#[r] books n bikes

[hotsaucekisses]

Who up kissing their f/o??

[chaotic-toasters]

Immature

Leah Williamson x Teen!Gunner!R

“Oi! What’re you doin’ up there? Get down!”

You glanced down at your vice captain distastefully. “Why?”

“It’s dangerous!” Leah cried, standing at the base of the tree just outside the Arsenal training facility. “You could fall and break your arm or something!”

“So?”

“Uh—what d’you mean ‘so’?! You’re okay with getting a broken arm?”

You shrugged, gazing at the training pitches from your spot in the tall oak tree. “I can still play with a broken arm, eh?”

Leah’s mouth was agape. “No, you can’t!”

“Yes, I can!” you protested, climbing higher. “Katie scored a hat trick on international duty with a torn bicep! I’ll be fine.”

“Fucking Katie… you’re benched if you climb any higher!” Leah yelled.

You frowned. “Why?”

Leah scowled. “Because! You’re gonna get hurt!”

“Why?”

“Because! Those branches could break!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re heavy!”

“Why?”

“Becau—because! Get down from there!”

You stuck out your tongue, starting your descent. “Fine! You’re no fun.”

“Yes, I am! Just because I care about your well-being doesn’t make me boring!” the defender glared, taking a drink from her water bottle.

“Yeah, right! Steph cares about my well-being, but she’s loads more fun than you!”

Leah spit out her water, chasing after you as you sprinted into the building. “You take that back!”

-

“Who on the Arsenal squad is the best trash-talker?”

You glanced at the camera, then back at the BBC interviewer as you pondered the question. “Other than me? Maybe… maybe Caitlin.”

“Interesting,” he nodded thoughtfully. “And who would you say is the worst trash-talker?”

“Oh, easy. Leah Williamson.”

Kyra laughed as she walked past. “Oi, Lord Farquaad! Your kid just said you’re the worst trash-talker on the team!”

The England captain gasped indignantly, momentarily turning away from her media day activity set up nearby. “I’m great at trash-talking, what are you on about?”

You scoffed. “Oh, please. Your trash-talking skills are as bad as your bike riding skills.”

“OI!”

-

“Kyra,” you whispered, poking the Aussie that looked just as bored as you did at the seemingly unnecessary meeting. “Psst.”

She glanced over to make sure Jonas wasn’t paying attention, then looked over at you, lowering her voice. “Yeah?”

“When we get out of here… the sprinklers are on, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

The two of you went silent as Jonas glanced over, pretending to pay attention. “—have a better squad than them. If we go by the book, they will not be able to score…”

You smirked conspiratorially, voice even lower than before to avoid detection from some of your older teammates. “I’m gonna push Leah into them.”

Kyra grinned. “I’ll tell the admin.”

-

“Admin’s recording,” Kyra whispered to you as she jogged past, going to bug Steph. “Good luck.”

You grinned, waving to the camera discreetly before walking up to Leah. “Hi, cappy.”

She gave you a suspicious look, but kept walking. “What d’you want?”You shrugged as the two of you stepped onto the training pitch. “Just wanted to ask you what I should make for dinner.”

Leah raised her eyebrows, but nodded anyway. “Pasta’s always goo—OOF!”

“SURPRISE ATTACK!” You screeched, tackling her right into the nearest sprinkler’s line of fire.

“Get off me, you cheeky devil!” Leah protested, laughing. “I don’t wanna get wet! It’s cold out here!”

You snickered, wrestling her to the ground. “Womp womp!”

Nearby, Steph was shaking her head in amusement. “I swear, Y/N is like Leah’s Kyr—OI!”

Kyra gleefully shoved Steph into another sprinkler set up a few feet away, cackling like a witch. “SURPRISE ATTACK!”

“HEY!” Steph cried, chasing after her. “You’re such a pest! Get back here!”

You laughed at the two aussies, then gave Leah a rough noogie with one hand and the camera a thumbs up with the other. “Love you, cappy!”

Leah stuck out her tongue, giving you a slight push. “You and Kyra are so bad.”

“Not nearly as bad as your culinary taste.”

“OI!”

[hollaforlyla]

dating the ninja: series (headcanons) | lloyd garmadon , jay walker x reader<3 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

a/n: theres a word limit, and i dont have enough space to add all the ninjas in one whole post, so we're doing this in parts of two. hence; series! part one will be lloyd and jay :) also this is mostly my old writing, words may not be spelled correctly.

warnings: none really, more like i cant remember lol

just enjoy (╥﹏╥)

 · It took him so long to consider liking you. He's been through so much, especially after Harumi, he's scared to fall in love again. 

 · But he's been with you, even before Harumi and he knows you're not a bad person. He just has some trust issues her's trying t deal with. 

 · Harumi kinda broke him :/

 · After considering his crush on you, it was Jay and Kai's mission to make him confess to you. Nya was with you on the other end. You told her you liked Lloyd for while and she had the biggest, dorkiest smile on her face as she squealed and hugged you. 

 · When Jay confessed to her, she was speechless, she can only imagine the pain you feel not being able to tell the person you liked them. 

 · Confessing to you was the hardest thing he's ever had to do. He would stammer on his words, make weird Lloyd noises like groans or whines when he messed up on a simple sentence, and his face would be as red as a tomato. 

 · You felt stunned when Lloyd stood in front of you waiting for a response. You would say nothing but give him a hug and said 'I love you too, Lloyd.' and he had tears of joy falling from his eyes.

 · Nya, Kai, and Jay would be in the back hiding, spying on the too. When they say them hug and kiss each other on the lips, Jay jumped out a screamed "LET'S GOO!!" 

 · Durning the relationship, Lloyd would be the sweetest boyfriend even though he has no clue what he's doing. He wants to give you the world, but has no idea how to do that. 

 · He's also not the best with PDA. He's never received much as a kid, so he gets a bit jumpy when someone hugs him by surprise or when he holds someone for a certain amount of time.

 · Comic store dates>>>

 · He has no idea how to plan a date, so he normally asks if you want to go to the comic book store with him and you'll go from there.

 · One time a date ended with you both getting ice cream and taking a walk around the beach docks. Wanting to take a peaceful selfie of you and him and a sudden seagull came and snatched his ice cream right out of his cone, hitting him in the face.

 · You now have a photo of a burry Lloyd losing a fight to a seagull while your in the back scared but laughing at the same time. 

 · You taught Lloyd how to ride a bike. When he was still younger you noticed how little he knew about riding a bike, so when he grew you were able to show him and he got a little bit embarrassed when the guys found out.

 · When you both sleep, Lloyd's normally the first to wake up but he's  g r u m p y !!! 

 · He wakes up because of training and because of that he's kinda forgotten how to sleep in in the mornings. Hence why's he's so tired in the mornings and sometimes afternoons? 

 · He's also nervous to cuddle you while you sleep, but it's cute when they guys catch him snuggling into him like a cat in the mornings. He tends to cuddle into you during your and his sleep, it's so cute to catch. 

 · Did I mention he's a cat person? Lol

 · Run your fingers through his hair, tell him he's worth it, just make him feel proud of himself and he'll be wrapped around your finger just like that.

 · He's willing to do anything for you, do the same for him!

 · Non-stop kisses. Whenever he sees you you better be ready to be bombarded by kisses to the lips, cheeks, nose, and even forehead from the Lightning Ninja!

 · He likes to sneak up behind you and give you surprise kisses on the cheek. He loves seeing the way you jump forward when he scares you and when he sees that blush that forms on your face? He's gonna 'awe' at it and poke your cheek.

 · He was the first one to confess to you. It was actually not planned out even though he did plan it out with the help from Kai and Cole, but of course, it backfired during a 'date' Kai and Cole made up for the two of you.

 · He ended up blurbing it out all in one breath-

  · "Y/NITHINKYOURTHEMOSTAMAZINGPERSONINTHEWORLDANDIDONTKNOWWHATIWOULDOIFINNEVERMETYOU!YOURTHEBESTPERSONIHAVEEVERMETANDIWANTEDTOTELLYOUILOVEDYOUFORSOLONGBUTIDIDN'TKNOWIFYOUFELTTHESAMEFORME!SOIUNDERSTANDIFYOU-"

 · You shut him by placing a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling away, and giving him the sweetest of smiles. "I love you too, JJ." 

 · The amount of confidence he's got now because of that moment>>

 · Kai got a bit jealous when he was told Jay was able to get himself a lover before him, and Jay took advantage of that always giving you a quick kiss on the lips when Kai walks by, wrapping an arm around your waist during movie night and seeing the angry look Kai gave him. 

 · Jay never felt more pleased- PFT

 · Kai soon found Skylor and his jealousy was soon gone. 

· Dates happen more often than you think. He takes you to the movies, gets some food, but he's sometimes broke and only has enough for take-out and you both sit in your room in your apartment and watch some Netflix. 

 · You both like to help PIXAL repair some of the vehicles. The Bounty is the main vehicle you repair. The Super Sonic Radar is also one of them and Jay adores the time you both have while PIXAL'S basically third-wheeling. 

 · If you go to school, Jay loves to walk with you. He'll offer to carry your bags, books, heck he even offered to carry you! 

 · When you make it to school, Jay acts like it's the last time he'll ever see you again.

 · 'Do you haaave to go? I'll be alone allll day without your cuddles." 

 · He gave you the cutest of puppy dog eyes, but you tried to endure it and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "I'll be back later, Jay. Don't get your bolts in a knot!"

 · You came back and he tackles you, every daywhen you come home it's adorable.

 · His favorite place to kiss you has got to be your nose. The way it scrunches up is so cute he can kiss it all day. His hands are on your cheeks, but they're sometimes also in your hair or hands. 

 · He's a cuddle bug, if you haven't already known, he can hug you all day and he will! One morning he refused to remove himself from your touch, so he rolled onto your back and you struggled to stand up...but once you did you basically gave him a piggyback ride until it was time to train. 

 · For breakfast he just chewed on a piece of buttered toast and Zane was not pleased. He told Jay to eat a proper breakfast but Jay was too into the toast and your warm touch to listen to the Nindroid. 

 · Speaking of mornings, Jay takes up almost the entire bed it's so hard to share one with him, but you're able to somehow get some room, but his hand is smacking you in the face and his legs are tangled with yours. Thank god you are used to it.

 · When he wakes up there's drool on the sheets but he just wipes it down with his hands and turns back onto his back where he accidentally pushes you off the bed now he's awake when he hears a loud thud and you standing up with a scream causing him to scream.

 · You rarely cuddle in the morning because one Jay pushed you out of bed and two you're both wide awake. 

 · He uses such dorky nicknames like, what??

 · " Hey Cutie Patootie!  "Snuggle Muffin"   

       ( or if your a boy )

 · "Mister Man"  "Baby Boy"

 · He's cringe but that's okay 

[armysantiny]

Straight from where? – Sylus

P: Sylus x female reader | G: fluff, oneshot | Inc: mc!reader, those dreadful dark romance booktok books, office work, Mephisto being a glorified camera, a domestic morning, Sylus being compared to those shitty booktok male reads, mentioned Tara, mentioned Luka and Keiran, small mention of blood on Sylus| Wc: 1.9k | W: mentions of blood | R: G

Summary: After work, y/n’s gifted a few…interesting romance novels from a colleague at work, under the premise that Skye is just like the male love interests. The white hair, red eyes and slick motorbike? A perfect match, if Sylus actually was like the men in those dark romance books. Except he’s not, and the man in question is just as mortified to learn what y/n’s colleagues think he would do to her.

Min's notes: Remember when Sylus was intially released and people started wrongfully comparing him to those really shit male leads?? Yeah so do I which is why I wrote this out of spite. I started writing this a while ago, but it got sidetracked for my Wooyoung fic. Anyway~ enjoy almost 2k words of Sylus not being a shitty dark romance stereotype

It’s the sound of several books hitting her desk at the end of a gruelling workday that brings y/n out of her focus, fingers coming to a pause on the desktop’s keyboard. There are still the mission reports on her screen that need to be filled out, yet the new additions to her desk and her coworker’s eager expression spark curiosity. Taking a quick break to indulge in said sparked curiosities, as per a certain crow’s encouragement, shouldn’t be too bad. She’s been at this for hours anyway, safe to say she’s earned it.

So, she bites.

“What are these?” Y/n chuckles, then takes a proper look at the titles. “Romance…novels?” It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate a good book, but the titles she’s looking at are…fascinating, to say the least.

“Mhm! After Skye accompanied us on our outing last time, and since he’s been here to pick you up a few times, I figured I’d lend these for you to read!” Her fellow hunter answers, al bright-eyed and genuine. They go on a little longer, comparing Sylus—Skye, as far as her coworkers know—to the kind of dark romance male leads that are going viral online. A Zade Meadows kind of man, is the consensus y/n gets once her coworker is done explaining and bids her a good night before getting ready to head home themselves.

And while Sylus is… the way that he is, y/n’s having a hard time believing the very same leader of Onychinus would be capable of doing any of the things she’s heard these male leads do. To other people, sure, y/n’s seen Sylus exert his authority in a myriad of violent ways, but the Sylus Qin she knows is a man weak to her affections, amongst other things.

“Thanks for letting me read them,” she chooses to say after a beat, “I’ll try and get him to read them with me. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the comparison.” Moments after her coworker heads out of the office and is out of earshot, y/n snorts a laugh behind her palm.

As if he’d appreciate it. Which is exactly why y/n plans on taking these books with her to Sylus’ house—castle—tonight.

Driving into the N109 Zone after a long day, a long week in fact, is comforting, the never-ending darkness surrounding y/n as she rides her bike to her destination. The broach is fastened to her coat, a silent badge of protection in the place where shadows exist even in the dark. But it’s not long until she arrives outside the front door of her home away from home, and the home of her favourite crow.

