#''when you argue with them insist they go for a walk with you to distract them and expend their energy''

[geoffrey]

moab training is astrology and chakras for men

[marauroon]

Hellooo! Marauders are taking over my heart my body and my life as well so could I maybe request a fic with James (or poly!marauders whatever you like) with a reader who is avoidant of relationships so once they realize they are loved they try to run away but James wont let her go and patiently convinces her to give them a chance? Thank you so much!

S E L F - S A B O T A G E — POLY MARAUDERS!

poly!marauders x fem!reader | h/c | 4.0k | masterlist!!

the marauders had thrown their hearts at you like it was effortless. and you just couldn’t return the gesture.

cw— relationship avoidant reader, mild miscommunication, mini argument, reader gets anxious and overwhelmed

a/n— thanks for the request ml, this one may require a part two <3

When exactly did it start? All four of you could give a different answer.

Sirius wagers it was the first potions class of fifth year, where you’d been unceremoniously wedged in between him and James as a part of a stupid boy-girl seating plan to stop ‘distractions’.

It didn’t work evidently, and James had managed to talk your ear off almost every lesson since, a familiar glint in his eye that Sirius knew all too well.

Remus would say it was closer to the end of that same year, when they’d somehow managed to invade your table in the library to study for their OWLs and Sirius had managed to get distracted—and distract you—within ten minutes of sitting down, spending almost a whole hour talking at you before Remus had to step in to make sure you both got an ample amount of revision done.

James would probably argue it was the first time the three actually spoke to you, finalised in the way that Remus looked at you as you slid a healing balm across the desk for his increasingly scarred hands with only a mutter that they “looked like they hurt,”.

And you? Well…

You’re not exactly sure.

It was so gradual yet so sudden and now you’re walking down the hallways with three borderline guard dogs at your tail like they’ve collectively decided you were a part of their pack.

And you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

It was endearing to a point, a genuine, unconditional affection shared between the three boys and spread onto you with no request for yours in return, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel almost suffocating.

You were almost constantly in the presence of at least one of the boys, languidly smothering you in unbridled affection like it was second nature to them.

Whether it was Remus slipping you notes for classes you weren’t paying attention in, Sirius insisting on carrying your bag down the hallways, or James sneaking compliments into every sentence he spoke to you, the casual fondness they showed you was never-ending.

And if you were being honest, it was beginning to be a bit too much.

“Here, love,” James passes you a pitcher over Sirius’ breakfast. “You’ll dry out your throat, we need that pretty voice in tact ready for the match later,”

You take the pitcher from him with a raised eyebrow, hoping your fluster isn’t too apparent in your tone. “the… match?”

“The Quidditch match doll,” Sirius takes it upon himself to pour your drink for you, taking the pitcher from your hands like you’ll shatter if he’s not careful enough. “We’re versing Slytherin, it’ll be a sight for sure,”

Oh.

Right.

“Damn right, I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when we take the cup for the fifth year in a row,” James hits Sirius’ arm lightly in his enthusiasm, stealing a slice of toast from his plate. “You are coming right?” James blinks at you slowly, honey-brown eyes big and round, like he’s silently trying to hypnotise you into agreeing with him.

“I- yeah,” You give him a half-stunted nod, letting your words speak before you can make up your mind and ultimately pull out of it. “yeah…”

“Excellent,” James clasps his hands together with a satisfied nod. “I’ll dig out a spare jersey for you,”

“Who said she was wearing your name?” Sirius turns to him with a raised eyebrow, and it starts a lighthearted debate that you quickly tune out in favour of the dull ringing in your ears.

The way they were talking made everything sound so final, so… concrete. Like you’d just completely melded into their routine through no input of your own.

“You don’t have to,” There’s a soft nudge against your left side, joined by what’s almost a whisper from Remus. “I don’t go to all of them,”

He’s giving you an out. Or at least trying to. You know that if you suddenly pull out of wanting to go that James and Sirius’d be disappointed, even if they pretend that they’re not.

“It’s alright..” You shake your head with a small smile, attempting to reassure both Remus—and yourself—that you really do want to watch the boys play.

James wins his and Sirius’ debate apparently, and a few hours before the match is due to start he hands you a folded up Quidditch jersey with a smile etched onto his face.

“Here you are m’love, look forward to seeing you in it later,” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, winking as he pulls away. “Gotta run for some last minute practice, wish me luck,”

“Good luck…” your hands curl in around the jumper almost instinctually as you stand stationary watching James run out of the common room waving in your direction, and once he’s out of sight your eyes drop to the clothing in your arms.

You hold it up to let it unfold, signature red and gold stripes adorning the fabric and a large embroidered ‘POTTER’ covering the back where it’d meet your shoulder blades.

Well, James’ shoulder blades. It would probably cover most of your upper back.

You spend the next hour staring at it in your dorm room, left draped over the end of your bed as you internally fought with yourself over whether you should actually put it on.

It was taunting you the way the gold embroidery thread caught the overheard lighting, forcing your focus towards the surname like an ultimatum.

If you put on that jumper, you were committing yourself to whatever you’d been thrust into.

And the thought made you almost physically nauseous.

It was like the boys had handed you their hearts on a silver platter, expecting you to shield them inside your ribcage, nestled against your own until they stop beating.

Like they were giving themselves to you wholely, nothing left behind until it was piled up so high that you couldn’t dig yourself out of the iron hold they’d captured you in no matter how much you tried, slowly asphyxiating yourself under the ever constricting grasp of the cage they’d trapped you in until you turned blue.

It terrified you.

You didn’t go to the Quidditch game.

God knows if you did it would end in nothing less than tears, if not you literally collapsing from hyperventilating at the first sight of any of the three of them.

Instead, you burrowed yourself underneath your satin sheets to seek a dull solace, no comfort found in the way you curled in on yourself, but no growing anxiety either.

You knew you’d have to leave it eventually, face the three boys and force out an excuse whilst desperately hoping they didn’t see just how horrifically anxious they made you.

It was horrible really, they’d done nothing but extend their kindest hands to you, treat you like you painted the stars in the sky and gifted them the oxygen they breathed.

And here you were, dreading the thought of so much as glancing at their blissfully oblivious faces.

“Sweetheart,” Marlene enters the dorm almost cautiously as she edges the door open, still clad in her full quidditch gear, sweat glistening against her forehead. “The boys are outside for you,”

“I’m not here,” You muffle your words into your duvet as you pull it up and over your head, and you can’t faintly hear Marlene sigh as she treads over and pulls you from your cocoon of self pity through dragging the quilt out of your hands.

She raises her eyebrow down at you questioning it, but you can see the concern swirling in her irises.

“Just tell them I’m asleep?” You furrow your eyebrows in silent pleading, echoed through your words as you exhale heavily. “Please?”

Shes clearly not very happy with your request, but she bites her tongue and gives you a small nod anyway, brushing stray hairs from your forehead with a sigh. “Whatever this is about, you should talk to them,”

“Yes mum,” You roll your eyes with a feigned sigh of indignation, pulling the duvet back up underneath your chin.

As she turns to leave, expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, you catch the jersey draped against your bed-post in the corner of your eye.

“Marls,” You point to it almost pathetically. “I really don’t want to face them right now,”

She practically snatches the jumper from the end of your bed with an almost scolding expression, and you flash her a guilty but grateful smile.

“I love you,”

“My love for you is dwindling,” She throws the jumper over her arm with an over-dramatised exhale, but she shoots you a flying kiss across the room nonetheless, and it leaves you with a small smile as the door clicks shut.

Although it doesn’t last very long.

You’d given her the jumper to return for you because you didn’t even want to consider what James’ face would look like when he got it back.

But of course your mind pictured it anyway.

The way his hazel eyes would pool first in disappointment before slowly turning to worry, a small, almost imperceptible frown pulling at the corners of his lips and his eyebrows furrowed just enough that it caused a line to form above the bridge of his nose.

You honestly didn’t know if you seeing it in real life or the picture your brain had unceremoniously forced onto you was worse, but what you did know was that you could not face him now.

The minute that boy saw you—any of them really—you knew that the impending conversation that followed was going to be one you didn’t want to have.

You jinxed yourself pretty hard with that prediction.

You’d managed to avoid the three at breakfast the next morning to no credit of your own, slept in so late after running your mind into the ground the night before you’d basically missed the whole thing, but you didn’t even make it down the hallway towards your first lesson before a pair of running feet crescendo’d in your direction.

“Hey—”

Shit.

“Sirius, morning,” You stop dead in the middle of the hallway, most definitely to the begrudgement of the rest of the students trying to get to class; And whilst you regret it almost immediately, Sirius doesn’t have a care in the world for diverting the foot traffic, concern written in the way his eyebrows knit together as his attention stays devoted to you.

“Are you okay? You didn’t make it to the match yesterday, we were worried about you,” His tone conveys less disappointment that you didn’t go and more genuine concern that something might’ve happened or gone wrong.

“Yeah, sorry,” You reply half awkwardly, fiddling absentmindedly with the cuffs of your sleeves. “I’m alright though,” You echo the end of your sentence with a nod, lips pressed together in a line, a mimicry of a smile.

“You’re sure?” He reaches out his hand to press the back of it against your forehead. “Because if you’re ill Moony’s got a bunch of stuff from Madame Pomfrey, I’m sure something’ll—”

“I’m fine, Sirius,” You don’t let him finish his sentence before you’re gently pulling his hand away from your face and back down to his side. “You really don’t have to worry, I just fell asleep,”

“Alright,” He most definitely picks up on the traces of defensiveness in your tone as he takes a step backwards to give you a little more personal space, and you’d have half the mind to feel guilty if you weren’t so constantly overwhelmed by him and the others.

“I’ll uh,” He presses his lips together half-awkwardly. “Let you get to class then,”

“Don’t you have potions?” It’s genuine curiosity, edged with a small amount of concern that Sirius’ll be late for his own class now that he’s followed you half way to yours. On the opposite side of the castle.

“Yeah, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first,” Sirius gives you a small smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Let me walk you?”

You shake your head slowly, gently pushing on his shoulder. “Go to your own class, Sirius,”

He lingers for a moment before turning to head back in the direction he came from, leaving you with a mix of relief and lingering guilt.

__

Your day is largely uneventful until lunch, the smell of parchment still lingering in your nose as you wander out towards the courtyard instead of joining your friends in the great hall.

You knew they’d be there. Of course they’d be there.

And after this morning with Sirius, which he’d definitely told the other two about, you were finding yourself wanting to be in their presence even less.

So you take your lunch to the courtyard instead, settling on a bench farthest from the entrance to avoid any potential encounter. The peace is short-lived, however, as you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.

“Thought you might be out here,” James' voice is gentle, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he takes a seat next to you.

You tense up, trying to muster a smile but failing. “Hey, James.”

“Hey,” he echoes, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “You missed breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah, I—“ You search for an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. “I wasn't really hungry.”

James nods slowly, as if he's trying to decode the underlying meaning behind your words. “Is everything alright? You seemed a bit off yesterday.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I'm fine, really. Just needed some time to myself.”

“Time to yourself?” James repeats, his tone soft but probing. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

You wanted to curse James Potter sometimes.

How could he be so confident in himself that he could throw his heart at you with no fear of it shattering in your palms?

How could he be so sweet yet so painfully ignorant?

“If this is about you missing the quidditch match yesterday, Sirius and I aren’t—”

“It’s not about the quidditch match James,” You cut him off with a sigh. “Or— It is, but it’s not just about that—”

You stand to release yourself from James’ proximity.

“James, it's everything.” you finally admit, unable to hold back any longer. “I cant so much as breathe without one of you attached to my hip and I can’t do it anymore—”

James' face falls, the concern in his eyes deepening. “We're just trying to show you we care, but if it's too much, we can give you space.”

“It's not just space,” you say, your voice trembling. “It's... even thinking about you three is suffocating me...”

James's face contorts in confusion and a touch of hurt, but he quickly masks it with a forced understanding. "I... didn't realize it was that bad," he says quietly, his usual confident demeanor faltering for the first time in your memory.

You swallow hard, guilt gnawing at your insides, but you can’t take back what you’ve said. You don’t want to. It’s been building inside you for too long—the overwhelming presence of James, Sirius, and Remus in your life. They were everywhere, all the time, and while their company had almost become a comfort, it quickly spiralled into a cage.

“I’m sorry, James. I know you all mean well, but it’s just… too much,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, though the motion seems more for his benefit than yours, as if he’s trying to force himself to understand. “I get it,” he says, though you can tell he really doesn’t. “I guess I never thought about how it might feel from your side. We just… we wanted to make sure you really felt like one of us,”

The way he says "one of us" stings, a reminder of how you were a part of their tight-knit group—no, how they had made you a part of it, pulling you in whether you liked it or not.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You hadn’t really been given a choice. You had been absorbed into their world, expected to fit perfectly into the space they had carved out for you, without ever considering whether you wanted to be there in the first place.

“I know you didn’t mean any harm,” you say, trying to soften the blow. “But I need to figure out how I feel without… without you all hovering over me all the time.”

James winces at that, and you can see the pain in his eyes. “We never meant to make you feel like that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought… We— thought, you… We were trying to prove how much we care…”

The tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, but you blink them away. “I don’t need you to prove anything, James. I need to breathe.”

He looks down at his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap. “If that’s what you need, then we’ll give it to you,” he says finally, though his voice is tinged with reluctance. “We can give you space, we can— leave you alone if that’s what you need. We can wait until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

James doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

“I— Why wouldn’t you ever be ready..?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, James,” It hurts, coming out of your mouth, echoing back into your ears. But it’s true.

“I— I know being with three people at once can be overwhelming but—”

“It’s not that James,” You shake your head with an almost imperceptible sigh. “I don’t think I’d even be able to date one of you without being overwhelmed,”

James’s eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from hurt to confusion. “Are you saying... you don’t want to be with any of us?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and regrets. You glance away, struggling to find the right words to convey the complexity of your feelings.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” you say slowly, trying to articulate the intricate emotions swirling inside you. “But I can’t… give myself to you, I can’t— hand you three my heart on a silver platter like you did to me. I just can’t.”

James's expression shifts from confusion to a mixture of frustration and sadness. He clearly hadn’t expected this level of honesty.

