#I made this song months ago but sometimes I remember it and I have to come back because its so me

[barkingangelbaby]

venting so much i ran out of tags lmao

[rebelscums]

Apricity (Qimir x Lover reader)

Ratings: Angst | Slight fluff | Mentions of nudity | He doesn’t realize what he has until it’s gone

Summary: Qimir chooses his padawan over you, going back on his promise and leaving you with one choice… To leave.

For the longest time, it has always been you and him. The two of you against the entire galaxy, searching for a place to belong. Long nights spent tangled up in sheets and days spent traveling the galaxy. It felt nice not to feel so lonely anymore, to belong to someone and have a purpose.

Until he wanted more.

“You want a pupil?” You sat up in bed, the cool air circling from the cave entrance caressing your skin.

He sat up as well, his hand circling around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, “I want to pass my knowledge onto someone else…” His thumb brushed against your side, “I want an acolyte.” He leaned in to press kisses on your neck.

“Then why not just get me pregnant?”

He grinned, breathing a content chuckle against your skin, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t mind it.” The thought of a child, a mix of both you and Qimir, running around excited you.

He pulled back to look you in the eyes, “I promise, once my work is done and I have an acolyte to carry out my will. You and I can finally live without constantly hiding and we can have all the children we could want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise my flower.”

That was two years ago before he found… Mae. You believed in his words, kept his identity a secret, and stood by faithfully as he spent all of his time training her.

He said that he didn’t want to risk your life, that was why your love would remain a secret. You could understand his reasoning and you complied as you always did.

Sometimes he would leave you on the unknown planet you both made your home…

You decided long ago to call the planet Apricty because no matter how cold it felt, your love kept it warm. But that warmth slowly began to fade with each passing month he spent away from you. It was always the same line.

“I thought that maybe we could take a tripe to Naboo?”

“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon.”

“Today is our anniversary. I wanted to make something special for us for dinner. When will you be home?”

“I can’t my flower, but I promise soon we will celebrate.”

“Can I come with you this time? I feel…” alone…

“I can’t take you with me my flower, but I promise soon.”

You spent most of your time walking along the beach, collecting shells and taking in the scenery of the waves crashing against the rocks. Today was no different as you sat on the edge of the beach, dipping your toes into the freezing water.

You were bored and lonely and you just, “I miss him.” You admitted quietly to no one. You’ve found yourself talking to the force lately. You weren’t like Qimir, you had no strong connection and you couldn’t wield the force, but you felt close to it as the force reminded you of Qi.

“I miss waking up to him humming as he cooked breakfast… I miss his jokes and that lopsided grin of his… I miss cooking dinner for him and running my hands through his hair… I miss our adventures… I… I miss…” You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt tear drops hit your hands, “I miss him.” You sobbed.

You were concerned and you were scared for him that his ambitions would take him to where you couldn’t follow.

You were cutting potatoes to put in a stew, humming a song that Qimir used to sing to you. It gave you some sense of humanity staying here alone for the past couple of months. Your tears had long since dried from earlier today and your only plan was to eat dinner and go to bed.

“Your voice is just as beautiful as I remember my flower.” You heard him speak behind you and you froze wondering if you were imagining him again.

“Qi…” You whispered his name as you turned to find him standing there, a small smile on his face.

Your eyes tear up as you stood and rushed towards him. He engulfed you in his arms and you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“It’s been so long.” You cried into his shirt.

“I know, I’m sorry my flower.” He whispered into your hair as he caressed your body.

You pulled back to look him over, “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” You notice the tired look on his face, “What happened?”

“Jedi.” He muttered as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I took care of them.”

You breathed in his scent as closed your eyes… You were happy that he was back and you once again felt safe in his arms… That is until you heard a noise emanating from your room.

“What was that?” You wondered as you pulled away from him.

“My flower, there’s something I need to tell you about.” He said.

There was nothing in his expression that would allow anyone to know what he was thinking… But you weren’t just anyone.

“What is it?” A frown crossed your lips as you could see the guilt in his eyes.

“I brought Osha here.” He muttered knowing he could not lie to you.

“Osha?” Your brows furrowed, “Your acolyte’s sister? Why?”

“Mae betrayed me. I believe Osha is the acolyte I need.”

You pushed him away, your joy of him returning morphing into frustration, “You brought her here?”

“I had no other choice.” He pressed.

“You always have a choice.” You turned away from him. It was ironic how now you wanted space from him.

He took a step towards you wrapping his arms around your waist, “She was hurt, please. I wouldn’t have brought her here if I didn’t have a choice.”

You sighed and closed your eyes, “Alright.” You whispered quietly.

He turned you around and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Thank you my flower. You have always supported me and I love you for that.”

“Of course.” You brushed your nose against his, “I love you.”

You spent your evening tending to the girl’s wound, something you never dreamed of doing, but here you are. You were happy though that at least Qimir was back and hopefully now you can go with him places.

Or so you thought.

You both stood outside of the cave as he told you, “For my plan to work, you can’t tell her that we are together.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned him, “What does our love have anything to do with her as your new acolyte?”

“She needs to see that to truly be powerful she cannot have any attachment to her old life.” He explained, “Trust me on this, please.” He asked once again.

“Who…” You frowned softly, a sad look in your gaze, “Who would you have me be?”

“You’ll be my smuggler, just for a little while.” He placed his hands on your arms, “I swear that it won’t be for long. Just until she accepts who she is.”

“Okay…” You whispered unsure.

Why do you always say yes to him? Why can’t you just tell him that this hurts you more than slicing your own skin? Then being left alone. It felt as if he didn’t want to belong to you anymore…

“Who are you?” Osha asked behind you from where you were making lunch.

“No one important.” You spoke softly, “How is your wound?”

“It’s… Better… Thank you.” She spoke unsure.

“I did what I could with what I had.” You motioned to a bag, “There are some clothes and things for you in there. They are mine, but I’m sure they’ll fit.”

I could hear her make her way over to the bag and open it to inspect the items, “Why are you helping me?” She wondered.

“Because he asked.” You stated as you added more vegetables to the curry, “And because I’m not a bad person.”

You heard her pick up the bag and carry it to the back room to change.

“Qi is outside.” You told her, “I’ll come fetch you both for lunch when it’s ready.”

You hoped that you didn’t seem too mean or awkward as you brushed off your pants. At least the curry turned out good. You thought as you slipped on your shoes and one of Qimir’s coat that you stole. His scent was still there but faded from how many times you’ve worn it while he was away.

“You are not going to give that back are you?” He chuckled.

“You are leaving me for months. The least you can do is leave me this. I may forget you after all.” You teased though you were silently hurting, you didn’t let him know.

He pulled you in for a deep kiss, “I won’t be gone long. Once I find an acolyte everything will be perfect.”

But everything was perfect… At least to you.

You hummed softly as you left the cave, some seeds in your pocket to feed the cute little creatures that live alongside you. The walk felt nice as you finally had somewhere to go to without mindlessly wandering around until your feet felt numb. You wondered if Qi would like to go see the small garden you had been meticulously been cultivating since he left. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours.

Besides you always told him you wanted a garden and now you have one that you made all on your own.

“A garden hm?” He smiled softly down at you.

“Yes! I would like a big one with the most beautiful and exotic fruits, vegetables, and flowers that we have ever seen!” You explained happily to him as he spun you around in your little home, “Then I can make us the most delicious meals.”

“I see, I guess I will have to get started on building you one then.” He smiled.

He never did build you that garden; but it made you feel proud that you built one yourself. It wasn’t grand and it didn’t have the most beautiful fruits, vegetables, or flowers in the galaxy, but it was enough. It made you content in your lonely state. You continued on your path, knowing exactly where he would be. It was your favorite spot after all, a little cove that was perfect for taking a swim or just relaxing. You remember all of the fond memories the two of you had there when the only thought in mind was your shared future. You thought it was enough… You hoped it was.

You could hear two voices and you sighed silently knowing you would have to put up an act. You had secretly hoped that Osha would try to escape or get lost and you could spend some much needed time with Qimir, but you suppose that the force was not on your side this time.

“If you’re not going to join me then I would like to get dressed.” You heard Qimir say and the odd choice of words made a sick feeling settle in the pit of your stomach.

You turned around the corner of a giant boulder when before you made you step back in shock. There your lover was standing bare in front of a girl who was only supposed to be his padawan.

What was this…?

You didn’t understand as you watched him get dressed. He didn’t try to hide himself or make her turn away. He didn’t…

You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself, silently leaving the two to their private conversation. There were many emotions and thoughts consuming your mind as you trekked back to your little home.

How long has that been going on? Was he that way with Mae as well? Was I just a placeholder until he found someone better? Why? Why? Why?

Your sadness grew into anger as the realization settled in you like a seed of doubt. He… Didn’t love me anymore. I wonder if he ever did? You thought.

You waited in your home, a place that you have worked hard to make it a warm and welcoming place for the both of you. You could hear them talking as they approached, could see them as Qimir twisted his way inside her mind as he did yours all those years ago. Watched as he grabbed her arm so gently that you wanted to cry. You wanted to look away as she pinned him to the cave entrance and he let her, the lightsaber so close to his neck you wondered if she would actually do it… You wondered if you wanted her to.

He set his claim over her with soothing words and a gentle touch and you knew… He didn’t want you. He didn’t even want a padawan.

He wanted an equal.

You couldn’t give him that, not with your small connection to the force. You weren’t like him. You never would be.

Your heart broke in that moment and nothing saved you from the sorrow that consumed you. All you wanted was a family… He was your family. He was everything to you and you… You weren’t as nearly important to him.

“At least three.” You lied in bed, curled up in his arms.

“Four kids?” He chuckled as he drew circles across your skin, “Why not make it four? Make it even.”

“Four?” You hummed in thought, “Do you think you can handle that many kids?”

“I handle you just fine, how hard can it be?” He teased.

You mockingly gasped in shock before rolling over on top of him, “You’ll see just how hard I am to handle.”

“Oh I’m counting on it.” He grinned, placing his hands on your hips.

You leaned down to press your forehead against his, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone Qi.”

“I’ll never let you go.” He stated sincerely, “Nothing will ever keep me from you, my flower.”

“I’ll keep you to that.” You kissed him.

It seemed that shattered piece of the force reminded him that you were there. He could feel that string of yours begin to fray and when his eyes met yours he knew that there was no way to bring you back.

It was early the next morning and you watched the tide begin to recede as you waited to board your ship, one that was smaller than Qimir’s, but still fast.

“Flower.”

“Please, spare me indignity.” You whispered.

“I can explain.”

You could see the hurt hidden behind his soft gaze, a pleading act that you knew too well. It was a look that he only gave when he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

You continued to look at him with tears in your eyes, “I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I’m not connected to the force like you, but I know you do the very core of my being and I know… I know Qimir.”

“That’s not—” He stepped towards you, but you held a hand up to stop him.

“I want to be loved only by you and… You swore that it would just be the two of us. You used to say you couldn’t bear to be without me… You used to run to see me… I want to be close to you and you still keep me at arms length. You think I’m naive, but I see more than what you want me to see.” You took a breath as you tried to keep your composer without breaking down.

You searched his eyes for the love he once held for you and you wanted to cry because you couldn’t find it anymore.

“You have my heart Qimir, you always have. My love for you is as warm as the sun, but I cannot continue to shine upon something that prefers the darkness.” You confessed, your heart barely keeping it together. You wanted to run back in his arms and forget everything that happened, but that would only leave you right where you are now… Alone.

“What are you saying?” His voice cracked and he felt a gnawing feeling crawl up his chest and towards his heart.

“I can no longer follow you on the path that you are taking, not when your heart no longer belongs to me so please… Give me some decency and let me leave you.” You pleaded not knowing how much your heart could take.

“I can’t.” He shook his head and his voice became desperate, “Please don’t leave me. I can’t bear to loose you. Not you.”

“Then tell her to go.” You looked in the direction of where Mae was watching at the entrance of your home… Your life… Your safe space.

“I…” He looked torn as he tried to decide and that hurt you all the more… He had to think about choosing you and… “I can’t.” He finally responded.

He couldn’t even choose you.

You nodded to yourself at his choice, silently confirming your decision to leave. It was best for you no matter how much pain you were currently in.

“No one will ever be able to truly see you the way I do… You were my apricity.” You turned and began to walk to your ship, “Goodbye Qimir.”

Osha took his place by his side and he suddenly felt a feeling of emptiness, no longer did he feel a purpose nor did he wish for anything except for his beloved flower.

“You won’t kill her?” Osha asked as she watched as your ship took off.

“Never.” He responded quietly.

[svndaysaweek]

Wanna Make You Mine — {Feat. Minji}

5k words

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while! I felt like I should write and post something, and here it is. This was not written in my best condition, but it’s Minji😌. Honored to have had @chunksworld as a beta-reader and an editor! If you find some amazingly well-written sentences most likely it’s from him haha☺️ Enjoy!

******

It was a few days ago when rain poured heavily, unexpectedly leading to one of the hottest encounters you have ever experienced in your life. And the more you reminisce, the bigger your smile grows, bittersweetly. If someone told you it was a dream, you’d buy that. A fever dream, albeit a short one. But it hasan everlasting lingering image carved in your heart. It was fire-hot, it was ice-cold. Like bubble gum you savor it when it tastes sweet, but it diminishes when the sweet is gone.

The day you forgot your umbrella is a day you will never, ever forget. It was a surprise, a super hot one to you. And like a hit-and-run, it stuns you, and then leaves, barely leaving any marks.

******

You don’t precisely remember since when, but there’s something about her that made her stand out to you. Multiple times you caught her looking your way then quickly avoiding your eyes–it happened enough for you to sense how unusual it is. 

It’s not because she stands out; she doesn’t. She is considered by many as a model student and everyone likes her. Acing quizzes, straight A’s and with a courteous manner. She was given every admirable virtue in her heart, and radiates it like it’s her body odor. A waking proof that humans can be perfect. But she’s not the one to boast about it, keeping down people’s envy in the level of admiration and friendliness. 

For you, Kim Minji is just another student who happens to be in the same school as you. Sometimes you get a nod as a sign of greeting from her and sometimes she just passes by. Still, everytime you run into her, her tranquil smile tells you how she became the model student that she is. Not a single person in this school would succeed in disliking her. You see how everyone says hi to her just to hear it back. And with no exception, she does. To you, too, of course. Sometimes she says “hi” first, and sometimes you do. 

A respectable student. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more.

******

Today it is raining. At this point, it’s plausible that God knows you didn’t bring your umbrella for the third time this month. Third time you brought an extra tumbler, third time you left your umbrella at home, and the third time it rained. Youthink of repenting but deep in your mind you know God owes you a big apology, not the other way around.

The downpour is heavy so you decide to wait in school knowing that it will die down in a few minutes, well that's what you hope because you don't want to risk getting any of your stuff wet.

You are and have always been a quiet kid in school—an introvert. Just the right amount of friends, not really prone to being bullied, a surprisingly average amount of female interactions and above-average grades. Just one of those boys who loves listening to music, watching movies and a bunch of other things.

Can’t spend a rainy day without music on your headphones, can you? Plus, it’s just you in this big hallway so you wear it and turn the jazzy classics on while you stroll lazily along the windows. You blindly step to the comforting rhythm of the song watching the droplets kiss the window. Guess you won't blame God for the rain this time. 

You look at the dark gray concrete walls, white window frames, bright gray limestone floor, and the wooden doors of the classrooms you walk by. With the music flowing through your ears and rain crashing on the windows right in front of you, even the gloomy colors of the school building looks rather comforting.

So you walk, and walk, and walk until you’re back in front of your classroom. The rain has become a lot more silent than when it started and it’ll get dark soon. You want to spend your Friday evenings at home and not in school.

The rain will have stopped by the sunset and theair would beclean then. You wouldn’t want to miss the glow of the setting sun with such a crystal clear sky. You imagine the view it’d give you, which songs would be perfect to listen to and you just can’t hold a smile back. 

“Oh! Oh… hey…” When you open the door, Minji is frightened by you. She looks disheveled from head to toe. Her hair is frazzled, her face ruddy, her breath heavy. But what’s more desecrating is that her shirt is open, her unblemished midriff has a layer of sweat-like liquid coating it, taint on her gray bra. All of it is sent to your brain to process, which causes it to cease functioning for a second.

“D-don’t mind me.” Then she rushes to what you assume to be the restroom Kim Minji, who has never even opened a button of her shirt in school before and yet you just saw her bare belly. You’re blushing, trying not to think about it but you fail miserably. It feels dirty to be like this—she isn’t one of those provocative types of girls to you… or she wasn’t.

But you can’t explain why she’s so frantic with her skin so exposed. Why was she so out of breath and sweaty? Why was she so surprised to see you and then proceeded to rush outside the classroom?

Has she been sacred or sanctimonious? Has she been exemplary or errant?

You know it’s a rash judgment.

You step inside the classroom then walk over to your seat where you find an oddly-placed puddle on the desk. Not as big as a spilled bottle of water, not as small as the drool you usually make when you doze off with your face buried in your arms during class.

You examine it by dipping your finger on it.

Definitely not water.

Then what?

“What's this?” You find a blue switch and pick it up. 

“Hey,” Flabbergasted, you turn around so quickly that it slips out of your grip. It's Minji who's standing at the door frame, leaning slightly on the wall. 

Her shirt is still open, and so are the stains on her bra and her messy hair. It seems like she didn't tidy herself up in the bathroom. 

