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randomshyperson · 6 months

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Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap. | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful. In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner.

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure."

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?"

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection."

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you.

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first.

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel.

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around.

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization.

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me."

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up."

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you."

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart."

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose." You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice."

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way.

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment.

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks.

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious.

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority.

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear."

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?"

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces.

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order:

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face.

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath.

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down.

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot.

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck.

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her.

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #kinktober 2023 #marvel imagines

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lostgirlmuseum · 3 months

Text

honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky notices you've been acting really strange lately... like, really strange. And flirty? What happened to you, and are your eyes... glowing?

Warnings: Mentions of reader having hair long enough to twirl, kissing w/o consent??? No use of y/n.

A/N: Hiiii. um. Is this bad? At first I didn't think so but then Idk I was like.. this isn't good. But then I was like, no it's fine... and then I was like no it's terrible, and now I'm like.. it's okay! I think? I'm sorry.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics, moodboard by me (more info at the end.)

It was late, and you felt sleep tug at your eyelids as you shut the door to the communal living room, a room you had to pass through to get to your bedroom. You were ready to get out of your street clothes, dry your damp hair, and get some shut-eye.

“Where have you been?” A gruff voice sounded and was quickly followed by the ‘click’ of a lamp and a dim light illuminating the figure seated in the corner of the room.

“Jesus!” You clutched your chest and nearly dropped your bag. “Fuck, Bucky, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing lurking in the dark?” You whispered harshly, although it was unnecessary. No one sleeping would be able to hear you from the living room.

“It’s three in the morning.” He stated, unmoving.

“I’m aware. Thanks.”

“This is the sixth time in two weeks you’ve come home this late.” His voice remained low, his tone both bored and accusatory.

“So you’re watching me now?” You scoffed, your heartbeat finally slowing from his previous scare.

“Our rooms are right next to each other, I know when you’re not in there.”

“Perv.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m going to ignore that.”

“Good night,” you offered and began to leave the room.

“You haven’t answered my question yet.” He leaned forward in his seat and placed his forearms on his thighs.

“My whereabouts aren’t your business.” You stopped at the doorway and spoke over your shoulder.

“Your whereabouts became my business the second it started affecting your ability in the field.” He stood up and took a couple of steps towards you.

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I worry that your negligence and refusal to take care of yourself is going to result in a failed mission, or maybe even you getting a fellow teammate hurt.”

“Aw, and for a second I thought you might actually care about me.” You faked a pout and continued your way down the hall and to your room. He followed you the entire way, not saying anything.

“My abilities are fine,” you stated, holding your ID up to the pad that would scan and unlock your door.

“You’ve been missing morning training, you’re slower than usual, and you’ve practically been falling asleep in your breakfast.” He sidestepped you to get a better view of your face.

You ignored Friday’s “Welcome back,” chime and stepped inside your room.

“Careful now, or I might start to suspect you’re a stalker.” You teased and began to close your door on him, but he pushed it back open.

“And why the hell is your hair damp? Because I know it wasn’t raining outside.”

“I’m going to bed now, Barnes.”

“If you don’t tell me where you’ve been I’ll bring my concerns to Steve.”

You rolled your eyes at his intense stare. “I’ve been doing some research.”

“On?” He lowered his hand from the door at your answer, secretly surprised you’d actually given him something.

“Nunya.”

“What’s—”

“Nunya business,” you laughed and slammed the door shut before he realized what you’d done.

You stifled a laugh at the grumbles you heard from behind your door and imagined how funny he looked out there. Fool.

Bucky stood at the kitchen counter pouring syrup on his waffles, trying his hardest not to think about the events of last night. Just as his frustration was slipping his mind, he heard footsteps entering the room.

“Hi,” he offered roughly, not bothering to look up from his waffles as he could sense that it was you.

“Hey, pretty baby.”

Bucky choked on air and dropped the syrup bottle onto his plate, regrettably spilling half the container onto his now soggy waffles.

“Wh—what?” he tried to compose himself, eyebrows pinched in shock and confusion as he finally looked up at you.

“Pass me that peach, won’t you? I’m famished.” You slid onto a seat at the counter that Bucky was on the other side of, and pointed to the fruit bowl to his right.

Bucky, suddenly too stunned to speak, wordlessly handed you the peach. Only after watching you take a couple of bites did he find his words again.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

“A girl can’t be hungry?” You wiped some juice from your mouth with the back of your hand and tilted your head innocently.

“What are you wearing?” His gaze shifted to your glamorous outfit, one he was shocked that you owned. He had never seen you dressed up so much.

“Oh, this?” You glanced down at your scarlet silk slip dress and set your peach on the counter. “Just a little something I found buried in the back of my closet. Do you like it?” You stood and gave him a little spin.

Bucky blushed and snapped his mouth shut, wondering how long he had his jaw dropped. Before Bucky could process what was happening, you had made your way in front of him and grabbed his vibranium arm.

“Stunning,” you breathed, inspecting it like you’d never really noticed it before. Bucky continued to stare as you laced your fingers, of which were adorned by many rings, with his metal ones. You held it up appreciatively.

Bucky swallowed as his gaze found your wrist. “That’s Tony’s watch.”

“I found it. Shiny, right? He won’t miss it.” You giggled, continuing to ogle his hand.

Bucky began to utter your name, but the word was cut off by your pointer finger meeting his lips, effectively shushing him.

“Don’t call me that,” you ordered, and Bucky could sense your hostility, though it was quickly fading.

“You mean your name?” He mumbled once your hand receded.

“Call me Honey.” You grinned, voice smooth and silky again.

“Why?”

You brought his metal hand up to hold your cheek and used your other hand to gently grab his chin. Bucky could’ve sworn your eyes had a subtle gold sheen. You watched his pinched brows rise as you guided his lips to yours. The kiss lasted no more than three seconds before you pulled away, smirking at the way he gawked.

“Because I’m sweet?” You brazenly offered, leaving him a final kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I’ll see you later,” you smiled and walked away without glancing back once.

Bucky stood dazed, jaw loosely open again, blue eyes wide. Snapping himself out of it, he looked at the clock. 9:32. Bucky was certain you first walked in at 9:20. How long had he been standing there alone in shock?

He whipped his head around the room for any hidden cameras or even a sign that he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was daydreaming? But his eyes fell onto the half-eaten fruit abandoned on the counter, and he subconsciously licked his lips.

A subtle peach flavor lingered on his tongue.

“You’re seriously telling me you haven’t noticed anything off about her?” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Sam stretch for his run.

“I’ve hardly seen her lately,” Sam mumbled, bent over and touching his toes.

“She kissed me.”

“Ha, sure.”

“Sam, she kissed me.”

“Wait,” Sam shot upwards and nearly tripped from the movement, “you’re serious? When? Why?”

“This morning. I don’t know why. She was acting—I don’t know! Weird!”

“I would say kissing you is a solid indication of weirdness.”

Bucky ignored his comment.

“I swear, I saw her eyes glow…or shimmer, or something,” he added, looking off distantly.

“Cool it, loverboy,” Sam laughed.

“No,” Bucky grabbed Sam’s shoulder, tired of not being taken seriously, “I mean literally glow. Like, gold.”

“Where is she now?”

“Not sure.”

“Okay, well as long as she’s not hurting anybody I’m sure it’s nothing to be too concerned about. Maybe she’s wearing colored contacts? It’s a thing now.”

The next day Bucky knocked on your door. You opened it, and Bucky was surprised to see you covered in triple the amount of jewelry you had yesterday. Gold and silver bangles lined your arms, countless rings covered your fingers, and you even had some shiny new clips in your hair. He did notice that you still only had on a single necklace, the same golden topaz pendant you had yesterday.

“Hello, pretty boy.” You greeted, voice sickeningly sweet.

“Where did you go last night?” Bucky asked, straight to the point. He was more worried than ever now with your late-night adventures.

“Why? Worried I was with someone? Don’t be jealous, Darling.”

“You’re not in your right mind,” he said, catching the way your eyes shone again.

“My mind is perfectly clear, Sarge.” You smiled and shook your head at him like he was a child.

“I really don’t think so, ‘Honey’. Until yesterday, I wouldn’t have described you as a kleptomaniac.”

“It’s not a crime to like shiny things.” You laughed like he was the one being preposterous.

“But it is a crime to steal them. Cough it up.” Bucky snapped his fingers and held his hand out. He knew none of them were yours, and he wondered how many unsuspecting strangers you managed to con.

“You’re such a tease.” You tried but saw that he wasn’t going to budge. “Ugh, fine.”

One by one, you removed your collection from your body, starting with your diamond earrings. Bucky continued to place the jewelry in his many jacket pockets as you handed them over.

“Tony’s watch, too,” he chided when he noticed you made no effort to remove it. You gave a dramatic huff and unclasped it.

You had given him everything except the necklace and he was getting impatient.

“You’re being a child, give me the necklace—”

“No!” You screamed and swatted away his hand as it stretched toward your neck. “Don’t you fucking touch it.” You snarled.

“Jesus—” He nearly pissed his pants, he had never seen you so aggressive.

“I keep the necklace.” It was not a question.

“Fine.”

“You can leave. You’ve stolen my joy.” Your sultry and sweet demeanor had completely vanished, leaving you with a cold stare.

It was clear the instant you bared your teeth at him that the necklace was the culprit of your personality transplant and gilded eyes.

The big question was how was he going to get it off of you? And would taking it off of you be enough to fix you?

And does he even want to?

I mean, you are much nicer to him this way…

God, stop it Bucky! She needs your help. Start thinking with your brain.

Bucky cooked up a plan, and it involved more jewelry.

“I come with a peace offering.” Bucky knocked on your door, not too differently than how he did the day before.

“What is it?” You asked, cracking the door open in curiosity.

Bucky gave an awkward smile and held up a gold necklace he got Natasha to lend him.

“Oh my God, it’s magnificent,” you cooed, opening the door fully to let him in.

You had a one-track mind.

“Do you want me to help you put it on?” Bucky offered, hoping it would be that easy to fix you. It was simple—trade your cursed ‘voodoo doodoo’ necklace for a normal one.

“I’ll wear it later…I like the one I have on now.” You nodded, protectively clutching the golden gem.

Okay, so not as simple as he’d hoped.

“Fair enough. It is very pretty.”

“I know.” You smirked and took a seat on the side of your bed.

Bucky did his best to casually sit next to you.

“Where can I get one?” He asked, eyes lingering on your black skirt.

“You like shiny things too, handsome?” You asked, walking your fingers teasingly up his arm.

“Sure.” He suppressed a shiver as your fingers got closer to his neck.

“I hate to burst your bubble,” you laughed, bringing your hands to cup the pendant, “but this necklace is one of a kind.”

“And how did you get your hands on it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice light enough that you wouldn’t suspect his ulterior motive.

You bit your bottom lip as you thought of whether to tell him. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I’ll tell you a little, but only because you’re so cute.”

Cute? Fuck, you might be more fucked up than he thought if you’re thinking he’s cute.

“Someone hired me a couple of weeks ago to find it. I guess they were a fan, familiar with my investigative research before joining your ‘big league’ Avengers. I did a lot of work to find this puppy.” Your eyes only seemed to glow brighter when you stared at it.

Bucky knew he had to play this safe. If he took the immediate hostile route of ripping the necklace off of you, he’d be risking it failing, and then you wouldn’t trust him again. He realized he needed to give you another reason to get close to him, and his next thought made his cheeks warm.

“Why are you getting so blushy, soldier? Do I make you nervous?” You giggled.

“More than you realize,” he chuckled and let his gaze fall to his feet.

“You are just the sweetest thing. I’ve always taken a liking to you.”

“You have?” Bucky swung his head to you at your disclosure.

“How could I not?”

Come on Bucky. You can do this. Be a man.

You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this for her. You’re doing this also a little bit for yourse— no, you’re doing this for her!

“Can I kiss you?” He rushed, his voice only cracking once.

“You don’t need to ask, sweet thing.”

Bucky took a deep breath and closed his eyes, not wanting to see your distorted honey eyes bore into his. He leaned forward, met your plush lips, and slid one hand to your shoulder. One second you’re kissing, and the next he’s yanking the chain from your neck so quickly that you barely had time to scream.

The impact of his effort left you falling onto the floor and clutching your neck, heaving like you’d just come up for air after being underwater for much too long.

Bucky called your name and fell to his knees beside you, instinctively putting a hand on your back to console you.

“Hey, you’re okay! You’re okay,”

You looked up from the carpet into his worried eyes and let out a sharp sob.

“I don’t—I don’t even know what—” your stutters quickly dissolved and with a gasp, your hands flung from your neck to your mouth as if you couldn’t believe what you’d done. “Oh, Bucky, I’m so—I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, I know it wasn’t you,” he rushed, simply wanting that look off of your face.

“Stupid, so stupid,” you sputtered, and he couldn’t tell if you were referring to yourself or the necklace.

“Where did you get this?” Bucky asked, lifting the cursed pendant that he had yet to drop.

“A boat wreck just off the coast,” you said, itching at your neck.

“So that’s why your hair was wet…and someone’s been paying you? To find this?”

You nodded your head and pushed back the hair that fell into your face.

“Who?” Bucky gently grabbed your jaw to get you to look at him. “Why do they want it?”

“I don’t know, some art collector? They didn’t give me a name." You winced. "Can you please get that thing out of my sight? It’s making my head hurt.”

He glanced at the necklace, “Of course, I’m sorry,” and tossed it behind him.

You sat quietly for a moment, just thinking. You groaned and began to stand up. Bucky quickly offered his assistance.

“Buck, can we do this another night? I really just need to…I need to sleep this off I think.”

He quickly nodded, secretly embarrassed at being essentially kicked out, and shuffled to the door. Just as he was about to close it behind him, you called for him to wait.

Confused, he turned to see you racing up to him. You stood, gave a shy grin, and leaned in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered. "For saving me."

A chill crawled up Bucky’s spine.

He barely caught the golden glint in your eyes.

A/N: Maybe I should've spent longer on this, but I just got to the point where I felt like I needed to just post it. Please let me know if you liked it!

My Masterlist

image 1 image 2 image 3

*I edited using good ol' picsart

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

I have a Joel request 🥰 Maybe reader was pregnant when the beginning of the pandemic happened and they got separated until years later when they reunite and their kid is older?? Whether or not joel knows about the pregnancy is up to you 🫠

Fluffy and angsty if you wish, but please not too angsty cause my heart is still healing from that angst fic 😅💔

(I see someone has already brought up a similar idea, but I thought I'd request for your take on the story cause I can never get enough of your writing!!!)

AN | Don’t worry babe, I’ve got you! But really I love this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Joel?" your voice shook, and it was so painfully obvious that you were trying not to cry. Then again, a lot of people had been doing a lot of crying lately. You couldn't blame them; the world had basically ended.

And now it felt like yours was ending all over again. Fuck.

You padded into the living room of the apartment that now served as home for god knows how long. You found him sitting on the couch and staring out the window. He wasn't paying attention to what was going on out there, which happened to be very bleak at the moment.

"Joel?" you called his name again, moving closer and hesitantly putting your hand on his shoulder. He startled easily lately; you didn't want to be the cause of it. He finally snapped back into attention and looked at you, all dark circles and empty eyes. It broke your heart, "I-I have something to tell you."

He remained quiet but looked raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, suddenly at a loss for words.

How were you supposed to tell him that you were pregnant?

The world had come apart at the seams and he'd just lost his daughter. This was absolutely the worst in the world for all of this to happen.

You waved your hands for a moment, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole, "I-I'm-"

Before you could go any further, a loud knocking came at the door. Both of you startled as Joel jumped up and walked over to the door, opening it hurriedly, "what?"

"New horde of infected," a man's gruff voice reached your ears, "FEDRA wants everyone to pack up and go now."

