Hiii so I was wondering (if you have the time to do it ofc) if you could do an Akaashi x reader story (preferably female) where she’s Karasuno’s 1st year manager and she has a crush on Akaashi and they accidentally kiss ( like he falls on her or something ). Again, thank u so much and I’m a HUGE fan of your writing!
aslkdhfasdj this is an extremely cute idea and i love it ill consider using it for another fandom!! however i've long moved on from the "first year" age so writing that now just sounds extremely uncomfortable😖
definitely a huge fan of the accidental kisses bro im even gonna write that down maybe do headcanons later omg ty honestly this makes me wish i had written it back when i started years ago so i wasn't so uncomfortable with it now :( super cute idea
Hey i rlly liked your Reborn series and i wanna asl is it too late to be added to the taglist? You're writting is rlly good i wanna read more of ur work so ill be going thru ur masterlist hehe
Heccc no my dude, I’ll totally add u to the list! Not even kidding, I’m super excited to jump back into writing now that it’s Christmas break😌😌
Ps: new chapter IS coming out on Christmas y’all!! Let’s hope writing chapters for reborn is like riding a bike😬
Your writing is amazing. You clearly have a talent and im glad i get to see it!!
Oh thank you so much!! This comment makes me really happy, so I’m glad I get to see your writing too lol 🥰💜
Yan!bokuto would be breathing down your neck, wanna go out with friends? He'll be with you not letting you meet them without his supervision. Wanna go the bathroom? He'll go too. He's super possessive and easily jealous. 😳😏
Yessss. Just imagine the one damn time you get to go to the bathroom alone and he’s just leaning against the door when you open it. He falls on his ass but scrambled to his feet just so he can tackle you in his arms.
“You took so long, baby! I thought you got away or something!”
Shit, tho, is there really a point in asking him for some time alone? “No, YN. Not happening.” “But Bokuto-” “Dont even fucking think about it. I need you by my side so I can keep you safe. You’re never leaving me.”
👉👈🥺 can i request a suna rintarou x reader au where you helped him chase after a girl he likes but you slowly developed feelings for him and he called you out on your bday just to tell you he finally got the girl... :((
ye old request box item number three, and bruh all my apologies cuz this one didn't get much more than what was requested :'(
Yn helps him go after girl
She starts to get feelings for him
On your birthday, no one remembered
You get a call from him and get happy, bc at least someone remembered. Your heart fills with joy
You answer, and Suna is all excited, not making sense. You tell him to slow down with a giggle, and he does.
“She’s going on a date with me this Saturday.”
Silence. He’s no doubt waiting impatiently for your response, but it never comes.
“...YN?”
Beep.
You hang up and begin to cry. You were truly all alone.
*GIF not mine*
Summary: Last night, your friend sent you pictures of Kuroo with some girl at a random club. In short, not only was he a liar, but he was also a cheater, and you couldn’t stand to be with him after this.
A/N: Okay, so just to be clear: this was originally going to be a Taehyung (BTS) fanfic but I didn’t wanna mess with my masterlist bc I’m lazy. *This means Kuroo is aged up and a little ooc.* I also didn’t really wanna ruin my image of him by writing a cheating fic, but I just wanted to write some angst tonight. I hope you guys like it!
Word count: 1679
You saw them. Pictures of him and another girl at some club. Last night, he said he was hanging out with his teammates, and you had only nodded your head, so innocent at the time. If only you knew, then maybe the pain would hurt less. Maybe.
The door opens in your peripheral vision while you sit on the couch, back straight and eyes downcast.
“How was practice?” Kuroo hadn’t noticed you sitting in the dark room. He flinches at the sudden question.
“It was good.” With a small glance in your direction, he halts on his path to the kitchen in search of dinner. “Are you okay, kitten?”
“I’m fine.” It’s a lie, and you both know it, but somewhere deep down you wanted one last moment of serenity with him. Just one, before the storm hit, before the skyscraper crumbled, before your relationship ended.
“Come on, tell me the truth.” He plops down on the couch beside you and wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders. A bittersweet emotion floods through your system at the action. It relaxes you, but on how many other women did it have the same effect?
