#I would throw that plate in his fucking face play with me

[hellishvxbes]

People will judge a reaction and not the reason for the reaction. Plain and simple if you can’t handle the clapback, maybe don’t fucking clap.

[caelivir]

“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

[0097linersb]

Sour Candy (m)

Pairings: Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5k~

Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3

Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon. 

“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?” 

“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.” 

“That´s just because you´re bad at it.” 

“You´re literally worse than me.” 

“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.” 

“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.” 

“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?” 

“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.  

Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you. 

While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.” 

You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face. 

“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside. 

Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.” 

You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t. 

“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste. 

“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.  

“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.” 

“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.” 

“I will literally kill myself.” 

He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.  

“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.” 

“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game. 

“My point stands.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“You´re very eloquent today.” 

“You´re very annoying today.” 

“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!” 

“I´m getting it!” 

“Bro, you gotta throw it!” 

“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.” 

“I´m throwing you more rice.” 

“I don´t need it.” 

“Yes, you do. Oh my god.” 

“What I do need are some clean plates.” 

“Oh, yeah. On it.” 

“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.” 

“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”  

“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.” 

“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.” 

“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.” 

“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?” 

“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy. 

“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.” 

“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.” 

And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact. 

Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.  

“Huh...” 

“What?” He asked. 

“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.” 

“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you. 

“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.” 

“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?” 

“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?” 

“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.” 

“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.” 

“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?” 

He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns. 

“Wait, let me call Yunho.” 

Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.  

“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears. 

“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.” 

“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-” 

“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?” 

“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.” 

“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.” 

“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.” 

“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious. 

“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“So I guess these do work, huh?” 

“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?” 

“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.” 

“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.” 

“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?” 

“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.” 

As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes. 

“I have good news and bad news.” 

“Am I going to die?” 

“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.” 

“And what are the bad news?” 

“Apparently you will get very horny, though.” 

He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.” 

“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.” 

“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?” 

Once again, over-dramatic but right.  

“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?” 

“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed. 

“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.” 

“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.” 

“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.” 

You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well. 

10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure. 

“Yeah!” Was his answer. 

Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text. 

Not dead yet? 

Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work. 

Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.  

Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole. 

You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.  

You sat up in bed worried. 

You good? 

No answer. 

Mingi? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.  

No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family? 

Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love- 

Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes. 

“Mingi?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?” 

“Huh, can I come in?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.  

Something sounded weird about this.  

“Sure,” You answered skeptically.  

Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes. 

“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?” 

“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.  

“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.  

“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.” 

“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.” 

“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you. 

“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -” 

“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides. 

You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now. 

“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate. 

“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore. 

“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you. 

“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do. 

“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?” 

His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move. 

Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.  

“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-” 

“Just the tip?” 

“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt. 

“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.  

“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.” 

“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was. 

He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you. 

“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.  

And oh fuck. 

His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew? 

Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.  

Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself. 

You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.  

And you only had one. 

“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.” 

His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.  

“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.” 

“Mingi.” 

“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you. 

Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.  

“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra. 

He was far gone. 

And kind of so were you. 

You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.” 

It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it. 

The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality. 

“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”  

You loved how broken his voice sounded. 

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” 

He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.” 

“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing. 

“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.” 

You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.  

His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.  

You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-  

Wow. 

Wait. 

Now where did that come from? 

“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.” 

You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else. 

Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried. 

You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.  

Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-” 

“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself. 

He was still hard? 

Wasn´t this like his third time already? 

His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.” 

“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for. 

“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy. 

“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.” 

“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.” 

You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore. 

Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.  

“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.” 

And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek. 

You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.  

“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.  

“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.” 

Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before. 

His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again. 

“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little. 

“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.” 

You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible? 

A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?” 

 He had the nerve to pout. 

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: Tara thought out of all people she hates you the most, until she met her… and why the fuck does she follow every where you go?!

tags: enemies to lovers, flirting, drunk at party, y/n is an idiot, new girl, tara is jealous

word count: 2.2k

Late again but enjoy! Sorry for mistakes i´ll correct them later.

„Help me!“ you yelled into your mic as you gripped the console tightly.

„What? I can´t even see you!“

„You idiot I´m on the fucking ground right behind you!“ 

That was the routine for these past days, you and Ethan were playing, and something some of your or his friends joined to play with you. You were sure you lost a lot of nerves but it was also something you couldn´t say no to.

„Oh sorry!“ you heard Ethan as you watched as his character turned around and crunching beside you to pick you up. Not even a second after you saw another player appear right behind him.

„Ethan!“

„What?“

„Turn around! Right behind you!“

„What?“

Just then the player started to shoot him from behind making him yell and run away from you leaving you right where you were. You tried to crawl as fast as you could behind something to cover you but it was for no use. Then you saw Ethan´s character fall on the ground in the same position as you were now making the enemy kill you both. You slammed your hand on the table almost breaking it.

„You idiot! Why did you leave me there? I was almost up!“

„He was shooting me from behind! What was I supposed to do?!“

„Argh! We lost our streak because of you!“

„Me?! You were the one that was on the ground! I was trying to help!“

It was like this almost every game. Just the both of you screaming at each other throwing the blame on one another. But at the end of the day, you say happy goodbye like nothing happened. The loud banging on the wall from the other side was like a message for you to stop and go to sleep.

-

You were sitting in the back of the class with sweaty palms and your knees up and down. The heart inside your chest kept racing and you were sure your beat rate was at its maximum.

„Could you stop already? You are making this much worse than it is!“ Tara hissed at you from beside you with clenched teeth. You were so nervous. It was the day of your presentation when everyone from the class went in front of the board and presented their topic.

You always hated this kind of stuff and you aren´t ashamed of telling the truth. You may seem confident or nonchalant most of the time but this was something that was hard to change.

„Sorry.“ You whispered as you put your hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. Tara´s eyes softened a little as she looked at your side profile. You were trying too hard to stay calm using every technique that came to your mind like deep breathing or trying to remember something funny or the fact that this was something everyone was going through and you are not alone.

Not long after you got it done and positive to say your professor was also happy about your work giving you marks belonging to the work done.

„I´m so glad we´ve after it.“ Chad breathed out air from his lungs. You were sitting in a cafeteria with your friends.

„Exactly! I was so nervous about it and that´s not even in my element!“ Mindy said as she picked up the croissant from her plate to her mouth.

„I´m sure you weren´t nervous as Y/N.“ Tara said with a smirk on her lips. You turned your face to her being a little offended by her words.

„I was not that nervous!“ you yelled at her as if you were trying to convince them. Or maybe yourself.

„You were like I thought you would pee yourself in any second.“ She added turning away from you to eat her food. You stomped on her foot hard making her yell in pain.

„Y/N!“ Mindy scolded you.

„You fucker!“ the young Carpenter turned to you with a mad expression ready to kill you. Oh, how much that calmed you down. You smiled at her which quickly fell into a pain expression as she kicked you right below your knee with all her strength.

You crunched into the table laying your forehead on it in pain. „You little rat I hate you so fucking much.“ You whispered with your eyes almost closed and your knees in both of your hands.

Just when you wanted to say something more you heard someone saying your name. With a confused expression, you turned to the side seeing the girl from the shop.

She was walking with a group of friends which kept walking as she stopped to talk to you.

„Hey, how are you?“ she asked with a gentle voice looking into your eyes. Not long after you met at the shop you got the message that someone wanted to follow you on your Instagram. You didn´t want to know how she found you, not like it was important either. You just didn´t expect that.

„Oh hi.“ You looked up at her from your spot. You could tell your friend were looking at the both of you with different expressions on their faces. Everyone was surprised at the interaction, only Ethan looked like he wasn´t. „I´m good, how are you?“

Chad cracked a little biting his lower lip at you. You´ve never talked to them with that sweet voice you were using now.

„I´m great! Sorry I didn´t wanna bother you I just wanted to say hi.“ She quickly explained herself feeling guilty for ruining the fun you had with your friends.

„Oh no, don´t worry, really. It´s all right.“ You smiled at her noticing that her friends stopped a couple of feet away from you looking at her with smiles and giggles. „Your friends are waiting for you. Not like I want you to go away! No! I mean you can stay as long as you want you know-“

She giggled at you as you were trying to explain yourself. „It´s fine Y/N like I said, I just wanted to stop by. I hope you have a good day.“ She then turned around and speed-walked to her friends.

Your eyes were still on her looking at her fading body into distance. Just then you were cut by a loud laughing. You rolled your eyes knowing exactly who it was.

Almost all of your friends were holding their stomachs from the laugh. Chad pressed his hands together and brought them up into his chest looking up in a dreamy way. „Oh, you can stay as long as you want! Please don´t go away!“ he said in a high high-pitched voice trying to make fun of you.

Your jaw tensed at him as you were growing more angry with each second. „I don´t  sound like that!“

„But you did!“ they laughed. „I´ve never heard that voice Y/N oh my you must like this girl!“

The vein on your forehead started to form as you stared at your friends in anger. „I don't like her!“

Ethan was quietly sitting beside you looking at you. „I like her for you.“ He said softly. That made everyone silent looking at him.

„And since when do you know her?“ Mindy asked him.

„Oh I and Y/N already talked about her, right buddy?“ he said not meaning to be a tease. Chad only laughed harder making you even more mad. Ethan quickly looked at him and at you again. „Sorry Y/N! I didn´t want to make you mad.“

„It´s fine Ethan.“

„Oh but I´m a little offended how come Ethan knows already about her but we do not?“

You just breathed out and shook your head at them not having any more energy. You just picked up your food slowly taking a bite.

Tara was quiet like she was trying to process what just happened. What the fuck did that girl see in you? It was more than obvious that she liked you or at least that she was interested. You were annoying and stupid, you were always playing games and never studying. Why would she even stumble across you?

She looked at your calm expression and at the little red on your cheeks. That only made her more angry.

-

It was Friday and you were currently at someone´s birthday party. You got yourself a little more drunk than usual but that doesn´t mean you don´t know where the drinking barrier is. You danced and drank and laughed you were happy enjoying yourself with your friends.

You and Chad were competing who would drink more shots which was stopped by Mindy. You danced with Ethan who was a lot more loose than he normally is. You knew tomorrow you would probably hate yourself and Chad too but that was the problem of future Y/N.

You went into the kitchen trying to find something more to drink. Luckily for you, no one was in there at that time. You were opening cabinet after cabinet when you came by some luxurious-looking alcohol and champagne.

You wanted to grab one which was hidden behind only for you to stumble yourself from the chair making you fall on the ground.

There was a loud sound of the glass breaking and your body falling onto the ground. „Ouch.“ you let out softly.

„What the hell are you doing?“ Tara ran to your drunk ass laying on the ground trying to get up.

„Uhm I fell.“

„I can see you imbecile I asked what the fuck were you doing? Come on get up.“ She tried to get you up by your hands but saw that you were cut on your right arm. You were bleeding and you didn´t even notice that. Just when you saw Tara´s face you saw in what state was your arm.

„Oh my God Y/N! You´ve got glass in your hand I can see that!“

„Oh yeah? I can feel that!“

 It was a pretty deep cut but nothing serious. Tara quickly ran to the sink and grabbed some tissues with scissors and alcohol.

„What the hell are you doing?“ you were crawling away from her fearing what that girl had in mind.

„I wanna help you stop running away!“ she was trying to get to you. Tara grabbed you by your good arm. „Stop moving you idiot!“

„I don´t wanna die!“ you cried as you were moving around like some insect. If someone walked into the room and saw the scene they would probably think that she is trying to kill you.

„Stop yelling!“ she put the bottle of alcohol beside you after getting it on the tissue softly cleaning your wound. You hissed at the feeling but didn´t move. Tara was taking the glass away crunching on the floor beside you.

She looked up at your face only for her to see that you were now drinking the alcohol she bought to clean your wound.

„Y/N! What the fuck!“ Tara yelled grabbing the bottle and pulling it away from your mouth. „Are you out of your fucking mind?“

You giggled gently at her drunk. She was looking at you as if you were serious. She couldn´t help but crack a little at your behavior. You were an idiot.

After your giggles, you were just quietly sitting there looking at the girl in front of you.

„Your right dimple is deeper than the left one.“

Tara´s breathing stopped for a moment. Suddenly her vision was worse and her heart fell into her stomach.

„What did you say?“ she asked gently with her soft big eyes looking at yours.

„Everytime you smile your right dimple is more visible.“

Tara´s eyes widen at your words looking down at you. She didn´t know how much time had passed since you were sitting there but to young Carpenter, it was like a second. A second before someone stepped into the kitchen breaking off the tension that was created in the room.

„Oh my God Y/N! What happened?“

It was the girl again. She ran in your direction trying to find out what happened. Tara´s nerves were on top all of a sudden.

„I´m fine don´t worry.“ You somehow said with your eyes barely open. You slowly stood up with her help making her hold tight onto your arm.

„I´m taking you to mine you can´t go home all by yourself like this!“

Tara looked at the girl with a sparky smile. „Don´t worry about that Y/N and I live beside each other I’ll take  care of that.“

The girl looked at Tara and her face dropped. It was clear that she wasn´t a fan of her but that didn´t matter to her.

„Okay, I see.“ She looked up at you talking your cheeks in her hands making you look at her. „Take care, I´ll text you tomorrow.“ She then got on her tippy toes and kissed your cheek. Tara´s hands formed into fists and her jaw tensed. After that, she walked away leaving you both alone, not before looking at both of you one last time. Tara brushed the skin on your face right where that girl kissed you and took your hand into her and started to walk away from the party.

Yeah, like hell she will text you.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 16

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15

Aside from bathroom breaks, Eddie doesn’t leave his room for two days. Friday bleeds into Saturday, bleeds into Sunday, and Eddie wallows in it. Wayne knows him well enough to not bother him, but Wayne also knows him well enough to barge into Eddie’s room Sunday morning without even knocking.

“Up, boy,” he says gruffly, turning Eddie’s overhead light on. “Your eggs are getting cold.”