"How far away?"

"Less than a mile."

You did not like the sound of that. A lump welled up in your throat as you looked at Joel helplessly. His face hardened into an unreadable expression before he gave the man, you were pretty sure his name was Nick, a hard nod, “we’ll be ready to go.”

“Good,” he was already moving along to the couple next door, “now go, there’s no time to lose.”

Joel slammed the door shut before letting out a long sigh. He was tired, so, so tired, but he couldn’t just give up. He had to keep going, he had to keep pushing.

“Joel?”

“Pack a bag, whatever you want grab,” he motioned towards the bedroom, “it doesn’t really matter anymore, but get what you need.”

“What’s going to happen?” your mind was reeling with worry; about you, him, the baby, and whatever the hell was about to go down, “I-I’m scared.”

“I know baby,” he set his large hands on your shoulders, “but right now you can’t worry about that. Just focus on getting your stuff and leaving. Ten minutes, okay? Then we have to get over to the FEDRA station and leave. Yes?”

“Yes,” you agreed shakily, already padding back to your bedroom to get the few possessions you had felt in the world.

Joel nodded as he went to grab his stuff, knives and guns and other weapons, agreeing to meet at the door shortly.

Time seemed to move in a combination of incredibly fast and wickedly slow and before you knew it, Joel was calling for you to leave. You met him at the door the two of you looked at each other in silent understanding.

The trek over to the FEDRA outpost wasn’t far and the other people in the small community were already in a panic to get out, all scrambling around each other. You grew nervous, wondering if you’d be able to get out in time.

Joel’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you closer to the vehicles designated for exactly this purpose.

The rest of it all happened so fast. The first group of infected had come around and were making their way into what you had once believed to be a safe space. Chaos ensued as some people tried to get out as quickly as possible and others hung back to try and fight.

“Go,” Joel shielded you as he walked you over to the one of the vehicles. You were trying to get him inside with you, holding onto his hand tightly and pulled him.

“Joel-”

“Go,” he insisted firmly and for a moment, time stood still as he kissed you, “go. Get out to safety, okay?”

“What about you?” you hadn’t realized you’d started crying; you hated that he had to be such a good man, “please, come with me now. Please-”

“I’ll find you,” it was a promise both of you knew he might not be able to keep, “I swear it. I’ll find you.”

“Joel-”

“I love you,” he took a step back as the vehicle started up and a few stragglers tried to get on, “I’ll find you soon.”

“I love you,” you cried, “please. Please.”

You weren’t even sure what you were asking for. Everything felt so surreal and left you in a daze; the next thing you knew, he was gone.

You were leaving to get to the next safe space and he was just gone.

You’d never felt more numb.

But you never let go of the hope that one day he’d find you.

Joel Miller was a good man.

A good man that kept his promises.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Luca!" you sighed softly as you tried to find your son. You loved him dearly, but sometimes he just stressed out. He was just a kid though, and you couldn't be mad at him for that.

He also happened to be extremely friendly and sociable, which made him popular among everyone. You walked down the street to one of his little friend's houses, sure they were just playing.

It was almost too quiet when you got there, and you were sure that they'd gone off somewhere else. You knocked on the door nonetheless and Lisa opened it, smiling when she saw it was you, "hey darlin', I'm afraid they're not here if you're looking for the little bundle of chaos they are."

"I had a feeling," crossing your arms over your chest you rolled your eyes playfully, "it's way too quiet and calm here."

"It's a nice change of pace if I do say so," she winked at you and the two of you exchanged smiles that only a single mother would understand, "do you want to come in for a bit?"

"Rain check?" You asked sheepishly, "I was going to go friend the kiddos….realistically I know they're fine but I'd rather see it with my own eyes."

"Definitely," she gave your shoulder a squeeze, "see you around."

It was a beautiful spring day, warm and breezy with small creatures scurrying about; it always felt like life was back to normal. Or what you had once known as normal…but this had been your reality for almost seven years now. Maybe this was your normal now.

Nonetheless you decided to remain positive and decided instead to head down to the pond where the kids liked to play. Spring had brought around a bunch of ducklings and you were sure that the kids would be mesmerized by them. But, to be quite honest, so were you. The magic of such simple things was not lost on you. Now, more than ever, these sorts of things were so important.

“Luca?” you saw a bunch of small figures around and screaming, and you finally relaxed. As you came into view, the boy grinned at you a big smile on his face, his curls roguish from the wind, “hey babe. You doin’ okay?”

“I’m okay,” he confirmed, his brown eyes sparkling as you ruffled his hair affectionately, “are you okay, mama?”

“Of course,” you crouched down so you were eye level with him, “all better now that I know you’re here. Remember when we talked about letting me know when you go out to play?”

“Yes,” he looked worried for a moment before you shook your head softly, “I’m sorry. I got excited about playing and forgot.”

“It’s okay,” you touched his cheek softly, “I’m not mad. Next time can you please remember to tell me?”

“Okay,” he wrapped his small arms around you, hugging you as best as he could. He was a sweetheart and of all the kids you could have ended up with, you were glad he choose you, “can I go back and play now?”

“Definitely,” tender kisses were pressed to his cheeks as you tickled his sides, “go and be good! I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too, mama,” and off he was, running back to his friend as you watched him go.

You slowly stood up before stretching and relishing in the popping of your joints. Having been reassured that he was going to be okay, you decided it was time to go back and start tending to the communal gardens. You never really had a green thumb before, but the last few years had really helped you grow.

You were wrapped up in your own thoughts and almost didn’t notice the man in the middle of the sidewalk, clearly confused. You’d heard some newcomers might be headed your way, but you hadn’t come across any of them yet. Having new people around was something you’d come to love; it wasn’t common most of the time.

“Hello there,” you were practically beaming as you bounced over to him. The man turned around at the sound of your voice, “you must be new…”

You stopped dead in your tracks as soon as you met his face, suddenly unsure if this was real life or just a wicked dream. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision and figure out if what you were looking at was real. There was no way…absolutely none.

But he looked just like him, watching you with equally curious eyes. Your heart was beating so fast you were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage. Your mouth ran dry but you managed to get one singular, “Joel?”

After a moment of stunned silence he nodded before whispering your name in return. The tears were already welling up and threatening to run down your cheeks. Before you knew it, the man that once was your partner, lover - everything - took you in his arms and crushed you to his chest. You didn’t mind.

He was all too familiar, bringing back a rush of memories and emotions as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. The two of you held onto each other tightly for some time; you were afraid that if you let him go he would disappear again and you would wake up to find it was all a horrible dream.

When he pulled back, he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away with his thumb. He drank you in, trying to understand every single thing that had happened since the day you lost each other, “hi.”

“Hi,” you grinned back with a teary smile, “you’re here. Really here.”

“I’m here,” he promised, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’m here.”

“Joel, I-”

“Mama!” the small voice of your son reached your ears as he ran over to the two of you, “I found a little duckie and I don’t see the mom duck and it’s so small and can I keep him?”

“Whoa, bud, slow down there for a moment,” he tucked himself behind your legs, suddenly feeling shy when he realized Joel was there. You could see Joel’s eyes flick to the young boy as his brow furrowed in confusion. You put a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to introduce himself, “can you say hi?”

“Hi,” he sounded so young as he looked at Joel; their eyes mirroring each other, “I’m Luca.”

“Hi Luca,” he held out his hand to shake the young boy’s much smaller one, his mind racing and reeling with questions. But he was a smart man and could put two and two together, “I’m Joel.”

“My daddy’s name was Joel,” Luca mused as Joel turned his attention back to you, “that’s what mama said anyway. Can I go back to the ducks now?”

“Yeah babe, go ahead. Don’t touch them though and let the mama duck do her thing. I'm sure she'll be back,” he nodded in response before trekking away again, throwing a little wave at the two of you. You nervously turned your attention back to Joel.

“A son?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion as you nodded softly, “we have a son?”

“Yes,” it felt like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders as you finally got to tell him what you had wanted all those years ago, “we have a son. He looks just like you.”

“I never…I had no clue,” he ran a hand over his face in surprise, “I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

“I found out that day,” also known as the day. When everything fell apart for a second time and you were separated from each other, “I was trying to tell you, right before Nick had come and knocked at our door. I realized that morning that I was…pregnant. And I never got the chance to tell you…when everything just started happening, it didn’t cross my mind again. And then…I lost you. I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“You had to go through all of that alone,” he looked at you in awe as you shrugged lightly, “you had to go through being pregnant alone and then raised our son alone.”

“I had a lot of help along the way,” you admitted softly, “turns out that times like these are good at bringing out the worst and the best of people. I told him about you; from when he was little. I always wanted him to know what a wonderful man his father was. And now…he got to meet you.”

“All this time,” he could cry thinking about it all. You, alone and scared, being pregnant in a world that was collapsing, and then having to raise a son alone. He’d lost Sarah, a loss that hurt still, and he knew always would, and he’d almost lost his son. But the universe, fate, or whatever was out there had given him a second chance. Not only to find you, but to be you and the son you shared, “baby.”

“It’s okay,” this time the tears running down your cheeks were happy, “it’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters. And now you’ll get the opportunity to know Luca, and it’s…all I ever wanted.”

“We have a son,” he repeated as though he was in a daze, a happy blissful daze.

“You don’t have to…if you don’t want to spend time with him or anything I-I understand,” it would kill you, but you’d understand, “I don’t want you to feel obligated just because. O-or if there’s someone else.”

“No,” he shook his head fervently, “there’s never been anyway else. How could there ever be? It was always you for me; you’re still it.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a small laugh, relieved to hear his answer, “it’s always been you for me too.”

“I was just planning on passing through,” he touched your face, thumb gently brushing over your cheek, “but if it’s okay with you, I could stay a while.”

“How about forever?” you asked softly, “i-if you want to. I-I mean we can figure it out, but-”

“Forever sounds perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou #tlou hbo

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butterflyscribbles · 9 months

Text

I’ve been thinking so much lately about April’s ninpo powers because I love the idea that as part of the family, she has her own unique abilities just like the turtles do and they didn’t get the time to explore it in the series enough so have some headcanons that I’ve incorporated into my weird lil good future AU:

The biggest key in April’s ninpo is communication and projection. She’s the only one that can cross over to the astral plane and speak with the Hamato ancestors without outside help. However, she can help anyone else in the family cross over at the same time, but it takes a lot of focus and energy to maintain the link of two people so sometimes after long sessions, she’s exhausted.

Leo hates the feeling of his soul leaving his body so he only reaches out to his ancestors when he’s at the end of his rope as leader or feels lonely. He makes the most of every visit as a result. He loves his family to the ends of the earth and beyond, wishing he could bring himself to visit more…but the whole process makes him nervous (and nauseous). Sending Leo to the plane also wipes April out the most because his mystic energy is so weak in comparison to his brothers so she has to do the “heavy lifting” so to speak, but she doesn’t mind it one bit.

Raph takes comfort in reaching the astral plane. He’s been there before (during the season 2 finale) and seeking advice from his ancestors is something he loves and takes pride in. The process it takes to reach the astral plane is reminiscent of his own projection powers so it’s like second nature. It’s also a huge bonding experience for him and April. He even utilizes the time to practice speaking Japanese to his ancestors since he starts learning after the events of s2.

Don’s pursuit of strengthening his mystic powers is often neglected in favor of pursuing his tech and scientific discoveries. He’s an extremely powerful mystic that doesn’t believe he is because of his bias against magic. Makes it hard when your trying to reach out to your ancestors you definitely know are there…he’s seen them….and can almost feel them….he just can’t fully will his mystic energy to reach out that far beyond his control and without an exact “target”, no matter how many times April helps try to drive it down the right path, so the energy just spirals in all directions and never reaches far enough. He’s never made it to the astral plane…yet.

Mikey is a low-key show off. His mystic abilities are off the charts and he can very nearly reach the astral plane by himself on sheer energy alone. However, April is the one that has to provide the right pathway for him to follow to get there since he’s a little all over the place, especially in the beginning of him reigning in his powers. When Mikey is around, he lifts her up and their energy intertwines as they cross the barrier into the astral plane with ease. April barely has to lift a finger to get there too so she’s not as exhausted after guiding Mikey there.

#rise april #rise leo #rise raph #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #sotau #some other time au #more to come I’ve just gotta draw it my brain is so full of turtles again lately aughghgggghh

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pedgito · 3 months

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𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | Javier Pena x fem!reader

summary | your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste. [2.5k]

content warning | this is probably the tamest thing i've ever written, who am i? mostly fluff, vague descriptions of your boyfriend (technically ex-boyfriend/some misogyny (not by javi), small age gap, co-workers, dinner dates and more, unrequited (innocent) crushes, minimal spanish (mostly just pet names), open-ended

author’s note | @pascalispretty happy valentines day!! this is my first time doing one of these and i was your secret valentine, but i hope you enjoy! i haven't written for javi in so long and i was really craving some soft!javi so this was a joy to write. i hope you enjoy!

You hated the stigma around holidays and what they meant, what they entailed, and why people upheld them so highly. But, here you were—tapping your fingers insistently against the desk across from the pool of DEA agents who would throw a file of paperwork on your desk and expect it to magically poof away and, by default, relinquish themself of any responsibility over it in the process.

You couldn’t fault them all—some of them actually managed to follow instructions. A signature here and there, all in order, leaving with little work to do other than file it away. Murphy followed it to a degree that made you think he probably has some time of background outside of here, back in the states. Always uniform, always proper—he’d been a good addition from the start and a perfect match to Javier Pena’s strong personality and unwillingness to give up control.

He also smiled at you every morning and offered a kind greeting, a small acknowledgment of your existence which couldn’t be spared by many others.

As for Javier—he did the work. There was never an issue, but halfway through an expository to a question he asks his attention is drawn elsewhere. Usually to one of the other few in-office secretaries or visitors that just couldn’t resist a bite at the overconfident and suave agent.

You could see the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had to like it—sometimes it impeded your ability to communicate with him and it really, really annoyed you.

Plus, your boyfriend was perfect. Too perfect that it felt unreal at times, but as all things in your life tended to implode on you—you were waiting for the ball to drop.

“Buenos días, señorita.” Javier greets with a smile that shines perfectly under his thick mustache, dressed in his usual pairing of tight jeans and form-fitting button up. This one was pink though, or a deep red. Jesus, how many different ones did he own?

You snort softly, “Morning, Javi.”

And you’re expecting that crisp folder to slide onto your desk but he’s traversing down the steps into the bay of other desks, straight for his. He’s still in eyeline, his and Steve’s shared workspace right in the center.

His eyes flit up briefly, scanning the room before they land on you again and of course you’re staring, but not for the reasons he’s assuming. And there’s a fierceness behind your eyes that he’s seen before, like he’s about to be lectured.

You grab at an empty file on your desk and hold it up lazily, eyebrows raising in expectation.

“Oh shit,” He curses lowly, but not soft enough for you to miss before he’s reaching in his desk and holding up the paperwork, “Here—I’ve got it.”

You pluck the item from his grip as he approaches, this time lingering. He’s got his fingers spread out wide on your desk and he leans, practically towers as you sift through his work quietly before jotting something down on a separate sticky note and filing it away for the time being.

“Sorry, bonita,” He apologized, some sincerity in his voice, “I stayed late last night and finished it up but you were already gone—I don’t forget, you know that.”

“All good,” You offer a polite smile and he still doesn’t move, nodding kindly to a few women that pass by, seemingly more done-up than usual, “big plans tonight?”

A man like Javier, there was no way he spent Valentine's Day alone.

Javier offers a non-commital shrug and nods his head in your direction, “What about you? You got that boyfriend, right? Kid with the glasses?”

And okay, Javier was a good chunk older than you. Ten years, maybe. But, kid? Please.