Your chest is tight and thanks to his proximity, you don’t want to breathe. What if he notices how every intake of air trembles and shivers with what you hope is pure anger and frustration at him, but is actually sorrow and agony? What if he forces you to end this before you have enough time to revel in his warmth, in the love you still have for him? Your mind aches at the flurry of thoughts running rampant.
“Okay,” you admit, “I’m not fine.” When his head drops on your shoulder in a comforting manner, you repress the urge to hurl. Please don’t touch me, but please don’t stop touching me. You never wanted to lose him, but it seems he was never yours to lose in the first place.
The dim living room is silent aside from the television chattering in the corner. Replayed, forced laugh tracks only deepen your misery, making a joke of your pain. The space smells like the rain Kuroo had tracked inside, the drops having soaked into his hanging jacket by the door and into the pants that rub against your bare legs.
“You can tell me anything, kitten. You know that.” Rage bubbles deep in your chest at his words and you yank away from his grip, propelling yourself to the other half of the sofa and throwing him a glare.
“Can you?” Deep in your mind, you wonder if he has the decency to admit what he did, but you know him better than that. Not once has he ever even admitted to sneaking your last cookie, even as you watched him choke on it. Kuroo’s eyes widen at your words and he nervously shifts to face you.
“What are you talking about?” he gulps, looking everywhere but you. He bends one leg under the other and anxiously taps his fingers against it, a nervous habit you’d noticed when you first began a relationship with him. On your second date, it was adorable. When he tried to avoid admitting he cheated, it was aggravating.
“I think you know what.” Your gaze burns into the side of his skull with just enough pressure that he cracks.
“I swear it was an accident!” The confession is weak and rushed, but it doesn’t hesitate to trample all over your heart. Tears sting your eyes and paint your cheeks while you bite your lip to distract from any nonphysical pain. It doesn’t work. No matter how hard you scrunch up your face and clench your teeth, it just doesn’t work. Fury and resentment for his betrayal roll off you in waves.
“Oh, so your dick just accidentally slipped right into her?” you laugh bitterly. “What, did you fall on a banana peel?” Kuroo can’t stand your shaky words and he looks to the side with flared nostrils. A hand is now twirling around the strings of his sweatshirt, a movement you’ve been subconsciously mocking this whole time on your own clothes. The clothes you borrowed from him.
“You weren’t supposed to find out.”
“Oh, well that makes this whole situation so much better,” you scoff. “I’m so glad I wasn’t supposed to find out!” Your voice raises to a wobbling yell and he jumps. With a snarl, you stand up from the couch and try to stomp away. His rough hand covers your own and stops you.
“YN, please! Let’s talk about this!”
“No!” you shout in his face, yanking away from his grip and returning to your path.
Your bedroom is deathly quiet and cold compared to the unbearable heat in the living room. Thoughts run wild through your head while you load a bag with everything you own. Clothing, cords, anything you use in the shower, it all weighs down the backpack. At last, you’re only missing one thing. But as you reach for your phone on the nightstand, a picture breaks your intense focus.
It’s you and him on your five-month anniversary. The amusement park ride you had just gotten off is far behind you two in the background. Kuroo’s frozen in pure joy, beaming at your green face while you stare back at him with adoring eyes.
His arms are around your waist, yours are around his neck, and distantly you remember the other pictures from that moment. The one where he had pressed a kiss to your nose, and the one where you had yacked on his shoes directly after. The corner of your lips quirks up at the memory just as a drop splatters onto the frame, soon followed by more and more until it looks like raindrops racing on a window.
Your sniveling is silent as you hug the photo to your chest, sitting down on the bed. Every breath is trembling and every unheard sob racks through your body. It hurts so much. When the door creaks open, you wipe your cheeks swiftly with one sleeve of Kuroo’s sweatshirt.
“YN,” he murmurs, peering in at you. His face is puffy and flushed, much like how you imagine your own.
You don’t respond, so he enters slowly, gently making his way over to you. Suddenly, he drops to his knees in front of you and tangles his arms around your waist. You tense at the feeling of his face shoved forcibly against your stomach as he leans over your thighs, crying into you.
