#8 years in this town going to the same shops with him

[clits-and-clips]

Every time I go into the shops I get emotional and almost start crying literally everything reminds me of him im gonna lose it

[coffeeastronaut]

the shitscript is in fact a a a shitscript but crowley and aziraphale's 6000 years of crowley cheating at checkers every time and aziraphale never wins is seriously so insanely funny. like.

aziraphale is not at all stupid, let alone enough for crowley's literal "whats that outside!!!! [snatches his pieces]" but the fact that he KNOWS hes been cheating this whole time and has been LETTING him is so fucking funny.

not for the reason the script gives (something something its aziraphale's lame moral lesson that even he knows is stupid, but only after an 11 year old points it out to him) but for the reason ive invented in my mind, which is that this is yet another example of their looserman weirdo foreplay

[3minsover]

another modern steddie au

Eddie gets invited to prom.

Eddie, the freak.

Gets invited by the captain of the basketball team, Jason.

And Eddie’s over the fucking moon, because he never thought he’d get a date to prom, let alone such a hot, popular one.

Sure, it’d taken a little convincing at first, because duh. Town pariah, cutest boy in school - it’s not an obvious match. But Jason seems sincere.

There’d been a time Eddie thought maybe he’d go to prom with Steve - back when they were in the same class last year - but of course Steve never asked, and Eddie didn’t have the stones to do it himself. Always had to go for the popular guy, the unattainable one, did Eddie.

Once Steve graduated, Eddie had been surprised to actually strike up a friendship with Steve on his trips to the local coffee-shop-vintage-vinyl-store hybrid where Steve now worked. He’d even asked Steve, only a couple days before Jason casually leant against Eddie’s locker and popped the question - his excitement and shock had made him blind to the group of jocks loitering with smirk-stained mouths just down the hall - if he’d consider accompanying him to prom just so he didn’t have to go alone. Just as friends though, obviously (except that Eddie would have combusted on the spot if it wasn’t just as friends).

Steve’s rejection of the invite had come swift, though not harshly, and not for any reason other than that he had tickets to see the Hoosiers play the Wolverines at the Assembly Hall that night. Eddie spluttered out reassurance that-

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about little old me! Hey, I’ll have Rob and Nance there, huh, even if they’re going together. I’ll crash their date.” But the enthusiasm fell out of his voice as he spoke.

Steve had been surprised, but supportive, when Eddie broke the news about Jason. he’d not said anything for a long moment, but then his face split into a smile that seemed too big for his face, and he offered Eddie a high five.

And so the afternoon of prom comes.

Jason’s going to pick Eddie up at 7, and for the whole day, Eddie’s been all jitters. He showers, shaves, fusses with his hair, his tux (borrowed from Wayne), his rings and chains, and at 6:45, Eddie sits down opposite Wayne at the dining table.

And he waits.

And waits.

7pm comes, and then 7:15. 7:30.

“He probably just got caught up,” Eddie justifies, if only to break the thick silence hanging over the kitchen.

“I’m sure, kid.” Wayne’s voice is sincere, but it does nothing to ease the swirling of Eddie’s stomach. 8 o’clock crawls nearer, and Eddie’s still sitting at his kitchen table, elbows itching where he’s had his arms folded on the table in front of him for so long. Wayne excuses himself, comes back a couple minutes later, and Eddie hasn’t moved.

Acceptance tastes bitter in Eddie’s mouth.

“He’s not coming, is he.” Eddie doesn’t need to phrase it as a question. Of course Jason’s not coming. Why would he? Eddie feels so fucking stupid. For a moment there, he really thought.

“No, son. I… I don’t think he is.”

“I’m gonna go change,” Eddie announces, failing to keep the wetness out of his voice. He stands, the chair legs scraping overloud against the kitchen floor, and stalks towards his bedroom. He’s tugging at his tie and blinking away stinging tears when four sharp knocks come from the front door. Eddie’s nearest, and his heartbeat rockets. he races over, yanks at the handle flinging it open to find-

Steve.

Steve Harrington is standing on his front porch, fidgeting with his tie. Because he’s wearing a tie. And a suit. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a little damp still, and he’s holding a single yellow dandelion between pinched fingers. He looks so fucking handsome Eddie could cry. Or kiss him. Or kiss him and then cry.

But Steve’s at the Hoosiers game. Or-

“Steve…? I don’t…”

“Wayne called me.” Steve dips his chin self-consciously, looking up through thick lashes.

“And you- But you’re- The game?” Eddie blinks furiously, blindsided by the sight of Steve Harrington in a tux offering him a flower for his goddamn buttonhole.

“There’ll be other games. I’m only gonna get one more chance to take you to prom.”

“One… more?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “I missed it the first time. Almost missed it this time too.”

“But you didn’t.” Eddie takes a half step forward, allowing Steve to slip his fingers under the lapel of his jacket and push the stem of the dandelion through the little stitched opening. He inhales a little gasp at the heady scent of Steve’s cologne so close all of a sudden. Their eyes meet, and everything else softens around them, fading only to shades of violet and blue in the dark. Eddie can see the bob of Steve’s throat as he swallows, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the rich hazel of Steve’s own to focus on it.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a fool.

“I’m glad you could make it, son.” Wayne’s voice pops the moment like a dishsoap bubble, soft in the way that fall leaves are. Steve looks up and over Eddie’s shoulder, nodding bashfully.

“I’m glad you called.”

“Me too, Wayne. Thank you. No, really. Though I’m not sure I entirely love the fact that my uncle can get me a date better than I can.” The three of them laugh, the sound rising smoky into the night.

“You two have fun - but not too much, y’know.” Wayne’s mouth is set firm but there’s a recognizable spark in his eyes that Eddie is so glad they share.

“I’ll have him home by midnight, sir.” Steve plays the ‘respectful, demure date’ role so well.

“Don’t I get a say in that?” Eddie exclaims, whipping his head to look between the two of them. “Alright, take me to the dance, Harrington.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

In the end, they don’t make it to prom. Instead Steve drives them out to the overlook at Lover’s Lake, just the two of them, and they talk until the twinkle of stars is replaced by the first peachy hints of day. And Eddie thinks maybe prom is overrated, after all.

[a66-1]

HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮‍💨😮‍💨

crying and throwing up bc AHH

tysm omg..

it's giving I should do both of these

Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.

a/n: major fluff ❤️

what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)

Unedited and not proofread

Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)

You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.

His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.

"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.

"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.

"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.

You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.

Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.

The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.

-

You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.

You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-

It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.

You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.

A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-

You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.

"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.

"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."

That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...

"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."

You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."

His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.

"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.

"Who did that too."

You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"

That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.

"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.

"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.

Good, good.

"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."

That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.

You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.

He was good.

You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.

"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.

"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.

Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.

"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.

"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.

You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.

"I missed you, Si."

AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.

Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.

TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!

Request to get more fun stories like this!

Bye babes!

-a661

[elflutter]

March x Injured farmer after 4-hearts cutscene

description: It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times the farmer couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

Or, a rewrite of the four-heart cutscene where March helps the farmer home after she sprains her ankle at the forge. Then, they finally confront their feelings.

warnings: NSFW (rated M, nothing too intense. minors dni), minor injury

note: there are a few fics on ao3 where the farmer helps a drunk march home after friday night at the inn, so i wondered what a scenario where march had to help the farmer home instead would be like! this fic is also on ao3 ♡ i haven't written fic in 8 years if you like this please talk to me about it/leave a comment!!! it means the world and im feral for this grumpy blacksmith

Ariana hadn’t said more than a few passing words to March since he asked her to meet him at the Blacksmith a few weeks ago. March had chewed her out and then, perplexingly, gifted her a hoe with the nicest metalwork Ari had ever seen. She was used to working with wooden training weapons at the Adventurer’s Guild and since she had arrived in Mistria she had made do with whatever tools she could get her hands on. Sure, they were old and rusty, but they were also free. Ariana didn’t need nice things.

Ever since that day in his shop, Ari had avoided having any real conversations with Mistria’s blacksmith. When she could, she would leave whatever ore she had collected with Olric or with a note by the forge and continue quickly on her way without meeting March’s gaze. And the few times she had exchanged words with him, Ari found it hard to look away from his eyes, dark as the midnight sky, and those lips, quirked down in a frown.

You’re being ridiculous, Ari chided herself. He’s not warming up to you. He’s just keeping an eye on you like he promised.

Sure, he hadn’t outright insulted the farmer in a couple weeks. He didn’t need to. March had thrown his words like daggers when they last spoke at any real length.

March had looked at her with eyes hard like iron. “Oh please. You're in way over your head. You come out here, no money, no experience, and think you can just fake your way through running a farm? And now everyone in town acts like it was you who won the first-place blacksmithing trophy three years running. It's all fun and games now, but the second things actually get tough, I'm sure you're going to ditch Mistria and its problems.”

Ariana wasn’t a quitter. She had told March that much. But he was right about one thing. She had no idea how to run a farm. Back in the Capital, Ari could barely keep a houseplant alive on the windowsill of her apartment. She was always a quick learner, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t enough.

You weren’t enough for the Adventurer’s Guild, and you aren’t enough for Mistria.

And March was the only one who saw that. Ari wanted to prove him wrong- she wanted to be good enough for Mistria. Good enough for March, Ari tried not to think. She told herself that was the reason the blacksmith was always on her mind. She was only thinking about proving him wrong. She was not thinking about his eyes that sparkled when he laughed on Fridays at the inn, not the little crease between his eyebrows that she wanted to smooth out when he frowned, and certainly not what those pursed lips would feel like beneath her own

 That would be ridiculous, she told herself. He hates you. 

It didn’t matter how his steely gaze had gentled like molten ore these last few weeks. It didn’t matter that the few times Ari couldn’t avoid March completely, his words didn’t have the same bitter edge they had that first season in Mistria. Maybe that was just her imagination, anyway. Wishful thinking, she told herself. So, when Olric asked Ariana to help him and his brother out at the forge, she tried not to get her hopes up.

—

March was having a great day. It was still early in the summer, so the air in Mistria wasn’t blistering quite yet. It was just the right temperature that reminded him of standing in front of the warmth of the forge. He was pleased with himself as he approached his brother, “Olric! Balor cut me a great deal on the ingots. But we’ll have to bring them to the forge ourselves, so we’ll need to-” March cut himself short when he saw familiar purple waves and a denim overall dress. “Ari, what do you think you’re doing here exactly?” March’s skin simmered with a feeling that he told himself was anger.

“March!” his brother beamed, “Ari heard how backed up we were and uh… volunteered to help out! Right, buddy?”

Ari stood silently for a moment, her eyes locked firmly on March. He swore he saw a faint blush creep onto her cheeks. Figures, he thought, I’ve been a real ass to her. Of course she’d still be angry with me. The farmer had been avoiding him these last few weeks. Ever since he’d pushed her away. It was for the best. March had to focus on work and while Ari had captured everybody else’s attention in Mistria, it was best that she stayed away from March. He liked it better on his own.

March broke Ari’s gaze, and whatever spell was cast between them had broken. March didn’t let himself feel disappointed.

“Many hands make light work!” Ari recovered, sunny as ever. March thought it was infuriating. No matter how rude he was to her, she always responded with a smile and a kind word. It was ridiculous. Nobody was that nice.

Nobody except Ari, his subconscious added unhelpfully. He ignored it. It had to be an act, right? March angled his head so he could look down at Ari in a way he knew made most people feel small. “I don’t need platitudes, especially from you.”

Ari’s smile faltered and March chided himself despite his better judgment. This woman was so frustrating! “Well you can just- fine! Fine. But you’d better be able to keep up,” March finished. 

The blacksmith directed his brother to start carrying over Balor’s shipment from the inn, and Ari helped start up the forge. She kept the temperature steady easily. March wasn’t surprised, her skill had been improving steadily since she arrived in Mistria. The two of them fell into an easy rhythm. A swell of pride bubbled in March’s chest as Ari added another ingot to their growing pile. Once Olric returned with the shipment from Balor, he slotted into their routine and the work that would’ve taken all day with just the two brothers was done by lunchtime.

“And... that's... it! Whew, I think we're done. Are we done, Olric?” March panted.

Olric was out of breath as well, “We sure are! Everyone is going to be super happy about this!”

“That was fun!” Ari was beaming, showing that warmth that March craved despite himself.

The blacksmith felt his cheeks heat. “Y-yeah! ... I mean... thanks, Ari. I'm going inside,” March swallowed thickly, “I need to cool down.”

March felt the farmer’s stare on his back as he turned back into the shop. Before he could even latch the door closed, there was a scuff of boots and a yelp at the forge behind him. Next thing March knew, he was at Ari’s side helping her to sit on the stairs from the forge that she had seemingly tripped down.

—

Ari’s ankle throbbed as she sat on the steps to the forge, March’s hands carefully assessing her injury. She thought it was fitting that her first real injury in Mistria had come from her infatuation with the Blacksmith and not from a monster in the mines or from her work on the farm. March was the biggest pain in her ass, even more so than any of her real work. March pressed his fingers gently against a tender spot on her ankle and she flinched at the ache it caused.

March turned to Olric, “We should get her to Valen to check this out.” Was that concern in his voice? She was not going to see the town’s doctor. Absolutely not. She would never live down the indignity if her first trip to Valen’s clinic was caused by tripping down the stairs while ogling at the local blacksmith. It was barely a sprain, surely she could make it to her farm and patch herself up with supplies from her adventuring days. Ari carefully maintained her image as the competent farmer. She didn’t want Valen to see through the act like March clearly had.

You’re not enough for Mistria. And you are certainly not enough for him.

Before March could turn his gaze back to Ari, she pushed herself off the steps to make her way home. However, the second she put weight on her ankle she stumbled back onto the stairs. Despite the obvious difficulty moving, Ari managed to mumble out a pouted “’M fine.”

“Your ankle is already twice its normal size.” Ari felt March’s eyes on her injury. “There is no way you can keep working like that,” the concern in March’s voice was unmistakable.

So he does care.

Before Ari let herself dwell on that revelation, she threw the harshest look she could muster through the butterflies in her stomach and the throbbing in her ankle. She was never really good at harsh looks to begin with. “You are not taking me to Valen like this.”

March matched her disagreeable energy for a moment, with much more verve than she had managed “What do you mean? You know it's her job to see to injuries, right?”

Olric looked between the two of them, clearly not wanting to be caught in the middle of one of their arguments. “I’m just going inside to check on our, um, rocks… Ari just shout if you need any help, yeah? Take care of yourself, bro.”

When Ari didn’t say anything after Olric made himself scarce, March softened again. “You really do need to get this treated.”

Ari couldn’t help but smile, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about my well being,”

March’s face turned as red as his hair as he stammered, “W- well I don’t want you out of commission with all that ore you’re bringing around all the time. It’d be bad for business- that's all.” Though he tried to mask his worry, Ari still caught his eyes darting down to her swollen ankle.

“March, I’ll be fine. I have some supplies at the farmhouse. I can patch myself up, I’ve done it before.”

Before Ari could move to get up again, March carefully laid a hand on her arm. “At least let me help you get home. We both know you can’t put weight on that ankle right now.” Ari could swear she felt sparks where his fingers brushed, calloused and warm. The farmer nodded her head because her throat seemed too dry to form words.

It was going to be a slow-going process, getting back to the farm. Ari had an arm slung over March’s shoulder so he could help support her as they began to walk away from the Blacksmith. Ari tried to hide her wince and sharp intake of breath whenever her injured foot pressed against the ground. But they didn’t seem to escape March’s attention, because after a few steps, he motioned for Ari to stop moving.

“This will go a lot faster if you let me carry you.”

For a moment Ari forgot about her pride and imagined March’s strong arms, toned from long days at the forge, wrapped around her body. Imagined what it would feel like to wrap her own arms around him and what it would be like to feel his pulse under her breath as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. So Ari conceded. For purely experimental purposes, of course. 

March picked her up like she weighed nothing, despite her plump curves and her own toned physique from life on the farm and adventurer training before it. She had trained hard with the Guild, though they never sent her out on any real adventures. Ari was competent, but she had been relatively new to the Adventurer’s guild. There was always a more seasoned adventurer for the jobs that really mattered. And it would have been selfish of her to push for a job outside the city, protecting farmland from bandits or villagers from woodland monsters when her inexperience could have easily hurt the ones she wanted to help. So, the old farm in Mistria seemed like Ari’s best shot to make a real difference.

Even if I have no clue what I’m doing, she couldn’t help but remind herself.

She was shaken from her thoughts when March started walking after adjusting Ari in his arms. He was carrying her princess-style, and as Ari wrapped her arms around his neck, the feeling of his skin under her fingertips was even better than she had imagined. March’s hold was secure, and Ari relaxed into him. She focused on the pleasant up and down sensation of each step as they made their way towards her farm instead of her throbbing ankle.

Ari decided to test out another one of her theories, and rested her head in the crook of March’s neck. She felt muscles tense under her cheek for a moment, before March pulled her body closer to his. He smelled of cedarwood & sage, and she drank in the scent. This felt more magical than any spell Caldarus could teach her. Ari could feel March’s pulse thundering as they crossed the bridge that led home. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba- dum. It was mesmerizing. Ari wondered if her own heartbeat betrayed her like his did.

