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se4son-of-the-witch · 2 months

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the only exception - matt sturniolo

in which matt shows the reader what love should look like

matt x fem reader !

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The sound of my mother’s screams ricocheted off the walls as I lay in bed. This was a sound I was all too familiar with, as it happened almost every night. My dad would do or say something to upset my mom, which resulted in a big argument.

However, tonight was worse than it had ever been. The sound of my parents' bedroom door slamming made me shoot up from my bed. Loud steps could be heard going down the stairs. I could hear cries in the hallway, making me get out of bed.

My mom stood at the top of the stairs, mascara running down her face. My heart broke as I heard her sobs. She always held herself together, putting on a tough front for her kids, but tonight she just couldn’t.

Instinctively, I made my way over to her, making her immediately wipe her tears. She wrapped her arm around me, pulling me into her side. She sniffled loudly, occasionally letting out a soft cry.

My dad on the other hand packed a bag and made his way down the road. He was too angry to be at home and needed to get away. He had done this before, so it wasn’t shocking. He was never gone for long, and would usually come back the next day. But this was the final straw.

It had been a whole week and he still didn’t come home. I then learned that my parents had split up that night. Ever since then, I could finally sleep at night, with no interruptions from either of them.

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I stared off at the wall as my older sister leaned on my shoulder, letting out gut-wrenching sobs. Her boyfriend of two years had cheated on her, which obviously made her upset.

My hand rested on her back, rubbing soothing circles on her skin. Her tears rapidly fell on my shirt, creating a wet patch, but I didn’t mind. She needed a shoulder to cry on, so of course I was there for her.

In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what led to this. They had seemed like the perfect couple. He was always at the house, cuddled up on the couch with her. The picture of her waltzing around the house, waiting for him to pick her up for their date entered my mind.

But there she sat, crying her eyes out over him. Letting tears fall from her eyes and snot drip from her nose as she let it all out.

From that point on, I didn’t allow myself to get into a relationship. I pushed away any feelings I developed for anyone if I even allowed myself to develop those feelings. And I was quite content with that, as other things in life brought me happiness.

I stuck to this philosophy for years, until something changed. During my senior year, I met a guy. His name was Matt. We sat beside each other in history class, which we both found boring. However, we quickly became good friends, which made history class something to look forward to.

As the school year progressed, I found myself developing feelings for him. I tried my absolute best to push them away, but as soon as he flashed me a smile, they all came rushing back.

Soon, prom season came around. All of my friends were excited. They couldn’t wait to dress up, go out to eat, and slow dance with their date. But on the other hand, I couldn’t care less. I thought prom was a waste of time, especially if you went with a date.

However, Matt convinced me to go to prom with him. And safe to say, it was the most fun I have had in a long time. We danced all night, occasionally sneaking off to steal food from the snack table or take pictures in the photo booth.

A few months later, I came to a terrifying realization. I liked Matt. A scary amount. Due to these feelings, I began to distance myself. I would decline hangouts or leave him on read for a few days.

Eventually, this caught up with me. One day he came to my house, quite aggravated. I remember it as clear as day.

I quickly jogged down the stairs, making my way to the front door. I pulled it open, revealing Matt. He wore a slightly aggravated expression, making me knit my brows. “Matt, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? You haven’t answered me in three days and you wonder why I’m here?” He pushes past me, leaving me dumbfounded. I close the door and follow him into my living room.

He’s sitting on the couch, leaning forward. I sit on the other end of the couch, keeping a good distance between us. “You can’t even sit near me. Seriously, what’s going on with you?” He looks over at me with a hurt expression, making me feel awful.

“I’m scared,” my voice breaks as I speak.

“Why?”

I look away from him, turning my attention towards my lap. “Because I like you so much it scares me.” I felt a hand on my thigh, causing me to look over to him.

“You shouldn’t be afraid because I like you too. It’s been killing me that you’ve been ignoring me, y/n.” As his words sunk in, my heart couldn’t help but pound. To hear those words took a huge weight off my shoulders.

A few weeks later, Matt asked me out on a date. To say I was excited was an understatement, but I still had my worries. What if it all went wrong? What if I never spoke to him again after tonight? Those thoughts ran through my mind as I got ready.

As our date came to an end, I couldn’t help but smile. I had the best time tonight. Matt picked me up and took me to my favorite restaurant. He paid and even ordered me a dessert.

Now here we were, back at his car. I was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out the window when I felt a hand on my leg. I turned to look at Matt, a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

“I had a great time tonight.” His hand moved up my leg, resting on my thigh. As he began to caress the skin, I couldn’t help but ease into his touch.

I gazed into his eyes, allowing myself to get lost in them. “Me too.” My eyes flickered down to his lips, making him smirk.

Before I knew it, he was leaning in. He placed his lips on mine, his hand gripping my thigh. My hand found his jaw, my lips moving on his. As we kissed, I couldn’t help but smile.

He pulled away, a big grin on his face. “Be my girlfriend,” he blurted. My eyes widened at his words. “Please,” he breathed out.

I thought for a moment, my mind racing. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend, Matt.”

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That night changed my life for the better. It’s exactly why I’m in the position I am now.

My eyes slowly fluttered open as the sun peaked in through the curtain. I stirred around in bed before slowly sitting up. My movements were constrained as I felt Matt’s tight grip around me. His arm was wrapped around my waist, keeping me close to him.

I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at him. He was peacefully sleeping, his mouth slightly open, allowing soft snores to escape. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He stirred beneath me, his eyes slowly opening. A yawn left his lips as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. “Good morning, baby,” he said as he pulled me into his side.

“Good morning, babe.” He placed a kiss on my forehead, making me smile. I watched as he sat up, pulling the covers off of his body.

“I’m gonna make us some breakfast. Pancakes sound good?” I gave him a nod. I watched as he left the room, a smile on my face.

Simple things like that remind me how lucky I am to have Matt. Had I let my fears get the best of me, I would have missed out on love others spend their whole life searching for.

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a/n: shoutout to all the girlies with divorced parents and a fear of intimacy…😭 ily

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo

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buckyalpine · 6 months

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Please do a teeny story where buckys kitty is all over a y/n and he is so flustered about it. These pics of my cat who is a Turkish Angora. I like to think he might look a bit like Alpine 😉

I'm here for all the domestic fluff rn. WHAT A CUTE BABY PLSSSS absolutely yes your fur baby looks like such a little angel. That is most certainly Bucky's sweet Alpine.

Bucky finally moved into a new apartment. One with proper heating and lighting. A comfy bed he actually liked to sleep in. Furniture he picked out. It was a simple space but he liked it. He even got a few plants and hung up a few pictures, most of them with Sam and Steve.

His favorite place was surprisingly the kitchen. After years of tasteless mush and not exactly feasting every day back in he 40's, Bucky loves trying experimenting with different recipes and recreating ones he remembered his ma making for him.

Then there was his favorite thing in the whole world. A little white ball of fur that would slink around his legs all day, meowing for pets and cuddles, purring so loudly Bucky was sure the neighbors could hear. He'd never meant to get a cat but all it took was one charity event at a local animal shelter and the rest was history. He couldn't resist those adorable blinking eyes and soft, wispy fur.

"Alp?" Bucky rubbed his eyes, curious as to why there wasn't a fuzzy motor boat purring on his chest while the sun streamed through the curtains. "Where'd you go, baby"

It wasn't rare for Alpine to wake up earlier than Bucky, sauntering around the apartment to lay under a patch of sun. He swung his legs over, making his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for both him and his cat only to find the apartment empty and the cat door swinging.

"I should've never installed that" Bucky groaned to himself, deciding to continue making breakfast in hopes that Alpine would be back shortly whilst also wondering why he thought it would be a good idea to give his cat a sense of independence. Moments later, Bucky heard the swinging of the flap, announcing the arrival of the fur ball.

"Where did you go" Bucky cocked his head, noting the way his cat was smugly licking his lips before jumping onto his cat tree and stretching out for a nap. "For fucks sake, you're worse than Steve, running off God knows where and doing who knows what"

A knock of the door broke Bucky away from the conversation he was having, his eyes growing wide seeing his pretty neighbor on the other side.

"H-hi" Bucky stuttered, smiling down at the PJ's you were still in along with soft bunny slippers on your feet, sleep still evident on your face. Before either of you could speak, Alpine trotted over, walking right past Bucky and straight to you. He stood up on his hind legs with needy meows, batting his eyes as best as he could, something he very clearly learned from his owner.

"Alpine" Bucky hissed, his cheeks growing red while his cat continued to paw at your leg, trying to climb you like a tree, begging to be picked up.

"Is he yours" you giggled, picking up the fussy cat in your arms, letting him adjust himself until he was comfy, his eyes closing for a nap. "He was at my door this morning"

"You can't nap there baby" Bucky sighed, embarrassed over the fact that his cat was rubbing himself all over you plus he'd clearly just revealed Alpine wore the pants in the relationship. "Yeah, he's mine. I'm so sorry, he's usually not like that, he usually runs away from people-

"It's okay" you cooed at the content cat in your arms, giving him another snuggle before turning to Bucky again. Something silver in your hand caught his eyes, running and hand over his face when he realized what you were holding.

His cat was a menace.

"He left this at my place while coming for a visit. Thought I should bring it back to its rightful owner, Sargent" You said shyly, handing over Bucky's dogtags, your breath hitching as your fingers brushed over his metal hand, placing them in his palm.

"Supposed I should give this back to you as well" you handed over Alpine, torn between wanting to cuddle the fur baby more and also feeling jealous of how comfy he must've felt in his daddy's thick arms, resting against his strong chest-

Get a hold of yourself.

"Thank you, doll" The pet name slipped out on is own making both of you giddy again. "I-I was just about to make breakfast, if you want to come over in half an hour" Bucky offered, nervous at how your react, butterflies bursting in his tummy when your eyes lit up.

"I'd love that" You gave Alpine one last scratch behind the ears before retracting back to your apartment to get changed while Bucky closed the door behind him.

"I know you want a mommy but you can't just plant yourself into the arms of the first pretty girl you see" Bucky's muffled voice carried through the door making your cheeks heat up, smiling to yourself when Alpine meowed in response.

"I know you have good taste but you know I would've asked her out eventually. You didn't have to drag my dogtags there"

"Meow"

"I'm not scared"

"Meow"

"I'm not!"

"...Meow"

"Fine. But you let me handle this when she comes over"

"Meow"

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tripleyeeet · 8 months

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FEAR OF LOSING IT (4)

SUMMARY: When it's discovered that Astarion's being hunted, you take matters into your own bloody hands.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 4,235

WARNINGS: Teasing, spoilers for BG3, canon typical violence, minor character death, pining if you squint a little, feelings realized!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Day 4 is here! Prompt is "you're not scared, are you? Of Me?" So hopefully I did it justice?

Also sidenote, to anyone wanting to be on the taglist. I had a few issues tagging some people but I still put your name. Not sure why it won't let me tag so check your settings and next fic I'll try again.

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The sun beams down as you walk along the water’s edge, carefully stepping over damp rocks and foliage with narrowed eyes. As per usual, you and Astarion are trailing behind the rest of the pack —you because of the hangover you’ve been nursing all morning; him because he lives to irritate you.

“I don’t understand how you feel so ill. You barely had more than a few drops of that ale.”

Slightly in front of you, Astarion steps around a patch of suspicious-looking rocks, turning to grab your arm and guide you out of the way as you scrunch up your face in disgust.

The air is way too hot to be touched. Beneath the fabric of your tunic, you can feel your skin grow increasingly sticky, prompting you to brush off Astarion's hand but reluctantly still follow with a groan.

“I drank more at camp,” you confess, feeling a pain radiate inside your head. One that’s almost reminiscent of the tadpole, pulsing in angry motions that make you close your eyes and quietly wince.

Picking up on your discomfort, Astarion slows his pace, opting to walk alongside you rather than ahead. “And why in gods name did you decide to do that?”

Immediately, you shrug your shoulders, offering him nothing despite knowing the reason. Last night at the party you embarrassingly drank to forget all those thoughts. The ones filled with visions of hands and mouths gliding across your wanting skin.

Even now you hate to admit it, but after parting ways, you were still a bit riled up. A mixture of anger and annoyance coating your soul once you finally got situated inside your tent, knowing deep down there wasn’t much you could do. Gale had already returned to camp before you so you definitely couldn’t do the deed yourself without the possibility of further embarrassment, and you sure as hell weren’t going to wander back to Astarion with your hands between your thighs, begging for release.

In the end, the only other option was to get pissed drunk, so you did. And now, you were greatly suffering the consequences in the form of a whole day’s worth of walking under the beating sun alongside an overly stubborn and nosy vampire.

“All by your lonesome?”

Without even having to think, he looks at you with the kind of false pity that makes you want to drown him. To lace your fingers in his perfect locks so that you can better shove his face into the water, never to hear that damned voice again.

Gods, is it ever tempting...

Rolling your eyes, you swear under your breath and shove him aside instead, feeling the edge of your elbow make contact with his chest before you attempt to step forward, feeling his hand pull you back.

Overall, the motion is quick and painless —a twirling rush that sends you hurtling into his frame, boxing you in in the form of a hand that rests against your lower back— but regardless it still surprises you.

“Was it because you wanted it?”

His hand lingers against your leathers as he awaits your answer. Barely putting enough weight to truly hold you back, it quickly becomes obvious that your current stance against him is of your own volition. A choice you’ve made during a moment of weak desire as you deeply inhale the dewy air.

