#I wrote this at last minute because I've been wanting to do this for so long now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitemybutt · 6 months

Text

Desperate

Law x Reader NSFW!

Y'all, I wrote this at work, in between work, and in bed all on my phone so it is NOT proofread. But I just had to get this out of my head. Also this is pure smut, so no plot really. Hope yall enjoy!! Let me know what you think! MDNI!

WARNINGS: Female reader, dominate Law, female and male receiving oral, mentions of masterbation, saliva, vaginal penatration, fingering, light choking, hand necklace, aftercare, cuddling, SMUT, PURE FILTHY SMUT

Law had been desperate for a few things in his life, but a woman in any sort of romantic capacity was not one of them.

He may have enjoyed the touch of a woman every now and then...but he was never desperate for it.

That was, until you came along.

He wasn't sure when his need for you began, but it was slow, building over the two years you had been with the crew. He tried dismissing it, but soon his quick glances turned into lingering gazes, and innocent thoughts became blurred with visions of you bare before him.

Law knew that if he got his hands on you now, he would ruin you, and he would enjoy every last minute of it.

And that's where he found himself tonight: sat at his desk mind wandering to you. His paperwork was nearly finished and yet he couldn't focus anymore. You were always there, in the front of his mind. Law closed his eyes and leaned his head back against his chair. Your image was burned into his eyelids. And the thoughts came rushing in. He imagined what your nails would feel like digging into his skin, and what you would look like with disheveled hair and blown pupils, tears staining those pretty little cheeks as you beg to be fucked again.

Goddammit, he was losing his mind.

He wanted you...needed you, and yet he hadn't made any indication of such for fear of scaring you away.

He needed release and he found himself reaching for the button of his suddenly tight jeans. It would have to do, and had for some time now. Law nearly had himself free when a knock came at his door.

He gritted his teeth and redid the button and zipper. Who was coming to his door at this hour? He made his way to the door and opened it.

"What is it?" he grumbled before looking down. And then his eyes met yours. His breath nearly hitched at the sight before him. There you stood, hair tumbling around your face and cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment.

His eyes trailed down and saw that you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt, accentuating your plush thighs.

"Captain, I'm really sorry to bother you. I know it's late but I...I can't sleep. I've tried everything but my mind won't quiet. Do you have any medicine I could take? Or a tea? Anything really so long as I can sleep."

Law considered for a moment and opened the door more. He certainly could think of some ways to help you sleep...

"Come in," he gestured into the room.

As you slipped inside Law made his way to a bookshelf in the corner of his room where he kept specific medicines for sleep.

"Is this a normal occurance, y/n-ya?"

You didn't want to admit it, but it had been and you knew exactly what...or rather who the problem was. He was standing in the room with you.

"Yes. But tonight has been unbearable. I--" you stopped for a moment to consider your next words, "I feel like I'm losing it, Law..."

He stopped at the sound of his name spilling from your lips. You never called him that and he was in part glad for it, because he knew it would only add fuel to his burning desire for you. How many times had he imagined what his name would sound like as you cried it out?

When he turned around he saw you leaning against his closed door, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. When had the door shut? The room suddenly felt too small. Too hot. Focus Law, he told himself as he made his way back to you with two pills in hand. He held his hand out and dropped them into you open palm.

"Take these with a glass of water and you should fall asleep within thirty minutes." He tried sounding professional to cover for the fact that his heart was beginning to beat wildly in his chest.

You should have said "thank you" and left, but instead the words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them, "Law...do you...have you ever had thoughts about someone that has...kept you up at night?" Your cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and in that moment he knew exactly what you meant.

"What exactly is this about, y/n?" He played dumb but found himself stepping closer to you.

You looked up at him, forcing yourself to face the man that had been causing you so many sleepless nights. So many nights of feeling the warm slickness pool between your thighs. But then you lost your courage only to mumble, "it's stupid, nevermind."

But Law wasn't having it. He was moving closer still and you could feel your cheeks begin to burn hotter. "Law...?"

"Who's been keeping you so bothered?" his voice came out low and husky. He had tunnel vision. You were all he could see now and he was losing himself to you.

He placed a tattooed hand on the door beside your head and gazed down into those big doe eyes.

Your breath caught and you could feel heat beginning to build in your lower stomach. He was so close. So close now that if you leaned in you could kiss him. But instead, he moved in so that his lips were by your ear. "Who?" he whispered, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation that rolled through your body, the pills in your hand falling to the floor.

"You..." you choked out and now your whole body felt flush with embarrassment. But it was short lived because Law's lips were now on yours and his body moved to press you fully against the door.

He had finally snapped the moment it left your lips and without truly thinking, for once in his life, he acted on instinct. His lips moved against yours, soft but hungry and when he felt you reciprocate he ran his tongue along your bottom lip so that you would part for him. His tongue dancing with yours sent a heat through your core and your knees felt weak. The hand that had been on the door moved to cup your face and his other hand moved to your waist feeling the curve of your hip. His hand made its way down to the hem of your shirt where he then slipped under and gripped at your bare skin.

You were melting in his hands and you could feel your head begin to swim, your arousal apparent by the wetness you felt growing between your legs. You pulled away and looked up at him seeing nothing but hunger in his eyes. Oh, he would be your undoing. You would give him anything he asked of you. It took him no time to press his lips against the sensitive part of your neck and he trailed his tongue up to your ear.

"The things I want to do to you, y/n-ya."

A small moan escaped your lips and the heavenly sound was met with a low growl.

Your legs felt like jello. You were sure you soaked through your panties at this point.

"Then do them..." you were breathless as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. And then you were being picked up, your legs wrapping around his waist so naturally as if you had done this a million times. He moved you to his bed and laid you down, your shirt riding up exposing your stomach.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked as he hovered just above you. His hand was on your stomach and sliding further up until he reached your breast. His fingers moved to your stiff nipple where he gently pinched at it.

"Y-yes, Law..." you moaned softly.

He was so hard he could barely stand it. His cock was going to look so good shoved in that pretty mouth.

He moved to slide your shirt over your head and when he looked down at your bare chest he felt his cock twitch. Perfect peaks met him and he moved to grasp them, but then he felt your hands grasping at the buttons on his shirt. He let you work through them and when you got it off, you slid your hands over his tattooed chest.

You admired how beautiful his tattoos were and traced them for a moment. But then he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head. His head dipped down to one of your breasts and he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over it. You arched your back and a louder moan escaped your lips.

Law was starting to come undone with each moan that met his ears. He needed more. He needed to see that perfect pussy. He leaned back, releasing your hands and wasted no time in finding the elastic of your panties. He ran his finger teasingly along the band and watched you squirm.

"Tell me what you thought about when you touched yourself at night, y/n-ya"

Again your cheeks warmed and you looked to the side. Had he really known you played with yourself almost every night or was it a lucky guess?

"You, Law..."

His free hand grabbed your chin gently making you look at him.

"What exactly about me?" He wanted to hear the dirty details about your need for him. He pulled your panties down a little, trailing a finger further inside.

You supposed now was not the time to be shy, though it took you a few seconds to get it out.

"...Your hands...roaming my body, touching every inch of me. I-I thought about you slipping those pretty tattooed fingers inside of me." You felt your panties begin to slide down your thighs.

"And? I know there's more." Law was going to draw this out for as long as he could. His fantasies were coming to life before him.

"And your cock...filling me up. Pounding into me until I cant take anymore." The words coming from your mouth was pure exstasy to him. Your panties were now off and Law admired you for a moment before running a finger just above your folds.

"And do you think you deserve it?" he teased you as you moved your hips hoping his finger would slide further down. You were dripping onto his bedsheets.

One breathy "yes" from you and he ran two fingers along your slit and then inserted them into your warm and waiting cunt.

"Ah!" your eyes snapped shut and you arched into him. Was this really happening? You laying beneath Law, his fingers deep inside of you? He started slow, methodically pumping his fingers in and out but then he picked up speed and you let out a small gasp. Goddamn you were beautiful.

You grasped at the bedsheets and you tilted your head back when you felt him hit your sweet spot.

"L-law! Just like that" you cried out as he continued to hit it. If he kept going you were going to explode and cum all over his hand. Almost there.

But just before you could climax he abruptly pulled out his fingers and smirked. You collapsed and whined, your body shivering from the crash.

"Oh no, not yet," he purred as he put his soaked fingers up to your mouth. You opened obediently and he shoved them in, slickness met with saliva. Your lips closed around his fingers and you suckled at your own juices.

"Good girl," he crooned as he shoved them just a but further into your mouth causing you to drool. You made small whimpering noises and he pulled his fingers out. "Show me how you played with yourself," his mouth upturned into a wicked smile.

"Just like this..." your fingers moved to touch your clit, rubbing small circles and you let out a small moan as your other hand played with your nipples. He watched intently as he moved off of you and began working on getting his jeans off. He pulled them off with his briefs in one motion and your breath caught at the sight of his cock springing free.

Your mouth watered, and you stopped touching yourself to sit up. You needed him in your mouth now. You reached a hand out to grab it and ran it along the length of him admiring the softness of it. He let out a hiss at the touch and grabbed your chin and pulled your face forward. The tip of his cock coaxed your lips open and then your mouth. You flicked your tongue out and licked at the precum pooling at the tip and then put him in slowly, meeting his eyes.

Law stared into those big beautiful eyes full of lust and then in one motion shoved himself into your mouth. The size of him made you choke and he let out a moan at the sound. His moaning was music to you and encouraged you to begin bobbing and sucking at him. Your head moved slowly at first but the more you sucked the faster you got wanting to mouth fuck him until he came down your throat.

Law tilted his head back moving his hand from your chin and grabbing the hair at the back of your head. He pulled on it using it as leverage to shove himself into you.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he teased, your chin glistening with drool. You answered by sucking harder, and he groaned. If you kept this up he was going to cum. You grew more fervent as he pulled your head back and pushed you back onto him. Your little noises were sending him to the edge.

"Mmm, you want me to cum in that naughty little mouth of yours?" his voice came out slightly shaky and you could tell he was going to bust.

"Mhmm," you nodded, your sucking becoming sloppy. He was covered in your spit the sight of which made you even wetter.

But then he pulled out of your mouth and let out a heavy sigh. Oh he was playing with you. You groaned and grabbed at him again, but he pushed you back onto your back his fingers back in your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You grabbed at his arms, your nails digging in. You were already close just from sucking him off, so it didn't take much to build to your climax.

You felt yourself peaking as your hips moves erratically against his hand.

"That's it, y/n-ya, cum for me" he whispered, hooking the tips of his fingers inside you and wiggling them back and forth. It was your undoing as your walls constricted and you cried out.

"Ahhh, Law! Yes, ah yes!"

The aftershock went through your entire body but he wasn't pulling out. Instead, he began wiggling his fingers again and dipped his head down, his tongue meeting your clit.

"Oh I'm not done with you," he said in between licks. Your legs began to shake and you grasped at his hair as he built you back up. Your clit was so sensitive now that each lick and suckle made you jolt and coupled with his fingers you felt yourself peaking again.

"Oh fuck!" You were almost there.

One more suckle against your clit and you were crashing around him again. Your fingers grasped his hair harder as you rode out your climax.

"That's my good girl," he said against your soaked cunt. When he pulled his fingers out he ran his tongue in between his fingers, cleaning up the grool and cum that covered them. The very sight was erotic to you.

Law still wasn't done with you though. He was going to stuff you to brim with his swollen cock. He wanted to feel your overstimulated pussy clenching around him.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip just brushing your clit which made you cry out. It was so sensitive now that it almost hurt.

"Fuck me, Law" you begged him, your body thrumming with the high of your climaxes. You weren't sure if you could make it through another one, but you were going to. You needed him inside of you.

"Begging for my cock?" he ran a finger down your cheek and smirked. His tip was poking at your entrance.

"Please...please fuck me," you begged again, spreading your legs wider for him.

"Since you've been so good, I'll let you have it." And then he pushed into you, going all the way to the hilt.

"Fuck Law!"

He was in pure bliss finally feeling your walls squeezing around him. He thought he never would. And you crying out his name only made him thrust harder.

You were so overwhelmed with stimulation that you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but you didn't want him to stop. You were almost in a trance.

Law had his one hand on your hip, his other hand made its way to your throat. He wrapped his fingers around your throat applying light pressure. You didn't even realize how good it would feel but you enjoyed every second of it as he pounded you.

Law looked into your eyes, and there it was. Just as he had imagined: lust-blown eyes, with tears beginning to streak your cheeks. It was better than he imagined actually. You completely fucked out and spent.

The sight was going to make him cum. He wanted to fill you with his seed. He began pumping faster and his moans mingled with yours. You were going to cum again.

"Fuck, look how pretty you look with my cock buried in your pussy." His thrusts were hungry now, filled with need.

"Law...fuck Law, yes...yes" you could only whisper because you were so spent.

The hand Law had on your throat squeezed just a bit tighter as he reached the edge of his climax. "Fuck," he groaned, he was there. One more thrust and his head fell back.

"Fuck, y/n-ya!" At the same time, waves of pleasure hit you and your pussy spasmed around his cock. His orgasm was strong sending pulses to his cock and warm spurts of cum filled you up. When he pulled out he watched as his seed dripped out of you. What a sight.

The hand that had been on your throat moved to cup your cheek and you nuzzled into it. "Law..." you breathed. You reached up, covering his hand with your own.

"That was amazing," you rubbed his hand.

"You were perfect," he smiled and you thought you would do anything to see that smile more often.

He rolled off of you and went to the bathroom. When he returned he handed you a damp washcloth. You gave him a small smile and cleaned yourself up. When you were done, he took it from you and then crawled in the bed beside you. He laid his arm out, a request for you to move into closer. You snuggled into him, laying your head on his warm chest.

You felt the sleepiness begin the set in. And your eyes began to flutter closed. "Thank you," you managed to get out.

"For what?" he asked as he rubbed small circles across your shoulder.

"For helping me sleep."

He chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"The pleasure was all mine."

But you didn't hear him because sleep had taken you, so he snuggled into you and let sleep claim him too.

#one piece #trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #law one piece #one piece trafalgar law #one piece law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece smut #smutty #trafalgar law smut #law smut #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece fandom #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law one piece

480 notes · View notes

hazelsmirrorball · 7 months

Text

BOTTOMS THE PODCAST | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Host! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan is a special guest on The Bottoms podcast after Y/n said in a lie detector machine that she was her crush. Warnings: Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language. a/n: Wrote this in my costume design class, something happy after that angsty Rockstar girlfriend chapter. I've been binge watching frenemies so that's how I got this idea. Hope you guys like it! I really love reading ur comments, they really make my day <3

Y/n always had a lot of things to say. All her life people would make fun of her because she never knew when to shut up. Maybe it was the fact that she knew a lot about several things or the fact that she just enjoyed talking shit. But the girl could talk hours on end about things not knowing when to stop. Thankfully, Y/n had friends that liked to talk as much shit as her. Josie, PJ and Y/n could drag people like they were drinking water. So when they were offered to do a podcast the three of the girls agreed without hesitation. Getting paid to talk shit on the internet for an hour? That was an amazing deal.

And by the looks of it, everyone around them agreed that talking shit was good since they were having a godly amount of streams daily. The girls had decided to name the podcast “Bottoms” and it took place in a small studio in downtown. The girls wanted the studio to look as cozy as possible. So instead of a serious looking podcast they decided to decorate the room with vibrant colors and random knick knacks, the three girls had a say in how the studio looked so at the end of customizing it they had an unintentional division of their areas. Different colors and decorations that made their area theirs but the only thing the girls had agreed on was having bean bags as chairs, that was the best part.

Their podcast “Bottoms” was popping off, so the girls had come up with several ideas to not make the podcast repetitive or boring. Costumes, themes, breakdowns and most importantly, special guests. Due to the fact that people actually like them, there were a lot of celebrities that surprisingly wanted to be on the show. So in the last episode when Y/n was attached to a lie detector machine and was asked if famous rock star, Hazel Callahan, was attractive. She had rambled about her crush not thinking that Hazel was going to hear the podcast let alone be the next guest on it.

There she was, academy award winning rockstar, Hazel Callahan, sitting across from her. Her hair was messily styled as she threw her head back laughing at something PJ had said, her pearly whites showing through. She slammed her ring covered hands as she attempted to stop her laughing fit. For the first time in Y/n’s life she was speechless. Hazel was beautiful, Y/n knew that. But having her so close by made Y/n malfunction with her beauty. Hazel was sculpted by god and being near her made Y/n feel things she couldn’t say on air. Y/n wasn’t going to survive an hour of talking, she glanced at the timer that was behind the cameras noticing the 00:10 on the screen. Ten minutes and she hadn’t said a single word. Ten minutes of her staring at Hazel while she talked about the tour and her life. The only thing viewers could possibly see was her staring lovingly at Hazel and if she had to see a compilation on youtube of her staring at Hazel she was going to lose it.

“Damn, Y/n. Cat got your tongue? See people…Y/n likes talking shit about how much game she has. But as of right now she barely said hello to Hazel. May I remind you guys that in the last episode she said that Hazel was her dream girl and that she could take h…” PJ started pulling the microphone towards her as everyone focused her eyes on Y/n, including those damn blue eyes. Y/n could feel her body tense up but she quickly analyzed where PJ was going, so she slammed her hands on the table interrupting, PJ.

“Miss Callahan, Do you have a girlfriend? The people want to know” Y/n managed to get out. But after hearing herself in her headphones say those words she felt herself cringe instantly regretting asking that. Miss Callahan? Who the hell did she think she was speaking to? Y/n moved on her bean bag chair noticing how it sucked her up. Y/n closed her eyes not wanting to face even more embarrassment while she heard Josie and PJ attempting to hold in their laughs.

“I’m single, actually. So I hope that’s good for the people.” Hazel said, pulling her mic towards her with her ring covered hand. Hazel quickly shifted on the bean bag crossing her leg on top of the other one resting her hands.

“Oh, but there’s a rumor that rock stars get puss. You don’t have groupies all over you after shows. I’ve heard your name countless times, supposedly you're a pussy pleaser in the community. Opinions on that.” PJ added trying to stir up the pot for the episode. Y/n stared at PJ agape not believing the words that were slipping out of her mouth. Hazel let out a loud laugh, surprising the three of them.

“The question was if I was single, not how much I got laid. But I’m glad you’ve done your research. Not a lot of people mention my supposed pussy pleaser ways in interviews, which makes this one intriguing. So thank you for putting that out there” Hazel said sarcastically while attempting to hold in her laugh.

“Supposedly?” Y/n let out looking at Hazel slightly. She quickly gripped on her head regretting letting that slip noticing the cocky look on Y/n’s face.

“Well, I can’t confirm the rumors myself but if you want, we can test that theory.” Hazel replied, sending a wink towards Y/n direction. PJ gasped loudly hitting the table once again.

“You're good. Like a god, never have I seen Y/n this quiet. What is going on?” PJ said in between laughs while looking all around the set.

“I don’t want to be cocky but if we get past this pod, I’ll promise you she’ll be really vocal and loud. But that’s not important right now…How about you? Are you single Miss L/n? I want to know” Y/n looked up, her face completely flushed as Hazel grinned towards knowing the effect her words had on Y/n.

“What are you supposed to be?” Y/n said quickly trying to change the subject off her once again. Hazel looks down at her outfit trying to hide her smile while Josie instantly notices her discomfort so she takes the lead clearing her throat.

“What Y/n is trying to ask is, what is your costume? For all of you guys that don’t know we are in halloween. We have been doing different themes for each episode to dress up and all that. By the looks of it you’ve always dressed up. But if you do not dress up then I like your new style. It makes your eyes pop” So why don’t we go around the room and say what we are dressed up as. The theme this week is crush. It can be a fictional crush, celebrity crush, real crush, whatever crush you want. So I decided on dressing up as my lovely girlfriend, Isabel. My biggest crush in the whole world. Shout out to you, babe. She did my makeup and styled me this morning. Who’s next? ” Josie said as she pulled her flower dress down as PJ applauded obnoxiously loud making Y/n cringe one again. Hazel reached towards the water in front of her arms slowly grazing Y/n’s leg making her tense up once again.