Eddie groans, and tries to roll over to bury his face back into his pillow, but Wayne grabs him by the ankle and yanks until he goes tumbling out of the bed.

“Wayne!”

“I ain’t asking,” Wayne says, storming out of Eddie’s room without closing the door.

As is his right, Eddie whines and rolls around on his floor for a minute until he can finally find the will to get up. Clearly knowing that it would take Eddie a minute, Wayne’s just plating eggs and potatoes as Eddie walks into the kitchen, still clothed in only his boxers and the same shirt he’d been wearing when Carver’d kicked his ass on Thursday.

They settle across from each other at their dingy table, Wayne letting him get a few bites of breakfast in him before the interrogation he knows is coming begins.

“What happened?” Wayne asks, pushing his own plate away so he can focus on staring Eddie down.

Eddie swallows his bite of potatoes, throat suddenly dry. But, he wants to tell someone, he wants to tell Wayne, who, no matter how Eddie fucks up, is always in his corner.

“I’ve been getting these letters,” Eddie starts, using his fork to play with his food so he doesn’t have to meet his Uncle’s eyes as the whole sordid tale comes out.

He tells it like he experienced it: thinking it was a joke at first before getting wrapped up in the letters, finding out it was Chrissy, trying to connect the living, breathing girl to the words on the page.

And then, Harrington, strong and sure as he defended him from Carver, taking care of his wounds in the aftermath, lying to him for months until he couldn't get away with it anymore.

Wayne just listens without interruption while Eddie talks about Jeff’s betrayal, the fear in Chrissy’s eyes, the defeated slope of Harrington’s back as he’d walked out the door, going god knows where with his car still at the quarry where he’d left it.

When Eddie’s finally done, Wayne hums and pulls his now-cold food back in front of him, picks up his fork and starts to eat. Eddie watches him, gobsmacked.

“Wayne?” Eddie asks, moving his hand up and down in front of his Uncle’s eyes, checking to see if the old man can even still see him. “That’s all you’re going to say? Hmm, and then back to breakfast?”

Eddie scowls as he forks another potato into his mouth, chewing as he continues his tirade. “Where are your wise words, old man? Why the hell’d you even make me get up if this is all I was going to get?”

Wayne hums again, clearly just to piss Eddie off, then finally answers, “you needed to eat.”

Eddie stares at him, mouth hanging open half-masticated potatoes on full display for anyone to see. Not that anyone’s going to because Wayne’s gone back to polishing off his breakfast.

“That’s it?” Eddie demands, throwing his fork down in a huff.

Wayne sighs, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable here and finally puts his fork down to meet his nephew’s eyes.

“Finish your breakfast, and we can talk.”

Eddie whines, but dutifully scarfs down his plate, never breaking eye contact with his uncle, like they’re in a stand-off. And in a way, they are.

Once done, Eddie tosses his fork across the room into the sink just to prove a point, leans across the table and glares at Wayne. Because he’s an asshole, Wayne takes another sip of his coffee, maintaining eye contact, before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“You like this boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sputters and stalls out. “You—I—what?” Eddie asks, fisting his hands into his greasy hair.

“It ain’t an unreasonable question,” he replies. “You’re talking about the kid like he’s a knight in one of those little games you like so much.”

“I—no I wasn’t!” Eddie cries, cheeks burning at the implication.

“Mmmhmm,” Wayne replies, eyebrow raised as he drinks more of his coffee like what he’s saying is of no importance at all.

“Wayne,” Eddie says, leaning over the table to clutch at his shoulders, ribs protesting at the pull. “I’m not gay.”

And that, out of everything, is what gets Wayne to put his mug back down and take Eddie seriously. “You ain’t?” Wayne asks, eyebrow raised. Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide. “You sure? There’s an awful lot of men in leather on your walls.”

Eddie squawks, sinking painfully back into his seat. “That’s Metallica.”

Wayne squints at him. “Is that one of them code words y’all use to stay safe?”

Eddie stands up, chair screeching against the linoleum floor. “It’s a band, Wayne!” Eddie cries, at a loss for what the fuck is happening. “I’m not gay!”

Wayne looks up at him, both eyebrows raised enough to scrunch up his forehead, wrinkling his mostly-bald head. “Well, alright then.”

Eddie stares at him, brain buzzing with even more questions than he’d had before. How long had Wayne thought he was gay? Why? What did he do?

Was he really okay with it?

Eddie turns on his heel and marches out of the kitchen and back to his bedroom without another word. He slams the door and collapses onto his bed, gut squirming with all the thoughts churning in his head.

*** 

Chrissy isn’t surprised when Eddie doesn’t come to school on Monday; she is surprised when Steve does. He’s got bags under his eyes and Robin Buckley super-glued to his side, but he’s still there.

She can’t help the way she runs into his arms, leaving Jeff behind without thought. Steve catches her—he always does, pushing his hands beneath his letterman jacket to grab at her waist and pull her in. They sway there in the middle of the hallway, all their classmates jeering around them.

Chrissy doesn’t care; she’s spent the entire weekend thinking about the crushed look in his eyes as he walked out of the Munson trailer without a backwards glance

“You’re okay?” she asks, face pressed into the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

He runs his hand up and down her back as he responds, “I will be.”

She pulls back to smile up at him and reaches up to brush a floppier-than-usual lock of hair behind his ear. “Walk me to class?”

He links their elbows, and does just that, Jeff and Robin falling into line behind them, Robin prattling on about some movie marathon her and Steve had had at her house over the weekend. 

Chrissy’s just glad he wasn’t alone.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping as he says, “I’m sorry, Chris,” he says, not looking her way. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess.”

She stops abruptly enough that Robin stumbles into them and bounces back, cutting off her stream of words mid-babble to squawk at them. Chrissy doesn’t acknowledge her, too busy standing on her tippy toes so she can grab Steve’s shoulders and yank him down to her level.

“You listen to me, Steve Harrington,” she demands, looking into his big, bewildered eyes. “Your mess is my mess, okay?”

He’s still just staring at her, eyes wide, mouth hanging open, so she digs her nails in hard and says, “forever,” with as much finality as she can muster.

He keeps staring at her, looking like he’s about ready to burst into tears in the middle of the hallway. Finally, he says, “come over tonight?” more a demand than a question.

She drops her grip on him and nods, content.

Chrissy doesn’t ask questions when Steve leads her over to Robin in the cafeteria. It’s easy to take that last, final step into social suicide with him at her side. 

They fall into their usual routine that night—they watch trashy TV neither would admit to liking to another living soul, and paint each other’s nails.

The lack of letter writing sits like a dead body between them.

“He won’t tell anyone,” Chrissy says, tightening her grip on his hand when he jerks. Chrissy keeps carefully painting his nails, her favorite pink, not looking up at his face. The color suits him—it’s not fair, but everything does. “He promised.”

Steve doesn’t ask for clarification, they both know who she’s talking about. “You believe him?”

She thinks about that torn, guilty look on Eddie’s face and replies, “I do.”

She finishes his pinkie and settles his hand down on her own knee to dry, knowing from previous experience that if she gives it back, he’ll ruin all her work running his hand through his hair.

“That’s good,” he mutters, looking down at his own hand, tilted so far forward that even when she looks up, his hair’s flopped too far into his face to see his eyes. “It still hurts.”

Chrissy sighs. She’d seen this coming all those months ago when she’d helped pen the first letter. Had seen the writing on the wall like it was she herself that was writing it. But, she’d helped him anyway, hoping to salvage his safety, if not his dignity.

She can only hope she has.

“I know,” she replies, biting her lip against apologies he won’t accept. “But, we’re in this together, okay?”

Steve’s fingers twitch on her leg, but he doesn’t pull away. “Even with you and Jeff?”

“You figured that out, huh?” she asks, and that’s what finally gets him to look up at her with a raised brow, making her laugh.

“I mean, you told me you were going to ask him out,” he starts, before leering over at her. “And you two aren’t exactly subtle.”

“Tell that to Eddie,” she replies, wanting to swallow the name back down once it comes out of her mouth, but it’s too late—it’s already been said.

Steve smiles wryly as he says, “well, he’s not exactly the most observant, is he?”

He has her there. Steve himself, no matter how hard he tried, wasn’t subtle with his affections: the compliments, the stuttering over his words, the blushing. But none of it had done more than make Eddie give Steve suspicious looks, like there was some sort of game he wasn’t in on.

There was, but even without knowing he was playing, he’d still beaten Steve.

“No, he’s really not.”

Steve hums, picking up his hand to check if it’s dry before moving onto painting her nails. He picks his favorite yellow for her, even though he knows it washes her out. She holds out her hand and doesn’t complain.

“I really like him,” Steve says, quietly enough that it’s barely audible over the murmur of voices coming from the TV.

“I know,” she whispers, watching the flickering sadness on his face by the illumination of the Harrington’s big television screen. “I love you. You know that, right?”

He pauses in painting her nails to meet her eyes, smiling for real now. “I know,” he says, stroking the skin on her wrist with the free fingers not holding the nail polish applicator. “And you know what? This was all worth it if I got you out of it.”

And then he just goes back to painting her nails like that wasn’t the most romantic thing anyone has ever said. Eddie Munson can fuck himself; Chrissy’s going to be buried in Steve’s letterman jacket and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

*** 

Eddie doesn’t go to school on Monday. He’s too busy rereading the secret admirer notes—the notes Steve Harrington left him—like if he reads them in the right order, it’ll all snap together in his brain in a way that makes fucking sense.

And it does, sort of. It’s like sorting out a bunch of puzzle pieces after finally knowing what the shape of the puzzle even is. Some parts of the letters just jump out of the page, the longer he looks. In the end, he processes this the way he processes everything: he makes a list.

   Proof that Steve Harrington is my Secret Admirer:

   1. I’m not trying to bully you.

   2. I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you.

   3. I know you don’t like them, but I like sports.

   4. My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors.

   5. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours.

   6. I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty.

   7. Do you hate all of them, or just the bullies?

   8.   You laughed, but it wasn’t your real laugh like when Mr. Danver accidentally said ‘orgasm’ instead of ‘organism’.

A jock afraid of Eddie labeling them as a bully? Check. Favorite color, the same one Steve Harrington had painted his nails all those weeks ago? Check. Rich enough to have a piano that’s just not played? Check. But the most damning part of all: Chrissy was never in Mr. Danver’s class with him last year, but Harrington was. And Chrissy? Her eyes are bright, translucent blue.

The longer he looks at those two incriminating bits of evidence, the stupider he feels. It was never her, and from the looks of it, they hadn’t put much effort into pretending it was. It was always Harrington from that first, forever-lost letter that they’d stuffed in his locker.

And the longer he pours over the letters, the less he can picture Chrissy sprawled on her bed, writing each letter with a shy flourish before spraying it with a puff of her favored scent. No. It’s Harrington, frowning down at the page because words have never come easy to him; it’s Harrington sleeping with Eddie’s letter placed gently beneath his pillow; it’s Harrington who’d made Eddie smile like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

And now that he thinks about it, wasn’t it Harrington whose eye he kept catching from across the cafeteria? Harrington who’d stutter over his words around Eddie, but still told him he was a good storyteller?

Harrington who wanted to go to his show. Chrissy hadn’t even remembered Corroded Coffin’s name. 

Harrington had–of course he had. 

And he can picture that, too now. Harrington in the crowd in his stupid polo with his bright yellow nail polish, sticking out like a sore thumb in the gruff crowd at the Hideout, beautiful brown eyes trained solely on Eddie.

He can still feel the way his pulse had ratcheted up when they were in the bathroom, Harrington between his spread thighs, palms warm against his tender ribs, sucking all the oxygen out of Eddie’s lungs with how close he was.

It’s too much.

“Hello?” Jeff’s mom sounds curt over the phone, already fed up with Eddie calling before he’s even said anything. Eddie doesn’t care; he can’t when he needs Jeff this badly.

“Can I talk to Jeff?” he cries out, hand shaking around the receiver as he listens to her grumble, but she still shouts for her son to come pick up the goddamn phone. 

“Hello?”

Eddie should wait until he’s sure Jeff’s mom is no longer in hearing vicinity, but he can’t, too wound up tight to keep from blurting out, “am I gay?”

There’s a moment of silence that Eddie can barely breathe through before Jeff says, “uhh, Eddie?” in such a bewildered voice that Eddie sort of wants to punch him.

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” he says, words spilling out over each other. “And I’m sorry about what I said, and you’re sorry that you kept secrets from me—we can do that later, Jeff!”

“Uh, oka—”

“Now, am I gay?” he’s panting by the time he’s done, not having taken a single breath during his tirade. He’s waiting for Jeff’s confirmation or denial, but all that comes down the line is his quiet breathing. “Jeff?”

“Uh, shit, we’re doing this? Okay.” Eddie can almost picture the fed-up palm Jeff’s rubbing against his face, as if it’s somehow Eddie’s fault that Jeff is taking so long explaining the squirmy nebulous feeling in Eddie’s gut. “I don’t know man, why do you think you’re gay?”

Then, Eddie does what he should have done all along, and spills everything to Jeff, from the first letter all the way up to Steve Harrington’s bitchy little speech in the quarry as he put himself bodily between Eddie and Jason Carver.

“—and then he kneeled between my knees like that’s a normal, straight guy thing to do and just like, put his hands in my shirt!” Eddie whines, long since having settled onto the cold linoleum of his kitchen floor. “I mean, what the hell?”

“I think you’re forgetting one important fact, dude: Steve’s not straight.”

“Which brings me back to my question!” Eddie replies, trying for breezy and landing on whiny. “Am I gay?”

Jeff hums down the line like he’s really thinking about it this time. “Well, when he was touching you,” he starts, like that already doesn’t have Eddie’s face flaming, “what did you feel?”

Eddie puts himself back into that moment, thighs splayed pressed open by the heavy weight of Harrington’s body, Harrington’s big, warm hands running over his skin, his worried golden brown eyes roving over Eddie’s face.