“I get that you’re overwhelmed,” he says, his voice quiet but determined. “But can you give us a chance to show you that we can handle it? That we can adjust and give you what you need without pushing too hard?”

You meet his gaze, seeing the earnestness and vulnerability in his eyes. It’s clear he’s invested in making this work, not just for himself but for all three of them. You can see him struggling to reconcile his own desires with your need for space and clarity.

“It’s not just about trying, James,” you reply, feeling the weight of your words. “It’s about whether or not I’m ready to be a part of this—whatever this is. And right now, I don’t even know what I want, let alone if I can handle being part of something with all three of you.”

James nods, absorbing your words. “I understand that you need time. But maybe instead of pushing you away entirely, we could find a middle ground. We could— take things slower, give you room to breathe while still being here for you in a less overwhelming way. If you don’t want us all together then… maybe it’s just one of us you’d be open to starting with? Even if it’s just as friends—”

Your heart softens a bit at his suggestion. The idea of easing into something less intense seems more manageable, though it still doesn’t completely resolve your concerns.

“You can get to know us properly— as people, and let us show you why we care about you.” There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, one that’s mirrored in his irises, swirling in his gaze amidst the sunlight reflecting off of his pupils. “Just… give us a chance,”

You take in James’s earnest plea, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. The desperation and hope in his gaze pull at something within you, a flicker of longing for a connection that feels genuine and real, even amidst the confusion and overwhelming anxiety.

“I... I can try,” you say slowly, the words feeling both heavy and hopeful as they leave your lips. “I can try to get to know you better, as individuals, and see where it goes. But I need you to understand that this isn’t going to be easy, and it might take longer than any of us expect.”

James’s face lights up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. “That’s all I’m asking for,” he says, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips. “We’ll take it slow, no pressure. Just... let us show you that we can be what you need, one step at a time.”

You nod, feeling a tentative sense of hope as you look at him. “Alright. We’ll start with that. But if at any point it becomes too much, I need you to promise me that you’ll respect that.”

James’s smile widens, his eyes reflecting a mix of joy and determination. “I promise. We’ll be patient and understanding. And if you need space, we’ll give it to you. Just... let us try and convince you...”

There’s a moment of silence between you, the tension easing slightly as you both come to a mutual understanding. The path forward is still uncertain, but the willingness to try and the promise of patience create a small but significant shift in the dynamic between you.

You give him a soft nod. “Thank you, James,” you breathe out shortly, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

James gives you a warm, encouraging nod. “Anytime. We care about you, and we want you to be happy. Just remember, we’re here for you.”

And so, the next chapter of your ‘relationship’ began. Starting in a place that preceded even the beginning.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Drunk Confessions

I ran out of time over the weekend to work on requests 😬. So here's a little something I wrote a while ago to hopefully hold everyone over until I can get the next request out! Sorry!!

Oneshot

Summary: Asmo takes Mammon to the club for some liquid encouragement to finally get his older brother to confess his feelings to MC.

Drunk!Mammon x Reader

Supportive!Asmo

Word Count: 1,513

A small smile rested on Asmo’s lips as he supported his older brother’s weight, the two of them walking through the front door of the House of Lamentation.

Asmo figured it was the least he could for Mammon since it was his idea that they go out tonight.

Mammon had been distracted lately. His mind had been completely focused on you.

If he wasn’t with you, he was wondering what you were doing. It didn’t matter if he was by himself or with his brothers, he was constantly thinking about you.

And, if he was with you, no one else mattered. You could be in the middle of a crowd with him, and the only person he’d see would be you.

Asmo would have been happy for his older brother - if Mammon actually admitted how he felt.

Instead, he spent his time denying it and hiding the truth from you, even though it was completely obvious.

Asmo could see how happy both you and he would be if Mammon would just get over his tsundere habits.

He couldn’t stand idly by any longer. So, he decided to invite Mammon out to the club with him.

They were the two biggest party animals out of all the brothers, so they had gone many times before. Though, they hadn’t gone together since your arrival in the Devildom.

Mammon tried to shoot the idea down, wanting to spend the night with you; but, Asmo was insistent. 

After getting Mammon to agree, they arrived at the club shortly later. Asmo never stopped smiling while Mammon looked rather broody for the setting they were in.

That didn’t deter Asmo though as he handed his older brother a drink, hoping to provide him with some liquid encouragement.

Mammon accepted the drink, trying to loosen up. Maybe Asmo was right - maybe he needed to be distracted from his thoughts of you. At least for a little bit.

One drink turned into two and two turned into four and so on and so forth.

Mammon’s plan to distract himself from you had been a complete and utter failure, just as Asmo had predicted.

Here they were, surrounded by beautiful people, and the only person he could think about was you.

Several people had even attempted to flirt with Mammon, but their attempts went straight over his head as he immediately began telling them about you. 

Everything seemed to remind Mammon of you. Someone would pass by him and the faintest hint of their perfume would remind him of you.

Someone would smile at him and he would imagine it was you smiling at him.

Someone would laugh and Mammon would hear the sound of your laughter in place of theirs.

Mammon was practically moping around the club by the end of the night, wishing he was with you. 

When Asmo saw the state Mammon was in, he immediately suggested the two of them go home.

Mammon had way too many drinks and Asmo knew he wouldn’t be able to get home by himself. He wasn’t expecting Mammon to lean on him for support though.

Asmo helped him anyway. He was afraid if he let go, Mammon would topple over and he’d have to get Lucifer to help him get Mammon home. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.

On the walk home, Mammon had opened up to his little brother. He told him about how he had never met anyone like you. You were special in every way, and your beauty couldn’t be matched to anyone’s from any of the three realms.

Asmo would argue with him about that tomorrow when Mammon was sober.

It was a rare and vulnerable side that no one ever really got to see from Mammon; and, as much as he didn’t want to take advantage of him in this current state, he knew it was for the better. “You should tell them how you feel, " Asmo stated.

A blush coated Mammon’s cheeks at the idea. He wanted to, but…he couldn’t.

He couldn’t handle it if you rejected him.

Asmo opened his mouth to tell Mammon that it was pretty obvious that you liked him back, but Mammon kept talking. “I mean, you all think I’m nothing but stupid, money-grubbing, scum. No one sees me as anything but my sin that I was given. So why would they?”

Asmo’s eyes widened at Mammon’s words. There was something about the sincerity in his voice and the way his eyes threatened to tear up that made Asmo feel suddenly incredibly guilty.

It was a running joke among the brothers to call Mammon stupid and scum. It’d been that way for so long that it was almost second-nature to associate those words with him.

But, he never stopped to think about how Mammon felt about it.

None of them asked to be an avatar of sin when they fell from the Celestial Realm. It’s just what happened when they became demons.

But, Mammon was one of the most powerful angels in the Celestial Realm. He was the “second-born” for a reason. Surely, he didn’t really think that the harsh words his brothers called him was all he was, right?

“They don't see you that way,” Asmo reassured his brother as they made it inside the House of Lamentation. Maybe it will was the alcohol that made Asmo feel emotional too.

He wanted to say more - to apologize for his part in making Mammon think he wasn’t good enough for you. But, now wasn’t the time.

“Really?!” Mammon asked, his face lighting up, a certain glimmer in his eyes. Asmo nodded his head in response, and Mammon broke free from his side, suddenly able to walk on his own.

“Wait, where are you going?” Asmo questioned, trying to decide if he should let Mammon wander off.

“I’m going to go tell them how I feel and then probably regret it,” Mammon called back, making a beeline to your room.

Asmo chuckled lightly at his brother’s words but made no attempt to stop him. In the end, this is what Asmo had wanted.

Mammon reached your door in a matter of seconds, and didn’t even bother knocking. Instead, he just pushed the door open, walking right in.

Luckily, you were still awake. You were sitting on your bed, scrolling on your D.D.D. But, you stopped as soon as Mammon entered.

“Y/N!” he said, practically running over to the bed and pulling you into a hug. You could smell the alcohol on Mammon’s skin, but you didn’t say anything about it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him. “Are you okay, Mammon?”

His arms tightened around you at your words. He was taking in everything he could about you. The way you smelled, the way you felt in his arms, how warm you were - especially when you were pressed against him like this.

He opened his mouth to say something a couple of different times, but stopped each time. You knew he wanted to tell you something, but he was working up the courage. So, you didn’t say anything else, wanting to give him the time he needed to get his thoughts in order.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin, causing a deep blush to rise to your cheeks as your heart skipped a beat. Did he just say that?

“You have to say something,” he added, preparing for the worst possible outcome. You could tell how scared he was for your response and you slowly pulled out of the hug, noticing the frown on his face. You had already pulled away and now he was just waiting for your words of rejection.

You gently cupped his face with your hand, his eyes finally meeting yours. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Mammon could have sworn he died for a moment as your lips touched his, his eyes fluttering close.

You pulled away after a moment, looking deep into his eyes so that he knew you were being genuine. “I love you too.”

Mammon never thought his heart could beat so fast as he pulled you into another kiss.

He wrapped his arms around you again. He didn't want to go any further - not when he wasn’t in the right state of mind. But, he also wasn’t ready to leave yet.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you asked him, and his eyes lit up. “Ya' mean it?” he asked and you nodded your head.

You moved from the bed to turn the lights off and then returned, letting him hold you. You had never been more comfortable, and neither had he.

*

Asmo had a smile resting on his face as he listened from the other side of the door. He thought about giving the two of you privacy, but he was dying to hear Mammon’s confession. He figured Mammon couldn’t be too upset since Asmo was the one who convinced him to finally confess.

When he heard you get up to turn the lights off, Asmo finally left, retreating to his own room. Mammon’s words never let his mind though. From that night on, Asmo tried his hardest not to be so harsh to Mammon. He was their brother, after all, greed or no greed.

[smileyerim]

what’s mine is yours

if mark isn’t going to make a move on you himself, his friends will surely find a way to make one on his behalf. the opportunity arises after an evening of drinking at mark’s apartment that lands you tangled in mark’s sheets wondering if he feels the same chemistry that you do.

pairing: mark lee x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive !!MDNI!!

length: 4.9k

warnings: adults drinking alcohol and getting drunk, dialogue about sex, both reader and mark are drunk the entire time, mark is a pussy!

net tags: @kflixnet @k-labels

Drinking with the boys always led you into sketchy situations. There was the one time Haechan insisted on breaking into a waterpark to ‘visit the mermaids’. Or the time that Renjun ordered a cab for all of you to go over to his ex-girlfriends house to win her back. Jaemin once threw up in the kitchen sink and didn’t tell anyone until morning.

So, yeah, drinking with the boys always led you down odd roads and tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Okay!” You exclaim drunkenly, head previously falling forward as you dozed in your spot.

“Which one of you gentlemen are going to drive me home?” Your eyes lazily trail across the room at the boys all scattered about in various positions.

“Uh, I’m not good to drive,” Mark says and shoves his thumb into Jeno’s shoulder to ask “you good to drive?” Which earns him a shake of his head.

The rest of the group reacts now, all to let you know that none of them were sober enough to be behind the wheel.

“Okay…” you drag out the word and pull out your phone to open the rideshare app and struggle to type in your apartment’s address.

“Uber is $65.” You say bluntly, again scanning your eyes around the room expectedly. When you don’t get a response, you speak up again.

“This is the part where you say ‘Oh, here Y/N, we’ve got it.’” You tease and Haechan just rolls his eyes and groans.

“Just stay over. It’s fine, you can take the couch.”

“I call dibs on the couch.” Chenle’s voice is muffled from where his nose is nuzzled in the cushions. You’re genuinely surprised that he’s still breathing. You’re not too sure how, though, he’s buried pretty deep. He’s clearly not about to move any time soon.

“Fine, you can sleep with Mark.” Haechan says, hand signaling to the boy who was too distracted by his phone to keep up with the conversation until his name was spoken.

“Wait, dude, what?” Mark exclaims, his wide and glossy eyes switching between you and Haechan quickly. His drunk brain can barely keep up.

You hear a snicker from over your shoulder, “That’s a good idea, Y/N, why don’t you sleep with Mark?” Jaemin’s hand sits lazily on your shoulder.

You frown, a little too drunk to pick up the pieces and put them together.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Jeno says, his own giggle escaping his lips. The two aforementioned boys had smoked earlier, leading to a fit of giggles shared between the two.

“Why is this a better idea than walking her home?” Mark panics, watching you slowly absorb all that’s going on around you. It doesn’t seem like you’ve picked up on how obvious the boys are being and he’s thankful for that.

“It’s cold out and we’re all tired. Just take one for the team and let her sleep in your bed.” Haechan argues. He’s getting more and more frustrated by the minute. Mark has been complaining for weeks about his crush on you, and the moment that Haechan finally does something about it, Mark protests?

“Where will I sleep?” Mark stupidly asks and Haechan’s head falls back onto the couch when he rolls his eyes.

“With her, Mark.” He says with a frustrated tone, his eyes shut and squeezed.

Before Mark can object again, you finally put the pieces together and move to stand, nearly falling into Jaemin’s lap behind you in the process.

“Come on, Mark.” You say, your hand is out in offering for Mark to grab. His slow brain goes a bit numb, too focused on the gold ring on your middle finger. He hadn’t noticed you wear it before.

When he doesn’t move fast enough, Haechan groans and rolls his eyes, grabbing Mark’s arm by the wrist and placing his hand on yours.

“I have to do fucking everything around here, don’t I?” Haechan says to the group, excluding you two who have already begun your drunken trek to Mark’s bedroom.

The vibe is much different when you’re in his room behind a closed door. He keeps his room tidy usually, but his unmade bed and loose bath towel on the floor suggest he wasn’t anticipating company. You prefer it this way, it makes you feel less like a guest. Especially when you’re about to use his bedroom as a hotel, nonetheless.

It also helps when his ruffled sheets make his bed look all the more inviting and comfortable. You flop your belly down, snuggling into his pillow. It smells faintly of tea tree shampoo and musk. You wonder when the last time he washed his sheets was, but you aren’t sure you want to know the answer. It smells like it’s been quite a while but you’re too drunk to care.

“You want some clothes?” He says from his standing position. He wasn’t expecting to see you so… comfortable. You look as if you’re at home in his bed.

