#also one of them keeps just walking back and forth by my window and it’s fucking creepy

[ink-the-squid-gremlin]

Wtf is it with dorm areas and having literally 5 fucking outdoor gardener people all with leaf blowers at not even 8 AM? THEY HAVE BEEN HERE SINCE FUCKING 6 AM WTF!!!!!!! THERE IS LITERALLY NOTHING IN THE FUCKING COURTYARD THAT THEY NEED THIS FOR!!!!! THE FUCK ARE YOU USEIN THE LEAF BLOWERS ON, FUCKIN ROCKS????? THERES NO FUCKN REASON FOR THEM TO BE HERE!!!!!!!!!

[devil-in-hiding]

In regards to the sundress blurb for “on the run”, I could see the reader doing some task outside while all 4 boys are sitting at the window watching just straight up oogling. Little comments being shared back and forth like “I think the red dress is my favourite so far” “nah the navy one is definitely the best, maximum cleavage”

oh totally, they’re favorite pass time is ogling you as you just do simple tasks

also 100% have favorite outfits that you wear

Price is the biggest dog when it comes to your dresses, if he could just drop to his knees and press his face to your cunt, he would. It is by the will of God that this man doesn’t flip your dresses up every second of the day, just a peak of your panties gets him leaking

Gaz loves your cut off shorts, watching the way they ride up as you walk, giving him the perfect view of your ass jiggling, pulling tight any time you bend over, he knows he could tear those things off with his bare hands (would meanly give you a wedgie just to hear the punched out whine you make. he’s so pretty but so mean)

Soap is a dog for just about anything you wear, but he’s especially weak for when you “accidentally” end up in one of their shirts, it doesn’t even matter if it’s actually Soap’s. Seeing you in one of their jackets or t-shirts, smelling like them gets his blood pumping. Glued himself to you in the mornings when you’re wearing HIS shirt, trying to imprint his scent on you

Ghost is a simple man. He just wants to bunch those damn nightgowns up over your tits and leave his mark. The rare nights that you join them in their room for shitty cable, clad in only your nightgown he just about makes his palms bleed to keep himself in check. The way they hug you, the older one’s stretching taunt over your chest, giving him a glimpse of your pebbled nipples from the cold air

[beanlot]

indecision

ellie wants you back, even though she ended the relationship.

wc: 2.1k (angst + smudge of fluff)

─── ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ───

“just get it over with, please.” she exhales jaggedly, smell of rubbing alcohol poisoning your nose as you apply pressure onto her wound. she’d been shot with an arrow, one you’d had to snap to pull out of her, but it’s nothing she hasn’t handled before.

she didn’t squirm, or whine when you bandaged her up. she sat still and took it, clenching onto the old and tattered leather seat.

you’d dated ellie for a shaky and indulgent two years before. your relationship at first was it - it was her looking at you when she’d done something clumsy or funny in hopes to see you laugh, it was holding each other tightly after you’d gotten separated, it was her lips kissing at your skin fruitfully. you remember it so clear.

“mm. baby.. baby..” you hear her voice, low and groggy. you’ve woken her up, shuffling around endlessly for half an hour trying to sleep. “baby.. shh. relax.. relax with me, you’re fine.” her hand settles on your hip, and she’d bring you in closer, tatted arm ravelling around your stomach. she was so gentle, so guiding, so protecting. “shh.. i’m here. i’m here, my love..”

ellie felt bad for ending it, it was necessary. there were times where she’d refuse to communicate, you would lose your temper, and start yelling at each other. you’ve grown hard around the edges over the years, your skin is scarred and tormented. it’s not your fault.

“oh shut the fuck up, ellie!” you spat at her. truth is, your arguments brewed for a few weeks. it started with glares, sly comments and ignoring eachother until it erupted. “you always do this, speaking to me like you’re so much better just becau-“

“speaking to you like what? just because i don’t sit on my ass here all day whilst everyone else does the work?”

the best thing to do was to break up, for both of your sakes. you were fine with it at first, you knew it was for the fucking best. you were starting to despise eachother’s company; you knew you’d get over it. because just like the scars and torment weren’t your fault, ellie was often blinded by hatred and impulse, it’s how the world shaped her.

“you know what.. i think.. we should just.. stop.” ellie scoffs.

“stop what?”

“us. it’s not fucking working. i can’t stand you.”

but what you couldn’t get over was overhearing her speak with dina, flirty and sultry tones bouncing back and forth between them a week later. they’d slept together, not long after that breakup.

and here you are, a few months later, knelt in front of her to relieve her physical pain.

“thanks..” a quiet whisper left her as you shoved the materials back into your bag. you’re still on high alert, ellie says that you always are, it’s like walking on eggshells being in a room with you.

she watches as you keep your eyes on the windows, peering through the blinds, your pupils narrow like the scope of a sniper. she tries to lighten the mood, tries to relax you a little. “a year ago, you would’ve passed out.” she jokes, a breathy laugh leaving her. but you don’t laugh.

i think that’s also what ate away at ellie during the end of the relationship. you used to have fun, and live, and look forward to the next day. but you’re a different mind in the same shell she used to love, and part of her believes she’s accountable for not being there for you.

you hear her whisper, as you sink into the chair opposite her, your head leant back towards the ceiling. “you okay..?” her voice is cautious, but she knows what’s up, she’s not stupid.

“fine.” you state bluntly.

it’s silent. she feels hopeless. you’re so cold now. but on the bright side, at least she no longer has to listen to your words of kindness easing her through the pain, or drink the poison of your fucking maturity.

“i’m sorry. for it.” you hear her. she’s darting her eyes around your body, the long scar under your jawline, the scratches on your wrist from trying to slice nettles out of the way. you try not to smile at her apology, because it’s pathetic. “it’s whatever.” you respond, your voice uninterested.

you feel sour thinking about it now, actually. you could’ve left her to those hunters, left her to infected, left her to bleed out and clean her wounds herself. “did you enjoy it?” you impulsively ask her, a saltiness to your tone that she was anticipating.

her stomach still drops though, and she can sense the eggshells cracking around her. “what?” she mutters, her eyes narrowing at you as you look at her. you used to look at her with delicacy, adoration, desire. but now your eyes are empty, glossed over; ellie could only describe it as you looking through people rather than actually looking at them.

“you know. sleeping with her that quickly, was she good? worth?”

it’s silent, and you’re both staring at eachother with challenging eyes of contempt. she gets it, understands your anger, yet she also can’t seem to wrap her head around your entitlement. “what are you sa-“

“scale of 1 to 10.”

“what the fuck are you saying?” ellie’s voice goes up a pitch. she wish she could stand up and grab your throat, try and knock some sense into you. but not only is the pain in her shin holding her back, it’s also the fact you’d hold up an ambiguous fight. “are you serious?” she leans forward in disbelief.

but when you don’t respond, your gaze unfaltering, she sighs.

“i don’t know.. like.. an eight, i guess..”

it was a rhetorical question, asshole.

you’re sure she answered it out of spite, and you feel internal rage. but you don’t let it show, you just nod with pursed lips. “i’m happy for you.” you state coldly. you wish you had the heart to just leave her here, take shimmer up north back to jackson, but you don’t.

it’s silent for a few minutes. she’s often glancing back at you, already regretting her answer. although it was a truthful answer, she should have kept her mouth shut. but the damage has already been done, she sees it honing on your face as you look elsewhere.

“i’m..” she starts, sighing. “i’m sorry.. that was fucked, it’s all fucked.” she shakes her head. you’d been forgiving and graceful enough to snap an arrow and pull it out her leg, bandage it up for her. and yet she sits here as if she uses that same arrow to pierce at your heartstrings, play you like an instrument, even if you act as if it’s not affecting you under your stoic mask.

“can you come here…

please..?”

you look at her, and her eyes are brimmed with vulnerability. you stay in your seat for quite some time, until you muster up the patience to approach her.

she feels you dip into the space beside her. she wants to reach out, touch your skin, marshmallow you up how she used to. but she knows she can’t, she has no right. “you don’t have to forgive me.. i just..” she whispers. “i wanna say i fucked it all up, for us. i know i did..”

you digest her words, your eyes darting around the ceiling in contemplation.