“Y/n, why don’t you go? Who are you supposed to be, Anakin Skywalker?” PJ asked in a joking tone while turning towards her.

“First off all, Fuck you. Second of all I was told that our costume was going to be fictional characters not crushes.” Y/n started while fixing her robes. Josie chuckled, pulling out her phone to check the email while Pj shook her head.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. For you it’s the same person that’s why we didn’t tell you anything. We didn’t want you to be a more blushing mess than you already are. So don’t be such a puss and tell the camera who are you dressed up as” PJ continued pointing at the camera while Y/n rolled her eyes.

“I’m dressed up as Kit Tanthalos from Disney’s Willow” She muttered into the mic while glaring at PJ ignoring Hazel’s eyes.

“Wait isn’t that, Hazel's character in that show she’s in,” Josie started making Y/n groan throwing her head back clearly embarrassed.

“You know what I want to know, what the hell is PJ dressed up as. Who’s your crush” Y/n said quickly, making PJ look down at her shirt.

“I’m dressed as a Milf, obviously. I know Hazel being here has taken your common sense but we need you to be attentive. Now, Hazel. Who’s your celebrity crush?” PJ asked, turning to Hazel. Hazel smiled widely, turning to Y/n, not unlocking their eyes.

“Well, I decided to dress up as my favorite podcaster. I thought my outfit was pretty obvious.” Hazel said standing up, giving an awkward turn. Y/n could feel her face turn completely red noticing that her outfit mimicked one that was recently posted on her instagram story.

“You see guys, this is how we make love in this podcast. In the next episode we will probably talk about all the puss Y/n got.” PJ almost screamed into the mic.

...

Thank You Guys For Reading!

#hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan imagine #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #kit tanthalos x reader #kit tanthalos #save willow #willow #bottoms movie #pj bottoms #josie bottoms

680 notes · View notes

sattlersquarry · 8 months

Text

orange juice (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU) Steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you. He struggles to move on...but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you.

Word Count: ~8k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, death, grief, alcoholism, mentions of sex, mention of alcohol poisoning, and an allusion to a suicide attempt (in a miscommunication!!!! no one actually tried). the reader is presumed dead after the events of season 4. lots of angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending bc if I ever wrote something without a happy ending my identity has been stolen. inspired by "orange juice" by noah kahan with some other references to his music sprinkled throughout.

a/n: i've been bouncing between this and bloom for the past few months and they are two very different fics tonally, but i hope you enjoy. please let me know if i missed any warnings because this one is kind of heavy.

🍊🍊🍊

ORANGE JUICE

MAY 1986

A ringing phone rouses Steve from a restless sleep.

A near-empty bottle of gin rests on the floor by his bed. He doesn’t remember drinking it, nor does he remember anything else from last night.

It’s been two months since you died. Steve’s not taking it well.

That horrible day, Steve, Nancy, and Robin ran from the Creel House and found Eddie and Dustin sobbing over you, your eyes lifeless and the wounds on your abdomen weeping.

I’m so s-sorry, Steve, Dustin had said through sobs. W-we tried to save her!

An aftershock of the initial gate-opening earthquake caused panic amongst their group. Steve wanted to carry your body back to the real world for a proper burial, but there was no time before the aftershock got much too intense. Dustin and Robin refused to leave the Upside Down without him. He wasn’t going to let them get hurt, so despite the fact it broke his soul in half to do so, he allowed his friends to drag him back to the gate in the Upside Down’s version of the Munson trailer, leaving you behind.

When the dust settled and reality set in that Steve was going to have to move on without you, grief overtook him. He turned to alcohol as a welcome distraction. He’s been consistently ignoring Robin’s desperate pleas for him to talk to a professional, to drink less, to try and really process his pain.

Steve should listen, but he won’t. Instead, he’ll grieve. He’ll wallow. He’d rather wither away into nothing than work on bettering himself, because you died and that’s not fair. To you, to him. To everyone who loves you.

Steve groans, a deep rumbling thing from deep in chest, as he stretches and rubs sleep out of his eyes. He blindly reaches for the phone on his nightstand.

“Hello?” he mumbles.

“Steve, hey.”

Steve sits up like a rocket at the tremble in Robin’s voice.

“Robin? Is everything okay?”

“Uh, kind of. I mean, yes! But no. Sorry, I just—can you come to Hopper’s?”

“What is it?” Steve asks. He staggers to his feet, getting tangled in the phone cord. “Is it Vecna? Shit, who did he take?”

“No one!” Robin says, voice way too high to be believable. “Please just come over when you can.”

Steve drives over to their basecamp at Hopper’s cabin, a million bad scenarios racing through his head. What if Vecna cursed Dustin? Or Nancy, or any of the others?

What if somehow he got El, and the Hawkins’ team was really doomed?

It takes Steve almost forty minutes to get to Hopper’s, due to earthquake damage and military roadblocks all over town. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it swings open before he can.

Joyce smiles at him, but her eyes are mournful.

“Hi, Steve,” she says warmly. “Please, come inside.”

This isn’t what Steve expected. Hopper, El, Will, Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin are sitting on various chairs and couches in the cabin’s main room. Usually, it’s frantic around here: everyone running around with mixtapes, weapons, and crudely drawn maps of the town with markings where the most frequent monster attacks are. It’s never this still.

When Steve and Joyce walk in, everyone looks at him, sympathy in their eyes.

Steve’s first thought: Shit, is this an intervention?

Before he can ask, Hopper says: “The gates are closed, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth twists into a frown, heart pounding in his chest. That wasn’t the plan.

“Wait, what? How?”

“We’re not sure,” Joyce says. “But Will—”

“I can’t feel Vecna anymore,” Will explains. “And El checked this morning, and she found Vecna in the Void and…”

“He’s gone,” El says quietly. “Dead. Finally.”

Steve sinks onto a couch cushion. That should be good news. Steve should be celebrating, toasting to the death of the bastard that ruined his life and took you away by way of the demobats. But—

“We were supposed to go back,” Steve says. The back of his throat burns when he swallows hard, trying to choke down the sensation of nausea that’s either from his hangover or his panic. Or both. “We were going to go back and get Y/N’s body.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Jonathan says, looking down at his feet.

Steve whirls to Hopper, eyes blazing with a flash of anger that never seems to leave him these days.

“You promised!” he yells. “You promised that we’d go back for her!”

“I know,” Hopper says, keeping his voice even. “But something—or someone—killed Vecna in the Upside Down and the gates closed. The fight is done. It’s over.”

Steve’s lip wobbles. He won’t cry in front of them. He won’t. But his head spins.

“What am I going to tell her parents?” Steve says, voice cracking.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Steve,” Nancy says. She reaches a hand to touch his shoulder and Steve bats it away. “Steve—”

“This is such bullshit,” Steve snaps, turning to Hopper again. “If you had let me go back down there before, I could have brought her body back. We could’ve given her a proper funeral. Given her parents closure! But you made me wait!”

“It was the right choice,” Hopper says firmly. “I didn’t want to invoke another Vecna attack on Hawkins until we were ready to fight.”

“Maybe there’s a gate that we missed and—”

“We checked the gates this morning,” Robin says softly. “They’re all closed.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Joyce says. “But it’s over.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. He storms out of the cabin, ignoring Robin’s pleas to come back, to not be alone right now. Steve drives back home, not without stopping at the liquor store first and loading up on various spirits to numb the pain.

Over the next week, you go from declared missing to officially declared dead. Steve can’t let on to your parents that he had known for months, and Hopper doesn’t want him to tell them the truth about Vecna, demobats, and the Upside Down. It kills Steve to lie to their faces, to attend the funeral where they bury an empty casket, knowing what he knows. Knowing that your body is trapped in another dimension. Dead and alone.

🍊🍊🍊

NOVEMBER 1986

“Y/N wouldn’t want this.”

Robin’s words echo in Steve’s mind hours after she’s fallen asleep in the uncomfortable armchair next to his hospital bed.

An overindulgence forced Steve to spend his Thanksgiving in a hospital—not that he had any plans with his family to get ruined anyway. Although he had been invited to Thanksgiving with the Buckleys, Wheelers, Hopper-Byerses, Sinclairs, Hendersons, Mayfields, and Munsons, Steve declined every invitation. He resigned himself to a holiday alone without you, got heavy handed with a bottle of whiskey, and passed out in the neighbor’s lawn.

When he awoke, he was in the hospital. Joyce and Robin were there, the former fretting over him and the latter chewing him out for being such a dingus and scaring her so badly on a holiday.

Like a broken record in his head of the worst song Steve’s ever heard: Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this.

Robin didn’t say it to be mean. She said it to get him to wake up. To cool it with the drinking, because if he kept going at the rate he was going, he’d meet a worse fate than a pumped stomach.

Joyce quietly reenters the room and smiles.

“Oh, you’re still up!” she says. “I thought for sure you’d try to get some sleep.”

Steve shrugs.

“I can’t stop thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up.”

Joyce settles on the chair next to Robin’s, ignoring the sleeping girl’s loud snores.

“When I can’t stop replaying the past in my mind,” Joyce says, “I try to think about my future instead. What are my aspirations and goals? What can I do differently to achieve them?”

Steve chews his bottom lip.

“Is it bad if I have no goals?” he says, feeling quite sorry for himself.

“Why do you think that is?” Joyce asks gently.

Steve shrugs again, before rubbing his eyes.

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve spent the past 3 years on edge thinking I’m going to get killed at any minute?”

Steve barks out a hollow laugh. “Or maybe it’s because 2 years ago I met someone who turned my life completely around, and she did get killed, and I wasn’t there to save her or be with her when she died. And I couldn’t give her or her parents a proper end and every time I close my eyes, I see her laying there. And I don’t know what my future looks like without her. I don’t even think I want one.”

Steve hates crying in front of other people. But when Joyce wraps an arm around his shoulders, he breaks down.

“It’s going to be all right, Steve,” she says. She squeezes him a little tighter. “I know it’s hard moving on from loss, but you do have a future. You have so many people that love you and are going to help you figure it out. And Y/N would want you to keep going. She’d want you to go off and do wonderful things.”

Joyce was right. If roles were reversed, Steve would want you to keep going without him. Not waste away and drink yourself into a coma.

Steve’s life is changing. And despite everything, things might be looking up.

🍊🍊🍊

FEBRUARY 1987

There is a beautiful girl in Steve’s bed and she’s touching him all the ways he likes to be touched—but he can’t even enjoy it because she’s not you.

He tries to clear his mind of all distraction. The girl with him—Molly—is very, very hot. And the feeling of her hands all over him should be sufficient to keep him focused on the moment. But his mind keeps wandering to you.

You were the last person he was truly intimate with. Sure, he’s kissed girls at parties. But that’s different than what’s happening now. Different than being in bed with Molly and her wandering hands, her gentle touches, her salacious whispers.

Steve thinks maybe he’s finally done it. Found a girl that can help him move on from you, the girl to help him feel whole again. To not feel so alone.

But then, overcome with sensation, Steve makes the worst possible faux pas in bed: he moans the wrong name.

Molly ceases kissing him.

“What did you just call me?” she asks, sitting up suddenly with narrowed eyes.

Steve sits up as well, resting against his headboard and floundering for a response that won’t make him sound like a douchebag.

“I just, uh, well—”

“Who is she?” Molly asks. She widens her eyes in horror. “Oh my god, are you seeing someone else? Am I ‘the other woman’?!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Steve rushes to assure her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just got caught up in the moment.”

“Caught up in the moment thinking of someone else when I was about to blow you!” Molly snaps. She stomps off the bed and grumbles as she pulls her jeans and sweatshirt back on.

“Wait, hold on!” Steve says. He struggles to put a pair of sweatpants on, hopping around frantically one-footed to pull them up as Molly grabs her purse and yanks open Steve’s bedroom door. “Please don’t leave, Y/N—ah, Molly!”

“Unbelievable!” Molly scoffs as she stomps down the staircase of the townhome Steve shares with three other students at the University of Indiana.

Molly gets to the front door but stops, whipping around to face Steve as he catches up to her.

“Who is she?” she demands. “An ex-girlfriend?”

“In a sense, yeah, but—”

“If you’re still so hung up on her, maybe you should ask her to blow you instead!”

Steve thinks about being an asshole. About letting the anger that simmers in his bloodstream 24/7 rear its ugly head. About snapping at Molly, telling her that yeah, totally, he’d love to get a blowjob from a corpse stuck in an alternate dimension.

But then Molly would feel bad and give him the pitying look Steve hates. So instead, he says, “Yeah, I’ll do that. See you in class.”

Molly huffs before giving Steve’s cheek a sharp smack! He doesn’t wince. Upset at his lack of reaction, Molly storms out.

Just as well. Remembering how the love of his life is dead is a real mood killer.

Steve rubs his forehead and heads to the kitchen. He eyes the six pack in the fridge. He hasn’t touched alcohol in three months. The temptation causes his hand to graze a beer can, but he quickly pivots to a cartoon of orange juice.

He chugs the drink before stalking up the steps to his room. Steve drops to his knees and blindly reaches in the dusty space under his bed. He grips the corner of a box and drags it to the middle of the floor.

Once opened, two black button eyes stare back up at Steve. It’s Lambchop, a stuffed animal lamb that your parents gave him. After your parents held a small funeral and buried that empty casket, they gave Steve this box of your things.

Lambchop here was her favorite toy, your mother had said at the time, eyes glistening with tears. She always hoped to pass it on to her own children one day. I think she’d want you to have it.

Steve thanked your mother and father, gave his condolences, went home, drank enough whiskey to fell a horse, and passed out.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Steve climbs onto the bed and places the lamb on the pillow next to him. It’s one of few connections to you that he has left, so he’ll cherish it, even if it’s a little silly.

What Steve doesn’t realize is that in another dimension, the very person he’s yearning for lays in the version of her bedroom created by the Upside Down, holds a dirty version of Lambchop, and yearns for Steve right back.

🍊🍊🍊

MAY 1987

You and Steve used to have your futures mapped out: start at U of I together in fall of ’86. Move in together after your freshman year of college. Get engaged by fall of ’89, married in fall of ’90, and have two kids by ’95. Spend the rest of your lives together, happy and healthy, with the horrors of Hawkins far behind you.

That was before Steve’s world changed in the worst way. Before you died in the Upside Down, when you drew the bats away from the gate. You were a hero, trying to keep them from flying into your version of Hawkins and destroying it.

Steve struggled for a long time. He’s still struggling, but in a slightly better place.

He’s sober six months now. He thinks of you often, but he tries to focus less on how he desperately misses you and more on how you wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life miserable and drunk.

But he does miss you so, so desperately. And he would give anything to have you back.

It hurts being reminded of you, so Steve stays away from Hawkins. But he can’t say no when Mrs. Henderson invites him to Dustin’s sweet sixteen birthday party, so he makes the trek back.

“Steve!” Mrs. Henderson coos, opening the front door with a beaming smile. “Welcome!”

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve says. She pulls him into a hug and he adds, “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s so lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Henderson says. She leads Steve through the house. “Please, come in! You can put Dusty-Bun’s gift on the dining room table. I have strawberry wine in the kitchen—ah, and orange juice, or lemonade. It’s yours if you want it!”

Mrs. Henderson pivoted to juice awfully fast. She must have found out about Steve’s Thanksgiving Break bender. Steve tamps down the feeling of shame worming its way through his mind and body, instead offering her another small smile before turning to the dining room to drop off Dustin’s gift.

Dustin and the rest of the Hellfire Club are in the den, playing a one-shot campaign that Eddie planned. When Dustin sees Steve, his face lights up.

“Steve! You made it!” he says, rushing over and giving him a bear hug.

“Hey buddy,” Steve says, hugging him back. “Happy birthday, Henderson.”

Dustin grins, and it lifts Steve’s mood immensely.

Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, and Erica greet him next, along with Eddie and his Corroded Coffin buddies. Eddie can barely look Steve in the eye, guilt from not being able to save you eating away at him. Steve’s told him multiple times not to feel bad about it—he knows Eddie and Dustin tried their best.

“Want to join the campaign?” Dustin asks Steve.

“Oh, I don’t know how to play,” Steve says. “I’ll just watch, okay bud?”

A short while later, Robin arrives. Once the campaign ends, Mrs. Henderson brings out the cake, and then gifts are opened.

“He looks really happy, huh?” Robin whispers to Steve, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Steve nods with a smile. Dustin took your death really hard—the two of you had been close ever since you helped him, Steve, Lucas, and Max fight the demodogs in the junkyard. Seeing Dustin smiling and laughing with his closest friends on his birthday makes Steve really, really happy.

Still, Steve’s heart aches. You should be here. You should be smiling as Dustin opens his gifts. You should be getting cake frosting on your nose, playing along with the campaign although you have no clue what’s going on.

Ice grips Steve’s chest. He gets a flashback of you lying on the cold ground, unmoving, and—

“You okay?” Robin whispers, brow furrowed. How the hell can she tell that he’s upset? It’s frightening how observant she is.

“Fine,” Steve says, throat tightening. He’s not. But he isn’t going to let his grief ruin Dustin’s big day.

At the end of the night, Dustin asks Steve when he’ll be back to visit again.

“My summer classes end in August,” Steve says. “I’ll come by then. Maybe we can hit the pool?”

Dustin seems disappointed that it’ll be a while before he sees Steve again, but he doesn’t push.

However, Steve ends up coming back to Hawkins much sooner. Three weeks after Dustin’s birthday party, Eleven calls Steve and tells him something that makes his heart stop:

“Steve, it’s about Y/N.”

🍊🍊🍊

Steve is a frantic mess.

He sits in the Byers-Hopper basement, knee bouncing as he intently watches El try to find you in the Void again.

El had told him that she’d sometimes look for you in the Void, hoping to give him some semblance of closure. However, she claims that a few hours ago, she finally found you for the first time and saw you not as a corpse, but fully alive. It’s a hope that Steve didn’t dare hold onto before, not until now.

As soon as she called, Steve got in his car and drove to Hawkins, going ten over the speed limit the whole time. He picked up Robin and Nancy along the way to El, Will, and Jonathan’s, and (unfortunately) Mike tagged along.

“Do you see her?” Steve asks, voice cracking.

“No talking, please,” El says, tightening her blindfold.

Steve purses his lips. Will gives him an apologetic smile and Robin squeezes his arm to offer a semblance of comfort. Jonathan looks between Steve and El, an uneasy expression on his face.

“I see her,” El whispers after a few minutes.

Nancy gasps. Mike’s eyes widen. Steve staggers to his feet.

“She’s okay?” Steve asks. “Where is she?!”

“I can’t tell,” El says. “But she’s holding a small, white fuzzy animal. Wait, is it dead?”

“Lambchop,” Steve says.

“Come again?” Nancy asks.

“Lambchop is her favorite stuffed animal,” Steve explains. His heart pounds in his chest at the realization that holy shit, you really are alive. “She must be in the Upside Down version of her house.”

“Y/N!” El calls. “Y/N!”

After a few more minutes of calling to you, El pulls off the blindfold and wipes her nosebleed away.

“She can’t hear me,” El says with a sigh.

“Maybe because the gates are closed,” Nancy offers.

“But if you open another gate,” Steve says, “we can get back through and find her. Right?”

“Hold on a minute,” Jonathan says, holding a hand up like a traffic cop. “Is that such a good idea?”

Steve narrows his eyes.

“Is it such a good idea to save my girlfriend’s life? Yeah, I think so, Byers.”

“Steve,” Robin whispers. “It’s okay. Just relax.”

