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videolaa · 2 days

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Hoodie

Idol!Chanbin x Idol!Femreader

Changbin didn't understand why his feet brought him to the venue with some of his friends. He didn't understand why no one stopped him from buying a ticket to see you live. Was it because they were getting tired of seeing you through his phone screen, jolting when some fans screamed louder than others in videos? Could it be that they thought it was best for him to see you one last time, even if you wouldn't have one more conversation? Whatever the reason here, he was standing in the sea of people who came for you.

"Are you doing okay?" Han asked, still slightly nervous, as if coming wasn't the smartest option. Changbin nodded his head, "Yeah. Thanks for coming with me, by the way." Han and Minho stood next to him, "It's no problem," Minho mumbled before focusing back towards the stage.

Changbin was lying. He wasn't fine. Changbin missed you. Even after all these months that went by, his love for you hadn't changed. But he was better at hiding them than you. Dispatch was quick on pointing out your lack of appearance at an award show. Your new photos for your comeback seemed to be a mix of sadness with a glint of happiness. He even caught you getting a teary-eyed in a teaser picture.

While in reality, at night after you'd finished getting ready for bed, having trouble sleeping from a long day of overthinking or on certain nights when the anxiety mixed tears would be too much, you'd open your closet and pull your ex-boyfriend's hoodie. Off the hanger and over your head.

You found it after you cleared Changbin's clothes from your room, and you didn't have the heart to text him you found it. If he couldn't be with you anymore, to have his hugs, his love and comfort, having this would be good enough for you to sleep in.

Now, seeing you on a screen and in person after months of nothing, your smile was almost forced with little shine in your eyes. Yet you still performed beautifully, Minho was shocked at how you never missed a beat, "She's putting her all..." Minho began leaning closer to Han, "I know. We'll talk later."

"Did we have fun tonight?" you shouted through your mic as you walked from one end of the stage to the other, earning well-deserved screams of joy. Changbin clapped and cheered with the rest of the fans. His friends who went with felt an unexpected ache in their hearts. Seeing him with a heart still full of love while you forced a smile, twisting, twirling, while trying to laugh away the pain.

You still loved each other.

But somewhere along your twirls, you stopped, taking a quick double take. After seeing your smile lower a bit, he pulled his face mask back up, hoping you'd assume you were just seeing things. Only you knew it was him.

Changbin, Minho, and Han; they all showed up. You'd recognize them a mile away, and for the first time in months, you felt you could finally give a genuine reaction to everyone. "Sorry about that, everyone! I saw some unexpected old friends here. Lets give them a quick cheer for coming out tonight!" You call out in the microphone before dropping it so you could join in for a moment.

Even though you chose to look in other directions at their cheers, catching glances at the three was slightly humorous. From red ears, looking down with rhythmic shoulders bouncing up and down out of laughter, and one attempting to play along with the crowd. Part of you felt bad until you turned your attention back to the audience, "Okay enough, embarrassing them...for now. Now for the last song of the night. What you've all been waiting for... here's my newest song."

The boys looked up as the lights dimmed out of curiosity, only to shoot back down as the beat started, along with a different presence from the smiling, cheering, laughing girl they've seen all night. This girl was anxious yet determined. Her sudden change kept the crowd reeling.

You'd probably think I was psychotic (if you knew)

What I still got in my closet (sad but true)

I slip it on over my shoulders

Something I'll never get over

It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Even though this was their first time hearing this. The three felt something stirring inside, a feeling that had stuck with them since they entered - yet the song hardly started. As if they were there for it's creation.

I can't keep your love

I can't keep your kiss

Gave you everything, and all I got was this

It was a small build-up, but just enough to cause your ex-boyfriend's jaw to hang open ajar. This was the truth. The truth you were so desperately trying to get out for the world to hear. The truth that tore you apart, together and alone. The truth everyone deserved to know, not the lie that was created for the internet.

And it did with just one post, one that had you forcibly packing.

I'm still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

Still rocking your...

He remembered that day crystal clear.

The weather was colder than the news called for, and it had you shivering. Changbin didn't know it back then, but pulling his hoodie off for you to wear had been caught on tape. You giggled, joking it was already warmed up just for you. If either of you had known, he wouldn't have slung an arm around your shoulders, while an arm tried to fit around his waist. Anyone who passed could tell they were looking at a couple in love. Sadly, the media and work caused a public announcement; your breakup.

You grabbed your chest almost as if you were trying to hold your heart together, still pushing forward with unexpected confidence.

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on)

The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone)

I slip it on over my shoulders

Someone I'll never get over

It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

So you did still have it. You didn't even seem sorry, it caused a small smile out of him. Changbin tapped away a forming tear. Ever since that day, he would question himself, "Did you still love him?" "Did you hate him?" would fly through his head? But hearing you say that you still love him was the answering he was hoping for. Even if in the moment you were upset with him.

Minho gritted his teeth in anger. The cat dad internally cursed profanities at any form of platform or anyone who had broken both your hearts. Han had a lump forming in his throat, seeing, and knowing both of his friends were shattered, yet still going around smiling for the world to see. He felt like he could cry.

Changbin bit the bottom of his lip, trying to keep his vision clear to see you, whose eyes were currently fighting away tears. He shook his head, wanting to scream, "I never wanted to go anywhere!". But why would you keep such a cursed shirt? What was going on while he was gone? Yet he kept listening, even if it was killing him or anyone relating to your song.

I can't keep your love

I can't keep your kiss

Gave you everything and all I got was this

You gripped harder to the microphone. Deep down, you knew this song would reach him somehow. Only it never crossed your mind he would be there to see you performing the song for the first time. A jelly like feeling was starting in your legs. "Who cares?". You thought, if they give way, it'll just make the performance look better. Videos already existed of you crying, along with your passion for falling into your performances. Figuratively and literally. No one would question anything.

I'm still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

"Binnie, sorry if this is too forward, but what are your thoughts of leaving some of your clothes here?" Your voice rang inside of his head, eyes lighting up "Yeah I'd love to." While you, on the other hand, you were hearing,"One day I want to - no, I hope I can scream it from the top of my lungs that I love you!" rang through yours. You hoped that "one day" would come. Until you got told, you couldn't because of a stupid company policy. That was it the end. Changbin didn't fight back, only a muffled "I'm sorry..." as he walked past you.

Still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

Still rocking your...

And that's when your legs gave way, yet gracefully, digging deeper at your own thoughts of packing up boxes of his things. Remembering the mindless packing of boxes, remembering a couple members would take Changbin's things away. Piling other things in bags because you'd run out of moving boxes. Unsure if he'd show up with the other members, you stacked everything outside of your apartment door.

Unintentionally, his pink hoodie laid comfortably on the back of a kitchen chair, letting it air dry from the wash. Quickly running over to see how dry it was before rushing the barely damp shirt out to the boxes only to find them gone, only a now spare key left in an envelope at on the doormat.

Without caring for a moment if fans saw who were in the stands, your head turned to Han, Minho, and Changbin's side, eyes only moving to look at him. Sadness, anger, passion, all were swirling in your eyes.

If you want it back

I'm here waiting

Come take it back

If you want it back

I'm here waiting

Come take it back

"Please, one last hello, one last goodbye. Yes, this is about you - for you - is it reaching you?" is all you silently pass along. "I don't want it, keep it!" Changbin mumbled. If it was the only way he'd see you again, he'd do it. He would take it. Only to find a way to bring it back to you again.

After all, you admitted an old hoodie that caused you to break up was something that brought you comfort now - even if it did bring you pain. If he had it now, all it would do was hurt him more than he could imagine, more than this. Simple threads were holding you both together.

I'm still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

There was his laugh again, the same contagious sound that could bring a smile to anyones face. "I love you," an echo could be heard. In desperation to ignore those sounds, you tugged out your earpiece, letting the crowd mute those memories. You let yourself drown just a little bit further into the song.

I'm still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

Even seeing you were in pain, slowly failing to bat away, tears were hurting the three.

Changbin, who was sniffling, trying to hide his own tears. All the good memories you shared, from first dates to first times with everything in between. His biggest regret wasn't fighting for your relationship. "I'm sorry" was all he could muster out as he rushed past you, wondering what was going on. "Binnie? Binnie!" Changbin heard your reaction. Only for his shoulder to be shaken by Han, "What? What's wrong?". Before Changbin could answer, Han stepped aside with Minho as a stranger was standing next to them, "I'm Miss. (Y/l) manager. I think I met a couple of you during (Y/n)'s last tour. Would you three mind coming with me?". Unconsciously thinking, the three began following after your manager. "Are you sure we can't wait until the songs over?" Minho quickly stopped. Your manager shook her head, "I'm sorry, but this is her last song of the night. It'll still be able to be heard from backstage."

"Backstage?" the three looked at her in disbelief. Changbin turned his head towards the stage. You were still entertaining the crowd while spilling your soul out to them. "Yeah. Backstage...let's go".

Still rocking your hoodie

And chewing on the strings

It makes me think about you

So I wear it when I sleep

I kept the broken zipper

And cigarette burns

Still rocking your hoodie

Baby, even though it hurts

Still rocking your hoodie

Coming back to your senses a bit, your breathing hiccuped, leftover drops covering your face melted on your hand. Your fans were shouting your name, along with a few light sticks rocking back and forth. It made you want to cry harder, a few awes could be heard.

Wobbling to your feet, you smiled waving, "Thank you, everyone! Thank you for showing so much love to my new song, Hoodie! I hope it managed to reach you in some way. Thank you for coming out tonight. Please have a safe time getting home! Goodnight!". By the time your eyes made it to their seats, they had disappeared.

Staff opened the hidden door and ushered you directly to the long hallway, leading you straight to your changing room. A feeling of regret and embarrassment rose up as you noticed the pink shirt hanging against the door to the bathroom.

"Why did he even have to be here tonight or at?" you sighed, pulling out more comfortable clothes for after a post concert shower. Maybe if you hadn't made eye contact or wrote a breakup song, you wouldn't be feeling worse. It was wrote out of anger, pain, and heartbreak.

Even though the shower was brief, it was enough to ease the tension you'd caused yourself. As you changed into something more comfortable, you reached for the worn-out sweatshirt, only to feel a hand gently land on your shoulder, making you jump. Your eyes were bewildered, too stunned to say anything as you were met with Changbin.

"I remember looking everywhere for this after we..." Changbin pulled away and scratched the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah... I'm sorry I should have found a way to get it to you," you started before getting cut off. "No, it's just like you said. You're still rockin' my hoodie" he smiled. A bit of laughter came out, "I'll take that as a compliment."

After all these passing months, seeing one another felt so strange. Neither knew where the line started and ended or how far you could step. You had a million questions you wanted to ask him, yet you could only shake your head with one, "Why are you here, Changbin?".

"I wanted to see you. We wanted to see you," Changbin explained. "Okay, that's self-explanatory, but you know what I mean," you said a little more stern. Tired. Frustrated. Heartbreaking all over again, because he was standing in front of you. Changbin looked equally tired, his eyes slightly puffy. So desperately, you wanted to hug him and be happy to see him and let him tell you what was going on. He wanted to hug you, let you cry, and scream. Anything.

But from lack of sleep on both of you, high on emotions, both of you just blanked.

"I'm sorry"

"I miss you"

The sentences came out simultaneously, causing you to feel a ping in your heart, unsure of what to say. 'Hoodie' seemed clear enough of a message. What more could you say? Now, it was your turn to listen. No matter what had to be said.

"I should have tried harder - for us - I shouldn't have walked away." Changbin's voice was genuine and full of regret. "If I could go back to that day, I would have tried something, anything, because I still love you. I miss you too! I hurt you, and I am sorry. I -"

You put your hand on his bicep, making him stop, "Don't... We both knew it was possible or couldn't hide it forever," you tried to bring some comfort, which he returned with tired eyes. As you attempted to pull your hand away, Changbin gently took your hand, "I hurt you, but I still love you... and I-"

"No, no, Binnie, don't blame yourself on this. I'm hurt, yes. I'm hurt because I can't be with you, moreover you didn't fight for our relationship. You walked away. I still love you - I wouldn't have written that song about you if I didn't - I miss you too. We just broke a company rule, and well... now we're here."

Now you weren't fighting. You were just accepting, even if it hurt. Love hurts.

"One more time?" Changbin blurted out. It felt unreal, almost as if he'd forgotten the mess that came out from social media - which put you in this current situation - never happened. You couldn't tell if Changbin understood what he was actually asking.

Suddenly, another voice sighed into the conversation, "Don't say it like that - you'll scare her away." You both turned to face two familiar faces, "Hi (Y/n)," Han said, while Minho waved from the entrance. There was heat running to your cheeks, wondering how much they heard from the conversation, yet you still managed a wave. Han and Minho closed the door silently behind them. Thankfully, you doubted they heard much.

"I thought I asked you to wait outside!" Changbin whined. Minho crossed his arms, "Remember we're on a time limit? Plus, we'd like to see (Y/n) too." You chuckled at Minho's pouty confession, "I missed you guys, too." "We loved the show -" Han's tone attempted to break the tension. "I appreciate it, but what did you mean? You're here on a time limit." You shifted, looking between the three, "Did you guys sneak in?" Your voice raised only to hushed by Minho. "No! We wouldn't do that! Your manager said she'd let us in for a bit." Han quickly confessed.

"I...I have so many questions for her that will be handled a different day. She is right, though, I do have to get ready to leave... and I have a morning interview. " You took a deep breath as you switched between the group, "I really hope you guys did enjoy the show. I would love to hear your thoughts on Hoodie and the show, but we don't have that kind of time."

"We understand. But we did want to come support you, and we always will." Minho said. You were quiet and nodded your head. This made you think of when you were debating on buying a ticket to one of their shows from the upcoming tour, but you were waiting for concert dates to be released. "I will, too" you felt a lump in your throat.

Your eyes met Changbin. His eyes had more to say, "I'll think about it, Bin. I need to think about it, and you need to think about what you said with a clear conscience. Sound good?". Changbin nodded, "My number is still the same". You nodded, "Okay. I really have to go. Theres a place right down the block if you guys want to go there for dinner. Please eat something, and get home safely!" you shooed them out so you can grab your things.

"Bye (Y/n)!"

"Have a goodnight (Y/n)..."

"Great job tonight."

"Thanks, guys! I'll see you around." You shut the door behind them, leaning against it. As your adrenaline began to settle down, your fatigue began to rise.

Tomorrow. You'll think about everything starting tomorrow.

The following week flew by. Hoodie was hit, radio stations played it, and numbers were skyrocketing on streaming platforms. This just made it harder to not think about Changbin and the conversation at your concert. You were shocked the conversation even happened, or even seeing them in the green room.

But no, it was real, and you were still processing everything. It felt as if you were in a Damned if I do, Damned if I don't situation. You ran your nails through your hair, scared to say or do anything about it, Changbin wanted an answer. He deserved one.

Even if you had been avoiding your phone and computer like the plague, worried he'd call first and ask and you not having an answer made you nervous.

"(Y/n)? Are you the (Y/n)?" a girl walked up to you a giddy tone in her voice, sparkling eyes as she stood in front of you. Despite being in the music industry, meeting fans never got old, "Yeah, that's me." Her eyes still full of joy as her smile grew bigger, "I love your new song! I'm so jealous of everyone who got to see it!". You let out a chuckle, "Thank you! And don't worry, I'll make sure it'll be on my setlist for a while." The girl scrambled to find something to write on in her bag as a certain pink bunny pig plushie decorating her bags strap fell into view. "What a cute chain you got on there," you continued small talk. "Ah! Yeah, he's my favorite from Skzoo!" so enthusiastic as she pulled out a journal with a pen, extending it out to you.

"I like to journal in my free time, and I was wondering if you could sign a page? Anyone you want!" she said as you grabbed it with a smile. As usual, you asked for her name and flipped to a random empty page. Everything was going as smoothly as possible, until she said in a different tone, "I don't know who inspired 'Hoodie', but it's reached a lot of people like you wanted. You must have really cared about them for you to write a song for them," you looked at her a smirk on your face, "I'll always care about them."

"No! I'm not doubting that or anything, but do you think heartbreak can be reversed?" she nervously asked as you finished writing out a signature and note. You furrowed your eyebrows, "How do you mean?". The girl fiddled with her book, "Like when you can't be with someone because their family doesn't approve, but you still care about them and the relationship deeply and now that person is stuck trying to get a family approval but also having their partner be in their life as well. Sorta like going back, change the past for the future? Do you think a situation like this can be reversed or something?" she explained.

"Ah, I understand," more than you know. This girl wasn't far off from your own situation. That's when it clicked, "I hope this will make sense one day, just remember; If there's a will, there's a way and everything will find it's own way of working itself out."

She nodded her head, "I like that saying. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time...and I hope you and that special person can also find a way to work itself out as well!"

Before being able to say goodbye, she was giving you advice in return, "Huh? Well, that was...unexpected."

Your entire ride back to your apartment, that multi-fan was giving you advice in return. Ironically, the shared advice between you two had your wheels turning. Maybe taking both words of wisdom, actually had done something to have you rushing up to your apartment to charge your phone while you got ready for bed. Again, it would be one of those nights where you were pulling his shirt on to calm you down a bit. Only this time, you were giving him your answer...

Dialing Changbin, you took a deep breath as you heard his voice after a couple rings, "Hello? (Y/n)?" he really was waiting...

Clearing your throat, "Did you mean it at the concert? Getting back together and everything?"

"Everything. I meant it all"

"I've been thinking about all the things that happened when we were together and when we weren't and everything you said and what I said. So I think, if you're also willing to fight for us, then I think we can try again. Is that okay?"

All rights to the song/lyrics Hoodie go towards Hey Violet. Click here to listen to Hoodie, and show some love to their other work.

Writing in this one shot, excluding lyrics, goes towards videolaa. Do not repost, steal, or post this anywhere unless you have permission.

#changbin x reader #stray kids smau #bang chan x reader #han jisung x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #i.n x reader #lee felix x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x you

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browneyedmissy · 1 year

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I know part of it is because I read a lot of YA but I clocked Sel as an LI on page 16 of Legendborn and I would like to say I am very proud of that

#legendborn spoilers #bloodmarked spoilers #look everyone could probably see it from a mile away but whatever #the love triangle feels very similar to daughter of the moon goddess to me

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messylustt · 11 months

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can i plllllleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase have a bubbly reader offering miguel a hug (as a joke bc hes grumpy) and he says no at first but later on when hes rlly upset abt whatever he puts his pride in his pocket and asks for one??? i know tht man is touchstarved a good hug might fix him

wait shut up. this is adorable :((

A HUG? — miguel o’hara + reader: everyone knows that your bubbly nature offers everyone hugs. but no one expected miguel to accept one.

marks fluff. that’s literally it. maybe a bit of angst. wc 1.5k.

pt one. pt two. pt three.

“and why are you so grumpy?” you slid across the bench, as miguel sat, minding his own business and eating. he doesn’t spare you a glance as you just rested your hands on your elbows, tilting your head with a smile.

“what is she doing?” gwen asks, from her farther seat, next to hobie, pavitr, miles, and (occasionally) peter. they are all staring at you and your bubbly nature.

“ah, let her figure out how antisocial he is.” peter shrugs, adjusting mayday’s spider beanie.

“i think she already knows.” miles says.

“that’s probably why she’s over there. to “cheer” him up.” pav adds.

“good luck with tha’” hobie lightly chuckles, resting back against pav as he swings his legs up, watching what he’d call a “show”.

“you look like you could use a friend.” you say, finally making miguel look at you. his expression was the definition of ‘indifferent’. your smile didn’t fall. “or maybe an acquaintance you can talk to?”

miguel’s expression doesn’t shift. you nod. “imma have you figured out soon…i promise.” your eyes slightly narrow in an inspection of him. then he turns back to his food.

“it’s going well.” pav sarcastically comments back at their table, making hobie scoff.

“you know…” you say, fingers lightly tapping the table. “there’s things that can help with being moody.”

“i’m not moody.”

“ah huh!” you softly cheer. “you spoke. progress.”

miguel looks exasperated as he shuts his eyes. He just wanted to enjoy his empanada.

“but you wanna know what will help?”

“i’m not…moody.” he repeats a little slower, to make sure you heard.

“yeah you are. but it’s okay. cause you wanna know what will help?”

“you clearly want to tell me.” miguel breathes out.

“mhm.” you smile. “a hug.”

miguel shifts his gaze to you, blinking a few times.

from the farther table, the spider gang is still thoroughly invested. “oh shit, he looks annoyed.” miles comments.

“what do think she said?” gwen asks, resting against the table.

“tha’ he looks like a wannabe gangster.” hobie says, now rocking his leg slightly back and forth as he watches.

“a hug would help. it helps me.” you are saying, still staring at miguel, smiling.

miguel clicks his jaw, before he’s standing, muttering to himself.

“let me know!” You call to his leaving form with a chuckle.

;;

later that night miguel is pacing his office, just back from a mission that went terribly. The anomaly got away. and miguel is beating himself up inside. how could he let that happen?

you’re walking down HQ’s hallway, looking for something you had dropped. as you scanned the floor, you hear muttering that reminded you of earlier today. miguel.

you stopped by his slightly cracked open office door. you carefully knock. miguel swings it open, sighing upon seeing you. “now’s not a good time.”

you smile. “don’t worry. i just want to ask if you’ve seen a pen.”

“a pen?” miguel’s brows furrow.

“mhm. i lost it.” you reply. “you look stressed.”

“i’m not—“ he takes a deep breath. “i'm fine. and no I haven’t seen your pen.”

“no worries.” you begin to back away. “let me know if you see it though. it’s got a weird blue design on it.”

miguel’s mind is whirring for some reason, as he finds himself calling for you to stop and turn back around. “did you mean it?” he muttered it so quietly that you almost missed it.

you’re now walking back, eyeing him. “mean what?”

miguel’s tongue pokes out against his cheek, feeling his entire body drenched with exhaust and self pity. and putting his pride away he says “a hug.”

“a hug?” your smile has widened. “i thought you weren’t moody?”

“i’m not. i just— you know what forget I asked.” miguel goes to turn away feeling stupid, but then you’re reaching forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, with a smile.

at first miguel doesn’t know where to place his hands, but you stay put, just resting your body against his, as your cheek slightly squishes up against his shoulder. then miguel slowly—very slowly—wraps his arms around your midriff, and hugs you back.

miguel doesn’t what to admit that his body has instantly relaxed upon feeling yours against his. your hand had begun to softly soothe the top of his back. just drawing in slow circles, that makes his muscles stop their tensing.

and that hug wasn’t the last time it happened.

now miguel would secretly search for you. big on the ‘secret’ part though, because he can’t have anyone else knowing he likes to hug you. no that would cause too many implications and destroy his well thought out ‘in control’ demeanour.

so when he’d find you walking alone—something he noticed you did a lot. and after he’d make sure that you were both in a desolate enough place, he’d softly grab your arm, pulling you somewhere even more desolate before he’s wrapping his arms around you in a much needed hug.

you didn’t mind. hugs had always been your love language with family and friends alike. though you were surprised by how often miguel would now seek you out, just so you could rest your head on his shoulder and draw patterns on his back.

he claimed it was just for relaxation and that you shouldn’t have offered him a hug if you would’ve asked so many questions. so you let him, his own hand having gradually drawn its own patterns on your waist.

he liked hearing and feeling your breathing. your breath by his ear sent almost cleansing shivers through him. and the feel of the rise and fall of your chest against his own made his usually racing heartbeat calm down to match with yours.

he liked the calmness your body gave him. and deep down he knew he now craved it.