“i just don’t..” she pauses, her eyes ponder down to her thighs, and then down to her bandage that you had wrapped. she’s trying to word her next sentence without it sounding so morbid, but she cant. “i don’t wanna lose you one day, knowing you hated me.” she murmurs, waiting for an inkling of emotion on your face - anything, she’ll take anything - but it doesn’t come.

she’s dreamt about it. having you in her arms, choking on your own blood, using your last efforts just to spit out a malicious i hate you.

“i thought the.. whatever with dina would’ve got rid of you.” ellie squeezes her nose bridge, trying to explain in a way that doesn’t sound so bullshit. she doesn’t want to say that she had sex with her, even though that’s what it was. “i fucked her over too.. she didn’t do anything wrong, but she was.. just there.”

wow, you really are a scummy piece of shit, els.

she knows what you’re thinking when she looks over at you, your eyes nailing into her. “i know..” she whispers, and you notice her hand slowly raising, hesitant to graze your own. you flinch when she does this, and she notices your hand inching away from hers. “i know it sounds bad. because it is, it’s my fault.”

she looks down at your hand, her eyes desperate, pupils dilated when they look at you. “please let me..” her voice is tender, affectionate with you. you’re invested in it slightly, letting her nails run along your palm, her touch a wintry feather tickling your skin.

“i just.. i’ll do anything. anything to make it up to you, no matter how long it takes.” she whispers, and you feel her touch leaving your hand. you feel like ice when it does, only to feel piping hot again when she cups your cheek. it’s intimate, but it’s genuine: it’s regret and sorrow, self-hatred and adoration. “i just want you to know, that i know i’m a fucking asshole, i still am..”

“you make me sick.” your voice is piercing and cold towards her. but she understands your rage, and she takes it, absorbing it with accountability. “i needed you. and you fucking left me.”

ellie’s gaze is weak. she’s thinking of your pain, of your scar-covered back and tormented bruises. the ones she couldn’t be there to kiss and treat. when you had came back from torrington after a few weeks’ travel, and she had heard from maria that you were ‘all kinds of fucked up’ and ‘in need of stitches’ under the jaw, she’d dissociated for hours in her room.

she could’ve been there, could’ve helped stop the bleeding, could’ve killed the bastards who had done it to you. prevented it in the first place. you were always there for every tear that dropped from her pretty eyes, every injury, every nightmare. and yet you did it all alone.

“i know.. i know.” she whispers, and you close your eyes when you feel her forehead press against yours. it’s not romantic, it’s just impulse. she wants to just feel close with you again, absorb your warmth, feel the safe haven she neglected and left to rot. “i’ll do anything. you have no idea. anything, i’m begging you.”

you can feel her breath, she’s so close to you, so hurt. she knows she has so many - too many - amendments to make for you.

“i almost died yesterday.”

her whisper is faint, and her eyes are focused on everything, yet nothing at the same time. glossed over in daydream, inanimate and empty. “we were.. i don’t know, going down the southeast, by those cabins..” she tries to recall, memories blurred with the overwhelming poison of your ill feelings towards her. “this guy.. i was just on the floor suddenly, and he’s coming down at me with an axe.

and if it wasn’t for jesse, i would’ve..” she continued, pausing before her eyes glint. “but in my last fucking moments, all i could see was your face. and i just.. i didn’t feel fear, i just.. felt so much regret. and, love. worried about what would happen to you after.”

her words were reluctant at first, but came streamlining out of her mouth when she’s reminded of each emotion that came with having her back against the mud, life flashing between her eyes, the split-second images of your pretty face next to the fireplace. the way you called her name, ellie, so vanilla. so clean. so smooth.

“i felt like.. i just should’ve told you everything, talked it out. i don’t want you to feel bad for me. i’m just.. i am begging you..” she repeats, a faint and delicate whisper against your lips. “if you want me to disappear, i’ll go. i’ll never bother you, you’ll never see me again in that fucking town..”

something about that proposal doesn’t sit right with your heart, or your head. you can’t tell. a part of you wants to slap the shit out of her, and another part wants to kiss at those lips - not out of love, but out of hateful lust.

“it was never about you. it was about.. me. my failure to be a decent fucking person, to be the person you.. needed. it was my own weakness.”

you sluggishly and reluctantly pull away from her, and watch as her gaze softens into disappointment. “i should.. go check on shimmer.” you whisper, rising to your feet, emotionally warped. “you just.. sit here and rest..”

she has to accept consequences of her own actions.

as you start walking backwards and turn away from her, you can just hear all the emotions inside screeching in your head. it’s loud, blinding, deafening; you know ellie experiences it too, the same voices that just get too much. maybe that’s what dina was to her, white noise to dilute them.

she wants to chase you back, grab your wrist and talk it out. but the throbbing tremors from her wounded leg force her to slump back down into the chair with a defeated sigh. she lets you go, just this time, not willingly.

[steddieprompts]

Wrote a whole mini-fic again. sorry.

High School, no Upside Down, platonic Steddie:

Sometimes Steve wants to be left alone. Sure the popularity has its perks, but it can also wear a guy down. There's no quiet in his social life. Tommy and Carol are always badgering him about things and girls are vying for his attention. It's nice but... it's just alot.

That's why Steve is ducking through the library door during his lunch period instead of going to the cafeteria. He squat-walks behind the low book shelves to wards the back of the library hoping Kelly didn't see him out in the hall. She's been haunting his locker the last two days and while she's cute, she's not really Steve's type and he hates letting girls down.

He reaches the back of the library and opens one of the study room doors, swings inside quickly and shuts the door with a soft click. Letting out a deep breath he presses his forehead to the worn wood. Finally, some quiet.

"Uh..." Steve nearly jumps out of his skin at the voice. He whips around to see Eddie Munson at the table. "Sorry, your highness. Occupied."

Steve lets out another breath (Jesus, can't he catch a second to breathe around here?). "Shit, Munson, you scared the hell out of me."

"A thousand apologies," Eddie replied sarcastically. "Now, if you don't mind?" Eddie made a shooing motion towards the door.

Steve looked through the door window and out into the library... Kelly had seen him. She was slowly making her way across the library, head swiveling back and forth like some sort of search dog on the scent.

Steve pulled away from the window, back flat against the door.

"Look, Eddie, I promise I won't mess with you. You won't even know I'm here."

Eddie's eyes flicked to the window before a pointy smirk crossed his face. "Now that's interesting. What's got the great Steve Harrington hiding out in a room with the freak?" Eddie moved to the window, peering out like Steve had. "Kelly Jacobs? That's who you're hiding from?"

"She wants to go out with me but I hate trying to let them down easy because it never works and she's not my type and I don't even want to date anyone right now and my head hurts and..."

"Alright, easy there, playboy." Steve leveled a look at him before Eddie looked back out the window.

"Uh, she's uh..."

"What?"

"She's coming." Eddie said.

They moved at the same time, Eddie throwing himself back into his chair and Steve throwing himself behind the big wooden desk, hoping the angle and the other chair were enough to hide him.

He held his breath as the door clicked open.

"Have you seen Steve?" He heard her ask, could see her sneakers through the tangle of table and chair legs.

"Steve who?" Eddie asked dismissively.

"Harrington." She replied impatiently.

"The hair? Haven't seen a strand of him."

Steve heard Kelly let out a scoff and shut the door but not before a quiet "freak" floated into the room.

Once the door had clicked shut Steve let his head fall back against the wall with another sigh, closing his eyes. There was a few seconds of quiet before he heard the creak of Eddie's chair. He squinted his eyes open to see Eddie peering at him over the edge of the desk.

"Such a charming young lady. You sure you don't want to..."

"No." Steve cut him off. "Thanks... for all that."

"Yeah, let's not make it a habit. Trying to keep my conscience clean and lying to the student body isn't helping." Eddie said with mock sincerity. Steve huffed out a laugh at that.

They didn't say much for the last ten minutes of the period, but Steve did get up and sit catty corner from Eddie at the study table, head pillowed on his arms and eyes closed. Ten minutes of beautiful quiet.

