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14buddy22 · 1 year

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You’re Losing Me

Aaron Hotchner x Female reader WC: 3.7k Warnings: ANGST

Based off the song; You’re Losing Me by Taylor Swift

@ssamorganhotchner (prepare for your heart to break bestie)

Masterlist

You had tried. You really did. You tried to keep your relationship with Aaron alive. You tried to keep it interesting, tried to keep it fun, but it wasn’t that anymore. You could try all you want to make him happy. You’d do whatever he wanted as long as he was happy, even if you sacrificed your happiness.

You were tired, lonely, empty inside. You were tired of being 2nd to him. You knew the implications of his job. He was very upfront about that, even telling you the night you met. He told you his marriage ended because of his job.

You ignored it, because you fell in love with him. You knew that his job made him happy and you learned to be okay with that. You knew that dates would become canceled, you knew you’d show up to family and friend events usually alone, you’d take care of his son more times than not because he was away.

You chose to ignore it. Him and the BAU were like peanut butter and jelly. They worked well together, but anyone else who joined, did not mix into that perfect combination. You wish you had, but you didn’t. Maybe you did for a little bit, but it wouldn’t last forever.

You were tired of always being his “back-up”. You knew it was always the BAU over you, but when would he realize he should start putting you before the BAU. He knew the BAU was the reason his first marriage failed, shouldn’t he consider changing that before his 2nd marriage started?

You found yourself sitting in the sunroom of the house you and Aaron had moved into. It was the perfect size for you, him, and Jack. Even though Jack was older and his toys had turned into more electronics than anything, there had been talks of having kids with Aaron. The perfect single family home that you and him picked to be perfect to raise a few more kids that you and Aaron made.

You loved the sunroom. It was yours and Aaron’s favorite part of the house. You both loved it because of the light that came from it. You know it was called “sunroom” for a reason, but still, it was your favorite place in the house.

But it’s funny how you found yourself sitting in the dark, without Aaron. You didn’t know what to do. You don’t know when it got this bad between you two. You don’t know where it all went wrong. You don’t know how he didn’t see the signs.

Sitting there with your thoughts to yourself, all you could think about is how long you’ve been with Aaron. All you’ve ever wanted to do was to make him happy, even if you sacrificed your own happiness. You’ve always been like that, that never changed, even when you and Aaron started dating.

You were a pathological people pleaser.

It’s been roughly 1278 days since you and Aaron Hotchner became a thing. That’s 3 years and 6 months that you two were dating. Too many “i love yous”, hugs, kisses, late nights, date nights, family adventures, and making memories to count.

You tried to pinpoint the exact moment of where everything went wrong, when you began to sacrifice so much of your happiness that Aaron was taking for granted. He never saw the signs that you were exhausted with your relationship with him. You loved him, but he’s losing you.

You and Aaron had been together for 3 and a half years. You set yourself into a routine that you just went through the motions with him every single day. There was no surprise element. You tried to surprise him with dates, but that was quickly resolved when majority of the time he was still never back from a case or was pulling a graveyard shift getting caught up on paperwork.

You were proud of Aaron. He was a great profiler, yet he never saw the signs. He never saw how you had to put a smile on around him. He didn’t notice the way that you were trying to tell him to take some time off so you and him could go on a weekend getaway because you felt lonely.

You felt like you were the only one in the relationship. 6 months ago is when you started to notice it. You noticed that you and Aaron had been in a routine. It was the same thing everyday. Even with as chaotic as his schedule was, it was still predictable.

He missed the dates you planned with him or the dates he had planned with you.

He missed your family events where you would have wanted him to be there with you.

He missed your friend gatherings where you wanted to show him off, to prove to your friends that they were wrong about him, but he let you down.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Time and time again, Aaron slowly let you down with all the broken promises he left you. Promises of I’ll be home early tonight turned into late nights at the office. Promises of “I’ve made dinner reservations for us tonight at this new restaurant” turned into, “I’m caught up in a case, we’ll go out when I get back”.

Those promises were never made up.

That’s why you were sitting in the room you and Aaron loved, alone. You wanted to go out for a nice dinner tonight, but, from the time it read on the clock, Aaron had forgotten about the reservation you made. You had reminded him this morning. Jack was spending the night at his friends house. You thought back to this morning, making sure you did remind him.

Aaron was drinking his coffee in the sunroom this morning when you decided to make your way to him.

You gave him a kiss and he pulled you into his lap. It was his favorite way to start the day with you. You wanted to break routine and have him stay in bed just a few more minutes but he preferred to be up out of bed.

“Good morning. Any fun plans today?”

“Clean the house, do some laundry. Boring stuff.”

Aaron took another sip of his coffee and as you played with the back of his hair. You decided to bring up the fact that you two had your date night planned for a couple weeks now. You specifically remember telling him to request tonight off.

“Remember, Jack’s at a sleepover tonight, you and I have dinner reservations.”

If you hadn’t known Aaron as well as you did, you would have missed the way he slightly stilled for a second, but you didn’t. You chose to ignore it, you know he couldn’t have forgotten.

“Of course. Jack’s sleeping over at a friends house, you and I are trying that new place tonight. What time?”

“7:30.”

“Right, 7:30. I’ll be home at 7 to pick you up. Okay? After dinner, we’ll come home and I’ll show you just how much I’ve missed you and how much I love you.”

He leaned forward to kiss your neck, slowly sinking his teeth into your skin, sucking what surely would leave a hickey for the tonight. You pulled the hair at the back of his neck away from you, not wanting him to go any further, not wanting him to leave anymore marks on you.

“Aaron. Save that for tonight, otherwise I won’t be able to cover it up.”

As you got up from your spot on his lap, you made your way to start making your breakfast and cleaning up the remmanents of his.

He got up, grabbed his briefcase, walked over to you and kissed you.

“I’ll see you tonight, I love you.”

“Bye, Aaron. Be safe. Love you, too.”

It made you wonder, how can he say he loves you when he doesn’t know you’re dying.

How could he not know this was your last resort to save your relationship. Him knowing that you made reservations but him forgetting. Granted, you still had until tonight to make sure he’d remember, but you were starting to doubt. You two were just a sad song that wouldn’t come back to life any more.

It was now 8:30pm. Not a word from Aaron. No text, no call, nothing. Not even a text from the team. You didn’t like tracking his location. You weren’t insecure, you didn’t think he’d be cheating on you, but you decided to text Penelope, to see if they were on another case.

She had easily become your best friend on the team. Sending a quick text off to her asking if there had been another case, you started to think about breaking the engagement off with Aaron.

You were empathetic. You always give him the benefit of the doubt. But you think he forgot. You know he has to keep everyone else on schedule but you just wanted this once for him to have taken something seriously.

He was the best profiler, yet couldn’t tell if something was wrong in his relationship with someone he’s been “in love with” for 3 and a half years. Someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Was it all a lie?

Penople quickly texted, “Greetings, future Mrs. Hotchner! We are not on a case. Hotch actually sent most of us home early. So I’m surprised he’s not with you? Maybe he’s still in his office?”

That hurt you. If he sent the rest of his team home early. Why wouldn’t he come home early? No text. Nothing. You reminded him about your date. Maybe he knew this relationship was ending and he was just trying to avoid it?

Then you heard the garage door opening and closing. As you stood up, you were met with him staring at you. Silently pleading with you to already forgive him.

But you couldn’t. Not now. Not when you know he sent his team home early and there wasn’t a case. You couldn’t.

He knew he fucked up, royally fucked up. He saw how you looked so beautiful in your form fitting dress. He knew that you hated dressing up all formal, yet you still did it because it always got the best reaction from it.

“I am so sorry.”

“You’re losing me, Aaron.”

Aaron’s heart stilled. He didn’t know if he heard you correctly. You didn’t realize that you barely spoke that. It came out as a whisper. You didn’t know if you had the courage to say it out loud or say it again, but it had to be said.

You were met with silence from him. Why won’t he say anything? You wanted to scream at him, but you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t yell at him. He had a tough job and you just yelling at him wouldn’t work, he didn’t deserve that.

“I’m sorry I forgot about our dinner. I am so sorry. I started looking at this case and I knew it was close to 7 but I thought “it’s only a little case, it won’t take long” and then next thing you know it was 8:30”

“There’s always going to be another case. I just asked this one time that we had gone out for dinner. I made this reservation weeks in advance. I asked you to request this one night off. Aaron, you sent your team home early! You couldn’t even come home early. I just wanted one night with my fiancé. That’s all I wanted.”

Aaron was silent. You felt bad. But, when was it your turn for you to be unhappy? You always pleased everyone, but when could you please yourself? You probably wouldn’t marry yourself either with the way you were a pathological people pleaser.

“Do something, babe! Say something!”

You were still met with silence from him. There weren't many times that Aaron Hotchner was speechless, but this was one that stunned him the most. His fiancé tells him that he’s losing her. The one woman who he needed the most in his life, he was losing her.

“Lose something, Aar. Risk something.”

You were afraid by saying that, he would risk losing you. He was already losing you. You told him that, you already knew that, but you had a glimmer of hope. You thought back to the 3 and a half years and countless happy memories made up of him. The countless “you’re the best thing to happen to me”. You believed it. But was it a lie?

“Choose something. I’ve got nothing to believe unless you’re choosing me.”

Aaron moved towards you and he said, “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“Aaron! I’m sorry doesn’t excuse the way you’ve been acting towards me. I don’t know what else to do. I know I’ve tried given you the world because all I’ve wanted since I’ve met you was to make you happy. But you know what, Aaron? Is it wrong for me to want to be happy? Is it wrong for me to want me to be seen by you?”

You looked at him, tears in your eyes. Your heart was breaking. But, you couldn’t continue to be in a relationship where you didn’t have a pulse anymore. If Aaron thought this relationship was worth saving, he wouldn’t have messed up.

Don’t you deserve someone better? You made the ultimatum. But you had to have known there was a possibility Aaron wouldn’t pick you, and you have to be okay with that. Yes, it’ll hurt if he doesn’t choose you, but in the end, you just wanted him to be happy. If you not being in his life anymore made him happier, then so what?

You were bleeding, not physically, but you were in a constant battle of you v the BAU in Aaron’s life. You were tired of the battle already. You knew making the ultimatum you or essentially the BAU wasn’t fair to Aaron.

But you deserve someone who was going to give you what you deserved. You just wanted to be seen by someone. He was losing you, yet wasn’t fighting hard for it.

“I have loved you since I met you. The last 3 and a half years have been amazing. But if you want me to choose between you or the BAU.”

Your heart shattered. He didn’t have to say the rest to know what he was choosing, and it crushed you. Metaphorically, you didn’t have a pulse anymore, your heart wasn’t going to start again for this relationship.

You slipped your engagement ring off your finger. You carefully placed it down on the kitchen counter. How ironic that the place he proposed to you is the place where you two were breaking up.

“This is for the best. I want you to be happy, Aaron. That’s without being in a relationship with me. I thought I could handle the BAU and you, but, I just can’t Aaron. I deserve to have someone keep their promises or at least make up for them. I deserve to go on dinner dates. I deserve to have a family that I’ve dreamed of having. I know this is what you want. You’ll have the BAU and Jack. You won’t have to worry about dinner dates or dates in general. You’ll just have work and your son. Don’t mess those two things up, Aaron.”

You looked at him. His eyes were filled with tears but he refused to blink. If he blinked, he’d lose all control.

“I’ll stay tonight in the guest room and I’ll talk to Jack when he comes home in the morning, then give me a day or two to pack-up and then I’ll be gone for good.”

You grabbed his hand and then kissed his cheek. There was loss and indecision in the air, but it was for the better, right?

“I gave you my best me’s. My endless empathy. I’ll always love you, Aaron.”

As you walked away from him, you went to your room and cried yourself to sleep. You were upset with yourself for not trying to come up with a better solution. You were upset with him for not trying harder. You were upset because you were losing Jack. The closest thing you had to a family and you lost them both.

Talking to Jack the next morning was hard. Aaron didn’t say a word while you talked to Jack. Jack was upset. You knew it would be rough on him. You’d been in his life for 4 years, now you had to walk away. Leaving Jack was going to be harder than you thought.

“I don’t want you to be mad at your dad. It’s not his fault. If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me.”

Aaron was just looking down at the floor. He didn’t want to see that you were now crying as Jack was hugging you so hard, crying too. He didn’t realize that you were going to take the blame for Jack being upset.

****

It had been a few months since you’re engagement with Aaron ended. You were heart broken. You had to realize that you gave him the ultimatum. This was making him happy, he didn’t have to worry about coming home early to a wife. He didn’t have to worry about being a father to any extra children you and him wanted to have. He only had to worry about himself, Jack, and work. That was it. You pleased him before you could please yourself, even with a broken heart, you realized that he chose and that’s what he wanted. You didn’t force him, he had the opportunity to fix it and he didn’t. It didn’t just go bad that one night a few months ago, there was some part that was the beginning of the end.

Were you able to pinpoint it? No, not exactly. But it got to the point in the relationship right around the 3 year mark where it had been a problem and you didn’t realize it. Aaron knew it was coming too.

Aaron and Jack took the break-up hard. Jack wouldn’t talk much with his father. This was just as much Jack’s loss as it was Aaron’s. Aaron didn’t realize all you did for him. He didn’t realize how much of things you actually took care of.

You did the laundry, you cleaned the house, you made sure Jack cleaned his room and bathroom, you did the yardwork, you made sure the house was always filled with food. Aaron didn’t realize this, but you always bought refillable ink for his pens and always replaced them in his office. He didn’t know it had been you doing that. He thought he just bought a really good brand of pens, but when his pen finally ran out, that’s when Jack told him that when you went shopping with Jack one time, you explained to Jack that his dad loved the type of pens they were and bought refillable ink, always refilling it when you noticed it was low.

It’s true when they say, “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone”. Aaron realized that the hard way, he was determined to get you back. He needed you in his life. You were the fresh air he needed. He loved walking in his home, seeing you in the kitchen or the sunroom, waiting to talk about his day with him. He missed how you were a great mom to his son.

Aaron royally messed up and he needed to get you back. He knew you were still best friends with Garcia, so when he called Penelope asking where you were living, he didn’t miss the stutter in her voice, when she quickly said, “S-sir, I can’t tell you that.”

“Penelope, please.”

Then he heard your voice. “PG, I’m going on my date with that guy who owns the bar! My location’s on, we’re going to the restaurant across from where he works. Love you.”

You were going on a date. You knew the guy wasn’t Aaron, but you wanted to get back out there. You couldn’t sit around and mope.

Aaron hung up the phone and said, “Jack, get in the car. We have to go somewhere.”

As him and his son raced to the car, they both got in and Aaron was driving like a madman. He knew exactly what bar and restaurant you were talking about. It wasn’t the first time that the owner of the bar had been interested in you.

As Aaron saw you standing outside, he pulled his car over, but then he saw the owner reach out his hand and you grabbed it, moving closer to the man. Aaron couldn’t get out now. You wanted to be happy. You deserved to put your happiness in front of someone else’s. Aaron had his chance with you. He didn’t realize that until he saw you now, smiling and twirling in the middle of the sidewalk as there was a live band close by, the man spinning you around.

Aaron was pulled out of his thoughts when Jack said, “Dad, what’s going on?”

Aaron’s heart broke, more than it had when you pulled the engagement ring off your finger, more than it did when you told Jack you were moving out. Aaron’s heart was shattered now. He couldn’t come back from this. You made Aaron happy, sacrificed your happiness for Aaron, that’s the least he could do now. You warned him. You told him that he was losing you. He just didn’t know he had the perfect woman until you were gone.

With a voice barely above a whisper, trying to respond to his son, he said, “I lost her.”

As Aaron drove away, the last thing he saw in his rearview mirror was you smiling, almost like you were looking exactly at his car. He had lost you and he wasn’t getting you back. The hopes of you and him together again were gone. He didn’t understand how he missed the signs, but he did and now he’s paying for it. He lost you and he wasn’t getting you back.

Part 2 (if you want)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner angst #jack hotchner #SAD HOTCH HOURS #Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fic

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ghostfanwriter · 11 months

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💖🧰 Dirty hands pt 3 🧰💖

Part one Part two

💖 Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

🧰 Synopsis: Joel keeps finding reasons to stay in Lincoln. And you worry about the day he leaves, but he makes sure to show you how special this whole thing also is for him.

💖 Features: 🔞, fluffy and domestic Joel, Joel fixing things for her, masturbation (m and f), soft — so soft — (kinda dom) Joel, praise, pet names, quick cumplay (for poor Joel's desperation), sprinkles of angst here and there (I hurt my own feelings sometimes).

🧰 Word count: 9.5k. I'm so no sorry about this.

💖 About this: It took me forever to find this story, but I'm so, so glad it came out how it did. This series is gonna be a bit longer than I planned, but I have some real cool ideias for the next parts. Hope you're in with me ❤️

🧰 Author's note: Life really got in the way of this series, besties, but I came out alive. I'm really happy so many of you are as engaged with this story as I am, I love them so much. I just want a domestic, fluffy, soft Joel for myself 😩🤧

Good reading, besties 🩷🫶🏻

'You're always up with the sun.'

Bill's sentence made Joel sleep with his curtains open that night. Even with all the reasons why his mind told him he shouldn't pursue you, even with the potential death trap he was jumping into.

He couldn't not think about you. He couldn't not want to be with you.

He couldn't treat you like he felt he needed to. Couldn't dismiss you or break your heart. He had to make this experience as good as he could for you. It was only fair.

He would feel horrible if you never wanted to meet anyone else ever again because an old man made you cry.

So even with all the reasons he had to just forget about your and leave Lincoln the next day, he chose to keep his curtains open instead. To let the sun wake him up, so he could see you first thing in the morning.

He remembered the day he arrived, when Bill was showing him his bedroom and he saw you hugging Frank on your bed. Your grumpy and sleepy face, your messy hair, your clothes.

It made him smile again, and this time he allowed himself to. He let the feeling that was blooming inside his chest to make its point, to show him that there was an option outside of the QZ. That maybe he could stay.

Could stay with you.

Sure, making Bill lower his guard shouldn't be easy. But he could work on that; show him that he didn't want anything wrong or inappropriate with you.

That he wanted to take care of you like you deserve. Care for you like you're his.

Have you as his.

As the sunlight filled his room, he woke up and washed his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror, last night memories floating around his mind.

He could almost feel you again, your warmth against his chest, as your body contorted and you made such pretty sounds for him. Then your soft hands stroking him, curiously roaming over his stomach and chest, how good it felt to be so close to someone again.

Not that him and Tess had ever stoped to have sex. They still did it, but not as a way to share anything, not to feel anything. Rather as a way to dismiss the bad feelings they had. They just dumped all the negativity of their lives into one another.

With you he didn't want to release anything. He wanted to gather everything he could from you, to make you feel as good as he could, without thinking about what he'd get from it.

He wanted to know you were happy, satisfied, taken care of.

He shook the thoughts as he felt them placing roots all over his heart, knowing that when the day arrived and he had to leave Lincoln, you'd be the main pebble on his shoe.

Halfway down the stairs he could already smell breakfast being prepared. He had peeked in your room, and, having not found you, he knew you'd probably be the one in the kitchen.

And he was right. As he gets close to the door, he can hear you humming one of the songs you played on the piano the previous night.

The image of himself playing a guitar while you played the piano flashed in his mind again, making his eyes soften as he looks at you.

You're wearing yet another summer dress. One even prettier than the one from the day he arrived.

He swears you look prettier everyday.

You turn around, jumping when you see him watching you from the door frame.

"Oh — God." You gasp with a laugh, almost dropping the pan in your hand.

"Morning." He says, laughing.

"Morning... Joel." You say, your voice small. Suddenly, you can feel your cheeks warm up, and it feels like all the blood in your veins came to them.

You stare at him, remembering the night before. How he touched you — or how he made you touch yourself. How you touched him, how almost ethereal the whole experience felt.

Part of you was afraid to bring it up and learn it was all a dream.

All of you was embarrassed, awkwardly standing with a pan in your hand, staring at him, not knowing how to interact with him after the night before.

You take a sharp breath in when he rushes towards you, getting confused when he walks past you, turning around to find him quickly removing a pan out of the stove.

You put the pan in your hand down at the table and run to the one in his hand, your scrambled eggs burnt at the bottom.

"At least there's more texture to them now." He says with a laugh, and you look up at him, an embarrassed smile on your face. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, I am. Just... Gonna have to switch pans now, and what's gonna be left of them isn't going to be enough for all of us, and this is gonna be horrible to wash, and—" Your rambling is cut by his soft and low whisper.

"Baby." He calls, and you look up, finding his eyes as soft as ever. "Not talking about the eggs." He says while staring into your eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm... Good. Different, in a way. I mean, I don't know how to talk to you, or not make this super awkward." You mutter.

"It's not awkward. Are you... Okay with what happened, or—"

"No, no. I'm fine! It's not like that, no. I... I loved it. I just... I just don't know how to... I don't know it just feels weird." You stutter, feeling like you're embarrassing yourself.

"A good weird, then?" He laughs.

"Yes, a good weird." You agree. "What about you?"

"Long time since I've felt this good, baby. Was just worried about you."

"No, I'm good. No need to worry." You say shyly. "Well, expect my breakfast is ruined." You laugh, and he stares you for a second.

"Ever heard of Chef Boyardee?"

"No." You respond laughing.

"Well, he's gonna save your breakfast. Let me just grab it real quick." He says, putting the pan down and rushing upstairs.

...

He comes back after a minute, two cans in his hands.

"I was afraid Boyardee was your alter ego." You say, reading the name on the can.

"I'd never dare to compare." He says, bringing his hand to his chest in a fake humble gesture.

He opens the cans, and you two start cooking together. He insists to wash the burnt pan, as long as you watch chef Boyardee up close as it heats up in the stove while you make some orange juice.

Bill stops on his tracks when he sees you two in the kitchen. Cooking, making juice, brewing coffee, talking and laughing.

He smiles seeing how happy you are, seeing maybe he didn't made the wrong decision when he let Joel in his house.

"Our baby's growing up. Weird to think about that, right? It was never a thought before." Frank whispers from behind him, hugging him and snuggling his chin on Bill's shoulder.

"She is my baby. And it ain't Joel that's gonna change that." He replies, caressing Frank's forearm.

"She's not ours, Bill. Maybe the day's coming when we need to let her go, make her life." He says.

"Well, she can make her life inside these fences. Definitely not with Jo—" His rant cut by your short lived scream.

"It's not burning!" You defend yourself.

"Not the ravioli!" Joel fake cries, laughing as you desperately stir the ravioli in the pan, smoke coming out of the sauce, almost catching on your face.

Bill walks into the kitchen, his always heavy steps even heavier to announce his presence.

"What happened?" He asks, his eyes wide when he sees you close to the smoke.

"Oh, daddy... Joel's a disaster in the kitchen." You laugh.

"I was just washing the pan, you were supposed to watch the stove!" Joel defends himself, laughing, lifting the pan to show it to you. "If you didn't burn this one we wouldn't be going through all this right now."

You've never seen Joel laughing like this, and happiness looked good on him. You liked how his nose scrunched when he laughed and how tiny his eyes got.

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he allowed himself to goof around, make jokes and just have fun.

"It's your fault! I never want you in the kitchen with me again." You say.

"Oh, you're finishing this?" He mentions the pan in his hand.

"No no no, that was your fault. You clean it." You say, turning back to your dad. "Sorry, daddy. Good morning, are you okay?" You ask, going to Bill and wrapping him in a tight hug that he's eager to correspond.

"Morning, my love." He whispers on top of your head as he squeezes you, his hand holding the back of your head protectively. His suspicious stare watching Joel.

"We're having canned ravioli for breakfast?" Frank asks laughing, slightly grossed out.

"Chef Boyardee." Joel playfully corrects him.

"We were gonna have scrambled eggs, but Joel burned them." You say and Joel laughs in defeat, shooting you a playful look. "So yeah, canned ravioli. Promise I'll cook us something nicer for lunch." You say, hugging Frank and kissing his cheek. "Morning, dad."

...

Your dads sit across from one another. You're across from Joel, your right foot is between his feet and he's running his boots lazily up and down your ankles. You can't stop smiling because of it.

"So, Joel. I was thinking we could start with the east side and work towards the gates?" Bill asks, breaking the comfortable silence — only broken before to compliment Chef Boyardee — that was set while you all ate.

"Sure. Just have some other thing l have to work on before the fence, if that's okay? We're still gonna have plenty of sunlight when I'm done. Should be quick." He says while still chewing, stuffing back his mouth right after he's finished.

"What other thing?" Bill asks, not remembering asking Joel to fix anything else that day.

"She told me about these broken doors on her bathroom cabinet. Said they're loud and don't close properly." He says, looking at you, his feet moving higher on your calves, soothing you.

"Baby, didn't I tell you I'd fix your cabinet?" Bill asks, angry to imagine Joel inside your bathroom, even angrier to imagine you going after someone else for help.

"You did. But you never fixed it. So I asked Joel and he said it should be quick." You shrug, playing along with Joel, his legs caressing yours in a reassuring way.

You didn't even know Joel was gonna fix something in your bathroom, you never told him anything about your cabinets.

Bill grunts, and Frank tries to soothe him with a sympathetic look.

You were the most important thing he had, and he didn't like the idea of you not needing him anymore.

"So, love, your dad and I were wondering, what do you think of a bonfire?" Frank asks, trying to dismiss the topic, and you smile.

"A bonfire?" You ask excited, your gaze going from Frank to Bill, and you catch a glimpse of Joel's smile on your way.

"Well, I have some spare wood, and we're gathering a bunch of things we don't need with all the fixings we're doing." Bill explains, looking at Joel, who nods. "Your dad just wanted to call it a bonfire." Bill finishes, looking at Frank, a fake annoyance in his face while he smiles at his husband.

"And you loved my idea, didn't you, honey?" Frank asks, trying to win his case.

"Oh, it sounds so fun." You giggle, and you can feel Joel squeezing your calves softly.

"A bonfire!" Frank says triumphantly. Eating another spoonful of ravioli. "This is actually really good, Joel!"

"Told you." Joel said laughing.

As soon as you're done eating Frank offers to wash the dishes and you and Joel go upstairs, Bill watching you both with concerned eyes.

...

"When did you see the doors were broken?" You ask when he walks in your room with a chest of tools, following him into your bathroom.

"When, baby?" He asks with a laugh, raising one eyebrow. Like you didn't know he was in your bathroom the night before. Like you don't remember having him in your arms, hoping that one day he'd be yours.

"No, I know when. I just mean exactly when. I never told you about it." You say, sitting on top of your toilet to watch him work.

"When I was looking for a product to clean the sink. This door made a terrible sound." He explains.

You watch as he kneels on the floor and starts unscrewing the door, cleaning and oiling its parts before screwing them back together.

"So, how's life in the QZ?" You ask when he starts working.

"Not much about it, nothing you're missing out on, for sure."

"Then why are you still living there?" You ask and he looks up at you, the crease between his eyebrows and the way his eyes wander around showing you he doesn't have a clear answer for that question.

"Not that simple, baby." He scrunches his nose. "Told your dad, we've got things there that you don't have here. Things we — grunts — need."

You smile seeing his face contort as he has to use more force to unscrew a particularly rusty part. You notice his arms flexing under his denim shirt, how strong his hands look, making his tools seem small in them. How he grunts when he makes a final effort to remove the screw.

Your heartbeat speeds up before you can stop it, and you only notice that he's staring at you when you hear him chuckle.