He can’t believe it. You’re here in his bed. Sure, you’ve been in his room a million times, you’ve sat on his bed a million times, you’ve even cuddled with Mark on his bed a million times. But this time is different. You’re sleeping here, you’re going to wake up here, you’re going to be lying side by side with Mark for a minimum of 8 hours and he’s not sure he’ll be able to hold it together that long.

“No,” you say looking down at your athletic shorts and crop top. You weren’t wearing a bra, anyways. “A toothbrush would be nice, though.”

He scurries off to the adjoined bathroom and rifles through his drawers quickly, praying that he’d have at least one clean spare toothbrush.

“Unless, of course, all your hoes have used all of them.” You tease. You aren’t quite sure where that comment came from or why you felt compelled to say it but it has an effect on Mark as he stills for a moment before continuing his search. He finds one and walks back over to where you’re still lying on the bed.

“My hoes don’t ask for toothbrushes.” He says in half-honesty. It’s true, no girls have ever asked him for a spare toothbrush. Sure, that’s due to the fact that he’s never had a girl stay over before, but it’s still the truth nonetheless.

“Ew. Good to know I don’t have much competition then. At least I have basic hygiene.” You say, already loading up the toothbrush with his toothpaste.

His brain goes haywire at the comment. Does what you said mean what he thinks it means? Why are you including yourself on the list of Mark’s “hoes”? Do you want to be one? His only one?

Once you’re done, Mark has already changed into his outfit for bed. He’s hesitant on whether or not to wear a shirt. For your comfortability he probably should, but you’ve never been bothered by his bare chest before in all the times you’ve been over. What would make this time any different?

He decides against it as he gets himself ready for bed, trading spots in the bathroom when you go back to bed. His heart is beating out of his chest, which is saying a lot for how much the alcohol still present in his system has relaxed him.

He’s equally thankful for and also angry at Haechan for the stunt he pulled to get you into his room. He’s wanted this for a long time, thats no surprise, but is this how he wanted it? He wants you to know that you’re special to him, is a drunken night sleeping in the same bed enough to tell you that? His head is spinning and it comes to a halt when he sees you lying in his bed on your phone waiting for him to come to bed.

You look natural there, like you’ve always belonged.

“I’ll be right back.” He panics and runs out of the room before you can acknowledge him.

He sulks out into the living room once his door is shut behind him where all the boys still remain. Only Haechan and Jeno are still awake, playing some video game on the TV.

He plops down on Haechan’s left, careful not to sit on Chenle’s knee which Haechan is resting his back against.

“How’s it going in there?” Jeno asks and Mark groans in response, pouring himself his final shot and downing it quickly. The burning sensation in his esophagus is a welcomed distraction from the flurry of thoughts in his head.

“I don’t know what you want, Mark, honestly.” Haechan says, eyes still trained on the TV in front of him.

“I know, I know. I just want her to know that she’s special to me and not just another girl.” Mark groans, playing with the idea of pouring himself a second nightcap shot.

“Did you tell her that?” Haechan says like it’s obvious.

“She’s drunk, Hyuck.” Mark counters, deciding finally to pour himself another shot of the room temperature liquor. Mark is drunk too, so he’s not too sure why that factor matters right now.

“Did you try telling her?” Haechan repeats himself, earning a shoulder check from Jeno.

“What he’s trying to say is that it’s in your hands at this point. You know what you want and you know how to do it. You just need to grow the balls and get it done.” Jeno says and Haechan leans his shoulder on Jeno’s shoulder to signify a quick hug in thanks.

Mark doesn’t move up from his position in an act of procrastination, and Chenle, who Mark previously thought was sleeping, kicks Mark swiftly in the lower back to force him to his feet.

“Go before she falls asleep and you lose your shot again.” Chenle says, head still buried deep in the cushions.

“How the fuck are you breathing, dude?” Mark asks dumbfounded.

“He has his ways.” Haechan responds, an arm wrapping around Mark’s hips to shove him out of the way of the TV screen.

Clearly, Mark is no longer welcomed out in the living room with his friends, so he moves back to his room with you, quietly opening the door in case you had fallen asleep.

You haven’t, of course. You’re far too concerned about Mark to relax long enough to fall asleep.

“If you want me to go home I can just get the Uber it’s fine.” You say the moment Mark walks through the door.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. He can’t even have one second to think.

“No, you can stay.” He says, heading back into the bathroom to brush his teeth again after the two shots he took.

“You just seem a little off, so I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s no big deal, really.” You say, already moving to stand up out of his bed, moving at a much slower pace than normal due to the alcohol still in your system.

“No, please, stay.” He says, walking over to your spot, essentially blocking you from standing.

Your face still doesn’t seem convinced so he shares the truth in the best way he knows how, “I want you to stay.”

You still don’t seem fully convinced, but you lie back down anyways and wait for Mark to join you. He’s stalling at this point, moving around the room and unplugging every socket he can see.

“Big fire hazard guy?” You tease from your position in bed, his pillow parallel to your chest where your head lies. There’s something about the hopeful anticipation in your eyes that makes Mark’s head spin.

Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Probably the alcohol.

He laughs dryly, finally laying down next to you. His head is flat against the mattress, blocking your view of his face from your position atop the pillow beneath you.

“Oh, here, you want it?” You say, offering him the pillow. Mark chastises himself internally for only owning one pillow.

“Nah, you take it, you need one too.” Mark waves you off and adjusts to bend his arm behind his head, resting on his forearm.

You think for a moment before replying, “Well… you’re here aren’t you?”

“Wh-“ Mark’s question is cut short by you sitting up, placing the pillow beneath his head, and then laying your own head on his chest.

He hopes you can’t hear his heartbeat when you ask, “Is this ok?”

He, very boldly in his opinion, responds by wrapping his arms around your body. One over your shoulders and one around your waist. Thank you, alcohol!

“Just peachy.” He says, voice cracking.

His limbs are still stiff around you, but you don’t mention it as you sit up one final time to flip the light switch by the door.

You feel him jolt when you lie your head on his chest again. You feel like rolling your eyes at his dramatics.

“Seriously, Mark, I can go home.” You say, gauging his level of discomfort by the stiffness of his limbs and the sound of his breath that he’s clearly attempting to get under control.

“Nope.” Is all he says as he wraps his arms around you tighter and pulls you in. A beat passes as you feel his muscles relax beneath your head.

“You’re confusing, Mark Lee.” Is your message of acceptance as your fingers find his collarbone, tracing circles around it and scratching into the caverns gently.

He scoffs at your words, “I’m confusing?”

“Well, you say you want me here but you’re clearly uncomfortable.” You retort. He just wishes you would let the conversation settle. He’s trying his hardest.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” It’s a half truth and he knows it, but he’ll say anything to get you to shut up.

“When’s the last time you had a girl in your bed?” You ask and thankfully you can’t see him roll his eyes in the darkness.

“A while.” He swallows. He can tell where this is going and he doesn’t like it.

“You could’ve just said that!” You say with a soft, almost condescending, tone as you coo, digging your head further into his chest.

“It’s not that. You think you have me all figured out but you don’t, so just drop it please? Let’s go to sleep.” Mark pulls you even closer at that and it’s your turn to stiffen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his pec and he sighs, the hand around your waist holding you tighter.

“It’s fine, just settle down.” He says and you try your best, but your mind is now running a mile a minute.

What the hell did that mean? If you aren’t making him uncomfortable, and if it isn’t that he’s just out of practice, then what is it? Why is your best friend acting so weird?

Your mind can’t help itself but say, “Are you drunk?”

“Very. You?” He says honestly. You smile against his bare chest.

“Very.” You giggle and he does too, his hand traveling down your body to grab at the back of your knee to hoist your leg to rest over his. The ice has been clearly broken as he relaxes into the new position.

You nuzzle in closer to his chest, your hands continuing to explore the dips and curves of his shoulder.

“Did you drink more when you went out there?” You ask, not really wanting to go to bed just yet. You have an odd feeling that your night isn’t over.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound. He can’t tell if you’re prying to try and collect information or if your drunk brain is truly just curious, so he keeps his answers brief.

You giggle out your question, “Why?”

“You don’t usually have this many questions.” He deflects, but you catch him.

“You don’t usually avoid answering.” You retort and he sighs, chest rising and falling slowly below your head. It’s a nice feeling, you think.

You’re anticipating an answer, but he doesn’t give you one. Frowning, you move your head so that your chin rests on his chest, your eyes level with his cheek from where he’s lying back. He looks down at you in the dark of the room to notice your impatient stare.

“Just needed a little extra liquid courage, that’s it.” He shrugs and you frown deeper. That answer just gave you more questions than answers.

“But-“ he cuts you off.

“Just let it go, please.” He begs, his voice genuinely sounding desperate. Usually you have a free pass to tease Mark, but something is different about him tonight so you don’t pester him any further. You lie your head back down over his chest and continue to stroke his shoulder lazily. You seem to be getting more and more comfortable with each other here, which pleases you.

He appreciates the gesture, clearly, as the hand that was previously around your waist travels back down to your leg to grab a large handful softly, his thumb stroking over the side of your thigh near your knee gently.

It’s a nice moment, you think, and before your brain can tell you otherwise, your lips are puckering to leave a gentle kiss to his bare skin beneath your head. His breath hitches softly at that, so you move your head gently away from the spot to rest your forehead against his chin.

Truth be told, you aren’t quite sure why you did it. You and Mark have cuddled a million times before, but you’ve never kissed him. You’ve never even given him a cheek kiss as a greeting. Your lips have never touched Mark Lee, but for some reason tonight you felt compelled to. It was innocent and short enough that you could pretend it didn’t happen at all.

You can feel Mark slowly turning his head, your heart beating at a mile a minute at the sheer unknown of how he will react.

Just as your mind begins to conjure up rejection scenarios, you feel something.

His lips make contact with your forehead, his warm breath fanning over the top of your hair as he stays in his position, gentle lips kissing your forehead. You hold back a gasp, and your heart picks up pace. He still hasn’t moved, which you’re thankful for, as you absorb the feeling and attempt to process your emotions quickly.

That was a move.

That was a move.

Mark is making moves on you. Do you want him to? You can’t lie and say you haven’t thought about him romantically before. He’s your best friend, he’s seen your lowest and your highest and he’s stuck around through it all. He’s also undoubtedly attractive and your type. But you’ve never imagined him in this context.

But you wouldn’t want to take advantage of him. This is Mark you’re talking about here. There is no “casual fun” with him. Whatever is happening is already changing the course of your friendship, do you want to keep it going and take it further?

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to decide before his hand finds your chin, pulling up to signal that he wants you to look at him. You comply, of course, with probably too much ease.

His eyes dart between your two as he tries to read you. He wants this. He knows he wants this. What he doesn’t know, though, is whether or not you want this too.

“Are you too drunk to know what you’re doing?” He whispers and you can feel the air from his words hit your lips and it only makes you want him more.

“No.” You whisper back meekly, your eyes trained to his lips. He’s never looked so kissable. In fact, you’ve never even considered the idea of kissing Mark. Now that you’re here, though, you can’t believe it’s not crossed your mind before. You want him so bad that it feels like you’ve wanted him forever.

Your answer was clearly all he needed to brush his lips over yours. It feels like the wind is knocked out of you as you lie there, not even pursing your lips, just allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being so close with you.

The moment is beautifully intimate, you won’t lie, but you’re feeling a bit impatient and if Mark spends any more time cherishing the moment rather than seizing it you may combust. So you take the next step and officially slot your lips over his, your hand coming up to grab at his jaw to keep him steady on you. He reacts without hesitation, kissing you back with as much force as you’re giving him.

The kiss is remarkable in all the ways that it truly isn’t. There’s no sparks or fireworks, and it takes you a while to get into a rhythm. Your teeth knock his a few times and you both miss the opportunities to insert your tongues into each others mouths. It’s almost laughable how bad the kiss is from a black and white perspective, but you’re satisfied. Because, above all else, the kiss is natural and it feels right.

Once you’ve found your rhythm though, you’re fully emerged in the feeling. He’s a slower kisser than you thought he would be, clearly still attempting to savor the moment with everything in him, and you let him.

It’s nice, you think, being here like this. Every first kiss you’ve had has spurred an emotional rollercoaster inside of you. You’re typically too preoccupied with doing the right thing, looking hot enough, memorizing the other person’s likes and dislikes, and thinking about the future when you kiss someone. Kissing Mark is different. You aren’t full of worries, you’re simply enjoying it. A part of you tries to pin it on the comfortability that comes with being as close friends as you are, but another part of you that’s been hiding for a long time tells you otherwise.

Your adrenaline spikes at the thought, and it spurs you to make the next move to straddle across his waist. He reacts instantly, his hands finding your hips as he kisses you harder.

You like Mark, you realize. Perhaps your heart is a little behind your head as you’re already kissing him, but the realization sparks something in you nonetheless.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he admits when his lips leave yours to trail down your neck. You aren’t sure if Mark is intending to bring the heat up, but it’s working when he finds that one spot near your carotid.

You hum, hand threading in his hair to keep him close. You love this. You love this moment. You never want it to end.

As if he hates you, Mark’s mouth leaves your neck to look at you to do precisely that.

“Are we doing this?” He says and you’re startled by his honesty and boldness. Is this the same Mark who was too scared to even sleep in the same bed as you?

“Define this.” You ask. It’s a valid question, he has to say, but he’s not bold enough to say it by name. Sure, he can grow a pair when he absolutely needs to, but his natural instinct is to quietly observe the other person, not be observed himself.

He doesn’t respond with words, but with an action much more bold than he realizes when his hands find your hips again and move you down to rest over his crotch. He’s not hard yet, but you still get the gist of what he’s trying to say. A gasp escapes you, earning a coy smile from the man below you.

“I take that as a yes?” He teases and you aren’t given the opportunity to respond before he sits up fully, meeting you in your sitting position to wrap both his arms around you tightly as he kisses you again.

Now the kiss is hot. His hands are busy all over your body, lighting fire in its path. You moan encouragingly into his mouth when his hands graze the underside of your breast. He catches the message quickly and moves his hand higher to officially grab you, both of you moaning at the contact. Your mouths connect sloppily, and you begin to feel a poke from underneath you.