Problem was that ten minutes was addicting. Steve didn't hang out much at the library before... except when he was dating Nancy... but now he's seeing the advantage.

The next week Tommy had hinted at ditching after lunch so they wouldn't have to put up with Mrs. O'Donnell's class, but Steve was barely making it through her class as it was. If he missed another class he probably would fail, then he wouldn't graduate. Plus they had an essay due in her class at the end of the week that Steve had barely started...

He ducked into the library again before Tommy could track him down in the hall. Quickly he made his way to the study rooms, two of which were occupied by actual study groups and one... well.

Steve cracked open the door and stared at Eddie until he looked up from his, again, numerous notebooks and books.

"Again?" Eddie sighed.

"Listen, I promise I'll leave you alone like last time." Steve said stepping into the room.

"You should probably just tell her instead of running away from her. That's gotta be bad for your image, no?"

Steve slumped into his chair and ran his hands over his face. "It's not Kelly."

"Oh, a new admirer. Probably shouldn't be running from them either, honestly..."

"No! No, it's Tommy."

Eddie let out a low whistle, "Wow. Didn't know he swung that way. I guess all those accusations he threw at me were a little hypocritical."

"What? No! Tommy's not gay! Jesus."

"It's okay if he is. You should be flattered..."

"Dude!" Steve squawked at him. A slow smirk spread over Eddie's face. "Oh, fuck you, man." Steve laughed and Eddie chuckled in response.

"Why are you avoiding him?"

"He wants to ditch, but I can't miss O'Donnell class again."

Eddie let out a sympathetic groan and held up one of the notebooks. The words "State's Rights and the Civil War" were scrawled across the top.

"You too?" Steve winced. Eddie nodded.

"Maybe we can help each other." Steve said, cautiously. It was one thing to invade Eddie's space. Suggesting they work together was an entirely different beast.

"Aren't you failing?" Eddie squinted at him.

"Didn't you already fail once?" Steve squinted back.

"Yeah. Sure. This can't backfire in the slightest." Eddie said before sliding over so he was directly in front of Steve. "Let's do this, Big boy." Steve raised an eyebrow but got out his notebook none the less.

Steve met Eddie in the library for the next three days. He told Tommy and Carol that he needed some time to study. No, they couldn't come with him, can't they spend three days on their own? Jesus.

He conveniently left Munson out of the conversation. He didn't want to here what Tommy and Carol had to say about him studying with "the freak."

And it turned out Eddie was actually really good at understanding history... Steve just had to keep him on track.

"Dude, if you open that dragon nerd book one more time I'm taking that sandwich back." Steve huffed at Eddie who pulled the half of Steve's sandwich that he gave him to his chest.

"Finders keepers." Eddie said taking a huge bite.

"Dude, I gave it to you." Steve said through a chuckle.

They turned in their essays on Monday. That Wednesday Steve slammed into the study room.

"Jesus! You scared the shit outta me, Steven." Eddie said, dramatically clutching his chest. Steve was already swinging his backpack off his shoulder and throwing a ziplock bag of cheez-its at Eddie.

"Did you get it back?" Steve asked, dropping into his seat.

Eddie stared at him for a second before reaching into his bag and pulling out his essay, slapping it down in front of Steve.

"B minus." Eddie said, barely keeping the grin off his face. "She gave me the most evil look when she gave it back." Eddie smirked.

"Dude! Awesome!" Steve said grinning at the paper. "I hope mine was enough."

"It will be. It was solid, man, don't worry."

Steve looked up at him with so much sincerity Eddie almost felt like he should look away. "Thank you, Eddie."

Eddie shrugged.

"I mean it." Steve insisted.

"Yeah... no problem." Eddie murmured. Steve nodded and then pulled his bag into his lap, taking out a notebook and his lunch.

That night found Eddie on the phone with Jeff, describing the last few weeks and his encounters with Steve.

"He's been coming into the library during my study hall period. We worked on O'Donnell's essay together. He *feeds me,* dude!"

"Feeds you?"

"He keeps, like, giving me parts of his lunch!"

"He-" Eddie could hear Jeff starting to laugh. "He actually-" Jeff cuts himself off with his own laughter.

"Jeffery!"

"You're friends with The Hair!" Jeff finally gets out.

"Oh.. shit," Eddie considered it for a minute. "No way. We just had a mutual essay. right?"

Jeff's laughter finally calms down. "I dont know, man, sounds like more than that."

"... Harrington?" Eddie mused in amazement.

"I told you he wasn't that bad." Jeff gloated.

"Shut up."

The next few days Steve didn't storm into Eddie's study room, but Tuesday he did.

"Hey." He said, sitting down at the desk.

"Hey." Eddie said, watching him and expecting Steve to say something. But he just pulled out what seemed to be algebra homework, and his lunch, and didn't say anything.

"What?" Steve finally said, looking back at Eddie.

"Nothing. Just. ya know, thought after you got through the essay you'd go back to, ya know, Tommy and Carol."

Steve shrugged, taking half his sandwich and sliding the other half, still in the bag, over to Eddie. "Didn't feel like dealing with them today."

"Wait..." Eddie said, slow smile growing on his face, "You, Steve Harrington. would rather hang out with me, Eddie "the freak" Munson, than Tommy and Carol."

"Don't call yourself that. And yeah. At least you don't try to stuff freshmen into lockers."

"Oh my god, Jeff was right!"

"Huh?"

"We're friends!" Eddie smiled, what probably seemed a little manically, at Steve.

"Uh, yeah..." Steve timidly offered back.

"Let me tell you something, Harrington," Eddie chuckled, picking up the sandwich, "This is not how I saw my super senior year going."

Steve shrugged and pulled Eddie's Dungeons and Dragons manual towards him, flipping open the cover. "So how does this game work anyways?"

Eddie grinned. "Strap in, Stevie, you've got alot to learn."

[pjsfvs]

Angry sex with Tyun

paring : dom!taehyun x afab!reader

warnings/tags : angry sex, window/wall sex, im to lazy to do the rest.

summary : You and taehyun get into a heated argument, which leads to some good angry sex.

a/n : don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

“Taehyun, I told you, I’m done talking about this. I said I was sorry.”

“You were being irrational, Y/N?! Seriously?! You can’t just go charging into my rehearsal like that begging me to come along with you, for fucking boba! What if the members got distracted. Hm? They could have been hurt or worse!”

“I get that you were worried about them, and I know I was wrong for doing that, but you're the one who told me you were on break. It is not my fault. You can't put the whole blame on me.”

“Your so fucking annoying sometimes.”

“God, can you shut up and listen to me!? I don't know why I have to re-explain this to you again.” Taehyun stare at you incredulously, ready to interrupt but you continue on, “You told me that you missed me, and I wanted to see you, so I came when you texted me you were on break.”

“How long do you think our breaks are huh? Knowing we're about to have a comeback. Just how fucking long do you think these breaks last!?”

The argument is never-ending. Sweaty and red-faced, Taehyun is so close. So close that you can still smell the scent of spear mint on his breath from the gum he's been chewing. So close that you can see the dark circles under his eyes from the sleepless night and the height of his body, creating a shadow over your body. Your chests touch, both heaving from yelling back and forth. Staring him in the eyes, you have nothing else to say; left to communicate all your frustration through a silent glare. Neither one of you wants to be the first to break.

“Taehyun, I’m done doing this whenever you and the guy have a comeback. You can’t keep telling me to come see you while on break, just to get pissed at me afterwards. I’m done with that. I’m fucking done.” You keep repeating that last line to yourself more so than to him. A realization coming over you that you might not just be done arguing with Taehyun over this particular topic. You might also be finished with your relationship. If he wouldn’t make time, to see you, what's the point. Just one fucking glance, that's all you could ask for. If this is what you had to go through each time, you weren’t sure you could handle it.

Through his anger, Taehyun gives you a look of desperation, hoping that you both could come to some agreement. Shaking your head, you turn and walk away. You have nothing left to give.

“No. You don’t get to walk away like you always do. Not this time!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulders and pressing you against the very door you were prepared to leave though. Pushing him away does nothing. He just comes back, forcing your back against the door again with a resounding thud. You want to deny it but the roughness of how he handles you causes a spark within you. You’re certain it’s affecting Taehyun too from the way his half-hard member brushes against you.