“Did you spill something on my desk, Minji?” For the moment you think that's what happened. Every clue provided to you is telling you just one thing, and you're pretty sure you got it right. Maybe she'll apologize, and you're going to say it's nothing and help her clean it up. She'll then thank you and say you're such a nice person.

Well, it sure is a possible series of normal things to happen. 

Unless Kim Minji brings a crazy plot twist for the two of you only.

“No, I didn't.” And step by step she approaches you. The way she walks draws your eyes to her slick legs and the uniform skirt she's wearing: dark gray as always. But it hangs way higher than usual, so high and short that you almost catch a glimpse of her underwear.

You're just standing there still, wondering why she’s acting unprecedentedly strange. You don’t even recognize that she’s already just in front of you. You’re trying your best not to look at her breasts even when she slowly squats down to the floor.

“You dropped this.” You realize when Minji hands it to you that it is a switch. That she wants it in your hand and that she wants to see you flick your finger on it and turn it on.

“Minji, is this…?” There is only a shy grin on her face. Swear to god, you didn’t even imagine in your dreams that such a thing would happen to you. You’re yet to escape the stage of denial, to be honest. Where was the heads-up to begin with?

“Wanna try turning it on?” Her tone is so casual that you didn’t get it the first time. You’re just totally dumbfounded. Minji sees it, knows it and understands it.

“Go on, do it.” Her eyes are on your fingers. Her teeth dig into her bottomlip. Her eyelids flutter. Your thumb is now on the switch, ready to flick it on. Your thumb presses on it, just enough for the knuckle to whiten up, but not really turn it on.

Her arms hug your neck, and the moment she does, you flick the switch up. You didn’t mean to, but when she hugged you your thumb automatically moved so it was turned on with a clicking sound. An embarrassed gasp leaves your mouth.

But when she buries her face in the crook of your neck and moans all the gibberish improvised excuses building in your head washes away.

At the risk of sounding grandiose, it’s rather the situation she lures you in that is overloading you mentally. It hasn't even been 5 minutes since you ran into her.

“Y-you know…” At this point you can’t even imagine what’s going to unfold. If she confesses that she is in fact an alien from Saturn you’ll sense no absurdity. You’ll just breathe it in.

You feel her body shaking by how her weight changes every second. And you’re standing there like a dumb statue, not knowing where to put your hands, even when she’s almost climaxing mere inches away and your lust is getting completely heightened by it.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long…”

No one couldn’t have ever anticipated that. For a moment you forgot to breathe; Minji has taken it away. And when she bites into your shoulder you gasp, feeling the tingling sensation rushing down your spine.

“I’ve liked you eversince the first time I saw you by the way.” She’s struggling to make her words distinguishable in between moans and hisses, while you’re struggling to come up with a proper reaction to what you’re currently experiencing.

This whole situation you find yourself in is so foul and so hot given that she’s one of the most admirable students of your school. She was supposed to be out of your league and yet somehow the timid and quiet boy is who she wanted all along.

“You’re going to make me cum…!” Hearing it coming through her lips makes your head spin, makes your cock throb painfully inside your pants. You don’t even expect yourself to think straight, nor want to think straight.

During the day she’s a model student, then after school she becomes a kinky pervert. It’s the least possible thing in your life to happen and yet here you are.

But when she cums and squirts on your pants, you’re proven very wrong. 

“I… I like you.” Out of breath she whispers, still cumming and you support her by her bare waist. You switch off the toy and just let her go through the bliss of post orgasm.

As she comes down her arms let go of you, still panting. “Do you like me too?” That’s not even a question, as her eyes are on your shirt and her hands are already halfway down unbuttoning it. 

“Minji…” You take her already open shirt off of her arms before fondling her breasts over her bra. Your eyes are fixed at the pair in your hands while you can feel hers glaring into your eyes.

“Mhm. Go on. Take as much as you like.” Her hands seductively unbutton your shirt, one by one, from the top down. She’s not in a hurry but in a matter of seconds your top vanishes. Then she puts her lips dangerously close to yours, hovering and tickling your lips with subtle skims. 

“But don’t forget to let me do the same, okay?” She sounds so full of confidence but her face is as red as yours. The eyelock doubles and triples the heat between you two and when the distance is completely eliminated by a messy lip lock, your heart begins to beat out of your chest.

Her tongue is aggressive inside around yours. Her hand is already a hand of a luster, already sneaking down on your pants sending shivers up to the crown of your head so easily. You grab and unhook your belt, and Minji purrs delightfully when she sees your erection spring out ontoher belly.

“This is a yes, right?” Minji pushes you lightly, just enough for you to know that she wants you on the desk. Her tummy brushes against your erection as she climbs up to face you again after swiftly removing her bra. You’re met with her mouthwatering pair of breasts pressed against your bare chest. 

“I don’t understand why…” Her fingers trace down your jawline to your lips. The placidity oozing out from her words is making you fret over—inside, you want her to take advantage of this one-way situation as much as she can. Your hands find her sweaty tits and fondle them softly, and she moans with a dreamy smile.

“But you kinda make me feel things. Unexplainable, but certainly that’s more than just love.” It's an overwhelming lust you obviously planted in her. You can see how ripe it is, and now you’re reaping it. It’s sweet, the flesh, the hue is so mature and obscene. 

“Say something, hmm?” When you part your lips to say ‘I like you too’, however, her tongue ties a knot on yours. You feel the pace suddenly upshift when she strokes your cock slowly and when you involuntarily moan and flinch. Your breaths overload your lungs while your mouth has totally fallen by what the intertwined tongues are doing inside.

“Minji… I-I like you too.” You didn’t mean to just whisper it. However it somehow did work as the cue to make her start pleasuring you with her hand. 

The smirk on her face is almost a burden to your already weary mind, topped with the anticipating lip bite. And those glaring, sly eyes which eventually force yours to squeeze shut. The sensation is too much for you to take in as it is, so your nails dig into your palms hard and your head tilts backwards. 

You don’t look comfortable at all—you aren’t, with all the unreal touches and heated breaths being poured on your skin. But that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying this, of course. Her hand is pumping your cock at a constant rhythm, her groaning voice matches yours as if it’s as tantalizing to her as well.

“I’m glad you said that.” As if her confession was to be ignored by you. It was more of a seduction than a platonic confession to think about. Not that you can properly think while you’re getting mentally wrung by her. 

“You would’ve never known…” Minji slows down her hand around your throbbing cock. You open your eyes to be faced with her orbs mere inches away. 

Lust doesn’t seem to have dispersed from the jetty pair of pupils. “...how many times you relieved my stress from all the studying.” She continues her lewd confession of her sexual fantasies about you which could’ve been kept a secret… But what more to hide when you two are touching each other’s sex and mixing body fluids? 

When your fingers brush against her inner thighs, she hisses and tightens the grip on your cock. Nearing her core, you can feel the moist lust seeping out, leaking and running. 

“Do you think about me often too? Who am I to you?” You hesitate. But she doesn’t want any lies. Nor do you. 

“You’re just a… the model student of the school. A pretty one. A pretty, smart girl that I run into often.” You amazingly finish the sentence while riding off to the very edge of your patience under her bewitching strokes.

Just enough to feel incredibly heady but still seconds away from exploding on her hand. Your fingers aren’t idle either, as two of those smoothly enter her damp entrance. The tips of your fingers reach her toy inside and you pull it out slowly.

You see her belly flutter from the sensation of it. “Put your fingers in deeper,” She pleads as grinding herself on your fingers, situating you two in a mutual masturbation.

“I want to cum with you.” Her words trigger so many things inside you. Deeper and darker things, something the superficial you don’t possess. Something every guy would hide and keep deep under the surface and wait for the very chance to bring up.

Your fingers move, inside and out while hers move up and down. Both relentlessly, hungrily almost. The desire to see each other drown in bliss is paralleling the desire to feel it for oneself. You’re almost there, hoping that she is, too.

“Minji, I-I am… I can’t-“ You’re miserably stuttering, tongue twisted by how unblemished the sensation is from all sides—her soft hands working ever so hard and hot on the head of your cock, her lewd moans tickling your eardrums. Her face, that face making a look that just screams sex.

In no time you explode first, spurt after spurt in her hands as she still keeps on pumping it with pace. Your groan never dies down until you’re completely out of breath and strength.

Then Minji restarts grinding on your fingers that she stopped when you blasted the turbid pleasure on her fingers. You look up from her cum-coated fingers to her eyes, and it’s a head-spinning hypnosis that beams into your eyes from hers.

Dense, intense, a bit lethargic in a way and flooding with lust—seeing her crush cum in her very own hand, must’ve sent her into another galaxy at least, possibly another dimension. That is what sex can do even to a woman of high status.

“That was so hot. Now will you help me with this?” You already are when you’re snapped back from drifting off in the ocean of bliss. 

“I will.” You literally sigh words out as you still are trying to regain your breaths. You lay her down on the desks and crawl up to level with her face, fingers still making the dirty wet sound.

Minji’s face is a mess; it’s red, it’s sweaty, in need, desperate. Her eyes are fixed on your lips, her mouth agape, breathing into your face, it’s hot, her hands touching and squeezing her own breasts, her throat vibrates into your teeth and tongue when you kiss and bite it. And it happens to splash you all at once like a tsunami, but without the premonitory phenomena.

Kiss her neck, jawline and back to her lips. Her tongue welcomes yours, and after a few seconds she screams into your throat airily with her hands holding onto your shoulders.

“I’m close, I’m close, I’m-Oh!”

Hearing her you circle her clitoris with your thumb and it sends her away to bliss. To a heavenly abyss, where she doesn’t want to be bailed out. She’s squirting too, which makes it even hotter aside from her orgasming on your fingers. The watery sound makes you want to push into her even deeper.

You’re hard as rock again in no time after seeing the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, the least touchable girl in your school cum under your body on your own fingers. In school, in your classroom, on the table.

“Oh my god, is that your bag?” It’s a black backpack that her secretion is dripping onto. Minji is more entertained than concerned to your eyes however, and so are you. You wouldn’t mind if your iPad is broken from all the water for now.

“No, I don’t care. Mine is over there I guess.” You’re not sure, but not that you ever want to be. Because your eyes lock before hers darting at your cock on her above her belly. Then she looks into you again. And that’s it.

“Do you want to-“

“Yes.” It doesn’t even need any brainpower to say yes. So you take your agonizingly hard cock to her entrance. First you rub it against her pussy slowly, and it makes her let out a small gasp.

Her hands are on your arms, tightly gripping. Her eyes, they’re fixed at yours, her beauty beaming at you, and it flutters when your tip enters her hot cavern. Her fingers dig a little deeper into your arms, her teeth into her lip, as you enter her bit by bit.

It’s a whole new sensation to be wrapped around the wet walls. And considering that this is your first time, it’s not odd to be totally enraptured and indulge deep in straight away.

“Mmm…!” Your eyes roll back when you push in until you can’t. The world around you narrows down to only you two, hot breaths, sweaty skin and a mutual high that you never want to be detached from.

“G-go on, I’ll make you feel good.” As if you need any more motivation to dive in.

Minji’s coquettish smile is the last thing you see before you spontaneously shut your eyes and groan as you go deeper and deeper. You’re barely breathing, barely thinking, barely sensing anything.

“F-fuck me…”

Her shaking voice cooing those words is a complete switch-off to your reason. She said it shyly, with a burning face and big eyes looking up at you—it must be her first time to do this—and single-handedly sending shivers up your spine.

“Ah… Mmm yes!” You begin to move, and even to the slightest moves she reacts so sensitively. Her walls are wringing around your cock, pulsing and matching her intermittent moans as you gradually, tantalizingly raise the pace.

It’s as if time itself ceased running. Just you and Minji, feeling every part of each other, moaning against each other’s skin, a locomotive with a broken brake. Broken brake, but with a fully functioning accelerator.

As you up the pace her hands find your shoulders for support as yours roam around her torso. Her sharp shoulders, to her perky tits, brushing your thumb on her stomach randomly, overloading her with your touches. 

You lack subtlety and it’s even visible to yourself. Not knowing where to put your hands, not knowing what to say, only thrusting in and out and getting so worked up by hearing her moans and her face flooding with sex.

Eyes barely holding on, moans escaping her agape mouth along with her hot breaths, blushed cheeks. Her hands find the back of your head and pull you into a kiss, and it gives you the feeling of being possessed.

Like you’ve become hers.

Like you’re fucking her pussy and now kissing her with intertwined tongues for her, not for yourself. Which somehow, to your surprise, aggravates the lust deep inside you. A hidden need for the dynamics, even unseen to you.

Seems there will be plenty of time for you two to explore it further.

You go even faster in return for the kindling kiss she dragged you into. Her grip tightens, traps you in her arms—not that you ever want to escape—suffocating you with the sloppy lip lock.

And it throws a barrel of oil to your already-flaming fire. Your breath is completely taken by Minji, without any chance to get out, your will is rather on the side of dying with Kim Minji absorbing the last breath you have.

Soon her walls begin to pulsate around your cock, her screams that reverberate in your skull are now about to tip you over into unconsciousness.

“So good… I’m about to c-cum.” Her voice shakes. Your thrusts keep the pace, at a steady rhythm you’re pounding into her leaking pussy. The tightness goes up like crazy, her thighs lock your hips in and it makes you, forces you to discover her inside even deeper.

With every thrust Minji voices out how well your cock is stirring her inside. And the elevating tension in her moans lets you know how close she is to-

“Cumming…! Fuck!”

A trance. It is a frenzy, an ecstatic upheaval that overwhelms your patience, that demolishes the dam and lets whatever behind the wall flood in.

When her fingers dig painfully deep into your head, when her teeth leave an intaglio of her love, when her legs lock you in, for you to join her with the heady pleasure…

A streak of benumbing orgasm shatters your nerves as you paint her stomach and her heaving chest. It seems to never end, spurt after spurt until the repose is here. You can only stare at her—her still high face, cum-coated breasts and tummy heaving up and down.

You both are taking in the messed up view of each other, eyes locked but no words or signals delivered. You just stare into her eyes hoping that she makes a move on you first. To take you where she wants, perhaps. Another round could be awesome, but either way you’ll be so satisfied.

Together. With Minji.

“Let me bring something to clean-”

“No.”

Her hands snatch yours. Not strongly, but just soft enough to let you know what she means.

“Stay here for more… With me.”

******

“Hey. So… Can I ask you exactly when?”

Dark purple sky, humid breeze of midsummer. Clouds that showered the earth with their own bodies are now completely gone, and you and Minji are walking down the street towards the sunset.

“It was when you picked up my notebooks I dropped. You were putting on your headphones. Hair was just long enough to look good, and on top of everything… What I fell for was the smile on your face. I don’t remember the date it happened, but it was special. So special.”

Her fingers then sneak under your palm, in between your fingers and lock with yours together. It’s warm and soft. A romantic placidity under one of the most beautiful sunsets you’ve ever seen.

Her thumb lightly brushes on the back of your hand as you keep walking down the serene road. “But I don’t think you’ve wanted to do this since then, right? Not complaining, but it was quite an unexpected way of confession. Especially from you.”

Minji giggles with her crescent eyes looking down at the ground. “It’s been only weeks… I got so stressed out from studying and one day… I tried touching myself then I suddenly thought of you. Since that day, you know, it’s been like that.” 

But there’s no shyness anymore. It’s not a secret anymore, at least between you and her. Nothing is. Nothing will be.

It’s a hot thing to think about. A girl touching herself thinking about you. And that girl being Minji is what surpasses your imagination. She even got caught pleasuring herself in your classroom today-

Or even that was part of the plan. You think of asking her about it, but at the same time, you don’t want to make any gaffe come out of your mouth. Right now is where the tinge of romance should fade in, not that.

“You can, you know, call me honey… If you… want…” Minji’s grip on your hand gets tighter as her shy laughters follow. It immediately makes your face burn. You look at her and find that it’s doing the same to her too.

“Okay, Minji-I mean, honey.” You feel your face drumming to the beat of your heart. But it doesn’t hide the happy smile on your face.

A girlfriend.

And a boyfriend.

It’s mutual from now on. The first love in your life starts.

“It’s my home already.” She stops in front of a white two-story house and turns to you.

“Alright, goodbye, honey.” You let her hand go but it doesn’t leave yours. Instead, a zesty grin blooms on her face and she hums an airy chuckle.

“Not before this.”

Her lips find yours. They don’t open, but it’s a kiss filled with heartiness, a long peck, with an artificial smacking sound made by her.

“See you tomorrow honey!”

******

It is raining just like yesterday; you forgot your umbrella just like yesterday too. And you decide to stay at school until it stops.

As if you’re seeing a deja vu of yesterday.

Only if you could see a deja vu of yesterday.

Minji didn’t run into you today. She didn’t come to your class to say hi. She didn’t come to her class. 

She didn’t come to school today.

The day passed uneventfully just like yesterday. Class after class, lunch breaks and “see you tomorrow”s from classmates. But painfully, the only one who said it yesterday with a kiss wasn’t here to keep her words.

And the day ended just like that. No sign of Minji.

“You heard that?” Just before you put on your headphones, something penetrates your ears.

“Minji moved to New York!”

What?

You almost shouted but managed to deal with that.

First, it’s denial that hits you.

“What do you mean? I saw her just yesterday!” The other guy looks as confused as you are.

Second, the word ‘why’ comes up in your head. 

“I don’t know, man. Everything I heard was the teachers talking that there was a sudden incident that left no choice for her family but to move.”

Third, denial again.

You wanted to stand up and ask them, but what you are going to get is a weird look and a “Why do you even care?”

Didn’t she tell me ‘see you tomorrow’?

It’s all complicated for now.