“Please don’t leave me,” he whimpers in a disheveled heap against your lap. “Please don’t do this.” The onslaught of tears causes his body to shiver uncontrollably, shaking yours in return. Eventually, his volume grows. Every regretful moan and howl begins to break you down bit by bit, echoing throughout the house until you finally drop your hands into his hair. While your own eyes grow wet once more, you tenderly comb through the wild, black tufts.
“Tetsurou.” He squeezes you tighter and you choke out a sob. “Tetsurou, come on.” You tug up against his scalp but he only shakes his head.
“Please don’t do this, YN.” It’s a broken whisper, and you feel it more than you hear it. Each slowing breath exhales into your abdomen hotly while he slips away reluctantly. On his knees, he stares up at you pleadingly. His warm, hazel eyes pierce right through your heart while his large hands remain on your thighs, running up and down at a deliberate pace.
“Please,” he mumbles once again, pressing a kiss to your bare kneecap before nuzzling his forehead against it, fingers trailing down to your calves. The word slips out of his mouth repeatedly, each one hoarser than the last.
Through all of this, your heart races and stutters unsteadily while your head aches from the day you’ve had. You return to brushing his hair to calm him, but your eyes lazily wander to the bag beside you. It’s completely packed. You have a friend in the city you can live with. Your phone is sitting directly on top of the pack, just begging you to call her. You know what you have to do.
“I have to.” Kuroo freezes and your chest pounds while you reach for your bag.
“Please,” he whispers once more, not moving a muscle from his seat on the floor. You slip out of his grasp and grab your things, exiting the room with a broken heart. Hurried footsteps race after you just as you open the door to the outside.
“I’ll do anything!” he cries out suddenly, hand slamming it shut. “Just… don’t leave me.” His bottom lip quivers while he waits, observing your every move. Hesitantly, you reach up and cup his face, running your thumbs along his damp cheeks. Instinctively, he grabs onto your hips and closes his eyes blissfully.
“I know you will,” you croak out, shaking your head with a bitter smile. “And I’m sorry, but that’s not enough.” You turn and peel away from his grip, slipping out of the house and hiking your bag up on your shoulder. The door gradually closes behind you with a rush of air and you open your phone to contact your friend.
It almost slips out of your hands when a loud crash sounds from within your home. A heartbroken sob follows and you try to ignore it while walking away.
Part 2 (Second Chance)
Part 2 (Never Again)
Lev: YN! YN! I saw a yakt yesterday!
You: A what?
Lev: A yakt!
You: I think you mean-
Kuroo, cackling: Don’t tell him!
Lev: Don’t tell me what? I just saw a yakt. A YAKT!
You & Kuroo: *die laughing*
Lev: WHAT?!
Kenma, playing his game: It’s pronounced ‘yacht,’ dumbass.
*GIFS not mine*
Kuroo and Kageyama Version
A/N: I’ve got like a million ideas for these, so just be prepared. (PS: someone needs to tell the star wars writers to get some yandere kylo ren out here😤 like yall im thirsty)
Word count: 1269
Bokuto Koutarou:
He’s the type to spring to the other side of the room the second he hears the word “Chumbawumba” fall from your lips.
It’s a mewl and whimper all wrapped in one that swiftly and harshly rip his heart in two.
While you crush a pillow against your chest to try and assuage the pain, a wave of horror dawns on Bokuto’s face. He’s watching every move you make to ensure you’re still actually breathing just as the first tear slips.
Soon, it’s not alone as he starts bawling, his whimpers and sniffles leaving his face a damp, mucus-drenched nightmare.
“Oh Bo...”
“YN I HURT YOU!”
You could physically watch as that fact ate him up from the inside out. First, he crumpled to his knees, and then he hugged them to his chest. Muffled sobs echoed around the room louder than your cries of pleasure ever had, leaving you to wallow in pity as your boyfriend beat himself up.
“Bo, I’m okay, I promise.”
It’s a struggle at first, but you still attempt to ease yourself off the bed. Bokuto’s ears perk and his head raises but the second he spots you reaching out for him he springs to his feet.
“NO!” Tears start falling even faster when he notices how you flinched at his cry.
“Please, YN,” he continues, voice lowered, “I don’t want to hurt you again.”
