#I’m turning him around in my brain at top speeds

[cptnwynnie]

*sets him in front of you* behold, a crow

(Uncoloured beneath the cut)

[seasprincess]

JJ fic. I'm thinking sweet smut. Like almost goofy because that's just who he is, rarely super serious. And he and reader just know each other so well that things can be goofy, even during sex and neither of them care. Unprotected (if you're good with that). Then maybe reader finds out she's pregnant. Worried to tell JJ. But he's so thrilled.

bf!jj

a/n: I loveeed this ask

warnings: smut, pregnancy, unprotected s3x (wrap it pookies), brain rot.

“Have you got a condom?” As soon as the words leave your mouth the blonde, that’s on top of you, head pops up. He looks at you slightly confused. His hands stoping the rubbing against your lacy panties.

“I thought you were bringing them?” JJ says, his blue eyes looking into yours as he suddenly remembers.

He was supposed to bring them.

“Fuck sake.” He sighs as he runs his head, this isn’t the first time he’s had to run out and buy them during this intimate moments. He just a forgetful guy.

“Fuck it.” You say, not even thinking about it twice. You need this. He’s been touching you for too long. “You’ve been edging me f-“

“Edging.” He cuts off with a little snort and a smile. He’s so unserious it’s insane.

“Stop.”

“Sorry.”

You look up at him and lean up, pressing your soft lips against his. Slowly his slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands continue to touch, rub and caress you. He’s being soft today.

But the way he’s fiddling with the zipper of his jeans is not soft nor slow. Of course it gets stuck, and he’s just there trying to rip it open. Trying to unjam it with some huffs and puffs.

While he’s doing that you’re pulling down your panties, the fold air against your core making you flinch a bit. Before you lay back down and he lays back on top of you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at you. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it without protection but every time he checks. Make sure you’re certain.

“Yes.” You say with a nod of your head. You just can’t wait any longer.

Slowly JJ enters your cunt, your tight walls sucking him in as you let at a moan. JJ jokes about his size to everyone. Saying how big he is. But they weren’t jokes.

“Fuck mama. So tight.” He says before placing a kiss on your neck. His thrusts picking up. His hand coming to your neck, not to choke you. But to make it easier to pick up his speed. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls clench around him as your eyes screw shut. Whimpers filling the space of your bedroom.

“Please don’t stop.” You breathe out as you instinctively grab onto the duvet, knuckles turning white as you look at him. His stupid face smirking down at you before reattaching to your neck.

His face practically lives there now. Hes always kissing and sucking on your neck.

JJ’s free hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing. Rubbing that sensitive bud of yours. His cock twitching inside your pussy.

It doesn’t take long for both you and JJ to cum. His thrust slowing down as he looks at you.

Both of you panting before the blonde just has to open his stupid mouth.

“That was so skibidi.”

“Oh my god.”

You can’t believe it.

‘This can’t be real.’ You think to yourself as you look at those two lines. The two lines that can either be a blessing or a curse.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat on the bath mat of your bathroom. I mean you can’t have a baby. Can you? You’re only eighteen living at your parents house dating a guy who only recently learnt the difference between there, their and they’re.

You can’t be parents.

You just can’t.

“Baby I’m here to hang.” The sound interrupts your thoughts. the very guy you were just thinking about. Knocking a tune on your bathroom door.

You sniff and dry your eyes, trying to get rid of any sign that you were crying.

But JJ heard everything.

“Hey, yn? You okay?” His concern is evident in his tone. He cares about you more than you’d ever know.

The bathroom door slowly opens and your eyes meet the blondes. Slowly making his way to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. You’re silent. You can’t speak. Don’t know what to say if you were to open your mouth.

So you just hold the test.

JJ’s eyes follow your gaze to the test. His breath catching in the back of his throat.

You want to know how he feels, is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?

Actually he’s none of them.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He says excitedly. Immediately you look at him. Shocked by this response. He’s happy?

“Yeah.” You say quietly.

“I’m going to be a dad!” He says louder and takes off his hat before standing up. Pacing the bathroom and smiling. Yapping about all the things he’s going to do. How excited he is to have a child.

You should’ve never been worried. You’re going to be parents.

[sukumna]

┌─ HELP ! THE GIRL I TRIED TO KIDNAP GETS TURNED ON !?

triggers. toji fushiguro x fem!reader ੭ perv!reader. dubcon. cnc(ish). degradation. attempted kidnapping. age gap. size kink. manhandling. choking. belly bulge. creampie. breeding kink. pregnancy kink. rough sex. daddy kink. ddlg undertones. OTT porn. grumpy kidnapper!Toji. MDNI.

word count. 2.1k

authors note. i have discovered a new found love for over the top pornhubtittle-esque fics LISTEN IM warning you know this is over da tops lmfao 😭😭. NOT proofread!!

"I’m sorry, but if a hot daddy decided to kidnap me, whisk me away to his secluded cabin in the woods, and give me the full princess treatment? Call me Stockholm royalty because I’m NEVER leaving!”

The post popped up on your feed, and you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. You tapped the repost button with a satisfying click, adding the hashtag #iwish. Because honestly? You did. Life wasn’t awful, but it was just so... ordinary. The dullness of your 9-to-5 had you fantasizing about throwing it all away—not that you ever would. That’s where the idea of a brooding, dangerous man stepping in came into play. Someone so rough around the edges, so obsessed that he couldn’t imagine a world without you. The kind of guy who’d take you because he wanted to, consequences be damned.

It was a harmless fantasy. Or so you thought—until you walked straight into it.

You were so deep in thought, you didn’t notice the human wall standing in the lobby of your apartment building until your face smacked into a back as solid as concrete.

“Oh my gosh—sorry!” you blurted, rubbing your forehead with one hand while using his back to steady yourself. When you tilted your head up, the apology stuck in your throat.

He was huge. Towering, really. His dark blue eyes gleamed with something unplaceable, and the scar cutting down the left side of his face only made him more intimidating.

“I—I wasn’t paying attention,” you stammered, flustered. But he said nothing. Just stared down at you, unreadable and silent, like he could see right through you.

“Okay... uh, I’ll just... go.” Your voice cracked as you sidestepped and practically speed-walked to the elevator. Heat burned your cheeks, equal parts embarrassment and the sheer presence of him. You pressed the call button with the corner of your phone, avoiding any more eye contact like your life depended on it. Still, the thought lingered: He looks like the type to kidnap an innocent girl.

You were awful.

But then he stepped into your peripheral vision, right next to you.

You stared hard at your phone, pretending to scroll, though the brightness was turned so far down you couldn’t even see the screen. Not that it mattered. You had no intention of looking at him again. You flicked open Tumblr out of habit, hoping to distract yourself, but of course, the first post that popped up wasn’t helpful.

It was a picture of a girl bent over with the caption: "Daddy doesn’t care if it hurts, baby. Just take it."

Oh, God.

Your thighs clenched as the elevator doors opened. You stepped in quickly, refusing to glance back, but he followed. When he didn’t press a floor, your curiosity—and nerves—spiked. Was he visiting someone? You didn’t think you’d ever seen him before, let alone on your floor.

You stole a glance, and your breath hitched. His sharp eyes were already locked on you, glinting like he was enjoying your discomfort. The scar added to his rugged appeal, and the faint streaks of gray in his black hair made him look effortlessly mature. His build, though—not overly chiseled but solid, with a layer of softness that screamed ‘former athlete turned something far more dangerous.’

A small, nervous laugh escaped you, breaking the tense silence just as the elevator dinged. Floor six. You bolted out, legs moving faster than your brain could process, keys in hand before you even reached your door. But just as you found the right one, a large hand covered yours, stopping you cold.

The world seemed to narrow as you felt the press of a solid chest at your back, pinning you to the door. A rough, calloused hand clamped over your mouth, and the voice you’d only imagined growled low in your ear.

“Scream and I'll fucking bash your head into this door.” His husky voice harshly whispers in your ear. Your body stiffens, a shiver running down your spine as your lips part in surprise. You nod quickly, “Good. Is there anyone in here and don’t lie to me.” You shake your head no as fear and anxiety and something else paralyzes your body and mind. “Unlock it.” The hand covering your mouth cautiously moves to hold you by the neck and he lets go of your hand enough for your shaking fingers to unlock your door. You bite down on your lip as heat pools low in your belly—exactly the reaction you’ve imagined in this scenario so many times. His hand tightens slightly when your fingers slip over the keyhole, and a soft sound escapes your lips before you can stop it.

This is real, you remind yourself.

And isn’t that exactly what you wanted?

“Get inside.” He shoves you in your small apartments and you gasp and suck in a huge breath. You gasp, sucking in a shaky breath as you step forward. Your phone and purse hit the counter with a clatter, but you don’t dare make another move.

The sound of the door clicking shut is deafening. You turn slowly, eyes lifting to meet his. He’s blocking the door, his broad frame casting a shadow that stretches across the room. You should be playing the damsel, screaming for help or scrambling for the emergency stairs just outside—but instead, your feet stay rooted, your heart pounding as you stare up at him, waiting.

He smirks, his boot slamming the door shut with a bang that makes you jump. “Why aren’t you scared?”

You swallow hard, refusing to answer. The space between you disappears in seconds, his footsteps deliberate as he backs you toward the couch. Each step makes your skin prickle with anticipation, your breath hitching when you feel the edge of the couch press against the backs of your thighs.

“You should be scared girl,” he growls, his hand snapping up to grip your neck. The weight of it—rough and commanding—makes your knees tremble. You bite your lip again, suppressing the moan building in your throat, but his sharp eyes catch every flicker of your reaction. He looks down at you with furrowed brows. His leg slides between yours, forcing them apart, and you let out a shaky breath as his thigh presses up against you. The pressure is maddening, igniting a wave of pleasure that you can’t hide. The sound you’ve been holding escapes—a soft, breathy moan.

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer. “You dirty little slut,” he murmurs, his words a low rumble that sends heat racing across your cheeks.

“Please...” you manage to whisper, though even you’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Please what?” His grin is predatory, his fingers tightening ever so slightly against your throat.

“Begging for more from the man who just threatened you?”

You shake your head, a flustered “No i-i want you to stop.” slipping from your lips, but he arches a brow, smirking as he looks down.

“Then why are you grinding on my thigh?” He chuckles, the hand against your throat shaking you around. Your eyes widen when you realize that he was right, he wasn’t the one rubbing against your pussy, you were the on rubbing against his jean clad thigh.

“Dirty girl...are you looking at my at my cock? Do you want me to take you against this couch?” He mock gasps and you half moan half cry.

“No—I don't want it.” You say in an almost childlike voice. But you do, you want this man who was about to do God knows what to shove his cock in you.

“If you say you want it and I'll be gentle baby.”

You shake you had and bring your hands up to the one wrapped around your neck You try and pull it off you, but he just watches you struggle with a grin. After a few minutes of watching, you cry and scratch at his hand he finally has enough and flips you over the couch. “You asked for it little girl.”

Before you know it, he's ripping your panties off and shoving two fingers into you. You scream.

“Fuck, you're fuckin’ soaked. You hear that? Your pussy’s talk talkin’ to it’s new owner.”

And you do hear it, hell you feel your wetness gliding down your thighs. Your fingers curl into your g-spot and you moan. He’s fucking you better than any man has ever fucked you. You clench around him harder when he finds his rhythm—fast and hard, his hand slamming around the outside of your hole and your clit getting frication from how hard your body drags across the couch.

“’m gonna come!” You moan trying to meet his pace and throw yourself back onto his fingers.

“Fuck—comin’ on a man's fingers and you don’t even know his name.”

And you don’t mean to say it but your so horny and the tittle just slips out from imaging this scenario over and over again.

“’m coming Daddy!” You squeal and your pussy contracts around his fingers. He doesn't even give you a chance to come all the way down before he’s throwing you face down on baby blue rug in your living room, freeing his cock.

“Fuckin’ hell. Aren’t you just the perfect little fuck doll.” He pulls you up by the hips and nuzzles his mushroom tip in between your pussy lips. He rubs from hole to clit a few times and you moan into the carpet, arching your back even more. He feels so big, like it’ll gonna hurt. “Say it again.”

“Daddy!” He shoves the tip in with some effort and before you can think he’s pushing himself balls keep into you. It hurts so good when he pulls halfway out and pushes back in. It’s so girthy, the width of your wrist. It’s too much for you.

“C-can’t take it daddy, ‘s too much!” You cry out, and you know your face looks a mess, mascara running down your cheeks.

“You think I care little girl? I say what, you can push me out I'll stop.”

Sniffling you do as he says, and push but every time your restart he pushes back into you, leaving you a blubbering mess. You can't push him more than two inches and it’s starting to feel good again. You give up when he grinds up against your ass, his hands fondling almost sweetly with your ass as he was watches you.

“Done playin’ hard to get now?”

You nod.

“Words.”

“Yes, fuck me daddy.”

Hands on your hips he does exactly that, pounding you so hard into the carpet you know you’ll have friction burns on your face and knees by morning. His heavy balls slap hard against your clit, and you can’t help but imagine all that come stored in them spilling deep into your womb. The thought makes you cream around his cock and Toji almost comes at the sight of the white ring sitting near the base of his cock. Grunting he tightens his grip on your hips flips you over. His hand goes to your clit and he curse at the bulge his cock is making in your stomach. One hand rubbing your clit the other presses down on the bulge.

“Daddy!” You scream, legs wrapping around his haps and heels digging into his ass.

“’m gonna breed this pussy so good little girl. Make you mine.”

“Yes please! Put a baby in me daddy!” You arch your back and roll your eyes into the back of your head as your come hard on his cock. Toji follows suit, spilling his come deep int you. You fall back on the follow utterly fuck out and exhausted. You don’t even try to open your eyes when you feel him start to pull out of you. Instead, you smile and raise your arms “’m ready to go back home with you now.”

[arrenjo]

Part one is here

Summary: Your apartment floods and you do your best to make it on your own, but when Robby finds out he takes matters into his own hands; part two

Back | Next

A/n: the only true part two so far but leaving all the unresolved tension without so much as a kiss seemed kinda rude. I’m an angsty gal at heart so of course it has to be dramatic. Also my first time writing almost-smut, be gentle ;D srry for lack of gif, I know it’s more aesthetically pleasing but I couldn’t find one that scratched the itch, yk?

Content/trigger warning: Panic attack portrayed, plot with a bit of almost-smut sprinkled in. 18+ only, minors DNI!!

The following morning, you woke up with your head on Robby’s chest. Your hair splayed in every direction across the burgundy fabric of his shirt, his chin resting on top of your head. His thumb made small circles on your shoulder blade over the fabric of your oversized t-shirt as he held you. Your legs were entangled with his, your bare legs against his thin sweatpants. You felt safe, secure. You didn’t move for a moment, almost afraid it was a dream. You opted to lie still for a moment to try to assess if he was awake yet.

“Good morning,” He murmured into your hair after a moment, lips brushing the top of your head. Your stomach did a flip as you tried to decide whether to look up at him or not.

“Mm,” You said softly, willing yourself to keep your breathing even, trying not to think about the fact that you were literally in Robby’s bed.

“How long have you been awake?” You asked.

“A while,” He responded simply, still rubbing small circles on top of the fabric of your tshirt. Neither of you felt particularly inclined to move, this was as close as you had ever been to him and it was comforting to know he at least wanted you close like you did him, but his silence unsettled you.

Last night, the silence had been comfortable. There was something different about this morning though, almost as if there was something hanging in the air. Your stomach started to turn at the thought of him regretting letting you be here. You could have easily just fucked up, arguably, the best and most important work relationship you had.

Had he not wanted to sleep in the same bed? Had you asked too much? Did he not feel the same way? The touches and the coffee and him running his fucking thumb over your lips in the supply closet like he was considering fucking you right there sure seemed like there was something between the two of you, but maybe you were wrong.

I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, your brain said relentlessly on repeat.

Your breathing started to pick up speed and tears welled in your eyes.

I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up,

You were in your own head and you needed to get away. The panic was starting to set in and it was impossible to coordinate your movements, you needed to get away. You started to push him away and he tightened his arm around you.

Away, away, away, your brain said.

Don’t let him see you like this,

You tried to push him away again and choked back a sob.

“Hey, hey,” He said as soon as he realized what was happening. He quickly placed his hands on your waist, under the hem of your shirt and just above the waistband of your shorts, fingers making contact with your bare skin. He lifted you in one smooth motion to partially on top of him and to eye level. You looked away from him, desperately trying to blink the tears back. Your breathing turned ragged, desperate for air. He took your chin in his hand with one hand, the other arm still securely around your waist, and moved your chin so you were looking at him.

“Where is your head at?” He asked, his voice low.

“Michael-“ You choked out with a sob. Robby almost physically winced, hearing you desperately say his name like that was almost too much. Robby moved to completely under you and braced the back of your head with one hand, the other still around your waist tightly. He quickly sat up with you, your legs on either side of his torso. He held you close to him as your body racked with a full-on sob.

“Hey, I’m right here. I’ve got you,” He soothed. The hand attached to the arm around your waist started rubbing circles on the small of your back. He stroked your hair with his other hand and said your name in the same soothing, low tone as you sobbed again.

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, managing to get the words out between sobs.

“No, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. Everything is fine. Everything is perfect,” he soothed you. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He repeated. After a moment, he used one hand to gently tilt your chin up to him again, forcing you to make eye contact with him. His brown eyes searched yours for any sign of what might be wrong. He looked at you, pleading, desperate for an explanation.

“I shouldn’t have asked and now you regret it and I’m sorry,” You pushed the words out in one breath before you dropped your head and pressed your palms to your eyes, breath hitching on another sob that you were desperately trying to control. “Fuck, Robby, I’m so sorry,”

It took Robby a solid ten seconds to process what you had said before he reacted. He pulled your hands from your eyes and grabbed your chin again.

“You think I regret this?” He asked in a low, steady voice. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about waking up next to you? Thought about having you in my bed?” You were silent as you took another steadying breath, heat flushing your face and chest. You were suddenly very aware that you were fully in his lap. Your hands found the fabric of his t-shirt on either side of his body and you gripped it tightly.

“Long before Pittfest, long before that first time I acted like a jackass,” He continued.

“That was the best I’ve slept in a long time.” He said, eyes locked on yours. “I think I was still a little disoriented,” He admitted through a half hearted chuckle that vibrated your body. He let his smile fall, “I never want you to think that I regret this, not for even a second,” You nodded, processing what he was saying, breaking eye contact with him for the first time in several minutes.

“Hey,” He said softly after a beat of silence. You looked back at him again and he slowly pressed his forehead to yours, noses touching. You closed your eyes and one hand reached up to stroke his beard. He let out a small ‘hmm’ at the contact.

“I could never regret you,” He whispered. You took in a ragged breath at his words, it was all you could do to maintain what little composure you had regained.

Your mouth was centimeters from his, his breath hot and wet on your lips. His hands moved to under the hem of your shirt, on either side of your hips. He squeezed gently and you moaned softly, feeling his dick almost immediately harden beneath your weight. The sensation sent waves of heat up your neck and down your abdomen, and it lingered between your legs.

You tilted your head up just enough for your lips to ghost over his and that tiny bit of contact seemed to be all the permission he needed, his lips crashed into yours, hot and desperate. One hand found the hair at the base of his neck and you pulled him closer as his lips moved frantically against yours. His tongue darted into your mouth and you moaned against his lips. His hands squeezed your hips again and you shifted your weight into him, creating friction between you and his erection. He let out a low moan against your mouth and started trailing kisses down your jawline and your neck, stopping to lick and suck with each individual kiss.