It takes all the self control in your body to slow things down, but you owe it to Mark to talk about this.

You say his name into his mouth quietly, which he interprets as a moan, and responds with his own groan right back.

“Mark,” you say a little more firmly this time, your hands finding his shoulders to signal that you have something to say.

“Are you sure?” You ask and his previously anxious eyes soften.

“Are you?” He retorts and you roll your eyes deliberately at him.

“I asked you first, idiot.” You say and he smiles, bringing you in for a hug, his nose finding the crevice between your neck and shoulder. You can feel him relax below your fingers when you hug him back, your hands threading into his hair. The moment from before is long gone, but you prefer this.

You smile from your position on his lap. This is easy, you think. Much easier than it ever has been. It almost scares you how natural this feels with him, but you don’t allow your brain to indulge in the anxiety of it all. You’ll happily wait as long as Mark needs to give you an answer if he’s holding you like he is now.

“I’m sure that I want you, if that’s what you’re asking.” He says and it makes you smile again. He’s trying to get you to say it first. Your best friend has never been very sly, although he likes to think of himself that way.

“That is what I asked, but that’s not what I meant.” You say, throwing the ball back into his court.

All this back and forth is giving you a headache. Under any other circumstance you’d have been fed up with all the pussyfooting and made an actual move, but you want to give Mark the chance to say what he needs to say. You have a feeling that he needs the floor more than you do.

“I want to fuck you, but I don’t think it would mean the same thing to you as it does to me.” He says finally and you melt at his indirect confession, holding him tighter and slightly swaying your bodies side to side.

“Then ask.” You say simply, still not taking the power he clearly wants you to. He’s used to you being the bolder one, he’s never had to fight with you to get you to offer your mind.

“You’re making this really difficult for me, aren’t you?” He jokes and you let out a genuine laugh, kissing the crown of his head once you’re done.

“You’d regret letting me take the lead.” You read him honestly and he scans his brain for a conflict, but you’re right. He would regret it.

“You know me so well.” He says, resigned acceptance on his voice as his hand rubs wide circles into your back.

“I know, that’s why you like me so much.” You snark and Mark leans back to look you in the face with a shocked expression of offense.

“You said you’d let me take the lead!” He whines and you giggle, hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“You’re taking too long.” You attempt to justify yourself.

“I wanted to tell you.” He pouts and you move to grab the other side of his face with your other hand.

“You still can.” You gently inform him, quieting down and looking deep into his eyes.

You had anticipated a confession right then and there, but he continues to stare back at you. You can see the wheels turning in his head and you roll your eyes once more in faux annoyance, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Now, Mark.” You taunt with a giggle and he breaks out into nervous laughter, leaning away from your hands and you let him go hesitantly, resting your hands back on his bare shoulders.

He clears his throat and averts his eyes to the bedpost as he gathers his thoughts. It’s cute, you think, how flustered he is. All of this drama for you? Mark is this nervous to confess to you? You’re not a self conscious girl by any means, but you feel a little out of bounds by the idea that Mark Lee is flustered over you.

He’s amazing. Why doesn’t he think that you would notice that about him? Why does he look like he’s preparing himself for rejection right now? Does he really think of you that highly? Or worse, does he think of himself that low?

He clears his throat once more, saying your name quietly and grabbing your hands in his. You feel as if a bit more distance has been put between you now as you’re no longer holding him, but you allow him to guide.

“I’ve been into you for a while,” He says, taking in a sharp breath after the phrase is out. Although you were expecting to hear it, actually being in the moment feels more intense than you thought it would be. Your toes curl in anxiety as you attempt to keep your cool.

“and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I kissed you— that I genuinely blame on the alcohol—but this is all me.” He says with a sigh at the end. If the confession had been pretty, it wouldn’t have been Mark’s. But you love it all the same.

A smile slowly creeps over your face as you look at him through your eyelashes. You don’t want your reaction to influence him, you want him to fully own this moment.

“Say something please.” He says with a cute impatient lilt to his voice that makes you laugh.

Your poker face, if you even had one in the first place, slips when you open your mouth to respond.

“Mark, I’ve been into you for… well…. not that long,” you say and he laughs in response, hopeful eyes and expectant smile on his face.

“but this is all me, too. I swear if I had known before I would’ve done something before.” You draw an x with your finger over your heart and Mark grabs your hand and presses a gentle kiss to your fingertip. Your heart melts as he grabs your hand with his two and draw them down to his chest.

“I like that you let me.” Mark says, leaning in as if he was about to kiss you. You smile, tilting your chin to meet him.

“Thank you.” He whispers before meeting your lips together in a sweet kiss.

i wrote this all in one day and only proofread it twice so if it sucks…. uh….. yeah! if you did enjoy my little brain dump of a story, please reblog and send feedback! your engagement means waaayyy more to me than you realize.

[tan1shere]

Her Favorite

Teacher Billie Eilish x student female reader !

A/n: the thought of this is sending me feral rn, enjoy 😩 also Claudia is in this and we are pretending you and her are the same ages okur yuh (20-21)(bills is nearing 30s let's say 😋 MILF) - there's going to be links to the outfits on each day that she wears on one of the words, just to help you get a better visual 😁

Summary: you're the teachers pet. Her. Favorite.

Warnings: smut DURH, mdni ! Thigh riding, soft dom bills nothing new here, sub reader, heavy sexual tension GAHH - think thats it ! Lmk if I left anything out 😙

Masterlist

You were a college student. That's how most of these go right? You're the popular party throwing, blonde- no. In this case you were the shy, less know girl who sat in the middle of the class, not in the front and center. Or in the back. You were fairly confident, in yourself and what you loved. But all attention on you sent worry through your body. You had one best friend, Claudia. She was the kindest soul, more outgoing than you were but you loved her regardless.

Today was a Wednesday so that means music class. You don't really have any interest in it if you're being honest. But Claudia insisted you join her as a fun class, which you'd argue with and say all classes were fun in a way. But that wasn't strictly true. You couldn't sing, nor play any instrument so it wasn't as fun to you. "You know, I got you to agree to this class because it was fun, not to be good at it!" She says, walking beside you into the classroom. "But we have to try to be semi good at it- and that's not going so well." She just nudges you. "Well I already know you have fun anyway." She winks. Making your eyes roll.

"Don't you just wonder what she will be wearing today." - "You're annoying you know that?" She shrugs with a smile. "I know you love meee." As you entered the room. You spot her. The teacher of this specific class. She was beautiful and you most definitely had a crush on the woman. Was it silly? Maybe, but it was the only good thing about this class. Like Claudia was teasing to you about before. Today Ms O'Connell was wearing something very casual. A brown striped jacket with a collared white shirt underneath. Her hair was down today and she just looked so good. You sat down in your usual seats.

Ms O'Connell then starts for today. Explaining a few things, you honestly had no interest in them. But you just couldn't help staring at her. You then hear your name being called pulling you out of whatever trance you were in. "Y/n? You listening love?" You swallow discreetly, trying to not make it obvious how nervous she made you. You'd never let it fully show. Besides she talked to all the students that way. "Yes, sorry just tubed out for a sec. I'm listening." You replied sweetly, really not wanting to get in trouble. Or maybe that wouldn't be so bad. She nods in reply, continuing.

It wasn't as if you voluntarily put yourself out there, you never asked questions but for some reason she seemed to ask you all the questions, why? You were just writing something down when she eventually approaches you. "Can we speak after this lesson?" She asked you so softly, you thought youd die right there. You nod. Feeling tingles going throughout your body.

That time, was now. You were packing up your things as everyone else leaved, you go over to her, but not as close. Which confused her slightly. "You wanted to see me Miss?" Her head tilts. "You can come closer. I don't bite." Her pretty smile was then to be seen, you reluctantly go closer. "I've noticed the past few lessons you've been distracted." Uh oh. "Are you sleeping ok? You so look a little tired recently. Everything alright?" The way she's checking up on you makes you want to pounce at her and kiss her beautiful lips. But your mind remains, trying to calm it down. And it was slightly true, you always struggled to sleep but that's just been a thing ever since you were a kid.

"It's ok, I'm fine just not a huge sleeper?" You admit, but there was a concerned look on her face. "As long as you're ok." You nod, suspecting the conversation was done going to leave, but she grabs your arm gently. You look at her, into her eyes. Your nerves coming right back. "I'm always here if you need anything yeah? If you need to talk." And there you were again, in a compelling trance. Her eyes were like a spell. Your heart rate picks up, at the feeling of her hand on your arm.

Little did you know, she saw it all. The way you looked at her didn't go unnoticed by the woman. And little did you know. This was just the start of something, so crazy.

It was now Friday, music class yet again. And you couldn't stop thinking about that interaction, the way her hand held onto your arm, her blue eyes casting a spell on your own. You even slept better that night as silly as that may sound. Maybe she was like a comfort? You walk in with Claud, going to your normal spot. Ms hottie (as you liked to call her in your head.) Was wearing something interesting today. It was another collared shirt, with faint lines. Paired with a sleevless jacket ontop. She had a cap on, and those sexy glasses. You loved whenever she wore them.

She admitted to the class that she didn't need them she just enjoyed wearing them. And your immediate thought was hot. So every time she wears them you freak out a little inside. You listened to her voice, speaking, singing. God she was everything. You had told Claudia about the other day and she just made you more delusional about it, saying...

"Oh my god, what if she likes you."

"She was so teasing you with the bite comment."

"She knows."

It had been driving you nuts, like she was a little person in your head repeating those sentences. And here you were yet again, not focusing. Ms O'Connell looks over at you but staying quiet this time round.

There was no doubt about how bored you were, but it wasn't long to go thankfully. For the class and the rest of the year. You honestly couldn't wait to be done for good, this was the last year. Once the lesson was over you go to pack up your things, when you hadn't realized your other books had fallen out of your bag. You sigh, going to bend down to your knees to pick them up. Everyone was leaving, and it was just you and her. You stand once you collect yourself and your things, turning around but only to be met with those beautiful blue eyes.

You gasp, had you of been expecting she was right behind you. "Sorry sweetheart, didn't mean to startle you." You flash her your sweet smile. "It's ok!" She looks over your body, slowly. Hm. Unusual. Unusually hot. "You seem to fade into space alot. Is that normal?" She asks. Referring to you being distracted earlier. Her eyes keep roaming around your body, landing on your eyes... Then your lips. Continuing that motion til she settles on your eyes. "A little yeah, big daydreamer." You laugh a little, nervously. "What do you tend to think about?"

You. You. You. Your brain chants. "Things." Her head casually tilts, but it goes straight to your head. Or maybe your aching core. Because that was way too hot. You swallow, audibly. A tiny smirk plays on her lips. "What's the matter?" She asks with slight concern but her smirk overpowers any of that sympathy. You felt like for the first time you couldn't speak to her, your words gone. "Hm?" She asks with such a velvety smooth tone. You wanted to whine, it's as if she knew what she was doing. Making you feel such a way. But that's impossible, right? You pluck up some confidence. When she gets closer to you before you could speak. "Kinda glad this is your last class for today." Your brows furrow. What? "W-why-?" You then ask, widening your eyes at how pathetic it came out.

"Because, I get to do something that I've been wanting to for soooo long." Your breath becomes quicker, unsteady. Similar to your legs. "Please." You breathe out, too into your own thoughts to care about how wrong this situation may be. In broad daylight. Her lips come softly onto your own, so incredibly slow. Your tongues eventually mingle together, tasting the sudden desire against one another. She pulls back going to swipe her thumb against your lip. Staring at them. You felt dizzy, weak. No way you just kissed her. "Things. I didn't know that was my new name." She looks into your eyes again. Darker, sexy. Fuck. You thought. Her hands reach for yours going to take you into her secluded office.

She shuts and locks the door. Approaching you. "I see the way you look at me angel, I'm very aware." You swallow, louder than the last time. "Just know those daydreams have you soaked huh?" She pouts slightly, in a mocking sense. Your head reluctantly nods. Looking into her eyes, she backs you up against the desk. "Then you must know just how much I daydream of you." Your eyes grew bigger, did she really just say that? No way... Her hands rest on your thighs, face leaning closer to yours. Moving slowly to your ear. "May I show you, pretty girl?" Your breath catches in your throat before you reply, breathlessly. "Please do." Her smirk returns.

Grabbing your hand again and leading you around to her chair, eventually getting you to sit on her lap. Your hands rest on her shoulders. Hers gliding up and down the sides of your body. "Just want a little taste of what I've been mindlessly thinking of, yeah?" Whatever the fuck that meant you didn't care, nodding nonetheless. Her hands then grip your hips, manhandling you so your cunt is directly over her thigh. The change makes you gasp slightly considering you hadn't expected that. Your hands grip her shoulders as your underwear is met with the rough material of her pants. Having your skirt semi out of the way. "Thin. Wet." She says inches away from your face. You bite your lip as you both hold eye contact. The way her glasses sit on her face making it 10x better.

This woman. She's driving you mental. Were you dreaming or something? She begins to slowly move you on her thigh, making your first noise come beautifully past your lips. "Good, you know how to use your voice." She says, averting her eyes to you and her thigh. "You gunna make a mess on ne sweet girl?" Your eyes shut as her movements quicken, feeling your brain fog over with a euphoric sensation. "M-more.." You blurt out. "More she says?" Billie chuckles deliciously. (Like at the end of guess 😵) "Angel wants more, how very sweet." You gulp. "P-please?" Your soft voice made her go nuts. She wanted so badly to ruin you right here right now. But she resisted for the time being. "And she asks sooo-" Her movements speed up, causing your eyes to pop, jaw agape. "-nicely."

Your head lulls back as you feel it coming, the way your clit was throbbing against her rapidly. Soon after feeling that tightness, only to be met with that sticky necter. All over her thigh. She hums in approval. Letting you fall against her, head landing in the crook of her neck. Your breathing slowly coming back to you as her hand rubs gently over the skin of your arm. "That's why you're my favorite."

After a minute or two you come back to reality. Not the right reality but your senses turn back on. She swiftly tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. Smiling at you gently, thinking for you second before taking her hat off and plopping it on your head. She looks at you so lovingly, now seeing that compassion in her eyes. It made you melt, softly putting your hands on her face. Hers latch delicately over your wrists, soon grabbing your hand and kissing it tenderly. This was wrong, not because of any age, but because she was your teacher. Did you really care tho? Hardly. Once you leave it's not like it'd matter. But oh fuck it felt too good.