“Relax?” Steve says, voice rising in volume with every word. “Relax?! You want me to relax? What about this fucked-up situation is relaxing! My girlfriend has been stuck in literal hell for over a fucking year! We’re going to rescue her, no matter what!”

“But opening a new gate could have major repercussions!” Mike protests.

“Screw the repercussions,” Steve snaps, glowering. “We can’t just leave Y/N down there to rot!”

“None of us want to do that, Steve,” Nancy says, keeping her voice level and calm. “But what if this is a trick from Vecna?”

“It’s not,” Will says. “If it was, I would feel his presence. I don’t anymore.”

“Boom!” Robin says, snapping her fingers. “If our human monster detector doesn’t sense any bad vibes, then we should be good to proceed.”

“Maybe we should ask El what she wants to do before we make any plans to open new gates,” Jonathan points out.

“Exactly,” Mike says. “El, what do you want to do?”

El looks down at her lap, before looking up. She locks eyes with Steve.

“I’ll do it. I’ll open the gate.”

Relief floods Steve’s whole being. He feels lighter. More hopeful than he has in a long time. But it all comes crashing down when—

“That’s not happening.”

The group turns to see Hopper and Joyce on the basement steps. Joyce looks worried, face twisted into a frown. Hopper looks angry, with his brow furrowed.

“But Dad—” El says.

“No buts,” Hopper says. “You are forbidden to open a new gate. You hear me?”

Joyce places a hand on her husband’s shoulder and says, “Now, Hop…”

Steve interrupts, walking over to the older man with a wild, panicked look in his eyes. “Hopper, please. Y/N is still alive in the Upside Down. We just need one gate so I can go through and bring her back. Please.” Hopper fixes Steve with a sorrowful stare, the smallest bit of guilt etched on his features. Still, he remains steadfast.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper says. “I’m not putting my daughter at risk. She won’t do it.”

El, Robin, and Will all try to convince Hopper otherwise, their arguments overlapping into a cacophony. Nancy, Mike, and Jonathan share uneasy looks.

Steve can’t listen to this anymore. He quietly excuses himself, darting past Hopper up the steps and stepping into the backyard.

He sinks on the porch stoop and stares off into the quiet, cool night. He understands Hopper’s reasoning, but he doesn’t have to like it. He’s spent over a year mourning you, only to discover he might be able to get you back—for that hope to be dashed as quickly as it blossomed.

Steve picks a point in the tree line and focuses on it, putting all his energy into watching it so he doesn’t break down or cause any more of a scene than he already has.

He hears the squeak of the back door and Robin’s tentative, “Hey, how you doing?”

Steve shrugs absentmindedly, continuing to stare. Robin lowers herself onto the stoop next to him.

For a few blissful minutes, she doesn’t speak. She just rests her head on his shoulder and lets him stew in silence.

The spell is broken when she blurts out, “You’re not going to break your sobriety, are you?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin,” Steve grumbles, nudging her slightly so she’ll sit up. “You don’t have to ask that every time I’m in a bad mood.”

“Sorry,” she says. She picks at her fingernails. “Sorry. I just worry about you, you know?”

“I know,” Steve says softly. “I worry about you too.”

“Me?” Robin says. “No, no. I’m fine.”

Steve eyes the way her hands fidget. Before he can say anything, she blurts out, “I just don’t want a repeat of Thanksgiving. I mean, you almost died of alcohol poisoning. They pumped your stomach!”

“I know. I was there.”

“No!” Robin snaps, sounding awfully harsh despite the tears welling in her eyes. It breaks Steve’s heart to see. “You were unconscious! And it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, including all the torture and monsters, because I thought I was going to lose another best friend. I already lost Y/N. I can’t lose you too.”

She sniffles and Steve pulls her in for a hug. He can’t stop a few stray tears from falling down his own face as well.

“You won’t lose me,” Steve says, voice thick. “I promise, Robin. I’m not going to do that again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles, hugging him tighter. “I love you, dingus.”

“I love you, Rob.”

“That’s not fair,” Robin says, pulling away and wiping her tears on her sleeve. “You have to call me a mean nickname back or I just look like an asshole.”

Steve barks out a laugh and shakes his head.

“You are an asshole.”

“Perfect,” Robin says with a small smile. “Now we’re equally jerks. Just the way I like it.”

The back door opens and Will steps out.

“Hopper changed his mind!” he says with a grin.

Hope pumps like blood through Steve’s cold, shrunken heart. He’s going to see you again. Fuck, he’s going to see you again.

🍊🍊🍊

The next day, the group stands in the basement once more, this time making their plan for a rescue mission. Mike squealed to Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, and Max about what’s going on, and they all showed up wanting to help too.

“Not happening!” Hopper barks, a fierce look on his face. “New rule: you have to be 18 to come along.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, thrilled that he gets to come and try to make things right after losing you the first time. The younger teens grumble.

“But El is going!” Dustin complains.

“El is going to stay in the Lab with Joyce,” Hopper says. “She’ll open the gate for us and wait.”

“I can keep the gate open for one hour,” El says.

“That’s plenty of time to find Y/N!” Robin says brightly. “We already know she’s probably at her house.”

“And she lives close to Hawkins Lab,” Jonathan says, pointing to a map of Hawkins. “So we’ll be in and out.”

“It’ll be easy!” Eddie says.

“Don’t jinx it,” Hopper warns.

Nancy turns to Steve and pats his shoulder.

“You feeling good about this?” she asks quietly.

He nods. Although, truthfully, he’s terrified. If they come all this way, only for him to lose you again…he’s not sure he’d be able to handle that.

🍊🍊🍊

The Upside Down is not what Steve remembers.

The alternate dimension used to be dank and cold, like an endless winter’s night. Now with Vecna gone, it’s brighter, with a yellow sky and actual green foliage, not the moldy, dry shit from before. It seems less dangerous than last time.

No matter how much it’s changed, the thought that you’ve been here alone for over a year makes Steve’s blood run ice cold.

“This way!” Hopper barks, tracing his finger on his map of Hawkins and leading the group toward your house.

Jonathan and Nancy walk side-by-side with Hopper, glancing around at the tree lines constantly for any sign of danger. Eddie and Robin hang back, Steve walking slightly in front of them. He hears them whispering about something, but when he turns his head to try and listen, they quiet down.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what they’re worrying about: if they can’t find you, will Steve have another breakdown? Go on another bender? Would Steve even survive it?

Steve’s been wondering the same things himself. But for now, he stays positive, his optimism increasing tenfold when the six of them turn onto your street.

He can’t help but pick up speed, jogging past Hopper and causing the older man to snap, “Hey, stay behind me!”

Steve ignores his protests, shouting your name and pushing through the front door of your house.

He’s been here many, many times. He’s walked the pathway from your front door to your bedroom over and over again. Steve walks that path for the first time in over a year, charging up the steps and tuning out the concerned warnings from his friends.

He bursts into your bedroom, calling your name. He doesn’t see you, but maybe you hid when you heard the front door open. So he checks the closet, the ensuite bathroom, under the bed, to no avail.

Steve’s eyes sweep the space for any clues of your whereabouts. Most of the room seems untouched, except for your bed, where the sheets are rumpled and a grimy Lambchop the Stuffed Lamb sits primly on your pillow with her soft hooves crossed over her lap.

Steve picks up the toy, heart stuttering at the sight. You were sleeping here last night. You must have been. But where are you now?

“Steve!” Robin calls from down the hall, bringing him back to the present. “We found something!”

Steve gently places Lambchop back on the pillow—arranging her the way you always do, because anything else seems disrespectful—and heads back downstairs.

Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin are crowded around the kitchen table. On it is a sheet of paper with a rudimentary sketch of the town.

“Check it out,” Jonathan says. He traces his finger across the drawn lines. “It’s a record of where the gates originally opened.”

Sure enough, there are big stars drawn over Hawkins Lab, Eddie’s trailer, the road by the trailer park, Lover’s Lake, and the Creel House.

“That’s why she’s not here,” Nancy says. “She’s out searching for an opening.”

“We don’t have long,” Hopper barks, glancing at his watch with a grimace. “El can only keep the gate open for an hour. We have forty-one minutes to get back to the Lab.”

“We could split off into teams,” Nancy says. “Jonathan and I can go to Lover’s Lake.”

“Steve and I will hit the trailer park and the highway,” Robin adds. “Eddie and Hop, you can go to the Creel House.”

“We find Y/N,” Hopper says, “and we head back to the Lab. No wasting time. We move fast, we stay vigilant. Got it?”

The younger adults all nod and agree to stay on their walkies in case anyone needs to get in touch. Then, they split off to their destinations.

As Steve and Robin sprint toward the trailer park, Steve can’t stop panic from enveloping him head to toe. What if they’re too late? What if you’re dead—again? What if you don’t remember him somehow. What if—

“Look!” Robin says, throwing out an arm to stop Steve in his tracks. He skids to a stop and sees where she’s pointing.

Behind the closed curtains of the Munson trailer is the beam of a flashlight moving around. Steve’s heartbeat quickens.

“Okay,” she whispers as the duo slinks toward the trailer. “We need to think about this carefully, and make a plan to—wait, Steve!”

He charges into the trailer.

A figure flinches and whips around, hunting knife raised. Steve almost falls to his knees in shock at the sight. It’s really happening.

“Steve?” you whisper, voice cracking. He stands in front of you, hands raised and eyes flicking between your face and your knife. The corners of his eyes burn, tears starting to form.

He says your name, and the look on your face cracks his heart into seventeen pieces. He starts to step toward you, but—

“You’re not real,” you say quietly. “You can’t be.”

“No, I’m real!” Steve says. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s Steve. We’re here to take you home.”

You step back, still pointing your weapon at him.

“Don’t come any closer!” you shout.

“Okay, okay!” Steve says. He steps back, slowly.

“Steve!” Robin shouts from outside. “What’s going on in—”

“Stay outside, Robin!” Steve yells, voice wavering as he eyes your knife.

“But—”

Steve swiftly locks the trailer door without turning away from you.

The two of you ignore Robin’s knocks and protests. Eventually, she gives up, and Steve hears the crackle of her walkie-talkie.

“You can’t be Steve,” you say, shaking your head frantically.

“I am,” Steve begs. “And I’ve missed you so much—”

“You can’t be Steve because there’s no way into the Upside Down!” you say. He notices your arm start to shake. “Trust me, I’ve checked and checked and checked and there’s no gates anymore. And since my Steve isn’t a corpse at the Creel House, I know Vecna didn’t kill him and he’s back in the real world. If you’re not Steve, who the hell are you?”

Steve swallows hard. The back of his throat tastes acidic and he feels desperation wrench its way through every cell in his body. When he imagined his reunion with you, he didn’t anticipate this conversation.

“El reopened a gate for us,” Steve explains patiently. “We thought you were dead. But El looked for you and saw you were still alive, so we came to rescue you.” He glances at his watch and his brows furrow. “But we don’t have a lot of time. We need to head back to the Lab because she can’t keep it open forever.”

“How can I trust you?” you say. “How do I know you aren’t a trick?!”

“I’m really me, I promise,” Steve says. He hesitates before stepping closer to you once more. This time, you don’t move away. “We’re safe now, because Vecna’s dead.”

“I know. I killed him.”

Steve’s eyes widen a fraction.

“You what?”

“I had to,” you say. You shrug and look a little delirious. How much sleep have you gotten in the last year, Steve wonders. “Vecna brought me back. He would've flayed me and sent me to spy on and kill all of you if I didn’t kill him first.”

Steve almost falls over. The haunting fact that you had to fight Vecna alone makes his stomach turn.

The pained look on Steve’s face seems to shake something deep down in you. Any resolve you had crumbles. You heave out a sob, dropping the knife to the ground. Your knees buckle.

In seconds, Steve wraps you in his arms as you sink to the ground.

You cry, limp in his hold. Steve cries too, choking on encouraging words and apologies and everything he’s wanted to say to you since March 1986, when he thought he’d never speak to you again.

The door rattles. You startle and Steve holds you a little tighter.

“HARRINGTON!” Hopper barks. “Get a move on!”

“We have to go,” Steve says, urgent yet gentle. “We can talk more when we’re home. Okay?”

You nod, standing on unsteady legs.

Steve squeezes your hand before leading you out the door.

The whole rescue squad is out there, and you look wholly overwhelmed at seeing everyone after so long alone.

“No time for pleasantries,” Hopper says. “We’ve got less than twenty minutes to get through that gate.”

“Or it’s a slumber party at Y/N’s,” Eddie jokes. He playfully knocks his shoulder against yours and you gasp at the sudden contact. “Oh, sorry—”

“RUN!” Hopper yells, clapping his hands.

Everyone bolts toward the Lab. Steve and you run side-by-side, hands intertwined.

Shock envelops Steve’s senses, but he keeps running. The one thing racing through his mind is to get you back to safety.

The Lab’s gate is not the gaping maw it once was. It’s about the height of a minivan door, but its width is quite smaller—and slowly but surely shrinking.

El and Joyce stand on the gate’s other side, looking relieved to see everyone.

“Hurry!” Joyce says, waving you forward first. You hesitate, but Steve says, “We’re right behind you. Go on.”

You crawl through the gate and stumble to your feet on the right side of the universe. Steve would normally let everyone else go in front of him, but he wastes no time following behind you. Next comes Robin, then Jonathan and Nancy. Eddie and Hopper bring up the rear.

As soon as Hopper’s crawled through the gate, El drops her hand and it sews itself up—for the final time.

Steve and the others swarm you, all speaking too fast and asking a million questions. Joyce opens a first-aid kid and tries to sit you down and asses your various cuts and bruises. They hurt Steve to see.

“Look at her! She needs more than bandaids and alcohol wipes,” Eddie says, nodding in your direction.

“He’s right,” Jonathan says. “Mom, we need to take her to the hospital—”

“No!” you say. You stumble toward the staircase. “I need to go home. I need to see my parents, let them know I’m alive. How long have I been down there? I’ve been keeping track, and it has to be at least ten weeks, right?”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. You look at him, eyes wild. “Y/N,” he says softly, “it’s been 15 months.”

That seems to be your final straw. Steve catches you as you pass out.

🍊🍊🍊

SIX HOURS LATER

While you get checked over by Dr. Owens and his people, Steve paces the hospital waiting room. Robin chews her thumbnail and watches the doors to the ER. Nancy and Jonathan bend their heads together and whisper, and Eddie attempts to distract Dustin and the other teenagers by juggling snacks from the vending machine.

After you fainted, Steve didn’t want to leave your side, but Hopper said everyone except himself and Joyce had to go home.

If our entire merry band shows up at Hawkins Mercy Hospital with a presumed-dead girl, it’ll look too damn suspicious, Hopper had said. Go home. Clean up. Wait three hours, and then you can come check on her. We’ll keep you updated.

In exactly 180 minutes, Steve and the others charge into the ER asking the nurse on duty about you.

“She’s still being looked over,” the nurse tells them. “Her parents and the Chief are with her now. You can wait over there and we’ll call you when she’s able to have visitors.”

Another 180 minutes go by. Now, everyone’s getting antsy. Steve has half a mind to charge into the ER and find you himself.

“Simmer down, Steve,” Robin says, noticing the way he’s squeezing the lilac teddy bear he bought you at the gift shop. “You’re choking the life out of that thing.”

“Why haven’t we heard anything from Hopper?” Steve asks. He checks his pager for the fiftieth time. “He said he’d keep us updated.”

“She’s probably going through a psych eval or something,” Max says.

“Or an interrogation,” Mike says darkly. “Maybe they think she had something to do with the murders last year.”

“Shut up, Mike!” Nancy hisses.

Steve curses and pinches his nose. Last year, a cruel man named Colonel Sullivan swept into Hawkins, searching for the real culprit behind Vecna’s kills after Eddie was proven innocent (thanks to a bogus alibi cooked up by Owens’ team). Steve was one of the unlucky few questioned, due to his connection as Jason’s former basketball captain. The thought of you, disoriented from so long in that shithole, handcuffed to a hospital bed while Sullivan grills you makes him see red.

Another sinking realization hits Steve: he’s changed since last year. What if you don’t like him anymore, once you realize how much of a mess he became when he lost you?

Hopper emerges through a set of double doors. Steve’s charging over to him in seconds, the rest of his friends piling behind and all talking at once.

Hopper holds up his hands to silence the group.

“Owens wants to run some more tests,” Hopper says. “They’re checking for contaminants in her bloodstream. You all can see her soon.”

He points at Steve. “Except she’s asking for you right now. You ready?”

Steve nods and squeezes your new teddy bear again. He gives Robin a panicked look, and she gives him a quick hug.

“Go get her,” Robin says with an encouraging smile.

Steve smiles back before following Hopper down the hall. Joyce stands outside your hospital room and smiles when she sees Hopper and Steve approach. Steve freezes.

Through the plane of glass in the door, he sees you with your parents. All three of you are crying.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” Steve says, backing away from the door. Before he can fully chicken out, Hopper bursts in and says, “Hey, look who came by.”

You and your parents look up. At the sight of him, your mother and father beam.

“Hello, Steve!” your mother says, sweeping him into a hug. “Can you believe she’s back?!”

“It’s a goddamn miracle,” your dad says, wiping tears on his sleeve. “We’ve been praying for this for so long.”

“Let’s leave these two alone to catch up,” Joyce says. “Grace, Roger, why don’t we pick up some food for Y/N?”

Your parents agree and step out with Joyce and Hopper. When it’s just you and Steve, all either of you can do is stare at each other with awkward smiles.

You clear your throat and point to the teddy bear.

“Is that little guy for me?”

“Yes!” Steve says. “Uh, sorry.”

He hands it to you. When your fingers brush, it feels electric. Still, after so long apart—no matter how much he’s dreamed of what it would be like if he somehow saw you again—everything feels stiff. You’re the love of his life and he can’t think of one thing to say.

“How have you been?” you ask quietly, seemingly just as uncomfortable as Steve.

Steve can’t help but laugh and says, “Terrible. I mean, shit. I know what you went through is way worse—”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you say sharply. Steve recoils and you wince. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just—I’ve been through this like five times with Owens’ guys, and over a cover story two more times with the cops. I don’t want to talk about me. I want to hear about you. What’s been going on?”

Steve wants to know more about what happened. About how you killed Vecna. About how you survived. But he doesn’t. He would never push you to discuss anything you didn’t want to, but he hopes that one day you’ll feel ready to open up to him.

Right now, you want to hear about his life. Where to begin. Steve thinks of sugar-coating the truth but doesn’t when he admits: “For starters, I almost died last year.”

You gasp and sit up a little straighter.

“What? Oh my god, what happened?”

“I’m fine now,” Steve says, waving away your concerns.

“Was it Vecna?”

“No, nothing like that. I really missed you, and I was in a bad place.”

You swallow hard, eyes turning glassy.

“Oh, Steve. Please don’t tell me you tried to—”

“No!” he says quickly. “It was alcohol poisoning. I drank too much being too lonely on Thanksgiving. Had to get my stomach pumped. It wasn’t all bad, though. Robin and I watched ‘A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving’ on the hospital room TV and Joyce snuck in some pie for me.”

You ignore his attempts and lightening the mood and wave him even closer to you. He cautiously approaches and intertwines your fingers when you reach for his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I feel like it’s my fault—”

“Stop it.”

“Steve…”

“No!” Steve says. He shakes his head vehemently. “Don’t think like that. I just…struggled without you. But it’s not your fault that I’m a basket case.”

“You’re not a basket case,” you say. You squeeze his hand. “You’re the hero that crossed dimensions to come rescue me.”

You kiss his palm before scooching over on the hospital bed. You pat the spot next to you.

“What if your parents come back?” Steve asks.

“I’m not trying to hook up right now,” you say with an eye roll. “I just want you to lay with me.”

Steve is happy to oblige. He settles next to you. You rest your head on his shoulder and hug the teddy bear he brought you.

“So, you didn’t move on?” you ask quietly after a few minutes of peaceful silence. “Find a new girlfriend?”