“Robby,” You moaned, desperate for more. His lips found yours again after a moment and his hands moved upwards under your shirt as he claimed your mouth. Your breathing was ragged and so was his. In one smooth motion, he laid you back and was on top of you, your hands started to glide up his shirt when the shrill alarm on Robby’s phone went off, startling you both.

“Fuuuck,” Robby groaned, dropping his forehead against your collar bone. You both had completely forgotten about work and didn’t have time to finish what you had started. You laughed humorlessly.

“Figures,” You said, stroking his hair.

“We can be late?” He offered with a grin, looking back up at you. The proposition brought a real laugh out of you.

“Uh huh, and we would never ever hear the end of it. Can’t you imagine both of us walking in at the same time, both late? Jack Abbot would be insufferable.”

“It would get the rumor mill started for sure,” He tugged the neckline of your shirt down and pressed a kiss to your collar bone. His beard combined with your heightened senses had you clenching your jaw. You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

Maybe being late wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The shrill alarm interrupted your thought process again and you groaned. “No, we have to go,” You said, mostly to yourself. Robby laughed and pressed one more kiss to your lips before getting off of you and walking out of the room. You whined at the sudden loss of contact. You laid there for another minute, trying to compose yourself, when Robby reappeared with a set of folded scrubs in his hand that he offered to you. You immediately sat up, your brow furrowed.

“I did some laundry last night after you went to sleep, thought you might need some clean scrubs.” He explained. It was all you could do to keep your mouth from dropping open.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You started.

“I know, I wanted to.” He said, you took the scrubs out of his hands and smiled up at him.

“Thank you,” You whispered, standing up to press a kiss to his cheek. Robby wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, let’s go. The more I think about it, the more I realize that you’re right and Jack is about to give us hell.”

[sightseertrespasser]

Too Deep, Too Shallow part 2

Welp, turns out there’s more to write.

Credit to @keferon for creating the AU and to the many wonderful folks who come up with ideas to flesh it out.

Much like the first humans to discover the wonders of honey, Blurr discovers the miracle of cured ham.

———————————————————————

Swerve dreamed of Blue.

The human had dreamed he was working on an air conditioner unit on the roof of a building. The sun was scorching, and the sudden gusting breeze was a relief on his poor back. He only turned to face it when the entire city began to scream.

Swerve saw a wave.

A wall of water.

It looked liked someone flipped the island 45 degrees and the whole thing was sliding into the ocean like a cookie into milk. Victim to vertigo and unable to move a muscle, he could only watch blank faced as the water just kept coming.

Cars swept by at highway speeds. A skyscraper near the shore tilted and fell into the current like a tree trunk. Chills sparked up his spine.

Swerve’s trance broke when reality set in that his rooftop wasn’t immune to the disaster coiling closer. When the water reached his feet, he climbed on top of the AC unit, breathing too fast. And when the water reached him again, he realized he was going to die.

In that moment, Swerve finally thought to call someone on his phone, anyone. Just to not be alone.

Swerve held onto the unit with one hand, and dialed with the other.

He called his former college roommate.

The water reached his wrist.

He called his coworkers.

The water reached his elbow.

He called his boss.

The water reached his shoulders.

The worst part, Swerve learned about himself last night, was that he really couldn’t think of anyone else to call.

Swerve rolled over in his sleep. Chest and throat painfully tight. Eyes stinging.

Exhausted and refusing to wake up fully, Swerve used the little part of his active consciousness to breath normally. He had practice.

Is it me?

It’s difficult not to think that, even if it isn’t true.

When you try everything to connect with other people but it never seems to stick. Never goes anywhere. For all his efforts to socialize in public, he’d only managed make one friend that actively sought him out, and it was a friggin’ fish.

Still, Swerve thought he was content with his life. He was okay with only having work friends. Happy with his media collections. And getting to visit Blue at the marina.

He thought he was okay with it.

To be liked but not wanted.

Swerve rolled over again, half conscious. He forgot to close the curtain last night and tucked his face into his arm to block out the light.

Stop it, I’m not having another existential crisis before my alarm goes off. Bad thoughts don’t count when you’re exhausted and definitely not before 7 am. That’s for business hours only.

Swerve tried to slip back into deeper sleep. He liked to daydream a little to block out the more invasive thoughts. He had a few well fleshed out oc’s and settings to mentally play around with for that reason. Did he want to explore the space ranger one? Or maybe the superhero group. Fantasy had been nice recently.

Instead, Swerve dreamed of Blue

He went back to the end of the nightmare. His fingers were numb and stinging at the same time and his predicament felt like an impossible trap where there was no escape, just delaying the inevitable.

It felt so horrifically real. Every muscle ached, pleading to give out. Each time they did, Swerve would be overtaken by an insurmountable desperation to live. And he always clawed his way back to the surface. Fighting to breath.

All he wanted was for the nightmare to end.

Eventually, his brain took mercy on him.

Blue appeared. Close and calm. The wild mer circled him like a shark. For a few seconds he wondered if he’d committed some kind of Fish-sin and now Blue was here to enact vengeance on his soul. Via teeth.

Instead, Swerve got the surreal experience of Blue talking to him. Or that’s what it felt like. The sheer amount of adrenaline saturating his brain kicked Swerve’s rational thinking all the way down to “terrified puppy” and he was ready to accept anything that got him out of there.

Blue was gentle. Blue wanted Swerve to let go. Blue didn’t let Swerve go. And that’s all that really mattered.

Swerve settled into the dream-memory of quiet clicking and slowly drifting. Now that the specter of death wasn’t present, it was a genuinely comforting end to a horrible nightmare.

Swerve sighed. Then his face scrunched. He picked out a rock digging into his hip and rolled onto his back.

Why is my bed hard?

All of the air was punched out of his chest at once as something huge, heavy and wet impacted him from above.

A crackling wheeze was all Swerve could manage as he was shocked into full consciousness.

He was a on a roof.

And Blue was on him.

Chittering.

Swerve froze, brain not really up for processing what the fuck was happening.

Happened.

Happened and is continuing to happen.

“Oh fuck you’re real.” Swerve started getting his elbows underneath him to sit up.

Blue clicked again, looking from Swerve to back over his shoulder.

“Oh my fucking god this is real.” Swerve took in the twenty foot high water surrounding them. Shattered buildings in every direction and the complete and utter lack of human life.

The fins across Blues body suddenly flared wide, as the mer whistled shrilly and flopped off of the human, dragging himself further from the water.

Swerve had his head in his hands.

“You’re real! That was real! I was going to die and you saved me! Oh fuck me my apartment was on the first floor.”

Blue had pulled himself to the other side of the roof and screamed, pointing at the water.

At that moment, Swerve witnessed a mass of tentacles and teeth breach the surface. Barbed hook’s digging into the flat rubber roof to haul its mutant body after its prey.

Swerve didn’t remember getting up, or crossing the majority of the roof, but when he reached the chest high ledge of the adjacent connected rooftop, he did remember Blue.

The mer had his back pressed against the wall. Eyes wide in terror as it looked desperately between Swerve and certain death.

In the next second, Swerve had his hands under the mers arms, swinging them upwards in a graceless arch. Screeching, Blue thudded onto the second roof.

Swerve scrambled up after the mer, leviathan lashing at the air behind him. The predator was unnaturally persistent, crushing the lower roof under its weight in its pursuit of its prey.

The long asphalt roof stretched before him, the mere possibility of safety dangled in the broken windows of the apartment complex abutting the shopping district’s row of lower buildings. He could make it. He could make it if he ran.

Swerve had a choice.

Oh who was he even kidding?

“Please don’t bite me please don’t bite me please don’t bite me.”

He scooped up Blue like a newlywed bride, and IMMEDIATELY had to abandon that hold in favor of carrying him like a tuba. Snarling, the leviathans teeth cut into the roof’s edge, shaking the building like a dog on a car bumper.

Swerve stumbled but maintained his forward momentum. Because the alternative was flattening a terrified wild animal made of knives and a hundred pounds of pure muscle.

Blue rewarded this decision by gripping more securely onto Swerves shoulders and not tearing into his soft fleshy throat like an emergency hot pocket.

Together, they moved frantically through the blasted clear window. Swerve landed hard on his knees, sodden carpet soaking back into sun dried clothing. He stumbled to his feet, splashing through the ruined apartment in a desperate search for stairs upwards.

The tsunami tore through every barrier it encountered, leaving every doorway busted wide open. The leviathan realized their preys means of escape and dove into the water.

Swerve skidded around the corner into the hall as the leviathan began thrashing against the floor beneath him. Carpet tore and wood splintered, tentacles snaked out blindly to catch anything they struck. Retracting violently back through the floor whenever one got a hold of something solid.

Swerve could feel his pulse in his tongue. Finding the emergency stairs and taking them two at a time, he didn’t stop until they reached the top floor and even then only after reaching the other end of the hall.

The leviathan screeched far below, slamming into the foundations one last time before finally going quiet.

Swerve slid down the wall as his legs gave out.

The wounds of his scrapped raw fingers had reopened, smearing a small amount of blood across Blue’s dark scales. Indistinguishable from the mers own shallow bleeding from the scratches along his fluke.

He couldn’t feel his legs and wished he couldn’t feel his arms. Every joint had locked so tightly Swerve thought he could hear them creak when he tried and failed to let Blue go.

Luckily, the mer either didn’t mind or was in a similar position. Human-like arms rigid around his shoulders, Swerve could feel the rapid pace of his heart pounding through Blues back, pressed against his wrists.

Eventually, their limbs relaxed enough to drop into uncontrollable shaking, allowing them to release each other. Swerve slid sideways along the wall, trying not to swallow his tongue, until he was prone on his shoulder.

Blue rolled off his lap to lie flat onto his back. Staring wide eyed at the ceiling.

The mer lifted one hand above his face, watching it shake. Before dropping it to his chest again and breathlessly laughing.

“Don’t-” Swerve swallowed a threatening rise of bile. “-tell me you’re a-“ He coughed. “-an adrenaline junkie.”

Blue lulled his head to look at him and smiled, twitching his hand limply.

On the second attempt Swerve realized he was waving.

“Hi Blue.” He waved back. “How’s it goin.”

After a good ten, fifteen minutes of laying on the floor together, Blue rolled back onto his front and crawled up to the window at the end of the hall. Pulling himself up the ledge, Blue looked out onto the city. The mer made a brief noise somewhere between a throaty clicking and a wail and thunked his forehead on the window sill.

“You okay?” His entire body protested any movement but Swerve pushed through to shuffle on his knees up to the window.

Blue didn’t lift his head, but did raise a hand to point out outside.

“Oh.” The view would have been breathtaking if Swerve had any to spare.

The apocalypse had redecorated. Skyscrapers leaned on each other like drunks leaving the bar. Boats nested on top of sturdy trees. Wreckage and ruins blocked up streets and ally ways creating oversized tide pools filled with garbage and displaced sea life.

But the ocean.

“Oh buddy.”

The ocean was miles away. Pulled far beyond what a normal tide would ever go down to. Getting back to the sea would take crossing the entire city, circumventing the blockages, avoiding those freakish monsters, and fuck knows whatever other hazards.

Blue slid to sitting, rubbing his face. Swerve thumped down next to him.

“Hey.” He nudged the mer. Blue looked up, blinking at him.

“I’m gonna get you home okay? Just wait here for a minute.” And Swerve shakily got to his feet.

The top floor looked like the water only reached halfway up judging by the water damage. Still enough the break any locked doors but the dry half gave Swerve some hope. It was eerily quiet. The only sounds were the lapping of water below, the creek of the building itself, and the distant cry of seagulls.

Swerve tripped through broken homes. The water damage wasn’t as bad here as the other floors but it had still been enough to wreck anything below waist level.

It felt wrong. Going through the belongings of strangers. It felt more wrong that no one was here. Swerve strained his ears, desperately listening for boats or helicopters or any sign of human life.

Silence.

Where is everyone?

It took some scrounging, but he managed to find everything he was looking for. Some packs of water bottles, packaged food, basic first aid supplies and most importantly:

Blue looked unimpressed by the hiking backpack.

More concerningly, the mer looked wilted. Barely lifting his head up and putting it right back down into the pillow of his arms, Blue moved lethargically.

“Hold on! It gets better.” And Swerve took out his pocket knife that he managed not to loose during the flood and started cutting a hole through the bottom of the bag.

Blue tilted his head like watching Swerve at a forty five degree angle would make it make more sense.

“Tada!” Swerve did a little jazz hand.

Blue raised an eyebrow ridge. Swerve chuckled awkwardly.

Hiding his embarrassment, Swerve let it lie for now and focused on the food instead. His stomach audibly growled and he felt his mouth start to water over a bag of chips and a can of spam.

Exhaustion and hunger really do make for the best condiments.

He used the pocket knife to cut thin slices of ham to sandwich between small handfuls of chips and shoved it into his mouth without any preamble.

Blue perked up at the sound of food, pulling himself over to the cans. The mer poked at the cured meat cube, cringing like he expected it to jump out at him. Gingerly, Blue drew a talon across the surface, spiraling off a corkscrew of spam. Plucking it delicately up, Blue chittered at the human before hesitantly eating a piece.

The mer paused. Blue looked Swerve dead in the eye, “Whistle-click-click.” and proceeded to sweep all of the spam cans closer to himself like a pile of poker chips.

“I was gonna, oh okay. Fish tax. I guess.” Swerve chuckled much more genuinely as Blue started digging into the square can. “Apocalyptic Ponyo still loves ham.”

Once the two had their fill, Swerve packed up their remaining supplies into the extra pockets of the hiking pack.

Now all he had to do was stuff a wild animal into a bag and carry that around for an indeterminate amount of time.

Yay.

“Ooookay Blue, we need to cover a lot of ground and I need a better way to carry you, so would you pleeeeease get into the bag on your own so I know you’re okay with this plan and won’t claw my face off for trying?” He smiled sweetly.

Swerve slowly shifted the backpack to lie next to the mer lengthwise. Blue was licking off a couple of his fingers and idly inspected the opening of the bag, looking through to the small hole at the bottom.

Blue stopped, glancing to his own tail and back to the pack. He locked eyes with Swerve, clicking and shaking his head side to side.

“Great! Gonna take that as a yes.” Swerve started positioning the opening of the bag towards the mers tail.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Blue made many new and interesting noises that Swerve suspected where curses upon his life, his ancestors and any potential descendants.

Strapped back to back, Swerve carefully rose to his feet, begrudging mer in tow.

“Comfy?” Swerve steadied himself at the top of the stairs. Blue hissed at god.

By the time the human got to the end of the stairs, he’d mostly gotten the hang of his new center of balance. While it was a far cry from dry land, the debris had stuffed tightly enough between the buildings that Swerve could pretty much clamber to the adjoining rooftops. So far so good, and no sign of Satans Goldfish either.

Breathing hard but evenly, Swerve made idle conversation. “You know, I recently got into this new anime?” He huffed, distracting himself from the burn in his legs. “It’s about this mecha pilot that gets launched into space and runs into a bunch of robot aliens.”

Blue whistled and clicked lightly whenever Swerve paused. The human waiting until the mer was done before continuing to infodump. Soon they were in a back and forth double blind conversation about whatever came to mind.

Eventually they reached the end of the “land” and couldn’t go further without reentering the water. Swerve hesitated. “Um, Blue?”

The mer twisted around slightly in the pack, making a questioning trill.

“Can you do that thing where you carried me again? I uh, never really learned to swim.” He dipped a toe into the water. The parking lot they were standing on provided a gradual slop downwards.

Blue clicked again, patting Swerve on the hip. The human got the idea and turned around, walking backwards into the water. Muttering “I am full of stress hormones and micro-plastics. Nothing wants to eat me. I am full of stress hormones and micro-plastics. Nothing will enjoy eating me.”

He felt Blue tug on the extraneous buckled straps that were pulled over the mers shoulders, causing Swerve the lean backwards a bit more.

The trust fall into the water proper went surprisingly smoothly. Despite Swerve involuntarily wheezing at the drop.

After a few test swishes, Blue swam, carrying them onward. Maybe it was because of the full body exhaustion, but once they got going, Swerve felt uncannily like he was drifting down a lazy river. It was almost kind of relaxing.

The sun shone bright, refracting crazily off of broken windows and rippling water.

They passed under the uppermost branches of several sturdy trees. The shade a nice reprieve from the heat of the day. They passed by a huge metal hand sticking up out of the water and Swerve got the clue they were swimming through one of the local parks near that shady ass aquarium. He managed to direct the mer generally towards the sea and Blue adjusted course.

The pair floated along.

Swerve drummed his fingers on the backpack straps, “Why do you like me?”

The mer trilled, carrying his own half of the conversation independent of Swerves actual input.

Swerve let his head lightly rest against the back of Blues. Staring up at the apocalypse and feeling the weight of his very dead phone in his pocket. “I mean. I just kinda want to know what I did right? For you to want to come out here to save me.”

Blue chittered back for a while, ending in a quick series of whistles.

“And let me stick you in a backpack.”

Blue suddenly flipped them over, dunking Swerve into the water and sending the human scrambling.

Sputtering and snorting water out of his nose, Swerve got an unexpected hold onto tin slats. Wiping off his eyes, he saw they’d reached another barricade for him to carry them across.

“A little more warning next time?” He shook the water from his hair.

“We’re not exactly facing the same direction.” Swerve pulled them up onto the pentagonal roof, looking like the upper portion of some kind of restaurant.

Blue at least had the decency to sound halfway apologetic when he clicked this time. Swerve hummed appreciatively.

Standing up, he spotted the signature glass dome of the city mall. The structure as a whole looked like it held up fairly well. The malls second story veranda looked like it lined up pretty decently with the top of a couple of shipping containers that’d gotten stuck between the restaurant and the mall.

Path clear for once, Swerve splashed through the ankle high water into the building, hopeful they’d find more supplies or even other survivors for a change.

Once inside, it took minute for Swerves eyes to readjust to the change in light.

The shaded interior looked like if Atlantis had shopping malls.

Beams of sunlight streamed in from above, giving the space a dreamy feel. Seaweed wrapped itself around every railing like tangled garlands. Small schools of fish window shopped below the surface. There were even a couple of napping orcas in the central atrium.

“Haaaa” Swerve could have swallowed his own throat.

There is ONE napping orca in the central atrium, being held up by another VERY MUCH AWAKE orca who just locked eyes with the intruding human.

Swerve saw the full body flex the mer had at spotting him. Eyes wide and burning with a barely contained oceanic fury. Said eyes darted rapidly between Swerve and the still sleeping mer cradled in their arms, and the dilemma was so clear it could have been written in the stars.

Option A: Let pod mate sleep.

Option B: Murder.

Please pick option A please pick option A please pick option A.

The decision was made for them when, curious as to why Swerve stopped, Blue turned around and let out an ungodly shriek.

The second mer startled awake, thrashing at the water as their pod mate clicked so loudly Swerve thought they were gun shots going off.

He booked it for the broken escalators, repeating their mad dash from that morning.

Orcas can’t climb stairs! We just need to hide on the top floor until they get bored just like before!

Swerve felt the escalator shake behind him. The formally sleeping orca mer was using biceps the size of Blue to haul themselves up after them.