Is he enjoying this?

Before Ari could decide on an answer, March stopped at the front door of her farmhouse.

“We’re here, Princess.” March’s breath was on her ear and his voice raspy. He wasn’t teasing her, not entirely. Lightning licked down Ari’s spine at his words, and at his voice.

Ari tried to control her breath as she replied, “You can put me down now, I think.”

March seemed to return to himself as the tension loosened between them when he was reminded of why he had been carrying her in the first place.

“Let me at least get you settled inside. You’ll strain yourself trying to walk on it so soon.” 

Ari rolled her eyes at his mother-henning, but her arms were still around his neck and she wouldn’t mind a few more moments of feeling his body pressed against hers. “Fine.”

March set Ari gingerly on her plaid bed sheets and she told him where to find the healing supplies. He pulled the canvas duffel bag out from under the bed and began to sort through her first aid kit. 

“Do you even know what to do with all that?”

March looked up at her, “First aid training a couple years ago. I taught smithing at a summer camp.”

Ari studied her grumpy blacksmith. It made sense that he would be a camp counselor. He was great with Luc, Maple, and Dell; always working on little projects for them. She recently overheard Dell bragging about the awesome dragons-head belt-buckle he had made for the little adventurer.

“You really are a softy,” Ari accused him with no real malice in her voice.

“Would you rather I leave you here and let you break your ankle tripping over yourself?”

March gathered healing ointment on his one hand and carefully lifted Ari’s injured ankle with the other. He spread the salve over the swollen area and Ari couldn’t decide which sensation was more intense- the aching tenderness of her sprain, or the electricity she felt every time March touched her.

The air smelled of mint & aloe. The pain in Ari’s ankle quieted to a dull thrum. “I guess I don’t really mind that you’re here.”

March’s smirk told Ari he was unconvinced by her nonchalance. He wiped the ointment from his hands onto a washcloth from the healing kit, and moved to wrap her ankle for stability. As he worked the bandage around and around, March’s gaze stayed locked on Ari’s.

“Thank you, March,” her voice was barely more than a whisper. Where before the tension between them had grown slack, now it was pulled taut. 

“Arianna,” March breathed.

Before Ari could consider what she was about to do, her hands found their way to March’s red locks and she gently pulled him up so that his face was even with her own. He was so close that they could share breath. His lips were slightly parted and his cheeks were rosy. Ari closed her eyes and the distance between them as she gently pressed her lips to his.

Ari expected March to be reticent, at first. She feared he might even pull away from where their lips were joined. Instead, March deepened the kiss gently, almost reverently. His hands cupped Ari’s jaw and warmth pulsed down her body, through her stomach, and straight to her core. They explored each other with tenderness and without any rush. Ari’s grip loosened in March’s hair and she moved her hands down his chest and to the hard plane of his abdomen. His apron felt rough beneath her fingers, and Ari couldn’t help but stop and toy with the metal pendant he always wore. 

They kissed until they were out of breath and panting. When March finally pulled away, his eyes devoured Arianna like a starved man. The blacksmith pressed his forehead to Ari’s and she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Ari ached for him as March repositioned his hands to rest on her waist and his lips to brush against her ear.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words sent another shiver between her legs and Ari wondered if she was having the same effect on him.

“Do you really mean it?” She whined, “Don’t you dare tease me.”

Ari couldn’t help the lingering fear in the back of her mind that this was just some joke; that the harsh distance from before revealed his true feelings for her and now he was just having a bit of fun at her expense.

Deep down she knew that the man who taught his craft to kids at summer camp and who faithfully created a copper nugget beetle out of actual copper for Luc wouldn’t have the heart to do that to her. But the fear remained nonetheless.

March let out a sigh that sounded almost like regret. “Is it because of how I treated you before? I’m sorry Ariana.” His stare darted down for a moment, unable to meet her own. “I have a tough time with new people. I learned that they can’t disappoint me if I expect the worst from them.” March pulled back so he could look into her eyes again, pupils blown with desire and gaze simmering like hot coals. “I expected the worst from you and you proved me wrong every single time. Thank you for today.” March paused another moment, and Ari quietly marvelled at how beautiful he looked in that moment.  “I’m shit with words, Ari. Let me show you.”

Arianna nodded frantically, heady want flooding her thoughts and her senes until all she could feel were March’s hands on her overalls as he adjusted her farther back on the bed, carefully maneuvering her injured ankle. She ached for him. Then, March positioned himself between her legs and she could feel his need. For a moment, his lips were on hers again, and she relished feeling so close to him. He kissed down her chin and to her jaw. He paused his work to look up at her, and his gaze was like a blessing and a wanton prayer. March’s mouth trailed kisses down her overalls and to just below her navel, and she lamented that she was covered by the damned clothing. Ari wanted to feel his lips on her bare skin. Then, a hand snaked up her thigh and under her dress. Arianna moaned her assent.

March looked up again, “Is this okay?”

Ari mustered another nod, all rational thought lost to her. March bunched the skirt of her overalls at the waist.

“Is this okay?”

Again, Ari nodded. March pushed her underwear to the side and positioned his lips just above her core.

“Is this okay?” March looked at her with a primal hunger in his gaze, voice rough with want.

Ari tried to nod again, but all she managed to do was buck her hips towards March’s waiting lips and let out a needy moan.

Finally, finally March pressed a kiss to where she needed it most and Ari began to come undone underneath him. His tongue was hitting all the right spots; and his hands pressed her hips firmly to the bed when all she wanted to do was grind into him. 

March lifted his head for a moment, gazing up at Ari with his lips parted. She felt his calloused hands resting on her hips, only pressing down when she tried to lift them. “Careful with that ankle, Ari.”

The unabashed concern in his voice was as intoxicating as the evidence of what he had been doing to her on his lips.

All Ari could think about were those hands on her skin and the bulge she knew was between March’s legs. “Come back up here, March.”

They shed their clothes, and then March was pressed against her once again. Where before it was his mouth, now it was his hips. Ariana forgot the ache in her ankle and the cool gel of the healing salve when there was no more room between herself and March. He fit perfectly, and joined with her so gently. As March pressed his forehead against Ari’s and began to move within her, she thought she could see every possible shade of magic inside his blown out pupils. Ariana had come to Mistria for a farm and a house, but what she had gotten was a home. That thought scared her more than any monster in the mines. March reached a hand up to cup her jaw and he captured her lips in a tender kiss. His fingertips felt hot where they touched her cheek, and she savored the roughness of his callouses, hardened from long days at the forge.

Soon, both spent, they reluctantly pulled away from each other. March grabbed a towel from the small kitchen in the farmhouse and wiped up his mess from her stomach and chest. The texture of the towel was rough against her soft skin and slick against March’s release. 

“Was that clear enough for you, Princess?”  March asked with a smirk. March’s arm was around her shoulders and her head was pressed to his chest where she could hear his heartbeat.

Emboldened by his obvious affection, Ari adjusted to prop her head on her elbow and smiled as she stared lazily at the man in bed next to her. “Are you sure that's how you feel about me?”

March silenced her with a kiss and she laughed into his mouth. When they separated again, March’s fingers explored her purple waves. “Please don’t ask me to explain it again right now. I might need a break first.”

Ari laughed and curled into March's side, feeling content and decidedly not ready for another round. March pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

They held one another in companionable silence for some time. “I think I love you, idiot,” March finally mumbled into Ariana's hair.

Ari pulled away to meet his gaze, heart thundering in equal parts joy and disbelief. Composing herself, she smiled at her blacksmith. Her blacksmith. “I was just thinking the same thing, asshole.” 

[chizoies]

STRAWHATS FAMILY AU

The Lore Drop:

Alright,in this alternative universe the whole gang is a family. Robin and Franky are married and they are the parents. Brook is Franky’s adoptive father. Jinbei is Robin’s biological father. Brook is African (Nigerian (Bantoid))American and he was never married. Franky is caucasian, his roots comes from Turkiye. Jinbei is Indian, he married Olvia, she is Brazilian. So Robin is half Indian half Brazilian.

Only Luffy and Chopper are Frobin’s biological children.

When Robin and Franky got married, they had realised that they are rich enough to set on a quest to help the children of need so they went to see the world. HEAR ME OUT it makes sense because um Jinbei is a very respected doctor and Brook is a renowned musician; Franky own a ship/boat/cruise fix company and Robin is a doctor in the archeology field 😁 they are rich rich

First, Luffy was born. And their first destination was Japan. That is where they adopted Zoro. He was in Juvenile. They sorted out things and adopted this child to save him. Cause he was innocent. Luffy was 6 and Zoro was 10 when this happened. (I know the punishment age range is after 14 in Japan but the crime they were accusing him of was so severe or something that they had to, like you should know I’m just making shit up leave me alone)

After a few months they go to Finland. That is where they adopt Nami. A Swedish girl who was in the hands of a gun mafia that killed her sister and mother. She was 9. So they fight fight and get her.

The new year comes, and they decide to go to Mozambique. That is where they meet Usopp! When Franky and Zoro was walking through streets with full of shops and all, they run into Usopp (same age as Luffy) who was selling things he built. Usopp’s father Yasopp left their home when he was born, and her mother dies of sickness. The social workers does not give shşt about the poor. Franky sees this spark in him. He and Zoro buys things from him. And at the end of the day Franky asks if he wants a family they can be one to him. Usopp refuses because of his sick friend Kaya. Saying that he cannot leave her. Later in the week, yk the drill they show everyone that Kuro is bad person blah blah, they both save Kaya and Usopp. Usopp accepts to be part of their family.

They make BIG AHH turn and go to France. They drop at some seaside town. Such a nice touristic place. But so many shop owners with rent complaints. The mayor of this town goes againts its country’s law and increases the rents per SECOND. They dig down this mystery by accident and find out that the mayor is a evil motherfrucker scientist. He also has a son , Sanji (10 yo), whose very much so sweet. They want to fight the scientist but the country is actually supporting him. Since his products and the stuff he does supports the economy or something. So they technically kidnap Sanji. But Sanji needs it. With Franky’s relations they get him a fake id and all that. But they promise that ona day they will have enough power to defeat him. Sanji is happy.

The next destination is Canada. That is exactly where Franky and Robin decides to make another child 😁

After that they go to Egypt. They come across an organisation that Robin did her internship, the one that ran by Sir Crocodile. They find a lost child named Vivi. Vivi is an 8 year old who is getting used by Crocodile. They save her, save the country, yay! Allthough Vivi was a part of their family for a quite time after they learned that Vivi was a princess, they help her to meet her father. The Strawhats leave Egypt and promise eachother that they will meet again.

After 9 months Chopper is born. And the family is complete for now. But they are still in a quest to help children. Or to collect them lol. After a while the grandpas also join their quest. And yeah thats it. I would binge read it if someone makes a fanfic about it.

[rennsugrpop]

i never, never want to go home

MINGI X READER

Summary: he was there one second, then he wasn’t. he was sweet like caramel coffee on cold nights but the next time you see him, he was the cold night, freezing and unforgiving. was he serious about you? or were you just another college fling?

Bags. Boxes. packaging tape. flight tickets.

Bags. what’s for dinner? packaging tape. Bubble wraps.

Boxes. I think I need more boxes.

One more exam then i finish college and go back home next week.

One more paper…. Then boxes, bags, packaging tape…

 That’s all you could think about all month. Brain fogged up with worries and responsibilities, anxiety and melancholy at the same time. Your three years worth of university life is going to be over soon. You can’t wait. Can’t wait to finish this degree and start a new chapter. but of course there’s the part of melancholy. The part where you think you’re going to miss this so much. The amazing friends, the parties, the fun, the drama, the late night adventures, the unlimited booze on weekends, all of it. This was the big city experience you always wanted. This was the unreachable sky you once dreamed of as a kid from a small town. “oh I’ll definitely find my first love in college and I’d marry him! You’ll see!” you were 8 back then. Childhood was so precious. You crave for the youth they show on the TV having you wish for the same, until it actually comes and passes by in a blink. But you don’t have time to think about that. You still have one exams left. Finals, sadness, and moving out, these thoughts were practically plaguing your brain.

And then there was him.

He was there one second, then he wasn’t. he was sweet like caramel coffee on cold nights but the next time you see him, he was the cold night, freezing and unforgiving. As hard as it was to understand him, he was never as hard on you as he was on others. No really, when you had first met him along with a group of art major students in the middle of your second year, he had seemed pretty chill. They all had a English history class with your professor who had been your course supervisor. You still remember how your supervisor had asked you to “please help these art kids out with the history” as she promised you help with your research paper in return, how could you say no? as a literature student, basic English history was easy for you, of course you go ahead with it. and you were later glad that you did. Because since that day, you had never once been separated from this group of art students who knew exactly how to live life. they had adopted you basically, and you had loved every second of it. Wooyoung was the one with the sudden late night plans, San being the one who made these plans legal and safe. Seonghwa always got the booze, Hongjoong always brought at least 3 orders of coffee to class, Yunho was the designated one with a car and daddy’s money. Jongho and Yeosang were the ones who joined only when they needed free booze, or a fun time at the end of every semester.

And then there was him. Song Mingi.

He had been the one who knew Yunho the longest. So for you to have been good friends with Yunho only meant he would always be around. And he was. Whether it’s the tutoring, the parties, the usual hangouts at the philosophy building’s terrace, coffee runs. As far back as you try to think about your time with all of them, he had been in even the farthest memories. When San first suggested you should hangout with them, he had agreed with everyone. When Wooyoung invited you to the party at his and San’s place he had been the one who offered to pick you up along with Yunho. When you had to do a grocery run at 9pm and you were worried the shops would be closed, he had been the one to tag along so you wouldn’t be alone. So when you had been stuck alone at the library studying for mid semesters while it was raining heavily outside, you pretended not to care about the loud thundering that came with it. Every flash of thunder had you nearing to tears, but you denied to show it. what’s worse is that you had left your earphones with Yunho the other day, so ignoring the loud sounds was your only way out. Out of all the things you had expected to happen, a mingi struggling with an almost broken umbrella at the library door was not one. He had acted like he just happened to need a book this late from the library. And he just happened to bring his headphones with him.

“but it’s raining so hard. No way they’re waterproof?”

“maybe they are? You wanna check if they’re still working?”

At that moment, he had looked so dreamy. Short wet dirty blond hair sticking up as he runs his hand through it in hopes of fixing it, half wet jacket that he took off and placed on the back of his chair to let it dry, now leaving him in a black tee, looking down at you with the softest eyes, holding up the headphones.

Another loud flash.

You body jerked at the sound and he had immediately grabbed your hand. You hate thunder. You hate it so much. you’re holding onto something. Oh shit it’s mingi. But he doesn’t seem to mind? He’s now making you wear the headphones, plugging them to his own phone. The Smiths started playing. He’s a Smiths fan? Your brain is now fogging up with thoughts of him and only him, the man in  front of you giving you the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

As the rain slows down and eventually turns to a low drizzle, you two decide to share the umbrella as he drops you off to your building.

“mingi, what about the book you needed at the library?” it had completely slipped your mind that his real motive to be there was this book he said he needed. “oh don’t worry, I’ll get it later” he still has that stupid smile.

“but you said-“ “do me a favor y/n, keep the headphones with you in case it rains again tonight.”

Oh he looks so beautiful. This moment. This exact moment when you look up at him, he feels safer than a warm blanket. But wait, how does he know that. You may have stared at him for a good minute cause as soon as you open your mouth to ask what he meant, he hits you with the “I’ll see you later, yeah?” and jogs off.

 One new message

Yunho: shit I just found your earphones in my bag.

Yunho: U alright? It rained pretty bad..

The next day as Yunho walks up to you right before to return your earphones, he stares at the headphones on your neck.

“hey where’d you get those from? Mingi has the same pair! That’s weird because I saw him run off outside with them last night in the rain and he didn’t even tell me where he’s going…..” he tilts his head now as if he’s arranging all this info in his brain because the pieces aren’t fitting together.

“oh yeah he came to the library last night for something, let me borrow them. Dude where’d he get em from cause it’s noise cancelling, I need a pair hello??”

You joke around but Yunho has a full question mark on his face. Then it looks like a light bulb went off over his head.

“SO THAT’S WHY HE RAN OFF LAST NIGHT!”

“what?”

“y/n. hear me out. When it started thundering, I remember myself saying, “oh it’s pretty bad today. Hope y/n will be fine” he asked me what I meant by that and I mentioned you not liking thunder and it looked like his brain went static for 2 seconds and then he immediately bolted with an umbrella and these headphones in his hands.”

He ran in the rain for you.

It hadn’t even occurred to you yet. He had ran in the rain for you all the way to the library.

You had thought it would be awkward now. But it wasn’t. because he never implied anything. You had returned his headphones and you went back to being friends. But he was always extra attentive of you. a little more noticing, little more caring that he is to others. And by the end of the year he would be the one you hung out with the most. Now it was you and mingi who were the pair. If they looked for mingi they knew they had to call you. if you’re invited at a party, of course mingi’s the one picking you up. he’s doing a coffee run? you’re right behind him. Though as friendly and platonic as it seemed, it was never just that. There had always been something more. Him holding your hand while walking you back to your place. Laying your head on his shoulder during your movie marathons with everyone, wearing each others clothes to classes or outside without a care in the world because it doesn’t matter who thinks what. You didn’t care. He was just always …. there. Unmoving. unwavering. It was just around halfway through the last (third) year where you had wanted a little more.