Maybe you yourself are to blame for not asking your girlfriend’s number.

But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

It was your first love, starting hot yet pure.

Now it’s as if all was a reverie.

The air you breathe hasn’t changed, the classes you attend were the same, it rained like yesterday, and your umbrella stayed at home again.

But there was no Minji, although you still hear her merrily say-

‘See you tomorrow, honey!’

******

[mcondance]

angel of small death. billy loomis

summary. billy’s finally found a middle ground between his needs, and your reservations. right?

contains. MDNI 18+, dubcon, fingering, unprotected sex (yay!), “just the tip” turns into full-on sex, billy’s being….. billy, creampie (yay! x2), he gets off on your pain (yay! x3), i say “believer” and “gospel” so if borderline blasphemy isn’t your thing then sayonara, title is from the hozier song “angel of small death and the codeine scene” but it is not required listening for this piece (though, if you want to listen, you can)

word count. 2k

— a word from your author: this started out as me just talking about billy telling you “just the tip” as a bridge into fully fucking you. but then it became me going into detail. but it was fun to write, as i enjoy writing dubcon. billy loomis, i’m ready to be taken advantage of <3

☆ ☆

“just the tip, okay?”

you’ve been holding back with him for a while, only really having sex with him of your own volition once or twice, and leaving him to beg the rest of the time.

he won’t tell you, but he likes when you make him beg to fuck you. when you make him lie and cheat, when he has to distract you from his hands pulling your bottoms off and by the time he’s lining up, you’re so worked up he has no choice but to fuck you. he likes having to play his way into your pants, or shorts, or skirt, when “yes” isn’t flowing readily from your lips like it sometimes is.

and, this time, he’s found a compromise.

“just the tip, okay? just a little, so it’ll still feel good for me and you.” me and you, he says, even subconsciously his pleasure comes first. and you. obviously, he knows you like being full of him. you like knowing what he feels like inside you, penetrating and owning the most intimate parts of you. he knows that, even if you try to contain yourself, you think about being under him or on top of him everyday.

“okay,” you nod, eagerly lying back on your pillows and spreading your legs for him. elation is written all over his face as he walks on his knees between your legs, the same smile that made you fall for him months ago spread across his pretty features.

leaning over you and caging you in between his lean arms, he hovers for just a second. leaning up, you finish the kiss, pulling him down with shy hands twisted in the collar of his shirt. he kisses you deep, the kind of kisses that make your brain fuzzy and have your body getting ready to let him in. he lingers on your lips, taking his time and fucking your mind the way only he can.

it’s a surprise you even agreed to the compromise, with the way your mind starts to call back how it feels to have him all the way inside of you.

he parts from your lips, placing a kiss on your jaw, and then the hot skin of your neck. there, he lingers again, remembering the sweet spot he found the last time he got you like this.

when he finds it, your hips buck against him, a little whine leaking from your throat.

“billy,” you murmur.

“yeah?” he gives back, kissing your skin again. you breathe out in response. it’s damning, and so pretty, and it has something between your legs pounding like your heart in your heaving chest. everything he says, everything he does, every look, every touch, is it for you. billy loomis has captivated and trapped you, and the danger you’re in only sets you alight.

moving farther down, he studies your face with just a quick glance, and, despite wanting to, he doesn’t push you on getting your shirt off. he plans for the future, the outcome he knows he’ll get, and decides he’ll like it better if you have your top on.

with his mind made up, he moves back to your face, positioning himself above you. he kisses you again, and that fire inside you burns anew.

one of his hands moves downward as his lips continue moving against yours, kissing you with such force that your heads move up with it. it’s a kiss like you always wanted before you met him, the kinda kiss you only saw in movies. he makes you feel like you’re in a movie.

that hand crests over the band of your shorts, caressing the soft skin of your stomach, right above the butterflies that flutter there. it moves down again, into your shorts and your panties, and you shiver. immediately, his fingers start on your clit, rubbing and circling and fuck, it feels good.

“billy, ah-” you whine, bucking up against his fingers. your head moves off the pillows, and he follows you, breaking the kiss to watch you squirm under him. his gaze is observing, like a predator and his prey, like a mad scientist and his experiment.

wet and ready, it only takes a couple more passes before he can slide his hand down and slip two fingers inside you, pumping in and out slowly. now, your eyes slip shut and you tangle your hands in his collar again, grinding down on his fingers.

“billy,” you sob, crying out for him like a believer.

and like that scientist in his lab, watching his creation form and morph, he watches you. he watches the furrow of your brow and the canting of your hips. you are his creation, the nasty things hidden inside you brought out by a boy with a sweet smile and sweeter words. he could sell a fur coat to an eskimo, a glass of water to a drowning man.

drowning. that’s what you’re doing. and he’s watching on with a smile, the same sickening smile that grows across his face as you get so wet that you can hear his fingers disappearing inside you.

at another whine from you, he hums “yeah,” a damning sound that your eyes roll back to. your body tenses, all systems overloaded and overcrowded by the sensation that he unleashes within you. it's burning inside you, lava swirling in your veins, red and hot and you can't think, you can barely breathe. his presence above you adds to it all.

like always, you're close so quick. billy knows your body from months of only being able to put his fingers in you, and the couple of times you've let him take you all the way. "i'm gonna—," you choke, squeezing your eyes shut tighter as you brace yourself for what you know will knock a couple brain cells loose.

he hums again, and through cracked eyes you see his head tilt to the side. with that, and the way his hand grows a little rougher, you come. it's good for you, like it always is, and it leaves you floating.

but for him, that obstacle is out of his way. now, he can get what he wants.

"you ready?" he asks, soft and quiet.

"yeah," you nod meekly, excited to feel him inside you.

he forgoes any further pretense, pulling his wet hand straight out of your shorts and hooking them in his sweats and boxers just enough to free himself, and you shiver at the sight of his fingers covered in your arousal. that same messy hand hits the middle of your shorts and pulls them and your panties to the side in one swift motion, made easy by how spread your legs are.

he looks up at you as his grabs his cock, nudging your clothes back out of place with his leaking tip. with his eyes locked on you he slips in.

fuck, it’s just like you remember. it’s just like you’ve played over and over again. the blunt, burning pain, the wet slide as he reaches just an inch or two deep inside you, cutting off before he slides in any farther. above you, you can feel those deep brown eyes watching and taking.

a soft breath escapes your lungs, all shuddery and shivery and even though he’s just barely inside you, he feels good. he buries his face in the hot skin of your neck.

he doesn’t take any input from you now. he’s already given in to your wiles in allowing this shy act, and he has no interest in asking you to allow anything else.

“billy,” you call as he starts to move slowly. perhaps the act of casting the crown of himself into you, so shallow, is more lewd than what you’re avoiding. lascivious, maybe, this compromise.

he rocks like this for a bit, taking in the feel of your walls kissing and clenching around the tip of him. fat and thick, he stretches you so perfectly, the searing pain being overtaken by pleasure until that’s all that’s left.

the middle ground is fine, for you, as he rocks in and out of you, groaning lowly.

but for him, it’s not enough. all of you belongs to him, and he wants to feel it. he wants to feel you.

this time, he rocks in a little deeper, opening you up farther for him. “billy. .” you say quietly, distantly aware of his cock pushing deeper than it’s supposed to be. a ragged groan pushes out of his chest in response, something pathetic and needing, like he’s groveling for it.

“billy,” you assert to the blank white ceiling, louder, trying to get him to stop his rocking. but a pang of pleasure shoots up your spine because he’s reached a little deeper this time, and you’re not sure if you want him to stop. this is always how it is with him, so confusing, like your nerves get crossed and the pathways to your brain are blocked by the boy above you.

he doesn’t pay you any mind, rocking father and farther. “ah-,” you breathe, cutting yourself off with a deep breath in as he starts to hit spots he’s only hit a handful of times before. it hurts, a little. the sensation has you squirming and bucking under him as he takes what he wants, forcing himself in and breaking down the barriers you’d set. he groans so prettily. you heat up, somewhat proud to be the source of his pleasure.

it’s rough, and you know it shouldn’t feel this good, but as your bed rocks under you and he fucks his cock deeper and deeper, you don’t know why you even tried to hold back. as he slides deeper, the pain intensifies, but ecstasy soon grasps it and merges with it, the two-sided feeling bringing you to the brink of insanity.

in his mind, billy thanks whoever’s listening as he listens to your sounds rise, listens to whines like you’ve been wounded, those pathetic, layered sounds, the kind he likes to hear from you. they’re the kind that blow his ego up, let him know that the hold he has on you is deep-rooted and ever-growing. he planted a seed of control in you the day you two met, and it’s been his absolute pleasure to water it every day.

finally, he’s as deep inside you as he can be, and he’s outright grinding into you, rolling his lean body down onto you while he looses low groans and grunts and heavy huffs. the discomfort that sits in the bottom of your belly has been relieved, turned into something that hurts in the best way. he feels good, even as your mind reels with the violation. he shouldn’t be doing this, a part of your mind tells you, but your body tells you that it’s fine.

you move with his movements, your body bumping up and down every time he bottoms out inside you. silvery whines fly out of your mouth every time his wiry hips meet yours, the force with which he fucks you tipping your whole being off balance.

it’s good. it’s so good. he’s good, hitting that one spot inside you that has you clawing at his back, your cells scrambling to find something to stabilize them. the sound of his body meeting yours fills the room and it’s heaven, in that moment you feel a new pathway being formed, something in you molds to herald billy loomis’s cock digging in you as gospel.

“shit,” you curse, utterly dumbfounded by pleasure. if billy asked you to give him everything you own right now, you’d say yes and ask if there’s anything else he wants with it. he can sense that in you, that devotion and yearning for him that’s begun to water itself without him having to do anything. you’ve forgotten what this even started out as.

when he moves his hand between the both of you and maneuvers under your clothes to rub hard at your clit, everything in you screams. from your mouth, you sob, your head falls sideways and you grip tight at him, eyes shutting down. he hums harshly. he wants you to come, and he wants you to come now.

and you do, for billy, you’ll come whenever he wants.

he follows soon after, slowing but never stopping his deep strokes.

after a beat of silence, he speaks.

“you okay?”

“yeah, i’m alright.” gratefully, in your voice, he no longer hears that barrier. finally, he’s broken you down.

[steddieas-shegoes]

bad idea right

for @steddiesongfics July prompt using song lyrics from ‘bad idea right’ by olivia rodrigo

rated e | 1569 words | cw: alcohol, super mildly dubious consent because of the alcohol | tags: angst with a happy ending, post break up, exes to lovers, getting back together, sex

📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱📱

Eddie isn’t afraid to admit that he makes mistakes. Sometimes, he makes big ones.

Answering the call from Steve is the first big one.

“Steve?” It’s been almost a year since he’s heard from him, their breakup being the finite end to any and all communication. “You okay?”

“Eddie! Oh my god. So I’m out right now, and I’m all fucked up, and I was thinkin’ ‘bout that time I got so drunk you had to carry me to my bed.” Eddie’s listening to Steve, but he feels like his soul is leaving his body. “You remember how gentle you were? You were so worried about tripping up the stairs and you kept cussing when you lost your grip. You kissed my head when you thought I was asleep.”

Steve’s words are slurred, but Eddie can make them out fine. He was good at understanding Steve all the time, even inebriated.

“I knew you were awake,” he gulps. Robin’s gonna kill him for even entertaining Steve like this. Actually, speaking of her- “Is Robbie with you?”

“No.” Eddie can hear the pout on his lips. “She’s on a date with her girlfriend.”

Right. She’d mentioned that to Eddie yesterday when they were texting about plans for next weekend.

Robin had refused to be split between her two best friends when they broke up, and rightfully so. She may have been Steve’s platonic soulmate, but she knew that what happened between them wasn’t Eddie’s fault. She made sure to spend time with Eddie when Steve was otherwise busy.

“Are you good to get home? I can send an Uber for you.” Eddie offers even though he’s sure Steve thought of that already. Even drunk, he would know how to get home.

“I can get my own Uber.”

“I know.”

“I missed your voice.”

Eddie is doing his fuckin’ best not to make his second big mistake tonight, but it’s not going well. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows because he’s weak and loves Steve more than anything even after having his heart torn to pieces by him. Even knowing it’ll only lead to more heartbreak.

“You should get home, Stevie.”

“Missed that, too.”

It’s quieter on Steve’s end now, like he’s stepped away from whatever club or bar he’s holed up in, maybe outside to get some much needed fresh air. Eddie hopes it sobers him enough to realize what he’s done so he hangs up.

“Steve…”

“Can I come over?”

Eddie makes the second big mistake of the night and says yes.

-

When Steve arrives, he’s a beautiful mess.

He’s drunk, but the ride must’ve helped a little. His eyes are clear, his cheeks not as flush as they probably were before.

Eddie’s waiting at the door when he gets there, standing with a smile that doesn’t belong. He’s trying to be welcoming to a man who did everything to make sure he felt like he didn’t belong.

Steve is in his arms as soon as he makes it to the front door. Eddie’s third big mistake of the night is wrapping his arms around him as if he’d never stopped, as if this last year wasn’t the worst of his life and he’s barely made it through.

“Sorry I called. I didn’t know where to go.”

And now Eddie’s confused. He’s confused because Steve has an apartment of his own, one that he definitely knew how to get to even when drunk. Even if he didn’t, he would’ve been able to call Robin to help. Or Max. Or Lucas.

And he’s sure that Steve’s been drunk in the last year and not called him.

“Why couldn’t you go home?”

“Too quiet.”

11 months ago, almost to the day, Steve Harrington told Eddie Munson that he was too loud, too hyper, too messy.

11 months ago, Eddie Munson gathered whatever he could find in four minutes and left Steve’s apartment for the last time.

11 months ago, Steve ruined a three year relationship because he’d been feeling overwhelmed and didn’t tell Eddie until it was too late.

Now, Eddie Munson is sure that Steve Harrington is about to be his fourth big mistake tonight.

“You wanna come in?” He asks, already knowing Steve’s answer.

“Please.”

-

Steve is tucked into Eddie’s bed, curled around a pillow, mouth open as he snores quietly. Eddie watches him for a moment before tip-toeing from the room.

Robin’s livid when she answers her phone.

“This better be good. I was two fingers-“

“Steve’s here.” Eddie interrupts what was sure to be too much information about what Robin was getting up to on her date. “Drunk.”

“He just showed up at your house?” Robin sounds less mad now, more concerned, though he’s not sure who she’s more concerned about.

“He called first.”

“And you answered.”

“Yeah. Well.” Eddie sighs. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch, but just wanted you to know he’s safe and I’ll make sure he gets home tomorrow.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. He said he was just gonna watch a movie tonight or else I would’ve suggested he go hang with Dustin or something.”

“It’s not your job to babysit him.” Eddie doesn’t like the way she said that, but he’s probably reading too much into it. “He’s an adult.”

“Yeah, no. He’s. I mean, he’s fine. It’s just that we all try to keep his mind busy since…ya know.” Robin explains, though Eddie feels even more confused.

“Since he specifically told me I was too much for him?”

Robin’s silence speaks volumes.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is behind him and he’s quick to turn and make sure he’s okay. “Sleep?”

“I’ll text you,” he whispers to Robin before hanging up and turning to Steve. “You should go lay down. I’ll bring you some water.”

“You too?” Steve was blinking slowly, barely awake as he stood in Eddie’s living room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stevie.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

It’s not the time for them to have this conversation, and it’s not the time for Eddie to wish he could forget it ever happened so he can hop into bed with Steve. But he thinks Steve is probably sobering up little by little, and if he expects Steve to sleep, he may have to do this.

“You made it very clear how you felt. I’m just trying to respect your space until I can get you home tomorrow.” Robin would be proud of how he’s handling this, he thinks. He’s at least keeping things civil even though his head is screaming at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

Eddie stares at him, tries to find the telltale signs of Steve lying. He doesn’t see any.

Steve’s too tired and too buzzed to hide it.

“Then why did you say any of it?” Eddie feels his chest constricting, his heartbeat racing the longer he looks at him. “Why did you make me think I was too much?”

“My dad came by that day,” Steve’s head falls, his hands wringing in front of him. “My dad had spent two hours telling me I wasn’t enough and that I’d done nothing but disappoint him and I’d never be what he wanted. And it wasn’t the first time, but it was after my boss gave a promotion to someone else even though I was more qualified and my head was killing me and Robin and I had gotten into a stupid argument that morning and it was a bad day.”

Eddie’s staring at him, mouth wide open, watching as the man he loves falls apart.

“It’s no excuse. I shouldn’t’ve said any of it no matter what. Not when it’s not even true. I’ve never felt like you’re too much or too loud.” Steve’s stepping closer now. “I’ve always just wanted to soak up whatever energy you have. And I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re more than I deserve without saying you’re too much for what I can offer.”

Damn Steve Harrington and his charm, even when buzzed, even when exhaustion is causing him to curl into himself.

Damn Eddie’s inability to avoid his fifth mistake of the night.

He doesn’t know if he is the catalyst or if they both are, but suddenly his mouth is on Steve’s and teeth knock together, and there’s a slight taste of blood on Eddie’s tongue.

There’s moans and hands against skin and in hair and hard cocks rubbing against thighs and bruises on hips.

There’s Steve’s head hitting the pillow and Eddie’s mouth sucking marks into his stomach and inner thigh and the blanket falling off the bed as they try to strip out of their clothes too fast.

There’s laughter and soft touches and nails biting into skin and check-ins.

There’s love when Eddie holds his face in his hands as he slides into Steve for the first time in too long, and there’s hope when Steve cries out for more, and there’s passion that Eddie knows he’d never find with anyone else.