“Tyun…” You’re cut off by a passionate kiss. Your body denies your rational mind by returning the kiss. It’s nothing like your normal exchange. It’s heated, teeth clanging against each other, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and fighting for complete dominance.

Clothes are torn from each of your bodies, no care given to the sounds of ripping fabric and buttons hitting the floor. Your sole focus is on each other.

“Up” he commands, grabbing at your hips. Taking his cue, you jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Nipping along your jaw, he leaves a stinging trail of red marks on your skin. You hiss when bites down harshly at the juncture of your shoulder. Continuing on his intended path, Taehyun attaches his mouth to one of your perky nipples, swirling his tongue around it before sucking.

The heels of your feet pressed into his lower back, bringing him closer to your core. His throbbing member slips through your folds, pressing against your clit. Focused on your own pleasure now, you repeat the action, grinding yourself against his cock.

“Stop it.” He growls out in response to your tempting actions. The head of his member prods against your sensitive bud as Taehyun ruts his hips unexpectedly. You yelp in surprise but don’t stop.

“You need to fucking listen. You never listen.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, smirking at him in defiance.

“That’s what I plan on doing to do you, sweetheart.”

Not waiting for your reply, Taehyun enters your wet core without warning causing you to throw your head back. Any advantage you thought you had is now gone as you succumb to the pleasure. As you sink on to his thick cock, Taehyun groans lowly, enjoying the feeling of your warm pussy that is so inviting to slip into.

“Gonna fuck you so good.”

You chuckle at his comment, knowing it will provoke him. And that’s just what it does. Without pulling out of you, Taehyun unwinds your legs from his waist and pushes them towards your chest by the knees. The new position gives him a new angle to hit and he begins to thrust into you without control. His pace is frenzied and brutal as he abuses your pussy.

Clawing at his shoulders, your first orgasm washes over you but he gives you no time to bask in it. Even as your core clenches around his member, he continues to fuck you senseless, pushing you through your first orgasm and works you close to a second.

Taehyun watches, fully mesmerized, as his member pumps in and out of you. His cock is slick with your wetness making it easier for him to push back in and keep his rhythm.

“So close. Don’t fucking stop,” You announce your impending orgasm to him, not that he needed you to tell him. He knows from the way your core pulses that you’re almost there. So is he; ready to spill his load into you. Pumping into you deeper, Taehyun’s cock hits the perfect spot, causing jolts of electricity to course throughout your lower half.

Your second orgasm rocks you so hard and you go limp in his arms. A few more thrusts and he followed right behind you. His cock throbs inside you as his cum coats your walls. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Tae’s heavy breaths fan over your heated skin, sending a chill through you.

After helping you to wrap your legs back around him, he carries you to your shared bed; laying you down gently. Climbing in next to you, he tugs you to his chest making sure you are tucked comfortably against him.

“I’m sorry, ya know. You’re a damn good girlfriend, Y/N. I know that. I just don’t want anyone to get distracted and end up hurt because of you. If that happens, they might not let you visit the building anymore and I don't want that to happen.”

With much of your frustration gone, you realize you may have been too hard on Taehyun. He cares about you and doesn't want anyone on his team to get hurt.

“I know. I just want you to make some time for me. Even if its one minute of your time. I miss you."

"I know baby, I know. I'll try and make at least 10 minutes for you on busy days, on free days we can go on the cute dates you told me about doing. I promise."

[kamii-2]

Could you do nika muhl smut where nika and her girl go out with the team and someone starts flirting with nikas girl like so much and she gets all jealous and possive LIKE YUHHHH MABYE CAR SEX

hi anon, i hope you enjoy!! (this is gonna set when nika went to uconn bc idk much about seattle storm) also im gonna start adding songs to stories if i feel like they fit the story

warning(s): cussing, smut, jealousy

genre: smut

pairing(s): jealous!nika mühl x reader

==================================

you and nika were out with the entire uconn team, getting drinks and talking about everything and everyone.you were all sitting at a table. you drink was empty so you went to get another one “i’ll be back im gonna go get another drink.” you tapped nika on the thigh before getting up and grabbing your cup and going to the bar. while at the bar a guy walked up next to you, “hey.” he greeted, “hi.” you were being nice but you hoped and prayed he didn’t flirt with you because if he did nika would lose her shit and you simply didn’t want him to. “so, you alone?” he asked as the bartender gave you your drink. “no, my girlfriend is over there.” you told him while point to nika, trying to a sound as uninterested as possible.

“you’re too pretty to be a lesbian.” your eye widened the moment he said this, “what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, started to get annoyed. “you’re too hot to be going after girls, why not leave with me so i can show you how much better i am than her.” he offered. “i’m good.” you reply as you try to leave but he goes in front of you, “let me go.” you say as you try to find a way out. he ignored you and continued to trap you between him and the bar. nika is as confused on why you are gone for so long so she turned around and seen the guys all up on you and got up to figure out what’s going on.

she pushed him off of you and you quickly walked next to her, “go sit down, i’ll handle him.” she told you as you obeyed instantly. “what happened?” azzi asked the moment you sat down. “he ask me if i was alone and i told him i had a girlfriend and he told me i was too pretty to be gay then i don’t even know what he tried to do after.” you said while fixing your bracelets. “he was like trying to keep me there. he wasn’t letting me leave but nika‘s spidey senses were on or something and she came at the right time.” you told the basketball team as they all started to talk about men and the ups and downs about them. when nika returned you looked pissed. “what did you to him?” you asked while turning you attention to her, “just know he won’t ever mess with a girl like that ever again.” she replied while grabbing her phone off the table.

about 15 minutes later nika was still mad, “do you want to go home?” you whispered in her ear, instead of answering she just told everyone you guys were gonna leave and got up, dragging you with her. “y/n’s gonna get it good.” you heard ice say as you two walked away, you looked back at her and nodded and mouthed ‘yes i am.’ making the whole team laugh. as you two walked out, nika held your hand tightly the whole way to the car. when you reached the car she opened the back instead of the front. you immediately got excited and got in, nika getting in the back with you. the moment the door shut she started to make out with you. you straddled her lap and put the hands on both sides of her face, her hands went down to your hips and made you grind against her.

she lifted you up slightly and moved you to one of her thighs, making you grind back and forth. you breathed heavily as she made you grind faster, “fuck nika.” you whimpered while breaking the kiss and leaving your head on her shoulder. sje continued to help you ride her thigh until you came on her clothed thigh. she laid you down on the seat with your head against the window. she touched your dress up to your stomach then took your panties off, tossing them to the ground. she dove into your pussy, licking you like you were ice cream. you moaned loudly as she continued to eat you out. “holy shit!” you cried, your legs starting to shake slightly.

“oh i-i’m gonna cum. nika please do not stop im gonna cum.” you whined as your legs shook more. you were so close to cumming it felt like you were going to burst all on her. after a few more seconds you came on her mouth, she came back up and wiped her face with her hands. “did i give it to you good?” she asked with a slight smirk, at first you were confused then you realized she was talking about what you said, well really mouthed earlier. you smiled back and nodded, “yes you did.” you gave her a kiss then picked up your panties and put them back on, pulling your dress down after. “let’s go home, then we can finish this.” you told her while getting ready to get out and walk to the front.

when you slightly opened the door you heard the team talking. “nika’s car is still here.” you heard paige say as you opened the door completely and got out, you smiled and waved at them. “there is absolutely no way.” aubrey said while laughing, “i’m never sitting in your car again nika.” kk said with a look of disgust. you laughed with them then got in the passenger seat, nika getting in a few seconds later. “i can’t believe they walked out at the same time.” nika laughed as she started the car and started to drive. “that’s lowkey embarrassing.” you laughed with her.

==================================

i hope you enjoy and i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[xx-like-a-villian-xx]

I'd Love To Watch

You’re forced to share a room with Noah and he wonders what book you’re reading.