“Oh COME ON!” Swerve double timed it, reaching the top of the stairs just in time to see a fountain of water explode onto the third floor. The whole building rattled with the impact of the first goddamn killer whale landing directly in the way of their escape.

“𝒽ⓔ𝕐 ώα𝒾𝐭 ᵘᑭ!”

The base boosted, distorted imitation of human speech that went off behind him set whatever remaining sanity Swerve had on fucking fire.

He started laughing. Wheezing hysterically. Backing away from the two massive mers until he bumped into the inner railing of the veranda.

The mers closed in together. One snarling siren like whistles, the other mimicking human speech.

Swerve was yanked backwards, and fell through open air.

He took what he hoped wasn’t his last breath.

And then the moment they hit the water, Blue dropped into a whole new gear.

Swerves only warning was rising WHOOSH of water before he was being dragged under at highway speeds.

There were a lot of things Swerve experienced in the last 24 hours that he’d never thought of nor wanted to experience. The newest bullet point to add to that list is what it feels like to go watering skiing with a back pack instead of skis.

The froth of seawater prevented him from opening his eyes or taking a breath. Swerve tried to count the seconds but lost track when the dark blotches of color over took his vision.

He tried once, to reach down and grab at Blue, begging for air. For mercy. But the human couldn’t push past the current.

And when the ringing in his ears drowned out the beating of his heart, it all went dark.

Swerve dreamed of Blue.

———————————————————————

Swerve thinks the orcas want to eat them and one is specifically possessed by the devil.

Blurr, who hasn’t slept in over 24 hours, thinks the fish police are here to arrest him.

Prowl thinks a human has abducted a well known celebrity to put in another aquarium.

And Jazz is over stimulated as all hell but has a gut feeling all of them are wrong.

-SSTP

[hysteria-things]

based off of this

BEREAL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the bereal notification goes off when you and your boyfriend are in an intimate situation.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, spanking, hair pulling, dumbification, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: DID NOT MEAN TO RELEASE THIS LATE BUT I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT SINCE I REACHED THE POST LIMIT AGAIN😭

but anyway matt/chris will be back tomorrow!

nate’s phone blows up with notifications on the nightstand from the DA BOYZ group chat with nick, matt, and chris — but he’s too busy to check it now.

moaning loudly, your hands clutch at the pillow your head is lying on. your knuckles are white, eyes rolling back so far in your head. it’s been forty-five minutes, and you came twice already.

you guys are making a fucking mess, but neither of you cares at this moment. his and your cum combined slap against your thighs, a string of arousal connecting and breaking each time he thrusts into you. you mumble something into the pillows, but it’s so incoherent that it sounds like a moan.

his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, the other one running up and down the small of your back. he’s so deep inside your cunt that you seriously don’t know how he does it.

drool drips down your chin and onto the sheets below, body becoming rag doll-like when your grip starts to loosen and you start to rock violently to the speed of the way he’s plowing hard into you with no mercy. “there she is; getting fucked stupid on my cock because that’s all you have to fucking live for.”

only groaning in response, you start to see specks of white every time you blink. your pussy is so tight around his dick that it makes it hard for him to move. nate’s so balls deep that it feels like he’s in your throat.

silenced screams go past your lips as the headboard bangs rapidly against his bedroom wall, his tip brushing against your g-spot for the nth time tonight. he moans, grabbing your ass and jiggling it before slapping it. “might have to put my kid in ya.” he hisses, giving it another hit. “i need to breed this pussy full. you let me use it so well.”

catching a glimpse at his lit phone screen, he sees a specific notification pop up:

⚠️time to bereal⚠️

2 min left to capture a bereal to see what your friends are up to!

he smirks, grabbing his phone and opening the app. he points the camera to his face as the time counts down. eyes hooded and lips swollen, a handful of hickeys decorate his neck in red and purple, along with a few scratch marks on his chest.

pressing the white button at the bottom of the screen, he grips the top of your hair to yank your head off the pillow. he quickly turns his phone around, the back camera getting your face into view.

nate waits patiently a few seconds for the picture to render, letting go of your head so he can upload it. this is the first time he’s seen what you look like all night.

strands of hair are disheveled or stuck to your forehead from sweating, eyes crossed with your tongue sticking out like a dog. that poor brain of yours thinking only about nate’s cock fucking the shit out of you.

“i’m cu-mming.” you hiccup, shaking violently as you’re overstimulated from three hard orgasms. the boy behind you licks his lips, stopping deep before spurts of his hot cum fill your womb.

seconds later, reactions come flooding in on his post. some are from peers from high school, while the rest are from the crew.

madi’s eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth.

nick looks disgusted, his face half out of the frame.

matt’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth hanging open in complete shock.

last but not least, chris smiles widely at the camera with a big thumbs up.

matthew.sturniolo: oh brother

nicolassturniolo: NATHAN DOE.

user: she’s living the dream, i’m afraid…

madifilipowicz: 😟

user: HE HAS BITCHES???

christophersturniolo: get that pussy bro😝

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @stellarsturns @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2

[nymphomatique]

reader asking forcing. loser!miguel to tell her his desired fantasy and since she’s feeling a bit nice that day she decides she’ll indulge it for him <3 (i feel like he’d so be into roleplay hehe ><)

nonnie ur brain.. hold on.

cw: fem/dom reader, sub!miguel <3, slight mentions of shoe play, talks of punishment and like SLIGHT exhibitionism, miguel being a simp bit what’s new, a kiss 🤭, on da sweeter side, and as per usual: definitely not proof read lol enjoy 💋

a/n: i went tame for this but suggest what role play ideas u have bc miguel is DEFINITELY into that. like imagine him acting as readers maid.. in the maid outfit.. omfg.

“miguel?”

“ah! y-yes?” he answers between a moan. you’re currently sitting on your bed, miguel sitting upright facing you on your floor as you trail your heeled foot up his crotch.

“tell me something,” you start, cocking your head sideways and leaning forward to look at him a little closer. as you lean forwards your breasts spill over the the corset top you have on. you begin to use more friction with your foot, and his moans become more feverish. “what’s your fantasy? entertain me, i’m in a good mood tonight.”

and a good mood it was, you stumbled into your dorm at around 2 in the morning, miguel waiting patiently for you outside your door, kneeling in the empty hall just like you asked, when you texted him rather drunkenly from the club that you wanted to play with him.

miguel’s face flushes, his chocolate brown eyes hiding behind his glasses. “i- ah.. f-fuck. i don’t know..” he trails off, bucking lightly into your red bottom.

“you have one more time to lie to me before this turns into a ball busting session, dweeb,” you spit, halting your teasing and looking at him intensely. you can visually see him fold under your stare. “w-well..”

“go on,” you encourage, slowly starting your teasing with your heel back up.

“i’ve always wanted to- ah! to take someone on a dinner, all fancy. a-and in the middle of the restaurant, she starts to..” he halts, his lips tightening and his face going red.

“i said go on, miguel,” you say nonchalantly, but your heel applying pressure to miguel’s crotch. he lets out a sharp shudder and a string of curses under his breath, and then resumes.

“what we’re doing now.. tease me all dinner, and th-then punish me in the restroom for getting excited..” he sighs out, the pain and shame sending waves of pleasure to his pulsating clothed cock.

“yeah? punish you how? tell your mistress what you want,” he looks at you and moans, your foot increasing its speed and pressure.

“you- you’d make me beg to cum. i- i’d beg you to- fuck. to let me touch you. let me ache to please you, to serve you mistress,” he spill out from his lips, his eyes heavy and breathing shallow from your pleasuring.

“you really are pathetic miguel,” you laugh out. you stop teasing him and stand up, watching him look up at you from his place on the floor. you slowly saunter over to him and step each foot on either side of his legs, lowering yourself down until you’re sat on his lap, directly over his erection. you grab his hair and pull his head back, hovering your lips over his own. “but you know what?” you whisper, looking at his red face and tousled hair. “i like it.”

you go in for a kiss, your lipstick transferring to miguel’s perfectly shaped lips as you kiss him sensually. you pull apart from the kiss and look at him once more, him sitting there utterly dazed and confused, this being your first kiss. you get up and walk to sit back on your bed, looking straight at him, a small wet patch staining his pants. “get out of my room.”

he doesn’t hear from you until the following evening, a text message from you reading:

philemon at 8pm sharp. take a fucking shower and wear something other than hand me downs tonight.

[captain-tch]

Oscar Worthy Performance (Logan Howlett x GNPlatonicTeenReader)

You get caught shoplifting, and a stranger plays the role of disappointed father

It dawned on you as you were staring at the security guard, him speaking into his radio, that you had royally fucked up. His face was one of stone, his eyes hardening every time his gaze fell back on you, which was often. It was like he was expecting you to bolt. You didn’t blame him, in fact ever since the security guard shouted out down the aisle you had been seeking the perfect opportunity to run. Unfortunately, you weren’t blessed with super speed. Even the usual charming smile you armed yourself with didn’t work, your innocent false words pleading that you didn’t do anything wrong also fell on deaf ears. 

It was official - you were fucked. 

Your only saving grace was that the guard was that conscious of you running, he didn’t risk moving you to the office where escaping was even less likely. You were standing under the fluorescent lights of the supermarket, your coat being weighed down by your responsibility, cursing your minor mistake that brought you into this position. If you weren’t so shit scared of getting caught, you’d cause a blackout - but then he would know you were a mutant. There would be no hiding how your hands would glow as the light was absorbed, or how your eyes would flash with renewed energy. Right now the worst you could get is a slapped wrist, if you played this right, but if he found out you were cursed with the x gene? You’d be lucky to escape alive.

The radio buzzed. The security guard turned to answer it, one of his eyes permanently fixed on you. Sweat was beginning to coat your palms and your heart was jumping out of your chest. You frantically wracked your brain for another option, something other than revealing your powers, only to fall short. Your chest heaved upon realising how royally screwed you were.  

“We gonna call the cops?” 

You swallowed. Anxiety gripped you tight - you couldn’t afford to get caught by the authorities. You were living under the radar and that was attention you definitely didn’t need right now. You were deaf to the response on the radio, your whirling thoughts overriding all of your senses. Your mission would fail, the people who relied on you would suffer and you’d be thrown into prison, surrounded by mutants ready to establish themselves as an authority figure by picking on the little fish, namely you. 

“Roger.” The security guard turned his steely gaze to you. “You’re coming with me.” 

“Please, don’t do this.” None of your words could pass your lips, the words stumbling out. The man just rolled his eyes. “I don’t show sympathy to dirty thieves.” 

A slight weight was lifted from your shoulders. At least he only thought of you as a troublesome teenager, desperate to get the attention of their parents with some petty shoplifting. At least he hadn’t realised that at the exact time you were slipping the tin of beans in your pocket, the lights flickered for a beat longer than usual. 

“It’s my first time, okay, can’t you just give me a slap on the wrist and send me on my merry way?” Your lips curved into a wavering smile. 

The man scoffed. “I’m sure you tell everyone that.” 

“I promise - I’m not lying.” You were. 

“Tell that to your parents when they come down here.” His hand found your shoulder, gripping harshly. He spun you around, guiding you through the store. 

Panic rolled over you in a wave. Your eyes scoured around the store, desperately taking in the surroundings to help you evade your fate. Your gaze danced over the patrons, it was late at night and the store was barren. A young woman pushing a pram, a businessman staring at the vast display of alcohol, and then there was him. A man with a face of thunder, his brown hair twisted in the corners giving him the slight imitation of having horns. His white shirt was stained, a flannel thrown on top not in an attempt to hide the mess, but to emphasise the size of his shoulders and his arms. An idea hit you like lightning and in your desperation you did the first thing that came to mind. 

“Dad!” You shouted, drawing attention to yourself. The two men turned to face you, the businessman dismissing you with a single glance. But the grumpy man, he stared you down, brows tilted slightly upwards. You smiled desperately at him, hoping to convey your message in your slight grimace. “I thought you were at the site all day today.” 

“Um…” He looked over his shoulder, as if looking for an escape. 

A light flickered overhead, your eyes flashing slightly. The man stood straighter, looking between you and the security guard. He cleared his throat awkwardly, walking towards you. “Um…”

“Are you this dirty thieves father?” The security guard demanded. 

The man’s brows lifted as he took you in. His assessing eyes danced over your half worn combat boots, caked in dirt, and your jeans that had holes that might be considered fashionable if it wasn’t for the seams falling apart at the hem.  “Thief?” 

You shrugged. “Alleged.” 

The security guard squeezed his hand on your shoulder. “I saw you slip something into your pocket.” 

“That could have been anything.” 

“Sure.” The guard rolled his eyes, sharing a pointed glance at the stranger you claimed to be family. “Come on sir, you’re coming with us.” 

The guard carried on the journey to the office, his grip slightly too tight on your shoulder. You squirmed under his grip, trying to grab your saviour's gaze to no avail. He looked as though he was being led to his funeral. You wish you could express your gratitude but his eyes were fixed firmly downwards, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

A door was opened, and they were led down several corridors. They were ushered into a small room, screens adorning one wall displaying all angles of the store. Fuck, you thought, they updated the security since the last time. No wonder you got caught - you were normally so careful. 

“Take a seat.” He gestured to the two chairs, and you slumped into it. Your ‘dad’ took to standing against the door frame, his arms crossed.  

“Look, this is serious. You were caught stealing. You could go to jail.” You couldn’t look at him, busy worrying at your lips. “But you’re lucky it’s me on shift, I’m a bit more friendly than the other guys in this place.”

“Hate to meet the others,” you muttered under your breath. The guard stared pointedly at you. An apology was breathed out with little feeling behind it. 

“Let’s see what you stole, and we can go from there.” 

Sighing, you reached into your pocket, dropping tin after tin of beans on the table. With each tin the guards eyes softened, and you knew as dire as the situation had seemed, you struck gold. You discreetly pinched your leg, hard, and mustered tears to appear. 

“Daddy’s been working so many hours at the site, and we can still barely afford the rent. I couldn’t bring myself to eat someone else’s trash again - I couldn’t.” You hiccuped, impressing even yourself with your acting skills. “I couldn’t be hungry anymore, is that a crime?” 

You turned your weeping eyes to your ‘father’, allowing your lip to wobble. “I’m sorry, I know you work so hard. I’m sorry I let you down.” 

Your ‘dad’ had a face of stone, nodding his head silently. The guard looked at him expectantly, and ever so slowly, your ‘dad’ walked towards you. He rubbed your shoulder, the only action that could seem paternal whilst limiting any major contact. 

“I’m sorry too.” He grumbled. You thanked the higher powers on your side that the man was joining in on the act, making it all the more believable. For the first time since you had been caught, you genuinely thought you might be okay. 

The guard sighed, pushing a box of tissues towards you. You made a show of taking a few handfuls, wiping aggressively at your eyes and blowing your nose. 

“Look, I know it’s hard. I’ve been there myself. But you can’t do this. I’m going to take the tins back, I’m sorry. There’s some food banks in the area, let me write them down.” The security guard sent you a soft smile, then disappeared. 

You collapsed back into your seat. Your anxiety was ebbing away and all you could do was thank whatever god was watching over you. You eyed the tins on the table, contemplating if he had counted them before leaving. Your fingers itched to slide one back in your pocket; you fought the urge, not wanting to end up worse off.  

“Quite impressive, have you ever considered a career in acting?” Your ‘dad’ commented, distracting your intense gaze on the food, his lip quipping up. 

“Hollywood couldn’t handle this.” You sighed. “You might not want to though, your role of loving and doting father leaves something to be desired.” 

“I didn’t even know I had a child until ten minutes ago.” 

“Funny, my dad said that too.” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why the fuck did I even get involved.” 

“Only you can answer that question, bud. All I know is I’m fucking glad you did.” 

He opened his mouth to respond, rapidly closing it when the door opened and the security guard reappeared. He handed you a list with writing scribbled on. The man then turned to your ‘dad’. 

“I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to step up. Your kid needs you more than ever.”

“Noted.” 

“You guys can go - but if I see you here again, I won’t be as kind.” 

“Thank you sir.” You nodded your head respectfully to him, sniffling for extra measure. 

You led the way out of the office, the guard leading you both to the staff entrance of the store and closing the door behind you. 

The pair of you walked away from the employee entrance, turning the corner. You fell against the wall, feeling a huge relief wash over you. You released a big breath, a bright smile lighting up your face. All of the muscles relaxed in your body and the sweat on your palms started to dry. “Wow, that was close.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Excuse me?” You huffed a laugh. “I carried that performance, you were merely a supporting actor.” 

“Yeah? From how I see it, without a ‘parent’ present you would be speaking to the cops right now.” 

“Whatever.” You shrugged. “Wanna smoke?” 

“I’m not going to promote teenage smoking.” 

“I’m gonna smoke whether or not you join me.” You dug into your inside pocket, producing a sealed packet of cigarettes. You received a look of disbelief and awe. “What? I wasn’t going to give up all the goods.” 

“Fuck it, I’m already an accomplice.” He offered his hand, and you handed him a cigarette. “Got a light?” 

You fumbled around in your pockets, foraging and finding an old match box. You handed it to the man, waiting patiently for him to light his cigarette. You pulled another one out of the pack, bringing yours to the end of his, watching as the light of flame spread to yours. You jumped up the wall, perching so that you rest your elbows on your knees as you took a drag.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, bringing the cigarette to his lips and exhaling smoke. You copied his motion, silence falling between the two of you. 

“Why me?” 

“Huh?” 

“Instead of the other guy in there.” 

“Isn’t it obvious? He was all prim and proper, you don’t exactly look like a law abiding citizen. Criminals stick together, well, sometimes.” You frowned, finally giving yourself a moment to actually think about what could have happened if he didn’t intervene. “But you didn’t have to - any reason why?” 

He looked at you, then at his hand. You noticed the line of scars perfectly indented across his knuckles. A flash of silver shot out of those scars, then retracted back into his skin. “It’s us versus them, right?” 

“Right.” You shook your head in disbelief - as if you not only managed to get someone to go along with your ploy, but that they also managed to be a mutant. 

“Well, as nice as this was, I’ve got places to be, trouble to cause and Oscar’s to win.” You stubbed out your cigarette, jumping off of the wall. “Am I ever gonna learn your name, or am I going to have to keep calling you Dad?” 

“Logan.” 

“Well, thanks old man. I owe you, big time.” You started to make your journey home, tucking your hands deep in your pockets, when you stopped at the sound of Logan’s voice. 

“Wait.” Logan called out. “Answer me this - of everything to steal, why beans?” 

Your expression fell. “I’m sure you can figure that one out, pops.” 

“There’s a place -” You cut him off, turning your back to him. 

“No thanks, I have my place, you should go back to yours.” You were almost disappointed when you made it to the end of the road and you hadn’t heard a response. But you didn’t turn around, determined to find another store to rob so you didn’t go back home empty handed. 

Logan waited until he couldn’t see your form anymore, the sting of the cigarette burning his fingers as ash crumbled around him in a halo. He shook his head, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot. “Fucking kids.”

marvel masterlist

[marsmaximoff]

i’m begging you. namgyu x reader, it’s lights out and namgyu needs to relieve his stress, SMUT!!! but consensual duh

🌑; lights out * ✧₊☽⋆˚

content warning: fem!reader. smut. unprotected. exhibitionism. praise/degradation. light choking. fingers sucking. getting caught. cum swallowing.

word count: 1k

author's note: oh, anon, if only you knew the way i smiled when i read the request.... anyway, first time posting smut (you can tell), and can we talk about how fucking weird writing it is? i did what i could, also english is not my mother language so bare with me. im sorry y’all 😔😔

dividers by @cafekitsune and @strangergraphics <3

voting leaves the room plunged into an eerie environment. you lay awake, haunted by the hopeless souls, when some ruffling is heard and your bed sinks slightly. you don’t need to ask to know who it is.