“Pretty bird..?” Y/n calls out, helmet tucked under arm as she wanders around the oddly quiet walls of Sylus’ home. Sure, her bike is parked out front, and the hunter very clearly recalls hearing distinct caws as she left work, but the sprawling expanse of a home is pin-drop silent. Even by N109 standards, it’s quiet. Slipping her shoes off in favour of comfortable slippers, y/n continues her search, her helmet discarded on a side-cabinet.

An endless swath of doors, that’s what y/n decides Sylus’ home is after she opens the nth door to no success. Just where is this man?

Familiar hands wrap around her waist.

“Hello, sweetie.” Sylus smiles, cradling his hunter close against his chest. There are traces of blood on his clothes, a smear or two across his cheek, but that doesn’t matter. Not when his y/n has come all this way to see him. What an honour he’s been bestowed. “A pretty kitten decided to come all this way just to see me. What a pleasant surprise.”

“Do you enjoy scaring the hell out of me?” Y/n complains, trailing her words off with warm laughter that he could drown himself in. “Anyway, where have you been? The house was dead silent, it was weird. Thought you weren’t doing anything today.”

“I had to take care of some… last-minute business with the twins, it kept me longer than I’d have liked.” He admits, unfurling his arms from around y/n’s delectable waist when she wriggles around to go do something. There’s a pep in her step, an excitement that Sylus knows very well means she’s up to something. Or she has something to show him. Either is good.

But there’s still the pressing matter of blood on him and his clothes.

“I’ll head into the shower, sweetie.”

Heading out of the shower a full thirty minutes later and noticeably blood-free, Sylus is met with a stack of books on his dresser as he reaches for his robe, y/n watching him from her spot on the edge of his bed. It doesn’t take long, just a couple of glances between the literature and y/n, for him to come to his conclusion.

“I didn’t know we were expanding our library,” he purrs, sneaking in a forehead kiss and bringing some of the books with his Evol. “Did you buy these? Pardon the assumption, kitten, but I know your taste and… this isn’t exactly it.”

She snickers and oh, he’s not wrong. He’s being set up, lovingly, of course.

“Well, if these aren’t your taste,” he says, “enlighten me with your plans, since we’re evidently going to be reading these for the next few days.”

And, well. The next few days are interesting, to say the least.

He peruses the novels in between meetings, digesting chapter after somewhat delusional chapter, disbelief nearly a permanent expression on his face each time one of these novels are in his hands. How anyone finds any of this… literature, something of actual substance is a mystery and the sooner he can give these sorry excuses for published books back to y/n to return to her colleague, the better. Everything about the ‘romance’ stories he’s been reading leaves a rotten taste in his mouth, worsened further by the fact that this is how y/n’s colleagues think Sylus treats his beloved.

All accusations that couldn’t be further from the truth. Frankly, he’s a little insulted.

He should go and correct this mistake.

“Boss! We’ve got a lead on the group peddling fraudulent weapons out of the old warehouse!” Kieran announces, Luke already heading off to the armoury to gear up. “Shall we get the jump on them?”

So much for seeing his pretty hunter tonight. He’ll just have Mephisto watch her instead.

Just what is so good about these anyway? It’s the only thing that’s been on y/n’s mind all night, tucked in bed with one of the dark romance novels out of the set she’d given to Sylus. A flask of jasmine tea sits on her bedside drawer, the drink and her several plushies around her bed much more interesting than the book in her hand.

If she’s having such a hard time right now, sure her favourite crow isn’t faring any better. She can almost see it now; the displeased hum, his lips curled into a frown and the distinct furrow of his brows.

And of course, the only thing better than thinking about a grumbling Sylus, is to see it in person. Obviously.

Humming along to her playlist early on in the morning as she goes about preparing breakfast, y/n startles at the knock on her door. It’s god-awfully early today, ruling out anyone she could think of off the top of her head. Her hunting partner doesn’t get up for a few more hours at the very least, and there’s no delivery to pick up��

“Morning to you too, sweetie. Off to work?” Sylus grins as she opens the front door, bending down to greet her and with a familiar looking stack of books tucked away under his arm. “Why don’t I drop you off? You can take these back with you as well.”

“How did you know I had to get to work early today?” Y/n certainly doesn’t remember texting Sylus anything other than good morning and a series of happy crow emojis, so she watches him step inside and look towards her balcony. Locking the door behind her before following his line of sight, y/n deadpans.

The crow is there. What a surprise.

“So, would you like that lift to work, kitten?”

Sylus’ motorcycle comes to a stop outside the doors of the Hunter’s Association, the hum of the engine replaced by a fresh dawn breeze as y/n removes her helmet. Her bag is several times heavier, courtesy of Sylus’ effective persuasion during breakfast. Persuasion she couldn’t exactly say no to.

“Sweetie, you can’t possibly believe any of this is good reading material,” Sylus groans, leaning against y/n’s kitchen counter while she eats breakfast. It’s probably the most offended she’s seen him in a while, and out of everything that could annoy Sylus this much, it’s the borrowed book in his hand. “This is frankly a waste of paper and the publisher’s expertise, who allowed this to be released to the public?”

Trying not to laugh through a mouthful of food is proving quite the challenge.

“Some really stubborn people, I imagine. Safe to say you don’t agree with the author’s version, then?” Y/n replies, finishing the rest of her breakfast, pure satisfaction on her face at Sylus’ indignant grumblings. It certainly makes up for Mephisto watching her from the balcony like a glorified spy camera. “Here I was think you didn’t care much for romance. Silly me~”

“The only silly thing here, sweetheart,” his voice echoes out, in time with large, warm hands wrapping around y/n’s waist. “Is the ridiculous notion your colleagues have that I’d be anything like the bastards in those books. Where did that idea come from, hm?”

Surely he’s just messing with her.

“You know exactly why, c’mon.”

“No, enlighten me.”

Her desk is just as tidy as it was when she left it, except for a croissant and her favourite morning coffee from Tara. Setting herself up doesn’t take too long, and all y/n’s left with are the books she needs to return. Books she’d rather never have to look at or read again, thanks very much. Though, there’s nothing she can do about it just yet, when the book’s owner has yet to show up.

With remarkably little callouts, there’s nothing much else for y/n to do but catch up on her remaining reports. Her hands fly across the keyboard, filling out line after line with practically no interruption.

“Y/n!” The same voice from last time calls out, breaking her out of her concentration as her colleague bounds over with enthusiasm. “How were those books I lent you? Any good?”

…is there a polite way to say absolutely horrifying and utterly dreadful?

“Definitely pretty interesting,” Y/n nods, pushing her chair away from her desk to reach for her bag. Might as well return the affronts to literature to their proper owner while she’s at it. “Skye had a read of a few as well, don’t think he’ll be reading anymore now.”

The books exchange hands, finally out of her possession, and y/n’s phone buzzes. Of course it does. Of course he’s watching.

Pretty Bird: Finally, took you long enough sweetie. Good riddance [12:54]

Pretty Bird: Let’s agree to never punish our eyes with that garbage ever again. Deal? [12:54]

Miss Hunter: As long as you agree to pick me up after work, Sy [12:56]

Pretty Bird: Then I guess we have a deal. See you after work, my love [13:00]

© copyright work of armysantiny 2025-2026

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @freakywonbin | Taglist Form

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR ELEVEN

in which a line is crossed, and a lie is told.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, fingering, oral (m receiving, allusions to f receiving), p in v (be like eddie and r! use protection!), use of mean nicknames (slut), ass slapping, hair pulling, minors dni

→ wc: 7.5k+

→ a/n: the smut has arrived! shout out to @abibliophobiaa and @myosotisa my loves for helping me, but also horny hours in general haha. the pep talks were very much needed and very appreciated.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

11:00 ──────ㅇ─────────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

A drink. What you need is a drink. 

The moment Robin and Steve brought up the small get together, you’d agreed instinctually. It had been a long month, hard and full of life throwing unexpected punches your way, and the only way you could think to soothe it was with terrible mixed drinks in your friend’s kitchen. 

First, it had been the tire on your bike popping. Which in itself wasn’t a catastrophe, but you realized very quickly that going out and about around campus was nearly impossible on foot. You’d shown up to most classes late, not adjusting for the fact you were far slower when walking across campus than you were riding. And then it was your classes; the teachers were already upset as it was in your smaller classes regarding your perpetual tardiness, but to top it all off, every assignment seemed to not be enough. No matter what you submitted, what changes you made to essays sent back to you, it was becoming more impossible to maintain a resemblance of a respectable GPA. You’d nearly flunked a test in your humanities class, when you’d asked for a professor to go back a slide for notes they’d glared and refused the reasonable request. When you’d not understood a question on your literature homework and sent an email plenty of days in advance, the teacher only got back to you once the due date had passed. 

And the dates. The terrible, terrible dates of the month. 

There was the first guy, who had been kind enough. A simple meeting over coffee and by the time the lattes were cold, you knew there’d be no second date. That was fine. You could live with that.

The second guy had more potential. A first date in a bar was almost a red flag, but after a fun game of pool, you’d agreed to meet again. The second date was at a restaurant that you learned he’d taken his ex-girlfriend to; actually, you’d learned a bit too much about his ex-girlfriend that night. She was the only thing he could talk about, and when you’d later explained that over text for being your reason against a third date, he’d called you every crude name in the book. 

And the final guy. A guy you’d really liked, that you’d been messaging back and forth since a month before. He was a busy guy, a bartender and full time student, and you understood – you really did. But he was charismatic and lured you in over the phone, and you hadn’t been so giddy for a date in a while. It felt like there were sparks, like he might be the one.

He didn’t show up. Last night, you’d sat like a fool at the restaurant you two agreed upon for two hours before realizing he wasn’t showing. Sipped your way through two ciders, even picked on an appetizer of fries, telling yourself he’d show up. He was just busy. He’d show up. 

He never showed up. He didn’t even text you. The waiter had waived your bill for the night, but his look of pity only made your stomach twist worse. 

Pathetic. You felt pathetic. 

“We’re all getting together at my place tonight,” Steve had whispered to you during class that morning as you two were packing up things as the lecture ended, “Everyone’s just going to hang out, drink, let loose. You should come.” 

And so you came, overly optimistic about the entire idea. You didn’t even think to ask if Eddie was going to be here – even he couldn’t dampen your excitement at a break after the month you’d had, even with his recent mean streak. 

Mean. You’d never thought after that first night you’d be able to describe him that way. Cold, sure. Callous, perhaps. Indifferent, of course. But mean? Mean didn’t seem like something others saw Eddie as genuinely capable of. Steve always ranted about how good of a guy he was, Robin would tell fun stories of nights out with him and how much of a good time he was, Nancy considered the guy her best friend. You knew your new friends, and you didn’t take them as being the type to befriend someone so unkind. 

But you didn’t see the good guy, the fun guy, the best friend. Whenever Eddie Munson was around you, his guard was up and his words were sharp. They cut through your unbridled disappointment with ease, reminding you that you were not his friend. You weren’t even sure if you were an acquaintance. 

And sure, you took it too far at the diner. You could admit that, even before Robin scolded you. But to see him sitting with someone not from your friend group, to see him being so kind and endearing to someone new, had burned you with fury like no other. If he could treat some blonde he’d surely matched with on a dating app so sweetly, why couldn’t he afford you the same warmth? Someone he saw nearly weekly? 

So you went for blood. Except, you were the only one wounded in the end, after the silent treatment you’d had to endure as you watched Eddie clench his jaw and pretend you didn’t exist. 

“What are you drinking tonight?” Steve smiles when you enter his kitchen, brows still furrowed in careful thought over your miserable month, “I’m guessing something strong?” 

“The strongest thing you’ve got, Harrington,” you reply, trying to shake back into excitement. It was going to be fun. You were going to drink with friends, partake in silly conversations no one would remember come morning, and you were going to have fun. 

Steve holds up a bottle of vodka, a name brand you don’t care to acknowledge, along with a 2-liter of Coke, “Think this’ll work?” 

You nod, and he pours. When he hands you the crystal cup reeking of overpoured alcohol, you take a sip and nod. 

Oh, yeah. Two of these and I won’t even remember Mr. Stood-Me-Up. 

“I heard about your date,” Steve means well, but the reminder is the exact opposite of what you want. You’re quick to glare at Robin, who throws her hands up in defense. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you quip, taking a larger second sip. If you weren’t trying to pace yourself, you’d probably chug the entire thing, “Not much to talk about, anyways. Got some free food and alcohol out of it, at least.” 

“That’s good! I bet you dodged a bullet.”

I probably didn’t. “We can only hope.” 

Steve pours himself a drink as well as Robin, and you can hear Nancy and Jonathan already chattering in the living room. No sign of Eddie so far. Maybe he wasn’t coming, and you’d finally caught a break. 

“To forgetting the names of men who suck,” Steve chides as he raises his glass, and Robin mirrors him. You hesitate for a moment, a fraction of a second.

You were starting to believe it wasn’t them, it was you. You were the common denominator of all the terrible dates. Did sparks not fly with the Coffee Boy because you dampened the fuse? Was two-date-chump only talking to you about his exes because you didn’t provide anything interesting enough to take his mind off them? Surely, it had to be your fault that you were stood up the night before. Surely. 

You pull from your pity party, and nimbly raise your glass. The rim hardly brushes that of your friends’ cups, but you all throw back your poisons of choice regardless. They don’t seem to notice the way you’ve begun to float within your head, the way you’re crashing through violent waves of pathetic self-hatred. 

It was you. You’re the problem, and you’re the only one who can solve it. Eventually. 

Robin is dramatically gagging on what you think might be redbull and vodka as Steve silently grimaces at his straight whiskey, clearing his throat before he says, “Okay, I know you don’t want to talk about last night, but Robin mentioned you’ve had a few dates this last month. Anything worth sharing? Any luck?” 