Pursing your lips, you try to take another step but he presses himself harder against the door, hand scrambling for the knob. Just as he finds it, you pounce on him, snatching his wrist and yanking it towards you.
“YN wait-”
“Shut up,” you huff out, gripping him even tighter when he starts twisting and tugging his arm. Without missing a beat, you yank the hand towards your body and press it just over your heart.
His fingers are cold against your hot, sticky skin, but that doesn’t stop you as you watch his expression, waiting for a reaction.
“...Why?”
“Because Bo,” you roll your eyes and press both hands over his own, “my heart is still yours, no matter how many times you get a little rough in bed.”
He’s silent as he studies your hands on his, even more so when he raises his other to wipe the saltiness from his cheeks.
“I... I never wanted to hurt you, YN. Not in a million years.”
“I know, babe. And that’s what the safeword is for,” you gesture back to the bed. “Remember? We came up with it so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt me, and that’s all that was--an accident.”
He sniffles once more before nodding. “Okay.” The hand on his own cheek transferred to yours with a hesitancy you had never felt before. When his fingertips met your skin, he sighed in relief, cupping the side of your face and running a thumb just over the rosy apple of your cheek.
You smile and press a kiss into his palm. “All right, how about we watch a movie instead?”
“I don’t think-”
“If you go out and get my favorite candy, I might just give you forgiveness cuddles.” His eyes glowed with anticipation.
As always, Bokuto was only willing to accept your kindness by working for it; he never thought he deserved it otherwise. That’s why the second you suggested the offer, he zipped out of the room in only his boxers and T-shirt.
“I’LL GET YOU ALL THE BOXES, BABY, JUST YOU WAIT!”
“Bo, don’t forget-”
“SHIT, MY SHOES!”
Tsukishima Kei:
He knows it before you even whisper “ginger shrimp.”
Your lips formed into an “o,” but not a good “o.”
Tsukishima’s eyes widen before he turns away, climbing off you and reaching for his glasses. They clatter to the floor and he leans down to grab them, trembling hands unfolding the lenses and pushing them up his nose.
“I’m sorry,” he grunts. His voice is hoarse and quiet; less scathing than you had ever heard it. Even in a moment like this, you wish you could see his face but his back is turned toward you completely.
“Tsukki...”
“I’m going to... go get you an aspirin and a glass of water. E-excuse me.”
Shock encompasses your face the second you hear your boyfriend--your overly-critical, always-sarcastic boyfriend--stutter for what must have been the first time in his life.
You don’t bother to point it out though because the door is already closing behind him the minute you shake yourself out of the daze.
His bedroom is silent, but not the comfortable silence you and him are both used to. It’s painful and awkward and worries you about whether Tsukishima will even bother talking to you for a while.
You can’t even hear a sound in the rest of the house because the atmosphere is so dark and heavy. A lump forms in your throat and you glance at the clock.
Ten minutes.
Ten minutes have passed since he said he would leave to get you a painkiller. It didn’t even hurt anymore at this point, and truly what surprised you the most was how hard Tsukishima took it on himself.
You decided to go investigate after another five minutes ticked by.
The hardwood floor left a flood of chills racing up your body as you tiptoed through his room and out into the hallway. With only his thin sheets to keep you covered, you sneaked down the stairs and padded into the kitchen.
No luck.
His white blanket dragged along the floor as you traveled past the small opening into the living room, finally spotting your boyfriend.
Long fingers tangled into blond hair as his back curled over, elbows stuck on his knees while he cradled his head.
You chose to stay silent and not disturb him, instead making your way over and plopping onto the cushion next to him on the sofa. He raised from his position and turned to you, eyes snapping open.
“Sorry, I didn’t get your-”
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you twisted your body to trap him in a hug. The sheet slipped down your body but you didn’t bother adjusting it, not when there were more serious matters to handle.
“YN...”
“Shut up,” you dug a hand into the nape of his neck, shoving his face into your collarbone. “I’m fine, you doofus. You didn’t kill me; I’m not as fragile as you think.”
You felt his jaw clench against your chest before he huffed, not-so reluctantly returning the hug with his arms around your waist.