After, when there’s sweat and tears and cum and an unfortunate wet spot in the middle of the bed, there’s whispers of tomorrow and the next day and apologies and promises.

It may have been a bad idea answering Steve’s call, but Eddie’s happy to make more mistakes if it means keeping Steve in his arms and being enough for each other.

[queers-gambit]

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[dcxdpdabbles]

Respawn and Relive

@thenightwolf51 who tagged me in this months ago, but I didn't know enough about Respawn to write something. I didn't forget! I just still haven't found much on him, so sorry if I get his character wrong.

They don't give him a name.

It's one of the first things he notices they do to dehumanize him. It's not like they see clones as humans- he's just a science experiment meant to keep the legacy of the League of Assassins alive, even at the cost of his life.

He is just there to be trained to follow commands, and if needed, he is spare parts for the Real Son. He is made from part of the same DNA as the Real Son, but that hardly matters to what should be his mother, as she does not feel anything for his biological father and thus feels nothing for the being created from the two DNAs.

He is the clone created by Slade Wilson- alias Deathstroke- and Talia al Ghul. She may not had a hand in his creation, as that was done by her father, but she had no issues using him.

Torment him. Rip him apart and put it back together just to see what happens.

She looks at him with the same gaze she would a sword. Valuating his worth by how well he can do in training, how healthy his organs are, and how he should be nothing but a loyal dog.

But he isn't. Not really.

If this was all he knew, maybe he would be the weapon they wanted, but he knows more. Remembers more. Yes, he doesn't have all his memories, but he has flashes- glimpses- of the life he had before the Leauge.

They would disapprove of the memories, which makes them all the more precious.

He can still clearly remember his mother- his real mother- a brilliant mind, his father's warm, solid hugs, and his sister's gentle eyes. He can recall his home's layout even if he can not remember the street or how far it was from his school. He can identify his two best friends' faces even if their names slip through his fingers like falling sand.

He also remembers his first name and the initials of his last.

Danny F.

He thinks he died before, waking up as the clone. He remembers standing inside a metallic cave- or a large hole in a machine?- and being electrocuted. He remembers the screams, the flashes of light, the pain, and even a glimpse of his best friends' horrified faces but not much else.

The next clear memory is looking in a mirror to see white hair and green eyes. The same combination he now sports as the Leguage's weapon and spare organ farm.

The memories after that are filled with harsh training, even more, brutal torture, and the reintegration that should his half-brother ever need them, he would give up his organs for the Real Son.

He is, after all, Damian Wayne's gift. He was created to harvest his super healing for the boy's body parts. Danny thinks he hates him, but he's not sure he can remember what hate is supposed to feel like.

He does remember what love is supposed to feel like.

Sometimes, when all he can do is lay in his cell, body aching as they test his healing factor beyond its limits- they cut off his left arm once, just to watch the tissue slowly regrow- he lets himself drown in his old memories, in the few dream-like sequences.

Some make sense, others don't. For some, he's a black-haired blue-eyed boy, and for others, he has white hair and green eyes.

Danny is sitting in class, eagerly taking notes on a topic he has been having trouble with-

-He's playing fetch with a small green dog, throwing snowballs into the air, flying after the excited creature-

-Danny is playing video games with a goth girl and a nerdy boy, laughing so hard he can't see the buttons on the control correctly-

-He's flaying alongside his sister, aiming his outstretched arm at a figure in the sky, shooting a green ray at the same time she does down below in her mechanical armor-

-Danny is helping his mother mix the dough for the cookies. He is swaying his hips to the song she has on the speaker. She's in her teal jumpsuit, having come up from the lab to do mother/son cookies as they do every Thanksgiving-

-He's testing the latest blaster with his father. They wanted to see if the auto-aiming feature was interfering with his flying. He flickers the white bangs out of his eyes as his father cheers from the roof while he takes aim-

Yes, Danny knows what love is supposed to feel like, even if he can't remember all the details, even if his full name evades him. He will escape the Leauage of Assiagins and find that feeling again.

Maybe he'll track down his biological father. Deathstroke does not know a clone was created by him, so maybe he will be willing to take him in.

It takes months, but eventually, they tell him Damian Wayne needs a kidney. Why? They don't say, but Talia knows her Beloved will donate his own, and she won't stand for it. She orders him to fulfill his duty as guards drag him to the operation table.

He grits his teeth as they strap him down and prep for surgery. Thankfully, they don't apply any anesthetics- they don't deem him worthy of a painless operation- so he has a clear head for escape.

The surgery has a thirty-window opening with no guards around. He waits until they are about to begin when he taps into the powers his memories tell him. He makes his limbs intangible, slipping through the restraints with great effort.

The medics only have a few seconds to be shocked before he is upon them. They lay in a pool of blood- not dead. His chest flares up in pain if he kills, so he tries to avoid it as much as his environment allows- as he flies through the walls. He has been planning here, so he knows what to do. Turning invisible, he passes under a helicopter scheduled for a month supply run.

By doing so, he does not appear on any radars using the large cargo as camouflage. Danny drops into the ocean as the alarms go off on that wrenched island, allowing his whole body to turn tangible. This way, the water does not slow him down as he flies deeper and deeper down, praying that they won't be able to track him the further he goes. When he gets to the part where everything is too dark to see- he picks a direction from where he came and hits top speed.

Traveling three hundred miles an hour, Danny escapes the League of Assians with all his organs intact, so take that Damian Wayne.

He has no real destination in mind but maybe, he can find the little town of his memories or maybe he'll find Deathstroke.

Maybe he will discover what the F. in his name stands for.

For now, he'll work under the name Respawn because that's a name he picked out for himself, and he'll do what he wants. He's no one's tool any longer.

(Miles away Tim Drake squints at the small dot darting from Nanda Parbat on his spying map. He's not sure what kind of misle Ra's just shot, but it's traveling fast, and he feels like he needs to phone this in.

"Hey B, we may have an issue." )

[1d1195]

Sunflower - Extra I

Read Sunflower here | ~2.3k words

From Me: This is mostly dialogue. I thought it was cute 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: fluffy and maybe a tiny bit of angst.

Summary: Harry reminisces on their first date. How badly he wanted to kiss her and know everything about her.

“History.”

He smiled. One question answered.

Only a thousand or so more to go.

His head rested on her stomach, nestled against her soft shirt. Harry loved looking at her, but it was good he was tucked into her embrace because she was so gorgeous it still made him tongue tied sometimes. “Why?”

“I loved the content, I just sucked at remembering the details. I never remembered names or countries that were involved in a conflict. It’s all just vague ideas and things. Dates, though. I was good at memorizing dates. Probably because it was numbers. Battles and locations? Not a clue. I sucked.”

He chuckled. “What’s your favorite candle scent?”

If anyone had told her that Harry enjoyed being snuggly and being the little spoon months ago while he was visiting the bistro, she wouldn’t have believed you. But here he was. His ear pressed to her tummy, his hands wrapped under her back, and her fingers combing through his hair. He was making her body about a thousand degrees warmer, but she didn’t care. It was nice. Like a blanket. Having Harry so close was a dream come true. “The candles they put out for fall in stores. Anything that smells like a campfire or apples. Or both.”

He closed his eyes unable to believe how lucky he was to hold her like this. His legs dangled off the side of her couch and he nodded tiredly against her. He had a tremendously long day at the office. They were supposed to leave in a few minutes to go get dinner—one of their only date nights, but he didn’t want to move. The way her fingers touched his scalp lightly scratching and massaging an itch he didn’t even know existed. Staying in seemed better. But she was all dressed up. Her makeup so pretty and flawless amplifying how beautiful she looked.

He couldn’t not show her off. Even if she was all his anyway.

Her stomach grumbled beneath his ear. “Gotta feed you, hmm?”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled softly. “We can stay in,” she suggested, nudged her feet until he heard one of her shoes fall to the floor and then the other.

He shook his head sitting up. His face was instantly colder than he wanted it to be. His arms ached to hold her close again even though they had been snuggled up for hours. She smiled that beautiful smile that made him so happy he could have stared at her for ages.

How lucky was he that he got to be so close to her.

*

Their first date, Harry showed up an hour early because he was so anxious and excited. He apologized profusely, but she didn't mind. "You'll just have to watch me get ready," she warned him. So he did. He watched her curl her hair and put on makeup in awe. But most importantly, she really didn’t mind in the slightest. She simply directed him to sit on the toilet seat lid and told him to be patient while she got even prettier (his words not hers).

Of course, he was in awe because watching her was his favorite movie. It was like watching an artist painting the next Sistine Chapel. Her smile met his eyes no less than twenty times in the mirror as she worked and while they chatted.

He didn’t need to ask what kind of shampoo she used because he could see it through the glass enclosure around her shower. Something floral and light that permeated when he got close to her. When her curling iron released steam from the product she used in tandem with the sweet-smelling scent. It made him feel completely relaxed even though he was still so nervous.

“What’s your favorite song?” He asked while she did her mascara. She grinned again, shyly.

“I’m more of a favorite of a week kind of song lover.”

“This week?” He wondered.

She tilted her head. “State Lines by Novo Amor.”

“Pretty,” he nodded. “Sad, no?”

She shrugged. “I think it’s hopeful.”

“Hopeful?” he repeated. “They’re in love but they’re in a long-distance relationship and s’literally creating distance between them emotionally,” he frowned. It was a sad song for her to love so much. It was pretty, probably good to listen to if she was feeling down or needed a nap. She turned around to look at him head on, with a smirk, without the mirror to play the go between. It was full eye contact. Her pretty, stunning eyes that made him tongue tied. The smile that made his heart skip a beat. Her entire presence the reason he had spent hundreds maybe thousands of dollars at the bistro over the last four months with the prettiest, brightest flower known to man on every surface of the place.

“The ending,” she said simply. “Extremely hopeful. He wants it to work.”

Harry knew the feeling. Suddenly it was his favorite song too.

*

“Why did y’pick finance?” He asked. They were at dinner when he asked. Not The Sunflower Bistro. Harry did suggest eating there. It was an important place to him after all. But she insisted elsewhere. Mainly for fear that Niall or Jake would make her crazy or embarrassed. It wouldn’t be good for her mental sanity for a first date. Plus, if he was honest, Harry was still a bit jealous of Jake even though he knew he didn’t need to be. But he didn’t want to test his own luck with his emotions. Nor did he want to share his very sweet date with anyone. Even if it was only due to her politeness that would keep them talking to her as they served them.

“I love numbers, and I liked economics in high school and found something so fascinating about the ebb and flow of money. I know that makes me sound money hungry but it’s not. I’ve been applying to a ton of nonprofit organizations. I want to work for a company that wants to help people. I want to make sure kids have school lunches and that elderly people have a place to live that won’t cost an arm and a leg.”

Tongue-tied. So completely, totally, tongue-tied. There was no way anyone this sweet would want to be with Harry. He worked for a big scary corporate job and was probably the exact opposite of what she wanted. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He nodded, then shook his head while clearing his throat. How embarrassing would it be if he couldn’t talk to her on their first date because he was so goddamn in love with her? “How many siblings do y’have?” He needed a safer topic. One that wasn’t going to make him fall in love with her so readily.

“Just one. We’re not very close, but I wish we were. I’d still kill for him. But he’s still in high school and I’m finishing college. I’m hoping when we’re older we’ll get closer.”

“My sister and I are closer now that we’re older. I imagine I was a pain in her butt when we were younger. When she was a teen, and I was an annoying little kid.”

“I bet she loved you still. There’s six years between us, I loved the crap out of him even when I wanted to tear his head off.”

He chuckled. “I think you’re nicer than Gemma.”

She smiled and sipped her drink. Harry wanted to know everything about her. Every seemingly trivial piece of information there was to know. It felt like if he didn’t know he would explode. It was like he was studying for an exam, and she was every answer. All the months he spent in his regular booth twice a week, he felt like he learned nothing. Now he was trying to cram for some made up test and nothing about his line of questions made sense.

“What kind of music do y’listen t’when you’re cooking?”

“Like this classic rock radio station that my dad listened to my entire childhood. It’s super nostalgic but it’s like a hug when I’m alone cooking for myself,” she wrinkled her nose. “It’s kind of lame, isn’t it?”

He shook his head. “No, s’nice,” he smiled. “Send me the station so I can listen too,” he suggested.

Her head tilted; her eyes thoughtful as she grinned back at him. As much as he wanted to know everything about her, he would have loved to stare at her just as much. He opened his mouth to ask another question but fortunately the waiter interrupted.

It probably wasn’t appropriate to ask her how many kids she wanted on a first date.

*

Harry walked her to the door feeling more anxious than when he came to pick her up. He was supposed to kiss her. Supposed to. But how could he? How could he do that if he was worried he would drool in her mouth or if he would do it wrong and ruin it? If he ruined it, she would never go on another date with him. After all that, all the stuff he learned about her, it seemed cruel for his anxiety to ruin the end of the night.

“I had a really nice time,” her voice was soft as they shared the top step of the stoop outside her apartment. A one bedroom in a small duplex house. Her friend lived on the other side, and she was glad there wasn’t a car in her driveway to make her feel exposed.

“Good,” he bit his lip. “I... I guess I’ll let y’go. I know y’work a double tomorrow.”

Was that disappointment in her eyes? “Oh... yeah. Yeah, I do,” Her face fell ever so slightly. If Harry wasn’t so entranced he would have missed it for sure. Leaning in he pressed his lips to her cheek. Her skin was so soft and he was so nervous he was going to linger and act like a creep.

“Good night,” he murmured.

“Good night,” Harry turned the second the word left her mouth. He walked to his car feeling like an idiot. He closed his eyes as he touched the car handle and then there was a touch on his back. “I’m sorry!” She blurted then looked up at the sky and winced. “Jesus, I’m so sorry,” she croaked.

Harry blinked. “Sorry?” He questioned.

“Yes, so sorry. I feel like I ruined our first date. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I lost an hour of prep time and I’m not blaming you. I was so happy to have you around for an extra hour but I didn’t get to think about what I wanted to ask or say. Then you just asked all these really sweet and thoughtful questions. I didn’t ask you one question about yourself, Harry. Not one I don’t know why you even stayed the whole time, I feel so terrible. I don’t know what happened and I’m sad you didn’t want to kiss me because of it—”

Harry was in awe, but he wasn’t someone that liked to inflict pain on others. So he cupped either side of her jaw and kissed her. Just pressed his lips to hers and ran his thumb along her cheek as he did. She grabbed one of his elbows and sank into the kiss as well. Her lips returning the pressure perfectly. There wasn’t too much drool and he didn’t ruin it. He pulled back and her eyelids fluttered open. Her cheek was warm beneath his thumb. If it was a bit lighter out, he imagined a pretty blush bloomed across her cheeks.

“I really wanted t’kiss you,” he murmured. “Can I kiss y’again?”

She nodded mutely, her eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his mouth back to hers, one hand moving from her jaw to the back of her neck before it smoothed down her spine and he pulled her closer to him by pressing against the small of her back. He kissed her softly again restraining the moan that begged to come from his throat. When he pulled away again, he swallowed.

“Y’didn’t do anything wrong. M’so... tongue tied over you. I want t’know everything ‘bout you. I was trying so hard not t’let the conversation die because I didn’t want you t’think I was stupid. Or boyish and only obsessed with how pretty y’looked—which y’did, by the way. You look stunning,” her smile looked equal parts relieved and adorable. “I didn’t even notice y’didn’t ask a question.”

“We talked all the time at Sunflower.”

“I think it was different when I was jus’ a customer, kitten,” he shrugged. “Y’flitted about and chatted so easily because it was your job. M’glad y’were nervous. Means it wasn’t a chore for you t’go out with me.”

She giggled and Harry wondered if he could record the sound, and have it play in his headphones while he fell asleep. “I want to know everything about you, Harry. I’m sorry I didn’t ask more questions.”

“You don’t have t’be sorry, love,” he assured her, kissed the top of her head and pulled her into his embrace and leaned against his car as he held her. “You could ask them on the next date?” He offered as a question.

“Yes,” she nodded against his body. “A next date for sure.”

*

“What are you thinking about?” She whispered. “You’ve got this dreamy look in your eye.”

Did he? How long had he been staring off thinking about their first date. Poor thing had to be starving, and he was just lying there, keeping her trapped in his arms while he pictured their first two kisses. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Thinking of your other girlfriend?” She wrinkled her nose. Harry snorted.

“Don’t be ridiculous, kitten,” he rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead before he sat up shifting to hold her on his lap as if she weighed no more than a basket of laundry. “You’re the only girl for me.”

--

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[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter seven:

➴ warnings: brief mention of smut

➴ word count: 2.4k

➴ author’s note: is the thing people say about rainstorms before rainbows true? i guess it’s time for soph and jack to find out. “happy” reading ♡

FALLING out of love was something you had yet to experience.

Of course, back then you thought you had fallen out of love with Harris, but soon you’d realize that you had never really loved him. It was some kind of strong admiration, a need to have someone to call yours, someone who you could write love songs for, someone who you could imagine yourself getting old with.

‘Course, none of those things happened with Harris, not even during your honeymoon phase. You were young when you started dating him, twenty-one and with no real idea of what love truly was.

So an older actor who thought you were cute?

It felt like you had hit the jackpot.

But now, as you try your hardest to forget what Jack meant— means— to you, you realize that it isn’t as easy as you initially thought it would be.

Jack is everywhere, occupying every corner of your mind. You remember how sweet he’d talk to you after sex, always treating you with kindness and making sure you were well taken care of. How he’d send you memes that were purely about Hockey even if you never understood what was so funny about them, how he’d get excited talking about his job and how he’d try to explain all the terms to you.