There’s a snappy remark of clearly not on the tip of your tongue when the doorbell rings down the hall, and the three of you all turn your heads as Nancy calls out that she’s got it. 

—

HOUR ELEVEN - 2:00 AM

Once Eddie starts kissing you, he can’t stop. 

It isn’t soft, nor caring – the moment his hands meet the flesh of your hips, it’s bruising. He doesn’t even break for air as he fumbles with the knob blindly, giving a final twist of his keys before the door swings open behind you and the two of you stumble backwards into the sanctuary of his apartment. It’s all teeth, it’s all desperation, it’s the accumulation of a year of snide remarks and low-blow insults all coming to head as he kicks the door shut behind you and spins so that your back meets the wood. 

Your hands are tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck and– oh God, when did you reach up and grab at his hair in the first place? 

He groans at the force of your fist, and it suddenly doesn’t matter. You don’t care how they got there – you only care to keep them there. 

He finally breaks the kiss, spit trailing between your lips as you both gasp out breaths, “You-” he dives back in, capturing your lips between his in a harsh and quick action before another break, “fucking-” another break, another gasp. He remains close enough that each harsh exhale flows right into your mouth, down your throat and into your lungs, “infuriate-” this time, he pauses, not moving back in for another kiss as his forehead is pressed hard against yours, eyes wide open and boring into yours, “me.” 

The venom that laces the words don’t scare you. It’s all verbal aposematism, rehearsed and practiced hatred that bears no weight, not anymore. Not as his hips are digging into yours and another tug of his hair has him putty in your hands. 

You know the dance well. You know the next step. 

“Good.” 

His next kiss is even more vicious, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and making you whine into him, one hand finally unraveling from his curls to find purchase in fisting the leather of his jacket. There’s a fine line that neither of you are daring to cross, only toeing as teeth and tongues clash. 

This time, when he pulls away, you’re the one chasing after him. You don’t care about breathing; you care about his lips on yours, sucking all the smoke and oxygen from your lungs. 

 He’s the one to finally cross the line. A hand comes up to your throat, not nearly as rough as it should be, as he keeps you in place with the back of your head pressed to his front door. A pleading mewl leaves your lips of its own accord.

 “Oh, sweetheart, don’t be so desperate.”

The line’s been crossed, the chords all snapping between you two. There are no invisible strings tying you to the man before you, the man that has you aching between your trembling thighs and erratic breaths. Only gravity.

“Me? Desperate?” your voice nearly fails you as you lean into his touch surrounding your throat, preening forward so that your lips brush his, “I’m not the one fucking off to porn magazines that look like you, pretty boy.” 

You’re both on the same side of the line now as you watch his eyes darken. It’s a sensitive topic, a bruise you’ve chosen to prod out in the hopes that he’ll break at the same alarming rate as you. 

You need him to fuck you. You need him to use you, to throw any caution or revelations to the wind. You want him to push you so far you can’t remember your own name, let alone all the emotions that travel the channels between you. 

“Think you can do any better than my hand, baby?” he questions as he buries his head into the crook of your shoulder, breath and lips leaving a buzz along the skin he comes in contact with. His fingers tighten ever so slightly, and your head rushes with a weightless bliss. 

Your pulse is against his thumb, drumming beneath the pressure of it as you reply, “Do you think you can do any better than mine?” 

A dozen insinuations layer the words, and he catches every single one. Your lashes flutter into your eyesight, lids growing heavy as he lifts his face from your shoulder and looks at you wickedly, grin spreading treacherously. 

“Are you trying to tell me you touch yourself to me?” he taunts, pressing closer, “You thinkin’ of me at night when you get lonely, all desperate and pathetic, wrapped up in your own sheets? Do you wish it was my fingers, and not yours?” 

Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. “In your dreams, Munson.” 

“Of course,” he chuckles, “I thought that was a given. Don’t tell me you’re so dumb you’ve figured out I get myself off to your lookalikes, but not that I dream about you, sweetheart.” 

The thought of it makes your stomach flutter, your thighs clench. He’s quick to shove his knee between your legs, letting you drop so that your crotch nearly brushes his thigh. But the distance remains and no relief from friction comes, he makes sure of it as his fingers finally lift slightly, letting the blood rush back to your head and into your cheeks. 

“Is that what you were thinking about in the bathroom?” 

His movements finally falter. You almost have the upperhand again, you almost have him back in your palms, back down to your height in cockiness. 

You take his silence in stride, a smirk gracing your own face, “Oh, you were, weren’t you?” you pause, and drop a hand to his torso, nails raking over his shirt and making him suck in a sharp breath, “You thought I wouldn’t hear? You were being so awfully loud, y’know. Surprised you didn’t say my name.”

He breathes back to life, hand unwrapping from your throat to grip your chin, his thumb just barely making contact with your bottom lip as he tugs softly, “You would have fuckin’ liked that, wouldn’t you? As if I didn’t feel you get so hot and bothered by me on the bike,” it’s your turn to freeze, realizing your fears were valid, and he laughs lowly, “Oh, yeah, baby. I felt that. Hard to miss when you were clinging to me like I was your goddamn savior. What were you thinking about, hm? I bet you were thinkin’ about just that – me moaning for you, cumming for you. I bet it drove you fucking crazy, didn’t it?” 

“What were you thinking about in the bathroom?” you whisper as his thumb presses harder into your lip, “Show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” 

Your hand finally drops to its destination, cupping him through his sweatpants, wrapping around his girth. 

He’s big. Bigger than you had expected, and he knows you’re shocked by the way you still once more, cocking his head at you with the utmost confidence. 

He’s fucking lucky to be packing. It’d be a shame to be such an asshole and not have the ability to back up all his talk. 

“You want me to be honest right now?” he asks, a thread of seriousness binding his words. You don’t hesitate to nod, even with his grip on your chin, “I was thinking about your mouth. Thinking about those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. I was thinking about you on your knees and those eyes looking up at me, all teary as I fucked your mouth.” 

Your grip on him tightens, and you make the daring move to suck the tip of his thumb into your mouth, making eye contact as your tongue swirls around it. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, throwing his head back, his grip immediately falling slack on your face. You see the opportunity and take it, surging forward to latch your lips onto his exposed neck. You start with light kisses, pressing them in rapid succession down the vein that lays poorly hidden by the stretched skin, pausing once you get closer to where the expanse meets his jaw.

“I’m trying to,” you taunt before sucking hard. 

He moans loudly, echoing off the walls of his apartment, the hand still on your waist turning into an even more impossibly tight grip. The hand that once held your face has come up to tangle in your hair, gripping you by the roots and pulling you away just as the blood vessels on the surface have burst and bloomed in full shades of red and pink. 

Your scalp burns as he pulls you to be face to face with him, eyes hard as you keep your hand on his clothed dick. You can feel him twitch as your palm at him, no longer caring about being desperate. You were desperate. You wanted him to give up the game, set aside the chase, and ruin you. You wanted his neighbors to hear as you chanted his name like a prayer, as every memory of every reason as to why you resented him fled your system with each thrust of his hips that could pin you to the wall. 

“Is that what you want?” he’s no longer teasing you, his tone sounding as if he were asking for permission now rather than taunting you any further, “You want me to ruin you, sweetheart?” 

The chase is nearing its end, and you nearly shatter with anticipation. 

With one last trick up your sleeve, one last attempt to break him, you shrug as if you aren’t flushed and terribly flustered to the point of no return, “I guess. That’s one way to pass the time.” 

When he breaks, it is sudden, and it is unkind. One moment, your break is aching from being pressed against wood, and your core is throbbing as you consider dropping to his thigh to find your own relief. The next, he’s throwing you around carelessly as his mouth slots to yours once more. 

Just as it doesn’t matter how your hands found their way into his hair, it doesn’t matter how he pulls you from the door and navigates you to his couch. Your mind isn’t focused on where your body ends up, it’s focused on the feeling of his lips, chapped and pressing to yours eagerly. It’s focused on the way that the weight of his hands pressed tightly to your lower back feels. It’s focused on the overwhelming spice of his cologne, the smell of the night air still clinging to his cheek, the taste of his salt water as you dive under and let yourself begin to drown. 

He’s consuming you, lungs and all. Limbs and all. Mind and all. 

It’s a bad decision. This is going to be both of your downfalls, and you should stop before it goes too far.

You don’t stop it. Neither does he. All he does is throw you down to sit on his couch as he falls to his knees in front of you, bringing a palm to each knee and spreading your legs as he settles between them.

He’s the prettiest you’ve seen him yet. Even prettier than the first night. His lips are swollen pink, puffy and still lingering with your spit. Your mark on him, the first of many you need to leave, right along with the bruise on his neck. You wonder how hard you’d have to bite to bring blood tonight, you wonder which other spots on his neck would make him melt against you as you explored him fervently and left a whole collection of bruises that spell out your message very clearly – he’s mine for tonight.

His chest heaves as his eyes stare up into yours, hands gripping each of your knees. Even through the cotton, your skin is burning from his touch, your wildfire still thriving as you navigate this ocean he’s thrown the two of you into. A man-made river, more like it. It was made by his hand, it was created treacherously and with purpose against you, and yet you’re still here wading in it, also by his hand. 

“Tell me to stop,” he begs, unexpected as his hands squeeze you, his eyes zeroing in on his palms as they travel up to your thighs, pulling you closer and making your back slide down the cushion from the position you’re seated in, “Tell me you hate me.” 

For a second, you almost tell him you can’t. You can’t tell him to stop. Not as your leg lifts and his shoulder fits perfectly into the ditch of your knee, not as his hands creep further up to the band of the borrowed sweatpants. And once his fingers curl into the waist, knuckles pressing to your soft skin, you know you won’t. 

“Don’t stop,” you whisper, making his eyes shoot up to meet yours again, “I hate you, but don’t you fucking dare stop.” 

Quickly, at an almost impossible rate of speed, he yanks the sweats down off of you. They’re tossed behind him into a pile on his living room floor, uncared for and quickly forgotten. 

Once your skin is exposed to him, he’s planting messy kisses linearly up your shin, over your inner knee, until he reaches your thighs. Marks are left in his wake, shades of deep maroon fading lilac as he nips and sucks against them just as you had to his neck. 

“Show me yours,” he mumbles into your skin, fingertips pressing indents as he openly mouths over the hickies left behind. 

“What?”

“I showed you mine, now show me yours,” he insists with wild eyes, hair hardly contained by the bun that once contained the curls, “When you touch yourself, what do you think about?” 

“You,” you sigh out as he presses another kiss to you, even higher up now, growing dangerously close to your cunt. 

“What about me?” he pushes, staring up as he removes contact, “Use your words, baby.” 

“I-” you can’t think clearly, mind muddled with smoke and the image of him there before you, on his knees, “I think about your fingers instead of mine. How thick they are, how they’d feel.” 

His smile shows little satiation, “Go on.”

You’re so focused on getting the words out, you nearly don’t notice a hand loosening its grip on your thigh, inching up to your panties, playing with the lace edges. 

“I think about how deep you’d go, how you’d curl your fingers just- fuck,” you cut off with a gasp when his fingers slide beneath cotton, brushing over your wet folds. 

“Just fuck?” he mimics, pouting slightly, “Afraid I’ve never heard that one before. Might need you to demonstrate for me. How do I curl my fingers just fuck?” 

“Fuck you,” you whine, writhing beneath his touch as your ankles lock behind his head. 

“I’m trying to,” he pitches his voice to mock your own, and you regret ever saying the words to him. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head, “God, you want me to fuck you so bad, it’s making you stupid.” 

His fingers stop teasing you as he finds your entrance, circling only the tip of his pointer finger to gather the slickness. Your hips buck, the desperation clawing its way through your entire body now, leaving ash and destruction in its path before Eddie brings an arm across your waist to hold you down to the couch firmly. 

“Beg for it,” he commands, voice shooting straight into your chest, “Be a good girl and say please, yeah?” 

His finger still circles your entrance, teasing but never quite pressing in, leaving you a whimpering mess. You begin to wonder if there will be any sign of how hard his forearm is pinned against you. 

A battle of both your prides. He can feel you burning up now, he sees the flames dancing and he’s willing to play with them rather than give in to you. 

You have to bite your lip to avoid letting the please on the tip of your tongue slip out for him. You’re still fighting him, still defying him. 

“I have been far nicer to you than you deserve,” he continues his taunts, a grin growing when he catches the way you’re physically holding back, “We both know it, so just say it. Say the word, and I’ll keep playing nice.” 

His finger breeches your entrance slightly, and you gasp, head thrown back immediately, “When have you ever been nice?” 

He tsks, removing the tip of his finger, letting it glide up between your folds before it stops just short of your clit, “Oh, I’m always nice. You just never seem to notice.” 

You think about it again. All the acts of kindness that went under the radar, all the times you’d buried in an effort to continue to harbor detestation for the man before you. He’s right – he probably doesn’t realize it, but he’s far more correct than you’d give him credit for at this moment. 

“Please fuck me,” you whisper to the ceiling, before swallowing hard and leaning your chin back down, looking him in his eyes as you decide to give him more than he asked for, “Please ruin me.” 

You’ve watched a mirage of emotions flush across his face on every possible occasion. Anger, distaste, aggression, laughter, annoyance. But you’ve never seen want quite like this grace his features. 

“Gladly.” 

His fingertip circles your clit, once, twice, three times, applying the perfect amount of pressure to have you crying out before he’s removing his forearm and nearly tearing your underwear to move it to the side and thrusting two fingers into your desperate cunt immediately. 

You sob out and nearly double over, the sting and stretch making you keen as he wastes no time. You’ve said the magic word, you’ve played his game, and now, he’s returning the favor. 