You had been acting like a couple, in public and in private. You had been sitting on his lap at parties, holding hands in campus, if anyone had dared to ask mingi the dreaded question, “are you guys dating?”, you could feel him grow cold again. He never said anything. He would just give them a smile that would make them run off like little kids. He never said anything.

So when you were cuddling on the couch while watching a random Netflix show, you had looked up at him, memorizing his face, his features, everything because you know in six more months, you might never see him again. He had noticed you staring.

“I can hear you thinking y/n”

“no I’m not. I’m just looking”

“you’re staring”

“okay and what if I am?”

He now stares right back at you. you don’t even move. You could see some sort of restraint in his eyes. Like he was trying to hold back. But he can’t anymore. Fuck it, it’s been long enough.

He dived right in and took your lips by surprise. It was soft at first. Testing the waters, going as slow as possible. And it was so so sweet. And passionate. His hand holding the back of your neck and other hand gripping your waist. Your own fingers playing with his hair. You had wanted this for so long you don’t even pause for air. And because you wanted him like this for so long, you don’t stop.

Things didn’t change much. you were now a couple but you were never the type to say much of your relationship. He was so on and off, cold and hot at times it confused you. but it didn’t affect you all that much. he had always been like that. He will be the sweetest boyfriend for a week, helping you cook, posting pictures of you on his social media, holding your hand in his pocket when its cold outside. But he will also disappear the next week, only texting you to tell you where he is so you don’t worry. He had always been like this. caring but cold. Distant but so close. He never opened up, never said anything sweet, no ‘I love you’s, or “hey you look beautiful today”. He would just smile so wide and give you a kiss so you would know exactly what he meant. He was in no ways a terrible boyfriend. You just wished he would talk to you more. Like “hey I love you. what are your plans after the year ends” or “hey I love you, please stay in the city for me” or even “hey, if you’re wondering, I won’t leave you after university ends”. What you had was enough for you now, but you wished for him to be with you in the future too. Would you be too clingy if you asked? Is this relationship just something casual? It won’t be that big of a deal if we break up before I leave right? hell, does he even know I’ll have to leave? You were gonna have to go back to your hometown with all of your things. Before you could start looking for a job, your family needed you back for a few months. You weren’t even sure where you would go next, but before that, you will have to go home. And you’re not even sure if he knows that.

You had accepted that he did like you enough to be around you all the time. You knew he was not fooling around, he was only yours. You knew his friends from the art department knew you as ‘his girl’. You knew and everyone knew too. So you didn’t ask for more. So now as you were running around trying to find a pair of jeans and a shirt to run to the campus for your last final, it had been 2 weeks since he had spoken to you properly. It had always been like that during exams. He would go completely MIA to study and rarely ever meet or speak to you. you didn’t mind it as you needed your time and space too. He would still text you good morning and good night and the usual “did you eat?” or “eat well ok”. It was only that this time that you wanted him here with you. you would be leaving next week and he doesn’t even know the amount of things you have to do and arrange all by yourself. You had been panicking all week with the packing foam, bubble wraps, moving boxes, trolley bags, along with managing to study for finals altogether. You had felt like crying. You had been so okay with everything but you wanted him to be serious now. Why wasn’t he serious about you? you really need him right now. You don’t even know if he would just break up with you when you leave. You had mentioned having to go visit your parents after finals but does he not realize what that meant? All the reaction you got from him was just a nod. You were still in denial, still trying your best to not think about it and just giving your last exam. So you rushed to the venue as fast as you could and didn’t bother asking if your friends or even mingi had reached yet. You just went to your assigned room exactly as the bell rang and after 3 long hours, it was over. Finals were over. Your university life was finally over. As much as you wanted to be relieved, you could feel tears threatening to spill. You had been so frustrated the whole week it was insane, so as you walked out of your classroom you find mingi waiting for you right outside.

Don’t cry y/n

Don’t cry

Don’t cry

You can’t cry. Not right now. Not in front of the entire campus.

“how did it go?” he asked.

“pretty good. And yours?”

“same as you.”

That same beautiful smile, his fingers slowly intertwining with yours, and him guiding you outside as if you were now entranced by him, not even being able to think for yourself, let alone walk. You soon realize he’s taking you to the philosophy building’s terrace, the usual hangout spot. Everyone’s there. Hongjoong and Wooyoung with cigarettes in their hand, the others just chatting. They greet you warmly, ask you how did the exams go, the conversation was smooth. But mingi was not beside you. as soon as he brought you through the terrace door he went off the smoke with Wooyoung and hasn’t even looked at you since. Seonghwa now asks you about your plans while he and Yunho sit around you. you say how you’ll have to be back home for a few months and that nothing’s really decided yet after that. You mention your flight being next week and Yunho immediately asks, “does he know?”.

You fall silent for a second. You know what he means. He means that mingi can be distant and off the grid and he can be painfully cold at times, but he does love you. he does care for you. he always has. So Yunho means to say that his best friend could be an absolute dumbass but he deserves to know. You say how you haven’t really talked to him about it. he knows about you moving out, and he knows about all the stress from it. but he never reacted. You doubt he knows your flight is next week but you know he won’t be surprised to know.

You say you’re going to head back because you had some errands to run and mingi doesn’t say anything, again. He just nods. Okay maybe it is casual for him. again, you ignore it. you leave. You walk down the stairs. You’re just about reach the bottom floor as a notification sound breaks your attention.

One new message

WOOYOUNG’S BITCHES:

Mingi: 10 cardboard boxes. 4 rolls of packaging tape, 10m bubble wrap roll, Thursday 4pm train for sending luggage, Sunday 11am flight. NOBODY be late. Jongho and yeosang will help with the furniture btw. Some 5m rope as well. Who’s bringing dinner?

San: ME ME ME

Mingi: done. y/n’s place. Just us, bring booze.

Hwa: ay ay captain

He knows everything. He planned everything. You wanted to hit him in the head for being like this, but now you’re just smiling like an idiot. He does love me. he’s such an idiot. There’s footsteps from the staircase and then there’s a 6 foot man crashing onto you from behind, hugging you tight.

(first person pov)

Turning around I crash into him, I crash into him like I had never before. I hold him tight and sob into his shirt, hard. He’s holding me tight, stroking my hair gently. I feel him kiss the top of my head before I look up to him. “why didn’t you speak to me properly?”

“I’m so sorry baby”

“I’m leaving, mingi”

“don’t leave.”

“……”

“please don’t leave. Or do leave but come back to me. I do love you. I’m aware I don’t show it like others do. Why do you think I’m not serious about you? I’m consumed 80% by you and everything about you. I know your flight details. i know the grocery items on your list, I know it when your favourite moisturizer runs out. I know the perfume you wear, yes all three of them. I know when your wifi goes out and I know all of your period cravings. You say I don’t communicate, but why do you never ask?”

“…..”

“because you’re scared of love. But y/n I love you and I’m not scared to show it. no matter where you go I’ll still love you. I’ll run to you baby. If I can’t run, I’ll walk. If I can’t walk, I’ll crawl. But I’ll always make it back to you. that’s why I don’t care that you’re leaving for a few months. Because it’s either you coming back to this city or I go wherever you go. It’s simple.”

I’ve never been this silent. He’s never spoken so much. I feel the burn on my chest like someone’s ripping my heart out. I’m so in love with this man and it never hit me as hard as it does now. He’s still holding me, arms around my back and waist. He waits for an answer. I think he knows I was fully prepared for a breakup today. I don’t know if he hurt me or I hurt him anymore. But what I do know, is that I’m not going anywhere. Or that I’ll go but I’ll come back to him.

“you never said you love me before”

“is it too late?”

“it’s not, mingi”

It’s not too late. It’s perfect timing.

[cafecourage]

Speaking of sleepy, caring for sleepy Chain

-Softie

We worked on this on stream long ago. I also made this also one bed. Part 1 has Time, Twilight, and Warriors

_____________

There was a common issue among some of the chain where most all of them have the fatal flaw of not being able to sleep. Some had issues waking up like Sky, Wind, Four and Wild. You quickly found that Legend was among that group but given the incident he went into the latter issue. Which was annoying when dealing with. It was completely opposite problems.

Time:

It was always hard to tell if the Old man was tired as he seemed to be always absolutely exhausted. Which was fair enough since he was dubbed the dad friend in the group thus making him the main person to go to for everything. It’s a wonder how he hasn’t just slept for 7 more years yet.

Still the Hero of Time was probably 3 days in without sleep and thats what you observed. Granted you should have stopped him by day 2. But you weren’t sure if he slept on the days you seen him take first shift and wake up with him being on last shift.

The other boy’s notice it too and while they all appreciate the extra sleep it’s unfair for Time. Warriors is typically the only one that speaks up about it since he isn’t phased by the Older Link’s tough exterior. While it would be embarrassing in hindsight you had to drag Warriors aside to push for you and Time to be in the same room. “I have a plan” is what you tell the captain not letting him know that you in fact, dont have a plan.

Truly the plan is fist fight the old man until he actually sleeps, or lecture him whatever you feel like. At least you will be here in town for a few days to gather supplies and information. So you can at least fix Time’s sleep schedule.

You’re plotting came to an extreme halt as you step into a room with one bed. “This can work.” You say out loud as you dropped your stuff in a corner of the room. “We can share the bed.” It’s not even up for debate at this point.

“Can we?” Time asks as he closes the door “wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” That wouldn’t be the word you would use. “Nah. Unless it makes you uncomfortable. Then I can take the floor.”

The hero gives you a look, one to even dare you to say that again. “If you don’t mind, then I don’t see why fight over it.”

“It I am being real.” You stand up and stretched “you do need it more.” It has been decided. You are lecturing him. “When is the last time you slept a full 8 hours? Heck 6 hours I would accept.”

An eyebrow was raised as he heads inside “I have been fine with the sleep I’ve been getting.” He takes his armor off putting each piece down carefully before finally sitting on the bed. He pats the spot next to him.

You follow his lead as you prepare a long argument. “Ah, yes the zero hou- Ack!” What you didn’t expect was Time to drag you into his lap and lay down.

Your face exploded in a blush as you were now basically his teddy bear. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed you also have trouble sleeping.” He whispered as he was already in the process of wrapping the both of you in the blankets. “Let’s take a nap for now…”

Well… This backfired successfully.

Twilight:

Twilight was one of these Links which, made sense but also didn’t when you found this out. He tries to older brother everyone, he makes sure everyone is asleep before he does. Which takes forever to do and your patience for this man is thinning.

After stopping in a town from a long trek. The group decides to go to the Inn to set up shop. You were already on Twilight to take a nap before dinner. “No. We are going to eat in like 30 minutes.”

Ok.

No.

He isn’t getting out of this and you don’t care you’re in the middle of the lobby. There was something that the chain has yet to learn about you.

You might be short.

But you are strong.

So you marched up to Twilight and despite his struggling you throw the hero over your shoulder and went directly to the room angrily. “Let me down!” Twilight demands of you. However you couldn’t care about it as you open the door kick it close and threw him on the bed. “That was unnecessary.” He said getting up.

“It was very necessary!” You argued back crossing your arms. “When is the last time you properly slept?”

Twilight stays quiet and looks away. He looked like a kicked puppy. “I get enough.”

“According to who? Because everyone else can make an argument that you’re barely getting any to function.” You let out a huff as you should probably be more lenient with him because it’s not really like he is doing something bad. You know from experience that the body could function with little sleep if it’s used to it but it’s not healthy! You didn’t go through classes with a clear mind but you should have! “We are just worried about you.”

The Hero stays quiet but sighs “ok. I understand.” He seems to give up at this point. But he reaches out to take your hand finally letting himself looked exhausted “but… can you stay with me?”

Your eyes soften as he seemed to be more tired than you thought. “Of course I will. Someone has to make sure you stay put.” He teases you.

Warriors: 

After a long day of traveling an inn was a welcoming sight. Since there were ten of you now each room had to have 2 people. Which was sometimes unfortunate for some, but for you in this current moment?

You couldn’t ask for a better opportunity since you (forcably) asked to be Warrior’s pair, only to have there only be one bed. 

Perfect.

Wonderful.

Amazing.

It was instant that you had grabbed Warriors tunic and almost thrown him on to the bed. “Didn’t know you wanted me on the bed that badly, doll.” He was laughing. This man was laughing and he looked like hell. Probably felt like it too as the ever polished captain was showing dark circles under his eyes. His smile was sluggish and his eyes weren’t as sharp as they normally were.

“Very funny.” You rolled your eyes as you headed towards him again to help him out of his armor. “You should take better care of yourself. 3 days of barely any sleep? What were you thinking?!”

“That the other boys need some sleep.” There was no hesitation as the stubborn man is proud of himself for killing his sleep schedule. “It’s fine.” “It is not fine.” You didn’t mean to throw his shoulder plate on the carpet. “You better take your chainmail off before I do it for you.”

“What if I rather you do it for me?” The captain fire back without missing a beat. Instantly his face paled “wait-“

“Nope to late come here.” You take his tunic and just… thew it off of him. “Do you want to continue?” This was a threat.

“no…” Warriors voice was silent as he finally got out of what armor he had left. “I should sleep on the floo-“ that suggestion was instantly silent as you glared at him.

Finally when both of you were ready for bed you had put your self on top of him. Cuddling but also if he was going to escape he will have to wake you up first. “this is so you don’t escape.” You said.

“I wont. I wont.” Warriors was a bit hesitant to wrap his arms around you “Thank you.” He whispered as he finally started to relaxed.

“Don’t rely on me to fix your sleep habits.” You said poking his cheek “good night Captain.”

“Good Night Sweetheart.”

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 13

This really is getting down to the end here. I'm already at the Mind Flayer in the spot where I'm at in the story so...yeah. Then it would just one chapter after that. Maybe. I don't know. But it's sad to see this one go, too.

Of course as with "Can Anybody See Me?" once this is done, I will begin work on the final story which will take us all the way to the end of the fourth season. Which I hope to get done before season 5. Ideally.

It will have a line from a song in a musical just like the last two (1776 and The Scarlet Pimpernel respectively) so you have any songs you think will fit the theme of the third book (which will be Steve and Eddie clashing over nerds vs sports until that fateful day in March) let me know in the comments or tags or even a DM or ask. It took me months to come up with the title for this one, so any help would be great.

Here we have the dipshit detectives trying to figure out the message and the "secret tunnel".

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

Once they explained everything to Robin, she told them about what the message said. And no given the context of the message coming from the mall it suddenly made too sense.

“The clock tower, the shoe shop and the Chinese place,” she crowed. “It’s got to be.”

“You sure you translated it correctly?” Steve asked. “Because what the fuck does blue meeting yellow have anything to do with the clock tower?”

Robin rolled her eyes and huffed out a deep sigh. “The hour and minute hands are blue and yellow and meeting in the west would be 9:45!”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “AM or PM?”

Robin stared at him for a moment in shock. “Oh. I don’t know. Could be either I guess.”

Eddie looked at his watch and cursed. “As thrilling as all this has been, I have to get to band practice.” He gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “Be careful, Stevie. Okay?”

Steve nodded and squeezed Eddie’s shoulder back. God, he just want to kiss him goodbye, because it might be his last opportunity to do so. But Dustin and Robin were watching and probably half of the mall too. “As careful as I can be.”

“How can you be so super chill about this?” Robin asked after he left. “Like Russians are running around our mall and Eddie acts like this is a normal Tuesday for you?”

Dustin and Steve shared a glance.

But Steve just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’ve had the worst year. My girlfriend broke up with me, I got my head bashed in by Hargrove, I got harassed by the basketball team, I nearly got water dumped on my head because I won the part fair and square, then the same asshole tried to scramble my brains further, I didn’t get into the right colleges and was forced to work here instead of the rec center pool like have for the last three years, and a fuck ton of other things. Now Russians have set up shop in my home town? This is just the cherry on top of a very shit filled cake.”

Robin and Dustin winced. Dustin knew that Steve’s year was actually way worse than the truncated version he gave Robin, but they couldn’t tell her about the tunnels, El, monsters, and secret labs. Hence, fuck ton of things.

“Okay,” Robin conceded, “it does sound like your average Tuesday.” She looked up at the clock. “You’re supposed to be off, anyway. So shoo and take the genius child with you.”

Dustin beamed up Steve smugly, but Steve just knocked his hat off on his way to clock out.

“Hey!” Dustin shouted after him. He turned to Robin. “Can you believe this guy?”

Robin just shrugged. “You’re the one who’s friends with him, not me.”

Steve walked out moments later, twirling the hat on his finger. He walked past Dustin to the mall food court. He stopped and turned around.

“Are you coming or are you going to keep harassing workers?” he huffed, putting a hand on his hip.

Robin burst out laughing as Dustin hurried to catch up, scooping his hat off the floor in haste.

Steve shook his head as they walked through the mall. “Hey if we grab my binoculars, I bet we could stake out the mall and look for Russians.”