“What?!” Steve asks, looking down at you, jaw dropped. “You really think I found someone else?”

You nod, fidgeting with the bow around your bear’s neck.

“15 months is a long time,” you whisper. “I don’t want to stand in the way if you're with someone else.”

“I couldn’t,” Steve says. He rests a hand on your knee cautiously. When you don’t flinch or move away, he keeps it there. “Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I only want you, if you’ll still have me.”

You look up at him, noses practically brushing. The close proximity makes Steve’s cheeks flush rosy pink.

“You mean that?” you ask.

Steve nods. It seems to placate you, because in seconds, you’re lifting your chin to kiss him.

It’s a soft, gentle thing. An innocent brush of lips, like the kisses you shared very early in your relationship. Not the passionate “welcome home” kiss that Steve wants to give you, but he understands if you need to take things slow. He’ll move as slow as you need.

For the first time in months, Steve feels hopeful about his future again. Steve’s world is changing once more, in all the right ways.

🍊🍊🍊

EPILOGUE

You and Steve have your futures mapped out: after six months of physical and emotional healing, move in with Steve and join him at U of I in spring of ’88. Get engaged and subsequently married sometime within five years. No kids—at least, not biological ones, because your time in the Upside Down has caused lasting physiological effects that you don’t want to pass on to children. Maybe you’ll adopt a kid, or some dogs.

It's less of a map and more of an amorphous outline of what you two want to happen. All you two know for sure is that you never want to be apart that long ever again.

Steve’s heart and soul have changed, but they belong to you, and yours to him. Always.

🍊🍊🍊

a/n please lmk what you thought 🧡

tag list; @hollandweather @starry-eyed-steve @aloneinthehellfire @tvandfanfic @a-dealwith-god @stevebabey @keerysquinn @spoookysix @inkluvs

#st fic: oj #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic

619 notes · View notes

ghostheartfelt · 9 months

Note

Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another.

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives.

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours.

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest.

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat.

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.”

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart.

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver.

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes.

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours.

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this.

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home.

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.”

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days.

All you do is work, eat, and sleep.

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably.

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell.

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you.

“There’s someone else.” His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off.

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog.

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up.

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately.

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now.

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face.

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you.

You just wanted him home.

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore.

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind.

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away.

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest.

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door.

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water.

She’s showering.

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside.

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice.

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs.

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation.

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine.

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table.

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly.

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs.

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles.

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs.

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice.

“Does wh–”

“Does she know you are here, Simon.”

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together.

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern.

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed.

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains.

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head.

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance.

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…”

“Please…never do that again.”

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs.

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent.

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt.

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed.

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud.

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?”

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you.

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you.

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger.

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck.

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin.

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.”

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists.

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…”

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.”

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.”

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you.

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.”

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs.

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him.

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…”

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind.

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?”

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.”

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge.

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted.

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…”

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion.

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.

#ghostheartfelt #ghostheartfelt writing #simon ghost x reader #mw2 smut #ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghostheartfelt ;; 👻#ghostheartfelt writing ;; 👻

697 notes · View notes

stylesharrys · 1 year

Text

mr romantic [fratrry]

summary: harry's never been a romantic, but if there's one thing he's good at, it's sex.

word count: 2,260

warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; fingering, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex.

a/n: umm it's been a hot fucking minute since I last wrote anything remotely smutty, and I've really been in my smutty daze feels so I'm hoping to pump out as much stuff for you guys as possible bc pregnancy hormones are crazy and idk when I'll next get a smutty surge hahaha. anyway, enjoy!

Nothing is ever innocent with Harry, you should’ve learnt your lesson by now. He never just comes over to help you study, or watch a movie. So why did you think tonight would be any different?

Maybe you just hoped your boyfriend would be a little more spontaneous in the romantic sense. Because he is spontaneous, absolutely. But you’re not sure Harry has a single romantic bone in his body.

And if he does, he doesn’t seem to have any need nor want to show it.

You don’t want to complain about him, not in the slightest — because he does make you happy, and you do love him with every ounce of your being.

It’s just sometimes, you’d appreciate the little things. Like a kiss to your knuckles, or a random bunch of flowers. You get the pet names; baby, darling, love — but that’s as far as endearment goes with Harry.

Maybe it’s just a phase, you find yourself wondering most of the time. Perhaps he’s just in that horny, frat boy era and the second university is over, that’s when the romance will start.

If you’re honest, you’re kind of hoping so. You don’t need romance, your relationship is passionate enough without it, but God, a little would be nice.

So really, in hindsight, you shouldn't have expected some cute date when Harry told you he was picking you up this evening for pizza and a late night drive.

You got your pizza (Harry’s treat), before piling back up in his car for a late night drive.

You can’t lie, late drives with Harry are one of your favourite things to do together. Windows down, blaring music. And maybe you were a little harsh earlier.

There’s been a couple instances where a drive has turned into parking at the peak of a hill, the pair of you laid across the bonnet trying to count all the stars you could see above you.

That’s not what tonight was supposed to be, because the drive lasted fifteen minutes before Harry stuck his hand down your knickers and his tongue in your mouth.

But you’ll never complain about that.

He’s gentle in the most feverish way possible. He needs you, wants you, craves you—but his touch is soft and tender, each caress bringing another surge of warmth to the surface of your skin.

The windows are foggy, though you haven’t opened your eyes in a while. Harry’s got his mouth enveloped over your pearled nipple, suckling and nibbling oh so gently.

One hand is stuffed in your knickers, the other around your throat. Your seat’s been reclined all the way back, your body completely horizontal as he hovers over you.

You never want to open your eyes, not even to take a peek. You’re too in awe of the way he makes you feel - even with the gentlest of touches.

His fingers toy with your clit, rubbing in such tight circles it feels more like a side-to-side movement. But it’s what you love and Harry knows it.

He’s always known how to get you there; when to push, when to pull. Your body relaxes completely when he has his way – no part of you has ever doubted his touch, never will.

“I wanna touch you,” you pant.

Your hips are rolling against his hand, back arching ever so slightly when he bites a little harder than before. Harry pecks your perked nipple, doting kisses across your chest and neck until his lips are level with your ear.

“I don’t remember telling you to speak.”

Oh. We’re playing like that tonight.

You purse your lips shut tight, knowing exactly what Harry wants from this. A smirk graces his stupidly handsome face as he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“That’s a good girl. Keep your mouth closed and let Daddy get to work.”

You can feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, feel the hairs on your body stand on end, feel the gush of arousal seep from your cunt.

Harry lets his hand dip further into your knickers, the tip of his middle finger swiping at the throbbing entrance of your pussy. You’re soaking wet, a little plump with anticipation.

He teases your hole for a few moments, tauntingly dipping a finger to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. It’s an agonising game he likes to play – to see how long until you’re begging for something more, for anything.

Last time, it ended in you sobbing for his cock, you wouldn’t stop until it was shoved down your throat. Such a naughty girl. Harry’s cock leaps at the memory, but that’s not how tonight is going to go.

Maybe if you’re good, you can have his cock when you get home. Maybe he’ll let you suck him to sleep, only if you’re lucky. For now, though, he’s too fucking horny for the foreplay.

Harry crawls down your body, reaching under the seat to push it back as far as it goes, and he settles in the foot space below.

Pulling your underwear down your legs, Harry props your thighs so they rest over his shoulders, leaving him with a faceful of your glistening cunt. His mouth salivates, eyes dark and hooded.

The smell of your arousal alone is enough to send Harry into a state of euphoric bliss, so it’s no shock to you when he very quickly buries his face between your thighs and laps up your cunt.

His tongue is warm and skilled, flat as he runs a stripe from your leaking hole to your throbbing clit, then wraps his lips around your nub, suckling and flicking as your back arches.

You know how this goes – keep your eyes closed and hands to yourself. And most importantly, keep that pretty little mouth shut.

“Such a sweet fucking cunt, baby.”

You jut your hips into his face, grinding against his tongue and he drags it back to your hole. It’s pure ecstasy, complete and utter bliss.

Harry reaches for your hands, guides them to your chest. You waste no time in grabbing your tits, pinching nipples between fingers the way Harry would.

He lets his hands snake back down to your hips, holding you in place with one as the other sneaks between your thighs. Harry spits your arousal back over your hole, his finger spreading it across your pussy and taunting your entrance.

A sweet gasp slips past your lips at the sensation–the feel of him circling your cunt and easing his thick digit in. One knuckle… two… he curls his finger as he eases into the third and your back arches.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, darling.”

The praises feel like clouds surrounding you, making you feel light and airy. You love nothing more than hearing Harry tell you how good you’ve been. And Harry loves nothing more than telling you, watching you buck and squeak in response.

He’s quick to put his lips back on your clit, slurping and flicking with his skilled tongue. There’s something so filthy about doing this in the car, parked in a ditch at the side of the road.

Anyone could catch you, anyone could drive past and see. Neither of you give a shit. He’s too busy burying his face in your cunt and you’re too busy trying to keep your breathing regulated.

His tongue works meticulously, swiping and folding at every tender point he knows. Your legs are starting to shake, knees folding in and smacking against the back of his head but he doesn’t care.

Harry will welcome any pain if it comes with your pleasure. That’s how he’s always been. If you’re not crushing his skull, he’s not doing a good enough job.

He doesn’t need verbal reassurance. He has no doubts he makes you feel like an angel. Watching you react, the way your body folds and coils, the limp noises that escape your pretty lips, it feeds Harry.

It’s not long before your entire body begins to twitch; involuntarily jerking at every suck, every curve of his finger. Harry works your G-spot until you’re seeing stars behind closed eyes, until your jaw is slack and strangled, wanton moans break through the silence.

It’s music to his fucking ears, everything he’s ever wanted to hear and more. If he could, he’d catch your cries on tape, have them replayed in his headphones all hours of the day.

He lets you get closer and closer–teetering you to the edge until you’re fucking desperate. Harry’s rock hard in his pants, can actually feel the precum beginning to seep out of his cock.

Now, he’s never been a selfish lover (in or out of bed), but right now, he doesn’t want to let you finish – he wants to see you beg and cry and shove his thick length in your tiny little cunt.

He wants to stretch you out with no warning, fuck you into that damn seat until you’re desperately holding onto something, anything. In Harry’s mind, there’s nothing more pressing, more desirable than that.

So he pulls away the second you’re about to burst. You’re far too dazed and confused to fully realise what he’s just done; that he’s actually stopped you from reaching your high.

And it’s only when your eyes finally start to flutter open that you notice what he’s doing. How his joggers are pulled down mid-thigh and his bright red cock is heavy in his hand.

You blink a couple of times, clearing your distorted vision. His length is angry, desperate for touch as his top stays an agonising shade of purple.

You start to reach closer, to touch him, kiss him, make him feel as good as he’s made you – but Harry swats your hand away and pushes on your chest so you’re laid back in the seat.

You watch him with eager eyes, the way he smears his full cock across your cunt, soaking in the juices you’ve left and the mess he’s made of you. His tip pushes at your clit, a shock of bliss coursing through your body.

“You’re gonna take this cock like the good girl you are, okay?”

You nod pathetically, rolling your hips to meet his. Harry slaps his length against your pussy, allowing you to feel the sheer weight of it before he lines himself up with your weeping hole.

With a slap to your thigh, he pushes forward, slowly – until you’re accustomed to the size. His balls gently knock at your ass, the short hairs on his pubic bone tickling at your clit and you gnaw down on your bottom lip.

He finds a slow rhythm, eyes locked on where your bodies intertwine. Each time he pulls out, he’s shinier than before, soaking in your arousal and it only makes him harder.

Both hands find homage to your hips, fingers marking the skin as he holds a firm grip.

It’s merely seconds before Harry picks up his pace and starts to fuck into you, each thrust more forceful than the last. Your cunt begins to tighten around him; pulsing and twitching in excitement.

Harry struggles to keep quiet, grunting between heavy pants as he reaches for your clit. He begins to rub, gently flicking from side to side in effort to get you to where you were before.

And it works, like fucking magic.

You’re gripping your tits and biting down on your tongue to keep you from screaming, your eyes rolled so far back you’re not sure you’ll see straight for days. And when he pinches your clit, giving it a little twist, it’s like your entire world implodes.

Harry fucks you through it; rougher, harder. Even with him stuffing your cunt, arousal still manages to seep through the sides of his cock, slipping down your ass and dripping onto his seat.

He doesn’t give a shit, not in the slightest. Harry’s mesmerised by the way your body falls limp and you struggle to catch your breath. He feels his own release catching up with him at the sight of your fucked out face and pretty, pearled nipples.

“Daddy’s good girl. My good fucking girl.”

Your body quakes, a second, all-consuming orgasm creeping up on you. There’s no stopping it, not as he hits all the right places, and just as you cum all over him, he shoots his load into you.

Harry can’t stop the uncontrollable moans that tear through his throat, the need and exhaustion peeling off him. He keeps his movements slow and steady, using your hole to milk himself dry, watching your chest rapidly rise and fall.

“Holy shit,” he croaks, running a hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath.

You admire him for a second, needing a moment to come to your senses. You were right, the windows are fogged, nearly dripping with condensation, actually. You giggle to yourself, offering Harry a shy smile and he grins.

“Shall we go back to your dorm and finish the last two episodes of Lucifer?”

Harry asks the question like he isn’t still rock hard and buried in your cunt. You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips but you nod, nonetheless, amused and somewhat impressed by the duality of this man.

You suppose that while Harry isn’t necessarily a romantic, he knows what you like and still caters to your every need. And if fucking you in the middle of nowhere and then offering cuddles and a tv show after is as close to romantic as you’re gonna get, you’ll take it.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #frat!harry

1K notes · View notes

jaegerrb0mb · 16 days

Text

Even if it hurts <3

Note: this is hot garbage I wrote half asleep listening to cigarettes after sex. I never wrote angst b4 so thought I’d give it a try. (I never read it back either, heeelp 😭)

Summary: katsuki bakugou has to end things with his gf of two years.

Warnings: none I can think of¿

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem reader

"Listen, I love you, I really do, but with the way my grades are slipping, I need to focus on my hero work now more than ever. I just want you to understand that," his voice is calmer than usual. You feel tears drip on your clothing and look down at that.

You didn't even notice you were crying.

"But I don't want to lose you," biting at your lip to hold back a sob bubbling up your throat, you watch Katsuki through blurred vision as he shifts uncomfortably on his bed, Now avoiding eye contact with you.

When he texted you to come to his dorm room, this was the last thing you'd ever expected. But deep down, never wanting to admit it, you saw it coming, just not so soon.

"Y/n…" his voice trails off, fearing that if he looks at you crying, he might breakdown himself. "I don't wanna do this either, I'm not tryna be a jerk, but right now it's for the best. You'll thank me in the future when we're both top her-" cutting himself off when he hears you stifling, he closes his eyes tightly.

This hurts him just as much. It's impossible to hide it, yet trying to keep composed, he continues. "You're not losing me, I'm right here and I'll always be here for you. After graduation, if things go how I hope, I'll take you back in a heartbeat. I can guarantee that much." These words echo in your mind as the room falls into silence, the only sound being your hiccups and soft sniffles. It remains that way for a minute or so.

"Y/n," his voice croaks as he turns his attention to you, but the sight brings such a violent pain in his chest he didn't know was possible, almost like there was a knife twisting that he couldn't remove. He has to tear his eyes away once more, looking at anything else but you. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Two years... we've been together for two years, Suki," the sound of his name falling from your trembling lips burns his ears, and he knows whatever you say next will haunt him after.

"But I'll never call it a waste because loving you was the best thing I've ever done," you sobbed. Your throat feels swollen and stuttered as you try to speak the words in your head. "I'll respect your choice, even if it hurts. As long as you're happy and fine with this decision, then I'll be happy and fine with it. And that's all I ever wanted for you after all, to be happy." Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to put on a smile.

Katsuki's stomach turns as you finish. Everything in his being is yelling at him to take it all back, to tell you 'it doesn't have to end like this, we can work through it together.' However, he knows that's not true. He wishes it was, but he can't take on this relationship and his career at once. He tried to make ends meet, but it didn't work. He knows this is what has to happen. It has to be one or the other, and you know that as well. And god, does it hurt. His head is spinning and he feels sick. Katsuki never knew he could feel physical pain from something like this before, up until now.

A soft hand brushing against his cheeks reels him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he sees your puffy eyes and tear-stained face wiping away at his own. "We're gonna be okay, Bakugou."

You press a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away slightly and whispering against them. "Promise." His hand goes up to wipe away your own tears, and you let him. You both sit in silence, crying and basking in each other's touch one last time before you move away.

Making your way off his bed and to the door, you grab the handle hesitantly for a second before leaving.

As soon as you do, he quickly buries his head into his pillow, letting out an uncontrollable sob, finally breaking down. You hear it in the hallway, only making you cry harder as you walk further.

Both of you are heavy-hearted.

#bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha #bnha #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #this is hot garbage #idk what else to tag #fem reader #breakup angst¿

216 notes · View notes

gothicknightz · 1 year

Text

3am | ethan landry

notes: aaah!!! i can't believe you guys enjoyed my little ethan post. ironically, i wrote that in the early morning hours with little inspiration. so here's another one. some blood + injuries

part 2!

'you are so dumb for trusting him'

She rolled her eyes as the text from Mindy popped up on her phone's notification wall.

She was on the subway on her way back from a party Chad had dragged her to; it wasn't exactly her scene, but she indulged in it nevertheless, now mildly sober instead of risking it in the streets.

Was it safe to travel alone when there's a masked killer dressed up as Ghostface going around? Possibly. But the killer could be anyone, New York was a big city as it was, and not all the rideshare drivers were the nicest in the Big Apple.

Her phone rang as she leaned up against the stanchion, one hand holding the rail as she answered it, "Mindy if you're here to criticize my choice in men-"

She stopped mid-lecture as a gravelly voice chuckled, "It's not Mindy, (y/n)."

Her eyes widened as she was sober enough to recognize that voice; the one who terrorized her friends a year ago, and the one who was terrorizing them now, herself included.

Her heart slowly started to race as she frantically looked around, wondering if the ghastly killer was on the train with them, "You're the one responsible for those killings, right?"

"So you've been following the news," The was a short yet death-defying pause in between, "Good girl. You do know the rules, right?"

It seemed as the ride back to the Blackmore University station took forever suddenly, because now, she had no interest in staying on the subway any longer than she should.

"I've heard enough of them. Cut to the chase, what do you want from me?"

Her eyes continued to scan the rest of the train car for the killer, but she couldn't find him to her avail.

"What do I want from you," He paused, and as soon as the train came to the stop, she rushed out of there with everyone else. "Is to see the look on your face as I stab you in the heart."

"Oh yeah?" Her voice wavered as she made her way up the stairs, instinctively tightening her backpack and making a run to her boyfriend's dorm. "You're not as brutal as you make your artwork seem."

"Maybe I'm not the monster you think I am."

"I highly doubt it." She spat, before hanging up and making her way up the stairs to Chad and Ethan's dorm.

Unfortunately, for her, Ghostface had been following her, and jumped out of a utility closet down the hall, slightly worrying her that he could have gotten to her boyfriend.

Her scream echoed through the rhetorically quiet hall as the killer's knife sliced her forearm, causing her to stumble backward and fall.

This Ghostface wasn't the one who called, she thought, in a disarray of last-minute thoughts and panics.

Her sobs and wails choked her as the knife made its way to her side, the masked killer repeatedly stabbing her there thrice times before raising the knife to go in for the final blow.

BANG!

A gun was fired which shot Ghostface backward, which Chad had carried with him.

Ethan was right behind him, and his attention turned quickly to her, allowing Ghostface to slip off again as per usual.

"Ethan?" She weakly whispered, attempting to stop her wound from bleeding.