The living room was silent for a moment, just you and Tsukishima soaking up each other’s presence in the early midday hours with only the birds outside to keep you company. His skin was warm and bare against yours, but, unsurprisingly, his fingers were colder than ice.
“I told you that was a bad idea, you know.” And there it is.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
Tsukishima pulled away and glanced your body up and down in what he must’ve thought was a discreet way.
“It sounded like fun, you know. At least I thought you would’ve liked it.”
He set his jaw. “If it meant you never getting hurt again, I’d say we should stick to vanilla from now on.”
“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?”
*GIFs not mine*
A/N: started watching this show for momma Steve, stayed for the other, also hot characters. Don’t judge me if a vecna version of this comes out soon👀 Enjoy!
Billy Hargrove:
He dreams of you often, but never quite like this.
You’re in his arms; his lips are on yours, and your hands are in his hair.
When he pulls away, it’s to brush a strand back from your face, pushing it behind your ear while gazing into your eyes. A smile is on his face, inherently small and lopsided, but genuine.
It’s one of those times where he can’t believe how happy you make him, how much he loves you. You turn him into a teenage boy with a puppy crush all over again, but as long as no one else is around, he doesn't mind that one bit. Vulnerability did not come easy to him, but with you, he’d tear down every wall he’d ever put up just to get closer to you. Just to hold onto you that much longer.
“Billy…” you hum, your hands coming up to cover his own along your cheeks. He feels infinitely warmer, more relaxed at your touch, and he leans that much closer to you.
“YN…” Billy drawls back teasingly, blue eyes soft and expectant on yours. Your breath ghosts over his lips, and fuck if he didn’t hate that you made a shiver roll down his spine.
“I hate you.”
His smile falters. “What?”
You tug his hands off your face, leading them to drop to his sides before stepping back. You shake your head. “I hate you, Billy.”
Billy’s body grows cold. His lips part as he searches for words, eyes raking over your face for any hint of jest. “This isn’t funny, YN.” He lets out a breathless laugh, but it’s dull and fake and trying to draw some sort of usual response from you.
“It’s not supposed to be. I’m serious, Billy.”
His nostrils flare, and he wants to be angry. He wants to grab you and pull you back into his chest and make you wish you’d never said those words, make you wish you never hurt him, make you promise that you’d never hurt him like this again.
You said that once, that you’d never hurt him like he has been before. You promised.
He bites into his bottom lip, willing a level of restraint, or rather, indifference.
She promised.
Time moved slowly the second you pulled away from him. Carefully, your arms came up to cross over one another at your chest. Your eyes hardened, not angry or frustrated, but certainly more serious and intentional from when you had said his name earlier.
He’d never seen you so cold—not at him.
“What changed?” The words slipped from his lips, but the second they did, he didn’t bother fighting to take them back. He felt trapped in his own skin, unable to escape the anger, the hatred, the i that coursed through veins. “Why now, I mean, after-” he cut himself off with a scoff, bitterly licking his lips, “-after fucking everything we’ve been through together, you just, what, hate me?”
He hated it, this. He hated you, and he’d never done that before. Even the thought of his betrayal being directed toward you made him feel sick. She promised.
Billy looked away, wrenching a hand through his hair and not bearing to stare at you when he spoke. “You- God,” the corners of his eyes pricked, “you said you loved me. What happened to that?” He glanced at you, hating, hating, hating that you were making him feel this fucking way. Throat tightening, he barked out, “What fucking happened to that?!”
“I don’t love you, Billy,” you muttered, seemingly unaffected by his display of emotions. “I could never.”
And you saw it. He knew you saw it. He knew you saw it because he wiped it away, and your eyes had followed his hand as he had.
He was crying. Goddammit, he was so fucking weak.
Despite it all, despite every single horrible moment in his life, he never knew the feeling of true despair until you were taking your love for him back and saying it wasn’t real.
“Billy, come on.” Your tone was persuasive, placating like you were trying to reason with him. You were talking to him as though you were telling a child that Santa or the Easter Bunny wasn’t real, that they never were, and they never will be.
You used that same soothing, calming tone the first time you tried to convince Billy that you did love him. He remembered your exact words. “I love you, and no matter how much you fight me on it, I won’t let you take that away from me.” You had been caressing a fresh bruise on his cheek, and the kiss you had left there had overpowered the pain of his father’s wound.