;;

you were all in a different universe. gwen, miles, pavitr, hobie, peter, mayday, miguel and you. jess had to take care of another mission so miguel very clearly claimed how he’s stuck with you all, his scowl very present.

it was midway through trying to catch this anomaly when miguel’s gaze gets caught up in a man and his child. and as you stopped, noticing his focused gaze first, you identified the man and child as miguel and his daughter.

you didn’t know much about miguel’s daughter. just that in his universe she had died. and now as miguel watches a variant of himself with a variant of his daughter he can feel his body tensing.

he’s never had the misfortune of seeing variants of his family before. and now really wasn’t the time to dwell and sink deeper into his mind but he just can’t help it.

“is he okay?” whispered miles to peter.

peter shakes his head. “but there’s nothing we can do about it. no one can take him out of episodes like this.”

because everyone could see that inside miguel was fuming, so close to exploding that everyone had almost taken a step back.

you stared at miguel, watching as his chest heaved with a racing heart.

you remember one time he had muttered to you, head in your neck. you weren’t sure if you were actually meant to hear it or not. but he had said how your breathing slowed his breathing. or something along those lines. because after he had said that he had drawn you in tighter, keeping his large hands around your body.

so now you edge closer. and this could be a terrible idea, you realise that. your friends seem to as well.

gwen hisses your name quietly, watching as you edged closer to the ‘beast’ or how everyone else was treating him like.

you all needed miguel to focus to capture this especially dangerous anomaly. you couldn’t have him trapped in his mind teetering on the edge.

so you continued to walk forward, and as everyone stared in shock, you carefully wrapped your hands around his neck in a hug. you did so very lightly, to give him any room for rejection. you were actually waiting for the rejection.

but then, to everyone’s shock, miguel wraps his arms around your waist, just like every other time. and he’s found you fit against him so nicely, it felt so comfortable. your heartbeat was against his now, and the slower tempo made miguel sink into your neck, his arms now engulfing you.

shocked now isn’t a big enough word. because you were hugging miguel. and it wasn’t the ‘you’ part everyone was surprised by. it was the ‘miguel’ part. he was clearly eager to hug you back, and they all watched as miguel practically became putty in your hold.

yes. miguel craved your hugs now. and there was nothing you could do to stop him from bringing you in and keeping you close. you were now his comfort and he a wasn’t going to let that go so easily.

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avtrbee · 7 months

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safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jjk #parental megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro

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theemporium · 10 months

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[4k] you made a deal with your boyfriend to do whatever he wanted to celebrate his podium and you were going to do exactly that, even if the rest of the world was determined to get in the way. (smut)

part one

Much to his dismay, he couldn’t get you alone after he had finished his round in the media pen.

Lando stumbled into his driver’s room, buzzing and eager to get his hands on you, only to have a team member knock on his door and inform him that Zak wanted to take a massive group photo outside of the garage.

You shot him a sympathetic look before he left the room.

Then, when he tried to return, he was being pulled up by different team members and colleagues who wanted to congratulate him on the podium at his home race.

And just when Lando thought he was in the clear, he was being pulled into conversation by none other than Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo—two boys he usually would’ve been happy to see—and somehow found himself roped into going out and celebrating the night.

It didn’t take a genius to work out Lando was getting angsty.

He had been all but pawing at you before you even left the hotel room, his hands on your waist and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck as you tried to add the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom mirror.

“We could just stay in,” he murmured between soft, open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck. “Say fuck it and stay here.”

You raised your brows. “What are you gonna tell Max and Daniel?”

“Sorry guys, I would rather fuck my pretty girlfriend all night than get piss drunk!” Lando answered with a cheeky grin on his face, lifting his head enough to catch your gaze in the mirror.

Your cheeks burned. “Asshole.”

“We made a deal,” he mumbled, and was all but pouting as he flashed his puppy dog eyes. “You are cutting back on your end of the deal.”

“I’m not,” you said and turned in his arms so you were now facing him. “The night is young, who knows what will happen?”

What could happen was that Lando was about two minutes away from blowing a load in his trousers in public.

You had shooed him out of the bathroom so you could slip on your dress and heels just before the taxi with the other boys arrived. When you stepped out, clad in heels that made your legs look miles long and a dress that barely covered anything, Lando was fighting for his life to find a way to convince you to stay in the hotel room.

But his phone rang and the excited voice of Daniel came through the speaker as he announced they were outside and Lando didn’t even get a chance before you were grabbing his hand and dragging him out the room.

He had been on edge the whole ride to the club, his thigh pressed against yours and the sweet scent of your vanilla perfume driving him mad. He told himself he needed to reel it in, that he just got a podium at his home race, that he deserved to be carefree and celebrate with his friends like everyone else was doing.

But two sips into the beer in his hand and Lando wanted to be anywhere but the club at that moment. He watched as you made your way towards the bar, leaning over the counter and sticking out that pretty ass of yours as you ordered some fruity cocktail that would probably have him scrunching his nose.

He watched the way the hem of your dress clung to your upper thighs, the way your lips wrapped around your straw and the way your eyes fell shut as you danced to the beat of whatever song blasting through the speakers. He watched as you smiled and laughed with all of your shared friends, as you threw your arms over Max’s shoulder and laughed at whatever the dutchman had said.

Lando never considered himself a jealous man and he knew there was nothing more to your interactions than platonic nature, but the fact your attention was everyone but him was starting to get to him.

He was promised to have you all to himself tonight. He was promised free reign and a night of just the two of you, tangled between the hotel room sheets until the sun rose and you would have to rush to the airport for a flight back to Monaco.

He was supposed to be the only one listening to your laughs or watching you smile.

He was supposed to be the only one you cared about too.

With his mind made up and his body itching to have you in his vicinity again, he slammed his half-drunk beer down and ignored the joking comment Daniel said to him before he began pushing through a throng of dancing partygoers until he got to you.

“We gotta go,” Lando said as his arm wound around your waist and pulled you into his front, though his eyes remained on his friend. “We have an early flight in the morning.

Max scoffed. “Boo! You’re no fun!”

“Maybe next time,” Lando smiled, and to anyone else, it may have seemed genuine. But you could see it was slightly strained.

Your body felt like it was stuck in a trance as you followed Lando out of the bustling club, the chill of the summer night hitting you the second you left the club. You looked at him, taking in the sheer layer of sweat on his skin that made him glow. The way his chest peaked out from the open buttons of his black silk shirt and the chain around his neck. You took in how pretty your boy truly was.

His arm around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer, his other hand working his phone as his thumb tapped away before sliding back into his pocket.

You raised your hand, your thumb smoothing over the crease between his brows. “What’s wrong?”

Lando turned his head to look at you, his gaze unamused. “You really gonna play like that?”

You flashed him an innocent smile. “Like what?”

His eyes darkened. “Don’t play these games, baby. We had a deal.”

“We did,” you nodded as you placed your hands on his chest, letting yourself slowly stroke the material of his shirt and play with the buttons as you looked up at him. “The deal still stands.”

“Does it?” he questioned, his grip on your waist tightening. “Because to me, you were all too eager to get dressed up and head out tonight.”

You just smiled, leaning up on your tiptoes so your lips were brushing against his. Your voice dropped, the bouncers and other people loitering around the outside of the club not even a second thought as you whispered against his lips.

“And if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?”

His hands on your waist tightened its grip, but this time it was almost out of protectiveness. His hands dropped to the hem of your dress, pulling it further down your legs like it would help the fact you were wearing nothing underneath.

“Baby,” Lando groaned, his hands firmly planted on your ass to stop your dress from riding up.

“I wanted to be ready for you,” you murmured with your red painted lips pouting. “I said anything you want, Lando, that included any time and any place.”

You were goading him. You knew it. He knew it. Everyone and their fucking nan knew it but it didn’t stop you from doing so.

He let out a string of curse words muttered under his breath before slamming his lips against yours. He probably should’ve cared that there were people around, that anyone could record you both or take a photo and have it plastered on tomorrow’s paper. He probably should’ve waited until you were back in your hotel room.

But he had waited long enough and he didn’t have the patience to wait a second longer.

You let out a whiny noise from the back of your throat when he pulled away, your cheeks flushed and your lipstick smudged as you tried to pull him back down to you but a squeeze of your ass warned you to stop.

“Get in the car,” he grunted, his voice raspy and a little gruff and he pretended not to notice the way your thighs clenched in response.

He stood directly behind you as you clambered into the back of the car, his eyes fixated on your ass before he followed suit. The driver gave them a polite smile and nod of his head before he turned the radio up, confirming the hotel before he pulled away from the side of the street.

You looked towards your boyfriend, still a little dazed as you reached over to wipe away the red lipstick smudged across his lips but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Lando,” you murmured quietly as his hand moved down your arm, down your side until you shivered against him.

“No bra either,” he mused, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he moved his hand down until it rested on your bare thigh. “You said anything.”

“I did,” you murmured.

His eyes found yours. “Did you really mean it?”

You nodded.

“Anything I want?” he asked one more time because you both knew if you said the word, he would stop. But you didn’t want him to stop. Not at all.

“Anything,” you breathed out.

“Stay quiet for me, baby.”

Your bottom lip was tucked between your teeth as you felt his hand slide under the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you glanced at your boyfriend, questioning if he was really going to do this. But the way his lips twitched upwards into a soft smirk told you more than enough.

You tore your eyes away from him and looked at the front of the car, where the driver was oblivious to what was happening in the back of his car. Some Taylor Swift song was playing on the radio, filling the silence but you were far too lost in the feeling of Lando’s palm cupping your bare cunt to try and remember the title of the song.

“Lando—”

“Shh,” he ducked his head to press a lingering kiss on the crown of your head. “I told you to stay quiet, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So be a good girl f’me,” he mumbled as his fingers slowly slid along your slit, a low groaning noise escaping the back of his throat when he felt how wet you were. “Fuck, this all for me?”

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to even try and talk right now.

“You’re a fucking tease, baby,” he grumbled as his finger lightly caressed your needy cunt, brushing against your clit with the lightest of touches that made you bite back your own whimpers. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing slow circles until you felt like every nerve in your body was going to explode. “Gonna give you a taste of your own medicine.”

You could have cried when he finally slid one finger inside you but it wasn’t enough, and Lando knew that. He watched in delight as you leaned back against the car seat, eager and desperate eyes glaring into the side of his face as he looked down at your lap, as though he was able to watch the way your walls squeezed around him as he added another finger.

Your body was on fire. Every inch of you felt like you had lava coursing through your veins, your stomach coiling and twisting with desire and your heart pounding in your chest as your boyfriend had his way with you in the back of the Uber. You reached out to grip his wrist, your breathing shaky as you flashed him a warning look.

“I can’t,” you whispered, shaking your head as you turned to glance at the driver, but Lando’s fingers dug into your cheeks as he turned you back to him.

“You can and you will,” he muttered, his eyes darkening in desire as he watched you fight the urge to moan his name. His voice dropped, so low that you barely heard him over the radio. “You said whatever I want, baby. This is what I want. C’mon, make a mess for me.”

Your face was pressed against his shoulder as you came, your teeth digging into his shoulder as he only chuckled in your ear. Your legs were shaking, your body was shaking and your brain could barely string a coherent sentence together, let alone even care at the fact the poor driver just had his backseat vandialised.

You were panting softly as you finally lifted your head, a whimpering noise leaving your lips as Lando pulled his fingers out of you and made a point of sliding them into his own mouth. You watched as he licked and sucked the arousal that soaked his fingers.

The little shit even had the audacity to wink at you when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips with a grin. “That’s one, baby.”

You didn’t even get a chance to process what he said before the car pulled outside the hotel. Lando thanked the driver (leaving him a hefty tip on top of the payment) and slid out the car, extending his hand to help you out before he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you on your feet.

You gripped his shirt in tight fists and the boy’s grin only widened as you headed inside, dipping his head to greet the doorman and any other workers you met along the way to your hotel room.

Your brain still felt a little fuzzy from your orgasm when the hotel room door locked with a click behind you. You felt his hands on your waist, turning your body to face him and you felt your heart stop a little when you saw the smile on his face.

“Have I told you how fucking beautiful you look tonight?” he asked, slow steps guiding you further into the room as he kept his hold on you.

“I don’t think you have, Norris, you’re slacking,” you murmured, letting out a small squeal when he pinched your hip. “There’s still time for you to make up for it.”

He raised his brows. “Is that so?”

You pressed your lips together to hold back your smile.

“Well, as gorgeous as you look,” Lando murmured as he ducked his head down, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t wait to take this fucking dress off you. You are wearing far too much for what I wanna do.”

You gulped a little. “And what do you wanna do, Mr Norris?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” he smiled and both of his hands cupped your cheeks before he brought his lips down on yours. “Just need you to sit there and look all pretty for me.”

Lando Norris’ kisses were all-consuming. They were overwhelming and they made your head spin and you didn’t ever want the sensation to stop. He was a good fucking kisser and sometimes that alone could make you feel fuzzy and needy and eager for more.

However, that was far from the case tonight.

Lando’s patience lasted all of five minutes before he stayed true to his word, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress and pulling it off your body, only to throw it somewhere else in the room. He didn’t even give you a chance to unclasp your heels before he was nudging you onto the bed, crawling over you and his lips never once leaving your body.

His shirt was long gone but when you tried to unbutton his trousers, he slapped your hands away and muttered for you to keep them on the bed before he began to kiss lower and lower down your body.

Some nights, Lando could have the patience of a saint. And some nights, he just wanted to nuzzle his head between your thighs and never leave.

“Lando!”

His arms were wound around your thighs to keep you locked in place, one hand cupping your tits whilst laid on your stomach. The noises echoing through the room were debauched and scandalous and he had never heard anything so pretty. The way you moaned his name in between strings of curses, accompanied with the sound of his tongue lapping and licking and sucking your needy cunt like he was a starved man.

He never wanted to leave this moment.

Your thighs squeezed around his ears and he groaned against you, his eyes falling shut as his lips wrapped around your clit. He watched as you arched at the sensation, as you gripped the sheets between your fingers, as you lamely attempted to buck your hips against him only for the hand on your stomach to push you back down.

“Taste so fucking good,” he moaned, his words muffled and mumbled. “This is what I fucking wanted after my race, not some stupid party.”

“Shit,” you cried out, your heels scratching down his back as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. “Please, please!”

Lando let out a whimper as your fingers tangled between his curls, tugging and pulling as you ground your cunt against his face. His hands squeezed your hips, tight enough that they would probably bruise in the morning but neither of you cared.

He pinned you down to the bed, one hand pushing your leg closer to your chest and the other keeping your leg locked in place as his tongue eagerly lapped your needy cunt. You were soaking, practically gushing down your thighs and onto the bed but Lando didn’t think he had ever seen a prettier sight.

There was a dull pain with each tug of his hair as you came, a dull pain that went straight down to his cock as he watched you squirm and wiggle underneath him as you screamed his name. He couldn’t get enough of you, the taste of you and the way you feel in his hands with your thighs wrapped around him and—

“Please,” you sobbed, your body shaking as you tried to come down from your high, only to feel Lando eagerly still lapping the mess you made between your legs. “Please, baby, I-I need you inside of me.”

And fuck, if there was one thing he loved more than eating you out until your pretty little head couldn’t handle it, it was seeing you beg for his cock.

“Yeah? Need me to fill you up?” he murmured, his warm breath fanning over your inner thighs as he placed sloppy kisses along your skin, up your stomach and chest until your nose was brushing against his. “Need me to fuck you, baby?”

“Please,” you whined, your hands gripping his biceps like you were scared he was going to pull away again. “Please.”

“Don’t need to cry, baby, gonna give my girl what she wants,” he murmured before leaning down to kiss you. “Plus, we are only on two.”

You frowned a little, opening your mouth to ask him what he meant but a sharp slap against your thigh cut you off.

“On all fours, baby, let me see that pretty ass you have been teasing me with all night,” Lando muttered and you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore, not when you wanted him inside you so desperately.

He was so careful when he first slid inside you, letting out a guttural noise as he felt the walls of your cunt clench around his cock as you took him inch by inch. His hands were constantly on you, squeezing and caressing you as he whispered praised reassurances. He waited until he was completely sheathed inside you, his pelvis pressed against your ass and his cock so deep inside you, you could have sworn you felt him in your stomach.

He waited until you were nice and stretched out and ready for him.

And then, it was like a flip had switched inside the boy’s head.

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounced off the walls of the room, the noises leaving your lips were borderline pornographic and Lando wished he could remember every single detail of this night for the rest of his life.

His hands gripped your hips, guiding your hips back into him to match his hard, fast-paced thrusts. His eyes were glued on the way your cunt greedily took his cock, the way he disappeared with each thrust, only to pull out covered in more of your arousal. He wanted the image burned into the back of his eyelids.

“Atta girl,” Lando groaned, the quick slap against your ass followed by the needy whine you let out making his head spin. “Taking my cock so well, like you were fucking made for me.”

“Shit, please,” you moaned, your head fuzzy and your body tired and all you could think about was Lando hitting that spot again and again and again and again. “Lando, please!”

“So fucking desperate,” he laughed, bordering the line of mocking and it shouldn’t have made you clench around his cock, but it did. And it only encouraged him further. “That’s right, all fucking dumb for my cock, right, baby? Just mine.”

You were too far lost in the pleasure when you came for a third time that night, your arms losing the strength to hold your body up any longer. Your cheek was pressed against the cool sheets, your fingers gripping the fabric as pleasure washed over you like crashing waves. You whined, feeling the bulge of him deep inside you as he thrusted again and again, and you waited for him to spill inside you.

But he didn’t.

He kept fucking you.

“L-Lando,” you choked out, your body jerking with each of his thrusts as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your lips parted, a pathetic noise leaving your lips and tears welled along your lash line. “Too much, please, I-I can’t—”

“You can, baby,” he groaned out, his hand reaching out to take one of yours in his. “One more f’me, pretty girl, need to feel you come on my cock one more time.”

“Lando–”

“Please, baby,” he moaned, his head falling back as your walls clenched around him.

This time when you came, he followed right behind you. Neither one of you spoke, your bodies covered in a layer of sweat and your chests panting to try and catch your breath. Lando squeezed your hips, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your ass cheek before he slowly slid out, watching the mess you both created.

You whined, your body slumping against the mattress and Lando couldn’t help but giggle as he crawled back up the bed, taking your body in his arms as you became a lump of tangled limbs.

“That’s three and four,” he murmured against your temple and you lifted your head as realisation finally dawned on you.

“You wanted me to come four times,” you commented and he only grinned in response.

“It is my number after all,” he said like it was obvious. “And you’re my girl. It makes sense.”

You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I’m yours,” Lando murmured, watching as your eyes fell shut as you leaned your head against his chest. He lightly shook you. “Hey, pretty girl, need you to stay awake so we can take a shower.”

“We can have one in the morning,” you said, your words muffled as you nuzzled your face further into his chest.

“Yeah, right,” Lando snorted before patting your ass. “C’mon, I’ll wash your hair. And we need to take your makeup off, baby, I wanna see my gremlin.”

“You are so doting,” you deadpanned.

“I just don’t wanna deal with a grumpy girlfriend in the morning—ouch!” Lando hissed, glaring down at you. “Geez, tough crowd, I was joking.”

You lifted your head, flashing him a lazy smile. “Carry me?”

He playfully rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I love you too, my podium boy,” you murmured teasingly, leaning up to kiss him and Lando didn’t have it within him to not smile into the kiss.

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lafleshlumpeater · 5 months

Note

Could you please do a Luke x sunshine reader where Luke asks the reader on a date, and they agreed. Then, when he comes to pick them up at her cabin, their siblings interrogate him and threaten him a little if he hurts their sibling.

I hope you’re okay with child of aphrodite reader<3

Warnings: fem!reader, teasing, very slightly suggestive comment- lmk if there’s anything else<3

luke castellan masterlist

Luke didn’t know whether to be nervous or slightly flattered that he was receiving looks from the window which were impossible to ignore.

Dressed in an unbuttoned blue flannel which he’d borrowed from one of his siblings and a plain white t- shirt underneath, he wonders whether he should have opted for something more formal instead when he sees slightly mocking smirks and giggles from your fashion expert siblings.

Or maybe it was too formal.

He was unsure as to which way round he had it wrong.

And then there were the flowers. What would be more romantic, fancy, cellophane- wrapped roses or something simpler with just a satin bow? After consulting Katie Gardner, his brother’s girlfriend, about his dilemma she had snipped off some lush, crimson roses for him so the stems were short and wrapped around with a thin piece of white ribbon. Only now he realised how stupid he probably looked, a small gift so classy and somewhat luxurious and in an attire so casual.

It wasn’t an everyday occurrence for Luke Castellan to feel hot all over and want the ground to swallow him whole, but there were few and rare occurrences. Like the first time he had been at camp he had been wandering aimlessly to find where everyone was getting their food from (why had no- one thought to tell him that all he had to do was think about the food he wanted?), or when he had somehow managed to singe some of his hair off that one time he was in the Hephaestus cabin since they were in the same team as him for capture the flag (he had told them the flamethrowers were too much for their chariot) and, well, like now.

Just as he was weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of knocking on the cabin and asking for you (he’d be able to escape the taunting laughter sooner, but the overpowering smell of all the cosmetics and perfumes gave him a headache) the door finally swung open and oh if his heart wasn’t beating a thousand miles an hour before it definitely was now.

You were dressed in a sundress of pure white, that was snatched in places and hung loose in others perfectly. Your skin was smooth and glassy, reflecting the glow of the white fabric. Lips curled upwards into an easygoing smile, painted a pretty bubblegum pink colour Luke often associated with your personality. Two tendrils of hair carelessly free from the confines of the simple yet elegant style of your hair framing your face perfectly- the very embodiment of Aphrodite’s kin.

It was only when you giggle a small “Hi,” that Luke realises his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. He clears his throat, standing up straighter and hand running through his hair.

“Hey,” he stammers. “You look…”

“Oi, loverboy!” His flustered compliment is cut- off with a shout from the open cabin window. His head whips towards the sound, slightly miffed that the moment was interrupted.

Mitchell. One of your brothers.

“Treat her well, alright?”, the smug boy yells, self- satisfaction written all over his face. “And no touchy- touchy business.”

Luke’s half- tempted to grab your hand and run away from the teasing. “Uh, you-”

“Yeah, what he said! Treat her well!” Lacy’s head pops out next to her brother’s, nails half- painted where they grip the window frame. “And be back before eight, okay? We have a girls’ night planned! No forgetting, or I swear I will interrupt whatever frisky business-”

“Okay, okay!” You interrupt, vivacious laughter escaping your throat. “That’s enough, I think we get the message.” You slip your delicate hand into his, looking up at him through long eyelashes. “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke mutters with an abashed smile, relieved to be saved from the incessant torture and just wanting to get to the destination of your date as soon as possible. Just as shyly, he holds the flowers out to you, awaiting your approval.

You take them. “For me? They’re so lovely.” You inhale them, eyes fluttering closed at the fragrance. “Thanks, so much!” You reach up on tiptoes, even on white heels, and quickly kiss his cheek.

As the two of you walk away, hand in hand, Luke curses at the way his cheeks flush at the titters and hollers of your siblings under his breath.

Not proofread- pls lmk if there's any mistake/it doesn’t make sense

taglist: @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

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adore-laur · 6 months

Text

HOME IS A FEELING

— former high school sweethearts reunite for a conversation about what went wrong 🌃

——

"Don't turn around."

The vague statement thrown your way sends speculations trickling through your brain. Those three words usually never mean anything good. What is it? Or who is it? Whatever the mystery, it makes you anxious based on your friend's wary expression.

"Just tell me," you say timidly, becoming tense in the diner booth with a forkful of red velvet cake halfway to your mouth. "Tell me so I don't have the urge to actually turn around."