He’s playing nice. And, God, is nice quite the word to describe what he’s doing to you as he pumps his fingers into you, thrusting them in as deep as his knuckles allow before he curls them and brushes the spot that could make you scream with the right skill set.

He has the skill set. He notes your clenching on his fingers, and he curls again, with more intent this time. 

Maybe the thin walls only apply to the inside of his apartment, if you’re lucky. 

“Is this what you want?” he questions, leaning in so close to you that you feel his breath wash over you, “Is this what you meant by ruining you?” 

You nod, finding it becoming increasingly harder to speak as you gasp, “Y- Oh, fuck. Yes. Ple- fuck. Please.” 

He pauses, and you nearly scream out in frustration and protest before he rips your underwear off of you, dragging it down your legs and forcing your ankle to unlock from behind his head as he fights with the flimsy piece of cotton. You expect him to throw it, to let it join the sweats, but instead, he brings them to his face. He’s wolfish as he looks up at you, taking a deep breath in with the cotton pressed to his nose, not saying a word but watching you clench around nothing as he finally tosses the panties over his shoulder.

You see them catch on the coffee table, nowhere near the sweats. 

“Smell so sweet, baby,” he coos, bringing his fingers back to you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips, “I might just have to tast-” 

A phone ringing cuts him off. The trill cuts through the silence, piercing both your ears, making you look at each other in fright. 

“Don’t answer it,” the words burst out before you think them over. You don’t care about your friends right now. You don’t care about the bet.

You care about his fingers back inside you, curling and hitting that spot you’ve spent endless nights fighting to find without success. You care about getting his clothes off of him, of your eyes tracing over his skin and the ink you’ve yet to see. You care about his cock, springing to attention, before he’s sheathing it inside of you and bringing you both to utter bliss. 

A phone call is at the bottom of your priorities right now. You just don’t care. 

“It’s your phone,” he counters, glancing behind the two of you to where your phone is buried in the heap of black clothing, “I’m not answering it. But…”

“I’m not answering it, either.” 

“If we don’t answer-”

“Eddie, I could fucking care less,” you sit up roughly, leaning in as close as you can in the compromising position, “We’re not answering it.”

The phone continues to ring, and he looks between you and it in clear confusion, “They’ll just keep calling-”

“Let them,” you insist, “If you don’t get your dick in me within the next minute, I’ll call this entire thing off,” you add on the last part as you reach out and your legs fall off his shoulders, hands replacing where your knees once rested as you bring his lips into yours. 

Teeth, tongue, salt water, ash. It drowns out the final few rings as you continue to tug on Eddie feverishly, forcing him to rise from his position on the ground and kneel on the edge of the couch, a hand balancing him upright by gripping the back of the couch. Your kiss is all the convincing he needs. 

“Fuck, fine, fine, I-” he cuts off, removing himself from you long enough to shrug off his leather jacket, to reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it over his head. The bun has officially unraveled to completion, curls flowing down over his collarbones and shoulders. You can’t keep your hands off him, fingertips immediately pressing into the exposed skin, “Just give me a second.” 

He stands, and you whine, making him snicker as he kicks off the grey sweatpants.

“So impatient,” he teases, and you watch his face light up in delight as you can only bite your tongue in response. There’s something more there, something to be considered later. Later, when you aren’t aching for him. Later, when the moment of desperation has passed, when his waves retreat from your shores and you find yourself capable of breathing fresh air once more. 

Later is not now.

The moment he’s down to just his boxers, you’re done waiting, doing as he had for you and dropping your knees to the carpet below. 

“Hey, what are you doin-” he’s interrupted by you leaning forward, looking up at him intently as you kiss the tip of his dick through his boxers. Your lips come in contact with the wet spot clearly forming, and you can see the shiver roll down his spine, “Oh, fuck. What the Hell happened to me… me getting… me getting my dick in you…” He’s trailing off, unable to focus as your fingers slip beneath the waistband and tug down, his dick slapping against his exposed stomach.

“It still counts if you fuck my mouth,” is all you say as his boxers pool at his ankles, and you don’t even wait for him to step out of them. 

Your phone is ringing again. You can feel the vibrations through the floor as you wrap a hand around his base, as you lean forward and place a proper kiss to his leaking tip, swirling your tongue in the precum. 

This time, the two of you don’t argue about answering it. It’s hard to as your mouth is full of him, and his is full of curses.

“Jesus Christ, I- Fuck, right there,” he’s gasping as you wrap your lips around the tip fully, just as you’d done with his thumb, sucking gently and making his hand fly down to rest on the back of your head.

You bob down a few times, hollowing your cheeks and taking him deeper and deeper until your nose presses into the coarse hairs resting at the base. You pause, letting your nose press into him as you breathe deeply, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water, just as he described, and you take pride in the way he can’t even look at you now. 

You pull back, letting him drop from your mouth, smiling widely, “Better than your hand, right?” 

“Fuck off,” his hand rest at the back of your head grips the hair there, tangling up as he shoots you a glare. 

“Say it’s better than your hand, and I’ll fuck you off,” you press, letting a hand travel to fondle his balls, pinching the skin delicately, watching his reaction roll through him like waves.

“I- Fucking obviously,” he hisses as you smile, leaning down and pressing kisses along the shaft, “God, of course your mouth is better than my fucking hand. Of course it fucking is.”

“It better be,” you goad before taking him back into your mouth. This time, you suck harder, and his grip on your hair is painful once more. 

“Shit.” 

He’s at a loss for words, devolving into guttural groans and babbling moans as you quicken your pace, determined now.

You wanted to ruin him. After a year of his bullshit, after suffering through every fight and every argument, every passive glare and every turbulent comment, you want to make them man standing over you crumble to pieces. 

Except he wasn’t just crumbling, he was shattering. Splintering apart as his hips started to thrust to meet your mouth, as you choked around him and refused to let up, resorting to stuttering inhales through your nose as you pressed your face back to his pubes, swallowing accidentally and making him nearly scream. 

“Shit. Shit- stop. I’m going to f-fucking cum, stop,” he’s pulling you off of him suddenly, gasping for breath, not letting you refuse and push him over the edge. 

You’re smug as you lean onto your heels, wiping your mouth clean of the spit that strings from your bottom lip to his red tip with the back of your hand. 

“I think I win,” you state plainly, as if you weren’t currently taking heaving breaths, desperate to catch your breath and have his hands back on you. 

“Win? Wh- It’s not a fucking competition,” he scowls, raking a hand down over his face, chest flush.

“It is, and I fucking won.”

“Yeah? You think you won, baby?”He recovers quickly, you’ll give him that. He goes from a complete mess to a force to be reckoned with in an absolute instant, stepping out of his boxers and kicking them from his warpath before he reaches down to tug you to your feet, “In that case, if this is a competition, I think I deserve a second chance.”

You open your mouth to be a smart ass, to say something cruel or something mean, but he steps back before you have the chance. 

The look of want has turned stormy, confident and eliciting. A hurricane beckoning to you as he snaps his fingers. 

“Take your fucking shirt off, and get on the couch, all fours.” 

“I-”

“Now.” 

There’s no more fires, no more oceans, and no more petty arguments left in you. You listen to him. 

You throw off the sweatshirt, his sweatshirt, as he goes to one of the tables beside the couch and opens a drawer roughly. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, unhooking your bra as well, fully naked and aware that his eyes weren’t on you yet, “You just keep fucking condoms in your living room?” 

“Who said I was looking for fucking condoms?”

“Oh, my bad. I just assumed. Should have known you were getting me naked just to go searching for fucking Narnia in your drawers.” 

You were wrong. He was looking at you, and you’re only made aware by the sharp slap across your bare ass at the comment. It makes you spin quickly, looking at him and his set jaw. 

“Couch. All fours. Now.” 

“You’re such a sore loser,” you snark, taking a few steps back, trying to ignore the way the sting on your backside has your clit throbbing. 

“You have no idea, baby,” he says without a hint of joking, looking back down into the drawer and continuing to dig as you turn away from him again. 

Despite feeling exposed, you do as you’re told – you get onto the couch on all fours as he requested, knees digging into a surprisingly soft cushion that surely hadn’t felt that way earlier in the night when you’d attempted to sleep on the piece of furniture. You don’t dare to glance back at him over your shoulder when the drawer finally slams shut, hearing his heavy breathing as he returns to you being enough to force you to shut your eyes and take in a sharp gasp. 

“Still feeling like a winner?” his voice winds around you, nearly choking you as you feel a feathering fingertip trail across your lower back. 

“Always,” you lie breathily, voice betraying you as it shakes. 

You feel the couch dip from behind you, legs spreading as Eddie fits himself between your calves, one hand latching onto your hip.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck the brat out of you.” 

Without warning, he’s lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in, taking all the breath from your lungs as you collapse down onto your elbows and your cheek brushes the cushion of the couch. 

It burns, his cock forcing you to stretch and accommodate you, filling you at an unbelievable rate. 

You knew he was fucking big, but you hadn’t considered the consequences until this moment, as he truly feels as if he’s just begun his ruining of you. 

“Fu-” the curse is lost in your throat, a small gasp as you press yourself down even further into the couch, mind swimming. 

“Oh, no,” he tuts, sounding completely unaffected until he leans down over you as he bottoms out. When he gets closer, you catch it – the hitch in his breath, the way he pauses before he can speak, “That won’t do, sweetheart.”

He brings a hand back to your throat, just as he had when you two first entered the apartment, when the fight for dominance first began. It’s more from the pressure of his forearm across your chest, but the pressure is still applied on both sides as he guides you to straighten up your body against him, making him hit new angles that have you hissing out. 

“I said on all fours, not just waving your ass in the air like some slut,” you clench around him at his words, and he chuckles breathlessly, “You like that, don’t you? You like being my fucking slut.” 

You can only moan in response as he slowly pulls back his hips, feeling every inch of him beginning to retreat from you at an agonizing pace. 

“You’re pitiful,” he groans into your ear, pressing his thumb further against your throat, cutting off the circulation for only a moment. Just long enough to send a rush to your head, “You say you hate me, say you can’t fucking stand me, but get cock drunk just from me putting it in. I’m only getting started and you’re speechless.” 

You can only continue your pathetic whimpers, reaching back to grasp onto him before he tuts once more. 

“Pathetic, baby.” 

He slams back in, letting you drop forward. This time, you keep yourself up on your hands, letting out more small gasps, all of the noises getting half stuck on your tongue. 

“But you’re winning, right?” he taunts, accentuating each word with a thrust as he begins to pick up his pace, “You’re the winner here, right?” 

You don’t answer him, nearly drooling when he reaches forward and grabs up your hair, curling it around his wrist carefully before he pulls. It hurts, it makes you clench down on him, it has you babbling out nonsense you’re completely unaware of. 

Each time he snaps his hips forward, his skin collides with yours, ricocheting off the walls around the two of you.  Your arms shake, but you stay steady, refusing to collapse beneath him and the euphoria that scathes you. 

He pulls your hair harder this time, making you arch your back into him, “Tell me you hate me.” 

You cry out, feeling him hit even deeper as his free hand forces your hips to meet every thrust. 

“Say it, baby. Tell me just how much you hate me,” he huffs out, clearly barrelling as quickly to his own release as you are, “Say you hate my guts,” another sharp thrust, and his balls slap against you, catching your clit and making your knees shake, “Say you can’t stand me. Go ahead, baby, say it.” 

“I hate you,” you weakly respond, eyes tearing up as you feel your gut twist. Your fire, your blooms, his ocean. He’s making good on his promise – he’s ruining you, and you’re reveling in the wake of it all. Embers char you from the inside out, and your brain fogs over in pleasure. 

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I m-mean it,” you gasp when he reaches around, chest pressing to your back, finger hovering over your clit, “Fuck, right there, please. I mean it. Please, please-”

“Say it again, like you really mean it this time, and I’ll let you cum.” 

He stills, deep inside you, waiting with bated breath as his chin ghosts over the back of your shoulder. You stare straight ahead. If you glance down, you’d find your hands turned to fists, his ring still glittering on your finger. 

He’s destroyed you. To unimaginable levels. You can’t comply with his request, not without becoming a liar, because it occurs to you that the man currently wrecking you is not a man you’re capable of hating. You hated the situation the two of you were in, you hated the year wasted, you hated the looming pressure of your friends awaiting a return call, you hated the words exchanged between the two of you with the intention of cutting deep. You hated many things surrounding him, but you didn’t hate him. 

At Eddie’s core, he is still the man you first met. He’s finally drowned you, dragged you to the bottom of his ocean, and you can see that now. The man that first reeled you in at the bar never left, simply shrank away, hid himself away from you for some unknown reason that you hate. The man that dazzled you, enticed you, provided you with the opportunity of safety still exists. 

“I hate you,” you grit out, fisting at the cover of the cushions, your entire body on edge. From him, from revelations, from a build of hate that had been misdirected for far too long. 

“Good,” he gasps out, mouth falling open and against your skin, teeth grazing you, “Then this changes nothing.” 

You don’t have time to ponder, or wonder why he didn’t mention the feeling being mutual. Once the words leave both of you, his finger connects with your clit, working an expert pattern that has you preening as his vigorous thrusting returns. It’s harsher than before, pain and pleasure blurring together as your scalp aches, your vines tighten, and your flames erupt. 

Your vision whites out, and you don’t hear your screams of relief as much as you feel them. Your throat is hoarse, tears leak from the corners of your eyes, and the tension vanishes from your muscles.

Your arms collapse finally, and you don’t fight the way your cheek presses against rough fabric as his hips begin to stutter, his own ecstasy flooding over him before he’s crashing with you.  