“Wanted what?”

“You know.”

At this point, you’re positive he knows that you secretly like it when he touches you. When he physically guides you through difficult terrain or lets your fingers brush when trading trinkets after a day of looting. You’ve never made it known that you dislike it —never protested, even during times of tense discussion. All you’ve ever done is make faces of annoyance, hoping he’ll take the hint.

He never does. Not even now, as you press both of your palms against his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you stare him down, does he think to move. To let his hand fall to his side to let you continue your stride. Instead, all it does is remain perfectly still, resting against the small of your back, waiting.

It makes you swallow hard as you take a step back, feeling the resistance of your hip as it brushes through his fingers.

“You’re really not going to admit it?” he asks then, watching you pause. Feeling you stop mid-step to cock your head and flash him a grin so utterly snobbish, that his facade of confidence finally slips.

“What? That I want to fuck you?”

Your voice is patronizing. A pointed tongue laced with poison gunning for his throat. You want him to taste his own medicine. To feel what it’s like to be on the receiving end of taunting words that fluster, so you don’t say much more. All you do is stare, waiting for him to break.

“No, that you want me to fuck you,” he corrects almost immediately, his courage returning ten-fold. Doubling down on the way your mouth slightly opens in annoyance, because even in your boldest of moments he still manages to throw you off.

It makes you want to drown yourself instead, realizing just how persuasive he can be. Without trying, it’s as if he’s perfected every potential conversation before it’s happened. In his mind, he can look at a face —hear the beginnings of their voice and already have the correct response at the ready.

“Do you spend all your time thinking of ways to seduce anyone that gives you the time of day?” As you speak, you fully step away, turning on your heel to let out a shaky breath you pray he doesn’t catch.

“Only the attractive ones, I suppose.” He laughs and follows behind, his footsteps echoing through the water as you attempt to catch up with the rest of the group.

“Attractive ones, huh?” You peer over your shoulder with a raised brow. “Is that a genuine compliment you’re offering or another one of your usual deceptions meant to butter me up?”

He doesn’t tell you. Instead, he just offers you a shrug and purses his lips, leaving you guessing —an expression that only tightens the tension that’s seemingly begun to grow.

Well, at least for you.

Since the night you let him feed, even you have to admit that you’ve found it increasingly hard to resist his charms, remembering how good it felt to just let go for a couple of moments. How, when it happened, there was an inkling of freedom that you felt was found. A new sense of clarity that arrived just as your lifeblood left.

As much as you’d deny it if asked, you think about it often. At night, when you’re lying in your tent trying to sleep, you frequently attempt to replicate that feeling, calling upon your tadpole to replay the memory of the cold, numbness deep inside your throat.

As you step out of the water onto a patch of grass, you wish you could feel it now instead of the hangover. Instead of the sweltering heat and Astarion's piercing gaze penetrating the back of your head, waiting for another response he’ll just counter.

It’d certainly make the daily trek you’re experiencing all the more bearable. Being able to forget about the aching in your skull for just a moment would solve at least half of your problems, maybe even two-thirds of them depending on how Astarion proceeds to act. On whether or not he walks in silence or—

“Do you smell that?”

You release a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, feeling your impatience begin to build. “Smell what?”

He loudly sniffs beside you, his nose scrunching upwards dramatically before he turns his head, narrowing his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t smell that?”

“Smell w—“

Before you even have time to react, it hits you. The foul stench of metallic burning through your mouth and nose, forcing you to cover your face with your hands.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?”

You nod, tightening the hold around your face as you continue forward, realizing you’ve somehow lost the rest of the group —something Astarion notices too, causing both of you to slightly panic.

“Oh, for fuck sakes, really? They couldn’t at least wait for us to finish our…”

As he trails off, waving his hand in the air to replace whatever words die in his throat, you catch a glimpse of an unfamiliar man up ahead, watching as the both of you continue.

“They’re probably over the hill,” you point out then, trying your best not to let the sudden nerves inside your chest get the better of you once you see the nameless man raise his hand, beckoning you closer.

“Who the bloody —do you know him?”

You look at Astarion as if he’s just said the stupidest thing known to man, still moving forward. “Ah yes, the mysterious man standing out in the open! Yes, I know him well, why?”

“Alright, no need to be cruel.”

“Says you.”

Once again, his response fades to nothing. The argument slipping down his throat once the voice of the man calls out to you.

“Maybe he saw where the others went?”

Astarion scoffs. “Or maybe he’s the one who’s been setting up all those traps.”

“Traps?”

You don’t remember seeing any traps. But then again, you’re not very perceptive when your head feels like it’s on the verge of splitting in half.

“Yes, traps. The one’s I’ve been guiding you through like a fucking cattle dog!”

Letting your frustrations get the better of you shove him aside before you can think, turning to let both hands lay waste to his shoulder causing him to stumble sideways. As he does, he looks at you with hesitant curiosity; knitting his brows together while his mouth falls open into a half smile.

An awkward laugh sounds through the pounding in your head as the footsteps draw near, prompting you to look ahead, noticing the man a few steps away, looking between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

His words sound sincere —cautious in a way that has you peeling your gaze away from Astarion's wild expression to shake your head.

“No, sorry, just a, uh—“

“A lover’s quarrel,” Astarion finishes. “You know how it is.”

Angrily you inhale, paying his obviously entertained face no mind as you continue to survey the man now in front of you, noticing the plainness of his clothes and the unkempt hair that circles his face like a halo.

It’s apparent then that he’s been on the road for some time now. He’s not necessarily dirty looking but quickly you realize he’s the cause of the smell, making you swallow hard in an attempt to suppress the sickness that follows.

“Ah yes, of course. My apologies.” He laughs —as does Astarion— while you just frown in between, trying not to blow another fuse.

“I’m sorry but can we help you?” You crane your neck and smile sweetly, letting the more deceptive side of your mind take over, prompting Astarion to quickly clue in and do the same.

“I was just speaking to your friends up there. They told me you were falling behind.”

“And that’s your business because?” Raising your brow, you watch him falter for a moment.

“I’ve set some traps along the path. Nothing too hidden if you’ve got a keen eye like all of you, but still, I informed them of their whereabouts.”

Informed them of their whereabouts? Please. This man’s trapping skills are abysmal at best.

You have to bite your lip once you hear Astarion's insult in the back of your mind, knowing he’s right. It’s one thing for him to notice the traps but for the rest of your party to as well? There’s no way they would’ve noticed if not for the lack of effort put into their placings.

“Well, uh, thank you. That’s decent of you.” You nod but make no effort to move. Instead, you just stand there motionless, staring him down, waiting for him to elaborate further so that you can better gauge this man’s intentions.

You’re certain they’re anything but innocent. Given the smell wafting off his leathers and the way he keeps glancing over at Astarion with a slight twinkle in his eye makes your suspicion only grow. Your defensive walls rising to their highest point as you look at the vampire, allowing your tadpole to reach out.

He’s up to something.

“Yes, well, I’m not hunting the likes of you so best avoid the unnecessary conflict and clean up.” The man’s gaze slowly turns to you, a hardened grin creeping through his features, causing you to twitch.

There’s definitely something off. Something far more sinister underneath that polite expression and overly eager attempt at making small talk but you’re still not sure what it is. Or what it means when he offers you his help.

“Fair point, but what are you hunting, may I ask?”

“Something terrifying?” Astarion questions. “Perhaps a dragon or a kobold?”

What if it’s you?

Your partner’s eyes shoot to yours. Immediately, they fill with something you’ve never seen before. Bordering on fear, you’re quick to notice their unexpected vigilance. The building of a thought that drives his mind to something new.

Suddenly in an instant, he’s overly alert, the movements of his shifting pupils making you wonder if maybe this is the man Astarion's been looking out for. That somewhere in his past he took advantage of the wrong person and they’ve been enacting their revenge ever since. Honestly, it’d make sense. Vampires aren’t the most well-liked of creatures, and although, aside from Astarion you’ve never experienced the company of one, it’s become increasingly obvious he’s a special case. A vampire that excels in all deceptive measures and tactics, preying heavily on whatever victims he can get his hands on. So, it wouldn’t be far off to think this man was hired to kill him.

Making use of the tadpole again, you reach out silently, feeling no reluctance as the face of a man appears at the back of your mind, towering over you. Black as the night itself, he shrouds you in an ocean of thick shadows that conceal his face but not his presence, and because of this, there’s a panic that rises through your chest. Clutching your lungs with clawed fingertips that threaten to burst them like balloons.

You force yourself not to look at Astarion as the memory continues —as an angry voice echoes through your ears telling you you’re his. That you belong to him and no one else and that if you so much as step a hair out of line he’ll hunt you down.

Before you can even react the memory fades, leaving you there to piece together the man in the vision and the hunter standing before you, knowing they’re connected by a common enemy. Strung together by a tether of motivation that ties around Astarion's throat like a tightened noose.

He’s not here to kill him but to take him away. To snatch him right under your noses by playing the unsuspecting hero.

“As exciting as those options are, I'm actually on the lookout for a vampire spawn. His name is Astarion but I fear he’s already long gone.”

His confirmation is all you need to let your guard rise further up. Allowing your fingers to stretch against your sides, readying their need to reach for your weapon, you merely nod your head and let Astarion take the reins.

“Oh, what a pity. It’s always like that for creatures to run away at the illest of moments, isn’t it?” He leans in with that same devilish grin, tossing aside all previous fears in favour of this newfound information.

“Isn’t it,” the man parrots, shaking his head with a fake laugh. “Rather unfortunate considering I’m only trying to bring him home.”

“Home?”

The word pours from your lips with such desperation that even the hunter questions your response. Raising his brow, he only slightly leans forward with interest, clicking his tongue as he glances between the two of you. “You wouldn’t happen to know this Astarion character, would you?”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

“Nope.”

You sound like two opposing sides of a coin. Astarion, ever the charmer responds with subtly, the structure of his body remaining calm and collected while you remain a ball of nerves. A tightly wound set of muscle and bone too quick on the draw for your response to be deemed believable.

“He’s dangerous, you know. A wicked thing. Or, so I’ve heard.” He’s speaking solely to you but regardless Astarion continues to control the conversation, pulling it all back with a loud hum.

“Wicked you say? Care to elaborate.”

There’s confusion for a moment. Then acceptance, prompting the man in front of you to explain. “While he’s nothing more than a vampiric spawn, he’s still got quite the head on his shoulders. Cunning, but nothing compared to a real vampire.”

You know Astarion’s fuming beneath his facade then. Eagerly awaiting to rip this man apart, limb by bloody limb once the opportunity arises. You can feel his emotions through the tadpole —the way they pulse in angry waves, threatening to spill out at a moment’s notice.

Almost instantly, it forces you to push him back. Closing your eyes for a second or two, you shift thoughts of comfort to his head, letting him know that you’re there. That if the moment comes where this hunter makes his move you’ll be ready to defend him.

Thankfully, it calms him down —steadies the rousing anger that you know is still there, lingering beneath the surface. Allowing him to take a few breaths, resetting himself for the inevitable.

“I mean, I’m no expert but considering they’re still technically vampires I feel it’s safe to assume you’re still at the risk of… oh, I don’t know, injury? A good maiming perhaps if the spawn were to be particularly famished?”

“You’re not wrong, I suppose. Spawns are particularly powerful compared to the average but considering the sun’s high and dry I’d say we have the advantage.”

“Do we now?”

The two of you share a glance. Astarion's tadpole squirms in time with your own and in an instant a plot is formed.

“Actually, now that you mention it I have heard tell of this Astarion fellow,” you muse, watching the man’s expression. How it changes from innocent hero to hungry hunter at the drop of a hat.

Next to you, Astarion nods his head, echoing your words.

“You don’t say?”

“We were actually a part of a camp not far from here last night. A big group. So, it makes sense why the name didn’t come to me sooner.” You push out a fake laugh, acting as if the whole thing’s some silly little mistake while you wave a hand through the air. “Now that you’ve reminded me though, he was definitely there, lurking about like a little leech.”

You wiggle your fingers for dramatics, earning a scoff inside your mind that has you forcing back a genuine laugh, sensing Astarion’s annoyance.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what way he was going?”

This time Astarion pipes up. “I remember him saying something but, honestly, my uh, memory is a big foggy.”

As he raises a hand to his face, gripping the bridge of his nose, you motion the man to move close. “Perhaps a bit of coin could remind my uh, lover here of the information you seek.”

Lover, huh?

Paying no mind to his internal dialogue, you rub your fingers together to signify your partner’s needs, watching intently as the man leans back and looks at you with slight annoyance before taking a moment, realizing he’s got nothing to lose.

Considering the payout will more than likely cover such costs, he quickly turns his attention to the bag resting on his hip, opening it up with slow hands that you jump at the chance to catch off guard.

Pulling a dagger off your hip, you make no sound as you drive the blade into the side of his throat. All you do is press a hand to his mouth, covering the groans that swiftly coat your fingers in blood, following him toward the ground.

“I’d say be wary the next time you come snooping in other people’s business but I’m afraid it’s too late for that, isn’t it?” you tell him, feeling him struggle. Seeing him reach out to grab the knife that sits tightly in your hand, wedging itself further into the apex of his neck. Suddenly, it makes you realize what you’ve done.