“Yes, that kid.” You roll your eyes light-heartedly. “Um, I reserved a table for dinner at that restaurant Steve recommended a couple months ago. The one he took Connie to.”

“Yeah—yeah, I know that place.” Been a few times, it lingers on his tongue. It didn’t matter if he went alone, the food was decent enough. “You made the reservation?”

“Come on, Javi,” You slap at his forearm gently, “It's not that big of a deal—besides I just…need a break. I thought dinner would be nice.”

“You know I can’t judge you for living at this place,” Javier says around a soft chuckle, “I’m guilty of it too.”

Many nights spent stuck in the office with just you and Javier—the occasional appearance of Steve. It led you to learn a few things about the men, even if inadvertently.

When leads were dry, Javier will go through half a pack in a day and Steve would chew at his fingernails almost constantly, tapping and fidgeting nearly nonstop. They both had obvious tells—a more obvious one for Javier being the close-mouthed smile he gave to women he wasn’t interested in but still remained polite to while the other, the unabashed grin was reserved for the women who piqued his interest.

He's given you both, but that was beside the point.

“Any recommendations?” You ask curiously, fidgeting with the plastic clip on your pen.

Javier considers it briefly, lips pursing together as he taps his pointer finger in thought, “Well, the Pescado Frito they have is pretty good—can’t really go wrong with that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You note, leaning back in your chair as you spot Steve making his way into the office.

“I thought you hated holidays like this?” Javier questions curiously, a sentiment he shared. They seemed pointless outside of the few that offered him a reprieve from work.

You shrug, looking away briefly to avoid his steadfast gaze.

“Well, I don’t think all of us are impervious to stuff—I wanted to do something…nice. I guess?”

Javier isn’t entirely convinced, seeing the uncertainty in your shy smile but he lets it go, slapping the desk lightly before waving a quick goodbye as Steve pulls him aside.

It had to be intel—and good intel at that by the way Javier’s face morphs into sudden interest, thumb and pointer finger brushing over his mustache.

And really, you shouldn’t keep staring at him. Not with that dinner on the forefront of your mind, the one you had so meticulously planned out for you and your boyfriend.

Things had to be perfect. There was no other option.

But, then Javier chances another glance in your direction and something swells in your throat—anxiety, sadness. You can't quite place it, but you swallow it down. Force it away.

Only a few more hours to go.

The call comes an hour before you’re due to head home, already packing up your belongings preemptively. And you smile at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice.

It’s been a few months. Good months. Too good.

He was younger, like you—some IT guy in his earlier twenties with a kind heart. Or, so you assumed.

“Hey,” You answer softly, lightly into the phone, “reservations are in a couple hours.”

“About that,” His voice sounds off, distant, “I don’t think I can make it.”

Your heart drops into your stomach and you find yourself chewing at your bottom lip in worry, watching wearily as Javier and Steve hold matching coffees in their grip, marching back to their desks in sync. Javier’s gaze lingers for a moment, a normal motion he did just to check on you.

Nothing more.

But, he spots the change in your emotion.

Still, he continues on.

“What—I—I’ve had these reservations for two weeks,” You reply in a hushed voice, trying to contain your frustration, “what happened—what changed?”

“I just—I don’t really know how to say this,” The dread is immediate, but your mind is filled with anger—rigid, bitter anger that wants to bite, “I think we should break up.”

“Are you fucking serious?” The small outburst catches the attention of you people but you avoid their gaze, even more pointedly Javier, who’s gone from inconspicuously spying to full on gawking now, alongside Steve who had a sudden interest. They’ve never seen you like…this. “Today? This felt like a good thing to tell me today?”

“I’ve been trying—“

“You’re an asshole.” You bite harshly, “You can pick your shit up from my apartment this weekend.”

You don’t let him have the final word, slamming the phone back down into the receiver and ignoring the gathering stares and sparse, hushed whispers.

You could sit and wallow, allow yourself to stew in regret and worry, wondering what you did wrong—but you knew it wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. All the trying and trying and trying you do, the maximum amount of effort met with little enthusiasm. You were naive to think that things would work,

You’re thankful when the shift nears its end and people file out quietly, albeit with a few side-stares, you find yourself mulling over the idea of canceling the reservation completely. But, then there was perfectly good, hard-earned money going to waste. And you could eat by yourself, but the idea seemed even more miserable as you had specifically booked a table for two, decorations and accommodation to match. It felt ridiculous, in hindsight.

You pass the stack of paperwork off to your boss as you step into his office, scurrying back to your desk with your head down—already prepared to go home and wallow in your self-pity.

“You alright?” Javier asks suddenly, jumping slightly at his voice as you turn on your heels, hip bumping into your desk in the process, wincing at the pain, “shit—sorry.”

He’s smiling to lighten the mood but it doesn’t help.

“You’re…fine,” You wave him off, leaning into the weight of the desk as he lingers, fingers shoved into the front pockets of his pants, “I’m heading home in a bit.”

“No dinner?” He asks curiously—if he was attempting to be coy he was doing a terrible joy.

It was only minimally amusing, cracking a smug smile at his obvious prying.

“No dinner,” You confirm, “and he broke up with me, so…”

“Cabrón,” He says under his breath, but it isn’t lost on you, “I’m sorry—that’s…fucked up.”

You shrug, “Now I’m debating on canceling and wasting the money I put down to reserve it or looking pathetic if I show up by myself—“

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Javier defends, speaking entirely from personal experience.

“Javi, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And?”

Suddenly though, you’re struck with an idea.

“Are you busy?” You ask curiously and Javier raises a curious eyebrow your way and smirks, “No ladies in waiting tonight?”

“Not yet.” Javier jokes lightly, knowing his usual routine of hitting the bar after work would end in one of two ways, and even if he didn’t mind spending his nights alone, it was nice to be in the company of others in whatever capacity.

“Go with me.” You suggest, poking at his bicep. “Since you love the place so much.”

“Come on, hermosa,” Javier chides playfully, “If you wanted to take me on a date, just ask.”

You grin wide, heart fluttering at the flirtatious tone he carried in his voice—it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it was never so pointedly directed at you.

“I am,” You tell him, “I just—I’ll need to go home and change first.”

His brow furrows and he looks you over, seeing nothing wrong, “Why? You look fine. You always do.”

It’s something he tells you daily—and maybe he has his own selfish reasons, though you know he does it to most of the women in the office, but the way he’s saying it to you now feels different.

He means it, no humor in his voice.

“My—” You can’t even address him in the moment, rolling your eyes with full force as you rub your fingers over your forehead to will away the lines of stress that form there, “I just—he used to say work clothes never complimented me very well. I already had a dress picked out, I can be quick.”

“Save it. I think you look perfect.” Javier affirms softly, keys jingling in his back pocket as he fishes them out, “I’ll drive us.

“But, my car—”

And hand breaches your shoulder, hot to the touch as his fingers curl around your form.

“Hey,” He’s searching for your eyes, waiting until they lock with his own and he nods, expecting the same motion to make sure you’re with him, “I’ll drive you there and back, you don’t have to change—we can enjoy some good food and forget about your shitty boyfriend, alright?”

You nod quietly, earning a gentle squeeze in response.

–

It wasn’t a date, not in the slightest. But, Javier did his damndest to make you feel like it was.

And maybe it was the guilt over him knowing you just got dumped—that whatever you had spent so much time planning had fell out underneath you, but it didn’t quell the nervous anxiety that you felt as you both sipped on a shared bottle of wine and your separate dinners, watching Javier grimace around the lip of his wine glass.

“Horrible, right?” You laugh softly, watching as he forces the liquid down and nods jerkily.

“Food is great, though—the wine,” Javier makes a face of uneasiness that has you covering a laugh with your palm, “—that’s why I stick with tequila or whiskey.”

“Can’t say I have much of a preference,” You admit, “as long as it does the job.”

Javier nods knowingly, stabbing his fork into a piece of food and chewing thoughtfully, the fingers of his unoccupied hand rubbing together as an idea forms in his head, “You know, if you’re not busy I was going to meet up with Steve and Connie for a drink. Later tonight—if you’re interested?”

You can’t believe how instantly you want to agree, blaming it on your impulsivity.

“Javi, I don’t know,” You respond quietly, “I don’t—I don’t really go out like that.”

“Well—that dress you were talking about. It wouldn’t go completely to waste if you wanted to wear it out tonight. Plus, you treated me to a nice dinner—let me treat you to a couple drinks.”

It sounds like the perfect idea. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

“Javi,” You tease shyly, “if you’re trying to ask me out on a date just say it.”

Javier chuckles softly and you know it’s only an attempt to make a shitty day not so shitty, but the underlying chase you two have allowed to happen for so long now was unobscured by outside forces and you hated how easy it was for him to distract you from everything that had transpired today.

“Is that a yes?” Javier teases.

You sigh reluctantly, though a subtle grin pulls at your face, eyes soften at the expectant look on Javier’s face, all puppy-eyed and nothing like the man you’re used to seeing in the office. This was a side of him that felt new and you were curious to discover more. You nod.

“Well, hermosa—I guess it’s a date then.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier peña #pedro pascal #my writing #spacesisterssecretvalentine

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navybrat817 · 6 months

Text

We Don't Talk Anymore

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have an honest conversation, but it may not have a happy ending.

Word Count: Over 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, confessions, communicating, crying, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

Previous Part of AU: Where Did the Time Go?

A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

As long as you and Bucky had been friends, you rarely saw him nervous. It wasn’t an emotion he liked to show to many, even though he knew you’d never judge him. Watching him clench and unclench his jaw, the fingers on his left hand twitching before he ran them through his hair, you sensed just how anxious he was. Whatever he had to say had him on edge.

Which had you right there with him.

“Just tell me what's going on,” you urged, putting a hand on his arm in the hopes that your touch would calm him. “Please.”

Bucky swallowed as he looked at you. Why was it a gaze like he was saying goodbye? “You asked how I knew TJ stayed at your place,” he began, moving his arm to take your hand in his. “I went to see you after Steve’s party because I had something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted to say for a long time.”

You took a step closer, your heart racing a bit faster. The combination of excitement and nerves blended together as you squeezed his hand. “What did you want to tell me?”

The next words out of his mouth would either break your heart or heal the unnecessary pain you put on yourself by staying silent for so long.

“That you weren’t just my best friend. You were so much more to me than that,” he said, bringing his palm to your cheek. You instantly leaned into his touch. “I wanted to tell you that I was crazy about you and wanted you to be my girl.”

Butterflies filled your stomach and it took you a second to find your voice. Was this a dream? “You wanted me to be your girl?” You asked softly, like if you said it any louder you’d wake up.

“Yeah,” he whispered, a sad smile on his face. “I never wanted anything more than that.”

It was like the ground shifted beneath your feet as you let the words sink in. The butterflies in your stomach went straight to your dizzy head. Bucky Barnes wanted you to be his girl. You longed to hear that he felt the same way you did. It didn’t feel real though.

You were waiting for the shoe to drop.

Because you were always just out of reach of Bucky. It was like you were a step behind, but you still wanted to follow. You wanted your paths to eventually merge the way you thought they were supposed to.

“Bucky, I…” you trailed off, trying to get your bearings. You wanted to admit that you felt the same way, but you needed the rest of his story first. “If you felt this way, why didn’t you say anything? Why were you with Dot?”

Why didn’t you just tell me?

A darkness clouded his eyes. “I didn’t feel like I was good enough for you. I never thought I deserved you. Because you’re the best person I know and I’m just me,” he said.

“Bucky, don't say that. You're more than good enough. You deserve the whole world,” you argued. Had you done something to make him think he didn’t deserve you? “I’ve always thought that.”

“When you tell yourself of something for so long you start to believe it. And that’s what I did: I convinced myself that I would never be the man you wanted or deserved to be with,” he said. It broke your heart that he didn’t see himself as worthy enough for you. “And the day I tried to tell you, I shouldn’t have listened to that voice in my head.”

“What happened?”

“TJ answered your door. Shirtless, messy hair. I immediately jumped to conclusions about why he was there,” he answered, his nostrils flaring. Was he replaying the image in his mind? “And when I asked if I could talk to you, he said you were sleeping because he kept you up all night. I left and didn't look back because I thought my assumption was right and something in me broke.”

Your mouth fell open as you realized what Bucky thought happened. “You thought TJ and I had sex,” you stated, wanting to shake him when he nodded. “We didn’t have sex. He kept me up all night talking.”

“I know that now. I should’ve known then. But I thought that was my sign that I was right all along and that I’d never have you,” he explained as tears sprang to your eyes. “You asked me why I dated Dot. It was because I settled. I thought that was what I deserved.”

“So, you thought TJ and I hooked up or were together or something and that was it? You just decided not to say anything to me. And you went to Dot because you knew that was a sure thing?” you asked louder than you intended to, an ugly feeling swirling in your gut. Was it bitterness? “You gave up on us.”

Was it actually giving up when you weren't together? In a way, yes. He bowed out without a word.

“Gave up on us?” he repeated, searching your face for something you couldn't place. “Wait, what are you saying? That you care about me, too?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. So much,” you admitted, hastily swiping at your cheeks as tears fell. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted.”

“You wanted to be with me?” he asked above a whisper, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You couldn't stop crying as you nodded, an ache in your heart spreading with each tear. “Yes. It has always been you. I was going to tell you how I felt, even at the risk of our friendship, but the day I planned to was the day you introduced Dot as your girlfriend. I knew it was too late.”

If someone asked you to visualize what both heartbreak and hope looked like, it would’ve been the expression on Bucky’s face. “This whole time…”

“This whole time,” you confirmed, swallowing the lump in your throat. “And I never stopped caring about you. I thought maybe I’d try and move on, but I couldn’t.”

“Oh, my God,” he whispered as his hand dropped, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t go to you before Dot. I should have.”

“Honestly, yeah, you should have. You didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even attempt to fight for me,” you accused, your eyes stinging as your vision blurred again. The floodgate was open and you were powerless to stop it. “Bucky, you gave up so easily at the first sign of something you thought was a problem. I wasn’t worth it to you, was I?”

Your chest tightened as you let the hurt sink in. You wanted to be angry, but you were only left tangled up in disappointment. That was on you for expecting too much, wasn't it?

“You are worth everything to me,” he said, stepping closer as you took a step back.

It sounded like a promise, but felt like a lie.

“If you really thought I was dating TJ, did you ever wonder why you never saw him around much after you went to my place? Or if I slept with him, did you question why I didn’t talk about him or bring him up?” you asked, feeling as defeated as he appeared to be. “Or was I already so far gone from your mind and heart that you just didn't stop to question it or care?”

“There's nothing I can say to fix it because I know I messed up. Saying 'I'm sorry' isn't enough because I shouldn't have given up before we started,” he said, daring to lift a hand to wipe more tears away. You allowed him to do so. “I never should've put you through that. You are the last person in the world I'd ever want to hurt and I hate myself for doing just that.”

“I don't want you to hate yourself,” you whispered, your chest steadily rising and falling. “But I am hurt.”

Like the cracks that formed in your foundation, his face crumbled at your admission. “Butterfly, all I want to do is show you that you mean the world to me and make up for not being there for you. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“So you want to fight for me now, but you didn’t fight for me then!”

“Because I’m a fucking coward!” he shouted, both of your eyes wide as he raised his voice. His shoulders slumped, like the rush of emotion went as quickly as it came. “I didn't think I could be with you and I still wanted you in my life even if we weren’t together. I couldn’t even do that right.”

You knew Dot had a huge hand in why you didn’t see Bucky as much, but it wasn’t all her fault.

“But why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” he asked gently before you could say anything else. “I wouldn’t have been with her if I had known. I shouldn’t have been with her in the first place.”