"And do they just give you those things? My dads say they used to have to work to gain money, and they'd trade money for things they wanted." You ask, trying to dismiss the blood burning your cheeks.

"Wasn't Frank in a QZ for a long time?" He asks.

"He was. But he doesn't like talking about it. Says I don't need to know about it." You respond. Even though Frank was way more laid back than Bill, he also had his ways to guard you from things he thought he needed to. "But I want to know about it." You add, seeing Joel's reluctancy in keep telling you about it.

"We also work there, not for money, but it's still a trade system. We can get food, medicine, parts, clothes. Whatever we need."

"Do you have nice clothes there?" You ask with more excitement than you wished to. You know it's futile, but you sometimes wish you had different clothes to wear. He chuckles before answering.

"I mean..." He mentions himself, and you turn your head.

"I think you look good." You say honestly and he smiles.

"Your clothes are much prettier than the ones there, baby. You're not missing out."

"You like my clothes?" You ask, your voice small.

"Love them. Never saw no one dress like you since this whole thing started." He whispers, sitting back on his heels and watching you with adoring eyes.

You look out the bathroom door, your bedroom door closed. No noise outside.

You bend down, kissing him softly on the lips. His left hand caresses the nape of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

"Wanna help me choose my dress for the bonfire?" You suggest when you break the kiss.

"My honor." He whispers over your lips, giving them a peck and letting you go.

...

You come back inside the bathroom with two dresses, both on their hangers.

"Okay, so we'll go by elimination. What do you think of these?" You ask, holding each dress in a hand. He's kneeled on the floor, fixing the cabinet, but he turns his torso, carefully analyzing the dresses over his shoulder.

"Blue one." He says.

"Yeah. This one's a bit too summery, too sunny." You agree, and he raises his eyebrows, nodding and humming before turning back to the cabinet.

"And what kind of jobs you do there?" You ask Joel while going back to your closet, picking the next option.

"All kinds you don't wanna know about, trust me. There's nothing about that place that's worth knowing, nothing good except those walls." He says.

You come back with the winner dress and another option, sitting on your bathtub's edge.

"Well, not when you're in it. Then there's at least one good thing." You say low with a smile, poking him with your foot, and you can see the shy smile that flashes in his face as he quickly squeezes your calves.

"Tess and I we... Leave the QZ from time to time, which you're not supposed to do, to look for things we can trade for other things. Not always for nice things, but we can always trade them again for something better."

"You're smugglers." Frank says out thin air, startling you. "Which isn't bad, I mean, the best stuff I had at the QZ came from smugglers." He adds seeing Joel's worried expression. "Tess told me about it. Told me about the kind of things you two give to guards. Not anything we need here, but maybe you'd know where to find some things for us?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure. Depending on what it is, it shouldn't be hard to find." Joel says.

"Oh! We were talking about having more fruits, right, dad? Strawberries, watermelons. Think you could find some, Joel?"

"Would have to look around, but it's not impossible." He says, making a mental note of finding you those as soon as he has the chance.

The thought of leaving Lincoln to look for things you want plays in the back of his mind, the scenario making him smile softly while looking at you.

"Speaking of Tess..." Frank interrupts his daydreams. "...she's on the radio. Wants to talk to you, seems important. She asked you to bring a pen and paper with you." He finally says what he came in to say.

Joel looks at you, a deep crease between his eyebrows, despite his overall relaxed expression. If you're really starting to know him, the crease means he's worried.

He gets up with a muted grunt.

"Oh, Joel! Which one?" You ask before he leaves.

He looks back and forth between the dresses, pressing his lips, trying to picture you in both of them. He likes how tight on top the blue one looks like, how flowy it looks on the legs.

"Blue again." He answers with a smile. "Be right back." He says directly to you before turning around, walking out the bathroom and thanking your dad for calling him.

Frank sits by your side, carefully walking around Joel's tools.

"What do you think of the blue one?" You ask him, caressing the dress.

"Hm, thought you wouldn't want my opinion." He says almost bitterly, despite his playful smile.

"Why? You always help me choose my dresses." You say, furrowing your eyebrows, his expression softening.

Deep down he felt the same as Bill.

You always needed them, always looked for them for guidance, advice, help, comfort, love. It hurt to think of you not needing them anymore, of losing you.

"Nothing." He says quietly.

"Are you upset because I asked for Joel's opinion?" You ask, and he realizes just how silly the feeling is. You're just picking a dress.

"Well I... Argh, I am, love. Can't lie to you." He hugs your side, squeezing your head on his chest playfully. "You don't need my help anymore, you're not my baby anymore." He says dramatically, making you laugh.

"Oh, no! I don't love you anymore, dude. Let go of me!" You playfully say, acting like you're trying to get away from him but ultimately snuggling even closer to his chest.

"I love you. I'll always asks for your opinions on my dresses." You laugh.

"Well, to be fair. The blue one is the prettiest between those two." He admits. "How are things between the two of you?"

"Great. He's so nice." You say with a silly smile.

"Can tell you look happier. And so does he. Never seen him laugh like I saw this morning." He says.

You remember his face when he arrived. Serious and suspicious of everything about the town. How you only saw him smile three times that day; when you two met, when you said you were going to bed and when he saw you with Frank.

But as soon as you think about that day your chest tightens.

Tess.

She came with him. For some reason didn't stay. Was she looking for something while he was there, or did she return to the QZ? Was she coming over? She said she and Joel were just friends, but what if they weren't?

You whimper softly, your stomach hurting out of a sudden.

"You okay, love?" Frank asks, pulling away to look at your face.

"Yeah, just... Do you know what Tess wants with Joel?"

"She didn't say, love. Maybe she just wants to know why he didn't go back to the QZ yet."

"Wasn't he going to stay here for a while? To help you and dad?" You ask, confused.

"Well, yes. But she didn't know that. He was supposed to leave yesterday." He said, caressing your arm with his thumb. "But he kept finding reasons to stick around. New things that need fixing, the car's weird noise, now the whole fence. I wonder what — or who — made him want to stay." He squeezes your arm and you smile shyly.

"But why does she care?" You ask, an unexpected annoyance in your voice.

"Darling... Joel and Tess they... They used to be a couple." He says, careful, like he could see his words stabbing you. "She cares about him. She's worried, she doesn't know us, maybe something could've happened to him."

"Do you think he cares about her too?" You know it's a stupid question. Of course he does. It's Joel.

But it hurts to imagine him doing to her the same he did to you. Sharing the same.

Frank gives you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening and his lips falling open, like he's thinking of what to tell you.

"Do you think I'm silly, dad? Do you think he's just gonna leave and never come back?" You ask, thinking about what him and Tess must be talking about.

"I don't know, love. I heard him and dad talk about some of the houses in here." He sighs.

Should he even be telling you that?

'Is he thinking about staying?' You ask yourself, your puppy eyes making Frank kiss your forehead lovingly.

"Only he can tell you that, my dove."

Sometimes you think your dad can read your mind.

You think about what Joel told you.

'We've got things there that you don't have here.'

Could he ever not live in the QZ? Would he ever want that?

"But can I give you an advice?" He asks softly and you nod. You're taking any help you can. "Slow down a bit. Don't think too ahead, don't nourish any hopes or fears about what's gonna happen." He says, looking deeply into your eyes. "Joel has his life outside, you can't forget that. I really, really, my love, hope you don't come out hurt of all of this. And the only way for it not to happen is you being careful. Don't engage in feelings he hasn't displayed to you."

"Don't create expectations then?" You ask, trying to make sense of his words.

"Yes, sweetheart. Feel your feelings, but don't ever run over them. Don't expect what you want to happen to turn out exactly how you wish." He adds. "Like about him staying. Don't expect it but also don't suffer thinking it's impossible before he tells you exactly what he's thinking. Don't put yourself through unnecessary pain."

Before you can say anything else Joel walks back in, a mix of annoyance and worry contorting his face, that softens instantly as his eyes find you.

"Blue one?" He asks with a silly smile and you nod, an even sillier one in your face.

"Blue one."

...

It's hard to follow your dad's advice.

Because it hurts too much to think of not seeing him anymore.

And that's exactly what you do for the rest of the day.

You watch him fix the fences with your dads while you hurt your own feelings, thinking about him leaving, about him with Tess, about him doing to her what he did to you. What you only did with him.

It hurts to think maybe he doesn't care about you the same way you care about him. Because you can't stop thinking about him. You're more attached than you ever thought you'd be to anyone besides your parents.

It hurts to think about him leaving you...

...forgetting about you.

He noticed how quiet you were during dinner — it was quite hard not to. And he found strange just how much he missed you, even though you were right in front of him.

How you didn't make any silly jokes or laughed at the ones your dads made. How you didn't give him your leg when he reached for it under the table, like he did during breakfast. How you wouldn't catch his gaze when he looked at you.

He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger in exactly what happened.

After dinner you kissed your dads goodnight and went straight to bed, no piano, no songs, no anything, despite their protests.

Maybe something happened while he was fixing the fences with Bill. He hadn't seen you since he left your bathroom.

"Is something wrong with her?" He asks your dads as soon as you go upstairs. They both shrug, and Bill can't help but wonder... Why does he even care?

You brush your teeth and lie on your bed, throwing a pitty party for yourself, feeling silly for engaging in such unrealistic expectations.

Joel had his life in the QZ...

...with Tess.

He wouldn't just give everything up for you, to stay in Lincoln.

It's hard to follow what Frank told you, to not feel bad, to ignore the discomfort in your stomach everytime you thought about Joel.

You quiet your thoughts when he opens your bedroom door — that you never seem to lock anymore —, finding you laying on your bed, almost curled in a ball, your back facing the door. Trying to keep your eyes dry.

He walks in carefully to not startle you, going around the bed to see if you're awake.

Your eyes start watering as soon as you see him.

"Hey, baby." He says softly, squatting next to you, keeping his distance. "What happened?" He didn't need you to say you weren't okay, he already knew that. He just needed to know what got you like that.

You don't say anything, aware that any words you said would make you cry.

"Can I sit with you?" He whispers, still not touching you.

You nod, moving your hips back to give him room to sit. You knew that no matter how much you tried to stay away, you'd feel him pulling you close, like there's a magnetic field between you two.

He sits down in front of your stomach and you pull your thighs closer to his back, keeping him close to you.

He moves his hand slowly, giving you time to push him away, gently touching your hair, pulling it behind your ear.

"Do you wanna talk?" He asks, his voice softer than ever.

"Do you?"

"I want to do whatever you want, baby." He whispers, caressing your hair, almost making you sleepy.

"I want you to stay with me."

"I can stay until you fall asleep. But I can't sleep here with you." He responds.

Not the stay you were thinking about. But it works for now, and you're glad he didn't pick up on it.

"Can you lie with me?" You ask shyly.

You weren't mad at him. You were just afraid to get too attached — even more than you already were, and to suffer too much when he left.

But you can't deny yourself what you're craving.

"Anything you want, baby." He leans down to press a kiss on your temple, bringing his hand to your hips, squeezing you gently and turning you around, your back facing him.

"Is this okay?" He asks, laying down sideways behind you, staying away and not touching you.

"Uhum."

He supports himself on his elbow and strokes your hair gently.

"Are you cold?" He asks, touching your cold arm, and you nod. He sits up and grabs your blanket by the end of your bed, covering you with it and supporting himself back on his elbow.

He's far from you, and you scoot back closer to him, pulling the blanket that's pooling between you two over him.

"Wearing my shoes, baby." He says, afraid of getting your blanket dirty. He kicks his boots away and and moves his body closer to yours.

Dropping his head on the pillow behind you, he slides his left arm underneath your head, letting you use it as a pillow. He hugs you and curl his legs, curling yours along. Fully spooning you.

In a way it reminded you of when you were a child and your dads would let you sleep in between them during a thunderstorm. How the same feeling of calm and safety takes over you.

You do your best to snuggle into him and find comfort in the new position, eventually relaxing into his arms as his right hand comes underneath your face, cupping your left cheek, pillowing it. You snuggle your face on his hand, kissing his palm gently.

You indulge in the intimacy you two are sharing. In how warm you got because of him, how his calloused hand feels under your cheek, how your bodies seem to fit in perfectly within one another.

How you can subtly feel his heartbeat against your back, how you try to match your breathing with his, enjoying the way his chest raises and falls behind you. How his smell invades your nose, how his hot breath sends chills down your spine, how his strong arms hold you so tight.

You stay tangled for a while before you gather the courage to talk to him.

"Joel?" You ask gently and he hums in response. "Can I ask you something... about Tess?" You almost whisper, afraid of ruining everything.

"Sure, baby. What about her?" He responds, his thumb caressing the skin under your eye.

"Are you two dating?" You ask but regret instantly as you feel him chuckle behind you.

He gives your face a light squeeze before turning it for you to look at him. You feel vulnerable with him being so overpowering, moving you so effortlessly, his body engulfing yours so nicely...

"Is it because she called me earlier?" He asks, a smile on his face as he brings you back to reality. You only nod, not sustaining his gaze anymore. "Do you think I'd be here with you if we were together? Think I'd do this to her? To you? Lie to you like that?"

"I don't know." You whisper, hating how weak your voice sounds, barely making its way out of your mouth.

"Baby, Tess and I we... We were a couple, haven't been for a long while now." He explains, sincerity spread all over his face.

"Did you do to her what we did last night?" You ask, your stomach turning to imagine him doing that to someone else.

Realistically, you knew he had. But it still hurt to think about it.

"No, baby. Not what we did yesterday. That I never did to nobody." He answers and you look away from his soft eyes. "I'm not lying." He squeezes your cheek gently, making you look back at him. "Yesterday it was all about you, making you feel good. And sex with Tess was about releasing frustrations, sadness, anger. Distracting myself." He explains. "I'd never dump those negative feelings on you. I wanna make you feel good, wanna see and hear you feel good. I loved doing it, but it wasn't about me. It was all about you." He says softly, his eyes wandering from your eyes to your lips.

It feels like you're melting in his arms. His words disarming you entirely, making you want to feel him again. To share that again.

"Can you kiss me?" You ask, hope coating your request.

"Anything you want, angel." He whispers as he lowers himself, gently connecting his lips to yours.

The tingling of his beard on your face makes you lean in further onto him, pulling him lower on top of you as you lie back down.

You open your mouth, kissing his lower lip, making him deepen the kiss, rolling his tongue around yours, and gently grabbing a fistful of your hair.

His tongue tangling with yours make your insides burn with need, and your hips instinctively roll against his crotch, making you moan when you feel his still soft cock inside his pants. His hand comes from your hair to your waist, holding you still.

"Baby." His voice sound deep and aroused as he breaks the kiss, softly panting as he talks to you. "We don't have to do anything. We can go slow, slower than we're going. I'd love to just lie down with you tonight." He stares softly at you, his thumb caressing your belly.

"I want you, Joel. Want to feel you before you leave." You say, cursing at yourself when you realize what you've just said.

"Not going anywhere, baby." He promises, furrowing his brows before kissing you again, deeper and more passionately, making you moan into his mouth, his hand exploring your curves and your stomach, its roughness erupting chills on its tracks.

You can't stop your hand from reaching for him when he grabs one of your breasts, gently massaging it through your shirt. He pulls back when you touch his crotch.

"You first, angel." He says, removing your hand and kissing your neck. Then your shoulder, your collarbone. His hand softly pulls on the hem your shirt.

"Can I?" You respond by removing it, laying back down, your back still facing him, your hand reaching back for his hair, running your fingers through it.

His hand finds your breasts again, kneading them before he lifts himself behind you, sliding underneath your right arm to place ghostly kisses first around them, circling his way closer to your nipple, looking into your eyes for any reluctancy before he moves any further.

Not finding any and feeling how you pulled gently on his curls, he licks around your nipple once, still looking into your eyes. When you moan, he takes it in his mouth, humming at its softness. You whimper at how his beard scratches your skin.

The new and soft sensation of his tongue on you makes your clit burn between your legs, that you're pressing against one another, looking for some release for the almost painful need you're feeling.

He squeezes your hips, gently at first, but more and more firmly as you pull on his hair, his lips sucking tightly around your nipple, opening and closing around it, like he's trying to drink from it.

"More, Joel. Please." You whimper, your head spinning as you drown in simultaneous under and over stimulation.

"Want me to touch you, baby? Wanna feel my fingers on you?" He asks, letting go of your nipple, his voice breathy and raspy, and you whimper in response. "Would love to feel you, baby. Know you're so wet for me already. Wanna make you cum on my fingers." He says while tracing kisses from your breast to the back of your shoulder.

"Yes, please. Yes, Joel." You say eagerly, desperately almost. Making him laugh amusedly and spread your legs, pulling your right one over his hips. Slowly running his hand from your hip to your mount, the mere warmth of his hand making you grind against it.

"So desperate, baby. Gonna take my time, make you feel so good." He pants on your neck, lowering his hand even more, drawing soft circles around your clothed clit, earning weak whimpers and moans from you. "Let's take this off." He says, pulling on your pijama shorts, and you lift your hips to help him.

He pulls your leg back over his hips and caresses you through your panties for a bit, running his middle and index fingers up and down your folds, teasing at your entrance, softly pressing on it.

He palms your folds, gently squeezing your pussy. "So good, baby." He praises, his lips never leaving your neck. He runs his fingers of the elastic of your panties, playing with it. "Is this okay?" He asks, his fingers carefully sliding underneath them.

Your moan is enough of a green light.

His rough fingers make their way under your underwear, ghosting over your mount, then your folds. Finally finding the crease between them, gently touching your clit before spreading your folds, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

"Dripping already, baby. We haven't even started yet." He teases, nibbling at your ear and making you giggle. He laughs behind you. "Goddammit, baby, I..."

He stops himself with a grunt before he says too much, before he lets out something he's been pondering on, a feeling he's not managing to prune as it grows roots inside him.

He circles your clit again, just his middle finger rolling lazily over it. He uncovers it from the skin on top of it, making your whole core burn for him, the rough textured of his fingers on such a sensitive spot making you pull away with a whine.

"Sorry, baby. Too much?" He asks, kissing your shoulder, and you whimper in response, getting close to him again. "It's okay. We won't ever do anything that doesn't feel good."

He goes to your entrance and draws circles over it, slowly pushing the tip of his middle finger inside you.

"This okay?" Comes out in a whisper on your neck.

You love how he's always making sure you're enjoying what he's doing. Always checking in on you.

"More, Joel." You manage to put out.

"Okay, but just one, alright? We can work on two later." He says and you nod. You just need something from him.

He french kisses and bites on your shoulder while he pushes in, your walls engulfing him. You moan when his finger goes fully inside you.

It's so much bigger than yours.

He groans as he spreads his palm over your pussy, squeezing it quickly before gently thrusting his finger in and out of you.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight around my finger." His breath fans on your neck, and you have to swallow back a loud moan when he curls his finger, just like he taught you last time, hitting an even deeper spot than you managed to.

"Shh, real quiet, angel." His thumb finds your clit and he caresses it lazily, his finger moving slowly against your walls, your hips moving to try and ease the burn.

You feel his erection against your ass and your hand looks for him, grabbing him through his pants, earning a grunt, moaning when you feel how hard he is.

"Wanna feel you cum like this, can you try that for me, baby?" He asks while he fasten his movements, each thrust deeper and faster, each curl tighter and each circle around your clit more desperate. His hips bumping against your hand while you try to work him.

"Joel." You moan softly when your body starts contorting around him, your core burning as your hips move against his hand. "Please, let me do it." You plead, struggling to open his belt with just one hand.

"Fuck." He curses while he lets go of you, desperately opening his belt and freeing himself. He helps you remove your panties before carefully pulling you back in his arms, spooning you. His left arm underneath your head as his right arm pulls your leg over his hips again, his cock pressing against your ass, his hips grinding against you.

You stroke him slowly, spreading his precum all over his length, giving a special attention to his tip.

Just like he taught you. His grunts a sign you've learned just right.

His hands return their work, one on your pussy while the other alternates between caressing your hair and kneading your breasts, and you can feel his strong arm contracting underneath your face as he moves.

He notices your hand around him and your breathing both getting more erratic, an almost painful look in your face.

"Relax, cum for me, baby, let me feel you. I'm right here, I've got you, just let it come." He coos, and you twist your hand around him, making him thrust into it.

Being so close, so tangled, so vulnerable with him overtakes you, and your orgasm builds like a wave, slow and steady before crashing against your core, making you forget everything that wasn't Joel.

His smell, his warmth, his hot breath on your neck, his sounds, his rough fingers, his hardness.

You bite his arm that's under your head in an attempt to quiet yourself as he engulfs you with it, holding you tight and close to him, whispering praises and curses on your ear, thrusting slower and deeper into your hand.

"There we go. Feels so good around my finger, baby." He coos while you contort under his embrace.

He grunts as you probably squeeze his cock a bit too hard while you cum.

"Even prettier like this, my pretty girl." He praises as he pulls out of you, your arousal leaking all over your leg and butt.

"Making such a pretty mess for me, baby, look at this. You're gonna feel so good around me, angel." He thrusts into your hand again and shows you his finger, glistening and wrinkled from being inside you for so long, coated in your juices.

He sucks on it, furrowing his brows and humming at your taste, an amused smile on his face. His hips buck forward while he laughs, looking adoringly down at you.

"Taste so, so good, my baby, goddammit." He pants, and you wanna see him do it again, so you let go of him and gather some of your juices, bringing your fingers to his mouth.

He's quick to suck around them, rolling his tongue around your fingers and giving you a peck on the lips.

He thrusts forward again and his cock slides against your folds, making you both moan. "Hmm. Thank you, angel." He smiles on your lips, spraying kisses on your collarbone and your throat, his hips moving at a slow pace, savoring how you feel against his cock.

"So soft. So wet for me." He praises, hugging you, squeezing your waist and your breasts, moving his hips with more intent. Your belly clenching when his tip brushes against your sensitive clit.

"You like this, baby? Does it feel good? Feels real good to me." He breathes on your hair, his voice deep and raspy.

His right hand comes back underneath your face, and you snuggle against it, weakly bitting his palm and indulging on its texture against your skin.

It all feels amazing. The contrast between his rough, calloused hands and his soft, wet and warm cock rubbing against your pussy making you see stars. He feels so, so good.

"Feels so good, Joel." You moan.

"Close your legs real tight for me then, baby." He instructs and you do, pressing your thighs together, feeling his cock pulse between your legs. "There you go, good girl. Making me feel so good, baby." He says as he picks up his pace.

He fucks your folds for a while, grunting and moaning behind you as his cock opens it's way through them, spreading them and brushing his tip against your clit. The way his strong arms keep you close to him make you start rolling your hips instinctively against his cock.

He changes his pace to meet your hips, setting a passionate and deep rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of your bodies pleasing one another when you move just slightly harder.

When you start to really enjoy yourself he suddenly stops, laying you on your back and climbing on top of you. He spreads your legs, making room for his broad frames between them.

He looks so big, so strong above you. You run your hands on his arms, frustrated that he's still fully clothed while you're so exposed for him.

Not that he makes you feel bad like this. No... It feels actually strangely good to be fully naked under a fully clothed Joel Miller.

He notices you mesmerized by him and just stand above you, kneeled between your legs, admiring your own exposed body.

To think that he did everything he's done to you without having to remove a single piece of his clothing is impressive.

But you need more, you want to see him, to feel his skin against yours. If feeling his hands and his mouth feels good, you know you're gonna be lost when you feel his bare chest and stomach burning your skin.

You undo the first button on his flannel, and he laughs.

"You look so sweet, so pretty, my baby." He praises, fixing your hair and leaning down to kiss first your cheek — right besides your nose, under your eye — , then another one on your lips. A sweet and lovingly kiss. You use the proximity to finish undoing his flannel, moaning frustrated when you notice the shirt underneath it.

You pull on it's hem, and thankfully he doesn't protest, just standing on his knees and letting you remove it.

You moan when you lie back down and look at him. He wonders if he's wrong when he sees the way you look at him.

As he got older and older people seemed to want to see his naked figure less and less. And to have you looking at him like that... Set a whole new branch of roots inside his heart.

You run your hands up his sides and his chest, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of your warm and soft hands. It's been a long, long time since he felt like this. You cup his cheeks and he lowers himself on top of you.

Having him on top of you is everything you hoped it'd be.

He's soft, warm and heavy.

So deliciously heavy.

You moan at the feeling and he holds himself higher, afraid to hurt you, but you pull him back, even lower, needing his weight to crush you.

You can't even breath properly, and you love it.

You wrap your arms around him, running your hands on his back and squeezing his shoulder blades. He does the same, his arms snaking underneath you, holding you like he was afraid you could ever think of going away from him.

If it was up to you, you'd never leave this bed again, this position, this man. Every kiss he places on your neck makes you roll your hips and squeeze him between your thighs.

He lifts himself a little and guides his cock between your folds again, spreading them apart and thrusting through them, pressing his cock against you with his thumb.

"Fuck." He pants as he slides his tip over your entrance. "Can't wait to be inside you, baby. Never gonna leave you again." He says, biting your jaw softly.

The promise makes its way to your heart, the thought of belonging to him, being with him, taking care of him and being taken care of consumes you, making you roll your hips on him.

"Please Joel. I'm ready, I want to." You plead, holding his arms.

He laughs.

"No, baby. You may be, but she's not. Look at this." He says as he presses his tip on your entrance, making you clench instinctively at the invasion and whine in pain. "You need to learn how to relax for me. Need to get used to being close to me like this. I need you to be sure about it." He says as he kisses your hand that's squeezing his shoulder.

"I am, I want you." You say, feeling as he slides the very tip of his tip inside you, grunting at how tight you feel around him. He thrusts slowly, just the tip going in and out of you.

And you have to give it to him... It feels like a lot. Even just his tip requires a considerable stretch, and the thought of having him almost carving your insides to make room for himself makes you clench around him.

"Shit — grunts — fuck, baby. See? She needs more time, I don't wanna hurt you." He says as he lowers himself to press a sweet kiss on your cheek, right besides your nose, pulling his tip out of you and sliding his cock through your folds again.

You moan when you feel his now much wetter tip brush against your clit.

He pulls your left leg up, bringing your knee close to your chest, caressing your thighs, not stoping his movements. You whimper as his weight sinks you down onto the mattress, and you wrap your arms around him, digging your nails on his shoulders, pulling away when he grunts from it.

"Sorry." You moan, afraid you've hurt him.

"No, baby. C'mon, squeeze me, it means you're liking it." He reassures you, thrusting slower and harder, pressing his hips deeper on top of you and bringing your other leg up.

"I wanna see it, Joel." You breath, holding firmly into his shoulders, your brows furrowed as you push him away, looking down where your bodies are connected.

"Yeah, baby? I love seeing it too. You look so pretty all spread for me like this, all ready and wet for me." He pants, touching his forehead to yours, looking down.

His hips get more erratic with every thrust, his hands supporting him up and squeezing you as he lowers himself on top of you again.

"Gonna make me cum, baby. But I wanna see you do it again, think you can do it for me?" He asks, his voice low.

"Yes." You moan, focusing on how good he feels rubbing against your core.

"There you are, such a good girl for me." He praises, kissing your neck, fastening his movements even more. "Gonna feel so good cumming under me, with my cock for the very first time, baby. Give it to me, c'mon." He says, moving your hair away from your face and cupping your cheeks.

The constant and relentless pace he sets along with his praises becomes too overwhelming, and you bite his shoulder to not scream when you cum, clenching and convulsing around air. Crying out in pleasure, droll dripping down his shoulder, tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know it feels so good, doesn't it?" He coos.