You’ve just killed a man in cold blood. And for the life of another killer, no less. Without so much as a thought, you drove this man straight to his grave, knowing that if you didn’t the probability of him gaining the upper hand would only grow. That if he survived and caught on to your ploy, he could’ve taken Astarion away.

You realize then that you’re anything but ready for something like that to happen. Sure, he may be the cause of a lot of your frustrations throughout the day but somehow he manages to balance them out with his charm. With his innate ability to provide you with a space that’s begun to border the lines of comfort the more time you spend with him.

It’d hurt too much to let him go. But it’d hurt even more knowing he’d be going back to his old life. To the one you still know so little about but feel its pain. The never-ending threat of a figure controlling his every movement. He may not have spared the details but you know the last thing he wants is to find his way back there, so you did what you had to do to prevent that. To keep him safe just as you so subtly promised.

Breathing heavily, you let go of the knife and look toward him, asking him if he’s okay.

“Okay? Darling, you can’t be serious!”

“What?”

He’s kneeling on the ground beside you before anything else, reaching to grab your shoulders, pulling you roughly into his chest. “You just asked that man to pay us money and then jabbed a knife through his throat. If anyone should be asking who’s okay here, it’s me.”

“I’m fine. Are y—“

“Shhh.”

Up until now, it hadn’t occurred to you how badly you’d been shaking. Against his chest, you can feel the tremors of adrenaline take over as your head slowly lowers to his shoulder, releasing a loud and shaky breath.

You know exactly what came over you at that moment. The fear of losing the only person that’s ever made you feel happy despite your flaws became too real and it caused you to lose all sense of preservation.

Almost instantly, you became nothing more than a weapon —a striking blade shoved through opposing flesh. You felt the threat of the moment and your mind flew through all the other possibilities, landing on the only ending where Astarion's safety was ensured.

Realizing this, you slowly move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling him hesitate halfway through.

It’s obvious then you’ve crossed some sort of boundary, so you go to pull away, apologizing under your breath as you feel his grip only tighten.

“Are you okay?”

You’re not sure why he’s asking. Or why he refuses to let you go. “Astarion, I said I’m fine.”

“Yes but are you okay?”

One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, pulling your focus back to him. Forcing you to see the uncharacteristic care inside his eyes as he thumbs your skin. It causes your tadpole to wriggle almost uncontrollably, discovering the connection that’s there. The unspoken bond he shares with you now that you’ve proved your loyalty. It’s enough to earn your honesty. To admit that you’re not okay while he continues to hold you.

You’re not sure why you care so much for him. Maybe it’s the attention he offers in a world where loneliness is often rampant or the way he makes you laugh even during the most unsightly moments. Either way, all you know is that in this moment you’re afraid he’ll hate you for it. For letting the curtain of snide remarks and harsh jokes slip to reveal a body of emotions too big for you to carry by yourself.

“I couldn’t let him take you.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. So inaudible against the sounds of the world around you that for a second you think you’ve spoke to his mind.

“I see that. You struck him before I could even ask him to sweeten the deal.”

“I’m sorry.”

Astarion snorts and moves his hand, letting it glide across your cheek until it finds purchase beneath your chin. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You saw a dangerous man and took charge. Honestly, it was frightening.”

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of?”

“Of me?”

The laugh he lets go of is so full that this time you feel him shake, his frame rattling against yours as he taps your chin. “Not in the slightest, my dear. Impressed, maybe. A little bit turned on too if I’m being frank but no. Not scared.”

TAGLIST: @poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @kay24sstuff @bluestuesday @mopeyghost @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @80spuppetfantasy @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @ghostys1mp @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @sweetrollgal @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @deadglamsheep

(if you'd like to be added to the taglist fill out this form)

#fear of losing it #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #haunted hoedown #summer writes

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 month

Text

Super Soft!Simon Riley x reader - You're terrified that Simon's not making safe choices when he's on deployment, so he comforts you. (fluff, allusion to future smut (barely), drunk johnny, cod inaccuracies)

Johnny recounts the tale of their hard-earned achievement—a victory, as they have deemed it—with a number of beers in his system that you’ve long stopped counting. As he sits at your kitchen table, he is looser, giddier, freer with his words, and spares no detail of your boyfriend’s selfless acts of bravery during their last deployment. Acts that got him shot at; one of those bullets finding their home.

You’d be proud of him, if not for the fear that built up over months from recurring nightmares and an overactive imagination—all of which had you losing the love of your life. But that’s not out of character. You think about yourself, you think about your boyfriend, before you think about the lives he saves when he’s away from you. Maybe it’s wrong, or unfair, but you can’t help it.

While Simon’s work is not something he ever kept secret, you don’t need the reminder that the preservation of his life is not always his priority. It can't be. There are other factors that dictate his future. He has a team, people who depend on him. He has responsibilities and orders to follow. Control is often snatched from his fingertips. And so, what does that mean for the two of you?

You don’t care to think about it. Not tonight. Not at midnight from a friend who should have passed out on your couch hours ago. So you stretch, yawn, and excuse yourself for bed before your brain implodes from any more of Johnny’s ramblings.

Simon knows. He spent the night squeezing your hip each time you tensed in his lap at Johnny’s words, and now, as you stand to head to the bedroom, he holds onto your hand until your fingers slip from his. Deep brown eyes are filled with guilt and apology and all you can offer in return is a slight upturn of the lips that barely qualifies as a smile.

Away from the men, you cry in your and Simon’s shared bed, waiting for him to encourage Johnny to the couch. There's a few more loud laughs, a whine when Simon cuts off his friend's alcohol supply, and then a final groan of acceptance as you hear the springs of your couch squeak under the weight of a muscled body. It’s only when the animated snores of your drunk friend reach your ears that the door to your room creaks on its hinges.

Simon’s footsteps are thumps muffled by carpeting. From your peripherals you see him shed his clothes as he moves to you. Shoes, then t-shirt, then jeans, until he's in his underwear and settling onto the mattress behind you.

His arm slips under yours around your waist and he tugs your back to his chest, into the cocoon of warmth.

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?” he asks, gruff and thick. His voice rumbles from his chest, vibrating against your spine as his breath brushes your ear. “That my life is over.

“Everything I want, everything I need—none of it matters anymore. All because of one look at a woman who was too busy with her friends to notice me,” he says. “I thought, I'm ruined now. If you leave this bar right this second, I won't be able to forget you. And if you don't leave, I can't ever let you go. I didn't know your name and you had me ready to change my whole world for you.”

You sniffle but don't bother to wipe away the tear that escapes. “That's insane, Si,” you whisper.

“It is,” he agrees, pressing a kiss just under your ear. “But it happened. I let you in and you latched on to my entire existence like this beautiful, little parasite. Just like I wanted you to. My life ended and it became our life.

“I don't take a single step without considering you. Not here and not there. So if you think I don't try to be careful when I'm gone, you're wrong,” he tells you. “I try for you. I try for us.”

Yet, ‘trying’ means he still gets injured; he gets another circular scar to add to the healed knife slashes and the burned patch on his upper arm. ‘Trying’ is not always about picking the safer of two options, but about optimizing luck, which is rare enough as it is. And that terrifies you.

“What if you step wrong not knowing that it's wrong?” you ask. “What if you think it's right and then you're gone? You can't tell me that will never happen.”

Simon sighs. “No, I can't. But you trust me, don't you?”

Turning in his arms—your nose nearly nudging his—you place your hand on his cheek and run your thumb along his cheekbone. “Of course I do.”

“Then don't mourn me while I'm still here, love,” he breathes against your lips. “Can you do that for me?”

You nod, because you’d do anything for him.

“Good girl.” Simon smiles lightly and slides his palm from your back down the length of your arm. He squeezes your fingers, then moves further, tucking his hand into the front of your underwear. “My girl,” he whispers and presses his lips to yours.

A/N: i dont usually write different stuff but i felt like it so i did

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley x you #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish

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kaicubus · 8 months

Text

Dating Rodrick Heffley

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : fluff headcanons, cursing.

pairing ✩° : rodrick heffley x fem!reader

authors note ✩° : this is so random but i was on tik tok and i saw an edit of him and i was slapped in the face with this idea!! yiPEEEEE!!!! this is the content i intended on posting when everything settled.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Your parents are convinced that Rodrick is a bad influence on you, and they're right. Being with Rodrick has changed you for the worst and for the better, he’s seen you at your lowest and your highest. But he’s proud of you no matter what happens. In fact, he’s your biggest supporter.

Being over after school every day means you bond really well with his family, and they love you since you seem to have a better influence on him than anything else. I mean, ever since you two started dating, he’s actually been doing his homework and his attendance has significantly improved. That being said, you are definitely a celebrity to Rodrick’s little brother and his friend, Greg and Rowley.

Speaking of the two, you're like their saving grace when it comes to shielding them from the teenage angst that is Rodrick—or in their eyes, the biggest bully they've ever encountered.

There have been many times where Greg tries explaining to you just how bad of a brother Rodrick is, but he never gets farther than a few words before Rodrick slams the door in his face or spills some drink he’s holding onto him.

He’s not that open to listening to your kind of music (if it’s drastically different than the kind of stuff he would listen to) but in secret...in secret he kicks his feet and twirls around imagining you doing the same thing to all the lyrics. He’s a cutie patootie when he’s not being a resentful menace.

Despite that, you spend most of your after school days in Rodrick’s bedroom, garage, or his van just talking about things or listening to him play. He plays a kind of music you never thought you’d listen to before, but have grown to like because not only does he have CDs of all his songs burned into them, but plays other music similar to that genre.

He makes multiple efforts to teach you the guitar with you on his lap and the guitar pressing you both together, but all those times Greg comes in because he wants to try and get on your good side.

If you're not there at band practice, like how you normally are, Rodrick makes all these mistakes and fumbles with playing. Since you're the designated band girlfriend, it’s pretty much a necessity for you to be around him when he practices, otherwise he gets nothing done. Sometimes it’s a problem, but for the most part, you’re like his buff.

Rodrick’s banned from your house because he tried sneaking in your room through your window, but he ended up landing on your mom’s patch of freshly bloomed flowers. When she found out, she wasn’t happy, and even though she tried so hard to excuse his looks, his lack of direction, his rebellious nature, she just couldn’t excuse the sad death of her flower children. So she banned him. Now you guys have to meet in secret or at school or his house, just anywhere not near your house.

He still makes an awkward effort to get your parents to like him, but it never really works out. He either shows up late or shows up with half his clothes missing or drenched in strange fluids because of pranks pulled by his little brother on his way out.

“Mrs. and Mr. L/n—”

“Lime green paint...on my white porch. Can you believe it, honey?”

“Just go, kid.”

“Alright!”

He gives you rides to and from school in his janky ass van, but it’s your only form of transportation so you don’t complain. Everything pretty much happens in that van. Everything.

His form of PDA is wrapping an arm around you loosely and just walking with you, not so much holding your hand. He also really likes just resting his arm on your head or squishing your cheeks together to make funny faces even if it pisses you off sometimes, he thinks it’s cute.

Free band dates!! Meaning that, you get free access to Löded Diper gigs, and the best seats watching your boyfriend and his band mates thrash around. You also get free merch...teehehehehe...

Oddly enough, Rodrick ends up turning soft for you and doing things no one in his family would expect out of him. Like taking you out on drive in dates, or getting you flowers, or just smiling more. Not saying he’s emo or edgy, but he is pretty punkish and reluctant to show any sort of affection. It certainly is off putting to Greg at least.

He asks you to do his eyeliner because you have an unlimited supply of it, and at least he doesn't have to use his mom’s anymore. People can usually tell when you do his eyeliner and when he does it himself; it’s pretty easy to differentiate.

If Rodrick doesn't want to be someplace and is dragged along by his family, the mere mention of you attending the same event makes him suddenly excited to be there. More excited than the planner. He’ll go on tangents about you, and it really doesn’t matter who’s listening. He looks all bad and mean, but as soon as someone talks about you, his face changes completely.

#kaicubus #diary of a wimpy kid #dairy of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x you #headcanons #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley preferences

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Part 6 of childhood friend Simon

“You missed a spot.”

“Like hell I did.”

Simon’s eye twitches as you snort, turning back to your phone. “Some sniper you are, blind bastard.”

The silence stretches for one, two, three…..

“Where?” he sighs.

“Left side of your jaw.” You gesture at the spot just near where it curves, a few centimeters from the corner. He runs his thumb over the spot and finds a patch of stubble.

“Fuck.”

“‘Like hell I did’,” you mock.

He narrows his eyes, points threateningly. “Watch it or I’ll shave an eyebrow.”

You snort, unconcerned. “Remember that time I did shave my eyebrows?”

He smirks as he runs the razor over the bit he missed, double checks he got it, then rinses in the sink.

“Wasn’t it because of some stupid YouTube video?”

“Yes, and I still have nightmares about having to draw them in.”

He nearly snorts water everywhere trying not to laugh, quickly wiping his face off with the towel you hand him.

“Didn’t your mum start calling you caterpillar girl?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized.

“Simon Riley you swore you’d never bring that up again!”

He laughs outright as you chase him from the bathroom, whacking him in the arm. When he puts his hands up in mock surrender, you give him one last swat for good measure.

“Assaulting a military officer is illegal.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re legally dead, aren’t you? So wouldn’t that be desecrating a corpse?”

“I’ll have to ask Laswell.”

“Or we could ask Johnny. I bet he’ll know.”

The implication of Johnny knowing versus having an opinion is not something Simon’s equipped to parse before his first cuppa.