“I felt like I was on fire,” Eddie whispers, feeling that same heat now pooling lower in his gut.

“…in a good way?” Jeff asks.

Eddie’s brain goes static, full of too much to differentiate good from bad, if that’s a distinction that ever existed at all. Eddie makes a questioning noise in his throat, knees twitching restlessly where they’re crossed in front of him.

“Okay, okay, uhh—hmm,” Jeff hums across the line. “Did you want to move closer or away?”

Eddie closes his eyes and thinks, imagining that trapped, warm, overwhelming feeling of being caged in by Harrington’s body. “Both?”

Jeff hmms again, clearly trying to think it through. Eddie can’t blame him—this is the most confused he’s been in his entire life, and Jeff doesn’t even have an all-access pass to his brain to try to pick answers out of–not that it’s currently doing Eddie much good.

“Do you want to try kissing a guy?” Jeff asks. “I’d do it, if it was for you, dude.”

Eddie’s nose wrinkles, lips puckering in disgust, “ew, you’re like my brother.”

Jeff laughs at him and replies, “so you don’t want to, not because I’m a guy, but because we’re like brothers? Sounds pretty gay, dude.”

“Oh.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything; he’s always been good at sensing when Eddie just needs a minute to think. But this time, he doesn’t think a minute will cut it, so he continues with a, “hey Jeff?”

“Hmm?”

“I really did mean it, you know.” He squeezes the phone tighter against the side of his face, like that will help his sincerity ring down the line. “I am sorry, and we should talk about it, but I can’t yet.”

Jeff still doesn’t reply, but his breathing is steady and sure down the line, settling Eddie’s anxious heart down to a little flutter.

“Is that okay?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, dude,” Jeff replies gruffly. “So, you’ll still call me?”

Eddie smiles. He’s missed Jeff, is the thing. They’ve been so distant lately, and no matter how well Eddie and Gareth get along, he’s no Jeff. “Or accost you at school, whichever comes first.”

That makes Jeff laugh; Eddie lets the sound warm him. “Okay, but I’m serious about the kissing thing!” Jeff replies, “Come over and I can plant one right on y—”

Eddie hangs up on his friend, feeling more himself than he has in days. No matter what happens, he has Jeff.

PART 17

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

[starkeyisthelastname]

What about reader riding trailer park rafe’s cock?

that old worn couch is subject to a lot of dirty mean sex 💦😩

It had been a long day for him, working some shitty job and sweatin’ his ass off in the brutal Carolina heat, just for his truck to fuck up on the way home. He thankfully got it started up again, zooming it through the park until he pulled up to his run down trailer. You were already by the creaky steps waiting for him, lookin’ all pretty with a smile on your face. He was in a piss poor mood, hot and just wanted to sit on his ass.

“Get inside, gimme a beer and bring me my plate.” He grumbled, stomping past you with a brooding look on his handsome face. Of course he expected you to wait on him hand and foot, like a good little trailer park house wife does.

He slid off his belt, throwing it on the old wooden coffee table before lazily resting on the worn couch. You’d bring him a plate full of food you had cooked and a cold beer from the fridge. He watched you then fix a smaller plate for yourself, before coming down to sit next to him. It would be quiet except for the shitty tv playing something that his eyes were focused on while he ate his food up and downed his beer.

It was after he cleared his plate, he felt a little better and wanted to relax even more with his dick inside your cunt. “Hey, go get me another one sugar.” He said, his voice a little less gruff than when he had greeted you as he waved his empty beer can around. You always felt giddy at his sweet names he called you, prancing over to the fridge to get him another beer, like a good obedient doll. He watched that sweet bare ass peek out of your dress as you bent over, his mind made up even more as he lit a cigarette and popped the button of his jeans open.

As you approached with his beer, he reached out with two rough hands to pull you onto his lap to straddle. He took the beer from you, one hand coming up to take a drag from his cigarette before inhaling the smoke and putting the bud out. His blue eyes grazed over you, blowing out the smoke over your sweet smelling self as he drank in every inch he was gonna ruin some more of.

“I’m gonna stretch your little cunt out for a while. Kay sweetheart?” He said, hand that wasn’t holding his beer coming up to grip your jaw so that you would keep your eyes on him. You nodded eagerly, already lifting up your dress like he been teaching you.

You’d let out the prettiest whine, grasping his broad shoulder for support while he helped you ease down onto his fat length. He was huge, always stretching your pretty cunt open and making your head dizzy when you felt him inside. “T-too big.” You couldn’t help but whimper, tensing up as he filled you to the brim and placed his hands on your hips to squeeze.

You were such a tight fuck, gripping his dick as he started slowly guiding you up and down. “You can fuckin’ take it babydoll. Let that fat cock stuff your sweet hole full.” He grunted, teaching you how to ride dick so that on days he didn’t feel like putting in the work he could still get a nut.

As you began to find a rhythm, letting those beautiful moans echo of the trailer walls, he then let his hands go and rested them behind his head. He’d lean back against the tattered loveseat, dirty smirk on his face as he watched you begin to bounce up and down without any help. You were such a good little listener, dainty hands tugging at the old silver chain he wore around his neck, and letting those pretty knees work.

He’d even reach over to grab another cigarette, lighting it as it hung between his lip and nodding his head towards you to keep going when you slowed down. “Didn’t I say you could stop? Lemme’ me fuckin’ relax and get to fuckin hoppin’.” He said, his voice sounding mean again as he was gonna make you work for it before he really gave it to you.

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Violence, suggestive content

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Two months. Two. Fucking. Months. Cassian shook his head, almost impressed.

Quite literally two fucking months. 

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. He half-coughed, half-laughed up the wine he’d been drinking. Nesta thumped his back, a mischievous smirk plastered on her normally severe face. 

Rhysand had finally gotten word that you and Azriel would be arriving… well, anytime now. Everyone had piled onto the House of Wind’s roof to await your return, the taste of new gossip already in the air. 

Nesta lounged in Cassian’s lap, searching the horizon line for the tell-tale flicker of Azriel’s wings. Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor were too busy placing bets on which of the males — if any — would come out of the fight unscathed to stare at the sky. 

“Fifty on Azriel.” Emerie said without hesitation.

There was a clatter of coins. 

“I’ve got a good feeling about Helion. The paternal protectiveness might make him especially vicious.” Gwyn reasoned. 

“Brotherly protectiveness may prove just as strong. If not stronger.” Was Mor’s opinion. “Lucien and Helion both won against Azriel last time.” 

“Az wasn’t trying then.” Emerie argued back. “Sad male that he was.”

The father-son pair tried not to let their egos grow or be injured by the conversation happening so close by. Instead, they engrossed themselves in their third chess game of the morning. It was becoming rather tedious by now. Being the early risers — and overprotective males — that they were, they’d been waiting for hours in the training ring for the first sign of your return. 

Alas, nothing so far.

A spread of breakfast plates cluttered the table they played on, silverware stacked neatly on porcelain plates. Save for the knives. Those were kept in close reach.

Rhysand tried to join in on the game, but the two males refused him time and time again. They knew better than to play with a daemati. 

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys purred. “Won’t you indulge me?” 

She smirked, but slid into her chair beside Nesta and Cassian, and across from her mate. She folded her finger neatly beneath her chin, her wall of adamant strong and impenetrable. 

Rhys was about to make his first move — pawn to E4 — when a twinkle in Feyre’s eye told him they had visitors. 

Cassian stood up straighter, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face as he cupped his hand to his mouth and whooped.

A full house. You remarked as the House of Wind came into view above the city. Its red stone spires crawled into the sky. Reaching like outstretched fingertips.

The wind sang in your ears, ruffling your hair as you clung to Azriel. 

Lucky us. You teased.

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched at the flash of red hair and crown of black locs waiting on the roof. 

Helion and Lucien rose slowly, twin smirks gracing their lips as they started unclasping necklaces and tying back their hair. 

Is it too late to go back to the Cottage? Azriel growled, dropping to his feet on the House of Wind’s roof.

I’m afraid so. We’ve committed. 

You slowly untangled yourself from Azriel’s hold and planted both feet on solid ground. He caught your arm before you could stray too far, tugging you back to his side and wrapping a wing around your shoulders. 

“You’re baaaaaack!” Cassian sang, throwing his arm out in a gesture of welcome. “Gods have we missed you both. You especially, Y/n. You look lovely. The mating bond suits you.” 

He winked seductively, blowing a kiss in your direction. 

Azriel figured Cassian could do without his remaining arm. 

“I hope Azriel sufficed for your first time.” Rhysand chimed in. His voice was liquid velvet. By now, Azriel had gone stone still — a dangerous look for the Shadowsinger. “But if you’re ever interested in sampling better fares, Cassian and I—” 

Helion slammed into Azriel’s side before he could reach Rhysand, wrapping his powerful arms around Azriel’s middle and throwing him across the room where Lucien waited with fist pulled back. 

Remember what we talked about. 

Azriel was slippery and cool as he wove in and out between Helion and Lucien’s bodies. He threw out a collection of strikes that had blood splattering on the ground.

Nothing permanent. He growled.

Thank you. 

“Did you see that?” Rhysand looked aghast as he settled deep into his seat. “He was going to hit me!” He flipped his cane end over end. 

“He has no honor, brother.” Cassian agreed. But both had to admit, there was some satisfaction in getting to watch the fight instead of participating in it. 

You slunk around the edges of the training ring, trying to avoid getting too close to the tumble of bodies that were being thrown around like rag dolls. 

It would seem there was someone else trying to escape notice.

You blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here, High Lord?” 

Eris Vanserra leaned against a stone pillar, foot propped up against the wall as he swirled a glass of wine between bejeweled fingers. Aside from the gold glittering on his knuckles and along his ears, he was dressed like a commoner. His brown riding boots were well-worn with love and his shirt was left open at the top to reveal scarred and freckled skin. He chuckled when Lucien slammed his fist into the side of Azriel’s face with a growl that rattled the columns.

“None of that High Lord business.” He said, swatting the air like the very term offended him. “Call me Eris.” He smiled sideways at you, never taking his full attention off the fight. “Lucien asked me to come as backup, and I would never pass up the opportunity to help my brother,” he glanced down at you and cocked his head to the side, “And my sister.” 

“Is that what we are now? Siblings?”

He shrugged. “We always did want a girl in the family.” 

You were about to ask who Eris meant by “we” when there came a loud bang. 

Azriel held the shattered legs of a chair and Lucien kneeled on the ground, spitting splinters from his mouth. 

“You’re doing your brotherly duty wonderfully.” Your words were drier than a desert. 

Helion came to Lucien’s aide and used those powerful legs of his to drop kick Azriel in the chest and crack a rib… or two. 

“I’m also here for the entertainment.” Eris winked. 

When he turned back to the fight, Azriel was already staring at him, and he was livid. 

“Ahhhh, that’s my cue.” He tousled your hair, earning a roar from Azriel as Lucien and Helion latched onto his arms and held the Shadowsinger back. “We’ll talk again later.” 

He sauntered over to the trio, reared back his fist, and punched Azriel in the stomach. 

Nesta waved you over from her spot at the table with Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, and Feyre. It was a safe enough distance away from the brawl, even if the glasses shook every time a body hit the floor. 

“Leave the males to their fighting and eat. You must be starved.” Nesta slid over a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast slathered in a healthy amount of butter. 

You hated that Nesta was right. The frenzy had left you with little patience for eating most days. You descended upon the food. 

Gwyn was still watching the males. There was a strange fascination in her eyes as Helion spit out a mouthful of blood and Azriel punched Eris in the teeth. “I wonder how many wars could have been prevented if the males simply gathered in a room with their right hands and a ruler.” 

Emerie snorted. “I reckon at least ten.” 

Gwyn shook her head. “So.” She turned her attention to you and leaned in close. “How was it?” She did not speak the words quietly.

You blushed through a mouthful of eggs. “It was… very nice.” 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Nesta shook her head so many times that flyaway strands of blonde hair escaped her coronet. “How was it?”

Cassian moved in close, resting his head on Nesta’s shoulder. “We want details.” 

“Oh, stay out of this, Cass.” 

The Lord of Bloodshed huffed when Feyre enclosed the females in a wall of silent air. He settled for laying his head against Nesta’s back, feeling the vibrations of her body as she spoke.  

“We do want details. Spare us nothing.” 

The females hovered, breaths held in their chests for every salacious detail you were certain to tell. Their excitement made them forgetful of one very important fact — you had always been, and likely always would be, very private.

You looked at Feyre and swallowed. “We um… We broke the windows at the Cottage and need them replaced.” 

The females blinked. 

“Which ones?” Feyre asked, arching a dark brow. 

Azriel smiled at you from across the training ring, a trickle of blood spilling out from the corner of his lips as he wrestled Eris to the ground with his legs locked around the redhead’s neck. 

“All of them.” 

It was near noon when the fighting started, and the males still hadn’t ceased though the sun had set hours ago.

You walked onto the roof smothered in one of Azriel’s sweaters to escape the air’s chilly bite. This high up the mountains, the wind always whisked away heat like the sea to sand. 

Scraps of fabric littered the ground. Bloodstains lay sprinkled across stone floors like salt. It was all to be expected after a mating frenzy, and it did not surprise you that Azriel had kept up with your father and brothers for so long, but, enough was enough. You wanted your mate back.

“Ahem,” You coughed loudly. 

Azriel’s eyes flickered to you before you even opened your mouth. He had felt your presence before you’d even walked up the stairs and stepped onto the training mats. 

My love. He sighed.

Eris got the last swing in, but he missed the Shadowsinger by a half-margin. Poor Lucien, who’d been holding back Azriel’s arm, got a fistful of gold rings instead.

Lucien’s head snapped back. “What the fuck, Eris?!” He stood grasping at his nose. Blood spilled out from between his fingers. 

Eris winced. “Sorry, little brother.” 