Despite what happened, Jack had made you so happy. It was sad to think that it was all probably a joke to him, but for you? No, it was real. So real. Every time you looked at his face, you reminded yourself that some things are not meant to last forever.

But God knew how much you wanted him to be your forever.

Keeping yourself busy was easy, and you were thankful for that. Your small concert, a week ago, filled you with so much joy and contentment— you were alive and not thinking about the middle child of the Hughes family for the first time in seven months.

Grace made sure that you took enough breaks but whenever you were alone with your thoughts for a long time, the first image your brain liked to share with you was Jack’s smile and Jack’s eyes and Jack’s nose and lips.

It was tiring.

You didn’t tell anyone, but you secretly watched his games when you were alone at night. You didn’t know much, but the experts keep saying that this is Hughes’ worst season and that he’s playing like shit, which, unfortunately, made you worry.

But you wouldn’t go back, you couldn’t go back.

Sometimes, at night, you’d remember how he looked at you when you told him you were in love with him. Or how he looked when you told him to leave, so desperate for you to hear him, at least for a few more minutes.

You’d replay that day inside of your head every night, like a nighttime routine, trying to find a different, better ending.

You’d always come up empty.

Sighing, you looked at your phone, reading Grace’s text with a smile.

Grace being Grace.

Even if she technically worked for you, you’ve barely seen Grace the past couple of days. You were both so busy it was almost impossible to keep up with each other’s schedule. But you did manage to free up some space so you could at least have lunch with her, and turns out she thought it’d be cool to include Nico too.

So, lunch at Nico’s house.

You said goodbye to the people who were working with you at the GQ photo shoot and drove to his house, blasting music through your speakers. No thoughts allowed!

You rang the doorbell, waiting until Grace herself opened the door, like she owned the house. You still weren’t sure if you wanted to know what was truly happening between the two of them, so you didn’t ask questions.

“Hi, my little popstar,” Grace shouted, hugging you tightly.

“Stop putting little before every noun when you’re referring to me.” You mumbled, face still shoved in the crook of her neck.

“Why would I do that? It’s fun and true. Come inside, Nico’s ordering pizza!”

You entered the house, feeling your cheeks getting warm when you remembered what happened the last time you were here.

“Shut the fuck up, Sophia,” during sex, he only used your name whenever he was really pissed, and apparently this was one of those times. “Don’t need anyone hearing how much of a whore you actually are.”

“Fuck, uh, come for me, baby, c’mon,” Jack whispered, hands still on you, dick fucking you hard and rough, leaving your insides raw and deliciously hurting. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”

Well. No more of that.

“No— Man, listen. I want a large pepperoni and a large margherita, please,” Nico smiled at you before putting his hand on his head, holding his phone with the other. “Why the hell would I put pineapple on a fucking pepperoni pizza? Let me speak to your manager, that’s— that’s a crime.”

“He’s just a Swiss Karen, really,” Grace sighed, sitting on the couch. You sat next to her, watching as Hischier tried to explain to the manager why pineapples shouldn’t even be included in pizzas in the first place. “I think he’s just nervous about the games.”

“Yeah,” you wanted to tell her that you’ve been watching the games and that it didn’t look really good for them but it would just give your I’m-already-over-Jack facade away. “Must be hard.”

“Tell me about it, I barely see him. It’s like hockey players only exist during the summer or whatever.” She sighed again, fixing her braids. You looked at her, full of compassion.

If you and Jack dated, would you feel like her?

No.

You wouldn’t know the answer to that question because that won’t happen.

“Hi, Soph,” you heard the Devils’ captain say, greeting you.

“Hey there, thirteen. How are you?”

He yawned, stretching his arms. “Tired, stressed, hungry, tired.” He stopped for a second before continuing. “Have I mentioned tired?”

“Sucks to be you, to be honest,” you giggled, looking at him funny.

The pizza would take a while to get delivered— especially since Nico argued with the manager and now they were probably taking their time spitting on the dough— so you used the time to catch up on their lives.

Grace talked about how her marketing degree never prepared her for how much work she’d actually have to get done, and how much she missed her mom and dad, and how Jessica, your vocal coach, was starting to piss her off with her I-am-better-than-everyone attitude.

Nico talked about the games, and how he basically was never at home, and how he’d spend half of his time on planes and the other half on practice and yet he still felt like they weren’t going to make it.

That made you wonder how Jack was doing with all of this. If he had come back to Newark after their week away, to spend thanksgiving with his family.

Not that you cared, you just wondered.

Noticing how both Grace and Nico stayed quiet, you realized that they’re probably waiting for you to update them on your life. You smiled awkwardly.

“I have been working a lot,” you shrugged. “I love what I do so it isn’t exactly working for me. Besides that, I sleep, eat and drink water.”

They both looked at you with pity, which made your stomach ache. You didn’t want anyone pitying you, in fact, you didn’t need it. You weren’t a damsel in distress, you didn’t need to be saved— you just chose to spend your free time alone. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

“I’m gonna go grab some wine from the cellar, be right back,” Nico announced, out of nowhere, getting up and heading downstairs. Grace looked at him with puppy eyes and you laughed.

“People in love are disgusting,” you joked, and Grace rolled her eyes at you.

“Shut it, Twilight,” she laughed, not denying it. “I’m gonna go grab the glasses.”

The doorbell rang and you got up. “It looks like I’m gonna go grab the pizza.”

“Make sure they didn’t put poison in it!” Grace shouted, making her way to the kitchen, while you walked until you were in front of the door, smiling still.

“Sophia?”

Hi, Universe. It’s your girl, Sophia. So, what is this about? What are you trying to do here? Let me tell you now, it won’t work.

“Hum, hi?” It sounded more like a question than a greeting, but out of all things you would have imagined that could happen to you that day, opening the door and finding Jack on the other side of it wasn’t on your list.

“What are you,” he stuttered, clutching hard the bag he was holding in his hands. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I’m sorry.”

You leaned against the door, confusion taking over your face. Jack wasn’t the type of man to apologize so easily.

“It’s fine.”

You both went quiet, staring at each other. It was weird to be around Jack without touching him, your heart still hurting because you love him deeply.

It was the type of love you’d want to tell your children, if you decided to have them one day. The type of love where you’d come home after a long day, just to find your forever sitting on the couch, yapping about his day. The type of love you read in books and watch movies about, the type of love you want to write songs about. The type of love where his hugs feel like a cold, gentle breeze during a sunny day, and his kisses felt like the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

You loved Jack Hughes deeply and he wanted him to be your forever more than anything.

But it wouldn’t happen. And it’s fine. It’d be fine.

“Do you want me to call Nico?” You whispered, averting his gaze.

“You don’t need to, I just stopped by to give him this,” he raised the bag in his hands, shrugging.

“Okay…” You nodded, not sure of what to say. “Then, I guess I’m… gonna go. Nice seeing you.” You lied, because you’d much rather keep watching him on TV, with a safe distance between you two, than to face him in real life.

“No, Soph, wait—” he called you, putting his feet between the door gap. “Can we, like, talk?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.” You retorted, biting your bottom lip.

“Soph, did they spit on our pizza?” Grace’s voice sounded cheerful behind you, and you cringed, knowing exactly how she’s going to react once she sees Jack here. “I hope they only spitted on Nico’s pizza, to be honest. What are you doing there— Oh.”

You turned around and looked at her, smiling awkwardly. No one moved a muscle for at least ten seconds and you gave in, knowing that discussing things with her would be harder than hearing Jack out.

“I’ll just… I’ll be right back, okay?” You announced, pointing to Jack behind you. “It’s fine.”

“But—”

“It’s fine, Grace. Go find Nico, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to feel any shittier. Grace only stared at Jack for what seemed to be a whole minute before nodding once and making her way to Nico.

“I guess she still hates me.” Jack pointed out, chuckling humorlessly.

You turned around, raising your eyebrows at him. “Can you blame her?”

“No, not really,” he shrugged, putting the bag on the floor and putting his hands inside of his jeans’ pockets. “I get that you’re still mad at me.”

“I told you, I’m not mad at you. Hurt? Maybe. But I knew what I was getting myself into, so I guess I can’t really blame you.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying really hard to be the bigger person when all you wanted to do was smash his face into a wall and kiss him right after that.

“I want you to know that I am sorry about what happened,” he stepped closer, making you smell his cologne, sandalwood and something else that smelled a lot like money. Weird combination but it worked for him. “Truly. I didn’t fuck Ava or any other woman while we were together. I— I just wanted to be with you, Soph, I need you to know that.”

You stared at his face, trying so hard to find the same expression you found on your ex’s face whenever he lied and manipulated you. But you couldn’t— Jack was still the same as he was seven months ago, when he hit on you at that dinner party.

He still looked like the guy who held you close after sex, the guy who order take out for you just because he knew you’d get too tired to cook for yourself, the guy who had a playlist just for his favorite songs by you, the guy who never understood your chronically online memes but laughed nonetheless because he said the way you laugh is funnier than the joke itself.

Jack still looked like he could be your forever.

So close yet so fucking distant.

You could feel yourself slipping into him again and you knew you couldn’t do this with yourself. You had to choose yourself before choosing anyone else.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” you whispered, smiling softly. “It’s fine. As you said, we weren’t even dating. I bet you wouldn’t have reacted the way I did if it’d been the other way around.”

He looked at you like you had grown a second head. “I would’ve gone crazy if it was the other way around. Sophia, I know it’s hard to believe but—”

“It’s fine, Jack, it really is,” you stated, shaking your head. “I accept your apologies but I think—” you broke eye contact, stepping back. “I think it’s just best if we stay out of each other’s way.”

You couldn’t tell which one of you cracked first. Jack, who looked at you like he’d seen a ghost, let his shoulders fall, looking as dejected as ever. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes but you held on tight. You had already cried in front of him once, and you weren’t going to do that again.

“Soph,” you heard his voice, so soft and so unlike him. “Soph, you don’t… you don’t mean that, baby.”

“I do,” you looked up, squeezing your eyes shut. “I do, Jack. And it will be fine. Let’s just move on.”

“Soph…”

“Please,” you whispered, already stepping back into the house, hands on the handle. “Jack. Please.”

You finally looked at him, noticing how his eyes looked so blue and sad. He stared at you before shaking his head, once and then twice, stepping back.

“I’m so sorry, Soph.” He said softly, before leaving Nico’s porch and making his way to his car.

“I know you are, baby,” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall. “I am, too.”

“Hum… pizza for Nico Hischier?”

Great.

[apollodeath]

Come over.

Summary: you and König have been FWB for a while and he’s back from a 6 month deployment and he wants you over. Now.

A/N: I made this in 2 hours and did not re-read… so, there’s probably mess ups. I apologize. I just wanted to post/write something smut filled. I can’t get König off my mind. So I wanted to just cave and write a one shot of him. Also written to the song “inside friend” by Leon Bridges ft. John Mayer.

MDNI 18+

Warnings/content warnings: size kink, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of wounds/scars from battle. Reader is referred to as You, love and Maus but mentions of pussy and breasts. If I forgot anything I’m so sorry.

Reader = purple

König = green

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

You sat at work bored scrolling on your phone. Since it was so cold out your shop didn’t get many customers. A text pops up and your eyes flicker to it then back taking a double take.

Your notification reads:

[König 💦]

A text from him surprised you cause last time you heard from him was 6 months ago. When he went on deployment. He was predictable and persistent which is why you liked being his… friend with benefits. His inside friend.

You feel your body heat up when you read his text.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

You smirk at your phone texting back with the feeling of eagerness building. You hate to admit after König left you kinda just stuck to yourself not really interested in a partner or hooking up. Your hands could satisfy you, not as great as König but they worked.

[König 💦]

— hey. you think you could come over?

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

You placed your phone away once customers came in.

Time passed slowly now that you had König on your mind. The last time you saw him he was was slow and patient, taking his time to engulf you in his body, to devour slowly, he was moving so slow then, it felt like it took days for him to actually push into you.

You sit on your chair behind the counter feeling your pussy pulse to the thought.

He was fresh out of the shower and he started by simply kissing you. You went home around 5am that day and he went to the airport around the same time. You remember thinking you’d really miss him if he didn’t come back.

A buzz on your phone makes you check and knock your memories away.

[König 💦]

— I’m back.

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

You go to text back when another text comes in.

[König 💦]

— Hey yeah I can. Same time as before?

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

His texts were sometimes out of place. He didn’t know English well enough to text but in person he knows enough. Still his words ‘I need you.’ Literally made you a puddle in your seat.

You look at the time and it reads [3:37pm] you begin to think:

If no one shows up and it hits 4pm you were closing the shop and heading over.the perks of being your own boss. For the first time since opening your own shop you beg the world at this moment that no one comes in.

The world grants your wish and you rush to close up once your clock shows the correct time. You grab your jacket rushing home to shower.

Once you get back on the road to König’s apartment you feel your nervous energy turning to desire and hotness.

You text him:

[König 💦]

— of course. 7pm.

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

You flirt back and smile hearing your phone go off seconds after hitting send.

[König 💦]

— if you can come more soon faster. that would be best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

— god. I’m already getting hard.

You smirk and text back while you’re stopped at a red light.

[König 💦]

best. I need you.

— Omw. I need you too.

—god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

You teased and started driving once again hearing your phone buzz a few times as you pulled up outside the apartment building.

[König 💦]

— god. I’m already getting hard.

— Aww. I wanted you to get hard in my mouth.

— Scheiße

— fuck*

You bit your bottom lip knowing he craved you the way you craved him. You get out of the car and go up to his apartment on the 5th floor. You breath in and out before knocking. You’re surprised at how fast he was to swing open the door. It’s like he was waiting by it. You laugh a little.

“Come in mein süßer Freund” he’s wearing some of his gear-like clothes. His sniper hood on, of course. It’s what peaked your interest when you fist met König in a library one day.

You walk in while König closes the door behind you, slowly looking around you see unpacked luggage by the couch.

“I hope it’s not to warm in here.” His voice makes you turn to look at him, you can tell he’s a little nervous like he used to be when you first met him; his eyes trace you like a feral dogs just smelt another dog in heat.

“It’s been awhile…” you spoke softly trying to break the tension.

“Can we skip that part?” he spoke just as gentle but more his bedroom voice. You knew the difference all too well. You nod in agreement stripping your sweater off exposing your chest to him.

“Welcome home?” You say with a soft blush spreading over your cheeks and chest. König’s apartment was heated perfectly for the winter outside but yet your body still had chills making your nipples rise.

He takes no time walking up to you lifting his hood over his lips locking his with yours, quickly grabbing your chest in both his hands kneading them placing your nipples between his fingers knuckles every knead slightly pitching them.

He was so sloppy and needy with his kisses, his hand movements were almost painful with how needy he is. You didn’t realise your own neediness until now. He made you whimper from these touches. He then wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you against his hips; through your leggings/sweater you felt his hard cock pressing against your tummy. His height was so dramatic his cock was above your waist it made you smirk and let a little giggle out.

König stopped the kissing to look at you.

“What meine liebe?” He asked slowly unzipping his pants.

“I think I forgot how tall you were.” You giggle a little again. König chuckles.

“I think I forgot how small you were, Maus”

You blush looking away then glancing at his bedroom down the hallway.

“I’ll take you there.” He reached over grabbing you and picking you up over his shoulder like a cave man had just gotten a fresh kill. It made you laugh.

“I think I also forgot how strong you are” you added as a joke. Saying all these ‘I think I forgot’s made him laugh. König placed you on your back on the tall, large bed. When you first came over to his apartment you realized that his bed came off the ground higher than most beds, when you sat on the edge your feet didn’t touch the ground. König looked at you from his standing position at the edge, he stripped his pants down along with his underwear then pulling his shirt off. You laid on your back just watching him. Admiring him. His cock stood curved at attention. He had a new scar you noticed; it was healed but fresher than the others. It looked like a jagged…maybe a bullet wound? On his upper chest almost shoulder. König noticed and shook his head.

“Don’t ask.” He grabbed your ankles pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. You nodded in agreement.

König took your leggings and panties in his hands pulling them down.

“Lift.” He said softly and you lifted your hips helping him pull them off. He breathed in and out taking you in, fully nude, laying on your back with your legs bent exposing yourself to him.

You felt yourself already leaking with excitement. It was the drive that felt like foreplay. He takes his cock in one hand placing the other on your mound placing his thumb softly on your clit swiveling it. His breath is heavy already just at seeing your body’s reactions to his thumb rubbing over your sensitive clit, lifting your hips to his touch, your legs spread more ready to take him whole. He guides his cock into you pushing in just quick enough to stretch you with a slight sting, it’s instantly replaced with pleasure making your head fall back into the bed. He glides in so easy your velvety, wet, warm pussy is sucking him in.

“I think I forgot how wet you get.” He stated through gritted teeth his voice dipped in pleasure. He tried to joke but the moment was all too serious to remember to try and sound like he was joking. He felt his stress melt off his shoulders as his cock twitches in you.

König starts thrusting short, hard patterns only taking his cock out 2 inches at most leaving the leftover 5 inches as he ruts his hips against yours.

His hands grab your hips tightly and you bite your lip hard feeling immense pleasure from this, his cock’s curve is just right to rub on the inside making you moan out his name and anything else that’ll come out.

König is whimpering/grunting at each thrust. His back is curled in. His face is above yours. You take this opportunity to reach out to his face mask suddenly he stops and his hand is around your wrist tightly.

“Don’t.”