“Don’t,” Billy mumbled. “Stop.”
Don’t corrupt that voice, he pleaded, though the words wouldn’t escape him. Don’t take that away from me.
“Billy.” You drew his attention back to you, and, despite the stiffness of his cheeks and lips, he sneered at your pitying gaze. “Be realistic. How could I have ever loved you?”
“Stop.”
“Your father hates you, Billy.” Your voice raised, eyes burning with a new fire into his own watery ones. “Your own mother left you. Do you know what that makes you?”
“Stop.”
“Do you know what that makes you, Billy?” you demanded, teeth bared. “It makes you unloveable.”
“STOP!”
“Billy?”
“STOP!” Billy flinched awake, sweat dripping down his forehead and spine, shivering at the breeze of his bedroom. Chest heaving, his eyes were wild and unfocused as they darted about the dark room, few objects such as his dresser and desk only visible due to the moonlight filtering through his window.
Sighing heavily, Billy dragged his hands down his face, groaning softly and massaging his temples.
“What a fuckin’ nightmare,” he grumbled before peering over at you.
You, still curled up beside him, sleeping peacefully. Your hair splayed out along one of his pillows, one of his shirts wrinkled and twisted around your form, your leg still crooked over his hips.
You were still his. Thank fuck, you were still his.
“YN,” he shook you awake, one hand on your shoulder.
You hummed in your sleep, lips twitching downwards at the disturbance. “Wha…?” you grumbled, not bothering to open your eyes.
“Babe, c’mon, let’s go for a drive. Wake up.”
“Nooooo,” you moaned.
“Yessss.”
“Can I sleep on the drive?”
He raised a brow. “You think you’ll be able to?”
One eye of yours peeked open, focusing on him instantly. You pouted.
Billy’s chest tightened, but for the first time since the dream, he felt like he could breathe. Thank God. He was not going to sleep another wink tonight. Not in that damned house, at least.
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. Stop giving me your little puppy dog eyes.” You rolled off the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud before rising to your feet and wrapping a blanket around your head and shoulders like a cloak. “But there are ground rules, mister.” You held up your hand to him. “One, you can’t drive over 30 miles an hour. Two, no loud music- or, wait, no music at all-”
“What?”
“-Three, only for the next hour or so, then we’re going back to my place to go to sleep.” You gave him a pointed look. “Deal?”
His lips sloped into his usual smirk as he rose to his feet, arms instantly moving to wrap around your waist and tug you into his chest, close and tight.
“Deal.”
You. You, you, you. God, he never wanted to think about that nightmare again, and if he never again heard the words “I hate you” fall from your lips, even as a joke, it would be too soon. You were still his, and he knew, he fucking knew, dammit, that you loved him.
“Why are you so sweaty?”
“Don’t ask.”
Steve Harrington:
“Steve,” Robin muttered softly. Her gaze was downcast, and she had one arm around the front of his chest and shoulders, trying to hold him back and redirect him. “Don’t look.”
“What’s going on?” He tried to peer around the others, all of whom either had their backs turned or looked at him mournfully. “Hey, what’s-” he tried to push past Robin, but Dustin rushed forward to help stop him, “-what the hell is going on?! Guys?!”
They all stood in a half circle around… something, he couldn’t see what. The kids and Nancy and Goddamn everyone except-
“YN,” Steve breathed out in realization. His heart was stuck in his throat, and the pounding of his own blood drowned out the quiet whispers of the others. “No. No, no, no, no—NO!” He shoved past the pairs of arms, pushing past a tearful Max and a sobbing Eleven, only to feel his whole body flinch back at the sight.
“YN,” he whispered again, horrified at the sight, not wanting to believe it. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh God.”
Blood was- was everywhere. Steve’s knees wobbled and gave out as he collapsed into the forest floor beside you. His hands hovered over your body, feeling the heat rolling off it in waves from the gushes of hot, crimson liquid seeping from obscured wounds. A pool of it, he realized, dampened the knees of his jeans, cooling against his skin.