You made another little noise and the males shoved each other away, bodies sweaty and bloodstained. Eris’s shirt was ripped to shreds, barely hanging onto his narrow shoulders as he wiped the blood from his lips and grinned like a fox. Helion was missing a nose ring and the top tip of his ear. A bruise sprouted along Lucien’s cheeks courtesy of his brother. 

But Azriel? The only evidence he carried of the fight was the thin line of dried blood between his lips. It was not unpleasant to look upon.

Less than ten seconds ago they’d been at each other's throats with tooth and nail. But as males were ought to do, once the fight was over they were quick to grumble half-hearted compliments and began picking jewelry and abandoned blades off the floor.

Azriel tipped his head towards you in the smallest of bows. When you held out your hand for him, he didn’t even bother walking to close the distance between you two. He winnowed directly to your side.

About time you finished. I’m ready for bed and I’d like to have my mate beside me.

I like it when you call me that. I like it when you call me yours.

You smiled softly at him, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. You didn’t think you’d ever tire of smiling at his hazel eyes. 

You looked to the rest of your family. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t pretend to worry about us, dear Y/n.” Eris snorted. The smirk on his face was a friendly one, highlighting his handsome, but impish, features as he gathered his cloak from the corner of the room. He swung it around his shoulders, magically repairing his clothes with a flutter of red velvet. “We’re fine. And I would never pass up an opportunity to go toe-to-toe with the Shadowsinger.” He winked at Azriel, who only scowled in return. 

That scowl turned into a barred teeth snarl when Eris brushed past you both.

His warm, amber eyes betrayed what you already knew from that brief moment of contact before he went off to his room — he hadn’t been lying when he said they always wanted a girl in the family. 

“Goodnight, sister.” Lucien said, kissing your forehead. It took everything in Azriel not to pummel Lucien once more. Your brother’s eyes flickered up to the Shadowsinger. “And congratulations on your mating bond. Truly.” 

You mouthed the words, Thank you, before accepting a final goodnight embrace from your father. 

“It’s good to have you back.” He smoothed back your hair. Then Helion clicked his tongue and thumped Azriel on the shoulder. “Greedy little Shadowsinger. Keeping my daughter away for two months.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

The pair soon disappeared down the hallway leaving you and Azriel to linger in the night’s silence alone.

The corner of Azriel’s mouth twitched — the only sign he was in any pain when you gently brushed against his ribs. 

You smirked. It would seem that your family members had done a number on the Shadowsinger. He’d just been hiding it beneath layers of leather and male pride. What a shame that the females’ bets had been for nothing.

My Y/n, whose side are you on? He asked as you began unbuckling the gauntlets on his arms. Piece by piece, leather armor fell to the ground as steam curled up into the air. It never failed to amaze you how large Illyrian tubs were—and how long they took to fill. 

I’m on both your sides.

That is a very noncommittal answer. 

It’s a very judicious answer. 

Azriel smiled, cheeks brushing against yours as he kissed the curve of your ear. I do agree you are anything if not sensible. 

Azriel hummed in satisfaction as the last of his Illyrian leathers dropped to the floor. You knelt beside the tub, pouring in a concoction of oils as Azriel stretched out his wings. It was easy to admire the curve of his neck and the muscles of his back as his wings flexed open and close. 

When he was deep beneath the waters, eucalyptus and lavender opening up his lungs, he asked you to clean his wings. It was heaven whenever you touched them. Your soft fingertips seemed to hold all the power in the world — the power to light his blood aflame like whiskey or to soothe him like a sleep draught. Tonight your touch was peaceful as he wrapped his mind around the bond and felt your souls melt and mix like gold. 

This is to be our lives now. Azriel reminded himself once again. 

You buried yourself beneath the covers and made a little noise of contentment that never failed to make his chest grow warm. 

It is. You agreed. Would you like me to remind you? 

It was a pattern of words you’d grown used to while at the Cottage. Azriel would marvel at the mating bond—the peace that came with it—and you would take to carefully kissing the expanse of his chest, his neck, his collarbones, until there wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been painted by your gentle lips. 

You began that ritual now, winding your way up his chest and ending at his eyelids. Black eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you finished performing the magic that was your love and devotion. 

I love you, Azriel. You reminded him. You would remind him of that truth every day of your lives. 

I love you too, Y/n. I adore you. 

You settled into his side and Azriel draped a wing around your shoulders in a move that was as natural as breathing now. Heads bowed together, shadows curled close by, and scarred hands met scarred skin as he traced the curve of your spine.

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird. 

Together. 

As they were always meant to be.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

This is the last chapter before the epilogue y'all. I don't think I can say anything right now because it feels weird to be saying goodbye to this story so... I guess I'll save my thoughts and emotions for another time...

[wooziorgans]

hear me out, woozi its definitely the type of man that would eat you out from behind while you are cooking or doing the dishes

— dishes

GODDDDD COOKED. yeah. yeah he would ur so right. n he’d do it as a thank you for taking care of him too!

also if he’s doing it from the back then i think he’d be heavy on the ass play too. he’d be groping you from behind mmmmm.

this rlly speaks to me ,,, spiritually,,, so here’s 1k words of him. yeah.

warnings: doing shit in the kitchen. i think manhandling. ass play, yeah that’s rlly it i think aside from ,,, getting eaten out.

Jihoon wraps his strong arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as you scrub out the pot you used to make dinner. “Hi.” You giggle, water splashing onto your shirt as he catches you off guard.

“Hi, baby.” He mumbles, pushing his face into your neck. “Thank you for cooking tonight. Love you so much.” He seems almost drunk, with the way he’s mumbling and the sudden clinging to you. One of his arms undoes itself from your waist, moving behind your back to trace the waistband of your sweats with his fingers.

“I love you too, Hoonie. You doing okay?” You ask, placing the pot onto the drying rack.

You did have wine with your pasta, and your boyfriend’s a lightweight, but he’s not that much of a lightweight. Still, you can’t help but worry about his sudden shift in behaviour. It’s not unusual for Jihoon to be affectionate; he makes sure you know he loves you through physical affection when his words don’t seem like enough, but his speech is what sparks up your concern.

“‘M fine, love. You’re just so good to me, ‘n you’re so beautiful too.” His wandering hand slips down your sweats, resting on your ass. You rinse off the plates, placing them in the drying rack before you go to turn around and face him. Jihoon pushes his hips forwards to trap you against the counter. The water from the sink that had splashed onto the edge of the counter soaks into your shirt.

His hand squeezes your ass, whole palm enveloping your cheek. “Jihoon,” you hiss, hands gripping onto the edge of the counter.

“I know I don’t tell you that often, but I’m so grateful for you. You take such good care of me. Let me thank you, baby.” Jihoon’s other hand slides around your waist to grip your ass with both hands. A soft gasp leaves your lips and it’s all you can manage at the moment. Jihoon takes it as a cue to move you away from the wet sink, knowing you’ll complain about the wet fabric of your shirt.

“J-Ji, the dishes—” He pushes you against the counter, palm flat against your back. Your cheek rests on the cold marble of the countertop. His hands move back to your sweats, pulling them down on one quick motion.

“I'll finish them for you later.” Jihoon detaches himself from your back, getting onto his knees as his hands massage your ass.

Something about your boyfriend on his knees for you drives you a little insane. His hand cracks down on the soft skin of your ass, his eyes intently focused on the way it recoils under his palm. He spreads you apart with both hands, a small moan leaving his lips as he sees the shine of your arousal glisten in the warm light of the kitchen.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me already. You sure you didn’t spill any water while doing the dishes?” He chuckles deeply, finger sliding up and down your entrance.

“Fuck off,” You gasp, and any other retort you have to throw at him is lost when his tongue flattens against your core.

The warmth of his mouth almost sends you into shock as he teases your folds with his tongue, barely pushing it into you. He’s never eaten you out in this position before, and as his lips latch around your clit, nose pressing against your entrance, it’s so different it has your knees buckling.

Jihoon uses his hands to spread your ass apart, somehow supporting you as you start to fall apart.

“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. God, gonna eat you out like this all the time now. You look so pretty like this.” Jihoon’s never really vocal during sex, but something is different about this. The position he has you in requires him to praise you because of the view he has. He needs you to know how good you look, how sweet you taste, how much he needs you. The vibration of his voice sends a shiver up your spine.

Jihoon keeps massaging your ass as he sucks on your clit. He alternates between soft suction with his nose barely touching your skin, and harder suction where his nose is pressing into your folds, prodding your entrance.

He licks a long stripe up your core, nose brushing against your perineum, wetting the skin with your own arousal, and it’s not much but it’s enough to tip you over the edge. His thumb brushes over your asshole, spreading your slick over it, and it’s enough to have you coming undone on his tongue.

Jihoon keeps working you open on his mouth through your orgasm, pulling away once you’ve settled. “Fuck,” He hisses, slipping a finger into your entrance, “you’ve never cum from just oral before.” You can feel the smirk on his lips as he murmurs against your thigh.

He pumps his fingers in and out, tips brushing against your spot. “Gonna fuck you against the counter like this. Just gotta open you up for me.” He bites softly at the swell of your ass before adding another finger and pushing his tongue between his digits.

Your soft whimpers and moans motivate him, picking up at the intrusion of his tongue. He pumps both in and out, moaning softly at the taste of your previous release. When he’s satisfied, and feels your walls flutter around his fingers and tongue he keeps his pace steady, drinking in the low moan you let out as you come for a second time. Your knees buckle again and Jihoon palms your ass to keep you on your feet.

He pulls his fingers out, placing one last kiss over your entrance and another one on your ass before he stands up, slipping his sweats down to his ankles as he leans over your body. His mouth is right next to your ear as he whispers softly, “Gotta thank you properly for taking such good care of me,” as he rubs his tip against your entrance.

[elliesspacewalker]

Ellie being the bully of reader but secretly being like very obssesed and possessive over them. Maybe even in a secret casual relationship but being rlly jealous.

I've decided I will make this into a series, so please enjoy!

"shup up Ellie"

Warnings; transgender!ellie, semi enemies to lovers, Ellie plays rugby and so do you, weed usage, Ellie is a jerk lol, pure angst and fluff.

fynn = brother

Ellie fucking Williams, your brothers best friend- she was probably one of the biggest bullies towards you, even after you graduated high school, she would constantly throw slurs at you or make you feel bad about what you were doing. It never mattered what it was, you could just be making food and Ellie would comment on how you're making the food wrong even if you were doing it right.

"Fynn! Come have a look at this fucking idiot" she called your very stoned brother over who laughed at you after you spilt chocolate powder all over yourself. "Ellie it's not funny"

"It's fucking hilarious dude" Fynn says trying to calm his breathing as he laughs even harder, "funniest shit ever, anyways me and Ellie are going to go play video games, don't interrupt us" you scoff, before moving to grab a cloth to wipe up the floor, looking up from the floor you see Ellie still staring at you.

"Bro what do you want?" you ask her and she shakes her head "you look pathetic by the way, you're clumsy as fuck and you need to stop spilling everything" you wanted to cry, Ellie always bullied you, even if she took it too far she never apologized to you. "okay" you say with a tired tone, so done with her shit.

It was 9pm and your parents weren't home yet, but at least you finished baking your brownies! You sigh before grabbing a few and putting them onto a plate, making your way upstairs quietly and knocking on your brothers door softly to see if he's still awake after almost hot boxing the entire house.

Ellie opens the door and a massive amount of smoke blows into your face, you cough and start moving your hands to get rid of the smoke "bro what do you want?" Ellie says with a frown.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted some brownies I made, nothing personal" you hand her the brownies and she looks at you, maybe the only time you've seen her genuinely thankful for something you gave her.

"thanks bro" she mutters under her breath and you give her a subtle 'you're welcome' before shutting your brothers door and making your way to your room...

You sit cross legged on your bed and open your mac book to finally get some school projects done, before you know it three hours had passed and there's a knock at your door.

"come in?" your voice low, but sweet. it was so intoxicating. it was Ellie, you have a confused look on your face- her eyes red and looks like she had been crying but it was just the weed

"it was uhh." she itches her ear, "it was good, thanks" you study her face, and she's being genuine "if you want more go for it" you sigh, closing your laptop.

"you coming to the game on sunday?" she mutters out, "ellie if you're here to bully me or whatever just don't bother with it, I'm done with your shit"

"i'm trying to be fucking friendly for once" she spits out and it gives you a slight shock "right" you nod, she rolls her eyes and slams your door pretty loudly, making you flinch.

You ended up going to the game on Sunday, which fucking sucked- you and Ellie were on the same team during rugby and your team lost by almost 30 points and you didn't know what to do...

You were sitting in the locket room with Ellie, fiddling with your bracelet begging Ellie won't try to talk to you.

"you did good out there" she mumbles to you "huh?"

"I'm saying you did good, we probably would've had it if Bredon didn't fucking injure his foot half way through the match" you giggle and agree.

"Nice bracelet by the way, where'd you get it?" Ellie moves her attention from your wrist to your eyes, you hum and decide if you should tell her or not "my grandma gifted it to me before she passed away"

"Oh- I didn't know I'm sorry for your lost" she says in a sympathetic tone, to say the very least you were confused about why she was acting nice to you... It was slightly overwhelming, you decide the tension is too think and you can't handle it anymore, you say bye before grabbing your gear and going out the locker room.

"Hey hun, that was amazing!" your mom hugs you tightly, you roll your eyes knowing she was only trying to be nice even though you lost, by A LOT.

Ellie was going insane, she felt crazy for the awkward interaction with you "really Ellie?! Fucking 'nice bracelet'" she groans, pulling out her phone and sitting on her bed defeated- she knew what she was doing was wrong but she couldn't help it, she was obsessed and it was unhealthy, even she knew it.

She unlocks her phone before typing in your name on Instagram and following you, she sighs and flops down onto her bed.

Before she knows it, you accept her request and text her.

She shoots up and looks down at her phone to see your notification that says 'hey, did u mean to follow me?' she groans loudly, feeling awkward and didn't know what to say to you.

Hey yeah I did mean to..

Oh k

I don't wanna seem weird rn but what you doing over the weekend?

nm, y u askin?