"Your ex," she mutters, never one to beat around the bush, much to your appreciation. "He just walked in. Don't kill me for saying this, but he looks really good."

You kick her foot under the table and sink further into the leather seat. "Why is he here? He's supposed to be in another country."

It's not an exaggeration or falsity. Harry is supposed to be in not only another country but also another continent entirely—the Netherlands, to be exact.

Your friend risks another glance at the front door. "Well, he's back, and it's like he never left. Look at them..." She shakes her head slowly. "Hyping him up like he's a goddamn hero."

You assume she means the people you went to high school with. A hometown get-together with a small crowd of classmates from nearby colleges is being held at everyone's favorite local retro-style diner to celebrate the last week of summer break. It was going swell until Mr. Marine Biologist, who probably makes studying abroad his whole personality, waltzed through the door.

You cradle your left cheek with your hand to create a shield for your face in case he happens to look over. "I'm almost done with my cake, and then we can leave."

"Good luck," she sings. "The only booth open is the one right behind us."

Of course. Sighing, you silently pray that Harry won't come near you. You doubt he'll try to talk to you anyway since it's been complete radio silence on both ends for over two years. You're really hoping the breakup doesn't get brought up.

A sudden and forceful compulsion tells you to catch a quick glimpse to see how he looks, what he wears nowadays, and how he acts when you're not around. It's hard to resist.

"He's coming this way," alerts your friend through a spoonful of vanilla ice cream.

The universe must be listening, and you can't combat the urge anymore. Someone as beautiful as him begs to be looked at. You sure as hell didn't break up with him because he was unattractive.

Subtly peeking to your left, you see Harry in person for the first time in what seems like forever. It's only a short window of time where you can take in his presence as he walks closer to sit with a group of people in the booth behind you.

Black skinny jeans. Nothing has changed there.

Chelsea boots. Since when does he wear those?

A gray, tattered sweater, and a blue beanie. It's summer, for crying out loud.

Most surprising, however, is his hair, which now falls just a tad below his jaw. The same soft curls you would run your fingers through until he fell asleep.

You continue picking at your dessert, your mind running a mile a minute at the sight of him. The fact that he's behind you—thankfully facing the other way—but still inches away nonetheless is nerve-wracking. If you move your head back even the tiniest bit, it'll touch his own.

Did he notice you? Does he know his ex-girlfriend is in the same room and thinking about everything he could be thinking? Like how you never forgot about him as much as you tried to?

He's speaking, but you can't piece together what he's saying because you're too distracted by how his voice has deepened over the years. The rasp and British drawl are still there, and the warmth and comfort of it still make your heart race.

Your friend keeps stealing glances and looking at you with apprehensive eyes that cause prickles of anxiety on your skin. "What?" you whisper.

Before she can reply, you feel something nudge the back of your neck. You strain your peripheral vision and see Harry's elbow resting on the top of your booth.

"Oops, sorry," he says, twisting around in his seat.

You automatically turn and look at him. It's impossible not to since he's like a human magnet for the eyes. His face is so close to you now. Have his eyes gotten greener? Why does he have such beautiful lashes? Does he have more freckles on his nose since you saw him last?

Snap out of it!

"It's fine," you mumble, shaking your head and quickly turning around. Your heart feels like it's in your throat.

Finishing the rest of your dessert, you lean forward so he doesn't accidentally bump you again. Your friend raises her eyebrows at you and taps her foot against yours.

"So, your brother is coming to visit soon?" you ask, ignoring her questioning look and attempting to make any sort of conversation to distract from Harry.

"Yeah, tomorrow. My mom is going to weep happy tears."

"Aw. Remind me to visit her before the semester starts."

The leather seat suddenly squeaks behind you, and your breathing goes uneven for the third time tonight.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Harry asks his group of friends.

They all tell him their desired orders, and shortly after, you see him walk past your booth. He heads toward the counter with long strides and hands he doesn't know what to do with. His back is turned, so you use your chance to shamelessly observe him. He looks different but familiar all the same. He has the same body, although he looks buff. Same friendly personality, although you've missed out on it lately. Same gentle presence, although it wasn't that way the night you separated.

"Didn't you once tell me that he always ordered ginger ale at restaurants?"

You look at your friend, processing her question. "Yes. He never mixed it with anything, either. Just drank it straight up like a freak."

"Gross," she says with a wince. "I think he just ordered one."

Once again, the counter is your focal point; this time, you notice the glass of creamy yellow liquid on it. You internally gag at how Harry could still drink that. Harry then walks back to his booth, skillfully carrying two glasses in each of his hands like he worked as a waiter in his past life. You don't even try to hide the fact that you're staring.

Eventually, he catches your eye and abruptly stops in his tracks. You watch him blink a couple times before he continues to the table and sets down the drinks for everyone.

"I'll grab some napkins," he murmurs, leaving again.

You slide your empty plate toward the center of the table and watch him fumble while taking out napkins from the dispenser. Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

When he walks by for the second time, he jerks his chin up to the ceiling. You furrow your eyebrows in response.

He nonchalantly repeats the gesture as he starts passing napkins around. You shake your head, nonverbally telling him that you have no clue what he's conveying.

His jaw clenches before he mouths, "Come with me."

"Absolutely not," you mouth back as you fiddle with the sugar packets.

Harry huffs and sits in his seat.

Everything used to be so easy with him.

——

Two Years Ago

It was graduation day, and you were inserting a silver hoop earring in the pierced hole of your earlobe when three thumps gently rattled your bedroom door.

"Knock knock."

In the reflection of your vanity mirror, you grinned giddily. "Come in! It's unlocked."

Harry opened the door with a pout on his lips. "You're supposed to say who's there."

"Wha—" you stammered confusedly, turning around in your chair. "I hate you."

He shuffled inside and immediately bellyflopped onto your bed. "Wow. I missed you too."

"Just kidding," you said, flashing him a winning smile. "You left your laptop charger here, by the way. I set it on the kitchen table."

"Thank you, baby," he mumbled into your pillow.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Mm, c'mere." He lazily patted the space next to him. "Let's cuddle before we have to sit far away from each other for the rest of the night."

"It'll only be for a couple of hours at most," you replied, putting in your other earring. "Don't be so dramatic."

After tidying your vanity area, you stood and slinked into bed with Harry. The lavender-colored sunset filtered through your sheer curtains and created a serene ambiance. Harry's body rolled over on top of yours, his weight providing the perfect amount of warmth and comfort. The scent of his almond oil shampoo reduced your nerves. You reached for your phone and set an alarm for fifteen minutes from now so he would have enough time to get ready, then pulled the blanket over both of your heads, not caring if the hair you spent precious time on became tousled. It would mostly be hidden under the immensely unflattering graduation cap anyway.

Harry's clean-shaven cheek rested on your chest, and he planted a chaste kiss on your collarbone. He had always been the affectionate type. Touch was his love language, and he never failed to fulfill it with you.

Every touch strengthened your love for him. Every touch left you longing for more. Every touch felt purposeful.

——

You swear he's doing it on purpose. You know he is.

Harry keeps leaning his head back until it faintly touches yours. Nuzzling it, if you will. That, or he'll clasp his hands behind his head and loosely twirl a strand of your hair.

This time, he pretends to yawn and stretch his arms before tickling behind your ear. He knows goddamn well it's the place where you're the most ticklish. You pretend to have an itch and bring your hands back to slap his burning touch away, but of course, he takes the opportunity to be a pest and capture your fingers.

You yank them away and clear your throat. "I need to go to the bathroom," you tell your friend before getting up and making a beeline straight to the back of the diner.

When you open the door, you sigh relievedly when you find all the stalls open, and no one is lingering. You pace toward the farthest wall and rub your hands down your face. Two years without Harry, and not a single call or text, only the occasional picture you'd see of him when you caved and scrolled through his social media during particularly lonely nights. Yet tonight, he acts like you're best buds who can tease each other and initiate playful touches like you didn't end on a terrible note that made both of your hearts shatter into smithereens. Maybe this is some bizarre dream you'll wake up from and laugh about later.

You blow out a sharp breath and wash your hands before splashing cold water onto your heated cheeks.

"Were my hands dirty or something?"

Your whole body flinches. Now, he's just plain annoying. How long has he been standing there?

"Why are you in here?" you ask monotonously.

Footsteps come closer. You keep your back turned.

He laughs softly and says, "How've you been?"

Such a master at avoiding questions. "That wasn't what I asked."

"That wasn't an answer," he replies smugly. You can practically hear the satisfied smile in his voice.

"I've been fantastic, Harry," you say, your words laced with petty sarcasm. "What about you?"

"You sound stressed." He's right next to you now. "Is it because of your job? I heard you're an assistant teacher at the middle school."

Your hands grip the edge of the marble sink. "Who told you that?"

"I knew you'd be here," he says, as if it were obvious. "I had to ask people what you've been up to since you clearly weren't going to tell me yourself."

He asked about you? No, that can't be right. Turning to face him, you let your guard down just a little. "I'm helping with the summer school program."

Harry smiles. If you analyze it enough, it almost looks like a proud one. "That's amazing. What grade do you want to teach in the future?"

A conversation with your ex-boyfriend about career aspirations is entirely too casual for your liking. Doesn't he have friends to catch up with? Some ginger ale to drink?

You shrug and truthfully say, "I haven't decided yet. It's a big decision."

He nods, crossing his arms. "You've got time."

Silence hangs except for the drip of the faucet.

"So... I assume you're still studying marine biology?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

He hums an affirmation. "I'm almost done with my bachelor's degree, and then I'll be on my way to becoming one with the ocean."

You almost let a laugh slip out. "Well, I'm sure it's beautiful in Europe. I can't imagine the view every day."

He nonchalantly plucks a stray strand of hair off your sleeve, making your blood rush. "It is, yeah. It gets a little lonely sometimes, but it's been nice to live somewhere so different from what I was used to."

"You don't have a roommate?"

"Nope, just me. I don't really like sharing my space."

Only if it was with you. He's told you that before. Not that it matters now.

"I know. Don't know why I even asked."

It's a bold statement but a tenuous breakthrough in the barrier of the inevitable and awkward breakup conversation you're dreading.

Harry inhales and takes a step closer. "Come up to the rooftop with me. I don't want our first conversation in two years to be in the women's restroom."

You give him an apologetic look and say, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to head home soon and get up early for work tomorrow."

He toys with the bottom of your shirt. "Please."

It's a soft whisper that echos in the empty space, a begging tone chipping away at the walls built around your heart, paired with pleading eyes so clear and tender. Harmless.

"Okay." You'll kick yourself later for giving in so easily. "Okay, fine. Let's go." You pull out your phone and send a quick text message to your friend about where you'll be. She'll understand the weight of the situation.

Harry walks out of the bathroom, with you following behind. He takes a sharp right toward the concealed metal stairs leading to the diner's roof. He leaves some room so the two of you can walk side by side, your clothes rustling against each other in the narrow space. The rusty door opens, and you step out onto the flat concrete.

Little squares of light shine from the city buildings far away. They cause a strange feeling to wash over you. It can only be described as a powerful wave of hometown nostalgia, even though you never left. You wonder if it's hitting Harry as well.

He stands by the edge and leans his forearms on the railing, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. Is it reminiscence? Yearning? Regret? All could be the reason for the melancholy shift in energy.

"What did we do wrong?"

——

Three Months After Graduation

The party turned sour out of the blue. Harry's friend hadn't just said what you think he said. It was loud, so you must have heard him wrong. Why didn't he tell you? Why did you have to find out from his drunk friend who's not even close to him?

Harry definitely saw your face drop because he instantly pulled you into an unoccupied bedroom upstairs. You'd been arguing for the past half hour, neither one of you inebriated funny enough, but still throwing words that were more like weapons at each other—launching arrows at the heart, shooting daggers at the eyes, and slashing swords in the Achilles heel.

Your weak spot was him, and you were his.

You stood your ground as you spoke your closing statement with frustrated tears. "I'm never going to see you if you're abroad, so what's the difference if I just leave now and never see you again?"

"Will that make you happy?" He was being stubborn; you were, too. "Because obviously, I don't make you happy enough for this to continue. For us to at least try."

He did make you happy, but anger blindly leads people to say what they don't mean, especially in cases of love.

"Obviously not." Lies, lies, lies. "It's useless when we know it'll end badly."

Harry released a bitter laugh. "Fine. Have it your way."

"Fine," you repeated.

You should have fought for him, but what would have been the use if you had known it would only hurt you in the long run?

He roughly swung the door open and then turned around one last time. "You can come pick up your stuff at my house this weekend. I won't be home."

The door slammed shut, and reality sunk in.

——

The open sign of the diner flickers below.

"We did a lot wrong," you declare defeatedly, standing beside him.

"True, but we were eighteen and didn't know anything about communication or how to balance adult shit."

The conversation is heading toward a place you don't want it to go. "I really don't want to talk about our breakup, Harry. It's in the past. We've moved on."

He shakes his head. "Why? There was no closure whatsoever. I think it'd be good to get some now that we're face-to-face."

In the distance, you watch birds flock on the wire of a telephone pole. "Why didn't you just ignore me tonight? We've been doing fine without each other."

He scoffs quietly and leans his body against the railing. "Really? I was homesick for months because of you. You felt like home to me, you know that. The feeling never disappeared no matter how much I pushed it down."

You throw your arms out. "Then why didn't you call or text me? I would've replied, Harry. I'm not that cruel."

"I thought you hated me," he says. "I wouldn't have blamed you. I just couldn't stand having you hate me, so I thought it'd be easier not to talk to you."

It's the classic tale of a high school mindset. You think you're doing the right thing until it slaps you across the face with the hand of cluelessness. You wonder what would've happened if Harry had reached out. Maybe you could've figured it out.

"I didn't hate you," you admit. How could anyone hate him? "I mean, I might've thought that I hated you, but if anything, I still loved you for way too many months after."

Harry looks like he wants to say something, but you continue. "Like you said, we were young and didn't know how to balance a relationship and our lives outside of it. Two years can really mature a person, and we both needed to do that without each other."

He nods while stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Yeah."

The conversation stops at a dead end. There's nothing else to say since it's a mutual understanding of what went wrong.

The breeze picks up, and you shiver before asking, "How long are you here for?"

He clears his throat. "I'm staying with my mum, then I have a flight back to the Netherlands in a few days. I have to go back for an ecology camp."

"That's nice," you say. A couple of days. That knowledge causes an unwanted sinking feeling to take place in your stomach.

"Do you…" He raises his thumb to his mouth, nervously biting his fingernail. "Can we maybe talk more before I leave?"

It's an open opportunity, but what would it lead to? What would come of it? Would it be worth the pain?

"What's there to talk about? You're leaving soon, and then we'll never speak again."

You've taken logical truth more seriously over the years. You've learned that holding on to false hope is dangerous for the heart and mind.

"That won't happen," he replies with a pensive gaze. "We've grown and know how to communicate now. There's so much we've missed in each other's lives that we can talk about. I don't know where you live or the places you like to go anymore, who your friends are, or what new songs you like to listen to. It kills me."

A shaky breath escapes you. "It doesn't matter. We're not right for each other. Call me selfish, but I don't want a relationship where we barely see each other. I'm sure that's not what you want either."

"So, that's it?" he asks, staring at the sky. "Do you not want to give this another chance?"

You can't imagine a more complicated question to answer, but it seems you've known the answer for a while. Gently grabbing Harry's chin and tilting his face down, you say, "Right person, wrong time. It would never work with the distance, and you know that. Deep down, we both know, as much as it hurts to admit."

"What now? We're back to being strangers?"

"Harry, I don't think we'll ever be strangers. I know too much about you."

You're trying to lighten the mood, but Harry's sad eyes aren't helping at all. Instead, you focus on the stars twinkling brightly across the black sky and the single car driving by on the otherwise empty street. Every second that ticks by, he seems to move closer to you.

"If this is the last time I see you," Harry says apprehensively, "can I hold you for a little while? Give me that, and I won't ask you for anything else."

It'd be foolish to say no, wouldn't it? You need to feel him just as much. He's too significant of a person to let go of without a proper goodbye.

"You can hold me."

And so he does for the last time.

Harry closes the distance and embraces you like he always used to — his cheek resting on your head and his arms completely winded around you, squeezing the sides of your body. Breathing you in like he's scared of losing you. It's just you and him standing on a rooftop and holding on to any last bit you can get of each other.

You're tucked so far into his chest that the only thing you can hear is his heart pounding. He's warm and sentimental, and the nighttime chill makes you melt into him even more. He eases you — every laugh, every tear, every moment you share with him was brought about by the ease of being around him.

"You still feel the same." A pang ripples in your heart because of your own words, and a sob desperately tries to crawl up your throat.

Harry nuzzles his nose into your hair. "Yeah? You still smell the same."

You laugh, but it's choked with sadness. "What, like shitty teen store perfume?"

"No, you smell like home. Like when I used to go to your house for sleepovers, and you'd always light those vanilla candles."

Another pang, this time from his vulnerable confession. "I should go," you say, deterring the conversation from any more agony.

He doesn't argue. "Yeah, me too. I never really liked those people in there anyway."

You smile, stepping away from his arms. "I'll walk you to your car."

He nods, and the both of you retreat down the stairs, exiting the building through the back way to avoid any distractions. After reaching the front of the diner, you find his black Jeep sitting alone in a parking space. It's nice to know he still has it, considering it's a car with good memories, like Harry driving you to school every morning and picking up coffee. Or eating fast food outside the high school after a football game. Or nights of endless kissing and professions of love before he walked you to your doorstep.

Facing him under the moonlight tonight, it's time to officially move on.

"Bye. It was really nice to see you." A tear unexpectedly falls from your eye. Maybe it's due to the chilly temperature, but you know better.

Harry's face crumbles. Your composure shatters.

"Please don't cry," he pleads, biting his lip to stop it from wobbling. However, it's too late, and both of you give in to the misery and drama of it all.

"Now we're both crying."

He rubs his eyes and leans against his car door. "God, this fuckin' sucks."

"We'll be okay," you say weakly. "It's fine. We went two years without each other. You'll forget about me soon enough, and it'll be like this never happened."

You're only trying to convince yourself at this point.

"I never forgot about you. You were the first person I fell in love with. How do I move on from that?"

His choice of words isn't something you gloss over. Is he insinuating that he hasn't moved on yet? Should you tell him you haven't either?

Logical thinking, you mentally tell yourself. Don't say something that will make it harder to leave.

"I have to go home now." But isn't home standing right in front of you?

"Okay," Harry says. "I guess… good luck with everything. I hope teaching goes well for you."

You kick away a pebble on the pavement. "Thanks. I hope you become one with the ocean."

He laughs breathily, his dimples popping out for the first time tonight. He then inhales and gazes somewhere far away as his smile dies. When he looks back at you, he nods once before getting in his car.

"Wait."

He freezes. "Yeah?"

Don't make it harder.

Leave.

Don't hurt yourself.

Yet the way he looks at you is enough to ignore those logical thoughts. You lean forward and kiss his cold cheek, and it's like his entire body deflates under your hesitant touch. "Thank you for making me happy during the time we had together," you say against his tear-stained skin. "I never got to tell you that."

Harry sniffles and nods, then kisses your cheek a little longer and softer.

A lasting pang. A lingering sting. A sharp twinge.

Why?

Because the words he whispers to you cause silent tears to fall down your face when he finally closes the door and drives away.

You still mean so much to me.

——

Opening the door to your bedroom, the silence echoes louder than usual. The small space is where memories with Harry can still be found. There's the blanket he used to lie on, the desk he would sit on to help you study, and the dresser you used to keep his shirts in to wear when you missed him. The most tragic thing is an empty photo book on the top shelf of your closet that was meant to be filled with future road trips that never got planned. Next to it are unused polaroids for dates that stopped happening.

Piled at the bottom are a few that actually got used. A picture of Harry when the both of you went to a homecoming afterparty, and you didn't want to drink alcohol, so Harry drank orange Hi-C cartons with you to make you feel better. A picture of Harry on a floating water bouncer at the lake by your uncle's cabin when you went on summer vacation together after junior year. Your favorite picture of him is when he's turned around in the seat of the school auditorium, smiling widely. It was back in high school when nothing could separate you from him.

The pictures remind you of a time when you were in love—not only with him but with life. They feel like home to you.

That feeling of home seems impossible to catch now. It's like chasing a butterfly that keeps escaping from the loose grasp of your hands because you don't want to hurt it.

Are you the hands, or are you the butterfly?

——

The journal on top of Harry's suitcase mocks him. He shouldn't open it, but logical thinking has never been his strong suit.

The first page has pressed and dried lavender taped onto it from the first date he took you on. The next has your drawings in the margin from when you would steal his journal while he studied. Yet most of the pages are filled with lovesick entries about you.

- January 29th -

Last night, I told her I was falling in love with her. She said no one had ever told her that before, and I couldn't believe it. How could someone not instantly fall in love from the moment she walks into a room?

Then she told me that she loved me too. I swear I almost cried with happiness. She's the one for me. I see us being together for the long haul.

I hope she sees the same thing.

- June 6th -

We graduated! We're finally done with high school!

When they called my name, my eyes went to hers first. She looked so proud of me. I wonder if I could convince her to rent an apartment with me instead of staying in different dorms.

College will be strange, but we'll get through it together. I have no doubt we'll adapt and find time for each other.

I always have time for her.

- August 2nd -

I think I'm going to tell her about the college I chose. She's not going to take it well. It's abroad, but it's the best school for marine biology.

She wants to stay close to home, but I want to get out and travel. There's nothing hard about talking through some of our differences, right? Long-distance relationships can work if you put in the effort. We can do it.

If this ends up biting me in the ass, you'll never hear from me again.

Harry stopped writing in his journal after the breakup. It's almost funny, he supposes. He jinxed it in the last entry. He thought of the worst-case scenario, and it came to fruition right before him only days later.

Blissful ignorance is what he'll call it. Two high school sweethearts who didn't know what would hit them. Foolishly in love and blinded by reality. But the thing is, it's not easy to just move on from it. Especially when he brought those damn vanilla candles from his dorm room to his mum's house so he could sleep better at night.

So he can be reminded of home.

It was never a place when he was with you. Home became a feeling that bloomed without warning. It took him by surprise when he found himself wanting to be around you all the time. His home was entirely, ultimately, and unconditionally you.

Harry closes his journal and brings it with him as he heads out the door to search for a drop of that feeling in the places you used to go.

The places he will write about until his hand aches as much as his heart.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles #adore-laur #home is a feeling

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blackbat05 · 11 months

Text

Real or Not Real?

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.

Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think so😬)

A/N: I’m on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!💜

“Shit!” Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.

“An old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!” You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.

“Right… and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osborn’s pumpkins?” Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.

“Well, she used to be great with everyone in school. Can’t say the same about myself.” You winced internally at the memories about your youth. “You know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.”

“Or maybe all three.” Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.

“Thanks, Jess.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Anyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about ‘the girl who everyone always see but doesn’t really know’ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how I’m doing!” You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica can’t help but to look amused. “So?”

“So, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.” The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. “You what now?”

Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. “I know! I’m an idiot! I couldn’t help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girls’ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.”

“The Plastics?”

“It’s a movie reference.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Jessica chuckles. “So what now girl? How’s damage control going?”

“Terrible.” You splat face first into the pillow. “I was thinking of getting help from the guys but…” You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. “Pavitr can’t pretend, Hobie’ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peter’s married with a child - a fact I can’t ignore even if this is fake.”

Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasn’t a good sign.

“There is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.” She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.

“Actually, I think I’m going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Long gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.” Jessica quips. “Come on. He’s a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!”

“I rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.” You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel O’Hara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.