He muttered strings of curses and apologies such as, 'I'm never letting you take the subway home again' as he scooped her up, not caring if blood got all over him.

"He's gone."

(there's definitely gonna part 2 i don't like how this ended)

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #chad meeks martin #mason gooding #mindy meeks martin #jasmin savoy brown #ghostface #ghostface imagines #scream imagines #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #devyn nekoda #anika kayoko

1K notes · View notes

ray4hotchner · 9 months

Text

Reckless

❀ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: aaron hotchner x reader

❀ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Y/N, a team member of the BAU, faces her past during a challenging case. Struggling to cope, Y/N's impulsive actions strain her relationship with Hotch.

❀ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.5k

❀ 𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: Hi everyone, I finally caved in and wrote something on my own. This is my first fic, so let me know what you think

❀ 𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕔𝕔: @iyv-ray24

On Ao3

Normally, Y/N was one of the last people to board the jet after a case. Not this time though. She didn't wait for the team and drove straight from the sheriff's station to the airport once the case was wrapping up. It had been a couple of stressful days, and everyone was exhausted. However, Y/N was not only exhausted but also very, very pissed – pissed at the team, pissed at herself, but most importantly, at Hotch.

This case was not easy for any of them. Three girls between the ages of 9 and 13 were abducted, horribly abused, and killed before their bodies were dumped in different local parks in the city. The BAU was called in when the third child was missing, but unfortunately, they arrived way too late. Now, the fourth girl, Casandra Johnson, an 11-year-old, was missing.

Most of the times, Y/N wouldn't have problems with distancing herself emotionally from cases, but this one just hit too close to home. Her little baby sister was abducted from their front porch when she was 9. Y/N herself was only a teenager at that time, and she was the one babysitting her sister. Just a couple of minutes of distraction, and her baby sister was gone forever. They found her body a week later, and the man who killed her luckily got caught, but Y/N never forgave herself and lived every day with the guilt of letting her sister down.

Yep, the team knew all about this stuff. They were familiar with each other's messed-up pasts and traumas; they were like a close-knit family, after all. So, when Penelope started laying out all the details about the case, she could feel her teammates' eyes on her. Sure, it wasn't easy to stare at pictures of innocent little girls and remember what happened to her own sister, but that wasn't going to stop her from getting her job done. She was a pro at this, and as far as she was concerned, this was just another case.

She found herself in the tiny kitchenette of the jet, pouring a cup of coffee, when Hotch walked over.

"Hey, want some coffee?" she offered, but he just shook his head.

"You doing okay?" he asked, standing close because the kitchenette was so darn small.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she replied, knowing exactly why, but she wasn't about to show her feelings to him.

"You could sit this one out, you know.”

"Hotch, no way! Please don't even suggest that! These girls deserve justice, and I've got to see it through."

"I get it, but if things start getting too heavy and overwhelming, promise me you'll give me a heads-up," he said gently.

"You bet," she nodded.

They hung there for a few more seconds. Hotch's presence always had a calming effect on her, and she felt more grounded when he was around. He saw the tension on her face and he probably wanted to reach out and offer comfort, but he held back. So, he turned around and went back to his seat. She watched Hotch walk away and caught eyes with Emily, who gave her a knowing look. She was the only one on the team who knew how Y/N felt about Hotch. To this day, she regretted telling Emily, on a drunken night, that she had a crush on their boss. Emily had persistently encouraged her on more than a few occasions to confess her feelings, but she had consistently declined, fearing the potential embarrassment and awkwardness it could create between them. Emily smirked at her, but she only mouthed "Don't" before also returning to her seat.

The case was progressing as usual – examining the crime scene, talking to victims' relatives and potential eyewitnesses, and creating the unsub profile. Throughout the investigation, the team noticed Y/N becoming increasingly agitated. However, things took a sharp downward turn after Casandra was kidnapped. Y/N grew moody, neglected sleep and food, and immersed herself in reexamining the same files and evidence over and over again.

Y/N and Spencer found themselves back at the last crime scene, as Y/N insisted on revisiting it, when new information arose. Penelope added them to the group call and informed everyone that her research had led her to a man fitting the unsub's profile. She sent over his last registered address.

"We're nearby. It's not far from the last crime scene," Y/N informed the team.

"We'll meet you guys there," Derek said before they ended the call. Y/N and Spencer then drove to the address.

They parked in front of the house and awaited the team's arrival when Y/N spotted movement inside. She immediately called Hotch.

"Hotch, there's someone in the house. Maybe he's holding the girl in there. We need to go in. Now!"

"We'll be there shortly. You can't go in there without backup," Hotch cautioned.

"Spencer is here too."

"Agent Y/L/N, I said wait. That's an order!" Hotch's tone was stern.

"I'm sorry, I have to," Y/N replied, and with that, she exited the car and headed toward the front door of the house. Hotch heard Spencer shouting after Y/N before the call ended. Cursing under his breath, he instructed Derek to speed up.

In under 5 minutes, the team reached the unsub's address. The front door had been kicked open, and the team could hear Y/N yelling at someone.

"Where is he? Tell me! Where is your brother?" She was shouting, pinning a young man facedown on the carpet. Y/N's knee was pressed into his back, immobilizing him as she held his hands behind his back.

"Agent Y/L/N, that's enough!" Hotch's order rang out, and he turned to Emily, gesturing for her to take over. Emily walked over, cuffed the man's hands, and assisted him to his feet. The officers and the team exited the house. As they were leaving, Hotch turned to Y/N and said, "We will discuss this later."

Upon arriving at the station, Hotch instructed Derek and Rossi to interrogate the suspect's brother regarding the unsub's whereabouts. He told the team, except for Y/N, to leave the room the sheriff assigned to the BAU upon their arrival. Facing her, Hotch clenched his jaw, in order to stay calm.

"You are off the case," he stated in an unwavering voice.

"Hotch, no, I'm—"

"You. Are. Off. The case. Agent Y/L/N."

"That's not fair. We have the guy's brother."

"That's not fair? That's not fair? Are you really talking back right now?" Hotch's anger escalated.

"I said I'm sorry! But what if we would have lost our chance? That guy had his things packed; he was leaving!"

"I don't care if he was leaving or not! You can't act on your own in situations like this! You put yourself and Spencer in danger."

"We're fine!"

"Yeah, luckily! But you didn't know what awaited you behind that door. Both of you could have been injured or worse. Your actions were selfish and unprofessional. I don't want you anywhere near anything related to this case until we're back in Quantico. Do you understand?"

Y/N didn't even respond; she simply stormed out of the room. She headed straight to the bathroom, seeking some privacy to calm down. Splashing her face with ice-cold water, she leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths while still seething with anger. Just then, JJ entered the restroom. Like everyone else at the station, she had heard the heated exchange between Hotch and Y/N and came to check on her.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm off the case."

"Maybe it's for the best, don't you think?"

"Not you too, JJ," Y/N replied, releasing a heavy sigh as she dried her hands and face. She walked past JJ and left the restroom, unwilling to argue with her as well. Although she was banned from anything related to the case, Hotch hadn't instructed her to leave the station entirely or return to the hotel, so she remained. In the breakroom, she sat, observing and straining to catch any updates. She watched as Derek and Rossi emerged from the interrogation room, but they refused to share information due to Hotch's orders. Naturally, Spencer and Emily also followed Hotch's directives, all for Y/N's own well-being.

Suddenly, there was movement as the team geared up, putting on their vests. Clearly, they had a new lead. Y/N swiftly rose, walking toward the team to grab her own vest, but Hotch halted her immediately.

"I told you that you're not allowed anything related to the case."

"Hotch, come on! Punish me with paperwork or anything else, but not like this, please!"

"No."

"Hotch, maybe you should—" Derek attempted to intervene.

"I said no!" Hotch's tone was firm as he locked eyes with Y/N. He could see the anger in her eyes and how she was holding back tears of frustration. With Hotch's final words, the team exited the station and drove away. Unable to hold back, Y/N retreated to the bathroom, shedding a few tears of anger. She knew she had made a mistake and was in the wrong, but the frustration and sense of being left behind lingered. Hotch should have been the first to understand the weight of guilt from not saving a loved one. Yet, he treated her as the issue, disregarding the missing child who might require the help of every agent for her rescue.

She let out a deep breath, a release that felt like she had been holding it in for days, as the team returned to the station with the little girl in Emily's arms. Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the heartwarming scene of the girl reuniting with her parents, embraces and kisses shared all around.

Mistiness gathered in Y/N's eyes once more, her mind drifting to how it might have felt to get her own little sister back all those years ago. Lifting her eyes from the heartwarming family reunion, her gaze locked with Hotch's, and it was as if he could read her thoughts. He took a step towards her, but she promptly spun around and walked away.

Hotch was not surprised by her reaction; he didn't even know why he had attempted to approach her. He did know, deep down, but he wasn't ready to admit it to himself, especially not at this moment. A few minutes later, he noticed Y/N storming out of the station, her bag slung over her shoulder.

"She said she'll be waiting by the jet," JJ informed Hotch as they both watched Y/N leave.

That was why she found herself being the first to arrive at the jet, a rarity. Normally, she'd take the seat in front of Hotch, and they'd dive into their paperwork during the flight back home. It was an opportunity to talk and maybe even steal glances at his handsome face. But now, she didn’t even want to hear his voice.

Instead, she settled onto the broad couch, the same one where Spencer often napped, and attempted to drift into sleep. Exhaustion from the past days quickly pulled her into slumber. She faintly registered the team entering the jet and briefly woke at takeoff, but she promptly turned away and slipped back into sleep, determined to avoid everyone, especially Hotch.

The jet's interior was dimly lit, and most of the team dozed off in their seats. Hotch occupied a couple of seats away from the couch where Y/N was deeply asleep, while Rossi sat directly in front of him. He observed her for a moment, noticing her curling up into a ball – she must be cold. The realization prompted Hotch to stand up promptly. He opened one of the jet's cupboards and retrieved a blanket. Quietly, he approached Y/N and draped the blanket over her, observing as she snuggled into the soft fabric. With the exception of Rossi, everyone else was already asleep, so his actions would likely go unquestioned by the team. Besides, he was merely helping a colleague, right? He lingered by her side for longer than necessary; her relaxed face was undeniably beautiful, and he wanted – no, needed – to savour it for just a little while longer. He was painfully aware that the only expression he'd encounter in her eyes when she woke would be resentment toward him. He would give anything to reach out and caress her cheek at this very moment. Eventually, he returned to his seat, and Rossi's gaze immediately landed on him.

"You're hopeless, Aaron," Rossi chuckled.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hotch replied, his gaze shifting to the files before him.

"You know, she kind of has the right to be angry at you."

"You can't seriously think that what she did was right."

"No, I do not. It was actually really fucking dumb, but you're sort of being a hypocrite here."

"How so?"

"Well, yes, she made a mistake barging into that house on her own, and she acted impulsively. But so did you. Every one of us has made stupid mistakes at some point, and hers at least helped us locate the unsub. If it were any other agent, you would have let them join the rescue and handed them a pile of paperwork as punishment later. But because you have an emotional attachment to her and feelings for her, you were afraid she'd act recklessly again. You couldn't risk her getting hurt, like, say, jumping in front of a bullet – which we both know she would have. So, you left her behind. Not to mention, you understood why she acted the way she did. This case was deeply personal to her. Needless to say, you both acted like idiots."

Hotch leans back in his seat and lets out a sigh. He knows Rossi's right, though sometimes he hates working with profilers.

"We all want to protect the people we love, Aaron. But remember, she's still an agent, and this is her job," Rossi adds before returning to his files.

Hotch glances over at her and ponders Rossi's words. He realizes he definitely overreacted because it was you who put yourself in danger. He knows she's a great agent and can take care of herself in these dangerous situations, but just the thought of something happening to her makes his stomach drops.

It had been a couple of days since the team had returned to Quantico, and as Hotch expected, Y/N was avoiding him at all costs. She submitted her reports well before the deadlines, left the office earlier than usual – a rarity for her, as she was typically one of the last agents to leave. Hotch even noticed her falling silent whenever he entered the break room or the bullpen, and she seemed to find excuses to distance herself from him. This avoidance was starting to irritate him more and more. He missed the late nights spent doing paperwork together in his office after everyone else had gone home. He longed to hear her laughter and engage in conversations with her. He just missed her. While she appeared to be getting along fine with the rest of the team, her anger toward Hotch still lingered. He knew he needed to talk to her and explain his actions; he hoped that she might understand once he did.

So, as soon as he arrived at the office the following day, he made it a priority. Upon entering his office, he noticed Y/N's completed report on his desk, finished once again before deadline. He was aware that she was completing her work ahead of time to avoid any interaction with Hotch about the report. Without even glancing at the report, he stepped back out of his office.

"Agent Y/L/N, a word, please," he said, his tone possibly more agitated than he had intended. The rest of the team exchanged questioning looks as Y/N ascended the few stairs to his office. She knocked on the door, even though it was already open, and announced herself before entering.

"Close the door," Hotch ordered, his voice firm as he removed his jacket.

He had initially only wanted to apologize and explain his decision on the case, but seeing that finished report again ignited a kind of anger within him. Particularly because he knew how much she despised working on it in the first place. Now, she stood in front of him, alone for the first time in days, yet she didn't even glance at his face.

"You finished your work early again, Agent Y/L/N?"

"Yes, sir." Sir... she never called him 'sir.' He really wanted to hear his name from her. He tried to catch her eyes, but she purposely looked away. There was a brief silence before she finally spoke up, "Is there something wrong with it, sir?"

His emotions were getting the better of him due to her distant tone, possibly amplified by the frustration that had built up over the past few days. So, he responded with unnecessary sharpness.

"Yeah, there's something wrong with it. Do it again," he snapped, tossing the file onto the desk closer to her. For the first time in days, she met his eyes, her brows furrowed in irritation, though her voice remained calm.

"May I ask what was wrong with it, sir?" she inquired, striving to sound neutral.

"You may not, Agent! Get back to your work," he replied, his voice unintentionally louder than he intended.

Y/N stormed out of the room, doing her best to restrain herself from slamming the door behind her. She settled back at her desk, aware of her colleagues' watchful eyes on her, though no one said a word. In his office, Hotch couldn't help but curse under his breath. "Why did I do that?" he wondered. This kind of pettiness was uncharacteristic of him, yet there was something about her that could evoke such strong emotions from him, both positive and negative.

He struggled throughout the remaining day to focus on his work, his mind repeatedly drifting to thoughts of her. Glancing at the clock, he realized that the workday was drawing to a close. He had planned to talk to her today, and he was determined to do it before she left, especially since she tended to head out before the others. Stepping out of his office and peering down into the bullpen, he noticed Spencer packing up while Y/N and Emily waited. Derek and Penelope were already on their way to the elevator, and Rossi had left hours ago due to personal matters.

"Y/L/N, to my office, please," he called out in his strong voice from the top of the stairs before returning back into his office. Spencer and Emily exchanged glances, and while Y/N was clearly displeased, it was inevitable that she had to have a conversation with Hotch.

"You guys go ahead. Don't wait for me. I'll see you tomorrow," she said, placing her bag back on her desk before making her way up to Hotch's office.

"Sit down," Hotch says as she enters his office, gesturing to the free chair in front of his desk.

"For how much longer do you plan to keep this up?" Hotch asks in a plain tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Hotch rubs his face and lets out a sigh before continuing. "Cut it out! This whole 'sir' thing. You haven't spoken to me in days. It's affecting the work environment."

"I don't think it's affecting anything. I've been working efficiently, and my reports are always on time."

"I don't give a damn about your reports, Y/N!" Hotch exclaims, standing up and slamming his hands on the table as he leans toward her.

She stands abruptly. "Then there's no reason for me to be here if this isn't work-related," she nearly yells, matching Hotch's intensity. She starts to turn around, indicating her intention to leave.

"You're not leaving before we talk about what happened and clear this up!", he said and walked around his desk to now stand infront of her.

"There's nothing to clear up!"

"How is there nothing to clear up? You've been avoiding me since we got back from the case. You won't talk to me, you won't look at me—hell, you leave the room when I walk in."

Hotch's frustration was palpable as he stepped closer to her. "You think you can just avoid me and everything will be fine? You think you can act like nothing happened?"

Y/N's voice trembled with anger. "I'm doing my job, just like I always have."

"Your job? This is more than just about your damn job. We're a team, and that means communication and trust."

Y/N shot back, her voice rising. "Trust? Is that what you call it? You completely shut me out during the case. You made me feel like I can't make decisions, like I'm incapable."

Hotch's eyes blazed with frustration. "I made a decision to protect you, to keep you safe!"

"By treating me like a child? By belittling me in front of the team?" Y/N's cheeks were flushed, her anger evident.

"You were reckless, Y/N! You put yourself and Spencer in danger!"

"I had a lead, I had a chance to save that girl!"

"By charging into a potentially dangerous situation without backup? You're lucky nothing worse happened."

Y/N's fists clenched at her sides. "You don't understand. You never understand."

"Oh, I understand more than you realize," Hotch retorted, his voice dripping with frustration.

The room seemed to crackle with tension as their argument escalated. Each word was a jab, a release of the pent-up emotions they had been harboring. The distance between them had grown from physical to emotional, and they were both struggling to bridge the gap.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the room, and JJ's head appeared in the doorway. "Oh, sorry for disturbing. I just wanted to say goodbye before I leave. Don't let me interrupt," she said, sensing the tension in the room, and then closed the door behind her. Throughout JJ's brief interaction, Y/N and Hotch's eyes remained locked on each other.

JJ's interruption seemed to inject a moment of calm into the charged atmosphere, allowing a slight easing of the tension in the room.

Hotch's voice broke the silence once again, this time with a calmer and more composed tone. "Believe me, I understand why this case held such significance for you. The entire team recognised that. However, that doesn't justify putting yourself in harm's way."

Y/N's voice softened, her frustration mingling with a touch of vulnerability. "I know it was reckless to charge in without waiting, and I've already apologized for that—I'm still sorry. But what you did was unfair. You left me behind. Aren't we supposed to be a team? How could you make that decision, Hotch?" Her eyes misted over, a mixture of hurt and confusion in her gaze.

Hotch's gaze softened as he heard the hurt in her voice. He took a step closer, closing the physical distance between them, and rested his hands on his hips. "Y/N, it's not about whether you apologized or not. It's about the fact that you charged into a dangerous situation without considering the consequences. In this line of work, we can't afford to act on emotions alone. We have to think logically, strategically. Acting solely on emotion can get people killed."

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears as his words sank in. She looked down at her hands, her voice choked with emotion. "I know that, Hotch. I do. But in that moment, all I could think about was finding that girl, saving her. It was like... I couldn't control myself."

Hotch took another step forward, his presence a comforting presence in front of her. He reached out and gently lifted her chin, guiding her gaze to meet his. His touch was tender, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Y/N, I get it. I do. But I was scared. Scared of losing you, of seeing you hurt. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you."

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. His touch was a lifeline, grounding her in this vulnerable moment. "I... I couldn't save my sister," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was supposed to be watching her, and I let her down."

Hotch's grip on her chin tightened ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. He leaned in closer, his voice tender. "Y/N, what happened to your sister wasn't your fault. You were just a child yourself. You couldn't have known."

A sob escaped Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her tears falling freely now. Hotch gently wiped away her tears with his thumb, his touch soothing. "It's okay to feel the pain, Y/N. But you can't let it dictate your actions now. You have so much strength, so much potential. I just want to keep you safe."

She let out a shaky breath, her emotions raw and exposed. Hotch's presence and his words were a balm to her wounded heart. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with remorse.

Hotch shook his head softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "There's no need to apologize. I should have handled things differently too. We both made mistakes."

They stood there for a moment, their gazes locked, and the air around them seemed to shift. Hotch took a step forward, his hand moving from her chin to her cheek, his touch gentle and caring.