Wanna come over to mine?

els if this is a game, just don't

Her heart thumped at you calling her els, she hearts the message and replies back fast.

Its not, I'm being genuine

Come over at 7pm tmmr?

sure cya then

a/n: part 2?

[yestrday]

bro like

imagine if reader and housewife scara had a kid that looks practically exactly like one of them and yet got the personality of the other parent 💀💀💀

🍡 anon back at it again

ghiwefi i can imagine the domestic shenanigans here istg kuni's reactions would be fucking hilarious. also you get called papa once because i couldnt think of any gn parental terms

you might like: yandere! genshin malewife au ft. scara

"oh my gosh say that one more time for the camera, sweetie."

your eight-year-old flips you off from his seat, glaring at you over a bowl of cereal. his [hair color] is messy from tossing and turning in his sleep and his pouty lips are in the most bitter scowl you have ever seen adorning them. you squeal as you capture your vulgar child on camera and begin fawning over it on camera, whilst kuni karate chops him on the head.

"ow! whaddya do that for?!" he complains, covering his bump with his tiny two hands as kuni locks him with an equally deadly glare.

"you brat, you better treat your parent with more respect!" he scolds. he looks threatening, despite holding a pan with the most delicious looking waffles while donning a frilly lavender apron. "if i see you flipping someone off one more fucking time, you're losing tv privileges!"

"why not?!" the child yells indignantly as he shakes his tiny fists at his father. "you do that to them all the time?!"

"just because i do it doesn't mean you can!"

"then you're not a very good parent, are you?!"

kuni pops a vein, and he feels the most vile sentence forming on the tip of his tongue before he bites it down and sighs. "for that, i'm still cutting down your tv time by one hour." he cries out in outrage, but he ignores him and slides the waffles onto a plate. "go play outside or something.... honestly, you look like this idiot over here—" he shoots a sharp glare at you, still fawning over the picture. "— but you're too goddamn rude to be anything like him."

"maybe it's because i get it from you!" the kid says, mouth full with waffles. kuni glances at him and scoffs, lightly hitting him again on the head.

"... make that two hours."

"never say that kind of sappy shit with my face ever again."

"but dad~" your daughter whines, tugging on kuni's kimono sleeve. "i love him! can't i just buy him one box of chocolates? please?"

kuni wrinkles his nose at the notion of a mere ten-year-old falling in love, and even more so when his literal carbon copy is pulling a lovesick expression with his face. she has the sharp eyes and all, yet they look so... girlish? dreamy, when on her. something about it grates on his nerves.

"how could you possibly like a guy like him?" he scoffs, scanning the aisle for a specific brand of flour. "you said he hated you. he throws your notebooks, mocks and humiliates you, and is basically anything but a decent human being. if it weren't for [y. name], i would've gone over to that school and ripped him and whatever vile parent he has into shreds."

"but! but!" she whines. "papa says you were exactly like that before!" kuni freezes. "then he could be the one for me!"

kuni snorts and grabs a bag of flour before dropping it into the cart. "your papa was and still is an idiot. but still," a fond smile graces his lips for a second. "we're the exception. doesn't mean it can turn out well for you."

"is that a no, then?" she pouts.

kuni is silent, and she perks up and pulls him down to give him a peck on the cheek. "thanks, dad!"

"whatever," he grumbles as she runs off to the chocolate aisle, holding the kissed cheek with an embarassed blush on his face.

[luveline]

Omg please kbd uncle Eddie:’)

dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

“Hi, Uncle Eddie.” 

Eddie rubs his hands together, holds them out in front of himself, and summons the prodigal child forward. “Bethany. Quick, give me a hug.” 

Bethie walks into his waiting arms, her giggle infectious as she says, “That’s not my name.” 

“Bethie,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You know my full name is Edward. Full names are nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“It’s Bethie.” 

She pushes the hair off of his shoulders. He smiles at her and her little hands. If someone told him ten years ago he’d be carrying Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington’s babygirl around like a treasure he’d laugh in their face, but he loves Beth. She’s hands down his favourite Harrington, and he’s allowed to have favourites as an uncle, though the other clingers are cool too. Beth is Eddie’s favourite because she’s an underdog, and because she’s so clearly infatuated with him. They’re best friends. 

He gives her a pat between the shoulders and slips down into a seat in front of the TV. There’s no signs of the other babies nor their parents; Eddie always lets himself in when he’s coming around and he doesn’t expect wait service, but a hello would be nice. “Where’s mom and dad?” he asks, setting Beth down into the seat beside him. He zeroes in on a plate of pretzels and snags a few for snacking. “You’re downstairs by yourself?” 

“No! They’re in the kitchen.” 

“Really? What about Ave and Dove, then?” he asks through chewing. 

“Dove is napping and Ave, um, went somewhere.” 

He raises his brows. “Dad took her somewhere?” He imagines Beth would tell him Avery’s run away with similar nonchalance. 

“To Grandma’s. They’re going to watch a play.” 

“Oh,” Eddie springs up off of the couch. “Stay here, sweetheart, I’ll just go make sure they know I’m here.” 

Eddie is scared to open the door. Why is it closed? He supposed parents are deprived of one another but he doesn’t wanna see you kissing. Then again, if he does see you kissing, Steve will die of embarrassment. That’s worth it. 

“Hello!” he shouts, throwing open the door. 

He makes you both jump hard, Steve’s head thwacking a cabinet and your hand thrown to your chest. You almost fall on your ass where you’re kneeling by Steve’s leg. His pant leg is pushed up to the knee, and you have a tweezers in hand —Eddie frowns abruptly. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks. 

“Steve has a tick, you fiend. When did you get here?” 

Steve groans. “The door was locked,” he says, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Not well. Just stuck my credit card in there and wham. You guys should slide the chain in if you’re gonna leave poor Bethie all by her lonesome, don’t you think?” 

“Eddie, the door was locked,” Steve says. “You’re the only weirdo in Hawkins willing to break in. Plus, I still have that baseball bat in the garage.” 

“Sure. Come on, sweetheart, get off the floor. Let Eddie have a stab at it.” 

You laugh and pull Steve’s pants down over his shin. “It’s fine, I already got it. He might get Lyme’s now because you scared the fuck out of me–”

“Language.” 

“–but I heated it up and I think I got it.” You look up with a smile. Steve pauses his pained head rubbing to beam at you lovingly. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Or he’ll turn into a zombie, and that would make him cooler. Win win. So, dinner?” Eddie asks. “Should I go get something?” 

“Nah, I made ravioli, you rude idiot. Where’s Beth?” 

“I told her to stay put in case you were making out.” 

Steve helps you up from your kneeling to dust you off. “Thanks for saving my life,” he sighs tiredly, kissing your cheek. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns away. Steve should love and appreciate you, you’re awesome, but he’s also a loser and Eddie’s entitled to thinking such disparaging thoughts about his friend from time to time. 

You and Steve made a kid as cool as Beth, so Steve can’t be too bad of a loser.

“Uncle Eddie?” 

“Yes, my lovely sweetpea angel?” Eddie asks. 

She stares at him, adorable in all her chubby-cheeked, sugary-eyed sweetness with her hands held up for another hug. Eddie leans down, says, “Daw, I can’t say no to you,” as she giggles into his hair. He strokes the top of her shoulder with his thumb. “So what’s happening? How did that painting go with mommy, did you put it in the contest?” 

Steve nudges you forward with a hand on your shoulder. “He’d make a good dad, right?” 

“For sure,” you say, “not as good as you, though.” 

“Oh, you’re flirting with me, that’s cool… Are you free Friday night?” 

“Probably gonna be pulling ticks off of some other guy's leg.” 

“Oh, that’s fine, I was busy anyways.” 

Beth giggles as Eddie tips her backward, a mixture of nerves and excitement that kids experience so much more than adults. 

“I always expected him to just end up with a kid. Like, one night stand style,” Steve says. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. At least then he doesn’t get stuck marrying somebody he doesn’t love.” 

Steve glares at you as you laugh, dragging you into his arms to smush kisses into your cheek. “Don’t even joke about that.” 

“Sorry, honey. I hope Eddie gets as lucky as me someday.” 

Beth begs to be put down through giggles. “I don’t know,” Steve says, resting his cheek on your temple to watch her laugh, “I don’t think Eddie has luck, just sheer force of will.” 

“He’d totally get a baby in a basket on his doorstep.” 

Steve mulls it over. “God, he totally would.” 

[simping-on-the-daily]

how do i meet the strangest men (they always seem to find me)

Summary: The bizarre armageddon, (Weirdmaggedon, you once overheard Ford call it) is upon you and the town of Gravity Falls. Spared from the human throne, the mastermind behind all this wants to share you with him and the man you once called a friend.

Warnings: Yandere content, not beta read we die like Eycludia, swearing, gore, Inspired by suggestive material but not NSFW

Notes: Based on @/yandere--stuck's drabbles and posts!! Title is from Possibly in Michigan, Ford is feral in a cute way and a dog, Bill uses all pronouns and she is transfemme thank you very much,,,,

Gravity Falls was a weird place.

It wasn't a ghost town- everyone here was a lively character, from Manly Dan to Old Man McGucket to Tyler Cutebiker’s horrifying puma-panther shirt abomination to the mailman who wouldn't shut the fuck up about her divorce from two years ago. It's chaos was almost relaxing, and at some point, the gnomes and manotaurs became a breather compared to panicking over last minute Summerween decorations and Northwest’s limo causing seventeen traffic jams in the span of two minutes.

This? This was not fucking relaxing. And it wasn't because of the gaping open wound over your heart, thank you very much.

Even above the chaos, you still felt yourself stressed by the very thought of the town’s circumstances. Bears doing choir and coffee turning to decaf? Sure, why not. A reverse waterfall of what you're pretty sure is blood and the water tower becoming a cannibal? That wasn’t ‘normal’. Those should've been Hades most horrific punishments, Sisyphus and Tantalus style, but no. It was real. And all of it was caused by the fucker in the corner.

Said fucker was currently playing fetch in the floating pyramids ‘penthouse suite’, using your bloody heart as a ball and throwing it to the other side, clapping when Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines sprinted on all fours towards your still pumping organ. As he held it in his mouth, you felt a pain surge through your chest as his teeth dug through the layers, instinctively curling in on yourself.

“Good boy, Sixer! We’re making new records!” Bill patted Ford's head. Instead of fighting back, as he promised you and his family, Ford melted into the touch, gleeful smile on his face. Was Bud Gleeful dead? God, you hoped so. His shitty cars had no space in the apocalypse. A noise akin to purring was coming through Ford's vocal cords, and you knew that if Bill snapped his fingers and gave him a tail, it would be wagging so hard you'd get dizzy just from looking at it.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Wanna give it a go?” Bill appeared in front of you, taking your hand off the human skin couch and placing your heart in it like mashed potatoes on a plate. The feeling of it felt gross, slimey in all the wrong ways. Bill intently waited, and you knew that despite his phrasing, it wasn't a question.

You still tried to postpone it, though. “Why not…..yours, this time?” You pointed towards the heart in your hands for clarification.

Bill laughed, hands reaching to where you assumed her stomach was as she chortled. “One day, honeypie! When your eyes won't explode and get in my eye. I like your gusto, though! I knew choosing you wasn't a mistake.”

You looked over to Ford, who was staring at you with lovestruck eyes, waiting for you to make the throw. God, that look was gonna fuck you up. With a sigh, you aimed back, elbow hitting the couch before you released and threw overhead.

You let out a pained whimper as you felt the agony of your heart hitting the roof with a strong thud. The moment it hit the ground, a few feet away from you, Ford scrambled to your heart, tripping on nothing as he ran towards you. With you on the couch and the scientist on his arms and knees, another surge went through your body as you realized how the scene would look from an outsider's point of view.

Bill gave a quick clap. “Impressive throw, snookums! We should go javelin throwing someday, just the two of us.”

You weren't focusing on him, though. All your attention was on Ford, and it felt like neither of you moved. You kept looking in his eyes despite trying to glance at anything else and god, there was a lot in this situation to get desolate or angry about, but damnit you couldn't be mad at Ford, you just couldn't.

For over thirty years, Ford's life revolved around Bill, whether she was Ford’s muse or mortal enemy. And being in a portal for thirty years? Of course Ford had some screws loose, twelve PHDs couldn't protect you from the natural mental decay that'd cause. To come back here, to think you're safe only for Bill to show her face and start the armageddon of shitposting? It wasn't surprising that Ford just……gave up.

Did he, though? Was Ford being mind controlled into this? Was he living in a reality where he wasn't on all fours with an ornate red collar choking him that had ‘good human’ written on the back? Was this the result of being human, of the brain being weird, like some sorta Russian Sleep Experiment or Yellow Wallpaper shenanigans? You didn't know, not really.

But you did know that you loved Ford, or at least cared for him enough to not put the blame on him. Both you and Bill know how he loved putting the pressure on all of his shoulders.

You gingerly placed your heart to the side, and cupped Ford's cheeks with your hands. Only then did you notice they were bloody, and you realized that there was gore nesting deep inside your fingernails with a mental sigh. Ford sunk into your touch, smiling such a happy smile and fuck you think your heart twitched.

“.....Good boy, Fordsy.” You settled on. “You're a good boy.”

You didn't know if it was Ford's tears of happiness or viscera from who knows where falling down your hands and dripping on your legs, but while yes, the sensation absolutely grossed you out, you didn't let go. Seeing Ford in this state was for a lack of better words, magnetic. It felt like a drug, an addiction you don't think your circumstances or Bill would allow you to be rid of.

But was that such a bad thing? Not when it was Stanford Pines who was giving you this exquisite rush?

“Hit the nail right on the head, babe!” Bill interjected, and with a quick snap of their fingers, they were now sitting in your lap. Your hands were taken off of Ford's face and wrapped around the triangle in some sort of hesitant hug. “He is a good boy, isn't he? And you are, too!”