The two of you stay that way for a second, skin on skin, words lingering in the air, threatening to vanish. You don’t care – you match your breathing to his as he doesn’t pull out immediately. 

A vibrating comes from the floor amongst the shared bliss, both of you too fucked out to move to go answer the phone. The money doesn’t matter anymore, not to you. 

Everything aches. You come to realize just how rough the two of you had treated each other, pains ringing out from your throat, from your ass, from your abused cunt. Your knees are surely marked from the couch and floor alike, your scalp is screaming in relief without Eddie’s grip against it. 

You don’t regret it. You don’t regret any of it, except a singular lie.

I hate you. 

What a brilliant, foolish, laughable, bullshit attempt at a lie.

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[scarletwinterxx]

WE NEED MOREEE Taeyong dad au honestly all ur dad aus r so good liekkkk

a/n: hiiiiiiii ~ honestly i didn't think about writing more abt taeyong dad au, i loved writing the first one and how simple and cute it was. but never say never 😅 so here we areeee. thank you for liking my stories🤍🥺

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

The sight of your husband sneaking around the house to prepare for the twin's birthday. The big 7. It feels like yesterday you were inside the bathroom making Taeyong look at the pregnancy test first because you were too nervous.

As the two kids grow up, they showed more of their individuality which you and Taeyong love watching. Minseo the ever confident one, she took a liking in joining school musicals and performances. She's always been the star in your household and she shines just as bright whenever she goes. Minhyuck, on the other hand, is a big bookworm. As soon as he started to learn how to read, there wasn't a day he didn't have a book on hand. He's also very into drawing much like his dad. You have a collection of his drawings hidden away to keep forever.

If there's one thing you and your husband learned about being parents, it's that time really does fly when you have kids. One day you have to hold their head up for them and the next second they're out making their own marks in the world.

"Do you think they'll like this?" Taeyong asks, looking at the rows of balloons he got for the twins. "They'll love it"

"I got the pink scooter with purple glittery handles Minseo wanted and the orange bike Minhyuck wanted"

"Good job"

"Are we forgetting something?" "Taeyong love, what are you stressed about?" you chuckle

"I just want tomorrow to be perfect and a day they will always remember. They only turn 7 once" he pouts, recalling the days when his babies were younger. Indeed wondering where did the time go.

"Aw love, come here" you open your arms for him, stepping in your embrace and burying his head between your shoulder

"They're going to love all the gifts you give them, we taught them well to appreciate even the little things"

He picks his head up to look at you, "They're not babies anymore"

"I know, I'm sad too but more so excited about they're future. I'm excited to see them explore more, know more about themselves, grow up" you play with the ends of his hear on his neck, looking into his big eyes both your kids inherited. Thank the heavens.

"Does it make you sad, that we never had kids after the twins?" you ask him

"Of course not" he answers without missing a beat, "You, Minseo and Minhyuck are my everything. There isn't a day I felt like there something missing in me the moment I met you" the same words he told you the day you got married.

After the twins birth, it was very stressful for your body to the point you were told by your doctor it was going to be very dangerous when you decide to have another kid. Taeyong is right, the twins are enough and there isn't a day you felt like your family isn't complete. But there are moments, very few, where you wonder what it would be like if you had more kids.

"If we're blessed to have more then that's good, if we're not then that's okay too. Losing you isn't a risk I will ever take. Don't ever feel pressured about that, okay? I love you very much and this life we created together" he tells you, holding your face in his hands

"I love you too" you give him a sweet kiss, finishing the night.

The next morning, very early you get the cake ready for the twins. Waiting for them to wake up. You light up the candles when you hear voices coming down the stairs,

"Gotta keep your eyes closed okay, no peeking" Taeyong appears with one child in each arm, carrying both down the stairs. He puts them down before telling them it's okay to look, "Happy Birthday!" you and Taeyong say at the same time, the two kids immediately smile upon seeing the surprise waiting for them.

The two blow their candles and open the gift you and Taeyong got before you eat breakfast as a family.

It's days like these that makes life worth it, making you excited for the days yet to come and the future you're going to live. You look over your husband, playing with the kids and letting them put icing on his face and think your self how much you love your little life.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twelve

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Chapter Rating : R-ish

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This chapter contains vague allusions to physical abuse/abusive past relationship. Some sex mentions. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : ~3.2k

A/N : This is set about a week after the last chapter. It's mostly angst and a little bit more about readers past. Billy kinda fucks up in this one.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

It felt strange to long for someone you hardly knew, to miss having him close when you’d only been intimate for a couple of weeks. But, without Billy, you felt a strange sort of loneliness that should have terrified you, the sort of yearning you’d completely given up on before you’d let him force his way into your life. 

Days had continued to tick by with nothing but text messages and phone calls passing between you, leaving you longing to feel his arms around you again. You tried everything to push the feelings away; reading, catching up with old TV shows, anything that didn’t make you think of him.

But, the moment he told you that he’d be working from home and that you could stay over, you agreed, biking across Manhattan as soon as you finished your day.

He was waiting for you the moment the elevator doors slid open, kissing you and tugging off your clothes as he pressed you back against the wall. He fucked you like it had been six years and not six days since you’d last seen him, leaving you a trembling mess and reminding you just what you’d been missing out on all week.

Eventually, once he managed to finally put you down and take his hands off you, you found yourself on his sofa, eating Chinese take out while he sat with his laptop and tried to get some work done. Now and then, he’d shoot you an apologetic look - obviously, it wasn’t how he’d wanted the evening to go, but you were perfectly happy where you were, enjoying the food and just being near him. You distracted yourself by trying to finish reading the trashy romance novel you’d brought on the Kindle app on your phone.

When you needed a drink, you stood, heading for the kitchen, trying not to disturb Billy. You didn’t think twice about leaving your phone on the sofa, unlocked and on the page you were in the middle of reading - your first mistake of the evening.

“Her fingers sizzled a path to my cock,” his words caught you by surprise, and so did the laugh that followed, “sweetheart, if you’d wanted something to read, I could’ve found you a much better book than this horny trash.”

You turned back to him, feigning indignation; “I’ll have you know that horny trash is the only thing that’s been getting me through the last few days.”

He put down his laptop on the coffee table and slowly got to his feet, your phone still in his hand.

“You think a smutty book is a good substitute for me?” His dark eyes fixed on you, looking at you like he was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to you. You stepped away from the kitchen, back towards him, waiting for him to clear the distance between you and take what he wanted. “Does this stuff really get you going? Does it get you wet?”

You bit your lower lip, trying to to stop your lips from pulling into a smirk, but it was impossible.

“Have you spent this whole week with your fingers between your legs reading this?” Billy asked, stepping closer still. You bit down on your lip even harder, your cheeks starting to heat, before you managed to shake your head. “No?”

“Not my fingers,” you admitted softly, “and it wasn’t the book I was thinking about...”

“Not your fingers?” Your head shook again and he took a step closer. You might as well have been naked with the way he was looking at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Then what were you using while you were thinking about me?”

“My vibrator,” not sure why admitting to owning a sex toy to someone like Billy felt so scandalous.

“Fuck, sweetheart, if I’d known you’d been missing me so much I would’ve spent the last hour inside you, reminding you why nothing but me is ever gonna satisfy your sweet little pussy,” his voice turned low, uncontrolled. “Guess I’m gonna have to make up for lost time now...”

Your eyes dropped, noticing the way his sweatpants were already starting to tent, relieved that the conversation was getting to him just as much as it was you. 

“What about you?” You dare to ask.

“What about me?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“You mean did I jerk off thinking about you?” He asked and you nodded. “Every night with those red lace panties you gave me.” 

You breath caught at the admission and the look on his face, and you found yourself trying to picture it. Staring, you silently willed him to clear the distance between you and give you both what you clearly wanted. But Billy didn’t move, he seemed more interested in the moment you were sharing and wanted to see how far he could push it.

“I get hard just thinking about you, sweetheart,” he continued to confess, “I can’t stop thinking about you on your knees, sucking my cock.”

You made a show of licking your lips, despite the embarrassment you were enjoying watching him slowly lose control. He wanted you to break first, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. “Yeah? You liked that?”

“You know I did,” he all but growled, knowing what you were trying to do to him. “You liked it too, didn’t you? You were so fucking wet when I got you home...”

You nodded almost shyly. As much as you wanted to carry on, you weren’t like Billy, dirty talk didn’t come easily to you, but you still managed; “want me to do it again, right now?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I want you to get on your knees and -”

But then your phone started to ring in his hand and the game quickly came to an end. You watched as he looked at the screen, the smile vanishing from his lips.

“Who’s Sam?” He asked with an unexpected sharpness that caused your stomach to knot. 

“Don’t answer it,” you begged quickly, suddenly. With your hand outstretched you moved towards him, needing him to give you your phone back. But Billy wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at the name on the screen and the picture that went with it.

The ringing soon stopped, but Billy didn’t give your phone back. Instead he started swiping at the screen, obviously looking for something. Your stomach dropped, realising that your phone was still unlocked and he had access to everything on there.

“Billy, give me my phone back, it’s not -” you tried to talk around the lump that had lodged itself in your throat.

“Call me back,” he started to read from your phone, obviously scrolling through the dozens of unanswered text messages Sam had sent, “we need to talk. I love you but I’m sick of this shit. Don’t make me come get you. Talk to me. We had a deal.”

“It’s not what you think,” you tried again, reaching for your phone. Billy stepped back, keeping hold of your phone. 

“And what do you think I think?” He asked, his tone enough to make you flinch. “‘cause I think forty-seven missed calls today, and fifty-two yesterday means someone really wants to talk to you.”

“It’s not like that -”

“Oh, isn’t it? So you get guys telling you that they love you all the time, calling you non-stop and begging you to talk to them?” It almost felt like he was mocking you, like he thought you were an idiot for even trying to convince that there was nothing going on.

“Billy, please, just listen to me...”

If he heard you, he didn’t seem to care. “Is this what does it for you? Is this why you finally said yes to me? Did I chase you enough, make you feel special? You just like the attention?”

“Stop it, just -” you raised your voice, desperate to make him listen, to make him hear you out.

“Is this what you want? You want me to lose my mind over you? Will you start ignoring my calls when you’re done with me?” Something almost frantic started to slip into his tone.

“No, Billy, I -” 

It was clear to see that he was spiralling out of control, that the thought of you with another man made him lose his mind. And it hurt - it hurt that he wouldn’t listen to you, that he thought you’d do anything to hurt him like that.

“If I obsess over you enough, do I get my initials carved on your body somewhere? Will you let me pick where?”

You stepped backwards, an uncomfortable breath catching in your throat. It only took Billy a second to realise his mistake. There was no confusing the sudden look of terror on your face or the way that your whole body tensed as you started to back away from him. Your eyes stayed fixed on him, wide and afraid, your lungs burning as they struggled to draw breath. 

Billy seemed frozen as the pieces fell into place and he finally understood; you hadn’t carved the S into your arm. Someone else had, against your will. 

And, now, despite everything about him that made you feel safe, despite every time you’d told yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you, you were overcome with fear.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t -” you flinched as he took a step, “- I didn’t mean that. I’d never -”

“Please stop,” you uttered quietly, voice breaking as you blinked back tears. You didn’t want to talk about it, not now, not ever.

“I didn’t know, you didn’t tell me - why didn’t you tell me?” A panicked anguish quickly filled his voice and, at any other time, you might have felt for him, but all you could do was continue to shrink away from him. “Tell me who did it - tell me, I’ll fucking kill him.”

The spike of anger in his voice did nothing to settle your frayed nerves. You knew it wasn’t aimed at you, but you had no doubt in that moment that Billy was capable of murder, and that he’d kill anyone who’d hurt you. But you didn’t want Billy involved, you didn’t want him to know about any of your scars or where they had come from.

“Was it this guy? This Sam?” He held up your phone, his knuckles turning white as he dared to step closer. Even though his anger wasn’t directed at you anymore, it still scared you.

You shook your head. “Sam’s my brother.”

Another secret spilled, another thing you hadn’t wanted him to know.

“You have a brother? I thought you said -”

You moved suddenly, before Billy could reach you - he was between you and the elevator, so  leaving wasn’t an option, but you needed space, you needed to be able to breathe. He called your name and you heard him following after you as you ducked into his bedroom and headed for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

The moment the door was shut, you sank to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

“I’m sorry, I -” you could hear him on the other side of the door, but he didn’t rattle the handle, didn’t knock or try to get to you. From the broken tone of his voice, you knew that he was upset and, as much as you might have hated that at any other time, Billy’s upset was not your priority. “I’m a fucking idiot, I’m sorry. I - I never meant -”

You took a long breath, counting back from ten, trying to remember any of the coping mechanisms you’d worked on in therapy so many years ago. Despite the tears in the corners of your eyes, the last thing you wanted was to cry - you’d cried too many tears over the scars on your arms over the years and you weren’t going to shed any more. You were stronger than that, you’d spent years becoming stronger than that. 

“Please, talk to me?” 

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, it felt like you could hardly breathe.

He was pacing, you could hear it through the door. “I’d never hurt you - you know I’d never hurt you, right? I couldn’t, I -”

Still, you said nothing. A moment later there was a loud thud and you heard his footsteps moving away from the door and out of the bedroom.

As you sat, you tried to deconstruct everything that had happened, why it had upset you and whether it was reasonable to be upset about it; Billy going through your phone without permission (yeah, it was reasonable to be upset at that), him getting upset about Sam (yes and no, you probably could have handled that a little better), and the comment about that scar (yes but, again, he hadn’t known the full story).

But, the thing that worried you, the thing that had you panicked, was just how quickly it had escalated and how he hadn’t even tried to hear your side of things. Did you think that he could hurt you? No. But whether that was you being stupid and naive, you didn’t know. All you really knew was that something inside you felt safe with Billy, something inside you told you that he’d never hurt you, and perhaps that was the best place to start.