"Y/N, we're a team. And I promise you, I'll always have your back. But I need you to promise me that you'll think before you act, that you'll prioritize your safety."

She nodded, her tears slowing as a small smile tugged at her lips. "I promise."

And in that moment, with their bodies close and their gazes intertwined, they found a connection that went beyond words—a connection forged in vulnerability, understanding, and the unspoken bond of a team that had weathered the storm together.

Y/N closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around Hotch in a tight embrace. Her face is buried in his chest, and he holds her close, his hand caressing her hair with utmost tenderness. In this vulnerable embrace, their walls begin to crumble, and the weight of unspoken emotions hangs heavily in the air.

Hotch's voice is barely above a whisper as he presses his lips to her ear, letting all the truths he had been holding back spill forth. "I was so scared, Y/N... scared to lose you. I can't bear the thought of ever losing you. Please, don't ever put yourself in that kind of danger again."

His words are a mixture of desperation and genuine concern, a heartfelt confession that had been weighing on him for far too long. He holds her tighter, his grip on her waist firm yet gentle. "I don't know what I would do without you. You've become such an important part of my life."

His voice quivers with emotion, each word carrying the weight of his feelings. "I missed talking to you, missed hearing your laugh. Even the complaints about paperwork, I missed those too. You mean so much to me, Y/N, more than you might realize."

Y/N's grip on him tightens, her tears soaking into his shirt as she listens to his heartfelt words. It's a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty that they had both been avoiding. Hotch's whispers in her ear are like a soothing melody, erasing the tension that had been building between them.

Their embrace lingers, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that ties them together. Hotch continues to caress her hair, his touch a silent reassurance of his feelings. In this moment, surrounded by their shared emotions and the warmth of their connection, they find solace in each other's arms.

Y/N pulls away slightly, creating enough space to look up at him, her eyes glistening with sincerity. She takes a deep breath before speaking, her voice a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Hotch, Aaron... I became so upset about this situation because it was you who was disappointed in me. You mean the world to me. Your opinion, your feelings, they matter more than I can even express. Not just as my boss, but as a friend and... and maybe, just maybe, even more."

Her cheeks flush with a soft hue of pink as she admits her feelings, her gaze dropping to the floor as if overwhelmed by the weight of her confession. She's both relieved and terrified to have finally voiced her emotions, unsure of how he'll react despite his previous words of comfort.

Hotch's breath catches in his throat as he absorbs her words. His heart races, and a mixture of surprise, hope, and affection blooms in his chest. He reaches out to gently lift her chin, his thumb brushing against her skin as he tilts her face up to meet his gaze. His expression is a mixture of tenderness and warmth, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.

"Y/N..." Hotch's voice is soft, carrying a mix of emotions that mirror her own. He searches her eyes, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "I've been struggling with my own feelings, with the fear of crossing a line. But I want you to know... you're important to me too. More than I can put into words."

A gentle smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his gaze locked onto hers. "I never wanted to push you away or make you feel like your actions don't matter. They do, because you matter. And I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Y/N's heart swells with his words, and the warmth of his touch resonates deep within her. Her eyes well up with tears, but this time they're tears of relief and joy. Her lips tremble into a soft smile as she meets his gaze with renewed hope.

"I'm glad we talked," she whispers, her voice filled with sincerity. "I don't want to avoid you, Aaron. I want us to be honest with each other, no matter what happens."

Hotch's thumb continues to caress her cheek, his touch grounding her in this moment of emotional intimacy. "I feel the same way," he admits, his voice a mere breath against her lips. "And I promise, from now on, we'll face things together."

Their proximity becomes charged with a newfound understanding, their unspoken connection now verbalized. And as they stand there, gazing into each other's eyes, they both know that this conversation is just the beginning of a deeper and more meaningful journey ahead.

As the weight of their emotions lingers in the air, Y/N takes a small step closer, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. Hotch's gaze softens even further, and in that moment, they both feel the pull of an unspoken desire.

Without any more hesitation, Y/N tilts her head slightly, her lips brushing against his in a tentative yet gentle kiss. It's a kiss filled with the tenderness of their shared feelings, a silent promise of everything they've both been longing for.

Hotch's arms instinctively wrap around her, pulling her closer as he deepens the kiss with a mixture of longing and affection. His lips move against hers with a slow and deliberate rhythm, their connection intensifying as their bodies press against each other.

The air between them grows warmer, their shared emotions igniting a spark of passion. Y/N's fingers thread through his hair, holding him close as the kiss becomes more heated, a reflection of the desires they've kept hidden for so long.

Their breath mingles, the world around them fading as they lose themselves in the intoxicating sensation of their lips moving together. The kiss becomes a dance of emotions, each movement a declaration of their feelings.

Finally, they break apart, their lips still lingering just millimeters away. Their breaths come in ragged gasps, their eyes locked in a heated gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and bliss.

A soft, love-drunk smile tugs at Y/N's lips, and she brushes her thumb against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. Hotch's fingers continue to caress her back, his touch a silent affirmation of his feelings.

"Wow," Y/N breathes, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart still racing from the intensity of their kiss.

Hotch chuckles softly, his forehead resting against hers. "Yeah, wow," he replies, his voice filled with a mixture of wonder and contentment.

Their smiles mirror each other's, and in that moment, they both realize that this is just the beginning of their journey together. The walls that once kept their feelings hidden have crumbled, replaced by a newfound connection that's deeper and more meaningful.

As they stand there, breathless and gazing into each other's eyes, they know that they're embarking on a path of honesty, vulnerability, and love. And with their lips still tingling from their kiss, they share a quiet understanding that whatever challenges lie ahead, they'll face them together.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaronhotchnerissuchadilfandIwoulddieforhim

628 notes · View notes

becca-e-barnes · 2 years

Note

do you have any pornstar dbf!bucky thots👀

The Video

I've had this thought in my head all damn day and I just needed to write it. I'll link this piece on both my Dad's Best Friend!Bucky master list and the Pornstar!Bucky master list because I don't want to choose.

Consider this the piece I wrote to celebrate my birthday today 💗 here’s to 23 with you lovely folks! 🥂

Pairing: Pornstar! Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You find out what your father’s best friend does for work.

Warnings: Age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s, Bucky is in his late 40’s), vaginal fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, praise kink, mentions of rough pornography, dirty talk, pet names, degradation

Minors, do not interact

Avoiding Bucky had never been your plan, purely because it would’ve been a fucking stupid one. Realistically, it wouldn’t have been easy to avoid someone who probably spent more time at your house than they did their own. When he wasn’t at ‘work’, your father’s friend seemed to spend his time at your house, mowing the lawn or polishing your mom’s car or watching some pointless sports game with your dad.

You’d never really questioned what Bucky got up to for work. You imagined growing up that he must’ve practiced a trade since he was always the one your father called to fix the kitchen sink when it sprung a leak or tinker with the garage door when it became difficult to pull down.

Now that you were fully clued in however, it all made painful sense why Bucky had been so evasive when you had come right out and asked him what he did for work the year before you graduated from college.

“What do you think I do, sweetheart?” He had asked with a smirk tugging at the corners of his soft, pink lips.

“I have no idea, Buck! You seem to have as much free time as you like, I just don’t understand how you pay the bills.” You had mused, sitting in your own garage on a work bench, swinging your legs in front of you, secretly hoping that Bucky would notice just how cute and tiny those shorts you were wearing are. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t look up from under the bonnet of your dad’s jeep.

“I guess you could say I’m self-employed, angel. I pick and choose the jobs I want. I have plenty of offers.” He tried to keep it as non-descript as possible, dodging the question rather than lying about it.

“I bet you do, you seem good with your hands.” He could tell by the genuine innocence in your voice that you truly had no idea. You weren’t leading him to answer one way or another.

He huffed out a laugh as he grabbed the rag beside him, wiping the oil from his hands, muddying the white cloth with the dark residue. “Oh sweetheart, you have no idea.”

It all made perfect sense now though, scrolling through picture after picture on your phone. Every drag of your fingertip brought a fresh wave of video thumbnails, each somehow more obscene than the last. The titles certainly weren’t much better.

Pictures of beautiful young women flooded your screen. Some had their makeup thoroughly ruined, mascara tracked down their cheeks and a fucked-out look in their eyes. Some were on their knees, their hair grabbed into a rough ponytail while they rested the tip of a cock on their tongue. Some were bent over, evidently ‘trapped’ under their bed with their ass in the air.

Curiosity got the better of you, after ignoring a warning from your brain that this might be an invasion of Bucky’s privacy. It was all posted on the internet after all, it’s not like he could keep it a secret forever.

One video caught your eye, titled ‘James Barnes fucks tight brunette, HUGE cumshot’. The crude objectification made you wince a little but the short snippet of video that the thumbnail provided you with seemed a little bit gentler than the rest.

Skipping the first few minutes helped you feel like you weren’t too invested. This was research. Plain and simple nosiness. You had no intention of watching this for any purpose other than to see whether Bucky Barnes had perfected his craft or not.

“Shit, that’s it. So fuckin’ pretty like this.” The voice from your phone was familiar but so much lower than you’d ever heard it before; so deep, you could only have described it as a growl.

The girl whimpered, almost pathetically. You couldn’t blame her. Bucky wasn’t small by any stretch of the imagination and judging by the reaction of the woman he was buried inside, he managed to hit all the spots he needed to.

You’d heard fake moans before. Hell, you’d made plenty of them yourself. Enough to know that the woman you were watching wasn’t orchestrating hers for the benefit of the camera. No, those were real. Right down to the trembling thighs either side of Bucky’s narrow hips.

“You have no idea how perfect you feel. Tight and wet and warm. You take me so fuckin’ well.” You watched as he slid inside her, painfully slowly. Admittedly, her body did take him well, letting him sink in until he had nothing left to give. This poor woman was already looking somewhat blissed out, begging him to fuck her but that’s when you skipped forward to about a minute before the end. That same woman was now clawing at his muscular back, whimpering and sobbing delightfully while Bucky pounded into her. He wasn’t holding back in the slightest, letting the same filth tumble from his lips.

“Oh baby, you sound like you can’t take any more. Are you done?” He was so condescending, it made your gut tighten with lust, a dull throb settling between your legs but the woman only shook her head.

“Good girl. God, ’m so close. You’ll never get enough, will you? Just a needy fucking slut for me. Gonna have you all cock obsessed. Bet you’ll think of me every time you touch that pretty pussy of yours from now on. You’ll be begging to see me again.” Bucky sounded wrecked, finishing his sentence with a drawn out, low groan. Within a couple of seconds, he had pulled out, splashing his seed all over the woman’s tummy, pearlescent spend rolling down her sides and onto the sheets while some pooled on her heaving chest.

Over the next few days, you tried desperately to get what you had seen out of your head. You tried hard, you really did. Perhaps it didn’t help that late at night, you found yourself going back to watch more. Perhaps it also didn’t help that you found your hand drifting under your panties as you watched, taking care of that familiar throb that seemed to turn into an ache when you watched for too long without touching yourself.

Dodging Bucky was simple enough but you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever. Hiding in your room couldn’t become a hobby just because you found out your father’s best friend, the older man you had been so innocently crushing on, was a porn star.

The first time you bumped into him though, it was game over. He could tell just from the way you looked at him that something was up, or rather, the way you couldn’t look at him.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” He asked, watching you make yourself look busy in the cereal cupboard late one afternoon after he had walked into your kitchen. You saw him coming and very obviously tried find any excuse that meant you wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I’m fine, looking for cereal.” You replied, your head almost buried in the cupboard.

“Well, I hope you find it. If you can’t see it from there, you’ve got a problem. I bet your nose is practically touching the box, you’re so deep in there.” He sounded too damn amused and it only made you more embarrassed. This really was the last thing you needed. “Why are you avoiding me, honey?”

There it was. You were called out.

“I’m not!” You tried to sound sincere but you weren’t awfully successful; you knew even as you were saying the words that it wasn’t going to fly.

“Mhm, and the fact you saw me coming has nothing to do with how you’re buried shoulder deep in the cereal cupboard? Don’t think I’m stupid. I know you’re avoiding me.” In hindsight, you maybe could’ve handled that a little bit better but now here you were, pulling yourself back out and forcing some painfully awkward eye contact.

“I’ve seen the videos.” You mumbled, looking away and making yourself busy with your nails.

“Okay.” He dragged the word out a little, slowing it down and only adding to it’s gravity. “And? You’re an adult. You know what porn is. Things don’t need to be weird but if you’re uncomfortable having me around, I can leave you alone.”

“No, you don’t have to, I don’t have a problem with it. It’s all just very… Rough?” You weren’t really sure this was a conversation you wanted to be having, shame burning in the pit of your stomach because clearly you’d just admitted to watching more than a video or two.

He paused for a second, nodding his head, the couple of light grey hairs at the crown of his head glinting in the light. “You’re right, sweetheart. It's a little rough at times. That’s not my preference, that’s the script I’m given.”

That made sense and somehow settled you just a little. “So you just stick to the script?” You quiz, holding eye contact with him again for a few seconds before it got too intense.

“For the most part. It doesn’t tell me what to say, that’s all up to me. It just gives me direction. It’s a running order of the scenes we’ve agreed to shoot. Most of those videos certainly aren’t a representation of how I would want to fuck if I got the choice.” His lips were curled in a soft smile, watching you lap this all up.

“A-and how would you want to fuck if you got to choose?” You couldn’t quite believe you’d said it but apparently you did because the question hung in the air longer than you might have wanted it to.

“Well sweetheart, that depends. I’d treat a pretty little thing like you a bit differently. I’d have to be slow with you. Really ease you into it. I bet I’d have to spend a lot of time working you up to take me. I think I’d start by giving you my tongue until I can slip a finger into you. Then a second finger. Maybe a third if I think you can manage it.” He could see the effect this was having on you. You’d wanted to imagine it while you’d watched his videos but you couldn’t bring yourself to fall into the fantasy. Now he was dragging you into it.

“Then I’d put you on your hands and knees. I’d tell you to rub yourself while I press inside you, so slow you’ll be begging me to give you all of me. And when you’re at that point, ruined and desperate for more, I’ll fuck you nice and slow. I’ll have you just as addicted as those other girls but with a kinder pleasure. I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how badly I’ve wanted to kiss every inch of your skin I can. I’d tell you how gorgeous you look when you cum and how it’s better than I ever imagined.”

God, this was something close to a dream come true. “I-I’d like that. That sounds… Nice.” Words were really failing you, hoping this was a genuine offer and not just some hypothetical situation that would never play out.

“It does sound nice.” Bucky huffed out a laugh. “It sounds real fucking nice. I shouldn’t want my best friend’s daughter cumming around me. I know I shouldn’t. I know I think about it far too often but nothing gets me off the way you do.”

Your breath caught in your throat, an embarrassing arousal throbbing its way around your body, settling in the pit of your stomach. Heat blossomed in your chest, hoping beyond hope that this wasn’t some sick joke.

“I want that. But I don’t want you to be too gentle. I want you to fuck me the way you want to fuck. Not what you think I need.” Your confidence almost caught him off guard and he didn’t expect to find it as sexy as he did.

“God, you’re a tease.” He muttered under his breath, crossing the short space between you both to crash your lips against his. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the difference in size almost making you shudder because you’d never felt this small against a partner.

His lips were soft, his hands wandering seemingly everywhere at once and it was so much to take in. Fuck, it was perfect. Intense and hungry but not overwhelming.

“Bed, Buck.” You pant between fervent kisses before he’s grabbed you by the back of the thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you to your room.

You both had your clothes stripped off in a frenzy, not giving much thought to anything other than the way your lips slotted together. Your bottom lip felt perfectly at home between his teeth, the slight pain of his bite only making you moan.

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispers, tugging your panties off and groaning when he realises how slick they are already. “Fuck, I should’ve known how bad you’d need this. It’s always the ones you least expect.”

His breath feels so hot on your neck, littering the skin with kisses and gentle nibbles, panting tiny groans against you while his fingers slide over your core.

You’re wet and messy, aching with a need you didn’t know you were capable of. “Oh sweetheart, I could slip right into you. You’re soaking wet for me. God, you’re a dream.”

“Buck, please. I want your tongue later. P-please just fuck me first.” You could hardly manage a conhesive thought with the way his fingertips played with your body ever so gently, alternating between rubbing little circles on your clit and teasing your hole with the tips of two fingers, pressing them in just to the first knuckle.

“This is wrong, sweetheart. So fucking wrong. I shouldn’t get this fuckin’ excited hearing you beg for my dick but it’s all I’ve wanted for months.” His voice is just as low as you heard in those videos, dripping with arousal.

“The only thing ‘wrong’ here is the fact you’re not inside me yet.” You giggle quietly, rolling over and presenting your ass to him, exactly how he had described earlier.

Whatever self-control he had was gone. Long gone. The sight of you offering your slick, hot core was more than enough to ruin him but the way you watched him over your shoulder with an excited smile almost had him trembling with need.

“This is wrong.” He whispered, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance, grunting at the feeling of the wet heat.

“So wrong.” You repeated quietly. “S-so fucking wrong. We shouldn’t be doing this.” You were breathless already, pressing yourself back until his tip had just slipped inside you. “We shouldn’t need this as badly as we do.”

Bucky’s groan was beautiful, watching as you shifted yourself back to allow the rest of his length to slide slowly into you.

“You know damn well what you’re doing to me.” He sighed, looking away from the sight of his thick length gliding home. “Play with yourself. I won’t last long this time sweetheart but trust me, I’ve got all night with you.”

You’d never seen him this wrecked so early on in any of his videos so you did as you were told, letting two fingers circle your clit the way you often did when you watched him slide into those other women.

You heard him take a deep breath, pulling back out as far as possible without slipping out before pressing back in again, dragging a soft groan from both of you. This was everything you’d both longed for and more.

His huge hands squeezed the cheeks of your ass, admiring the how soft and plush it felt under his touch, dragging himself back out only to press back in, earning another groan.

You could’ve taken this forever, enjoying the way his tip nudged that delicate spot inside you while your fingers worked exactly how you like them to. This was bliss in its truest form. This was the passion you had craved, the gentle touches and soft praises but accompanied by an all-consuming pleasure.

“Faster Bucky, please.” You whined and hell, you looked like a goddess, fallen forward onto the bed, so consumed by sensations that you wanted to have no control over and he could recognise that so clearly.

“Tell me you need me.” He panted, speeding up his thrusts, letting each one land beautifully before forcing himself momentarily from the heat of your body once more.

“Oh God, I need you. I need you, Bucky. I need you to fuck me faster. Fuck me harder. It feels so good. I’m gonna cum for you, I just need more.” You couldn’t help but sob, drowning in the litany of groans and curses falling from the older man lips.

Your fingers worked faster, in time with the thrusts you were receiving until it all come crumbling down around you. The knot in your tummy tightened unbearably, your heart pounding as the sensation took over entirely. It was a perfect release, your body clenching and tightening rhythmically while you sobbed the ecstasy into the pillow under your head.

“Oh good girl, that’s it. Cum nice ‘n hard. O-oh God.” You vaguely registered Bucky coaching you through your orgasm before reaching his own but unlike any of his videos, he didn’t pull out. He stayed buried inside you, pressed as deep as he could go. You felt the weight of his seed inside you, the position allowing it to drip deeper, pooling at your cervix and the thought alone made you shudder.

“My God, that was…. Wow.” He laughed, kissing down your spine before pulling out and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“Yeah… Wow.” You giggled, kissing his cheek and curling up against him, not really worried that you were both a little sweaty.

“I meant it though. I’ll be gentle with you later. I’ll take my time with you. I just needed that.” He kissed your forehead, running a hand down your back and damn, he certainly wouldn’t hear you complaining.

6K notes · View notes

shikai-the-storyteller · 11 months

Text

The Federation, The Census Bureau, QSMP, Cucurucho, and Roier

Something fishy is going on regarding Roier and the higher powers of the QSMP, and after chatting with @kasiobite, I've realized that things are a lot more complicated than we first thought.