“you good?” he doesn’t have to utter a single word to show his agitation. the sounds he lets out are proof enough.

“i can’t fucking fall asleep. those x motherfuckers are riling me up the wrong fucking way.” he scoffs while finally lying down. uneasiness is clearly staining his voice, and you know that tone; he’s on the edge.

“you high?” he snuggles closer to you, pressing his back to your chest before playfully whispering in your ear, “how’s that feel to you, baby? mhm?”, his hard-on against your lower back. 

“fuck” 

“exactly,” he purrs. “i’m desperate as fuck.” needy hands begin to roam all over your body. “and you’re gonna help me.” he leaves a sloppy kiss on your neck before rasping out, “right?” his fiery breath has goosebumps exploding on your skin alongside a certain pressure starting to arise on your belly. still, you’re surrounded by hundreds of strangers all piled up mere inches away. “can’t you get out and jerk it off?” his frisky laugh intensifies your arousal and you feel yourself getting hotter with every word he mutters. how can someone’s voice be so damn attractive? “why the hell would i do that when i have you right here? come on, be good for me.” his hands move underneath your shirt, and the dangerous mix of his alluring tone with the fire the physical contact is igniting on your back while he caresses it with his fingertips turns your brain into mush, making it almost impossible to stay sensible. 

“shit, gyu. here? now?” you make an incredible effort to fight your lust, “shhhh. don’t you wanna help relieve my stress?” and he shatters all of it, sending your remaining clarity away.

“fuck, yes.” you turn around and immediately yank his face towards yours, finally tasting heaven-like relief. “good girl,” he pants against your lips. “you feel so much better.” the kiss is messy and hungry. desperate. like you need it to survive. and in a way, he does. 

when your tongues make it too laborious to breathe, he pulls back with your lower lip caged in between his teeth. “why don’t you ride me a bit, mhmh? make me forget those assholes.” you don’t think ‘no’ could ever be a possible answer, not to him. so you nod, already craving that pleasure, and he quickly removes your green sweatpants. he doesn’t bother prepping you or even pulling your underwear down, tho, he’s way too gone for that. he simply grabs you by the hips and makes you sit on top of him. nothing else. the work is yours to do. 

without hesitating, -you want this way too bad-, you take his reddish, stiff member out and give it a few strokes. he grunts and you can't take it, so pushing your panties to the side, you sink in.

“yeah, that's what i'm talking about.” he gasps, totally unconcerned about the circumstances, as always. who cares about the other players when your pussy is taking him so deep? you however, bite your lips to hold back a moan while moving up and down, following a leisurely rhythm, not wanting to get too carried away. although the speed doesn't really matter. he feels wonderful, and a few seconds are all he needs to have you seeing stars. “you're so wet, such a perfect slut for my dick.” you shiver at his praise and he chuckles, gripping your waist with such passion it hurts. but only because you have to suppress your burning satisfaction.

“ride me harder.” the sight of him lying back, talking to you like this with the way he’s staring, has you instinctively bucking your hips. the pace escalates, and you slowly let loose. the grinding turns into bouncing, whimpers become full moans, and you're both so fazed the bed screech accompanying your noises goes unnoticed. 

you use his lean arms as support, gently tracing his perfect veins as a comfort gesture. “god, you’re so good…” your voice is groggy and strained. “i know.” you could get pissed at his overly confident attitude, but truth is you find it hot as fuck. he knows no one could make you feel like this.

“i- i’m- i’m sorry, could you please be quieter, if it’s not too much trouble?” 

it takes you a moment to process what’s happening, your lewdness acting as a blinding veil, but namgyu answers for you. 

“give me bullshit like that again and i’ll break your face, whore.”

the random woman is astonished as well as appalled. she apologizes again and seemingly leaves her bed, the footsteps dying out.

“fucking cunt. bothering me when i’m railing my girl...” he pushes you down and gives you a harsh kiss, the new position snapping you out of your trance. “what the fuck? ur still hard?” you ask through moans. “goddamn, if you knew how fucking good your pussy feels, you’d understand. ‘ts a damn drug.” at that, your walls clench, his sweet talk getting you every. single. time. and it motivates him to change positions, laying you on your side, as you were initially. but you're still a bit weirded out, and he notices. how could he not, with how well he knows your body?

“focus on me. don’t want you thinking ‘bout that or anything that isn’t me and the way i’m fucking you, got that?” his hand travels to your throat and adds a bit of pressure.

“yeah.” 

his girth perfectly stretching you out turns off anything that's not his cock, his movements get harder and deeper due to the still present indignation. “i’m close, gyu…” you cry out, yearning for that release. “of course you are, with how fucking much you’re leaking,” those words only make it worse. “i think you were just as desperate as i was, huh? such a perfect nympho for me”, he groans, thrusting faster. your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder, his dick hits you with such precision it’s hard to even keep your eyes open. slender fingers climb up your skin and reach your lips, which you instantly part letting out a low moan. with that, he pushes them inside, pressing down your tongue. and you suck them with all you’ve got left, licking and slurping while he fucks you in both holes. 

the double pleasure takes control over your body and you start to notice your shakiness. “gyu…” you babble, the capacity of forming full sentences is gone, not only because of his hand. “cum on my cock like a good girl, come on.” he demands against your neck, and your brain listens, as usual, sending throbs and contractions through your hips. your belly drops as if from a plane, he abandons your mouth eager to hear your falling over and you don't disappoint, squeezing his biceps while panting for air. “oh, fuck…” the aftershocks keep going while he pulls out, “damn, you drenched me” you’re not in your right mind to fully comprehend yet, “now, i don’t want it to go to waste, so you’re gonna swallow me up real good. yeah? not gonna drop any?” you answer by sticking out your tongue, and before you know it, the thick, salty, warm liquid fills your senses. you swallow and hear him sigh, relieved.

“shit, i’m spent. you’re such a good stress reliever.”

he falls asleep on your bed and ends up snuggling against you :3

❤️‍🔥 want more namgyu?

[webbluvrsugar]

thinking about frat!rafe Cameron and his inexperienced best friend

Thinking about him laying on your bed, his cap already tossed around somewhere on your room, your head against his stomach as he talks about some random girl he made out with earlier and how bad it was, asking you for your opinion when you can’t give any, you just stay laid down and answer things like “uh-huh” or “totally” that it’s clear you’re not paying attention, but in your defense, it’s hard to.

It’s hard to pay attention when his arm is lazily placed on top of your stomach, his veiny hand caressing you through the thin fabric of the tee than hangs of your shoulder, when his cologne is so strong that invades your senses, when his voice makes your brain turn into mush and you can’t reply to anything, when the only thing that makes you focus is when he asks you a direct question “what about you? Any bad experiences lately?”

Now, Rafe is not dumb, he’s asking out of possessiveness, he knows you’re a virgin and he knows you hate talking about this stuff but he needs to make sure you kept yourself that way, and when you answer “not having any experience at all” he knows he’s got you.

He pretends to be shocked by the fact, compliments you and tell you how beautiful and smart you are and that it’s a surprise that no one has fucked you yet, and that’s exactly how he managed to trick you to lay on your back, legs spread open for him as his thumb toys with your clit and his finger curls inside of you.

“Shit…you’re so tight around my finger, look at that.” He speaks as if you’d actually look, but you’re too busy covering your mouth and tilting your head back when he rubs soft circles around your clit.

“Gonna let me inside that virgin pussy, pretty girl?” He teases another finger around your entrance, and when you nod, he pushes it in harshly, without any display of patience, your moan already serves as an answer, but he wants to hear it from your lips. “Use your words.” He says, scissoring you open with his two fingers, the wet sounds of your cunt only turning you on even more.

“Y — Yes, Rafe.” You whimper, eyes rolling back when he curls them inside on that perfect spot, your back slighly arching.

He smirks through the corner of his lips. “Don’t even think I’m gonna fit,” he scoffs, the pace of his fingers speeding up inside you, making your hand run down to fist his hair.

“Maybe ill just have to break you in.”

[pullupinarari]

The house feels haunted [LH]

author’s note: it took me 6 days to write the biggest angst this blog has ever seen. i’m sorry if it turns out to be shit, but this made me feel miserable so I hope yall enjoy it 😭

warnings: there are mentions of cheating and a miscarriage happens in this fic. it’s nothing too specific but there’s mentions of blood. it’s devastating, heartbreaking, and it has a sad ending. if you don’t want to read it, don’t feel the need to announce it. read at your own risk‼️

• masterlist

wc: 13 673 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

You were never a fan of storms. You never really enjoyed hearing the sound of the thunder hitting the ground at a forceful speed, with a power that seemed as if it was fed by anger, making you shake in your sleep as if you didn’t feel safe inside your own house. 

The way the lightning would appear like a flash inside the four walls of your bedroom, making goosebumps appear on your skin as your brain would let you know: it’s hitting. It can hit anywhere near you right now, and it can set everything in to a fury of flames around you, burning you alive if you’re not lucky enough to survive, to make it out alive. 

Usually during those nights, your boyfriend Lewis would hug you tighter, kissing the top of your head nonstop while your body would tremble in his arms. He would softly hum a lullaby to you, his fingers playing with your hair gently, letting you know that everything is fine, that you don’t need to be afraid: and if anything happens, he would be by your side to protect you. 

In the middle of waking up and falling asleep a countless amount of times during the night, you could always find the warm comfort of his frame, faithfully glued to yours, ready to embrace your figure a little closer if needed. 

For the past few days, it seems as if your life is being chased by a storm though. After Lewis came back home from being away in a work meeting abroad, your boyfriend seemed distant. His eyes wouldn’t shine as bright as they used to when he looked at you, he was quiet most of the time when he was near you, as if he wasn’t happy to see you again. The intrusive thoughts in your mind were quick to come up with a thousand different scenarios of everything that could be happening for him to be acting so weird lately. 

“Maybe he is preparing a surprise?” , “but it’s not my birthday, nor our anniversary”, “OH, maybe he is going to propose? Maybe he is nervous because he has been thinking about it?”, your mind asks and answers at the same time, your fingers playing with the promise ring on your finger. 

A few weeks before leaving for his work trip, your boyfriend mentioned a couple of times how he would like to “take the next step” with you, how gorgeous you look when wearing white, displaying a teasing wink on his features while the most charming smile would show on his lips. So maybe, he kept thinking about it while being away, missing his girlfriend to the point of wanting to fly you out to his hotel room. 

The anxiety of the unknown would carve on your stomach, trying to read his mind, until he figured out that he needed to be honest with you. 

Ironically, it happened on a rainy day. The drops of water hitting the windows would announce the bad omen surrounding the four walls of the house you have been sharing with Lewis for three years now. 

- I need some space, Y/N. I can’t keep doing it like this. I need time for myself, I need to live my life on my own for a while. I just need to be alone. - he said to you, his words careful to leave his mouth, as if they had been thought and rethought a thousand times, until Lewis found the best way to let them out. With a soft tone, his voice barely above a whisper, it almost felt like he wasn’t breaking your heart in half. 

But he was. It took you a second to process the message he was passing you, but once your brain received it, your instinct was to hold the man’s face in your hands, your fingers caressing his cheeks as your tear-filled eyes would look inside his chocolate ones, trying to read him again, to see through him, to try and understand why this is happening. 

- Lew? No, no, baby please! Why do you want a break from me, from us? Was it something I did? I can do better, I promise, I will try not to be so clingy if that’s the problem, I’ll try to- 

Cutting you off, Lewis’ hands gently grabs your wrists, removing your fingers from his face, distancing your bodies a bit as you got closer to him while trying to find a way to save your relationship. 

- This is on me, Y/N. You did nothing wrong, I swear you didn’t. I just need space for myself, I need to dedicate some time to my mind as well, and I need to do it on my own. - his voice is growing hoarse as he records all the tears swelling in your eyes, falling on the skin of your rosy cheeks, growing redder due to the fire collapsing inside of your body.

You weren’t expecting it. Never, in a million years, were you ready to hear your boyfriend saying that he wants to move on with his life, without having you by his side. Maybe you were wrong, maybe all those nights where you would feed your thoughts with illusions of him proposing to you, deceiving yourself so you can keep your mind busy, denying all the negative possibilities that could happen, maybe that’s what brought you here.

You still don’t know why he wants to be alone, now. Maybe you were always way too busy in your own fantasy to see the signals that might have been there all along, only to be ignored by you. But as he distances himself more and more from you after those last words left his body, you knew that nothing would make him change his mind. 

Packing your clothes with your eyes full of tears was the most hurtful thing that you have ever done. Having to leave the only place that has felt like home for so long, where you would feel safe, with the only person who was able to love you the way you are, with no judgments, no restrictions, no interruptions. 

With a simple bag over your shoulder, having no force in yourself to pack everything right now, you show up in the living room where Lewis was sitting, waiting for you to finish packing. 

His face is laced with coldness, as if it’s almost indifferent for him to watch you leave, to forget about the four years of his life that he has shared with you, three of them while sharing this place where you would call your shelter, the four walls that would protect the both of you, in the embrace of the other’s arms, feeling seen and understood by one another. 

Taking one last look at him, you could swear that you would grab his hand and take him with you to see the sea, through your eyes. The ones where the waves of emotion don’t stop crashing against your skin, leaving indentations along your features, staining your cheeks with their shape as the salty water keeps running until it reaches your chin. 

The deafening silence fills the room. Neither of you knows what to say, but neither of you feels the need to say anything. Just by looking at your face, Lewis can already feel his heart clenching in his chest, and the endless tears leaving your eyes are enough for him to discover how great the sadness of this world is. 

There’s no point in telling you that he is sorry, or how he wishes things could be different. He wouldn’t mean it, anyway. So without a word, he just sees you walking out the door, and out of his life - his brain still trying to figure out if it’s temporary or definitely.

You expected more from your life than to walk out of your ex-boyfriend’s house with just a bag in your hands, a tear stained face and a broken heart. You expected more than to find yourself muffling your cries on a pillow, lying your sore body on a cold bed, one that you don’t recognize, that definitely doesn’t feel like home, the way your sheets used to. 

Staying at a hotel room, all you can do is let it out now to the four walls that don’t know you yet, but are about to become your most truthful confidants. Right now, you don’t want to call your parents, your brother, you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened. You grabbed your most important belongings from Lewis’ house, and you will go back to pack the rest of your things once you clear your mind and figure everything out. 

But now, it’s just you, the pillow you’re hugging close, and the raindrops hitting the window, your eyes watching them dancing in the glass, while your own drops of sadness leave your body as well. 

The sky doesn’t clear, it’s been heavily grey for some days now, the clouds occupying the entire space on the highness of the atmosphere, never indicating that they can disappear soon. When you look outside, it’s like you get a visual representation of your love life, of your feelings, a storm that’s slowly forming in the midst of your core, changing the promises of your happy future forever. 

And even as the days go by, the agonizing pain in your chest doesn’t cease. Crying yourself to sleep every night, struggling to focus on your work without crumbling down into a puddle of tears. 

You haven’t been eating much, always feeling drained to your core, exhausted all the time, not even feeling like getting out of bed. What’s the point in trying to take one day at a time, if your mind just continues to repeat the pain in your heart, relieving all the words that left Lewis’ mouth when he kicked you to the curb. 

Your body feels weird, weak, but you’re too heartbroken to care. You feel too lifeless to listen to the signs that something is happening with you, constantly ignoring the way your stomach feels off, how you often get nauseous just by looking at food, to the point of ignoring the fact that your period is late. But it’s okay, it’s just a consequence of all the stress and emotional turmoil that you have been going through, your body will - hopefully - go back to normal in a few weeks. 

But it doesn’t. And it’s not until your brother is handing you a pregnancy test - that he went to buy at a nearby pharmacy, after you told him everything that’s been happening to your body lately, that you acknowledge the symptoms. 

Two, bright, red lines. The result that swept you off your feet, changing your perspective of life forever. Your trembling hands hold the test, warm tears paint your eyes as you try to compose your breathing. 

For some minutes, your brain crashes, not understanding if this is good news or not. On one hand, you don’t feel ready to deal with a pregnancy right now, to raise a baby on your own, especially while feeling so hurt and heartbroken. But on the other hand, everything happens for a reason, right? You know how Lewis always dreamt of being a dad, so maybe this could be a sign: a sign of hope, telling you that there’s still something bright out there for you to look out for. Maybe, after breaking the news to him, Lewis might love you again, enamoured by the thought of creating a family by your side, like he used to mention so many times before. 

Some shy feelings of hope tingle in your stomach now, making you caress your belly mindlessly. There’s a baby growing inside of you, after all. A baby that was made out of love, the type of love that Lewis just needs to remind himself of again, to allow himself to feel it beating in his chest while looking deep into your eyes. 

That night, you go to sleep with a mix of emotions bubbling inside of you. The thought of becoming a mum makes an effortless smile appear in your features, happy tears appearing in the corners of your eyes as you imagine how your belly will grow in the next few months, how you are living the true miracle of life, your body sheltering your baby - everything you have ever wanted. 

But still, there’s a hint of unsureness, feeling hesitant to go back to Lewis’ place to tell him the news, to look at his face again after the cold gaze he shared with you last time. Nevertheless, this is his baby as well, and he has the right to know that a little one who is half of him, is on its way - and even if he decides not to be part of your child’s life, at least you did your part, and you can live the rest of your life with your kid without feeling anymore remorse or regrets. But right now, you can only go to sleep with the hope of a brighter tomorrow, of a day where the sun will finally show up, illuminating the most hidden corners of each street, helping to give you a good feeling about what you are going to do.

Surprisingly, you wake up to a heavy rain, the heaviest of the past couple of weeks. The skies are painted in a dark grey, making you furrow your eyebrows at the way the weather seems to match perfectly the way you feel. 

Taking a deep breath, you get ready to leave your hotel room, calling a taxi to take you to your ex-boyfriend’s house. While you’re on your way, you can’t help but notice that insecure feeling pooling in your chest again, how you feel anxious and unsure about knocking on his door again. 

He did ask you to give him some time, you don’t want to disturb him, you don't want him to think that you can’t leave him alone. This is not what this is about, this is about something bigger than just the two of you and the end of your relationship, this is important, way more important than anything else you two might feel or need right now. 

His car is parked outside, signaling that he is home. Trying to ignore the way your heart is pumping blood into your veins at a crazy speed, you take several deep breaths while standing in front of his door, not having the courage to ring the bell. You can feel the hot tears threatening to spill out of your eyes already, but you hold it together, composing yourself to act like an adult, like an independent woman who has a baby growing inside her right now. 

The rain hasn’t stopped and somehow, it keeps falling heavier and heavier as time passes by. Your clothes are wet, your hair is soaked from standing on the front of his house, but there’s a warm hand touching your stomach absently, caressing the little bean that seems to support you so much already. 

With one final deep breath, you finally ring the bell, the anxiety making you fidget, as if you can’t stay still, waiting for him to open the door. Some minutes pass by, and you can’t help but find it weird that he is taking so long to open the door. So, out of urgency, you ring the bell again. 