“Johnny’s just gonna side with you.”

You shrug - because it’s true. Johnny may be Simon’s (other) best friend, but he’s also a shithead that takes every opportunity to fuck with Ghost. And with you around “protecting” him, he’s been an absolute bastard.

“Then we’ll ask Gaz and John too,” you offer as you step into your shoes.

You’ve been lining them up next to his boots off to the side. The contrast of big, black leather next to your much smaller trainers would be almost comedic if it didn’t make his chest warm.

A reminder that you’re here with him, in a place he usually spends all his time wishing to see you. He’s called you countless times on the same bed you’ve been sharing for the past week. And now you’re wearing his official SAS hoodie (complete with his name on the back) and invading his wardrobe, about to go with him to breakfast in the mess.

Johnny, in a shocking twist, doesn’t think it’s desecrating a corpse to smack Simon.

“Well, he’s Ghost, aye? So it’d be exorcising him, no?”

Your eyes go all big as you turn to Simon with unholy delight. He makes a mental note to throw Johnny onto the mat once more than usual during their next spar.

That’ll have to wait though, because he’s promised you range time and then the obstacle course. Johnny tags along, interested to see your marksmanship when Simon’s talked it up so much.

He watches on, pride bright and hot in his chest, as you walk through all the steps he’s taught you. It’s even his favorite gun in your steady hands, fingers elegant as you load, chamber. Click the safety off and settle into your preferred stance.

The first two shots hit the target, though off to the side, the second closer to center than the first. You pause, take a breath before he even says anything. Then fire again. And again. And again. Until the mag is empty and he brings the paper target back.

A neat cluster of 15 holes, dead center.

“Atta girl,” he rasps, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss against your hair.

“I did good?” you ask, beaming.

“Lass, even those first two would have been the end of some poor sod,” Johnny chimes in, patting your shoulder. “Guess the LT isn’t such a bad teacher after all.”

Simon narrows his eyes. “Was that even a question?”

Johnny shoves the ammo box at you. “A pint says you can’t do it again.”

“You’re on!”

—

The obstacle course is slightly less of a success.

“Oh, hey, Si,” you giggle, clinging onto the rope for dear life. “Ya come here often.”

He snorts. “Did you get stuck?”

“No!” You huff, scowling. “Im just… hanging around.”

He’s enjoyed watching you navigate the course - more importantly, he likes that you enjoy climbing around. Even if he’s had a small heart attack every time your foot slips or you wobble.

“Oi, you’re holding up traffic,” Gaz huffs, rapping his knuckles against your foot.

“Do you mind?” you call back. “Im telling Simon bad jokes.”

“Oh, by all means then.”

Simon snorts, jerks his head for you to continue. Johnny laughs as you shimmy along, laughs harder when you almost fall flipping him off.

Once you make it to the other side, Gaz climbs up after you and starts demonstrating how to do the next section. Simon and Johnny follow along, the latter cheering you on.

Movement from the corner of his eye draws his attention; Price, determined set to his shoulders. Simon recognizes the glint in his eye.

“Got ‘em?” Simon asks, hopeful.

Having you spend all day with him on base has been a subconscious fantasy come true. You, close by and safe, under 24/7 guard. But the circumstances have made his skin crawl, made it difficult to enjoy the novelty. Woken him up in the small hours of the night and hug you as close as he can without waking you.

“Fuckin’ got ‘em,” Price confirms. “Laswell’s got the docket prepped. All that’s left it briefing and prep. You can be wheels up in a few hours.”

Simon cracks his neck, anticipation sparking in his veins. His gaze slides to you, to his teammates helping you down from the wall. Price follows your gaze.

“You good for this one, Simon? Got your head on straight?”

Simon flicks him a look. “You know I’m good.”

“I know Ghost is good. What about Simon?”

He blinks, gaze going back to you. You can tell already even from a distance, by the set of his shoulders, that something is going on. You’re still relaxed, but there’s a questioning curve to your mouth as you stop at his side, fingers curling in the sleeve of his shirt.

“Something happened?” you ask.

“We found the group targeting you.”

“Oh!” You arch your eyebrows, eyes bouncing between him and Price. “You’ll be taking care of it, then?”

Simon turns back to Price, a silent “well?”.

“We’ll discuss strategies during the brief.”

You perk up. “Do I get to come?”

“Might as well,” Price sighs. “Let’s go.”

—

In the end, of course Simon is going to go. You’re his girl, always have been. He trusts his team, but when it comes to you, he’ll see this done right. And the only way to be sure, the only way to have peace, is for him to eliminate the threat himself.

Johnny’s coming along, of course. The slightest bit of tension in your shoulders eases when Price decides it. Simon presses his thigh into yours.

When the brief is done, strategies and timelines set, you follow him back to his barrack. He gears up while you sit on the bed, idly inspecting his vest while he straps into everything else.

“Nervous?” he asks.

You tilt your head back and forth considering. “Not more than usual before you leave. It seems like this is pretty standard for you, more or less. Why, should I be nervous?“

He snorts. That’s his girl. “No.”

You hum, picking at the Velcro of his SAS patch. He pauses, watches your face. You’re not anxious, but there’s… something.

“What’s up, buttercup?” he asks, chucking you gently under the chin.

“I…” you pause, hum. Try again. “I don’t like that you’re going out just because of me.”

He frowns, settles on the edge of his bed. You lean with the dip in the mattress, pressing warm and solid against his side.

“I feel like… like I messed up somehow, and now you have to fix it for me.”

He blows out a breath, yanking the mask off. You tilt your head to look at him, eyes soft, the tiniest frown on your face. He peels his glove off too, to cup your cheek. Revels in the warmth and smooth skin against his scars and callouses, always a little surprised when you lean into it.

“I’d get you world peace if you asked for it,” he replies.

“You’d be out of a job,” you half-joke.

“You are my job, daft thing.” He shakes his head, leans in until he can thunk his forehead gently against yours. “You’re what brought me back from the grave. Knew I still had work to do, that you still needed taking care of.”

You sniffle a bit. Always do when he digs up the words to remind you how much you mean to him. Not that he thinks you ever doubt it. How could you? But sometimes, he thinks, it bears repeating.

“You haven’t made a mess, luv. But even if you did, I’m always right here with a mop, yeah?”

He’d burn alive just to keep you warm. Drown to fetch you a glass of water. Anything, everything. Just so long as you’re still here, still his.

“I’ll take care of this and then come home to you. Due for a holiday anyway.”

You close your eyes, a faint little smile tilting your lips. He can’t look away. Never can.

“We can go on that camping trip you’ve been talking about,” you say.

“Yeah, luv. Toast marshmallows like the old days.”

You hum, a proper smile finally blooming across your face.

“Okay,” you murmur. “Promise you’ll come back. Both of you.”

“Promise. Be good for Price while I’m gone.”

You open your eyes, a mischievous sparkle in them. “We’ll see.”

—

You see him off on the tarmac, serene and assured. Stripped of faith and belief, there is one certainty in your life, always and forever. And it’s Simon. He’s going to come home to you, because he promised he would.

“Raise hell, Si.”

“Already raised the dead,” he muses, hell shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Aye, I’ve got just the C-for it.”

You groan at the joke, but don’t deny Johnny a parting hug and peck on the cheek. “Look out for each other.”

“Will do, hen.”

You don’t hug or kiss Simon. Don’t need to, you’ve said your goodbyes. You squeeze his hand and then step back as he heads for the plane with Johnny chattering all the way.

“Alright, little miss?” Price asks when it’s just the two of you.

“Always,” you reply, turning to smile at him.

You have to be, for Simon.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #childhood friend simon #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader

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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

Text

Nurse Nightingale | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Someone wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you realize it's James looking for help you don't have the heart to refuse him

Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, blood, bruising, cuts, mentions of violence, insinuations of smut

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I'm currently using the uni holiday as an excuse not to study so now I'm writing non-stop instead. Not quite smut but sorta if you're willing to squint

*Knock knock*

You turn around, looking at the clock on the bedside table. Who the hell is knocking on the door at 3 AM?

*Knock knock*

You turn onto your stomach, pushing your pillow over your head in an attempt to block out the noise.

*Knock knock*

It’s louder this time, more determined, and you hear someone speak: “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He’s rambling a bit, he sounds tired as well. A shiver goes through your body at hearing his voice, his voice always seems to mess with your head in a way nothing else can.

“What are you doing here James? It’s 3 AM.” You ask, through the still closed door, your voice dripping with sleep. “Just, please, open the door..” He sounds desperate this time, so you decide to do what he asks. You stand up, maybe a little too fast, making your head spin, and walk towards the door. You open it, meaning to step aside to let him in, but when you see him illuminated by the hallway, you freeze. He’s bleeding, a cut starting at his nose and going diagonally underneath his eye, he’s straightened his glasses but there's a crack in them, another bruise at his temple, one on his lips, those soft lips you always think about, even a bruise below his ear on his cheek masking his jawline. “What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” You hear yourself whisper, more at yourself than him. “It’s nothing..” he slures out “.. just wanted to see you.” You move aside to let him into the empty room and he takes the opportunity, walking towards the bed, but not before grabbing you by your waist and giving you a quick, but passionate kiss. He takes you by surprise with it, your mind still trying to wrap around what happened, and your body falls into him, making him hiss from the cut on his upper lip, but he doesn't seem to want to stop regardless.

He sits down on your bed when he breaks the kiss, and you turn on the bedside lamp to get a better look at him. Small bruises are forming on his arms, and his muscles seem strained, his exhausted body melting into the bedding.

“Lay down, I’ll be right back.” you mumble at him before moving to the other side of your room where you left your wand. After a little searching, you find it, but with how tired you are, you’re not sure how much you trust yourself with it. You remember the small first aid kit in your bathroom, and move to get it before making your way back to James.

You see him struggling to take his jumper off, and move over to help him with it. Once it’s off he moves to lie down, and you put some extra pillows under his head, making him sit up a little more before pouring the sterilizer on a towel. You look over at him again, and wonder about how you’re going to do this, when you see him stretch his arm out to you. You take his hand and he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him and giving me the perfect position to patch him up.

You look at his chest, covered in blooming bruises, and when the towel hits the few open wounds, he groans a little, instinctively moving his hands to your hips to ground himself. His eyes are closed, and even though he looks like he should be in pain, he seems relaxed.

He stays quiet the whole time, only the occasional hiss or groan leaving him. And when you’re done, having put everything back in its proper place, he asks you silently: “Can I please stay over” “Of course you can, I’m not letting you wander back in this state.” you tell him while moving to lie down beside him. He doesn’t seem satisfied though, and pulls you in even closer.

After a few more minutes of silence, you ask him: “Jamie, what the hell happened to you..?” “It’s, it’s nothing, really, just-" He seems a little hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “There, there were these guys…” He sounds a little angry, but you still don’t know what he’s talking about. “Do you remember the party that was going on, earlier tonight?” “Of course I do.” you tell him. You had gotten tired early, and decided to head to bed while the others stayed a while longer. “Well, turns out some of the Slytherins had noticed you, and they were talking about you.” He seems even angrier now, you remember this look, it’s similar to the look he got when he lost the Quidditch house cup, except this seems more personal somehow. “They were talking about you, telling their stuck-up friends all the things he would do to you- calling you names and saying how he-” you see him clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. “He was telling them how he would-, bloody hell, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. But I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I, well, I may have punched him.” “You did what?” you ask him, not fully wanting to believe what he’s telling you. Sure, he get detention often enough, but never for fist fights, he doesn't get in fist fights. “I punched him, and I got into a fight with him and his friends.” The hesitance is back now, replacing his anger. “I’m sorry y/n, but I couldn’t stand him saying those kinds of things about you.” You smile a little, and he looks confused. “You got into a fight to defend my honour, Potter?” Your smile only growing. He only nods and you don’t hesitate to lean in, kissing him softly. You can still taste the blood on his tongue, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either.

You shift over, and he pulls you in to straddle his lap once again. You give him a quiet “I love you” in between kisses. He doesn’t need to say it back this time, his actions having spoken louder than words.

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leqonsluv3r · 2 months

Text

nsfw alphabet

an: happy valentine’s day my lovelies!! i’m working on the oneshot currently but i thought i could get this out to tide you guys over until then. :,)) but ily all mwah mwah xx have a great day my loves. also imagine whatever leon u want, i just used re4 for aesthetic purposes <33

masterlist taglist

MDNI BELOW!!! 18+ only, istg.

A — aftercare (what are they like after sex?)

leon is BIG on aftercare, especially if he was rough with you. he’ll caress your body and make sure your doing okay. he will even sprinkle your face in kisses and tell you how good you did afterwards. he loves making sure you know that he enjoys these moments with you. also cuddles, just know this man needs it after the trauma he has endured.

B — body part (their favorite part of their partners body)

leon loves your lips and your tits, know this man loves every inch of you. but if he had to choose, it would definitely be your lips and your boobs. he’s definitely a boob guy, i just have a feeling.

your favorite part of him, his arms and his back, you love coating it in scratches (and he lets you). and you love how safe you feel when he holds you, not just during sex but all the time.

C — cum (what do they…do with it? or think of it?)

leon loves coming inside of you, manz cannot get enough of it. he loves watching you beg beneath him to fill you up. but if he had to have it his way, he’d cum all over your pretty tits and lick them clean of his spend.

D — dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

leon hates to admit it, but he loves those special times when he’s too exhausted and you just take control in the bedroom. he doesn’t like to admit it, but it gets him hard to think about you being dominant with him.

E — experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

leon is definitely experienced, he uses that to his advantage when he pins you down, bends you over, etc. he knows what he’s doing and he’s not afraid to show you that if your testing his patience.

F — favorite position (do i even have to explain?)

leon loves any position in sex with you, hell, the man is practically addicted to you. he takes you from behind, in missionary, etc. but if he had to pick, it would be when he puts you in a mating press and hits that spot that makes you see stars and makes your pretty face fall into moans and whines. he just loves seeing you fall apart and this position is perfect for that.

G — goofy (are they serious in the moment? or are they more goofy?)

leon is definitely serious at times when he has sex with you. but there are times when he’s kissing you and hears you let out little giggles that make his heart melt and he can’t deny how wide his grin gets. so therefore, he has his silly moments.

H — hair (how well groomed are they?)

leon is definitely groomed. he has hair where it counts; a small patch above his cock, beautiful and trimmed and a happy trail. he doesn’t have hair on his chest but he has some hair on his arms, a beautiful feeling when you run your hands over it. you don’t find it gross, it’s just the right amount of body hair on a man you want. he has some stubble when he doesn’t shave for a few days and when he’s eating you out, it definitely adds pleasure. (he doesn’t shave until afterwards for this reason entirely)

I — intimacy (how are they doing during the moment? the romantic aspect)

when leon first had sex with you, it was something that he took with intimate care. making sure you could take him in his entirety, checking on you and pressing kisses to your neck. he would keep his eyes on you the entire time. he still has moments when you guys have sex, his eyes finding yours and practically melting at the way you fall apart beneath him.

J — jack off (do they masturbate?)

when your not home; out with friends, working, etc. he does jackoff, he fists himself to the thought of you. imagining his hand is your mouth, your hand, or your pussy. he has no qualms, he doesn’t care. not even if you catch him doing it.

K — kinks (how many kinks do they have? what are they?)

leon definitely has a breeding kink, especially if you guys are married. he thinks that if he fucks you enough times, that it’ll finally take and you’ll have his kid. he doesn’t know where this kink came from, but you definitely don’t mind it, if anything it’s one of the many things you like when you have sex with him.

L — location (favorite places to do it)

leon loves fucking you in the bed. on the couch, anywhere really. he will find a spot and fuck you. even when your out in public, he’ll take you to a bathroom with a lock on it and fuck you, let you suck him off or even eat you out like a five course meal. mans has no chill when it comes to you, public sex or not.

O — oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? are they good?)

speaking of man’s eating, he loves giving you head. absolutely adores you. the sounds you make, the way you fist his hair, your eyes squeezed shut and dripping tears of pleasure, your back arched. he loves making you fall apart.

but he also loves receiving it, letting you get on your knees and suck him off, his hand going into your hair and holding you there as you make him fall apart. the way your eyes look up at him, all doe eyes and innocent, makes him cum in your mouth every single time.

P — pace (are they fast and rough? or slow and sensual?)

leon is fast if he wants to be. if you’ve been a brat all day, teasing him, he’ll take you as soon as your in the door. he’s fast and efficient. but there are mornings when his morning wood digs into your back and he just lazily fucks you from behind, slow and steady but still making you fall apart effortlessly.

Q — quickie (do they like quickies? how often if they do?)

leon loves quickies, especially in the morning after you both wake up. before you both have to wake up, and he has his morning wood. he loves to just lazily slip it in from behind you and pound into you from behind until you both fall apart. (goes hand in hand with pace 100%). but if he’s impatient, he’ll bend you over the kitchen table and just fuck you right there. he doesn’t even care if the window in his apartment is open.

R — risk (are they interested in experimenting? if so how far do they go?)

leon is open to experimenting, anything you wanna try/are open to trying. leon definitely wants to try anal with you, knowing you’d be open to it. any of your holes he can fill, he will. definitely is an ass man/tit man equally and wants to do anything with you.

S — stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

leon can definitely last longer then most, he has undeniable stamina. it’s gotten worn down over the years and it’s hard for him not to just cum the moment he enters you. but he definitely has stamina and can last three or four rounds before tapping out. definitely has something to do with all those years of training.

T — toys (do they own toys? if so, for their pleasure or their partners?)

leon didn’t add toys into his sexual encounters until you, he didn’t have the use or the need. he would just use his fist. but with you, he has a couple vibrators, a butt plug and a remote control vibrator. he loves teasing you with it when your being a brat, making you whine and beg for his cock.

U — unfair (do they like to tease? how much?)

leon loves to tease, especially when your being all whiny and desperate. basically clawing and pawing at his clothes like a wild animal. it’s a little ridiculous how much you want him, he’s so keen on teasing you, kissing your neck, biting down and marking the skin. he loves sucking on your tits, hearing your little sounds. it makes him hard as a rock, he does it until your absolutely begging for his cock.

V — volume (how loud are they? what do they sound like?)

leon is absolutely not above making sounds when he fucks, when he snaps his hips into yours. he can’t help but release a groan or a loud noise of some kind. but he’s not as loud as you, your definitely louder then him and he thanks god that his apartment walls are not so thin.

W — wild card (a thing you wouldn’t expect from them? in bed or otherwise)

when leon fucks you, especially from behind, he loves pushing his thumb into your ass (manz loves anal for some unknown reason), and it makes him audibly groan at the sounds you make while he snaps his hips into you. knowing that you love what he’s doing more then he lets on. he also loves fucking in the kitchen??? (again, for some unknown reason).

X — x-ray (what goes on beneath the clothes? what’s beneath the surface?)

beneath the surface leon was a soft six pack, it’s gotten less defined over the years as he’s slowed down a little in his missions. his facial structure definitely changed but he’s still as handsome as he ever was. he has muscle’s from all the running, heavy lifting and missions he goes on. his dick, very different story, he’s very thick and (i like to personally think that) it’s maybe seven or eight inches long, girthy, and does enough to satisfy you.

Y — yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

leon has a decently normal sex drives. but there are times when he feels like he just has to fuck you until he can’t feel his cock anymore. normally it’s about 5 times a week but when he’s really aching for you it’s about 9 times, it gets up there.

Z — zZzZ (how quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

if leon’s comfortable and he usually is after he has sex with you, he curls up in your arms, cuddling with you and holding you. he definitely is protective over you considering his job, so he takes these moments in your arms with gratitude. but he drifts off when you do when he knows your safe and content. he considers it an honor to fall asleep in your arms after you guys have sex, a very intimate moment.

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #re2 leon #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #re2 remake #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n

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nochukoo97 · 9 months

Text

nevertheless;

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

summary: jungkook has a hard time showing how much he really does care for you, but at the same time you can’t help but convince yourself your best friend will never love you back the same way you do, or will he?

word count: 5k+

teaser

“Stay here,” You command Jungkook, who’s currently pouting a little too dramatically as he sulks on the bench.

“Don’t move,” You look back, giving him a stern gaze as you make your way to get the first aid kit near the soccer field.

Jungkook had been roughhousing with his teammates, they had been play-wrestling on the soccer field for a good half an hour, not before someone actually got hurt.

And that someone was your best friend, Jeon Jungkook.

So now you have the duty to patch up the guy, who had been insisting his bleeding cut would magically heal on its own.

You refuse to leave it untreated.

When you jog back to where Jungkook was waiting, you spot him crouched near the patch of grass, a few steps away from the bench you had instructed him to sit on.

“Yah! Are you a puppy or something? I told you to sit still!” You scold him, and he quickly whips his head around and frowns,

“I only took like three steps away! I swear I sat there for really long, just got distracted,” He’s whining, sitting back on the bench as he gives you those innocent puppy eyes.

It’s on purpose, to make you stop nagging at him.

“Don’t trick me into not scolding you,” You flick his forehead gently, “What if you fell and hurt yourself again, huh?”

Jungkook scoffs, “Yah, I’m not that fragile, in fact, it’ll probably be you who would be falling,”

He crosses his arms, looking away from you.

“Okay, then fix yourself up,” You shove the first aid kit into his crossed arms, forcing him to quickly catch it before it falls onto the ground.

Jungkook settles the box next to him before dramatically clutching his cheek.

“Ahh” He hisses, eyebrows furrowing as he touches the bleeding cut on his cheek.

“Yah! Don’t touch it! You’ll get it infected! Aish-” You sigh, swatting his hand away as he looks back up at you with those eyes again.

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head at the boy looking up at you, “Stay still,”

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face the whole time you clean up his cut, even when the alcohol stung his cut, causing him to hiss and grab onto your smaller hand, his eyes never left your pretty face.

He notices the glow on your face from the spot light above the soccer field, your lips slightly pink from the tinted lip balm you bought when the both of you went to the mall. Your eyelashes look more curled than usual, maybe you used the curler you had bought when you dragged him into the makeup store.

Your eyes are focused on repairing the cut on his face, Jungkook stares right into them in a daze.

“Okay, done,” You whisper to yourself, turning to scan his face, but Jungkook has love struck eyes as he stares back at you.

“Kook,” Your voice snaps him out of his daze.

“Yeah?”

“You’re done,” You pat his shoulder, getting him to stand up.

“Thanks, ___” He smiles sweetly at you, making your heart thump in your chest.

He’s your best friend, you shouldn’t be feeling this way.

Jungkook stands up, his stance now towering over you, as he walks towards the grass patch.

You watch as he bends down, picking up something from the grass and hiding it behind his back as he walks back to you.

“Here’s my thank you gift,” Jungkook grins at you, revealing what he was hiding, a bunch of small flowers that he had plucked while you went to get the first aid kit.

“Oh? Thanks Koo,” You smile, taking the flowers from him.

Jungkook ruffles your hair, before bidding goodbye, telling you to not go home too late.

You stare at the flowers in your hand as you clutch your poor heart, beating way too fast.

Maybe you have a chance with him.

You should definitely not be eavesdropping on this conversation right now, but you can’t help yourself, after all, your name coming from Jungkook’s voice caught your attention.

“Yah, so do you like her?” There’s an unrecognisable voice in a hushed whisper, probably one of Jungkook’s friends

“Nah, she’s my friend,”

Ouch, that fucking hurt.

You could’ve gone about your day not knowing this, yet you’re somewhat happy that you did, or else you would still have the slightest glimpse of hope that he would even like you.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces.

You and Jungkook had made plans to go over to his house today, something you two often did on a weekly basis. Yet with what you heard just now, you seriously did not feel like getting your heart played again.

jungkook: we’re watching that kdrama i told you about later kay

You read his text, before looking up, locking eyes with him from where he was sitting, all the way at the other end of the classroom.

Shit, don’t fall for his antics.

You look back down at your phone, replying:

you: okay

You quickly lock your phone and shove it into your bag before your professor can catch you.

The phone now in your bag vibrates again, Jungkook’s looking at you expectedly, waiting for a reply. Instead, you ignore the buzzing, looking straight at the board filled with math equations.

When the class ends, Jungkook immediately rushes to your table, as the classroom clears, the rest of the students all rushing out to go home.

“Yah, why didn’t you answer my text,” He drags the chair near your table and sits nexts to you, but you don’t even spare him a glance, shrugging as you focus on packing up your stuff.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jungkook frowns, noticing a change in your mood, you obviously were dejected about something, but he simply couldn’t piece it together.

You don’t respond to that, you don’t know what your answer is to that question. Technically he didn’t do anything wrong, he had a choice in his feelings towards you, but he also was the reason why you felt this way.

“I think I’m gonna go home, sorry,” You whisper, not daring to look at him.

“What? Why? Did I make you mad? Or is it Junghyeon?” He’s panicking, you can tell, you feel bad for making him feel as if he had done something wrong, even though he had technically done nothing wrong.

You frown at the name mentioned.

Junghyeon was your ex boyfriend, he had been nasty to you throughout the relationship, and Jungkook had been the one to help you out of it. He had been the one to open your eyes and realise what a shit boyfriend Junghyeon was. Even up to now Jungkook will defend you if Junghyeon talks shit and spreads rumours about you.

Another reason to feel bad for treating Jungkook so differently all of a sudden. Just because of what you heard while eavesdropping. You had no reason to treat him this way, yet it fucking hurt your heart everytime he gave you butterflies, when in your head you’re telling yourself, he doesn’t like you like that.

“It’s nothing Kook, just, I’m gonna head back,” You sigh, swinging your bag over your shoulder, as Jungkook stands up with you, holding your arm.

“Let go,” You struggle against his hold, but he doesn’t let you leave.

“Not until you tell me why you’re being like that,” He shakes his head, eyes filled with concern and panic, he doesn’t know what happened, not a single clue.

“It’s nothing Kook, just let me go,” You almost sneer at him, before running out of the classroom.

Jungkook can only stand there in confusion, his heart aches slightly, but he refuses to give up.

“Jeon, come with us to eat lunch,” He looks up after a moment of silence, realises Mingyu was standing at the entrance, waiting for his reply.

“Nah I’ll pass-“

“Come on Jeon, you haven’t hung out with me for a really long time,” Mingyu wraps his arm around Jungkook’s shoulder, dragging the dejected boy out of the classroom.

Jungkook would much rather be with you right now, finding out what made you so cold all of a sudden, to reconcile whatever happened to make you mad, to cuddle and hug you, to comfort you and hear you laugh and smile again.

Instead, he’s stuck with Mingyu sitting next to him, as Mingyu’s friends shamelessly flirt with him.