While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didn’t have the word ‘joy’ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.

“Miguel isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Very funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpin’s gangbangers?”

Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadn’t. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What- how long have you been here for?” You struggle to form that one sentence. “Jess…” You start accusingly.

Jessica shrugs, taking Miguel’s presence as a sign to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it!” She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

Miguel raises a brow. “Be your date.” He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.

“What do you want from me?” You blurt out. “You want something in return.” You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.

The end of Miguel’s lips turn upwards slightly, and you’re worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.

“I just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.” He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.

“Am I in some kind of alternate dimension?” You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.

“What’s it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. It’s your choice.”

You hate to say it, but he’s right.

***

“You came!” Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.

“Lils! You look amazing!” You gushed, returning the hug. “Congratulations. What a beautiful place.” You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.

“Thanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. I’m so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!” She gushes, turning to your plus one. “I mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!” She extends a hand. “And who may you be?”

“Miguel O’Hara.” He extends his own hand for a shake. “Congratulations.”

“No need for the formalities!” Lilly smiles brightly. “What I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little can’t you?”

Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.

“Tell me everything!” She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. “We’re… colleagues.” You don’t think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.

Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasn’t being interrogated this intensively on his end.

“We just had the same interests and kind of clicked.” You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. “Everything was just a blur after.”

Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. She’s about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.

“What is this that I’m hearing? You’re actually seeing someone?” The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.

“It’s nice to see you too, Becca.” You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. “I wonder who’s the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!”

“That’s enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesn’t give you the right to insult her.” Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.

“It’s alright, Lils.” You try to remain calm. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later.” You take the lead to escort her back when Becca’s comment brings you to a halt.

“I bet he isn’t even real!”

Although she was right, you couldn’t help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.

“Oh, I’m very real alright.”

You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look… angry?

He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.

“Miguel O’Hara. She has told me a lot about you three.”

“Oh, she has?” Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you don’t know where Miguel is going with this.

“Sure. She’s told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I don’t even know how that happened when she’s a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.” Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.

“Excuse me?” Becca stutters. “Oh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!”

Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.

“Nope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldn’t hesitate to help others. I don’t think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.”

Miguel has done it. He’s left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.

“I think I’m not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?”

You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.

Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.

Just what is going on?

***

The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.

“What’s going on up there?”

Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. “I was just about to ask you the same thing O’Hara.” You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. “Not that I’m ungrateful but that wasn’t like you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to be?”

You paused. “Well… you’re supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at arm’s length I guess?” You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. “And you’re suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.”

Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think he’s about to deliver another sharp retort.

“I did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.” Miguel gruffly tells you. “You were so much like her.”

You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.

“No, I’m the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.” He confesses. “I should have just seen you as… you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. That’s when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how else to react to this sudden revelation.

“But I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.” Miguel continues. “And that. Earlier on.” He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. “I didn’t know that you had to go through all that.”

“Hey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.” You try to lighten things up. “Besides, it’s nothing big.”

Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. “Don’t minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, that’s what made you stood out to me in the first place.”

Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. You’re inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. “I just have one more question.”

Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesn’t interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.

“Real.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman: across the spiderverse

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sarahscribbles · 10 months

Note

What if you did a summer fic where it started out really fluffy where Loki and reader go to the pool or lake, but then the reader pushes Loki in and it’s just like playful fight and then they have pool or lake sex 💀

I meant this to be super smutty but these fools had their own idea and it's smuffy instead! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! This probably has the most anti-climatic ending every and I'm sorry! 😅

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟓𝐤

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

There are many things you dislike about Tony Stark.

You dislike his arrogance that’s barely mellowed a fraction with age. You dislike how he refuses to back down in an argument, even when it’s painfully clear to everyone else that he’s wrong. You dislike the way he makes his hot chocolate with water and has the nerve to call it “the real thing.”

But one thing you adore about him is his generosity.

It’s because of Tony that you can feel a warm afternoon breeze gently caressing your bare skin. It’s, thankfully, not unbearably hot. Instead, it provides just the perfect amount of relief against the mid morning sun that’s making the Pacific Ocean glitter invitingly before you. The breeze brings with it the fragrant scent of the manicured garden just down below, and you can’t help but close your eyes to breathe it in. There are traces of orange and vanilla perfuming the air, along with something spicy that you’ve failed to discern after two days.

It’s a strange combination of scents, yet somehow it works. It reminds you that you’re a million miles away from New York and everything that comes with it.

You aren’t going to be called to any ridiculously early training sessions with Rogers, or asked to help break up whatever pissing contest Thor and Tony have going on. For two weeks - two glorious weeks - you’re just a normal person celebrating her anniversary with the love of her life.

Only you’re doing so on a private island in Mexico that you flew to on Tony Stark’s private jet.

This was his gift to you and Loki - two uninterrupted weeks together to just be a normal couple. You’re still not sure how you can ever thank him, not that he’ll expect you to.

It’s one of the best things about him, though you’ll never say it to his face. His ego, after all, is big enough.

“This place suits you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed.” Your lover’s voice, sweet as honey, drifts across the room. Even after three years together, it still makes tiny butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You turn to see Loki strolling easily through the wide open space of Tony’s beach house. He looks as regal and elegant as ever, even wearing a slouchy pair of grey sweatpants that sit low on his hips. You appreciate that he’s forgone a shirt, choosing instead to flaunt his chiseled chest and the faint red scratch marks still adorning it.

The patchwork of lovebites on his neck, though, isn’t so subtle. Not that you mind - you want everyone and their mother to know that this man is yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so relaxed,” you reply, basking in the feel of his strong arms looping around your waist. You breathe in the scent of him, letting it wrap itself around you like a safety blanket.

It’s Loki. It’s home.

He pulls you back tighter against his bare chest, continuing to loop his arms around you in such a way that you know nothing in the world could ever hurt you, and you soon feel the gentle press of his lips in your hair. It’s these small moments - like being wrapped in his arms while the ocean twinkles happily before you - that you wish you could live in. He’s the love of your life, your best friend, and no amount of time spent with him is ever enough.

“Mmm, if your snoring is anything to go by, then I believe you,” he teases with a playful nip to the tip of your ear. “For a moment I feared my brother had followed us here.”

You grin and bump your hips back against his. “Are you trying to get pushed in the pool? Because it sounds like you’re trying to get pushed in the pool.”

His quick laughter rolls over you, rich and deep as velvet, and the sound of it still makes something warm and golden blossom in your stomach. “Your threats are truly adorable, darling,” he replies, resting his chin atop your head.

It’s only for a second because you’re quickly wrigging in his arms until you’re both face to face. Only now, you get to admire up close the love bites you covered him in the night before, and how his pale skin makes them deliciously prominent. He looks so beautiful, so damned sinful, that you’re filled with a new determination that he’ll be wearing your marks for the entire two weeks.

“What? You don’t think I could push you in that pool?” You feign offense, but the twinkle of mischief in his eyes tells you he knows you’re only starting the age old game between you both.

“Darling, do tell me,” he begins smoothly, bending easily to lock his hands behind your knees and toss you over his shoulder like you weigh less than air. “How exactly do you plan on accomplishing that from here?” He gives your ass a light slap as if to emphasise his point.

He lets his hand rest there as he carries you through the house, all the while your half hearted cries of protest melt quickly to bubbles of laughter. “You never play fair! Asshole!” you pretend to huff as he effortlessly sends the bamboo doors swinging open without so much as a touch.

It’s hotter than you anticipated outside - much hotter - and you’re quickly grateful for the coolness of Loki’s skin seeping through the thin material of your robe like a soothing balm. It’s a gratefulness that doesn’t last long - little more than a space of a heartbeat - when Loki decides to roughly pinch your ass, hard enough that your cunt clenches and you know that a bruise will be blooming beautifully there come tomorrow.

“Oh, darling, has it really taken you all this time to notice?” he teases, turning down the shaded path that winds lazily down to the pool.

Unseen by him, you roll your eyes.

With each step Loki takes, the air grows thicker with the sweet scent of vanilla and the heavy scent of the Mexican heat. The trees towering above are alive with the cheerful melodies of a choir of songbirds and, in the distance, you can hear the rush of water from the impressive waterfall that spills neverendingly into the pool. It’s so blissfully peaceful that you could easily fall asleep on Loki’s shoulder, but as the crashing of the waterfall grows closer and you realise he’s heading towards the pool, you quickly stop chattering and stiffen on his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare,” you warn him slowly, trying your best to prop yourself up on his strong back. His skin is so wonderfully cool against yours, though, that you can’t stop the quiet moan of contentment.

A large hand runs along the back of your thigh, sending a trail of goosebumps erupting along your body as how deceptively harmless it feels. “Hmm? Whatever do you mean, darling?” he replies innocently. “I only thought we could admire Stark’s pool together.”

That damn pool.

You try vainly to twist in his grip, to try and calculate just how many seconds you have before he’s tossing you into the water, but, no matter how you turn, all you can see is the sandstone tiles of the floor.

“We’ve admired this pool every night since we got here! It’s probably more familiar with your ass than I am!” you shoot back, just as Loki comes to a stop right by the edge of the pool.

He doesn’t reply, but makes a show of turning left and right, as though he’s deliberating where best to throw you in to keep himself safe from your inevitable retaliation when you resurface. You feel him adjust his arms around you, letting one snake across your bare legs as though he’s preparing to toss you in, and fresh protests spill easily from your lips in a last desperate plea.

“Loki! I mean it! Don’t you dare….!” Your voice has risen several octaves and you’re wriggling in his grip, something you know is completely pointless. If Loki wants to throw you in the pool, then you’re going to be thrown in the pool.

You feel yourself moving through the air and your arms are already flailing, bracing for contact with the clearer than crystal water. You’re even sucking in a breath and closing your eyes in preparation…

But your feet come into quick contact with the solid ground beneath you.

When your eyes snap open, Loki is grinning wickedly at you and those pretty green eyes are dancing with mischief. You swear you fall in love with him a little bit more.

“Did you really think I’d do that to you, darling?” he purrs smoothly, looping strong arms back around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.

Thankful as you are for the soothing coolness seeping off him, you answer with a soft thwack that you know barely tickles him. “Yes! Throwing someone in a pool - throwing me in a pool - is your equivalent of setting a child loose in a bouncy castle!” You try to sound stern, but he can no doubt see the grin that’s threatening to break across your face.

He’s a mischievous scamp, he’s what your grandmother would fondly call a rascal, but he can make you smile as easily as breathing. It’s one of the many, many reasons why you love him with every last fibre of your being, with your entire soul. He’s your God of Mischief and you wouldn’t have him any other way.

Loki lets his face fall, but love still shines in his eyes like a new star in the night sky. “I am wounded, darling, that you think so little of me. Perhaps I wasn’t generous enough last night?” He slides his hands down to squeeze your ass, and a new look settles across his handsome face.

Lust.

Something hot and molten lurches to life in your stomach and your core burns almost instantly at the memory of him between your thighs. His warm tongue licking and lapping for hours until you felt all but boneless against the mattress and his quiet moans as though bringing you to climax was the sole source of his pleasure.

You breathe in deeply and your fingers curl into the bare skin of Loki’s shoulder. It’s something he doesn’t miss - of course he doesn’t miss - and he squeezes your ass again, this time notably rougher.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought,” he purrs, so low and deep that you can feel it rumbling through his chest. “If those glorious little noises you made all night were an indication, you did seem quite fond of my mouth, darling.”

That sinfully talented mouth of his. Not only could it weave words so sweet that your heart filled with warmth, but it could make you see entire galaxies explode behind your eyes.

One cool hand rises to cup your cheek and you lean easily into it. Loki’s eyes are sparkling in front of you, and you know you’re looking at a man so hopelessly in love that he would burn the world to cinders if you asked. He looks so soft, so happy, and it’s only you that will ever see him this way.

It’s intoxicating.

His eyes flick to your lips and you part them almost on instinct. His hand at your waist pulls you tighter against him until you can feel his racing heartbeat thumping against yours. You wait until his lips are barely a milimetre from yours, until you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks.

You wait until he leasts expect it to shove him with all your strength into the pool.

It’s the unexpectedness that makes it a success, and he falls into the water all flailing limbs and colourful curses. It’s the most undignified you’ve ever seen him and a shout of laughter rises out of you like a butterfly on the wind, even though you’ve likely signed your own death warrant.

Your heart is racing in your chest when he surfaces and you see the dangerous glint now glittering in his eyes, the one that tells you he’ll show no mercy once he gets his hands on you. Still, you can’t wipe the prideful smile from your face - it’s been months since you’ve managed to trick him.

He glides effortlessly - elegantly, even - through the water, even with the weight of his soaking sweatpants. “That was a very foolish thing to do, dove,” he warns, the deep, playful timbre of his voice making your cunt clench in anticipation of what he’s planning.

You expect him to climb out of the pool and throw you back over his shoulder. Maybe he’ll take you straight to the cabana and lay you across his knee. Or, maybe he’ll edge you senseless for a few hours before making you cum again and again and again, until you’re barely able to string two words together…

What you didn’t expect, though, was for Loki to reach and grab you easily around the knees until you’re folded over his shoulder.

“No, Loki, don’t -!” You manage to screech out between rolls of laughter before he drops you in the water without ceremony.

It washes over you, cool and refreshing against the Mexican heat, and you find you almost want to stay submerged between the twinkling surface. When you do resurface, your robe is sticking tight to your body and Loki is wearing a grin so boyish and infectious that you can’t help but return it.

You launch yourself at him across the water, aiming to knock him backwards as further retaliation, but he barely stumbles and catches you easily in his arms.

“Truly an admirable attempt, but you’ll have to try much harder than that,” he teases smoothly.

You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he only twists his arms tighter around your waist to press you firmly against his chest. “Let me go and I will,” you reply, still trying in vain to wrench yourself free.

Loki’s answering laughter is light and makes your heart skip a beat. “Darling, I have no intention of letting you go. Not when you still owe me a kiss.”

Playfully, you turn your head to the side in a refusal to meet his request. “Nope. I don’t want to kiss you,” you pretend to huff, but barely a second later a strong hand presses against your cheek to make you face him.

And then his lips are crashing against yours.

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat because as long you live you’ll never grow tired of how it feels to kiss him. His lips are soft as fresh snow, and they’re moving so slowly and lazily against your own that your first instinct is to try and pull him even closer, even though you’re skin on skin.

You would melt into this man if you could.

His hands wander easily to your chest to begin pushing the sopping wet material of your robe off your shoulders, and it’s impossible not to moan into his mouth when his fingers dance over your bare skin in a hungry search for more. Yours follow beneath the water, eagerly reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants only to be met with the firm muscles of his lower stomach.

You grin into the kiss. “Presumptuous,” you tease against his lips, letting your fingers trace idly along the hardened length of him beneath the water.

“Would you have turned me down, dove?” he replies, nipping gently at your lower lip while he rolls his hips into your hand.

“No,” you breathe out, twisting yourself back around him.

It’s just you and Loki - naked, and making out in Tony Stark’s swimming pool like a pair of lust fueled teenagers. It’s invigorating, it’s addictive. Nothing on earth could make you give this man up.

The easy, languid silence of your kiss is only broken by the melody of birdsong from above and the crash of the waterfall behind you. You’re so focused on Loki - how his hands feel as they explore your body like you’re a work of art and how his hair feels tangled around your fingers - that you barely notice he’s walking you both backward in the pool until you’re hit with the full force of the waterfall from above.

It only lasts for a second, but you still pull back from Loki with a screech of shock and a look of amused exasperation. “Was that…was that really -,” you begin, only to be cut off by his mouth finding yours again.

It’s only then that you realise he’s pushed you into the little alcove hidden behind the waterfall. The Mexican sun is no longer burning down on you and instead, it’s blissfully cool. It’s comfortable.

God, how you love him.

Loki’s hands are still grasping you like he fears you’ll slip away and his lips are worshipping every part of you that he can reach. He’s everywhere all at once, almost as though you’re going to be snatched from him before he has the chance to love you.

“Beautiful thing. Enchanting creature,” he murmurs, kissing his way down your neck and setting your blood on fire.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know,” you manage to force the words out while his teeth nip at your skin.

You feel the wet heat of his tongue soothing the marks he’s just made, and if it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you swear you would crumble to the floor of the pool.

“Oh, darling, I’d like to see you try,” he replies, just as your back hits the smooth wall of the alcove.

You let him press you against it until you aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. His mouth is hot and heavy and demanding against yours, and already he’s wrapped a hand around your knee to coax your leg around his waist. It’s a request you grant him easily, quickly wrapping both around him to pull him tight against you and letting your heels squeeze against the flesh of his ass.

That perfect, godly ass.

Loki moans shamelessly into your mouth as your grip makes his cock brush teasingly against you. It’s one sound that you’ll never tire of hearing - the sound of your lovers pleasure - and it sends molten heat flowing through your blood.

It’s an automatic reaction to then twist your fingers tighter in his soaking curls, anything to pull that divine sound from him once again. “God, you’re sexy when you moan.” It’s a mindless comment, but it slips from your lips before you can stop it.

Because, well, he is.

You feel Loki pull back and when you peer at him through half lidded eyes, his lips are curled in that devilishly handsome smirk that sends your heart skipping in your chest. “And what of the rest of the time? Must you keep wounding me, my darling?” he teases, all while dragging his cock torturously through your cunt.

A moan flutters from you as eager fingers grasp his broad shoulders. Wantonly, you try to spread your legs further, try to invite him in, but it’s impossible when he’s already got you spread like a sin for him.

“You know I think you’re beautiful,” you breathe out, head hitting the stone behind you as the tip of his cock brushes wondrously over your clit.

His every touch feels electric and you know he’s ruined you for anyone else. Not that there’ll ever be anyone else, of course; Loki is your missing puzzle piece and your entire heart. He’s yours for keeps.

“Oh?” he answers and latches on to the sensitive skin of your neck once more, but still not easing into you the way you’re desperate for him to. “And what else, hmm?”

You laugh softly in his ear and you swear you feel him smile against your neck. You’ll play along. If he wants praise then you’ll give it to him until your lungs give out. “You’re brave. So brave. My beautiful, brave boy,” you murmur while he continues to nip along your throat.

He pauses to press a gentle, lingering kiss to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, only to resume his path of lovebites across your collarbone.

“You’re funny. God, you’re funny, most times without even trying.” You keep going, hearing him hum in approval against your skin.

He’s been mostly silent, but you can feel how much he loves you in every press of his lips and nip of his teeth. It’s enough to have tears prick at the backs of your eyes.

“You make me feel like I’m enough every single day,” you say in little more than a whisper. You feel his lips go still against your collarbone, and then he’s pulling back to look at you with those glittering green eyes. “You’re a good person, Loki, and you’re my best friend.”

His eyes soften at the same time the water around you ripples. He clasps your face in both hands to place a blistering kiss to your waiting lips. It’s hot and heavy and passionate, and you feel it all the way down to your toes. You’re clasping his shoulders like he’s your life raft and drinking him in like oxygen.

He’s Loki. He’s all you’ll ever need.

Slowly, he pulls back from your lips to let his nose bump against yours and you feel him roll his hips, pressing the entire hardened length of his cock against your aching cunt. “Say my name,” he says huskily. It’s both an order and a plea.

“Loki…ugh!” you groan shamelessly when the tip of his cock brushes tormentingly over your clit. Your nails are digging so hard into his shoulders that you can clearly see the tiny half moons marking his skin, but he still doesn’t give you what you crave.

“Again,” he demands, unquestionable lust now dripping from his voice.

“Loki…fuck…please!” You arch your back against the cool stone as he presses against your entrance

“Again.”

“Loki!” The third cry of his name melts to a whine when he slides himself inside you in one smooth thrust, until you’re filled to the brim with your god.

Eager muscles clench desperately around him because you’re close to drunk on the solid feel of him between your legs and impatient for the first glorious thrust of his hips. It doesn’t come, though, and instead, he rests his forehead against yours while he’s buried inside you. You can feel the impatient twitch of his cock, but still, he doesn’t move.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” he says softly, voicing the same thought you’ve had about him time and time again. “My beautiful little mortal. How lucky am I to call you mine.”

His voice is sweeter than honey and sends warmth flooding through your veins, filling every inch of you with so much love for him that you fear it will spill from your pores. This beautiful, perfect man - who never stops doubting how worthy he is of your love - is everything you ever dreamed of and more.

You want to tell him, to tell him that he’s the reason you breathe and the reason your world spins, but it’s impossible to convey the depth of your feelings. “I love you.” You settle on saying. It’s soft and quiet and you know he knows, but his eyes light up each and every time you tell him, and right now they’re glittering like new stars.

Will you ever tire of how devastatingly beautiful he is?

There’s another quiet ripple of calm, turquoise water as he leans in to kiss you again, and this time it’s wondrously slow and deep. It feels like magic, like he’s pouring his entire soul into this one kiss. You loop your arms tighter around his shoulders and his hips finally begin to roll against yours as equally slow and deep as his kiss.

That’s when you realise. He isn’t going to fuck you beneath this waterfall - he’s going to make love to you.

His lips are locked with yours while he moves, each slow, deliberate thrust of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you perfectly. Your quiet whimper mixes with his deep moan, and you press the heels of your feet against his ass again, pushing him deeper still with each thrust because you can never get him close enough.

“You’re…you’re amazing, Loki,” you say stupidly when you break for air. “Completely amaz…ugh!”

Your praise melts to another moan when he buries his face in your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along your flushed skin at the same you feel his hand groping around beside you.

“Take my hand,” he breathes out roughly. It’s such an innocent request that makes your heart feel like it will burst.

What did you do so right to deserve this man?

Wordlessly, you intertwine your fingers with his, feeling him squeeze your hand as he begins to build you toward the edge. He knows your body so intimately that it doesn’t take long for the first heady ripples of pleasure to flicker in your core.

Loki rests his forehead against your temple, grunting and whimpering so beautifully in your ear that it sends an inferno burning between your thighs. Each thrust of his cock has you keening and babbling out pleas for more - and more he’s only too happy to give you.

He’s filling you so beautifully and making you dance right on the edge of pleasure that you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll last without toppling over.

Loki, though, silences your worries barely a moment later with a pornographic grunt. “I’m close…darling…’m so close,” he pleads shakily as you cradle his head against you.

“Loki…I’m - “

“Cum for me,” Loki interrupts huskily with another squeeze of your hand. “Please, darling.”

Barely a second later, your climax rips through every inch of you and Loki’s name is falling from your lips like a prayer. He freefalls at the exact moment you do, pressing you firmly against the stone while he chases every last drop of his pleasure. It’s dizzying, almost, to hear his curses, his moans, his cries of your name as his orgasm shatters him.

Even more dizzying are the sounds of his deep, heavy pants in your ear as he comes down from his high, and his chest heaves against yours while you both catch your breath. You, an insignificant little mortal, have made this god unravel like string. It makes pride bloom through you and clutch him that little bit tighter to your chest.

“I love you,” Loki murmurs quietly, his lips ghosting across your cheek in the softest of kisses. “But, darling, I simply must have you again,” he teases and easily tosses you back over his shoulder.

You can’t help but laugh as he wades through the water, not even close to tired. “Maybe in a bed this time? I think that would be nice.”

His shoulder shakes beneath you. “There are 32 rooms in Stark’s humble home. I don’t plan on leaving this island until I’ve had you in each and every one of them.”

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

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stevenose · 8 months

Text

𝖘𝖚𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 (18+)

kinktober: vampire!steve edition

summary: what’s so wrong with exploring the abandoned chapel in your hometown’s haunted forest?

contains: gender unspecified reader; body worship; predator/prey; virgin!reader; biting/licking; edging; desperation; heavy make outs; praise; pain/pleasure

words: 5.9k

a/n: this is not accurate to any vampire folklore. i wrote what worked for this horny little story... though there is some inspo from 'interview with a vampire'. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

“And what are you doing this weekend?”