Hearing that didn’t stop the ache in your heart. If anything, the pain expanded. Bucky said he settled for Dot because he thought that was the kind of girl and relationship he deserved. You settled by staying silent. Part of you even felt bad for his ex, even if she knew he wasn’t fully invested. Maybe that was why she didn’t want you around. She really did know that he wanted you.

“Because I thought you were happy and that's all I ever wanted for you. Even if it wasn't with me,” you told him, something simmering in your gaze as your eyes narrowed. “Do you think I'm some kind of homewrecker? That I'd be selfish enough to tell you how I felt, with no indication that you even felt the same way, to ruin a relationship you told us you were happy in?!”

Loving someone sometimes meant having to sacrifice.

“No, I don’t think that of you at all. You’re the least selfish person I know.”

“Then what kind of person would I be to destroy your path to bring you back to mine?” you asked, not waiting for him to respond as you held up a hand. “And you know what? I agree that we wasted time. Two years wasted because we couldn't just talk to each other. Two years of seeing you in bits and pieces,” you continued, each word like a punch to the gut. “Two years of trying to figure out what the hell I did to push you away.”

He quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. I-”

“You know, I've imagined so many different ways that we’d tell each other we cared for one another beyond friendship. I didn't think it would end with me crying,” you said, straightening up and trying to put on a brave face as you wiped your cheeks one last time. “So what now? Where do we go from here? We can't go back and fix it and I don't even know if I can trust you to not give up on me again. Because I never would have thought in a million years you wouldn't give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You're right. We can't go back and I made a mistake by giving up before. I have no intention of doing that again,” he said. You wanted so badly to believe him. “And I have no right to ask anything of you, but please. Give me a chance to show that you can trust me.”

It broke your heart that he chose Dot over you so easily. You also understood what self-doubt could do to a person. How many times had you told yourself that Bucky would never see you beyond anything besides a friend? Could you completely fault him for settling?

You also wanted to trust him since you loved him.

“Give me a chance,” he begged as he leaned in, his lips a fraction away from yours. It was like you were sharing one breath. “Please.”

All you wanted was to kiss him. To tell him you’d be his. You almost closed the gap between you.

But you couldn’t do that tonight.

“I think I need to be alone for the rest of the night. I can't think clearly with you right in front of me,” you said, you resolve almost breaking when panic filled his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

The impulsive part of you practically screamed to jump in his arms and promise him forever, but you owed it to yourself to take a little time to reflect.

He swallowed a little. “Please, I-”

“I'm not saying 'no' to you. I'm not going to ask you to prove anything to me. I told you, I’m used to not being a first choice,” you smiled sadly, continuing before he could react to that comment. “And this isn't a test to see if you'll chase after me when I walk away. This is me asking you to give me space for the evening. If you really care about me as much as you say you do, you'll respect that.”

Bucky opened his mouth and shut it before he opened it again. His breathing became shallow as hurt and understanding showed on his face. “Whatever you need, Butterfly.”

“Thank you, Dreamboat,” you whispered, pulling free of his grasp. With a deep breath, you took your first few steps away from him. They were both the lightest and heaviest steps you ever took, your head held high despite your sinking heart. It both pained and healed you. “And thank you for talking to me,” you added when you stopped at the porch.

“I wish I would've talked to you sooner,” he said.

Your heart sank more at his wistful tone, the urge to comfort him taking over.

As you looked at him over your shoulder, you took in the sight of him in the moonlight. He seemed like a shell of himself as he stared at the ground with drooped shoulders. You didn't think you’d ever seen him look so lost. How did someone so strong to you appear so powerless?

And could you walk away with him in that state?

“We talked now. That means something,” you said, offering him a small smile when he lifted his head. The corner of his lip tugged in a tiny smile as well, but it fell quickly. It was a heartbreaking sight. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed,” you assured him as he let out a breath. The weight in your chest lightened at your admission, likely needing to say it as much as he needed to hear it. “If anything, they’re stronger because we finally talked. I just want you to know that.”

Even if you went your separate ways at the end of the week, Bucky would always be in your heart. You didn't have to be with him to know what you felt for him was real. You also didn’t want to try and carve him out because you considered yourself lucky to experience what love felt like, the good and the bad. Some would never know that feeling.

Bucky let out another breath and stood straighter, determination filling his eyes as he brushed his hair out of them. It was a far cry from his stance moments ago. Did he ignite a fire within himself?

Or did you light the match?

“My feelings haven’t changed either. And they won’t,” he promised. “I'll beg for you to be with me if that's what it takes, but I'm not giving up this time.”

Your heart raced faster, but you wouldn't let it deter you. “Maybe tomorrow we can figure out where we go from here,” you suggested. As much as you wanted to see Bucky grovel, you wouldn't make him do that. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

Like you asked, he made no move to follow.

You avoided the rest of the gang as you went straight to your room and allowed yourself to cry in peace on your bed. Your heart was still pounding in your chest as you reached for your pillow. When did your hand start shaking? When did your head begin to spin?

You could still feel Bucky’s touch on your cheek, his voice in your mind begging to give him a chance.

“What the hell am I going to do?” You asked out loud.

Leaving Bucky outside was one of the hardest things you had ever done and you wondered if you made the right choice to do so after his confession, but you were proud of yourself. You knew how he felt now and you opened up about your feelings as well.

As much as you loved him though, you had to sleep on it. Even if he didn’t care about Dot as much as he did for you, he was still with her for so long. You didn’t know how he intended to prove his feelings for you, but the determination you saw in his eyes told you there was hope for tomorrow. You would figure out the next step in your relationship.

Maybe you would even allow yourselves the happiness you deserve.

Together.

I know! 😭 I'm sorry, lovelies. Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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thehomeofalostchild · 2 years

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my roommate is upset that I used his ginger that he bought 3 weeks ago lmao (context: we share ginger and garlic and generally have quite a loose ownership of things in the kitchen). idk why I’m always so affected by these things but it literally ruins my day whenever he gets mad about something like that

#weirdest roommate tbh #he’s literally the one who advocates for sharing things #I keep most of my stuff separate but I buy ginger and garlic to contribute to the container we keep the ginger and garlic in #pretty sure I’ve bought more ginger than I’ve used #so ??#also if you buy something 3 weeks ago and leave it in a communal container then you should surely check if it’s still there before cooking #like if the ginger had been used and not restocked for a long time then fair enough but I literally finished it yesterday #and usually I’m the one who buys ginger #so I did not feel guilty nor did I know it wasn’t ginger I’d bought myself #this is such a dumb thing but it always upsets me when he gets mad about silly things #usually I’m the one he directs his anger towards but just because I’m the only other person in the house who takes any responsibility #his two besties (also roommates) contribute literally nothing and eat all his food that he cooks #they don’t even clean for him or take out the bin or anything #but then when he finds himself doing an unfair amount of chores he takes it out on me ??#like dude #we live in a house with 6 people #I do 1/6th of the housework my boyfriend does 2/6ths if you find yourself doing the other 1/2 then you need to take that up with ur friends #then there’s craig who doesn’t contribute much either but he hardly uses the common areas so nobody gets too upset about it

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primehyuck · 8 months

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MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

#haechan #haechan fanfiction #haechan smut #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct fanfiction #nct smut

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d1xonss · 4 months

Note

Hi!! Could I request a one shot where reader and Daryl are like complete opposites?? But he realizes eventually he’s grown to love her or something like that?? Thank you!

Enchanting

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5/6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3.6k

AN ~ Thank you so much for this request! I’ve been writing some pretty sad stuff lately so I’m glad to have something on the lighter side lol. I tried my best with this considering I haven't been writing much outside of the series I've been updating. But I'm always up for the practice. Hope you enjoy!

He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. How someone so fragile, so delicate, so perfect, survived this long in a world as shitty as this.

Alexandria as a whole felt like a dream within itself. Arriving with his family at the giant gates after living a life of hell on the road, it was something he would call a miracle. Though he hardly believed in such a thing, he thought this was as close as it was going to get. Houses lined up down the road, running water, electricity, it almost seemed too unreal to him to even want to stay in a place like this.

It took him some time to get adjusted, some of his people having to drag him out of the house by his hair to actually give this place a chance. They wanted him to open up, socialize a bit more with some of the people in the community seeing as they were planning to stay in this dream-like place.

Carol was the most persistent of them all. She poked and prodded at him for days to get out of the house and actually give this place a chance. He would argue and say that he had left the house since their arrival, but in her mind, going out for hours to hunt was hardly the socializing she had in mind. All she wanted was for Daryl to be able to thrive here as the rest of them were slowly doing, not wanting to see him completely shut himself out.

So, after a whole week of trying to coax him out of the secure home, he finally agreed to a party.

Did he enjoy parties? No, absolutely not. He didn’t know what to do at those types of events, not knowing how to really talk with others freely as it wasn’t exactly his strong suit. He would most likely just awkwardly stand in the corner by himself until enough time passed for him to be able to leave. And at least then he could say he tried.

When the day finally came it was safe to say he was a little nervous. He hadn’t talked to really anyone outside of his close knit group in what felt like forever. He had no idea if he would even be good at the whole “small talk” thing as he never once was to begin with. But still, he promised he’d try.

So, after getting back from a hunt he went on earlier that day, he headed towards the lit up house as instructed. Though the closer he got, the more nervous he became. His palms began to sweat a little as he wiped them a few different times on his jeans, trying to swallow whatever anxiety was creeping back up to haunt him. It shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but it was. To him, it was.

He eventually forced himself to open up the front door with almost instant regret, seeing a few turning heads to notice his presence in the room. Though he tried to ignore it for the most part, only nodding to the familiar faces he saw in different areas of the mostly filled house. He already grew uncomfortable at the watchful eyes that managed to follow him, purposefully looking away as he kept his head down while he moved.

Alright, time to find a corner, he thought to himself as he subtly scoped the place out, preparing to be alone for most of the night.

“Daryl!”

Damnit.

He reluctantly turned his head to see Carol approaching him rather quickly with a wide smile on her face as she quickly brought him into a hug, “Oh, I’m so happy you made it.”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a nod as he patted her back awkwardly before she finally pulled away, “Said I’d try…so m’ tryin.”

“And I’m very proud of you.” she said sincerely as she placed a hand on his cheek for a moment, before pulling back with an even larger smile, “You want something to drink?”

He dipped his head in a nod of appreciation as she tapped his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.” she promised, before turning around to maneuver through the sea of people.

Daryl patted the sides of his legs nervously as he waited for her return, scanning over different things in the house that caught his attention. One was the slightly flickering light above his head, another was the music playing somewhat softly in the background of people’s loud conversations. And the third was a laugh. A quite delightful laugh that had his attention from the second it hit his ears.

Daryl’s head whipped in the direction of the sudden delicate noise, his eyes catching sight of a woman he had never seen around the community before. Over the past week he had managed to see a few other residents of Alexandria when he traveled outside, sending them a polite nod when he passed through. But he had never seen you before.

He watched intently as you interacted with someone else from right next to you, whispering something close to your ear as you let out another light and enchanting laugh. His eyes moved over the features of your face, seeing your eyes crinkling at the corners and dimples forming on your cheeks from how wide you smiled. His lips parted a little at the sight, his head even tilting a bit to the side as he continued to study your movements.

You occasionally tucked a piece of hair behind your ear everytime it got in the way of your eyes, your hand effortlessly falling back down to grasp the cup of the drink you held in your hands. Your nose occasionally scrunched up a bit as you spoke, clearly about something that brought you joy and it intrigued Daryl more than he was willing to admit. A part of him wanted to get closer to hear the delightful story you were surely telling. He could in fact almost make out the sound of your voice from where he stood-

“Here’s your drink.” Carol’s voice quickly cut into his thoughts.

He practically jumped out of his skin at her arrival, glancing down to see the beer bottle in her hands before swiping it in his own grasp with a quiet thanks. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion as now all Daryl could seem to focus on was the ground, but curiosity got the better of her as to why he was so jumpy. Her eyes glanced behind her shoulder and did a scan of the surroundings…before a smirk was brought to her face.

“She’s pretty.” she commented casually.

Daryl’s eyes flew up to meet her smug expression with a scoff, “Dunno what yer talkin bout.” he brushed off as he raised the bottle to meet his lips.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “I’m not dense, Daryl, and neither are you…” she trailed off before glancing back once more to catch you laughing yet again, “I think you should go talk to her.”

A scoff was the only response he could come up with, a reddened pigment covering his cheeks at the suggestion. You were already having a good time, why the hell would you want to talk to someone like him instead.

“I’m serious.” Carol pushed, “I think it’s the right kind of socializing you need.” she finished with a wink.

He gave her a pointed look as he took another swig of the liquid, his eyes panning back over towards you as the person whom you were once talking with, suddenly walked away. So now you stood alone, swaying back and forth a little to the music in content as you occasionally took a sip from your own drink as well.

“Well, would you look at that…a spot seemed to open up.” Carol teased as she nudged his side a little to which he just brushed her away with an annoyed grunt.

Though he couldn’t argue as he continued to casually glance at you still standing alone, though it looked like you didn’t mind too much. You looked almost too peaceful in a cramped party filled to the brim with people. Maybe he should take a chance. Just this once in his life maybe the leap of faith would do him some good, giving him an opportunity to talk to you.

After having an eternal inner debate with himself and a loud sigh left his lips, he finally pushed himself to move forward. He tried to ignore Carol’s wide smile in encouragement as he passed by her completely, but it truly was hard to ignore. He huffed as he moved further, awkwardly squeezing by a few people lingering in the way before he could reach you.

Although it happened all too fast, now standing in front of you with somewhat of a blank expression as you now looked him in the eye. Daryl swallowed thickly as he stood frozen upon seeing your gaze match his, your eyes were beautiful as they seemed to hold something much more than he was expecting. Everything about you seemed to make time stop for him.

“Hi.” you greeted politely after a few seconds of silence, sending a smile his way that almost caused him to melt.

He cleared his throat, “Hey.” he responded dryly, now almost panicking as he didn’t think this through as much as he should’ve. He was suddenly rendered speechless, not knowing what to say next as you looked at him almost expectantly.

Though your eyes narrowed the smallest bit, the smile still remaining on your face, “I recognize you, you’re new.” you stated with a raised finger, “Apart of Rick’s group, right? Daryl?”

“Uh huh.” he mumbled as he continued to stare, almost in disbelief that you had recalled seeing him before, enough to recognize him and even know his name. He’d almost wished you would repeat his name again so he could hear you say it just once more.

Your smile widened even more if that were possible as you suddenly held out your hand for him to take, “I’m (Y/N).”

And just like that, after hearing your name for the very first time, he could never seem to get it out of his head. He didn't necessarily know it then, but you would soon become a person that Daryl cared very much for. Someone he would give up his life for. Someone he would grow to love.

He was infatuated with you, slowly finding the time to leave the house more and more so he could have a chance at catching you outside as well. Normally he would never be so bold as to plan something like this just to get a chance to talk to you, but he couldn’t help it. There was just something so special about you that he couldn’t ignore.

Months in the community went by just like that, getting countless chances and opportunities to spend more time with you on multiple occasions. You were honestly flattered that the stoic man wanted to seek you out whenever he got the chance, offering to help fix something in your house or inviting you out on one of his hunts, you were always excited upon his arrival.

In exchange you would always have something to give him in return for his countless acts of kindness. Whether it was giving him something you had baked or his worn jeans you offered to patch up and sew, you wanted to give him something. He always seemed to deny your persistence, wanting nothing in return as he thought you were the best gift he could ever receive. But still you pushed, batting your eyelashes at him until he finally agreed to take whatever you presented, leaving you smiling at his bashful state.

You knew of his growing feelings towards you, of course you did. You picked up on it after he stopped by your house about three different times to make sure the bathroom sink he had fixed was still working properly. Daryl however was still painfully oblivious as he failed to realize that after all this time, you too found yourself growing feelings for him.