You decide to look to the road, watching some cars passing by as you try to distract yourself from the fact that you are waiting to see him again. You notice the shadow of a person coming to the door, your heart racing in your chest as you get ready to look into his chocolate eyes again. 

But, as the door finally opens, you find yourself unable to move. Your eyes widen at the sight, your mouth slightly agape, not believing what you’re seeing right now. 

- Who is it, Sophs? - you hear Lewis’ voice, directing your eyes to his frame that comes into sight a few seconds later. 

Sophia, one of your best friends, the one you shared all your life details with, looking back at you with the guiltiest look on her face. Her hair is a mess, she’s wearing one of Lewis’ t-shirts - your favourite one, the one you used to wear every night while he was away for work, the feeling of comfort by being wrapped in his scent always lulling you to sleep in his absence. 

The man grows silent as his eyes land on you as well, not knowing what to do or say in this situation, definitely not expecting to see you, to have you knocking on his door in the middle of a rainy afternoon, only to find him with your best friend. 

A simple towel, loosely wrapped around his waist is the only thing that’s covering his lower body, his bare chest in full display and your vision goes blurry by the amount of tears that soon start escaping your eyes. 

- Lewis… - a shocked, desperate, questioning whisper leaves your mouth, your hand holding your stomach tighter, as if your conscience is telling you that you have something to hold on to, so your knees don’t give out right now.

You take one last glance at both of them, mindlessly showing them a quiet nod, a hurt one, connecting all the dots in your mind before turning your back to the two people that you never want to see again in your entire life, the sight and scenarios running through your mind being unbearable. The screaming feeling in your chest is so loud that you bet everyone around you can hear it, destruction and desperation hitting you again as you run out of his place, using all your strength to escape this horror movie that you got into. 

Your sobs are loud in the middle of the street while your tears mix with the raindrops that find their place in your skin, walking on the rain - feeling so hopeless, on the verge of wishing life to end up right here, right now, because there’s nothing left for you after all this. 

The only man you truly loved, the only one that made you feel cared for, loved, understood, seen. The one you would do everything for. After all the times you cherished him, supported him through his career, holding everything down at home so he could feel free enough to fly high, to conquer the world, even after knowing how you hated to be alone, how you would wish for him to never leave your side. You still did it for him, and you would go through hell to make your relationship work, to see him happy, only for him to feel like the world was his. You knew that was what he had to do, and you would be happy for him as well. Still, you built all your dreams around him, only for him to break it down into ashes, right in front of you.

And now, he crushed your heart into pieces in a matter of weeks, destroying every beautiful memory that you two shared over the years, betraying you in such a cruel, raw way, treating you like you meant nothing to him now, like you never did, actually. 

And your best friend. Sophia, your fucking best friend, the one you’ve known since you were four years old, the friend you grew beside, the one who became your soulmate, the one you would take on every adventure through life, the one you trusted with your life. 

The two together, their bodies entangled in between the sheets, in an unimaginable moment for the three - neither of you wanting things to really happen this way. 

In one last leap of faith, you call your brother, crying to him on the phone, begging to pick you up, not trusting your body nor anyone around you anymore. 

Waking up with a tear-stained face, an exasperated sigh leaves your body. Exhaustion really took over you once you got to your brother’s house, realizing that your current condition doesn’t allow you to run like a madwoman in the rain anymore. 

There’s already a tray of food on the bedside table, waiting for you to wake up, making a groan leave your throat as you hide your face in the pillows. Your head hurts, your mind feels insufferable, your body feels weak. You are not hungry, the last thing you want to think about right now is food. But then, you force yourself to switch your chip. There’s a life inside of you, growing by the day, even if you feel like dying. And if you can’t find the strength to survive for your own well being, it is your duty to do it for your baby. 

And that’s how you try to look at life for the first days, after everything that happened. Forcing yourself to eat, to drink enough water through the day, to go for a walk, to get some fresh air and some bits of a shy sun that insists on showing up from time to time for only a couple of minutes. 

Your loyal support, your brother, never left your side through it all. He was the one scheduling your first doctor’s appointment ever since you found out you were pregnant, wanting to know if his niece or nephew was okay, not wanting your emotional state to cause any damage to the baby. 

Finding out that you are already seven weeks pregnant came as a surprise to you, not realizing how fast time is passing by while you just seem to be living in slow motion. With a numb mind and a sore heart, everything seems harder to process. But nothing could have prepared you for the moment when you would get to hear your baby’s heartbeat. 

The fast, rhythmic sound of your baby’s small heart, creating an orchestral music that changed the entire environment around you, immediately triggering new tears to leave your eyes. But as surprising as it seems, these aren’t sad, heartbroken tears. These are new ones, the kind that you haven’t felt in so long - the happy tears that seem to warm your insides as they slide through your cheeks. 

This is a turning point for you - you can feel it. It’s like the heartbeat of the small life that’s growing inside of you fills your veins with a sense of hope, of a type of love that you never felt, but the one you are needing now, more than never. It seems that the skies and all the gods got together to hear your prayers, your loud sobs and cries, gathering a solution to help mending your pain: your child, someone for you to take care of, to love, to cherish - a little one that will definitely put all of your pieces back together, helping you in ways that neither of you could ever understand.

And now, you realize how real this is. How you have a baby that’s part of you, that you will be able to hold in your arms if you are patient enough to wait eight more months - and brave enough to deal with all the changes that this period will bring to your life. 

Above it all, you understand that you can’t give up - on yourself, on life. You have a higher purpose, something that’s so much more important than just an ex-boyfriend, making every past event seem so small and unimportant when compared to how badly your baby needs you. 

You are its shelter, its home. You are the only thing your child has right now, and you can’t fail the most important role of your life, from now on. Looking at the little bean on the ultrasound’s screen, a gentle smile finally paints your features. There’s your future, your reason to hold on tight to life again, your reason to continue living, the small glimpse of hope that will help you find the beauty in everything again.

It’s with your head lifted and with an undimmed heart that you leave the doctor’s appointment. Feeling lighter than air, your fingers gently wipe the tears that last escaped from your eyes, letting out a sigh that seems to relieve all the weight that has been lying on your shoulders, lately. It amazes you how the little glimpse of life inside of you has the power to change your life in such profound ways. 

You’re willing to change, things really need to change. You can’t just continue to pretend that you’re living, while rotting in bed all day, silently crying to a pillow, allowing your body to immerse itself in these destructive feelings and thoughts. You need to be strong for your child, regardless of everything that happened. 

Lewis is a matter of the past, now. Anything that he might have done doesn't matter to you anymore, it’s not your business to keep him in your mind for hours on end, making you feel like you’re the worst person in this world. 

For the past few weeks, all you did was allow your mind to consume you, your brightness, your will to live. You felt like you were dying inside, but looking back now, you realize how crazy you were for even thinking that. You’re not dying inside, you’re rebirthing, literally creating a new life inside of your body, one that will step on this land and make every flower blossom again, allowing the sun to shine even brighter in your direction. 

With the determination to create a better future for yourself and your kid, you pack your bags, leaving your brother’s house. You thank him for everything he has done for you, and for all of the things that he will keep doing, holding you when you need it the most. But it’s time to start a new chapter of your life, after weeks of mourning the loss of something that was never really yours. 

Moving to a new place, in a new city just thirty minutes away from your family - not too far, but not too close to constantly remind you of your past, you prepare yourself for the new life you will have from now on.

Now, the rain doesn’t show up as much as it used to. Now, the sun comes out for longer, illuminating your desk at your new work, invading the curtains of your new house, playing with your features as it illuminates your eyes, shining in your hair, emphasizing the way your bump grows through the weeks. 

The changes are fast, your body preparing itself to all your baby’s needs. Excitement grows by the day, erupting through you the more you find out about your little savior. 

It’s a girl, you just recently found out, and her name just immediately resonated inside of your mind, of your chest: Hope. The one who came to your life to show you the light, to save you, to guide you through a different path, to mend your heart and shush away all your pain.

Even if there are days that feel as unreachable and lonely as the stars that hang tall on the dark sky of the night, making you sense that you are living only on a few mortal verses of your life, through the pages of the book on your lap, there’s always a calming, warm hand that travels through your baby bump, helping to ground yourself, to let you know that you are not alone, and you won’t even have to feel like you are anymore - you found yourself a life partner, one that will forever be by your side.

Now, you keep yourself busy by buying lots of pink and purple clothes, decorating your little girl’s nursery with soft tones, ones that symbolize peace and quiet, hope and renovation - the sensations she brings into your life. 

You created a photo album for little Hope, one that already has all the ultrasound pictures inside, the beginning of your princess’ life being something so important for you to keep safe inside the pages of the album already. 

Most of your clothes stopped fitting you already, reaching your fifth month of pregnancy. The dresses got looser, your bump developing in the most gracious way you have ever witnessed, like a baby bird, safely nestling itself on its mother’s wing. 

The kaleidoscope of butterflies that erupted through your entire being on the moment you first felt your girl moving inside of you, is indescribable. The proof that every day, you are one day closer to meeting your baby girl, now, finally becomes even more real as your fingers gently touch your belly to meet her soft kicks, meeting your soulmate even before she arrives in this world. 

Now, your smile appears more often on your lips, picking up some flowers from your garden as the sun warms your skin. Even if you don’t have an excuse for most of the goodbyes you had to say when you left your old house, the newfound feeling of peace and love growing inside of you by the second, make everything worth it. It’s just you and your baby girl, your parents and your brother that come and visit you often, and the expectation of a bright future.

Everything truly felt like a dream, until that fateful morning when you woke up with the sound of thunder hitting. It’s been a while since you’ve heard the sound that could make your insides shake with fear, making your heart race in your chest as you were startled by the storm. 

You have been feeling off the entire day, your body was sore, you felt light headed and weak, almost on the verge of passing out if you allowed your knees to collapse. For hours, you felt absolutely exhausted, even if you had just gotten out of bed after sleeping for an entire night. Your stomach felt weird, making you lose all your appetite, even if you would try and force some food inside your body, thinking about your little Hope’s well-being.

Throughout the day, some cramps occupy your lower stomach, igniting a sense of insecurity in your brain. The pain grows more intense as the time goes by, mixing your senses with the dizziness surrounding your head. You try not to think much about it, imagining it can be just a bad day, lack of rest or just something that you ate that wasn’t good for you. But the spots of blood on your pyjama shorts are what caught your attention.

Panic immediately washes over you, sensing now that something might be really wrong, and your reflex kicks in, dialing 911 to get yourself an ambulance, not wanting to wait any longer, before something terrible happens. 

It all happened so fast, it felt like a blur to you, from the moment the paramedics got to your house, to the emptiness inside of you while lying on the hospital bed: surrounded by nurses, IV tubes, different machines connected to your body, you slowly open your eyes, feeling like you have just been sedated. 

Once you regain your consciousness, your hand reaches for one of the nurses’ arms. 

- Is my baby okay? What happened? Someone talk to me, please I need to know what happened. - you plead, only to be met with a sympathetic look on the nurse’s face.  - The doctor will be here soon to talk to you, ma’am, please just try to remain calm. - the lady holds your hand for some seconds before leaving your side. 

You’re in panic, your heart feels heavy and accelerated in your chest, trying to understand what happened, why no one is telling you anything, so your hand reaches for your source of love and comfort: your baby.

Your fingers gently caress your bump, grazing along your skin as you decide to touch your favorite spot, the one where your baby always touches back, meeting you through the barrier of your skin. After some attempts of touching the same place, your heart drops when you realize that your baby isn’t touching back, and you definitely don’t feel her moving in your belly anymore. And, as much as you try to keep calm, convincing yourself that maybe it’s just the effect of all the medication they are giving you, your maternal instinct can’t stop ringing inside of you, letting you know that something is definitely not right. 

There’s not a single detail about the doctor’s face that helps calming you down one bit, once he enters the room. The man has a closed facial expression, looking as if he has been thinking about what he has to tell you. And, deep down, you already knew. 

He takes a stool, using it to sit next to your bed, so he could be eye level with you. There’s a sigh escaping his body, a heavy one, one that doesn’t bring good news attached to it.

- How are you feeling, Y/N? - he asks, briefly checking your vitals on one of the screens beside you. 

You know he is trying to make small talk, trying to find a way to initiate the conversation, until he has the guts to touch the topic he is currently avoiding. 

- Doctor, I just want to know how my daughter is doing. Please, I have the right to know what’s going on. I need to know. - your voice is cracking already, some small tears are making their appearance on the corners of your eyes. Your heart already knows, you can’t keep denying it. At this point, you’re just begging for someone to burst the bubble for you.  - Y/N… There were some unexpected complications, and we did everything we could, but unfortunately we weren’t able to save her… I’m very sorry for your loss. - his words come off slowly, weighted while showing you an understanding look, breaking down the news of a reality that you don’t want to face.

Soon enough, your body is met with an empty, cold room again, the deafening silence filling your veins as you cry out every emotion in your being to the point of exhaustion. Your baby girl is gone. The light of your life, the company that would never leave your side, the reason why the sky would be filled with such bright, beautiful colors at the end of every day. 

What if you die with all of the colours? In the same way that the sky turns black after the sunset, following the clouds that dress the dark blue, turning it into a painful shade of dark grey, reaching black while the moon stands tall in the atmosphere, only to hide behind one of the clouds. In this moment, your life has lost all meaning, all color surrounding your days. After this, what’s the reason to keep going? 

After Hope, the flood in your eyes, pouring from your heart, is everything you have left. Now, you won’t get to see the color of her eyes once you would finally cradle her in your arms, you won’t get to smell her hair, to touch her small, soft hands. Right now, the only thing you have left of her are the thoughts and dreams of all the nights when you imagined what she would look like. But that's just a dream that won't come true anymore.

Even while being in your belly, your daughter was able to hold you, to put together all your missing pieces. She gave you the sleep and all the dreams you needed to survive, every time her small fingers touched yours through your bump, hugging you the way she could. 

Maybe that was the purpose of her short passage through this dimension of life: to teach you more about the purest love that lives inside of us, and not on anyone else. But right now, the only thing you can do is cry and scream, question God and life, wanting to know why this is happening to you. Why did they have to take your baby girl away from you? 

You were never a fan of storms, until you felt the thunder hitting inside of you, wrecking you apart, ripping you to shreds, destroying every good thing that was left of you. And as the rain outside grows heavier, your heart can’t help but see them as the tears of your little one. The drops falling outside, hitting your window, are the tears of the ones who left already, missing their loved ones who stayed in this world - that are missing them in the same way, especially the ones who left way too soon, like your little princess. 

He doesn’t really know why, but ever since that rainy afternoon when you ran away from his house with a tear-stained face, Lewis was left with a heavy heart, like the echo of thunder - one that hasn’t left him for the past five months, constantly pumping inside of his chest, not giving him any rest.

He regrets what he did to you, he truly does. There’s not a day that goes by where he doesn’t think about you, and there’s nothing more that he wants than to talk to you, look into your eyes again, letting you know how sorry he is: for the woman who left his bed, for making love the way he saved for you inside his head. 

Lewis still dreams about you, every single night. And since you are no longer next to him, all he wants to do lately is lay down, so his mind can bring you closer to him again, making it seem like all his mistakes have been erased, holding your figure in his arms gently like he used to love so much. 

But, every night, he ends up being tortured by his own mind, his guilty conscience not letting him rest while he replays every single thing that happened on the last day he saw you. Every time he washes his body, he thinks about the way his limbs were entangled with another woman’s, in between the same bed he used to love you in. Looking back now, it wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth losing you, over some stupid one night fantasy, trading the love of a lifetime for someone who he never wants to see again, after his mind captured the heartbreak in your eyes. 

When he lies in his bed, his mind wishes your scent would still be in his sheets, calming down his racing heart to sleep. And it could be, having him not decided to bring another woman over - losing every bit of your existence that still lingered in his place.

His heart shrinks in his chest every time he remembers every detail of your skin, the precious features he used to hold safely in his hands while his lips would shower you with love. It’s you: the one for him, the missing piece in his heart, the half of his being that seems to disappear and never come back again. Your silence destroys him, and even while being blocked on your phone, he still insists on dialing your number every morning, almost falling in love with your voicemail message that seems to never abandon him, repeating your voice over and over again, even when his mind threatens to forget about it. 

Deep down, he knows he lost you - for good. But, for some reason, inside his mind, it’s like you just said ‘be right back!’, like you would tell him across the living room, when you would go out to do some grocery shopping. 

And even if he knows that he lost you, and that you don’t even want to look at his face again after everything he did, his heart can’t help but force him to wait, patiently looking at the dry flowers that you used to water before you left, that ended up dying, like all the love you held for him - waiting for you to open the door again, flashing him your bright smile at the sight of the love of your life lying in bed, waiting to cuddle you, so the love between your bodies can blossom again, the house can feel as bright as before, the flowers can come back to life. 

It hurts him to realize that you said goodbye, even after not really being here. Not talking to him, not wanting to hear everything that he has to say to you after you caught him in the most shameful moment of his life. And just like a fallen fighter, lying on the ring, waiting for the empty room, Lewis still waits for your love, even if that’s the last thing he will do with his life. 

There’s still some loose notes that he found around his place, love notes that you used to write him before you left for work, so your boyfriend could wake up to some loving messages from you - that and that he makes sure to keep reading on a daily basis now, to remember how much you used to love him, and how he managed to lose the most precious thing that has ever appeared in his life. 

I have the name of a flower when you call me. But, when you touch me, I don't even know if I'm water, a girl or an entire field of flowers that has crossed through me. - another letter reads, making tears tingle in the man’s brown eyes as his soul feels emptier by the day, when you’re not by his side. 

It’s hard for Lewis to pull through every hour of every day, knowing that you’re not in his life anymore, the reason why his heart would beat faster, making everything seem so dull without your giggles as the soundtrack of every moment you two would share. 

But nothing could prepare Lewis for the instant he ran into your mother. It was supposed to be just a normal, quick trip to the nearest pharmacy, so he could buy some vitamins, feeling a cold starting to get to him. 

His eyes darted through the space while he waited for someone to call his number in line. And that’s when his eyes landed on your mum, the nice, sweet lady that always accepted him in her family, as if he was her own son. 

Her hands are full with different boxes of pills, and his eyebrows furrow - could she be sick? Her face doesn’t make it seem like the lady is sick, but instead, she looks rather down, and he can’t help but notice how she’s all dressed in black, almost as if she was mourning the loss of someone. 

His heart can’t help but hurt at the thought of something happening to you, but he doesn’t feel the courage in himself to reach for the woman, to try and ask what happened, not after all the damage that he caused his daughter. 

Even if he tries not to stare too much at her, your mother recognizes him when she’s getting ready to leave the pharmacy, and she’s the one approaching Lewis. He can’t help but feel himself growing afraid of what your mother is about to tell him, this being the first time he gets the chance to talk to someone from your family, after everything that happened. But, somehow, the woman’s sad eyes let him know that she’s not reaching out to berate him.

- Hi Lewis… I don’t mean to bother you, but there’s something that I think you should know. - your mum’s tone is serious, alongside her closed facial expression, and that’s enough to startle your ex-boyfriend even more, growing worried that something actually might have happened to you. 

Walking outside the pharmacy into a secluded corner of the parking lot - trying to escape the heavy rain that insists on falling from the sky, Lewis keeps noticing how your mum’s breathing sounds heavy, like she is carrying all the weight of the world on her shoulders, and his anxiety just continues growing in anticipation. 