This one is for all my dark romance reading babes, stay slay 🥀

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, (I have so many WIPs)

CW: one bed trope (ugh my fave), mentions of dark romance, fingering, Noah is a MUNCH, squirting, forced proximity (let me know if I need to add any more)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, staring at the second suitcase in the bedroom that you called dibs on when you arrived at the Airbnb. “Matt, who put their shit in my room?” You call out to your best friend and tour manager who walks towards you, a smug smirk on his face.

”Well Noah kept saying he would take the couch but there’s a California King in there so I told him he should just bunk in with you tonight.” He leans against the doorframe, grinning. “Call it team building.”

”Team building?” You scoff, exasperated.

All you want is one night to yourself without being stuck in a bus full of sweaty guys and Matt thinks it's funny to let the man you’ve been trying to avoid all tour share your room.

Noah doesn’t like you, it’s been clear since day one. Every time he talks to you he’s so patronising and cocky it makes your blood boil but it’s not like you can say much. You’re just their merch girl after all, replaceable. If it wasn’t for Matt you wouldn’t even have the opportunity so you keep your mouth closed and stay out of Noah’s way unless it’s important.

“Does Noah know that we’re sharing?” You fold your arms over your chest, staring at your best friend.

Matt chuckles. “More than aware, he actually seemed fine with it.” Your eyebrow raises in surprise and he laughs. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watch Matt retreat to his room and get to work pulling your pyjamas out from your suitcase, locking yourself in the bathroom to get ready for what you now know is going to be a hell of a long night.

While brushing your teeth you hear someone shuffle into the bedroom and you groan internally. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, you gather your discarded clothes from the day and take a deep breath before opening the en-suite door.

Noah is lying spread eagle on the bed, wearing a pair of basketball shorts with no top, scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence when you put your things back into your suitcase. You roll your eyes, grabbing your book to sit in the window seat across from the bed for a while, quietly reading to yourself. The silence is thick and you can hear his heavy breathing, distracting you from your book.

Your eyes flick from the dark romance novel to the man on the bed, eyes trailing over the expanses of ink that cover his toned skin and you feel heat pooling in your core.

”Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes flick back to the words on the page.

You scoff. “I wasn’t staring, you just breathe really loud and it’s pissing me off.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart.”

The sound of movement reaches your ears but you daren’t look at him, lifting the book higher to hide your red face. Suddenly the novel is snatched from your hands and you scramble to grab it back from him.

”Heartless Heathens?” He hums, holding the book out of your reach as he reads the blurb then flicks through a couple of pages, eyes widening. “Jesus, Y/N. I didn’t realise you were into this kinky shit.”

Your face is tomato red, burning hot as you try to wrestle the book from his hands.

“Noah give me my book back!”

All he does is laugh, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the page I had bookmarked. “Oh my god! ‘Does that tight pussy hurt when my fat cock stretches it out like this?’ Wow…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you squeeze them shut out of embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands.

”You like that shit, huh?” You can hear the amusement in his voice as steps forward, throwing the book down on the window seat. You want the ground to swallow you up when you feel him staring down at you.

You huff, removing your hands from your face. “Loads of people do, it’s just a book.”

“I mean, do you like that stuff? Guys talking to you like that in bed? Asking you if it hurts when they stretch you out on their cock?”

You laugh, he’s joking right? You look up at him and your mouth goes dry when you see his dark eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

”I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, I don’t really have the time.”

Noah looks taken aback at your words and his lips turn up into a smirk. “A pretty girl like you? Surely you have guys begging for a chance in every state we visit.”

You chortle, crossing your arms. “Unlike most guys, I don’t need sex.”

He scoffs, picking the book back up. “So you just read this casually?”

”Most of the time.”

”And the rest of the time?”

The hot flush returns to your cheeks, reaching the tips of your ears. “That’s none of your business.”

He starts to flick through the pages again, humming as he reads. “Can I take a guess?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, go ahead.” You throw yourself down onto the bed, sitting against the headboard as he paces, reading.

“I think you like this Corvin guy most, I can imagine you getting all hot and bothered when you read his parts and you can’t help but find yourself fingerfucking yourself in your bunk when everyone is asleep.” His head tilts when he stops to look at you, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of your arousal, grinning when he sees your thighs clench together. “Am I correct?”

You shake your head in disbelief. What’s his game and why is he trying to get under your skin over some book. Your underwear feels damp from the wetness that is pooling at your core from his words and you have to stop yourself from lunging at him, to either punch him or kiss him…you’re unsure which one would be more satisfying.

”C’mon Y/N, tell me.” He sits next to you, pointing at a section where the main character is riding Corvin. “Is this what you get off to?”

You feel all too hot and bothered with him sitting next to you with his shirt off, tattooed skin taunting you as he tries to coerce the secrets of your alone time out of you.

”If I wasn’t in here right now is that what you’d be doing? Getting off over your little dark romance book?”

”What’s your deal Noah? Why do you want to know about all this?” You sit up straighter and he lounges back, eyeing you humorously.

He shrugs. “It’s just cute that you read this horny stuff. I never took you as the type to get riled up by it, is all.”

”You’d be surprised.” You mumble and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

”You read worse?”

”Oh shut up, Noah. It’s just dumb fiction, why are we even still talking about this?”

He turns to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes burning into the side of your head. “Because I can tell how hot and bothered you are right now and it’s kind of sexy, I must admit.”

You gulp at his words, staring straight ahead in a conscious effort not to look at him or all of your resolve might falter.

”So tell me, were you so pissed about having to share this room because you wanted some special alone time tonight with your little smut novel?”

You can feel his smirk and the tension in the room thickens, turning into a storm cloud of lust.

”You can still do it, you know.”

Your eyes finally dart to his smug face and your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He shrugs casually. “You can still get yourself off, I could read to you if you want?”

Your swallow thickly, your core throbbing at his words. “No, that’s weird.”

Noah chuckles. “Masturbation isn’t we-“

”I fucking know that! What’s weird is you’re my boss and you’re offering to read to me while I make myself cum. Do you hear yourself?”

You can’t lie to yourself, the offer is almost too tempting. It’s not fair that the most attractive man you know is basically offering to help you get your rocks off but he hates you right? He’s always so moody and weird around you. Why is he being like this?

He sits up, scooting closer so your shoulders are touching and he leans close to your ear, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. “Or I could tell you every wicked little fantasy I’ve had about you since you waltzed into the studio with Matt all those years back.’

Your eyebrows raise and you turn to him, his mouth just inches from yours. “You fantasise about me?”

He laughs, a smug sound that makes you want to punch him. “Oh yeah, my favourite is the one where I get to bend you over and rip apart those fishnets you love to wear, the ones with the lace flowers on.” His eyes darken as he reminisces over the lewd thoughts and your mind wanders.

How would it feel to have his hands all over you, tearing away those expensive tights that you adore? How would it feel to have him buried to the hilt inside you as he pushes your head into whatever surface he can find? Fuck its all too much.

”Noah, we shouldn’t talk about this stuff.” You try to reason with yourself but your resolve quickly disappears when his long inked finger trails up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your silky black pyjama shorts.

“Why? We’re both adults.” He smiles almost innocently.

”Because you don’t like me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Since when? Didn’t I just tell you that I literally think about how I want to bend you over?”

You roll your eyes. “You literally talk to me like shit the majority of the time.”

”I like watching you squirm.” His smile is cocky and it only sends more electricity to your core because he’s right, he does make you squirm and you like it too.

A lust filled silence lingers in the air as he stares into your eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips.

”So do you still want to get yourself off, I’d love to watch.” He cocks an eyebrow and there it is, the last of your resolve leaving out the window.

”Fine.”

He’s like a kid in a candy shop when he sits up, watching you lie down on the bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you close your eyes, trying to pretend he isn’t there. You slide the silk shorts down your legs, leaving the black lace thong on and your hand travels over the soft fabric, running over the damp patch that is only getting bigger.

You gasp when you slide your hand between the fabric, fingers slipping between your slick folds, easily finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that's been begging to be touched since you walked out of the bathroom to find Noah sprawled out shirtless on the bed. Oh how you wanted to just climb on top of him, to sink down on his cock like you owned him.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips when you circle your clit, slowly teasing yourself to the images of Noah’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. You feel him shift next to you to get a better look at your movements, how your fingers move under the dark lace of your panties. You hear him take a shaky breath and it sends shockwaves to your sensitive core.