“I think you should just bite the bullet and ask her.” Carol advised as she mauvered around the kitchen, cooking dinner for the two of them.

Daryl’s constant resort was to just scoff at her words as he held his head in one of his hands at the kitchen island, “Alright.” he mumbled sarcastically.

She whipped around with slightly widened eyes, “I’m being serious!” she said as she stirred something heated on the stove, “And you better do it fast before she gets swept up by someone else.”

His eyes quickly snapped up towards her at the possibility, “Ya think that’ll happen?” he asked, not even trying to hide his worry.

He cared for you deeply, unlike anything he had ever felt before, the last thing he wanted to see was you with someone else. But at the same time he was scared. Scared to ask you out for some kind of date if you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. He didn’t want to ruin what he already had with you, he didn’t want to scare you away. But the suggestion of you being with someone besides him now made him worry further.

“I think that it could happen.” Carol corrected, “She’s very kind and pretty, it’s hard for me to believe she hasn’t found someone yet.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing…” Daryl said as he trailed off, “Better then endin up with some asshole like me.”

The woman sighed heavily as she dropped the wooden spoon in her hands and turned around fully to face him, “Daryl, that girl absolutely adores you. You might not be able to see it, but I do. I think you should just…take a chance. Like you did with that party.” she spoke knowingly.

He sent her a glare through his lids, earning a small laugh from her as she turned back around. His mind seemed to wander for a long moment as Carol’s back was facing him now, thinking if now was really the time to make some type of move. He wanted nothing more than to just confess what he’s been feeling for so long, wanting to sweep you off your feet and never let you go. But it wasn’t that easy.

He had thought about this situation before in the past, a lot more than he was willing to admit, but everytime he seemed to always talk himself out of it. He didn’t know how you would react, if you would be offended or flattered. If you would turn him down easy for leave him brokenhearted. There were too many possibilities for him to ignore, too many scenarios to think through.

But in the end you were the kindest person he had ever met and he felt safe with you, safer than he had ever felt before. Perhaps that was the only reason he needed to finally take a chance.

Before he could even process what he was doing, he suddenly stood up from his seat and headed straight towards the front door, trying not to talk himself out of the sudden decision he just made. He was fast and light on his feet as he walked down the porch steps, nearly falling on his ass as he missed the last one in a hurry. But he hardly let it bother him, looking like a man on a mission to others he was passing by on the sidewalk.

The walk to your house felt fast and slow all at once, his heartbeat rapidly pounding in his chest with each step closer he got. He felt his hands begin to sweat a bit as he trudged up the steps to your pretty yellow house, noticing the arrangements of flowers you had on either side of the porch that matched your personality perfectly. He was inches away from the front door now as he stood back and hesitated to knock on the wooden frame to your home. His eyes glanced down for a moment to your welcome mat below his feet, scraping off his dirty boots as he would never wish to track mud into your house.

With his boots clean(ish) and a huff passing from his lips, he finally raised his fist up towards the door to give it a firm and heavy knock, waiting for you to answer. The seconds seemed to go impossibly slow as he waited, wondering to himself if you were even home. You loved to head to the gardens this time of day, picking your share of the fruits and vegetables being grown. Perhaps he had missed you completely, contemplating if he should just turn around and head back seeing as the seconds turned into minutes.

But then he heard it. The faintness of your voice calling through the house that you were coming, followed by the pitter patter of your light and delicate footsteps. He swallowed thickly before the door was suddenly swung open, revealing your smiling face that seemed to light up even more at just the sight of him.

“Hey!” you greeted cheerfully as you bounded forward to close the distance between you two, bringing him in for a tight embrace.

He grunted at the sudden impact, but smiled a bit to himself as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you softly. He feared that he would break you if he squeezed a little too tight.

You pulled back with a smile just as wide as your eyes lingered a bit over his face, “What’s up? You need something?” you asked politely.

He couldn’t help but think that he needed you and only you, but it felt a little wrong to be that blunt right away so he settled with a shake of his head, “Nah, just…just wanted ta see ya.” he spoke honestly.

Your eyes twinkled at the sweetness of him as you laughed lightly, “I’ve been wanting to see you too.” you admitted, “It feels like it’s been too long since we’ve hung out.”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he cleared his throat a little, “Shit’s gettin busier round here.”

You nodded in agreement, a little sympathy on your features as you knew how much he did around here for the community, “But- uh…” he quickly corrected, “I’ll always make time for ya…no matter how busy it gets.” he admitted nervously.

Your heart warmed as you smiled at him sweetly, “You sure?” you asked a bit playfully, “You sure you’re not too busy?” you poked as you ventured out to take his hand softly in yours.

He smiled down at you as you intertwined your fingers with his, as you normally would do, “Never.” he promised.

His eyes then took the time to take in your appearance as he normally would do. Your hair was pulled back a bit as it was tied up with a light pink ribbon, framing your face angelically as a few strands fell from the front and landed just above your cheekbones. He then noticed the sundress that fit your figure beautifully, finding himself loving the many skirts and flowy dresses you constantly wore. And then the jewelry that hung around your neck, a tiny pink diamond that was shaped into a heart as it sat in the middle of your chest.

It was actually a gift he had given you weeks ago, something he had found on a run that just reminded him of you. It was so soft and delicate, and the heart seemed fitting to your style.

“Did you…want to come in for a bit?” you asked as you noticed him grow a little quieter than usual.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your sweet voice, “Oh- uh- nah…I just came over here ta…ask ya somethin.”

“So ask.” you prodded gently with a soft squeeze to his hand that made his knees feel like jelly.

You knew that Daryl often had a hard time with things like this, seeing it made him uncomfortable to say or ask something out of his comfort zone. But you were always so patient with him it blew his mind, always willing to wait for him to just come out and say it.

“Alright, so uh…” he cleared his throat before swallowing thickly, “I was just um…just wonderin…if ya wanted to maybe…go on a ride with me sometime…?”

Your eyes brightened a little as you went to open your mouth to answer, but he quickly cut you off, “Nah, I mean- n-not like just a ride, but like…out together sometime…just the two of us...kinda like-”

His rambling went on for a few more seconds before you decided to cut him off instead. He suddenly clamped his mouth shut in a split second when he felt the softness of your lips brushing across his cheek, leaving a light peck before you pulled away with a smile.

“I’d love to.” you said.

The man was stunned to silence, feeling his face get hot and the burning of his cheek becoming more intense as he tired to process your actions. You couldn’t help but laugh a little to yourself as you gave his hand another comforting squeeze while gazing up at him through your long lashes.

“I’m free tomorrow at noon…if that works for you?”

He stood there in bewilderment for a moment or two before frantically nodding his head, not counting on his words in this moment in time. You nodded back before venturing your hand out of his hold and up towards his face to move some of the hair that had fallen over his eyes. He almost quivered at the feeling of your fingers gently touching his hair, silently wanting more though he would never ask.

“I can’t wait.” you admitted gently and quietly, lulling him back into the same enchanting trance he was hit with the moment he caught sight of you for the first time all those months ago.

~ Thanks for reading!

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x oc #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus x reader

597 notes · View notes

bagopucks · 5 months

Text

A. Matthews - Worlds Worst Dad

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Fem!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning(s): another family fight.

When I had gotten the request to do Auston and Hudson angst, I had initially started with two fics and for whatever reason I had them both completed last season. So I tweaked this one a little so I could still post it.

—————————————

Hudson was too young to understand.

“Just listen to me, bud.”

Auston had been so busy with the playoffs, that he hadn’t been home. He had been so busy with his job, and myself with my own, that at some point, we lost sight of how important communication was. Not necessarily for us, but for Hudson.

“You said you wouldn’t leave!”

“I’m right here.” Auston sounded so lost. I couldn’t blame him. Neither of us really expected our reunion to go this way. Hudson had been patient at first when playoffs began, but at some point he had given up. He’d become upset at first, worried. Nervous. Then he became angry. So angry. I couldn’t see into his mind. I couldn’t understand what he felt, but I knew it had to do with the way his biological father left. Sure, he didn’t remember it happening, but after his grandfather let the story slip one day, ‘fathers’ became a fragile subject for Hudson.

“You’re not around any more!”

Auston responded to texts when he could, and always called back when he missed a call, but the time zone differences made things difficult. Hudson didn’t understand why Auston couldn’t talk. Why Auston never stayed on the phone long enough to speak to him.

I had thought Hudson’s behavior would turn around when I announced Auston’s return home. Apparently it didn’t. I knew the knockout was hard, and I knew it took a toll on Auston, but I also knew he was ready to be back. I had warned the man before he came home, but I hadn’t expected Hudson to lash out the way he did. It was the last thing any of us needed.

“I’ve been a little busy, Hudson. Just chill out okay?”

I felt like a horrible mother. A horrible lover.

“Don’t tell me to chill out! You left!”

“Hudson don’t speak to Auston that way.” I reprimanded hopelessly.

“I didn’t leave.” Auston argued with a scoffed out laugh.

“Yes you did! Get out!”

“Hudson.” I finally heard him get tense.

“Get out!”

“Hudson, listen to me!” Auston raised his voice. It wasn’t something he did with Hudson. Mainly because he never had to. I could tell by the silence, that Hudson was trying to understand what was happening. Trying to process what it meant that Auston was angry.

“No!” The boy finally shouted back.

“Hudson! I have to work!” Auston finally snapped. I flinched, raising my hand slowly to clasp over my mouth as I felt a pang of emotion in my chest. Hudson simply didn’t want to be abandoned again. Not by another dad.

“I don’t want you! You’re a horrible dad!”

I jumped off the couch as soon as I realized what had been said. The blanket over my legs falling to the floor.

“What? You don’t mean that.” Auston’s nervous laugh had my heart thudding against my chest.

“Yes. I do.” The determination in my son’s voice had me immediately crossing the room to reach my son. “You’re horrible.” I watched Auston’s expression shift, and I felt my own breath catch in my throat as I spotted the tears in his eyes. As I reached for my son, he turned, shoving my hand away and storming off down the hall. The slam of the bedroom door had both of us flinching. My hand flew up to rest against Auston’s arm, squeezing gently.

“Aus,” I couldn’t undo the damage that had been done. I could see it in Auston’s eyes. He was devastated. “You know he doesn’t mean that” I whispered as I tried to turn his body to face my own. “He’s just emotional.”

“He said it pretty loud and clear.” Auston gestured toward the door, speaking as if it was an obvious fact. And it was. But that didn’t mean anything. Hudson was a kid, and Auston had done no wrong. He’d understand that eventually, and come around.

“He’s having a hard time. You have to know that.” I tried to push a piece of Auston’s long hair back before he pulled away, pursing his lips and shaking his head. My stomach twisted in knots.

“That’s okay… it’s fine- I’m fine.” Auston shrugged, “I’ve gotta go and get my dog anyway.” I had never seen Auston guard himself before in such a manner. He’d always been open with his feelings and emotions. “I’ll talk to you some other time, okay?” He shrugged once again, trying to keep up with the chill facade he usually didn’t have to fake.

“You can stay tonight.” I tried, but I knew he wasn’t going to.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t think I’m really making your life easier right now.”

“You’re not here to make my life easier, Auston.” I watched him slip past me, and I followed him to the door. “Sometimes Hudson isn’t going to like things you do. He’s the kid. You’re still in charge.”

“I can’t be in charge of him if he fucking hates me!” Auston shouted in a hushed tone. I watched as tears finally began to roll down his cheeks. This was not the type of reaction he hoped for after such a shitty second round knockout. Things were piling up on him.

“Don’t go home alone like this.” I insisted, wishing I could have comforted him the way he had done for me so many times before.

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, Aus.” I whispered as I watched him slip his shoes on.

“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged again.

“I’m still sorry. You don’t deserve it.” He turned to glance at me, eyes distant. Thinking.

“I probably do.”

We had said our goodbyes before Auston left. Auston and Hudson were best friends as much as they were family. I knew it killed Auston to think he’d hurt and disappointed Hudson. And I knew it made him feel terrible to think he’d done so horribly that Hudson hated him.

“Hudson.” I had waited a while to speak with my son, uncertain of what to say. When I pushed open his bedroom door, I found Hudson coloring in a book on the floor. Something bothered me about how calm he looked. He looked up from his coloring book when I approached, fidgeting with the blue crayon in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Honey, you really hurt Auston.” I tried to be gentle as I spoke. I sat down on the floor across from Hudson, watching his eyes fall back to the book on the floor. “Hudson.” I tried to gain his attention. “Auston’s really sad. He doesn’t want you to be angry with him.”

Hudson’s hand shook slightly before he dropped the crayon. He remained silent before I heard him sniff.

“Then why’d he leave?”

“He told you, Hudson.” I moved to sit beside the boy, wrapping an arm around his back. “He’s gone away for work before.”

“But he always talks!”

“The end of the season was super busy for him, Hudson. Auston never meant to hurt you. He loves you, so much.”

“No he doesn’t.” Hudson pulled his knees to his chest, hiding his face in them as quiet cries escaped his lips.

“I promise he does. He always asked about you when he had time to call. He always said he was so excited to come home and see you. Hudson, he missed you more than he missed me.” I rubbed the boy’s back.

“No he didn’t.” Sometimes I cursed the heavens for giving my son the same stubborn behavior I held.

“Hudson.” I moved my hand from his back, turning his head to look at me. “Auston loves you more than anything. He hated being away for hockey. He hated the fact that he couldn��t be there to help you sign up for your first peewee team. He hated missing your last day of school, and he hated missing the little party we threw.” I watched the tears slip down his cheeks. “Auston tried so hard to call me that night. But things got in the way and he felt horrible.” Hudson leaned against my side, crying quietly as I returned my hand to his back, rubbing gentle circles.

“Is he mad at me?” Hudson’s voice trembled.

“Honey, I don’t think he’s angry. Just upset. You should never tell people you hate them. Especially someone as close to you as Auston is.”

“I’m sorry.” Hudson buried his head in his hands.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, hun.” I ran my hand through the boy’s hair. “And the only way that guilt is gonna go away, is if you say sorry to Auston.”

“I will.” Hudson croaked out, another sob shaking his body. I sat on the floor with him for a half an hour before he began to relax. As much as I wanted him to apologize and be over with the ordeal, I figured a day with nan was needed first. A day for him to get out of the house, to see one of his favorite people, to avoid the situation at hand. He’d been at home waiting for Auston for weeks. He needed a break.

So the next morning, I helped him pack up and promised I’d be there the following day to see him. He asked about apologizing to Auston, but I said it was a good thing to give somebody space when they’re upset. I didn’t tell him I had plans to visit Auston. Kids didn’t need to know everything.

“One minute!” I heard Felix bark. I hadn’t seen the dog in forever. I was tempted to press the doorbell again for the sake of fun, but just as I reached for it, Auston was pulling the door open and hooking a finger in Felix’s bandana to hold him back.

“Hey, what’s-“ he stopped the second he looked up from his dog, a smile slow to form on his lips. Though it faltered when his eyes wandered, taking note of the unusual silence.

“No Hudson.” I spoke reassuringly. “I just came to see you.” I wanted to check on him, but Auston didn’t need to know that.

“You can come in.” Auston stepped aside and let Felix go. I walked into the house as he shut the door, greeting Felix with a high pitched hello and rubbing the dog’s ears while he padded his feet on the floor and wagged his tail endlessly.

“Somebody just got a hair cut.” I commented. “And he looks so handsome!”

“Thanks.” I looked up at Auston when he spoke, laughing at his sarcasm.

“You certainly look like you could use one too. Need me to cut it?” I offered, standing upright to pull at a lock of his brown hair. “It is getting a little long.”

“If you have time.” Auston shrugged. I could tell he was uncertain as to whether this was a quick stop or a full day visit.