You shrug, leaning into Robin on your right. The green couch below you is old and weak, and you both sink down into it. A little get together goes on around you - everyone’s either drinking, smoking, or watching Eddie play the guitar. It’s a little loud, a little annoying, and you can tell that Steve, sitting across from you on a much better couch, is brooding. Your eyes meet his, coffee colored and annoyed, and you smile in acknowledgment before you look back to Robin.

“I’m not totally sure. I was thinking of going to that abandoned Chapel out past Skull Rock?”

Robin elbows you just as Steve sits up and leans towards you, his elbows on his knees. He looks a little stunned, as does Robin.

“What?” you ask.

��Haven’t you heard the stories?” Robin asks, turning her body towards you and sitting criss-cross on the couch. “Why would you want to go out there?”

You feel scolded. “I don’t know,” you reply, trying to laugh it off. You look at Steve in your peripheral to see if he’s on your side before refocusing on Robin. “You know I’m a sucker for Victorian architecture, and it has really gorgeous stained glass -”

“Don’t you know what else it has?”

Now you roll your eyes as you turn to face him. He looks so serious, eyebrows slightly raised like he’s trying to say you know better. “Oh, what, Steve? Vampires?”

Now he rolls his eyes at you, leaning back into the couch and crossing his muscular arms. You aren’t unaware of the way his sweater hugs them. “No,” he scoffs. “The place is totally falling apart. It’s not even anything to look at anymore. You’ll probably get hurt and it’s at least a three mile walk from the nearest house. I promise it’s not worth it.”

You perk up. “So you’ve been there?”

“I - well, y-yes.”

“Oh, so you can take me?” you grin.

“When have you ever been there?” Robin asks, brows furrowed. Many times, they talk to each other like no one else is in the room.

“Not now,” he snips.

“You take a girl out there or something?” you laugh, trying to cut the awkward tension as Robin and Steve glare at each other across the room.

“Take a girl where?”

Eddie Munson has materialized, squeezing himself in between you and Robin. He throws his arms around you both, pulling Robin into him face first and you cheek into his shoulder. Robin shoves him away, making you both nearly fall over.

“That old Chapel in the woods,” you giggle, Eddie pulling you upright. “You know it, don’t you?”

“That place?” Eddie suddenly gets serious, sitting upright and looking at you with wide eyes. “That place isn’t safe for a little thing like you.”

“Thank you!” Steve says, throwing his hands out relaxing back.

You deflate. “Whatever, Eddie, you probably lost your virginity there or something.”

“Not quite,” he says quietly. You have to lean in to hear him. “One time, a few years ago, we tried to have a DND game there. Really set the scene for our campaign, you know?”

He pushes off the couch and starts pacing. Steve knows he’s bullshitting now and rolls his cocoa eyes, but you and Robin and other people around perk up to listen to him.

“We got everything ready. Candles, rugs… a joint for me. It was a cold November night, just after Halloween, and a full moon. And something just. Didn’t. Seem. Right. It was so quiet, you could hear the end of my joint burning. Our voices felt too loud. Even I started to get nervous. But we all brushed it off, thinking we were being influenced by the stories. Until….”

Eddie pauses for dramatic effect. A hush falls over the house. His lips twitch upwards.

“CRASH!”

Everyone jumps, save for Steve, who sits perfectly still in his seat.

“A deer came barreling in through one of the stained glass windows. And it fell. Dead. On the cold wooden floor. And when we went to check it out, it was covered in… what I could only describe as….” His voice turns low and even more quiet. “Bite marks.”

“Bite marks?” you repeat.

“Bite marks!” he sneers. “But these weren’t any normal bite marks. No… they were in pairs… two puncture wounds each… like fangs.”

Steve begins laughing, breaking the mystic tension in the room. Eddie deflates and turns on his heel, pointing an accusatory finger in Steve’s handsome face. “It’s against bro-code to ruin my stories, man!”

“So you really think it has a vampire haunting it?” Steve chuckles, batting Eddie’s thin finger out of his face.

“All I’m saying is,” Eddie says, turning slowly back to look at you. “You’d better take garlic with you when you go.”

===

“You’re not going.”

You and Steve stand on the porch, shivering in the cold. He insisted on driving you home, though you’re now certain it’s just so he can lecture you. You try to avoid that route.

“I’m not going alone,” you correct. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going with you, either. It's off limits.”

You sigh, shoving your fists into your jacket pockets while you watch Steve light a cigarette. The flame makes his face glow for just a moment before it goes out and he puts the lighter back into his own pocket. His eyes are dark and brooding as he stares down the length of his cigarette at you. “Off limits,” he repeats.

“I’m going whether you want me to or not. You can come with me - be my guide and my bodyguard and all that. Since you’re so acquainted with the place.”

Steve continues to stare, squinting at you a little. You stare back, unwavering. He sighs out a cloud of smoke into your face and you force yourself not to wince. “If we go,” he begins, “we go when I say and you stay by me the entire time. You aren’t touching shit, got it? All the trash and broken glass could get you hurt, easy. No exceptions.”

You’re confused with why he seems so cagey about the place, and why there has been such an emphasis on you being hurt. “Are you actually scared of this place?”

“No,” he scoffs, shaking his head and ashing his cigarette. “Just worried about you, that’s all.”

Your face heats up and you have to look away from his intense amber eyes. “Okay,” you whisper. “I agree to the terms.”

Steve smiles a little. “Okay. Two o’clock on Wednesday.”

“In the morning?”

“The afternoon!” He looks at you like you’re crazy. “We aren’t going at night.”

“Well, that’s not fun.”

“It isn’t supposed to be fun. You just want to see the ‘architecture’, don’t you?”

You huff. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeats. “Now, let me take you home.”

===

Leaves crunch loudly under your boots. It cuts off the sound of your heavy breathing. Steve doesn’t seem to use the same amount of exertion, trapezing through the cold woods with ease. His big hands are shoved deep in the pockets of a blue Member’s Only jacket, one he likes to wear during the colder months.

“Should’ve worn a thicker sweater,” he observes, and moves in closer when he sees you shivering. “Want my jacket?”

“Can you stop daddying me for two seconds?”

“Is that a word?”

You bump into him hard, making him lose his footing. He smiles and bumps back into you, catching your arm when you nearly topple over. Things with Steve can be so easy sometimes. And other times, he’s a stressed, seemingly brooding man with an affinity for one night stands and cheap beer. His hand is cold on your arm, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean into him, walking in tandem.

“You make your dates walk all this way?”

“What’s more romantic than a walk?”

“Anything else?”

“I think you’re just high maintenance,” he says with a smirk, looking straight ahead at the orange and yellow leaves hanging limply from their branches and bunching on the ground.

“Don’t you take an hour to do your hair every morning?”

“That’s - that is not the same.”

“Sure.” You look up at him and beam and he finally steals a glance down at you. He smiles back, soft for a moment, before facing forward again.

“I don’t understand why you want to go to some trashed building in the middle of the woods.”

“I’ve seen old pictures at the Historic Society. It used to be so nice - I wonder why people stopped going?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Probably the vampires.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to believe in hocus pocus.”

“You must not know me well enough, then.”

“I’d like to,” you say before you can think better of it. “I mean - it’s just - we only ever really hang out with other people. I only know you - you know. Not as much as I know Robin.”

He’s quiet. Your heart drops down to your stomach. You eventually open your mouth, looking to change the subject, but Steve finally speaks.

“Maybe we’ll just have to come out here together more often, huh?”

Your heart’s in your throat now, bringing a glowing heat up to your cheeks. You hug your arms a little tighter to you, thinking of something cute and witty to say, but Steve points ahead. “Up there. See?”

You have to squint, but through the red and gold maple leaves you see a tower extending upwards into the November sky. “Oh, wow. That didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

“We’ve been walking for an hour,” Steve huffs.

“You’re used to physical exertion, aren’t you?”

The chapel is a small, nearly unimpressive thing. The highlight, the reason why you came, are the tall stained glass windows that adorn all sides except the front. Each one depicts - well, depicted - a scene from the crucifixion. Many of the windows are now busted out, though, save for two. Excitement shoots up from your chest to your lips and you beam broadly at Steve. “Look! God, it’s gorgeous. Do you know how long this must have taken? Such a shame it’s been busted out like this.”

“Sure,” he says simply. But he isn’t paying much attention to you. His eyes are scanning the woods and he seems more on-edge and agitated than usual.

“What?” you ask, bumping into him. “You scared? Did you forget your holy water?”

He rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t work, anyway,” he mutters.

“Oh, so you know?”

“I’m just saying,” he says quickly. “Whatever. I’m not worried about things that don’t exist. There are bobcats out here, and -“

“And bats,” you beam, wagging your fingers in his face. “Really scary stuff at three in the afternoon, Steve.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll just let it eat you.”

“Sounds fun.” You step towards the door of the chapel, wooden and splintered.

“W-wait,” Steve interrupts. “Can’t we just look out here?”

“No! We didn’t walk all this way to stand outside.”

“You said it wasn’t even that long!”

“Whatever, Steve,” you huff, walking again. He’s hot on your heels, stuttering excuses in vain. You still throw open the door, revealing a beautiful, one room interior. The back, where you stand, still has several rows of red pews, but beyond the sixth row is nothing but an expansive hardwood floor and trash. The front of the room holds a podium that’s been knocked over, and a strong, sturdy wooden table that still stands. It must be bolted to the floor. A deep, purple velvet cloth rests over it. It looks pristine, which gives you pause.

“It looks like someone’s been here,” you mumble, taking another step.

“So maybe we should leave.” Steve’s hand is gentle on your arm, and you’re quick to shrug out of it.

The floor is littered with broken bits of stained glass. You know immediately that you’ll grab a piece as a souvenir. “Steve,” you sigh, turning to face him. “Ten minutes. Just ten minutes and we can leave.”

“Ten minutes,” he repeats. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, pulling the sleeves of his shirt taught across his shoulders. He leans against the doorframe, illuminated from behind by the daylight. If he wasn’t so brooding he might look like an angel. “You promise?”

You extend a pinky, which he takes reluctantly. You squeeze it and turn back around, but his eyes still bore into your back.

“I’ll go stand watch. But whatever you do, don’t touch anything.”

“Fine, Steve,” you sigh, eyes roaming the expanse of the dilapidated chapel. A beam of sunshine makes the room shine and twinkle. You’re evidently not paying attention to him.

“I’m serious,” he says, stepping towards you and taking your wrist softly in his hand. You look at him now, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, and maybe a bit of panic. “Don’t get hurt.”

Your eyes widen slightly, fixed on his. “I won’t,” you promise softly.

He holds on to you for a few long seconds before finally unhanding you. He glances over you one more time before nodding and stepping outside.

You didn’t know you were holding your breath, but you finally exhale. His bizarre behavior puts up some red flags, but Steve can be an anxious, overbearing person in general. Even at the mall. You decide to grill him about it later and begin your exploration of the building.

You’re quick to notice a large red stain towards the front of the room. Is this where the deer came in and scared Eddie? And it must be, considering the ashtray on the floor. No joint, however - he must have taken it with him. There’s no carcass, either, just a large rotting stain. You don’t bother to think about it too much, though, especially since it was clear that other people had been here recently. Perhaps they’d cleared it out, or used it as a sacrifice in a ritual. Maybe that’s what Steve is worried about - cults and rituals, getting caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It’s pretty clear he hasn’t taken any dates here. You wonder how he knew it was dangerous.

A blue glint catches your eye on the other side of the room. This side seems a bit more clean, but glass riddles the space. You move towards it and stare in awe at the colors. Royal blue, magenta, bright gold, luscious greens. You know Steve told you not to touch, but you can’t help yourself.

Your hand reaches out, fingertips caressing a fragment of glass. It’s ornate, stained with green and pink and blue in what must have been la pieta - the Virgin Mary holding Jesus in her arms and weeping. You pick up the piece, looking around the room for Steve quickly, before holding it closer. You wish he was beside you, though you know he’d be pissed with you. You’d elaborate on the process, wonder aloud who had the craftsmanship in Hawkins to create something like this. Maybe have a real conversation with him, get him to lighten up.

A sudden crunch behind you makes you jump, clutching the glass into your palm in an attempt to conceal it. You immediately realize your mistake as the glass cuts harshly into your skin, slicing you open. You turn around, eyes squinting and brows furrowing in pain. You’re relieved it’s Steve for one fleeting moment until he recognizes the pain on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, stepping towards you in long strides.

“Don’t,” you whine, taking a step back. You’d rather avoid another lecture. But Steve meets you, takes your hand away from his chest and stares wide-eyed at the amount of blood pouring from your palm.

The atmosphere in the room shifts.

Steve’s eyes grow dark as he stares at your hand, unfurling it slowly. The shard of glass falls to the floor with a soft clink. He licks his lips and blinks. “Wh- what did you do?”

“You scared me,” you whisper. And he’s scaring you now, just a little, with the way he’s looking at you.

Has it really been ten minutes?

Steve takes a deep breath, his clavicles caving in. He looks conflicted, dark brows twitching together, mouth opening and closing.

“Steve.” Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, pain forgotten as you look at him. “I-I’m sorry.”

He swallows and blinks hard before his eyes flit up to yours. You’re knocked breathless by the look he gives you. Eyes narrowed and dark, his lips plush as he licks them again.

He looks at you like you’re prey.

“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly. His thumb swipes over your cut and you gasp.

“Yes.” He’s so mesmerizing. You forget yourself.

His jaw clenches and unclenches. “Let me help.”

You’re confused. Steve didn’t bring an entire first-aid kit with him. You’re more confused when he lifts your hand to his face. And you’re certainly bewildered when his tongue darts out to flick across the cut.

Instead of the pain you expect, his tongue soothes you. You watch in shock as Steve’s eyes drift shut, a small moan slipping past his lips as he greedily licks up your blood. Your blood. If you truly believed in the things you’ve been joking about - vampires - you’d run away screaming. Instead, you’re just perplexed. Especially with how his mouth seems to heal you. You watch with blown pupils as his lips wrap around your fingers to suck the remnants of blood off of them. Your middle finger leaves his lips with a soft pop and his eyes slowly open. They seem less brown and more maroon now, though it may just be the shadows.

You force your eyes away from his to look at your hand. It’s cleaner, certainly. Less bloody. But the wound is still there, even if it doesn’t hurt. You look back up at Steve, slowly licking his fingers clean of your blood.

You don’t know what to say, and it seems he doesn’t, either. It’s such a dramatic shift from who he was five minutes ago. Instead of anxious and fidgety, Steve’s confident, standing tall. He seems amused, not scared. He isn’t even lecturing you. And he’s always handsome, but now - it’s astonishing. As if he’s suddenly grown into himself.

With his tongue off of you, the pain gone, you’re now acutely aware of the ache between your thighs. Steve suddenly chuckles, and his teeth - his canines look much more pronounced, pointy.

“Did that feel good?”

His tone makes your legs squeeze a little closer together. Your mouth parts slightly and you nod in response. He smiles, predatory.

You’re not afraid of him. It’s just Steve.

He lifts your hand again, examining it, his finger tracing the thin trail of blood leaking from it.

“It looks so painful,” he whispers, before looking back into your eyes. “How about I take your mind off of it?”

As if in a trance, you nod. His tongue had felt pleasurable on your open skin. Tingly, warm pleasure that shot straight down into your lower stomach. You want more of that. You want more of Steve. You want it so bad your mind is clouded with it. He’s the only thing that matters. You can’t even remember why you came here in the first place, the ornate glass long forgotten.

Steve closes the gap between you, but he doesn’t kiss you. His head instead angles sideways, and he brushes his lips up against your neck. His touch feels electric. Your hands grab for him, your cut sharp and painful as you tug at his black sweater. He presses a gentle kiss to your skin before his teeth scrape the flesh, cutting you open. The pain makes you gasp and keen, your hands losing purchase on him - and then in a fluid motion, he licks your sore, and your eyes roll back in rapture.

“See?” he whispers, pressing his lips against your ear. You can smell the metallic tang of blood on them. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

You nod, holding him to you.

“Is this what you wanted?” His lips trail back down your neck, teeth grazing at another sensitive spot until they catch on the skin. He makes you bask in the pain for a moment before finally flicking his tongue against you. He moans, his hands traveling down to grip your hips and hold you to him. “This why you wouldn’t listen to me?” Steve sucks at the puncture harshly, forcing you to cry out. His words, his actions, it all makes you dizzy and horny.

“So - you?” you rasp, eyes falling shut when his tongue soothes the pain again. “You were protecting me from you?”

“These are my hunting grounds, honey," he says lowly. "Eddie's a great storyteller, isn't he?"

Oh.

"I tried to stop you. I knew this would happen,” he continues, pulling back for a moment to look at you. “Know how accident prone you are. Knew you’d get hurt. And I knew I couldn’t stop myself."

You gasp quietly. You search his eyes. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’ve got such sweet blood, but I can feed in other ways.” He smiles. “Why do you think I fuck so often? I can feed on sexual release, too. Lust, desire… and I‘ll admit, this isn’t the first time I’ve fed on you.”

Your brows raise. Before you can question him further, his lips kiss down your jaw and to your collarbones. “Yeah,” he mumbles, cold hands moving under your shirt. “Knew you’d get yourself into trouble.” His teeth pierce your clavicle and you moan in pain. “And with how goddamn cute you are, all that teasing in the woods… could hardly keep myself off of you then.” His nose presses against your wound and he inhaled the blood deeply. “Y’smell so fucking delicious.”

His tongue licks you clean as your knees shake. You’re at a loss. So confused and horny and needy. You gasp and keen against him, hands tangling in his shirt and staining it with your blood.

“Are you scared?”

You whimper and shake your head. “No.”

He sighs with relief. “I’m so hungry. It’s been a while since I fed last. And you - you’re such a perfect victim for me, aren’t you? So willing for me, y’want me so bad. Don’t you?” His tongue licks a broad stripe across your neck before you can say anything. As you’re lost in that white-hotpleasure, he pulls you down onto the floor, tugging you into his lap. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

You do. Steve’s cock pulses through his jeans, thick and long. You feel it against you, right where you need him, and your eyes roll back. Before you can think better of it, your hips rock against his. He makes a sinful noise - something between a groan and a growl - and presses his lips to yours.

Your mind goes blank. It’s all just Steve. Steve, and his lips, and his tongue against yours. His cock straining under you. Every heartbeat makes you feel hornier, makes you pulse with need and desire. He tastes like blood. Your blood. And something sweet, too. He smells like pine and tobacco. He’s enveloping all of your senses, engulfing you in him and only him.

His teeth stab your tongue now. You cry out, but just as quick, he sucks it into ecstasy. “So good,” he praises under his breath, before his teeth bite into your bottom lip. He sucks it into his mouth, too, swiping his tongue over the raw skin. Steve’s hands move up and down your sides until he manages to squeeze them underneath your shirt. His skin is freezing against yours, and you shiver and grind on him harder. He bites you again, harder than ever, and you cry out.

Steve pulls back to watch you with blown pupils, his mouth bloody - but not as bloody as your own. You’re speechless on his lap, overwhelmed. Your lip is on fire, like it’s been stabbed with a hot knife. Thick, crimson blood pours down your chin and onto your neck. He lets it drip, let’s you writhe before he licks it up with a broad stroke.

“Please,” you beg softly. You let your fingers dig into his broad shoulders. The pain is beginning to spread into your cheeks and jaw. “Steve, please, it hurts.”

“Patient,” he mumbles. “Just be patient.”

But it’s so hard. Tears prick at your waterline, and your body stiffens. Steve grinds his hips up to stimulate you again, but it’s such a temporary relief. You wonder if he’s trying to turn you, and you panic, moving your hands away from him and towards your mouth. He catches your wrists in his big hands and finally kisses you again. The relief is immediate and stunning. Waves of pleasure crash through every single part of you, from your head down to your toes. You shake, thighs parting and grinding to prolong your pleasure. Your eyes roll and you moan into his mouth, relaxing your hands in his grip.

“I can smell your cum,” he muses, pulling away with a pink-tinged string of saliva connecting you. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

“Do you like me?” you ask suddenly, earnestly.

It knocks the breath out of him. “More than I’d like to admit.”

“Then - mmph - why d-didn’t you do something?”

“I don’t want to do this to you. Hurt you.”

“You’re not -“

“I’m rough, and you’re inexperienced.”

Your cheeks burn. “Th- that’s not true.”

Steve tips you backwards onto your back. You’re lucky to not fall on glass, but the floor is still dirty and gritty beneath you. Not that it would matter if you got hurt, anyway. Steve climbs on top of you, glaring, so intense you feel breathless.

“Don’t think I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Your heavy breaths fill in the pause. “Know what?”

“That you’ve never been touched before.”

You have no clue how he knows that. It’s not information you readily give out, nor is it something you’re ashamed of. But you’re sure you’ve never discussed this with him. Your eyes are wild and unfocused as you search his face for an explanation.

“Virgins taste different.”

Your face heats more, chest blooming with fire. “I-is that bad?”

“Bad?” he scoffs, leaning towards your lips again. “I could eat you up.”

His lips are soft and surprisingly warm. You wonder how it’s possible - is he warming up from drinking your blood? And the feeling of them once again knocks you out, makes you impervious to the outside world. Your hands tangle in his golden brown hair and he groans when you tug at it. Steve shoves a knee between your legs for you to grind on again while his hands trail back up your shirt. His fingers pinch and pull at your nipples. Your cries echo in the ancient chapel, a hint of sun pouring in.

Steve trails his soft lips down your neck again, but he doesn’t bite. Instead, he kisses and licks at you while his fingertips glide over your stomach. “Your shirt,” he whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Can I take it off?”

“Please.” You sigh in relief when he does. The room is cold but you’re so hot from his ministrations that it feels good. Steve bends down and moves his lips to your chest immediately. You laugh breathlessly. “A-always heard you w-were a tits guy.”

Steve smiles, then bites down. His incisors catch on your nipple, easily the most sensitive part of you he’s touched so far, and you grind harshly on his perched knee. “Steve!” you moan, twisting in agony as he lets you bleed before he wraps his lips around your nipple. You’re sent into mind melting bliss, to the point that you truly can’t take it anymore. Tears gather at your waterline and a moan is punched out of you.

“Both,” you sob, tugging at his hair. You feel crazy for it, for him. For his mouth to hurt and heal you where you feel pleasure most. “Both ‘f ‘em, please, Steve.”

“You’re so good,” he whispers, trailing his lips towards your other pec. “You take it all so well. So eager. Wish I knew….”

“Shit!” you shout, back arching off the ground - he’s bit hard into your nipple, a sharp pain that makes your blood run cold. And in the next instant he soothes it with his tongue, sucking on the swollen bud and pulling the pain and blood right out of it.

“Need to touch you,” he says urgently, hands moving to your pants. You lift your hips but he still asks, “Can I?”

“Fuck me,” you beg, spreading your legs and lifting your hips higher for him to get the hint.

He frowns. “Honey.” His fingers shake as he unzips your jeans.

“I need to feel your cock,” you moan. You do, so badly. To feel it split you open, for him to soothe the hurt back out of you before fucking it into you again. For him to be overwhelmingly apart of you.

“Honey,” he repeats, quickly shucking your pants down your thighs. “I’m not going to be your first time.”

“Why?”

He blinks, frowning still. His sadness is clear. “You shouldn’t have a monster as your first.”