"Go clean up darling, I'll see you on Wednesday." She then winks, as you leave the classroom. And all your mind could say was.

Oh.

My.

God.

Pt 2 will be out soon. ;)

[steddieas-shegoes]

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve and Robin are looking for a new job together when they come across the perfect place - the arcade. The kids are there all the time, and if the kids are there then Nancy Wheeler is probably going to be there to drop them off, pick them up, or maybe even to keep an eye on them - exactly Robin’s reason for wanting the job. For Steve, he’s excited to spend more time with the kids and secretly sneak them the change that gets jammed in the machines.

The only problem is getting through an interview with Eddie Munson, the arcade manager. Steve tries to talk Robin into flirting with him since they had talked at school a few times, but Robin insists she’s positive it wouldn’t work. So, she somehow convinces Steve to use his charms on him.

And that’s how Steve finds himself leaning over the counter at the back of the arcade, twirling a strand of Eddie Munson’s curly hair around his finger. He’s an absolute giggling mess, and Steve is positive that he’s got the job for him and Robin in the bag. Only, by the time he’s left and meeting Robin back in the car, he’s realized the only thing he got was Eddie’s number.

Shit. Robin smacks him on the arm, and yells at him, “That’s not what I meant by use your charms, dingus!” But Steve ensures her that he’ll just ask over the phone that night.

So, Steve calls Eddie that night after repeating over and over again, “Hey, I meant to ask if there’s an opening for two spots at the arcade for me and Robin.” He takes a deep breath and dials the number, but when he hears Eddie’s voice on the other line, all of his practice goes out the window. He doesn’t even mention the arcade, instead he finds himself chatting for hours and falling asleep by the phone after him and Eddie refused to be the first to hang up.

In the morning, there’s a whispered but insistent, “Steve!” that has Steve waking up and groaning into the phone. There’s a chuckle on the other line and then Eddie’s saying, “I have to get ready for work if you wanted to stop by today…”

Steve can hear the hopefulness in his tone and he quickly agrees and says a quick goodbye as they hang up together. His line is ringing moments later, and Steve quickly snatches it up. “Eddie?”

“So, that’s why your phone was busy all night and this morning,” Robin answers instead. “Did you get us a job?”

“No,” Steve says with a sigh. He had forgotten all about that again. “But I’m going to the arcade today in about an hour.”

“Pick me up on the way. There’s no way I’m letting you get distracted again by Eddie Munson,” Robin says and hangs up. Steve sighs but smiles as he thinks about his call with Eddie.

He keeps that smile until he’s picking Robin up who is scowling at him saying he’s unbelievable, but there’s a hint of a smile that makes Steve think that maybe she’s enjoying how things are developing between him and Eddie. She definitely takes joy in teasing him for how fast he’s falling after speaking to him for the first time less than twenty-four hours ago.

But then, they’re pulling into the lot and Robin immediately spots Nancy’s car which is giving her have a full-on panic. Steve ends up having to drag her inside arguing, “If you really want this job, you’ll have to learn how to interact with Nancy Wheeler.”

As soon as they’re through the front door, Nancy is spotting them and waving them over. Steve tells her that he has to speak to Eddie for a moment and ignores the panicked look Robin sends him as he walks off.

Only, when he gets to the counter, he notices Eddie struggling to keep up with a group of kids surrounding the counter. Steve easily scales it and zeroes in on the quietest kid to tell them what really happened. There’s a quick confession about how one of the kids had punched a game in anger and now it’s frozen.

Eddie mumbles something under his breath before he’s lifting the counter and stalking over to the game and easily knocking the side of it. It instantly unfreezes, and the kids are surrounding it again. Eddie sighs, and Steve quickly says to the kids, “What do you say to the poor worker you tortured?”

The gaggle of kids shout a quick thank you as one of them starts playing. Eddie shoots Steve a look and leads him back to behind the counter. “You know them?” Eddie asks.

Steve glances over to the group and shakes his head. “Never seen them in my life. But the kids over there,” he gestures towards where the kids are surrounding Max as she destroys Dig Dug, “I know them very well. They say I have some type of ‘mother hen abilities.’”

Eddie snorts and asks, “Do you want to help a ‘poor worker’ out and work here?”

Steve’s heart races as he remembers once again why he’s there. “If the cute manager will hire me and Robin.”

Eddie crosses his arms. “Flirting your way into a job?”

“Not anymore,” Steve admits with a big smile. He watches as Eddie processes the statement and gasps dramatically.

“You’re telling me that you initially flirted with me just to get the job?” Eddie asks and leans into Steve space.

“Maybe,” Steve says with a shrug as his eyes flicker to Eddie’s lips.

Eddie huffs and shakes his head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but you and Robin are hired. If you go on a date with me.”

Steve smiles. “I’ll accept as long as you know I would’ve asked you out if I got the job or not.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink as he looks away. He taps his fingers on the counter and breathes out quickly. He turns and sticks his hand out to Steve, “Deal.”

Steve shakes his head, then yells out to Robin, “We got the job!”

Robin cheers and runs over to hug him. She pulls away and turns to Eddie to say, “I hope you know he forgot to ask for a job twice because of you. Just keep that in mind when making our schedules,” she says with a wink.

“And make sure to schedule Robin whenever that group regularly comes in,” Steve says which has Robin shoving him and turning red.

“I’m going to seriously regret this,” Eddie says with a big smile.

“Absolutely,” Steve and Robin say at the same time.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your father’s nurse, Heather, doesn’t arrive until after noon. Your mother spends much of the morning waiting on her, wondering if something happened. The woman with the steely hair explains that she had to drive from several towns over. It doesn’t matter, you’re just happy to have her there.

Your dad remains despondent. Your mother frets and hovers as Heather’s voice carries through the old farmhouse. She enunciates and projects as she speaks to the husk sitting in the recliner. Your mother paces and as you peek in on the nurse trying to guide your father in a simple exercise, your heart knots and nearly breaks.

You fell outside, proclaiming to your mother that you’ll check the hen house for eggs. She doesn’t argue even though you already did so that day. You tramp out onto the porch and clatter down the stairs. Things change so quickly.

In the distance, you watch the tractor drawing a straight line across the fields. You shield your eyes from the sun and squint. Timothy steers the smaller of the machines closer by. It should be your father out there. He doesn’t belong inside, he’s no type of man to be so still.

You sigh and muster your courage. You go back inside and find your mother standing at the door of the front room. She watches Heather and your dad. He mimics her clumsily as she shows him what to do. He’s shaky and gives up with a harrumph. He’s never been the one to surrender.

“It’ll be okay,” your mother whispers.

“Ma,” you rub her back, “we should start dinner. The day’s half gone.”

She sniffs and nods, “you’re right, honey.”

You walk silently to the kitchen and start on the evening meal. Her special sweet and sour meatballs. The sauce is a family recipe and she serves the signature dish on white rice. The work will keep you both distracted.

🌾

Your mother helps your father to the table as you go out to get your brother and Walter. You find Timothy with a cigarette between his lips. You scowl.

“Don’t let ma see,” you warn him.

“Sorry, I… it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, I know,” you utter dully. “Just don’t smoke by the door.”

You leave him, searching around in confusion. Where’s Walter? Did he leave already? He swore he’d stay for dinner and it’s all your mother talked about as you cooked. You know she’s avoiding mentioning what’s on all your minds.

You walk along the front of the house and turn the corner, nearly colliding with Walter as he comes around. You cry out and laugh at yourself as you touch your chest. He doesn’t flinch.

“Sorry–” You begin.

“My fault,” he insists, “was just making sure the tractor’s read for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Tomorrow?”

“Still lots to be done,” he says casually.

“Right,” you agree, “er, dinner’s ready.”

“You cooked?” He wonders.

“I helped,” you say as you turn and walk ahead of him.

“I saw you. With the chickens,” he follows at half a step. He’s like your very own shadow.

“You did?”

“Tractor stalled,” he supplies. “I think I figured it out though.”

“Oh, that’s good,” you reply awkwardly. You’re not used to him speaking so much. Not to you. “I made dessert tho–”

As you crane to speak over your shoulder, simultaneously lifting a foot to climb the porch steps, your toe hits the wood. You cry out and throw up your hands, bracing for impact. You don’t hit the rigid zigzag, instead caught around the waist as you hover just above them. His strength is effortless as he has you bound up in his thick arm.

Again, Walter saves you from catastrophe. He pulls you back and rights you, brushing against you as he unhooks his arm. He clears his throat and runs his hand down the front of his shirt.

“You alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I…” you giggle and shake your head, “I’m so… all over the place right now. I’m sorry–”

“As long as you’re fine, no need to apologise,” he assures you.

“Ha, yeah,” you rub the back of your neck and look pointedly at the steps. You take each deliberately, “just needa watch where I’m going.”

He hums and trails after you. As you get to the door, he reaches around you to pull back the screen before you can. You thank him and go inside, stopping to slip off your flats as he unties his boots. The savoury scent of dinner draws you in.

You wait for him and lead him to the dining room. Your mother welcomes him in as she sits close to your father and feeds him. Timothy’s eyes flick back and forth between your parents and his plate fearfully.

“Pat,” Walter approaches the table with you, “Maddie,” he greets firmly, pulling out a chair. Before you can do the same, he gestures you into the seat before him.

“Oh, thanks…” you accept and sit down at your father’s other shoulder and Walter lowers himself into the next chair. You catch your mother’s gaze as she peeks over at you.

“Thank you for having me.”

“It’s our pleasure,” your mother insists, “really. You are helping us so much, dear. I can’t–” her voice crackles, “I can’t tell you how much it means.”

“Ma,” Timothy utters, embarrassment lining his tone.

“It’s the decent thing,” Walter says plainly.

“Would you like some meatballs?” You offer, “rice?”

“Please,” Walter nods and sits back as he watches you scoop a healthy serving of both onto his plate, “thank you.”

You recline and spoon out your own dinner. A lot less than his. You’re not very hungry. Your mom’s plate is barren as she focuses on your dad. Or you assume she does until you once more meet her eye. Her eyes drift over to Walter and back again.

“Very good,” Walter says after a bite.

“Oh, well, my daughter did all the hard work,” your mother preens.

Your furrow your brow at her lie. You are ever her helper. She told you what to fetch and to set the timer but she has to measure it all so precisely.

“Mmm, well, she was taught well, I’m sure,” Walter comments and shovels more into his mouth.

“I didn’t do that much,” you scoff as you slice into one of the large meatballs.

“Oh, of course you did, honey,” your mother chimes. “She’s a great cook, Walter, don’t let her fool you.”

You don’t argue. It isn’t the time and besides, it’s harmless. Just another distraction. She’s redirecting the attention so she doesn’t have to acknowledge the reality sitting right beside her. A few white lies are nothing compared to that.

[breyito]

Distraction: High School AU

Charles and Edwin start an…acquaintances with benefits kind of thing. They are not friends, but have been paired together for the full term in History class. Charles is one of the cricket star players and very cocky but still nice, if annoying. Edwin is the head of the debate team and the chess club. They are both very stressed due to their home lives and argue a lot, which ends with them snogging the daylights out of each other. They agree to keep doing it (as a stress relief) unless they find someone else they want to seriously date; but they are not together and there won’t be any feelings involved; that’s the deal. The rules are mostly at Charles’ insistence, even if Edwin writes them down. Of course, Charles falls for Edwin pretty much immediately, although he tries to hide it. (He fails miserably and it’s obvious to everyone except Edwin, of course.)

“You aren’t getting any ideas are you, Eds?” Charles asks, desperately wanting him to say ‘yes, actually’.

“Ideas?”

“About us, I mean.”

“What ‘us’? Charles, all you’ve ever been is a distraction. A pretty fit one, mind you, but just that.” Edwin smiles that smug smirk that makes Charles want to either punch him or snog him senseless and leave him panting. “You haven’t forgotten that, have you?”

Snippet:

“Would you finish tidying up quickly? I have other things to do.” Edwin says, putting on his shoes. 

“Like Monty?” Charles asks, snidely.

“Pardon me?”

“You heard me. Are you leaving to go fuck him?”

“What…? How is that any of your business?”

“Just answer me, Eds!” he pleads. 

“Even if I was, it -”

“You’re not, then?” Charles interrupts, grabbing his shoulders and locking his eyes onto Edwin’s.

“...no, I’m not.” Charles sighs in relief. “I mean, he asked me out, but-”

“He asked you out!?” Relief gone, Charles suddenly pins the other boy against the door, preventing him from leaving. “When?”

“I don’t know, Friday?”

“Friday? Today’s Wednesday! And you didn’t think to tell me?” Edwin shakes off Charles' grasp and quickly walks towards his backpack, turning around as he grabs it.

“Why would I tell you? The deal was that unless it was serious-”

“The deal? Really Edwin? The deal!?”

“Why are you even asking me questions if you’re never letting me answer them, Charles!?” the older boy yells, frustrated.

“Because I can’t believe you still think the deal means anything!” Charles yells back, also frustrated. He grabs his tennis ball from the desk and begins throwing it to the floor and back over and over.

“What are you talking about? Of course it means something; we’re still following the rules!”

“Are we, Ed? Really?”

“Of course we are!” Edwin says, throwing his backpack on the chair.

“No, we’re not! We haven’t followed the bloody rules in weeks!” yells Charles, throwing the ball with enough force that it ricochets off the ground and onto the closet and then, like it's inevitable, crashes into their miniature model and shatters all their work along with it. 

Complete silence reigns for a few beats, then.

“This is all your fault!” Charles accuses, rounding up on the other boy.

“My fault!? How could this possibly be my fault!?” Edwin asks shrilly, incredulously.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you!” Charles yells, yanking at his hair with both hands. “Because everything you do drives me crazy! Because every time you aren’t looking at me, or worse, if you are looking at Monty or Simon or bloody Thomas my blood boils.” He confesses. 

Charles’s eyes find Edwin’s, open wide as well as his mouth.

Speechless, huh, thinks Charles, never seen him like that.

“Charles-? Wha-what are you-” the other boy seems unable to finish a sentence. 