- Is everything alright, Carol? - Lewis asks, trying not to pressure the woman to talk, but feeling his nerves boiling with concern. 

His ex-mother-in-law takes a deep sigh, looking him in the eyes. 

- You were an absolute prick for what you’ve done to Y/N, everybody knows that. But still, I think you have the right to know, since you were the father… - your mum speaks softly, but still with some bitterness evident in her tongue.

Lewis’ face immediately scrunched at the word ‘father’. He was the what? 

- Excuse me, what? - he can’t help but interrupt your mother’s train of thought, not understanding what she’s trying to tell him right now.

The thing is, your mother knew that Lewis’ didn’t know about the loss, but she thought he knew that you were pregnant. But no, he didn’t. He didn’t know anything. And it takes a second for her to realize it, but once she does, a deeper sigh escapes her lips. 

- Y/N was pregnant, Lewis… when all of that happened between you two… She was already carrying your child, she found out when she was six weeks pregnant. I thought she had told you. - the woman briefly explained, making Lewis’ eyes widen, his mouth hanging open, at a complete loss for words at what he is finding out, now. 

No, you didn’t tell him, and now he understands why. That morning, when you showed up at his place, you were going to tell him. But you ended up not doing it, due to the miserable picture that you met once the door opened. 

Lewis forcefully closes his eyes, wishing things could go back to normal once he opens them again, but they can’t. There’s a whirlwind of new information swirling around his brain, and he is struggling to keep up, to let it sink in, but he feels like all the air just got ripped out of his lungs. However, there’s still more to come. 

- No, I didn’t know, unfortunately. But, you said she ‘was’...? - These last words leave his mouth slowly, a whisper that he is scared to unravel if he speaks louder, not wanting to come to terms with a harsher reality. 

Carol just nods her head ‘yes’, visibly growing emotional as Lewis feels his entire world collapsing around him, now. 

- There were some unexpected complications… Y/N rushed to the hospital, she said she was in a lot of pain, the doctors admitted her immediately… But unfortunately, they couldn’t save the baby. Her name was Hope. Your daughter, my granddaughter. - your mum is now fully crying as the pain still feels fresh on her skin. The woman covers her eyes with her hands momentarily, while Lewis is just looking around in pure shock, feeling some tears showing up on his eyes as well. 

He feels a part of himself dying as well, just by knowing that he was going to be a dad, a girl dad, his biggest dream ever. The love of his life was expecting his baby, and not only was he dumb enough to waste everything you two had, but he also wasn’t by your side while you were going through the worst moment, the greatest loss of your entire life. 

And for some seconds, your mum and Lewis just silently share the tears escaping their eyes, the man not really knowing what to say after this bomb that just dropped in his chest. 

- Was there someone else with her? - he finally speaks up, not knowing if you decided to restart your life with someone else, or if your family was by your side through this hard time.  - She only told us about it once she left the hospital… We went to visit her after, but unfortunately she was there all alone when all that was happening, oh my poor baby girl. - the woman’s cries are the ones of a mother who couldn’t protect her daughter, be there for her when she needed it the most… just like the sobs leaving your body every night, because you were not able to save your princess. - But believe me, Lewis: that baby was a little fighter. Just like her mum. 

His hands rub his face, a sigh escaping his figure now as well, not really wanting to believe that all of this is real. 

- And how is she? -  Lewis asks, thinking about your state, how you must be feeling terribly, how badly you must need someone to be by your side, and how desperately he feels the need to reach for you, to mourn the loss of the angel that was half of you and half of him. - These are for her. - your mum shows him the meds she just bought. - Physically, she is still recovering, but emotionally, she is absolutely destroyed, Lewis. I am afraid that I lost my little girl forever, as well. She will never be the same again. - your mother can’t help but share a hug with Lewis, the man who loved you, who made your sparkle shine for so long, the one everyone thought would be your ‘forever’. And also the one who lost you as well, without any chance of getting you back.  - Anyway, my son will be visiting her tomorrow, so he can bring her this medication, and right now, the only thing we can do is give her time. It will take her a long while to recover from all this. - the woman says, wiping away her tears as she tries to compose herself. 

At her words, Lewis’ brain lights up with an idea. 

- Can I come with him? Please, I need to see her. I need to see her more than ever now. - he pleads, seeing the way your mum’s face closes again, her features so similar to yours, definitely not thinking it’s a good idea. - Please, Carol. You said it earlier, I have the right to know, I have the right to talk to her, at least one more time. It was my baby as well, and I didn’t even know anything about her! -  Lewis insists, trying to get the woman to give in to his begging.  - Well, we all know why you didn’t know a thing about your daughter, Lewis. - the words hit him like a ton of bricks, making him go silent for a minute, knowing that she is right. He didn’t know anything about his child, because he made the dumbest, worst mistake of his entire life. 

But, if there’s something that Lewis might be thankful for, is the soft spot in your mum’s heart for him. Deep down, she just wished everything could go back to normal, to the way things were before, so she could look into her daughter’s eyes and see the sunshine on them again, instead of having to deal with the pain of seeing you so miserable. Your mother doesn’t know how you are going to react to the sight of Lewis being in front of you again, but she can only hope that maybe it might help you in some way, softening your broken heart, as you share the pain of losing something so dear to both of you, that you never got to meet. So, sighing, she gives in. 

- Okay, maybe you can go with Simon. But if you mess this up one more time, I’m never looking at your face ever again, Lewis. You need to keep in mind that this is partially your fault, as well. You can’t just meet her and think that you will win my daughter over again, because that won’t happen. I’m warning you. - the woman says to him, before finally entering her car and driving away. 

Lewis walks inside his car as well, taking a deep breath as he leans his head on his seat. Finally, the tears fall free from his eyes as he allows himself to feel everything in his bones. Every information, every mental image of you pregnant, suffering alone, losing your baby.

And he wasn’t there. And he didn’t know about it. He wasn’t there to go with you to your doctor appointments, to hear his daughter’s heartbeat, to caress your belly, to rub your feet once they started swelling, to hold your hair back when your morning sickness got the best of you. He was the father of that baby. He should have been there all along, by your side. And he didn’t, because of one dumb, unreasonable decision that he randomly made on one night, just because he was feeling bored to spend the night alone. 

Now, everything makes sense. Your hand in your belly once he saw you at his door, the regret, pain, splattered all over your eyes as you took in the scene unfolding inside his house, the definition of another woman’s touch on his body. 

He feels sick to his stomach, grossed out by himself, not bearing to be inside his own body right now. The man punches the steering wheel one time after the other, sobs and screams leaving his frame as he feels an inexplicable anger growing inside of him. But he is not angry at you - he could never be. He is angry at himself, at his actions. 

What if he had chosen to run after you, on that rainy afternoon? What if he had decided to follow his gut, that was telling him to meet you, to not let you go. Maybe things would be different - or not. At least, maybe you could have told him about the pregnancy, maybe he could have been a bit more involved in your baby’s small existence. 

But instead, he decided to leave you alone, not wanting to put salt in your wounds even further. Little did he know that he was just starting a storm inside of you, leaving you to deal with the consequences of it all by yourself. 

The raindrops are loud when they hit his car windows, almost as if they’re trying to muffle the loud cries escaping the man’s body, so the world couldn’t hear how destroyed he is right now. 

When you needed him the most, he didn’t show up. He didn’t feel any urgency in coming to your place after promising you the future and ripping every shred of hope out of your soul, playing with your feelings, stringing you along and masking it as if it was nothing, seeing the desperation in your features, the hurt painted in your eyes, so devastatingly that it could send bullets straight to his chest.

The only thing he gave you was the discouragement of a broken heart, of a lonely soul who lost everything it once had. But desire is the limit of the mere mortals, and wishing he could make it different right now, is the only thing he can do, but it won’t change a thing. He ruined the most important thing of his life, and above all, he lost the chance of growing the happiest of families by your side, ruining it so hard that he didn’t even get to meet his daughter. 

Your mother’s words echo through his mind. A little fighter, just like her mum, and he can’t stop thinking about how life has been so cruelly good to him lately: standing high on podiums, travelling through the world, succeeding in each task he would dedicate himself to. While you were suffering, in pain, crying, alone, bleeding for your baby, losing part of yourself in the process, while he had no clue about what was going on: his daughter, that would desperately need a father to hold her, to protect her, to lull her to sleep. One that never got to touch her mother’s belly to meet her small hand, to speak to her, to kiss her through the skin on the bump she comfortably used to lay. One that she didn't get to meet while she was still breathing. 

How could he dare to even feel an ounce of happiness in his body, even when his mind would feel heavy with the thought of you? While you were yelling out of desperation, the sound almost reverberated in his lungs, making him feel like something wasn’t right. While you were trembling out of agony, feeling yourself dying in seconds on that fateful day. Only to be heard, comforted by strangers. When he should have been there, he should have been better to you.

And on that night, Lewis can’t even fall asleep. Tears keep falling free from his eyes as it almost feels as if he can hear the sounds of your screams echoing through the walls of his house, in the same way they reflect all the tears that escaped your eyes on the last days that you’ve been to his place.

His house feels haunted, by the thoughts of everything that you had to go through alone, and by the idea of him being father of a soul that briefly passed through this earth, but that he didn’t get the chance to meet.

His daughter, Hope. What a beautiful name you chose for her, Lewis couldn’t have chosen a better one. His mind rushes to put your features together, so he could maybe try and imagine what his princess would look like, if she has had a chance to breathe in the scent of all the flowers in this land and feel the rays of sunshine hitting her soft baby skin.

After the storm, lightning stops radiating through the skies, only reverberating inside of you, after taking your baby away from you. Every time it rains, you picture your baby’s cries, how you could nestle her on your chest, kiss her forehead softly and calm her down. And when the rain stops, the calm that remains is more of a void than a relief. 

Three weeks have passed by since your baby girl’s heart stopped beating. Three weeks of immeasurable pain, missing her, her touches, her company so, so much. Right now, you have nothing to hold on to. So you just force yourself to stay until late at your office, glued to your laptop screen, filling all your hours with work, so you can forget about everything else, so your mind doesn’t have enough time to think about anything else. 

Everyone else around you would say that you have been acting like a robot, lately. Living on autopilot, burying yourself in work duties, getting little sleep, eating late at night inside of your car - in the rare moments that you remember that you need to eat.

It’s not as if you don’t want to eat nor rest. That just doesn’t seem to be a crucial part of what surviving means to you, lately. Life took away from you the most beautiful things you once had. Your relationship, that used to feel like a dream. Your baby, that came to you to save you, to be in your arms and glue all your broken pieces together. Now, you are left with nothing.

The only reason why you keep pushing through the days, is because you need to. In your mind, you are the common factor to both losses you suffered in the past months, so maybe you are the problem. Maybe you aren’t good enough to keep anyone by your side for long enough. 

Maybe you did something so wrong that Lewis just grew tired of you, wanting a break from you and everything you represented in his life. And maybe that’s why your baby couldn’t stick around until her time came to meet this world, to meet you: her mother, who carried her alone until her last breath. 

Not a day goes by where your eyes won’t shed some silent tears, but ever since you lost the light of your life, you feel so lifeless, that it’s like you can’t even feel a thing inside of you anymore, just letting the tears fall free while barely feeling them on your skin.

You feel like your baby can be watching you from above, like the little angel she is. Maybe that’s why you haven’t given up on life yet. Hope can definitely see how bereft you are, noticing that you haven’t been doing too well. This is not the mummy she knew and loved. The mummy she met was healing, thanks to her. It had a lighter heart to her, and was on the way to find the peace of mind that she so desperately deserved and wanted. Mummy smiled more, especially when Hope would stretch her tiny hand to talk to mummy. 

But that’s not who you are, anymore. Once again, you are left with desperation, with your broken, empty heart to hold, to try and mend. But you’re not mending it anymore. You just keep living because you deserve to suffer, you deserve to take all the punishments from not being able to save your daughter, to be there for her when she needed you the most. Your body failed her, and that’s why she’s no longer here.

If you are telling the truth, you hate that you are here again: in this dark place, in the middle of a void that doesn’t allow you to breathe, living through the struggle of just wanting to cave, never wanting to fight, dying inside. Of being lonely all the time. You should say sorry to the friends you’ve lost due to your isolation, to your family, from pushing them away most of the time. 

You regret a lot of things and you owe a lot of apologies to a lot of people, but mostly: you are sorry to yourself. This was never your intention, this isn’t how you wished your life would go. And you could promise you will get help and actively start trying to live. But that would be an empty promise. And you just truly are sorry that you lost yourself for good, this time. You wish you could fall into a deep sleep, begging for someone only to wake you up once all of this is over and the old you has reappeared. But for your old version to show up, you needed to have your baby girl in your arms. There’s no way you can be yourself without Hope close to you. 

You need time, of course you do. But that won’t bring you back. With time, the rivers and the hills will come closer. And with time, the thing that will start eating out of your hand and nest in your bed, is just one: silence.

In the afternoon, Lewis feels the anxiety running through his body as he gets ready to hop in the car with your brother, Simon - another person he hasn’t seen since you two had broken up.

The car ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence between the two men, neither of them speaking much besides the time when your brother told Lewis how you decided to move to this small town, around thirty minutes away from your parents house. 

Apart from that, they don’t really quite know what to say to the other. Your ex-boyfriend notices how Simon is also dressed in black, just like your mum was, and he looks down at himself, noticing how he unconsciously chose a pair of black jeans and a dark grey sweater, feeling like he lost someone important to him as well, even if most people don’t think he has the right to feel this way.

Lewis can feel this tension growing in between them, feeling in his bones how your brother is resenting every single thing that your ex-boyfriend did to you, realizing how hard it must be for Simon to sit beside him again, especially while driving him to meet you. 

If he was being honest, your brother was against this idea of Lewis knowing where you live right now, of him going there to interrupt your moment, thinking he can even feel half of all the pain that you have been through lately, most of it being caused by him and his selfish, self-centered attitudes. 

Knowing you like the back of his hand, your brother is sure that you won’t enjoy Lewis’ visit. But maybe, just by looking deep into your eyes and seeing the way you will reject him, will make the man finally back down, giving up on bothering you even further, on finally leaving you to try and recover. 

When Simon finally stops the car, Lewis’ heart races in his chest, making him feel so small and insignificant when compared to the importance of this moment right here, right now. Leaving the car, he follows your brother, who walks inside a dark green gate, leading to a small garden in front of a house. 

Unlike every other day, today isn’t raining. The light grey clouds are still standing high in the sky, but there’s a glimpse of sun in the horizon, one that gently lights up the day. Lewis finds your silhouette, sitting on a bench, your eyes fixed on the timid sun rays that seem to entice your gaze. 

Your brother is the one taking the first step, walking to the front of you, so your eyes can meet the guy who never left your side through it all. You slowly get up, wrapping your arms around Simon’s body gently in a warm hug, the only source of comfort that you allow yourself to feel from time to time. 

Simon is looking back at Lewis, and you follow his eyes, turning around to feel your world squeezing your body, tightening around you to the point it hurts to breathe, with the unwanted presence of the man who threw the first rock that made your glass start to shatter, until it completely broke down. 

Lewis is completely silent and frozen in place, like his mind has forgotten all about words and movements. He can’t believe his eyes. The first sight of the love of his life, after five months of not seeing each other, is brutal. You are all dressed in black, looking thinner than the last time he saw you. Your hair is longer now, and you use it to cover most of your features, but the dark bags under your eyes are still evident. 

In a silent exchange of glances, neither of you dares to say a thing, until Lewis finally feels the strength in his legs to slowly walk over to you. His steps are heavy, contrasting with the way his knees feel like they could buckle at any second. And when he gets as close as he physically can to you, his eyes meet yours again. 

The eyes that once held all the hopes and dreams of a life by his side, that would shine in the moonlight, while lying next to him in between the sheets of his bed, the ones who used to mirror all the love stringing along both of your bodies. They are, now, as empty as a dark, abandoned street, whose most hidden corner can’t even be recognized at night. The eyes that he once knew how to read as if they were his favorite book, are now the ones who scare him, the void inside of your soul visible through the gate that your gaze allows. 

Lewis’ own eyes are flooded with tears now, not even caring about wiping away the tears that fall down his cheeks. His trembling hand is slowly reaching for your face, gently putting some strands of hair away from your features, so he can see you in your plenitude: the emotionless expression, the dark eyes that seem lifeless. When his fingers start caressing your cheek lovingly, his breathing gets caught in his throat, noticing how cold your body feels against his touch. 

- It’s me, Y/N… I’m here, love. I know it took me a long while, but I’m here now. - he cries, only to be met with silence from your side. 

You don’t mind replying to him, not feeling an ounce of any feeling or sensation through your body. You don’t hold any grudges, any remorse. You’re not angry nor sad at him anymore. To tell the truth, you don’t feel any kind of emotion towards Lewis anymore. The only feeling that you allow to inhibit inside of you, is the pain and guilt of losing your baby, of not being able to protect her, as you were supposed to. And that’s the only thing that makes you feel angry at yourself: the heaviest weight that you will carry forever on your shoulders. 

So you just stay silent, even if the man in front of you is begging you to say something. There’s nothing to say, there’s nothing to do after every event that took place in your life for the past five months. Instead of speaking, your eyes just try to look through him, inside the soul who you once thought to be yours, but that, in reality, it always belonged to the world, and never to only you.

Lewis’ eyes dart from your face to your belly, and his hand yearns to land a small touch on it, as if he will get to feel the heartbeat, the movements of his daughter that he didn’t get to meet while he could. However, the man prevents himself from doing it, trying for a second to imagine the indescribable amount of pain that gesture would bring you. 

Breaking down in front of you, the man crumbles, wrapping his arms around you tightly, bringing you close as his head rests on the crook of your neck, sobbing into your frame. This used to be his favorite place in the whole world: your neck, your chest, where he would search for your warmth, where he used to lay his head to drift off to the most peaceful of all sleeps when he desperately needed a rest, one that would allow him to switch off all the worries inside of his brain. That’s the power you used to have on him. 

And now, he can’t even feel the softness of your skin anymore, being met with the barrier of the black turtleneck you’re wearing, feeling like a wall made of stone, preventing him, and the rest of the world, from getting access to you again.

Underneath the fabric of your shirt, he knows what he would find: the sharpness of your bones, the coldness of your fragile body that has been through so much, instead of the enticing scent of yours, the collarbone lines that were once soft under his lips. 

Still, he holds you as close as he possibly can, almost trying to glue all your pieces back together, but he doesn’t feel your arms wrapping around his body at any moment. 

You are staying still, your arms on the sides of your body, limp, without a reaction. You don’t reciprocate his touch one bit, not feeling like you should try to console someone who simply decided to leave your life. But still, you allow him to find his home in you again, even if it’s just for a brief moment, while his face is ducked in the crook of your neck, hiding from his actions, from the world outside of this moment. 

Your eyes are staring at the emptiness of the air, noticing how numb you feel as you hear the man’s loud sobs and cries, feeling how his arms are desperately touching your figure, scared that you might run away again if he lets go of you, scared that he might drown in his sorrow if you don’t hold him up. But his pain doesn’t mean anything to you anymore. It’s not yours to deal with anymore. He wasn’t there for you when the most painful tears were staining your crimson cheeks, when your throat hurt from screaming so loud when you lost your baby, when you bled for days, only to deal with your destruction by yourself. 