His hand that was on your cheek now supports your head up against him, caressing your hair softly, soothing you.

"Goddammit, baby. Can feel you pulsing on me." He says, staring down, watching himself slide through your dripping folds.

You only moan in response, letting go of his shoulder and kissing the deep mark your teeth left on it.

"Gonna cum for you, baby. You did so well for me, such a good — grunts — fucking girl. My... All mine." He stutters, not being able to form comprehensive sentences anymore. "Can't do it like this, no. Fucking can't." He pants before dropping to your side, stroking himself deep and fast.

You watch his strong torso as it raises and falls heavily, curses and senseless words falling from his lips.

But when he calls you... By your name, a breathy and passionate moan... You can't help it.

You reach for him, wrapping your hand around him.

"Fuck, just like last time, baby." He instructs before running his fingers through your hair and caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Such a pretty girl. I'm so fucking — grunts — lucky, angel."

His praise makes you fasten your movements, twisting your wrist around him and rolling your hand around his tip.

"Joel?" You call and he groans in response, looking at you. "Can I put it in my mouth this time?" You ask, using that goddamn voice to try and convince him.

"Jesus — no, baby. No mouth." He pants, fighting the words as they leave his mouth.

God, he loves how much you want to suck his cock. He fucking loves it.

You tighten your grip when you feel him pulse, craving more of the sensation.

"Shit — fuck. Like that, baby. Gonna make me cum for you."

When you feel him twitch and you see the first stream of cum spurt out his his tip...

...you forget everything he told you. You notice his eyes closed shut and lower yourself, opening your mouth in front of his tip, drawing a circle around his tip with your tongue.

He doesn't taste as bad as you remembered.

His hips immediately buck into your face, a gutural sound leaving his throat.

"I said no — grunts — fucking mouth, baby. Goddammit." He says, his hips thrusting up, his hand fisting your hair, but not pulling you away.

You keep licking around his tip while he cums, leaking into your mouth and your hand. You don't keep anything in your mouth, letting it all fall down on your hand and his crotch.

You look up at him and find his eyes on you. Instead of feeling shy, though, you smile, sucking around his tip for the first time, and he spurts one last time inside your mouth with a grunt.

"Fuck, baby. Felt so fucking good." He says when you feel him start softening in your hand. He fixes your hair lazily while you lick your lips, drinking what was dripping down your chin. "Doesn't taste gross anymore?" He teases, seeing how focused you are in drinking every drop of him that's on your face.

"Tastes better directly from you." You lie, only taking it into your mouth because you like how he looks at you when you do so, holding back a bitter expression when you taste more and more of his cum.

Although you have to admit... It does taste better than last time.

"Come up here, angel." He calls, pulling you on top of his chest. "You okay?" He asks while looking deep into your eyes.

You nod. Okay is nothing compared to how you feel right now.

You feel like you're floating, like you're in a transe, like jelly.

You kiss his chest, snuggling your face on him.

"Are you feeling better?" He whispers on top of your head, his hot breath on your hair.

"I feel so good, Joel."

"You do? And you're not gonna thank me, baby? I thought you had better manners than that." He teases, laughing softly underneath you, your body going up and down along with his chest.

"Thank you, Joel. Thank you too." You lightly tap his softening cock.

He laughs. There's the sillyness he missed during dinner.

The playfulness he knows he'll miss the most when he leaves you.

If he ever manages to leave you.

"Our honor, baby." He squeezes you tighter and kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around him, feeling sleepy already.

When he feels you soften on top of him and your breathing get softer, he softly scratches your head.

"Hey, baby. Can't sleep like this. Gotta clean you up." He whispers, rolling you on the bed, on your back, and kissing your pout with a smile before going to your bathroom.

You admire his naked figure. His strong back, his broad — so broad — shoulders, his strong legs. He looks like a sculpture, like a God, almost.

And you'd be lying if you said you couldn't describe what you feel for him as almost devotion.

Your blasphemies are cut when he walks back in, already clean, with a cloth in hands. He climbs on top of the bed and spread your legs, caressing your thighs.

"So pretty." He praises when he cleans you, softly to not hurt you. Laughing when the cloth touches your clit and your body jerks up.

He finishes and kisses your belly, right above your mount, going lower and pressing a kiss on your folds.

"Joel." You moan.

"Sorry, baby. Don't wanna make a mess again." He teases you, lifting himself.

"Can you do it? Put your mouth on her?" You ask, a new spark of arousal hitting you at the thought of his warm mouth on you.

"Can't wait to, baby. But not today. No. Now the only thing you're gonna do is sleep." He puts his pants and his shirt back on before grabbing your panties and your shirt.

He dresses you back up and lie down behind you, spooning you again, his right hand coming underneath your cheek, pillowing it.

You moan at how good it feels to be so close to him. At how vulnerable you can be with him, knowing he won't move one finger unless you're okay with it.

You fall asleep faster than any other night since he arrived, only waking up for a slip second when you feel him carefully letting go of you. And you feel colder, but you know he can't sleep with you.

He presses a kiss to your temple, whispering something muffled before leaving your bedroom.

...

When he lies on his bed he seals his fate. He can't stay way from you. He doesn't want to.

The whisper on your cheeks more a confession to himself than to you.

"I think I love you."

It reverberates in his chest, a feeling he thought could never bloom again in his infertile heart. A feeling only you could sow on him.

Please, please let me know what you think about it. I love reading your thoughts, reblogs, asks and comments on this series 🩷

Hope you liked it, have a wonderful day, besties 🩷🫶🏻

My Masterlist 🩷🪷

Been a long while since part two, so I'm tagging some people that seemed to really like this series so far 🫶🏻

@pedritoferg @cleopatra99 @samsamsantos @thecaptainpandabear @blooodmoonbarnes @yourwinchesterbros @walkintheprk @cruelfvkingsummer @laiisleitte

#joel miller x reader #ghostfanwriter #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x virgin reader #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #i just want domestical and soft joel #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal's characters #joel miller writing #dirty hands

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jellyfishsthings · 1 year

Note

Hi love! Do you have a master list? Love your work!

I'm sorry it's not very organised with titles and stuff like other master lists but I didn't have much te to prepare it... enjoy tho these have to be my favorite works from many accounts. It includes both fluff and smut and a bit of angst....

more on the way in a second masterlist

🙏 please tell me if there is a problem with the links....

Masterlist No.1 (no.2 here)

Edit: Updated version ✌️

¤ = smut

smau = social media au

Marauders Era:

Remus Lupin:

Remus & lazy hickeys , Version 2 ¤

Remus adoring breasts ¤

Remus making you scream ¤

Getting you so worked up, you can not speak ¤

Kinda Meanie Remus ¤

Shirtless Remus ¤

Remus and his kisses ¤

Mean streak ¤

Summer vibes , Version 2 ¤

Taunting ¤

Rivals to lovers ¤

No homework done I guess ¤

Annoying distraction ¤

Wolfy traits¤

Making Birthdays special ¤

Remus in his feels ¤

Comforting reader , Version 2 , Version 3, Version 4

Taking care of you, Version 2

Warning label

Stress reliever ¤

Angsty Confession

Misunderstanding

Study Motivation ¤

Mean Remus, vol.2 ¤

Bad mood

Baby fever

Slowest slow burn to ever burn ¤

Formula One:

Charles Leclerc:

Baby Leclerc (smau)

Lotta history (smau)

It's never over ¤

Cat mama

Single mom

Jealousy jealousy (smau)

Lighting McMarried (smau)

For the hope of it all (Series smau)

Married to who (wolff reader)

Domestic Bliss (smau)

Bffs angst

Enemy racers (smau)

Vacation (smau)

Married angst

Revenge Reader (smau)

Overprotective (smau)

Charles as a dad, vol.2 (smau) , vol.3 (smau)

Max Verstappen:

Max being late

Max as a dad

U dumbfuck (smau)

Sexy times ¤

Crazy Cat Lady (series)

Carlos Sainz:

Obsessed (smau)

Mich Shumacker:

Rosy cheeks and salty hair ¤

Lando Norris:

Star wars? (smau series)

Danny Ric:

Best friends to lovers (smau)

Oscar Piastri:

Bookish (smau)

Soft launching? (smau)

This is about Oscar? (smau)

Who is Oscar Piastri? (smau)

Sweetener ¤

Grumpy x Sunshine (smau)

Kiss it better (smau)

Oblivious besties (smau)

My girl ¤

Vroom vroom bitch (smau)

Arthur Leclerc:

WHAT? (smau)

Oblivious bitches, pt.2 , pt.3 (smau series)

Ollie Bearman (i think you can tell that he is my fav) :

Besties to more (smau)

Insta dumps (smau)

Sunshine x grumpy (smau)

The black card life (smau)

Birthday boy (smau)

Race bffs (smau)

Teddy bear (smau)

Sickenly in love (smau)

(Extra)ordinary (smau)

Dating Ollie , vol.2 , vol.3, vol.4

No one else

In sickness and in health

Comfort after a race , vol.2

Domestic - ish

Morning snuggles

Those three words

Olives and Lemonade

Call me cupid

Only you (smau series)

#remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin fluff #remus angst #f1 driver x reader #f1 x you #f1 fic #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #oscar piastri x you #arthur leclerc #ollie bearman

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withoutyouimsaskia · 2 months

Text

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6

GIF: Originally posted by @simply---words

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dubious/non consent. Language. Kissing. Nudity. First time. AFAB + AMAB penetrative sex. Unprotected sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Hello there! How are you all doing? Thank you so much for sticking with me on this. I always hope I can get chapters out quickly and it always turns into 2+ weeks... Special thank you shout out to my IRL bestie @theviridianbunny for giving the chapter a once over ❤️Much love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus' eyes glint like onyx stones under firelight as he waits for you to yield. His breathing is as laboured as it was when you initially laid eyes on him, and with each exhale you are exposed more and more to the intoxicating scent that rolls off his alabaster skin.

One hand is braceleted around your wrist, thumb swiping back and forth over the veins there that jump frantically, the other steadies the solid appendage that nudges temptingly against your opening.

"I can see that you want this," he intonates proudly. "Your physical reactions inform me of all that I need to know."

Your attention darts down to the markers that are broadcasting your arousal: first to the hardened peaks of your nipples, and further down to blushing labia framing your swollen clit. Morpheus follows the same path with predatory meticulousness.

"Oh, yes, those reactions are delightfully obvious. Most of all here."

He drags the tip of his erection in a teasing circle around your entrance and smiles sadistically when you stiffen and whimper in response. He brushes his nose against yours, the playfulness of the gesture juxtaposed entirely by his next sentence.

"Your sweet enticing cunt, gushing as it prepares itself for entry."

If you could close your legs to shield yourself from further embarrassment you would, for his dirty words only add to the wetness that he has observed between them. It's now running onto the silk sheets, mingling with the pre-cum that drips from his poised cock.

Morpheus continues to speak, "But I would know from even more subtle signs: the shade of the flush on your chest, the curl of your toes, the arch of your back." He dips his head, breath feathering over the shell of your ear as he whispers, "You want penetration."

He is right. Of course he is.

The desire to be filled is powerful - a base instinct that is relentlessly chiselling away at your resolve. You swear you can hear a voice in your head chanting with every proverbial swing of the hammer:

Do it. Do it. Do it.

A conflicted whine pushes past the clench of your teeth.

Morpheus has fallen silent, his tongue tracing a scintillating path directly over your jugular, an action that makes you automatically twist to offer more of your neck to him. He doesn't oblige, instead he moves his head lazily and stares you down once more.

How was he so good at playing with you like this?

The question spends little time unanswered; the Maiden's words from the tail-end of your conversation with the Fates bounces to the forefront of your brain. "He has been made to be perfect for you."

It's the whole soulmates thing.

Speaking of the soul, to make matters worse, the ache in your chest is returning with ire. It appears that the touch of his skin is no longer enough to pacify the pain. A flash of recognition musters in your mind from the near-imperceptible sudden knit of Morpheus' brows, the tautness in his own chest; subdued cues that he shares this affliction.

You reach out with your free hand and spread your palm across his sternum, feeling the fierce shuddering there that matches yours.

His soul.

It is under the same stress as yours. He had said he could feel the sub-epidermal heat like you but had made no mention of this. Supernatural being or not, Morpheus is grappling with pain and it will simply not do.

Your eyes flick up, your decision made in the next heartbeat.

"I surrender."

Quicksilver flashes through those blackhole irises and with an exultant groan he sheathes himself within you.

You screw your eyes shut and cry out, amazed by how far he is able to push in before he meets resistance. The overstimulation you had been predicting is absent, as is the agony you feared would accompany it. It's just the involuntary constricting of your channel that you contend with, a metronome swinging between discomfort and enjoyment.

"Look at me," Morpheus commands in that velvet voice.

You comply, and when you do you see that his eyes are blue again. A pair of cerulean pools; tranquil, somewhere to shelter. If only you could relax enough to slip into those waters. There's so much tension in your jaw and balled fists, inside you.

"Breathe," he coaxes, guiding you with tenderness, a hand reaching to hold yours to give it a grounding squeeze.

You inhale slowly and shakily, mouth forming a shape of surprise when the muscles slacken and allow Morpheus to sink those last few centimetres within you.

The agony inside your chest ceases and from the small change in Morpheus' posture, you intuit that his has too. Heat like a solar flare envelopes you head to toe and the weight of his lustful stare only adds to the pyre.

"Mmm, that's it," he praises huskily, putting a forearm flat on the bed next to your face. "You feel divine, Y/N."

You nod zealously, unable to concur in any other way as he has robbed you completely of sentence forming. Your walls flutter as you adjust to the stretch, the feeling of this beautiful being bottomed out inside you. Your soulmate, exactly where he needs to be.

Morpheus makes the first move; a languid roll of his hips that grazes every place inside you, and releases breathy moans from you both. Your grab onto him, the spot where neck meets shoulder, as your mind scrambles to process the pleasure. With this initial test completed, he studies your expression, looking for any indication of a wish to stop. He finds none. Only a pair of expectant eyes overflowing with desire for him to keep teaching you like he promised.

He begins to rock into you with lavish, sensual thrusts. Your cunt unfurls even further to ease his movements; you are a moonflower, blooming under the night sky that overlooks the chamber, under his celestial form.

Remembering how much he liked it before, you move your free hand to play with his hair, eliciting deep-seated shudders all down his spine. It is joyous to inspire another such visceral reflex and you feel it pass through into your own body at each point of contact.

If he is a sculptor, you are the clay yielding beneath the presses of his body, shaping you into something entirely new - a lover. Just when he has you in the desired form, he changes everything.

He slows to a stop, still tucked safely within your warmth and secures his hands around your calves to bring them around his slight waist. You're not sure how it's possible but the change in elevation makes him feel even thicker.

His eyes are becoming darker again, gaze centred steadfastly on your face as he once more restrains both your wrists against the midnight coloured sheets. The semiotics give an unmistakable clue to his plan.

He's going to fuck you like he said he wanted.

You brace as he drags his cock back, and then he delivers a bruising thrust, animalistic grunt sounding low in his throat as the jut of his hip bones imprint into your flesh. A measure of dark lust is shot into your bloodstream and immediately you yearn for more of this roughness.

"Please," you say breathlessly.

He indulges you with a barrage of hammering thrusts, moans tumbling from your lips with abandon as warmth settles in your skeleton. His own vocalisations of pleasure syncopate with the completion of each thrust. The sound takes residence in your brain, his touch in every cell. The wish he had to occupy you in entirety is being granted.

You only take your eyes off him for a handful of seconds to look at the place where your bodies are joined, where he is slamming into you, the obscene image of it.

It's like he is an open flame and you are being doused in 99% proof vodka; the fire under your skin is so intense that your moans transform into screams. Morpheus consumes them all with the sudden seal of his mouth over yours.

The smothering action unlocks something inside you. In your chest, where your soul resides, it is vibrating aggressively, much more than it has done in the course of the evening thus far.

Morpheus notices the surge in the shaking and pulls back from the kiss.

"We must be close," he muses.

You feel the orb writhe in retaliation to his statement and your whole body does the same involuntarily.

"Shhh," he says in baritone purrs, pausing in his movements to soothe you. "A little longer and then I will breach the last defence about your soul."

His tone is confident as he restarts the powerful pace he has set, "I will not fail you."

He is stormy waves against a sea wall, bringing with it both the promise of blissful inundation and the threat of drowning. Yet you wouldn't mind drowning in him. A deep-rooted impulse tells you it would be an honour to lose yourself to the King of Dreams and Nightmares.

Your conclusion translates to the contraction of your calf muscles as you pull Morpheus tighter against you, deepening the physical connection to him as well as the emotional; choosing to submit fully to this somewhat scary situation - the tying together of your souls.

Pulling him closer, it's not without cost. The extra exertion, the deeper angle he can now reach, with all the pleasure it brings, quickly takes its toll. You are becoming weaker, his determined expression growing blurry, the edges of your vision field greying and closing in. You can't tell if you're about to climax or pass out.

Morpheus, observant and empathic, interlaces his fingers with yours and grips them tightly, clearly intent on keeping you here, not drifting off into the dimension of unconsciousness. Your returning hold is just as strong, perhaps a tad on the side of overtly vehement, but if it is then he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps railing into you, the warning signs of an oncoming orgasm beginning to daintily pulse through your walls.

A long-fingered hand reaches between your bodies to hover over your clit. With the last of your energy reserves, you arch up into his fingers, determined to reach your high, instinct telling you that it will somehow aid Morpheus in his endeavours.

He grunts sinfully in approval at your enthusiasm and uses the pad of his index finger to stimulate you, a familiar instruction issued as your soul jolts sharply, shockwaves rocking your bones.

"Let go."

The way he says the words, coupled with the movements of his hand and cock brings on the most intense orgasm you have ever experienced.

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds elapse where your muscles are clamping down, desiring to keep his still-moving length as deep inside as possible. You loudly say his name, pleasure devouring you whole as you look adoringly into Morpheus' indigo eyes, before you are devastated by a snapping sensation as he breaks your soul open.

You are splintered and for a measure of moments, the exposed edges of the shards threaten to turn your insides to ribbons. Your brace for lacerations is short-lived; his essence, like liquid lapis, pours in to bind the pieces of your soul. Melding with you on a metaphysical level. Waking you from the mortal life you had and greeting you with a new path.

While you have no basis for comparison, an errant thought occurs to you that what is transpiring between you and Morpheus is fulfilling something of unfathomable importance. Something that was borne far from this room, in both the measures of space and time. Primordial. Inexorable. This linking of your soul with his is the culmination of what the Fates have wanted for millennia.

And once your soul is content, your essence begins to reach out in return. Like tender shoots drawn towards solar light, your soul stretches past its boundary to embrace his.

It's the final trigger that allows Morpheus to find his own release. His mouth jumps in astonishment, eyes turning black, then silver, then blue; a broken groan echoing around the low-lit room as he buries his pulsating cock deep inside you and spills his seed into your cunt.

You keen from the warmth of it, and you swear the fast paced breaths he is taking sound like melodies carried on ocean breezes.

The stars above you have been joined by dancing swathes of green and purple - a depiction of the Aurora Borealis at its finest. It swells with each inhale that Morpheus takes, his state having a direct effect on the sky. The colours catch the high points of his face, glowing vibrantly on his cheekbones, nose bridge and cupid's bow.

You wonder if this is the most beautiful sight you will ever see. The perfect face of your ethereal soulmate, framed by celestial splendour, gazing at you with the same devotion that you are casting towards him. But then he smiles. A small, genuine smile that makes your heart soar despite its fatigue, and it's clear that there will never be anything that can compare.

Morpheus then lowers his head to your chest and presses his lips to your healed soul.

"You are complete," he declares.

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

Tag list: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt @littleblackcatinwonderland @1950schick @lollipopsandlandmines

Blinding: "Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids. Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs. No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone. No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden. No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love with the wrong world."

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skazoo · 3 months

Text

slow and blue and endless.

↳ kim taehyung x f!reader

someone stared at you through the window. you had always felt safe in your own home, shutting out the scary, real world. but a window is just glass, and glass… oh it breaks so, so easily.

length. 1.7k

genre. angst, yandere

warnings/tags. language, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, yandere themes, mind break, emotional manipulation, love bombing(?), mention of mental illnesses, physical violence, kinda gruesome allusion to murder, dark themes overall, minors advised to dni.

networks. none for this.

notes. [THIS IS A REPOST BC TUMBLR TAGS WON'T WORK AND I ALMOST CRIED<;3]

GAH these photos are so 80s serial killer making a creepy videotape that's gonna get edited in a true crime documentary coded...... i know you're seeing my vision, i KNOW it.... anywayyyyyy this is kinda not proofread, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for my exams a while back!! because when am i inspired if not when i shouldn't be?? i hope you like it and i swear something is almost ready for me to publish please wait a little longer (for my engenes and atiny besties)

⚠️ it goes without saying that i in no way condone any obsessive/stalking/creepy/violent behavior and despite this being "x reader" i'm not in any way romanticizing anything i'm writing. also this, as you all know, is fiction and names are merely a narrating mean. ⚠️

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

in a way you’ve always loved him. he knows. you don’t even have to say it out loud for him to be happy.

but sometimes it feels like you take him for granted. sometimes you make him really, really angry and that, he can’t let pass. and it's not for his sake but for yours. always everything for you. he has to make you understand that there are things you can’t do if you want to stay safe from the outside world. safe from him, sometimes.

running away is one of those ugly, wretched things you know well he hates, and he slams you against the wall and drags you back through the front door into the house by your hair, he bashes your head on the kitchen counter, near the fire of the stove he’s been preparing lunch with to make you understand a concept you're apparently too dumb to grasp.

“what the fuck did i tell you about running, uh?” seething with undiluted rage .

“i just wanted to go outside, tae. i swear!”

“i said what the fuck did i tell you about running!? do you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?!” his voice booms inside the walls of your head, an endless echo that makes bitter tears gather at the back of your eyes and spill over.

your face is burning. tongues of fire lick at your cheeks, a scorching caress that reminds you of taehyung's. his palm always leaves a brand behind, reminding him and yourself that he’s there.

your hands scramble for his in a miserable attempt to lessen his hold. “i’m sorry, tae! so sorry, please! please!”

his closed fist in your hair pushes your head closer to the heat. “i’ll fucking kill you if i have to, you know that right–” it’s not a question, merely a promise, but you nod anyway, frantically, desperately– “they’ll never stop finding your body, baby. do you understand?” he screams and shakes you with his hands tight in your hair when you only cry in response.

“i said,” leaning in, mouth brushing over your ear. chills go down your back as his voice turns sickeningly mellow as if he’s whispering sweet nothings instead of threats, “do you understand?”

“yes! yes! god, yes i understand! tae, i’m so sorry! it’s all my fault! it’s all my fault!”

your mindless babbles seem to humor him and he moves your head at a safer distance. “and why is that?”

“ ‘twas my fault! i put myself in danger if i run. tae, please! i’m so sorry!”

and you cry and cry and cry until you have nothing to give. until there’s only emptiness in your head that’s resting on his shoulder. until his shushes really feel reassuring. until he sits you down at the table to eat the lunch he prepared, the one that was so close to killing you. you nibble on it, too weak to really even taste the flavors.

he breaks the empty silence between you with a question. you startle at the sound of his voice and force your heavy eyes to focus on him.

“aren't you curious? about why i chose you?”

“no.”

he scrunches his eyebrows and regards you with a slightly displeased look that has you shrinking back on your chair.

“but i want to tell you…” he whines.

you don’t say anything about his antics. despite him behaving like a child you’re terrified of what his reaction would be if you actually treated him like one, so you press your lips together and wait.

“i like people that like me.” and it’s so simple how he says it. obvious, even.

“but why do you think i like you?” quietly, meekly.

he seems to like the question, his boxy smile one full of teeth that in other circumstances you would have found endearing. now it only makes him look like a predator, an animal, drool dribbling down his fangs, jaw ready to snap close around your neck if —and ultimately, when— you say or do the wrong thing.

“oh, i was so happy, Y/N,” he coos, your name curling in his mouth with ease, as if you’re always been around each other, as if it belongs there, “that when i chose you, you came with me.”

your mouth gapes open at the absurdity of it all. you wonder if he really thinks that you wanted all of this, that you wanted to be taken from your home. you’d ask your old psychology professor if you’d be correct to label him as a narcissist of sorts. a man with too much power, and free time, and loneliness to exhaust all on himself that he had to go around looking for a scapegoat for his secret misery.

“i didn’t– i didn’t come to you, taehyung. i didn’t have a choice.”

“so you were almost forced to come?”

“no,” it comes out more as a question than an answer and you lower your head in search of a way to rationalize the conversation at hand, “i was completely forced–”

“that’s what you tell yourself,” he retorts before you can even finish your sentence.

“it’s what i know is true,” you spit somewhat offended by his insinuation.

his smile is a sick thing when you raise your head from the food on your plate —cold and uninviting. the smell alone makes you want to throw up.

“are you sure?”

your anger leaves space for an unnerving sense of confusion. “what does that– what?”

your frown deepens as you watch him play around with his lunch. you follow his hands pushing back his glasses on his nose. the sick look of complacency that dances on his face seems to speak words that make the hairs at the back of your neck raise in dreadful anticipation. i know something about you that you don’t, his eyes say, and that alone is enough to make you want to scream.

he knows nothing!, you’d be shouting to the usually calm neighborhood, i haven’t told him anything about myself. he can’t know anything! he knows nothing! he knows nothing! you’d holler to the kids walking home from school hand in hand with their mothers who’d be looking at you with contempt, unaware of who lives among them. a wolf in sheep's clothing that could easily make you look like a psychopath.

you’d do it, you swear to yourself that you’d do it all if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve got the inkling fear that you’ve truly gone mad. the doubt that crawls on your back and makes its way in your ears, slithering then, with much glee into your delusional brain.

how long have you been in this house? his house or the one you bought together once you finished college? did you meet him on a slow rainy day outside a coffee shop or did you catch him staring at you from the window before he broke in and took you from your bed, leaving behind torn sheets and a broken frame with a picture of your friends? does your mind deceive you? are you sane? is he?

it feels like you've had this exact same conversation with him an infinite number of times, always stuck in a loop of unease and sadness that you really can’t explain. loving looks sent your way melt into scary grimaces sometimes and all you can feel is guilt because that’s tae. your tae. the man you chose, the man that chose you.

you realize your vacant eyes are crying when you feel a thumb swipe your cheek with a gentleness that makes your stomach churn in disgust and again a voice tells you that there’s something wrong with you.

“baby, are you alright?”

the way you look at him does nothing to the sick warmth brewing in his stomach. your shiny little doe eyes peeking up at him from under wet lashes, asking for forgiveness that taehyung would never deny you. nose red from the frustration of being lost in your own mind and mouth parted as if to ask him to show you the way, the truth that you seem to have lost.

he stands up and rounds the table to you for you to bury your head in his chest. sobs shake your tired form.

“shh, it’s okay, baby. i swear everything it’s okay. it happens to forget.”

“i’m sorry, tae,” you plead through broken breaths. “i’m so sorry, please.”

he shushes you. lips plant themselves in the crown of your head, a hand rubs at your back soothingly.

later, in the late evening, you lie in your bed. a bed. the sheets smell of him and the air you breathe does not feel like the one you're used to, but you’re calm. you think you are. maybe.

soft snores sound from behind you and you attempt to turn your head to make sure it’s him.

“tae?” you let out a whisper. not one that expects itself to be heard.

“yeah?” voice hoarse from sleep.