He’s frankly sick and tired of having to attend to these girls who he had zero interest in.

Sure they weren’t ugly, but their personalities weren’t the prettiest either.

“So, Jungkookie,” The girl sitting opposite him coos, he frowns at the nickname, he doesn’t even remember her fucking name.

“Do you like girls with short hair or long hair?” She flicks her hair, both girls flirting with him having kind of short hair, shoulder length and a little longer.

“Long hair,” He replies with a monotonous voice, staring blankly at them.

“Oh,”

Jungkook wants to let out a laugh, but he holds himself back.

You’re laying on your bed, sulking and tearing up. You don’t even know why you’re crying over this stupid thing. You didn’t even get rejected, but you did get rejected indirectly by hearing what Jungkook had said to the unknown person.

You open up your phone, going on Instagram in hopes to distract yourself from breaking down, but the first story that you open up just has to be Mirae’s instagram, with a picture of Jungkook and Mingyu on the story.

He’s out with Mirae. He’s not looking at her camera though, both him and Mingyu busy on his phone showing each other something.

But she’s sitting opposite him, it’s practically a date.

Jungkook’s on a date with Mirae, the girl who clearly had a huge crush on him, you concluded.

Great, great fucking great.

You sigh, closing your eyes as tears escape the corners of your eyes.

The next time you wake up, your vision is slightly groggy, as you sit up and rub your eyes, stretching.

The smell of noodles waft into your nose, shit, did you leave the stove on or something?

As you walk out of the room, you halt in your steps.

You recognise the man who has his back faced towards you, cooking in your kitchen, in your apartment.

It’s Jungkook.

“___?” Jungkook calls out, tilting to try to see if you were standing in the hallway.

You quickly run back into the room, shutting the door behind you and climbing back into bed.

What was he doing here?

You should have never given him the password to your apartment.

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest. You can’t fucking hide from him anymore because he’s in your house, why must he play with your heart so much?

When the door to your room creaks open, you quickly duck below your blanket, in a pathetic attempt to make it seem as if you were sleeping.

“___, come on, I heard you in the hallway,” You hear Jungkook’s voice, slightly muffled from you hiding under the covers. You hear him set something down, the smell of noodles stronger than before.

He doesn’t let the small flowers placed on your desk go unnoticed. You kept the flowers he gave you.

Even though it’s childish, you refuse to answer him.

Jungkook pulls down the blanket to reveal your messy hair, the back of your head facing him. You attempt to pull the blanket back up but he’s too strong.

“Come on, don’t be mad at me,” Jungkook tries to convince you to come out of the blanket, but you stubbornly refuse.

He reaches out to card his fingers through your messy hair, but you move away from his touch, whining when his fingers get stuck halfway through a knot.

“Oww,” You’re whining, clutching the area as Jungkook shushes you.

“At least sit up, I’ll help you get rid of it,” He’s really trying everything to get you to talk to him, he will sit here and keep trying forever until you give in.

“No,” Your voice wobbles, eyes watering with frustration. Why was he here, you’re going to get your heart shattered into a million pieces all over again.

“Why’re you being so difficult, hmm?” Jungkook sighs, sitting back and leaving you to curl up into a ball.

“Go away,” You tried to sound angry, but with the tears slowly running down your cheeks, there’s a sob that comes uncontrollably right after.

“Hey, why are you crying?” Jungkook’s face is now full of concern, he manages to untangle you from the blankets, as you struggle against his hold.

“Shh, it’s okay, don’t push me away, my body still hurts from that day,”

Jungkook has your head buried into his chest, you want to punch him, but when he reminds you of that day, when you had gently patched him up, you don’t dare to struggle against him anymore.

You can feel his hand rubbing up and down against your back as you clutch onto his shirt. You can smell his cologne, the one the both of you had picked when you went on a school vacation.

“If you don’t wanna tell me what’s wrong right now that’s okay, just let me take care of you ‘kay?”

You weakly nod, mentally cursing at yourself for foolishly giving up fighting against him.

Jungkook pulls you out of his lap, settling you in between the pillows on your bed and pulling the blanket to cover your body as you sit, waiting for his next move.

He grabs the bowl of noodles placed on your bedside table, picking up a few strands with the chopsticks and blowing on it gently.

Jungkook brings the chopsticks near your mouth, but you keep your mouth shut, refusing to give in to him again.

“I know you didn’t eat dinner, quickly eat now or else you’d have acid reflux like the last time,” You cringe internally remembering how you were hunched over the toilet crying, as he held your hair back, shushing your sobs.

You comply in the end, opening your mouth and letting Jungkook feed you.

“Good girl,” He whispers, using his thumb to swipe away the drop of soup at the corner of your mouth.

Fuck, he’s making you go crazy. Good girl? Does he want you to go insane?

You gulp down the noodles, looking up at him as you make eye contact. Jungkook scans your face, wiping the tear threatening to fall further down your cheek.

“Don’t cry already, come on, let’s put on the show while you eat,”

He reaches for the remote on the other side of the bed, his body hovering over yours for a few seconds before he’s back next to you, eyes trained onto the TV and switching to the mentioned show.

You both watch the show as he slowly feeds you the noodles. You want to tell him it tastes amazing, that you want to kiss him for pampering you despite having treated him so coldly before. You simply just let yourself be taken care of by Jungkook, already anticipating getting your heart broken again when he leaves.

When you finish the bowl of noodles, Jungkook slots himself next to you under the covers, pulling you so that your head was now resting against his chest, both of you watching the show playing on the TV in front of your bed.

You aren’t sure if Jungkook can hear your heart going crazy in your chest but you sure can.

You shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be cuddling with your best friend who clearly doesn’t like you.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?” He looks down at you, pausing the show.

“Is this what friends do?”

Jungkook frowns at you, leaning back to look at you properly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t be cuddling and all this, we clearly aren’t a couple or anything, and you don’t like me like that, so we shouldn’t-“

Before you can continue, Jungkook’s lips are crashing down on you.

What?

He pulls back, looking straight into your eyes,

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” Your eyes are widened, you haven’t even fully processed what just happened

“Why did you say that? Who said I didn’t like you?” He frowns at you, as if he did not just kiss you in the midst of you talking

Now you’re even more confused, “Don’t lie to me Kook, you don’t have to pretend that you like me just because I do,”

You curse under your breath for letting the last part slip out.

“I’m serious ___, why would you think I don’t?” Jungkook’s shocked, firstly at you admitting you like him back, but more importantly, the fact that you had the audacity to even believe he wasn’t crazy for you.

“I heard you talking to someone and you told them you didn’t like me,”

Jungkook sighs, grabbing your hands in his, “____, of course I wouldn’t tell Yongjae that, I barely know him,”

You slip your hands out of his,

“I think you like Mirae,” You scoff at him

“What?” He’s genuinely confused, the name not being familiar to him

You whip out your phone, showing him the instagram story, your heart clenches a little when you see the photo.

“Oh so that’s her name, why the fuck would she take a photo of me,” He grumbles, grabbing your phone from your hand and screenshotting the story and saving it into your camera roll

“___ I swear I didn’t even know her until today, Mingyu asked me to go out with him and apparently they followed along, I swear I didn’t even know her fucking name, do you know her? Why would she take a picture of me without asking? She was really weird with me you know,”

The whole time he’s rambling on and on, everything was beginning to piece together.

“___, I fucking love you so much, I only said that to Yongjae because I knew he would be a big mouth and tell everyone, and I obviously didn’t want you to find out that way, and I don’t like Mirae at all, in fact, all she did was make me fucking uncomfortable with her horrible flirting skills, I love you, please ____,” Jungkook grabs your hands again, searching your face for a reply.

“Prove it to me then, I’ll give you a chance to show me that you really do love me,” You’re trying your best to hold back from simply just confessing back to him, yet it seemed too good to be true that Jungkook, your best friend, liked you back the same

“I will,” Jungkook nods, but his heart aches internally, he truly did love you so much, it hurt him to know you were hesitating so much

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers, his face inches away from yours,

“Okay” You whisper back, leaning to lock your lips with his

Maybe everything would turn out okay

jungkook: don’t sleep too late okay? love you ❤️

Just as you closed the front door of your apartment and bid goodbye to Jungkook, of course he had sent you a text immediately.

You find yourself smiling unconsciously at the text, before quickly replying:

you: okay, see you tomorrow :)

Your phone lights up again,

jungkook: i love you

jungkook: you didn’t reply my first ‘love you’ ☹️

You laugh to yourself, replying

you: okay fine, i love you too ❤️

you: so eager to profess your love? 😏

Jungkook immediately types back, he’s standing outside your front door still, hearing your muffled laughter from behind the door.

jungkook: of course, go and sleep, i can see your light is still on

jungkook: don’t miss me too much 😏

You look through the peephole, seeing Jungkook’s tall frame leaning against your door, his hair taking up most of the view from the hole.

you: okay goodnight, stop standing outside my door and go home before it’s too late

You hear Jungkook laugh from outside, before his footsteps begin to get softer as he walks away.

“___, I saw Jungkook leave your apartment last night, what were you doing?” The familiar voice rings from behind you as your arm is being held back.

“Junghyeon, leave me alone, it’s none of your business anymore,” You shake your arm out of his grasp, walking faster towards the entrance of the school, wanting to quickly head home before anything happens

Your ex boyfriend ignores your words, continuing to grab your arm and pull you back from walking further.

You wince from how hard he had tugged your arm, struggling as you pull against his grasp.

“Let go of me,” You grit through your teeth, desperately trying to escape.

“Try and escape, you won’t, you’re too fucking weak and your pretty little boy won’t come here and save you,” He seethes, breath blowing onto your face as you scrunch your face in disgust.

“I’m not telling you shit, you don’t need to dig into my business Junghyeon,” You spit at him, but he only tightens his grip on your arm, making you whimper in pain.

“No! You tell me what the fuck you were doing with him so late at night!” He bangs the locker near you, making you flinch at the loud noise.

“What the fuck are you doing, get your hands off of her,” There’s a very angry voice that rings through the air, as Junghyeon’s grasp on your arm gets released.

It’s Jungkook.

“Fuck off, don’t fucking touch her like that,” Jungkook growls at the man, holding his fist in the air as he grabs Junghyeon’s shirt.

“Who are you to tell me that? YOU should be the one fucking off, she’s probably fucking around with other guys like the slut she is-“

BAAM.

Jungkook punches him in the face, sending Junghyeon flying to the ground, as students start to gather in the hallways, gasping and whispering amongst themselves.

You quickly take Jungkook by the arm, attempting to drag him away from Junghyeon who’s clutching his jaw, wincing in pain on the floor.

“Jungkook, leave him, it’s okay already,” You’re slowly pulling him away as students gather around Junghyeon on the floor.

Jungkook’s panting heavily, you don’t recognise the look in his eyes as he lets himself get dragged away by you, but his eyes don’t leave Junghyeon who’s muttering something as he locks eyes with Jungkook.

“Wait baby, I need to teach that fucker a lesson,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, he reaches back to your arm to gently pull it away, but with the bruise forming on your arm from earlier, you whimper when he touches the hurt area.

Jungkook whips around with concern the moment he hears you wince, flinching from his touch as you hold onto your arm,

“I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry, let me see it,” He gently takes your arm, as you let him inspect the bruise, it was turning purple already, as he frowns.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up some more, he deserves it, how dare he touch my girlfriend like that,” Jungkook rambles on as he looks back at Junghyeon, who’s getting up from the floor and walking away.

“Kook, no more punching people, you’re going to get into trouble with the discipline mistress already,” You sigh, letting him inspect your bruise closer as he rubs his thumb lightly over it, eyes widening in concern as you wince even with the slightest touch.

Jungkook complies with your words, he would do anything to prove to you he truly did love you, no matter how bad he wanted to punch Junghyeon again.

That day, you wait for Jungkook who’s currently in detention for acting out. He has tried to reason with the discipline mistress but she had given him no leeway. Instead, you decided to wait in the library until your boyfriend was done with his detention, focusing on doing your work as you wait.

On the other hand, Jungkook was making love letters throughout his detention, the discipline mistress sighing every time she checked up on him and Junghyeon who were sitting at opposite ends in the class.

“Jungkook-ah, you had the right intention for wanting to stand up for ___, but you should know violence is never the answer, no matter how much you like the person,”

He frowns at the discipline mistress’ words, “I’m sorry Ma’am, I promise I won’t punch anyone, but I don’t just like her, I love her,” He sighs, writing more words into the pink paper he had folded into hearts.

She can only sigh at the love sick Jungkook, Junghyeon glaring right at him from the other end of the class.

“Oh! You gave me a shock!” You gasp quietly as Jungkook slides into the chair next to you, you check your phone, noticing it had already been 6pm long ago, meaning Jungkook was done with his detention for quite a long time.

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” Jungkook gestures to your phone, as you notice the notifications from him:

jungkook: im done with my detention

jungkook: i learnt my lesson i promise 🙃 which part of the library are you at?

“Oh sorry Koo, I was so focused on my work I didn’t notice,” You sweep a strand of hair covering his eyes.

“I searched high and low for you, I cleared out two whole floors of the library before I found you here,” He groans, sulking into the seat.

You laugh quietly, finding it endearing.

Jungkook was really making his way to your heart.

“Oh! I have this for you I made while waiting,” He reaches into his jacket pocket and fishes out the pink paper folded into a heart shape, placing it into your hands.