“I just wanted.. another kiss…” you try catching your breath from everything. He slightly put fear in you but you understood his own fear of his mask coming off.

He nodded understanding now, he let your wrist go and picked you up pushing you to the center of the bed and crawled on, never disconnecting you two.

König leaned down lifting his mask up placing his hot mouth on yours, kissing you deeply and slipping his tongue in guiding your own tongue around his. He began moving his hips again at a slow pace softly gaining speed. You wrapped your legs around his waist pushing him in deeper and he broke the kiss to place his head between your neck and shoulder to then wrap his arms around you and got a steady position to start jack hammering in you. The bed began to thump the wall and the sound of moans and wet, warm skin colliding over and over filled the room. König’s hot breath on your neck felt like fire in the best ways possible. You arched your back feeling yourself building your climax.

“Tell me… M-Maus did you fantasize about me.” He asked through thrusts his voice shaky from his movements.

“Yes, I did!” You answered honestly on the brink of tears from how good the pleasure felt. How much you missed this. Missed him.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” He asked biting at your neck.

“No. No I-I knew know one could… oh god, fuck me like you.” You scratched at his back holding on to reality as best as you could.

“Good girl, good Maus.” He panted into your ear.

König places his hands once more on your hips steadying you to thrust in at a better angle.

Looking down for a minute watching your two bodies connect with the wet sloshing sound. His eyes are closed as he tries holding back his own orgasm. He looks up with half lidded eyes from under the mask and you can tell he’s just drunk off the feeling. His thrusts are becoming sloppy and twitchy as his legs are trying to lock in a flexed position.

“Cum for me.” You say softly with whimpers. His eyes roll back and head tilts back but he keeps going.

“I-i-…. I..” he can’t remember what the words are in English so he just shakes his head ‘no’

“Nein, ich möchte es noch nicht. Ich will dich mehr ficken” he grunts out even tho you don’t know any German somehow you knew what he wanted.

Translation: No, I don't want it yet. I want to fuck you more

König slows his thrusts to a soft pace sitting up on his knees more. He grabs you pulling you up to sit on his lap. You hiss at the sharp new angle of his cock piercing you. He reads your expression and lift you up slightly and starts to rut his hips up into you. You throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him in as you arch your back making your chest squeeze against him. König takes his arm and latches it around your waist to help lift you up and down his length like his own personal fuck toy; taking his other hand and placing it in your hair softly tugging not to hard just something to grab.

“Just like that” he breaths out.

“I’m gonna cum” you whimper out feeling yourself leaking slowly on to his lap. König can feel your warm liquid trailing down his balls and lap.

“Cum f’me Maus bitte, bitte please cum, cum bitte” he’s begging to feel you pulse on his hard cock. His words alone are enough to make you orgasm, you cling to him as your body shakes and your walls tighten around him. König can feel every squeeze of your walls milking his hard cock, it takes strength not to cum right away but he’s losing the battle.

König grabs your hips and pushes you all the way down his length to sit at his base. Your orgasm made you make a mess on him and the bed underneath. König felt just how feral that made him as he gripped you tighter and starts filling you with his own cum. You look at him and his eyes are shut tight and his grip on you is so tight you swear you can feel both of your heart beats in your body. You whimper some more feeling him inside twitch and pour stream in you.

“That’s it… that’s it König.. cum for me” he opens his eyes catching his breath, nodding yes.

“That-that felt um, uh…” he smiles and shakes his head laughing slightly “uh great? Good? Very good.” He chuckles you nod laughing a little yourself.

He slowly helps you raise off of him and lay back feeling your legs still weak and shaky. He crawls to your side flopping on the bed still catching his breath. You let your eyes close just soaking in the feeling. You feel him roll over then back onto his back.

“It’s only seven thirty…” he whispers. You look over to him and König has his eyes set on you.

“I have all night.” You state.

“I have until next week Tuesday.” He says teasingly. You giggle at him.

“Are you saying you want to cum again?” You tease rolling to your side taking your hand and placing it on his hot chest.

“And again and again…” he adds with a smirk you can hear on his lips. He’s always been a 2 rounds kind of guy. Rarely a 3 rounder.

“Take what you want.” you whisper trailing your hand down his body König stopping you at his waist.

“You said you wanted to feel me get hard in your mouth…”

— ⋆ ⋆ ¤⋆ ⋆—

a/n: I hope it’s good. Sorry about the ending just fading out I had no idea how to end this. I loved writing about König messing up English lol I hope the text portion wasn’t to confusing. Sorry for any typos again.

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (II)

alexia putellas x sister.

chapter I

~~~~~~

My fingers are dancing on the piano keys, the soft melody leaving my mouth in a quiet hum when Alba walks into my room that night. My mouth closes as the door opens, but my fingers are unstoppable, continuing to abuse the keys as I continue to play the song.

My hands rest on the last keys I pressed when I am done and I think Alba is crying, unless she suddenly has allergies. It is quiet for a few moments before she speaks.

"If you weren't so good at football I would try and convince you to do this forever."

She sighs, standing up and motioning for me to follow her as she laid on my bed. I move beside her, my head now resting on her shoulder.

"I remember when you first played the piano." She smiles, reminiscing on the fond memory. "You were three, you couldn't reach the pedals but you insisted that Papi taught you something. You made us all squish onto the sofa in his office so we could listen to you play and you gave us a very slow and broken version of La Vaca Lechera. It was terrible but Papi was so proud because you had only been playing for a month and could already play with both hands. He picked you up and claimed that you would be the greatest piano player to ever walk the planet. He would be so proud of his pequena superestrella."

"I wish I knew him." They're the only words I can bring myself to say.

"He was a very good man, I miss him a lot. He would have been so proud of Ale with all her football and so proud of you with it too. And your piano. Mami sometimes says to me that you are a mini him."

I realise she is avoiding herself, a habit she got herself into a few years ago, when I followed in Alexia's footsteps by securing my spot in La Masia. She used to be upset, it was unfair. Why had the football gene just skipped her?

"He would be proud of you as well, Alba."

She shrugs, I think she tries to blinks away tears but doesn't succeed because one lands on my head

"I hope so..." she pauses. "It is harder for me to imagine because I am not outstanding at anything like you and Alexia. I am just Alba which is ok but I just don't know what he would be proud of me for."

"There is no such thing as 'just Alba' because you are the best person I know. You don't need to play football for him to be proud of you. Do you realise you are the person we all go to when we need anything? When I am sad, Alba, when I am happy, Alba, when I want to laugh, Alba, when I want to cry, Alba. You are my answer for everything, hermana. That is better than any song on the piano or the biggest trophy there is to be won."

"You are so cute, I love you." She giggles quietly and wraps her arms around me. "Aitana called me earlier and I wanted to come over and make sure you are ok."

"What did she say?"

"Not much, she just asked if everything was ok between you and me and Ale. I didn't tell her the truth, if you were wondering."

"What did you say?"

"I just said that Alexia is struggling with her injuries and that you both are very busy. I don't think she really believed me. Either that or she knows there is something else going on."

I groaned. "She kept giving me looks as we were driving home and it was annoying."

"It's sweet, she's looking out for you." Alba smiles and ruffles my hair. "You are only a little baby to them. 15 is young, pequena!"

"Yeah, well it'd be nice if my own sister did that, wouldn't it." I snap back at her and she recoils slightly.

"You won't let me do anything about it, Elena, so don't get feisty with me! Alexia is complicated and I can't even get anything out of her." She rolls her eyes. Alba is sick of all of the tension. She has been for a while.

"I don't know what to say to her anymore. Does she even know that I was called up?"

"Mami said that she wasn't going to tell her because she wanted her to hear it from you."

"She had no problem telling me when Alexia got a new girlfriend." I'm petty about it, but sometimes I think I deserve to be.

"I cannot believe you still have not met Olga." Alba sighs, flopping back down onto my mattress. "She is very nice, I think you would like her." 

"I am good at getting out of things." I shrug my shoulders and Alba rolls her eyes again. "I don't want to meet her."

"You liked Jenni so much, maybe this could be the same?"

"I still talk to Jenni, on the phone. Maybe we should start an anti- Alexia Putellas club."

Alba groans and sits up, causing me to grunt in annoyance as my head is knocked onto the mattress.

"You know I don't like all of this venom between you two, so please just leave me out of it. I've had enough of you not telling me what the problem is, I am so, so sick of it. You used to be so close that I was jealous of your relationship and now all you do is complain about each other to me." She flops back onto my mattress in frustration.

"You don't understand, Alb, you don't understand what it is like for someone you idolise to practically forget your existence. She used to come to all my games and now she doesn't even know I was called up." She rolls her eyes as I move back to the piano stall, ignoring the way my voice cracked and my eyes sting with tears. 

"Mierda, Elena! How many times do I have to tell you? She has been so busy. I'm sure she has tried to get to them." Even Alba can't explain Alexia's absence. 

"Si, si, you have said that before but you can't understand because she never forgot about you. You didn't used to have an older sister who used to drive you to all of your trainings and games before she decided she was too busy for you and shoved you on the Barcelona busses at the age of 11!" My fingers begin to ghost the keys. Like I said to Aitana, the piano is a good outlet for my emotions. I am glad Mami let me put Papi's old piano into my room. I don't think she is glad when I wake her up in the dark hours of the morning playing loud songs.

"I have an older sister and a younger sister who used to be close and then fell out. I have a father who is dead and a busy mother. We were indestructible, Elena, but look at us now."

My left hand finds a chord and presses down on the four keys, calming my brain down.

"I am sorry that you are hurt by what has happened between Alexia and I, but I am so upset and I don't know what to do."

Alba's eyes softened but I looked down at the keys in front of me, sighing softly as she sat next to me.

"I'm sorry I can't help you more. I don't truly know what happened, but I just want things to go back to the way they were."

"I want that too." A tear found it's way from the back of my eyes but I wiped it away before it had a chance to fall down my cheek.

My fingers picked up another tune, familiarity gracing through my fingertips, the sounds floating around the room. Alba's head rests on my shoulder again and we both tell ourselves it will be ok. Alba likes when I play the piano because if she closes her eyes she can pretend it is our father.

"He was never as good as you are, hermanita."

~~~~~~

The rest of the training week went well. Better than well, but I was mainly just relieved that I wasn't a big disappointment.

The negative of my good performance is that I will be put on the team list. Jonatan pulled me aside after training today and told me I am on it and I thanked him with a smile, hiding my emotions.

I knew my sister was going to find out sooner or later. I'm honestly surprised it has taken her this long, it is not like she has been completely absent from the training grounds. Aitana seems to be the only one who has noticed that me and Alexia have not spoken, but she still has not got anything out of me.

I tell Mami to lock the doors and windows when the team list comes out because I don't want to face Alexia when she inevitably comes over and asks about it. She tells me to stop being ridiculous.

I manage to lock myself in my room when I hear her car coming up the driveway. As soon as she is in the house I climb out the window and walk to the bus stop. I don't want to deal with her tonight. I don't want to deal with her ever, to be honest.

The bus driver smiles at me as I tap on, heading to the back of the bus, no destination in mind. I am happy to just sit there as it drives through my home. My phone is unsurprisingly buzzing of the hook, full of congratulatory messages from friends and family and strangers and fans.

Aitana: *attachment: 1 file* very very proud of you! congrats little lena.

She had screenshotted the team list and put a big heart around my name and I think that might be what started to tears.

But before I knew i could see tears tracking down my face in my reflection as I stared out the window, my mind just wishing that things were normal. Wishing that I was at home celebrating with my family, excited to finally be on the same team as my older sister. I wish I wasn't crying on a bus trying to escape confrontation with my sister who I know will be disappointed that I am on her team.

But this is how it is.

I find myself getting off the bus outside the park near the training grounds, still not sure where I am going. I was considering heading in, practicing my shooting or going to the gym, although I expect they will be closed.

What I don't expect is to hear someone calling out to me.

"Pequena Putellas!" The voice is familiar and I recognise it almost immediately. "What is my little replacement doing out so late in the middle of Barcelona?"

Mapi reached me quickly despite the crutches that she doesn't seem to be relying on too heavily.

"Congratulations, replacement! First team sheet-" she stops when she sees my face. "oh."

"Hola Mapi." I put on a smile but it is a weak effort. "I'm just heading home."

"Si, this is about you and Ale, no?" I look at her curiously and she rolls her eyes. "You don't think I wouldn't have noticed? She is my best friend!"

"And that is why I can't talk to you! I have to go home because they will be looking for me." She rolls her eyes again.

"You are coming over to my house and we are talking about this like grown-ups because you are now a professional athlete. You are not a grown up but you have grown up since I saw you last pequena!" She smiles lightly and uses one arm to pull me into a hug. It is awkward with her crutches. "I have missed you so much." Her words are mumbled quietly into my hair, her arms warming me with comfort and nostalgia. 

Apparently, the new apartment Mapi has moved into with Ingrid is right across the road from the park so we walk back, Mapi getting increasingly frustrated as I become more and more reluctant.

"Maria, please just let me go home?"

She was adamant that she wanted to talk. I just think she wants to know what happened between me and Alexia but I can't tell her. She wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand because everyone would just think I'm being childish and petty. Maybe that's just what I am.

We stand in silence as the elevator takes us up the levels to the apartment.

"Ingrid is not home, she is out with Frido tonight so you do not have to talk to her."

I let out a quiet exhale in relief. Ingrid is nice enough from what I know of her in training but I don't want to have this unwanted conversation in front of anyone else.

Mapi and I used to be close. She was never my favourite but that is mainly because I saw her so often that the novelty of her had worn off quickly and I found myself gravitating away from her at trainings because, like Alexia, she was just always around.

But Mapi loved me like I was her little sister because she never had any of her own. She did a lot for me as a child and tried to pretend that she wasn't offended by my blatant favouritism of other players.

She sat down on the sofa in her living room as soon as she opened the door and I grabbed her crutches that she had thrown on the floor and stood them up against the wall.

"Thankyou, now sit here." She patted the seat beside her and I sat down, my arms crossed. "Do you want to tell me why you were crying alone in the middle of Barcelona, 45 minutes away from home?"

I shook my head.

"Will Mami be mad?" I hate the wobble in my voice.

"No, I texted her and told her you were with me and she said it is ok. She is not mad at you, pequena."

"I don't like being called that anymore." I slumped down in my seat.

"What do you want to be called?" I am surprised that she didn't ask why. I suppose it might be obvious.

"I usually just get called my name." I pause. "Elena."

She smiles lightly, though I can see the water in her eyes.

"I know your name. I know you very well, Lena, I have for a long time but I also know your sister very well and I know that there have been problems for a while now and I know that she is trying her very best to not make it obvious that it is ripping her up and you are doing a very bad job of hiding your sadness. Why did you not tell her you had been called up into the first team?"

I roll my eyes but choose not to respond.

"No, don't roll your eyes at me, peque- Elena. I understand something must have happened but it is big news that you neglected to tell her!"

"What is bigger news? Breaking up with your girlfriend or being called up as a replacement in a football team?"

She hesitated and I continued.

"Getting a new girlfriend or being called up as a replacement? Buying a dog or being called up as a replacement? Being told you are about to win the Ballon d'Or or being called up as a replacement? She told me nothing for so long so don't you dare try and tell me that I should tell her about my life when she does not care to tell me about hers!"

Mapi recoiled and I immediately felt guilty.

"Sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. What else has she done to make you upset?"

"No, Mapi, we're not doing this because you don't need to know about what my sister has done to me. I don't need a psychologist, I just need to grow out of being the pathetic and weak baby Putellas. The younger sister of La Reina who has not had to work hard because her pathway has already been paved and everything has been handed to her on a silver platter." My voice is bored, like I am in front of a class, presenting a boring speech that I have practiced in my bedroom for weeks. 

"Why do you say that? Where is this all coming from?" Her voice raises slightly and her arms wave about as she speaks.

"Because it is true, Maria, why else would things be the way they are? I don't deserve this, it's only been given to me because of my surname." My voice is clearly becoming more urgent and I try to calm myself down. It doesn't work. 

"Where are you getting this from? You need to stop making this stuff up in your head and telling it to yourself because it could not be further from the tr-" Mapi's voice was raised, only slightly, but I could hear the wobble in her voice.

"I am not telling myself this stuff, Alexia did! And Alexia is right, she always has been and she always will be. She is a football geek she knows everything."

Mapi pauses, her mouth opening like a goldfish and her eyes staring straight into mine for any hint of exaggeration or lies. She found none. I have never been a liar.

"She... she said that? To you?" Mapi was surprised. How could her best friend have said something like that to the little girl that meant the world to her? "Alexia said that to you?"

I regret my small outburst immediately; I didn't want to tell Mapi. My fingers begin to get restless, my heart racing, my gum held firmly between my teeth. It is in these moments that I would move to the piano and prepare myself to play a song. My fingers ghost imaginary keys by my side as I take a deep breath, preparing myself to beg and plead; to do whatever I need for Mapi to forget everything I just said. 

"No, you cannot say anything, Maria, this is all a lie, I am dramatic, I am making it all up. Please, just forget I said anything. Please." Tears began to slip out of my eyelids and the expression on my face can only be described as desperation.

"calma, calma. vale. I will forget everything and I will not tell anybody, as long as you don't want me to. But pequenita, it is not true, not true at all and you don't deserve for anybody at all to speak to you like that. You are talented, so talented that I am jealous of you, not your natural talents but your work ethic, Elena, your work ethic is admirable. You are so strong and you have worked for every single opportunity you have been offered and do not ever-" I look away from her.

"Look at me, Elena, look." I look towards her again and notice the water in her eyes.