“nothing.”

he buries his nose in the hair at the nape of your neck, inhaling the shampoo he bought for you. “what?”

“just wanted to make sure you were still here.”

“i’m always here, baby.”

you hum.

minutes pass slowly, like molasses, as if the hand of the seconds inside the alarm on your nightstand is fighting an invisible force, a wall of rubber that threatens to bounce time back. you think he’s fallen back asleep. breath slowing, chest heaving, lulling you to slumber.

you close your eyes. “tae?”

he doesn’t answer. a car alarm sounds from outside the closed curtains, its prolonged blaring bringing a certain agitation in your otherwise silent night. a breath of summer wind leaves bumps on your skin in its wake. you sigh and his arms tighten around your torso. an unconscious gesture, soft, loving.

“i dream of you–” you let your words sink into the air, into the boiling water you carry around in your lungs that doesn’t let you breathe properly, and you shiver again but not from the chill bite of the wind “–and it’s slow, and blue, and endless.”

behind you, taehyung’s mouth stretches into a smile.

in a way, you’ve always loved him. he’s certain of it now as he was before. and even if you didn’t, he will always make sure to make it a reality, one way or the other. wether you want it or not.

taglist: @taevestr @fa1ryjoons @vcutvante

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung angst #bts angst #bts imagines #taehyung imagine

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poppitron360 · 4 days

Note

*slides you a 20 [whatever currency you're using] bill* now tell me about how you got to ship valzhang and what you like most about it, along with your headcanons and scenarios

...please<3

THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU.

Okay sorry for taking long to reply I needed to schedule 3hrs out of my day to respond to this because I have a LOT of thoughts- Valzhang was my otp LONG before Valgrace. Be prepared for a lot of caps lock, keysmashes and exited ramblings.

We are phenomenally deprived of Valzhang fanart/fanfiction and that is a CRIME. They are so fun and cute to draw next to each other because they’re just so different- I love how Leo looks SO FUNKING TINY next to Frank.

But seriously, we are lacking. I searched up “Valzhang” on Pinterest earlier and there is NO JOKE only 5 pieces of fanart on there. We need to step up our game!

I’ve already posted this, but here is some Valzhang fanart I drew a while back-

So, how did I come to become the No.1 Valzhang Defender, you ask? Well…

Reading TLH was going slowly (bc of Spotify Audiobooks and their stupid listening hours feature), but I needed to shovel content into my brain like popcorn and so by the end of the first book I’d known all the spoilers and I knew that Frank and Leo would have a rivalry- and I was already SUPER attached to Leo, so I was prepared to HATE Frank.

So imagine my absolute frustration when I read SoN and found myself absolutely falling in love with this massive softie. I tried not to, I really did, but I couldn’t help it.

So, naturally, I was COMPLETELY on board with them becoming besties.

I was also all for their rivalry because it had so much potential for Leo angst- he’s already antagonising himself because of his powers, so someone else treating him like shit would only make him feel worse- thus I have more ways to cathart my own pain through fictional characters, so either way, it was a win-win for me.

But the blossoming bromance we got from it-

Oh my gods.

I already made a post about my feelings on Valzhang and how Caleo is just a shitty re-cycled version of them, but NO WAY was that all my thoughts, so here goes (and bear in mind I am only on HoH so this isn’t even their arc as a whole):

*Clears Throat*

*Shuffles note cards*

*Clears throat again*

*Deep Breath*

1. FRANK IS NO LONGER AFRAID OF FIRE BECAUSE OF LEO!!!!! I mean HOW CUTEE IS THAT!!!!!! He thought that there was nothing worse than fire, he was terrified of it, it was his biggest weakness. And then he met this tiny annoying hyperactive boy who is the MOST UNLIKELY OF FRIENDS- And he taught him to not be afraid. Like there is a moment where his trousers are literally ON FIRE and he doesn’t freak out because Leo taught him to not be afraid anymore. AND IT’S NOT JUST BECAUSE OF THE POUCH!!!! Frank learns to trust Leo with his life- and there’s that moment in that scene where he’s faced with a choice to give him The Stick or not, and he chooses to trust Leo. He learns that fire (Leo) may seem scary and intimidating, but it can also be good and warm and wholesome and healing.

2. AND IT GOES BOTH WAYYYS!!!!! Leo was afraid of opening up to people, of letting down the mask and letting people see the real him. Sure, he did it a bit with Jason and Piper, but notice how in TLH, he only does it bc he didn’t have a choice. He used his fire powers to save them, and then Jason sort of just pieced together what happened the night Leo’s mom died. The first time he actually TELLS someone about it was when he tells Frank- someone who he thought was big and intimidating and so was putting his defences up with the jokes. To him, Frank looked just like someone who would’ve bullied him in the foster homes, he was the last person Leo thought he’d open up to. But he does, and Frank comforts him. They realise they’re not as different as they thought, and bonded over similar trauma and dead moms.

*Takes another deep breath*

3. LEO REALLY IS SO BRILLIANTLY TINY NEXT TO FRANK. IT. IS. SO. CUTE. Unlike Calypso and Leo, who were not planned out, Frank was WRITTEN to be Leo’s rival. They are exact opposites. The Yin and the Yang. The Sun and The Star (lol). They both juxtapose each other so beautifully- on the surface they contrast and clash but looking deeper they actually parallel each other but ultimately they compliment each other both in flaws and in strengths!!!! (*steadies myself on table* “Whoa, flashback to GCSE Eng Lit- using the same analysis structure. Are you proud of me, Miss Cox?”) But seriously, they initially are rivals because they look like complete opposites- tall/short, muscular/built like a twig, calm and careful/reckless and loud, animals/machines, Roman/Greek, Outwardly confident/Outwardly insecure, etc, etc.

4. But, as I said, looking deeper, they actually have a lot in common. Not just losing their moms, but Leo’s just as afraid of fire as Frank is. The only difference being that Frank’s afraid because of how it could hurt him, Leo’s afraid because of how it could hurt others, which directly contradicts Frank’s initial impression that Leo is self-centred and egotistic. Honey, that’s just an act. They’re also both very insecure, and both feel like the least useful member of the seven, and struggle to feel accepted. Because of how Leo felt threatened by Frank, he put his defences up and lashed out with his jokes, attacking Frank where he was most vulnerable, ridiculing him. They completely misjudged each other at first, and had an ANTI-meet-cute (Leo firing on New Rome) and it took a while for them to take down those walls that they’d built up, making it a lot more meaningful when they do open up.

And now we get onto specific hcs/scenarios I have, and I have a LOT of them:

1. Nico reveals to Leo that Frank’s mom is in Elysium because she gave her life in war to save others, whereas Leo’s mom is not, and instead is in Asphodel, despite all the little things she sacrificed in order to raise him, knowing he’d be important to the fate of the world. This causes a lot of resentment and jealously for Leo, as Frank has the one thing he desperately wants- a chance to see his mom again, make things right, get closure. Frank is annoyed by the fact that Leo is suddenly acting so cold and angry towards him, until Leo finally explains why.

2. Leo’s lactose-free mac n cheese is Frank’s favourite thing on earth. He has some sort of magic ingredient that makes the fake cheese not taste so plasticky, but he refuses to tell Frank what it is so Frank has to keep begging him to make it. Leo also makes it high in fibre and carbs, so it’s good workout food. Leo makes sure all his meals are Frank-Friendly.

3. I need to see them in battle together. Frank is incredibly anxious and overprotective of his tiny reckless bf/bff. Leo’s just a ball of freaking energy bouncing around going “ahahahbahjabkakdfkajkjaaa” and Frank’s like “Leo, no, those have teeth-“ He’s fine though.

4. As much as Frank acts like he hates Leo, he would risk his life for him in a heartbeat. I imagine Leo gets injured in battle and Frank drops whatever he’s doing and just fucking RUNS to help him. I can vividly picture him transforming into an elephant and scooping an unconscious Leo up in his trunk, and carrying him over to the medic tent. Yes, he’s currently being fired on by so many enemies, but nothing matters except getting Leo to safety.

5. Frank helps Leo with his machines. He can turn into small animals and get into tiny spaces, and he can become desert creatures, so the heat in the engine room doesn’t bother him.

6. Frank often finds Leo asleep on top of his blueprints, his welders-goggles askew, and he turns into a cat and curls up next to him to keep him company.

7. Also, when Leo skips meals because he’s spent too long working and he’s lost track of time, Frank makes sure to bring him food and water and his ADHD meds… and then he asks him to make him some mac n cheese.

8. Frank knows about PTSD from seeing his mom and her military friends, and so is often there to comfort Leo when he has flashbacks to the night his mom died, or one of the other miserable things that happened in his childhood.

9. All the things that used to freak Frank out about Leo (Leo making fun of his insecurities, Leo’s fire, the whole Sammy thing-) they are now 100% comfortable joking about together. Before, Frank would get upset when Leo ridiculed him, but now Leo does it as a sign of affection rather than as self-defence, and Frank can tell the difference. It is their love language.

10. When I write fanfiction, I often write important scenes when I think of them, and then write around them. Sometimes, it’s just one or two lines, for example I found this in my notes app the other day:

“I hate Hera,” Leo said, “She yeeted my dad off a cliff.”

“Yote,” Frank corrected.

And I had nothing written around it, nowhere to put it, it was just lying there. Anyway, that was important to share.

11. Also, I have this:

“I’m hugging you now,” Frank said, pulling Leo into an embrace and squeezing him tight.

“O- Okay, big guy,” Leo said, his voice muffled in Frank’s chest. His tiny body was practically swallowed in Frank’s bear-hug. He squirmed and fought and wriggled, but his weakling arms worked about as well as spaghetti against Frank’s brick-like build.

“No,” Frank insisted, “I will smother you with love and affection.”

“Get. Off.”

“No.”

“Let go of me, Zhang, or I’ll burn you.”

Frank let go. Leo rubbed his bruised arms.

12. I ship them platonically, but the joke-flirting is 1000% a thing they do. Hazel is the main pedaler of this, and often introduces them as “My boyfriend Frank, and Frank’s boyfriend Leo.”

13. Frank reluctantly admits to Leo that he likes Taylor Swift. Leo is obvs a swiftie, so absolutely goes MENTAL at this news, ofc ridicules him mercilessly for it, despite how hypocritical it makes him look (“This is not about me!”), but still insists they sit down with Hazel and make friendship bracelets (Frank no longer has the heart to tell him that he wasn’t actually a huge fan, just had a couple of her albums and liked her songs, unlike Leo who knows every word to every song, all the lore behind it, and Tay’s favourite colour, star sign, and shoe size.) AND I KNOW I HEADCANNON EVERYONE AS A SWIFTIE SHUT UP LET ME PROJECT.

14. Frank buys Leo fidget toys he think’s he’ll like. Sure, Leo can make his own, but it’s the sentiment that counts.

15. And they stay friends after the War. Frank frequently visits from New Rome University. They have long iris messages where they gossip and talk shit.

16. Leo becomes godfather to Frazel’s children. Absolutely SPOILS THEM ROTTEN (I also have a shit-tonne of hcs about Leo babysitting Percabeth’s kids, so lmk if you’d like to hear that.) Will visit the Zhang-Levesque household on the weekends, makes the kids gifts, teaches them how to safely use a fire extinguisher, helps them prank their dad.

17. I know Jason is meant to be Leo’s best friend BUT if Valgrace was cannon then that would leave room for Frank to be the BFF. NO BUT, YOUR HONOUR, YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND- They started out hating each other, but then became INSEPARABLE once they took the time to get to know each other and realised they were actually really cool people. It’s not enough for them to be friends, they need to be BEST FRIENDS. They need to be their ONE AND ONLY. They need to knock on each other’s cabin doors on the Argo II at 3am and have long discussions about Their Feelings. They need to be 100% comfortable with each other and tell each other everything. Yes, Leo is annoying but he is Frank’s annoyance. Yes, Frank is a goof but he’s Leo’s goof. BEST. FRIENDS.

They’re just such an unlikely pairing, I love them sm.

Thank you for sticking with me, I will not apologise for my ramblings, you were warned, but if you did make it to the end, here, have a sweet 🍬 You are clearly just as dedicated a Valzhang stan as I am (It is currently 00:54am where I live)

I will probably have a lot more Thoughts and Feelings coming your way soon, so don’t think for a second that I’ve got it all out of my system. I still haven’t finished the series yet, and I know that as soon as I post this I’ll think of something else that I should’ve added, but I hope this was enough for now.

(Also, I’m British, so I’d use a £20 (“twenty pound”) Note, in case you were curious.)

Again, thank you so much annon for the Ask- as you can see, I LOVE VALZHANG.

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ker0senebunny · 2 years

Text

meet me behind the mall✫*ﾟ･ﾟ

steve harrington x fem!reader

part ii — 9/25/22

summary: steve was never yours to lose. you went in knowing that, but god, you'd give anything to go back to that summer. a tale of childhood enemies, kisses in cars, and the best summer of your life. inspired by my favorite track from folklore. enemies to almost lovers. focuses primarily on seasons 2, 3, and 4. (angst, fluff, smut)

warnings: afab!fem!reader, language, angst, fluff, smut (18+), dom!steve strikes again except he's a lil meaner, sub!reader, drinking/use of alcohol, but no use of sir or daddy etc, praise + degredation combo yktv, oral (m!recieving, mentions of f!receiving), mentions of penetration (pls remember to practice safe sex!!), mentions of fingering, use of pet names, size kink (for like one second), dirty talk, no use of y/n, kinda asshole!steve but pt ii is gonna be more soft s3 steve. promise. all characters are 18+, beta'd (freakin finally) by @flwersgarden, @royalmaybank, @appocalipse, and @kissmxcheek

word count: 9,596 (jeez. now u all see why it took so long)

notes: first of all: thank you to my absolutely lovely proofreaders/editers/besties. you all are always kind, always encouraging, always loving. you motivate me on my most unmotivated days. i admire you all so much as writers and as wonderful people. with that being said, it's been a while, hasn't it! so sorry for the delay. college is very overwhelming! anyways, as you see above, the sequel will (hopefully) be out in two weeks. this is part i of iii so strap in everybody. enjoy! xox olive

p.s. 500 followers wtf??? thankyou im gonna stinkin cry. and as always, reblogs are greatly appreciated. thank u for the lurv (srsly)

when steve harrington loves someone, he makes it known. which perfectly explains why he didn’t want to make you known.

you wanted him to be the boy who walked you up your driveway, moths fluttering against the porch light overhead. you wanted him to take your chin between his fingers and tilt your lips toward his. you wanted to taste the watermelon lip balm he’d borrowed from you. you wanted him to wait until you unlocked the door, almost slipping inside, before turning around to feel the plush of his lips against yours just once more.

and you foolishly believed that he could be that boy.

instead, you got rushed calls asking you to meet him behind the mall in his BMW and a stupid nickname.

steve was probably your greatest enemy (no, you’re not exaggerating. a years-long feud has earned him that title). but it was fine. after all, you had your best friend robin. the two of you were planning on moving to california after high school, dreaming of a shabby apartment with peeling paint that you’d cover up with photos of friends and posters. maybe you’d coparent a cat. you didn’t even know what you wanted to do with your life, yet. you just couldn’t handle hawkins anymore. it was a drab little town, rusted and decaying. not quite past its prime — there wasn’t really ever a prime. you just wanted more.

steve was your next door neighbor. to say things had been rocky between the two of you would be an understatement. your parents were on good terms, and you and steve used to be sort-of-maybe-kind-of friends.

it all started when an ice cream truck pulled onto your ritzy street. you ran out of your house at full force: nine years old, with one tooth missing in the front. you had begged your mom for her spare change right before you sprinted out the door. you just had to get the last cherry ice pop. but someone was there before you; you watched as the truck driver placed a red “x” over your precious ice pop flavor. you were dejected, preparing to go back inside when you caught a glimpse of a striped shirt out of the corner of your eye. it was steve harrington, your older next door neighbor who lived just over the fence to the right of you. you threw a determined look in the direction of the brown-haired boy before marching up to him. you tapped him on the shoulder and he looked at you, confusedly. you held out your little palm, coins clinking and set in the center.

“i’ll pay you extra for that ice pop,” you said, your mouth set into a serious line. steve seemed interested, quirking his brows up, hazel eyes shimmering in the indiana humidity. “how much do you have?” he asked, nodding at your hand. you counted the coins in your hand. “i have one dollar. and i know you paid fifteen cents for that ice pop. i’ll give you the whole dollar for it.” he pondered your deal for a couple of seconds before saying, “nah, i’m good!” and walking around you, back toward his house. you turned around to chase him as as he walked toward his house. “please, steve! cherry is my favorite,” you begged, putting on your best pitiful face that always worked on your parents and stopping right in front of him. you watched as his face changed, and you thought you’d won. “oh cherry’s your favorite?” he asked. you nodded so vigorously that your summer dress waved in the muggy air. “tough luck,” he said before unwrapping the ice pop and taking a big bite in front of you. you stood there, mouth agape as he exaggeratedly enjoyed what should’ve been your ice pop, right in front of you no less! he licked his crimson-dyed mouth as he threw the barren popsicle stick into the garbage can in his driveway. “see you around, cherry,” he said as he walked up to his porch and slammed the door to his house.

that’s how you became cherry to steve and steve only. he annoyed you every day of your life with that stupid fucking nickname.

on your first day of freshman year, you popped into the entrance of hawkins high with robin, your best friend since middle school. steve saw you, whistled, and yelled down the hall, causing everyone to stare at you: “hey, sweet cherry! look at you, all grown up.” your excited face morphed into a fiery glare as you angrily walked past him, skirt swishing. his goons howled and cackled as you seethed, robin turning around to flip them off.

it wasn’t like the two of you fought every time you were around one another. okay, it totally was. but it was because he was such an insufferable dickhead and you were definitely not going to take his bullshit lying down.

he started dating nancy during your sophomore year, something you learned as you walked to his car in the morning, opening the door to the passenger side before his hand shot out to stop you. you rolled your eyebrows. “steve, i have a big history test today and i’m not in the mood for whatever the fuck you’re doing.” he rolled his eyes back at you. “we’re picking up my girlfriend,” he said, kicking at the loose gravel in his driveway. your eyebrows flew to the top of your forehead. “girlfriend?” your voice rising so high in pitch that it came out as a squeak. “and you haven’t managed to be an utter douche yet?” he rolled his eyes so hard you were afraid they'd get stuck there. “just get in the backseat, cherry,” he said as he slid into the car.

you looked at the smooth leather incredulously as steve adjusted his rearview mirror. you gingerly pushed your bag into the car, making sure your body touched the seat as little as possible. “i don’t even want to know what’s happened back here,” you said as you shuddered. steve caught your gaze in the mirror, a piece of gum popped in his mouth. “y’know, cherry, you’ve had many chances to find that out for yourself,” he said with a teasing lilt to his lips. you scrunched your nose in disgust and made a retching noise. “i’d rather drink a t-shirt through a straw,” you said in a huff. to your surprise, he actually laughed.

you hadn’t been paying attention, choosing to review your history notes one more time and so you didn’t realize you pulled up to the wheeler house. now, you were extra intrigued. steve honked twice and rolled down the window as nancy wheeler approached, giving her a kiss at which you gagged. he glared at you through the rearview mirror.

“nancy, you know cherry. my enemy,” he said as he pulled out of her driveway, a hand on the back of the passenger seat. you saw the veins and tendons in his arm flex under suntanned skin from a summer of lake days and pineapple sunscreen. nancy gave you a shy smile, which you returned. you also told her your real name and explained to her that for some reason, her dipshit boyfriend couldn’t let go of something that happened when you were kids. she laughed prettily at your words and a weird feeling settled on your chest, an unwelcome and quite frankly, bothersome weight. she returned to a gooey conversation with steve, letting you simmer uncomfortably in the backseat.

you blocked out their lovey-dovey-whatever-the-fuck with your flash cards.

you hated yourself for it, but when steve and nancy started falling apart, you were kind of glad. you’d actually gotten pretty close to nancy because of all the carpooling, often seeking one another out during your classes to giggle about something one of the basketball jocks said. so you hated yourself for your glee at seeing them leave separately at a halloween party. you didn’t even really understand why it felt like that intrusive weight had been lifted from your chest. you convinced yourself that you were just relieved that youur dear friend dumped that idiot.

at the moment, you were dressed up in your sluttiest costume, batting away gross high school boys who tried to woo you. you were dressed as a pixie: a form fitting, dark green dress, so short that the distressed skirt barely brushed the top of your thighs. you finished off your look with a cute pair of wings. you were just trying to enjoy the night with robin; the two of you made it a habit to people-watch at these things. well, because drunk people were funny and easy to make fun of. it’s not mean, it’s just the truth.

you saw steve walk in and immediately nudged robin to snort at his stupid risky business costume, but then he took his sunglasses off. and he saw you. and he looked you up and down over the edge of those stupid sunglasses. and he ran his stupid tongue over his stupid pretty mouth. and maybe it was the vodka running through you (cherry flavored of course), but god, in that moment, you just wanted him.

you shook yourself from your lustful stare and broke eye contact with him. he slipped his glasses back on and followed a very distressed looking nancy deeper into the party. again, probably the cherry vodka, but you didn’t seem to notice her coming your way. she called your name to get your attention and an easy smile made its way onto your face. “nance!” you giggled as you moved to squeeze her. she laughed at your tipsy self and made sure that you were okay before giving steve an unsure look and getting herself a drink. you were left with steve as he took off his sunglasses again, just to look you in the eye. you looked to your left, but robin was nowhere to be seen.

“you look good, cherry,” he said lowly, taking you in once again.

your breathing was a little uneven. “tha-thank you,” you said, looking at your green fingernails against the red of the solo cup in your suddenly clammy hands. he leaned one arm against the wall behind you, blocking your view of the kitchen.

“really good,” he said at a volume only you could hear. you shuddered as you felt blood rush to the surface of your cheeks, warming them to the touch. it was definitely the alcohol in your body because here you were, getting horny over steve fucking harrington. a) your enemy and b) the boyfriend of one of your friends. thank god said friend returned that instant, pulling steve away to dance, seemingly refreshed by a shot of tequila. you gave nancy's hand a squeeze before she left, mouthing the words “call me later” at her. you thought that something was off with her. obviously, she was still grieving barb’s death - something that she confided in you. but you had a feeling that there was more there.

sometimes, it’s scary how on the nose you are with things.

at least an hour ago, robin told you that she was going to walk home with vickie, a girl who was in marching band with her. you were a comfortable amount of tipsy: the kind of drunk where every blink feels like a new, warmly-tinted world. but not so drunk that you’d make catastrophic decisions.

you didn’t need alcohol to do that.

you decided that it was time to leave. you’d finally gotten bored of watching all the people you knew make a fool of themselves. you walked outside, past cups littered on the lawn and through the october chill, to see steve sitting in his car - alone. you furrowed your brow before crossing your arms to create a little warmth and walking over. you gently knocked on the driver’s side window, startling the boy. he had a vacant look in his red-rimmed eyes. steve rolled down the window before sighing out, “cherry, i’m really not in the mood to fight right now.”

now you had to know what happened.

“i’m not here to fight with you,” you said as you leaned in closer, “i saw you when i came out and just wanted to check in.” you said it so plainly, like it was an obvious truth and not a huge contradiction to the entirety of your relationship. steve felt like his lungs had started again. he rolled up the window before pushing open the passenger seat door. you’d just barely settled into the seat and closed the door before he said, “nance told me she doesn’t love me.” you turned to face him. “steve, she was super drunk-“ he looked at you with more raw emotion than you’d ever seen from him. “cherry.” he stopped you in the middle of your sentence. “i know that she meant it.” you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know how to handle comforting the one person you’d hated for what felt like a lifetime.

you turned your whole body to face him before stretching across the console to give him an awkward hug. he went stiff in your grasp as you looped your arms around his shoulders. “what the hell are you-“ “shut up, dipshit,” you said, “i’m giving you a goddamn hug. just accept it. you can win her back, y’know? you can be sort of sweet, sometimes.” he actually relaxed at your words and pushed his cheek into the space between your collarbone and your neck. you felt him inhale against your skin and your flesh pebbled. he slowly wrapped his arms around you too, pulling you into him. you squeaked in surprise and he chuckled, the warmth and the vibrations of his low voice extended through your entire being. “thank you, cherry. needed this.” you hummed. “of course, steve. i don’t actually hate you, did you not know that?” you felt him shrug. “honestly? i couldn’t tell.” you threw your head back and laughed, the sound taking up the small amount of space in his car. as you stopped laughing, you noticed that you were almost on his lap, your hands moving to rest against his broad chest. his pretty pink pout inched closer toward yours. there was a fraction of an inch between the two of you. “steve,” you said softly into the air between you two, “we can’t. there’s still nance to think about. you haven’t actually broken up yet.” he shook his head, a hand coming to rest on your hip. you could feel the warmth of his hand through your flimsy skirt. “there’s no nance. there’s only you right now, cherry.”

when steve harrington kisses someone, he wants them to feel it. and he wants them to feel it everywhere.

you definitely did.

he pushed his silken lips to join yours, sending you into a spiral, body thrumming with feverish passion. his kiss was needy, as if you were a replacement for someone else but he just needed someone. but you didn’t care. because that wasn’t the craziest thing about this…entire experience. your arms had wound themselves around his neck, his arms around your waist, tugging you across the console.

of course, you tasted like cherries. steve groaned as he caught your bottom lip in his teeth, silently asking you to open your mouth for him. your little gasp allowed him to slip is tongue into your mouth; his big hands tugging you even more into his lap. he kissed you like it would be the last thing he ever did on this godforsaken earth. you clumsily crawled to his seat, planting yourself in his lap. you both laughed into the kiss, before melding your lips together once again. he kissed you breathless, watching as your lips shone with a mixture of his and your spit. he pulled you toward him to plant another passionate kiss on your mouth, before making his way down your neck. steve sucked little bruises into the column of your throat and savored the taste of your sweet soap. he left a vine of dark, blooming spots as you writhed and shivered on top of him. you pitched your hips over his, causing your clothed core to run over the ridge of his growing bulge. he kissed all the way down to your chest, running his hands up and down your sides, causing you to shiver. he bit down gently on the swell of your left breast, gently sliding his hand under the delicate strap of your dress, pulling down on the elastic to reveal your entire breast. you pushed your chest forward and he grunted out a laugh as he wrapped his pink pout around your stiffened, pert nub. you were throwing your head back to give him more access to your tits, lost in the pleasure, when suddenly his horn beeped — startling you both. you looked at him with your matching kiss-stung lips, your eyes wide. he was still breathing heavily.

you looked at the dark sparkle of steve’s eyes and the flush to the tips of his ears. you smiled down and leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head. you stopped abruptly, smoothing down his collar in a calming motion. “is everything okay?” you asked delicately. even though your bodies were pressed together, you and steve couldn't have been further from one another. he ran a hand over his face and sighed. “i can’t do this cherry.” you gave him a small smile of pained understanding and slid off of his lap.

he put the car into drive.

the ride toward both of your houses was silent, save for the wind rushing past the window you opened. you’d needed to cool off after what had just occurred; you may have betrayed one of your friends by furiously making out with her boyfriend (who she thinks you hate) and you kissed steve harrington. the boy who gave you the dumbest nickname he could think of so he could use you as personal entertainment.

because that’s what he does. he uses people.

steve pulled up to your house, and as you moved to open your door, he gently took your wrist in his hold. you halted your movements, turning your head to look at him. “i just want you to know that this didn’t mean anything, cherry. it can't.” you felt as if your brain had plummeted to your feet. you blinked in shock. “what do you mean?” you asked, arms crossed in front of you, brows high. “that. in my car. it didn’t mean anything to me.” you were stunned. he kissed you first, and when you reciprocated, he reciprocated with even more fervor. you scoffed before exiting his car. “you’re never going to find ‘the one’ if you keep treating girls like shit, steve.” you slammed his car door, causing him to jump a little at the force. you trudged up the stairs to your porch as shameful tears burned at your waterline.

you heard the quiet rumble of his car as he waited for you to safely enter your home. your fingers trembled in the crisp fall air as you slipped through your door. he simply turned to go to his house. you could see the marks your teeth had left, lavender and garnet winding their way around his neck.