Steve looked at his watch and sighed. Eddie wouldn’t get done with band practice until much later tonight and he didn’t want to go back to his large empty house, because of course his parents fucked off to the Caribbean for the summer. His father had forced him to give up a job he loved for the most humiliating retail job imaginable and then fucked off to some place pleasant, leaving him to rot.

“Yeah, okay.”

Dustin let out a whoop and jumped up and down. “You won’t regret this!”

Steve buried his head in his hands. “I already do.”

~

Steve and Dustin were hiding behind a large potted plant with Dustin’s binoculars watching people go by.

“What are we supposed to looking for, anyway?” Steve asked, scanning the crowds.

“Russians.”

Steve tore himself away from the binoculars to glare at him. “Thank you for that unhelpful assessment. I know I’m supposed to be looking for Russians, but what do Russians look like?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin huffed. “Tall, blond, scary looking dudes, I guess.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kept looking. He spotted Anna Jacobi flirting with Mark Lewinsky and huffed out a a noise of disgust.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said with a sigh. “Anna can do way better than swamp ass Lewinsky.”

Dustin smacked his shoulder. “Can you please take this seriously? You’re supposed to be looking for Russians, not your next date. Besides you already have the perfect girl right there!”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to looking through the binoculars. “Don’t say Robin.”

“Robin.” Was the immediate response.

“No, man,” Steve said as Dustin grabbed the binoculars from him, “she’s not my type. She’s not even in the ballpark of my type.” Considering that she had boobies and not a dick, pretty much sealed the box on any chances of that romantic relationship going anywhere.

Dustin looked over at him and sneered. “And what’s your type again? Not awesome?”

Fuck you. But Steve sneered and stuck his tongue out. “Thank you.”

Dustin grinned back at him with a little hum.

“Look,” Steve said, “for your information, she’s still in school. And she’s weird. But not like Eddie weird. Weird, weird. And she’s hyper. Like worse than Eddie. At least if you put a book in his hand, he’ll settle down. She’ll tap her fingers and twirl her gum. She was also one of those kids in drama who didn’t think I deserved the role of Thomson. That’s a bad look. And she’s in band? But not a rock band like Eddie, a fucking trumpet.” He twisted his lips in disgust. “No.”

Dustin turned to face him. “Now that you’re out of school, that means you’re an adult. And don’t you think you should move past primitive social constructs like popularity?”

Steve looked at him as if he was joking. “Popularity? Are you fucking with me right now? Did you forget I wasn’t popular for the last four months of high school? Primitive constructs, I tell you. Where the hell did you learn that shit? Camp Know Nothing?”

“Camp Know Where, actually,” Dustin huffed, “And no, it’s shit I learned from life. Instead of dating someone you think will make you cool again, why not date someone you enjoy being around for a change? Like me and Suzie.” He smiled broadly. He turned back to watching the through the binoculars.

Steve was soo close to just telling the little shit that he was dating someone he enjoyed being around, someone who did make him look cooler, someone who loved him for him and not in spite of him. But instead he took a deep breath and said, “Oh Suzie. Yeah, you mean hotter than Phoebe Cates. That Suzie. And let’s think about how exactly you scored a girlfriend?”

He scratched his head, appearing to think about it, then he snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, with my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give the advice and you follow through. Not the other way around, all right?”

Dustin sighed. “I just think you could really benefit from being with someone like her, you know?”

Steve rubbed the top of the kid’s head. “I’m doing better than you think I am. Better then everyone thinks I am.”

Dustin stared at him skeptically, but left it alone. Steve knew that there was no way he was going to leave it alone. He just knew that it was going to come back and bite him in the ass in the worst way and at the worst time. He could feel it.

~

“There is a secret room under the mall,” Steve said slowly, not quite wanting to believe this. “And we can get there through the air vents in the break room?”

Robin nodded emphatically. “Yeah, isn’t that cool?”

He had no idea how to tell her how uncool that actually was, because Jesus fuck, the deeper they got into this, the more over his head he felt.

“Let’s go see your secret tunnel,” he said with a sigh, rubbing his face, just suddenly exhausted by the whole thing.

He followed them to the back and looked up at the vent in utter despair. Sighing, he got a ladder and set it up, then hunted around for a screwdriver. Once he found one, he tucked it between his teeth and started climbing. He reached the vent and unscrewed the screws holding the vent in place.

“Oi!” he called out to Dustin. “Hold these!” He held out the screws for him to take. “Don’t lose them, otherwise people are going to ask why there is a great big gaping hole in the wall.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Steve put the screwdriver back between his teeth and took off the vent cover.

“It’s a tight space,” he murmured. “Hey, Robin you think you could fit? You’re pretty thin.”

Robin put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “While I appreciate you thinking I’m skinny enough to fit, I question your sanity if you think I’m going down the creepy tunnel.”

“Vent!” Dustin huffed. “You’ve both called it a tunnel. It’s not a tunnel, it’s a vent. And none of us are small enough to fit.”

DING! DING! “Hey!” someone called out from the front of the store. “Is anyone here?”

Steve who had been climbing down the ladder, stopped and shared a look with Dustin. A slow smile took over their faces.

“Erica!” they said together with glee.

They ran out to the front with Robin fast on their heels. They skidded to a stop and their smiles grew to actual grins when they saw that she was alone and not with her many friends.

“Erica...hey,” Steve said smoothly, leaning against the counter. “What can I get you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly being so nice?”

Just then Dustin and Robin burst out of the back room and stumbled into front and Erica was even more suspicious than she was before.

So Steve bundled her over to one of the booths and tried plying her with all the ice cream a little girl could conceivably eat, while Dustin filled both Robin and Erica about the messages and all their clues and how they put it all together. It was a hard but impressive sell.

“So will you do it for America?” Dustin asked.

“Well, you can’t spell America without Erica,” she said smugly. “A life time supply of Scoops Ice Cream and you’ve got a deal.”

Robin and Steve shared a glance. Then Steve reached across the table to shake Erica’s hand.

“Deal.”

~

Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

And if you remember something else there from WIP Wednesday... yeah. It wasn't fitting with the rest of the story and had to be cut. Sadness.

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

[mentally-unstable-hottie13]

⭐️senior year sucks⭐️

Henry Bowers x FEM!Reader

Chapter 1 here

Chapter summery: you have a hard conversation with Kevin. You meet a new friend and she’s so easy to love. You have a little run in with Henry.

Word count: 2,854

Estimated read time: 13 minutes

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Chapter 8

The babysitter and the psycho

You and Bev stopped dancing a few minutes ago. You now laid wait for Kevin to come pick you up and the losers rode off homeward on their bikes. Kevin was late. Strange. He was usually always on time. The front of the school was slowly bidding goodbye to students as you waited. Until only you and maybe 5 others were left standing.

The Bowers gang was still watching you. You felt eyes on you and could totally guess who it was, but didn’t feel like turning around. You park yourself onto a bench in front of the oncoming cars lane that headed into the student parking. Fuck. You really don’t wanna be here alone with them looking at you. You sigh heavily and take your headphones out of your bag. You connect them to your phone and put on some music.

Henry stood watching. The guys didn’t notice his little obsession with you yet. And they wouldn’t, they were morons. He watched the way your hair wisped in the gentle breeze. You were listening to something in your headphones. Maybe he should go to your work after belch dropped the other guys home. He had to go shopping in town for some shit for his dad then walk home. Why not check out the record store while he was out?

While Henry was zoned out Kevin had pulled in front of you. You quickly hopped in the truck with him and shut the door. To exit the school entrance road Kevin flipped a (very illegal) bitch and went down the exit road with no problem. When Henry came to, you were gone. He wrinkled his eyes in confusion. Quickly after you left the boys were ready to go too. Stop list was Patrick, Vic, then Belch would drop Henry at the store on his way home,

Kevin and you were currently in the truck waiting for a green light. You bent at the hips to grab your clothes from your bag in the passenger floor. The seatbelt did you no favors as you got dressed in the truck. Your top was fine today. You just needed to put on your jeans and put your hair up. Because your skirt was so long you were able to take off your undershorts and put on your jeans without having to let Kevin see your underwear. Not that it would be a problem. You grew up with him. You’ve gotten dressed in the same room. What real best friends haven’t?

Once the jeans are on you slide the dirty skirt off and toss it behind your seat. Kevin side eyes you.

“Why’s yer skirt so dirty?”

You try to quickly think of an excuse that he’ll believe.

“My friend gave me a ride to get some food on his bike and we fell.” You explain. It’s not exactly a lie. It’s just missing a couple key parts. He looks skeptical.

“I worry about you sometimes, kid.”

“No need to, I’m fine.”

“… you’re doing okay here. Right? You made friends? People aren’t bothering you?”

“Kevin, I'm fine. I made friends, you saw them this morning. No one is bothering me. It’s just highschool kids being highschool kids, they roughhouse and fuck with each other a little bit. I’m not gonna die.”

“If that’s the case why are you still hiding your arm? Monsoons are over soon. It’s gonna get hotter then balls. You won’t be able to hide it.”

“I hide it more because of the town then the people. I don’t want to be the only one walking around with a big fucking target that says ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You were beginning to get frustrated with this conversation.

“So why not show it now? You’re already the center of attention because you are new. Why not show the arm and let people get used to it? They’ll stop looking at you eventually. Let them know you. Be the nice girl with the tattoo that everyone in town knows. Don’t sit with your fuckin tail between your legs. They’ll get used to you. They did it with me.”

“Did they though?” You didn’t mean to snap. This conversation was just so frustrating. You didn’t want to hide but you didn’t want to fuck up what you had. Right now things are fine. Yes some people suck, but you would rather just some teenage boys suck than everyone in town suck. “It doesn’t look like anyone is used to you from what I hear.” ….

Oh shit.

“What do you hear?…”

“Uh…nothing. Sorry…. I’m being dramatic. I’m sorry….” You look at your shoes on the floor. He probably knows what people call him. Especially now that you are here. Creepy. Freak. Weirdo from the record store. He’s kind. But the children here are cruel. He gets along just fine with all the adults that come into the store. But to all the kids and their judgemental ass parents, he’s creepy. He’s never ever been creepy. He’s just…. Different. A tall, objectively attractive man, covered in tattoos with no wife in sight suddenly has a barely legal girl living in his home. People talk. And around towns like this, talk moves fast. Kids just wanted something to talk about. But that dosnt mean it won’t hurt Kevin’s feelings. He may be grown but he thinks just like a teenager does, he's emotional, caring, sensitive. You feel bad for hurting him.

“Iss fine.” He mumbles.

“You know what…?” You try to say kindly.

“Hmm?”

“How about you pull up here.” You point to a fast food restaurant. “Get some nasty ass burgers and ice cream? Last one in pays?” That evokes a smile from him. There he was.

“….fine. You’re on, loser.” He speeds into the parking lot and the both of you unbuckle your seatbelts and put your hands on your door handle.

You count.

“1.”

“2.”

“…3!” You yell. You open your door and then quickly press the lock all button on your door. It didn’t slow him down much but it did give you a few seconds to get out and start running. He catches up and pushes you into some bushes decorating the front of the restaurant. Safe to say you lost.

You two got the food and left. Onward! To the store! The two of you unlocked the store and set up to re-open. The routine is so easy to fall into. You sit front desk, Kevin organizes, some days you’ll switch, but since you only just started working you haven’t yet. You don’t feel like playing the guitar today. You just want to listen to music while you sit.

No real time passes before someone enters. A younger man, but older than you. About Kevin’s age maybe? He comes in with a little girl hiding behind his leg slightly peeking out behind him.

“Ey Kevin! Get yer ass in ere’!” The man yells and you jump a little.

Kevin walks onto the floor from the back room and smiles at the man. “Doug!” He yells happily as they fist bump. “When did you get back in town?” Kevin asks.

Doug sighs and rubs his head. “A few days ago but we have been so busy. Haven’t we Stella?” He looks down to the little girl and she hides a little more as she stares at you.

“I hear that” Kevin replies.

“And this must be the famous new girl?” Doug says giving you a wave.

“Oh shit” Kevin laughs as he swears. “Doug this is my friend. ____ this Doug and his daughter Stella.”

“Hi there!” You wave kindly and smile at the little girl.

“I came by to discuss renovations along with some gig I may need ya for.” Doug sighs at Kevin.

“No problem man, ____ why don’t you and Stella hang out?” Kevin looks to you.

“Only if it’s okay with her dad.” You comment.

“Go ahead. She could use a friend.” Doug laughs and Stella blushes of embarrassment.

You come out from around the counter and walk over. You bend down in front of Stella and offer her a smile then crinkle your eyes.

“What do you say to some shopping?” You offer. As if a light illuminates her face, she beams a big childish smile and your heart warms. You wave goodbye to Kevin and Doug and take hold of Stella’s hand as you begin your adventure to the store on foot.

She was little. A cute little girl with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. She reminds you of Shirley Temple.

“So Stella.” You begin. “How old are you?” You look down at her as answers.

“Four.”

“Wow! Four! That’s so big! You are so old now. You must have dentures and gross Carmel candies weighing you down girl!” You exhaderrated.

She laughs. “Noooo~! I’m only four! I’m not growed up yet.”

“You aren’t?! But I swear I saw you in the nursing home harassing nurses for an extra blanket while you knit!”

She laughs again. Her laugh is so happy and childish you can’t help but laugh too. After a while she tells you her arm hurts from holding it up to hold your hand. You decide to pick her up and carry her to the store.

It was only a few more minutes away.

~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~

You and Stella got to the store a few steps ago. She was so light you carried her on your hip like a baby with little to no issue. To make her laugh you pretend you were a wizard making the automatic doors open. She bursts out in a fit of giggles. She was so easy to make laugh.

“You want down?” You look to her and ask.

“….noo.. I like it here…” she whined embarrassed. You smiled and picked up a little basket before handing it to her.

“Hold this. Tell me if it gets to heavy.”

She nods in understanding and the pair of you begin to shop for nothing in particular. You were on a mission toward the candy isle when you turned a corner and bumped into a brick wall. Luckily with the way you were turning Stella wasn’t hurt but dear god who put that wall there? You open your eyes when you retrieve the breath that was viciously knocked from your chest. It looks as if the wall was doing the same. Henry Bowers. Of course.

You couldn’t escape him.

“Fuckin watch iiii-……” Henry trailed off when he noticed you. You…and a little girl on your hip who looked scared of him as she hid her face in your hair. He trailed his eyes back up to yours and you looked pissed. You huff and walk around him without a word. If he told you that he was confused on why you acted like that, you would laugh in his face. He treats you like shit. Throws a cigarette at you. Almost runs you over, and now that he wants to be all fucking friendly, he’s confused? This guy is something else.

He follows you and you try to ignore him and focus on Stella. “Here.” You say. Handing Stella some animal crackers to put in her basket. “Do you want any candy hun?” Stella nods frantically and sets her eyes on something. You set her down to let her go get what she wanted and follow her. Halfway to her an arm gently slides around your waist to stop you.

“Why did you walk away?”

You click your tongue in annoyance. How the fuck does he not understand.

“Gee I don’t know Henry. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you tried to run me over then told me to and I quote “stay the fuck out of my town’.” You hiss in a mock thinking voice.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He grunts.

“Yeah I’m sure. And you totally didn’t throw a lit cigarette at me either?” You laugh from how utterly preposterous that sounds. “Look I’m busy, leave me alone.” With that you turn and walk toward Stella. But he didn’t leave you alone. He followed you to her and before you stop in front of her, he beats you there and crouched to her level.

“Henry, stop it.” You huff.

He ignores you completely. “What’s your name?” He asks the blonde little girl. Her cheeks redden in embarrassment and she looks at you. You nod letting her know she can answer.

“S…Stella.” She answers then runs around him to hide behind your legs. He looked up at you and smiled. He gently takes the basket from Stella and stands. Henry wanders back to the candy as if he himself is shopping. He dramatically scratches his head with one finger to feign stupidity.

“Stella, can you help me pick one out? I don’t really eat sugar so I have no idea.” Oh my god. he’s trying to get to you through the kid you are watching? What a psycho.

Her shyness dissipates and she stops hiding behind you. She meekly walks to him and starts pointing to a few things she likes. Henry picks up the few bags she points at and drops them in her basket. He looks bsck to you with expectation as the 2 slowly begin walking to the check out line. You let out a dramatic groan and lightly jog to pick Stella up.

At the checkout line Henry and Stella mix both of their items and the cashier scans everything y’all got and a says the total.

Fuck. You were 10$ short. You weren’t expecting to pay for Henry too. You look around at the items and start asking the cashier to take off your snacks and drink. Before you could even get a word out Henry pulls out all the money in his wallet and pays. The casheir takes the money with an obnoxious pop of her gum. Henry picks up all the bags. Stella follows him out the door while you tail behind them, sulking.

You all saunter out of the store and Stella looks at you like she has a question.

“Yes hon?” You prompt her.

“Can I walk ahead to the spot? I wanna get there first before anyone else!” She explained. You had told her before you got to the store that you would have a picnic with her by the park playground so when she was done eating she could play while you watched her.

You smile kindly. “How about you walk just a little ahead of us. Not too far, but you’ll get there first. Maybe… 6 feet ahead of us.” You negotiate.

She nods with determination and starts to walk with purpose. You giggle gently and follow her. A couple minutes into walking, you look at Henry. He’s still walking with you. He’s not talking or anything. Just still walking.