“Well, Hudson’s having a sleep over with nan. So, if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t mind staying here tonight.” I smiled. “I’ll have all the time in the world then.” I watched him smile and nod, reaching for one of my hands.

“Yeah, yeah you can stay.” I was surprised when Auston pulled me into a hug, his entire body pressed against my own while his head fell against my shoulder. He was stressed. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was still about Hudson.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get this hair cut.”

Auston and I had been so busy, that we almost forgot how important it was to continue to nurture our own relationship. I couldn’t help the guilt I felt as I watched him walk up the steps, following at a safe pace behind. I missed him. The alone time, the childish nights of cuddling and making out. Even the failed dates we vowed to never go on again.

I followed Auston into the master bathroom, setting the toilet seat down while he got the shears and hair clippers out, as well as a squirt bottle. He made sure everything was functional and ready before turning to me with his comb in hand.

This had not been what I came over for, but I knew a bit of loving contact would loosen him up and hopefully cause him to be more open to the conversation we needed to have. I wanted to be on the same page with Auston before he and Hudson spoke again. Sure, Hudson had said he’d hated Auston before, and yes they had sorted that conflict out on their own. But this was a little bigger than that. Hudson had hit Auston’s insecurities right on the head and he didn’t even know it.

“Pop a squat.” I spoke, gently resting my hand on Auston’s hip and guiding him down onto the toilet. “What did you and Felix do today?” I created small talk as I combed through Auston’s smooth hair, glancing at his face occasionally to see his eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips.

“We went for a walk. Hung out by the pool for a little while, planned his next playdate with Zeus. Oh! And I ordered him some new toys and treats for his birthday.”

“I forgot it was his birthday coming up. How old is he going to be?” Speaking of the dog, Auston and I both looked toward the door when his tags jingled. Felix sat in the doorway, dropping a ball on the floor and watching it bounce into the bathroom. Auston laughed. I had missed his happiness.

“Not now, buddy.” He spoke to his furry friend. “He’ll be turning five.”

“Five is a big number.” I teased softly, earning a laugh from Auston. I set his comb down after I finished using it, reaching for the bottle to begin spritzing his hair. Once I was sure it was well wetted, I swapped once again for the shears. “Hold still, okay?”

“Got it.” We sat in silence for close to five minutes before I watched Auston’s shoulders drop. Relaxed? Relieved?

“How are you feeling today?” My tone grew much softer, trying not to cause any discomfort. I watched Felix lay down in the doorway before I began to cut Auston’s hair.

“I guess I’m alright. Still a little shaken up.. about everything that’s happened, but I’m okay.”

“I spoke with Hudson last night. He was pretty upset about what he said to you.” “I guess that’s good to hear.” Auston looked down at his hands. I sighed.

“You know how much he loves you, right? You are the first person on his mind every day.”

“Yeah, but-“

“No, Auston. Listen.. kids say things they don’t mean sometimes. They don’t have the best filters, or grasps on their emotions. And Hudson has never spent that long without seeing you before. It was a routine that got messed up, and for kids, routines are important. Routines are things they expect that they can trust to be consistent. This was a learning curve for everybody. He was anxious. He missed you, and it was hard for him to go to bed at night without hearing from you. He also doesn’t understand time.” I took Auston’s silence as a cue to go on. “Even if you did nothing wrong, he registered it as something wrong. It may take him some time to figure it out, but he still loves you, and once that consistency is restored, everything will be okay.”

Auston shuffled his feet slightly, nodding.

“I’m sorry I left last night.”

“Aus, a lot of shit happened last night. I didn’t expect you to stay. You’ve been so stressed, and I know that fight didn’t help at all. I’m just happy I can be here with you today.”

It was about fifteen more minutes before I finished cutting Auston’s hair. I set everything aside and grabbed a towel and a washcloth from his cabinet. “Why don’t you grab a shower, I’ll get you some clothes and we can go lay down for a bit.” I set the two towels down on the lip of the tub as Auston stood up. When I turned around, I came face to face with him.

“Thanks for being there,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper, hands landing on my hips. Our lips met briefly in a chaste kiss before I pulled away. “I’ll be fast,” he promised. I stepped out of the bathroom and pulled the door closed, fetching a fresh set of clothing from Auston’s dresser. I stepped back into the bathroom, placing the clothing on the counter top. Auston had already hopped into the shower, drawing the curtain back slightly to peek at me.  “Wanna join?”

I pretended to consider the question before I sighed, as if I was plagued by saying yes. “Fine, but only because I missed you, Matthews.”

“Awesome.” I watched the curtain fall closed, laughing softly to myself. I stripped down, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I slid the engagement ring off my finger, placing it in the jewelry dish by the faucet. One Auston had purchased for days and nights spent at his place. I climbed into the shower, Auston’s hands swiftly finding my body. I helped wash his hair, and rubbed the muscles that were sore while Auston busied himself with every inch of me. His behavior left me giggling for most of the shower, and once the water was turned off, I ushered him out, following close behind. Auston grabbed the towel I had set out for him, wrapping up with a smile on his lips.

“Gotta keep you warm,” Auston spoke, going the extra mile to kneel down and dry my legs. I ran my hands through his fresh cut hair while he worked, smiling to myself at how kind he was.

“Alright, why don’t you get dressed, Aus? I’m gonna go grab some clothes.” I slid out of the bathroom, grabbing a makeshift outfit for myself, constructed of Auston’s clothing. I had things to wear at his place, but his stuff was so much more comfortable.

When Auston stepped out of the bathroom, our eyes met. It had been so long since we were able to spend any time alone. I watched his expression shift into a look of mischief before he rushed in my direction. A gasp escaped my lips when he hoisted me up over his shoulder.

“Auston!” I shouted at him, but it was in vain. I felt him lift me up once again before my back came into contact with his mattress. Then I heard Felix bark, and soon he had joined us for some fun. The fluffy dog hopped up onto the bed, and I was quick to sit up to avoid any unwanted kisses.

“You’re an ass,” I whined at Auston in a playful tone. He climbed up onto the bed and gently pushed me down onto my back once again. Felix tried to invade our fun, sniffing at both Auston and I, before Auston gently waved him off.

“It’s not nice to insult your significant others.” Auston spoke, leaning in to press a kiss to my lips. He climbed off of me and up the bed, sitting down as I sat up. I joined him by the headboard, resting my hand beneath his jaw and bringing his lips to my own again.

“It’s not an insult. It’s a reality check,” I teased. Auston giggled softly, and I swore I could have heard him snort.

Auston laid down and settled his head in my lap. Felix approached with a wagging tail, sniffing at me, and my stomach, before laying down next to me.

“I missed you so much,” Auston whispered as his head came to rest atop my own. “I wish you and Hudson could have come to a game.”

“I know, it just wasn’t in the cards for us this time. It will be next time though.” Auston’s silence made me tense slightly.

“What if there isn’t a next time? What if we don’t make playoffs again?” I looked at him, brow furrowed.

“Whether there is or isn’t, Hudson and I will try to make every important milestone you reach. I can’t tell the future but I can tell you right now, that we love you very much, and we want to be there for you.” My words brought a smile to his lips.

“Thanks,” I pressed a kiss to Auston’s forehead. His eyes fell closed, sighing in comfort.

“Oh, and Hudson watched every one of your playoff games on the tv, just for the record.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews #singlereaderseries #singlereaderfic

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

Text

Some little details you might have missed in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

(Maybe part one?)

When discussing the Ice Court Heist at the start of the book Wylan explains that he speaks Fjerdan and although Jesper teases that he probably isn’t very good at it, the fact that Wylan has been to the Ice Court at least once before would beg to differ; as a diplomatic meeting it would probably be considered impolite if he and his family didn’t speak at least some Fjerdan when being hosted by what I assume to have been the royal family or at least higher-ups in the Fjerdan government. However, when he’s drawing up plans of the Court on the boat, Kaz asks why nothing is labelled and Wylan says “I don’t know Fjerdan”. He does, in fact, know Fjerdan (and it’s confirmed later that he speaks it well), but he is hiding the fact that he cannot write

In the Bathroom Scene™️ Kaz says that Inej’s tell is the way she squares her shoulders before making a move, “as if you’re waiting for the audience’s attention”. When Kaz goes to the slat in the next chapter, after the fight he squares his shoulders before making his speech to launch a coup against Per Haskell. I think this is really interesting and it absolutely shows what Inej realises at the time, that “the fight was just the opening act” but this, the talking and the convincing and the persuasion, this is Kaz’s superpower. I think this is so interesting and says so much about him, but it’s also a great Kanej parallel. More than any character I can think of, Kaz absolutely embodies the quote “I discovered at a very young age that if I talked for long enough I could prove anything right or wrong, so either I’m god or truth is relative. And either way, boo-yah” (which by the way is a quote from the brilliant sitcom Community)

This is my favourite Wesper parallel: in soc when Wylan uses a bomb to save them from the parem-drugged fabricator, Jesper says “Wylan earned his keep”. Wylan replies “Did I?” and Jesper says “Well, you made a downpayment”. At the end of Crooked Kingdom when the pair are able to go back to Wylan’s house because Van Eck has been arrested, Wylan asks Jesper if he really meant it when he said that he would stay and help run the business by reading to him, and Jesper says of course, but “I charge a pretty steep fee”. Wylan blushes and replies “well I hope the medik is here to fix my ribs soon, because I’d like to make a downpayment”. THEY’RE SO GODDAMN ADORABLE

This one I think is something people just forget, but Nina and Matthias are heavily implied to have slept together on Black Veil when they got from Ravkan embassy. The pair go to get changed and reappear “rumpled and rosy several long minutes later”. Jesper laughs when he sees them- he says “Staying on task?” to which Nina replies “I’m teaching Matthias all about fun. He is an excellent student, diligent in his studies” as Matthias gets progressively more and more embarrassed. But yeah I’ve never seen anyone talk about it I think people just forget

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik #the crows #crow club #ketterdam #kuwei yul bo #shadow and bone

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avatar-anna · 4 months

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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

April 2016

“Thank you for meeting me.”

Y/n settled into the seat across from Harry. Her hands curled tightly around her mug, apprehension seeping into her bones. “Of course.”

She had been surprised when Harry called her, asking to meet at the Beachwood Cafe. She hadn’t heard from him in months, not one call or text, not even an email. Not that Y/n really expected much when One Direction finally went on hiatus, but after zero communication, she wasn’t quite sure why he’d called her all these months later.

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Harry asked.

Y/n’s eyebrows raised a bit, but she answered him anyway after taking a sip of her coffee. “Fine, I guess. You?”

“Good!” Harry said excitedly. “Taking a break the last few months has been…I don’t know. Peaceful, but odd, you know? I’ve never had so much time to myself before.”

“Must be nice,” Y/n said, trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

“Yeah, but I realized that I kind of miss it,” he said. “I knew once we decided on the hiatus that I wanted to do my own thing, but I thought I would take a longer break, but I feel like I’m…itching to get back to work.”

That definitely seemed like Harry. Y/n had worked for him for years, and even when there were breaks between tours, he was hard at work—writing, going to Fashion Week, collaborating with other artists, vocal training, even trying new recipes in his state-of-the-art kitchen, which led to a phone call at one in the morning where Harry asked Y/n to come over and see if his macrons tasted "fluffy enough." It seemed only right that he rested for mere months before starting a new project. She could practically picture him at either of his homes in LA or London, scribbling in his leatherbound journal or playing new melodies on his guitar or piano (and the occasional late-night pastry party). As long as she’d known him, Harry had been a hard worker through and through. A little on the wild side when he had some tequila in him, but when it came down to his career, he was focused, determined.

“Good for you,” Y/n said, meaning it. She always thought he was capable of more. “So what comes next for you? Have you recorded songs already?”

“Not quite. I’m planning a trip to Jamaica to write and record there. It’s remote, serene, a good place to get away. So we’ll have to start booking flights and places to stay and—”

“I’m sorry, ‘We?’” Y/n asked, her brow furrowing with confusion.

Harry matched her look of confusion with one of his own. “Yeah, I mean—I need you. I can’t do this without you.”

The sentiment warmed Y/n’s heart for a moment, but his immediate assumption that she would drop everything just because he asked her to brought the irritation swarming back. “Mr. Sty—Harry, you know I don’t work for you anymore, right?”

“What do you mean? Are you talking about the hiatus? I just thought we could all use some time off, but…I guess I just thought—”

Harry didn’t finish his thought, but his cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Y/n would’ve found it cute if he hadn’t been so dense. Resentment still circled around her like a fog, and she wouldn’t let it go so easily, she couldn’t.

“I was employed by your management, Harry. To be an assistant to a member of One Direction,” Y/n explained. “I was let go. I had to quickly find another job doing something else.”

“Oh.”

Y/n supposed she should’ve anticipated being fired, but she didn’t. There was a lot of information that she was privy to that most people weren’t, secrets that were tightly bound by an NDA when she was first hired, but talks of the hiatus was very hushed. She knew to suspect that somewhere down the line the boys would finally take a break, but it came a lot sooner than she was prepared for, and she was left jobless before she had the chance to line something else up. Y/n thought that Harry would give her the courtesy of a warning, but he said nothing about it to her, didn’t offer much except a side hug after One Direction’s last performance.

So yeah, she was a little bitter.

“I’m—I’m really sorry, Y/n. I know it doesn’t make up for…all of this and everything you went through, but I am truly sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Y/n believed him, believed that he was sorry for everything that went down, but it still hurt to know she wasn’t someone he was close enough to talk to about all of this at the time. She was Harry’s assistant, she knew that, but they’d been through a lot together. But he was ever the professional it seemed, and it was her job to remember that, not his.

When she realized her coffee was finished, Y/n stood up. “Well, it was good seeing you, Harry. Good luck on your next project. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Wait, but—you’re not—you‘re leaving?”

“I have to run a couple errands before work," Y/n explained. She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “But really, no hard feelings. I wish you all the best.”

She left Harry at the table, heading for the front of the cafe and toward the busy street beyond. Her heart felt heavy as she walked away, but she tried to shake the feeling that she was walking away from more than just her boss. Former boss. Like her mother always reminded her, she couldn’t be a personal assistant forever.

“Wait!”

Y/n turned on instinct, eyes widening as Harry jogged after her, his little bun bouncing with each step. He skidded to a stop in front of her, green eyes wide and searching. For what, she wasn’t sure, but the heat of his gaze was enough to make butterflies stir in her stomach.

Putting on her best front, she raised her eyebrows, waiting for Harry to say whatever he needed to.

��I wasn’t kidding earlier. I need you, Y/n,” he said. “I—You’re the only one who really knows me, who I know will have my back no matter what. I need a familiar face in my corner.”

I need you, Y/n. Those words were her kryptonite. Year after year, Y/n heard Harry's voice over the phone as he roused her from sleep, read the text messages while she was getting her nails done or watched TV in her hotel room, or on the rare occasion she went on a date. But she had to hold strong. Y/n had been devastated by her sudden layoff, but now she had a life, and she didn't want to get sucked back into Harry's very alluring web of charming smiles, cheesy jokes, and endless adventure. That was his life, not hers.

“I have a job, Harry. I can’t just drop everything and quit because you suddenly want me to—”

“What are they paying you?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Harry pushed on. “What are they paying you? I’ll double it.”

Scoffing in disbelief, she said, “It’s not about the money—”

“Triple,” he countered. Harry took her hand in his and squeezed it. He looks desperate, Y/n thought.

“I can’t just quit my job because you remembered I existed,” Y/n said quietly, pulling her hand out of his. She clung to her resolve, hoping Harry would make this easy and just let it go, let her go. “I—I deserve more.”

More of what, she wasn’t sure, but Y/n knew it was true. Harry only reached out because he needed something from her, and that hurt more than she cared to admit.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Harry said, looking down at his shoes. A pair of scuffed Chelsea boots he wore practically everywhere. Y/n had bought him a pair of Vans one year, an attempt to switch up his wardrobe, but he still chose the boots nine times out of ten. “Just—At least think about coming to Jamaica. Please?”