(and then he had the audacity to ignore you for almost an entire week.)

your parents were asleep as you padded up the carpeted stairs. you quietly shut the door to your room, running your hands over your face. there was a post it left atop the phone on your nightstand — a note from your mother. it said that you had a call from nancy and to make sure that you called her back. your still shaking hands picked up the phone, dialing the wheeler family’s number. your slightly drunken brain was all muddled, from both the alcohol and the memory of steve’s plush kisses seared into your skin. so muddled, in fact, that you’d barely remembered that it was past midnight. thankfully, it seemed that nancy was awaiting your call, picking up after only a few rings. you waited for her to say something, calling out her name gently to get her attention, closing your eyes as sobriety started to make your head ache.

”steve and i broke up.”

your eyes popped open in surprise. “what? why?” you spluttered, unsure how to support her. she seemed subtly different — distanced, even. “i don’t think i ever loved him,” she said. she sounded exhausted. “i’m so sorry nance,” you said, heart making a dull, incessant thudding in your ribcage. sure, on a technicality he’d been single, but now he was your friend’s ex. she sighed into the phone. you could picture her curling and uncurling the thick, coiled wire as she talked to you. “eh, it was for the better. he just used me to prove that he could get me, y’know? i don’t think he actually wanted me.” you didn’t say anything. of course you knew better. of course you knew that he did, in fact, actually love her. “what an asshole!” you said indignantly, “give me the word nance and i’ll climb into his room from mine and rock his shit.” her laugh trickled out of the tiny speaker, crackled but joyous. “you always make me feel better,” she said to you in earnest, “thank you. you’re just one of those people who would never hurt me. i’ll call you tomorrow.” your pulse seemed to fall out of your body. but you didn’t tell her that; she needed the you she knew, not the you who almost fucked her ex two seconds after they broke up. “of course, nance. i love you.” that’s what you settled on. you both bid one another good night and hung up the phone. you grabbed your stuffed teddy and curled around it, falling just on the line between consciousness and sleep.

you had a reputation of being a good babysitter so when claudia henderson calls, you pick up. dustin was one of your favorite kids in hawkins, constantly making you laugh with his quips and contagious smile. on that particular fall weekend morning (claudia had a wedding to go to), dustin was determined to see steve. he kept dragging out your name, pestering you with a whiny tone of voice. “please!” he said as you spread mustard on his sandwich at the kitchen counter. “absolutely not!” you sang, keeping up with your rhythmic smearing. dustin groaned and put his head on the counter like a toddler. he said something, but it was muffled by the granite surface. “come again?” you said with a small smile on your face at his antics. dustin raised his head, blowing curls away as they blocked his vision. “he’s just helping me look for dar— i mean, for mews. please?” you sighed at his pleas. you couldn’t deny that your heart clenched at the thought of the innocent boy and his missing cat. “fine,” you said, rinsing off the knife you’d been using and giving dustin his lunch. “but i’m not letting you out of my sight. i’m in charge. capiche?” he nodded and thanked you through his chewing, oblivious to the storm rampaging through your mind at the thought of seeing steve.

you’d been trudging through dry leaves for what felt like hours, but was probably more like 20 minutes. when you’d arrived at this shady meeting spot with dustin, steve spat out your name. you winced internally at the omission of the nickname you claimed to hate. “what’s she doing here, henderson?” he asked, with venom lacing his voice. as if you were the one to initiate a kiss, tell him that it meant nothing, and ignore you for no reason. he was giving dustin quite a look, one you took to mean that he didn’t want you there because of the kiss. what you didn’t know was that steve wanted you as far away as possible from the dangers of the upside down. but of course, you had no idea that steve and dustin had been through literal hell together. “i’m in charge of dustin for today, so i’m staying,” you said, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows in a challenge. “stubborn as always, cherry,” he said into the empty forest, not even bothering to look at you.

so, you spat back, “fuck you, harrington.”

“almost did, baby,” he said over his shoulder.

your mouth was agape. your vision turned white hot with rage at his immaturity. so you did what any rational person would do.

a crack rang out and spread throughout the wood. steve held his cheek where an imprint of your delicate hand was beginning to redden. your own hand stung from the force with which you slapped him, a tingle spreading through your palm. dustin looked on with shock in his big brown eyes. steve just turned toward the abandoned railroad track and began walking, rubbing his jaw.

the two of them were spreading meat all over the forest floor, and when you’d asked, dustin had given you some half-baked excuse. you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it, but you were so stressed out that you let it slide. you walked with your arms crossed to keep out the autumn bluster that permeated your cream-colored sweater. the red ribbon in your hair blew gently in the breeze, and steve thought about his hands embedded in your hair, his mouth on yours, you, in his car. in his bed, waking up to your face. he returned to the present when he heard you ask dustin about if he was sure "mews" was in this “creepy forest.”

you were looking at steve, too. he looked a little too good in his jeans and gray members only jacket. his hair was coiffed over as per usual, but you kept thinking about how you’d mussed it beyond repair the last time you saw him. you felt embarrassment and a little excitement rush to your cheeks as you tried to look anywhere but at him and his stupid, perfect face. and he had a bat with nails in it. why he took it with him to look for a cat, you didn’t know. but it was kind of hot.

he’s a dick, you quickly chastised yourself.

“dude, that’s not how you impress a girl,” you heard steve say. you were intrigued. you knew that dustin probably also told steve about his crush on max, and steve being just so good with girls was about to give him some advice.

“i don’t know. you’re trying way too hard,” steve continued.

dustin rolled his eyes in exasperation. “well, not everyone can have your perfect hair. alright?” he retorted.

steve rolled his eyes right back. “it’s not about the hair, man. the key with girls is just…just acting like you don’t care.”

you snorted at that, causing both of them to turn to look at you. steve narrowed his eyes as you challenged his words. “got something to add, cherry?” he said with that tone of voice that made you want to tackle him. a small smile made its way to your pretty lips. the same lips that steve couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about. “that’s not how you show a girl that you like her.” dustin was suddenly enraptured by your perspective. “what do i have to do? tell me!” the boy begged you. you laughed at his urgency. “show her that you do care. communicate with her. be clear about what you want with her,” you said with certainty, before continuing, “be kind to her. do something for her that you know she’ll like.” steve was silent. you thought he was upset by you stealing his thunder, but really, he was deep in thought. why was he thinking about you? why was he thinking about how he kept your favorite watermelon lip balm in his car (just in case you needed some. he definitely didn’t use it to see what you’d taste like)? why was he thinking of sneaking through your window to kiss you silly and wake up with his face in your neck, your hands on his back? why was he thinking of you, his cherry, instead of nancy? he blinked to clear his mind of thoughts of you, before grumbling something about the light disappearing.

on that day, you were supposed to be watching dustin. except for the fact that the child you were supposed to keep safe, was very much indeed, missing. you’d called him down for dinner over 15 minutes ago. he told you that he was going to do some homework after your excursion with steve. when no response came from his room, you’d searched the entire henderson household, frantically moving shower curtains and drapery aside. you almost gave up when you saw that the laundry room window was open, and you knew that your favorite little shit had gotten out. you went out into the living room to center yourself as you felt panic sink in. a loud crackle brought you out of your deep breathing. it was one of dustin’s extra walkie talkies on the coffee table. you grabbed it and fiddled with the dial until you heard small voices calling dustin’s name. “dustin! where are you? we’re almost at the junkyard.” a beep, another crackle. “almost there! it was tough to get out, guys. give me a break.” it was dustin. your mind went into protective mode as you shoved your feet into your converse and grabbed the walkie talkie. you rushed outside and took one of the spare bikes in the hendersons' garage before booking it to the old junkyard, the light sinking beneath the horizon and dusting the world around you in night.

when you arrived, you saw dustin and lucas (whom you knew), along with a redheaded girl and wait— steve? “dustin!” you yelled, worry evident in your voice. everyone’s heads whipped toward you, all four sets of eyes equally as wide. you marched toward the group, wading through the darkness and the heavy fog, fully prepared to drag dustin home. “cherry, you can’t be here,” steve said, taking a step toward you. “don’t tell me what to do, harrington. i mean nothing to you, remember?” steve didn’t know how to respond. his mouth moved as he reached for some way to tell you, no, cherry, honey. i can’t let you see this.

“i’m staying,” you said with finality. steve moved to protest again, but you both jumped at a rattling nearby. something growled and steve raised his bat. “cherry, take the kids and get in the bus,” he said, eyes flitting around — alert. “eat shit harring-” “cherry,” he said. he said that stupid nickname like he’d never said it before, urgently, tenderly, begging. you nodded breathing out a little “okay” as you herded the children toward the rusty vehicle. you all peered out as steve called to the creature, taunting it. lucas was looking through his binoculars when he gasped. “steve,” he screamed. “watch out!” steve kept his eyes trained on the monstrosity emerging from the fog. “a little busy here,” he said, licking his lips in anticipation of a fight. “three o’clock!” lucas yelled again. before you knew it, dustin was running toward the bus door, throwing it open, and calling steve’s name, and yelling “abort! abort!” you pulled dustin back in, hands trembling as you saw one of the creatures lunge at steve. he dodged successfully, rolling over the hood of a desolate car. another one launched itself at him and your heart seized in fear. luckily, he was fast enough to swing his bat at it; it landed with a half-whimper, half-growl. you realized that you were screaming now too.

“steve! hurry!” you cried, desperation tearing through in your voice. he was running now, running harder than ever now that he’d heard your sobs for him. he jumped in at the last second, just as you threw your arms out and shut the door. the creature’s body landed with a sickening thud against the door. more creatures gathered with the original, scratching at the door and shaking the bus. you scrambled to get the kids behind you as steve fortified the door. one broke through the door; everyone was yelling but you pushed the kids to the back of the bus as steve beat the monster with his bat. you joined him at the front, taking a nearby metal rod to help, knocking the beast to the ground, where it heaved weakly. one of its brethren saw your attack and charged at you. steve reacted in a heartbeat. he was on the monster in an instant, viciously hitting it with his bat. after a few more seconds, the creature made a shuddering move before laying still. the one previously attacking steve seemed to orient itself. it snarled, all dripping teeth and ragged growls, and threw itself at steve. he was unsuccessful, and to your horror, was about to go for steve’s throat. your name was caught on his tongue as he looked to you for comfort, for anything. and he saw it in your eyes. he saw everything you were afraid to tell him. but then, the monsters seemed to be enchanted by something, something you couldn’t perceive. they suddenly leaped out and off of the bus. relief flowed through your veins as you realized everyone was in tact. steve was in tact. you noticed that the two of you were smushed together as the kids regrouped next to you. you both pretended not to notice that steve’s arm was encircling your waist, rubbing at the sliver of skin that your top revealed.

“what the fuck was that steve?” you breathed out. you felt his chest rise beneath your back. “a demodog.” “a what?” he sucked in a breath, tensing underneath you, before launching into an explanation about all things upside down. at the end of his rant, you were quiet. “that’s why i didn’t want you here,” he said as if he weren’t sure you’d be listening. but you were; he held your attention fully. “i didn’t want you to have to see this.” you turned to face him, interlocking your fingers. “well, i’m sure as hell not leaving you now, harrington.” “as if you could ever stay away from me, cherry baby.”

oh, how right he was.

since steve had revealed the upside down to you, the two of you had been through a lot. more than the average enemies would go through together. he’d been beaten up by billy hargrove (someone you never particularly liked), and you’d sobbed over his bruised face, blood crusting in the little fissures left by billy’s knuckles. he’d woken up, dizzy and in pain to feel the wetness of your tears on his face. “i’m okay, cherry. look at me, hey? i’m fine,” he said, reaching up to put his palm on your cheek. he kept a secure hold on you as you traversed the complex tunnels, crushing you into his chest when he thought you two were about to die in a herd of inter-dimensional monsters. you’d both pulled away quickly, cheeks warm and clearing your throats nervously. surely enemies do that, right?

so now, steve was only more of a pain in your ass. especially since he made your heart flutter, since he made you perk up at just one whiff of rosemary and laundry detergent.

when starcourt mall opened up over the summer, robin got a summer job. the hendersons didn’t really need you as much this summer, and you already had a pretty good babysitting gig going with the waldens who lived on the other side of you. so in your spare time, you’d go visit your best friend.

the only issue was that steve pain-in-your-ass harrington worked with her.

sure, the free ice cream may be worth it, but was it really worth it to see him? especially after that halloween night. at the end of the day, you loved robin more and could shove the stinging thrill of seeing steve to the bottom of your stomach.

the only issue was that he looked too damn good in his dumb fucking sailor uniform. and you kept thinking about kissing him again.

both robin and steve were working today; you were perched behind the counter on a stool that robin had designated for you. though you’d tried to forget about "it" and him, you just couldn’t. yeah, you asked him to forget, but it seemed like he remembered it just as vividly as you did. the two of you tried to stay on opposite sides of the store, which was difficult considering that it was extremely small. and the area behind the counter just had to be narrow. he’d brush by your legs, causing your spine to stiffen and a sharp inhale to make its way down to your lungs. he’d grace you with a faint, “sorry, cherry.” you’d tuck your legs in closer to your seat. you wouldn’t — and couldn’t — look each other in the eye. robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious, chattering away to you both. you’d noticed that the two of them were getting closer. you weren’t the type of person to tell your friends who they could and couldn’t be friends with, but robin knew that steve used to be your enemy. not used to be, you reminded yourself, he is my enemy.

it was one of the slower days that june — the morning of what would inevitably become the friday rush. the store was quiet, save for the hum of the freezer. you were enjoying your sample of cherry-almond swirl as robin checked the freezer one last time. “shit,” she muttered, sliding one of the frosted doors open. you cocked your head at her, spoon still in your mouth. robin turned to steve. “i have to go refill the cookies and cream. we accidentally put two chocolate chips in. be right back!” she was out the door before either you or steve could offer your help in the larger freezer in the back (aka avoid one another). the hum of the fluorescent lights was louder, grainier, invading your headspace. the edges of the plastic spoon now stung the sides of your mouth and the almond flavor left a bitterness on your tongue. you took the spoon out and chucked it into the “used spoons” cup, all the way from your little stool. “nice shot,” steve said, causing you to whip your head around to look at him, surprise sparking in your eyes at the sound of his voice. “thanks,” you said dryly. it was quiet for a beat before you took the initiative to speak again. “i don’t think i’ve ever told you, but i’m sorry about you and nance,” you said. he gave you a tight smile. “right,” he said, “you two are close.” you mirrored his smile. “yeah. i know you tried your best,” you said awkwardly. “thanks. i just don’t know if i’m meant to have her,” he said with melancholy weaving through his words. steve looked like he wanted to say something else. just as he opened his mouth, you both turned toward the door as you heard robin mumbling about how heavy the ice cream was. steve quickly turned toward you, “meet me behind the mall. after my shift. please?” you nodded slightly, suspicion clouding your eyes. he reached out to squeeze your hand, moving toward the register and giving the standard scoops ahoy greeting as the afternoon rush began.

steve had left scoops maybe fifteen minutes ago. you nibbled at your lip, another spoonful of cherry-almond swirl left a sweetness on your tongue. the coldness sitting in your mouth faded away as you checked the clock again. robin looked at you as you raised your eyes toward the clock again.

“go.”

“what?” you said, only half paying attention, lost in your thoughts about a certain boy’s freckles.

robin dragged out your name with a playful impatience.

“go.” you furrowed your brow as she plunged the scoops ahoy’s grey shag of a mop into soapy water. “dude, it’s okay. i’m getting a ride from my mom. i don’t know who this is about, but if you look at the clock one more time i’ll never give you my blessing to be with them,” she said as she slapped the mop on the tiled floor.

you looked at robin, still chewing your lip, plastic spoon in hand. “you sure, robbie?” she flashed you a toothy smile. “promise, cherry,” she said with a wink. “don’t you dare call me that, buckley,” you said as you tossed your spoon and pulled on your cardigan. she cackled as you swung open the door, turning left toward the parking lot. you made a sharp right through the food court to get to the back of the mall. through the smudgy, glassy exterior, you could see steve’s face illuminated by the lights in his BMW. you took a calming, deep breath as you pushed through the doors. steve’s windows were open; you could hear music coming out (you could swear that it was the talking heads). you smiled unconsciously at his choice. maybe somewhere along the line, in between dusty, rotting alternate dimensions and “placid” morning car rides, he’d listened when you blabbered on about your favorite band.

he heard you approaching and suddenly straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “hey, cherry,” he said breathily. “hi,” you said plainly, still suspicious about this whole meetup. “i just want to say that i’m sorry,” he said. you looked at him unimpressed; after all, he did have quite a few things to apologize for.

“for that night, at the halloween party.” you caught his eyes when your head snapped to your left, a wide, pained look mirrored in your own irises. your silence scared him — he’d expected more yelling. he deserved it. he huffed out a tiny sigh, before speaking again: “i missed you. i missed having you around because cherry, i don’t hate you. i really don’t. our little arguments or whatever? those were the best part of my day. and then they stopped because i fucked up.”

you smiled at that, and he mirrored it: the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. he laughed a little, “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you and how i missed the smell of your cinnamon gum in my car.” your eyes were softer now, glistening with something between a kind forgiveness and an inkling of playfulness. “and then we got thrown into the upside down and didn’t really get to talk about it since, y’know, we could’ve died at any moment? and then i found myself still missing you, because all that wildness wasn’t enough.”

you let the sentence hang in the air before telling him, “i missed you too, harrington.”

you’d barely noticed that you and steve were drifting closer and closer together. you felt little puffs from his plump lips brush over your own pout. “cherry-” he started. “steve,” you pleaded, hands spreading across his chest. he pulled back a little, grabbing your hand gently when he saw hurt flash over your features. “i just want you to know that i’m not looking for anything serious.”

oh. of course.

he sucked in a breath through his teeth as your face hardened into steely ire. “i really loved nancy. i can’t get over her that quickly.” you pulled your hand from his. “but cherry, i can’t stop thinking about you. and that night, god. i just keep thinking about what i would’ve done to you if we hadn’t stopped.”

something heavy settled in the pit of your stomach, the feeling making its way into your core.

“show me,” you said.

he smiled that harrington smile before slotting his lips against yours again — deeper, frenzied, hungry, like he wanted to pull the taste of cherry-almond swirl from your mouth.

(“show me,” you had said. what you really meant was, “i’ll take any part of you that i can get.”)

you felt him harden in his jeans, his cock pressing up against the rigid seams. he hissed as you trailed your hand down his chest, toward his bulge. you looked up at him, eyes glittering and so sinfully innocent. you pressed a kiss over where his arousal was evident and his eyes rolled back in his head. “cherry, baby, honey. i could cum in my pants if you touch me like that one more time.” you smiled at that, delicate hands palming him gently, kissing his neck a pretty sea of pinks and reds, and reaching toward his zipper. “jesus, fuck. cherry,” he rasped as he pulled your head off of him by the back of your pretty locks. your neck was craned back as you looked into his dark hazel eyes. “are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked with a taunting lilt to his throaty voice. you nodded. he smirked. “words, cherry.” “yes, i’ll be your good girl, steve,” you said, hands already wandering, mouth watering at the thought of his scent, his cock, anything — all over you. he tutted at your ministrations, pulling you off of him once again. “good girls listen to directions,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk.

“bad girls don’t get to cum.”

his hand that was holding your head had changed position, reaching to grasp your chin between his fingers, squishing your cheeks a little.

“do you think you’ve been a good girl, cherry?”

you mumbled out a soft “no” around the restriction of his fingers.

he kissed you after you answered, a soft, plush press of his lips against yours. you tilted your head forward to get more from his mouth, more from him. but he pulled away and you whined. “you’ve been bad, cherry. so now i’m gonna fuck that pretty mouth,” he growled as your thighs clenched. it didn’t go unnoticed, and steve was not-so-secretly proud of himself that he got you flustered. “and if you touch yourself, you will be punished. got it?” he said, cementing his rules in you. at the talk of punishment, steve sobered up for a second.

“what’s our safeword gonna be, princess?”

“starcourt?” you suggested. he smiled.

“perfect. now, if you let me fuck your mouth and use you as my little cocksleeve, maybe you can cum,” he said so sweetly, as if he needed to wrap you around his finger more. you suckled at his neck as you unzipped his jeans, tugging impatiently to get them off. your mouth watered at the thought of his cock; it was probably pretty and red and leaking — all for you. his boxers were next. his cock sprang out of the confines of his boxers, slapping the leaking tip onto his stomach. he exhaled as the cooler air of the car hit his shaft. he held out his palm to you as you admired his length. “spit,” he commanded. you tucked your hair behind your ears and did as he instructed. he took his hand and used your spit to slick up his member. you only just realized just how big it was, biting your lip nervously. he noticed, of course. “what’s wrong, angel?” he said, reaching toward you to rub your lower back gently. “is it gonna fit in my mouth?” you pouted. you wanted it to. like, really wanted it to. he glowed at your innocent question. “it will eventually, baby. maybe not today, but someday soon.” his words seemed to comfort you and you happily took over stroking his shaft with your spit. he threw his head back against the headrest. “fuck, cherry. s’much better than i imagined. so much better.” now it was your turn to glow, thinking about steve fucking his fist in the shower, in his bed, to the thought of you, his childhood enemy. your body felt warm all over and so you took a leap, sponging an experimental peck onto his reddened tip. his hips jolted forward at your touch, causing your eyes to widen and you to pull back. “shit. sorry, honey. just can’t get enough of you,” he said with a gentle stroke to your head. “s’okay, stevie,” you replied sweetly, “wanna make you feel good.” you then bravely dove forward and slotted your mouth over his cock, swirling your tongue around the head and gagging as you took as much of him as you could. his eyes rolled back into his head and he threaded his fingers through your hair. “holy shit, cherry,” he said, “so good. so wet, so warm f’me.” once you figured out how to breathe through your nose, you slowly started bobbing your head up and down. you hollowed out your cheeks, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth (yet). on one of your little moves, your teeth grazed the underside of his cock, where a vein bulged. he hissed and you felt more precum spurt from his tip. you ran your tongue over it to soothe the sting your teeth left, worried that you’d made a mistake. but the unmistakable “fuck, just like that, cherry” from above you was enough to reassure you.

you pulled off for a breather, pressing wet, sloppy kisses up and down his length as you recovered. he was just about to ask if you were okay before you took initiative again, taking him further down your throat this time. he gasped and moaned and whimpered and you were in heaven. you were surrounded by him: his musk, his heavy balls gently held in your hands, the hard muscle of his thick, hairy thighs trapping your head. “can i hold your head, angel?” he asked you, ever so gently. you nodded while keeping yourself latched onto his cock, the heavy weight on your tongue oddly comforting. he gently grasped the back of your hair in one hand before thrusting his hips into your mouth, feeding his cock into your warm, wanton mouth. you gagged a little in surprise, but steve held your hair tighter and told you to just relax your throat. at his words, you did (well, you tried with a little whine), and he slipped in further. the spit that had gathered at the corners of your lips started to spill over as you attempted to take him all the way. you hadn’t expected yourself to be getting this wet over him getting off, but here you were, making a mess of your cotton panties as you sputtered choked, eyes glossy from tears. your throbbing pussy was visible through the sheerness of the fabric that your wetness had left. you pressed your thighs together to garner some relief for your poor pulsating cunt, but you remembered that if you were good, you’d get to cum too.

steve was thrusting into your mouth now, enraptured by the warmth of your wet tongue and swollen lips — the same mouth that he dreamed about kissing almost every night. he moaned above you at the sight of your spit-slicked lips, how your eyes were wide and dumb as he fucked your throat. "holy shit, cherry. my perfect little slut, such a good little whore f'me," he panted. you locked eyes with steve as his dick rapidly plunged in and out of your tight throat and at your heated gaze, he was cumming. hot, salty ropes hit the back of your throat. you made a little noise of satisfaction, humming around his shaft as your mouth filled with his seed. steve shot one last load into your mouth, groaning out your name — your real name — and collapsing, almost boneless in his seat. you pulled your mouth off of him, swallowing his load and giving the still-flushed head a soft kiss. he tasted salty and woody. you felt syrupy slick rush out of your fluttering hole at the taste left on your tongue. he ran a hand through his hair, cheeks red, still breathing heavily. “open your mouth,” he said, looking at you and tapping your cheek lightly. you did as he asked and stuck out your tongue for good measure. he gave a pleased hum when he saw your tongue dart out to lick a little bit of his seed that was left on the corner of your mouth. “good girl. you swallowed,” he said. you burned at his praise. "thank you, stevie," you said shyly. he bent down to sprinkle kisses across your face.

your cheeks glowed with arousal as his hand gently gripped the back of your neck, casually keeping you in the palm of his hand. he slanted his mouth over yours, swiping his tongue over your own and hummed when he tasted a remnant of himself in your waiting mouth. you smiled into the kiss, the vibrations tickling your pretty pout. he pulled back, his eyes and lips shining. suddenly he was pushing a hand through his hair and checking himself out in his rearview mirror. you looked at him, mouth pursed in confusion and discomfort at the pressure between your legs. “steve,” you whined. “what’s up, cherry baby?” he said as he gently buckled you in. “don’t i get to cum? i was so good,” you begged, grabbing his bicep between his smaller palms. the polyester of his scoops uniform shifted under your pawing hands as he extended his arm behind your headrest, tendons flexing as he reversed out of the parking lot.

“you were a good girl, but only after you had my cock in your mouth.”

so that was it? he wasn’t going to get you to your release? your mouth fell agape and you detached yourself from the boy, sliding back in your seat and watching hawkins speed by.

suddenly, you were pulling up to your house. your parents had left the foyer light on, keeping the entryway to your house bathed in its soft brilliance. it felt like déjà vu; you, flustered and exiting steve’s car after he’s been an asshole to you — yet again.

you resolved to never see him again as you cursed yourself for thinking he’d changed. but this time, he gently tugged you to him, saying your name quietly, and lifting your chin up to tilt your precious face toward his. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, one that filled the small space of his car with your deep inhale. you decided that this was your favorite kiss with him that you’d ever had. you looked at him with little hearts in your eyes as he smoothed your wildly messy hair back. he smiled at you, gently purring “don’t you dare touch yourself tonight.” you opened your mouth defiantly at his orders. he shushed you with a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that left you wanting more. “i’ll know if you do,” he said with a wink.

and you knew that you’d definitely be seeing him again.

you did cum that next day. three times to be exact; once on his fingers, once in his mouth, and once on his cock. he’d looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, asking you if he'd made it up to you. you nodded blearily, desperate to get his tongue on your hot core once again.

but whatever summer love, saying “us” moments you had, had very quickly become much deeper. you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you two were playing house after a sleepover at steve’s. you’d walked downstairs to see him swaying gently, nursing a cup of coffee in his boxers. you were wearing one of his old basketball t-shirts: sun-faded and soft and steve. he gave you a lazy smile as he dropped a kiss on your mouth, tasting of the vanilla creamer he swore he kept around “just for you, cherry. that shit’s disgusting.” you wrapped your arms around him; he sighed against your mouth as your fingertips began to rub his lower back with such care, such sweetness. “morning, stevie,” you said through a delicate yawn. ““mm mornin’ cherry,” he said, dipping down to leave a smattering of kisses across your neck and clavicle as you held each other in the sun-soaked kitchen. you silently wished to yourself that the two of you would stay like this, preserved in a memory forever. that you wouldn’t have to return to the world where you “hated” each other. that you could live together in a house of your own, with your own rich coffee scent filling the ground floor, without the upside down. your eyes snapped open at your wandering thoughts. no, you told yourself, it's steve. of course he ate you out on the kitchen floor before bending you over the counter. and of course, in the afterglow as you laid atop the cool tile, you just had to realize that you loved steve harrington.