He kisses you before you can protest, a hand moving between your bodies to touch you where you need him. You gasp, allowing Steve to slip his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own bitterness, but Steve’s hand distracts you from it. He’s as well versed as you always heard, as you’ve always been so jealous of. He doesn’t even have to look to know where you need him. You wonder if he can just tell where to go, the same way he can tell you’re a virgin.

“Do you want me?” he says, pulling back, lips glossy. His fingers touch a certain spot that makes your eyes roll. “Do you trust me to make you feel good?”

Your head lolls. “Please, Steve.”

“Shit,” he hisses, mouthing at your neck. “I’m fucked. I’m so fucked, sweetheart. Shouldn’t have brought you here, couldn’t help myself….”

“Did you w-want this to happen?”

Steve doesn’t have an answer. Or he can’t answer.

“I want you,” he groans. His fingers twist and rub. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I… in every way. Your mind, your body, your soul.”

It makes you shiver. “Take me.”

Steve sighs, teeth grazing against your pulse point before he pulls away and trains his attention on his hand. On the slickness between your thighs that grows with each stroke. He swallows you, greedily, eyes widening to take in your twisting body. He can feel himself growing stronger, more energized and focused. The more your lust grows, the more powerful he is. And the more your lust is present, the longer it takes, the more he can feed.

Steve isn’t self serving, but it’s been a while since he’s had his energy repleted. And Sherilyn Perry had been a quick, boring fuck that lasted fifteen minutes in his bedroom. This - this is different. It’s so much stronger, his adoration for you on a nearly unholy level. And your virginity adds fuel to the fire burning in his veins. He feels better than he has in years, watching you fall apart under him. So he’s not selfish, he’s just… hungry.

He’s good at keeping you on the edge for him. His thick fingers explore you before he rescinds them. He gives you a few moments to catch your breath, staring down at you with blown pupils and a blush before sending you into the throes of pleasure again.

The only thing you can comprehend is Steve.

You’re once more in a trance. How could you possibly come back from this? With the way Steve looks at you? With the way he’s gentle and loving, how his fingers curl - does he feel the same? Is he as drunk on you with his crimson lips and garnet eyes? You moan as his fingers and, heart beating quick and hard. He leans forward again to bite down on your nipple, lapping the pain away after. Long, languid strokes of his fingers have you clenching and pulsing.

Steve can feel a pressure building throughout his body but resting heavily in his lower stomach. His cock twitches and pulses, begging to be buried inside of you. Steve’s true to his word, though. He refuses to ruin a pretty thing like you, to take away the intimacy of your first time. As much as he’d love to be the guy to be your first everything, he’s firmly convinced you deserve better. A human. A man you could grow old with. He yearns to be that so much it makes him sick. He forces himself to stop thinking about it and instead gives in to his peak.

“Give it to me,” he whispers, “feed me, honey. Let me see that gorgeous face when you cum…”

Let me be the first.

“St-eve,” you choke out, going rigid under him as the string between your stomach and thighs grows taut. It snaps, sending your body keening and trembling, your voice crying out. Steve’s eyes roll back as much as he’s trying to keep them on you. His own orgasm takes over, ruining (another) completely good pair of Levis, a life-force entering his body and punching out a climax. It makes his body shake and stretch. He doesn’t mean to bite down so hard on your neck while he ruts his clothed cock against the hand working on you.

Steve could keep you in that state as long as he wanted. An endless orgasm as long as he deemed fit, feeding on you until he’s taken you for everything you have. In pain and suffering from a bite. And you’d be happy to have it. But Steve is nothing if not a gentleman - so he soon withdraws his hand and licks gently at the last bite he’s left on you.

You still shake, even after Steve has pulled away. The exhaustion and bliss is overwhelming. Steve lays on top of you, caressing your cheek and frowning down at you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, just breathe for me. You’re okay, I promise.”

You nod weakly, weakly tugging him into you. “Y’r okay, too?”

He chuckles. “Uh-huh. I’m okay. I’m here.”

Your eyes drift shut. Steve watches with a smile, taking in every single inch of you that he can see. You suddenly tilt your head up and pout.

A kiss.

This somehow seems more intimate. You’re not in the process of fucking. It isn't the heat of the moment. You only earnestly crave his affection. And while he knows he shouldn’t if he doesn’t want this to happen again, he leans forward and presses his lips softly to yours.

“Does this make me yours?” you whisper when he pulls away. Your eyes stay closed.

Something fierce and unnatural tugs at Steve’s stomach. He’s never felt like he owns anyone he feeds from. He’s happy to send them on their way, blissed out and wondering why he doesn’t use his mouth on them. Now, though, the idea of owning you makes him feel something visceral. He doesn’t - he can’t - but his eyes grow dark as he looks down at your dozing figure.

“Mine,” he tries. The sound of it makes his skin crawl.

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve harrington smut #kinktober 2023

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renren-006 · 2 months

Text

Sunshine Optimist | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: you were sunshine and he was scared of getting burned.

word count: 1305

a/n: heyyyy here is another daryl story hope you enjoy!

Daryl was always jealous of your optimism, the way you constantly thought things would get better or that the world wasn't as screwed up as it seemed.

Every time the group had a bump in the road, you were there, telling everyone that things would turn around; most of the time, you were right, and when you were wrong, Daryl was the only one to remind you of it. You liked him and never let his words hurt you too much, not when you knew he was just hurting. Daryl didn't let many people in, including you, but when he did, you knew it was because of your optimism that he did.

You were like sunshine in his eyes, and he was afraid of getting burned.

You thought he was like the night sky, dark, but with a few shining stars, the dark wasn't that intimidating.

The prison was the first shining star in Daryl's world. He hated that he believed your optimism then and loved that you were right. He grumbled about it to Carol so often that the woman would just laugh and shoo him away to go figure out his feelings. Daryl knew he liked you, you made his world light up, and he also knew he could never tell you. He did the only thing he knew how to do when he had feelings: push them and you away so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

That only made things worse for him.

You knew he pushed you away, you could feel it and see that whatever he was feeling scared the shit out of him. Rick even tried to comfort you about it.

“He's scared,” Rick said as he walked up beside you. You were standing on the gravel road watching him ride off on his motorcycle after another failed conversation with the man. Rick put a hand on your shoulder. “He's…not good with his feelings”

“I know. Just wish he would talk to me.” You told the older man. “I like him but sometimes it hurts too.”

“Sometimes love hurts”

“That's not helping this situation Rick” you told him sarcastically.

“I know. I'm sorry. Daryl…he's like a deer, startle him and he’ll run”

“That's probably the best way to describe him,” you said laughing. Rick smiled, patted your soldier, and walked back to helping the others with walker controle.

Daryl kept burying his feelings for you, deep, deep down. He felt his skin burn when he was near you, so he never put himself in that situation. That never worked because you would seek him out more than he wanted you to. It took 6 months of being in the Prison before something happened that forced him to feel what he was trying not to.

You joined Daryl, Michonne, and a few of the new people at the Prison on the run. You rode with Michonne in the pickup truck while the others tagged behind. Daryl rode beside the truck, failing at not watching you in the passenger seat. You knew he was watching, knew you wanted to be on that motorcycle with him, but knew you needed to let him come to you.

Once you arrived at the store a few miles from the prison and looked to have not been raided, you all made your way inside. The building was dark and muggy, and it sounded like a few employees didn't make it. You took care of the ones on your side of the store. Daryl closes behind, keeping an eye out. You glanced around before motioning to Daryl to hand you one of the bags to start filling. You got about halfway down the aisle when a Walker jumped you out of nowhere. He didn't bite you, but shit, he scared you.

“Fuck” you cursed as the walked pushed you back twords the wall, making you knife fummble out of your handsat the supprise. Daryl jumped into action shoving the walker off you and killing it before it could get a taste of skin. Daryl jumped back over to you looking over every inch of skin.

“He didn't get me. He didn't get me. Im fine” you told him, repeating the phrase over and over till he looked you in the eyes. “Daryl, im fine”

“You ain’t comin’ out ‘ere again” he said seriously, “No more runs”

“You can't bench me Daryl” you told him turning from fright to anger.

“Hell I can” he said back.

“No. I'm not yours, Daryl. You have made that very clear. You can't come back and act like you care,” you said angrily, letting all those pent-up months of feeling like nothing to Daryl out. He stared at you blankly, realizing how horrible he must have made you feel, always shoving you away.

“I….” Daryl started, wanting to scream at himself for what he had done.

“No. Im done” you told him pushing the man off you, “i'm going over there, stay the hell away Daryl”

Daryl stared blankly at where your body had previously been before you walked off, grabbed your knife, and continued on to the next row, far away from him. For the rest of that run, you stayed away, walking to another aisle whenever he tried to keep close. Michonne picked up on the energy shift between you, too, without having to say anything.

“If she doesn't want you around Daryl, it's because you pushed her so far to do so” she told him.he nodded back, knowing it was his fault and that he caused it. “You have to fix it. No more shoving her away”

“I know”

“Good. Now get back to work, we leave in thirty” Michone said.

That night Daryl found you at your guard tower sitting outside watching the stars. He knocked on the window on the corner wall by you. Glancing over you raised it was him, you rolled your eyes.

“I thought i said to stay the hell away Daryl” you said, a bit of venom dripped in your voice. Something Daryl had never heard from you.

“I know, Im sorry”

“Sorry isn't going to cut it” You told him, “For months you have pushed me away, made me feel worthless to you and I pushed through but you have no right…”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off. “I was afraid of getting’ hurt y/n”

“Hurt?”

“yer sunshine and I'm…”

“A starry night,” you told him. Holding his gaze. “You're like the stars in the night sky, bright enough to make the darkness not so scary. I always thought you were, but then you changed.”

“I…I couldn't stand yer optimism” he said, “ya made me feel…”

“Made you feel what”

“Like my heart was gonna explode” he said, crouching down by you, “yur makin me feel optimistic about the world”

“I like having that effect on people” you told him, “I like having an affect on you”

“Ya do” he said, “Ya make me feel happy like I haven't been in a while”

“Good” you said and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. You pulled away from him, “Tell me your sorry again”

“I'm sorry Y/N” he said, the husky voice of the redneck sent shivers down your spine.

“And that you won't ever push me away like you did”

“I promise,” he said, smiling at the way you were making him tell you what you already knew was true. You pulled the man back and kissed him deeply. He pulled you closer to him, picked you up, and carried you into your tower. The sounds and moans that escaped your guard tower that night were heard across the starry sky, which seemed to smile down towards the Prison.

#daryl dixion #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader

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growup-thatbeautiful · 10 months

Note

Can I get asking gym crush!Dave Lizewski to spot you and needing his help. I think that could spark a beautiful romance

a:n: yes of course!! if anyone wants more of this idea definitely give me any thoughts. college aged dave :)

It's embarrassing. You don't even know his name, and you've never once talked to him. Sometimes he comes in with his friends- two of them- but you haven't caught any information about him besides his frankly impressive workout routine. And it's not like you see him a lot; he comes here way less than you. Yet somehow he seems to be stronger than most other regulars at the gym.

It’s probably for the best that you don’t see him a lot, though. Because when he is there, you find it hard to focus on anything except for him. Everywhere you look he seems to be there in the corner of your eye or in the glimpse of the mirrored wall.

It's unfair, really. No one should be able to look that good while covered in sweat, his curls sticking up in every direction and matted to the back of his neck. The compression shirt that he's wearing is dark with sweat, but his expression doesn't look fazed at all.

Today, though, you're determined for it to be different. You have a few more reps you want to do at the machine, then your plan is to go to the bar and do squats. Then you have your usual cool-down mile and stretching routine. Distractions don't fit into your schedule, especially because you’re already bone-tired today.

You do the last rep, timing your breath in and out to your movement. There's a pleasant, constant tiredness in your legs that you’ve come to love, and the music blasting in your ears pushes you towards your next exercise.

Luckily, the bar is open and you’re able to start your set right away. Maybe it's because you're still a little bit sore from your last leg day, or maybe you're just not feeling it today, but it feels harder than usual. By the third set, your legs are shaking much more than usual and you’re having trouble getting through the reps.

It’s definitely not your smartest decision ever to keep going, but you really don’t to stop early. Some part of you thinks that you can just push through and make it; the reasonable part of you is saying that you’re going to need someone to spot you.

Looking around, you don’t see anyone you know- no friends or friends of a friend. It’s relatively empty for the time of day, but you need to ask someone to spot you.

And in the opposite corner of the gym, there he is. He’s not doing any reps, and from the way he’s checking his phone you don’t think that he’s in the middle of any.

You try to tell yourself that everyone else is busy and he’s the only option, but you know it’s not true. Even if he was busy, you would wait for him to finish and ask him anyways. There’s no telling when you’re going to have another opportunity like this to talk to him- at least you have an excuse to go up to him.

If your legs weren’t already shaking, they are as you walk over towards him. It’s a sin, for him to look at good as he does without really doing anything at all. Your own music blasting through one of your dangling earbuds isn’t enough to calm your nerves. He’s wearing headphones too, so he can’t hear you coming, and he seems immersed in whatever he’s doing, so you stand there awkwardly while he finishes. When he looks up at you, a smile makes its way across his face, and he holds out his hand for you to shake it, not caring about the obvious sweat.

You tell him your name and shake him hand, your stomach doing flips the whole time.

He, in turn, introduces himself. “I’m Dave. Do you need something?” He says it with a pleasant tone, but he must think that he’s been rude because he backtracks immediately. “Shit, that sounded rude, sorry. I just- people don’t usually come up to me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a laugh. “I actually wanted to ask you if you could spot me. I only have a few sets left.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He looks genuinely excited at your request, and he dutifully follows you to your rack.

You take a deep breath and look at the weights waiting for you. The soreness in your body seems worse now that he’s there standing behind you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you take another breath, it sounds a lot like a sigh. You’re thrilled that he’s willing to help you, but you don’t want him to think you’re weak.

“Hey, you got this,” he says lowly. “I’ve seen you do this a million times before, it’s just another rep, yeah?”

You don’t have the brainpower to think about him saying he’s seen you do this before because all of your thoughts go to his hand on your back, gently urging your forward towards the bar. He doesn’t say anything more, but the message is received.

You step underneath the bar and stand up straight, the bar’s weight settling into your shoulders. You can’t see Dave behind you, but you can feel the heat of his hands underneath your arms as he supports you.

You breathe in. Go down.

Breathe out. Push yourself up.

Do it again. And again 8 more times before stepping forward to rerack the weights.

When you turn around, Dave is looking up at the ceiling, his hands straight down at his sides. You fix your hair and pause your music before taking a sip of water.

“Dave?” you ask. “You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was checking you out,” he explains while he brings his eyes to yours. “M’not gonna be that guy.”

“I appreciate it,” you respond, your heart warming at the sentiment. “Really, I do. But I wouldn’t mind you looking.” It’s not exactly the most subtle hint you’ve ever given a guy, but something tells you that subtle isn’t the right approach with Dave.

“What?” He really looks clueless as to what you’re talking about, his head tilted to the side. Your brain helpfully supplies you with “puppy dog.”

Too subtle, then. “Do you want to get coffee after this?” You’re positive that your smile is uncertain and crooked.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yes, you,” you laugh. “Look, I know you don’t know me, but I’d like to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, too.” The grin on his face is wide and full, bringing light and laugh lines to his eyes. You haven’t seen this smile from him yet, which is probably a good thing because it has a dangerous effect on you. “You have another set left,” he informs you. “So why don’t we finish that up and go get coffee after?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, stepping back underneath the bar, a renewed vigor in your legs. That vigor, of course, goes away when you actually start the last set.

You do the first five without an issue, but you start struggling more with the sixth. By the eighth rep, you’re face is twisted with effort and you can barely get back up.

Dave doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. And his presence is fully reassured to you when he mutters close to your ear, “Come on, just a few more. I’m right here.”

He has to help you with the last rep, his arms supporting you underneath your armpits as he takes some of the weight off and helps you get back the the rack. It forces him much closer to you than before, and you can feel his heart racing against your back. You know yours is beating just as fast.

“Thank you,” you tell him, a little bit out of breath still. “You’re a live-saver.”

A funny look comes across his face at that, but it clears away in a blink. “Anytime.”

“How about that coffee?” you ask, grabbing your keys and water before shooting a quick text to your friends so they know where you’re going. Then, holding out your hand, you say, “It’s the least I can do.”

He takes your hand in between his own, leading you towards his own pile of things. “I know a good place around here.”

“Lead the way,” you tell him.

Maybe asking for his help wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

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i-cant-sing · 11 months

Note

Whispers in your ear like a devil on your shoulder: you should make the Miguel O'Hara scenarios. Think of the hot dad energy he would emanate :))))))

Jokes aside, it is truly up to you what to write and I would always read it, but I am begging on my hands and knees for you to tell us the platonic yandere Miguel O'Hara scenarios you have thought of.

Nooo stooopppp girll- *puts on Miguel's theme music in the background* ahh shit here we go.

Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara as a dad:

Okay, so im just gonna word vomit here and yall make sense of it, but like the first thing that comes to mind when I think about yandere dad Miguel is that him kidnapping daughter reader from a universe where he doesn't exist, so he's technically not breaking canon or whatever and really, it doesnt even matter if you're his bio kid or not, like u could be a literal random civilian but if he is drawn to u, then he is. And while some of yall say "oh come on, Miguel cant be like that. He doesn't make careless/thoughtless decisions like that" I'm sorry, but is this not the same person who had the nerve to step in as his dead self from an AU and sleep with his parallel universe's wife and father someone else's kid??? Granted, they did end up dying but really, the only difference between that decision and this decision to kidnap u is to make sure that u don't end up dyingggg.

Moving on, he kidnaps u, makes up some bs about your life being in danger and blah blah blah, you HAVE to stay by his side, okay??? And at first, reader is like "umm okay?" because who tf wouldnt agree with SPIDERMAN??? (especially one who looks like Miguel? he is already giving dad vibes)

And the thing with Miguel is that he super protective (because PTSD) and he's possessive too, so the only person you're allowed to hang out with is Mayday (she is the cutest, i would die to have a kid like her ngl) because he doesnt see her as a threat (someone who could take u away from him). ABSOLUTELY NO CONTACT with Miles (because he hates that kid, pain in his ass/bane of his existence) and pretty much all other spiderpersons as well because all of them are sarcastic and he does not need them rubbing off on u. The only other person he would trust u with is Peter B, probably when Miguel needs a babysitter (because u learned to mess with his tech-typy-locks and traps, so u need an actual person to keep eyes on u. curse the universe for u being smart like ur papa), and the biggest reason he does trust peter with u is because since peter is a father himself, he would definitely know that while miguel's methods are wrong, in his own way, he is protecting u, and peter b knows that he would do absolutely anything to keep his daughter safe too. Also- since peter has mayday, if he were to actually take u away from Miguel, then Miguel would 10000% kidnap mayday and use her against peter too until he inevitably has to return u to him.

Now Miguel is emotionally crippled due to his trauma, so he's not great at expressing his feelings, at least not when you're awake. When you're asleep, maybe his eyes turn a little softer, maybe he cups your cheek, some guilt and sadness swirling in his eyes when he sees your tear stained cheek (because u missed ur family. or maybe u got told off by Miguel in front of everyone), presses a soft kiss to your forehead and mumbles something in spanish ("you will understand in due time, mi hija.") Definitely has cameras in your room, so he looks at you through the screen and sighs when u flop on the bed and stuff your head in the pillow and start crying, heart slightly heavy with guilt.

Except from interacting with others and leaving the spider society/his apartment (idk where he lives), every need of yours is pretty much taken care of IF you follow his rules. If you behave, u get everything. If u yell at him, try to break out of his place etc, privileges are revoked and BAM, you are now confined to your room with no access to entertainment or any of your hobbies he allowed u to have. Those novels u liked to read? Too bad, they get thrown in the fireplace. Gaming console? Broken in his hands. Liked to cook/bake? No access to kitchen because u are now locked in your room.

Miguel has one important rule- you MUST obey him, under all circumstances, no questions asked. If he tells you to go to your room, honey go before his eyes turn sharp and he has to manhandle you. If he tells you to eat dinner with him, you need to eat food even if you are full. And if he's forbidden you from going to the locked room in his place that's full of info on you and your old fam, then its best for everyone for u to obey.

Now, while Miguel does have trouble expressing emotions (i mean, the most affection he's shown is head pats and if u are really really sad, then yes, smooches on the forehead.) but he has no trouble expressing anger and rage. If u mess up real bad, in the sense where u disobey him and end up hurting yourself (no matter to what degree), GIRL HE IS SCREAMING HIS HEAD OFF AT YOU (like the scene from the movie where he's yelling at miles). I mean, he's so mad, he legit picks you up and hauls you to your room, where he's yelling at u even more, using the terms "child" "kid" and patronising tone because you may think you're a grown up (u might even be) but he will ALWAYS view u as a kid- THE KID he lost, the child he promised to protect and somehow get redemption, or at the very least, fill the empty hole in his heart.

And since nobody thought to inform me that my man Miguel is a literal VAMPIRE and that his fangs are not just for show to attract all kinds of viewrs, we gonna talk about that as well. Does he use them on reader when she finds out that Miguel actually fucking murdered her real fam (maybe not directly kill them, because he is a hero after all. Maybe in the sense that he knew they were gonna die, you would too unless he took u away, he just didnt bother calculating the repercussions if he did indeed save your family.) and reader is now hyperventilating and trying to claw her way out of his arms but muscled arms only pull u tighter against his chest and he just bites ur neck to let the venom paralyse you long enough for him to not only offer an explanation for his actions, but also put a tracker in you and chain u to your bed.

Does Miguel's heart absolutely shatter at your body wracking sobs and distressed state as you realise you have lost your family? Yes. Does he apologise? Never. Does he like seeing you in pain? NO. Will he cause you even more pain? ...yes, if circumstances change.

Hurting you is the last the thing he's do, but its still something he would do. He wont enjoy it, but if u messed up real bad (escaped and endangered yourself) then Miguel, with a very heavy heart will snap your ankles and limit your ability to walk for months (if not for life). This is one of his harshest punishments, and punishments are immeadiately followed with comfort, so Miguel does put your fractured bones in a cast and wipes the tears from his eyes, shushing you gently as he softly explains why he did what he did, how you dont need to worry about anything because since you took your punishment so well, Miguel will help you (he will carry you around everywhere), and maybe if you're in too much pain, he may give you some drugs(or even his venom) to put you to sleep right away.

He has lost too much, too many times. His wounds are deep and still fresh, he is not taking any chances... especially not with you.

okay thats all i have for now(its a lie, i just need to pee) but feel free to send in ur asks/thoughts/scenarios.

#yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #platonic miguel #platonic yandere #yandere spiderverse

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wwouldvecouldveshouldve · 5 months

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confession time!

okay can i tell you how much i adored this request? <33

[ ft. sigma, atsushi, twain, chuuya ]

Sigma... was panicked, to say the least. What if you say no, what if it wasn't perfect like he meant it to be, what if he stumbled over his lines, what if he didn't brush his hair enough this morning (impossible), what if his shirt was ugly (also impossible, he looks gorgeous always)? He's acted this since your first few meetings, but it took some time before the thought came to his mind that he was in love. He didn't even know when or how he could confess! This was an ordeal that, to Sigma, required extraordinary amounts of planning. Every detail had to be perfect, it if wasn't, what if you said no? The thought of confessing, let alone the thought of you, was enough to make his head spin. Sigma hardly even needed a confession, he already trailed after you in his free time like a dog, and always bought you the most expensive things. If that wasn't enough to show how he was head over heels, he went red in the face every other conversation. Needless to say, when he knocks on your door with the cheesiest confession and a bouquet of your favorite flower (no matter how rare), you kiss him.