It took twenty minutes before you worked up the courage to stand and another five before you could bring yourself to open the bathroom door. Billy was nowhere to be seen but, to your surprise, he’d left your phone on the floor in front of the bathroom door. 

You grabbed your bag from the foot of the bed and carried it with you, but you didn’t head for the elevator. You weren’t going to run away.

Billy was standing by the windows, looking out at the view, looking every bit as lost and alone as you felt.

“We - we should talk,” you said softly, just to draw his attention. 

He turned, but he didn’t move towards you. He kept his distance, as if he didn’t trust himself anymore. When he caught sight of the bag in your hand, Billy let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding like he knew he’d already lost.

“I know you are.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“Yes you did, Billy.” It wasn’t your intention to hurt him but there was no missing the flicker of pain on his face. He’d been upset, but he’d meant every word that he’d said to you, and you needed him to acknowledge that. “But what hurts is that you saw those messages and just assumed that I’d do that to you.”

“I know, I shouldn’t’ve, I just...” you could see the struggle on his face as he tried to find the words, tried to find a way to explain something that you weren’t even sure he could explain. You were starting to think it was just how he was wired - but that didn’t mean you had to accept it. “This isn’t easy for me.”

“Which part? Because it’s not exactly a walk in the park for me either.”

“I don’t do this,” which didn’t make it any clearer, but the frustration in his voice was unmissable.

“There is no this, Billy. You didn’t want this to be a relationship. We’re just - I don’t know, us.”

“Yeah, just us.”

There was something in the way he said it that had your heart sinking and it took a moment for the penny to finally drop.

“You wanna fuck other women, is that it?” And suddenly it all seemed pointless. “Of course you do, why wouldn’t you? Why would I ever think you might settle for me?” Because, of course, a man like Billy wouldn’t settle for you, scars and all.

You started to move towards the elevator, telling yourself that, this time, it wasn’t running away; you’d tried to talk to him, tried to figure it out, and leaving was the only option that remained. As much as it hurt, you couldn’t stay knowing that he’d never be satisfied with you, and that he clearly didn’t feel a fraction of what you felt when you were with him. (It was your own fault, you shouldn’t have let yourself feel anything at all for a man like Billy, you’d known from the start that it would end badly.)

“Stop -” he suddenly started to move towards you, “- I don’t want to fuck anyone else, that’s not what I meant. And I’m not settling, you’re the only one I want.” He forced the words out in an angry and uncomfortable admission - he didn’t even manage to look like he believed it himself.

“I’d be flattered if you didn’t sound like it bothered you so fucking much.” You spat back, just as angry.

“Of course it bothers me. I don’t know how to not fuck this up. I don’t know how to not make you leave me.” 

“My suggestion would be doing anything but this.” You reached the elevator doors, but you didn’t push the call button - you couldn’t bring yourself to end things, not while he was still talking.

“So, that’s it - we’re back to this?” 

“Back to what?”

“You, pushing me away, not talking to me.”

“I can’t do this if you don’t trust me.” You told him.

“I’m trying, but you don’t trust me either, do you?”

You wanted to answer immediately, to tell him of course you trusted him, but it wasn’t that simple. He was right, you didn’t trust him, not completely - you didn’t trust anyone completely. You couldn't, you’d been hurt too many times before. And maybe Billy had been too.

“Why don’t you do this - why don’t you want a relationship?” You dared to ask and Billy looked away almost as if he was ashamed.

“Because everyone leaves eventually? Because what I can offer always stops being enough... I don’t know.” He sounded resigned to it, like there really was no other way that he saw things panning out.

“And you think that’d happen with us? That I’d just leave you?”

He looked at you for a second before letting his gaze drop again. “You’re doing it right now.”

“That isn’t fair. You know why I’m leaving.” You wanted to be firm, wanted him to know that you were leaving because of his actions, not because of who he was but, instead, the words came out quiet, soft.

Billy didn’t answer, he looked defeated, like he’d given up. He didn’t talk again until you’d hit the call button and the elevator doors slid open.

“So, we’re done then?”

Were you? You hesitated, hating how quickly everything had fallen apart - how easily you’d both let it fall apart. Maybe it was just how things were meant to be; maybe neither of you were capable of sustaining whatever this was. But -

“No - I don’t know,” was the most honest answer you could give. “I just - I need some time, Billy. Can you give me that?”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “A few days maybe?”

“Okay,” he shrugged in return, looking like he’d already given up.

By the time you’d stepped into the elevator and hit the button, he’d already turned away from you. Billy didn’t say a word as the doors shut and you left him all alone. Somehow, you managed not to break down and cry until you’d made it back across the city and into the comfort of your own bed.

Chapter Thirteen

A/N : Well... I originally wanted to try and time things so I could have nice chapters come out over the holidays, but then this happened. Sorry! It really wasn't my intention to end the year on a downer, but don't worry, the next part is pretty much finished and will be up the same time next week!!

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and, as always I really do appreciate all the love you've shown this series!!!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it hasn't been working for some people so I've tried to remove and add people again to see if that help but, other than that, I think it's just tumblr being lame?)

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[eatmangoesnekkid]

Cassie: Friend, Soulmate, and Self-Regenerating Muse

One of the ongoing themes of my multi-book series is The Muse: the consciousness, archetype, and ways of moving and being of the Muse, who is the Muse and why this energetic matrix is important for every femme to embody for her aliveness and manifestation potential. I made a major edit in this chapter after randomly meeting someone one warm day in Amsterdam recently. The chapter now opens with a story about her.

Cassie is her name and she is stunning. I don’t know what it is about Amsterdam but I rarely—meaning—never —meet people I feel a deep soul kinship with. To be fair, I spend more time biking in Amsterdam instead of walking because the weather is often trashy. But walking is my favorite exercise and I tend to walk a whole lot more in other cities when I’m traveling because, hello, beautiful weather. But on this warm beautiful Sunday in Amsterdam, I joyfully walked everywhere. That’s how I met Cassie, an Indonesian and Surinamese (Black) 38 year old Goddess as she was lightheartedly and confidently sashaying down the street in her short denim dress with peak-a-boo air holes cut out on the sides which illuminated her waist.

She was alone with no cell phone or bag, casually strollin' to her own rhythms while licking a vanilla ice cream cone and delighting in her own innocence and pleasure after walking through the city for hours I would later find out. That is so me—walking for hours in a city and getting lost without a cell phone on me. It was like seeing myself and one of my favorite Minnie Riperton album covers come to life in full-size, "Perfect Angel," the one where she is holding a dripping ice cream cone while smiling so sweetly. Suddenly Cassie made a u-turn and sat on the bench directly across from me. I knew I had to say something to her.

The first thing I said was “you must tell me what you do to have that kind of body.” She responded “you must tell what YOU do to have that kind of body.” She reminded me of me so much—it was dreamy and surreal as watching a Maya Deren “black and white” film yet it was as real as human flesh and a beating heart. You know what her answer was?! “I don’t workout my body. I just workout my mindset and emotional body.” I responded with all manners of celebration “you magical neuroscience quantum theory Gawddddd.” We both laughed! We ended up talking for 4 whole hours— nerding out on everything from quantum physics and metaphysics to speaking about our dreams, love, farm life, and why high-quality, non-extractive penetration (when mutual love and reverence are present regardless of the 'relationship status' between the two) is essential for the healthy shape of a woman’s body and to liberate the deeper coiled wisdom living in her female tissues that no male guru in India could ever possibly understand or teach. It felt like Cassie and I had only been sitting there for only 30 minutes. She was my muse and I was hers. We went on a real journey together.

To open yourself up to The Muse and allow this regenerative consciousness to be your lighthouse in the world requires devotion and a kind of playful endurance and resiliency where you begin to hold a quality of self-worth that does not allow you to give up before the miracles start to happen in your life. Being able to follow a dream -your heart's desires and big visions, capable of trusting the process of what is being divinely asked of you to do and not give up, truly embodying the mindset of a divine being, yield a greater energy of pure power. And what I know about energy is that everything is sourced from it, even though it appears physical to our eyes.

Of course, if you desire to work through the physical/3D world/matter, those things you can logically track and measure, you can. But the truth is that you access more infinite power to shift your body and whole life when you begin to tune into E-N-E-R-G-Y, the subtle, immaterial, and invisible, the spirit that lies beneath the surface, like blessing your food and directing it to travel to the parts of your body you’d like for it to energize or nourish, to make more shapely or healthy. Also, getting into energy work and metaphysics, the essences of your chi, makes you prettier like a beauty ritual, more naturally attractive, magnetic, and wiser. I can’t wait to finalize this chapter and share a snippet here. Yum!—India Ame’ye

[momosandlemonsoda]

WIP sentence game

Rules: you will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

Thanks for the tag, @eirenical ! I got the word FORESTRY with a backup word of BRANDISH. I ended up doing both, though by the end, the R was really defeating me.

FORESTRY

F: Fang Duobing’s bright eyed excitement fades to mulish, lip poking out in a pout that Li Lianhua refuses to find adorable.

O: “Oh no, gorgeous boy,” Li Lianhua smiles at him, “I think you’ll be like that this time.”

R: “Retainer for what?”

E: Even before she makes the suggestion, Li Lianhua goes cold.

S: “Services.” What a polite way of putting it.

T: The first night, when Xiangyi shows up on her doorstep with He Xiaofeng’s nephew in tow, Qiao Wanmian ends up spending the night sobbing (after she hauled off and slugged him—her therapist says embracing her anger is healing, and wow, she was right about that).

R: Rolling his eyes, Li Lianhua forbears to comment on the bus, and simply says, “Or strip out the ambient noise—it’s at a pitch and consistency where I don’t think it would be that hard.”

Y: Yesterday morning, he would have.

BRANDISH

B: But he can feel her eyes boring into him, and he doesn’t stop when he gets outside, walks purposefully toward where he’d left his bike.

R: “Really,” he says.

A: A’Fei blinks a few times before he seems to squint, focusing on Fang Duobing.

N: “No, no, let me get this straight,” says Shi Shui, grinning delightedly as she waves around a chicken wing.

D: Di Feisheng flashes back to the way Li Lianhua had looked as he held himself up on the side of the pool, the strength in his arms as he’d held his head down the other night, forcing Di Feisheing to take his cock.

I: “I swear, he’s like a vampire. Always marking you up.

S: She finally confronts Shi Shui about them one evening after too many glasses of wine, sitting with her and Su Xiaoyong, He Xiaofeng, and a few of their friends at the book club Shui-meimei bullied her into hosting once a month.

H: “Hey,” he says, rising from the table and stepping into Li Lianhua’s space. “I missed you.”

These are all from either my ongoing rockstar AU (Dance the Silence Down), the escort AU, or the escort AU QWM/FDB side story.

Lowkey tagging @foxofninetales, @merinnan @mimosaeyes @thegail and @dangerouscommiesubversive though obviously no pressure. Your word is SUCKER with a backup of BLOAT.

[zetmns]

✧ SPIDER BOY!

“King of thieves!”

Warnings- a overweight joke from Richie Abt Eddie’s mom that’s it tho

a/n: back from the dead 🌚 mb this took a whole life time and the next one bouta take as long (hj 🐐

Prologue- troubles of a hero

parts- previous next master post

September 26 1992

the year it all changed for bill denbrough the 16 year old Derry baseball player things had always been a bit bad for bill after 1989 the year he lost his brother, Georgie. Sure he tried to get thru it or forgot about it but is that something you can really forgot about?

“so quarry after school with all of us right bill?” Bills best friend and so called wingman? Stanley said leaning on his locker in the derry highschool halls.

“yeah o-of course s-stan ill be th-there not something id m-miss you k-k-know?” Bill blurted out as best as he could with his stutter in the way at least. Stanley nodded saying his goodbyes to bill and walking off to his next class. Bill sighed closing his locker and tugging his backpack over his shoulder his legs moving him thru the halls to whatever stupid class he didn’t want to be at. All he needed to do was get thru 1 more class before he could go to the quarry with the only people he really had a personal care for.

reaching his class he went to his seat near the back where he could scout the entire class like a hawk. Bill took out the health book his teacher had been nagging about all month for a coming up project they had to do on the human body.

Students filled the class and took their seats in their respective seats. Bill didn’t bother to care about who was who he didn’t have any of the losers or his baseball team in this class but he did have someone he… admired.

Y/n l/n, it’s not like he stalked her but he did have all his classes with her so it was a bit hard to miss her especially when she was on the soccer team and played violin for the school strings class but everyone knew that didn’t they?

bill looked up seeing her walk in going to her seat in the row next to him his seat across from hers .he straightened his posture a bit glancing at her quickly before he heard the bell ring and the teacher talking

The bell rang signaling the end of class. Bill looked up from his book before closing it and putting it in his backpack packed with books for his other classes but a soda and chip bag lingered in it for after school.

bill took a quick glance at you who was tieing your hair in a ponytail. He quickly got out of his seat and left class to find Stan waiting in the hall with Eddie. One of there other mutual friends, Stan noticed bill and smiled “ hey bill the others are waiting at the front you ready?” Stan asked looking at bill with a smirk as he saw you walk out the class “o-oh okay l-let’s go t-t-then

Eddie jumped Into their talk as they walked thru the halls “ I heard the quarry had some animals in it like fish you know? What if they have parasites or are carrying something I don’t wanna die I mean what if I get something my mom would kill y-“

Eddie had been cut off by a hand on his shoulder “ don’t be a pussy!we’ve gone for years and how the hell would fish get in the quarry? And I thought you were the smart one you have some competition now Eddie!” Richie stated jumping on Eddie backpack to make him mad.