“always so good f’me,” he rumbled, tracing his blunt nails on your back, raising goosebumps on his path. you looked into his cinnamon eyes, absorbing the ring of mossy green around his irises.

“anything for you, stevie,” you cooed, putting a veil of satin over your voice to mask the churning of your emotions.

“careful, cherry. i might start thinking that you’ve got a crush on me.”

oh, he had no idea.

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catiuskaa · 1 year

Note

Bestie, am taking revenge :D (not really)

Dropping here to make your fist request too! Let's do the same idea and see what happens :3

Bang Chan flirty rivals/crushes to lovers + dancing

Let's see how it works :]

Bring it on babes >:]

Level up: fencing for dummies. [Someone’s icy heart melted!]

CW: soulmate AU (past life kinda deal but it's a mess) mentions of anxiety (take care besties), swords (better wATCH OUT), swearing, there’s this dude who’s just a prick (so kinda annoying), angst if you blink too fast, I’d say its all but if y’all see smth I missed PLEASE MENTION IT<3

WC: 3.7K

side-note: so I came up with this ‘Lee Soomun’ guy and just in case, if he turns out to be someone who’s real, he’s totally unrelated to this content of fiction, as well as our dearest Channie and the fellow teletubbies StrayKids as a whole.

side note 2: flashback + dialogs included will be written like so :)

[☆☆⚔️☆☆]

Shit. That didn't feel good. What did this even mean?

You sighed, getting angry at yourself. Was it already? Would this be the time that, like your pent-up anxiety sometimes whispered, the day you would finally go down in history as the world’s biggest idiot?

Close, but not just yet. Let’s get back to when the disaster initiated.

You shook your head sideways, shoving unwanted thoughts about the person in front of you to someplace far away in your mind, wanting to fight without emotions taking the best of you. You put back on your fencing helmet.

Striking the straightest pose your back could handle, you faced your rival.

Christopher Bang. ‘Chan’ for his mates.

Fencing, top class. Majored in music, again, top class in most of the career’s subjects. At 23, he played more instruments than you could remember, and between his job (one that you hadn’t found out) and fencing, you’ve heard he still produces music on the side with some people.

Yeah. But you didn’t care much. Nope.

You disliked the man. Why? He was rich. Stick-stuck-up-in-his-ass level of rich. And he used it. Not like you could prove it, but you still believed that he, along with the other wealthy members of the old fencing club, were paying for victories to the referees in competitions.

No wonder they were all so nice to him.

You couldn’t complain about it, though. These people had basically sustained the entire club for years, and, surprise surprise, there was no way you could pay for the expenses the club required. The coach could think likewise, but when Chan was named, he would always pick his side and run away before you could even react.

To be honest, Chan wasn’t your favourite person.

You hated his cockiness, how he teased and invaded your personal space, wandering about and spitting whatever thought he could come up with. It was much easier to not pry on why he annoyed you, not wanting to know if he just bothered you because he could, meaning that making him stop would be thrice as tough.

Or worse, that he hated your guts. Unfair from your side, ok, but when you first met, you were stupidly hoping to acquire a solid friendship, someone you could count on to have your back, someone whose skills you admired. It felt like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Banter and teasing lines were thrown, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you, but when you saw a pretty girl entering the locker rooms with him that day, your heart cracked a bit.

He made you remember that whatever could happen between you two, he could make it happen in a flash with anybody, anytime. He had all the money and skills anyone could wish for.

And he knew it.

“Scared I might pinch you, buttercup?” He said, his helmet resting on his head and striking more of a suggestive pose than a defensive stance.

“I’d suggest you watch out. I might just stick this sword up your refined ass, Mr Bang,” you snickered, not sounding as playful as he had, the nickname rolling off your tongue before you could rethink it.

Chuckling, he prepared his pose, sword ready for any attack or defence when he nodded to the referee, ready to start.

Seungmin signalled, and the combat started. Sounds of the material of the swords clicking reverberated in the old building, along with the others from the remaining fights other students were having.

You tried looking for weak spots, aiming here and there in hopes of finding something, when instead, he grinned, a Chesire-like smile on his features as the tip of his épée touched your ribs.

Fuck.

Before you could notice, you were already falling behind.

“13-12. Next round,” Seungmin stated, waiting for both of you to return to your positions.

You stood as calmly as you could in fourth position as he came to attack right after signalled, surprising enough for you to be too late.

Or so he thought, because for some reason, through the masks that protected your faces, he felt your stare burn right into him.

Moving turned to a less crucial problem because the criminal violence that was suddenly happening in his body made Chris extremely confused and awkwardly flustered. He could picture those so-called ‘butterflies’ people often talked about being destroyed by some flamethrowers.

That’s the intensity I’m talking about.

With him frozen, you stopped for a second, wondering if he could’ve stepped wrong or if something had happened. You wouldn’t play an unfair fight just for the sake of mere decency. You felt a deep sensation trailing up and down your body, which awakened you enough to counterattack.

“Match point,” the referee managed to add.

Seungmin was perplexed, to say less. He had been a referee on several duels between you two and separately and never had seen such a quick build-up of a mysterious tension that magically appeared out of the blue. It was no secret to you, one of his closest friends in the club, that he was 100% sure you’d end up befriending Chris, but this?

Damn, he was proud of his intuition. Something was happening, and he had first-row seats!

“Hey, you ok?” You murmured low enough for Seungmin to not notice, approaching Chan just for him to realize how close you were and blush right away.

“D-duh.” He mumbled. You frowned.

Seungmin gave Chan a look before starting the following round. You couldn’t miss how his attacks looked weaker, his defence opening in front of you like a walk-in closet, his overall control getting smaller and smaller.

“13-14.”

You were… actually? Scratch that. You couldn’t really word it, but an anxious feeling crept inside you.

You were winning. Against Mr Bang Chan.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? No teasing, no flirty comments? He couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t just let you win, right?

That would be an ugly ass move from his side.

But unbeknownst to you, his side dealt with plenty of other issues.

Sudden flashes of unlived memories with a certain someone popped into his head.

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Can I sit on your lap till you’re done…?”

“You’re so beautiful it's breathtaking.”

“What’s a place like this doing around a pretty boy like you?”

“Shh, you’re safe, my love. You’re strong, plus I’m with you, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, c’monnn…! Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Uh?” His eyes almost watered, equally astonished as scared, because what were those memories? How could they be there?

“Did something happen?” You whispered, baffled as to why he had lost all the cockiness in his manner and tone, sounding defenceless, like a small child.

“N-no? I think I just…”

Chris froze. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, I know you sorta hate my guts, but I suddenly feel like you’re the love of my life…?”

Because that sounded perfect. He almost snickered. What the fuck was going on?

“Guys,” Seungmin interrupted with a warning tone.

He hated to be that guy, but flirting in front of the building owner and the coach wouldn’t look too great on the club’s side.

You and Chan stepped out of the tense bubble that formed around you. Quickly, you took off your protective gear and smiled warmly at the two persons.

Chris’ chest tightened, his heart skipped a beat.

Since when did he find you… so…?

“Cute.” He whispered, before realizing his surroundings and quickly taking off his helmet too.

“Good morning,” Coach greeted kindly, to which you both smiled. “I’m guessing both of you have already met Mrs Delaney.”

“Of course, Mike.” She smiled, small wrinkles appearing in her eyes. “Glad to see you fencing.”

You felt a stone on your stomach when you quickly noticed how she stared at Chris, much different to when she looked at you. You hated that.

Chan smiled awkwardly. The last thing he needed right now was someone who looked at him like a sexy, filled-to-the-brim bank account. Fuck that.

“Is there any reason as to why you’re here?” Seungmin questioned, curious.

Mrs Delaney smiled. “ I was speaking to Mike about organizing a fencing competition as fundraising. It’s getting trickier to maintain this building, plus it could attract more members to the club. And you two are the star athletes, so what do you think?”

You blinked, surprised that she had acknowledged your presence and valued it as much as your opinion. It was evident she was there for the money, but let’s be realistic. You would do something similar in her situation.

“I’m up for it. That sounds fun.” You simply stated, not wanting to annoy the woman with anything else so she wouldn’t stare at your soul meanly again.

Chan gave you a look, then shrugged. “Why not. But I think that the more the merrier, so why not put up an add?”

Mrs Delaney’s eyes sparkled. “Such an inteligent young man. I’ll make one right away.”

Coach and her eventually left, but you felt a shiver run up and down you back when her last words before exiting were “See you next week, good luck!”

“Not to throw anyone under the bus, but I’m not the one explaining that to the rest of the club,” Seungmin flew away.

“Good luck then, Mr Bang!” You laughed teasingly as you left with your friend.

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m telling you, either he stubbed his toe with thin air or his muscles were cut with an invisible thread,” he slurped his noodles, concentrating on his explanation.

Kim Seungmin wouldn’t need to go to military service because he sure served in every scenario in his life.

“Guys like Chan don’t just freeze during a fight, girl. I’m surprised you’re not all ‘panties in a bunch’ about it.”

You deadpanned. “Ok, gross. One more of those, and I’ll puke my fried chicken.”

“But actually, why, though? Do you owe me money?” He grinned.

“You owe me. I’m winning that bet cause there’s no way in hell that Chan and I can get along. But, just look at him.”

Seungmin turned around shamelessly, staring at the dining table Chan’s friend group had picked. He was laughing at some joke you hadn’t caught, allowing you to notice his dimples. Cute.

Another intense shiver gave you chills.

"If that's supposed to be a hate stare, I'm going to start thinking my landlord is in love with me," Kim laughed cruelly.

"What? Shut up! Your landlord is such a bitch, don't even try." You threw bread crumbs at him, giggling. "Besides, me, in love with him?" You couldn't hold back looking at him again, in some way that felt different than before, and perhaps it would be the first time of many because you liked what you saw. The man's beautiful brown eyes focused on you, his brown hair naturally curly for a change, a bit shorter, enough so that exposed the white and sensitive skin of his neck, and although from the angle where you were standing, you couldn't see him fully, you felt amazed.

Shutting down. Rebooting.

"I mean, look at the way he slurps up his soup. What an asshole."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

The competition had arrived before you could notice. Several members had signed in, and the crowd felt bigger than on its opening day. You sighed, nervous. The semi-finals were today, so of course, several curious people would pop their heads to see what all the noise was for. For even more spice to your mood, your opponent wasn't 'Mr Bang' yet, but someone who was even more unbearable than him.

Lee Soomun.

He had no discernible personality, but if you had to say anything about him, the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of the rich gang is that the stick up his ass would probably be the thickest.

You tightened your fist around your épée, the fencing sword, and stared at it blankly.

"Hey, you are up next," A guy named Felix mentioned, his voice as deep as anyone could imagine. "Go there and make him shut his stupid ass mouth for once."

You high-fived him. "You bet."

Getting out of the locker room, a silhouette suddenly appeared in your way.

You sighed. "Do you mind?"

He smiled sheepishly, showing his stupidly cute dimples. "Mind? In my mind? You, all day, all night."

You weren't sure if that made sense or not. You frowned. "Well, I fucking mind." You almost walked past him when he grabbed your arm in a gentle yet decisive move.

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

You were frozen. The fact that your surname had been mentioned by him, who you doubted even cared enough to remember... only his cold tone made you wake up again. You scoffed, shrugging him off in hopes to regain your lost focus.

"I know how to fence, dummy, but thanks for the pro tip."

He stared at your back as you walked away.

"Oh, fresh meat,” your opponent greeted.

Lee Soomun.

You may dislike Chan, but this guy was even worse.

"How many points should I let you have so you get your hopes up?" His snicker could've made you sick. "Seven? Nine? Oh, maybe you've never reached so many points in one fight..." He gave you a condescending look that was so infuriating. "Let's agree on six, then."

Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

The referee settled on his place, and you both stood en guarde.

The fight started. You weren’t holding back, you were trying your best right from the start.

But it just wasn’t working.

You were on your second minute-long break, and if the score didn’t change in three minutes…

“10-6”

Then you were going to lose. Game over.

The referee called you back to your spots. You felt pressure on your shoulders, the grip in your épée felt weak, and the mask felt heavy.

“Yun!”

Your body stiffened. You looked towards the source of the sound, confused to see Chris, who was entering his last round for the day.

What? Chan couldn’t just forget that screaming in a fencing fight was considered really rude.

But his raspy voice that said your surname so differently from others had made you aware and catious of your surroundings, his words repeating in your head.

What could he have noticed that was important enough for him to say it?

You shook your head sideways, in hopes of getting out of your anxious state and slowing down your heart rate. The referee called you up again, and you faced your opponent again.

“I told you. No more than six. So be good, yeah?” His tone made you feel repulsively small. You hated it.

You stood en guarde when suddenly you felt a stare piercing into you. It made your entire body shiver, and the rush was so intense you couldn’t even think about the fight anymore.

You felt heat hit you in your face, and the sudden intense emotions made you too dizzy to react before Soomun’s sword was right in front of you.

And just when you thought you had almost seen it touch your chest-

Wait, what?

It… didn’t.

You moved suddenly, facing the scoreboard.

Why did it score?

“But I wasn’t touched,” you whispered.

He laughed, a rather menacing sound coming from him.

And in that moment, something clicked. That’s what Chris was trying to tell you before.

He had a rigged épée.

You see, with electric épée fencing, which was the chosen one for the competition, scoring is done in the following manner: the tip of the épée has a push button on it with wiring that, when combined with the wiring on the body cord and box of the opponent, would form a circuit, which would then signal that a hit has occurred. But what Soomun had probably done was to rig his épée so that he could close the circuit himself. But how…?

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

Of course.

He probably had some pressure-related device hidden in the grip of his épée whenever he would appear as though he got close enough to an opponent to register a hit then it would count as a hit.

He was cheating.

“12-6.”

And he was fucking winning.

Anger stroke you through your veins. You couldn’t deal with is. You weren’t going to lose against some cheater, you didn’t care who was going under the bus because of him because it wouldn’t be you.

That was your motto during the fight, but then, weird memories started appearing in your head.

“Mmm... your hands are warm."

"You're such a tease..."

"I'm not flirting... or am I?"

"I really can't get you out of my head."

"Kiss me."

"If you stick your tongue at me again, you might as well be prepared to use it."

"Who did this to you?"

The confusion hit you hard, an impulse making you shiver in a sudden motion.

"12-7."

You had scrunched your eyes in hopes of understanding what was going on in your head. You opened them in a sudden motion.

You had fucking scored? Holy shit. Holy shit!

You smiled, feeling the anxiety's pressure lighten on your shoulders, a piercing stare that could have burned holes in your mask, not even having any sort of effect over it.

"You had one instruction."

You couldn't see his expression because of the mask on his face, but solely his voice made you tremble.

No. It wasn't anxiety now.

That thing you were feeling as soon as the next round started was pure fear.

And it was seconded when not only was he one point away from winning but, when in a dirty move, he made you stumble in your stance, faking another touch.

"15-7."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, the bitter taste of knowing you had lost because the contrary cheated felt worse than ever. The match had ended.

Game over.

You both had to step out of the competition place together. He took his mask off and smiled gently.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in a mocking tone.

Asshole. He had gotten closer on purpose, which made you stumble in the first place.

"Not as much as how it must hurt your mother to feel your disgusting presence." You murmured, a sentence filled with poison.

He frowned, angry again. "I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

But suddenly, he took a quick glance behind you to just tsk and smile a cruel, dirty-rotten smile. "Have fun!"

Fuck him. Fuck him.

You walked back to the most hidden corner of the locker room. Everyone was outside, probably celebrating with whoever they believed would be the champion of tomorrow's finals.

Then, the door opened quietly. A silhouette with broad shoulders approached your sulky corner in small steps and silently sat close to you. You hugged your knees close to your chest, tearing up silently, feeling somewhat mocked.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked in the softest, most soothing tone you've heard in a while.

You turned to face him with red, watery eyes that made Chris' heart tighten in his chest.

Instead of doing what his heart was screaming, he had to ask again.

"Do you want me out?"

When there was no response, he sighed and stood, ready to let you cope however you wanted, respecting your decision.

But he hadn't walked even two steps to the door when he felt a hand on his forearm, your sobbing not silent anymore.

"You won't laugh, right?" You whispered in between your cries.

His presence had felt like a sun ray shining through a snowstorm. Just by standing close to you, his sweet tone of voice almost lulling you to sleep, he made everything suck less.

Fuck, since when were you both so screwed?

He held you close, in the warmest embrace you had felt in a long time, so much that it allowed you to break into pieces in his arms, knowing that just by his side, you would be able to reassemble.

"It's ok, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you." Chris didn't know what to say, his hand mechanically running calming strokes through your hair.

After you had calmed down, still in the same position, you mustered your courage to ask what had been on your mind for a while.

"Why did you tell me about his rigged sword? And why be here, with me crying in some old locker room?"

Chan sighed. "I know... we have never been close, but I still worry about you. Maybe I have that because I always have taken care of my sister, but I care about everyone that I love." He shrugged, and you blinked.

God, a fucking sister. Of course. You felt so stupid.

He continued. " I thought you would've done the same if it was me, and I would have wanted to know. No one deserves to be left alone, princess." He explained, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could rethink it.

You snuggled closer to him in a silent motion. He smiled sheepishly as he kissed the top of your forehead.

He gently swiped away your tears.

"I suck."

"You certainly do not, princess. It's not bad to cry. It proves how strong you have been." He said, tracing soft shapes on the back of your hand until he raised it and kissed your palm. You left it there, cupping his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. You smiled too.

"Princess, I think...?"

You interrupted him and gave him a small peck on his lips. You laughed as he stared at you wide-eyed. You grabbed his hand and stood, but he just kept looking at you from below.

"Get up, silly."

He smiled, grateful that you had cheered up.

"Is this kidnapping?" He joked.

"No. Let me grab my stuff and get changed."

"I'm scared."

You giggled. "You should be. I'm taking us both on a date."

"Where?"

"At this time, I would just go to my roommate's dance studio... care to join?"

He smiled, kinda excited. "If you insist..."

~Kats, who is currently procrastinating five different projects, all due this week.

@iszaranothere because your absolute genius prompt list came right through a block like idek but tysm it made me laugh a lot T-T<3

P.D I KNOW THERE IS NO DANCING BUT YK LETS COUNT THE SWORD FIGHT AS A CHOREO + HC THAT THEY DANCED IN THE DATE LIKE IK IK BUT IT WAS TOO LONG ALREADY I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #soft hours #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #answered #first ask #chris bang #skz bang chan

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ashes-writing · 1 year

Text

stranger things ● forever, pt 2 ● s.harrington

warnings

{ part 1 } <- can be found by clicking. everything else I've started will be updated asap. this just grabbed hold and i had to lean into it, that's why there are two updates for it in one day.

Angst, hurt comfort, internal angst (because reader/you and Steve apparently love to overthink fucking everything), baby talk (your kid is 3. she's still grasping speech.), so much dad!steve fluff omg, robin has a crush and might get the girl, (Barb. it's barb and i am fully prepared to die all alone on this hill.), small town judgment and rumors and shit ( if curious.. this has both to do with eventual Robin/Barb and also bc stevie, in my mind, looks like she could be steve's actual daughter bc drama ), huge changes to seasons 1 thru 4 (Everyone but Jason lives, Max is not in between life or death, Billy's brush with death has redeemed him.. slightly, starcourt is rebuilt, the portal to the upside down is closed PERMANENTLY), vaguely hinted at that Vecna may have mentally tortured Steve and it may have gotten in his head a little when Vecna 'attacked' his mind in my version of events for this, alcohol/smoking mentions, eventual filth (probably gonna have Steve's known breeding k*nk front and center, fwiw.), swearing, arguing, roommates trope eventually, slow burn (as slow as I can tolerate tbh ), reader has not had a very good life prior to Hawkins, ( more will come on that later trust me )

Reader/you are Robin Buckley's cousin. Reader/You was born female and you identify as female with female parts and a 3 year old daughter named Stevie and reader/you have personality + a past and backstory. This is self indulgent and I do not apologize.

word count

5302 exactly. I uh.. got carried away.

summary

Robin thinks what you’ve just said is hilarious and she’s doubled over laughing as she pauses to look at you and shake her head. “You don’t know Steve. Trust me. This will not get annoying for him. And anyway,” Robin rolls onto her stomach and looks at you, “He likes her.”

aka, the one in which Robin -and Steve also Barb watch Stevie while you try to interview for a job.

taglist + shoutouts

-- taglist is here. if you wish to be added click the bolded part to be taken to it. if you're here for eddie/gareth or other guys from ST and don't want to be tagged please let me know.

@allelitesmut

@chaoticcancer - just wait. my heart was also like ahhhh.. writing these two parts. I really hope you like this, thank you for reading!

@caravelofthesun

@dylanwritesgood

@eddiemuns0nl0ver

@just-a-blue-nerd

@music4life42

@slyisbehindyou

@spaceconveyor

@tbmunson bestie. babe. babesss. i had to do this okay? we needed it. and i proceeded to go ham. oopsies.

other links

masterlist ● steve's masterlist ● about + rules

TWO

You must've put in an application at every place imaginable all over town. It's been a week and the phone lines have been silent. You're starting to wonder if you'll get any callbacks.

"Will you relax? Someone will call, okay?" Robin speaks up from the doorway of her room. You sink down to sit on the bed. "I'm seriously having my doubts."

"They will." Robin is unwrapping a bomb pop and holding it out to Stevie. Stevie takes it and climbs up onto your lap. You grimace at her reddened shoulders from an afternoon spent in the kiddie end of Hawkins pool and she leans back against you as Robin leans forward to hit play on yet another movie Steve Harrington rented for your daughter. Tonight it's Alice in Wonderland and as the opening credits roll, you're surprised to find yourself wondering what he's doing at the moment. It's a thought quickly buried as deep as you can.

As Alice finds herself in Wonderland on the television screen, your aunt's landline rings and you slip off the couch so Stevie goes to sit in Robin's lap. Until she remembers the glittery 'picture' she drew earlier and goes to get them both because she's made one for Steve too, a little thank you for being so nice to her when she knows she might be annoying at times.

"Who's this one for?" Robin asks, looking at the squiggles, circles and squares covered in glitter and drawn in vibrant red marker beneath. The purple glitter is falling off the page, settling on Robin’s bed.

"Steve. I make him dragon. Only he doesn't breathe fire, he breathes toasts."

Robin laughs and smiles. "I see that. I'm gonna put mine right here. On my bulletin board." She hugs Stevie again and Stevie is hugging back, playing with her hair.

"'Kay!" Stevie laughs, looking up at Robin. “I like Steve. He’s sooooo nice.”

“Oh you do, huh?” Robin laughs again. Stevie nods.

You wander back in and Robin speaks up. “Well?”

“That was the secretary job I applied for? I’m a ‘risk’ but they’re willing to give me a shot?” you’re still a little shocked because when you applied for the secretary position at some office in town, they were literally the last stop. You didn’t think they’d even look at your application, let alone hire you. “They want me to come in for face to face interviews tomorrow.”

Then it hits you. Your aunt Janet has to work. “Shit.”

“What?”

“I can’t, Robin.. Your mom has to work.”

“And?”

“And, I can’t take Stevie. I also can’t leave her alone.” you bite your lip as you mull it over.

Robin speaks up. “I’ll take her to Family Video with me. I’ve got a shorter shift tomorrow and it’s gonna be slow as hell anyway.”

“Robin…” you eye her warily.

“I’ll take her.” Robin repeats, firmer. “It’ll be fun. Won’t it, Stevie?” Robin gazes down at Stevie. “A little help here?” she asks, fluffing Stevie’s hair. Stevie is nodding. “Please, mama? I be so good.”

“Okay, sweetie, but aunt Robin is working. You have to be a good girl.”

Robin laughs. “Relax. She’s an angel.” she looks over at you and now both of them are begging.

“Okay, alright. Fine. The second I have money again I’ll pay–” you start to tell Robin you’ll pay her but she’s already shaking her head. “You’re not. I wanted to do it.”

“Okay, but.. For whatever reason, she’s attached to your friend. It might get annoying, Robin.” you point out after turning your attention back to the television for a few minutes and having a little more time to think about it. You’re grasping at straws because you’re already seeing Stevie form a little bit of an attachment to Robin’s best friend slash co-worker and you’re just so afraid that sooner or later, the novelty is going to wear off for the guy, leaving your little girl heartbroken and missing something she’s never actually had and most likely never will.

A father.

“Yeah. Now, in theory, when he only has to deal with her a few minutes here and a few there. A whole day with her underfoot is different.” you take a deep breath. “I’m just..”

“I get it. You don’t want Stevie to get too attached.” Robin mumbles quietly, nodding in agreement. “You need the job, right?”

“Well, yeah, I’d like to find an apartment sooner or later. I’d like to be able to do things for Stevie..” you trail off, letting the rest of your sentence go unsaid. Because Robin knows exactly how awful your mom was now, the two of you had a really long talk recently. You finally told her everything that’s been going on, full honesty. Instead of letting her believe everything was fine like you’d done before.

Robin nods. A grim look on her face as she shakes her head. “I wish you’d told me and Mom everything way sooner.”

“I didn’t want you guys to worry.” you answer, going quiet. “Okay, alright. Don’t let her annoy him, please?” you give Robin a pleading look and Robin nods. “I’m telling you though,” she insists, “Stevie is not annoying to him. Like… not even a little.”

“Robin.” you laugh and shake your head. “He’s probably got an image or something.”

“Yeah, as a giant dingus.” Robin states, laughing. “I know what you’re thinking. Just stop overthinking already, okay? Steve Harrington is a good guy. He’s not going to treat her like dirt because she’s three.”

You blow at damp strands as they fall down into your eyes. “I just.. She’s never really like.. Attached herself to a person like this before.”

“Could have everything to do with her mommy being stingy.” Robin teases gently, laughing as she looks up at you. Stevie wanders back in with a yogurt cup and spoon. Robin reaches out, pulling her up before you even get the chance. “Guess what, sparkles?”

“Yeah?”

“Your mom finally gave in. We win. You can come to work with me tomorrow.” Robin and Stevie share a laugh and Robin takes Stevie’s spoon and takes a bite of yogurt for herself. “We can watch movies all day.”

“Yay!” Stevie claps her hands together in excitement. “Will my fwiend be there?”

Robin laughs softly. You tense up slightly. Look at your daughter with a soft smile as you warn, “Sweetie, you don’t need to bother him too much, okay?”

“Otay.” Stevie nods. But she has no intention of listening because she likes being around Steve. He’s nice. Really nice. And he gives her piggyback rides sometimes. He tells her stories about dinosaurs and some weird thing called basketball that he used to play and really likes a lot. He showed her how to tie her favorite purple sneaker earlier when he dropped off her aunt Robin after work, because her shoe was untied and he said he didn’t want her to fall on her face.