“Does that feel good?” His voice is deep, coarse in your ear and you whine out a confirmation, moving your fingers faster over your clit. “God, you don’t know how good you sound. Do you like it when I talk to you?”

”Y-yes.” You sigh and he chuckles.

”Such a good girl.” He whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Do you want me to tell you what to do, huh? Do you want to be good for me and remove your underwear so I can see how you touch that pretty little pussy? God, I bet it’s so perfect.”

You whimper, using your spare hand to push the lace down your thighs, kicking them off as you toy with yourself. Noah leans forward, a hand landing on your thigh to pull your legs further apart and a feral groan leaves his throat when you spread yourself open for him to see just how wet you are, fingers covered in wet slick.

”Oh fuck, you look so good sweetheart. Show me how you bury those pretty fingers in there.”

You push two fingers into your core, the wet sound reaching your ears. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. You hear Noah’s breathing quicken as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, soft moans leaving your bitten lips.

”Doing so fucking well for me.” The praise feels like heaven when it meets your ears and you speed up, curling your fingers upwards. “Fuck, what I would do to bury my own fingers inside you.”

”Please.” You whine, opening your eyes to look at him, your breath coming out in pants when his lust blown eyes meet yours.

“Please what?” He smirks, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear as you find your clit again, rubbing your soaked fingers over the sensitive bud.

“I need your fingers inside me, please.” You’re so fucking needy and you can tell how much he gets off on it by how his smirk grows into a cruel grin and he holds his fingers against your plump lips.

”Are you gonna suck them for me? Get them nice and wet like the good little slut you are?” Your eyes roll back at his words and he gasps when your tongue swirls around the calloused pads of his fingers, soaking them with your saliva.

He pushes two long fingers into your warm mouth and you hollow your cheeks around them, staring up at him with innocent eyes that make his aching cock strain against his shorts. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and trails them down the valley of your clothed chest, down your navel to where your own fingers are still toying with your clit. Your eyes follow and your hand moves, giving him full access to where you need him most.

”You gonna watch me fuck you with my fingers huh?” He smiles sweetly, sliding his fingers up and down your drenched folds teasingly.

You nod, leaning up on your elbows to watch his slender fingers disappear between your folds, rubbing tight circles around your clit and you gasp his name, your mouth falling open at the immense pleasure. He chuckles, sliding them to your entrance to gather the wetness that pools there, moving back to your clit to play with it all too slowly.

”Please Noah.” You whine and he tuts.

”Be patient, I’ll get there. I want a better look.”

He moves to lie between your legs, pushing your legs further apart to get a good look at your glistening cunt. You can feel his breath hot against you and you could just cum right there without him even touching you, especially with how he looks up at you through those long lashes, eyes black and predatory like he wants to eat you whole.

“You’ve got such a perfect pussy, fuck.” He groans, pushes his long middle finger in, the dark ink disappearing inch by inch inside your cunt and you moan louder than expected, your hand flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, it feels so good, so soft.”

A second finger joins the first and he slowly curls them, finding that spot that leaves you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back, your head lolling back on your shoulders. His spare hand grips your inner thigh with a bruising hold and you're sure there will be bruises there tomorrow but you don’t mind, it feels like heaven.

”My mouth is so close to your pussy I can practically taste you.” He growls and your hips buck, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you. He chuckles darkly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

You sob, nodding enthusiastically.

”Use your words, pretty girl.” He hums, kissing your pelvic bone.

”Please taste me.”

He hums, his hot tongue dragging over your folds before his lips close around your clit, leaving you gobsmacked from how fucking good his tongue feels against you with his fingers fucking into you.

You’re close, you can feel that tightness building in your lower abdomen, so fucking close. His fingers curl faster, his tongue lapping over your clit like you’re the last water source on Earth and you’re falling. Your legs shake, a feral groan leaving your lips as your orgasm rips through your body like a fucking tornado. His fingers only move faster as his lips leave your sensitive clit and you're tipping over the edge again just as quickly, gushing around his fingers and the bed sheets below.

”Fuck, good girl!” He grins, lapping your sweet nectar from your thighs. “Think you’ve got another?”

You have no time to protest, he rises to slide between your thighs, fingers still buried deep inside your cunt as he stares down at you, curling them fast exactly where he knows he can drag another orgasm from you. His free hand covers your mouth when you cum again, screaming into his palm, soaking the front of his shorts where his leaking cock strains against them.

”Good fucking girl, well done!” He kisses your forehead, pulling his drenched hand away from your sensitive core to suck his fingers clean.

You stare at him in bewilderment when he smiles down at you. You’re in shock at how much you just came for a man you thought hated you half an hour ago.

”I think I need to catch you reading more.” He chuckles.

”Shut the fuck up.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into a searing kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“So you two didn’t kill each other last night?” Matt smirks when you make your way downstairs in the morning, wearing one of Noah’s shirts with him freshly showered following behind you.

Folio storms past, looking a little worse for wear. “I would’ve preferred it if they did, I need to bleach my ears.” He groans, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

You blush bright red, throwing a grape at the drummer and Noah wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into his lap.

”Guess my plan worked then.” Matt chuckles, popping a grape in his mouth with a grin.

[littlestarbigsky]

i made this post a few days ago and it’s just been lingering in my head for a while (plus y’all seemed to vibe with it lol), i could talk about ponyboy with water trauma foreverrrr

it’s kinda short but here’s soda washing pony’s hair for him post canon :)

darry set the basket of towels fresh from the dryer on the kitchen table and looked over at soda, who was setting his shampoo and conditioner on the side of the sink.

“where do you want these?” he asked, and soda looked over.

“oh, don’t worry about it, i’ll put them out, thanks, darry.”

darry nodded and busied himself with folding another basket of laundry in the living room. he wanted to be close by in case things went south, and they definitely could if soda wasn’t careful.

soda laid a few of the towels out on the cleared-off kitchen counter, rolling one up and placing it next to the sink and setting another by the shampoo to use for drying when they were finished.

“hey, pony, we’re all ready in here!” soda called, no notes of impatience in his voice, just passing along the message.

after a few minutes, pony sidled out of their room, wrapped up in one of his favorite hoodies. it had once belonged to darry and could swallow the kid whole, but he’d been wearing it nonstop since he’d been back home.

“you ready, kiddo?” soda asked, and pony only shrugged. soda smiled playfully, trying to keep things as lighthearted as they could get, “alright, then step on up. maybe take off that sweatshirt, i’ll get you a towel for your shoulders.”

pony hesitantly pulled the sweatshirt over his head and threw it into the basket with the towels, taking the towel soda handed him.

“want the water warm or cold?” soda asked gently, turning on the sink and checking the temperature with his hand.

the three of them had always gone back and forth with taking cold showers, darry insisted it helped him feel more productive and also helped with all of his muscle tension. soda had done it once and decided he would never do it again, but pony would get in the habit during track season, and had been doing it more often since he’d come home.

“warm,” pony answered quickly. “just not hot…”

“you got it,” soda smiled. “in that case, i think we’re ready, c’mon over.”

pony walked over to the counter and hopped up, laying his head back against the makeshift pillow soda had made with one of the towels. he took a few steadying breaths, listening to the water running. he looked up at the sun catcher in the kitchen window that their mother had painted. he could smell darry’s aftershave on the towel around his shoulders. he took a moment to check in with what was happening in his body; unclench his jaw, stop biting his cheek, keep his breathing as steady as it could be.

soda started slowly by wetting his hands and running them through his hair. he was so careful, taking care to keep the water off of pony’s face and out of his ears, not missing the tension in his shoulders or the stony look in his eyes.