And after giving him the bit of home that he can still find in yourself for a moment - even if you feel like you have nothing else inside of you to give, you finally take a step back, leaving his hold, his touch. 

Lewis is left clutching the air, his breathing ragged, a shocked expression on his face. Desperation fills the man’s body, destruction coming along with it because this wasn’t just a step back from his hold, and he knows it. He knows how badly he fucked up, he knows the pain he caused to your life. You’re no longer his, and he knows what that step back from him actually means: for as long as you’re breathing, you will never be his again. 

- I know you were going to tell me about the pregnancy, and we both know why you ended up not doing it. But baby, you should have come to me either way, after everything that happened. I should have been there for you, it was my responsibility to be there for you, my love. - Lewis’ face is stained with tears as he tries to reason with you, feeling a heartache so strong inside of him that could kill him right then and there. 

His voice is gentle, even if he’s hurt. Your presence is making him feel so guilty that he tries to use the loving pet names to make you soften up a bit more for him, reminding you of what you two once had, hoping it could help ease the heavy weight on his shoulders, alongside the agonizing pain in his chest.

But again, his tears and begs don’t make you feel anything. 

- It was my loss, so it is mine alone to deal with. - you say, your tone hoarse and cold. The first time he hears your voice again, after so long, without it being through your voicemail message. And your words sting, hard, in his heart.  - It wasn’t only your loss, Y/N… I was the father of that little girl. I had the right to know, to hear her heartbeat, to see the ultrasounds, to dream about a life with her in my arms, just like you did. - the salty tears don’t stop falling from Lewis’ eyes, feeling completely wrecked by the moment, by your harsh words. 

For a moment, you look down at your hands, fidgeting with your own fingers while biting your tongue, finding no point in arguing, in letting him know all the harm he caused you. He’s not stupid, he knows all about that. Your gaze travels through your ring finger, that still has the tan line of that damn promise ring he gave you, one that you wore for so many years - and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips, remembering all the empty promises he made, but never kept. 

- She stopped being your daughter the exact moment I went to your place to let you know I was expecting, only to find you lost in another woman’s arms. Mind you, not just any woman, but my childhood best friend. All of that because you needed time away from me, right? Because you needed a break. - your words are sharp as a knife, and you nod your head at his silence now. - Exactly, Lewis. You were never her father, you didn’t deserve to know anything about my daughter. And I’m devastated that I lost her, it’s a pain that will never stop haunting me, but if I’m being honest, I’m so glad I never had a baby with you. 

It’s like the entire world collapses around Lewis, his heart feeling like it’s being punched over and over again by you, collecting every consequence of his actions, drinking the tears that never stopped spilling from his eyes since the moment he saw you. 

Turning your back to him, you grab your coat from the bench. 

- Tell mom and dad I love them. - you ask your brother, hugging him one last time before entering your car. 

Lewis is left a sobbing mess, his body almost giving in as he is the one sitting on the bench now, hiding his face in his hands as he lets out all the sorrow spill from his body, through the endless tears escaping him. 

This is it, for him. It’s the end of a dream that he prayed so hard to get back, but that slipped through his fingers, on his own will - he destroyed his own world. And right now, it doesn’t matter how he might scream loud and feral, pouring out his rawest emotions, how badly he might sob, missing you to death. He doesn’t do it for you anymore. And even if, deep down, you still love him, it doesn’t really matter anymore, because the two of you will never be in the same room again.

Your name slips from his lips a countless amount of times, whispering it as if it could bring you back, asking God why?, only to be met with the silence surrounding him, matching how silent you went when he hugged you, not feeling magnetized to him anymore - that silence that could be heard from afar, sounding louder than all the heartbreaking screams you let out on the day you lost your little light. 

Now, the sun won’t shine as bright as it used to before, for him. The flowers won’t have such beautiful colors, the earth won’t move so graciously. If the power of the understanding between two souls doesn't change the world, definitely no part of the world is exactly the same after two souls understand each other. And how badly does he miss the times you would understand the other so easily, so effortlessly, firmly believing you were made for each other.

After this, nothing will be able to mend Lewis again. He is paying for everything he has done to the love of his life, and no trophy or podium could ever replace the dark void that lives in his heart, now. No sun can erase what has already collapsed inside of him.

Driving away, you let out the deepest breath, your hands tightening around the steering wheel until your knuckles are turning white. The rage inside of you right now is enough to start a storm, to make the most scary of all thunders to erupt through the skies, but looking at your passenger seat, you remind yourself that you have more important things to do, now. 

Today marks the third week that you’ve lost your baby. In the morning, you went to the florist, buying a bouquet of pink carnations - the lady letting you know that they represent a love, or someone, that will never be forgotten. 

And now, as the sun starts getting ready to set on the horizon, you drive to the river near your house, the safe place you used to go when your morning sickness would get the best of you, when you feel lonely most of times, having no one by your side and finding some comfort in the birds flying around you, in the flowers blooming alongside the way. It’s a newfound tradition that you make sure to do every week, on the exact same day, living through the days in autopilot, until the day arrives. 

Near the river, the wind is cold but soft, gently pushing the hair from your face, drying all the tears from your face. Sitting on a bench near the water, your shadow is hugged by a tall tree that protects you from the rain, in case it decides to fall. 

This is your place now, your refuge. Where you come to cry, to speak to your daughter, knowing that she loved the time you two have spent here. The hours pass by fast when you’re paying attention to the warm, gentle, bright colors that invade the sky as the sun sets in front of you, while noticing the movement of the tide, how the water reflects the nature embracing you. 

You could forget to eat, to sleep, or to do some house chore. But you could never, ever, forget about the date you lost your baby, never forgetting to stop by the lovely florist that already has a new bouquet ready for you every week, never not sitting by the river at the end of the day.

It seems like this safe spot hugs your heart, caresses your broken soul, speaks to you in ways no one ever did. It’s like your little Hope lives here now, waiting for her mummy to come see her as she asks the skies to prepare the most beautiful sunset for your eyes to see. 

And as you throw the flowers into the water, you carefully see the way the tide hugs the petals away from you, slowly taking them out of your sight, just like life has taken away your baby girl from your hold. 

It’s a silent moment that speaks for your heart. It’s a hurtful I miss you, and I’m sorry I failed to protect you, I will always love you more than life, that you can’t seem to say verbally, just letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you see the seagulls flying in direction to the horizon, towards the light, searching for it, in the exact same way that you try to search for yours: for a light, a signal, a reason to keep going - even if she lives in the sky, now. 

[superblysubpar]

series masterlist | part two ->

chapter summary: A bet is proposed.

the song: honey by halsey

2,563 words | please see the masterlist for general warnings | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  Your fingers tightened around the handlebars, palms damp and grip too loose for your liking. A deep furrow seems permanent between your brows, resting under the cherry red plastic that brought you into this mess. Their words ringing in your ears like a jingle of a commercial - annoying and unable to ignore if you tried. 

  “What a girl - she needs a helmet to ride a bike?”

  And if that comment alone wasn’t bad enough, Steve Harrington had to chime in. Leaning over his own handlebars, smirking, daring you to challenge him. 

  “What you need it for anyways? Not like you were planning to go down the destroyer. Bet you were just going to Benny’s for ice cream.”

  The other boys had snickered, Steve’s smirk grew into a full wattage, cocky, grin. That is until you lifted your chin, kicked up dust directly at him as you turned your bike and said: 

  “Cute you still call it the destroyer. I’ve been biking down that hill for years. How about I show you and buy you an ice cream cone afterwards Harrington?”

  Boys ‘oo’ed’, Steve’s jaw clenched, and your chest filled with some sort of powerful and addicting feeling as you biked towards your lie. 

  Which now sits in front of you. The legend so aptly named by the Hawkins population of thirteen and under due to it’s sheer height and the gravel that sat below it. A hill way out near the Quarry, it took half the day to bike there and back - if you still had your bike after that is. It was the tallest point in Hawkins aside from a grassy hill teens would sneak away to. 

  From the top of the destroyer, you could see the whole town, all the way down to the bottom of the Quarry, the road, and where it turned to gravel to lead to the sort of landing at the base of the pit. 

  It was the point the hill turned to gravel that truly gave the bike killer its name. If one somehow got the courage, or in your case straight up stupidity and false confidence for brains, to decide to go down the hill, your speed by the time you reached the bottom would be too much and the gravel was a relentless enemy. 

  You’d heard stories of bikes skidding, of scratched up, bruised limbs. There was even a tale of one boy who toppled over his handlebars and popped his shoulder out of place. 

  And you’d told Steve Harrington you’d been going down it for years. 

  “Hey.”

  His voice was far quieter than you were used to hearing, like he wanted you to have to lean in and listen to what he was about to tell you. 

  When you turned to tell him you didn’t care for what he had to say, you were shocked to find his cheek pulled between his teeth, wavy hair pushed up at odd angles like he’d run his hands through it a few too many times. Steve wrapped his fingers around his own handlebars tighter, like if his grip was strong enough, yours would be too, straddling his bike next to yours and gulping as he looked down the hill. 

  “What?” You finally asked, fingers toying with the straps of your helmet. 

  “I don’t think you should do this…” 

  As the boys whispered behind you, you frowned and didn’t dare think about how Steve’s voice wobbled a little, like there was some real emotion behind the warning. 

  Like he cared. 

  “I’m truly touched you were able to scrounge up enough brain cells to force a thought, but I have never and will never care what you think Steve Harrington.”

  That same swelling feeling of triumph filled your chest when the other boys laughed and Steve’s ears started to turn as red as your helmet. 

  Steve ignored the laughing, voice a twinge stronger than before as he said, “You’re gonna get hurt.”

  “I’ve done this hundreds of-“

  Steve said your last name, grabbed your handlebars. His golden eyes burning with something as he practically begged you to listen to what he was trying to say.

  “You’re being stupid.”

  From this close, you could see more freckles along the bridge of his nose, see that his eyes weren’t brown but had a little green in them. You could smell lemonade and sunblock and something about it all made you panic. Made you push him off and add extra bite to your tone, hoping your words stung him.  

  “Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

  And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears. 

  Hawkins, Indiana - the present

  Your eyes roll almost in time with Harrison Ford’s. A man who’s currently on the suspended screens because he has some weird thing about a movie with him being on while he’s flirting. Like Harrison’s energy is in the store with him, a guiding wingman. 

  What a tool. 

  Eddie’s lips quirk up in a lopsided smirk across from you when your shoulders tense at the shrill giggle to your left. You roll them back, then your head from side to side. Your fingers meet to form the goal post again, elbows sticking to laminated sheets screaming about summer deals and most definitely some sort of residual soda spill.

  “So,” a deeper voice than what you know it to typically sound like catches the tail end of the giggle, “If I were to call this number right now-“

  “I’m not home, silly,” another forced giggle interrupts. 

  Eddie sighs when you straighten up again, your teeth snapping at a red vine as you watch the hand reach forward and tuck a perfect blonde ringlet behind an ear, then linger. 

  “Well,” he leans in, voice stickier than the honey of his eyes, “If you were home…I’d call you.” He taps the tip of her nose with the pad of a finger, then flashes a smile brighter than the overhead fluorescents. “And ask you if you’d be free for a movie tonight?”

  Robin snorts next to your ankle behind the counter. Green vest covered shoulders rising as they shake with somewhat silent laughter and her head hides between her knees, tapes scattered on the floor around her. 

  Your head shakes back and forth in baffled amazement. It’s like an accident - you can’t help but watch  the wreck that’s about to-

  “And if I were home to answer, I’d tell you to pick me up at 7.” 

  The red vine falls from your mouth onto the counter, as you watch a little piece of paper leave manicured fingers and slip into the front pocket of his gray polo.

  A paper football smacks your nose as Eddie sighs out of his. As her hips sway under tight denim, haloed by the bright sunshine when the trill of the door chimes on her exit, the overpowering scent of vanilla and peaches continues to suffocate. 

  Steve Harrington turns to you all with a cocky grin. He pulls the digits scrawled in loopy font out of his pocket and nestles it between brown leather and green bills before returning the wallet to his back pocket with a pleased sigh. 

  “Oh yeah, I’m back.”

  And then he high fives the TV.

  Not just a tool - a whole box of them.  

  Steve turns when you snort, eyebrows raised at you as he takes his place behind the counter again. 

  “Something funny?” He asks, reaching toward your box of red vines. 

  “Real funny,” you admit, snatching them closer, “That you think anything about that interaction means you’re back.”

  Your waist hits the counter as you step out of his reach when he takes another forward with a tilted head. His fingers just miss the red candy when he huffs. 

  “Enlighten me, babe.”

  “Don’t,” you hiss, “Call me babe.”

  The counter digs into your back, Steve leans in closer, mint and cedar beginning to overpower the peaches, and you hate that you don’t mind the difference. 

  Steve’s lips smirk, a freckle just above his top one lifting as he tsks, “Wow. Not gonna even acknowledge my big brain word?”

  “Would you like a round of applause, Harrington, for correctly using the word enlighten?” 

  He grins, he nods, his fingers snatch a piece of the licorice up, “Yeah. Yeah I would.”

  You catch the end of the candy, shaking your head with a scoff. “She called you big boy.”

  Robin, whom you don’t want to admit you’d forgotten was even behind the counter with you, sighs, loudly.

  “Wow. Thanks. I had just forgotten.”

  Steve tugs on the candy between the two of you with raised eyebrows and a look of annoyance. “And?”

  You tug harder, and Steve dares to take another step closer with it, knuckles brushing yours that lay limply next to thighs almost touching. 

  “And, that means you didn’t do a thing except let rumors of what’s underneath your too tight Levi’s spread like the rash you’ve probably given to half this town.”

  Another tug of the candy, though gentler this time, pulls you closer, plastic crinkling against your abdomen as he proudly whispers, “Not rumors, babe.”

  “Call me babe,” you practically growl, “One more time. See what happens.”

  “Okay,” Steve tilts his chin in a challenge, fingers twitching on the candy, “Ba-“

  The red licorice disappears with a flash of silver metal, snapped between white teeth before it’s waved around dramatically.

  “While this is super fun to watch. She’s not wrong Stevie.” Eddie shrugs. 

  Steve takes a step back, red Nike swoosh flashing as he kicks at thread bare carpet. “Sure. She’s never wrong.”

  You have to physically stop yourself from sticking your tongue out at him. 

  Eddie hoists himself up onto the counter, chain tapping and clanking against things as he gets down just as quickly he sits when you snap your fingers and point to the ground. 

  He raises his hands in surrender at you, then waves at Steve with a squint of big, brown eyes. 

  “You’re not back. You barely had to put in any work with that cutie. She was making heart eyes at you from the parking lot, man.”

  Steve holds his arms out at his sides, like he’s innocent. “Just because girl’s know I have a sizeable-“

  “Ew,” you snap another bite of candy. 

  “Appendage-” Steve continues, ignoring you. 

  “You’re sick,” Robin delivers in a monotone from her stack sorting. 

  “And they know I know what I’m doing with it,” Steve talks over Robin in their well-oiled banter, “Doesn’t mean I don’t have to work hard.” Steve dares to place his fingers over his chest and continue with pride dripping from each word, like he truly believes and is proud to say, “I still have to put in the work to look good, to flirt and think on my feet. I have to pull out the Harrington charm. It’s not my fault I have more than other guys to work with.”

  Eddie ponders what Steve is saying thoughtfully, he places his hands behind his back and paces, nodding his head carefully. 

  “Maybe so,” Eddie sighs dramatically, gesturing with a bow to Steve, “We cannot all be gifted with such well-endowment.”

  “I truly hate it here,” Robin says to the ceiling while Steve beams. 

  You tilt your head at Eddie, trying to figure out where he’s going before he gets there. 

  He slaps his hands on the counter, metal clanking against glass displaying candy as he proclaims, “I propose a challenge.”

  Steve snorts, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter next to you, his elbow nudging yours. “What, like a duel?”

  Your eyes roll as you dig your elbow into his, pushing him away. 

  “Intriguing, but maybe another time. I’m fresh out of jousting materials I’m afraid,” Eddie grins. “No, I think, to really know if you’re back, to prove this,” he waves his hands at the entirety of Steve, “All takes real work and you’re not just coasting on what the good lord gave you, you’d need to use it on someone who’s unsuspecting. Someone,” Eddie purses his lips, “Who isn’t already swooning over the mere thought of you.”

  Robin spins, blue eyes alight with intrigue. “Hold on. I’m listening.”

  Steve tilts his head, “You want me to get the number of a girl who hates me?”

  Robin grins like it’s the best things she’s ever heard, but Eddie shakes his head, tugging on a curl. “No. Too easy. I think you need to sleep with her.”

  Your mouth drops open in disbelief and Robin whistles low and slow. 

  Eddie pretends to hold up a scroll, reading from air in a theatric voice, “I, Eddie Munson, declare that Steve Harrington cannot get the next girl to walk through this door of thy Family Video to have sex with him. The rules shall be that Harrington may only pursue said girl after careful consideration of her un-swoonability by yours truly, and will have one week to prove his charming capabilities. The stakes? One hundred dollars. Does Steve Harrington accept such a bet?”

  You scoff, “You’re both not actually making a bet on-“

  Steve’s hand slaps into Eddie’s, both boys smirking as they shake on it. Steve waves his other hand in the air, all nonchalant while confidence oozes out of him. “Next girl that walks through that door, I’m going to fuck. Easy.”

  “Unbelievable, You’re both unbelievable.” Your words are lost on deaf, egotistical ears.

  Eddie nods, he grins with shoulders raised at Steve. “Right. Since you’re back, easy peasy.”

  “Her ass and tits will be squeez-ied.” 

  Robin boos, cupping a hand around her mouth. 

  You gesture to her, “That? That’s what you finally have a problem with?”

  Robin shrugs, grinning, “I’m off the clock in one minute. Then he’s your problem.” She looks at Eddie, “Still able to give me a ride home?”

  Eddie nods, “I am but only the ladies driver,” he turns to you with a snap, “Speaking of, think you left your vest in my van, doll.”

  “Oh shit, thanks,” you bounce around the counter as Robin heads into the back. The door chimes as you squint into the late afternoon summer sun, sneakers kicking pebbles on the way to Eddie’s van, when it hits you. Suddenly. Wonderfully. Beautifully. 

  Your vest is sitting on the counter next to your red vines. 

  You spin, gravel crunching beneath your heels as you look at the front of the store.  

  Heavy steps thud against the ground as you race towards it, meeting a frantic Steve at the set of glass double doors.

  He grips the handles, wild eyes and shaking his head no, as he holds them closed and you tug to open them, grinning. 

  Eddie bows behind Steve as Robin cackles. 

  “What’s the matter Harrington,” you call through the doors, enjoying the way his jaw pulses, “Why can’t I come inside? Enlighten me.”

  Steve’s gaze traces your face, it lingers on your smile before it meets your eyes. 

  A challenge in both sets of glares, neither of you willing to back down. 

  He let’s his hands fall from the handles and rest on his hips as the chime trills overhead with your step inside. 

  You bat your eyelashes, you press the back of your hand to your forehead and pretend to faint against the glass. 

  “Good luck, big boy.” 