With a gush of wind and a yelp from you, your heart was dragged back into your body, the hole in your body closing. You clutched your sides suddenly, insides now fucking freezing. This wasn't your organ, anymore, not really, it felt like an intruder in your meatsuit, the same way worms made nests in apples and that one unlucky time a fly flew into your ear during a picnic with you, Mabel and Dipper and the ensuing panic that came.

Dipper and Mabel, your stomach lurched with a freezing shiver. 'Let them and Stan be alright,' you prayed. A glimpse from the corner of your eyes caught a dash of pink from the bubble outside, and you felt goosebumps crawl up all your limbs like centipedes with human feet. 'Let them and Stan be alright.' you repeated with a plead.

“Gonna be honest, doll-eyes, I didn't get what Ford saw that was so special about you,” Bill mentioned with a flippant hand gesture, and though you knew you shouldn't give ten shits about what she thought about you, you still felt like shit regardless, like you were in the wrong. Did Ford feel like this too?

“But then I saw you in action, and boy oh boy, I almost turned pink by the sight of it!” Bill's arms were outstretched in a V shape, getting off your flap and floating up to your head. “And then it hit me.” They slapped themselves, and the sight of their pupil going in circles like they were dizzy was honestly sort of humorous, in a really fucked up way.

“You're the perfect middle line between me and Sixer!” She explained, stretching a limb to run it through Ford's hair, who snuggled your leg deeper in response. When did that happen? “And with us by your side, you could be a whole new extreme! Everyone likes a Mystery Trio, and we’ll be the best one this dimension could ever know! Ed, Edd and Eddy will eat their hearts upon seeing us!”

He cupped your face, just like you did with Ford. “You got potential, and me and this cute puppy here got the key, I just know it!” Their eye became a mouth, and as Bill interlocked his hands together, they placed a chaste kiss to your cheek and a more passionate on your lips and god fucking dammit, you hated the way your face flushed and how you felt Ford nuzzle your knee.

Your body only responded by scratching Ford's chin, and he responded with a squeal you could've never imagined him make until now. “Is…..is he gonna be like this, forever?”

Bill spined, an exaggerated way of shaking the head she doesn't have. “Sixer’s just as fun when he's a puppy just as when he's playing interdimensional chess with me! Which reminds me, we gotta introduce you to it sometime, we’d have a blast.” A snap of her fingers caused Ford to fall to the ground more than he already was, and you quickly heard content snores coming from him.

“It's a blessing as much as it is a burden for him. Every good pet human needs a break sometimes, and the best way to do that is to make the 'pet' part of our deal even more literal! No equations or worries in his pretty brain, all he needs to care about is pleasing the both of us!” Bill explained, summoning a cane and pointing to nothing like they were a teacher with a nonexistent blackboard.

“Both of us?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Pet human’s a good look for you, sweetheart! Pretty puppy? Not so much. Besides, I know how excited you got knowing what he'd do for you!”

“I think you're purposefully misinterpreting the context.” Trying to defend yourself, your outstretched arms hit a hard part of the human couch, and you instinctively clutched your hand in pain.

“I'm rarely wrong, honey! But being wrong to you? I could get behind that!” Bill adjusted his tie before giving you a quick forehead kiss. “When we get the kids and Oyster too, we can all be a big happy family! Like I've always wanted!”

‘Please let them be alright,’ you prayed for a final time, focusing on that instead of worrying about the unsettling look in Bill’s eye. Running your hands through Ford's hair, your heart sunk once more upon knowing how wrong this would look from an outside perspective.

You were worried that after a while, it would feel right.

[moonstruckme]

if it’d be ok to ask, would you ever want to write some sweet fluff of remus & a chubby/plus-sized reader?? i’ve been kind of struggling lately, the holidays are a difficult time for me & my body and i just personally love to think about how he’d love a soft figure 🩷

Of course it's okay to ask sweetheart! I'm not sure how this ended up going in a pre-relationship direction but it did, so the adulation isn't quite as overt but I hope it comes across anyway? Hope you're having an easier time my love <33

Remus Lupin x plus size!reader ♡ 872 words

Remus stubs his cigarette out before he reaches the front door, tossing the butt into the grass and telling himself he’ll come back to throw it out later. You don’t like when he brings the smell inside, and he’s not keen on another lecture from James on how he’s shoddily built enough without sabotaging his lungs too. When he opens the door, the apartment smells of cinnamon and sweetness. 

“Fuck, he’s home. We’re doomed now.” Sirius tilts his head back, dark hair streaming over the back of the couch, to send Remus a droll look. 

“No, no, he’ll be a sport.” James turns around beside him. “Rem, we’re trying to decide between playing blackjack”—he infuses the words with a good amount of enthusiasm, eyebrows raising meaningfully—”or doing a puzzle.” His face falls. “Which would you prefer?” 

“I’m sick of blackjack,” you say, coming into the room carrying a plate of cookies. And you’re…wow. You’re wearing a dress Remus hasn’t seen before. It hugs and flutters about your curves prettily, swishing around your hips as you breeze into the living room to set the plate in front of James like a bribe. “And I made snacks, so you’d think I get a bigger say.” 

“Doll, we appreciate you, but you’re just bitter because you lost everything last night,” Sirius says while James munches happily on a cookie. “You don’t want a chance to win some back?” 

You shoot him the sort of deadpan look you’ve only recently worked up the courage to start using on them. “We were playing with gummy bears, Sirius. I’m not too torn up about it.” 

“I’d be alright with a puzzle,” Remus says, settling into his favored armchair.

Sirius sends him a look like Of course you would, you lovesick traitor, but it’s easy to ignore when you’re smiling at him so beautifully. 

“Yes! Knew I could count on you.” The easy words warm his chest more than they have any right to, helped along by your hand on his knee for balance as you lower yourself to the ground by his feet. 

“Fine,” Sirius grouses, standing, “but I’m picking the puzzle.” 

“More than a hundred pieces,” you say as he goes to the shelf. “If we’re done in a half hour, I’m going to petition for starting another.” 

“Wretch.”

You tilt your head back to see Remus, lowering your voice. “You’ve been smoking,” you whisper. 

He grins, caught. “Don’t tell.” 

“I won’t,” you roll your eyes, patting his calf reassuringly, “but don’t get near James, he’ll sniff you out too.” 

“Thanks, love. Is that dress new?” 

You dip your head, one of your shy smiles gracing your lips. “Yeah, I got it a few days ago.” 

“It looks really nice,” he tells you, struggling to keep the reverence from his tone. “You look really nice.” 

“You think so?” You make no effort to hide how pleased you are at the compliment, your eyes wide and sweet as they look up at him. It’s one of the things he really likes about you. “Thanks, Rem. Did you get a cookie?” 

“Not sure there are going to be any left,” he notes, eyes going to where James is wharfing down another, watching the two of you sneakily out of the corner of his eye. 

You laugh, reaching forward to steal a few from the plate. Remus tries not to let his eyes catch too obviously on the backs of your plush thighs as you sit up on your knees to lean over the coffee table. It’s a substantial effort.

He thanks you when you pass him a couple, inspecting the beige and brown swirls on the treat. “What are they?”

“Cinnamon roll cookies,” you say through a bite. “Figured I’d try something new.” 

Remus takes a bite, letting the warm softness meld to the roof of his mouth. “It’s really good.” 

One of your shoulders comes up, a bashful half-shrug. (Remus wants to put his hand over it. Wrap the strap of your pretty dress around his pinkie.) “Thanks,” you breathe, like the word is starting to feel awkward and too-familiar in your mouth. 

James shoots Remus a look. He ignores it pointedly. 

“We have too many difficult ones,” Sirius announces as he flops back onto the couch, unceremoniously depositing a puzzle box on the table. “I found the simplest option I could.” 

You roll your eyes at Sirius’ bellyaching, sliding the plate of cookies closer to him and giving his hand a conciliatory pat. 

The look he fixes on you in return is disgruntlement entirely for show. (He loves you, truly.) “Can we at least have some wine while we work?” 

“I have no intention of ruining your night, Sirius,” you say diplomatically. “Bring it on out.” 

He hops back up, eager to avoid the tiresome work of building the puzzle’s foundation, and aims for the kitchen. 

“Alright, losers,” James says, dumping the pieces on the table, “get us started.” 

You tug on Remus’ wrist, pulling him down from his chair so he’s sitting beside you. One of his knees presses into your thigh. You bump his bony shoulder lightly with your soft one. 

“Help me with the border?” 

He’ll do anything you ask him to.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

The Art of Persistence

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After a long day, you return home to the comfort of your two favorite boys.

warnings: swearing, brief misogyny, Frank being adorable

a/n: For the lovely @zomtart who wanted to see something with Frank and a dog! As always, reblogs and comments fuel my writing!

w/c: 2.1k

“The art of love is largely the art of persistence.” Albert Ellis

Walking through the doors into the bakery, your heart sank. It was going to be a long day, you could smell it on the air. The humidity seeping through the cracks in the doors had made the atmosphere purgatorial. You could feel the heat clouding around you, the air laden with moisture only made stickier by the ovens inside. Blowing a frustrated breath out of your nose, you gave a pleasant nod to your manager as she slunk past you towards her office.

“Good morning to you too,” You muttered, stalking into the back to set down your bag.

You were rapidly approaching your breaking point. Each inhale flooded your senses with the aroma of toasted sesame and melted butter--the combination turning sour after a week of beligerent customers and stressful shifts. If you didn't need the money, you'd have called out. Unfortunately, those precious wages and tips were keeping you afloat right now.

Tossing a thin canvas string over your neck, you secured the flashy red apron around your waist with a tight knot, not minding the line of pain that encircled you as you yanked at the ends. Pinning your worn name tag to your chest, you spun on your heel and headed for the counter.

Today was a new day. It would be busy, Mondays always were, but that didn't mean it would be bad. Right..?

Lamentably, by the time the morning rush had ended and you were finally able to slip into the break room for a moment away from the chaos, you were confident today would be the same as every other day. In a period of three hours, it had all gone to shit. Two of your coworkers had called out, throwing you and the one other reliable employee to the wolves. One particularly aggressive customer had thrown a cup of scalding coffee at you—claiming it was burnt after the tiniest sip you’d ever seen. And, the cherry on top of the crappy day you were having, you'd burnt the shit out of your hand pulling a bagel out of the toaster for a family that wouldn't stop nagging you. Fuck your well-being, they had places to go.

The circulation to your legs was slowly being cut off by the tourniquet you'd accidentally tied your waist in, but you couldn't be bothered to fix it. Staring wearily at your bandaged hand your body trembled with fatigue, discomfort, and residual adrenaline. Pulling out your phone, you positioned it in your good hand, selecting the proper contact and crossing your fingers.

Please pick up, please pick up, please—

“Hey doll, did you need somethin'?” Frank's gruff voice crackled over the line, relief crashing over you as it did. Your body sagged at the question, the idea that you weren't handling it all alone.

“Um, yah, I was wondering if you could take Wes out for me? A handful of people didn't come in so I'm stuck working a shift and a half.” You nibbled at the skin on your bottom lip, hoping Frank wouldn't be annoyed that you asked him to care for your dog again this week.

You'd gotten Wesley as a puppy about a year ago, after a friend found him and his siblings abandoned in a nearby park. He was the last to be adopted, but you just couldn't deny his sweet little face. Unsurprisingly, the pair of you got along swimmingly.

The only problem arose at times like these, when your manager demanded that you stay past your scheduled end time to fulfill someone else's obligations. Wes was a good boy, but he could only hold out for so long without needing to pee or expend some energy. When you weren't there to play fetch or run around the block, you often turned to your partner for help.

You knew Frank adored your rambunctious pup, but the thought of adding more to his plate for any reason always made you guilty. He was busy, he had his own life and job and shit to do. Wes was your responsibility. Frank hadn't signed up for this, nor was he being compensated for his time. You really needed to hire a dog walker or something, that just wasn't an option given your slim budget right now.

“Not a problem, sweetheart. I’ll head to your place when I can. You know when you'll be home?” As always, Frank accepted the burden immediately, without so much as an irritated sigh. His readiness to care for you and your four-legged roommate never failed to sweep you off your feet.

“Around 6, if I'm lucky. I know that's late—” You rubbed at the back of your neck, grimacing as your fingers were met with warm, clammy skin.

“Don't worry about that, doll, you ain't the reason for that.” Frank reasoned, his patience only fueling the flames of guilt swirling around you.

“I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who could be at fault.” You laughed bitterly, swallowing the despair coating your tongue.

“No, you aren't.” Frank protested firmly. “Ain't your fault your boss wants you to stay, babydoll. You're just doin' whatcha can to stay employed. No shame in that.”

Your eyes fell closed as you let out a breath you hadn't meant to hold. Frank's response was tender, effortlessly caring, as if he was there rubbing your back and calming you down. Soothing your doubts with every syllable. He understood the pressure you were under and he never blamed you for it.

“Thank you.” You whispered, the longing you felt to be with him only intensifying as he comforted you from a distance.

“No need to thank me, honey. Just get home safe, yah?” The concerned edge that perpetually lined Frank's words tipped the corners of your lips into a smile.

“Ok.” You promised, bidding him goodbye.

The rest of your day slogged along like a fish attempting to swim through jello. Slow, awkward, and unbelievably messy. Each interaction corroded your dwindling social battery, wearing your patience thin. It took every fiber of your being to not scream right back at the customers as they demanded ridiculous things from you.

Oh your espresso isn’t coming fast enough? Why don’t you come around the counter and make it your damn self. 

Rolling your eyes at the annoyed tone of the customer begging for the drink, you pretended not to hear him as you steamed milk for another order. 

“Geez bitch, are you deaf?” 

You barely registered his muttered comment, but it struck you like a blade anyway. Fist clenching around his cup, your fingernails punctured the cheap, waxy paper, splattering the freshly brewed espresso over your work station. 

“Oh no!! I’m so sorry sir, I’ll make you a new one.” Shooting the fuming man your best try at an innocent, I’m-simply-so-ditsy smile, you tossed the ruined cup into a nearby trash can gracefully. With growing satisfaction, you took your sweet time restarting the beverage, hoping the asshole would burn his tongue the second you handed it over. 