[ sigma is precious, please cherish him ]

Twain has always been confident. Flirting with you, always acting laid back. Key word: acting. He's had to act calm since the moment he saw the way your eyes shine and he couldn't stop the scarlet from spreading to his cheeks. This man was dying inside. He was not calm, not when you were smiling at him like that. When he finally got the balls to confess, he finally fully buttoned that damns shirt (highly unusual, you were shocked you could make such a thing happen) and shoved his pride up his ass for a minute. He didn't even have it in him to ask someone for advice. He showed off what he could do, and then when you looked to be in enough awe, he tried his best to express his feelings and keep a straight face (no, he did not keep a straight face).

[ you can probably see that i adore bullying this man ]

It was obvious to everyone from the very beginning. He was a young boy who was starting to figure things out in life, and a gorgeous, considerate person like you would obviously attract someone like him. So he followed you around, always offering his aid, time, money, and whatever else you could need. You always made him feel appreciated and seen, what's wrong with returning the favour? Dazai attempted to give him advice on it, but it was really just the entire rest of the agency picking on him. You could see from a mile away how he stuttered, flushed, and stammered when he talked or looked your way. You knew he probably couldn't get the words out of his mouth, so you asked him if you could take a walk on evening and said everything there. He was still speechless, but at least it was said. (He also cried quite a bit, so you tried to buy him ice cream but he finally got the courage to say he'd pay for both of yours <33)

[ you can probably tell by length how much i adore this precious boy ]

Dazai immediately noticed the way Chuuya felt about you. It took a little while for Chuuya to fall for you, however, but once you two were close, it didn't take much for Chuuya to start feeling more than just platonic things. In short, there wasn't one moment when Chuuya realised he loved you, just a piling up of affection. Chuuya tried to show how he felt in any way except for telling you, solely because he believes actions speak more than words. He wouldn't necessarily be stumbling over his sentences, but he'd probably be busy buying you that expensive first edition poetry book (please say you caught that). Chuuya knew that Dazai knew, and whatever "advice" Dazai gave was nothing that Chuuya would actually trust. Chuuya was actually pretty confident he could make you smitten too- he's pulled plenty, trust me. He knocks on your door one night and asks if you'd like to go try out some restaurant (I shouldn't say some restaurant, it's an expensive one that you mentioned wanting to try sometime). He makes the confession on the spot- it's more honest and meaningful that way, he hopes. You accept, and make out later soon after.

AAAA I loved this prompt, I love writing lovestruck and lovesick people. Also Atsushi and Sigma are precious, not in a way that they're clueless or can't handle themselves; they're just perfect. As always, requests are always welcome, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated. Have a wonderful day/night! Love you all <33

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tw1l1te · 2 months

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Ooohh , I just read about the flustered links reacting to showing skin and flirty-ness (it’s great!), but how do you think Legend or Four would react? For some reason I feel like Legend would be really surprised initially and caught off guard, but then get used to it pretty fast. For Four, (going with the concept that he is four people in one) I feel like, from his sides, Red would be flustered, Green would try to act respectfully and avert his gaze, Blue would blush, but would try to not bring attention to it and act normally, and Vio would be 100% unaffected. Meaning that Four is a mess or reactions all at once.

Ugh I'm having so much Legend brainrot rn :>

I feel like Legend is the more suave one in this scenario. He's used to people being flirty with him, sexual innuendos, yada yada. But when it's you that insinuates that? He's smitten, turned on, all of the above.

Four is kinda similar in the sense that he hears sooo much stuff about people's sex lives in the blacksmith shop, like an ungodly amount, so he doesn't really react to it much. The colors internally are wreaking havoc mentally, though.

Here's some scenarios for the two<3

Legend

He was sewing up Wild's tunic after dinner, as the fabric was so full of holes, it was hardly a piece of clothing.

You wandered off to go wash up in the nearby stream

The group setup camp for the night, so everyone was taking inventory of weapons and food and doing whatever hygiene/self care regimes that needed to be done

Mistakingly, however, you grabbed Legend's spare clothes instead of your own. Of course you fucking did.

Your presense was made known with a wolf whistle from Wars, causing Legend to look up from his work, choking on his spit when he noticed what you were wearing.

You were wearing his dark green long tunic and shorts, hair loose from your typical up-do.

Mother of- seeing you wearing his clothes was doing something to him. He felt... hot. His mouth was dry, eyes glued onto your form. The clothes were a bit big on you, your neck and shoulders exposed to him.

"Sorry, I meant to grab my own clothes but it seems like I accidentaly took yours. I can go change-"

"Don't. Please don't."

Oh. Oh. Oh-

A sly smile spread on your lips, Legend already regretting his vocal admittance.

You sit next to him, head on his shoulder. Breathing on to his neck, you whisper "You like me in your clothes don't you? Why don't we see how much you like me without them."

Four

He was hammering away at a sword, sheltered from the downpour outside. The others were in the other room, looking over their materials and planning next steps for their journey

Suddenly the door slams open, you standing thoroughly soaked through from the rain.

"Holy- What were you doing out there?! Get in get in-"

Four quickly places the hot blade somewhere safe so either of you don't get burnt or catch something on fire.

Four runs to the broom closet, grabbing an old blanket to warm you with, coming back to you and bundling you in it, but not before noticing that you had been wearing all white meaning-

Meaning he could see everything

The curve of your chest, the outline of your hips, even your dark green lacy panties that he bought for you a month ago

"I-uh was out doing some errands and somehow took the long way back and I got lost. Also, got caught in the storm, as you can obviously tell.

He clears his throat, trying to avoid gazing downwards, which was done not very subtly at all. He was practically looking at the ceiling.

"-Ah you can see everything, can you?"

He nods, ears burning red.

"I probably shouldn't wear all white when I know its going to rain, that's my bad. Although..."

You place a delicate hand on his chest, playing with a button on his tunic, his heart hammering hundreds of miles a second and the colors were going haywire-

"I do like the color of panties you chose for me. Why don't we go see how the others you bought look on me, hm?"

teehee :3

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #linked universe au #final promise au #twilite answers

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jaywaslost · 3 months

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Five Times Winnie Wanted to Confess, One Time Augustine Did

—

This has been in my docs done for ages I just never got around to posting it, written during a Cold Front obsession phase

Do excuse me if they're out of character or if I messed up any dates, I can't remember them all perfectly— Anyways, Enjoy!

Sypnosis: The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.

He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.

Word count: 8.9k

The first time Winnie realized he was in love was at the tender age of 12.

He hadn’t expected to think of that at all really, especially not at 4 in the morning of all times.

The date on his phone read February 14th, 20xx. He didn’t know why he was still awake, but something in him absolutely refused to get a wink of sleep, quite different to usual. On a normal day he was asleep by 11 maximum, with the exception of the first few days after moving away from his home (his mother was very concerned, he still remembers how she’d check on him during the night to see if he was sleeping or not. He’d pretend to the best of his ability until she left before he returned to wallowing in his sorrows again.).

Scrolling on his phone seemed to be the only form of entertainment at the time, if he got out of bed his parents would realize he was awake and he really didn’t feel like getting another lecture. He didn’t have any homework to busy himself with, nor did he really feel like looking for something else. Messaging Augustine had come to mind, but there was no doubt he was asleep at this time.

The other was stubborn, especially when it came to him staying up on weekends, but he never usually made it past 2. He would also sleep in until around 1PM every time he tried to be stubborn and stay awake longer and get scolded about it when he woke up, punished with doing extra chores. On those days he wouldn’t stop complaining about it, saying he was ‘a big boy now’ and that ‘it’s not fair others get to stay awake and get away with it!’. He couldn’t help finding his friend’s enraged expressions funny.

The blond didn’t end up saying anything so as not to wake him up, they could probably talk in the morning, anyway. With nothing better to do, he scrolled through anything he could find trying to distract himself or become tired enough to sleep and get the rest he needed.

When his eyes finally started to get heavier, he noticed a website that caught his attention. It was something posted merely moments ago, titled something along the lines of what to do on valentines day for your loved ones or whatever (he was too tired to process it properly). Out of curiosity, his fingers glided over the link to open it.

It was too late for him to process most of the words, but what stood out was the beginning of the article. It was nothing special, only the typical explanation of what the day is and why it's considered special, but his eyes lingered on a single phrase. ‘Valentine's day was a special occasion for everyone, the perfect day to confess to your crush, whether it's a friend, classmate, or even acquaintance who has lingered on your mind’ was the quote, the rest of the paragraph continued similarly.

His tired mind couldn’t help but wonder what could happen on this day, childish brain coming up with no more than the image of people like his parents, always together and in love, dedicated to each other to the point you could see it a mile away. He wondered what the day could mean for him, is there a special someone he should be thinking about? Is it normal this is the first time he really thinks about that? Is he gonna be the outcast again being alone in the morning while everyone else has someone by their side? Was he weird because he didn’t have his eyes set on a girl he wanted to…kiss? It shouldn’t be an issue he was twelve, but what if things in Saskatchewan were different or something, would they laugh at hi-

His thoughts came to a halt as the image of his one friend came to mind. Augustine didn’t have his eyes on any girls either, right? He would have known otherwise. They told each other everything, that wouldn’t be an exception!

..Did he know anything about this day? It was never acknowledged all that much in Quebec, was it the same here? Maybe he wasn't so weird after all? The thought calmed his nerves a little more than it should have.

Despite that, for some reason, the idea of being with his best friend during that day didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He felt his face rapidly heat up at the thought of holding his hand, it wouldn’t be the first time they did that they do so very often Augustine always liked to drag him places saying that it was easy and faster (which Winnie was offended by, he can walk fast too!) but for some reason that thought felt different, he didn’t know why.

If his reaction to finding out about the event was normal, this was definitely not. They’re friends, Auggie was his first and only friend after coming here. He didn’t pity him, he didn’t leave, he wanted to stay, he was why Winnie talked to other people at all even if to him they were enough on their own. Auggie was nice to him the way he wanted, he never left him out of things. The other boy was different, straight forward at best but Winnie liked that about him. He never lied about things (even if he did, he was so bad it was laughable), and he never laughed when Winnie’s emotions took the best of him. He supported him and it meant everything to the little boy.

Since they met, he visibly started feeling better. He finally came out of his shell and started crying less, eventually returning to his normal sleep schedule. Well, normal until today that was. But that's all they were, right? Nothing else, that's all they could be right? He wasn’t a girl, nor was the brunette, so that’s what they were.

..Their parents didn’t ever say anything about the way they acted, so it was okay right? Not much would change if they did do things together on that day. Would it be weird if he said he loved him in the morning?? That was the point of the day right? To celebrate love with people you like and enjoy the day together?

It would be okay if he tried to say something right? Nothing bad would happen, Auggie would probably be okay with it too. He didn’t want to be alone and he doubted the other did either, so it was good for them both right?

Winnie barely processed it when he yawned, just realizing how tired all that thinking had made him. Another look at the time told him over an hour had passed, 5:21 Am now instead of 4 when he last checked.

He had to rest so he knew what to say in the morning, otherwise he’ll mess up and forget later!

Finally, he closed his eyes and drifted off to a dreamless sleep 6 hours later than he would have typically wanted to.

It was 2 P.M when Winnie woke up, his head was pounding. His eyes hurt to open and he felt a lot more tired than usual, entirely disoriented.

The door creaked open as a woman with an appearance similar to the child peered her head in, perking up when she realized he was awake.

“Winnie?”

He really shouldn’t have stayed awake, his head hurt even more at hearing the words that he almost forgot to process his name being called. Mustering up the energy to fix his seating, he looked up at his mother to respond despite looking like an absolute wreck.

He was too out of it to really process what happened before he found himself near the lake with Augustine, the shorter kicking rocks into it paying little attention to him spacing out.

..Ah right, he was scolded for being awake for so long. Apparently his mother had realized he was awake when she went to take the laundry out of his room in the morning. His phone was warm, a clear sign he only got off of it recently. She ended up leaving after telling him to get ready for the day, that his best friend had been waiting for him for an hour by that point.

Hearing how long he left him standing, Winnie practically jumped out of bed already panicked as guilt overtook his senses. As soon as he was ready, he basically raced out the door to find his friend who was halfway up climbing a tree by the time he noticed him.

“Auggie!” he exclaimed while making his way over, whatever the other responded didn’t stick to his memory, too tired to really process how fast he typically spoke.

“-Winnie! Look at me already!”

The blond was snapped out of his trance by a flick to the forehead, blinking a few times before his eyes cooperated enough to notice how close his friend was to his face. He practically jumped back with a yelp, forgetting how he was sitting on the edge of the lake and falling into the water.

Augustine panicked and barely grabbed onto his hand, almost falling into the water himself. It’s not that Winnie was unable to swim, more that the water was cold if anything.

With some splashing, they eventually managed to pull him out, but he was absolutely soaked. Augustine couldn’t help but laugh at how wet he was, much to Winnie’s displeasure.

“DON’T LAUGH AT ME YOU’RE THE REASON I FELL AUGGIE” He huffed out, faking annoyance which only made his friend laugh harder.

It was.. Nice.

…until he began sneezing, that was.

The two ended up having to run to Winnie’s house as Augustine dragged him back by the hand once more, trying to warm him up as they went along.

The brunette ended up having to explain to their parents why Winnie was soaked when they were just meant to be playing as he dried himself off and changed, eventually making his way back to his room after Auggie had left to his own house again.

Their conversation can wait, he was too tired and it wasn’t the right time.

But that was okay.

They’ll always have time.

———————————————

The second time Winnie thought about love, he was 14.

2 years had passed since his valentines day dilemma, safe to say time (and procrastination) had eventually made him forget all about his plans.

As they got older, Auggie had hardly changed. They were still together as they were since he moved, only fresh in highschool! Best friends, like they said they were.

During the past few years, he was pressured to talk to more people and make new friends. At some point, he no longer found himself obsessing over finding out why they wanted to be around him. Eventually, the thought of being approached out of pity felt only like a distant memory or something he imagined happening, though it was far from that. If not for that fear, his mother wouldn’t have talked to Augustine’s about him, they wouldn’t have had their c̶h̶a̶o̶t̶i̶c̶ first meeting, never gotten the chance to be this close.

He may not admit or even say it all that often, but that is one thing he’s grateful for. If not for that, he’d have still been dealing with the emotional wreck of being the new kid, outcast like he always expected to be. But he didn’t need to be, it was proven to him in the best way it ever could have been.

He had come to know Augustine’s other friends, they even liked him. The first time he couldn’t make it to school and they still invited Winnie to sit with them the boy was overjoyed, almost to the point he forgot about his friend’s absence for a while. By the time the day was over, he couldn’t help feeling empty without the energetic presence rambling alongside him as they walked back home.

It was one day, so it didn’t matter that much in the long run right?

From that day on, he became more comfortable with them. He didn’t worry as much about being wanted there or not, becoming visibly more comfortable. It came to the point that it was so clear the brunette asked him about it straight up during the middle of one of their walks.

“Hey Win?” Augustine paused, nearly causing the boy behind him to run into him.

The blond caught himself the last second, stabilizing his stance enough to make sure he wouldn’t fall before speaking again.

“Mm yea Auggie? Why’d you stop walking? I was gonna fall on you!” He whined.

“You’ve been more willing to sit with people recently, did something happen while I was gone?”

His questioning look was met with a big smile, almost like Winnie was waiting to talk about it.

“Oh!! That? When you didn’t come a few days ago, your friends came up to me and asked me to sit with them even if you weren’t there, they were really nice and-”

As he continued to ramble, Augustine returned to walking. While the other followed soon after, his expression stayed the same as his ramble- which the brunette stopped listening to- didn’t cease. He felt weird about that, why did it feel weird hearing how happy Winnie was hanging out with his friends on their own? That was what he wanted, right? To get him more friends?

It was probably nothing, doubt it mattered much anyway. It was one time and a normal thing.

“You never told me why you didn't show up to school that day though, did something happen? Mom didn’t let me check on you because she said you probably didn’t want to be bothered at the time” Winnie inquired all of a sudden, catching the other’s attention and cutting off his line of thought.

“I was sick, couldn’t get out of bed and recovered over the weekend” he quickly responded, it was no lie but saying he wasn’t bummed out by not seeing his friend would be a lie. It would have probably made him feel less like a glorified pile of muck on the side of the road.

At least now he knows he wasn’t ditched, it wasn’t intentional or voluntary at least.

Winnie didn’t abandon him because of them.

Of course he wouldn’t! Why would he ever leave someone like him, anyway? He was Winnie’s first and closest friend, nobody else. Others getting to know him wouldn’t change that, if they would have then Winnie wouldn’t have put his all into proving he was cool enough they’d be friends.

Winnie didn’t really notice the look on his friend’s face, too focused on making sure they crossed the road properly. The traffic lights were green and cars were zooming past, yet Augustine’s pace didn’t slow or pause at all. Rushing forward a little faster, he pulled the other back by his collar.

Augustine yelped, not expecting a sudden pull cutting off his breathing for a moment. Winnie gave him a sheepish smile as he coughed trying to breathe properly again, muttering out an awkward apology.

“You were about to walk into the road silly, why did you get so distracted suddenly?” He didn’t say how he found it funny, knowing the other would throw a dramatic fit over that. It was slightly endearing, in a way.

He only realized he sas silently staring at the one before him for a few minutes too long until he felt tapping on his forehead.

“Earth to Winnie, you didn’t hear a word I said didn’t you?” Augustine grumbled.

Winnie couldn't help but laugh once again, his antics really were different.

“We can cross the road now, hurry up before it turns green again!”

It seemed like his dear friend was back to being himself after that mini-distraction, it felt more right this way. He was, once again, taken by the hand as Auggie ran across the road to get them past as fast as possible without the light switching colours on them again.

Winnie could swear he almost tripped 3 times during that small distance run. He should really focus more.

As he looked back to his best friend he couldn’t help but sit there in silence for a few minutes. He wasn’t saying anything this time, only staring off at something god knows where again. As he did so, Winnie couldn’t help thinking back to his thoughts that night two years ago.

Should he bring it up? They were even closer now, so it was even less possible Auggie would react badly (if he did at all!)He had the energy for the conversation this time, they were alone like they needed to be too!

If he didn’t say anything, he’d be too much of a coward to do so again later. 2 years passing since the time he originally planned to and ended up ditching proved that!

With a deep breath and little to no plan, Winnie decided to just get it over with as he could quite literally feel himself inching closer to a heart attack.

“Hey Auggie?”

Augustine turned to him, suddenly losing interest in whatever had his attention moments ago.

“What is i-”

“AUGUSTINE!’

A voice of someone they hadn’t anticipated caught both the young boys off guard. Winnie recognized her, a girl from their math class earlier that day. She was insistent on talking to his friend almost the entire class which threw him off but he said nothing nonetheless.

Augustine’s attention snapped to the call of his name instead, focus shifting.

Winnie didn’t hear the conversation that transpired next, busy trying to understand why the sudden interruption annoyed him the way it did.

It happened sometimes, that was normal. Augustine knew everyone, it's only natural they came up to him sometimes too no? He wasn’t the only one.

“Winnie I need to go for a bit, Donna just said there’s something I need to see quickly or something? You can continue without me I’ll tell you when I’m back” the boy rushed out as he was being pulled away off to the complete opposite road of the path they were going on.

Winnie found himself nodding involuntarily, hardly processing it when the words “I’ll see you when you’re back then” came out of his mouth.

They were oddly dry, not the way he usually talks.

Augustine wasn’t able to dwell on that much further as the girl, now known as Donna, dragged him off somewhere else leaving Winnie alone.

Another time, surely it’d work out by then right?

———————————————

The third time Winnie acknowledged love, he was 16.

Another two years had passed and, once again, he kept procrastinating and chickening out at the last second.

The one time he was finally about to say something, Augustine was dragged away and didn’t return until midnight. He was worried sick the entire day, what if something happened? He promised not to take long, why did he? Maybe he was dragged into something bad, maybe he got hurt and couldn’t come back yet what if he got kidnapped what if something worse happened he didn’t know what the’d do with himself if—

Their mothers were equally worried that day, apparently Augustine didn’t tell his parents he’d take longer because of whatever happened either. When he returned alone, Winnie was questioned about the others whereabouts and lacked a good answer, increasing their concern only for the boy in question to appear again a mere few hours later and get the scolding of his life.

He wasn’t hurt more than a few scratches here and there, some bruises sure but those were his own fault for not being careful as he should have been. Auggie never explained what happened that day, though. It’s not like he pressed for any further information but it was…weird.

Since then, he never brought it up again no matter how much the brunette pestered him to continue his sentence on that day, claiming he forgot or making up any excuse he could think of on the spot to avoid having that interaction when he was not yet prepared. He was procrastinating for so long it had to be perfect. That was the only thing that would make it feel worth the wait.

Winnie would tell him on the anniversary of their first meeting.

..was it excessive? To call it an anniversary, he doubted Auggie remembered the date as anything special but it meant the world to him at the time, and it does even as time passed. It was when he realized he didn’t have to feel so alone anymore, the day someone in this province finally made him feel wanted and welcome.

Because of him, he got closer to more people. The friends Augustine introduced him to, the ones who invited him to hang out with them alone, others around the school, they all wanted to know him for him now. He was the reason they started liking Winnie, the reason he has any other friends at all.

Of course, Augustine would forever stay his favourite and dearest one, but that didn’t mean others didn’t become valued too. Winnie had never been happier, people waving to him as he passed by, stopping to talk to him from time to time, it made him feel warm inside again.

He didn’t miss the glances he got, but it never felt like much of a concern.

At least, not for a while.

Or not yet.

What he had noticed was how Augustine had changed over the years, how he reacted whenever the blond introduced him to a new friend he’d make. How he tended to not respond the way he used to when they were talking about interests they had, especially Hockey.

Winnie knew his friend always loved that game. He was the best player their school had for years, close to all other members of the team and always telling him about it. H̶e̶ t̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ h̶o̶w̶ c̶o̶n̶v̶e̶n̶i̶e̶n̶t̶l̶y̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ t̶a̶l̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶ l̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ u̶p̶ w̶i̶t̶h̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶i̶m̶e̶ w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ j̶o̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ t̶e̶a̶m̶ a̶l̶o̶n̶g̶s̶i̶d̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶ b̶o̶y̶.

H̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ d̶i̶s̶t̶a̶n̶t̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶ r̶i̶n̶k̶, w̶h̶e̶n̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶'s̶ e̶y̶e̶s̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ c̶o̶l̶d̶e̶r̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶ h̶a̶d̶ b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶.

W̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ d̶i̶f̶f̶e̶r̶e̶n̶t̶.

N̶o̶t̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ i̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ a̶n̶ i̶s̶s̶u̶e̶ t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶, t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶, r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶ I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶l̶y̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶ b̶a̶d̶ d̶a̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶w̶a̶y̶, t̶h̶i̶s̶ y̶e̶a̶r̶ w̶a̶s̶ n̶o̶t̶ t̶r̶e̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ k̶i̶n̶d̶l̶y̶ b̶y̶ a̶n̶y̶ m̶e̶a̶n̶s̶.

They were still friends, accompanying each other to every class and doing things together as always. It was a good thing how they haven’t changed in that regard, people always came to associate them with the other.

Overtime, it became apparent that wherever Augustine is, Winnie was not far away and vice versa. They used to joke about it at first until it became frequent enough the joke itself got boring. Now, it’s nothing special.

Sure, they walked with other people and hung out with others sometimes. a̶t̶ l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶, A̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ m̶u̶s̶t̶ h̶a̶v̶e̶ t̶o̶o̶ n̶o̶?̶ h̶e̶ h̶a̶d̶ p̶l̶e̶n̶t̶y̶ o̶f̶ f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶ a̶s̶ f̶a̶r̶ a̶s̶ h̶e̶ k̶n̶e̶w̶. But it never damaged their bond.