Stan looked at Richie confused “ how the hell did you even get here Richie?” Richie chirped up “ you could say I’m like a superhero”

bill laughed at his comment “ S-sure r-rich a sup-super hero..”

Bill and everyone eventually got together in front of school and rod their bikes to the quarry they had gone to for years. Some memories good some bad but no matter what it was their spot. The losers spot.

Everyone got off their bikes and Ben put down his bag holding a few snacks from a grab n go near by everyone took off their shoes and clothes they didn’t wanna get wet

Richie screamed

“Last one in the water has to give me 50 bucks!!”

before running onto the tip of the cliff they always had jumped off of to reach the water. His friends followed running and laughing into the water before splashing in.

once everyone came up Eddie had followed being last he frowned but smiled after a second

“ well damn eddie…. Looks like you owe me some money..” he said fakely sentimental

“ rich I’m not giving you shit asshole” eddie laughed back

everyone laughed at Eddie’s remark before mike said “ rich Eddie’s mom wouldn’t even let him near ten dollars let alone 50!”

Everyone laughed even eddie. Maybe 13 year old him would defend her thinking she would know about the awful things Richie has said about her. But 16 year old Eddie know knew his mom was a manipulative piece of shit. Maybe Richie wasn’t exactly the best example to someone like Eddie but god was he happy to have him no matter what, even for helping him realize that.

Richie snickered “ well eddie pay me thru candy or something” eddie fake laughed “ oh please my mom doesn’t let me near that either” Eddie said running his hands thru his hair. Everyone erupted into laughs

Beverly pirched up next to Ben “ Richie it’s not like anyone would pay you you’d probably spend it in the arcade” she said with sarcasm

Richie gasped offfended “ oh please! The arcade is totally a good place to spend my summer! Not like theirs another way that’s any better” he said dragging out the last two words”

After a few hours everyone had got out the water and was resting and talking on some rocks near the water bill was sitting on a rock when Richie said “ alright, this Is getting boring let’s go play tag or something”

everyone nodded agreeing putting their foot in a circle Richie bent down and started reciting “ catch a tiger by a toe” leading to Eddie being the Seeker “ why am I the seeker?” Eddie said disappointed “ because you got picked fair and square germ boy” Beverly said laughing before Eddie sighed and counted hiding his face with his palms as everyone ran bill went south a direction Eddie wouldn’t want to go in because of poison ivy.

Bill ran to a close circle of trees and huddled inside out of breath he sat down on the leaves “this should be fine” he muttered closing his eyes trying to get a steady breath. Bill felt as if the world had gone silent in that moment all he could hear was the water of the quarry and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind he softly put his head against the tree and sighed contently before he jolted his body opening his eyes and slightly lifting off the ground tense at the feeling of pain in his hand

“shit!” Bill whispered hissing at the pain in his hand when he looked down he saw two small circles next to each other almost small dots even like fangs of a spider, bill liked around him hearing leaves softly crunch at whatever had bit him was moving away bill sighed rubbing his hand he knew he should probably stop playing and tell his friends in the case that the bite could be dangerous

Bill stood up holding his hand against a tree for support but when he tried to walk away to go back to his friends he was pulled back against the tree he tried to move again but it wouldn’t budge he was confused “maybe it had sap on the tree? He thought but looking at his hand he could tell the tree was completely dry with no sap

He was scared but he tried to stay calm closing his eyes he sighed trying to calm down his nerves he slowly opened one eye before lifting his hand off the tree he was shocked it worked “okay…” he whispered wiping his hands on his shirt he rolled his eyes walking back towards the quarry

bill continued walking to the quarry thinking about what had happened a spider? I mean it was just a spider righ

Tag list !-

@jadahxx @ryryyyyyyy @yourfrenchteacher

@musiclovebot@4rtiee@stilloverthinking@sinceuh-when @artfulthoughtswp @pix-y-styx

@baby-tangerine @fangirlisms13 @superache8 @hunterluvr

@ethanlandryslut

@mrvulm

[lesbians4connorrhodes]

DATES ALPHABET; rhekker edition!

i just miss these guys so bad. here’s what (i believe) we could’ve had <3

A - Amusement Park / Arcade

the two go to Navy Pier one evening after work, during the winter when it's quiet, wanting the best games to themselves. coonor's desperate to show ava how to play all the games and all the crappy pier food from his childhood. however, ava surprises him with her hook-a-duck talents, to which he accuses her of cheating at (her response? "if you were a good surgeon, you'd understand.")

B - Biking / Brunch

they're both not big on brunch, so they only really go when claire and her husband invite them. they make sure to order very different options, just so they can steal from each other.

C - Candlelit Dinner / Cabin Getaway

100% on the candlelit dinner! connor books some fancy place in uptown chicago, just so he and ava can dress up for it. however, a last-minute surgery comes up and they have to cancel; to make up for it, ava snags a table on the hospital terrace, decorating it with candles. it may not be caviar and champagne, but some cafeteria food and just each other's company can make up for it.

D - Dinner Cruise / Drive-in Movie

they may not seem like the couple for a drive-in movie. ava forces connor to go, telling him it's "the only way i'll ever experience proper american culture!", to which he begrudgingly goes along with. let's just say that a lot more happens between them than just watching the movie..

E - Eiffel Tower / Escape Room

why wine and dine in chicago when you can do it on top of the eiffel tower? they both take furlough from work to go there for their second anniversary. it's a second take of one of their failed candlelit dinners, and it's better than either could imagine.

F - Football Game / Fireworks

when marcel hosts a 4th of july BBQ, they go together, hand in hand. it's the first time they've told their coworkers together, and whilst it doesn't come as a shock to some, they're all still supportive and excited. as the fireworks burst in the sky into pretty patterns, ava finds herself in connor's arms; everything is just perfect.

G - Gala / Glamping

gala dates happen quite often, mainly because of connor's social status. neither want to go, it's all for appearances. however, it is fun when they get home and get to rip each other's clothes off.

H - Hockey Match / Harvest festival

connor scores some pretty good tickets for his favourite team and decides to take ava. it's a decent game; of course it's great when your team wins, but what's even better is seeing your girlfriend in your sports sweatshirt.

I - Interior Design Expo / Italian Restaurant

when claire falls ill and is unable to attend an expo, the two take the invites from her. instead of taking it seriously and finding new retailer for D&R, they spend the day fantasising how they'd decorate a place they buy together.

J - Jacuzzi / Jogging

jaccuzis are a great way to relax, especially when your job is so stressful. although, connor does find it hard to relax when ava looks so good in her new bikini..

K - Kayaking / Kickboxing

when summer finally hits chicago, the two make a plan to go to the beach, where they go kayaking for the first time. neither are very good at it (both trying to be in control of where they go, which leads to their usual banter), but they do find some cool caves and crevices.

L - Lakeside Getaway / Live Music

when ava wins a trip away during a gala auction, they immediately take time off to go. it's only for the weekend, so they try and fill it with as many activities as possible. however, not a lot get done; it's mainly fishing, drinking, and of course, sex. but hey, who could want more?

M - Museum / Masquerade

Sometimes it's best just to spend quiet time with each other. he two walk around hand in hand, simply glad to be in each other's presence. it all makes a change from the business of Med.

N - Nightclub / Nine Pin Bowling

it starts off fun, but quickly escalates into a competition. there's no need for it - they just can't help but to bicker over who's the better bowler (spoiler; it's ava). maybe it's best not to go bowling when you're both so competitive..

O - Observatory / Orchestra Concert

it's another date they attend for the appearances, but they end up enjoying it more than they thought.

P - Picnic / Photoshoot

when the weather is good, they go for picnics in the park, stretched out on the blanket and enjoying being with each other, finally free from their stress of work.

Q - Quiz Night / Quiet Time

when molly's hosts a quiz night, connor and ava decided to team up with the coworkers. but what confuses everyone, though, is when they go on seperate teams - they tell their coworkers that they "don't want to scare you with our intelligence". everything goes well until the final round, when connor surprises ava with his knowledge on crappy reality shows.

R - Resort Weekend / Road Trip

it's a double date with claire and her husband, but it doesn't mean they have to spend every waking second with them. connor and ava go off to do their own thing, which includes a lot of typical couple activities.

S - Spa Day / Swimming

this ties into their resort weekend trip. it's a good day for them, finally feeling relief from the recent stressors at work. but it's hard to keep it PG-13 and not get caught.

T - Tiki Bar / Tango Lessons

this date happens as a re-do after ava misses connor's leaving party, but instead of celebrating someone moving on, they celebrate moving in together. it's gonna result in a massive hangovers the next day, but it's worth it.

U - Upscale Dining / Unplugged Date

sometimes it's better to just escape the real world (AKA electronics) and be with each other. whilst it could be reading or spending time with one another, they tend to lean towards coffee dates, just the two of them, not having to deal with their pagers going off or endless surgeries.

V - Valentines Day / Volunteer

valentine's days are the ones they go all out for; whilst they attempt to both have clear schedules, it never quite works out. so, it doesn't surprise ava when a bouquet of flowers turn up at work for her, or connor gets home to his apartment to find a new bottle of whiskey. it's the little things.

W - Woodworking / Weekend

weekends off from work are basically dates for them, and mean they can be as lazy as they want. sex in the morning, not getting up until midday, breakfast in bed. it's bliss for them.

X - eXcursions / eXpensive

of course it’s gonna be expensive! connor will go above and beyond to treat ava right up (which she loves). sometimes she’ll try and get the bill, but he always insists. neither are a stranger to expensive gifts either.

Y - Yacht Cruise / Yoga

for their third anniversary, they go on a cruise. but not just any cruise; connor rents one out so it’s just the two of them. it’s a great weekend away, even if neither of them are the best sailors (at least nobody dies!).

Z - Zoo / Zip Lining

they’re both animal lovers, so the Lincoln Park Zoo is sometimes a date. they both love reading the facts and seeing all the different animals. occasionally they’ll do the petting zoo; connor has his phone lock screen as a shot of ava holding a rabbit.

-

taglist; @superstorefannnn @v1bri

comment if you want to be added to the list!

[hotsaucekisses]

Big n tiny boyfriend,,, *explodes*

[naychuchu]

🐈‍⬛

tw: this is my first time actually posting anything i’ve written. i made these pretty late at night so i’m sorry if they’re bad i just wanted to write something. probably some spelling mistakes and stuff i didn’t feel like checking it throughly.

a/n: please be nice

personal

* i’ve mentioned this before but baji absolutely LOVES the yakuza game

* favorite one is yakuza 0 (definitely not because this is the only one i’ve watched so far🌚)

* john cena fanboy for absolutely no reason. has his theme as his ringtone

* number 1 baby metal fan. owns their merch and goes to every concert

* his favorite season is summer for obvious reasons but his favorite holiday is definitely christmas because he and mikey ride around with shin

* HATES horror movies. like nothing can convince this man to watch them. even the kiddie ones like goosebumps or scary stories to tell in the dark will have him act like the devil just touched his soul

* definitely the kind of guy to walk around with one lens in his glasses after a fight

* purposely named his bike cockroach knowing pah is afraid of them

* he used to hate his fangs when he was little because kids used to tease him and say he was a dog

* that was until he started saying he’d bite and give them rabies if they kept messing with him

* cannot grow facial hair to save his life

* judges people on how they interact with animals, specifically cats

* despite popular belief, i don’t think he would get any tattoos. he seems like a piercing guy and definitely cannot sit that long for a tattoo

* gave himself the alias edward because he used to watch twilight with his mom

* he even had a phase when he acted like a vampire but will vehemently deny and threaten anyone who dares to bring it up

* is lactose intolerant and just like many of us will eat dairy and instantly regret it as soon as it hits his stomach

* sometimes he feels insecure about the fact he was held back, all of his friends moving up while he’s left behind

* even though he has a reputation for committing arson and slightly unprovoked violence, keisuke is truly a model citizen☝🏽

* volunteers at shelters, helps the elderly, feeds the homeless, solves climate change. he truly is a saint and can do no wrong!

home life

* i like the idea that his mom was a teen mom and that his father was never really around and just stopped coming one day

* due to her job, his mom sometimes works really late or super early so over the years he’s learned to cook (the only good thing he can cook is yakisoba)

* on the nights he knows his mom will be back late he cooks her food and despite it not being the best she still loves it

* even though she works a lot the two of them are still very close and their favorite thing to do is read manga and watch mystery dramas whenever she’s off

* despite not knowing his dad(he only visited when he was a baby) he never felt insecure about it

* he’s a total mamas boy, and will fight anyone who says something about her

* when ryoko was younger, she wanted to have a lot of kids but after having keisuke she changed her mind. she felt it would be selfish to have so many kids when she works so much and after realizing how much of a handful he can be.