“Oh? You did this in detention?” You smile at him, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

He was being fucking cute, writing you a love letter while being in detention, you wanted to kiss him right there and then.

“Yeah, missed you and thought about you so much, now quickly open it,” He gestures for you to unfold the paper, as you comply

You read the small handwriting squished together to fit into the small piece of paper:

____, I’m writing this in detention as I was told to reflect on my actions so I thought I should write this to you to show you how much I love you ❤️ When you began to act cold towards me that day, my heart shattered into a million pieces, I wanted to just wrap you up and protect you from whoever was hurting you. I didn’t know that you had thought it was me who didn’t like you more than a friend, it hurt me to see you cry and push me away like that. I just love you so fucking much, I want you to believe my words, because you mean the world to me, no matter how we would have ended up if I had confessed to you earlier, or if you had confessed to me first, or if we never got jealous of each other, I would love you nevertheless.

You’re giggling to yourself as you finish reading the letter, folding it back and keeping it in your pocket.

“Yah! Don’t laugh at my love confession,” Jungkook pouts dramatically, whining softly as he sulks into the chair next to you

“I’m laughing because I find it cute baby, do you want your kiss or not?” You giggle as he lights up, sitting up quickly and kissing you.

You happily kiss him back, you put your arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss. Jungkook is on cloud nine.

Not before you both get interrupted by another student who’s sitting opposite you, clearing his throat.

You quickly pack up your stuff and you and Jungkook head out of the library, not wanting to get caught again.

The next day, you’re in the canteen sitting with your friends, as you make eye contact with Jungkook, who now proudly proclaims as your boyfriend. He sends you a quick smile before turning back to Mingyu who’s talking.

You look down as your phone lits up,

boyfriend ❤️: like my new contact name?

You gasp, whipping your head up at Jungkook who’s smiling at you mischeviously, you quickly reply back:

you: yah! when did you do that!!!!

you: its cute though, miss you already

You shut off your phone before your friends catch you.

The phone next to you lits up again,

boyfriend ❤️: come here and kiss me then

You roll your eyes at him, going back to your conversation with your friends.

The next thing you know, Yeji stops talking as she nods behind you, telling you to turn around.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook’s smiling down at you as he leans down to peck your lips.

The whole table gasps, making the rest of the canteen turn their heads to see what was going on

“Kook!” You slap his chest, burying your face into your hands in embarrassment.

“He was looking, had to show him who’s the boss,” Jungkook whispers into your ear as he smirks at you, you tsk at his expression

He laughs at you, ruffling your hair before running back to his table.

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me?” Yeji shakes your hand in hers, your friends obviously taken aback by the current situation.

“It happened recently, I swear I was going to tell you,” You groan, trying to keep their reactions down so that people will stop staring your way.

“Baby, you want this?” Jungkook gestures towards the huge stuffed toy puppy hanging from the booth

“Are you sure you can get that? It’s pretty hard y’know,” You laugh, nudging your boyfriend playfully in the chest.

“Hey! I’m an expert at carnival games okay? Let me show you,” He passes the booth owner money, receiving three balls to throw into the moving buckets.

You watch as Jungkook perfectly gets all three balls into the buckets, as you jump excitedly next to him,

“OHMYGOSH!!!!” You’re squealing as you shake your boyfriend, who’s amused by your reaction, letting himself get shaken by you.

“Told you I could do it,” Jungkook proudly hands you the giant stuffed puppy, as you kiss him on the cheek as a thank you gesture.

“Urgh, maybe I shouldn’t have won that,” Jungkook groans, sulking into the sofa in your bedroom

“Why? It’s so cute and soft, it looks like you baby,” You giggle, hugging the huge stuffed toy tighter

“Firstly, that puppy doesn’t look like me, secondly, it’s quite literally stealing you away from me,” You watch as he whines, sinking further into the sofa.

“Okay, okay fine, now I’ll pay attention to my sulky puppy,” You tease him, walking over to the sofa and cupping his face into your hands.

Jungkook stares up at you, he’s admiring your pretty face, he could stare at you all day.

“Paw,”

“Huh?”

“Give me paw, puppy,” You giggle as you have your hand out expectantly, waiting for him to obey your command.

“Yah! What has the soft toy done to you!” He tackles you, tickling your sides as you burst out into laughter, pleading with him to stop.

Jungkook pays no heed to your pleas, he continues to manhandle you so that you’re now laying on the sofa, and he’s caging you above, preventing you from escaping his attacks.

It takes him a lot of pleading from you to stop, by the time he does stop the both of you are laughing, Jungkook plopping on top of you as you bask in happiness.

You’d love him nevertheless.

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l0vergirlwrites · 11 months

Text

make up ; jj maybank

warnings: angst & post-reassurance

you didn’t mean to cause a fight with him, but emotions were bottled up & both of you couldn’t help but let things get out of control. you both yelled, cursed, made accusations & most of all—you both made the other cry a little.

this was the first time you’ve guys have had a big fight before, so neither of you knew exactly how to patch it up. jj had slipped on a sweater before grabbing the keys to his dirt bike, telling you not to wait up for him before slamming the front door shut. you stayed on the couch with your head in your hands, just crying & letting your emotions out before he returned.

you cleaned the dirty plates in the kitchen as the sun began to set, trying to distract yourself as the minutes ticked on.

jj rode all the way to the boneyard & sat in the sand with a scowl on his face, picking up some sand before letting it cascade through his fingers as the wind blew against him.

minutes turned to hours, & it was almost ten o’clock. you both had cooled down by now, so jj decided to ride back home—to you—& attempt to patch things up. you had already showered & washed your hair, coming back to your spot on the couch after changing your tear soaked sweater for a clean pair of pyjamas.

when jj returned, he saw that you left the outside light on for him, making him feel a small ‘pang’ in his chest as he pulled out his keys & unlocked the front door. he took off his shoes, put his keys back in the bowl near the door, turned off the outside light, & slowly made his way into the living room.

“hi” you croaked when you saw him come into view, the light from the living room lamp gave you just enough warm light to see him.

jj took in your form, seeing that your eyes still had a pink shade to them. he felt guilty, & so did you. so you made the first move.

“hey” he scratched the side of his neck, leaning against the wall across from you, unsure of where to move now.

“i know you told me not to wait up… but i thought i’d uh, sleep on the couch so you could have the bed…” your offer was kind, wanting to stay out of his way until you’d be allowed back in, but jj only wanted you to come to bed with him.

he shook his head with sympathy in eyes as he slowly made his way over to you. “n-no, you don’t have to sleep on the couch baby… i thought we could both go to bed… together” your lips formed an “o” shape as you gazed up at him.

“are you not mad anymore?” you asked him, voice a bit quieter than before.

“no,” he shook his head again, kneeling down to be at better eye level with you. “i’m not mad. are you still mad?”

with your eyes glossing over & head shaking “no, not anymore”. you held out your hand from him to take, feeling a bit of relief washing over you once you felt his touch.

“i’m so sorry jay… i shouldn’t have said all those mean things because i was bottling stuff up… i feel so bad—“ you apologized, guilt eating away at your chest as you looked at him—your best friend & boyfriend.

once you were about to start crying again, jj pursed his lips & gently shushed you, sitting next to you & pulling you into his side so he could wrap an arm around you. “i know, i know. i forgive you baby, we’re okay” he assured you, kissing your head a few times as you sniffled into his shoulder.

“i said some pretty mean things too—we both fucked up… i shouldn’t have left though, i should’ve stayed & worked it out with you—“ you shook your head against him, tutting a little, as you looked at him & brushed the few tear stains off your cheeks.

“it’s okay, you—we both needed to cool off before we tried to fix it” you told him, & he later agreed.

taking a deep breath, jj brushed a few strands of hair from your face, not able to hide the sad smile that was forming on his face. “you gotta tell me things instead of bottling them up, it’s not healthy y/n/n” he reminded & you agreed, knowing he was right.

“i’ll work on it, i promise. it just gets so hard when everything is so hectic & then it all explodes &…,” you started to frown, “then i hurt everyone around me…” a sigh escaped your lips again as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. “i’ll be better, i’m sorry”.

pulling your face closer to his, jj kissed your forehead a couple of times, a symbol of his love for you.

“i don’t like fighting with you. i hate it” you mumbled when his forehead touched yours, noses less than an inch away from another.

“i hate it too. i don’t like making you cry” he mumbled back.

“me too” you opened your eyes only too see him already looking back at you.

“we’ll work on this, okay?” he said as he squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of yours.

“yeah, we’ll work on it. promise” you squeezed back, smiling a little when you felt his hair tickle your forehead.

“come here,” you held his face, pulling jj closer until you were able to press a kiss to his lips, wanting to be as close to him as you could.

your lips moved slow, not in the rush for anything, as you tried to express how sorry you were to him. “i love you, i’m sorry” you whispered against him, your thumbs rubbing along his skin gently as you held him.

he only leaned in again to kiss you, his hands resting on your tucked knee & thigh. “i love you too, & i’m also sorry”.

after a few more kisses, jj decided it was time for bed. “will you sleep in bed with me tonight?” he asked you, giving you an out if you needed it.

you only kissed the corner of his mouth before responding. “yeah, of course”.

with his hand in yours, you turned off the living room light & headed to your bedroom, getting under the sheets with jj & settling your figure beside his to get some much needed sleep, feeling okay because neither of you were going anywhere.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank #outer banks #netflix #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #obx #obx fic #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj #jj obx #jj maybank one shot #celebrities

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riaki · 4 months

Note

haii >:3 i was wondering of you could write a thing on if reader was a classmatw of gojo when they were in jujutsu tech? ur hsbullt gojo was really well written 💗

sorry if i sound rude, im not familiar with how tumblr works ;(

hey there!! thank u sm for ur ask nonnie ! hope this is good... and don’t worry!!!! ur perfectly fine my love 🤍

classmates | satoru gojo x reader cw: calls u princess, swearing

1:34PM. 5/21/06 - JUJUTSU TECH GYM - more than friends, less than lovers

"fucking hell, satoru!" you rub your head slowly, gritting your teeth as pain hammers the side of your skull; feels like a bruise is going to form, and you’re pretty sure you have basketball line marks on your face.

satoru jogs over to you, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the gym floor. there's that pesky grin on his lips again, and his eyes shine, a vibrant glow of youth. he’s not apologetic at all, you think with gritted teeth. he slows to a stop a few yards away from you, a panting, sweaty mess, yet you find yourself irritably drawn to him either way. he shoots you a quick wink, fanning himself with his shirt in a way that lets the dip of his hip expose itself to the musty air of the gym. a droplet of sweat slides down his skin, and your face burns.

"yo! pass me that ball, [name]." he waves an eager hand towards you, and you roll your eyes, tossing the basketball in his direction. it lands square on his chest with a thump, eliciting a little ‘oof’ from his lips and pressing the cotton of his shirt against his damp skin. and it sticks, defining his muscles in patches of wet cloth. the summer heat must really be getting to you, because the sound of his voice has your thoughts running far, far away from you.

you’re yanked back into reality when a little huff escapes his glossy lips, wiping his forehead and messing up his soft white hair, stray strands clinging together over his eyes. shoko made away with his sunglasses, which means you’ve got a front seat view of those gorgeous, yet equally uncanny irises. "hey, you've got a solid throw. you should give it a shot, yeah? why not join me 'n suguru for a round—"

“hell no.”

he just laughs at that, haughty and everything you should really learn to hate as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the center of the court, where suguru is waiting with an irked expression on his face.

“suit yourself, princess.” he tosses a wave in your direction of his shoulder, and you raise a hand to your chest, feeling your heart slam against your ribcage.

9:02AM. 11/06/07 - JUJUTSU TECH CLASSROOM - best friends

“so.”

gojo glances at you, as if surprised you broke the silence. you can see your own reflection in the lens of his shades, hiding his gaze from the world. sunlight filters in through the windows; it’s early, a break between classes. it shouldn’t be stuffy in the classroom with the windows open, but it still feels suffocating.

you stare at him, and he stares back from his seat atop your desk. his lips are curved down in that usual unamused look he’s always sporting, but there seems to be weight in his shoulders; a ghost tugging his muscles down, stiffening the muscles in his neck to the point where you wish you could just offer him a massage. but you’re not sure if he’d let you get close enough to ever do that.

“what?” he snaps, glaring at you as he sticks his bottom lip out. at least, you think he’s glaring— it’s been harder to tell lately, what’s on his mind. not that you were ever able to read him easily before, though. he likes to hide.

you kick the leg of the desk he’s sitting on with a foot, sighing and humming to yourself for a moment or two. you don’t see it, but gojo’s expression softens slightly and he looks back up at the ceiling again, callused fingers curling around the edge of the desk. the pale color of his skin makes the veins on his hands more prominent; a subtle, muted blue that makes you want to run a hand over his arm.

the two of you had stopped by a store that morning. you’d bought a cup of coffee and two onigiri for yourselves, but it seems like he’s already finished his. you know right now is the prime time for his appetite to flare up— with adolescence and all, but he doesn’t seem to be eating much. or at least, not from what you can tell.