Winnie was planning this day for the past 4 months at this point, it almost felt funny how repetitive this routine felt by the third time. “The day he would stop being a coward, would say it to his friend’s face and wait for the response he yearns for” or whatever he always thought about, cheesy in a way but it wasn’t like he could exactly help that.

They were only walking through the halls during their lunch period when they passed by Winnie’s locker. A normal thing if not for the fact 3 people were crowded around it, whispering to themselves.

The duo didn’t pay it much time at first, preferring to continue their debate on the newest pointless subject they thought of: if oranges came first or if it was the colour. Augustine insisted the fruit did, whereas Winnie was prepared to die on the hill saying it was the other way around.

The group of 3 in front of the locker were not people the two were particularly friends with, Winnie recognized one as someone who sits next to him in.. biology? At least that's what he remembered. Augustine shrugged at the question of their names, saying it didn’t come up enough for him to remember them much, adding on how they weren’t particularly interesting enough for him to care beyond acquainting with anyway.

It wasn’t something Winnie needed to put much thought into either, trusting his friend’s judgement.

All that really mattered now was convincing Auggie to follow him to the rooftop where he could finally say what he wanted to in complete privacy, but until then he had to keep his cool and continue their seemingly endless bickering.

They were forced to snap out of their conversation when one of the boys pushed someone towards them, turning to see what the issue was. The girl pushed towards them by her friends lost her balance, but Winnie quickly caught her fall before any actual damage could be caused, at which her face turned red.

H̶e̶ c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ s̶w̶e̶a̶r̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ g̶l̶a̶r̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ h̶e̶r̶.

“Are you okay?” he inquired, looking between the three in obvious confusion.

The girl just nodded, fiddling with her hands seemingly unable to form a proper response. As he turned away to leave after telling them to be more careful, his arm was grabbed by her as a seemingly impulse decision she regretted almost immediately after.

W̶a̶y̶ t̶o̶ s̶e̶t̶ h̶i̶s̶ p̶l̶a̶n̶ o̶f̶f̶ a̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶, h̶e̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ h̶a̶d̶ 1̶5̶ m̶i̶n̶u̶t̶e̶s̶ l̶e̶f̶t̶!̶

Before he could breathe, she finally spoke up.

“Can I- talk to you for a few minutes?”

Winnie looked back at his friend, seemingly at a loss. He didn’t want to stay, he planned so long for this but she didn’t have plans of letting him go yet and-

The look on Augustine’s face was cold as it was on those days in the rink, his expression changing to one Winnie couldn’t read in mere seconds after they were talking normally only moments ago.

At least that's what he thought, it’s what that looked like anyway.

“You can go, it’s fine” the brunette said, though Winnie knew better than to believe his tone was one of someone who really didn’t care what he did. He knew better than that, Augustine was annoyed, but what for?

It seemed like the girl took that as an invitation to drag him away, almost tripping Winnie in the meantime. Her friends cheered her on as Augustine only turned around and walked in the opposite direction instead of waiting for him to return after or interrupting her for dragging him off like that.

Whatever side of the school she was taking him to he didn’t quite notice, only realizing how far they’d gone when she shoved a letter into his hands and refused to look at him. Winnie could easily guess the implications of that, seeing the heart sticker on the front of it.

It was about to be a long conversation, one he didn’t want to be a part of.

Why was it so difficult for things to work out when he wanted to come clean?

Maybe another time, surely.

———————————————

Winnie was 18 when they grew apart.

Their separation started slow, over the course of a few years.

It wasn’t entirely like that of course!- they were talking less is all, not really separate. They still hung out at school sometimes like they used to and sat together in one or two classes, W̶i̶n̶n̶i̶e̶ f̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ d̶r̶a̶g̶g̶e̶d̶ s̶o̶m̶e̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ e̶l̶s̶e̶ m̶o̶r̶e̶ o̶f̶t̶e̶n̶ t̶h̶a̶n̶ n̶o̶t̶, A̶u̶g̶g̶i̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ h̶i̶m̶ s̶o̶ h̶e̶ d̶i̶d̶n̶'t̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ w̶a̶s̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ m̶u̶c̶h̶ o̶f̶ a̶ p̶r̶o̶b̶l̶e̶m̶ r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶?̶

They walked together after on their home, but Auggie never looked at him if he could help it. When he did, something felt wrong. Instead of the warm looks he always received when they were kids, it was like looking at a stranger.

Any conversations they had were started by him and died out quite quickly, the other giving the bare minimum of a response if not just nodding and moving along. The blond never figured out how to get him to talk like they used to again, nor the reason for the sudden change.

Something he noticed more and more as he approached his friend was the way the other would scoff, as if annoyed by his mere presence. Winnie remembers staying awake night after night thinking and trying to understand what happened, where he went wrong, what he did to make things this way.

He looked through every conversation he could find, recounting every single one he could remember trying to find what about him led his friend to being unhappy about his presence after so long.

Could it be that Augustine had grown tired of him?

Winnie shook his head- he was too tired to be thinking of this at the moment. They would be heading back home in a bit, it was 3:00 anyway, a few minutes left before the bell rings.

He would approach Auggie and have a proper conversation again if it was the last thing he did!

…He didn’t realize how hard that would be until he was already looking for the other, trying to make up any topic so they wouldn’t walk in silence again, and fate didn’t seem to be on his side as he found the person he was in search of before conjuring anything up.

Despite the cold air between them, Augustine still waited for him at the gate so they could walk back together. It made Winnie feel more at ease, knowing he at least didn’t mess up badly enough to get ditched entirely.

He didn’t respond to anyone calling him as he speed-walked over to the brunette, not wanting to make him wait longer than he already did. Heavens know the last thing Winnie wanted now was to have Augustine ditch him because he took too long.

As soon as he arrived, the brunette turned around and started walking down the path that's been imprinted into their memory over the years. It was always a routine of theirs to walk back together, the company was nice. The few times they were separated by something happening always ended up in an apology or hangout later that day to make up for the time.

Winnie both loved and hated how this walk started to feel overtime. The silence wasn’t comfortable as it used to be, his friend didn't look like he planned to break it either. As expected, the job fell on his shoulders.

The further they went, the worse it got. The familiarity of the path at least allowed him to space out and think more about what to do to make things less awkward.

It seemed as if his brain had other plans, by the way it didn’t cooperate. Whatever, they knew each other for years. The last few conversations couldn’t keep repeating, they’d never improve again if neither of them spoke up.

“Hey Auggie?” He began, with little clue as to where he planned to go with the conversation.

For the first time that day, Augustine looked up at him. “Yea?”

“I heard you had a test today, how did it go? Math right?” Winnie did not in fact hear of a math test, let alone one at all. A friend of his mentioned stressing over one the week prior and he just asked that based on someone else who probably wasn’t even in the same cla-

“Another calculus one, yes. Absurdly soon seeing when the last one was” he responded, looking back to the street instead of the one next to him.

That was something Winnie could work with, a start somewhere.

“How did it go? You were always complaining about that subject then finishing all the work before I even got halfway through the page, it was impressive”

There was a shift in Augustine’s expression, small, but noticeable. It was a good confirmation he was doing alright so far, which was all he needed.

The shorter just shrugged at the question. It was how he always reacted to those sorts of inquiries, Winnie couldn’t help letting out a small laugh.

H̶e̶ m̶i̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶ w̶a̶y̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ s̶t̶i̶f̶f̶e̶n̶e̶d̶ a̶t̶ t̶h̶e̶ s̶o̶u̶n̶d̶.

“How'd you know there was a test to benign with? We’re in different math classes” Augustine may have been staring at the road still, but he was less focused on their path more at kicking the rocks he found on the way. A classic thing he did, trying to get them to go as far as possible.

When they were younger they used to try and see who could do it better, but Winnie eventually grew out of it. Of the many things that changed about Augustine, that habit was not one.

“A friend was complaining about it the last time we talked, I assumed you might have the same teacher and I was right!” He answered. What to him seemed like a simple answer made Augustine pause. Pause for a lot longer than he should have as his expression shifted again.

..Winnie didn’t think he said anything wrong, did he?

Augustine didn’t respond, opting to go back to walking faster than before rather than say a word.

They would be silent again if he didn’t continue, it was going well for once his friend responded with proper sentences again instead of gestures or small sentences.

“I’m sure you did great, Auggie!” He saw the other smile and roll his eyes at those words, s̶l̶i̶g̶h̶t̶l̶y̶ r̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶d̶?̶.

The direction he was going in seemed to be exactly what was needed, so Winnie went on. “Did you go to hockey practice last Friday? I had to miss it to help my parents with stuff after school but I couldn’t stop thinking about that”

Augustine scoffed and Winnie hesitated to say anything else as a strange feeling set in.

“I went, everyone kept asking about you though”

“That’s so nice of them, I didn’t-” He was cut off by the feeling of his wrist being grabbed roughly.

“What was that?”

Winnie blinked awkwardly, just noticing the expression on the other’s face.

“I just..said that it was nice?” Augustine held onto his wrist tighter at that.

“Don’t play dumb, repeat what you said again I dare you.”

He was angry.

Despite everything, Winnie had never seen the other angry with him. He saw him annoyed, yelling at others from time to time, but never him. Especially not while grabbing his arm like it had offended him somehow.

“I didn’t say anythi-”

“You think I’m stupid don’t you? I heard you, coward.” The brunette let go of him and Winnie held the now slightly reddened wrist as his confusion only grew.

“Of course you didn’t. Whatever, I’ll see you later.”

Before Winnie could respond or reach out to stop him, the other stormed off in the opposite direction on his own but not without sending him a glare before he left.

He messed up again.

The problem was he didn’t know what he said.

Did he not like hockey anymore? Was that topic a bad idea?

For the first time, Winnie felt like their end was near.

He didn't know how long he stood in place before his legs finally started moving again, what he did know was the chances of fixing their friendship were lower than they were previously at the start of the day. The Augustine he knew and the one he was faced with felt like different people now.

It was like there was a stranger in his skin.

———————————————

Winnie was 18 when he wished he never thought about love at all.

A long time had passed since his last conversation with Augustine, and it was now the summer.

Their relationship only got worse after the conversation on their walk back to their houses, always off when the other one is present.

If anyone asked Winnie if he expected this only a few years prior, he would be beyond confused. The boy couldn’t have predicted a fallout as bad as this one.

He was going to move soon, they didn’t need to deal with this much longer.

That was what he thought, at least. When it came to the day right before they moved, their parents made them hang out together again. Instead of what they may have typically done a while back, they opted to go on one last car ride together to talk one last time.

It wasn’t like the fact they grew apart this badly wasn’t his fault. He’s the one who stopped talking despite Augustine’s attempts.

He’s the one who never responded after…

H̶e̶ n̶o̶t̶i̶c̶e̶d̶ A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ l̶o̶o̶k̶ a̶t̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶r̶o̶m̶ a̶c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶ t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ c̶l̶a̶s̶s̶e̶s̶, c̶l̶u̶b̶s̶, a̶n̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ w̶e̶r̶e̶ t̶y̶p̶i̶c̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ t̶o̶g̶e̶t̶h̶e̶r̶. H̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶a̶i̶d̶ a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ i̶t̶.

Winnie was beyond nervous, but to say he wasn’t excited was a lie. As much as he may have avoided acknowledging it, he missed the other dearly. D̶e̶s̶p̶i̶t̶e̶ w̶h̶a̶t̶ h̶e̶ w̶a̶n̶t̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ b̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶, h̶e̶ n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ s̶t̶o̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ l̶o̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ h̶i̶m̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶h̶a̶t̶ o̶n̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶d̶e̶ i̶t̶ h̶u̶r̶t̶ w̶o̶r̶s̶e̶.

He grabbed the nearest pair of glasses and rushed out the door.

A̶u̶g̶u̶s̶t̶i̶n̶e̶ u̶s̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ j̶o̶k̶i̶n̶g̶l̶y̶ m̶a̶k̶e̶ f̶u̶n̶ o̶f̶ h̶i̶m̶ f̶o̶r̶ h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶o̶s̶e̶ o̶n̶e̶s̶ a̶n̶d̶ t̶a̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ t̶h̶e̶m̶ e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.

He found the other waiting for him outside, avoiding eye contact which Winnie didn’t blame him for. They got into the car in silence, the drive continued that way for a while.

Winnie didn’t know what to do, so he pretended nothing happened. He was too focused on making sure his legs don’t go numb while he’s driving, the last thing they needed was a car accident.

As if life was trying to make things hard for him intentionally, that's exactly what they found themselves set up for.

Stranded in a frozen car, suddenly in the middle of winter, dealing with situations beyond their comprehension after a fight in the car.

First staring at the frozen corpses of their child selves, being chased by an..elk-bear monstrosity, falling into what looked like an endless hole, the list went on..

Augustine was searching for a way to leave the entire time, to figure out what happened, but Winnie was unable to get himself to move or put in the same effort.

They were currently in his house, or what looked to be it, and Augustine was searching the rooms. He was sitting on the piles of boxes trying to think of something to help, trying not to freeze to his death.

His gaze lingered on the stairs as memories played out in his mind.

The day he fell down the stairs and broke his legs, the way Augustine left.

When he tripped and was found by someone else, when he waited for Augustine’s return before he passed out for it to never come.

When he truly started questioning the very core of their relationship.

He was not.. Angry. He was confused.

Months later, he still didn’t have an answer as to why. He didn’t know what they were anymore, and it hurt.

It hurt worse than anything, but he didn't blame the other. Augustine didn’t act without reason, he wasn’t the irrational type.

The phrase Augustine said moments before was looping endlessly in his head.

Before he fell- before Winnie LET him fall.

Begging him to hold onto his hands properly and pull him up.

“Please don’t let go. I’m your friend. We’re friends.”

The silence that followed will haunt him.

“We are friends, right?”

The same question he asked himself for months.

He was dragged out of his trance hearing mumbling behind him. Augustine was standing there, a dark look in his eyes.

Darker than Winnie had ever seen from him.

He was..worried.

“Auggie?”

The mumbling continued.

“Augustine? Hello?”

No response.

It took a while for the other to respond, he seemed just as confused as he was.

His chest felt heavy as they both stood there, while he could blame it on paranoia caused by the situation as they are both standing on top of a staircase reminding him of the fall, it wasn’t that.

They needed to talk.

They couldn’t go on like this, one of them needed to do something to break their silence.

Augustine tried and was either met with nothing before or what had happened when they were in the car, it was only right that he began.

“..We can’t go on like this.” He began.

Augustine’s eyes shot up to meet his and Winnie’s, and for the first time in a while he felt familiar.

He continued talking, only pausing to take a breath knowing if he stopped he would freeze up. For the first time in years, he saw himself getting through to his friend.

When he finished, he saw the way Augustine’s lips quivered, the way he shook slightly, he looked the most fragile he ever has. Like a single gust of wind could break him apart. Winnie hated seeing the one he looked up to and loved so dearly look that way, knowing he was part of the reason only made him hate it more.

The dams broke as Augustine’s words spilled out, years of struggle being put before his very eyes.

His chest felt tight, he never thought actions he never thought much of hurt the other this badly, yet here he was listening to it all.

Responding was something he didn’t feel himself do, more truthful than he ever was.

Pouring their hearts out in his house while it was snowing indoors was never something either of them expected to do, but here they were.

“There’s nothing in this world that can replace you.”

“I’m sorry…! I’m really sorry…!”

“I should’ve respected your line…!”

“I should’ve thought about how you’d feel, I should’ve put myself in your shoes…!”

“But I was too blinded by admiration back then that-”

“I couldn’t see that you were my one and only friend before my hero!”

“It must’ve been so frustrating… It must’ve been so upsetting…!”

“You don’t have to forgive me, I know apologizing now won’t change the past…”

“But I just want you to know this…!”

Winnie could hardly process a single word coming out of his mouth, Augustine stood in front of him with his mouth agape taking in everything.

He took that as an invitation to continue.

“You are the coolest and brightest person I have ever met in my whole life, Augustine!”

“I was only able to do all the things I’ve accomplished so far because you encouraged me back then…!”

“Because you gave me hope. You work hundreds, thousands, million times harder than me… And I remind myself every day how lucky I am to have ever met a friend like you…!”

“...-You’re amazing like that!-..”

Winnie’s heart ached at every tear that dropped, the other tried to stop but he couldn’t. They momentarily panicked when he couldn’t breathe through the tears, but it was only expected after such a long time of bottling everything up.

Everything felt worth it again when he saw his smile.

The one he knew, the smile that drew him in from the start.

This was the Augustine he knew.

They had to get back to reality, if his theory was correct then he knew how to do so.

They just needed to hurry up before their time runs out, Winnie believed in them, they could do it together.

He finally felt complete again, the hole in his heart filled simply by a single conversation.

Maybe he didn’t regret thinking about love all these years, all he needed was a reminder.

A reminder was exactly what he got, and he could not be more grateful for it.

For the first time in years, they were truly friends.

They were not alone.

———————————————

It had been around 3 months since the car accident.

Since the two were trapped in an upside down car, experiencing a world made up of their own horrors.

Since they finally, truly became the friends they always thought they were.

The speech they had, the chance to finally bond again and come clean about everything, took so much more weight off of Augustine's shoulders than he could have ever imagined it would. Sure, the cost was a broken leg, but it also meant that Winnie got to stay longer too.

Augustine could never describe how it felt looking at his friend again, finally seeing a friend rather than a competitor. Someone to relax around again rather than someone he was inferior to. Winnie did all he did to be like him of all people and all he saw were false attempts to tear him down and take his place.

Part of him can’t imagine that anymore, the same part that yearned to talk to Winnie again since the accident the winter before that. The same part that kept him up at night about not helping, not doing something, anything to help him when he fell down those stairs and broke his legs.

He had one broken leg and support yet he was still struggling, still healing from the consequences of it. It had made for a fun joke though, making Winnie bring or do stuff for him because as the driver it was easy to blame him for the crash and therefore the break. At first Winnie looked incredibly guilty when it was brought up, going silent before apologizing so unlike himself. It took a few weeks to get him to see it as the joke it was, but when that worked he never got to live it down.

It wasn’t like he seemed to mind though, frequently asking Augustine if he wanted anything else after he brought up the idea of feeling like having something of any sort and getting up on his own, even if it was merely a passing thought or mood.

It was…nice.

What was not nice on the other hand was the days itching closer to the new moving date.

Augustine finally healed, which meant Winnie would be moving soon.

He would leave to go to the college they both wanted. Oddly, instead of sparking feelings of anger or envy this time, he felt more melancholic about the thought.

As the day came closer and closer, a sense of emptiness overtook him. Winnie was the same, they hung together a lot more than they have in the last few years as a whole, but the departure always felt wrong.

Despite their talk, they both knew there were still words unsaid between them. Neither of them had the guts to come clean about them, but they both knew something was still missing.

Augustine’s realization came when he felt funny after hanging out with Winnie for a while. The taller had gotten tired after their outing, falling asleep on him at some point during their conversation. He didn’t notice at first, too distracted going on about some topic that came up. He was a man of strong opinions, and those opinions he was gonna tell.

He only noticed when the sound of soft snoring reached his ears. The blond was fully leaned up against him, sound asleep.

This was..the most relaxed Augustine saw him in some time. It had been a long time since they were in a position like that, he never counted, though.

He couldn’t help but stare, a̶d̶m̶i̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ looking at the other. He had changed over the years (obviously), both mentally and physically as expected. He was a lot taller now, as opposed to the little height difference they had as children. Despite that and his generally bigger build, he still carried that gentle air around him, something he welcomed, really. A threatening Winnie didn’t sound very entertaining, he’d know by now.

Only after Winnie left did he realize how much..lighter? He had felt it. Something was different, but not in the same way as before. It was good, or at least so he thought. It didn’t feel suffocating or unfamiliar.

…He had fallen again, hadn’t he?

Augustine tried to push that thought away for days, as the thought of it made his brain hurt too much to think about it. He couldn’t be bothered and quite frankly preferred to ignore the existence of those feelings as a whole! And so that's what he did.

Winnie would move soon, the feelings would fade, they’d go back to just being best friends and he’d NEEEVER have to think about it again!

..or that's what he’d hoped, and oh how wrong he was.

The days passed fast. Faster than they should have, both of them hated it but time wouldn’t slow down for them. Afterall, it’s their own fault they didn’t speak for a long time, they lost their spark and almost burned down their friendship entirely out of their own stupidity.

That's why it didn’t feel real when they had to say goodbye. They may have nearly split apart, but they were always near. Winnie never felt as comfortable as he did with Augustine around anyone else, and Augustine never felt complete without him there.

It made his stomach churn.

“Don’t you dare end up falling down another set of stairs in that college will you? I can’t help you there to pay this back” The brunette half heartedly complained, visibly struggling to come up with anything to say.

“I won’t, I won't! You don’t set things on fire in exchange, deal?” Winnie giggled.

“That was ONE time-”

“One too many!~”

The sound of a car horn cut Augustine off before he could throw a witty response back at his companion, Winnie’s parents telling them to hurry up before they were late.

Whatever happy mood they were in dissipated as fast as it originally came along, both of them going silent.

“..You’ll come back eventually, right?” Augustine asked in a voice far quieter, smaller, than Winnie ever wanted to hear from him. It wasn’t right.

“Of course I will!” he shot back almost immediately, almost offended the other thought that at all. Really who did he take him for?

“Good, who else would praise elks for existing the same way you do every christmas?” Going back to the previous atmosphere and feel of their conversation felt better than keeping the heavy feeling their goodbye gave. At least one last bit of entertainment for them.

Though it couldn’t last long, Winnie’s parents were clearly getting impatient to the point both boys saw it without sparing them more than a simple glance.

“They’re still better than your bears, but we might need to continue this conversation another time, being late is hardly ideal for moving again, you know?” Although it was meant to be a joke, Winnie’s tone failed to convey that, sounding more down than anything.

“Stay safe on the car ride then you idiot”

“That's hardly up to me,but I can try?”

“Good, I’ll never let it go in the afterlife if you don’t” The eyeroll Augustine did could be felt, without even looking at him.

“I get it I get it, goodbye for now then? I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise you” Tone changing from his usual up-beat one, Winnie gave his friend the last hug they would have for a long time.

Augustine didn’t hesitate to return the hug, hardly keeping himself together at all.

“I guess so”

“Do you not even want to say anything to me anymore? Im hurt</3”

Augustine sighed, his mind felt like too much of a wreck to process the events that followed.

They both had to separate as Winnie walked to his parents’ car, whatever washed over Agustine really decided to do so at the worst time possible because not even a moment after the other had turned around, he found himself blurting out the one sentence he was trying to avoid and forget about for months.

‘I love you’

Every part of him that hoped Winnie didn’t hear him was let down as he paused and turned to look at the brunette, who was processing the fact those words came out of his lips at all.

Opposed to what he was expecting, the one in blue smiled at him with a smile more genuine than he has ever seen from him.

“That will be something else we talk about when I come back” he said, voice maintaining the calm feel it carried with it earlier in the conversation.

“I- uhm- oka. Yes, it will be” Augustine stuttered, trying to gather his nerves and thoughts as fast as possible. What was that??

“For the record, I love you too”

With that, he turned and ran to the car, not hearing whatever the other said after him. Whatever he yelled out was a topic they were to tackle later.

Finally, after 6 years of pining, Winnie no longer felt strange.

His love was requited.

#angst #fluff #ship #augustine orlov #cold front #cold front augustine #cold front game #cold front winnie #winnie bosko #augwin #gay gay homosexual gay #they kept getting inconvenienced #5 + 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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