“let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

“i know.”

he squirted some shampoo into his hands and started to work it into ponyboy’s mangled hair. he tried as hard as he could to be gentle, but it was so tangled from not being washed for so long and there was so much grease to work through, compounded over two weeks of improper care.

it was heartbreaking work. it made soda’s heart ache knowing how badly ponyboy had to be feeling if he couldn’t take care of his hair. of course, it wasn’t the same hair he had left home with. it was dried out and chopped awkwardly, soda still felt a little shocked every time he saw pony out of the corner of his eye.

pony flinched when soda worked out an especially tough knot, and soda frowned, “sorry, kiddo, i’m almost done.”

he rinsed out the shampoo as quickly as he could, giving the same treatment with the conditioner.

he couldn’t help but cringe at how botched johnny’s bleach job had really been, some patches a perfect platinum blond and some a bright yellow. pony had called it a halloween costume he was stuck in.

soda’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch as he carded his hands through pony’s dried out ends and saw pieces of his auburn-brown roots starting to come in. it made him feel strangely at peace with the whole thing. their whole world had stopped, or at least it seemed that way, and yet ponyboy’s hair still grew. the world still spun, and with each passing day, the weight of what had happened to them felt less heavy. one day his hair would grow out and maybe he would let them cut it, maybe he would let that part of his pain go.

they were in no rush, they would let it take all the time he needed it to, but it was comforting all the same to know that with every passing day, with every breath, they were getting close to things feeling better. one day closer to the reality of all of their pain not being so fresh.

soda finished up rinsing out the conditioner, shut the water off, and grabbed the towel from the other side of the sink, wringing out the water from pony’s hair. he sat his little brother up on the counter, drying his hair as gently as he could.

he grabbed pony’s face in his hands when he had finished, holding his gaze, “you alright, honey?”

pony swallowed thickly and nodded, “can i have my hoodie?”

soda gave a tight-lipped smile, “of course. do you wanna go sit with darry?”

pony nodded again, shrugging the towel off his shoulders and hopping off the counter. soda handed him the hoodie, warm from the towels, and pony clumsily pulled it over his head, quickly pulling the hood off his wet hair. soda cleaned up the excess water from around the sink as pony dragged his feet over to the couch and flopped down next to darry, his knees tucked into his stomach and his head comfortably laid back against darry’s chest.

darry threw an arm over pony’s shoulders and pulled him into his side, resting his cheek on the top of pony’s head. soda came over after cleaning everything up and piled in next to pony, effectively crushing their baby brother between them.

“you feel better now that that hair is clean?” darry asked, messing it up a little for good measure.

“mhm,” pony nodded, sinking down into the couch and almost burying himself in the material of the hoodie.

“good, can we get you anything?” soda asked.

pony shook his head, “‘m tired.”

“okay,” soda leaned over towards the coffee table and turned the radio down before snuggling back in with his brothers. “you can rest, baby, we’re right here.”

[rileyslibrary]

hii, i love your page, it’s so cute!! i was just wondering, can we have a fic where ghost/the 141 forgets the readers birthday?

tysm,

~ 💖.

A/N: Apologies for the delay, anon! Also, I hope that didn't happen to you, but if it did, happy belated birthday. Here’s your gift, I hope you like it.

��——————————————————————

Type, type, type.

That’s all you’ve been doing since this morning.

Replying to emails, developing the recruits’ training programme for the next week, preparing reports, and going back and forth on that group chat with the engineering team about that stubborn drone that refuses to take off but is mandatory for the next mission.

They wished you a happy birthday. Yes, it was through a faceless and impersonal message, but at least they did.

Unlike him.

He’s been sitting across from you all day, doing the same—typing, typing, typing.

Not at the pace you’ve been going, though. He’s much slower compared to you.

His fingers hesitate as they hover across the keyboard, lacking the speed and confidence he usually has in the field. The keyboard feels foreign in his hands—it’s not an MP5, you see.

His eyes, trained for action, struggle to adjust to the screen in front of him. He types, pauses, looks up at the screen, and then resumes typing. Yet his posture remains rigid like he’s ready for action at any given moment.

“Do you need help?” you ask, noticing his struggle to find the right shortcut for copying and pasting.

“I need a cigarette,” he replies, standing up from his chair. He opens the window, turns his back to you, and lifts his mask halfway.

He opens the packet and bites down on the cigarette filter to extract it from the package. Tilting his head to the side, he lights it up and takes a deep inhale.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Shit.” He swears and shouts at the door to “wait a fucking minute.”

He extinguishes the cigarette, pulls down his mask, and returns to his desk. You wait for him to sit down before inviting the person outside to come in.

Two recruits currently assigned to your team enter the room.

“Happy birthday!” says one, and the other repeats the wishes more timidly.

You give them a warm smile and thank them.

Their eyes, however, often drift from you to him. They look like they regretted coming into the office. Like they’d rather be anywhere else but here.

You empathise with them—you, too, were scared of him when you first came to the base.

You decide to relieve them of their discomfort.

“There are cupcakes in the kitchen,” you say, “please help yourselves.”

You can’t tell if they are too excited about the cupcakes or relieved that they now have a reason to escape the trap they’ve gotten themselves into. With a nod, they quickly exit the room and shut the door behind them.

You turn to the computer screen and continue typing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You slightly turn your head towards him while keeping your eyes on the screen.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?”

“That the sky is blue,” he replies sarcastically. “That today’s your birthday, of course!”

“That’s not the kind of thing you go around telling people, Ghost,” you explain, “besides, you already knew.”

He stands up from his chair, and you turn to look at him.

“Why didn’t you remind me?”

“What should I say, Lt.?” You ask, “Hey, by the way, it’s my birthday today, in case you’ve forgotten?”

“Yes!” He insists, lifting his hands, “Yes, you should have told me that! Then you should have added a ‘you fucking idiot’ to complete the sentence.”

You look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a smirk.

He sighs and drops his hands to his sides.

“Come here,” he says, waving his hand for you to come closer.

You look at him, amused, and your smile widens. Yet you remain seated, and lean back to your chair.

“Come here!” He repeats and starts walking towards you.

You stand up, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, locking your arms to your sides. You hug his waist.

“Happy birthday,” he whispers and leans down, planting a kiss at the crown of your head.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you reply, your words muffled against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, aren’t I?” He murmurs, his lips lingering against your head, “I’m sorry.”

You chuckle and push yourself away to look at him.

“No, you’re not,” you reply, “these things happen.”

He releases you from the hug but keeps his hands on your shoulders.

“Thanks for the cupcakes, by the way.”

“You had one?”

“Two,” he says, letting you go and returning to his desk, “but I didn’t know who they were from.”

You sit back in your chair and continue to type, type, type.

But this time, there’s a smile on your face.

———————————————————————

[vacayisland]

Hiii I saw that you were still doing requests so I was wondering if you could do a John Dory x Reader van life fanfic?

I dont have anything particular to ask for just a little story of how it would be like to live with JD in Rhonda and have a simple life after all of the events that happened with Floyd and stuff :)

@!; "Put on Pants!" John Dory / Reader

"Summary"! You love JD, you really do... but at this point, you're about two seconds from slapping his pants in his face if he won't put them on!... and this is exactly how your mornings always start with your husband <3 "Tags"! Fluff and a dumb plot I made with my friend for a goofy story. Also I'm very very sleepy while writing this <3 I was also being silly, I need to have fun writing <3 @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen

@!; You loved John Dory, you really did. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have married him all those years ago, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have put up with his weird antics or his little shenanigans, if you didn’t you wouldn’t have left your old life behind to start a new one with him, if you didn’t you wouldn’t be here right now arguing about him and his pants! It was a very odd argument, not even an argument more like a back and forth bicker, about John Dory refusing to wear his pants inside of the house. Not only not his pants, but his shirt as well! Now, granted, you understood where he came from. It’s his house as well, you both lived in Rhonda after all, and he did live here first, but you also lived here! And not to get you wrong, you could stare at the site of your husband, nearly, butt naked for hours on end yet… there comes to a point where the pants need to go on. If no one is coming over, JD is walking around in nothing other than his boxers and goggles. Sure he’ll put on pants and the vest you got him if he has to go out. But as soon as he gets home? Somehow all of that disappears and he’s left in his boxers, which both baffles and amazes you. How he even manages to basically strip that fast, you aren’t even sure. All you know is that you’re slightly fed up with seeing him in boxers for a majority of your day.