Charles walks up to him again, and this time he makes sure Edwin can’t look away. He pins him against the wall with a leg between his thighs and threads one hand through his hair while grabbing his chin with the other one. He gently caresses Edwin’s lower lip with his thumb before locking it under his chin. 

“Look at me,” he asks, when Edwin tries to escape by closing his eyes. “Ed, open those gorgeous eyes and look at me.” This time he orders it, and the older boy can’t help but obey. “There you are,” Charles murmurs, closer still, smiling “my pretty boy.” 

Edwin gasps at how the words make their mouths brush. He grabs Charles by the biceps and hangs on the fabric of his shirt by dear life. They stay there for a few moments, just sharing breaths, drowning in each other’s eyes.

Charles closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together. If Edwin thought escaping that gaze would make things easier he was sorely mistaken. The younger boy leaves the hand in his hair where it is, but starts moving the other one down, and his lips mouth his cheek until they reach his ear, to begin whispering.

“I can’t, for the life of me, stop needing you. I feel like I’m starving when I don’t have your kisses. Like I might just as well disappear if you’re not looking at me with those jewel tone eyes.” 

“My skin craves your touch so much that I become jealous of the books you treat so gently. My heart tries to jump out of my chest every time I hear you laugh, as if to join you.” Those lips go down and down and stop at his neck. “My mouth misses the curve of your neck, right here." He says, biting lightly. “My hands miss how your waist fits between them.” He continues, squeezing said waist hard, over already fading bruises hiding under the fabric. 

Charles lifts his head again and kisses Edwin deep and long, leaving no corner unconquered, no meagre breath behind. After, he touches noses with the older boy in an innocent bunny kiss so Ed will open his eyes again. “I am completely, irreversibly, gone on you. And I can’t begin to imagine life without you.”

[billyloomiswhore4]

Crazy for you | Chapter Two

Chapter two of this fic

Billy x reader (billy x stu x reader in later chapters) 

Warnings: complicated attraction (The reader has a thing for ghostface but doesn’t know Billy and Stu are ghostface.), perverted thoughts, perverse behavior, explicit but no smut yet, but soon i promise

You walk into school, your bag secured over your shoulder. Billy, Stu, Tatum and Randy are standing by the doors of the school, waiting for you.

“Hey!” Tatum is excited to see you. “We are having a movie night tonight at Stu’s place! Do you wanna come?”

Billy’s eyes hardened, he didn’t want you to be there. Being around you was proving all the more difficult, especially when Sydney and Tatum were getting you more comfortable in yourself. They had you wearing skimpier clothes, and prancing around all confident in them. It drove him crazy and he had to hide his hard on every time you were around. And Sidney wasn’t going to be there, so he couldn’t focus solely on her to distract himself. 

“Yeah you should definitely come.” Stu says before you can answer, wrapping his arm around Tatum. You smile, your eyes crinkling in the way that tells Billy it’s forced.  

“Sure.” You say, and Randy wraps an arm around your shoulder to lead you into the school. Everyone else follows. Billy presses his lips together in a fine line at the display of affection. 

It’s no secret that Randy has a thing for you. It seems you're the only person who's yet to notice the affection he shares only with you. It makes Billy’s blood boil, and he wants to rip Randy’s head off for even thinking about touching you. 

But when Billy’s fists clench, Stu sends him a look that says, ‘Not now.’

The rest of the school day comes and goes and before you know it, you’re sitting in Stu’s living room,  Billy sits next to you, but he seems tense. Maybe even upset about something. Stu and Tate are in the kitchen arguing over how long to cook the popcorn. Stu is insisting they put it in for a little longer than the recommended time, but Tatum disagrees saying they should put it in for a shorter amount of time.

Randy was talking but it seems that Billy isn’t paying attention, which is unusual considering how he usually pays extra attention to detail. Randy gets up to go to the bathroom and you use that opportunity to try and talk to Billy.

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask softly, and to him it’s like the voice of an angel speaking to him before they take him to heaven. He doesn’t necessarily believe in heaven, but you make him want to believe. He smiles but it doesn’t last long, which you take notice of considering he hasn’t smiled much since his parents split.  

“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little tired.” Billy was always sweet to you, even if you weren’t that close. Though recently he’s been spending a lot more time around you. You would have thought it was weird if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve been spending time with Stu, so by default you kind of have to hang out with him. 

When you first moved to Woodsburough, he thought you were going to ruin his plan. Everything he’d spent months figuring out with Stu. But he soon realized you were a little dumb, well not in school wise, but when it came to people. You wouldn’t be able to recognize a killer even if he was holding a knife to your throat. Not to mention you are incredibly naive, he could spin a single lie to you and you would believe him, no matter how outlandish it was. 

He found it rather cute, even if you sadly weren’t the average ‘final girl’ but it didn’t matter because he would ensure that he had you in every way possible. 

Before you could ask him if he was sure, Stu and Tatum walk back into the living room. Billy is sitting next to you at the far end of the couch. And Stu sits at the other end, and Tatum sits down in his lap. 

The movie goes rather smoothly, Randy returns from the bathroom and Stu goes to get the popcorn. Everyone sits down and watches the movie. 

“Stu.” Billy calls for Stu’s attention over the loud volume of the movie. 

“Yeah?” Stu’s eyes never leave the TV. 

“Do you have any more beer in the garage?” 

“I think so, but grab me one while you're back there.” 

“Me too!” You, Randy and Tatum say at the same time. 

“Why don’t you help him, Y/n,” Stu says, eyes meeting yours. 

The thought of being all alone in the garage with you drives Billy crazy with inappropriate thoughts. And he sends Stu a glare, Stu knows Billy can hardly control himself around you. So why is he sending you both to the garage together? Stu sends Billy a look, and Billy nods in his direction. 

You stand, and so does Billy. You walk to the garage and Billy follows. He watches as you bend down to grab the beers out of the fridge. Your ass presses against your shorts, they barely fit you and are far too short for his liking. 

It makes his mind wander to all the things he could do to you. He could come up behind you, and you would turn around to face him. You would gasp, feeling his hard on pressing against your stomach. He would take you, right then and there, in every way possible. 

“Billy?” He almost groans at the sound of your innocent voice saying his name. “Hello, earth to Billy?” 

That pulls him out of his fantasy. You’re standing in front of the fridge, holding several beers in your arms and it looks like you’re struggling to carry them all. 

“Can you help me?” You laugh and heat spreads on through his body at the sound of your voice. 

He moves towards you, grabbing the beers and setting them on the counter. “What are you-” You begin but are interrupted by Billy grabbing your waist and wrapping his arms around you. He rests his head in your neck, and you could have sworn he was smelling you. “Billy.” You attempt to push him away, worried about what Sydney would think if she saw the two of you like this. 

“What are you doing?” You sound so uncomfortable, it makes his dick twitch in his pants. He likes having you like this, uncomfortable but unable to do anything about it, unable to do anything against him. He loves being stronger than you, able to do whatever he pleases to you.

You attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he grabs your wrists, and pins them behind your back. You wonder if this behavior is because of how many beers he's had. Maybe he just mistook you for Sidney. You think of every possible reason for him to be acting this way. 

“Billy.” You whine in pain at the angle he has your arms. He groans at your whine of his name, and his dick twitches again. 

He suddenly remembers the plan, and how he could have potentially ruined everything just by behaving that way. He pulls himself off of you, and he’s panting. He got himself all worked up. You just stare at him, eyes wide and confused. 

“I- I’m sorry.” He pants out, realizing how he could have just fucked everything up. “I don't - don’t know what came over me.” He quickly turns and basically runs out of the garage. You stand there confused for a moment, before running after him to tell him it's okay. But when you come out of the garage, everyone is staring at you. 

“What happened?” Tatum speaks and Stu stands behind her.  

“I don’t know.” you say. “Did he leave?” You ask, kind of sad that you couldn’t tell him you forgave him. 

“Yeah he just ran out of the house, yelling that he was walking home.” Stu says. 

You sigh quietly. “Tate, can you give me a ride home?”

“Yeah of course.” 

______

chapter three?

tag list: @comfortcharactercraze @sage4marvel @nicciekawegosblog @nothingbutcloud @imobsessedreader @adaydreamaway08 @buzzybee-26

[cherryredcheol]

domestic bliss

tldr: seungkwan just wants to live with you (this is pure fluff)

a/n: happy belated boo!

seungkawn wandered into the kitchen from the living room, wrapping his arms around you from behind and placing a gentle kiss under your ear, “need any help?”

you shivered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin, continuing to stir the stew on your stovetop, “no, boo. i just need to finish cooking, then everything will be ready.” 

you couldn’t see it but seungkwan beamed at your words. he was so excited for his two best friends to come over. vernon and chan had met you plenty of times, you and seungkwan had been a package deal since the moment you started dating two years ago. but they had never been here. in your apartment, which seungkawn viewed as his second home, his safe place. 

although it wasn’t his home, there were traces of him everywhere in your apartment. his slippers always waiting for him at the door for when he arrived, pictures of the two of you on the walls, his favorite flavor of ramen in the pantry, a drawer full of his things in your bedroom. he didn’t live here but you were here, so he was too. 

“boo?” you turned around in his arms, looking away from the stove for a minute.  “can you get out bowls and chopsticks for everyone?” and when you looked at him with those soft eyes, who was he to say no? 

“sure.” he placed one last soft kiss on your cheek, loving the way the skin instantly heated under his touch. he decided not to tease you about it but instead let you go to turn to the cabinet where you kept the bowls. he was setting up the table when he heard the front door to your apartment open and booming laughter filled the small space. 

“yah!” he cried after following the sound and seeing his friends standing in your doorway, “you let yourself into my partner’s home without even a knock? how rude!” vernon and chan looked sheepish after his scolding. 

“hyung, we’re not trying to be rude. they told us to let ourselves in!” chan explains, pointing to you as you walk through the door to greet them and figure out why seungkwan was yelling. 

you giggle and hug each of the boys telling them it was fine they let themselves in. “i made kimchi jjigae for dinner and it’s just finished so come eat it before it gets cold.” your turn to walk away and the boys follow, unable to resist a home cooked meal.

after everyone had enough food, you began cleaning up the table, insisting on doing the dishes so the boys could hang out. the movie playing on the tv was pretty good, seungkwan was distracted though, thinking about how much he loved that his two best friends were in your apartment for the first time, and hopefully not the last. he loved that you had welcomed them into your home with open arms and treated them so kindly. 

“hyung? why don't you live here?” vernon pulled seungkwan from his thoughts and the question made him blush. truthfully he didn’t know why he didn't live here. he supposed it was because you never asked and he didn't want to be too forward. he knew you liked your personal space and didn't want to intrude. 

“yeah, seungkwan. why don’t you live here?” you repeated vernon’s question entering the living room and sitting next to him on the couch. he immediately pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around you on instinct. 

“you never asked!” he argued back, blushing a deep shade of red. 

“i gave you a key and said ‘bring your stuff here.’ how much more clear can i be? when you only brought a few things over i thought that meant you weren’t ready to live with me so i never pushed it but i’m curious.” you were mostly teasing him but you did want to know why he didn’t want to move in, considering he spent most nights at your place anyway. 

“i didn’t know that’s what you meant!” he was flustered now, not expecting to have this conversation tonight or with his members around. 

he was still blushing when you turned to him and said, “seungkwan, move in with me?

it was the easiest answer seungkwan had ever given, “yes”

[tantei-chan01]

Did you know Branch was originally going to be the one Velvet and Veneer had kidnapped? That would be extremely traumatic for him in the mute au since he had just gotten to the point he felt comfortable even singing in front of other people and not running for cover whenever Bridget or Gristle comes by and suddenly MORE giants are kidnapping him and trying to use his talents specifically because he started singing again.

I like to think in that circumstance, Bridget and Gristle would postpone the wedding to support Poppy, but John Dory would somehow still crash some important even they were a part of, that Poppy would still insist on going with John to save Branch and probably be joined by more than a few guests, maybe even Bridget while Gristle stays back (someone has to watch the kingdom and while he may be bros with Branch, he also knows his first Troll friend is justifiably nervous around Bergans and probably gonna have a bad time if he sees him), and the group would not have as many jokes about Brozone still thinking Branch is a baby because A) he isn't there and B) his friends are and while they are all there for teasing their most introverted friend and learning about his past they cannot get over the fact Branch had been left alone for over 20 years with no family and suddenly they discover he had 4 older brothers who all presumably had jeut up and left

I did know about that and agree it would have gone much differently. Mr. Dinkles would have sent some critters to Mount Rageous to delay the performance for as long as possible.

Poppy would enlist the bounty hunters to help them track down the brothers. First, finding John Dory thanks to Delta's help. Him being horrified at the fact of his brother's kidnapping just as he was packing up to go see him and at the fact that he was also traumatized into losing his voice and turning gray and now this will just make it worse. Luckily he has clues that helps the group find the others.

Floyd would be performing in a small town when they find him. He immediately agrees to go with and feels guilty on what he's been informed about.

Bruce immediately jumps to save the baby of the family, which Brandy encourages and beats himself up for not thinking of going back for Branch after he found Vacay Island.

Clay can immediately tell what's going on after a few words and immediately packed a rescue bag, refusing to leave his brotherbehind again. Viva tries to keep them from leaving, but Poppy, who's already stressed with worry, shuts that down and tells her that sometimes you have to do scary things if it means protecting someone.

They make it to Mount Rageous, where the critters successfully delay the performance for another day, they find out where they live and sneak into the bedroom to find Branch. He's already lost a large amount of talent and can barely pull himself up. The brothers immediately hug the prison and express worry.

Crimp walks into the room and tries to tell Velvet and Veneer when the bounty hunters restrain her. They convince her to help them expose the two fakes of their crime. The brothers try harmonizing again, but it fails due to unresolved issues. Then Cooper asks if it really was necessary for them to be perfect?

He explains that it was something Branch always told Poppy and others trolls when they stressed out about it. He always says that perfection doesn't exist and that being yourself is enough. Velvet and Veneer walk in and immediately try to capture the trolls. The bounty hunters and critters distract them long enough for Poppy to start singing.