CONTINUED

The morning comes too early. And it’s off to a not so good start. You’re rushing around because you forgot to set an alarm the night before, and the button’s popped off the only ‘suitable’ shirt you own for an interview.

Stevie’s missing her shoe and she can’t find her current favorite stuffed animal, a stuffed husky that Robin won out of the claw machine outside of Big Buy when they went in to pick up groceries for your aunt Janet. So she’s upset. Robin spots the shoe and holds it up. “Aha! I knew it was in here somewhere!”

“Fank you!” Stevie throws her arms around Robin’s neck. Robin grabs the hair brush from her dresser and motions for Stevie to sit in front of her. You laugh. “She’s tender-headed.” you warn as you flip over your own hair and try to make something out of the wild and thick mess of curls you have going on now, no thanks to your old reliable blow dryer quitting earlier. You’re in the midst of scrunching your hair to create a more defined curl pattern when Stevie wanders over, bending down to look up at you through a curtain of hair. “Mama! Mama, your skirt dirty.”

“Shit.” you say it without stopping to think and just as Stevie looks as if she’ll repeat it, you tack on quickly, “Mommy didn’t mean t’ say that, cupcake. You’re still a baby. That’s an adult word.”

“I know.” Stevie answers, giggling. “It sound funny.”

“It’s not, though.” you smile at your daughter and laugh softly. “You’ll let your aunt Robin braid your hair but you won’t let me? I might cry.”

“Don’t, mama. It’s just aunt Wobin do it better!”

You pout a little, flipping your hair over to stand and look in the mirror. Robin notices the stain on your skirt too and nods to your aunt’s room across the hall. “My mom’s got a suit or something? I think?”

You nod. After digging through your suitcase, you happen to find a modest -and totally shapeless, t shirt style black dress, you grab that and rush down the hall into the bathroom of the trailer to change.

“This looks like I’m wearing a trash bag. If I wind up working at this place I’m gonna have to get dressier stuff.” you wrinkle your nose at the thought. Because it’s money you don’t want to have to spend, but if you could luck into getting this secretary job, you’d be thrilled because it’ll be more money than you’ve ever made at once before.

And the job actually has insurance.

Robin’s friend Barb pulls to a stop outside and Robin’s giddy, laughing and smiling as if she could float. She drops a quick kiss to Stevie’s head and hugs you, lingering in the doorway. “I’ll see you in a little bit!”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah!”

After Robin’s gone, you scramble some eggs and squeeze an orange to make some juice for Stevie and as she eats ketchup covered scrambled eggs and a piece of fried ham, you try to finish getting ready.

You hate the shapeless dress, it’s one of your least favorite articles of clothing and even adding a belt to it doesn’t do anything to make it look better. You laugh at yourself in your cousin’s full length mirror on the back of her closet door and you toss the belt at your open suitcase on the bed. “Just get it over with. You’re probably not getting the job anyway, they said you were a risk to hire.”

Stevie’s sitting on the floor watching you. “We go, mama?”

“Yeah, we should get going,cupcake. Turn off the tv.”

Stevie pushes the button to turn off the television atop the dresser at the foot of Robin’s bed and you scoop her up,carrying her out. As the two of you walk out of the trailer, the girl with red hair is outside skateboarding again.

Stevie gives her a wave and the redhead waves back, quick to turn back to her skateboarding. The muscular blond with the mullet is leaned in the open door again, you can feel him staring. When he grins at you, cigarette smoke billowing out of his mouth, you manage a stiff wave and turn your attention to getting Stevie fastened into her car seat.

It’s a hard pass on the guy for you. He’s exactly the type of guy who fathered Stevie when you were 17. You are not going down that road again. And as you slip into the driver seat, a thought pops up out of nowhere. Surprises you a little when it does.

,, he’s not as handsome as Steve Harrington, either.” and as soon as this thought rises, you’re quick to shove it back down.

He’s definitely not an option.. You know, if you were even considering anything. The last thing any guy your age is going to want is to get a package deal and you’re just not willing to settle for anybody who won’t love and cherish your little girl as much as you do.

As you drive into town, you hum along with the radio, watch as the tree lined blacktop turns to buildings and houses. You pull to a stop in the parking lot of Family Video right around the same time that Robin and her friend Barb are pulling to a stop. You watch as Barb leans in closer to your cousin and you smile softly to yourself.

Robin mentioned someone in her letters around Valentines Day. You’re wondering if Barb might be the girl she mentioned. You hope so, because the way Barb looks at your cousin when she’s not looking is the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen with your own eyes, hands down. Robin spots you as the two pull away from their super close conversation and she grins brightly, waving.

As Robin and Barb wander over, Stevie’s already grumbling as she fusses with the way her upper harness in the seat likes to hang up. “I just wanna get out! Stupit buckle.” as she fumes and keeps trying to work with it, you lean over and unfasten it. Gently caressing her chubby little cheeks as you look into big brown eyes. “Mama will be back later to get you, alright? Be a good girl for aunt Robin.” you go quiet, adding a second later, “And don’t bother Steve so much when he’s working, please?”

“But mama..”

“Stevie Robin..” you using her first and middle name has the desired effect, but she’s pouting and not happy about it. “Otay! I try not to bother him! But if he wants t’ play, I not stop him.”

You laugh softly and press a kiss to her hairline. As Robin opens the door and scoops up Stevie, she’s laughing. “Ready for a big adventure, sparkles?”

“Uh-huh!” she laughs and smiles, hugging against Robin. One of her braids is already trying to come undone. You smile at Barb. She smiles back as she reaches for the old backpack you use to keep everything Stevie needs inside when you have to leave her with sitters and you fight down the usual guilt that comes rushing up when you’re thinking about just how well used that backpack is by now and how it means you hardly get to spend any time with your daughter like you always dreamed you would when you were little.

The time your own mother refused to spend with you.. Unless, of course, she took you along with her to try and ply single men by playing the single mom who needs sooooo much help card.

“She’ll be fine, ___.” Robin’s gentle teasing and the reassuring grin she gives you has you nodding. Smiling at her even though leaving Stevie with them while you go off for an interview is the last thing you want to be doing.

You’d rather be spending all day with your little girl. Making a blanket fort in the living room of your house. Making crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as you both lie around, you reading her book of Grimms fairytales to her. Cuddling. Until the man you love comes in from work, where you’d have a nice home cooked meal, not something frozen or canned or even burned beyond recognition.. The life you didn’t have and always longed for as a kid.

,, you really need to accept the fact that this is your reality. Unless you want to turn into her, parading an endless string of faceless and nameless ‘uncles’ in and out of your life, always leaving you hurt and confused when they were gone and she was mean and bitter all over again.” the thought comes and you shove it out.

You watch as the three of them disappear into the video store, door banging shut behind them. And then you put your car into drive and pull out, merging with traffic. Journey is playing on the radio so you hum along and you hope it’ll distract you from a full to bursting mind. You’re just focused on doing your absolute best at this interview. Because you have to get money coming in somehow.

CONTINUED

Steve’s flipping through the channels on the old tv set that sits down on the counter out of sight. His legs are reclined and he’s just.. Fighting the urge to pass out from exhaustion.

To say sleeping through a full night since March has been a struggle would be a gross understatement. It’s been literal hell on Earth for him because every time he starts to doze, he can feel the earth rumbling beneath him. The sensation of free falling and then a hard thud as he connects with solid. And then he can hear Vecna’s evil laugh all over again. The way Vecna forced him to watch his worst fears and deepest secrets play out in front of him just to torture him. He had to watch everyone move on and leave him behind. He had to watch as his parents just went on with life as normal after his ‘death’, totally unaffected. He had to hear every single dark thing he’s ever thought or felt but never given a voice to, on repeat.

It’s not until his alarm’s going off every morning that the torment stops as Comfortably Numb starts to play and brings him rushing out, into another long day.

It was the same this morning and yet somehow, it wasn’t. Because Robin let it slip that Stevie was going to spend the day with them while you were interviewing at one of the offices in town for a secretary position. And somehow, knowing the little girl was going to be around to distract him all day just made things a little better.

She’s eating gummy bears that Robin and Barb stopped at the gas station in town to buy her as she makes her way over to him and motions for him to pick her up. “Tell me more about baske..About the game.” Stevie asks, holding out her bag of gummy bears to Steve as she smiles. “I wanna play too.”

Steve chuckles.

“Hang on, little bit.” he reaches for the remote, “Maybe there’s a warm up game on or a replay.” he flips through stations until he finds the channel he’s looking for. “That’s basketball.” he nods to a replay of an old Bulls game. “I used to play in high school.”

Stevie’s eyes fix on the television and she holds the bag out to him again. Steve takes a handful of gummy bears and pops them into his mouth as he arranges Stevie on his lap a little better.

As this is happening, Barb nudges Robin. “I never thought I’d see this happen.”

Robin laughs softly and nods. “Me either. From what __ has told me, Stevie doesn’t meet strangers though.” she shrugs, “Does he seem off to you too lately? And it’s gotten a little more obvious since Nance and Jonathan left town.”

“It has.” Barb admits, leaning against Robin slightly. Not enough to be obvious or invateRobin’s personal space but enough that she can feel the slight weight of the other girl and just..be close.

She wishes she could be so much closer. But she doesn’t know how to even begin telling her.

Robin feels her cheeks burn at the slightest hint of contact and she bites back the smallest whimper threatening to break free. She forces herself to pull together and calls out to get Steve’s attention. “Dingus, don’t get her into sports!”

“Looks fun!” Stevie is grinning and she’s turned herself to face Steve. “Open your mouth.” Steve opens his mouth as the little girl’s asked and Stevie tries to toss a bear in but she misses. The blue gummy bear settles on the front of his new polo shirt and he picks it off, eating it.

The bell over the door jingles and Robin glances over to see who it is.

“Harrington! Yo! Dude!” Billy’s calling out Steve’s name as he wanders the aisles to search for his former enemy turned friend. He finally gives up the search and stops in front of Robin and Barb. “Either of you seen Steve or do I need t’ go over and drag his broody ass outta bed again?”

“Right here, Hargrove, jesus.” Steve speaks up. Billy nearly chokes on the gum he’s chewing as he sees Steve sitting behind the counter with the cute little 3 year old daughter of the hot mom living across from him and his stepsister and her mom in Forest Hills. “You stealin kids now, Harrington?”

“I came t’ him.” Stevie sasses, leaning in against Steve just a little. Steve laughs and shrugs. Robin speaks up. “Yeah, he stole her from me! It took two hours to convince her mom I’d be able to watch her today when she went in for the interview. He’s had her since Barb and I got here.”

“You get her all the time, Robbie.”

“And? She’s my sparkles.” Robin argues back with Steve playfully. Billy chuckles. When he spots the game on tv he laughs to himself. “Girls don’t like that sh–”

“Mama said that’s adult word.” Stevie warns, giving Billy a very stern little look. Billy snickers. “It is, huh?”

“Mhm.”

Steve looks up at Billy. “She wanted to watch it, actually.”

“I did!”

“Anyway, what’d you want?”

“You’re comin with me tonight, dude. Munson’s band’s having a gig at the new bar. Told him we’d go.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Fuck no. No you don’t, Harrington. I’ve got tomorrow off, I’m not gonna waste th’ night sober.”

Steve grumbles but shrugs. “Not like anything else is going on. Okay, fine.”

“I guess you can drive the Camaro because I’m not gonna be seen in the grandma mobile.” Billy smirks, he’s purposely being a shit now, hoping that maybe if he just keeps treating Steve like the way he treated ‘old Steve’ it’ll eventually piss Harrington enough to bring out just a little of the fight and spunk that’s been gone completely since March.

He’s really worried about Steve. He figured him out fairly easy right after he hit Hawkins their senior year. So he knows that walking out of the station with Eddie to his waiting car after everything played out in March.. Seeing the girl he wanted to be with more than anything reunite with a guy she claimed she ‘wasn’t sure about anymore’ when they looked like they’d reconnect. Billy knows this killed Steve.

And then there’s the whole Vecna thing, something Steve absolutely refuses to talk about with anyone. Even Robin, his best friend.

Billy just doesn’t want to see Steve go down the path he’s been down already.

“You loud.” Stevie mutters, giving Billy a dirty look as she leans against Steve’s chest and nods to the little television set. “We watch baske..” she gives up, “the ball game.” and Steve chuckles.

“Bas-ket-ball. C’mon, try it.”

“It’s big word! I 3.”

“And you’re really smart for 3, Stevie. C’mon, try it.” Steve coaxes.

With a little grumbling, he gets her to attempt sounding out the whole word. When she finally says it, she’s laughing and smiling, clapping chubby little hands together. “I said it! Aunt Wobin! I said it!”

Steve laughs. “You did.”

Billy snickers. “Try this one, shortstuff.. C-a-m-a-r-o.”

Stevie gives him a blank look and places a hand on her hip. “What that?”

Billy gestures to his haphazardly parked car outside the store and grins proudly. “The best car ever.”

“Uh uh! My mama’s car is best.”

Robin and Barb laugh. “Oooh.. a three year old just burned you, Hargrove.” Barb taunts and Robin laughs, " How'd that feel, Billy?"

“Shut it, both of y." Billy grumbles. "I'll be over at 9, Harrington. You're going if I have t' drag you."

"I said I'd go. Jesus." Steve gives Billy a dirty look. The guy has gotten it in his head lately that he's gonna make it his daily goal to find ways to annoy Steve.

Billy leaves and Stevie scowls at the door before looking up at Steve. "He's loud. It scare me."

Steve smoothes a hand over her hair. "He does, huh?" he looks down at Stevie and smiles, "I'll tell him to calm down, 'kay?"

"Fank you. I gonna go to aunt Wobin now. But I come right back." Stevie slips off his lap and makes her way over, instantly picked up by Robin. As she sees the movie Gremlins, she reaches for it and Robin laughs. "Sparkles, they don't stay fluffy the whole movie."

"Why not?"

"Because someone fed them after midnight." Barb answers, laughing. "Did you get tired of watching the basketball game, bub?"

"No. Just wanted to come t' you for a while."

CONTINUED

The afternoon is dragging by for him. Hardly anyone's come in since 9 that morning and the pattern seems destined to continue. Then there's a steady drizzle from a surprise afternoon storm as the rain drops pitter patter against the stores tin sheet roofing. Robin and Barb went to get the four of them some lunch and Steve flips the sign on the door from open to closed.

Stevie is asleep in his chair at the circular desk, huddled into a jacket he kept in back in case the store got too cold. The bag of gummy bears is dangling from her fingertips and about to settle on the floor when he decides maybe she'd be more comfortable on the couch in the office besides the break room.

But he's so damn tired, the 2 to 3 hours he's been getting a night since late March, those are catching up to him. He tells himself he'll just sit there and read a magazine while she naps but it turns into him laying down too, on the opposite side of the couch. And at some point, Stevie wakes up, comes over to where he's laying and crawls onto the couch with him, laying on his chest with her little arms around his neck.

This is how they're still sleeping when Barb and Robin come back a few minutes later. Barbs the one to find them and with a finger to her lips, she gestures for Robin to come to the door of the office. Robin peers in over Barb's shoulder, smiling to herself.

"Hang on. I actually think I have my camera with me out in the car." Barb hurries out to go get the camera and Robin stands in thr doorway watching the two of them sleeping on the old leather sofa. "___ is totally wrong in thinking Stevie is going to annoy Steve and I think this is exactly what he needs right now."

After Barb takes the picture, she and Robin decide to put the fast food they picked up for Steve and Stevie into the microwave and just let them sleep.

You make your way in, a brow raised at the silence. You're still processing the fact that somehow, you impressed the office interviewing you so much that you got the job. Robin grabs your wrist and practically pulls you to the office in back so you can see the way Steve and Stevie are sleeping on the couch.

"I hope she didn't bother him all day."

"She didn't. They crashed while we went to pick up food. Steve hasn't been sleeping at all and I think Stevie playing with Will when he came in with the other kids earlier tired her right out." Robin smiles, "by the way, Steve's kids have adopted her.. well, Max, she's still warming up to her but..pretty sure if you want a sitter all you have to do is say so."

"Steve's kids?" you question, brow raised. This leads to Barb and Robin sitting you down in the little break room and as they tell you everything, from the start to what’s only just come to a close -hopefully for good, as of March, you're gaping. “You..He.. Oh my god, why did nobody stop it? Like.. they had to know, right?” you’re looking at your cousin in concern and if you thought Robin Buckley was a badass before, you really believe it now. Because all she does is shrug it off as if it were nothing.

"The running joke is that Steve's kind of adopted them all..because we've been through so much." Robin goes quiet. Weighing how much she can tell you without you freaking out on her. Even thinking about the insanity she’s been through the past few years is still a lot for Robin to get her own head around, let alone try explaining it to someone else.

"Wait..back up." You're trying to process it all, from secret government science labs to these kids -and their teenage counterparts, including Steve and Robin, having to fight as if they were in a war just to save the town. Robin can see you freaking out so she explains quickly, "Billy,Dustin Eddie and Steve saw the portal close because Eddie almost didn't make it up. That nightmare is over now, thank God."

,, well, you think to yourself, now I'm really fucked when it comes to finding a reason, any reason at all to keep from getting feelings for the guy." and of course, this is quickly overruled by one thought.

He's in the prime of his life. He probably wants to enjoy that. He probably doesn't want you and all your baggage plus your daughter. And thankfully, this is just enough, for now, to keep you from letting yourself get in too deep.

Steve wanders in with Stevie on his hip and his hair sticking up everywhere. Stevie has never liked waking up before she's ready so she's got her sour face on. Steve hasn't said a word to anybody, he possibly hasn't noticed the three of you sitting at the table in the break room or the way you're staring hard right now yet.

He heats up Stevies food and then his own and when he turns around, he finds himself being watched intently by the three of you.

You smile at your daughter. Everything Robin's just gone into detail to tell you comes rushing back and in light of it, you decide that maybe he needs this. Maybe it's okay to let her seek him out until he says otherwise.

"Did you have a nap, cupcake?"

Stevie is still yawning. Steve sits her chicken nuggets down on the table and Stevie climbs into your lap to eat them. "We did, mama! And we watched movies and this boy came and he gived me crayons!" Stevie digs in the old and faded backpack until she finds the crayons that Will gave her earlier.

You laugh softly.

"How'd the thing..the interview go?" Steve asks, locking eyes with you as he bites into his own double cheeseburger.

"How did that go?" Robin asks.

" I got the job. And they're willing to let me bring Stevie if I need to." You smile.

Steve is staring. And as you smile, he feels himself smile too because there is just something beautiful, something contagious about your smile that he can't help but do it too.

"That's great!"Robin hugs you and you both laugh.

"I start tomorrow. I'm working in the mornings, so open to 2?"

You're excited. Maybe everything will finally start to go better for you and your little girl.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x single/former teen!mom!reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x buckley!cousin fem. reader #<- my writing ● steve harrington #<- warnings | angst - single/former teen mom - post s4 with s4 / show changes - see warnings above.#<- warning | female reader - robin's cousin - female parts - 3 year old daughter - female clothing; etc - personality + a backstory and pas

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reverie-starlight · 1 year

Note

Bestie, my love, light of my life (for reals :( ) I’m in my thoughts™️ thinking about atsumu being like. Super, always prepared with a plan b whenever your plans get changed bc he never wants to disappoint you and I’m soft smh 🥺🧡 going above and beyond to make you happy; pls feel free to feed me because the brainrot is so real????

gn!reader, pure fluff <3, but mentions of anxiety and feelings of helplessness but like very minor. no angst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

UMMM OKAY YES. as someone who absolutely hates and does not respond well to change, i would be sososososo appreciative of this??? i really drew from personal experiences here-

like?? he would so totally have a plan b because he knows you don’t like it when the things you planned together don’t go the way you wanted, he knows it makes you anxious when things you thought you had control over get seemingly ripped away from you by the universe.

but he knows you never end up making plan b’s on your own because once you get excited about something, you let yourself think there’s no way it could end up not happening. and you know you shouldn’t set yourself up for disappointment, but it’s so easy to forget about a plan b when you’ve figured out everything to perfection.

which means he makes sure you both have a back up plan so you still feel like there’s a sense of security when it doesn’t go to plan.

(a smol sidenote abt the lengths atsumu would go for you: if he could, he would totally take on the fates in a fist fight if it meant keeping a smile on your face forever.)

he doesn’t always need to come up with a backup plan but he has one anyway!!

the night before he has to use his plan b for the first time, you're sitting in bed and excitedly rambling on about everything you're going to do the next day ( for the third time that week since you planned it) as he gets ready for bed.

he has a smile on his face that you don't see because you're staring up at the ceiling instead. "okay so we're going to wake up early and head to the café for breakfast, then the zoo, because it shouldn't be busy on a week day... and after that I thought we could head over to that new photo op place with the cool backgrounds and take some cute pictures. it's been a while since we've done our own mini photoshoot. does that sound okay, 'tsum?"

"it sounds perfect, baby, thank you again for planning it all out."

you give him a shy smile and shake your head a bit. "it's nothing, I'm just glad you're going to enjoy it too. it's not often we both have a day off together, so I wanted it to be perfect."

except the next morning you head out only to find that the café you wanted to try out was closed. you frowned, but atsumu just took your hand and lead you back to the car. "it's okay! I know another place we can go, it's not too far out of the way. you'll like it, I promise."

you debated for a second, not sure if you should just wait for it to open or go along with your boyfriend's idea. but ultimately he convinced you that it was much better than throwing your schedule off by a couple of hours.

he heard you sigh as you got into the car and shook off the minor setback. it was one thing, surely the rest of the day will go as planned, you reasoned with yourself and turned up the music a bit, wanting to sing along with atsumu as he drove.

thankfully you ended up adoring the place your boyfriend suggested, and you were in much better spirits the next time you got in the car.

you weren't aware, but he was happy that the first part of his backup plan came in handy.

the next item on your list was the zoo. you were ready to walk off your meals and look at some cool animals, now, but the second you arrived in the parking lot, it started to rain.

and not just a light drizzle, either, it was pouring.

"what?!" you yelled, "I checked the weather three times yesterday and once before we left, it wasn't supposed to rain! I mean, I brought umbrellas just in case, anyway, but we can't walk in this!"

you looked so distraught that atsumu reached over to rub your arm. "baby, it's alright! here- we can sit in the car for ten minutes and if it doesn't let up anytime soon, I have an idea for what we can do instead."

a whine escaped your mouth. "but 'tsum, our plans-"

"it'll all be okay, y/n/n, I promise. do ya trust me?"

you nodded and gripped his hand. he brought them up to his mouth and kissed the back of yours a few times. "I know you wanted everything to be perfect, but don't let a couple changes in our plans ruin your mood, alright, sweetheart? anything I do with you is perfect for me."

"you are disgustingly sweet, I love you so much," you laughed at him as he let out a shocked sound.

ten minutes later, the rain still hadn't let up and he drove you over to the aquarium a few blocks away. truthfully, when he found out you'd both have a day off together he had planned out his own day for the two of you just in case something like this happened. he'd never tell you unless you explicitly asked, but it was something he always did for you.

and thankfully, his plans weren't so different than your own. café, then animal themed attraction. then a mini photoshoot (because he knew you were getting antsy with all the "fan" accounts of his bringing up how you guys never post each other anymore so it must either be a PR thing or a breakup). then home for dinner and hopefully lots of cuddles after.

he pulled into the parking lot and he noticed your eyes light up a bit. "the aquarium? atsumu, you genius!"

he grinned and sat a bit straighter in the driver's seat. you were never shy about complimenting him or feeding into his ego.

after parking the car and reaching for the umbrellas, he glanced at you. "get ready to run, there were no spots open close to the entrance."

you nodded and got out of the car, undoing your umbrella and making a mad dash for the building. the both of you were laughing the whole time, earning some stares from bystanders.

once you were inside, you purchased your tickets and made your way through. atsumu would never admit this either, because he hated to see you disappointed, but he was glad the zoo didn't work out. now he got to see your eyes shine brighter, both with excitement and the reflection of the water from the tanks as you stared at the sharks in awe.

it was safe to say he definitely admired you more than the sea life.

you left the aquarium a few hours later happy and holding a stuffed dolphin that he insisted on buying you from the gift shop. you glanced up at the sky before stepping out from underneath the entrance. "it stopped raining, finally."

he took your hand and made way to the car. "photo op place next?"

you nodded and got in the driver's seat. "my turn to drive, you don't know how to get there."

"GPS exists, baby."

you gave him a deadpan look. "last time we used GPS we were half an hour late to your brother's dinner reservations because you insisted you knew a faster route."

"in my defense I didn't think there would be so much construction."

"mhm, just let me drive."

"...fine."

twenty minutes later, you were trying not to pop a blood vessel while you spoke to the lady at the reception desk. "but there's nothing on your website about needing to make a reservation! it literally says that walk-ins are an option!"

"I'm very sorry, but there's a limit to how many people can enter the rooms at a time and we're at max capacity right now. the next available time we can get you in is next week, if that's alright."

you wanted to cry. atsumu could see you struggling to stay calm and quickly sent the lady a charming smile. "no, that's alright, but thank you anyway! have a nice day."

when you got back to the car, you finally gave in to the stress that had been building up all day. you were thankful that atsumu always had a solution to your issues that worked out, but you felt so out of control now that literally everything you planned for the day had gone wrong.

tears welled up in your eyes and atsumu rubbed your back. "it's okay, baby, let it out."

"I just wanted our day together to go smoothly, and I know you said earlier you were happy with anything but I had it all planned, 'tsum. and it ended up being a really nice day, I'm happy about that, but I feel so useless! I hate it when things don't go to plan."

"I know, sweetheart, I'm sorry what ya had planned didn't end up happening, it's frustrating. I hate seein' ya disappointed, but think about it- we stayed on theme with what ya originally had planned. it didn't differ too much."

you shrugged and nodded a bit. "I guess..."

he wiped away a tear and kissed your cheek. "can I take over one last time? we can still do our photoshoot. I know a real pretty place, much better than whatever this place had to offer for sure. and then dinner and what we watch tonight is all your pick."

you glanced at him and nodded, attempting a small smile. "sure, 'tsum... thank you. this might have been a lot worse if you hadn't been here. I appreciate you, you know how to make me feel more secure in moments like this. I love you."

he winked and smiled back at you. "anything for the love of my life."

fine, maybe things hadn't totally gone to plan, but you were learning to let go of that. you trusted atsumu, so you just had to trust that everything would be okay so long as he was involved. he always made sure of it.

(and in the end you got some really amazing pictures that definitely silenced those accounts saying you broke up. obviously no one would assume that after atsumu posted a... just slightly too-hot-for-instagram photo of the two of you posing with his hands all over you in front of some roses...and then one more from the very end of the night when you were cuddled up in bed.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I... kinda don't love how this turned out I won't lie. I don't hate it, but I'm scared I didn't do it justice, I'm so sorry emmy!! but regardless, I hope you enjoyed, this prompt was SO CUTE!!! and thank you for sending it innnn <333

have a nice day everyone :)

pls consider reblogging, it helps me out <3

#atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader

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dreamsofminnie · 1 year

Text

“500 years... And not once did I forget you.”

{Dainsleif x Reader} Part 1

Part 2 <(Link will be open once its posted

Summary-> These centuries, these years apart. Khaenri’ah was cold but your heart felt much colder. The forgivable sin Dainsleif left had left imprinted deeply into your flesh. Then why do you feel this overbearing longing for his pressence once again? Years of therapy, self-reflection, and vividly horrid night terrors; couldn’t stop this ache when you lay eyes upon him once more.