Shoving the tiny cup across the counter, you cemented your beaming smile in place as the dude snatched it from your grip without a word. 

“You’re welcome, asshole.” You muttered as he slammed the door on his way out. A glance to the clock quickly lifted your spirits. 

Ten minutes. Ten minutes and the shift from hell would be over. You’d collect your tips and bolt before your supervisor asked for something else. 

Behind you, your next problem cleared their throat. Whipping around to face the uptight, blazer-clad woman, you raised an eyebrow. “What can I do for you?” 

Fumbling with the keys on your ring, your fingers hadn’t even lined the correct one up with the lock when the bolt thunked, the door sliding open. Standing on the other side of the frame, taking up most of your frame of vision with his broad stature, was Frank.

Tumbling into him, you groaned happily as his giant arms engulfed you, his stomach shaking with a brief laugh.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. We both did.” Pulling back slightly, Frank jerked his head to the wiggling golden retriever who was barely containing his excitement a few paces away.

Squeezing through the door past your hulking boyfriend, you knelt before your ecstatic canine, opening your arms for him to clamber into. Hugging your dog as he wriggled and chirped happily wasn't easy, but it made your heart swell with adoration every time you tried.

The way your dog reacted when you came home from work was nothing less than an ego boost. Poor Wes could never seem to keep still, too overwhelmed with joy and love that his tail swished wildly, shaking his whole body. Once you were within kissing distance, Wesley was determined to slobber all over you, reminding you just how much he'd missed you while you were away. These moments made all the hardship worth it.

Crouching behind you, Frank's hand slid beneath your raised elbow to scratch at Wesley's back, crowding in until you were fully leaning against him. You exhaled, sinking into his chest as he tugged you impossibly closer. Trailing kisses down the side of your face towards your shoulder, Frank rumbled with a chuckle as your dog plopped over the pile of legs, rolling belly up with an open-mouthed smile.

“Try as I might, I don't think I'll ever be the favorite.” Frank remarked, giving Wes a firm rub on his stomach.

“Well, I do feed him.” You snorted, scratching at your dog's ear. “Seems to be the key to both of your hearts.”

“Got that right,” Frank agreed, squeezing you tightly until you giggled. “Did your shift go ok?”

Puffing out a breath, you shrugged, turning your head so he could see your face. “Only got called a bitch once so, I'd say that's a win.”

Scoffing indignantly, Frank scowled. “Gimme a name, sweetheart.”

“Frank,” You groaned, not unhappily. “If I let the Punisher loose on every asshole that came through the shop, we'd have a massacre on your hands.”

“I'd do it anyway. They deserve it, treatin' service workers like that.” Frank grumbled, nuzzling your cheek.

Your hand slid up to the base of his scalp, twisting the edges of his hair in your fingers. “I appreciate it, handsome. But I'm ok, promise.”

“Did ya make good tips at least?” His question was genuine, his expression almost hopeful, but you barked a laugh anyways.

“Take a guess.” Your voice was bitter, thinking of all the ungrateful patrons you'd had in the last twelve hours.

“Hmm,” Frank pondered. “Twenty?”

“Fuck Frankie, I wish.” You rolled your eyes. “Two bucks.”

“You're shittin' me.”

“Unfortunately, my dear, I am telling the god's honest truth.” You laughed humorlessly.

“Two bucks. Fuckin' hell.” Frank scrubbed a hand over his face, clenching his jaw as his anger roiled deep within. “I'm so sorry, doll.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You pouted, feelings of inadequacy mingling with the fear of being utterly stuck in this dead-end job. “I hate asking you to help with Wes every damn day. You deserve better.”

“Hey now, don't you go worryin your pretty little head about me,” Frank scolded gently. “You're the one who don't deserve to be treated this way.”

“Don't have much of a choice, do I?” You wondered aloud, shoulders curling in as you descended back into hopelessness. “I need this job.”

“Then you'll stick with it for now,” Frank proposed. “And I'll help ya find somethin' better in the meantime.”

“You don't have to do that Frank,” You objected, letting him slip out from under you and offer you a hand up.

“I know I don't have to, darlin'. I want to.” Kissing your lips tenderly, Frank cupped your cheek as heat rushed to your face.

“Thank you.” You murmured, chest tightening with emotion.

“Anytime, gorgeous.” Frank winked at you, bringing a smile back to your face.

A piercing squeak caught your attention, drawing it towards the floor where an impatient Wesley displayed a plush toy you didn't recognize.

“Did you buy him a toy?” You asked Frank, knowing grin creeping over your face as the man blushed bright pink, shrugging one shoulder. Bending down, you tugged at the arm of the wooly sheep, pretending that you were grabbing it for yourself until Wesley ran off, squeaking it victoriously.

“Needed somethin' to do and he seemed bored, so we took a walk to the pet store on 45th.” The embarrassed man mumbled, rubbing at his nape and averting his gaze.

“Aw, Frankie,” Winding your arms back around Frank's tree trunk waist, you peppered kisses across his face. ”That's so sweet of you.“

“It's nothin', really,” Frank stated matter-of-factly.

“Sure, tough guy. It's nothin',” You smirked, clenching your arms one final time before gripping his hand. “Come sit, we can order dinner and play with Wes.”

Planting a firm kiss against your hairline, your scalp tickled as Frank smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @pone21 @ignore-mp3 @screechingphantommaker @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @vsplanet @pigeonmama

[concretecultist]

Muscle Memory

summary: “Falling out of love is the saddest thing two people can do to one another. It just means that they have grown too comfortable enough to not make an effort to try,”

pairing: introvert!reader x noah sebastian

warnings: angst, lots of crying, heartbreak

word count: ~5k

lightly inspired by ‘The Greatest’ by Billie Eilish

THIS IS ALL PURE FICTION!

A/N: i don’t know if i want to make this into a part two or leave it open ended! let me know what you think and please be sure to comment and reblog if you enjoyed 🥰

~Berry🫐

——

Things just aren’t what they used to be.

Falling in love was scary enough but knowing the one you love is falling out of love with you is even scarier.

It started with the missed date nights.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I got stuck at the studio with Jolly,”

Then it was the barely there kisses. Each night before bed, you’d give each other three kisses, one for each word in the phrase ‘I love you’

But now you’re lucky if you even get one.

The sex that was once passionate isn’t even there. He’d come home from tour and there was no sexual tension, you’d tease him and he’d brush you off.

You’d cook dinner for the two of you but he’d come home with take out and the guys following in tow without letting you know beforehand, luckily, Folio and Jolly had an appetite so your food never went to waste.

But tonight, tonight was the final straw.

“I love you,” you said to him as you set his plate in front of him. It took him a few seconds, as if he was finding the courage to say the words that at one point, slipped out to easily.

“Love you too,”

And that’s when you knew. You knew that once the ‘I’ was no longer there, it was done. After four years, the love that burned bright, completely untamable, has been reduced to embers and there was no saving it. There was no lighter fluid, no extra wood and no match to bring that fire back to life.

It was gone.

“It’s all just muscle memory at this point… isn’t it?,”

Noah finished chewing before frowning at you.

“What?,”

You could tell he knew what you were referring to but he loved to play clueless. Now is not the time for that though.

“Just… saying ‘love you’? You fell out of love a long time ago but stayed to soften the blow,” you whisper as you pick at your food.

Noah ran a hand over his face and sighed, “Y/N, no. That’s not-,”

“You can be honest with me. I’ll be a little hurt but I already know,” you smile sadly as you glance at him, “I already know,”

“I tried to make it work,” he says lowly, saying the words as if his teeth are barbed wire, as if it’s hurting him to say this, “I still am,”

“When was the last time you touched me?,” you couldn’t even look at him when you asked that question, “All the times I waited for you to want me naked and you just… looked at me as if there was nothing enticing about me,”

“That’s not how it was, at all and you know that, with tour and everything my mind has been all over the place,”

“You still could’ve given me some form of passion, Noah! Not just sex! Flowers, a fucking chocolate bar because it’s my favorite and you passed by it in the store. Something, something to make me believe you actually cared!,”

“I do!,”

“I can’t tell!,” you had to keep yourself from raising your voice, “I just wanted what I gave you. I waited and I waited and I waited. I thought that maybe it was the burnout, that you being home and resting would fix it but it’s been like this for MONTHS and I’m tired of feeling you pulling away so please, just rip off the fucking bandaid already,”

“Y/N please don’t do this. Not now. I said I was trying,” even now, his voice is void of any emotion. How do you claim to try but it can’t even be heard. Why doesn’t he care enough to fight for you harder right now.

Right now he’s throwing weak punches as his defense, he’s barely trying. It’s over.

“I know I probably won’t ever be the one for you,” you tightened your lips, trying to keep yourself from spilling the words but you need to say it, “But you were it for me and I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love again,”

The words rush out like projectile vomit, you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to make it seem like you were begging but you figured if this is it, then to get it all out, right?

“Life will never be the same. I won’t be able to listen to certain songs, eat certain foods, watch shows, visit certain cities because they’ll all remind me of you and it’s going to kill me,” you twirl your fork in the mess of noodles on your plate, finding it more intriguing than this conversation, “I was so… desperate to make it better. To be better so that you would still love me but nothing was ever good enough. You may have thought that you were good at hiding it but… I could feel you slipping away from me and it’s crushing me,”

“Baby, please don’t do this,”

“Don’t call me that”

He had some nerve. For months it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that’ but now he wants to pull the “Baby” card? He’s just driving the sword deeper into your chest and he can’t feel remorse. He can’t shed a tear because he’s the cause of all the blood. You sit before him, chest open as you give him your last breath. You deserved to say your piece before he does his finishing move.

“I’m sorry,” he swallowed thickly, following suit in picking at the food on his plate. He never wanted it to come to this. He always thought you were the one but with the rising fame, he was finding it hard to juggle. He started paying more attention to the band than feeding the energy into your relationship. He stopped trying and that’s what started all of this.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. These things happen,” you sniffle and wipe your cheeks, forking some of your dinner in your mouth to hopefully subdue the churning you feel in your gut, but all it did was make you want to regurgitate it all, “I can be out by the end of the week,”

“You don’t have to do that,” he scoffed as if what you were saying was absurd. Did he really expect you to stick around?

“You don’t understand,” you tilt your head, finally looking at him. Eyes skimming over every feature of his, that way you’d never forget it, “You could offer me this place and I still wouldn’t take it. There’s too many memories. It would just eat at me,”

Maybe you’d live out in the woods. Away from society. You didn’t like the outside world much anyway. And with you losing Noah, there was no point. Solitude was your safety blanket, always forced to find solace in your own company, it’s been a long time since it’s come to that, but, right now you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you happy,”

“Y/N, please,” Noah sighs, “It’s not like that at all,”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you love me,” your throat clenches around the words, “Look me in my eyes and tell me that I still make you as happy as the day you met me! That I’m not utterly alone in this world. That it doesn’t feel like an elephant is on your shoulders when you come home all because you don’t have the balls to tell me there’s nothing here anymore,”

“Oh c’mon!! You’re blowing this out of proportion! This can work just give me time,”

“Say it, Noah” fists banging on the table causing the silverware to clank loudly against the glass plates, “Do you or do you not love me? It’s simple!,”

You watched the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened.

He couldn’t even say it.

“You don’t love me anymore and you can’t even be a man and say it?!,”

“What good is it gonna do, Y/N?!,” he shouted over you. Frustration filling his eyes as he sends you a look of annoyance.

There it goes.

The confirmation without it being explicit.

This wasn’t your Noah anymore.

“I hate to see the fact that you’re hurting right now, why would I make it worse?! You think I want to be having this conversation? You think I want to see you shattering all while trying to keep it together? I never wanted to hurt you,”

“I just need to hear you say it so I can go about my life,” you whimper, you know it’s going to hurt like hell, but you need to hear it, “I need to hear it so I can cut the cord, Noah,”

The silence from him is heavy. This is the least he could do. If he couldn’t love you the way you needed then so be it, but he could at least do this last thing for you.

“If you ever cared about me then you owe me this much. If this is it then you need to fucking say it so that I can start healing! This is on you! Fucking say i-,”

“I love you but not like I used to,” he cuts you off, words rushing out as if they burned his tongue to speak, wearing a look of shame in his face, shaking his head and for a second.. he kind of looks heartbroken.

“I thought I could get around it, thought that if I just gave myself time that I could regenerate the love I felt, but I don’t know how. I started to feel less guilt when I missed date nights, I stayed late at the studio so that I wouldn’t have to see the sad, longing look in your eyes. I’m not who I was when I got into this. I don’t know who I am and I need time to figure it out,”

The air is stripped from your lungs and while you were begging him to say it, it didn’t burn any less. It felt like you were on display for him, bare and vulnerable and he just kept taking a hot fire poker, marking you, tainting you for anyone else.

“Th-thank you,” you nod, eyes filling with tears, his face becoming distorted, “Thank you, Noah, for your candor,”

“Y/N,”

“Can we just eat in peace?,” you cleared your throat, smiling so sadly, you’ve never been so dejected. You were embarrassed by the tears on your face as you sipped your water.

“I just want to end this night on a good note. So let’s just eat quietly. I’ll do the dishes and go to bed,”

All he could do was nod. Your requests for him were always simple and even with your heart breaking because of him, you wanted one last meal with him, one last peaceful souvenir.

Your dinner was finished in silence and you followed through with what you said. You did the dishes, you cleaned up, but, before you went to bed, you roamed the house for a bit, wanting to take it all in before this place became only a memory.

The living room, where you two had your first kiss. The lamp with the broken lampshade that you two never replaced because it added “character”, you two broke it while watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller music video, trying to learn the dance.

The coffee table that you two fought over the instructions about (you were the one reading them correctly), there’s pictures of you two on the walls but you had to do yourself and him a favor by just taking them down and trashing them.