“here, have this.”

gojo glances down at you once more, letting himself observe you with his full vision; not one that’s always hidden behind a layer of thick black stained glass, meant to absorb the pain and the headaches for him. you, who’s so gentle and soft with him— surely you wouldn’t cause him any sort of aching, if not for the one inside the cavity of his chest. it takes him a moment to realize you’re holding out something to him— your onigiri, half eaten. there’s a shriveled little plum showing, burrowed between the layers of sticky rice and dry seaweed wrappings.

he’s uncharacteristically silent as he grabs it from you, the crinkle of the plastic wrapping the only noise in the world as he stares at it for a moment before starting to eat. his cheek puffs when he starts chewing; the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat when he swallows makes it hard for you to stifle a smile. even with the weight of all he’s carrying, gojo still manages to look like a child every now and then. you can’t help but think he’s grown up too fast.

you let a moment of silence pass, stealing a long glance at him as he busies himself with his half of the rice ball, wolfing it down.

“i know i cant offer much to you, satoru…” you started quietly; tenderly, if he listened closely. the way you say his name makes his throat constrict in a way he’s not familiar with.

“…but if you ever need something— anything— i’ll be here. plus, i never finish my onigiri anyway. so you can have the half i don’t eat,” you laughed, closing your eyes and listening to the morning breeze outside. gojo takes the opportunity to observe you; the soft curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes curl, the soft fade of your full lips at the edges and the hair that frames your face.

you can feel his eyes on you, but you let him get away with it. it feels like an infinite eternity goes by before his voice finally cuts through the thick air.

“…have you been resting? the bags under your eyes are darker than usual.” he pokes at you, shifting again, but you seem to revel in the comfortable familiarity of his banter; something that makes his heart ache in a way only you elicit from him. the way you pull at his heart strings is so natural and easy that it’s unnatural to ignore.

“probably more than you have,” you teased. gojo sniffles, and you chalk it up to the seasonal illnesses.

2:46AM. 12/07/08 - JUJUTSU TECH DORMS - ?

it’s half past two in the morning when you get gojo’s text. or, more accurately, the one you forced him to send when he returned from his mission.

m done. u can come pver

he looks a little too much like a zombie when you knock on the door of his dorm and it swings open for you, revealing him in all his tired glory. the bags under his eyes are redder and darker than usual, and his hair is tussled and messy. it’s obvious he hasn’t bothered to clean himself up. his white tee is stained with something damp; his tears, but you don’t dwell on it. there’s a bandaid on the bottom of his jaw; you can see a hint of angry red scrapes peeking out from beneath the beige material.

“you look like shit.”

“are you gonna come in or not?”

you oblige and step inside, the plastic bag in your hand rustling with each movement. it’s a bit loud, and you just pray you don’t get caught sneaking into gojo’s room this late at night. at least you know which boards creak.

he closes the door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you. you look the same as you always do, but the way your hair falls over your face makes him want to brush it back, like some unresolved impulse. he doesn’t do anything about it; hanging around you for so long has taught him how to keep himself in control. for as long as he can manage, anyway.

he speaks up first, voice hoarse and low with lack of use. “what’s in the bag?” he makes it sound like it’s something illegal. and at this point, you’re not sure if the feeling that pushes you to do things for him should be considered so, because sometimes it feels like it.

“a birthday cake. or— it’s a fruit tart i stayed up to make.” you said, placing the bag on his cluttered desk, pushing away photo frames and bloody tissues and pencils shaven down to eraser stubs to make room for the box. satoru meanders over to you, peering over your shoulder with one hand on the desk to support himself. you can feel his breath on your neck, hot even in the darkness. it makes your hands clammy.

moonlight spills in from the windows next to his bed, but it’s not enough, so you turn on the lamp and open the box. the tart’s been through quite a bit— jostled in transport, marred in the making— but the sweet smell of fruit and cream makes his mouth water nonetheless.

“wow, that’s nice of you. weirdly so, actually. are you really [name]?” you can hear the grin in satoru’s voice, and you know he can hear the exasperation in your voice when you reply, using the plastic utensils you packed to cut a slice for him. the red strawberry juice stains the cream as your knife slices through, a rivulet of vermillion.

“shut up and be grateful. you get the slice with kiwi and the rotten blueberries just for that,” you huff, indignantly in a way that reminds satoru of a rather petulant housecat. he takes the tart from you, cold fingers ghosting over yours as the golden brown crust crumbles in his palm.

ignoring the sour berries, the taste is like a bite of heaven, but not the distant kind that’s hidden behind a veil of clouds. the kind that’s only found within the quaint, humble warmth of a homely kitchen, made with love by one’s own hand. your hand. the knowledge tastes all the sweeter on his tongue.

he’s snapped from his dazed pastry-savoring stupor when you speak up again, enjoying a slice of your own.

“happy birthday, gojo.” he stiffens, but he’s not quite sure why. if you notice his change in demeanor, you don’t say anything about it.

“congrats to another year,” you smiled, lifting up your half-eaten tart, not unlike the onigiri you’d shared with him a year ago. except this time he reciprocates, and you share a toast of berries and cream in the darkness of his dorm, at 3am on a quiet sunday.

the dorms are silent. the only sound is the wind outside, throwing leaves and dust at the window panes as it sings a tune in ode to winter. come tomorrow, it’ll likely be silenced by a coating of thick, white snow; unmoving, burying the secrets of the earth beneath the glittering icicles. not unlike the boy next to you, with pretty blue eyes that are constantly focused yet distant all the same, hair the color of clouds and face worn with age unbefitting of a child.

come tomorrow, the snow will fall and snuff out the life of the flowers and plants. but in this tranquil bubble of time, satoru is as free as a dove outside of its silver cage.

he reaches over, pulling you in by the sleeve of your night shirt and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. it happens in the blink of an eye; a moment of impulse, where for once, he allows himself to breathe; to let down the walls he literally holds up around him, to let his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes and breathe in your scent, taste the heat on your skin and the buttery sweet crumbs dotting the curve of your lips; the dips in the corners of your mouth that make you always look so pretty when you smile.

when he pulls away, he refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at the only remaining clue of the tart in his palm— a single, rotten blueberry, squishy and soft. the silence rings in his ear as his face becomes hot.

“what was that for?” you ask quietly, staring angrily— in embarrassment, into nothing.

“there were crumbs on your mouth,” he explains.

nothing more, nothing less.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

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torntoblivion · 11 months

Text

clothed s3x with xiao

cws: nsfw (mdni), afab!gn!reader, dry humping, virgin!xiao, cowgirl position,

in his centuries of lifetime, xiao had never experienced romantic love, let alone being intimate with someone. he's still fairly new to relationships, he really wants to try everything with you, he really does but sometimes he gets overwhelmed by being touched so intimately.

you know that none of it is about you and understand him so you allow xiao to control the pace, establishing a safeword first and foremost, letting him lead the whole thing. of course, xiao is incredibly mindful of your boundaries, he always asks for your consent for almost everything.

however xiao's desperate to get his hands on you, he desires you so much and to make you feel good but he's still not ready to be one with you.

you found a solution for that though.

"f-feels good!"

xiao's high pitched whines filled the room, lucky for you two, you have no neighbours so xiao can freely let out those cute sounds. you continue to grind your hips on the bulge formed in his underwear, feeling his cock twitch under the layer of his damp boxers.

he tosses his head back to the pillows when you grind down particularly hard, his hands tightly gripping the sheets below him. you slowly guide his hands to your waist, giving him full control to make him more comfortable.

xiao grips your waist, tightly but still somehow gently, moving you up and down on his erection. he can feel the folds of your drenched cunt through the thin material of your underwear, feel you clenching around nothing, just the thought of you bouncing on his cock like this without clothes on is enough to have his eyes rolling back to his head.

you lean down, making sure to press your chest to his, to cup his burning cheeks to make him look at you. xiao never slows down as you kiss his nose and whisper

"i want you to look at me when you cum, can you do that for me?"

the way you said those sinful words in such a soft voice is incredibly erotic. xiao nods quickly and finally meets your loving gaze, nobody had evet looked at him like you do. looked at him with such happiness, lust and love.

it takes so much effort for xiao to keep looking at you, actively making an effort to prevent closing his eyes in pleasure or look away from embarassment. you continue riding his clothed cock with his aid, your back arches when his tip nudges your enlarged clit as you let out a quite loud moan.

"r-right there, xiao! 'm so close!"

your sweet voice has his blood rushing to his cock, feeling a pang in his groin. suddenly xiao's grip on your waist tighten, now strong enough to leave bruises which he'll most likely feel guilty over, he completely takes control of your moves as he angles his hips a little to directly bump his tip to your clit.

it takes a few more grinds for xiao to finally reach his peak, moaning your name as he presses you hard on his twitching length, a wet patch forming on the fabric.

the hard press of his tip to your clit triggers your own orgasm, gushing into your underwear and mixing your essence with xiao's. xiao allows you to use his spent body to ride out your high, quietly whining due to the overstimulation on his sensitive cock.

you're quick to tend to xiao, pressing soft kisses all over his face as you gently carress his hair, helping him calm down. he pulls you on top of him, arms wrapped around you as you continue combing his silky locks with your fingers.

you can change later, now all he wants is to hold you like this in silence.

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ilovehimyourhonour · 11 months

Text

wouldn’t dream of it

📂 bf! jung wooyoung x reader . you weren’t clear and wooyoung thought you were breaking up with him . slight angst , a bit of fluff , comfort .

a/n writing random pieces as my inbox/drafts sits with request . (edit — can’t believe this got as much love as it did lol) .

navigation

Vision turning hazy, Wooyoung falters in his steps—his eyes prick with tears as he watches you turn away from him, something you’ve never done. But has there ever been an argument this severe? Have the two of you ever yelled at each other with this much anger and heat? The rare times you did argue the atmosphere was still comforting, the two of you would sit down and talk things over. Wooyoung would hesitantly reach for your hands, you would smile softly and intertwine your fingers with his—he’d then lean forward, his lips brushing your forehead as he mumbles a “Im sorry.” Everything from there would work itself out, but as Wooyoung swayed where he stood, the orange lantern hanging above his head casting a dim light over him and the surrounding area, he knew the two of you weren’t going to solve this in a matter of minutes.

“Are you even listening to me?” He blinks back another rush of tears, they build within his throat. “Of course you’re not,” you chuckle. “Stupid of me to assume you would be.”

Your eyes are red, your cheeks are stained with the tears that had managed to escape—the collar of Wooyoung’s your shirt sports a few patches where your tears had fallen and seeped into the material. Wooyoung watches your hands shake as you reach up to brush the wetness from your cheeks.

“Can you say something, Wooyoung?” You’re annoyed. He parts his lips, only a strangled grunt leaves his mouth, the tangled tears, worry, and heartbreak resting in his throat blocks the words he wishes he could say. You hum softly, turning away from him—nearing the front door of your apartment. “I think we need a break, Woo.”

Panic surges through Wooyoung, bringing each aspect of himself to a crumbling point. Never has he ever had the desire to hear those words leave your mouth, never once had he ever desired to say them himself—no matter the circumstance he always wanted to get through it with you. He stumbles forward, leaving the kitchen and its orange glow behind as he pushes himself to the entrance—desperate to catch you before you left him.

Your backs facing him as he reaches you, you’re mid swinging your jacket over your shoulder when his two arms wrap around your knees—leaving you to frown and crane your neck. Your boyfriend has his face pressed into the back of your thighs, muffled sobs soaking into the materiel of your sweatpants, his shoulders violently shake with his cry. “I. Love. You,” his words are broken between hiccups.

“I love you, Wooyoung.” Your still facing the door, his tight grip on your legs preventing you from turning to face his kneeling figure. “Let me go,” you softly mutter as you blindly reach behind you—fingers brushing through his hair gently. His arms circle your legs tighter, his head shaking as he lets a few more hiccups shake his figure. You sigh and reach for his arms, pulling yourself from his hold—his heart splits in half and another surge of tears trail down his cheeks, dripping from his jaw and chin.

“No,” he chokes out. “Please don’t leave me,” his voice is hoarse and shaky. “One more chance, one more chance. Please.”

You’re now facing him, frowning as you drop to your knees—mirroring his position. “I just need one more chance,” his words are now barely above a whisper. You practically coo at his sad and desperate expression, your bottom lip can’t help but quiver as you reach out and brush the bangs from his eyes.

“I will never leave you, Wooyoung.”

“You said we needed a break.”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “I didn’t mean we should break up, darling. I meant we need a break from this,” he shifts so he sits crossed legged on the floor, you follow immediately. You watch his fingers twitch in his lap, as they always did—so you reach forward, taking his hand in yours. “We need time to calm down and then talk things over.”

“I am calm,” you chuckle softly—Wooyoung’s fingers tighten around yours at the familiar sound. “I don’t want to be alone.”

The heartbroken look in his eyes keeps you at his side, the two of you sitting in the entrance for hours. Nothing but soft touches, gentle kisses, and I love you’s being exchanged between the two of you. But somewhere between confessing your love for each other and brushing the hairs from one another’s faces, apologizes are exchanged. Woo promises he’ll be a better boyfriend, to which you expressed how you already believed him to be the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

“Don’t ever break up with me,” Wooyoung mumbles into your shoulder as he holds you in his lap.

You chuckle softly as you bring your arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

#📂 — ilovehimyourhonour #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung imagine #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop boys

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lesbianrobin · 8 months

Text

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

#lesbianrobin.fic #stranger things fic #lucas sinclair #lumax #steddie #st fic #em talks #stranger things #btw this was written prior to volume 2!! pls keep that in mind #i've had people on ao3 be like uh but lucas HAS been hurt like that 🤨 and it's like i know but that had not happened yet. sorry.

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