We do know a few things though:

Roier considered Cucurucho a friend for a long time (he doesn't anymore after Bobby's death)

Cucurucho was, and has always been, very fond of Roier

Cucurucho seemed happiest when it was with Roier

Cucurucho does not always represent the QSMP. Sometimes, it specifically says it represents the Federation. (Are these two different forces on the Island?)

The most we've ever learned about Cucurucho has been when it's spoken with Roier

Roier has told Cucurucho he loved it

Roier thinks Cucurucho is being controlled by the Island / the Federation and wanted to help free it

The Cucurucho we knew at the beginning of the series and the Cucurucho we know now act differently. Many believe this is because it was punished for its feelings for Roier, and its memory was altered.

When describing Cucurucho to Bobby, Roier (who seems to understand Cucurucho best) said this:

"I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."

Let's break down the details day by day:

[UPDATED: June 4]

Day 1 - 3 - Establishing a bond

Since the beginning, Cucurucho had a very playful relationship with Roier. It enjoyed surprising / scaring Roier with its sudden appearance, and after a certain point, Roier began to expect Cucurucho's presence whenever he called it.

And sure enough, whenever Roier called it, Cucurucho came.

There's a lot of playful teasing between the two of them, and these first three days best exhibit Cucurucho's personality.

When Roier wanted to create a taco truck, he searched the Island for all the ingredients he needed, but had no luck finding tomatillo seeds. Cucurucho appears suddenly before him, and after whacking him on the head, it offers him... some tomato seeds.

Roier gets excited until he realizes what the seeds are, and when Cucurucho realizes its mistake, it digs itself a hole and jumps in. Cucurucho seems genuinely embarrassed by its mistake, and its the most expressive we've ever seen Cucurucho be.

What's interesting is that, even outside of its interactions with Roier, Cucurucho's mind always seems to circle back to him.

On Day 3, Cucurucho hangs out with Mariana for 10 minutes in a cave before giving him a book that says "Tell me everything you know about Roier." (Note: this is completely unprompted by anything)

Mariana, having absolutely zero sense of self-preservation, proceeds to tease Cucurucho about its crush on Roier so much it would put an entire class of Kindergarten children to shame.

Mariana: You like Roier, don't you? You like Roier man! You like him! Ohhhhhhhhh~!!! You like him!!!!

(He also asks Cucurucho if it wants Roier's number).

Cucurucho then shoots and kills Mariana (lmao) but eventually does revive him. It seems to get frustrated when Mariana doesn't give it any information it deems "helpful" and starts digging pits and running back and forth. When Mariana asks what kind of information Cucurucho wants, it says "classified" and refuses to elaborate.

Day 4 - Last day with "our" Cucurucho

This is the first time we get a hint that there are multiple Cucuruchos [Timestamp 3h 52m]. Cucurucho appears in Roier's basement, and is also at the top of the stairs when Roier goes up, then back downstairs when Roier goes down. Roier is, understandably, a little freaked out, but he shakes it off pretty quickly. Cucurucho is a bit playful with Roier, and just… hangs out with him for no apparent reason. Roier even asks Cucurucho "Are you having a good time here?" and Cucurucho nods. Roier seems happy at the response, saying "this is your house."

Roier gives him his first taco [Timestamp: 3h 56m], having made a deal with Cucurucho that he'd give it 10 tacos (and more) in exchange for one taco from Cucurucho. It hurts his feelings that Cucurucho doesn't have an enthusiastic reaction about the taco, and after he makes a huevo joke and Cucurucho shooting him then pretends like nothing happened, Roier feels really bad. Roier tells Cucurucho it can't treat him like this and pouts for a bit.

When he tries asking Cucurucho its name, it just responds with "no" and when Roier tries asking it why there are two of them, the upstairs one says "I don't know." Roier asks Cucurucho to let him go so he can get more materials to make more tacos, and Cucurucho tells him no.

While waiting for Cucurucho to finish writing him an answer via book, Roier gives Cucurucho back the amapola (poppy) it gave him earlier, pretending to spit at him because he's mad [Timestamp 3h 58m 50s]. Cucurucho hands him a book that says "Finish what I told you." They part ways with Roier (half-jokingly) saying, "You know what Osito Bimbo, you know what? I'm tired of you treating me badly. You and I are no longer friends," and dramatically logs out.

Day 5 - A Final Message

Roier logs in and immediately finds potted amopola (poppies) in his house. At the top of the stairs is another singular amapola, two tacos, and this book:

Translation: 0037. Through this I want to express my most sincere apologies for treating you as a slave. We are sorry for any discomfort I may have caused you. We hope you continue to enjoy the island at its best. You won't see me, but I will see you. Best regards, Federal QSMP Commission

There are a few things weird with this message, namely the fact that it's signed by the Federal QSMP Commission, and the use of "I" vs "We" in several places (though I chock that up to translation inconsistencies, so YMMV).

I briefly wondered what the significance of 0037 was before I remembered that was Roier's ticket number.

Why refer to him by a number instead of a name? Does this confirm that they're all part of an experiment?

Anyways, Roier says, "No! No!!! I want to keep seeing you Osito!" and responds to that message with this:

Translation: Hello my dear Osito Bimbo :) I like you, please keep showing up. And that's all, uwu

As far as I'm aware, none of the books from Osito Bimbo up until this point used smiley-faces, but after this, Cucurucho started using them in some of its books. Did it learn that from Roier?

(To give you a timeframe reference for where we are: this same day, Roier is later betrayed by Spreen and Quackity. In one fell swoop, Roier lost many of the people he cared about, and who cared about him, all in one day.)

Day 6

[Timestamp 2h 32m] Quackity says he doesn't want to give any spoilers, but he warns Fit, Vegetta, and Roier to be careful around Cucurucho.

Day 10 - Cucurucho is back, but isn't the same

[Timestamp: 2h 12m 30s] At the adoption center (where Mariana is trying to comfort JuanaFlippa, who says she wants a new family) Roier sees Osito Bimbo spying on them and chases after it, but it vanishes.

Later, while Roier is with Jaiden, he tells her there's more than one Cucurucho, then sees Cucurucho standing on top of one of the buildings near spawn / the wall. Roier tells Cucurucho, "Come here! I missed you!" Cucurucho doesn't come. For whatever reason, Jaiden can't see it. Roier says to Cucurucho, "Ok, well maybe later I can see you in my house. You are going to come, because I know you! I know you like the back of my hand" (Cucurucho shakes its head "no" at this)

[Timestamp 2h 59m] After Roier and Jaiden put Bobby to bed and Jaiden logs out, Roier does a few laps around the castle while talking to Chat. When he comes back a few minutes later, he finds the entry to Bobby's room blocked off and a sign in front of it that reads: "Don't touch your son."

Here's where things get interesting: for context, between this stream and the last time Roier streamed on the QSMP, Mariana and Slimecicle broke into Leonarda's house and misclicked the bed. Since then, a new rule was implemented on the server saying that if an Egg's bed breaks, they lose a life.

Was Cucurucho trying to warn Roier, and potentially save Bobby's life?

Anyways, Roier immediately breaks the blocks and runs upstairs to check on Bobby. He laughs, thinking Bobby is playing a prank on him, then realizes Bobby (and the admin) isn't logged in. He then asks, "Cucurucho?" out loud and starts looking around for it. Roier starts theorizing, saying no one can get through his door since he has a whitelist and only a few people can enter. He checks the house for any weakpoints that someone could sneak in through, but there are none, and he determines that Bobby is safe.

Roier mentions that Cucurucho isn't acting like its usual self. When they do finally meet again in the castle courtyard, Cucurucho keeps its distance from him.

Roier: Well, I'm here, is there anything you want to ask me? I've seen you around, watching me. Do you want to know something about me?

Cucurucho: Classified.

Roier: Are you holding a book? Why haven't you visited me? Tell me.

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: Ouch, now you don't want to tell me anything. Do you not like me anymore?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Do you not like me anymore? I thought we… I thought we were buddies.

Cucurucho: Maybe. I don't know.

[ A short time later, Roier starts singing a song and doing a little dance for Cucurucho ]

Roier: – And that's how it went. Huh? Don't you remember? How come you don't remember? Those were good times, when we spent time together! How come you don't remember? Remember!!!!

Cucurucho: I don't know (It repeats this several times)

Roier: No you DO know! Come down. First of all, come down. Why are you talking to me from up there? Come down, don't be so rude.

Cucurucho: No. (Repeated several times)

Roier: Come on, why not? Come! Are you jealous?* *(He says "Ta celoso", celoso is jealous and oso is bear, so he's making a pun)

Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. (Turns to leave)

Roier: I do enjoy it a lot, Osito! Osito!

Roier runs after Cucurucho and confronts it yet again. Cucurucho gives him a book that has his ticket number in it, then tries to leave again.

[Timestamp 3h 7m] Roier follows it, even digging to go underground with it to keep up, asking why it gave him a book with his train ticket number on it.

Roier: Stop playing a fool, where are you going? I won't stop following you

Cucurucho: [ Fires two warning shots on either side of Roier ]

Roier: What, are you going to kill me? Come on, kill me! Shoot me! Kill me! Murder me right here! Are you going to leave a child without a father? Are you going to leave Jaiden without a partner?

Cucurucho opts to run away, and Roier continues following it until it goes somewhere he can't (under lava) leaving him shouting, "You can't leave me like this!"

Day [ ? ]

I'm uncertain what day this happens, but someone pointed out this important conversation Roier has with Bobby around day 32. [CLIP]

Roier: Have you seen a white bear around?

Bobby: [ Wiggles to indicate "no" ]

Roier: You haven't seen him around… He's an old friend of mine, he's an old friend of mine. He could help us out with anything we need. I know I can count on him.

Day 32 - Love, Understanding, and Tenderness

[Timestamp 2h 39m] While they're in the castle, Bobby suddenly pulls out his gun and leads Roier outside. Roier asks what's wrong, then sees Cucurucho standing on the balcony above them.

[Timestamp 2h 41m] After messing around with his new stretchy tentacle gun that lets him Spider-man swing, he finally gets up to where Cucurucho is. Cucurucho greets him with a "Buenos Dias" then asks how Roier is doing. Roier says he's doing fine, then asks Cucurucho how it is and what its been doing.

Cucurucho: I was informed you were looking for me.

Roier: Yes, that's right. Where were you all that time? Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you leave my life?

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Osito Bimbo, why did you stop talking to me?

[ Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "Do you need anything?" ]

Roier: Yes. What I need is love, understanding, and tenderness.

[Bobby punches him off the tower]

Roier: Anyways, I was saying –

Cucurucho: Observation.

Roier: Observation? Let's see, but did you leave because you had to, or did you leave because they made you? What happened?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: I already know what happened, I know what happened. It was Mariana, Mariana bothered you and told you, "YOU LIKE ROIER you like him, you like Roier!" Right? Was that it?

Cucurucho: [ Turns away and hangs its head ]

Roier: Hey, yes or no? Tell me. You got trapped--

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: What?

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: [Laughs] What is that laugh? You're laughing to make the moment less awkward, right? This is a defense mechanism. "Hahaha."

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Well, if you don't want to answer, that's fine. You don't send me WhatsApp or anything. You don't love me. We are no longer friends. [He starts to hop away, then turns back to see Cucurucho's response]

[Cucurucho hands him a book that says, "On this island there are many things to do."]

Roier: For example, that?

[Roier moves to stand closer to Cucurucho, then Bobby knocks him off the tower again. Roier "Spider-man"s his way back up the tower, and he and Cucurucho are face to face again]

Cucurucho: Classified

Roier: What do you mean by that, what do you mean by that? Tell me! What is there to do here, what is there to do? Tell me.

Cucurucho hands him this book, which says: "We are preparing things for your enjoyment. Thank you very much for your patience."

Roier: Ok, but is that the reason you no longer speak with me? You're very busy?

Cucurucho: [Nods]

Roier is concerned about Cucurucho's voice and asks if it's still able to say yes or no, and Cucurucho proves it can still say that. Roier asks Cucurucho if it needs to go and it says yes. Roier says: "You could stay with us and eat taquitos" drink Jamaica water or horchata if you like that more," and starts offering Cucurucho more and more food. Bobby falls off the building and Roier has to leave and go revive him, and Cucurucho again asks if he needs anything and apologizes for the inconvenience, saying its busy.

Roier: As I was telling you before, what I need is love, understanding, and tenderness. Do you have that?

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: Why are you laughing? That makes you laugh?

[Cucurucho hands him a book that says Las Casualonas is on the other side of the Island]

Roier: [Laughing] But it's not that, there is that but it's not love.* Besides, I work there! I am Las Casualonas! I mean I can't go there because I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love, I'm the one who gives love and tenderness, but who gives it to me? Who gives me love? Tell me, who gives me love?

*(The phrasing on this is a bit weird but in essence, that's what he said here)

[Bobby hits Roier again, wanting him to take them somewhere fun, and Cucurucho says, "Enjoy the Island" before leaving. Bad and Dapper have just arrived and are just hanging out, but follow Roier, who starts chasing Cucurucho, to watch the drama]

Roier: Osito, why are you leaving? Do you want to leave? If you want to leave, you can leave, if you don't love me anymore, it's ok. No it's ok, if you don't love me anymore, then leave. Leave.

[Roier momentarily glances back at Bad, who's just standing there just silently watching their private conversation while Dapper's taking photos like a weirdo]

Cucurucho hands him a book that says: "What are you talking about?" then starts fishing.

Roier: Don't be stupid, don't act like an idiot, if you don't love me anymore, you can go.

Cucurucho doesn't leave, continuing to fish until Bad gets closer, and it throws him the fishing pole then turns to leave.

Roier: (To Bad) Don't be such a gossip! (To Cucurucho) No no no! Well, if you want to go, go. I asked you to screw me, not fail me.*

*I have no idea how to translate this, it's slang so don't take it literally but I genuinely don't know how to translate that.

Cucurucho shoots Roier and leaves.

Day 34 - Who is the Host?

[Timestamp 3h 44m 30s] Roier talks to Bobby about Cucurucho, calling it his friend. He says he wants to talk to Cucurucho again and starts singing "Baby Come Back"

Roier does a "ritual" trying to get Cucurucho to visit, and it (miraculously) works. Rainbow Cucurucho appears, and acts stranger than usual (which is saying something, considering this is Cucurucho we're talking about). This is their exchange [I'll add a clip later]:

Cucurucho: Good morning. What are you doing? We're from the QSMP Federation. It was reported that you were looking for me

Roier: I missed you! I was looking for you. I have a question Cucurucho, lately, I have seen people saying I work for the Federation. People are saying that I work for you. Cucurucho, you and I know-

Cucurucho: Hahaha

Roier: Exactly! You laugh because you and I are only friends, right, we are friends. [Long pause] …Right?

Cucurucho: I don't know.

Roier: Nah, you know, you know. Cucurucho, I don't know what you are, but you… you love me. You can't deny that. You love me: yes or no?

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

Roier: Nahhh no no no, Cucurucho, do you love me: yes or no? Do you love me? Yes or no? Wait- don't go Cucurucho- !

Cucurucho: No.

Roier: No?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Ok, Cucurucho. I have a question for you- I have a question for you. Let's see. If you don't like me, why do you come when I call you? If I'm not to your liking, why do you come? Every time I call, you answer. Tell me.

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucuruchito, because I've known you since we first got here, I know you. There will be people who arrived a few days ago-

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS THE DUTY OF A GOOD HOST. IF THEY CALL ME, IT IS MY DUTY TO COME. ]

Roier: How is that the duty of a good Host? You are the Host? You are a Host? Host.... of a program show for children?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO DO RITUALS ]

Roier: Ok... then Cucurucho, Cucurucho, Cucurucho, then let's see- clarify something for me- [Cucurucho starts to build up and go away] Nononono don't go! Wait wait wait. What do you mean you are a Host? Are you a Host? By "Host" do you mean the presenter of a program? Or do you mean that you are the Host of the Island?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucurucho? I thought we were friends. I don't know. So you just come because I call you? Because- because you are a good host?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU WERE INVITED TO THE ISLAND. THAT'S RIGHT, A HOST. ]

Roier: But Cucurucho, wait- wait wait wait- I mean, you say you are nothing but an asset? In other words, you are just active, because you don’t want to look bad to me? That’s why?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WE COME WHEN YOU NEED SOMETHING. TO THE GUESTS, I GIVE WHAT THEY DESERVE. ]

Roier: ...Ok. It's fine. It's fine, Cucurucho. It's fine. Ok, but but you told me you were the Host. Are you the host?

Cucurucho: Hahaha.

Roier: Ok Cucurucho. I won't bother you anymore. I just wanted to see you again, but now it's clear to me... that you don't like* me. You never liked me. You come because you don't want to look bad in front of me because you want to be a good Host -- or do you want to make the Host look good?

* Roier uses the word "querer" here which is more sentimental than just "like"

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WANT IS A TERM I DON'T KNOW ]

Roier: So… they force you? They force you? Are you being forced?

Cucurucho: Enjoy the Island. [Runs away]

Roier: [Runs after it ] Are they forcing you to come here?! Cucurucho, answer me! I love you! I appreciate you! Are they forcing you to do this? Do they force you to come? ...Are you a real person? Are you a person disguised as a bear?

Cucurucho: ...

Roier: Cucurucho?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: YOU ARE THE ONE WHO FORCES ME TO COME. IF YOU NEED SOMETHING, IT IS MY DUTY. NOTHING ELSE. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING? ]

Roier: So when I need something from you, you'll come? Nothing more? Every time I need something, you come?

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: THOSE ARE THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE HOST. THAT'S HOW IT IS. ]

Roier: Cucurucho, the truth is, I don't want to lie to you. I've been very sad. I think I want to leave the island. I feel very sad Cucurucho.

[Bobby punches Roier, and Roier shakes his head and holds a finger up to his lips, telling Bobby to be quiet]

Cucurucho: [ Hands him a book that says: WHAT IS MISSING ON THIS ISLAND THAT YOU NEED TO BE HAPPY? ]

Roier: I'm missing... I... need more friends.

Cucurucho: [Gestures at Badboyhalo and Dapper, who have been lurking trying to listen in on their conversation]

Roier: Them? Them as friends? But I don't like him, he smells like avocado. [Bad punches him] I want friends who don't smell like avocado, and who don't write so much!

Cucurucho: [Gives Roier a cockroach and tells him to enjoy the Island, then turns to leave]

Roier: Ok, ok, thank you. [Roier chases after Cucurucho] You have a nice day too! Nobody forces you to do what you don't want to do! You're free! Goodbye Osito Bimbo. [Osito Bimbo pauses as Roier is attacked by a zombie mob, hesitating until it sees he's ok] Goodbye!

[Timestamp 3h 55m] Despite their farewells, Roier decides to follow Cucurucho more anyways to see where it goes.

[Timestamp 3h 57m 45s] Afterward, Roier and Bobby go home, and Roier tells Bobby (in a low voice to avoid anyone overhearing), "I think Cucurucho is sad. It's just that, I remember I used to hang out with him a lot when I first came to this Island. I hung out with him a lot. He always came to see me and help me. But from one moment to the next, I realize that he had changed. He stopped being so kind to me, and in fact he gave me a book. He had been telling me for many days that he was going to stop bothering me, it seems like he was scolded, but he acts like nothing's wrong. He acts like everything is fine, but I feel like they are forcing him. He's sad. He doesn't show it, but he wrote me a sad face."

Day 36 - The Federation takes Felps

[Timestamp 1h 16m] Cucurucho arrives at Roier's castle with half the server (all rainbow) in tow. Roier asks how Cucurucho is doing, and Cellbit confronts Cucurucho about the chainsaw incident, which Cucurucho denies happened. Roier intervenes, telling people not to fight. Maximus pulls Roier aside, telling him something strange is happening with Felps because he's acting like he's "Cucurucho's best friend", and Maximus wonders if he's being brainwashed.