Tag List - thanks for your endless patience and excitement for this, but please let me know if you'd no longer like to be tagged:

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit

[midnightarcheress]

woke up wanting to write something with my pretty boy kyle and this was born.

cw: nsfw. f!reader. gaz obsessing over the pretty college girl by his side. implied future stalking ig? unedited. part one | part two

someone catches Kyle’s attention on the plane.

his legs are on the verge of cramping and his breath is ragged, running to board his connection flight at the last call. after falling off a helicopter twice in the last operations, he developed an uneasiness of flying, no matter the aircraft, preferring taking the train over being miles up in the air, even if it triples the travel. but this time, he just wanted to get home the fastest way possible for a much-needed night of sleep in his own bed, instead of the barely cushioned military-issued mattress.

he hopped on the plane and made his way through the corridor, gaze fixed on the numbers under the luggage rack, attentively looking for his spot. he stopped by row thirteen, eyes darting between the number and the woman on the window seat. i could’ve sworn i marked that one when i booked? Kyle checks the boarding ticket again – row 13, seat A. it’s the right seat, why is there someone on it? 

an annoyed sigh escapes his lips, gathering the energy to speak up and reclaim his rightfully bought seat. the problem is, he gets ultimately struck when the seat-thief notices him standing and turns to face him. wide eyes meet his brown ones, immediately softening at the sight of your tempting glossy lips and delicate fingers pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. pretty little thing.

“i’m sorry, is this your seat? it was empty on the first flight,” you say, an apologetic tone in your voice as you frantically close the book on your lap and shove it in a bag, “i’ll move back for you–”

“it’s alright, keep it.” he interrupts, throwing his carry-on in the rack and taking the empty middle spot beside you. he smirks at your appreciative nod and watches you settling again on the backrest, buckling the seatbelt at the shining signal hovering your heads and paying extra attention to the flight attendant announcements, even when no one around seems to care. sweet girl, so considerate to everyone.

the plane starts speeding on the runway, and from his peripheral he views your squeezed eyes and nearly white fingers gripping the armrest, breathing quickening during the gravity push of the take off. it takes a moment for you to release your tight grasp and exhale, making his hand twitch with an urge to soothe you, tell you that you’re safe.

he shakes the sensation and leans his head back, focusing on the one thing he can do to pass the time – sleep. but he can’t keep his gaze out of you, glancing to his left whenever you make a movement, no matter how small. the rapid keyboard tapping guides his irises to your laptop screen, catching a few words in a sea of what for him sounds like an alien language. DNA strand? allele? locus mutation?

he sneaks a look through your figure and his eyes land on the familiar blue logo on your hoodie, the same one he always sees on the walk from the market to his flat. uni a couple blocks from me. do you live on campus? or nearby? that neighborhood is awful at night, full of old blokes searching the pubs for a quick fuck with a naive college girl. but you seem smart, not the type to fall for their tricks, right?

the harder he tries to avoid your presence, the more you make yourself known, almost making him feel like it’s on purpose. the way your plump lips wrap on the water bottle, slight drop scaping on the corner and trailing down your neck, your flowery perfume filling his nostrils when you shift on your seat to remove the top layer of your clothing, exposing the low-cut blouse underneath and the soft roundness of your tits. is that for me, sweet girl? need a break from studying so hard? the sudden tightness of his trousers brings him back to his senses, stirring the thought out of his brain. 

keep it cool, Garrick, he repeats over and over in his mind, ignoring the tent forming on his lap and praying to whatever god is out there that you won’t see it, even while standing up and brushing your legs on his knees to get to the corridor due the cramped space. however, he doesn’t miss how the guy by his side shamelessly ogles your cleavage when you step past him, making his blood boil and his fists clench – like he wasn’t doing the same exact thing minutes before.

while you're away, he glances at your screen again, noticing the constant message notifications from the contact ‘Marcus - DO NOT ANSWER’. already looking bad for you, mate. curiosity takes hold of him and he starts reading the texts, silently chuckling at the guy’s pathetic attempts to get your attention. what did he do to earn a cold shoulder, sweetheart? did he hurt you? didn’t he pay enough attention to you? i bet he couldn’t even fuck you the way you deserve. 

he keeps skimming the messages until the grin tugging on the corners of his mouth fades into a frown when he reads ‘you’re gonna regret leaving me’. now, who’s this prick? think you’ll get away with threatening my girl?

his body stiffens when you come back, eyes darting back to the small telly in front of him when your hand brushes on his thigh while sitting once again. he hears your irritated huff when you skim through the messages, shutting the laptop with near violence. i can take care of him for you, love. you won’t have to deal with that by yourself anymore. 

the pilot’s muffled voice coming through the speakers and announcing the landing shortens his daydreams about getting rid of Marcus. it would be a great way to keep himself busy while on leave, making sure to do it fast and secretly, of course, just to protect his sweet little thing. poor guy wouldn’t even know what hit him.

the pressure change on his ear is the telltale sign of the aircraft lowering its altitude, landing gear out to hit the lane and brake the machine. he turns to the side, watching again your knitted eyebrows and how your nails dig into the seat. this time he doesn’t contain himself and his hand gently lingers over yours, the softness of it sending lightning strikes over his body and almost making him cum instantly. 

your glinting eyes find his face with a grateful gaze, lips mouthing a sugary thank you when the plane finally stops. he helps you take your handbag out of the rack with ease, using the situation to flaunt his muscles. i can even pick you up, darling. would love to feel your pretty thighs around my waist. you wouldn’t have to walk a day in your life. 

his eyes follow the sway of your hips through the airport, heart almost bursting when you wave goodbye and flash him a timid smile. you think that’s the last time you’ll see him, he thinks this is just the beginning. a name and university? he’s used to finding people with even less information. see you soon, sweet girl.

[sizzleissues]

Its May.

Okay so this is in the same AU I had last year its just changed and evolved while also being the exact same. Except now I have 15,000 words of it written, like 7,000 words of planning and lore and hours upon hours of research that I will be pointedly ignoring. Will be posting more stuff this month about the AU and my hopes and dreams for it

Also slight art improvement check? I’ll put their original mermaid designs below the cut.

It’s Marinette as a mermaid and … its not Adrien or Chat Noir but a third worse thing (Catwalker but in the purest manifestation of it being a curse and not who he wants to be) I will be making designs for mer!Ladybug, and mer!Adrien as its own thing later on.

Okay if you want to indulge me look below the cut

Old mermaid designs first. I am going to be talking about my design thoughts, thoughts and ramblings about this AU and what I’ve been up to. You have been warned

As you can see, some things have changed but neither design I hated, I just wanted to go further with it.

My brain is quite specific about mermaids and how I want them to generally look. I wanted to distinguish biological merfolk from transformed humans by having them being anatomically different. So Adrien has a vertical tail instead which is also way faster underwater. His transformation is quite distressing for him and very chaotic. Of course when he accepts it he’s not so raggedy.

Marinette similarly avoids her life as a mermaid by becoming human and I wanted her mermaid design to hint toward her fascination with humans. She wears a top she fashioned from human fabric she found in a sunken merchant vessel. In general all other merfolk either forgo clothes or wear things fashioned from materials available to them. There’s deep fear of humans and human things so even though human clothes are available to them (off dead bodies but…. Whatever) they choose to difference themselves as much as possible. The same taboos don’t exist for them and their bodies are already adapted from the temperature of their environment. Adrien has stray bits of netting and seaweed on him because he’s not exactly the best at controlling his speed and often crash’s through fishing nets and patches of seaweed resulting in stuff being caught on him.

A lot of their designs are still being worked but I’ve definitely pushed them the right direction!

On to the AU. You might have seem me cryptically talk about something I’m writing the past few weeks. This is because it’s been in my brain since last May and been on and off writing it since then. I decided I’d talk about it once May came back around but and then when I finished writing it, start posting sneak peaks and more spoilery art until it was fully edited and I felt confident in it to post with an aim for it to finish posting once May rolled around again. Oh god.

It’s set in the late 1700s in a fictional version of France that’s actually fragmented over a bunch of islands. I have done more fashion research than I ever thought I’d do and in the end we will still be taking creative license but know I do know what they actually wore! I ALSO did a butt tonne of research about sailing ships and turns out they are super complicated and now I know too much and yet too little still about them. It should be super fun and action packed if I can manage. Have some really good scenes already in my head I know you’ll love. We’re already three ships battle deep and I’ve only written four chapters. (It chills out for a bit after that)

This is entirely self-indulgent by the way. I’m writing this for me, you guys are just a bonus. I literally don’t care as long as it satiates my rabid need for the fic that only lives in my brain at the moment. Saying that, I do want to put my best foot forward.

The next thing I will be posting for this is their human forms and more blabblerings about that. For I am insane and all.

[tinytalkingtina]

Cool Whip

Rating M | WC 1330 | Ao3 link

Tags: getting together, first kiss, innuendo, bisexual steve and eddie, eddie speed-runs a sexuality crisis, inappropriate use of whipped cream, fast burn (these two have never gone slow in their lives), fade to black

Written for the STWG July 28 prompt "Oh. Oh."

Steve stared at Eddie in complete silence.

Eddie fidgeted under his gaze. “So. Perhaps. In this instance, giving into the gremlin that lives inside my head was not the best choice I could have made,” he said sheepishly.

“Really Edward. You don’t say.” Steve was still holding the incriminating weapon, had been since he confiscated it. Every so often he twirled it around in his hands.

“What if you uhhh, did it back to me? We’ll be even?” he offered. “Come on, it’s fine, I won’t even fight you on it!”

“Can’t do that because we’re at my house, not yours, and this was my last pair of clean pants and underwear. So, unless you want to walk around like Winnie the fucking Pooh for the rest of the night, maybe we don’t spray whipped cream down your jeans too.” 

Steve ran an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m going to go take a shower and wash this shit off of my junk now, ‘kay? Just put the ice cream back in the freezer, we can do a movie night together another time, I guess.” Disappointment was written all over his face. Oops, Eddie didn't realize how much he must have been looking forward to watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

As Steve turned around to go, Eddie knew he should let him. Unfortunately, Nosnum Eidde, the impulsive gremlin living in his brain, was still firmly in control.

“Wait, let’s not waste it. Let me clean you up!” He blurted out.

What?

“What?” Steve was staring again, this time with eyes wide in confusion.

“Let me…clean up the mess I made. On your body.”

“Eddie I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

It did sound like a joke didn’t it. But if it was a joke, why was the thought sending sparks of lighting along his spine. 

“I don’t. Don’t think I’m joking right now,” Eddie said slowly. “Give me a minute here.”

It wasn’t like his brain had a perfect track record when it let Nosnum have the wheel. Like those times it had told him that he could climb the tallest tree in the trailer park without getting stuck at the top, or point out how hypocritical O’Donnell was acting during class without getting detention. 

But it had also gotten things right on occasion. And with Steve standing so close, it was busy pointing out things Eddie hadn't thought about before: like for example, when Steve chewed on his lips in agitation, they became invitingly plump. And, despite the growing damp spot on the front, those jeans were still hugging Steve's ass perfectly. 

Perhaps most importantly, he wasn't rushing forward to punch Eddie's lights out for insinuating, well. He just stood there with a faint blush coloring his cheeks. In his house, a place currently unoccupied by anyone else, not even Robin. While wearing a shirt that was just on the wrong side of too tight with his hair coiffed for a night out and oh my G-d—

“Steve…was tonight supposed to be a date?” Eddie was shocked the question fell out of his mouth so steadily.

The blush on Steve's face grew darker. “I mean, sort of? Was getting mixed signals from you but—yeah.” He shrugged. “We haven’t been able to hang out one on one since I figured things out. Thought I’d see how tonight went before making a move.”

“Oh. You. You had a plan to seduce me.” Eddie wheezed a little. "You like me like that?"

“I uh, kind of put two and two together about a month ago. Had a really long talk with Robin, and turns out apparently normal men don't want to, you know, make out with their guy friends. Or imagine Harrison Ford holding a whip when he’s all sweaty and—wait, what about you, Mr. 'Propositioning My Friends To Use My Mouth?’ How long have you known?"

“About five minutes consciously.” Eddie said in a strangled voice. “Maybe ten if we consider what I did to your pants subliminal foreplay.”

Steve snorted. The gremlin in Eddie’s brain was convinced this made him even more attractive. Huh, maybe this had been going on for longer than he had realized, if a snort could set him off.

“Not really sure what submarines have to do with Cool Whip, but yeah we can probably count that. Welcome to the ‘part gay’ club man! You’re taking this really well, no offense.” Steve pat him on the back, the brief contact sending more sparks through his veins.

“Yeah, in 1985 I’d probably be doing something destructive right about now.” Eddie agreed. “But the me of 1987 can’t really muster up the energy for another panic attack after finding out about inter-dimensional portals or. You know. Everything else that happened.” Wow, real smooth Eddie, way to kill the mood of whatever fever dream was happening right now.

“Besides,” he tried for a joke. “1987 Eddie has a high school diploma. My brain’s so full of facts there’s no more room for anything else unless we shove it into my mouth and—“ His eyes widened as he caught up with what he was saying. He ducked to hide behind his hair. “Uh, what I mean was, um. Yeah I’ve got nothing to say for that.”

Steve gave another adorable snort and walked closer. “We may have to work our way up to that one, but maybe I could give your mouth something else to put its lips around instead?”

“Dude that doesn’t even—what, do you want me to vacuum seal your mouth with mine? How would we, wait, please tell me that isn’t the secret move you pulled that had all the cheerleaders in school losing their minds over?” Eddie squeaked out.

Steve blushed again even as he laughed. “First of all I only ever actually dated like, three people in high school, I wasn’t as big a slut as rumors made me out to be. And okay that might have sounded better in my head, but in my defense I kind of can’t think of anything but kissing you right now.”

Eddie rapidly nodded his head. “Yes, that’s. We should do that. Please.” After a slight roadblock in which both of them on autopilot tried to take the lead and grab the other’s face, they finally managed to actually press their lips against each other.

And oh. Oh. 

Look, this was far from Eddie’s first kiss. But this was the first time someone still wanted to kiss after seeing him eat eggs with maple syrup on them. Or who knew he secretly slept with his childhood stuffed animal. Because Steve wasn’t angling to get cheaper weed, or trying to get back at his parents by having Eddie knock on the door in his ripped jeans for a date.

Steve knew Eddie’s whole sordid history, and kissed him anyway, holy shit.

The kiss itself was short and relatively chaste. But after they stopped, Steve didn’t immediately lean out of Eddie’s space. Instead he gave the tip of Eddie’s nose a quick peck before resting their foreheads together. A giggle bubbled up out of Eddie’s chest.

Steve rapped his knuckles on Eddie’s head. “Everything okay up there?”

“You like me. Steeeeve Harringtonnn likes me!” Steve smiled softly at him as he cupped Eddie’s cheek in his palm.

“Yeah, I do, you big dork. And I’d love to continue this, but because someone sprayed whipped cream onto my junk, I need to go shower it off before it gets even crunchier because wow, this is uncomfortable.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that again. But if you want maybe uh, maybe I could join you and actually help clean it off?”

Steve smirked. “I think we can work something out, yeah. Come on.”

Running up the stairs while Steve tightly held his hand, Eddie decided that perhaps this time, his brain might have had the right idea after all.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that evening:

Eddie: "Wait, I was flirting with you the entire Spring Break from hell wasn't I."

Steve: "That was point #1 on Robin's 'Eddie is into you' list."

Eddie: "In hindsight this does explain why she kept saying I could be myself around her last week. I used the opportunity to give her a 2 hour long intro to metal music lesson."

Steve: "Yeah, she said I still owe her for that."

@augustjustice @stellarspecter Come get your fast burn Steddie!

[hyukasmiles]

—Yeonjun—

Yeonjun misses you. Misses you so so so bad, hates when he has to be away from you. Texts you over and over and over again that he wishes you were with him, pouts to his members when you reply that he’ll be home in a few days and it’ll be ok.

He knows it’s true, two more days in Japan and he’ll be back in your arms, but here; alone in his hotel room he’s so overwhelmed with missing you tears well up in his eyes.

You pick up his facetime almost immediately, your tired, pretty features making him miss you more. “Awe..” You coo, kissing your screen. “My Junnie is crying.”

“I miss you.” His frown hurts. “My heart hurts.”

“I miss you too! So excited for you to come home!” You shift, so innocently, just trying to get comfortable but your pretty tits come into his view and Yeonjun is reminded of another thing he misses. “You’ve got my perfume, spray it on your pillow it might help you sleep.”

The tank top you’re wearing is so thin, pretty nipples almost completely visible through the fabric. “Yeah… that’s a good idea.” He doesn’t tell you he’s already drenched his bed and clothes in it, or that he’s quickly getting hard in his pants.

“Three days, Junnie, you’ll make it.” You move again, yawning and stretching and putting your body on display for him. “I miss you too, I had your hoodie on earlier but it’s too hot for it.”

Surely you won’t notice his hand slipping into his waistband. “We’re coming back a day early this time, so only two.” You make a noise in the back of your throat, eyes going wide as you smile out a yay.

“Really!” Your face presses closer at the same time his hand wraps around his achy cock. “That’s great! I can’t wait!” He can’t either, tempted to book a plane ticket and rush back to you now. “Are you guys having fun in Japan? Do any shopping before the concert?”

“Ye-yeah, I got you some stuff.” Another little noise and his hand slowly tugs upwards in his dick. “A sh- A shirt and some makeup from don quixote.”

“Awe, thank you.” Yeonjun’s hips jump, your hand would feel so much better, any part of you would feel better. Your tits are in his view again and the thought of fucking them draws a whine out of him, stopping you mid sentence. “You ok?”

“Yeah..” His voice is unstable, hand speeding up as you raise an eyebrow. “I’m jus-t tired and miss y-you.” His thumb swipes over his tip and another whine is pulled out of him.

“I guess I should hang up if you’re so tired.” You pull away from the camera, perfect boobs finally on full display for him. He wishes he was there to see them in person, too squeeze and lick and kiss and fuck.

Yeonjun panics a little, hand stopping as you try to say goodnight. “No- no, I want to hear your voice.” He rolls onto his stomach, hips hitting against the mattress. “Need to hear your voice. I just miss you so much.” His phone slips out of his as he reaches for a perfume-soaked pillow, groaning as your smell fills his brain.

“Do you feel good, Junnie?” You coo, seeming to have caught on to him. “Pick me up, I want to see.” Yeonjun props his phone against the bed frame, sitting up to show you his erection. “Look at that, so hard.”

“I miss you. Want to fuck your tits so bad.” You kiss your teeth, free hand cupping your boob and jiggling it a little. “Wanna cum all over them n’ then fuck your pretty cunt.”

“Show me how you’d do it, Junnie.” He picks up the pillow again, folding it in half and sliding his weeping dick between the fold. His knuckles turn white with his grip, hips rolling into the pillow. “Does it feel as good as me?”

“No.” He laughs, hips hitting the pillow harder. “Your cunt is so fucking warm, makes me feel like my dick is gonna melt, and your skin his so soft in my hands. It’s just fucking heaven to fuck you, nothing will ever come close.” You blush at his words, cooing about how sweet he is.

Yeonjun’s hips drop moving to rut against the mattress again, he can feel pressure building up, your pretty face and tits edging his release. “I wanna see you cum, Junnie.” His orgasm hits him then and there, shoulders sagging as he cums over the cotton sheets.

“Fuck- fuck I wish you were here.” His hips slow as he calms down, using his hand to milk out every last bit of cum. “Feels like a waste when my perfect girlfriend looks so pretty covered in my cum.”

—

inbox always open 🎀