Everyone starts singing together and manages to break the prison, Branch landing in Floyd's arms, clearly exhausted and in bad shape but alive. Bridget bursts in the room with the authorities, Velvet tries to argue that they have no proof only for Crimp to reveal that she had livestreamed the entire thing. Veneer willingly gives himself up to the police while his sister fights the entire process.

They head back to Pop Village to get Branch checked out. Along the way, the brothers finally have a much needed talk with each other and agree that being separated for so long affected them in many ways and decided to work on their family relationship. With the help of licensed professionals.

[yukyuki]

Mornings Like This- GR’63

summary- a lazy yet lovely morning in the Russell house 🩵

warnings- minor things kissing, hugging, slightly suggestive, family, dad George ☁️

a/n- I believe this is so CUTE !! It’s a “thank you” bonus for those waiting on my Charles ff. ☕️

The rays on sun started to appear through the cracks of the curtains making you wake up. Looking up to the clock on your night table it read 7:05 am it was later than usual, and today wouldn’t be a busy day. George was finally home after the Qatar Grand Prix and nothing was better than a cozy morning in bed and spend time together when your twin boys wake up.

Speaking of which you heard soft sounds and baby talking through the baby monitor. Smiling softly you get out of George’s embrace and peck his lips letting him sleep in and get the rest he deserved.

Walking out quietly into the hallway you make your way to the boys room and open the door only to be received by the two little ones crawling up to your arms. Making you giggle you kiss both of their little faces gently and pick them up.

When you three get to the living room you turn on the tv to Bluey as it quickly catches their attention and get their diapers changed. Letting them play for a bit you go to the kitchen preparing some coffee for yourself and giving you some time to plan for breakfast. Drinking some of your coffee you start preparing some of fruits and bring out ingredients for pancakes and bacon.

While setting the fruit bowl to the side you start making the pancake batter with your hands a bit messy you hear Theo start to cry making your mommy senses to look towards the living-room then it hits you, you forgot the bottles!

“oh god…I’m so sorry baby hold on!” yelling in a soft voice you rush to grab the bottles and get their milk ready and a pair of strong arms wrap around you making you squeal.

“ah! George!” you exclaimed hitting his arm gently closing the bottles quickly.

“hold on love I need to give the babies their bottles” you say moving away but he pulls you back taking the bottles from you kissing you gently.

“don’t worry about that beautiful leave that to me…did you change them already?” he asked gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear making me smile.

“yes they just need their milk…breakfast is almost done as well” you say kissing his cheek thanking him before going back to your cooking.

————

Minutes later you walk in the living room seeing Theo next to George whose feeding him and Oliver was on his chest drinking his bottle all three boys watching Bluey. Going to them slowly your hands land on George’s shoulders whispering boo in his ear making him chuckle.

“Oh darling you got here on the best part” he said with his British accent filling the room joking about the cute kids show as he leaned his head back puckering his lips making your blush.

“There’s distracted love” he said winking at you before placing a delicate kiss to your amazing husband.

“well I’m sorry to interrupt your show but breakfast is ready” you said smiling picking up Oliver kissing his nose.

“oh you’re so handsome my little prince” you squealed happily making Oliver giggle as George followed with Theo in his arm into the kitchen. Sitting at the table you are feeding the twins who are on their baby chairs and have strawberries all over their cheeks. Smiling and giggling with the babies you feel George’s large hand on your waist making you turn around as he fed you a piece of bacon.

“eat love…it’ll get cold” he said switching Oliver to his lap helping him to finish his food.

————

Finally the twins fed and all of you dressed for the day you two leave them in their play area as George went with you to help you clean up, even though you insisted that he should rest after an exhausting race he argued that as long as he spent time with you it would help him gain back his strength, to which you rolled your eyes and he shut you up with a romantic kiss.

“George…” you started while wiping the table he hummed while putting the dirty dishes in the dish washer before going to you wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I think we should go out for a walk to the park down by the neighborhood” you said looking up at him giggling gently playing with his expensive watch leaning on him, softly inhaling his cologne. This man just smelled so good.

“I know love, we should do that…” he said seeing the excitement in your eyes.

“okay! I’ll get the babies ready!” you say about to leave but he holds your hand pulling you against his body looking down at you.

“I get what I want later right?” he said teasingly making you hit his arm gently.

“you know there will interruptions” you answer walking away to grab the twins. As he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he couldn’t het enough of your teasing.

————

As you held the twins hands out the door you help them stand as they were already starting to walk. Looking back at the house you noticed George hasn’t come out.

“now where is your daddy?” you ask the babies who just giggled and that’s when you hear the garage door lifting up seeing George pushing out a mini size mercedes making you laugh.

“oh baby where did you get that!? it’s adorable!” you said Theo ran to the car curiously looking at it.

“Right? Present from their Uncle Lewis” George said as you widened your eyes.

“oh god of course he did…remind me to bring the babies to a race so they can thank him” you said bringing Oliver closer as you both got them in the car. Both babies sitting in the car you and Russell walked from behind them happy that the car was slow and easy for the babies to use. George had to help them here and there but the Russell babies were smart drivers they learned it from their daddy of course.

“hmm I think we got the future drivers here my love” you said softly as you walk next to him interlocking your arm with his leaning your head on his shoulder.

“you’re right love! I’ll make sure to teach them if they actually become interested” George said as he walked to the park and you snapped a couple pictures of the babies and daddy of course. You made sure to capture any moment as the beautiful family that you were and just enjoying time with George made it so much better. Most of the time it was just you and the twins since George was busy on his formula one career but you both still managed to be together, which only made the love between you two stronger.

————————————————— the end. 🩵

[kookiesbuckethat]

he makes you insecure

Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.5k

<series masterlist>

taglist: @awinkies @wedarkacademia @yiyi4657 @astralandcosmos @scuzmunkie @mooonlitstars @manchuria @joondiary @ygimsgw @royallyjjk @yoongititss @mwitsmejk @kitty-kair @blissedjoon @vrittivsanghavi @kimahnjung98​

tw: unhealthy eating habits, bad body image

nothing too detailed but just bc this can be a very sensitive topic to some!! that being said, im not trying to romanticize unhealthy eating habits or anything like that. as someone who has struggled with these things, fics like these hit a little close to home. but that’s what makes them all the more comforting to me and i hope this fic will have the same effect for anyone that also may also relate. plz be kind to yourself and your body, it’s beautiful and does so much for u!! lots of love, take care 💜💜

Coming off the stage, the soreness of Yoongi’s shoulder becomes harder to ignore as the high of finishing yet another successful concert starts to wear off. After the long hours of practice and leaving it all on the stage, it all seems to catch up to him all at once as he keeps his head down to hide his grimace.

As soon as Yoongi steps foot backstage, he’s immediately knocked back a few steps as you run into his chest. “You were amazing!” you breathe out as you wrap your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a warm hug. Wrapping his good arm around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, Yoongi grits his teeth and breathes in your comforting scent to help him bear the pain.

Handing him a water bottle, you gently brush his sweaty hair away from his forehead as he gulps down the cool liquid. “You work so hard,” you tell him with a gentle smile, “I’m so proud of you.” For a while, the pain in Yoongi’s shoulder is pushed to the back of his mind in your presence. He practically purrs as you gently play with his hair, closing his eyes and subconsciously leaning into your hand.

Basking in your attention, Yoongi’s moment of peace is interrupted when the maknaes come running over, wanting your praise as well. Your attention is stolen away from Yoongi as you turn to the maknaes, showering them with compliments and giving all of them pats on the head. No longer having your touch to distract him from the pain, Yoongi brings a hand to his shoulder and rubs at it while nobody’s looking.

When you all arrive back at the hotel, you decide to get started on dinner while they go on V-live to talk to ARMY. Just as you set the last plate on the table, they all burst into your and Yoongi’s hotel room. “Mmmh!” Jungkook exclaims, “It smells good!” You giggle as his nose guides him to the food, his eyes going wide when they land on the table.

Taking a seat, Hoseok looks up at you in amazement, “Wah, it looks so delicious!” Laughing as you wave off all their compliments, you suddenly feel an arm wrap around you as Yoongi comes up behind you, giving you a slight squeeze in thanks before sitting down next to you. Thanking you one last time, they all dig in, moans of satisfaction filling the room. 

When everyone finishes up, you refuse all their help to wash the dishes. “You all worked so hard today, the least I could do is wash the dishes!” you insist. “But you already cooked-” Seokjin starts to argue but you interrupt him. “No buts! Out of the kitchen! You guys need to rest,” you stand your ground, pushing him out of the kitchen and towards the door.

Sighing in defeat, they thank you one last time before wishing you goodnight and heading back to their rooms. Closing the door behind them, you walk back into the kitchen only to find Yoongi by the sink. “And what do you think you’re doing?” you ask, an accusatory tone in your voice as you place your hands on your hips and frown at him. “Washing the dishes?” he answers as he reaches for the gloves.

You grab the gloves before Yoongi can, defensively holding them behind your back and out of his reach. “When I said you guys need to rest, that included you too,” you tell him, a slight pout to your lips and a small furrow in your brow that he found absolutely adorable. Knowing better than to argue with your stubborn nature, Yoongi raises his hands in defeat as he backs away from the sink.

Letting out a small “Hmph,” as you put the gloves on, you turn your back to him as you start washing the dishes. But you freeze when you feel his lips press a kiss to your temple. Yoongi’s not the most affectionate guy as he prefers to show his love in other, quieter ways, so moments like these always catch you off guard.

“Cute,” he breathes out as he chuckles at your blushing cheeks and ears. “Hurry up and go shower already,” you mumble, willing your face and ears to stop burning. With a grin on his face, Yoongi finally leaves you to wash the dishes. Listening to his retreating footsteps, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. No matter how long you’ve been together, Yoongi always manages to surprise you and make your heart flutter.

Flicking on the lights, Yoongi steps into the hotel bathroom, closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, he takes a moment to brace himself before attempting to undress. Letting out a hiss of pain as he raises his arm, a few curses escape Yoongi’s lips as he pulls his shirt over his head. Dropping it onto the floor, he lets out a breath of relief. The hardest part was over.

Discarding the rest of his clothes, Yoongi steps into the shower. He rolls his shoulder as the hot water streams down his body, relaxing all his muscles. He realizes that without your comforting presence, the pain in his shoulder is more apparent than ever, and he can only hope you finish doing the dishes soon so you can hold him in your arms.

Your heart has calmed down by the time you dry the last plate, placing it back in the cupboards before hanging the towel back in its place. You enter the bedroom just as Yoongi exits the bathroom, lazily rubbing at his hair with a towel. You silently reach out to him, asking him for the towel. Placing it in your hand, his head drops forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder as you gently dry his hair.

Nearly falling asleep with how exhausted and relaxed he is, he lets out a whine and wraps his good arm around your waist when you start to pull away. “Yoongi,” you giggle when he pulls you flush against him, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He was being more affectionate than usual today, not that you were complaining, but you had to shower. 

“What’s with you today?” you ask curiously as you pull away enough to look at his face. A groan is the only answer you get, pulling a breathy laugh out of you. “I have to shower Yoongi,” you tell him as he reluctantly lets you go, “I’ll only be a few minutes.” Walking over to the bed, Yoongi closes his eyes as he lays down, counting the seconds until you return to him.

Coming out of the bathroom freshly showered, you spot Yoongi laying on the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes. A mischievous smile forms on your face as you quietly creep up to his side of the bed. Jumping onto his unsuspecting form, you giggle as you hear Yoongi let out an “oof,” at the impact. “You’re so heavy,” he groans, weakly trying to shove you off with one arm.

Your smile falters for a second at his comment, but you’re quick to brush it off. Yoongi’s always been a complainer, and you take his seemingly half-hearted attempt at pushing you off as a sign that he doesn’t really mean it. You laugh as you lay your head on his shoulder, wanting to indulge in the affectionate mood he seems to be in today. 

“Seriously, get off. You’re crushing me,” he says coldly, all the playfulness gone from his voice. It feels like you’re hit with a bucket of cold water, scrambling to get off of Yoongi as if his touch burned you. His eyes are shut tight as his face turns into a grimace, quickly turning away so you can’t see his pained expression. But he also misses the way your face crumples, tears quickly welling in your eyes.

You stare at him, wide-eyed as he leans on one elbow, turned away from you so all you can see is his back. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine the angry expression he must be wearing if he can’t even look at you. Yoongi was never the type to yell, so you know you must have really messed up to reach the end of Yoongi’s usually never-ending patience.

In reality, Yoongi is holding his shoulder with one hand, biting back a curse because of the shooting pain in his shoulder. He isn’t mad at you, he could never be. And he would never say such a thing so carelessly, he wasn’t even fully aware of what he said because, in the moment, the only thing he could focus on was the pain in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know-” you cut yourself off, not wanting to even finish the sentence. I didn’t know I was that heavy. You were comfortable in your own skin, especially because Yoongi never failed to make you feel loved. But body image is a fragile thing that can be broken just like that if you’re not careful with your words.

Suddenly feeling sick, you clamber off the bed and run into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you can’t stop the tears that start falling from your eyes as you suddenly see a million things you don’t like about the reflection in the mirror.

When the pain finally starts to subside, Yoongi rolls back onto his back, letting out a breath of relief. He patiently waits for you to return to him, snapping in and out of consciousness as he tries his best to stay awake and wait for you.

Splashing your face with cold water and taking a few breaths to calm yourself down, you do your best to avoid looking in the mirror as you make your way out of the washroom. When you climb back into bed, Yoongi already has his arms open, waiting for you to snuggle into his chest like you always do. But this time, you don’t. You lay about an arm’s distance away-which is much too far for Yoongi’s liking-with your knees pulled to your chest. 

Yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion at your strange behaviour and he can’t shake the feeling deep in his gut that something is wrong. But he’s exhausted from the concert and knowing that he has another one to perform the next day, Yoongi decides to leave you be for now, not because he doesn’t care enough but because that’s simply his nature. He never makes you feel rushed or pressured with his infinite patience, always willing to wait as long as you need. 

As the days go on and the concerts continue, it’s become routine for everyone to crash at your room for dinner, not that you minded. They never failed to make sure you knew how much they love and appreciate your cooking, and watching them enjoy your food just warms your heart.