“Harry—”

“Not as my assistant. As a guest. A friend,” Harry amended. “We’re planning on staying at a huge villa, and I want to make up for being an idiot. Just—Just think about it. Please.”

Despite everything, Y/n found herself wanting to say yes. It was that magnetic pull she felt toward Harry that had kept her working for him for so long. He was an important person in her life, and up until he’d all but ghosted her after the hiatus, she thought she was important to him too. In spite of his misgivings, Y/n still wanted to believe that she was.

It was so stupid, but it felt good to be wanted by him. She was an idiot, she knew that. But her friendship with Harry was legitimate, he'd just acted like a complete idiot. She'd known him long enough to know he was very capable of acting like an idiot. So even though she shouldn’t, even though she had carefully lined up her reasons not to in a little line, she started to cave.

But she couldn’t make the decision now. Not when Harry was looking at her with pleading green eyes and his sad little puppy dog face, his cologne dizzyingly lovely. No, she owed it to herself to really think about what she wanted. If getting sucked back into that whirlwind was worth it. Worth getting her heart properly broken when she knew he would never feel the same about her.

"I'll show up at work, you know," Harry said. "I'm not above it. You might think I am, but I'm not."

Y/n had no doubt in her mind that he would. Along with being an idiot, Harry was very stubborn, and very persistent. She had years with him to know that. Did she really need Harry Styles showing up at her place of work?

“Fine, I’ll think about it,” she finally said, trying to pretend like her heart was screaming to just agree. But her heart was an impulsive little shit that was bound to get her in trouble.

Harry’s face broke out into a wide grin, one that displayed those famous dimples and lit up his entire face. It was hard to feel like he didn't think she was the only person on earth to exist when he looked like that, like he was convinced she’d already said yes. “I’ll take it.”

#harry styles #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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gloomwitchwrites · 24 days

Text

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

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mrsharrington83 · 2 months

Text

Code Blue

Summary; The aftermath leaves Y/N second guessing everything in her life. Losing friends and witnessing her boyfriend of two years getting closer to his ex is enough to push her over the edge. Will they be able to pull themselves out of this hole that’s darker than the Upside Down itself? (For the sake of this fic, what happened at the end of the last episode of season 4 hasn’t yet happened)

Warnings; usual Stranger Things, things. Swearing, blood, injury, alcohol consumption, mentions of death and suicidal thoughts. If any of this is triggering, please don’t read.

A/N; I haven’t written anything in so long! It’s a long fic! 6.5K words, my longest on here yet. I apologise if this is bad, I’ve just been in a writing mood so thought I’d let out a lot of angst and fluff (we love it) I am a British writer (England) so sorry if things don’t make sense to you! Thank you for stopping by, hopefully my writing streak stays strong. Requests are always open. Love to all xoxo

The aftermath of the supposed earthquake had everyone second guessing. Some people left, other people were packing to leave. Having known what really went down, you sat in silence staring into your vanity mirror as everyone else you knew went to help the community at Hawkins High.

You just couldn’t stomach it. Cuts and grazes over your skin, tiredness evident in your eyes, your hair still clumped with dirt from the Upside Down, dried blood. You hadn’t even showered yet. You didn’t know how to process anything that had happened over the past 72 hours. You were accustomed to this kind of thing having it been a big part of your life for the past few years, the most recent battle however, took the biscuit.

Small Polaroid pictures littered around the back wall of your desk. Smiles, memories, better times. Max and Dustin when she stole his cap. They were in mid laugh so it was blurred a bit, but a happy memory that was stuck in time. That same Max was now in hospital, fractured bones, blind, unresponsive. Not laughing and joking with her friends, not happy, not anything. Doctors didn’t know if she’d ever wake. She was such a selfless soul, way beyond her years, but still so young. Too young. You all were.

Pictures of the group, you and your boyfriend Steve. A picture of you and Eddie during a D&D game. His hair all over the place, tongue sticking out, you laughing, Dustin in the background pulling a stupid face.

Memories.

Eddie.

Your best friend.

Gone.

Just like that.

He didn’t run this time, and fuck. You really wished he did.

The tick of your small clock dragged you away from the pictures, the light ticking mocking you, “shut up! Shut the fuck up!” you screamed from deep in your lungs, a howl so painful from your chest, putting what was left of your strength and upset from the past few weeks into knocking the blasted thing to the floor, hearing the glass and mechanics hit the floor in one swoop. It was a gift from Eddie one Christmas as you were pretty much always late. Bittersweet.

Guilt built in your stomach as you stood up fast, pushing your stool back with your legs, failing to the floor, cupping the bits of broken glass as sobs wracked your body, not realising your hands were clenched around the shards, the all too familiar claret running through the lines in your palm and down your fingers, dripping into a pool on the wooden flooring of the bedroom.

Your breathing hitched as you remembered Eddie die in your arms, the way blood trickled from his mouth. The look of pure terror on his face. He knew he was dying, but he kept it together till the very end for the sake of you and Dustin. His best friends, the people that were there for him no matter what everyone else was saying. You didn’t want to believe it. Dustin’s screams and sobs as the light left his eyes. You saw them gloss over. The way you both shook him, screamed into his ear, telling him not to leave you both behind. Your hands covered in blood. His blood.

Dropping the bits of glass on the floor, you pushed your feet and newly cut hands against the floor, the small slitters of glass that were still on your palm slicing deeper into your flesh until your back met the wall, your hands and body shaking, the tightness in your chest getting worse and you struggled to fill your lungs with air. You felt like you were about to pass out.

The past 72 hours had been, by far, the worst time of your life. You’d witnessed what you thought was your boyfriend of two years get closer to his ex, eyes can be deceiving, but there was something in his own eyes that glimmered whenever he spoke to Nancy, deep down you always wondered what Steve saw in you. Maybe you were just a knock off version of Nancy. Someone to keep him grounded in all of this. A warm body to forget all the wrongdoing in the world. Someone he knew cared about him. Perhaps more than he cared for you. You didn’t know that of course, it was just what your mind was telling you.

Your best friend had died for a town that hated him, Max, the girl who had adopted you as a cooler older sister after Billie died was lying in a hospital bed with the looming same fate, Vecna was still out there somewhere and you were sure there was even more danger on the horizon.

Even after everything that happened, your mum hadn’t bothered coming home. She was always away with her new man for weeks on end. She had called up one night before the phone lines cut out to make sure the house was still standing after witnessing the news, but other than that all you got was, ‘with everything that’s happened in Hawkins, I’m going to stay with carl for another few weeks, maybe more. Be careful out there.’”

You’d never felt more alone. You didn’t blame your friends or Steve. They wanted to help out, of course they did. You did too, but you were in no way the right frame of mind to be seeing people crying for their loved ones, talking to people that had lost others whilst you were reeling from losing your own.

You pulled yourself off the floor with great difficulty. It felt like you had a ton of bricks weighed down on you. Metaphorically speaking, you did. Though it wasn’t bricks, it was the weight of hurt and anger, of death piling up one by one. “Get yourself together Y/N. get your fucking self together.” Rummaging through your dresser, careful not to get blood on everything, you pulled out some comfortable lounge clothes that were bigger in size, purposely avoiding one of Steve’s t-shirts as you dragged yourself to the bathroom.

Putting down the toilet seat, you placed your clothes and rinsed your hands under the cold tap. Water on open cuts made you wince, but at least you felt something other than emotional pain. Watching your fresh blood mix with water and into the sink like a mini whirlpool was almost mesmerising. Picking out the last few shards of glass making the water redder with each bit. You were lucky water was still running. There were some parts of Hawkins that had no water.

Turning the dial on the shower you undressed. Peeling your clothes from your skin. Clothes you wouldn’t bother to wash. They would go straight in the bin. You had enough awful reminders on that night, you didn’t need more. Stepping into the shower, careful not to slip, you submerged yourself in warm, running water and closed your eyes, feeling old blood, mud and debris leave your tired body.

Steve had come home early, with both of your parents almost always being away you basically lived with each other. When your mum was away, he’d stay with you and if his parents were away, you’d stay with him. He had his own keys to your place, and you had your own to his.

Steve kicked his shoes off in the hallway, tiredness in his bones. The house was silent apart from the sound of water from the shower, you were at least out of bed. When Steve left this morning you were curled up in a ball with covers over your head, blocking out the world. He leant down and burrowed his head in your blankets kissing the top of your head, saying how much he loved you and that he’d be back as soon as he’d helped out in Hawkins High, with a running car it was easier for him to pick up robin and bundle Dustin, Will and Mike in the back of along with all the supplies, it was a squeeze, but not a long drive and with everything that had happened, the kids didn’t mind being on top of each other, breathing, alive. In truth, Steve didn’t want to get out of bed either. His temples ached, his bones felt heavy and the wounds he had were still throbbing, not letting him forget about the events.

He sighed and flopped onto the sofa, leaning his head back hoping to get the knots out of the muscles in his neck, tension. He didn’t want to disturb you in the shower, even though all he wanted to do was bury his face in your hair, your skin, breathe in the only place he felt safe, the only thing that made sense to him. Seeing everyone at Hawkins High, the missing persons post filled with faces he knew, faces he didn’t, the heartbreak of all of Hawkins. All he wanted was you, but instead he just sat there.

You pressed your head against the cool tiles in the bathroom as you turned off the shower, the familiar car engine shutting off in the drive, you knew Steve was back, yet you didn’t think you could see him face to face yet. You breathed out heavily and stepped out of the shower pulling a towel from the back of the door, wrapping it around yourself and another for your hair. Red staining the white cotton as you’d opened old wounds as well as your still bleeding palms that stung. You bent down to get the first aid kit from under the sink as you got to work on your wounds. You at least looked cleaner, your split lip and eyebrow not looking as bad now you’d washed, half of these injuries you didn’t even know when you’d got them, from fighting demobats to being thrown across the floor by Eddie when you tried to help, bruises from being pulled away from your friend as his lifeless body lay motionless, wounds from yourself from hitting the wall in desperation. You looked how you felt. Completely broken. You wrapped bandages around your hands and left it at that. Drying off and throwing oversized clothes on, you reached for the door handle, your hand visibly shaking.

Going back into your room you sighed at the mess. Somewhat thankful that Steve had stayed downstairs. Glass and blood everywhere. You grabbed a dustpan and a brush from a small closet next to the bathroom as well as the small towel you used for your hair, sweeping up the small shards of glass and discarding them in a small bin next to your bed. Wiping the claret up with the small towel and putting that in the bin too. You sat on the end of your bed once again staring at the pictures behind your vanity desk.

“Y/N?” Steve called up the stairs noting that the shower had been turned off for a while, worry lacing his voice. You could hear it.

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” You stood up and dragged yourself to the top of the landing. You could just throw yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Hope you’d have an ounce of peace from your racing mind, but you couldn’t do that. You couldn’t bring yourself to take yourself over that edge, to make the people that cared about you lose another. You’d all lost too much. Begrudgingly you walked down the stairs, the illuminating light from the sun almost blinding you, you’d been living in darkness for the past few days, being in the Upside Down and then closing all the curtains upstairs as soon as you’d got back home. You’d almost forgotten how bright daylight could be.

Steve was waiting in the kitchen for you, his eyes visibly glowing when you walked into the room, as though you lit up the small space when you stepped in. A smile tugged on your lips that suddenly dropped when you remembered he was looking at Nancy exactly the same not too long ago. The same nagging thoughts you had earlier pulling you back. Knock off version of Nancy. Now that Johnathan was back, of course he came running back to you. Steve looked down to your hands and frowned, he didn’t remember you hurting your hands so much they needed bandaging,

“Sweetheart? What happened?” Steve was by your side in an instant his hands gently over yours as he inspects the bandages,

“I dropped some glass, not a big deal. Just got a little cut up in the process of cleaning it up.” You lied through your teeth, you couldn’t be bothered to talk about Eddie again and how you’d broken the last gift he would ever give to you out of anger. Steve continued to look at your hands, careful not to disturb the bandages around them,

“Do you want me to have a look? I can bandage these a bit better for you, make sure there’s no glass and...” you cut him off with a, ‘I’m fine.’ And pulled your hands away from his warmth, Steve looked a little deflated, but understood. All of you had patched each other up countless times that it was almost routine now, you’d learnt how to stitch wounds, what ointments and antiseptics to use, you basically had a mini pharmacy under your sink for things that people would never believe.

“Honestly, I’m fine Steve.” You forced a smile and went round the Kitchen Island feeling his eyes burning through you. Your house wasn’t the biggest, it was snug. The kitchen was weirdly one of the bigger rooms and probably the nicest, it was one of the only rooms your mum put any effort into before she started gallivanting around the globe. It was bright with several flowers littering the windowsills, yellow lace curtains to match some of the décor. How the flowers hadn’t died yet, you didn’t know. You never watered them.

You and the rest of the group had spent ample time in this kitchen cooking cookies and brownies for movie night, Max and Lucas always managing to burn popcorn, Steve rushing to open windows and flail a tea towel at the fire alarm to stop it beeping whilst Robin was toppling over laughing at Dustin with brownie mix all over his mouth, You’d also spent ample time in here with the older lot of the group, your mum had quite the alcohol stash. Probably enough to open a bar downtown. From several different bottles of vodka, gin, whiskey to wine, beer, cider and god knows what other potent liquid that did the job, which is exactly what you were heading for now.

Steve was slumped against one of the dining chairs as he watched you move around the island, he knew exactly what cabinet you were riffling through, “Ahhh, there it is.” You picked out an unopened bottle of vodka and put it on the side as you went through a different cupboard to pick out a decent glass.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Steve sighed as he watched your every move, “I know things aren’t great at the minute, but we really need to pull together.” You opened the vodka and poured a small glass, turning around and leaning against the counter with your ankles crossed, the glass of vodka in your hand. You shrugged and took a gulp, the burning from the alcohol igniting your insides.

“Look, sweetheart, please.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, the lack of product evident, no one ever saw Steve walking around with no product in his hair, probably because without it, it was so fluffy and never sat in the right place according to him, “this isn’t the answer, that isn’t going to help. It’s not going to bring...”

“Shut up!” you screeched, smashing the glass back onto the counter, thankfully not breaking it, “you think I don’t know that, Steve? For goodness sake! How stupid do you think I am?!” Steve is taken aback, he’s over stepped a line and he knows it, “I know it’s not going to bring Eddie back it’s not going to stop what’s going on here,” you look around the room, “it’s not going to stop Max from being in hospital, it’s not going to stop those poor kids dreaming about what happened over and over again, how fucked they’re going to be in years’ time if they even make it that far, from losing countless people and battling these things over and over again, but maybe, just maybe it will stop my racing thoughts, the hurt, the anger, the resentment I have for this stupid fucking town for five goddamn minutes, okay?! everything is falling apart at the seams, we’ve all lost so much, I even thought you were getting cosy with Nancy again!” you bite your tongue getting caught up in the rift, Steve looked towards you bewildered. You turn back to the vodka bottle, filling your glass halfway, drinking it down like water and filling it up again, “I’m not asking you to understand Steve, I’m not even asking you to deal with this, you know where the fucking door is.”

Steve stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly, turning you to face him, moving the hair that had fallen so effortlessly over your features, “I love you Y/N, whatever you thought you saw between me and Nancy was not that. I’m happy for her and Johnathan, really. I’m so glad were now with the right people, the people who ground us and make this stupid crazy life worth living, you’re my muse. I would never do that to you, sweetheart. Not ever,” moving his hands over your covered arms, to your hands, holding them gently in his, “I’m not going anywhere Y/N, just please, I don’t want to lose you too. I can’t.”