* despite that and having him at such a young age, keisuke was the best thing to ever happen to her and wouldn’t trade him or his wildness for the world.

relationship

* back on the yakuza point, whenever you’re sad he’ll grab a hair brush, turn up the radio and start singing 24-hour cinderella to you until his voice is gone

* when you guys get in a fight he’ll act like he’s in a 2000’s r&b mv and start singing bakamitai. chifuyu gets the hose to spray water above him, kazutora plays the music, and ryusei records the whole thing so baji can send it to you

* a biter, like what’s the point of him having those sharp ass teeth if he don’t try to take a chunk out of you

* whatever your favorite animal is, he’s gonna buy every single book about them so he can share little facts about it with you

* if you’re into a specific artist or group, he’ll listen to their whole discography and learn everything in the fandom

* becomes a horanghae enthusiast and will force you to be one as well

* just like he’s loyal to his friends and toman, he’s loyal to you

* like foreva togetha foreva LOCKED IN 🤞🏽

* a girl tries flirting with him and all of a sudden he’s hellen keller

* the type of boyfriend to say you’re too spoiled whoever you ask for something while doing said thing you requested

* will literally lift his ass off the seat while you’re sitting next to him and fart on you then blame it on you

* talm bout some ‘ew the hell did you eat’ like his diet doesn’t consist of yakisoba, monster energy drinks, and beef glizzies

* speaking of farts😸 keisuke will send pics of his shit to you asking if it looks normal

* will make fun of you if you’re lactose intolerant as if he don’t be upside down on the toilet fighting for his life

* is constantly in your personal space. like he’ll be standing behind you while you play like candy crush or best fiends mumbling about moves you can make. sometimes he’ll snatch your phone and play it himself

* what’s yours is his. mid chew on something he wants? he’s opening your mouth and popping it in his, no matter if it’s soggy

* absolutely loves giving and receiving hugs, being in your arms makes him feel safe and gives reassurance that despite all of his flaws you still love him

* stares at you with his mouth open, no matter what you’re doing or how you look his eyes are on you 24/7

* takes the absolute worst pictures of you on facetime and puts each one in his favorites until the end of time

* throws rocks at your window at like 4 in the morning knowing you both have school just so you can ride around with him until the sun comes up

* i feel like he’d totally like mellow down on the things he does. he doesn’t want to worry you while he’s away

* constantly checks up with you so you know he’s okay and not lying on the ground somewhere and dying 🌚

this is so scary bye 😭

[manderleyfire]

'panem lost a poet panem lost a standup comedian' lmaoooooooo what are your favorite Coriolanus’ unhinged quotes from tbosas?? I cackled so much during that rather dark book, I feel embarrassed, lol

He had to think of just the right way to break the news. But what would that be? 'I love you deeply, but I love officers’ school more?' That wasn’t going to go over well.

Did you tell your best friend his crush was a cannibal? Never a rule book when you needed one.

AH, TRUST AGAIN. ThE aIr WaS fUlL oF iT.

Coriolanus winced slightly. TWO biking mishaps in the same twelve-hour period seemed more than coincidental.

This entrance was for the poor people, Coriolanus thought. Or perhaps not poor. The word PLEBEIAN came to mind. (those history classes did nothing for him)

PASSING OUT SANDWICHES WAS ONE THING, THROWING THE CHAIR QUITE ANOTHER (sorry, i'm in tears, xDDD)

Snow lands on top and ALL THAT. He knew he should be elated at this turn of events and jumping up and down inside while p r e s e n t i n g a modest, pleased front. But what he really felt was jEaLoUs.

THE HERO OF HER LIFE!!!!!!!!!!

The i m p o s s i b i l i t y of being a Snowflake in this postwar world.

And here he was in his uniform, clutching a rose like some lovestruck schoolboy, hoping she would — what? Like him? Trust him? Not kill him on sight?

Good-bye, Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you (biiiiiiitch 🔪)

So now that loudmouth Arachne was a defender of a righteous and just land. Yes, she laid down her life taunting her tribute with a sandwich, thought Coriolanus. Maybe her gravestone could read, “Casualty of cheap laughs.”

BETTER OFF SAD THAN DEAD

Coriolanus did not want to spend the next twenty years listening to them *mockingjays* serenade the local executions.

What was he doing but dressing her up to be a pretty corpse? Perhaps she could strangle someone with the scarf, or stab them with the pin?

HIS OWN FANS HAD A LITTLE MORE CLASS (rich boy™)

The LAST TIME Sejanus had lost his appetite, he’d lost his sanity as well.

Who were all these PeOpLe hanging around on a weekday at the zoo? Didn’t they have jobs? Shouldn’t the children be in chool? No wonder the country was such a mess.

What an ugly place, he thought dully as the train chugged its way through District 9. It didn’t look fit for human habitation.

Coriolanus gave the camera a thumbs-up when they cut for his reaction. He could not believe THIS was his life.

How much bread had they wasted with this nonsense? Oh, no, he starved to death! Somebody get the bread!

CORIOLANUS SNOW, MORE LONER THAN LOVER (whatta slogan for his presidential campaign)

How awful, Coriolanus thought. To have YOU be the first person in the world a baby sees *about dr. gaul*

Why would evil incarnate help his girlfriend?

In rhetoric class, she’d once attributed his inability to decipher the deeper meaning of a poem to the fact that he was too self-absorbed. The irony, coming from Livia, of all people! But actions spoke louder than words. Coriolanus to the rescue, Livia to the nearest exit.

“Of course I liked it, but I’m more open-minded than most" (hahahaha)

Then came confusion. If she had saved his life, he owed her, what? A sandwich and two cookies? That was how he was repaying her. For his life. Which apparently he held quite cheaply.

Oh, a ghost story. Ugh. Boo. So ridiculous.

Ma? Was Coriolanus’s place about to be uSuRpEd by someone who referred to his mother as “Ma”? The cabbage and posca threatened to make a reappearance.

CANNIBALS OVER CUTTHROATS!

several people took the pained look on Coriolanus’s face as sorrow at Arachne’s death, when ironically he felt like killing her all over again.

“That was some good-bye.” Coriolanus just shrugged. “What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

Poor Sejanus. Poor sensitive, foolish, dead Sejanus. (GUNSHOT 💀💀💀)

[thecoolblackwaves]

Another Fic for @candcweek !!! This one is independent to the "Kiss and Marry" multi chapter one I've got going -- in fact, it's part of a different universe. A modern AU I'm calling Family Of Nerds (I made a post a post it). Join C+C as they have a little picnic date at sunset.

Fandom: The Silmarillion

Pairing: Tyelkormo/Curufin (implied)

Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Family Of Nerds AU, Motorcycles, Stargazing, Implied Incest, Ambiguous Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: “At about eight years old, Tyelkormo had become obsessed with outerspace and astronomy, spending many hours in their backyard with a small telescope. Little Curvo often joined him - sometimes even sneaking out past his bedtime - to observe the twinkling lights and listen to the history his brother read about in his library books. Stargazing had become a private tradition for the two of them.”

AO3 A/N: This is set in my “Family of Nerds'' universe. My Tumblr blog @thecoolblackwaves has a post explaining it - basically, it’s a modern AU where Feanor, a philologist, and Nerdanel, an arts professor, have raised their kids to be their fully authentic, artistic, nerdy selves. Tyelko is a bow and arrow wielding forest ranger and gym bro, Curvo is a ballet dancer who failed to go professional and now creates jewelry and accessories for dance companies instead. I’m hoping to continually add to this universe! Not all installments are slash/incest, neither are they linear, but with this one it’s implied. Also I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles or astronomy so sorry for any inaccuracies.

……….

Tyelkormo’s favorite brother needed cheering up, and by god was he going to do it!

He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Curvo and Angrod, but whatever it was, they had both stormed out of their grandfather’s house visibly upset. While he generally got on with that particular half-cousin, Curufin always came first for him. Always. So he tailed him home and watched closely as his little brother sulked around the kitchen - not eating anything, though he eyed some chips - and then took a rather violent sounding shower.

Curufin tended to deny himself food when his emotions were in turmoil. A leftover habit from ballet classes, he suspected. Even though he wanted nothing more than to eat away his feelings, and was no longer required to maintain a ruthlessly flawless physique, he would instead choose to punish himself. Tyelkormo wasn’t having it.

He snuck around the house to gather his supplies, careful not to alert his brother to the opening and closing of doors. He then went into Curufin’s bedroom and laid out warm, comfortable clothes, along with his own leather motorcycle jacket and spare boots.

“What are you doing?”

Curufin’s voice, though flat, held no malice as he moped in with a towel around his waist. Tyelkormo considered this a private victory. Even when he felt like shit, Curvo awarded him and him alone his patience and the softer, more vulnerable sides of his personality.

“I thought I could take you on a ride for a while. It’s a beautiful night, and I want to spend time with you.”

“Are you gonna ask me what happened once I’m trapped next to you going eighty miles an hour?”

“No, I won’t ask unless you want me to. And only seventy-five, don’t wanna deal with state troopers.”

Curufin snorted, then he nodded. He shut the door and dropped his towel, casual nudity not bothering him, and got dressed.

They wheeled the bike out of the garage, Tyelkormo giving it a kickstart. Curufin secured his helmet and sat behind him, holding on tight as they peeled out of the driveway. Sharp winds whipped around their bodies and twilight glittered across the horizon.

Tyelkormo pulled into a fast food drive-thru despite his brother’s feeble protests. He also paid for their meals, despite louder protests, and drove them down scenic country roads to a secluded field.

He unpacked a picnic blanket from one of his saddle bags and heard Curvo snort in surprise. Grinning to himself, he also pulled out the candle he had nicked from the dining room table and lit it with a flourish, setting it safely within a wide metal dish and laying it in the center of their blanket.

Curufin was giggling uncontrollably now, pink in the face, looking light and happy. He gracefully fell into a seated position and divied out their cheeseburgers and french fries.

“Sorry this isn’t chocolate covered strawberries and wine, or anything, but I was starving,” Tyelkormo said, laughing as well.

“It’s fine, I prefer this anyway. When did you come up with the idea for a picnic?” Curvo asked curiously as he drowned his fries in honey mustard sauce. Tyelko wrinkled his nose.

“While you were showering. I wanted to take you out to dinner, but I also wanted to be alone with you, and it’s so nice outside today. Seemed like a good compromise.”

“It is,” Curufin reassured. “This is nice. Peaceful.”

They fell silent for some time, admiring the last streaks of sunset while they finished their food. Around them, insects chirped and buzzed, and a few fireflies emerged from the grasses.

Curufin laid back with a sigh, arms crossed behind his head. Tyelkormo quickly joined him after blowing out the candle, cuddling close to his side.

“Will you tell me about the constellations?” his younger brother asked.

It was a question he’d heard many times over the years. At about eight years old, Tyelkormo had become obsessed with outerspace and astronomy, spending many hours in their backyard with a small telescope. Little Curvo often joined him - sometimes even sneaking out past his bedtime - to observe the twinkling lights and listen to the history his brother read about in his library books. Stargazing had become a private tradition, the vast night skies had witnessed the making of many intimate memories between them.

“Well, there’s Orion-Orome, the Hunter. He rides a white horse, Pegasus-Nahar - the one right there, to the left - and leads the hunt for evil creatures. Sometimes he’s accompanied by a pack of dogs led by Canis-Huan Major, the one stretching out its leg.”

“That’s who you named Huan after, right?” Curufin asked, curling into his side. Tyelkormo put his arm around his shoulders and played with the ends of his hair with his free hand.

“Yeah, that’s right! The best boy in the whole world. You know, he once helped the big constellation, Andromeda-Luthien, to defeat Cepheus-Morgoth. She was said to be incredibly beautiful, and sang a song that enchanted him so she could steal the jewels from his crown, and rode away on the dog’s back with her husband Perseus-Beren. It’s that one to the right straight ahead.”

“Sounds unfair to me,” Curufin muttered, “Stealing someone’s symbol of power. Where did she go?”

“No one knows, they disappeared into the night, never to be seen again. Some say that when great heroes die, they turn into stars themselves. For example, Cygnus-Elwing. She sacrified herself to save her people and turned into a bird flying the skies, then became a star with her husband, Auriga-Earendel. There’s a myth that once a year, they board his ship and sail across the skies as a bright shooting star.”

Curufin hummed, cuddling closer. He kissed his brother’s cheek.

“I don’t know how people come up with this stuff. I just like the way the light shines from them, it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” his brother agreed. “Like you.”

“Oh, sap. Knock it off.”

“Never. Oh look, Curvo, there’s a shooting star now!”

Closing his eyes and smiling, Curufin rested his hand over Tyelkormo’s heart.

“I’ve got everything I need.”

“Oh, my god. You call ME sappy?”

The End :)

[darkhorse-javert]

Spring Edition Flufftober Day 7

And i'm behind with these prompts, again

I'm jumping ahead a few months in my Foyle's War AU ahead to write this for the Spring edition of @flufftober.

Giving someone a Present

April 1943

Sam carefully folded the pink scarf her parents had sent back on itself, brushing her fingers on the wool. It would just about go, especially if she wore it with something green-coloured. And it's warm, which is the most important thing, the way the wind even in spring can bite on those long bike-rides.

"Ah, here's one more." Kit, sitting opposite, had reached down and, from somewhere, pulled out yet another package of brown paper, holding it out to her.

She took the small rectange on reflex. "But you've already given me one." Two extra, hard-won, spanners to travel in her coat pocket, in case the bike were to break down enroute.

"Mmm- not exactly mine." Kit said as he settled back into his chair. "I just kept it safe a while."

She pulled the rough packing string free, unfolding the paper and lifting it away. A hardback book with a smokey blue dust-jacket, evocative of shadows and searching torches appeared

"Oh! It's the new Lorac! 'Death Came Softly'" she read off the front cover "I saw this was out in The Times a while ago, but to get it -"

She glanced up at Kit, he flicked his fingers a little, as if to say 'open it' She eased open the cover. Familiar handwriting, set stark against the thin paper of the flyleaf.

' My Dearest Sam,

Happy Birthday to you this 20th April 1943,

My own darling, dearling, Wife,

& Many Happy Returns of the Day.

I hope you enjoy this one

Your ever-loving Husband

Andrew

XXX

She gently brushed her fingertips against the ink, looked up at Kit

"He bought it down...?"

"When he was last on Leave." Kit said as he nodded. He smiled "I've been hiding it since then-" His lips quirked into a knowing smile "Not telling where mind you."

The smile was infectious, "As if I'd ask." She turned to the first page of the story proper, ignoring the disbelieving noise from her father-in-law.

A/N; In which the Author didn't have to Fudge things, because the 1943 E. R. C. Lorac novel is mentioned in the Times of February 24, 1943 - so it was published in time for Sam's (apparent) Birthday.