Yoongi takes his usual seat next to you at the dining table, grabbing some food and cutting it up for you before placing it in your bowl. It was his was one of his silent forms of love to make sure you’re eating well. But your appetite has been lost ever since Yoongi made that comment about your weight, and suddenly the food doesn’t look that good to you anymore.

Yoongi’s hurt and a little offended when you take the pieces of meat he cut up for you and place them into Jungkook’s bowl. But he’s more concerned about how much of it you’re actually eating compared to how much you’re giving to Jungkook. Yoongi’s very attentive to you and your needs and he has a pretty good idea of how much you usually eat, but you haven’t even eaten half of what you usually do.

Yoongi watches you out of the corner of his eye as you place your chopsticks down, signifying that you were done eating even though there was still food left in your bowl. “Not hungry?” he mumbles as he raises his eyebrows in question. You shake your head as you give him a small smile. “I was snaking while making dinner,” you lie smoothly, chucking sheepishly to make the act convincing.

But your answer doesn’t ease Yoongi as much as it should because he can feel that something is off. Not wanting to press in front of everyone, he accepts your answer for now but he takes note of how the amount of food you eat becomes less and less.

Arriving at the hotel after the final concert, you all head up to your room as usual where the guys will crash in the living room while you head into the kitchen to start cooking. But you’re pleasantly surprised to find the table already filled with food-you’re favourite food-when you walk in through the door. “You’ve worked hard too and we wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us,” Namjoon explains.

“You guys didn’t have to,” you tell them, touched by their actions. “But we wanted to!” Hoseok insists. “Now come on,” Seokjin says as guides you to the table, pulling out a chair and gently pushing down on your shoulders to make you sit down, “Let’s eat. Yoongi got all your favourites.”

Jungkook and Jimin run to get the kitchen to grab plates and utensils while the rest open all the food on the table. You excitedly kick your legs under the table, your eyes practically sparkling as you excitedly look at all the food. Pulling out the chair next to you, a small smile appears on Yoongi’s face as he watches you fondly.

But his expression melts into one of confusion when your face suddenly seems to fall and all your excitement comes to a halt. “Is something wrong?” he asks gently as he accepts a bowl from Jungkook and places it in front of you. Your head snaps up to meet his eyes, not realizing that he was watching you. “Oh, no, everything’s great! Thank you for this!” you shake his worries off, plastering a smile on your face.

The food smelled and looked so delicious and you were just so excited to eat all of it. But then you remembered that you were trying to lose some weight and you couldn’t eat as much as you wanted to. And of course, Yoongi noticed that one moment you let your expression fall.

You begin to sweat under Yoongi’s intense stare, feeling like he can read you like an open book. But then he’s suddenly looking away, reaching for your favourite foods and placing them in your bowl. “Eat, you must be hungry,” he says simply. Picking up your chopsticks, you bring a piece up to your mouth, chewing slowly and making sure to savour each bite as a lone tear escapes your eye, but you’re quick to wipe it away before anyone can see.

“I’m so full,” Hoseok says as he leans back in his chair, patting his stomach. “Me too, Hyung,” Jimin agrees, pushing his bowl away because he can’t eat anymore. Jungkook happily takes Jimin’s bowl and finishes what he couldn’t, making sure no food goes to waste. You all watch fondly as the maknae eats to his heart’s content, making an angry face because of how good the food is. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing your loved ones eating well.

“We better start packing, we have an early flight tomorrow,” Seokjin says as he stands from his chair, starting to gather all the plates and bowls. “Don’t worry about that,” you say as you stand from your chair as well, holding your hand out to take the plates from Seokjin, “You guys go pack, I’ll clean the dishes.” 

But he holds the plates up and out of your reach as he shakes his head at you, “You’ve done the dishes every time, let us do it for once.” You’re about to protest when Hoseok takes the dishes from Seokjin and heads for the kitchen, “It’ll be done faster if we all help anyway.” Pouting in defeat, you’re about to follow them into the kitchen when Yoongi gently grabs your hand and pulls you away into the living room.

Wordlessly, he lays on the couch before pulling you down to lie on his chest. Panic washes over you as you try to keep your weight off of him but your arms start to grow tired so you attempt to get off of him. But this only causes Yoongi to wrap his arms around you tighter, pulling you close until there’s not a centimetre of space left between you two. “Relax,” he tells you, gently stroking your back to try and help you calm down.

Reluctantly laying your head on his chest, your heartbeat slows as your heart starts to beat in sync with Yoongi’s calm one. You listen to his heartbeat in one ear and the chaos going on in the kitchen with the other. You can hear Seokjin and Hoseok yelling as the maknaes laugh, no doubt starting a water fight while washing the dishes. “Come on! How old are you?” you can’t help but giggle when you hear Namjoon whine. When they finally finish, they let you know the dishes are done and that they’re leaving, wishing you two goodnight before you hear the door shut. 

You and Yoongi lay in peaceful silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence after such a busy time. Suddenly, Yoongi’s deep voice rumbles through his chest. “You’ve gotten lighter,” he simply observes, giving you an opening to let out whatever’s on your mind, but only if you want to. It’s a simple but caring gesture and before you know it, your eyes are brimming with tears.

Hiding your face in his chest, you let your tears fall and soak into his shirt as he simply holds you. “I just wanted to lose some weight,” you admit, voice watery. You hadn’t realized how much it was taking a toll on you until it all became too much for you to hold in. “Why would you want to do that?” he asks gently, not in a way of judgment, but simply wanting to understand you.

You shrug your shoulders at his question, “You said I was heavy.” Yoongi’s heart clenches at how small you sound and he curses himself for being so careless with his words. You were his light on his darkest days, his safe space, and just your comforting touch could wash all his pains away. You were his everything, and Yoongi will never forgive himself for making you feel like anything less, for letting you forget just how much he loves you; all of you.

He tightens his hold around you, hoping the action will help you understand just how precious you are to him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, “I never meant it like that and I shouldn’t have been so insensitive.” You shake your head at his apology as you snuggle further into him to communicate your forgiveness. Yoongi was the softest and gentlest person you’ve ever met. He’s never once raised his voice at you and you know he would never say anything with malicious intent. 

“Don’t go on a diet. I don’t want a single gram of you leaving this Earth,” he says gently. “So cheesy,” you mumble into his chest. “Whatever,” he grumbles as he sits up to hide his burning cheeks, “Come on, I was able to grab some of your favourites before Jungkook could eat them.”

And you can’t say no as he secures his hands underneath you before standing up and carrying you to the kitchen where he places you on the counter. A fond smile forms on your face as you watch Yoongi move around the kitchen, silently heating up and plating your food with care. He may not be a man of many words, but you’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words and Yoongi’s actions spoke volumes.

You’re so enamoured by him that you only snap out of your trance when Yoongi comes to stand between your legs, his large, warm hands gently rubbing up and down the tops of your thighs. When Yoongi sees that you’re back with him, he picks up a piece of food with some chopsticks, holding his hand underneath as he lightly blows on it. 

You accept the piece he holds out for you, letting out a sound of contentment and happily kicking your legs as you finally allow yourself to really enjoy it.  Yoongi’s heart is full as you happily eat every bite he holds out for you until the bowl is empty. “I’m so full,” you breathe out as he places the bowl down. “Good,” he says as he once again wraps your legs around his waist and lifts you off the counter, “The best time to go to sleep is when you’re full.” 

Carried back to the bedroom by Yoongi, you quickly fall asleep with your heart and stomach full, and Yoongi’s arms full of you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[fictionfawn]

thoughts about abby anderson bc i've been having really bad brain rot (some water polo player!abby)

abby isn’t the biggest fan of large displays of PDA, but she does this thing where she just hovers around you. she never strays too far away from you, so she’s just kind of lurking lol. when you’re walking together, she’ll either put her hand on your shoulder or your back and subtly guide you. (tbh i also do that. gotta treat my babygirl right fr). i don't think you'll hold hands too often, mostly because her hands are kind of sweaty due to her naturally running quite hot. if you try, she'll laugh and say, "don't. my hands are sweaty." like ok? just wipe them off girly, i wanna hold your hand. i think she likes linking arms, though. she eats it up when you hold onto her arm and cling onto her, she loves it. despite not liking pda, she takes every opportunity to subtly touch you. brushing arms when you're walking, touching thighs because you're sitting so close to each other, one hand on your knee, stuff like that. she's seriously borderline clingy, but she's always so gentle. she's so cute omg

i think that abby likes to be pampered. specifically, i think she likes it a lot when you play with her hair. brush it, wash it and tie it when she’s too tired to do it herself. start running your fingers through her hair and massage her scalp and she’s immediately putty in your arms. she’ll most likely insist on doing it herself, but if you push back she’s not going to argue further lol. do what you must, she’ll enjoy it

when it comes to pet names, i think she'll only really use them when there's no one else around. however, occasionally there are times where it'll just slip out. i don't know why, but i think she'll call you bug pfft. she'll come up from behind saying, "there you are, bug. i've been lookin' for you," as she kisses your temple and you can feel her smiling mhmm. if she's taller than you, she likes to rest her chin on your shoulder. wait omg, imagine her calling you trouble. but lorddd she'd use so many nicknames, i think. babe, honey, hun, sweetheart etc etc. the girl has some variety, I’ll give her that

PERSONAL TRAINER ABBY! unfortunately, she can be such a dick lmao. if you're struggling with an exercise or with lifting weights, she'll just be watching you and laughing to herself. "you need some help with that, hun?" and you're whining at her to stop laughing and to hurry up and help you out. but she's so helpful and strong and attractive you can't stay mad at her for too long. like she'd grab your waist and fix your stance and when you get it right she’ll say something like “yeah, that’s it. you got it." she's always gonna encourage you to keep going. she'll really push your limits because she just wants you to do well. but this applies to lots of other things, not just gym. i honestly probably wouldn't be able to go to the gym with her because i'd be distracted by her the entire time. so.

playing fighting with abby. she gets so competitive and will do literally everything in her power to win. she's the furthest thing from a sore loser, thankfylly. she’s very conscious of her strength, so despite the fact that she’s literally able to toss you around like a bag of potatoes, she’s never hurt you by accident. she’d genuinely be so mortified if she thinks she hurt you. will literally sulk about it meanwhile you’re like “abby, I’m fine??”

she's always very relaxed whenever she's around you. i can't say she'd be smiley when there are other people around, but she'll have a kind of pleased and content expression on her face. but when you're alone? oh boy, have fun trying to wipe that cute ass smile off her face, because you can't! she's just very at ease when you're around teehee. her demeanour is a lot less tense than what it may be typically. honestly I think she’d just melt around you

abby isn't the biggest gossip around--if you ask her, she'll just shrug and say that that kind of stuff isn't something she's particularly interested in. however, she is absolutely invested in whatever gossip you have for her, even if she pretends to be nonchalant about it. she'd probably say some bullshit like, "babe, that kind of stuff isn't even worth your time." but then the next time she sees you she asks about it because she wants an update. talks shit but doesn’t consider it to be real gossip. “it’s called a discussion, not gossip.” she’ll say, like a fucking liar

she’s SO invested. always asking for updates, always asking questions. she tries to be subtle but honestly at some I’d think she’d give up and go all in

waterpolo player abby !

you literally cannot drag her away training so as a result she always smells like chlorine. she bitches about it all the time, too.

she’d look stupid as hell wearing the hats lmao i'd call her egghead or something

she definitely complains about how damaged her hair gets from all that swimming she does

idk about you guys but soggy Abby does something to me… like she's wearing her swimming costume and her hairs down and she’s still damp and you can see the water droplets on her skin and AAAAAAHJASHIEDQHV

don’t even try pushing her into the pool because she’ll drag you down with her lmao

she'd definitely be centre forward REAL

she could try drowning me and I wouldn’t really mind tbh. but ik for sure she’s a scary ass player. fast AND strong as hell? I’d be fighting for my life. make sure u don’t get hit in the head by a ball thrown by her bc you’d be asking for a concussion. also she seems like the kind of person who keeps elbowing people?? LMAO

my gay ass needs to be locked up NOW 😟

[sailor-aviator]

Could we have jake pov of when he first sees her?

I’ve literally been waiting for someone to ask this!

Jake sat at the bar, Mandy at his left going on and on about something or another.

It wasn’t that Jake didn’t like Mandy. She was the very definition of perfect with long, brown hair, tan skin, and ocean blue eyes. She was lithe and had curves where it mattered, and she was a good lay, sure. More importantly, she was the mayor’s daughter and had practically been hand picked for him by their parents. She would become his mate, and then his wife one day, and everyone knew it.

And Jake was miserable.

Mandy was great on paper, sure, but she wasn’t what he wanted. She expected him to act a certain way, be a certain thing. She wanted to be the picture perfect couple. Jake wanted to be happy.

He knew he’d be settling with Mandy, but no amount of arguing could convince her that she would also be settling. Their parents had pushed for the match since they were younger, and Jake had been able to avoid it up until now. But this would be his second frenzy since his first shift, his third altogether.

He sat at the bar, stewing over this fact as Mandy droned on in his ear, still trying to convince him that this is what was best for everyone.

“It’s a good match, Jake,” she told him, running her hand up his arm with a sultry smirk. “I can make you happy.”

Jake frowned at that. There was that word again. He took a swig of his beer, wishing he had insisted on joining his friends tonight instead of giving into what Mandy wanted. What was expected of him. He knew she was expecting a proposal at any time, but Jake felt a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was coming. He wished he knew what.

“You’re just as bad as Seresin over here.”

Jake turned at the sound of his name, eager for any kind of distraction from the woman standing next to him. Then his eyes met yours, and the world faded around him.

Some of the older sea people had told him stories when he was younger about what it was like to find their true mate. It only happened to a handful of them, but it was a bond above all others, one they considered sacred.

Jake felt the magic of his people swirl within him, snapping into place as you gazed back at him.

He wanted you. He wanted you in every way you would give him.

He yearned for you. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go if you would let him.

He loved you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you if you would have him.

You were his.

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked next to him. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake was already looking back at you, watching as you walked away with Bradley, and a growl began to rumble in his chest. That wasn’t right. You should be by his side, not Bradley’s. He would have to fix that.

Jake wasn’t listening to Mandy as she rattled on beside him, too focused on how he would prove to you that you should choose him.