You looked Steve dead in the eyes, his glassed over, tears threatening to fall. The beautiful honey eyes you’d got lost in time and time again, “Maybe you already have.” His hands let go of yours as he visibly slumped, and took a step back, you might as well have been holding a gun, a bullet to his chest with the way he was looking at you. Turning your back to him, your own tears threatening to fall, you grabbed the bottle again unscrewing the cap, pouring yourself another glass.

“What do you mean?” Steve is silent again, his presence still behind you, feelings of uncertainty heavy in the air, “Y/N, look at me please...” the defeat in his voice made you feel awful, this was your boyfriend of two years, the person that had stayed by your side that whole time, through everything. The good times and the bad, the way you both laughed, the random dates he took you on, sometimes even after work, some of which ended up being group outings as one of the kids had seen you both and then got on the walkie talkies as quickly as possible, they ended up calling that ‘code blue’ as the first time it happened Steve was in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, the movie nights, the late night talks, walks, your safety net, the countless jokes that weren’t even funny. Helping him with his hair, the days he was sick and you’d take care of him, and the days he would do exactly the same back for you. He never faltered, he was always brave, always stayed strong for you, for everyone, but here he was, seconds away from breaking down. A painful ache in his voice that cut you in half, the same ache breaking the last pieces of your heart that were still intact, you wiped your tears away with the back of your sweater, turning around to see Steve once more, pain drowning his features,

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do this anymore.” he sucked in a shaky breath as a sob broke from his lips. Pain. Pain that you had caused. You finished your glass of vodka, keeping your back to Steve, you couldn’t watch him break, you couldn’t see the sadness and heartache on his face. As if he hadn’t been through enough recently,

“Y/N, please,” his voice was low, strained, as though he was bleeding out on the spot behind you, “don’t do this, we can get through this, we can get through anything, please just don’t...” you turned round to Steve his eyes visibly blood shot probably from tiredness and the tears that were free flowing down his cheeks,

“I’m sorry Steve.” You walked past him, a slight sway to your walk from too much alcohol in a short space of time on an empty stomach as you tackled the stairs, all you wanted to do was sleep, before you even got half way up the stairs you heard the front door close causing you to stop on the spot, your own sobs now tearing way through your body, this pain was tearing you apart, so much loss, but you had caused this last one.

You found yourself sitting on the end of your bed looking at the pictures behind your desk once again, would you ever feel that kind of happiness again or was this the new norm? A burning hole in the middle of your chest that was once whole and pushed together in the shape of the people you loved. All of those memories seemed like a lifetime ago, how time and life could be fleeting, oh how you took it all for granted.

***

Two weeks had passed.

Two long weeks.

Probably the longest two weeks of your life.

In those two weeks you’d had almost everyone knock on your door, mainly Robin and Dustin, “Y/N, open this door right now or I promise you I’ll put a brick through your window and climb in there myself.” Dustin shouted as he looked through the small glass patterns on the front door for signs of movement, “I’m not joking Y/N.” Dustin looked around your drive and picked up half a brick, “ten seconds, Y/N!” finally he saw movement and put the brick down on the grass, you opened the door and huffed,

“Dustin, every day for two weeks, ae you not bored yet?” He pushed you aside gently and kicked his shoes off before throwing himself onto the sofa and turning on the small TV as if he lived there, “and how can I be of assistance today?” you stood in the doorway of the living room, you no longer had the bandages on your hands, the cuts on your hands were hardly visible now, your other physical injuries were also doing much better, some might not even scar, not that you cared about a bit of scarring,

“You look like shit,” Dustin looked back at you and scoffed, he wasn’t wrong, you’d been wearing the same kind of clothes for two weeks, anything you could get your hands on. Mix matched sweats and sweaters, sometimes Steve’s t-shirts, on a very rare occasion you treated yourself by wearing a pair of jeans. Your usual full of life hair was lifeless and scraggly from the lack of brushing, your eyes blood shot from lack of sleep, red lips from gnawing at them constantly,

“Well, love you too, Dustin,” you rolled your eyes and went to the kitchen fetching juice and cookies on a tray, “so what is it today?” Dustin cleared his throat and made his way into the kitchen, taking a few cookies off the tray as he took a seat around the table drinking juice you’d bought specially for him,

“It’s Steve,” your breathing hitched as you looked to the floor, biting at your already raw lips, you pulled a second chair out and sat opposite Dustin, taking your own cookie and nibbling at it. You hadn’t eaten well for two weeks now,

“What about him?” you took a swig of your own juice and sit looking towards your younger friend,

“Don’t give me that, Y/N. I know you still care, Robin tells me things, y’know, and you’re not someone that doesn’t care about people,” Dustin shook his head, “this act is bullshit, Y/N. Steve is over there wondering what he did wrong, what he can do to help you, he’s broken, Y/N and none of us can get through to him, ne needs you and you need him and we need you both. We need our kick ass non babysitters back. We need to stick together. We can’t all break otherwise what do we have?” you bit the inside of your cheek letting Dustin talk, you had been unfair, everything in this world was so wrong and you were breaking the only good thing in it,

“I’m scared, Dusty,” you looked to him and he nodded, not wasting time to eat more cookies, all the kids loved your cookies,

“We all are, Y/N. you know this isn’t over right?” you looked down knowingly and started to play with the patterned table cover, “Steve needs you, I need you, we all need you. You know Eddie wouldn’t want this right?” you breathed deeply at the mention of his name, “you’re the bravest person he knew, he told me, and do you know what else?” you looked up from the table, “he loved you and Steve together, he saw how happy he made you and that’s what he wanted for you. He wanted you to be happy.” You sighed, breath shaky as a tear fell from your lashes onto the tablecloth you were playing with moments before,

“Well he got one thing wrong, he was the bravest.” Dustin put his hand over yours and gave it a light squeeze,

“Please just come and see Steve? Everyone is round there trying to cheer him up and he looks just as shit as you, if not more. If you don’t come with me, the others are going to try one by one, I’m the nicer one.” He stood up from the table, hopeful,

“Dustin I can’t,” disappointment clouded his eyes, “I can’t go over there empty handed, help me make some cookies?” the usual toothy grin from Dustin was back, one you hadn’t seen for a such a long time, one that made your heart swell. You loved those kids so much and you’d do anything to protect them, you felt bad for wallowing in in your own self-pity when everyone you cared about was going through the exact same thing as you. You’d nearly lost the one thing that made sense and you were going to try and not let that slip any further. You and Dustin got to work on the cookies, not failing to get flour all over the surface and yourselves. Once the cookies were in the oven and cooking, you looked over to Dustin, “Keep an eye on the cookies for me? I’m going to try and sort this out a bit,” you pointed to your mop of a hair as he grinned and nodded, picking up his walkie as you left the room,

“Guys, it’s Dustin, over.” He waited for the usual static of the walkie patiently as he pressed more buttons hoping to hear from the others,

“Hearing you loud and clear, Dustin, what’s the status, over.” Mike was on the other end, uncertainty in his voice, but hugged by hope, Will, El and even Lucas in the background hugging over the other walkie talkie hoping for a shred of good news. Max was still in hospital, though in good hands. There was hope that she’d still wake up, she was strong and a fighter. Lucas sat by her bedside every chance he got, but he too needed fresh air sometimes, to see his friends. Being cooped up waiting for someone to wake up wouldn’t do anyone any good if it was constant. Same four walls day in, day out. It took some time for him to realise that however.

“Guys, we have ourselves a code blue. Over.” Dustin chimed excitedly as the rest of the youngsters screamed in joy, they were out of ear shot from Steve and Robin, all around the pool as it was such a lovely day in Hawkins, warm with a light breeze hitting the trees and pool every now and then causing small ripples, birds still chirping. Even amidst all the uncertainty and heartache, life could be beautiful.

You looked into the mirror having put a little bit of makeup on, an extreme rarity for you with everything that had gone on the past few years, you’d finally put a brush through your washed hair and changed into something more you, high waisted jeans, a black t-shirt and a light denim jacket you could take off if you wanted, you felt the warmth through the bathroom window as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more, “presentable.” You could smell cookies downstairs signalling Dustin had kept to his word and kept an eye on then, not letting them burn. You hurried down the stairs with a skip to your step and twirled to Dustin who was standing in the hall with a cookie jar in hand, ready to pack them once they’d cooled a little,

“There’s the Y/N I know! Yes!” Dustin fist bumped the air with his free hand wishing the cookies would cool down faster. You gathered your shoes and a small bag to put your keys and anything else you needed in,

“what if he doesn’t want to see me?,” you stopped in your tracks, looking at Dustin unsure, “what if I’ve hurt him too much and he never wants to see me again?” you play with the hem of your denim jacket, backtracking, wondering if this was a good idea after all,

“you’re the only person he wants to see, Y/N. we just invite ourselves in and he’s too nice to tell us to get out,” you shake your head,

“You know that isn’t true, he loves you guys as much as I do, even if he’s in the worst mood possible, he’d always rather have you guys around, you know that,” Dustin nodded, putting the cooler cookies into the jar sealing them tightly, “did you bike over here?” you questioned as Dustin shook his head,

“I didn’t,” he grinned and dug his hand in his back pocket, pulling Steve’s car keys out and waving them in your face, “he doesn’t know, obviously,” Dustin shrugged as you shook your head and put your head in your hand laughing in disbelief, a real laugh, something you forgot you could do,

“Dustin! You could have caused an accident!” you tried to sound serious over your laughing that just wouldn’t stop,

“well, you don’t see many cars on the road these days after what happened, maybe people are too scared,” he shrugged once more, “not me, now. Let’s gooooo!” Dustin ran for the front door, cookies in hand, and his small backpack you didn’t realise he had draped over a shoulder,

“Ahhh. Not so fast, keys!” you extended your hand to Dustin, Steve absolutely loved that car, sometimes you wondered if he loved that car more than you and okay, Dustin got there safely, but now he was in your care he wouldn’t be driving that thing,

“Spoil sport,” he ginned as he handed you the keys stepping out into the outside. You took a deep breath. The smell of the outside you hadn’t seen in weeks. The light breeze through your hair the sun tingling against your skin, butterflies and birds, nature. Things you hasn’t stopped to look at for such a long time, “earth to Y/N,” you shook your head and walked towards the car, opening it for you both.

You hadn’t driven in forever, was it something you could forget? Fastening your seatbelt, making sure Dustin did the same, starting the car and opening the windows, you pulled the sun visor down, a small Polaroid falling onto your lap. You turned it around to see a picture of you and Steve, your heart beating against your chest as you ran your finger over the photo. It was the first one you took together, before you were even official. Halloween 1984. That stupid party, the night Steve and Nancy broke up. You found Steve crying on the back step, you spent the rest of the night trying to cheer him up. One too many beers, weed and a stupid camera, “he kept it...” Dustin looked up at you as you put the photo in the dashboard opposite Dustin,

“Of course he did, he keeps everything,” you didn’t know that, you didn’t say anything further as you pulled off the drive, it wasn’t a long drive. It was actually an easy enough walk, you didn’t live far from Steve. The nights he would randomly turn up at your house and throw pebbles at the window even though no one else was in the house, small memories making you smile.

The drive was quiet, Dustin looking out the window the whole way there, your heart still hammering against your chest, would people be happy to see you, would they hate you, would things be the same, what the fuck were you going to say to Steve? Pulling onto his drive, things got too real, you heard laughter from the other younger people of the group outside as you locked up the car, Dustin rushing to the back gate with cookies, though before he could you were tackled by El, Mike, Will and Lucas, “Y/N OH MY GOD YOU’RE HERE!” mike exclaimed as you laughed with the kids, some of them sopping wet from the pool, of course they still loved you, “we all missed you so much, it’s so good to see you” you ruffled everyone’s hair, something you always used to do when they were younger, something you still hadn’t stopped, tears in your eyes, you smiled, for once they weren’t sad tears,

“I’ve missed you all so much, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, I’m sorry I haven’t been stronger for you all.” They all hugged you tighter, understanding, when did they all grow up?

“we all understand,” Lucas looks at you empathetically, “Max would want us all together, so would Eddie,” you hugged them all just that little bit tighter as they lead you into the back gate, not much had changed in Steve’s back yard except the grass was unkempt, the pool still clean somehow, “we will let you talk to Steve now,” you took a deep breath and looked towards the back sliding doors Robin leaning against them smiling as she ran out to hug you,

“Oh praise the heavens you’re here, I cannot deal with him in there for one minute longer,” you looked towards robin apologetically and she shook her head, “none of that, Y/N. Go see him, bring our Steve back, yeah?” she smiled and sat next to the kids, stealing one of the cookies you made.

You made your way into the house, the house that had so many different memories, you kicked your shoes off and put them where you always do before poking your head into the living room, Steve’s back was towards you as he was staring at the TV something you guessed he’d been doing for the past couple weeks, a lot like you really. His hair was too dishevelled and free of product, but oh fuck did he look like home. “If you’re there to try get me outside in the pool again, Robin I swear to fuck I will change the locks on this house.” He signed defeated and tuned round, his pupils dilating, shock on his face, the evident bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, “Y/N?” he scrambled off the sofa as fast as he could, scared you were a figment of his imagination, “is... is it really you? You’re here...” he stood opposite, reaching out to you,

“Steve...” tears welled in your eyes, “I am so, so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you, I didn’t want what I said, I was so lost in my own mind,” he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “please forgive me, I’m so sorry,” you pulled away to look at him, tears in his own eyes as he brushed your free falling ones away with his thumb, “I love you so much, I was so scared of losing you too that I fucked up and lost you anyway,” he pulled you back into him, the smell of cedar, bergamot and a slight hint of cigarette smoke, home.

“You didn’t lose me, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything,” he pulled you into him, lips crashing together, cola Popsicle and a small hint of your home cooked cookies that Dustin must have been bringing to him secretly. Everyone loved your cookies. He pulled away and smashed his lips against yours again over and over, the taste of salt now from both of your tears, small lazy kisses planted all over your mouth as he pulled away, your lips slightly swollen, his honey eyes full of life once more, he was never going to let you go. He pulled you flush with his body, your head resting against his chest, as he ran his fingers through your hair, “you’re my home, Y/N. Wherever you are. That’s home to me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, okay?” you kissed him again, your cherry chapstick smearing over both of your mouths,

“you’re my home too, Mr. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington,” you looked up to him, a smile on your face, no longer crying as you knocked your hip with his. The emptiness in your heart glazing over a little, the pieces of your broken heart slowly reconnecting, the feeling of life, love, family.

“Have you seen my hair right now?” he ran a hair though it, washed, but lifeless. “Give me a minute, yeah? Put a movie on.” He kissed you softly before sprinting out of the room. You sat on the sofa you’d sat on countless times as you went through old rentals that would probably never be returned as the video store was one of the places to be destroyed, you placed a VHS in the TV as Steve bounded down the stairs, his hair no longer lifeless and messy, but perfect. Your smile so big your jaw could dislocate, “better? The hair is back,” he grinned and jumped over you on the sofa, “Return of the Jedi? One of my favourites.” He pulled your legs over his lap, both of you draped over the sofa like nothing had changed, his hands caressing your knee, smiles not leaving either of your faces.

“GUYS, CODE BLUEEEE.” Dustin shouted from behind the sofa as everyone else bundled in, “and look at that, Farrah Fawcett spray,” Dustin grinned,

“That’s top secret, dude!” Steve shook his head, a genuine laugh falling from his mouth as everyone pulled blankets and cushions around themselves, your cookies in hand. A good old fashioned movie night, things were going to be okay, you looked over to Steve, his eyes glistening as he squeezed your leg. The people you chose as family, Robin in the corner of the room beaming for the both of you. Both of her best friends back together, where they belong. There was a long road ahead for all of you, but at least you’d always face these things together. You were all so much stronger together. A team. A family.

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