Which leads you to the kitchen… where he taught you his secret method to dicing potatoes. The place where you two held a cooking contest, with your friends as the audience after watching a few episodes of ‘Beat Bobby Flay’, this was the place where you two sat and got two spoons to eat out of a singular tub of ice cream when you guys couldn’t sleep.

Then the dining room… my God. All the holidays in there, familial dishes displayed on the table as you two hosted parties with your friends. All the laughs, all the card games and fights over if you could put a draw 2 over a draw 4 in UNO (Nicholas says you can’t but… you say otherwise)

Then the bathrooms… you helped him paint them all, running around the house screaming after you flicked paint, getting it in his hair and he sprinted after you trying to get you back. All the decorative seasonal hand towels you gawked over in Home Goods that he only got because you laid it on thick with how “cuuuuuute they would compliment the seasonal shower curtain” that you also talked him into getting.

The porch, where you two would wake up before sunrise, he makes your tea, you make his coffee and swap cups when you two went to sit on the porch swing and just listen to the birds as they wake up. The porch that you two were so excited to decorate for Halloween and Christmas each year.

Then the backyard. Memories flash before your eyes of slip and slide you guys pulled out every summer. The barbecues you had every chance you got. Noah feeling like the cool dad on the grill and you were the sweet mom everyone loved and thanked while passing around your famous freshly squeezed lemonade with Davis always asking what your secret is and your reply always being ‘if I tell ya, I might have to kill ya’ but… now that things were ending… you suppose you could tell him that the secret is agave nectar, a pinch of salt and some sparkling water.

Then you have the basement where you’d have to pull him off the game when it got late but he talked you into playing a round, even though you weren’t the best.

Or the attic, where you guys stored things for the future… a future together that was no longer in the cards for you.

And finally the bedroom.

The first place he told you he loved you. The intimacy that happened here. The funny recollection of Noah bumping his head on the headboard in the middle of having sex and both of you had to take a break because you were laughing too hard. The movie marathons that happened in here. The competitions you two held at who could solve the murder mysteries first (he says you’re tied, but you know you’re winning by at least 3), all the late night talks, the cuddles, the stolen kisses, the tickles.

How?… how do you move on from that? How do you go about your life as if you didn’t devote yourself to this singular person for years? How do you go back to a life without him? And your friends are mutual friends so you know you’ll have to give them up.

Why does it have to be such a lonely road.

This is why falling in love is scary… you don’t get how people start over. It felt like your world was ending, things weren’t always like this. He’d surprised you with your favorite flowers, take you on trips, do karaoke. There was a time where he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Always walked down the baby aisles to look at the clothes, always texted and called when he was away. He brought you out of your shell but now, now you must retreat back in.

What could you have done? You weren’t going to beg him to love you but what was his final straw? As much as you hate this, you can’t hate him, you can’t blame him for falling out of love it happens to people all the time.

But yeah, the woods sound nice. You’ve always told yourself if love never worked out, it would be a secluded life. A garden to tend to, hunting, you wouldn’t have to bump into very many reminders as the reminders in your mind were enough. So, through the tears and aching chest, you get to packing and searching.

You weren’t sure if you were ever going to be okay. But outside of loving him, being alone was muscle memory…

You’ll make do.

———

*A Year Later*

A life in the woods wasn’t so bad. Your fruits, vegetables, and herbs were flourishing, your gourds were thriving. You had some chickens for eggs and for things you didn’t have, you always traveled on foot to the farmers market on the outskirts.

Life out here was simple but it was far from easy just yet.

Your last night at the house, Noah tried to talk it out once more but you’d told him the damage is done.

“Just give me time to get back to who I was,” he’d said.

But you didn’t have time. You didn’t need him to be who he once was because you know there are different versions someone grows to be, meaning you have to learn to love every new edition of them. You put in the effort to love every version of him but unfortunately, his idea of love just didn’t evolve with him, leaving you high and dry.

There were nights where you still called for him in the midst of your cries but then there were days where it was easier to swallow. You’d genuinely secluded yourself. No social media. You had cut off any communication with everyone, they didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and ghosting but they have to understand… you had no place in their circle anymore and it wouldn’t feel right.

If you stayed in contact with them you wouldn’t have healed, not even the slightest bit. You’d always want to ask about him, you would always hope that they would tell you that he misses you. You couldn’t do that to yourself.

There’s times where you still want to call him, see what he’s up to, but instead of sending messages or making the mistake of calling him. You write letters that will never be sent. Telling him of all that you’ve endured over the past year.

So you write and write and write as a form of closure to move on with your life.

It was a light morning. You woke up before sunrise as you always do, cup of earl grey in your hands as you sit in your rocking chair, taking in the view of the squirrels running, the birds chirping and the beetles flying by.

Things still weren’t easy but you were keeping your head above water.

A sweet noise pulls you from your thoughts and you set your mug down on the side table, it was practically empty at this point but you’d make a mental note to get it later.

You make your way through the quiet, cool cabin, hearing the noise louder. Your gown brushing against your calves with each step.

As you make your way into your room, a part of you still longs to see pictures of you and him hanging on the walls as if you were back at the house. Micro-dosing delusion here and there wasn’t too big of a deal. You were still healing after all.

Your body carries you closer to your bed and the white cradle that was attached.

Peaking your head over to see a pair of little hazel eyes looking up at you in adoration.

“Hi, baby girl,” you coo softly, lifting her up and hearing her little grunts as she stretches, “Always an early bird just like your mama, huh?,”

You bounce her in your arms as you make your way to the kitchen to pull a brick of breast milk out of the freezer.

“I had my tea and you’ll have your morning beverage shortly,”

You don’t know why you talked to her as if she could understand you, but you enjoyed it. She was calm when you talked, so you figured she liked it.

You take your time to wrap her up into your chest so you could have her close with free arms as you craft her bottle.

“This would be a lot easier if I had help huh?,” you tighten the straps so she’s snug and secure while you’re both also comfortable, “But, It’s just you and me, Sunshine,”

Noelle was short of three months old so all she really did was shine her eyes at you and smile.

“But we’re gonna be okay!,” you cheer, testing her milk on your wrist, deeming it just the right temperature before taking her to the couch to feed her.

She had Noah’s nose, his eye shape, she even had his Cupid’s bow above her top lip, she had your cheeks, your hair and your frown of concentration. She was perfect and even if you were alone you were going to be the best damn parent you could be.

A part of you knows you should have told him when you found out but… you figured he’d be too busy to take care of a baby. He still had so much time on the road, he wouldn’t give that up.

So… it was just you and Noelle, you two against the world.

She babbles as you adjust your wrap to angle her properly to feed her.

“You are my sunshine,” you sing, smiling so proudly to yourself. You’d never expected to find yourself in this position but she was your reason to keep going. To not give up.

“And no one will take my sunshine away,”

After feeding her and cleaning up the cabin, you decided to head to the farmer’s market for some fresh meat and honey.

Noelle was in her stroller enjoying the smooth ride on the path. It was only a 10 minute walk and it was a great time to look at the pretty leaves and listen to what the wind has to say as it whisks past you.

When you hear all the laughing and chatter is when you know you’re close to the market. You’re a regular so although you’ve come to enjoy the lack of human interaction, you love seeing the smile on the faces of the vendors you shop with.

When you’re off the path, you see how packed it is and get overwhelmed.

“We got this, Sunshine,” you sigh to her, smiling and booping her nose, “Your mama did this to herself really, made herself damn near agoraphobic- oh shoot, shouldn’t cuss in front of you. Don’t store that in your subconscious anywhere!,”

All she could do was smile at you, not understanding a single word you said.

“Meat, oat milk, and fresh honey. That’s it! Should be easy right?,”

You stroll to the milk truck and wave at the elderly woman in the window,

“Hey there, Y/N!,”

“Hi, Ms. Ernie!,” smiling brightly. Ms. Ernie was a sweetheart and always special made oat milk for you. She doesn’t sell it much but she makes sure to keep it on hand just for you.

“How are you and your little Plum?,” she’s always called Noelle that, when you found out you were pregnant with her she was about the size of a plum, and when you met Ms. Ernie she could tell you had a lot on your mind, so, she sat and talked with you and gave you your first gallon of milk on the house, it was a nice glass bottle with her logo on it that you now use as a vase for flowers.

“Can’t complain! She’s growing up so fast!,”

“It’s my milks doing!,” she pointed and winked, “It’s making mama strong which is making her strong,”

“You got me there. I gotta admit it,” you joked with her. It was always like this. She was like a grandma to you and the conversations were always wholesome.

After purchasing your milk she throws in a small container.

“I’m making yogurt now! It’s got that oat milk ya like so let me know what ya think! And don’t be a stranger, come into town and have some dinner sometime,”

You verbalized how grateful you were for her kindness and took her up on her offer. It did get a little overwhelming trying to cook dinner and take care of an infant all on your own while also tending to a garden and a chicken coop.

You bid your goodbyes and make your way to the local honey tent.

“Hey, Y/N!,” a young man waved

“Hi, Reid!,”

“And hello little miss sunshine!,” he peaked his head around the stroller, as soon as your daughter sees him she squeals and kicks her feet, she loves Reid. He tickles her and chuckles before standing up and waving his hand to his table.

“What are we having today? We’ve got some new flavors; Orange Blossom, Blueberry Blossom, Lavender- we even got them in sticks so you can try before you buy,” he trails off.

“Can I get my normal wildflower aaaand I’ll try the orange blossom,” you point the sample sized container.

Reid bags everything up nicely for you and you watch him throw a few of the new flavor sticks in the bag before you pay.

“Enjoy, Y/N!,”

Once you give your goodbyes to Reid, you’re on your way to the next truck. Phyllis and her husband, Dan, greet you just as they always do and you order your meats and cuts the way you like them and are all set to head back home. You’re almost to the path when you realize there’s one more thing you needed.

“Shoot, Sunshine. I need bread!,” You turn yourself around to see where the bread truck is and bump into an unsuspecting soul. Neither of you paying attention.

“Oh goodness! I’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, helping him pick up his bag of goods.

“Y/N?,”

You stop what you’re doing. You recognize that voice anywhere. After years of being near it and talking with him, it was unmistakable. You slowly raise your head to make eye contact with him.

“M-Matt?,” you hand him his fallen apple and step in front of your stroller, obscuring his view of Noelle.

“What are you- where have you been? We’ve been worried sick,”

“I can’t talk to you,” You reply with a shaky tone, “I can’t handle it right now. Just act like you never saw me,”

He frowns at your words, disheartened at how you could seem so scared of him. Not physically but mentally, emotionally even. You were doing so well and now… here is a physical reminder of your past life.

Birthing Noelle was different because while she did have features of her father, she was a reminder of the future and what is to come but seeing Matt right now pushed you all the way back to where you were emotionally a year ago.

He notices the stroller behind you but before he can get a word out, you’re cutting him off.

“No,” you grit through your teeth, “No! Don’t even,” you point at him

“Does he know?,”

“I don’t owe any of you anything,”

“She looks just like him, Y/N”

“Stop it!,” you hold your hand up to quiet him, “I have been through hell and back trying to heal. I don’t need this right now. Go about your day, you didn’t see me, you didn’t see anything!,”

“He deserves to know,”

“I can’t let him back in my life. If he finds out, he will be around and I won’t get better! He’ll take her away from me,”

“It’s not about you or him. If he has a baby, he deserves to know and she deserves a dad. He wouldn’t take her from you, he wouldn’t do that,”

“I can’t take that chance, Matt. He broke up with me, he fell out of love because tour and the fame was too much. How do you expect him to juggle being a father when he couldn’t even juggle being a boyfriend! If you tell him and he comes after me, I will NEVER forgive you!,”

“What’s going on?,” you turn to your left and see Reid coming to stand between you and Matt, “Is he bothering you?,”

“We’re friends,” Matt defends himself. This is getting a lot bigger than what you needed right now.

“Yeah? Well it doesn’t seem that way. So if you could, please leave. She looks uncomfortable,”

“Y/N, please,” he begged. He hadn’t seen nor heard from you in over a year, all of you were a family and it’s been hard to process for all of them how you were there one day then gone without a trace.

“You should go, Matt,” you hide behind Reid and wait until he leaves. He stood there waiting to see if you’d change your mind but when you didn’t, he got the hint and went on his way.

“I’ll wait till he’s gone then I’ll have Morgan watch the tent, I’ll walk you home,”

“Thank you,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you wipe your tears and you turn around to crouch down in front of Noelle, making sure she’s okay, she’s half asleep, usually you’re back at the cabin by now to put her down for a nap but this little scuffle pushed it back.

“Is there anything you need before we leave? I saw you turn back around like you forgot something,”

“I… I needed bread,”

“What kind?,”

“Pumpernickel and sourdough,”

“I’ll be right back,”

“Reid, you don’t have to,”

“I got it,” he rests a hand on your shoulders to calm you down. A lot happen just now, it made sense why your nerves would be all over the place

You decided not to protest as he was already on his way over to the bread truck. You look back to Noelle and see she’s finally out like a light just that quick.

Matt’s words began echoing in your mind as you stare at her. Why couldn’t today have just been like any other day? What are the fucking odds that he ends up at this market in particular? You know he loves them but there’s one closer to the city that’s his favorite. Why’d he have to come out to the countryside?

Was this a coincidence or was it somehow planned? You know for sure he’s going to tell Noah, that’s his best friend and you don’t know how to handle any of it. They don’t know where you live but now you’re worried they’ll come out here looking for you, which means you’ll have to ask Reid to do a weekly pick up and drop off. You know he won’t mind but you hate asking for help.

He deserves to know

It’s like tinnitus now. Just an irritating ringing in your ears that won’t go away.

But as you stare at your daughter, you realize she was an embodiment of the bright rays that peaked through the cloud that rained over your head for months. She was your sunshine.

And no one would take your sunshine away.

——————

——————

Let me know if you want a part two or if I should leave it open ended like this? 👀

Be sure to comment and reblog! Much love!

tags: @lma1986