"Do not ever let anybody tell you otherwise and if you do you call me up immediately and they will get a piece of my mind, si?"

I slump into Mapi's familiar arms and let out a small cry and she just squeezes me harder. I haven't ever told anyone that much of the conversation I had with Alexia - not even Alba - and to hear her best friend attempt to squash any of the worries I had about myself was refreshing. My fingers begin to ghost imaginary piano keys, preparing to begin playing a piece.

"Was this before or after you transferred to La Masia? That is around when she stopped going to your games, no?" Her voice was soft and I felt the need to answer.

"It was during the party that Mami held, when my spot at the academy was accepted. That was the reason why I started crying when I was talking to you. You probably don't even remember that, it was so long ago." I let out a dry chuckle and she rubbed her hand down my back.

"I remember. I remember thinking you were not telling me the truth but I had no idea what was wrong. You have been suffering in silence ever since?"

I don't want to nod my head because it feels dramatic to say that. 

"I told Alba only a little bit of it but nobody else knows. Please, please, please don't tell anybody. Not Mami, not Alexia, not anyone. Please." I looked up at her and she stared at me wordlessly for a few moments before exhaling softly.

"Elena..." She pauses again. "As much as I want to go and give your stupid sister a piece of my mind I will not but on the condition that you talk to Alba or your Mami or me or anyone about it, si? Even Alexia. Maybe she has forgotten. But she misses you, that much I can tell."

I nod, wordlessly making a promise that I know I can not keep. She seems to be satisfied though and changes the topic.

"vale, buena. It is too late to drive you home so you will stay here tonight and Ingrid and I will drive you to Johan tomorrow, si?"

I nod, I do not have a choice.

