that for the most part the lyrics are in all caps save for a few lines. Of these lines, one in particular, “like a tattooed Golden Retriever,” caught my attention bc it has 2 capital letters--G and R--that you wouldn't have been able to see if the line was in all caps like the ones just before it. What makes it more interesting is that golden retriever is not a proper noun like a name or title so it shouldn't be capitalized according to English grammar rules.
This led me to search for the TTPD album booklet scans to see if this was also capitalized in the booklet and to see what other words were capitalized. Then after looking at the booklet it hit me--CPR(G)!!! Charlie Puth Retriever Golden. Everyone agreed these lyrics sounded a little odd compared to the rest of her lyrics and the shout out to Charlie Puth seemed kind of random. But now it makes complete sense why she wrote those lyrics. She was trying to draw attention to the capital letters CPR(G) that are repeated throughout the album. In this post I explained that Taylor mentions CPR in So Long, London bc they're all related to each other, they're a family. C=Cassandra=Taylor; P=Peter=her 2nd kid; R=Robin=her 1st kid; G=Gold/Golden=Karlie. If you look at the TTPD tracklist, Cassandra, Peter, and Robin are in the same order as CPR.
Taylor wanted to acknowledge her family in some way on this album and so she represented them w these 4 letters which are likely a stand-in for the Swift-Kloss family crest since I don't believe that showed up on this album. This is the key to deciphering several of the anon messages and understanding why some things are lowercase while other things are capitalized. For example, all of the volcano 🌋anon messages and the last 2 messages from (PR)esent anon 🎁 are lowercase with the exception of the words "Gold" and "Goodbye." This connects these messages to TTPD (track). "Gold" is highlighted like "volcano" to indicate that Miss Gold Rush is going to be a part of the atomic bomb Taylor is getting ready to drop. And the "Goodbye" being capitalized indicates that Karlie is indeed the "neighbor" in this message and in Fortnight as well as "the woman who sits by the window" in Peter that turns out the light/lamp. She is the one who keeps a lit jack-o-lantern 🎃 on the front porch while awaiting Taylor's return home from exile. These things single-handedly prove that 🌋 and present 🎁 anon are indeed legit bc how would a troll have been able to predict these things when The Anthology tracks were surprise dropped at 2am and weren't revealed w the standard edition tracks on Feb 5, and why would a troll even bother w such subtle details?? Plus no lyrics had leaked yet at the time these messages were sent so the only logical answer is that they must've either been sent by Taylor or someone close to her.
Side note: When I first wrote that post analyzing the present 🎁 anon messages, I had thought that the song Robin, and maybe Peter as well, was the gift/present to us kaylors that present 🎁 anon told us to look out for since P's and R's are repeated in the messages. However, I have since figured out that actually the poetry book For now, she slumbers was likely the gift since present 🎁 anon's messages mention the title of the book "for now, she slumbers" and "reticent volcano" which is the author's name as an anagram (see this post). Plus the March 4 message directly quotes the first poem in For now, she slumbers called "Two" ✌️ (If you want to read all the poems in order see this post). I explain in this post that the reason why this poem is the first one in the book is bc it's the key to understanding all the ones that follow and to understanding TTPD. The 2 ✌️ is probably the most important motif in TTPD bc it symbolizes the 2 different versions of Taylor and 2 opposing narratives abt her life that exist. Taylor Swift the brand vs Taylor Swift the person; the boy-crazy maneater that only writes songs abt her ex-boyfriends vs the tortured closeted queer poet that is forced to hide her truth behind metaphors and red herrings. Going back to the CPR of it all, I still believe my initial analysis of the present 🎁 anon messages was correct for the most part since the "reticent volcano" is likely a tell-all memoir that will explain the whole messy story and how and why she kept her family (CPRG) a secret. The purpose of the 🎁 and 🌋 anon messages was to guide us to both the poetry book and to CPR(G) which both foreshadow what her memoir--that she's hinted at w The Manuscript and The Story of Us--is going to be abt.
Now continuing on w the theory, as I mentioned previously, we have Cassandra=Taylor, Peter=her 2nd kid, and Robin=her 1st kid. And if you look at the pg in the booklet w The Manuscript, you'll see that there is a capital G in "Good Samaritan" which completes the CPRG set and is also the only capital G that shows up in this song.
And to tie it all together, if you look at the summary poem/epilogue at the very end, Taylor mentions cardiac arrest. This happens when someone's heart suddenly stops functioning and can be reversed by CPR! "I stopped CPR after all it's no use, the spirit was gone we would never come to." And this connects to You're Losing Me (From the Vault) which is abt the fans not seeing the real her or paying attention to her repeated queer signaling -> "I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore for you, 'cause you're losing me." Taylor has given up trying to get her fans to listen to her (CPR) and has accepted that she may lose a lot of them when she reveals everything (CPRG). She is warning them that they are abt to lose the Taylor that they know, the old Taylor, bc she is going to have to kill her public persona and brand in order to be reborn as the new version of herself and move onto the next chapter of her life.
And to add even more evidence to this theory, CPR is often performed on drowning victims, and where does drowning show up in TTPD? Oh it shows up in The Bolter which just so happens to be sandwiched in between Cassandra, Peter, and Robin! -> "By all accounts, she almost drowned when she was 6 in frigid water...And she liked the way it tastes, taming a bear, making him care, watching him jump then pulling him under...as she was leaving, it felt like breathing/freedom" // "When I was drowning that's when I could finally breathe." Drowning also shows up in Guilty as Sin which I've determined probably represents the acceptance stage of grief so the drowning metaphor checks out (see this post) -> "Drowning in the Blue Nile, he sent me 'Downtown Lights.'" (Also check out this amazing video which explains the Blue Nile and religious connections). This connects to the 8th 🎃 message where Taylor chooses to jump into shark infested waters and sacrifice her image and brand so that her lover doesn't have to. So putting all these pieces together, this means that by giving up on trying to revive her relationship w her fans or to maintain her image (CPR) and by putting her family and her happiness first (CPRG), Taylor will finally be able to be truly free. She is going to let Taylor Swift the brand drown so that she can finally breathe. This connects to The Black Dog where she compares the red herrings/bearding/lavender haze/smokescreen to an old habit like smoking that she's trying to quit -> "6 weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke."
Now w all this context in mind, it makes more sense why Taylor has been emphasizing capital and lowercase letters and the number 4 recently. The hidden word hunt on Apple Music, thanK you aIMee, imgonnagetyouback, her retweets from 4/21/23-4/24/23 which happened in groups of 4, putting 4 letter words in all caps, etc. And now it's clear that "I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault" is most likely referring to her explosive tell-all memoir, the reticent volcano, she's going to publish since 🌋 anon's messages were all in lowercase. "Restful, reticent, restraint" = locked inside a vault. Rep tv and the folklore and evermore vault tracks may also be included in this since these albums are in lowercase as well.
In conclusion, I think it is safe to say now that all of these anons are probably legit. In my opinion, all of these connections provide concrete evidence that these anons do foreshadow things and have ties to Taylor.
#i can't believe we have hardcore proof these anons are all legit now this is crazy#volcano anon#present anon#gaylor#gaylor swift#kaylor#for now she slumbers#poems#cpr#cardiac arrest#cassandra#peter#robin#the bolter#apple music#lover crest#karlie kloss#ttpd (song)#so long london#the manuscript#ttpd epilogue#clean#you're losing me#guilty as sin#pumpkin
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