“Why are you still here Henry?” You say, hushed so Stella won't. hear from not too far ahead

“…I wanted to talk to you…”

“What about?” You ask with a feigned indifference, almost bored voice.

“…I didn’t mean to throw my cig at you..it really was just for Mike.”

Is this his idea of an apology? It’s a pretty shitty one if it is.

“I don’t believe you.” You state stubbornly. Henry looks to you and your eyes meet. He tries to say something but you hold your hand up. “But I also don’t have to believe you for something to be true. You could have really not thought about me while you did any of that. And I still not believe you. At the end of the day I was still involved.”

He looks confused.

You put your eyes back on Stella and continue walking. “You told me last night that we weren’t friends and I understood that. But friends or not I won’t let you go around terrorizing my friends for no fucking reason. You either are targeting me with them. Or you target none of us. I’m not a fucking bystander. If you fuck with them with your little raggedy ass friends I have every right to push back. Whether you are nice to me in private or not.”

Henry blinked at you. You were right. There was no room for arguing, he understood everything you said. He couldn’t explain that you were different, because in literally every category you weren’t. The two of you continued on silently to the park with Stella. Henry opted for a more secluded bench where you could still see Stella but no one could really see you. You knew it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. You couldn’t help it when that realization shot sorrow and insecurity down your spine.

You, Stella and Henry sit down at a park bench and table and you spread out all the food and snacks. Stella had the most adorable smile on her face. You made all of her food first before you even touched yours and Henry’s food. As fast as she sat down, she ate half her sandwich and went to play. You begin on Henry’s while he silently watches over her on the playground to make sure she’s okay while you are destracted.

This was nice. You couldn’t think of one word to explain it. It was… cozy, warm, and weirdly peaceful. A kid, a babysitter and a psycho. Who could think of a better Friday afternoon?

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Thank for your patience. Hope you enjoyed. Regular posting will be back again soon if you would like to be tagged in updates please ask!

@amber-sekio update!

[differenteagletragedy]

Hi, would you be willing to do some headcanons about mc and Cliff? (platonic of course). I just love Cliff so much.

ME TOO! Here you go :)

-- When they move to town, Cove has never had a friend like you before, so Cliff is SO EXCITED to see how close you two become.

-- Pizza parties? Trips to the movies? Amusement parks? Cliff is thinking of everything a kid would ever want to do, making plans for it and asking your moms if you can come too.

-- If 8-year-old you needs a booster seat, he'll just get one and keep it in his car, ndb.

-- As time goes on, you become like another kid to Cliff, which means you are the second best kid in the universe.

-- Do you have a play at school, or a recital or a sports game? Even if Cove isn't involved, Cliff is there and cheering loud.

-- Is there some kind of "Bring Your Dad to School" event? Cliff is going to be there for Cove, and he would never put himself in that role for you without you bringing it up first, but if you want him to be there for you too then he will!

-- And then he'll cry.

-- Your moms put him on the list of people who can pick you up from school. Sometimes they get busy, and since Cliff owns his own shop his schedule can be a little more flexible. If you get sick and need to be picked up from school, he can come get you!

-- He's at work one day and the school calls, and he tells Mr. Suarez that he has to go get you, and a regular is in there like "I didn't know you had another kid!" And "No, I don't -- well, yeah, kind of." And then he'll cry.

-- Cliff cries so much I love him

-- If you're a girl, I think Cliff would be a protective girl dad. Like he's not trying to enforce any stereotypes, but he makes it clear that if you need any help with anything, if anybody bothers you then to come to him and he'll take care of it.

-- Like I just imagine in Step 3, you working at the tropical place with Cove and some people give you a hard time, like maybe another employee is being inappropriate or weird, and Cove mentions it in passing and Cliff is like "Oh really?" Then he goes to the restaurant later, finds whoever it was and gives them quite a talking to.

-- It's just that whatever you do, regardless of whether Cove is involved or not, Cliff is there for you in the same way a parent would be. College graduation, any sort of event, anything.

-- He has pictures of you in the family photo albums, both because you're always around and also because you're family.

-- Even if you end up with Baxter or Derek, if you have kids then Cliff is grandpa. He'll babysit and be involved.

-- What I'm trying to say is that Cliff is your dad, and it's not like a "oh, he's like my father" thing, no, he is your dad.

-- If you get married to Baxter or Derek and want him to walk you down the aisle, he absolutely would but be ready for the waterworks.

[lousypotatoes]

Everyone From The Place

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11 Pt. 12

Song Recommendation:

Everybody Loves My Baby - Jack Palmer

Warning! This chapter had mentions of physical/mental abuse and panic attacks, and depictions of mental abuse. If any of these topics trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please read with caution.

90 years ago...

It had been about a month since Y/N and Alastor went out drinking together, the two of them going out every other day, whether it be getting drinks, getting dinner or lunch together, or just the two of them walking around New Orleans.

Y/N would never admit it to anyone, but she was absolutely head over heels in love with Alastor. The way he talked, the way he presented himself, how he was such a gentleman, she loved every part of him and so much more.

Alastor felt the same way about her, maybe even more. The way her face lit up whenever she talked about flowers or Honey, her sense of humor, the way she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She didn't know it, but she had Alastor wrapped around her finger.

And he loved every single second of it.

"That'll be three dollars, ma'am," Y/N said smiling, handing over the bouquet of lilies to the woman.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman smiled, handing Y/N money. "You have a lovely shop,"

"Well, thank you kindly," Y/N said. "I'm guessin' you're visitin' from outta town?"

"How did you know?" the woman asked.

"Every soul here in New Orleans has stepped foot in my shop at least once," Y/N said, handing the woman her change.

"For good reason," the woman said. "It's very impressive what you've done with the place. Not a lot of women can say that they own a thriving business. Especially during these trying times."

"Ah, I get that a lot," Y/N said. "Where you from anyway? If you don't mind me askin' of course."

"A small little town in Kansas," the woman said. "My daughter lives here and I'm visiting for her birthday."

"That's nice," Y/N gushed. "You tell her I said happy birthday. You have a good rest of your day ma'am."

"You as well, dear," the woman said as she walked out the door.

Y/N took the cash from the register and put it in the back room. While she was in there, she checked her schedule. She was glad that she didn't have to kill anyone that night. Even though she had been doing it for 15 years, the job left her exhausted and sleep deprived.

Who knew being an assassin was such hard work?

Walking out the backroom door, she saw a familiar face, looking at the arrange of flowers, holding a brown paper bag.

"What'll it be today Alastor?" Y/N said loudly, making him jump.

"Don't scare me like that, dear," he said, adjusting his coat. "I could of knocked over the flowers."

"You tip over any of them vases, you're payin' the bill," she laughed. "Besides, that was payback for all the times you've scared me."

"All right, all right," Alastor said, walking over to the counter. "I'll take these here marigolds."

"Marvelous pick," Y/N said. "That'll be four bucks,"

"How's business today?" Alastor asked, taking out money.

"Slow, but that's because no one wants to come outta their house, it's so hot out here," Y/N laughed. "How was the broadcast this morning? I didn't get the chance to listen to it."

"It went alright," he said, taking his change. "There were these women who kept trying to wriggle their way into the station, though."

"Seems like you have some mighty eager fans," she giggled. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you for reminding me," he said, handing her the brown bag. "I figured you wouldn't want to go out in this blistering heat, so I fetched you some lunch."

Y/N was touched. "You didn't have to do that, Al,"

"Yes, but I wanted to,"

Y/N reached into the bag. "Oh! You got me gumbo!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up in the way Alastor loved. "How'd you know?"

"I remember you telling me once," Alastor smiled.

"Thank you so much Alastor!" Y/N said. "Tell you what, tomorrow night, swing by my place and I'll whip up a batch of jambalaya for you."

Alastor's face turned red, the two of them had never been to each others house before. The only times were when Alastor would pick Y/N up for their outings together. Him only ever stepping foot in her living room.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N," Alastor said, covering his blushing face.

"Nonsense!" Y/N waved off. "It's the least I can do for you, fetchin' me lunch."

"Well, if you insist, my dear," Alastor said. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to make it to my-"

"-2'oclok broadcast. Yes I know," Y/N interrupted. "I know the routine by heart now."

Alastor smiled, taking Y/N's hand in his "I shall see you tomorrow then, Y/N." he said, kissing her knuckle.

"I'm lookin' forward to it already," Y/N blushed.

Looking at her face one more time, smiling gently to himself, he left the store.

When he left, Y/N started giggling to herself. She was so in love with him. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. She was so distracted that she didn't even hear the bell ring, signaling that a customer came in.

"Seems like you finally got this establishment up and runnin'," said a voice that made Y/N freeze, her eyes widening.

She turned and saw a man with wavy brown hair and cold eyes. Someone that made her blood freeze and goosebumps appear all over her skin. Someone that made her skin go pale and her breathing quicken. Someone that made her freeze in fear.

"What? So startled by my appearance that you're speechless?" the man smirked.

"W-What-" she stuttered, finding her voice. "What in God's name are you doin' here, Jasper?"

"Ain't I allowed to visit my fiancé at work?" Jasper said, coming closer to the counter.

"That was fifteen years ago!" she said, backing into the wall. "Me and you are nothin' now!"

"Just because I ended up behind bars doesn't mean we're finished,"

"That's exactly what that means!" she yelled. "You know you can't be within fifty feet of me. Now leave before I call the cops!"

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up a vase of carnations, admiring them.

CRASH!

Glass shards and flowers were scattered all over the floor.

"Oops," Jasper said.

"I mean it Jasper!" Y/N said. "Get the fuck out!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that again, you worthless bitch," he said, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Unless you want me to beat you to a bloody pulp, just like old times."

Y/N backed into the wall, lost for words.

For the first time in fifteen years, Y/N felt scared.

"Just go away, Jasper," she whispered. "Please. I don't want any trouble."

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up another vase and dropping it onto the floor.

Without another word, Jasper left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N's body shut down, her having to grab onto the counter to support herself. She let out a sob she didn't even know she was holding in, her cries bouncing off the flower shop walls, and her tears streaming down her face.

After about ten minutes of this, she got out a broom, and started sweeping up the glass shards and flowers. After she was done, she leaned up against the wall. Looking up at the clock above her, she saw that it was only two-fifteen.

"I need a drink," she said, exhausted.

It was now five-thirty, Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her fourth thing of whiskey.

As soon as she closed up the flower shop, she decided to walk to Mimzy's bar, not bothering to go home and change.

She was there for about thirty minutes. Mimzy had been over to check on Y/N during those, sensing that she wasn't okay. Y/N had told Mimzy she was alright and that she just wanted to be left alone. Mimzy listened and told her that her drinks were free for the rest of the time she was there.

Already deciding before she got there, Y/N didn't want to get blackout drunk, but just drunk enough to where she would forget her and Jasper's interaction.

Sipping on her whiskey, Y/N felt angry at herself. She could have shot that asshole right in his head if she wanted to, she was an assassin for crying out loud.

But Jasper was the one person she was genuinely afraid of.

"Why aren't you smiling, my dear?" said a voice from behind her. "You know you're never fully dressed without one."

"Hi, Alastor," she said, not even turning to look at him.

Alastor frowned, knowing that something was wrong.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, keeping her gaze on her glass. "I just had a bad interaction with a customer, that's all."

Alastor stayed silent as he sat down at the bar next to her.

"Would you like to me to keep you company?" he asked gently. "Or would you like me to leave?"

"Stay here," Y/N said, holding back tears. She felt pathetic. "Please."

"Alright then," he said.

"If I would have known you'd be here, I would have invited you," she said, sipping on her whiskey.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," he waved off. "I was already thinking about inviting you here anyways."

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Y/N said.

"Well in that case," he said, getting up and offering her his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Y/N smiled before taking his hand.

"You always know the best things to say, Al,"

It was now nine-thirty. During those four hours at the bar, Isabell and Alastor had drank, danced, talked, laughed, and smoked. Isabell was glad that Alastor showed up randomly out of the blue. She always felt better when Alastor was close by.

Alastor didn't tell Y/N this, but Mimzy had actually called her, saying "You better get your fuckin' ass over here. Something ain't right with your girl."

As soon as he hung up the phone, he headed straight to Mimzy's bar.

Right now, Alastor was currently walking Y/N home, the two of them talking about his mother's jambalaya recipe.

"Think your ma would be willin' to share her recipe?" Y/N asked.

"I don't think she'd have an issue with it," he answered. "You'd have to meet her first."

"Oh, I would love to meet your ma!" she said. "Do you think she'd like me?"

"She already adores you, darling,"

"I'm guessin' you've talked to your ma about me then?" Y/N giggled seeing Alastor's blushing face.

"What's not to talk about?" Alastor replied, making Y/N's face turn red.

They reached Y/N's house, the two of them walking up to her front porch. They were facing each other, Y/N was looking up at Alastor, while Alastor was looking down at Y/N, the two of them so close together.

"Thank you for helpin' me take my mind off today, Al," she said, looking up at him in a way that made Alastor's breath get caught in his throat.

"It really wasn't a problem, dear, you don't have to thank me," he said. "If you need help with anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Are we still set for jambalaya tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"

It was quiet, the two of them not saying a word.

Oh, how desperately the two of them wanted to wrap their arms around each other and kiss until they had to break apart for air.

The air between them was thick, and heavy with tension.

Alastor's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips and back to her eyes.

"Y/N..." he swallowed hard. "May I...is it alright if I kiss you?"

"Yes," Y/N whispered. "It's alright."

As gentle as he possibly could, he lifted up her chin with his fingers.

Alastor hesitated for a moment, the look on his face asked 'Are you sure this is alright?'

Y/N nodded slowly and Alastor closed the gap between them, placing his lips on hers.

His lips were soft and warm and tasted like cinnamon. Just like everything else he did, his touch was gentle. It made Y/N feel like her heart was about to burst out of chest. Testing out the fields, she very slowly and shyly moved her hands to the back of his neck.

Alastor tensed up for a moment, but relaxed, moving his hands and placing them on her hips. The way their lips moved perfectly against each other made Alastor's heart melt. The way he was feeling in that moment, he was addicted to it like a drug and wanted more of it.

Like a starved man, Alastor craved Y/N's touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Oh, you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that, dear," Alastor breathed out, kissing her forehead.

"Oh, I think I do," Y/N said. "How about one more? To make up for lost time?"

"You read my mind," he laughed before placing his lips on hers once more.

THEY KISSED RAHHHHHHH

literally i am so happy

i wanna give alastor a big o'l kiss

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust

@trippoverrt

@slytherin4ever

@lucifers-silhouette

@a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o

@cutiebimbo

@mommymilkers0526

@mikariell95

@al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world

@bibliophile-yomna

@mysticwitchcraftco

[kingofbasicfanfiction]

D. Hale: The Beginning

Stiles looks down when he feels the bed dip. He locks eyes with Derek Hale’s scarlet glowing ones as the werewolf, who’s completely naked, crawls up, over Stiles’ body. Derek staddles Stiles' chest, planting his knees on either side of the human’s shoulders, trapping him beneath his herculean body.

His furry, bull balls rest on Stiles’ chin, and his massive, uncircumcised cock lords over Stiles’ face. Stiles looks up at Derek’s hairy and muscular body with reverence.

Derek grips his cock and starts slapping Stiles’ face repeatedly. Stiles closes his eyes, welcoming Derek’s assault.

Derek gives an approving growl. “That’s it pup, submit to your alpha’s big dick.” He snarls, making Stiles whimper.

Stiles' eyes fly open when Derek’s rain of attacks ceases. Derek’s now jerking himself off, fucking into his palm. His foreskin is pulled back revealing his red, engorged mushroom head, that’s aimed directly at Stiles’ face.

“Here it comes pup! Going to mark you as mine!” Derek warns. Not even a moment later he tilts his head back and roars as he cums. Just before it’s about to land on Stiles’ face, Stiles starts awake on his couch. 

Stiles groans, another wet dream starring Derek Hale. This has been going on for a month now. Stiles gets up to shower and then makes a pot of coffee; he has some enchanted pendants to make.

It’s been 8 years since Stiles stumbled into the supernatural. Since then, Stiles has become quite proficient at magic. So much so that he’s made it his career. Stiles has a magical shop that sells potions, talismans, runes, and wards. Most of his sales are done online.

As Stiles drinks his coffee he looks out into the woods. He lives in a spacey, one floor cabin, just behind his shop. 

Stiles used to be the only member of the pack who still resided in Beacon Hills. That changed when Derek moved back a month ago, coinciding with the start of Stiles’ Derek-centric dreams. 

Stiles was shocked to spot Derek walking around town. Stiles also finds it completely unfair that Derek somehow became hotter.

Derek’s hair and facial hair are styled the same but his sideburns and beard are peppered with gray hairs, even though he’s only thirty. It makes him look distinguished and sexier.

The two of them used to be the same height but Derek has gone through a growth spurt. He’s now 6 foot 9, towering over Stiles. 

And that’s not the only growth Derek’s had. Derek was already built like a greek god, but over the last couple of years he’s added over 75 pounds of pure muscle. Now he’s 300 pounds of werewolf steel, looking like a bodybuilder.