“Steve,” you whimpered, “I’m scared. It hurts so bad.” You trembled, hands curled into tight fists as you clenched your eyes shut, tears trailing down into your sweat-soaked hair.
“This isn’t right—you can’t… fuck.” He tore a hand through his brown tufts before springing into action, scraping himself along the damp soil to ease his legs underneath your back, your body lying perpendicular to his so he could lean your head in his lap.
“YN, I…” he trailed off, gasping for air as his wavering hands encompassed your face. “I don’t know what to do,” he choked out helplessly.
And you reached up to grasp his wrist, eyes so innocent and terrified. “Steve, please, I don’t wanna die.”
“This was never supposed to happen,” he rambled indignantly. “No no no because I was supposed to protect you because I always protect you, and now this is going so, so fucking wrong.” He felt the oncoming headache that arrived with fresh tears, the snot dribbling down his nose and onto his upper lip, the cold sweat that covered his body head to toe. He wanted to throw up and sob and hold you close and tight and never, never fucking let you go.
His own heart, as you lay in his arms, was being ripped from his chest. No help was coming, there was no time to heal or press on what was already far too damaged to halt. You were… you were…
“Please,” you wailed, your screams echoing into the forest. He could hear the others shuffling around behind him, their own sobs fading into the mix. “No, please, I don’t wanna die! Steve, please!”
Steve could feel your cheeks getting colder, and he watched as your hands slowly began to unfurl at your sides. “YN, I’m so sorry. Don’t leave me, I can’t-” his own whimper cut himself off.
“Steve,” you gasped for breath, your voice so small, so weak. “You said you would protect me.” The furrow in your brow smoothed itself out, and your chest began to slow its heaving movements.
“I know, I know,” he weeped. “I love you so much, please don’t leave me.”
“You love me?” you whispered back. Your eyes, that had been locked on his for so long, filled with fear and anguish, shifted away, losing themselves in the black sky above. A small smile broke out on your bloodstained lips.
“YN?” Steve questioned fearfully, sniveling as he peeled the hair away from your face.
“I never knew that you loved me, Steve.” A single tear broke loose from your eyelids as you let them droop closed. “I love…” You mouthed the word you before you sighed, your body finally losing all of its tension, its stress—its fear.
Steve let out a quivering breath, his hands cupping your cheeks swiftly. “YN? YN?!”
“Steve.” A hand pressed on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off viciously.
“YN!” He peeled back your eyelids, blanching at the blank look in your irises. “No, no, come on, I was supposed to protect you!” he cried out hysterically.
Steve’s body curled over yours like he was collapsing in on himself, mouth mumbling pleas as he slid a hand over your chest, above your heart.
Nothing.
“Steve!” The hand on his shoulder was more insistent, shaking him back and forth violently.
No. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now, not yet.
“Steve, wake up!”
“What?” Steve’s eyes flew open, and his head straightened up from the back of the couch, causing Dustin to yelp and jump back in shock.
“Jesus, what the fuck?!” the younger boy screeched, leaving Steve wincing and pressing two hands to his ears.
“Goddamn,” he hissed, “You really need to hit puberty faster; these voice cracks of yours are gonna leave me deaf one of these days.”
“Well it’s not my fault you sleep like a bear in hibernation.”
“Ew, what? That's disgusting, Dustin,” Steve grimaced.
Dustin facepalmed. “You’re thinking of ‘heat,’ genius, I said ‘hibernation.’”
Steve faltered, nodding absentmindedly. “Oh.”
“Yeah, anyways,” he rolled his eyes, “you better head home.”
“Movie night over already?” Steve dug his palms against his eyes, trying harshly to wipe away the image of—er, that happening to you—from his mind.
“Uh, yeah,” Dustin deadpanned, “Princess Leia changed out of her bikini about two hours ago, but I’m glad you were paying attention.”
“Well, look, if it makes you feel any better, the dream I just had was terrible,” Steve groaned, rising up from the coach and grabbing his jacket off the coffee table.
“Yeah, I heard. Something about ‘oh no’ and ‘don’t leave’ and ‘YN, YN, YN.’” The tween rolled his eyes. “Dude, if you ask me, I’d say just ask her out already, ‘cause your pining from a distance is getting pretty depressing.”