"Is there a piano in this apartment?"

~~~~~~

Mapi saying she had a piano is an overstatement, it is a keyboard with Norwegian inscriptions that was shoved into the corner of the unused study. Apparently Ingrid does not play the piano but has always wanted to learn.

But, I take the equipment for what it is and sit on the stall, flicking through the different sounds for a while before I find something I like. The office chair behind me squeaks as Mapi sits down but I ignore her presence as I place my fingers on the keyboard.

She would have noticed the release of tension in my shoulders when I sat down. She would have noticed the sigh of relief that I released as my fingers placed themselves on the keyboard.

The song starts out slow. Ludovico Einaudi is one of my favourite composers. His notes sing out from the keyboard speakers and soon they become faster and more intense. Nuvole Bianche is a pretty song, in my opinion, and I like to make up stories as I play it whenever I do. Sometimes I relate to the stories and other times I do not.

But the song builds and builds until a brief pause in the middle in which I hear Mapi sniffling and there is shuffling downstairs. Ingrid must have arrived home. The song picks back up quickly and before I know it the last few chords are ringing out through the room and Mapi has come to stand behind me and is rubbing her hand down my back.

"The last song you played me was un elefante se balanceaba and now you are playing this. You made us sing along and you went all the way to 50, we were in there for a long time. But now you have grown up. You are still so young but you have grown up now I am so proud of you."

I can hear the tears in her eyes so I stand up and pull her into a hug. I feel guilty, she is Alexia's best friend and I accidentally slipped what Alexia said which could potentially drive them apart. But I can't help but feel relieved, I feel comfort which is something I have been looking for for such a long time. Mapi used to be like a sister to me. I don't think I even realised how much I have missed her. 

"That song was so hard!"

She chuckles into the hug and I do too.

Maybe I deserve to feel like this every once in a while.

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed x

chapter III

[thatfreshi]

Out of Love (Astarion x reader)

Tw - death, vomiting, assisted suicide, sickness

Recommended Song: Past Hound - Adam Melchor

A couple of moons ago, you came down with a horrific illness. You and Astarion both don't know why, or how. You suspect foul play. After all, you didn't always make friends on your journeys. You wonder if perhaps you were poisoned, someone slipped something into a drink at the bar, changing the course of your life forever. The first month was like a bad flu, high fever, vomiting almost every day, barely able to eat. Over time though, your body started to ache. Astarion knew it was getting bad when you fell in the kitchen, breaking one of his favorite glasses. At first he was enraged, so angry that you could be so careless with one of his prized posessions. Then, he turned the corner and saw you lying on the floor, and quickly reverted his previous sentiments.

You don't remember exactly how long it's been. About two months in, Astarion told Shadowheart and Halsin to come over, realizing this was not going to go away on its own. They, tried, everything. Shadowheart went into a frenzy, reading up on everything she could, trying spells she had never cast before. Halsin got ahold of every other druid he knew in the city, to no avail. Everyone was clueless. The only thing they could determine is that this illness was man-made.

"So some bastard did try to finally get me, huh?"

You smile a little at your own comment, wincing at the pain it brings you. Astarion glares, not at you, but at the idea that someone would do this to you.

"Not funny my sweet."

It's now been four months. Astarion has tried his best to keep up with all the care you need, but it has turned both of your lives to shambles. Eventually he invited all your old companions over, to stay for a while, as they wanted to help with your illness. Despite the fact that he could barely stay awake at times, he would watch over you for hours on end, sometimes twenty at a time, until someone like Lae'zel dragged him out of your room to go lie down.

Gale has cooked every meal for all of you since you've gotten worse. He tries his best to make things from your childhood, things you'd find comforting. Shadowheart and Halsin continue to research your sickness, finding nothing. Wyll, Karlach, and Lae'zel take turns with Astarion, keeping watch over you, tending to your every need. At this point, you can barely get up most days, either from pain or lack of energy. Despite this, you can't ever sleep. If you do manage to drift off, it's for thirty minutes or so, and then you're jolted awake by some pain.

One day though, you're awoken by Astarion and Halsin arguing.

"I'm telling you Astarion, there is nothing I can do. Tav is going to pass. I don't know how soon, but I would start getting things in order."

He tries to hold back tears, to be good with his bedside manner, but it's almost impossible when Astarion keeps yelling back at him, desperate.

"Tav is not going to die. It's not time yet, you have to do something!"

"Please, Astarion. I don't want to fight with you. I know this is hard to hear, but it's over. There's nothing more we can do. There is no cure."

He tenses, ready to spit some nasty sentence about how he must be some great druid if he can't even heal people, but he refrains, wiping at his eyes. He storms off to his study, as all of your friends watch it unfold.

"I knew he was going to react like that."

Gale says sadly, looking down at the floor.

"I'll go take watch, give him some time."

And with that, Karlach comes into your room. You pretend to be asleep.

After a few agonizing hours, it's evening. Karlach brought you some soup that you couldn't bring yourself to even try eating. As the sun sets, Astarion is in the doorway, a grim look in his eyes. Without saying anything, Karlach takes her leave, giving him an understanding nod that you don't see.

When your lover makes his way to the bed, he lies down next to you, locking eyes with your tired gaze. It's as if you've been beaten twelve times over, the bags under your eyes have gotten so dark.

"Hello my sweet."

He smiles softly, trying to hide the sorrow, trying to shelter you from the news Halsin gave him.

"Hello my love."

You smile back, a little bit of pain and pressure in your face at the attempt.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

You snuggle into his side, trying not to move too much. He meets you halfway.

"I'm just... I'm so tired."

"I know darling... I know."

"No, Astarion. I'm tired of this."

"As am I. Shadowheart and Halsin are working steady as always, they'll find something."

You shake your head, a movement he can feel against his chest.

"No. No I... I heard."

You're exhausted, the air barely leaving your lungs.

"Heard what my dear?"

He's not good at playing dumb, the crack in his voice giving it all away. He hadn't thought about the argument, that you would've heard the two of them yelling about how you're going to die.

"What Halsin... what he told you."

And the tears well in his eyes instantly. He thought he wouldn't have to tell you, that he could keep this sacred thing going, that he could hold you without you needing to know it could all go away so quickly. You hear him sniffle, clearly trying to hold back.

"We don't know it's true Tav, they could still find something. They could be wrong."

His throat is coated in desperation, every word stabbing through your brain, trying to find something in you that believes him, even if he doesn't believe himself.

"They've been at it for months my love. I think it's over."

He grips you a little tighter, wishing for your existence, trying to hold the wind back from the embers of a long-gone flame. You both stay silent for a minute, as you try to work up the courage to ask him something. Something you're not even sure he'll say yes to, but you try.

"I want you to feed on me."

He scoffs, almost angrily.

"No my dear, not while you're sick. You need everything you can get.."

You shake a little, perhaps from the never-ending fever, or maybe from the fear, or the pain.

"No. I mean I want you to feed on me until I'm gone."

He tenses, shocked by your request.

"You... you what?"

You start to tear up, which only brings more pain.

"I'm just so tired Aster, and I've fought for so long. I want it to be over. I'm ready for it to be over, please."

You can barely make it through the end of your sentence without choking up.

"I can't do that, I- I won't!"

He sits up to look at you.

"You can't give up, not like this. There's still time, we still have time."

You reach out for his hand, and he obliges. As you squeeze you fingers into the back of his hand, you ask him one of the hardest questions he's ever had to answer.

"What, so you can watch me continue to suffer?"

He hadn't thought of it, that if this was horrific, how much worse could it get? How long was soon? Even Halsin didn't know how much time, not even an estimate, just... soon. He doubles down.

"No! So that, that maybe you can get better! That we can find the bastard that did this and make him cough up the cure. Maybe we can-"

"Astarion!"

You hadn't yelled for weeks, mustering up everything in your body to overpower his pleading voice. The tears continue to fall down his face, and he leans over, bringing your hand to his face.

"I can't Tav. I can't kill you. You're asking me to destroy the only thing I've ever loved, I-"

The thought of it makes him feel like throwing up, the thought of doing something like that to you. Forever ago he tried feasting on your blood in the middle of the night, long before you fell in love. And when you woke up to a strange man, a monster trying to steal your life force, you were kind. You let him drink from you, and every time he needed to after that.

"I love you so much, and I know you love me so much deeper than I could ever imagine, and I am asking you to do one last thing for me, out of love. I don't want to die to some unknown disease that's been ravaging my body, to pass in my sleep without so much as a thought. I want to die with you, right here, while everyone sleeps, where we can be alone one last time."

It's hard to argue with you, but Astarion feels as though ending your life is hardly an act of love. Mortal lives are already so fleeting, and yet you are asking him to cut it even shorter, to let you go. He meets your eyes again.

"Can I at least go slow?"

"As slow as you'd like."

You weakly smile, and he realizes there is no more considering your offer. This is what you want, and only he can give it to you.

"Okay."

He leans down to kiss you, slowly making his way to your throat, hesitating at first.

"I love you more than you'll ever know."

No pet names, no antics, no fluff. It's the first time you think he's ever said something so serious about how in love with you he is.

"I love you too Astarion."

And it's rare that you ever call each other by your first names. He shivers a little, saying you love 'Astarion' and not 'your sweet' or 'your love.' With your declarations out of the way, he pierces your skin with his fangs, slower than usual. Feeding from you is almost always a rabid act, desperate, feral. He's reserved, savoring every moment, knowing this is it, the last time he'll taste your blood, the last time he'll hold you in his arms, the last time you'll lie in this bed together. When the cold subsides and the numbness takes over, you're at peace for the first time in a long time. All you feel is the slow lapping of your blood, and his grasp tight around you. It feels like forever to you, but moments for him. As the flowing river becomes smaller, the tiniest drops coming out of your neck, he feels your body start to go limp, your skin start to get cold. He fulfills your request despite how much he's hurting, and he drinks until there is nothing left, until you're gone.

A wail echoes through the house, waking up your companions as they rush to see what's happened. As Shadowheart is the first to reach the doorway, she sees Astarion clutching your body, sobbing hysterically. She gets up next to him, clamoring on, asking what happened. He can barely speak, and the rest watch in silence.

"Tav- I- I had to- they wanted me to-"

Guilt-ridden, terrified of what he's done despite you pleading with him minutes ago, Astarion can only stutter the same phrases over and over again.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I- I didn't want to- please."

"Hey, it's okay. Astarion. Astarion?"

Shadowheart notices the blood all over his mouth and the sheets, and the two perfect pin pricks in your neck, realizing what he's done. Astarion looks up for a moment, still clutching your dead body in his hands. And then, he points at Halsin.

"YOU. You fool, Tav heard us, they heard what you said. They gave up because of you. I had to kill them because of you..."

He starts to sob again, losing the rage, overcome with a sorrow that is inexplainable. Halsin only stays silent, knowing these are words of grief and not truth.

"Get out."

Halsin starts to step aside, believing the comment to be about him. When no one else moves, Astarion's eyes dart across the room at everyone, almost manic.

"Get out, all of you. GET OUT."

"Astarion, you can't-"

Gale is cut off by what is such a guttural scream, he can hardly believe it came from the vampire.

"LEAVE."

He comes back to your body, sobbing into flesh that no longer feels.

"Just please leave me alone..."

Shadowheart quietly gets off the bed, ushering everyone out of the room, softly closing the door behind her. Astarion can barely hear the murmurs outside the bedroom door, as he begins muttering to your lifeless corpse.

"I'm so sorry my dear... I'm so sorry. I should've done more, I should've told you to stay, I-"

He can't find the words, relentlessly blaming himself for your choice, wondering if there was any way to get around this. His mind wanders to that first month, when you dropped his wine glass, how he yelled from the other room, how he scolded you for being careless with his things, and he realizes how stupid life is. Nothing matters, a wine glass doesn't matter, you matter. And you were the only thing that ever mattered.

Hours go by, and dusk turns to dawn. Eventually, Gale comes back to the door, knocking softly.

"I'm coming in."

He's met with Astarion still, lying with your body, the blood crusted on the sheets, and his bloodshot eyes. It's as if he barely moved.

"I think... I think it's time."

While Gale wishes that Astarion could stay by your side forever, he knows your corpse will start to change soon, to become worse and worse as the hours pass by. It takes him forever to pry your lover from your side, eventually leading him to the living room, where he lies on the sofa, curled up, as Halsin begins to prepare your body.

[boyfhee]

﹙𝓲ssue﹚ㅤ:ㅤmemoirs of the windㅤ...ㅤ( 제이 )

ㅤㅤ﹙2072﹚ ㅤ장르 angst, bittersweetㅤㅤwarnings drinking, light implications of substance abuse, smoking, break-up, sort of non closure on his partㅤㅤᐢᗜᐢ for @okwonyo's celestial ballet event ! i had sm fun writing this, thank u for hosting the event iNDEX

ib only by lee hi ⋆ there are references to the lyrics in this work

the clock strikes eight, a click of the lighter follows— the flame settles on the wick of the candle, fluttering before resting still like everything else in the apartment. the wind plays its melancholic howls as if music orchestrated for the day. outside, it’s a dance of leaves waving on trees. inside, it’s your birthday, and it’s quiet. 

he sits at the kitchen counter, eyes fixed on the cake. it’s your favourite, cherry vanilla, with little flowers made of red buttercream adding to its appeal. the candle lights up a little over and across the sweet delicacy, albeit nothing compared to the dim lights of his kitchen. he sighs, and wonders, and wonders, and then whispers above the weighing silence. 

“happy birthday,” he says to the ghost of you. perhaps you’re on the couch watching him, or maybe on the stool across from him. in his mind, you’re here. in his heart, on his lips, and when the alcohol wears off for a brief minute— you’re back to sweden. 

“happiest birthday,” he mutters again, eyes never leaving your name on the cake. it’s your first birthday without him. you said you’d spend your birthdays with him but here you are nonetheless. here he is, wondering, waiting, wasting himself over memories from six months ago. over words you probably have never meant, maybe they never weighed enough for you. 

there’s alcohol on the side. you detest it— gosh— shuddering away from the whiff alone. jay thought he would have to give up on drinking if he wanted to keep you. there has never been an ‘if’ actually, for he stopped buying beer and wine, stayed away from drinking even though his friends made fun of him, sometimes. and yet there you were on his instagram feed, smiling, partying with a bottle of Kopparberg in your hand.

‘times change,’ you had said once when he saw you munching on your mint-chocolate ice cream. you had claimed to hate it, and then you were on the couch, saying you had changed your mind and it definitely doesn’t taste like toothpaste. ‘people change, jay,’

that day, he didn’t think much over your words and laughed it off, deciding to have a taste as well. today, however, it’s all hitting him like a wave at the sea during a storm. he wonders what else has changed. do you still like macaroons? do you still wear that bracelet he gifted on your hundred days anniversary? is lee hi still your favourite artist?

he remembers the song— only, it’s also from your favourite album of hers. you played it on repeat sometimes, while cleaning your room or baking. soft hums of its familiar melodies danced off your lips while you did laundry. jay could only ask himself why you like it so much, until he actually asked you one day, arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. 

‘it’s cute and romantic,’ you had responded while folding your clothes, the slight fragrance of your detergent spinning in the air. ‘it sounds like love,’ 

that was like you, to associate and define things as love. his kisses tasted like love, touch felt like love, voice resonated with love— sometimes, he’d stop and shake his head at your words with a silly smile. how could you see love in everything around, in things as ugly as shame, and pretty as stars? he remembers meeting you and you described the feeling as love. 

you came in like a spring wind. first day, first interaction, and he was floored. 

jay doesn’t know much about love. he isn’t the one to ponder about it and put it in words. love, to him, is the feeling, happy or sad. to him, it’s in longing and yearning, yet also in letting go. you were his first girlfriend, and his hands were shaking when he felt like he had the entire world on his palms. he would stutter and stumble and you would lend him a hand. that’s love to him. when his patience ran thin and he ended up saying words he didn’t mean, when arguments left you with silence weaving itself in between, you would hold him and promise to stay together, and he says he’ll do better. that’s love to him. 

love, to jay, was when he came home in a hurry to your long texts— your bags laid out with clothes inside, and he let your hand slip out of his fingers. 

‘can you explain yourself?’ he had asked, anxious and frantic, going crazy behind his eyes. his heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he pulled you aside, holding your hands ever so dearly and in fear. 

‘there’s nothing to explain. i told you everything over text,’ and that’s all you had said before going back to packing your stuff. jay saw your flight tickets on the bedside table and realised there was a lot you didn’t tell him about— and you’re still a mystery to him.

‘did i do something wrong?’ 

‘did i push you away?’

‘am i not good enough?’

all these questions spun in the room, and you had taken his hand ever so tenderly, planting a soft, gentle kiss, looking at him in the eyes with pain— love. you had told him so inexplicably how happy you were and how much the time you two spent meant to you. you had told him how lovely he was and how all your rainy nights and lonely days felt like you were being coloured in his shiny light because he was with you. 

you told him, he believed, and you let go of his hands with a bittersweet smile before walking back to your closet. 

‘did you fall out of love?’ silence. 

‘are you tired of me?’ and silence. 

he still thinks about those questions he asked, even now as he’s sitting in front of your supposed birthday cake. you never responded, but your silence told more than words could ever recite. he wishes you had answered him, though. it would’ve been easier for him to move on, even though he has always known what your answer would be. sometimes, he wishes for you to come back running, half because he wants to close the door on you and hurt you the same way you hurt him, and half because he wants to hold you in his arms and pour out all the love he has for you. his fingers hover above the like button of your posts. he wonders if he should comment or maybe send you a direct message. he wants to pull you back, but you look so happy without him— and who was he ever to take away your happiness? so he just scrolls past, liking other posts and reels, and hangs in there drowning in thoughts of you until you post again— and the ugly cycle continues. 

jay notices the candle melting and puts it away on the kitchen counter, not wanting the wax to poison the cake if it ever could. he grabs a can of beer from the fridge, downs it, and then grabs another, then another, and another, to the point his vision is blurring. he tries to light a cigarette but the lighter doesn’t work. he takes off his cardigan and throws it around in attempt to make a mess. he wants you to see him— pitiful and in pain, and he wants you to stop him like you always had.

he tunes in the recorder, listening to a few of the songs that you enjoyed. he never bothered changing it. and he drinks yet another can of beer, looking around and out of the window, looking at the unattended cake and the melted wax on the table. oh how you would scrape it out with your nails. 

“do you think about me?” he asks into the empty. the question gnaws at him from the inside, along with a thousand others. he waits, and waits, hoping for a response, knowing it’s useless, hopeless. “sometimes, i think about you every minute,”

he tries to think of how you’d respond to those words— with a laugh, maybe. maybe, you’d tell him you think of him too, he can only guess, he can only imagine. he imagines you walking up to him and leaning down for a kiss. you’d whisper something sweet in your enchanting voice and then kiss him again, this time getting onto his lap, your lips pulling him in a way he can’t help but wrap his arms around you. and just when it would be getting better— you’d pull away. 

‘i don’t like dancing,’ you had mentioned once, as he suddenly remembers via the alcohol taking him down the memory lane, when he asked you for a dance at the freshers party. he didn’t even know you then, not more than the fact that you were the most beautiful person he had seen that night.

and then a year later, you were in his apartment, arms over his shoulders, his hands on your waist. you gave him this sweet smile and made him inch closer for a kiss, all while waltzing to your favourite song. you said you didn’t mind dancing if it was him, only him. because he was the only one. 

and jay huffs at the memory, a bit frustrated. it was a lie, a pure white lie. you didn’t mind sharing dance with a few of your friends. he knew it was childish of him to be upset at this, but he’s annoyed nonetheless. you’ve told him lies, about love, about him, about yourself; to the point he believed they were the truth. like when you said he didn’t have a talent for music so he should take engineering instead so that you two could stay together. and when you said everything would be fine now that he was in love with you— a whole lot of lies. he grips the can tightly at the memory, pressing his fingers into the metal. and then your song comes on. 

jay just stares at the recorder for a few seconds. he pictures you walking up to him from the living room with a smile on your face, asking him for a dance and he’d agree— as he does, standing up from the stool except this time, he’s holding a beer can instead of your hand. every step he takes reminds him of the little dance you two performed together. he closes his eyes occasionally, taking in the lyrics, the chorus that you like so much. he let his mind trace over every single memory of yours he has preserved in his mind. how quickly you made him fall for you and how swiftly you left. 

like a wind blowing past the curtains into his living room, you came into his life, and entranced him in your presence. you had asked him to make room for you in his heart and he gave you your entire self and soul. being with you was an adventure, like walking into a storm. he had to share his love and you’ll never let go. now, he starts picturing you in his arms while waltzing down the kitchen all alone, reliving the feeling of your body pressed close to him.

he lets his feet guide him around his apartment, down to the living room, bumping into the couch slightly but he doesn’t stop. it’s like the first dance he shared with you, magical, as you had him lost in yourself completely. all the walks together with you, hands intertwined together, it all plays in his head like a movie. and jay never understood the song like you did, but he can walk on the world stage and thump his chest to claim you’re the only one— but it wouldn’t mean a damn thing since he’s not yours in return. 

he takes a sip of beer, humming to the melody of the song as he waltzes on his own, walking down to the balcony. you were his muse, and his notepad is full of songs he wrote about you, and he— jay lets out a chuckle— a passerby. you came in like a wind, calling him your only one amongst the other people you had pulled in your whirl all along, and he leans against the railing, taking last sips of beer from his can.

a wind flows by— and you’re gone. 

[goldsainz]

THEY BROKE UP? — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: i’m a sucker for angst😁 i don’t know why i felt so inspired, i have never been in a relationship. or what drove me to write that article, which i didn’t spend as much time on as you would think, i guess i was inspired. please enjoy this, happy danny ric grand prix (not anymore😐)!!! this is my longest social media piece to date (templates by @mybodywakesup)

liked by tchalamet, jennaortega and 2,047,159 others

yourusername my EP “FWD” is out in all streaming platforms! this EP comes from a very deep, personal and heartfelt place. many nights of non-stop writing led to me putting out 4 songs i never would’ve released months ago. thank you for giving me time to come back as the best version of myself.

view all 30,707 comments

selenagomez I am so happy you released this! The world needs to see all of your talent shine ❤️

⤷ yourusername thank you for being there sel 🫶

ynfan1 I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR HOW HEARTBREAKING THIS WOULD BE

ynfan2 oh so we’re back to making us cry

dannielfan1 things i wish you said is so about daniel

user1 after 9 months of no content she just puts out four songs?

⤷ ynfan3 please read her newest vogue article before commenting things like this

alexademie i’m in love with you?

⤷ yourusername i’m in love with you too?

ynfan3 LONESOME BEST SONG!!!!!

When I got the call that Y/N Y/L/N wanted to do the article with Vogue, and that I was appointed as the writer I remember thinking ‘What will I say?’. There isn’t much to prepare you when a celebrity like her decides she wants you in her home, opening up about her hardships with you there to listen and write it all down. But, alas, I put my nerves beside me and took all of the questions the world wanted answers to, to the only woman who could answer them. 

Her house in the English countryside is just as perfect as you would expect. With dark mahogany floors, potted plants everywhere and white walls that are filled with different memories she framed, Y/L/N’s home is made for those who love the feeling of being at home. It brims with a cosy feeling, from the rugs she picked which bring an unexpected, yet welcome, warmth, to the open space that shows off her beautiful backyard. Y/L/N’s house is nothing short of exceptional. If each room were to speak to me they would all rave about how comfortable they feel, how there is no other that feel like a ‘home’ quite like theirs.

The moment I arrived at her front door, she was the one to open the door and greet me with a hug. There was no one but us at her house, nothing but the comfortable silence and the occasional chirping of a bird. Her outfit was casual, with some Stella McCartney jeans, a Prada silk blouse which she wears with the top 3 buttons open, and a pair of Hermes sandals, it all made her look relaxed whilst still looking polished. She offered me a single-couch to sit down on, offering me different options of beverages she proudly concocted. I opted for a refreshing blueberry lemonade, while she had an already drunk, half-full glass of orange juice. 

After what seemed like forever without her presence on red carpets, premieres or her famous F1 paddock appearances, Y/N Y/L/N created an enjoyable life for herself. She admits that even though there have been many hardships, she has pushed through them as best as she can. “Sometimes you just have to take a break, take a moment to look around and wonder what you really need.” She expresses, “This life isn't for everyone. I am very happy with how things turned out for me, and there is not one day I regret what I’ve done. But, there are moments in which things get out of control and space is needed.”

On the outside, Y/L/N has always appeared to the masses as someone who never falters in her step. From her modelling debut when she was freshly 18 years old, turning herself into the face of Prada back in 2012 when the whole world wondered ‘Just who is this girl?’. It wasn't long before she delved into the acting world, with her first role in 2014 for the critically acclaimed film ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ as ‘Agatha’. Everyone loved her, wondering what her next move would be, so the whole world was shaken when just a year later she released an album. ‘Honeymoon’ took the world by a storm, with emotional lyrics that only added to the mystery of who she was, Pitchfork said “It's an album about love, but "love", as Y/L/N sings it, sounds like mourning. The romance here is closer to addiction—something that's sought for its ability to blot out the rest of life's miseries…”. Nobody knows who drove her to write this, but the speculations never stopped, not to this day. On the inside, however, she struggled to know who she really was.

She talks about not having the right skills to cope with the sudden fame, how overwhelming it all would really be. Still, she never stopped putting out new content for her fans. Nobody could forget the girl who despite all the luxury that surrounded her, uploaded vlogs to youtube about her life. No one could take away her raw authenticity.

Maybe that is why when in May of 2022 her posts on Instagram, Twitter and Youtube came to a sudden halt, fans wondered what happened to her. What made Y/N Y/L/N drop from the face of the earth? Why did she stop appearing everywhere? 

The talk never ceased, the world could not let go of the woman they had grown up with and learned to love over a decade ago. “It was weird seeing all those rumours while I battled to know who I was. I tried as hard as I could to drown it all out, so I uninstalled every single social media app I had. I ended my connection with the world to reconnect with myself.” She says. “It was hard, but it was truly what I had wanted for a while.”

Since she appeared in the spotlight, her relationships or lack of, has been questioned. “I watched my female peers struggle to get away from their love lives, how every interviewer didn't care for the projects they were in, but rather who they were with at the time.” She recalls. “I was in a relationship with who I thought was the love of my life, for almost 7 years. It is rather jarring coming to terms that sometimes people grow, and that you are the one that needs out of a relationship which is nothing short of special. My concept of love was tarnished by a guy who was older than me, and another guy who was just as immature as I was. So naturally, I was swept off my feet when suddenly, all I ever knew wasn't how I thought it was.” 

Even now, after the heartbreaking experience she went through, Y/L/N only has kind words to say about the man she loved. “He is a true gentleman, he knew me like no one else did. I guess, along the way, I stopped knowing myself. That was the problem.” She says. “How can someone else know me when I don't even know myself? I asked myself that a lot. I like to think I know myself better now, I learned how to love every part of me, and that was the most rewarding journey. It wasn’t his fault, but I couldn't love someone else without loving me first.”

Self Love is a very important part of her life now. She puts her well-being over her need to succeed, something that made her iconic, was destroying her slowly. “Being an ‘icon’ to many stuck me in a box. There was an underlying feeling of having to always outperform others and myself, it was exhausting and that was how I started losing sight of myself.”

When talking about her future projects, Y/L/N expressed that she was “taking her time”. No more would she be walked over and feel pressured to put out new content, opting for a more relaxed and controlled lifestyle. Though she once was everywhere everyday, she now hopes to be mentioned when she does something valuable and not when she is merely existing. 

“I do have an EP coming out. It is just four songs, but I wrote them alone, and they are my most special songs to date.” She says. “One thing I do not want happening is for people I care for to be harassed or accused of things they are not responsible for. Music is a creative outlet for me, it is never made with the intention to hurt anyone.” She adds. “‘things i wish you said’ is my favourite. It’s the first one I wrote after my breakup, which makes it the rawest out of all of them. I think that's why I like it so much, the other three were written in different periods of my life, some even years ago. It will be fun seeing everyone dissect them.”

She decided to keep the EP to just four songs because all the others were too personal or she decided to keep them for another time. “I’m sure the world would love to know all the nooks and crannies of my past relationship, but that is something I would like to keep between him and me. I am ready to move on from all the pain, to leave it all in the past. If people want to remain stuck there, that is their own choice, I choose to be free and continue growing.”

Y/L/N’s journey is far from finished. She has not even turned 30 yet, but she redirects her narrative because it just does not fit her anymore. She is not that young 18 year-old girl who knows nothing, but rather a 28 year-old woman “ready to move on” as she puts it. 

At that point in our conversation, her previously relaxed demeanour has only grown. With her legs tucked on the black leather couch she has in her wide living room, an arm resting on a deep magenta pillow, she is in her own space. Y/L/N smiles and pays attention to every question I ask, she has no qualms in sharing. Though she sometimes opted to give no comment about certain situations, not once did she feel offended or made me feel out of place. 

As our conversation came to an end, she gave me one final piece of advice: “Only you can decide what's best for you. Once you learn how to manage other people’s opinions, there is nothing that can truly stop you from being uniquely you. Love yourself, you have one life, why live it in misery?”

liked by ynfan21, danielfan21 and 103,859 others

yndanielenthusiast i will never forget when they both posted the same picture to hard launch their relationship

view all 1,558 comments

ynfan22 what if this was my 13th reason?

ynfan23 we all remember where we were when this dropped

⤷ danielfan22 i woke from a nap, checked instagram and screamed so loud my parents thought someone died

⤷ ynfan23 so real

user21 missing them hours

ynfan24 nothing could’ve prepared for y/n confirming their breakup. nothing.

danielfan23 I NEED THEM BACK

⤷ ynfan25 THOSE TWO WERE LITERALLY MY PARENTS

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 462,071 others

danielricciardo Don’t leave me hangin 🙃

view all 6,931 comments

ynfan31 y/n liking this😭

danielfan31 IM SO HAPPY HES HAPPY WITH RBR

ynfan32 say what you want abt y/n (don’t) but she’s handling the situation very maturely

danielfan32 he’s smiling while we’re all in shambles smh

⤷ danielfan33 right???

user31 I need him back on track asap

user32 am i delusional to think the caption means something else or…

⤷ ynfan33 yes.

⤷ danielfan34 yes.

liked by danielricciardo, taylorswift and 1,925,836 others

yourusername many things to come 🥂

view all 28,887 comments

ynfan41 istg if she says an album is coming

⤷ ynfan42 it would be crazy but i don’t think so

zendaya cheers to that!

liked by yourusername

user41 her smile &lt;3

danielfan41 ariana what r u doing here🤨

taylorswift 🍾🍾🍾

⤷ ynfan43 I’M SCARED WHAT’S GOING ON

ynfan44 she has something cooking and i am not prepared

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddiemicrofic March challenge.

Five, Nine, Nine, Two

March Prompt: Pin | Word Count: 388 | Rating: G | CW: None | Tags: Established Relationship, Banter, Long-Term Relationship, Older Steddie, Still Together, But Still Pushing Each Other's Buttons

"What do you mean you don't remember your PIN? You created it!" Steve yells, and Eddie just keeps moving in front of the computer. Pacing. Fretting. Worrying his hands. 

"First off, I didn't pick it. They just gave it to me and I'm expected to remember it? It's, like, eight letters. Maybe some numbers. I don't know. I'm too old for this," Eddie rambles, staring at the computer screen. Like he can will it back to the forefront of his memory.

He doesn't remember. Can't. It's just gone, vaporized.

"You didn't write it down?" Steve snaps, digging around the cluttered desk, scattering a handful of crumpled Post-Its across the keyboard. "None of these are it?!"

"You told me to stop doing that, so I did!" Eddie argues back. Because Steve had forced him to stop writing down his passwords and PINs months ago, and now, well, this is what they have to show for it.

Eddie hums under his breath, trying to remember if he made up a little song about it or not. He does that sometimes. It helps.

"Stop singing under your breath and think!" Steve snaps, and Eddie waves his hands around his head, trying to get Steve to be quiet so he can concentrate.

"I am thinking!" Eddie yells, and then starts mumbling, singing under his breath, "Pineapple peach, dog frog, five-"

"Nine, nine, two…" Steve sings along with him, clearly annoyed, drawing out that two like it has seventeen letters instead of three. "You sang that stupid nonsense song all last week. I don't want it stuck in my head again, stop it!"

Eddie stops. Looks at Steve, "That's my password."

He taps the keyboard slowly, one hunt-and-pecked key at a time: PPDF5992.

And sure enough, they're in.

Steve kisses Eddie on the side of the head, then sits down, guiding the mouse cursor to the little applications message box that's lit up in the corner, indicating there's a response waiting.

"It's there," Steve says, mouse still hovering.

"Well, click it!" Eddie demands, putting both his hands on Steve's shoulders, squeezing, urging him on.

Steve clicks it.

Accepted.

Eddie shakes Steve's shoulders in excitement. They passed the home visit. The shelter is giving them a cat. And not just any cat, the most perfect cat Eddie has ever seen in his whole life.

I don't know why this was the first thing that came to mind, but it's definitely inspired by Marshall from How I Met Your Mother and his singing nonsense to remember his bar exam password.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemicrofic and follow along with the fun! ❤️