Notes-> This took several months to write and plan </3 Originally for my bestie for her birthday but I thinks it’s too well written to not share. I hope you like this lighthearted, horror+mystery, a lil comfort, then hurt & angst—in that order <3 @wraitingyou

Taglist Open to anyone✨

Tags-> DainsleifxReader, Angst, Slow burn, We die in vain, mystery, genocide, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Reader is from Khaenri’ah, Khaenri’ah lore, reader is from Khaenri’ah, repressed memory, the cataclysm | fall of Khaenri’ah, pre-cataclysm Khaenri’ah, mutual pining, childhood friends, hurt no comfort, pain and suffering, angst and humour, slight gore, horror, body horror, decimation, the abyss, abyss order, reader is not traveler, betrayal, Rhinedottir, mentions of alternate universe, comfort, pining, fluff to angst, implied/referenced character death, genshin plot, Royal guard Dainsleif, reader was a royal guard, nostalgia, suffering, harsh language, heartbreak, no love, delusional dreams real, memory lost, regaining memories

Word Count-> 5.6k

✨

“See you later! Have a safe trip, except for you Wanderer. I hope you trip on your way out and get buried under.” Running farther away from your friend and the pest, you had really prayed for your dear friend’s safety with that gremlin of a puppet.

The inn you all were staying at was starting to get less packed with the huge rainstorm passing. Sumeru surely was a rainforest of region, much more comforting out of all the places you have traveled so far.

Faint drips of rain plopped onto the windows. Soothing yet setting for a melancholy atmosphere. Not that it’s needed, you don’t ever get sappy for anything.

“Therapy session for this month check. Controlled anger issues check. Resistance in making crude jokes.. hnn, check i guess.” I should be good for another few months…”

“I must prepare to leave early tomorrow morning.” Diving into bed is the best parts of the day. No need to waste energy on minuscule thoughts.

Except, innsomnia is a tired person's worst literal nightmare.

“Agh, the kitchen would be closed at this time of the night. Snacks are a nope. Fresh air then, stars are always mesmerizing, maybe they can hypnotize me to sleep.” Irritation laced your words, not thinking much of them.

Curse the devil for allowing innsomnia.

Slipping into a coat you walk out your room and onto the large public balcony.

The inn you were staying at was in the main Sumeru city. Twisted into the tree trunk, the rooms carved into the tree while the balcony stuck out with marble flooring. The usual white spiral ramps gave the inn exits either going up or down.

Though to you, Sumeru is one of the nicest places to enjoy scenery. Aesthetic in all ways. The stars this night didn't fall flat of this statement.

Truly

Something to admire

Something forgotten

Leaning on the balcony railings the gentle breeze took some leaves for flight and your eyes followed suit.

Till they landed on a silhouette standing ten feet away looking in the opposite direction. His back was broad and he stood tall. His hair paled much more in the moonlight and clothes rustled with each growing breeze. The breeze acted like it was setting a mood as it grew a bit harsher.

A twinge in your nerves caused you to walk towards him.

Strange emotion pileing up for this unknown man.

Then it dropped.

You couldn’t believe you thought that was someone who would stir such emotions. Your head thought it was a person your heart has longed for. But a person you have no idea of. Who? Who did you think it was?

Thinking now, the breeze wouldn’t be able to set a mood even if someone were to sober it. Not that there needs to be mood setting.

“Don’t you have a home and a broke man to accommodate to.” Snarky remarks at 4am is exactly what a man needs to hear to crawl back home. Except it doen’t work on pricks.

“And what pleasantries do we have here.” He taunted and turned around his face cold as ever.

“I don’t understand your feeble scholar upgraded language. Shut the fuck up. My insomnia can’t handle pricks.” Alhaitham closed his thick study books and used it to tilt your chin up.

You were standing two steps apart. Well, one step for him since long legs and all.

“Tighnari has smelling herbs for insomnia. Did your puny brain not tell you of that prick either.” You huff and push his book straight back into his chest. “Unlike you. He is much more welcome in my bubble of friendship. Dried up cactuses don’t get a say in my life.”

Alhaitham tucks the book under his arms and turns towards the ramp going down. “Then I guess this dried up cactus will fuck off as you said.” He took five steps before slightly turning back at you.

“Insomnia herb. Get it tommorrow.”

Then he disappeared from view.

“What the fuck. He sounded like he ordered one for me already?! I’ll make sure he didn’t tomorrow morning. Hhuu. That exchange made me exhausted.” With groggy eyes you drag your feet back into the inn.

Upon entering your room once again, you hit the sack faster than you took off your bulky coat.

✨

“AAUUCK!! fak.” You bolted up. These Sumeru bed’s are truly something. Though there were sheets and blankets for comfort, the main part of the bed has grass and leaves atop the wooden base inside. They leave you pretty sore for people who have never slept on a hard surface like these.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes.

“Time to get that medicine i guess. And check out of the Inn.”

“Archons bless you Tighnari. Lifesaverr, your the bestt!!” You placed all the stuff he gave you into your travel bag securely.

“No problem. Those should be able to last you for a month or more. Just as you don’t overdo your state.” He crossed his arms in a knowing stare.

You avoid his eyes, then recalled an annoying swirling voice in your head. “When did you prepare this for me..?”

“I really hope it’s not…-”

“He put in the order.”

“HOW THE FUCK! When did that bastard get the time to message you in that short time I talked to him yesterday night?! What is he watching my every move or something. creepy.”

“Creep sent a messenger bird late at night.” Your bewildered and irritated sigh battled your disgust to fight him right now. So you settled with another direction. Slapping a piece of paper on the floor you scribbled a rushed “thank you” letter.

“Please send this to Alhaitham the creep, as my condolences to his creepy ways.” You mocked his formal speech and handed Tighnari the piece of paper with a drawing.

“What the fuck.” Tighnari stared at the drawing in dumfoundedness and a slight tinge of amusement if this was sent.

“It counts as two things, see? One could represent a middle finger then the other…well, those two spherical structures are the things he doesn't have. He doesn't have those to fight me" (balls to fight me)

“I wish I could see his reaction to this then. I guess I’ll send it to him for you.” You smiled to Tighnari in gratitude. You could always count on your sassy gay friend.

“But anyways, don’t you have to get going, it’s reaching noon soon.” Tighnari looked in the sky and back towards you.

“Ah! Of course of course… Hiking is the most terrible sport…can’t believe people do this for fun.”

Tighnari crosses his arms and moved along with his wight shift, deadpanned. “I do that for a job. Get used to it, hiker.” Pointed his thumb towards the hills.

“Sheesh. Well then I’m heading off. Thank you for the weed, bye bye.”

You could hear a loud bewildered huff merged with a laugh, while you ran off.

✨

By the time you reached the edge of Fontaine the sky grew dark. Good thing Tighnari suggested you take one of his makeshift tents. Inns won't be available on the outskirts of the city so it will take a while to hike further.

Light rain hit the tent in pitter patters. Soothing.

You take the paper package of the medicinal herbs out. “Ah. How did he tell me to make this again? Where’s the ball.” Rummaging through your bag you took out an incense ball. A similar one to what Tighnari has but yours was darker in tone and in dull blue and black.

You hung the ball from a short wire off the ground. Opened the top and sprinkled in half a handful of the herb. It closed shut and you shook it around a few times. A bit of water from your bottle was tossed in this concoction. The incense ball’s scent soon filled the tent.

“So fast and effective..” A yawn already erupted from your mouth.

Droplets of rain. Therapeutic.

✨

The tent folded back and incense packed you headed off once again.

To the heart of Fontaine.

You really were getting tired of inns. The amount of money you have was starting to lack. You pondered if you should just take some simple requests from small villages along the way. You gain money, and they gain help.

You nodded to yourself and paraded to nearby villages.

You followed a pathway toward the houses keeping your eyes aware of anyone that seemed in need of help.

A man standing a few feet away seemed distressed while he paced back and forth anxiously.

Your curiosity peeked as you came closer. “Hello sir. Are you okay? You seemed terribly stressed” You heard that Fontaine was a place of formalities so speaking the part was no problem.

The man hurriedly looked up expectantly. “Are you perhaps a mercenary?! You’ve got to help! Oh, it’s a hell of a mess!! He’s-he might die. Surely will pass away! Theft, murder, moronic fool!!”

You lower his arms from flailing around in erratic movements in his panicked stupor. “Uh. I’m not quite catching up sir..” You would have thought it would take much more just to get a request.

The middle-aged man gulped in large breaths to smooth his emotional turmoil.

“My cousin, Guillaume, has been recently been in debt as a treasure horder. He is quite skilled but truly reckless. He fought a bunch of Abyss mages that seemed to be in a middle of a ritual... Treasure of course was engraved in his skull. So when he picked up a heavy object from the scene, it made him crazed. He became hostile to every person who comes near him. Injured many. Not only that, but the occurrence enraged the abyss and he is getting hunted by the Fontaine police as well as the Abyss. From that, he started kidnapping people into his hideout and they too become crazed… I know I should trust the officials but.. their pride is too high to even adknowledge my input.”

He wasn't fidgety anymore and remained calm. This series of events seemed bothersome to you now. Too much work for you who just wanted some quick task. Intriguing of course, but eh.

“As well as the fact that the Fontaine officials were here moments ago and left as quickly. I was merely aggravated when a gentleman came by to ask questions about this incident. He hurried when I gave all my information on the location. I worry for the gentleman. I can’t help to stress. As well as…I know that Guillaume is deeply in dispair. He has this small window where he is sane and…He sent me a few letters..”

You took some time to ponder all the information. The abyss is after the man who stole something, the thing has changed him and everyone around it. They seem like they became, monstrous—ugh!

Your hand was deeply clenched at your scalp head throbbing so loudly and throat dry.

“Dear me! Are you alright!! Apologizes to the hefty load!” He hurriedly sat you down on a short stone fence and fetched water from the well a few feet away.

The sounds of splashing water seemed much more distant than 5 feet away.

‘It's so dizzy..’

Red fizzled and flashed in your head. Red flags that encouraged you forward. A terrible way to go but who knows. Maybe, just maybe, solving this can make those nightmares that lead to your insomnia go away. Bloodshed. The cause of why you see bloodshed in these nightmares has always bothered you so bad.

“…iel, Iel! Hello?! Are you well?! Drink drink, water” You release your tight hold on your head to take the large cup. The water was cool and slide down as a semblance of relief. The reflection mirrored your pained expression, your frowned. It was not a good look for you. But cracking jokes at this time, wasen’t wise.

“..thank you for the water. I don’t know what happened just now. But. I will help with this, for the gentleman and for your cousin. If he still can be helped…” The man relaxed at your conscious state and nodded.

“I will provide you more details.”

✨

Rest was not an option in this tight knit issue. Anything could formulate in the span of a whole minute. And your dread never faded the whole time you thought about this.

Let’s see, the man said Guillaume would take the villagers at midnight when the stars are high up. In the daytime, he isn’t crazed and sits in solitude in despair. He is responsible for dozens of people he has dragged.

You feel sickened. The letters you got to read by Guillaume were heart-wrenching and explicit. However, it could only be judged on the rule of the scene.

Some crucial details in the letters were his descriptions.

“The crystal shines so luminescently venomous.

It burns as well as attracts……

I can’t take it.

Please please. Hel 𝓹

Your leetrs that say you will save me from this hell is false!

The feel of gasoline ignites my fingers to my core.

Though I feel it welcome me……

The ghastly scars leave residue atop my skin. Horrific.

Black.

All ash

My vision has been narrowly obscured.

How I am able to pick up a pen is beyond my imagination.

Is my brain really intact?

Hah.

I think someone is comi. g into the room. Annoyance……

I think— I shut up their cries……

Do I-know them?

Haha…she is trying to plead with me……

She remi nd.s me of m. y wife..

FUCK. WHA T HAVE I DO Ne. SHE- *incomprehensible scribbles and a slight dried dampness*

The human has given in to the crystal how astounding……

Haha. Her screams have filled the room……

The stars are approaching. It will be time again…….

How thrilling……

A feast is due……

Ps. [___] power lets us fly too. Did you really think I used a carrier pigeon…….

Stars stay alight in farewell…….delight……”

The letter gave you the shivers. This was the third one that was sent. And out of all the three letters, this contained the most insanity inducing mentality. You highly doubt Guillaume will live a normal life after this concludes. Poor guy. Debt changes a person.

On the contrary, this bloodbath piques my interest. It’s not every day you get to investigate manslaughter. You feel like detective Heizou. No wonder he likes to run off towards danger.

Information about the gentleman assisting was only brief since I was to hurry to the site before the next day. “He was tall and built more alike a soldier. He also wore blue and black clothing. He never gave me his name…” Your thoughts had fiddled when he had told you, but a numbing pain seized your brain functions into hyper-focus.

You rub your temples, eyes focused on the route he marked on your map. Leg day has really been your everyday. Super exhausting.

Blood and skin drew ice as your breath hitched. Strangled cry, sharp inhale of breath, hands clawing at your neck and chin. Despair induced your vein. The scream intensified something inside you. Airways in the throat barely letting a breath passby. Water pools your eyes in distraught and pain. Glued to your spot, the ominous descending cave gurgled back shouts and thumps. Muttered curses escape as you try and hold your ground. Saliva formed in the clogged airways and raining down by your feet. This all felt like you were strangled, punched, and overall scoured all over, in charcoal.

If you had regretted anything in your sad life, it was this. Taking this commission. Talking to the distressed man. Stranger danger real. Regret for ever stopping by that village…and the regrets have only started.

The next thing you saw was pitch black.

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

The weather these past few days has been horrid. Snow storm after the other piled the streets with 1 foot of snow. The roads and streets are accessible to your relief. How else would you be able to see your sweet boyfriend.

The chime of a café door rang as you entered hurriedly from the biting winds outdoors. You cupped your hands together and attempted to heat them up with your breath. The shop was quiet besides the old love songs and occasional emo rock songs playing from the speakers. Owl city was one of his most liked songs.

You perched on the counter ringing the small bell near the card scanner.

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding—

“Okay. Okay, I hear every one of your calls Y/n.” He came out from the break room and leaned in from across the counter where you sat.

You smiled at Dainsleif. “How are you Dain! Was shoveling the snow all by your lonesome hard this morning?~”

He huffed. “It was fine. But next time you're accompanying me.” He grabbed your waist and dragged you over to the worker's side of the counter, swinging your legs around as well so you're still sitting.

“It’s still midday so let me make you a cup of something warm.”

You watch him, your elbow on your knee and chin in your palm. Dainsleif manages this café and is the best drink maker there is. He unintentionally shows off some skills when making them, that’s why many girls come here for the show. Not that he pays attention to.

“Kaeya has told me to indulge you in more romantic lines. Would you like to be humored?” Dainsleif brought the mixing bottle up to the side of his head and shook it thoroughly as a bartender would, while glancing up at you.

When he does that every time it makes you swoon on the inside just a little.

“Kaeya is a terrible influence. Which makes life more bearable.” You shoot Dain a small finger heart in which he stops for a while in confusion but recovers a few seconds after.

“What does it feel like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?” Dainsleif plops toppings into the drink, adding more of your favorite ones.

“Bleh, I’m the ONLY person in this whole building, try again.” You kick your legs a bit, secretly enjoying these terribly cheesy pickup lines he always stores for you.

“Hm. If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together.” He achieved a faint breathy laugh from you, you argued that it was just because it was so so old and overused.

He snapped the lid onto the steaming cup and walked back to you handing it over.

He hesitated on his next line as you blew on the liquid through the hole and took a nice warm sip. It melted your insides in warmth.

So did the pickup line.

“Just wondering if your lips taste as good as they look.” Dainsleif’s eyes were awkwardly averted, wondering how you would react.

But you sat there, mouth agape, ears flushed from the pickup line. “Didn’t expect that one.” You mumbled into the cup, eyes unfocused staring at your favorite toppings floating to the top.

Dain carefully placed both hands on either side of your thighs. “...it wasn’t answered.”

Your eyes tilt up from the drink sitting on your lips. “It wasn’t a question.”

Your rebuttal made Dain purse his lip, which you intensely stared at. “Then….may I kiss you?”

Your inner thoughts were racing, the reflex of wanting to push him away was itching, but the thought of a kiss sent you into a spiral. It’s not like you haven't kissed before, you have…a rare few times.

“Aha ha, ah uhm. Get out of that ugly sweater first then we’ll talk.” You jab one finger into his chest only pushing him away by a few inches.

Both of you are terrible at this romance thing that's why it's so awkward to initiate. You back out of close contact, and only stick to flirting, and he spews pickup lines he learns from Kaeya because he’s confused about love but also respects your boundaries. All your friends suffer seeing this awkward couple at group gatherings.

“What’s wrong with my sweater?” He pulls the sweater and looks down. He wore a black shirt and over that was a black-green-brown button-up sweater, adorned with pictures of owls, bears, acorns, trees, and bushes. Very nature-y for your star-loving boyfriend. But honestly, it looked like it was made for a grandpa on a chilly evening stroll.

“The nature documentary show would like its background back.” You wheeze at Dain’s blank-faced reaction, so done with you, but he’s never over you.

Dain gently sneaked a kiss on your cheek to satisfy himself with your stunned silence cutting off any jokes lining up your defense.

He backed away from the counter and took his jacket off a hook ready to depart with you. “Our friends are waiting. Let’s head out now, I bet they are frozen solid outside since I was supposed to supply the hot drinks.”

That caused you to snap back as you cackled at Hutao, Yelan, Heizou, Tighnari, and the rest, chilled to the bone buried in the deep snow. You latch onto Dainsleif’s sleeve slipping your hand into his warm pocket and holding his curled-up thumb and pointer finger. “Let’s go wifey! Onwards to the ice sculptures!!”

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

The darkness had enraptured you at every turn, you didn’t know if you were sitting down, laying down or even face down digging into the dark ground. Your senses were so hazed and really failed you more than normal today.

“I always knew this is what hell was like. Dark cold and numbing on my ass.” Your voice was meek and raspy but they held the same sharp tongue you brought.

A breath hitched when you spoke. So you weren’t alone, in relief your body sunk from its tension. “This place would most likely be a hell. But it's all been cleaned up now..” The voice gave you a tingling feel, almost familiar if not for your impaired and dazed hearing.

“Whoes,” Your words have slurred with the throbbing of your head, a light pressure stroking it, not sure if it was your hand or the other persons. “I didn’t want you to see this mess. Also because that thing on your head is a protection of sorts.” Your mind was too out of it to immediately process his information.

“Was I drugged and potato sacked. I still can’t feel my ass.” The voice had an airy chuckle which echoed through the space. It must be a cave, orrr the internal abyss of the hell he called.

“Well that’s because you fell on a large sharp rock when I first saw you near the cave entrance.” Ah. made sense. “Once your senses are back and you start wiggling around, will I free you.” That made you suspect you were tied down somewhere. You just hoped it was spacious and clean enough so you could indeed roll around.

A sound of shuffled occured after a while and the footsteps faded, assuming that the person beside you had left the area. Once he came back it would be war against his, oddly pretty voiced most likely pretty man. How dare he potato sack you.

Fingers twitching to life, you didn’t know how many hours were spent on body recovery. The crackles of your bones that were stiff the entire night bounced off the walls. You could now feel that your body was in fact laying down, fabric carpeting you.

Footfalls came steadily back in your direction. “I knew you’d come back to me mysterious man” The tugging of the fabric around your head lead to pangs of sense recovery. You hear much more sensitively after being blocked for so long. The fabric finally coming around to uncover your eyes. Vision still impaired as the lights and darkness desperately tried to balance out. The haze in your eyes remains an issue even when the smell of the fabric was soothing.

A blur of a hand reached out to you, which you took graciously, limp as they were. You were hauled up to him as he held you close to steady your shaky body. “Get used to walking. Then we will scour the rest of the cave.” his voice sent a chill covering your spine, it was very nice.

Head limp on his chest you could see his black and blue fitted outfit. Even knowing you were short, his shoulder was still higher than your whole height. Plus the glimpse of a sword by their belt drew you to a hazy conclusion. He was the gentleman you were looking for.

However, a sense of dread and conflicting longing rang off in your ears from never ever wanting to look up into his face. So you did just that.

Your head stayed pressed against his chest as you figured out how to move the limbs helplessly called legs. Every time your legs wobbled too much, he would grab onto your waist to steady you. And every time you clutch onto his shirt too tightly in nerves rattling, he would pat your shoulder and let you put your feet on his so he could walk for you. Hours have passed and you got the hang of your body, with a little shake you managed to walk from one wall to the other.

“Pardon me for asking but, why am I so disabled like this in the first place?” Your voice was quiet but steady, unlike the time you talked when just waking up to potential hell.

“And in all fairness, you could’ve left me to disintegrate and die. Would’ve been better. Instead of nursing me.” You forcefully mumbled that out in a murmur. And you ready didn’t have to look up at the man’s face to feel the intensity of a sharp glare for a reason unknown.

Pacing in large circles and looking down to watch your feet, the man stood at the doorway. “It was close the time to midnight. The smell radiating off the cave entrance bewitched you and destroyed you. It closed off your nerves. I had prepared something beforehand to help elevate this phenomenon, which was the fabric I wrapped around you, acting as a cocoon. I then brought you inside, took care of the dangers lurking, and...secured the premise.” He failed to mask his hesitation on hidden information, due to what he knows about this situation than you do. You slowly nodded as you stare at his shoes, intimidatingly facing you.

“This cave is enormously large. Would you like to venture through the tunnels. If your legs are up for it. I won’t leave your side, case you fall and never get back up.” His words couldn’t help but put a sting in your heart while chasing it faster. And you who inadvertently let his attempted joke pass your head.

You nodded again which you could only do with a swift tilt up to not disclose your obvious hiding.

The gentleman luckily leads you, tailing behind clutching a corner of his cloak. It gave you more leverage to see more since he covered his own face from you since he’s tall.

As you both moved around the dirt-painted halls, the tunneling seemed handmade instead of natural. Claw marks etched into the surfaces, the ones on the wall grow even deeper and bigger the more your trembling legs take you down the hall. Some openings that led to other rooms littered the narrow tunnels, they were all empty and vacant. The only signs of life once in the rooms were the many elemental traces and or scratches from either weapons or nails. A dark murkiness painted the walls and floor—not wanting to ever know what it really is—but the stench that followed was hazy and metallic. The winding tunnels seemed endless. No wonder people came to be insane down here.

As your thoughts subsided, so did the unending tunnel.

A much broader room greeted you ahead. It must have been Guillaume’s place of residence. Half the room was bookshelves, scrawled-up papers, and scrunched-up scrolls, a large desk faced the other side, ink spilled from the table to the opposing wall. The vacant space looked more than inhabited, save for the etchings on every inch of the wall, ceiling, and floor surfaces. Many drew blanks, symbols, and incomprehensible languages. Stars were the most repeated shape. You didn’t know when you had let go of the man’s cloak, since you were too drawn to the walls of Guillaume’s self-asylum.

Your digits brushed some of the symbols, they curved neatly and were well-written. And familiar. One symbol you could read was—Cataclysm.

The jolt of electricity from touching those words provoked you to snap your neck to…

The man who stood in the same spot you left him before you let go. Him who watched you mindlessly draw your finger against the carved wall trying to work your brain. Him who—walking through the hallway—peered behind when you weren’t noticing, gauging your reactions. Him who, had to do a double take when he first saw you on the outskirts of the cave.

Dainsleif who,

missed you dearly.

Who always speculated if you were alive or not.

. . .

Traveling to Fontaine was genuinely; the WORST choice you could have ever done.

“Fuck.”

You really didn’t want to do this ontop of every other terrible occurrence this night. Your brain couldn't, hence the deep crease in your brow following your pained expression too well. All your senses weakened from your mentally solely. You knew him. You recognize him. You liked him.

But you hate him.

Many years of your continuous mental and physical health checkups, insomnia plaguing your attempted sleep, unresolved hatred. All to shield yourself against this man. To conceal the centuries with him.

Now all in vain. Crumbling beneath your feet at this very dreaded moment. The way your vision blurs, the shakiness in your foothold, your clammy hands, throat strained, all in response to a simple unimaginable presence.

The one presence your heart missed dearly. Your legs told you to run. To a remote place. But he blocked that path. As he did before, once again stuck in this in-between.

One step. Another.

A predicament you had placed yourself in. The wall that soothed your back has never felt as cold as it did now. How you would rather it envelop you into those eerie symbols. Engraving you to the mystery of the universe.

He was one step away now. Galaxy eyes bore into your evading ones. “Y/n…”

You refused his beckoning. But that wouldn’t make him leave. It wouldn’t get him to disappear from your existence. It only hurts more now that you know he is alive and healthy.

“umh. If we’re done here, then I have things to do somewhere else.” You burned your eyes anywhere else but near him. He couldn’t escape the slight view you had of him at the corners of your sight. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out to you, to find that once solace you gave him.

“Avoiding me won’t get you anywhere. I thought you weren’t one for not returning favors. I saved your life. Don’t you owe me something?” You scoff. It repulsed you on how observant he is of you.

“I had a dream with you in it. It was in a different world where we were… Happy together. I wish I was in that world currently instead of this shit.” The words you spewed were venomous, if not for the slightly fond tone you laced in. Dainsleif’s face contorted, he was now glad you refused his eye contact, for his eyes downturned in remorse.

Remorse; that's all he ever felt towards you for many centuries when you were apart. And the times when remorse wasn't present, he was deeply coated in affection for you. Those, however, were in the early childhood days. Too far gone in the past.

“I’m sorry I can’t live up to those expectations.”

“But now you have to repay me. …And forgive me.” His firm but gentle hold on your chin forced eye contact. His blue eyes shone with the diamond in them; just like how your eyes sparked with that diamond. His words however gave you the will to slap his hand away.

“You think apologies will reconnect us? After all those fucking centuries? Those actions were effectuated by you!! You festered this effect upon me! How could I ever, ever!! forgive your inapt causes?! You’re VILE!” You ended up hitting his chest and shoving him away which sent him 6 feet apart. He took every physical contact from you, the sting was apparent and long-lasting.

Your unquenched fury bubbled to the brim. And you now approached the silent man. Your hand was now tight against his collar, the obvious trembling of his dismantled your voice in cracks. “What was the reason?! You should’ve kept me in that sword. After you fucking decimated everyone with me. Why the fuck would I ever want to live after all that. Everything and everybody was a mess. You the most.” The intensity of your diamond-shaped eyes never faltered.

You stepped back as the grip on his collar loosened. “Khaenri’ah’s downfall… Couldn’t even be saved by any form of guard..” Your mumble cast your gaze away from his unnerving eyes.

Silence blanketed the room, no thoughts were presented or conjured. You both just allowed the atmosphere to sink in, head empty beside the presence that would have normally set your heart racing. Not this time; nor ever.

“It’s past midnight right? I’ll take a nearby room to rest in.” You didn’t require his answer, so you left just as quickly. Leaving behind the downcasted remorse filled Dainsleif stiff in his spot where you left him.

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

Author notes-> Reshare’s and likes appreciated <3 I hope it was heart wrenching—so i can collect tears to my jar >:D

#genshin fic #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #angst #slow burn #mystery #khaenri'ah #genshin lore #Fall of khaenri'ah #Mutual pining #Hurt no comfort #abyss order #rhinedottir #genshin au #genshin plot #Royal guard dainsleif #astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin dainsleif

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