Steve stared at him with pursed lips and blank, dead eyes.
Then he fondled for his car keys in his jacket pocket and huffed. “Yep, I’m gonna go. See ya around, Henderson.”
“I’m serious, Steve!” Dustin called after him. “It’s getting creepy! Why don’t you just tell her that you’re absolutely whipped for-”
Steve slammed the door of his house, trekking towards his car while grumbling under his breath. “Frickin’ Dustin. I’m not whipped. Nobody,” he slid into the seat of his car, staring into the rearview mirror and adjusting it, “nobody has ever had me…” he paused, staring at his bloodshot eyes, at his tear-stained cheeks.
“Fuck.” He glanced back at Dustin’s house, its windows still open and flashing with the action of a movie.
Goddammit, Henderson.
Steve put his car into drive, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, but when he slowed at his usual turn, he slammed the brakes on the car instead and stared at the sign of the intersecting street.
You lived almost two blocks from there—Steve never realized that.
He could—no, no he couldn’t. It was the middle of the night, around eleven o’clock according to his dash, so why in the world did he have the right to wake you up for news like that?
It can wait. His feelings can wait.
He said those exact words ten more times as he drove to your house, clumsily throwing it into park alongside the sidewalk in front of your home. He knew which window corresponded with your room, as aside from being the group babysitter and helicopter mother, he was also the chauffeur.
“This is stupid,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. “This is so dumb; this is a terrible idea. One of the worst, actually.”
But he picked up the pebble out of your garden and chucked it at your window anyway, pure adrenaline launching the rock at a high speed and making perfect contact with the middle of the glass.
It also left a sizable crack.
“Oh shit,” Steve hissed under his breath, hands flying up to his hair as he saw your light switch on. “Shit, shit, shit.”
The window slid up, and before he knew it, your glare found his form. Your head was leaned outside of the window, hands braced against the sill as you whisper-shouted at him. “Seriously, Steve?! What the fuck?!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he jogged closer to your house, questioning scaling the side to climb into your window, but then he noticed your tangled, matted hair and nightshirt. “Yeah, that’s my bad, I, uh,” he chuckled nervously, “sometimes I forget my own strength.” He shrugged lamely.
You gestured angrily at the window. “How the hell am I supposed to fix this?”
This is going so wrong. Dammit, he knew this wouldn’t go well.
“YN,” he called out to you, trying to get your attention as you investigated the crack with a sigh.
“What, genius? Got another grand idea?” you snarked. “Why don’t you go break the locks off my front door too while you're at it-”
“YN, I’m in love with you.”
You choked on your next words, eyes flying open. “What?!”
“I’m just- I’m in love with you, and I really wanted you to know that.”
While he shifts back and forth on his feet, your mouth bobs open and closed.
“Are you serious?” you finally land on.
“Don’t call me Shirley?” he offered back lamely, and you dragged a hand down the front of your face.
Nonetheless, you wore a wide, abashed grin. “You’re a goddamn fool, Steve Harrington.”
Steve shook his head and smiled at that. “Only for you, babe.”
“Now go home and go to sleep so I can kiss you tomorrow, dumbass,” you waved him away.
A stupid, lovesick smirk took over his face, painting him the absolute dope you always pegged him as. “Sounds like a plan, doll.” He spun around, swallowing a large gulp of air and wondering if you could see the way his hands shook as he unlocked his car.
“Steve! Wait!”
He turned back, almost too eager, to see a large blush blooming on your face in the light of your room. “I love you too.”
What a horrible, terrible, shitty-ass, perfectly timed nightmare.
Can i also be tagged to reborn? Love ur story btw! <333
Of course!! I’m glad you’re liking it☺️💜
Stoooop ushijima in the coming home post killed me 😭😭 I love big stoic guys who are actually teddy bears sndndnddn every one of the guys was cute but his part was my favourite 🥺
Aidnksncksksk yessss I love big scary guys being soft boys too🥰🥰 especially when it’s just for that one person they love😍 I’m glad you liked the post!!
18+, minors dnrI write sometimes ig maybe, we’ll see🫠Masterlist . . . . . . Side BlogRequests? What requests?
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