Stiles and Derek have never been close but it stings how aloof and distant Derek is with him when they bump into each other. It’s like even acknowledging Stiles ruins his day. What makes it worse is the huge crush Stiles has harbored for Derek since they first met in the woods.

Stiles groans, realizing that he’s daydreaming about the guy who despises him again.This is getting out of hand; Stiles doesn’t know why this is happening. Stiles hates it, but he's gonna have to ask for help.

Stiles pulls out his phone and calls Scott. After highschool, Scott’s been traveling the world and learning everything he can from friendly werewolf packs he’s come by. Hopefully he’ll have an answer.

“Hey Stiles.” Scott’s cheerful voice answers. 

“Hi Scott, listen, I could use some advice. A new client of mine is a human and dreams of his werewolf packmate every night. Do you have any idea why that is?” Stiles lies. A rune tattooed on his body is hiding his irregular heartbeat over the phone. 

“Hmm? I think I know what’s happening. It sounds like they’re mates. With them being pack, a mating bond has started to form. But for some reason the werewolf hasn’t told the human or acknowledged the bond.” Scott explains, “So no need for magic. Just tell him to tell his mate to pull his head out of his ass.” Scott ends with a joke.

Stiles laughs along with Scott, pretending that he’s not seething with anger. If this is true then Stiles is gonna eviscerate Derek.

“Thanks Scott, you’re a lifesaver. So when will you be visiting Beacon Hills again?” Stiles asks.

“In a few months. I’m in Tibet right now, learning from some werewolf monks. Oh I gotta go, Stiles, it’s time for meditation. I’ll talk to you later.” Scott says then hangs up.

Stiles is trembling with rage as he quickly pulls on some jeans and a t-shirt. He then hops into his jeep. He doesn’t care that it’s 6 in the morning, he's gonna tear Derek a new one.

20 minutes later he pulls up to Derek’s huge house, in the middle of the woods. Derek hired an architectural firm to rebuild his family house. 

Stiles gets out of his jeep and walks up the stairs.

Stiles raises his hand to pound on the door when it swings open. Stiles comes face-to-face with a massively muscular chest in a tight, black v-neck. The dip of the collar shows off the upper portion of the man's rippling pecs and a crop of black chest hair.

Stiles looks up, his honey eyes connecting with the emerald ones of Derek Hale. 

Stiles is temporarily stunned by the werewolf’s good looks. Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles, reminding him why he’s here. Stiles glares as he shoulder-checks Derek, heading inside. 

Stiles winces as he walks past Derek, who didn’t even budge. That felt like shouldering a brick wall. Derek follows him.

Stiles finally turns to face Derek in his large and extravagant living-room. Derek looks extremely nervous and uncomfortable, further raising Stiles' hackles.

Stiles folds his arms as he stares Derek down. “So were you ever going to tell me that I’m your mate?”

Derek's eyes go wide as saucers.

“How did you find out?” Derek asks, sounding defeated.

“What the hell does that matter, Derek? Why didn’t you tell me we’re mates?” Stiles explodes.

Derek doesn’t seem to know what to say. 

“Do you hate me so much that you refuse to acknowledge that we’re mates?” 

Derek’s eyes lock onto Stiles’. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Stiles. I couldn’t ask for a better mate than you. You’re intelligent, brave, loyal, and sexy as hell.” 

Derek openly appreciates Stiles’ appearance, looking him up and down, making Stiles blush. 

“If that’s the truth then why? Why don't you want me?”

“You don’t get it Stiles. I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” Stiles cries, exasperated.

“From myself!” Derek roars. Derek’s eyes are shining red and his lips are peeled back, flashing his sharpened teeth.

Derek stalks forward, crowding into Stiles’ space, peering down at him, over his massive chest. Stiles isn’t even the slightest bit scared, knowing Derek would never harm him.

“Stiles, every time I see you I want to rub myself all over you until you smell like mine. I want to take you, impale you on my fat cock, and fill you with my seed. But most of all, Stiles, I want to bite you on your shoulder, and claim you as my mate.” Derek angrily slurs over his fangs. His warm and minty breath fanning over Stiles’ face.

Derek’s beta shift melts away. “But I can’t. Stiles, you deserve better than me.”

This sparks Stiles’ anger. “This is totally unfair, Derek. This involves both of us so I should have a say. Derek, you are strong, kind, and protective. Think about it, I’ve always been the safest when you’re around. You’ve never let anyone harm me when you were nearby. But right now, the only one hurting me is you. Have you not realized that I’ve been in love with you for years? Derek, if you asked me to be your mate, I’d say yes in a heartbeat.”

Derek clenches his eyes closed, holding back his lycan side. 

He’s being his usual, self-sacrificing self, even though it’s not needed. They both want this so Stiles decides to play a little dirty.

“You know what, Derek? I understand.” Derek’s eyes pop open at this. “You hate that we’re mates because you hate me.” Stiles accuses.

Stiles jumps when a snarl erupts out of Derek. Derek shifts back into his beta form.

“Hate you?” Derek growls.

Derek’s big hands easily spin Stiles around. Stiles then feels Derek slot his hulking, muscular body behind him. Stiles gasps as he feels Derek's huge bulge pressing against his ass.

Derek starts rolling his hips, rocking his hard member against Stiles’ ass. 

Derek leans in and seductively whispers into Stiles' ear, “Mhmm? Are you sure? Does that feel like Daddy hates you?”

That punches the air out of Stiles’ lungs.

Stile must have made a telling noise because Derek croons into his ear. “What’s that Stiles? Do you want me to be your Daddy? To take care of you? Look after you? And fuck you real good? Hmm, Stiles? Do you wanna be mine? Be my good little pup?” Derek sultry growls. 

Derek’s words have Stiles groaning. “God yes, Derek, but only if you want this too. I refuse to go any further if you are against this.”

Derek sighs, tiredly. He turns Stiles around to face him.

Derek wipes his face with his hand. Stiles can’t help but notice how big Derek’s hand is and how good it felt to be manhandled by them. 

Derek's nostrils flare, smelling Stiles’ arousal. He glances at his hands and a naughty smirk forms on his lips. Derek places his meaty mitts on Stiles’ hips. His large hands nearly encircle Stiles’ slim waist. Derek pulls him in so they’re crotch-to-crotch.

Stiles moans as Derek gives a subtle roll of his hips, letting Stiles feel his hardening manhood. Derek leans down, pressing his forehead against Stiles’. “Stiles, I’m sorry for being a selfish dumbass for so long. I’m done denying myself what I want. And what I want is you. Now you better say ‘no’ now or I’m going to kiss you like I’ve always wanted to, pup.” Derek deliciously threatens. God, this domineering and confident Derek is Stiles’ kryptonite.

Stiles doesn’t hesitate. He tilts his head back, allowing Derek to slot their mouths together.

Derek’s tongue licks the seam of Stiles’ lips, wanting entry, and Stiles grants it. Derek rumbles in approval, finally getting to taste his mate.

Stiles wantonly whines as Derek’s tongue thoroughly dominates his mouth.

Derek pulls away, breathing heavily. His eyes keep flashing from red to their normal green. 

“Pup, the sounds you are making, I just want to fuck you right here and now.” Derek groans.

“Derek, please, I want you.” Stiles begs.

Derek gives Stiles a little nip on the ear, punishing him. “Ask correctly, pup.” Derek haggardly whispers in Stiles’ ear.

“Please, Daddy.” Stiles retries. 

Derek rewards Stiles with a kiss just below his ear. “Good boy.”

What Stiles isn’t expecting is for Derek to let him go and take a seat on the couch, with his legs spread wide open.

Derek then takes off his shirt and tosses it behind the couch. Stiles is drooling at the sight of Derek’s ripped pecs and 8-pack, covered in a pelt of black hair sprinkled with grays.

With a naughty grin he curls his finger, beckoning Stiles. “Be a good pup for Daddy and come here.” He commands.

Stiles obeys, nearly running until he’s standing in between Derek’s spread legs, making Derek laugh.

Derek points to the floor. “Kneel down in between Daddy’s feet.” 

Stiles gently falls to his knees before Derek. Derek’s jacked quads bracketing either side of Stiles’ shoulders.

Derek leans back and scooches his crotch closer to Stiles’ face. “Release me, pup.” Derek orders.

With shaking hands, Stiles grabs the waistband of Derek’s sweatpants.

After tugging them down a few inches, Stiles is met with a mass of pubic hair and the thick base to Derek’s massive cock. This proves that Derek likes going commando. 

Derek arches his ass up so Stiles can work down his sweats. When they’re below his ass… THWACK

Derek’s 11 inches springs out. It heavily and wetly smacks against his cobblestone abs, leaving a smattering of pre. It’s a one-eyed monster! 

Derek is uncircumcised. His engorged, red knob is peeking out of his foreskin. His monstrous meat is thick as Stiles' wrist and veiny. At the base of it is an excess of skin. That’s where Derek’s knot forms.

This is followed by Derek’s huge, low-hanging bull balls. They’re the size of grapefruits. 

Stiles’ mouth is watering.

Derek's eyes are burning red, and filled with heat as they catch Stiles’. That’s when Derek grabs his cock and tilts it up, revealing its undercarriage to Stiles. 

“Hmm, why don’t you be Daddy’s good pup and taste me.” Derek suggests but it sounds more like a command. A command that Stiles is all too happy to obey.

Stiles leans forward, sticking out his tongue. 

Derek moans as he feels Stiles’ warm tongue tracing the fat vein running along his length from its underside. 

“Oh, that’s Daddy’s good fucking pup!” Derek praises

Stiles does this several times, licking from the base to the head.

Derek is moaning and complementing Stiles’ ingenious tongue. Derek’s cock head slips more and more out of its hood, and is leaking much more pre. 

Derek gently shoves Stiles' head away. At first Stiles is annoyed but then he watches as Derek aims his cock at his mouth.

Derek pulls back his foreskin, letting Stiles take in its entire, pulsing red mushroom head. Derek’s cock is a thing of beauty.

Derek grips his cock and starts painting Stiles’ lips with his pre.

“Fuck pup, for years I’ve been dreaming about this. Your cute little mouth stretched around Daddy’s big cock.” Derek says, reverently.

Stiles can’t help but lick his lips. He moans loving the taste of Derek’s salty and musky pre. 

This act drives Derek wild. Gripping his fat cock with one hand, he uses the other to hold the top of Stiles’ head, keeping him in place. “You like the taste of your Daddy? Well then open up, pup, here comes your breakfast.”

Derek places his weeping cock head on Stiles’ tongue and pushes forward until ⅓ of his dick is in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles instinctively wraps his lips around the throbbing organ.

“Mhmm, that’s a good pup. Now start sucking for Daddy.” Derek orders.

Stiles hollows his cheeks, sucking on Derek’s thick cock, and licking under his foreskin. 

Stiles moans around Derek’s cock, loving his earthy and musky taste. 

Derek tilts his head back and groans from the vibrations. 

“Fuck pup, your mouth is heaven.” 

Wanting more, Stiles works his lips further down Derek’s girth as he continues to blow him.

When Derek feels his head touching the back of Stiles’ throat, he tangles his fingers into his mate’s hair, stopping him. “You can stop right there, pup. I don’t want you choking yourself. Daddy’s cock is very big.” Derek advises.

Stiles looks up at Derek. Although his mouth is stretched wide open around Derek, the corner of his lips curl upward.

Catching Derek off guard, Stiles dives forward, burying the werewolf’s gargantuan meat down his throat. Stiles doesn't gag. Instead, he moans again, vibrating Derek’s cock deliciously while his throat muscles tighten and relax around his shaft.

Derek’s mouth falls open and his eyes roll into the back of his head. He’s never felt such pleasure. Derek’s dick has always been unnaturally big. Because of this no one has ever been able to take him entirely into their mouth. But here Stiles is, doing it and not gagging in the slightest. 

Derek looks down, over his heaving, mountainous pecs and sees Stiles looking back up at him. His eyes are watery but hold a confidence that makes Derek fall more in love with him. 

Stiles pulls his mouth off of Derek and flashes him a shit-eating grin. “Sorry Daddy, but I forgot to tell you that I don’t have a gag reflex.” 

A low, pleased growl rumbles from deep within Derek’s chest. Derek takes his thumb and runs it across Stiles’ bottom lip. 

Stiles opens his mouth and suckles on the salty pad of Derek’s thumb, making Derek growl again. Stiles loves that sound. It's so hot. 

“Fuck pup, your talented mouth is a treasure. And it belongs to Daddy alone, no one else.” Derek says softly, a dangerous threat underlying his words.

Stiles whines while still sucking on Derek’s thumb. Loving Derek’s possessiveness. 

Derek pulls his thumb out of Stiles’ mouth and grabs his dick by the root. “Back to work, pup. Daddy’s dick needs your mouth.”

Stiles wraps his lips around Derek’s huge member. He sucks on Derek’s helmet that’s still dribbling like a waterfall. He licks under the werewolf’s foreskin, savoring the taste of his smegma. 

Derek’s huge body is shaking, and he’s breathing faster, loving the attention his cock is receiving from Stiles’ mouth. 

Derek grabs two handfuls of Stiles’ hair, gently encouraging his human to take more of him. 

Derek has to hold himself back. Unchecked, he might hurt his mate by going too rough.

Stiles pulls off of Derek’s hardness and looks up at the werewolf, slightly annoyed. 

“Derek, stop holding back. I’m not fine china, you’re not going to break me by going rougher. In fact I want it rough.”

Derek remains silent with a hesitant expression.

Stiles doesn’t feel too guilty about manipulating the brooding werewolf. The guy seems to believe that he doesn’t deserve happiness. 

While keeping eye contact with Derek, Stiles licks the bead of pre forming on Derek’s cock slit, tasting the alpha’s rich pre. 

“Please Daddy, will you stop holding back for me, or do I need to find another Daddy to fulfill my needs?” Stiles moans as he laps up another bead of Derek’s pre.

Derek’s reaction is instantaneous. He stands up, towering over Stiles, eclipsing the lithe human in his enormous shadow. He quickly kicks off the black sweats pooling around his feet. 

Derek’s eyes are burning a fiery red, his mouth is filled with sharpened teeth, and he’s viciously growling.

“No one is allowed to touch you but me! I’ll kill anyone who dares to touch my mate like this.” 

Derek peers down at Stiles, his red eyes filled with obsession. His thick, long cock, throbbing in his mate’s face. 

“Last chance to change your mind, pup. Or I’m going to fuck your face brutally hard without holding back.” Derek darkly promises, making Stiles shiver.

“Yes, please. That's exactly what I want, Daddy.” Stiles begs and gives Derek’s leaking helmet, that’s the size of a kid’s fist, a kitten lick. 

A deep rumble emits from Derek’s chest. “Alright, open up, pup. Daddy’s about to own your mouth.”

Stiles opens his mouth wide, desperate for Derek. 

Without a word of warning, Derek thrusts his massive tool down Stiles’ throat. Stiles’ mouth is stretched around Derek’s thick root and his nose is buried in his hairy pubes.

Stiles nearly chokes from the sudden intrusion, but quickly adapts. He starts working his throat muscles on the werewolf's 11 inches. Stiles also starts moaning, quickly picking up on Derek's love for that. 

From above, Derek groans in pleasure. He threads his fingers through Stiles’ hair on the back of his head, gripping him tight. Next, Derek pulls almost all the way out, leaving only his mushroom head in Stiles’ mouth. Then he thrusts back in, just as hard as before.

Derek’s heavy balls slap against Stiles’ chin with a fleshy smack. 

Derek widens his stance and starts pumping into his mate’s mouth repeatedly. His pace increases with every thrust, working his hips into a blur.

The werewolf's muscular and hairy bubble butt flexes and bounces as he plunders Stiles’ mouth. He’s growling and snarling as he does what he promised: owning Stiles' mouth.

Derek stares down at Stiles with half-lidded eyes filled with lust, as he continues to piston his fleshy battering ram down Stiles’ throat. “Fuck, look at you going to town on Daddy. You must really love Daddy’s fat dick. Well no worries, pup, this big werewolf cock is all yours from now on. You have Daddy’s word.”

Stiles is enthralled with pleasure, the bulge in his jeans attests to that. This experience far exceeds all the wet dreams Stiles’ has had starring Derek Hale.

Stiles moans around Derek’s length, quite literally blowing the werewolf’s mind.

Derek’s a growling and snarling mess. Words of intense lust pour out of him as he mercilessly face fucks his mate's mouth.

THRUST

“There’s a good pup. Keep sucking on Daddy’s big cock.”

THRUST

“Fuck, you take Daddy’s fat hog so well. It’s like your mouth was made just for me.”

THRUST

“I’m getting close, pup. I hope you’re hungry for a big hot breakfast because I'm about to pump it down your throat.”

THRUST

“Oh fuck, get ready, pup. Here cums Daddy!” 

Derek slams Stiles’ face into his crotch, burying his face into his bushy pubes and keeping him there. 

Stiles feels Derek’s beer-can thick cock somehow swell even larger in his mouth, and feels the vein running beneath the shaft pulsating on his tongue.

Stiles gets nervous when he feels Derek’s knot start to expand just behind his teeth. Thankfully it stops as soon as it starts.

Derek tilts his head back, his face beta shifts, and he unleashes a house-shaking roar. 