Cucurucho spends this entire time giving people gifts acting harmless, until Cellbit intervenes again.

Cellbit: Roier, Roier, don't trust Cucurucho, he's a liar.

Roier: Why?

Cucurucho: Why?

Cellbit: Don't believe him. He tortured me with a chainsaw.

Roier: He tortured you? Ah, you did tell me. Cucurucho, is that true?

Cucurucho: [shakes its head] No

Cellbit: He's lying, he's lying! Guapito, believe me, believe me.

Roier: Ok, I believe you, gatinho, I believe you gatinho. [He repeats "I believe you" over and over]

Cellbit: Be careful around him, ok? He's a manipulator, a liar. Do not believe his lies!

[As Cellbit says this, Cucurucho hangs its head]

Roier: I knew him from a long time ago. And he was not always like that. He was good before. But I don't know. What happened to you?

[Timestamp 1h 57m] Felps is taken by the Federation, and Cellbit, Maximus, and Roier confront Cucurucho, who laughs and says "I hope you enjoy the Island," offering them no answers.

[Timestamp 2h 8m 40s] Cellbit takes Roier and the other boys to the Theory Bros room, where they discuss the events from today and theories about Cucurucho]

Roier: Let me explain one thing. Cucurucho was very good to me. But then one day, he was very strange, you know? He was like… doing strange things, I don't know how to explain. But he was very good at the beginning, but then— he was like the Host.

Cellbit: Maybe at first he was really worried about making a good impression, and after that he started to let his guard down, and you caught him red-handed doing something weird.

Roier: Maybe the Host changed Cucurucho. I dunno, that's a theory.

Day 37

The longer Roier hung out with Cellbit and the Theory Bros, the more his opinion of Cucurucho soured.

[Timestamp 3h 16m] After a chat with Richarlyson about his art skills, he asks him to draw Cucurucho, and they draw what they think it looks like together.

[Timestamp 3h 26m] They show off their finished artwork to Cellbit, and both he and Roier call it "The true face of Cucurucho." Roier's art is on the bottom, Richarlyson's is the one on top.

Roier: This person, this one here, is the true Cucurucho. The devil.

Cellbit: A demon of the apocalypse.

Day 41 - Reviving Bobby

[Timestamp: 17m] Cucurucho visits Roier and Jaiden a few days after Bobby's death. It tells him to gather his friends to try and rescue Bobby, and gives him this book:

[See it from Jaiden's POV]

Roier: I didn't lie to you. I told you I have new friends, I told you, and now they're all here.

Cucurucho: If you want to see [Bobby] again, there's a price to pay.

But they don't get Bobby back.

Cucurucho: I told you. Everything has a price.

Roier: Was that the price? All those deaths?

Cucurucho: Yes :) […] There is a high price to pay when it comes to life and death. 10 minutes is the best I could get you.

In reality, they wound up getting 25. Realistically, this was probably just the admins feeling bad for Roier and Jaiden because frick dude, that was depressing, but if we want to give an in-universe explanation for it, Cucurucho might've given them more time.

Even so, Roier still vows he'll hold a trial against the Federation to try and get Bobby back.

Day 47 - A series of unfortunate events

I'm gonna TLDR this because so much happened on this day I'd recommend just watching the VOD, but essentially: Jaiden makes a deal with Cucurucho in the hopes that in return, they'll get something that will help protect the Eggs forever. Roier, distrustful of Cucurucho, stays close to keep an eye on things, and he has some back and forth interactions with Cucurucho that are reminiscent of their early day interactions, but are layered with sadness and mistrust.

Miscellaneous

Alright this post is getting long enough as it is, but let's run through some other oddities:

When Cellbit was trying to join the Federation, Cucurucho gave him a task that was specifically about Roier, asking him what he needs to be happy, why he's sad, and what would make him smile. Perhaps it's understandable that Cucurucho would be interested in one of the most depressed members of the Island, because the whole point of the Island is to make people happy, but considering their past friendship / relationship, detail of Cucurucho singling out Roier is something worth noting (particularly since it knows Cellbit is also close to Roier). Also idk, something about the way it's phrased as, "What would make him smile?" makes my heart ache

Cucurucho's task and Cellbit's answers:

Other things of interest other people have brought up:

Roier (used to) keep all the books Cucurucho gave him in a chest

I should also note here that Cucurucho has always been kind to Jaiden as well. Despite terrifying her that first day, it also gave her a blue parrot. While Jaiden has always been cautious of Cucurucho, she's always been polite as well. When everyone went to save Bobby, she stopped to say thank you to Cucurucho (presumably thanking it for giving them the chance to save Bobby).

There's a lot I could say about Jaiden's interactions with Cucurucho, but if I did this post would be twice as long, so I'll have to save that for another day I'm afraid :'D

If there's anything I missed, please send it to me so I can add it here, or add it in the reblogs!

UPDATE: This thread compiles even more moments between Cucurucho and Roier and includes translated clips

#QSMP #Roier #Cucurucho #Bimboier #Osito Bimbo #The Federation #QSMP talk #I talk #Y'ALL BETTER APPRECIATE THIS I MISSED A QUACKITY STREAM WRITING THIS #I spent wayyyyy to long doing research for this wtf #I wish I hadn't timed myself #qsmp analysis

628 notes · View notes

i9messi · 9 months

Text

For me — Pablo Gavi

Gavi is jealous of the way in which everyone seems to be obsessed with you and your food.

Word count — 1,2k

a/n: it's been a long time since the last time I wrote about gavi, but here i am! i've missed my boy

gavi's masterlist

It was Frenkie’s birthday and since you were a friend of his, you had decided to bake a cake for him. Cooking was something you were passionate about and you liked to be able to prepare pastries. Your boyfriend Gavi was the one who enjoyed everything you baked, and even though he was strictly forbidden to eat certain things due to his diet and his profession as a footballer, at the end of the day he always gave some bite to what you prepared.

Mikky had invited you to the apartment she shared with her boyfriend, where you were waiting for the birthday boy to arrive. Today’s training was to end in the next few minutes.

"Hi!"

Pedri was the first to appear, in the company of Ferran Torres and Raphinha. The boys came to greet you, and the first stayed with you, while the other two went with Frenkie's girlfriend.

"How are you, Pedri?"

"Well, better now that I see you brought something to eat. You know you’re my favorite, right?"

Pedri winked at you, accompanying his comment with a smile. He was the only one who had that kind of trust with you.

"I know you’re just saying I’m your favorite so I can give you a bigger slice of cake. It's fine, just don’t tell my boyfriend, he tends to get angry when I give you a bigger slice."

"It’s our secret."

The door opened for the second time and more Barça players appeared, among them, was Gavi. When he noticed your presence, his face lit up and a pretty smile appeared on his lips. Pablo did not hesitate to come to you to give you a kiss, despite having seen him yesterday, you had missed him a lot.

"Hello, my love."

"Hi, amor."

"What are you doing here?"

Well, Gavi was a little forgetful about some things. And as much as you had told him several times that you were baking a cake for Frenkie, he had completely forgotten. When he saw you holding a box with what seemed to contain a cake, the feeling of being betrayed appeared.

"It’s Frenkie’s birthday and Mikky invited me, I brought him a cake."

At the time you didn’t notice the look on Gavi’s face, because you heard that the guys were starting to mention that Frenkie was coming. You handed the cake to Mikky and waited for the arrival of the Barça player. Frenkie appeared just a couple of minutes later, and when everyone shouted his name, he smiled like never before. All of you wished him a happy birthday. His family and girlfriend were the first to approach him, then his teammates, and finally, you.

"You bake me the cake, don't you?"

You nodded, while Araujo complained loudly.

"It’s unfair, I also want a cake for my birthday."

"Yes, so do I. I love the food you make." Ferran Torres also joined in the flattering comments.

Smiling, you approached your boyfriend and hugged him from behind. He was a little serious and you had a feeling something had happened to him. However, you thought you were going to ask him later, because maybe he was just angry about something that had happened in training and with which you had nothing to do with.

Without knowing it, you were wrong. Gavi was jealous of the way everyone was constantly praising you. Maybe it was a childish thought, but you were his. You had chosen him. It was like everyone else wanted to steal a piece of you that only belonged to him.

While everyone started tasting your cake, you went to the kitchen, where there was another box that you had brought. You grabbed it.

"I made macarons too."

"I love you!" shouted Ferran and grabbed one of the macarons.

Gavi didn’t like hearing Ferran say he loved you.

And like every time they ate something you cooked, the compliments started. One by one they came, making you smile. Gavi looked at his teammates and he felt like every comment was worse.

It was Pedri who spoke first.

"Watch out, Gavi, if your girlfriend keeps baking like this, they’re gonna want to steal her from you."

"This is great, could you give me the recipe later?" Raphinha made a passive comment, oblivious to what was happening in the room.

"Yes, sure."

And Ansu Fati joined in the provocations, "If you ever end your relationship with Gavi here I am, I’m not opposed to you cooking me tasty food every single day."

"Oye, tío. I’m here." Gavi complained and you looked at him.

"They’re kidding, they’re just being nice to me. I’m glad they liked what I cook."

Gavi decided to shut up, knowing that his teammates noticed his annoyance and they only did it to make him even more angry. You held his hand all the time and every time you looked at each other, you kissed him. When it was time to leave, you got on an Uber and headed home.

"Do you want to go in? There are more macarons in there, I made them especially for you."

Gavi sighed and nodded.

"Okay."

Your boyfriend got out of the car and the two of you came into your house. You went towards the kitchen, where you brought two glasses of milk and left the macarons on the kitchen table. Gavi ate them quietly and that’s when you knew you had to talk to him.

"What is it, baby?"

"Nothing."

"Are you upset?"

"I’m not."

"Oh, come on. It’s obvious something’s happened to you, you’ve been serious and you barely spoke to me. What’s going on? Did the boys bother you? They were just kidding."

Gavi decided it was time to be honest with you.

"I’m tired of the way they’re always talking about you. It’s like they always find an occasion to mention you in every conversation. They used to say you’re a perfect girlfriend and that they want to steal you from me. And I don’t like it, none of that."

"I don’t like how Ferran was telling you today that he loved you and Ansu saying he was going to steal you from me. I want you to cook for me, not for them. You’re my girlfriend, not theirs."

"Oh, you’re jealous, Gavi."

"Maybe I am. But who wouldn’t be? Seeing you with them while smiling at them annoys me to no end."

"You’re right, Gavi. I’m your girlfriend and let me tell you the truth. I like it when you’re the one telling me you love my food, and I like it when you help me cook and you’re always stealing me little spoonfuls. I love you. There is nothing to worry about. No matter what, the only opinion I care about is yours. The only compliment I care about is yours. I'm so in love with you, Gavi."

And you came over and left a kiss on his lips. Gavi's lips tasted like the chocolate macaron he was eating. During the kiss, he smiled.

"Do you promise me you’ll always be there for me? That doesn’t matter what others might say, will you always be mine?"

"I am and always will be yours, Gavi."

"I love you, amor."

"I love you, bonito."

#pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi blurb #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi #gavi one shot #gavi fluff #gavi blurb #gavi one shots

682 notes · View notes

1-800-kami · 6 months

Text

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK .. feat. gojo satoru

.. two star-crossed lovers who make an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life.

content: 1.8k words, fem!reader, angst (with a little comfort), first half takes place during chapter 236, (so MAJOR manga spoilers ahead) character death, reincarnation au, gojo is a future lawyer, VERY bittersweet

author's note: it's been a minute since i've last uploaded a fic lmao </3 i've mainly been doing smau's (because they're very fun to do and take less effort) but here's a short gojo fic that's been resting in my drafts for a while. it's a reincarnation au that i wrote while listening to slow dancing in the dark..so enjoy! -kami <3

interact and reblog for a kiss ;)

it’s cold on the battlefield.

the wind nips at your skin until it feels like you’re about to freeze over. you feel the coldness seeping into your skin—entering and traveling up your veins until it eventually reaches your already ice-cold heart.

the scene in front of you feels all too familiar. you’ve seen it a thousand times over in the past–the image plaguing your sleep, turning what’s supposed to be a time to rest into a time of nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat. your lover, gojo satoru, is on the ground, eyes on the precipice of losing its shine. and there’s red, fuck–there’s so much red. a pool of red lies underneath gojo and it’s all you can see.

usually, at this point, you’d wake up, mind all over the place and heart racing. satoru… where’s satoru? you’d panic, feeling the covers for your lover and exhaling a sigh of relief when you find him curled up next to you.

he’d always get up after you, knowing that you’d experience the occasional nightmare of him leaving you. satoru understands this very well. he has nightmares of you leaving him too. he’d make sure to hug your shaking, crying form until your sobs eventually ceased. “i’m right here, love. i’m not going anywhere. i’m the strongest, you know? you should have more faith in me.”

wake up. y/n. this isn’t real, right? wake up. you pinch your skin and dig your nails into your palms, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. except, you don’t wake up, and with the newly made marks etched on your skin lighting your nerves on fire, you realize this isn’t a dream. this time, gojo’s not there to ease your worries and reassure you that he’s alive–that he’s never going to leave your side.

with that realization, you feel yourself moving again. you scream satoru’s name with a voice plagued with nothing but agony and despair. you run over to his side, panic filling your senses when you feel his body and get all the red on your hands. red. it’s never had a negative connotation to you before. there was red on the roses that satoru had given you on valentines day. red on the heart-shaped gold necklace he’d gifted you on your anniversary (that you’ve never taken off since). red on the box of chocolates that he’d given to you on an ordinary day. “what? does there have to be a special occasion to show my girlfriend how much i love her?”

now, your perception of the color red has been tainted for the rest of your life. it’s the only thing you can see, and you want to close your eyes forever just so you don’t have to see that crimson shade ever again. “satoru, you said you’d never leave... you lied to me!”

he coughs weakly, using all his remaining strength to weakly take your hands in his. there’s a small smile on his face, and his peaceful expression only makes you sob harder. an expression that shows that he’s accepted his fate. “gosh, i’m getting your clothes all dirty. i’m sorry, princess…”

“can you promise me something, though? before i’m gone…” he whispers, and you nod your head, ready to do anything for him. “promise me we’ll meet again, okay?”

that catches you off guard. “w…what do you mean?”

“we’ll meet again, in another life, and i’ll love you all over again.” he smiles cheekily, and you hold his hand a little tighter, sobs racking your core and making your entire body shake. “have you ever imagined living a normal life? a life where sorcerers and curses are all alien words, and i’m not “the strongest”?…a life where i’m just like everyone else, and i get to marry you because no shitty higher-ups are holding me back anymore. god, i think about that all the time. i’ve realized that i’d like that version of life with you more than anything.”

you think that everyone in the jujutsu society has had that thought at least once. sometimes, the idea of being an ignorant civilian unknowingly living in a world filled with curses and despair seemed preferable. and yet, you’ve chosen to be a sorcerer, and perhaps this is the worst part to it. constantly losing the ones you’ve held closest to your heart–all to protect a group of people who aren’t even remotely aware of the sacrifices that sorcerers have made so that they can live a normal life.

“i’ve always wanted that too, s’toru.” you whisper, in fear of your voice breaking if you speak too loudly. “yeah… a regular life without curses. what do you think it’ll be like?”

“hm… let me think. i’ve always wanted to be a dad, y’know?” satoru teases, and the two of you are lost in your own world as you both envision a life where you can be together without any repercussions. “megumi doesn’t count, cause ‘m not his biological dad. i want a little me running around in a house that we’ve worked so hard to buy. and who knows? maybe we’ll have more kids. maybe one or two more-”

“three kids?! that’s a lot, satoru.” you say in mock surprise, though you can’t expect less from your boyfriend. “hey.. does that mean we’ll get married?”

“of course, sweetheart. you’re the only love i’ve ever known. ‘m sorry i have to leave you like this. but i’ll come back for you in our next life, okay?” he hisses as he uses all his strength to grip your shaky hands a little tighter. you can tell his adrenaline’s wearing off, but you’re not ready to let go.

i’ll come back for you in our next life.

every second you’ll spend waiting for satoru seems like an eternity. “i’ll propose to you with a beautiful ring ‘nd you’ll be…”

he coughs up a little bit of blood, voice hoarse and barely holding on. yet, gojo persists on using whatever strength he has to talk to you.

“you’ll be y/n gojo. i like the sound of that…” he whispers, and both of you know that his time has run out. the red on your skin is beginning to dry, and it feels like it’s tainted you forever. “i love you, princess.”

“i love you too, satoru. i’ll see you soon.” gojo’s grip on your hands loosen. you whisper his name again, looking for a response, but you’re only met with silence. he’s left you alone just like how everyone else has left you. nanami, geto, haibara, and now satoru.

you don’t scream or sob once you realize that satoru’s gone. in fact, your tears have ceased, but it's instead replaced with this empty feeling—like a hollow hole in your chest that can’t be filled with anything to make you feel whole again.

the battlefield is cold, but gojo’s limp body feels colder.

gojo satoru is twenty-two years old. he’s a slightly above-average man (both figuratively and literally) standing at six foot three, boasting looks that’ll make anyone fawn over him. it took him almost two years to decide on a major, but after trying a little bit of everything (and falling asleep during every business class that he took with his friend nanami) satoru settled on choosing a political science major to become a lawyer.

despite having looks that grant him the ability to get any girl that he wants, satoru’s spent his whole life looking for a girl that he’s never even met before.

he remembers everything–and every part about you. sometimes, he thinks that all the memories he’s spent with you were just some sort of dream, and yet, they seemed so vivid. sometimes, satoru chastises himself, a part of him wanting to just move on from you because he doesn’t even know if you actually exist–and yet, he’s been trying his entire life to find you because his memories told him that “he promised he would”.

were they memories or were they dreams? he doesn’t know what to think anymore.

but then, gojo satoru finally gets his questions answered one spring afternoon.

he passes by a cute bakery while walking home from school, and feels his taste buds waking up as he stares at all the mouth-watering sweets displayed behind the store’s glass. the bakery has a wide variety of baked goods, as well as coffee. satoru’s so busy looking at the menu that the second he looks at the cashier, he feels his entire world stop.

it’s you.

and at that moment, satoru could feel all the memories flooding back in. no, they weren’t dreams. they were memories. satoru has lived a completely different life before this one, and this was a new life, a second life that was granted to satoru from whatever deity there was out there. all he ever wanted was to live a normal life without being renowned as “the strongest”, and most importantly, he wanted to live a normal life with you in the epicenter of it.

you. his entire world. his lifeline.

and now, you’re right in front of him, and satoru feels like he’s sixteen all over again–the year that you met him when you transferred into jujutsu high. the year you turned his entire world upside down. the year you–as well as his other friends, taught him how to live for a moment without caring about the overbearing pressure of expectation that was ever-present on his shoulders.

a glimmer of gold on your neck catches satoru’s eye.

it was the heart-shaped gold necklace that he’d given to you on your anniversary. the heart itself was crystallized red, and when you asked gojo to clasp it around your neck, you’ve always kept it on you.

he wonders if you ever took it off after he died.

“y/n?” the whisper almost felt pathetic with how much emotion he poured into it. you look up from your phone and finally meet his gaze for the first time in years.

two star-crossed lovers who made an oath to love each other like they’ve never loved before in their next life. the two of you have finally crossed paths again–but wait, there’s something terribly wrong.

“y/n? yeah… that’s my name.” you say, looking at your name tag that was pinned onto your apron. a look of confusion is etched onto your face–the man in front of you is looking at you with so much familiarity that you feel the need to know who he is. silvery white hair, cerulean blue eyes. his appearance makes him stand out so much that you would’ve definitely known who he was. you awkwardly adjust your name tag, unable to find any words to say other than:

“i’m sorry, but do i know you?”

311 notes · View notes