With that Derek shoots his load, flooding Stiles’ mouth with his piping hot cum. With how much the werewolf is cumming, Derek’s huge low-hangers aren’t only for show. 

Stiles is trying to swallow as much as he can but the werewolf just keeps cumming. So much so that some starts to dribble out of the corners of Stiles’ mouth.

“Close your eyes, pup. I’m gonna cum on your beautiful face, mark you as mine.” Derek warns before pulling out of Stiles’ mouth and spraying his face with his seed.

Stiles closes his eyes and opens his mouth. He feels rope after rope of Derek’s thick cum coating his face. This act of possessiveness and domination has Stiles’ cumming along with Derek. A visible wet spot is growing on the crotch of Stiles’ jeans.

Derek’s body shudders as he finishes. He places the head of his cock on Stiles' tongue, letting his mate taste the last dribbles of his seed.

Derek falls onto the couch, panting, and letting his werewolf features melt away. Stiles isn’t doing too much better. Still kneeling, he rests his head against Derek’s hard quad, breathing heavily. 

The two feel completely exhausted but good. 

A sexy little grin, that does it for Stiles, grows on Derek’s lips. He grabs his flaccid dick, wet with saliva and cum, and shakes it in Stiles’ face. “Now be a good boy and clean Daddy.”

Stiles moans as he happily goes down on Derek, giving his member a thorough tongue bath. He makes sure to lick beneath every fold of Derek’s foreskin. 

When Stiles is done he lets Derek’s dick fall from his lips.

“Good pup, but you sure made a mess of yourself.” Derek comments before using a finger to scoop up all of his cum, decorating Stiles’ face, and feeding it to him.

Stiles eagerly eats it all.

Derek’s manhood starts to twitch. He’s getting hard again.

Damn werewolves’ nearly non-existent refractory period, Stiles curses to himself.

Stiles is considering round two when he remembers that he has a shop to run. He groans before looking up at the werewolf. “As much as I would love to continue this, Derek, I’ve got to get to work.”

Derek looks both sad and understanding. He gives a tentative nod, “It’s okay.”

Stiles rubs Derek’s hairy, muscular thigh that he isn't resting against. “This wasn’t a one time thing right? You still want to be together?” Stiles asks in a small voice.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow. He stands up, and with his werewolf strength, easily picks up Stiles, and sets him on his feet.

Derek's arms wrap around Stiles like bands of steel, securing the human against his much larger body. 

“No. You’re mine, now and forever!” He snarls, flashing a hint of his elongated canines.

Stiles smiles, liking the sound of that.

Derek bends his neck down and slots their mouths together. 

Stiles moans as Derek’s broad and talented tongue slithers into his mouth and dominates the kiss. 

Once Derek pulls back, Stiles is slightly dazed. He’s never been kissed like that before.

Derek looks quite proud of himself. 

“I guess I better get going.” That’s all Stiles can think to say.

A lopsided grin forms on Derek’s face as he nods. “Come back over tonight. We can discuss more about being mates.” Derek once again suggests/commands something of Stiles. Damn, Derek’s dominant personality has Stiles’ legs feeling like they’re made of jello.

Stiles is ecstatic that they'll be meeting up again in only a few hours. “That sounds great! I’ll see you tonight. But right now I gotta go wash my face and change my clothes before work.” 

Derek grabs Stiles by the wrist, stopping his retreat. His eyes are glowing alpha red. “When you wash your face, don’t use soap. I want all supernaturals to smell that you belong to me.” Derek growls out. Fuck, Derek’s possessiveness is doing a number on Stiles’ selfcontrol. 

Derek’s nostrils flare as he sniffs Stiles' spike of arousal. He gives off a pleased rumble. 

Derek calms himself before grabbing his phone off a nearby coffee table. “Before you leave, let's exchange numbers.” Derek orders. Stiles pulls out his phone, completely on board.

Once they have each other’s numbers, Derek turns away from Stiles. “Leave now Stiles or I won’t be able to stop myself from tossing you to the ground, knotting you, and making you mine.” 

Derek’s threat has the opposite effect. “Stiles!” Derek barks, chastising him for the chemo-signals he’s pumping out.

“Right, sorry, I’ll go.” Stiles heads for the front door. Stiles knows it’s not the case, but can’t help but feel the sting of rejection.

When Stiles reaches the door, Derek’s naked and massive body slams into his back, pinning him against the door. He can both feel and hear Derek heavily breathing in his ear. The door is solid and hard but has no comparison to the hulking werewolf crowding in behind him.

Stiles gasps as Derek starts rolling his hips, grinding his fattening cock against Stiles’ jean-clad ass.

“None of that, pup. Before the night is over, I’m gonna plug your hole with my knot and fill you to the brim with Daddy’s cum.” Derek sultry coos into Stiles' ear. He then gives the shell of Stiles’ ear a lick, making the human moan.

It seems to take all of his will, but Derek backs away, freeing Stiles.

“Go now Stiles, or else.” Derek warns.

Stiles makes a quick escape, out the door and down the steps. He then gets back into his jeep.

The anger that was festering in Stiles when he first arrived, is long gone. Now Stiles is overjoyed that the love he’s always harbored for Derek is reciprocated. Even better, they’re mates.

Before starting his jeep, Stiles updates his contacts on his phone. He puts Derek’s number under the name D. Hale. Everyone will think the D stands for Derek, but in truth it’ll stand for Daddy.

[fromasgardandback]

Harrington Beach House Road Trip

•

not proofread, sorry

masterlist | stranger things summer

Steve’s parents told him he could take some trusted friends to the beach house in the Hamptons as a graduation gift, but he had yet to cash that in until the summer of 1986. It had been a hell of a year and his friends could use the time away. Steve told Nancy, Robin, Eddie, and Y/N to pack up because they were all headed to Hamptons, New York. It would be a thirteen-hour drive that doesn’t include stopping for food and bathroom breaks. Steve suggested leaving the night before and taking turns driving so they could enjoy their time there instead of driving. And because Eddie didn’t have as much money saved for this trip, he offered his van for the trip. It was the best option since it would fit everyone and their luggage. Although they were in his van Robin made sure to bring “good” music as she calls it. That didn’t stop Y/N from playing their special mixtape on the way. She took the opportunity to play it while the others were asleep as well. Along the way, the gang needed to stop for gas three times and for bathroom breaks an additional two times. Their first stop was getting gas out of town. The girls took the time to take aesthetic midnight photos. They were also on snack duty running inside to get a few of everyone’s comfort foods for the long trip ride. It was their third stop overall when Robin can be seen running into a nearby bathroom.

“Who keeps giving Robin drinks? The more she inhales the more we stop and we’re already getting there at sunset.” Eddie groaned leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette. They had already stopped in Ohio and now in Pennsylvania. 

Steve was next up to drive, five hours had gone by, and the beautiful 8 AM sun shined over the beautiful reservoir next to the rest stop. Nancy suggested getting lunch once they reached the Pennsylvania-New Jersey border to which it was grateful for everyone needing to stretch. After lunch, there were two and a half hours left. Thank God because all of them were getting angsty.  Somewhere around 5 PM, they arrived at the house making good timing, especially with New York City traffic. The Washington Bridge was the worst of it, but at least they got to see the city a little while driving through. The salty beach air filled their nostrils driving down Route 27. Eddie parked the van in the driveway of a typical Hamptons home. It was beautiful wood with white trimming. The flowers that were laid out along the front of the house were so pretty. There was a small deck in the backyard leading to the beach. It was a nice little home. It definitely had that Hamptons Nautical feel to it. There was a sunroom in the back that faced the ocean. Across from it was Mr. Harrington’s library slash office. There were three bedrooms and five of them. Steve told Eddie and Y/N to take his parent’s bedroom since it makes him hurl knowing what they have done in there. Eddie certainly did not complain. He dragged his luggage in there along with Y/N and closed the door which Robin dramatically threw herself over the railing fake retching. Robin got a room to herself since as much as Nancy loved Robin, she was a loud snorer. Steve and Nancy looked at each other blushing lightly as they agreed to sleep in the same room, but with a divider in the middle. Eddie, Y/N, and Robin teased the hell out of them for it. Steve ran down the street to pick up some pizzas for the rest of them to have a calm night stretching out and watching a random sitcom. 

They spent their first day leisurely relaxing and trying to catch up on sleep and meal-prepping for their time there. Cooking for the week was left up to the girls. Not that they wanted this responsibility because they are women, but because they didn’t trust Steve and Eddie not to burn the house down. Lunches were easy grab-and-go sandwiches they put together in one meal prep. The same went for breakfast unless they went to a coffee shop, bagel spot, or brunch. Dinner was a little more intense than just a few items here and there. There was more prep into it. Two nights during their stay they went out to dinner, but other than that they stayed in and cooked like a family. Robin, Nancy, and Y/N got along perfectly. They acted like sisters in the kitchen and each of them had specific roles. Whenever Steve would try to come in for another beer Robin would hiss at gim, She did the same to Eddie when he tried to sample from one of their stations. 

Having spent their first day resting and exploring what was around town, they headed to the beach early the next morning to enjoy the day. They stopped into the grocery store and local markets getting a few things they would need for the week.

“I am tanning, getting some swimming in, and sleeping. I need this.” Robin stated laying out all her stuff and slipping a baseball hat on. She turned to let Nancy apply sunscreen. Y/N followed Nancy’s actions and applied sunscreen on Eddie. He wiggled like a baby not wanting to be touched but she refused to take care of a sunburnt Eddie. Y/N had to last summer and it was hell. There was a cooler filled with sandwiches, drinks, and snacks. Sand got everywhere but no one minded. It was better than Indiana mud. The gang swam for a while keeping an eye on their stuff, but Steve got a little worried and went back to sit for a while. Nancy and Robin fell asleep for about an hour under the umbrella shade while Eddie and Y/N walked along the beach finding seashells.

“This trip has made me realize something,” Eddie said picking up yet another seashell to add to his girlfriend's collection.

“What’s that, my love?” She smiled up at him.

“That this is reality and that I am going to marry you someday. So…” Eddie trailed off bending down on one knee and holding up the perfect baby seashell. “With this token is a promise that one day I will make you an honest woman and ask for your hand in marriage. That I will never leave your side and to love you with every fiber in me.” He looked up at her squinting from the sun. Y/N stood there shocked, but tackled him in kissing repeating “I love you” and “yes, yes, yes”. They walked back to their set up hand in hand not mentioning a word to anyone.

Some teenagers from a few houses down set up a beach volleyball net. They saw the gang playing in the water and asked them to join. Mainly because they wanted Nancy on their team. Steve wasn’t all too happy but that gave him motivation to win against the other team. They played for a while before the girls got tired and the boys got too intense. Y/N had to reapply another layer of sunscreen to Eddie before he continued. They started taking monetary bets on who would win. Eddie not being athletic showed them up. There was money at stake, of course, he was going to give it his all. They ended up taking that won money and paid for a nice meal with it for dinner. The next night word got around about some campfire happening. Steve told the group that every once in a while the neighborhood older kids get together and have a bonfire on the beach. 

Some beaches allow bonfires and others don’t, but this specific one did. He knew of a couple because of their parents but it was not like they would turn people down.

“So basically it’s a beach bonfire block party?” Nancy said grabbing a few blankets. Steve nodded and closed the cooler placing it in the car. Eddie brought a small bag of weed thinking that it would give him some sales and Steve wouldn’t notice. Y/N hated the thought that he still had to sell to make enough money, but he has been cutting back which put her at somewhat an ease. They walked down to the beach from the house and spotted the fire easily. In true Steve fashion, he was flirting with every girl there while Nancy sat a little sad.

“You know he’s doing that to get a reaction out of you. You two still harbor feelings, just go for it. And if it doesn’t work, then at least you’ll never keep wondering.” Y/N sat next to Nancy handing her a drink while they watched Steve from across the fire. They were interrupted by a drunk Robin running and yelling happily bare nude into the ocean with a couple of other people. They laughed hard grabbing a towel and wrapping her securely around it making sure no one saw more than they should. Robin would be mortified in the morning, but that was tomorrow’s problem. 

Shinnecock Bay was one of the largest bays in the Hampton’s. It is located in the Hampton Bays which isn’t too far from the house. The group decided to go here for a picnic relax kind of day. Beach days were reserved for fun and soaking up the sun. Lake days were strictly for boating and relaxation.

“There are quite a bit of picnic tables. Let’s pack a lunch and snacks. We could catch a boat ride around the lake as well. I’ll charm my way to get us on one.” Steve said grabbing things we would need.

“What? What charm do you have? How many girls have you been on a date with and are still single?” Robin laughed putting on her sunglasses and slightly shoving his shoulder playfully as she ran down the stairs outside. The lake glistened with the sun shining bright on it. Trees littered the park beautifully which gave enough shade. They brought books and read to themselves, played in the water, and the guys did some light fishing while the girls somehow got their way onto a boat. It saddened them that this was their second to last day here in the Hamptons. This week had been needed for them all, but it was a different lifestyle that everyone except Steve was not used to. Nancy joked about marrying rich to live this type of life and have the rest of them stay over. Before they left, they went tubing and relaxed in their inflatable tubes soaking in the last bit of the day’s sun. The drive back home saddened them. They watched the beautiful water crashing against the sandy beaches one last time heading for boring Hawkins, Indiana. A town where no one wanted to be. The sun was coming up as they were leaving. No one wanted to leave in the middle of the night. They didn’t care if they got home really late. The post-vacation blues were definitely setting in. Robin even teared up a little. 

“Even though we’re all sad, I’m glad we did this trip together,” Steve said looking at all of them. They all agreed happily. Y/N turned the music up higher as they belted songs the rest of the way home.

[alarici]

Day 3: First date / new beginnings 𓃗

rating M, chose not to warn, 3k+ words

They went to the same fucked up boarding school in the '90s. That's what's funny about it, when they run into each other, both on vacation in Rome.

They dated for three months before uni. "Dated." As close to dated as a pseudo-goth wonderkind and a punk-going-nowhere-fast can do, one sun-streaked summer in Brighton. They were both working the same job. They were both the rare classmates who weren't summering in the south of France or Andalusia (with the “th”) or the Canary Islands. Matt was working the teller at a little ice cream shop near Preston Park. Mello made fresh Neapolitan in the back, because he was no good with customers and had a mean face. A beautiful, mean face.

At least Matt thought he was beautiful back then. Because he was. Hair cut at the neck, brushing collarbones. Blond. No zits at eighteen. No stubble or razor burns, either. But mean as anything. A circus lion with a few month left ‘till breaking out of the cage.

Which was what Matt always knew he liked about Mello. I am easy, you are not. But that summer, it was nothing serious. They were just kids. It was just a summer.

Your first heartbreak goes like this: The sun rises over the Island. You deal with the gaggle of weekenders or day trippers. Matt falls in love with the idea of a boy who's headed to LSE for Accounting and Finance. Matt falls in love with the idea that he's cool enough to date this guy. Matt loses £40 in paper bills at the register and learns how to swim.

In all, it was a memorable summer. When Matt’s skipping his classes at his University up north, he'll tell stories, like any boy his age, about popping his cherry with a nice girl, a looker, from his sixth form. Matt won’t talk like that to the blond girls he dates—the dyed blondes he makes out with in club bathrooms or the tall upperclassman he fondles in his friend’s living room. He’ll tell them they’re lovely, beautiful. That he likes their earrings and isn’t just desperate to touch their warm skin and compare, and that he doesn't need to be told, dogmatically—you’ve been found wanting, and but isn’t this what it’s all about?

Only when he’s much older, living in Berlin, he'll tell stories closer to the truth. But those take place in more interesting places. As he tells it: His first time was in Naples, Nantes, or a beautiful town in the Austrian Lakes District. “This beautiful guy I worked with. Like a model, right? He let me suck him off in a club bathroom.” “...in a Hostel suite.” “...on the beach.”

But he never said Brighton, never a desperate, messy thing in the staff-only wash closet. He can’t hide he’s English, but he can keep the details of Mello to himself.

Brighton was small. Those memories are for him alone. Or—he thought they were, that he was the only one who treasured them, and it was only his fault that they ended that way. Imagine his surprise when Mello washes into his life again. With a new haircut—longer, less choir boy, more rockstar. Fitting. A scar on his face. Still beautiful, still handsome, etc. Business casual. Leather boots and expensive cotton pants.

They go on their first date—the kind you're supposed to take grown people too, where you dress up nice and pick out the appropriate cologne and aftershave—at 8 at night on a Tuesday in Milan.

By then, everything about Matt, on the surface, pleads, “I’ve grown, or I've tried to.” He lifts weights on occasion. He smokes a lot less than in his early twenties. He has a job that pays him well and only needs him in the office twice a year. He has a nice Computer Science degree, first class, from the University of York. He’s lived in Dresden, Berlin, Glasgow, Amsterdam, and Marseille. He’s living in Vienna now. He’s had a long term girlfriend, two long-term boyfriends, and many situations and short term vacation flings.

Very honestly, he doesn’t think much of Mello from eight years ago. It’s ancient history. It was a fun summer. A summer of firsts and lasts. A summer spent putting the punctuation on their ten years of knowing each other until then. A summer that ended abruptly (though the writing was on the wall). They never agreed not to stay in touch. That’s just how it happened.

Matt would have followed Mello anywhere, which was why he never sent his application to Imperial College London, and watched as years in London with Mello became a parallel future. Never touching.

In the end, Matt only applied to schools in cities he’d never visited and didn’t particularly want to go to. Leeds, Lancaster. He wanted to get far away from the South. Figured the further from London, the better, if he wasn’t there himself.

He’d been told that he’d “succeed wherever he went.” Less, and with more platitude, than Mello had, but he was still called a “bright kid.” Boarding school was teeming with kids who were dumb as rocks, or bright but lacking a family name or a family friend or a family at all. Mello had raged when he hadn’t gotten into Oxford. As though LSE for economics wasn’t just as good.

So, they meet in Rome. Randomly, in a busy cafe. They’re both twenty seven. Matt’s hair is burnt red—a recent dye job at a salon in another city. He hasn’t dyed his own hair in a few years. Sounds like a fun project for a rainy day when the red goes orange and stale.

Back then, Matt threw himself into and out of bouts of insecurity with abandon. A moment of courage. A moment of cowardice. Repeat. He fell into Mello’s bed because of course, it’s you, it’s Mello. He’d been obsessed with Mello since they met as kids. When Mello finally looked back at him that summer, saying yes wasn’t hard.

Fuck, who wouldn’t say yes.

In this nice cafe in Rome, Matt sees the blond hair out of the corner of his eye. And then black gloves in April. And then a striking face. Mello.

He almost doesn’t call out. Almost doesn't catch Mello’s elbow with a cheeky smile. “Mello! Hi! It’s me.” Too cheerful. Too forced. But it gets Mello’s attention when he jerks away, sees Matt, and pauses.

What if he’s in a relationship? That’s fine. It’s not like...

What if he doesn’t want to speak to me? Matt figures this is also okay. It was Matt that let him get away in the first place.

What if he doesn’t recognize me?

Matt smiles down at the double shot in Mello’s hand. Mid-morning espresso. And Mello looks Matt up and down.

“Matt...” Mello’s voice is deeper than sixth form. No shit. It’s still this thing... this thing that catches Matt off guard. Of course we’ve both changed. Of course you sound like...

“Are you...can we talk right now?” Matt is sure he sounds overeager. Mello is probably busy. It’s a Thursday morning in April. Mello’s probably here on Business. Why Rome but not Milan? Why stepping out for coffee in the north of the city when the financial center is in the south? Why not pull a shot of the office coffee machine?

“Yes. I have some time.” Mello is studying him. Matt feels distinctly judged. Mello’s clothing is quality. Expensive in the casual way. A pretty watch winks on his left wrist. A silver OMEGA with a blue face. Matt looks down at the leather cord knotted with beads around his own wrist. A tourist trinket from the Spanish isles two summers ago. He’s wearing his best jeans, though. His teeth are clean.

Matt watches a plaintive smile, a little ironic, almost genuine, cross Mello’s face as they find a row of counter to stand at, shoulder to shoulder.

It feels wrong to just say, “So, how’ve you been?” But it comes out anyway. 

Matt was the one who initiated, back then. A Friday pregame never left the flat, and they were crushed up against each other on a crusted couch. Liquid courage in his veins. Mello’s face flushed. Mello, happy, smiling at the coworker’s dog. A chocolate lab licking cheese balls off the carpet.

Matt was sitting across Mello’s lap. Lack of couch space. Not uncommon, for them, back then. But Matt got daring. Courage bites teenagers like rats. Matt aimed for Mello’s bitten lips, and that was that.

A summer of fun. More snogging than talking. Holding hands on the Ferris wheel where nobody could see. A polaroid in Matt’s wallet until the cheap velcro thing was stolen in Paris three years ago alongside sixty euros and his apartment key.

“I’m on a flight to Taranto tomorrow.” Mello says, of all things. Not, “I’ve been promoted to senior analyst,” or, “I’m thinking about getting an MBA at INSEAD.” In Matt’s imagination, Mello is important and successful and Matt is still too unambitious, soft, lazy, etc. This was part of their conflict, when Mello made it stand between them. The paradox, or maybe the problem, was that Matt was unambitious, and you can’t love someone hard enough to become a tiger to make the great circus escape for them. You were born in the year of the dog. (Matt was actually born in the year of the horse. Mello the snake. That one, at least, was fitting. Cold blooded and pretty. Matt finds himself reliable like a horse. Prone to nervous kicking.)

“Business or pleasure?” Matt smiles with his teeth and rotates his Americano in his hands.

“Both.”

A lapse of silence. Mello looks completely content for Matt to attempt to call the shots at this reunion. Happy to watch Matt flounder for a worthwhile question.

“It’s—it’s been a while.”

“It’s been nine years,” Mello says, half frown, half conceding that yes. It’s been almost ten years. They’re strangers, practically. Matt hasn’t thought about Mello in a long, long time. He remembered him when his girlfriend broke up with him, “I want to settle down, and it’s clear that you don't.” He remembered him in hour thirty of a forty hour bender in Glasgow, lying in a hostel bed, watching the ceiling melt into shapes and colors.

“What are you doing in Rome?” Mello asks. Taking pity or what, Matt’s not sure. But he ends Matt’s clamouring for a decent reply.

“Visiting a friend.”

“Vacation?”

“Nah.”

“What do you do these days?” A twist on Matt’s question. A challenge. Mello must think Matt’s pissing his life away. That he’s actually gone nowhere fast. Mello and his six thousand euro watch. Matt and all his insecurity, his newly dyed hair. The obvious hole near the sleeve on his Jersey cotton T-shirt.

“I’ve got a gig. Tech, ya know. I get my work done and they let me piss around.” 

“All over the continent?”

“Yeah. More or less. I just need to log on once and a while. I have meetings on Fridays and Saturdays sometimes. My permanent address is in Austria right now.”

“Can you speak German?” Instead of anything else, Mello asks something unimportant. A doubting tone.

“Ja. Ich kann Deutsch sprechen.” With a smile. This is the bit. This is where Matt can handle himself. Joking in a few languages. Mello has to know four, conversationally, at least, by now. They’re probably all in one 10-point font line on his CV.  After studying Latin in sixth form and winning some national award for his proficiency. Matt vaguely remembers his pouring over a Mandarin textbook one August night, the both of them sweaty in bed, because Near was learning.

“Everyone in Vienna speaks English, anyway,” Mello says, offhand.

“Not all of my friends,” Matt tries to act cool. I know locals. I know grandmas who don’t know my English. People haven’t made fun of my accent in a few years. 

Benvenuto a Roma!

The wash closet was a spur of the moment thing. When you’re seventeen and horny over god knows what (your boyfriend, your boyfriend you wake up next to some days and pinch yourself and lock yourself in the bathroom over) the wash closet with the janitor kit and the plastic sink and the cobwebs is as good a place as any to get down on your knees. Matt felt Mello’s hands in his damp hair. Felt the short hairs on his upper leg against his cheek. Choking, a little, until Mello let him catch his breath.

The first time was by no means the best, but it holds its place as being the first.

None of Matt’s plans for the day, the week, the month involved hopping on a plane down to the South of Italy. Taranto, a fairly unimportant seaside city. Supposedly a tourist hidden gem. Mello hadn’t offered, but hadn’t said no when Matt said, with this teenage courage, “I’ve never been. Can I come?”

When catching up with words goes nowhere—there’s a lot they understand about each other, even now, like this. That Mello prefers being intuited and hates small talk with people he knows well. That Mello doesn’t want to talk about his past five years of traveling for business and learning Arabic and SAS and bullshitting PowerPoints. That he doesn’t need to ask to catch on that Matt’s totally still into anything. That Mello is waiting for Matt to do something. That Mello, despite practically looking at Matt down his nose, is still looking with the wanting, daring look in his eyes.

Matt hasn’t done well for himself. He’s done ok. He does full stack. He does day drinking and walking across a few national borders with dope haven’t caught up to him, yet. He’s good at his job. He needs to buy a new laptop. He can’t decide between two identical processors. He can get his buddy to build a machine for him, remove the stupid choices and get it done.

There’s a Mac on the desk in Mello’s five star hotel room. Mello makes him take a shower. They make out wordlessly on the sofa and Matt thinks he’s okay with this. He likes this. The hardness of Mello beneath him, and the familiarity. A new scar on his shoulder, tiny compared to the one on his face, but there. Doubtful he still likes the same things, but Matt can try.

A lot of their mates knew they were shagging, but didn’t really say anything about it. And nobody teased Matt about how in love he was, so he must have hid it well. He went to sleep every night desperate to be holding Mello, or for Mello to be holding him, and only got his wish some of the nights. As August dwindled, Matt remembers a long walk on the beach. Close to midnight. Some of the nightlife was still crawling, tipsy, to another bar, or home, but the shoreline was quiet. The lights still reflected off the water around the pier.

“Are we gonna...do you want to stay in touch?” Matt asks. Waiting for the kick. The no. The, “good dogs stay.”

“Maybe.”

It was practically a no.

Mello looped his arm around Matt’s waist and into his pocket.

“I don’t think this’ll work. After this summer.”

“I know.”

They manage to talk on the flight to Taranto.

“Where do you live?” Matt asks.

“Biel.”

“Not so far from Vienna.”

“Germany is in between.” Mello argues.

“Germany is not so large.” It is, Matt knows it is. Took the regional trains from Hamburg to Munich for all nine hours.

“You sound like an American.”

Matt laughs. “I’m not.”

“Have you been?”

“Of course. I worked in the Flatiron for a few months.” Mello says it as though he assumes Matt doesn’t know what the Flatiron building is.

“What’s that?” Matt humors him. A piss at acting the fool, again.

“A building.”

“Ah. I’ve been to Boston and Palo Alto.”

“That is where all you techie types assemble.”

Mello has the window seat. Matt’s supposed to be sitting four rows ahead, but it’s not a packed flight. It was expensive. Matt’s stock options have been performing well, the past year or so.

And again, Taranto isn’t built to last. Matt has no accommodations of his own when he finds himself by the sea with Mello again. He ends up on Mello’s couch until he’s invited to the bed. But instead of bumping uglies, they just sleep the first night. He’s being held at arm's length. He’s being kissed and then left in the hotel while Mello goes to meet his business associate on a yacht. Well, Matt does have work to do. He opens his laptop and stares at the blinking cursor. At Wednesday night’s error messages. Fuck.

On Sunday, Mello finds a church and Matt finds the sea.

On Monday, they sit down at a cafe, once again. Two grown up strangers.

“Do you ever think about it?”

“What?”

“Wammy’s.”

“No.”

Liar.

“How was LSE?”

Kiss. Not an answer. Matt imagines the answer is something like, “Fine. They didn’t like me. I was too smart, and they were too far up their own asses.” And then he gets distracted by Mello’s lips on his neck. A hand needling at his belt.

They end up on a fisherman’s boat. Mello talks himself into this, and Matt comes along. Matt can swim, but he’s afraid of the open ocean. No truce has been met. They fell asleep in the same bed the night before. They walked the streets of Taranto together after dinner. Matt paid. They talked and talked about a lot of nonsense. A lot of stuff that got at the meat of the time that had passed and revealed nothing at all. If you’re going to be difficult, I can be, too.

Matt doesn’t tell Mello about his trip to Belfast. That he found his uncle. And that he’s been invited to his niece’s wedding. That his mother died six years ago in hospital.

Matt doesn’t ask where Mello got the scar that takes up half of his face. Makes him hotter, in Matt’s subjective opinion. But he wears it less like a badge and more like a dare. I know you’re looking.

The coastline shrinks. The fisherman tells them about dolphins and the lines he’s putting down and the coastline. That is that town. This is the other town. Look at the Rizzos dolphins following the boat.

Mello starts speaking to him in Italian, and Matt rolls his eyes. He catches spare words, cognates from the Spanish and such he knows, but not enough. He considers rolling off the side of the boat and touching a baby dolphin. He thinks of how deep the Mediterranean must be, this close to the shore, still.

When Mello returns to him, eventually, his hair is wind swept. There’s salt spray on his neck.

“I just broke up with my fiance.” Mello says, suddenly.

“Your what.”

“I just broke up with my fiance.”

“Did she cheat on me?”

“No. He was too young.” He.

“How old was he?”

“Twenty six.” Mello says.

“You’re twenty seven.”

“He was too immature.”

“Why did you agree to marry him?” Matt asks the choppy waves.

“His parents have titles and a big house.”

“I never thought you’d be the kind...” to marry rich? I thought about it a lot when I was in York and you were in Oxfordshire. You’d find a girl whose parents parents went way back. Or a boy, and he’d have a family that was okay with it if you wore the right clothes.

“I didn't marry him.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Too immature?

“Is that why you’re here?”

“No.”

“Do you even live in Biel?”

“Biel, Bienne.”

“Bienna?”

Matt earns a smile, self effacing, unbidden, from Mello with this. Why not Zurich? Maybe he never stays at home.

They make it back to Milan in a week. They spent the rest of the days in Taranto fucking through early mornings. Being lazy creatures. Matt’s dragged this new Mello, scarred, pantsuits, fisherman-chatting, calf leather shoes Mello, down with him. This newly broken up Mello that seems to have kept the bite from when he was eighteen and baying for blood.

“Is this where I leave you?” Matt asks. It was fun. Nothing like Brighton. Taranto is more scenic. The medieval and classical castles and fortresses on the southern coast. Nothing like Naples or the tourist corridors.

“I had a reservation with my fiancé tonight.”

“Are you asking me to marry you? You haven’t asked me on a date since Cafe Aquila in Rome.”

“You’re buying yourself a suit. I don’t care where. We’re going out.”

“If you insist.”

Snort. Hiss.

And so it goes.

[thursdaydaughter]

By the sea / Choi yeonjun

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: angst, why no one is writing more angsty stuff about yawnzzn??, childhood friends to strangers

warnings: none?

word count: 760

a/n: english is not my first language

~~~

You and yeonjun have been best friends since you were kids.

Both of you grew up together in a small town by the sea and your parents worked at the same shop.

You’ve always dreamt of getting out from there and yeonjun, of course, dreamt about it too. You kept saying you were going to move to the city and live together when you got into college.

When you were 8, you used to play by the beach, splashing water everywhere and making sandcastles.

“Yeonjun, I really want to be like this forever. With you..” You were laying by his side, tired from playing all afternoon.

“Hey, yn.” Yeonjun said while stretching his arms behind his head. “You are the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

When you turned 12 years old, you started to look yeonjun with other eyes; he grew taller and his hair got a little bit longer, he was kinda cute.

But, the way he always chose you for every homework, for every team and for everything, made your heart skip a beat.

You never really noticed the mole next to his eye until he kissed your cheek on your 15th birthday. He gave you a beautiful pink dress and you made sure to use it everyday until it no longer fitted you.

“Maybe he’s gonna notice me now…”

You said to yourself while putting on your makeup and your best clothes.

You were 16 and you had only one dream (by that time): confess to him and be his girlfriend.

“Hey, yn! You made it.” Yeonjun greeted. “You look pretty, I want you to meet someone… I kinda like her, so please don’t say something embarrassing.”

And suddenly, at the age of 18 he turned into a man, the one who gave the graduation speech.

“And finally, I just wanna thank… my beautiful….” You closed your eyes, hoping that your name fell from his lips. “Ming!, She is the best thing that’s ever been mine.”

He also turned into a handsome man with beautiful dark hair and pretty puffy pink lips and let’s not forget his beautiful girlfriend, the one who had one dream in common with him: getting out of this town and live together while studying college.

Oh… that dream sounds pretty much like your dream.

“I guess… I’ll see you soon?” Yeonjun said. “I’ll come visit you. Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

“I’ll stay here and help our mothers with the shop. They are getting older and they can’t keep doing this.” You said while checking the inventory. “Do you need anything else?”

“I don’t understand… why are you mad at me?” Yeonjun asked, he was getting angry. “You are acting like a chid, yn.”

“You’re leaving and I’m staying.”

“You’ve always talk about getting out of here.” He sighed. “It’s not even my fault, you chose this. You could live with us if you want.”

“Live with you and her?” Why would he say that? Haven’t he noticed that you are deeply in love with him?

“She totally likes you! She knows you’re my best friend since ever and she doesn’t feel threatened by you. You’re like a bro to us.”

What the fuck?

“A fucking bro to you? I have been your best friend since we were kids. I was there for you every goddamn time and now I’m a fucking bro you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“And now I have to act like you didn’t share OUR dreams with someone else.” The tears started to roll down your cheeks. “It’s supposed to be me, the one who leaves with you, the one you shared your apartament, the one you love.”

Silence. But for you it was noisy.

“Yn, believe me, I love you… but not in that way.” Yeonjun grabbed his bag from the floor. “I’m sorry… I didn't mean to share our dreams with someone else. I don’t want us to be like this, we are best friends!”

“No, we’re not.” You cleaned your cheeks. “We stop being best friends since I turned 12, since I started to look at you in other ways.”

“Y/n…”

“Leave. Please, leave. Be happy with her in your new city, with your new friends, in your new school and your new fucking life.” Yeonjun was shocked at your words. “I hate you, Yeonjun… and I don’t want to see you again.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.”