“Babe,” You tried explaining to JD without laughing, knowing this was just plain ridiculous. Though, seeing as your husband just walked out of your shared room for the umteenth time in nothing but boxers, you had to bring it up. Again. “You need to put on pants, you can’t just walk out here in boxers! We have a window. Multiple windows! And none of them are tinted.” “Our house.” Was the only grumble you got from your half-asleep husband, who was brushing his teeth all the while trying to make coffee. He wasn’t actually exactly brushing his teeth, as the toothbrush hung from his mouth, likely forgotten as JD began to warm the cafetera on the stop top. It was also hard to keep a straight face when JD was wearing his red heart boxers, “Ay dios mio, John Dory! Put on your damn pants, no one wants to see your nearly naked ass walking around our camper! Por favor.” You pleaded, slips of giggles escaped your lips as you tried to calm your giggles by rubbing your face. But it was truly no use when you glanced back up at your husband. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, and the widest smirk on his face. He looked a little goofy, seeing as his toothbrush was still hanging out of his mouth, but you could tell what his next words were. It was going to be a quip, a flirtatious one of that. It was one he usually used to end this pants conversation, knowing it got you flustered or flabbergasted or just plain over him enough to stop your pursuit. You loved JD so much, but whenever he says: “Aw come on babe, you know you love the sight,” You wanted to strangle him! “I would love the sight even more if my husband would put on his damn pants!” You shot back, not being able to contain your laughter as JD began to playfully wiggle his eyebrows at you. With a shake of your head, you covered your face in your hands and sunk down on the couch melodramatically. God this man is going to be the death of you and he knew it.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[mercy-burning]

(3) the trilogy. || THE DOCTOR.

in which the doctor finds the landlord's favorite missing trilogy of books on a quiet, snowy day... content: strong language, allusions to sex, kissing, fade to black fingering) word count: 3.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist

NOTE: Lots of fun stuff to come with these two soon! They're my favorite <3

———

On the days where Spencer is snowed inside, the perfect remedy should be a couple of books by the fireplace, but the fireplace is quite frankly impossible to keep up with (he never knows how much wood he actually needs and despite how many times he's tried, he swears the matchbook he has is faulty. It never starts.) And, he's read through all of the books he brought with him. Three times each.

The library is an option on a normal day, but the snowfall is so extreme that Stanton had called his house earlier in the morning to inform him that everyone had been requested to hold off on getting sick or injured until the Doctor was safe to leave his home. Sardinia is locked down for the day, he went on to explain, until the crew he'd called in to plow the roads with their heavy and capable machinery could tend to them.

For a town as small as this one, Spencer had just assumed everyone would have figured out how to manage heavy snow without calling in reinforcements. It's human nature, after all, to adapt to your surroundings and make do with what you have if not to develop a solution.

And then he looked outside, and he understood. He couldn't even see white. It was gray—the most snow he'd ever seen, caking every window and blocking him inside.

He spent a solid two hours scraping what he could off the windows and away from the door, until he created a pocket of light from the window above the couch and gave up on the rest. The wind at least had died down, the only noise available to him being his breathing and the creaks of the floor as he walked around. The sun was bright and it was above freezing, so he figured that should help melt what little bit he couldn't manage to scrape away. He showered, fought with the fireplace for another twenty-minutes out of pure boredom, and then gave up on that, too, thankful that the house had electric heating and the fireplace was merely for aesthetic purposes if nothing else.

And now, he sits on the couch, mindlessly thumbing through a book he's already read and wishing he had something else to keep him busy. Boredom only leads to wandering thoughts, and whenever he allows them to, they veer off into the inevitable direction of his landlord. Which only makes him more restless.

The very moment her beautiful, swollen and kissed-out lips enter the periphery of his brain, Spencer pushes himself off the couch and forces his legs to do the wandering instead. He doesn't even care where, he just needs to walk.

She'd been avoiding him since then—until she came to visit to have her stitches removed, and then she avoided him again. Their meeting then had been professional and straightforward, she jokingly handed him a ten-dollar bill for his trouble, and then she went home. He'd debated bringing up the kiss, maybe apologizing, but he also didn't want to risk poking the bear when, in the moment, the bear seemed relatively mollified. It was safe to assume they could silently move past it and remain civil, if not friendly, so that's what he did. He never brought it up, and they simply existed in each others' lives as background characters. No harm, no foul.

It admittedly saddens him a little, that familiar glorious fire in his body slowly dying out day by day without her spark to feed it, but... it's also safe. Given his temporary arrangement, that is exactly what he needs; Zero complications.

Still, it hadn't completely prevented his thoughts from wandering... He can't help it.

But damn it, he tries so hard.

Like now, as his feet pace back and forth along the hallway connecting his living room to the two little bedrooms on the opposite side of the cabin home. His eyes scan the oak paneling on the wall, finding it odd that one board is out farther than the others. It's not a vast difference, and to anyone walking down the hallway, it wouldn't stand out at all. But since his eyes are scanning everything with intent, something that small is impossible to unsee once it's been seen.

Spencer comes closer to inspect the wood, running his fingers along the grain when he feels the board shift a little. He presses harder, then tries with both hands to wiggle it out of place as he inspects the entire board from floor to ceiling.  Eventually, he notices that the nails holding it in place are extremely rusted and barely holding the board upright.

"She has to have a toolbox hidden in this place somewhere..." he ponders, turning to search.

After finding no luck in any of the cabinets, under the kitchen or bathroom sinks, or in the coat closet, he walks back to the guest bedroom and rummages through all the knitted blankets he's collected. For a while it's like he'd find one every time he entered a new area of the cabin that he hadn't explored. A few of them lay draped over the living room furniture now, but to keep the place organized to his liking, he just haphazardly folded and piled them into the guest bedroom closet, not thinking to see if there had been anything else in there.

Sure enough, once the shelves in there are completely clear of fabric, Spencer looks all the way on the highest one and can see a small pile of something shoved in the back. He reaches for it, hoping for something useful but finding only a stack of—

Books!

Not what he'd come in here for, but he isn't about to complain. Especially since he'd really just been so bored that he went in search of a tool box to fix the most negligible problem this house could possibly have.

He flips one over and sees the words, "Agent of Seduction," embossed over a couple in embrace. There are two more, "Agent of Passion," and, "Agent of Retribution."  Their covers are worn and well-loved, pages yellowed and creased, the spines barely readable. As he quickly fans through the pages, expelling the dust from its home between them, he wonders how there are even pages left. It looks (and smells, to be quite frank) like it should be falling apart at the seams.

It doesn't look like what he'd typically reach for, but... It's new. And since he really has nothing else to do...

Spencer sits down on the floor of the closet, nestled between piles of blankets, and opens to the first page of Agent of Seduction.

———

Dear Mom,

Today I might have stumbled onto the scariest story I've ever read. Not because it contains ghosts or horrors so intense that it gives you nightmares, but because of how accurately one major aspect parallels my current situation, as if I don't already feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't entirely believable, especially where the crime-solving aspects are concerned. In fact, it seems like the author had merely watched something on TV and thought, "That doesn't look too hard to make up!" and thus, "Agent of Seduction" was born...

However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't get spooked by just about everything else.

The basic premise is that FBI Agent Samuel Stern must go into hiding to protect his identity from one of the most dangerous criminals the Bureau has ever encountered. In creating this brand new life for himself, he meets a woman named Rachel West, who he falls in love with. She's feisty and quick-witted, and when Samuel's past comes straight towards them like a freight train, she refuses to jump out of the way (much to Samuel's annoyance). Their relationship is built solely on fire—mutual attraction and nothing else—but while they're on the run together throughout the three books, they learn to open up and be vulnerable in a way that only enriches their feelings and the desire to truly love and be loved in return.

By now, you already know about my very own Rachel West, my landlord and the woman I can't stop thinking about... A lot of Samuel's inner monologue about her was extremely close to, if not exactly the same as, my inner monologue about Y/N. At one point near the end of the second book, Rachel gets kidnapped, and the final installment follows Samuel's journey to find her and finally exact his revenge on the criminal who has taken everything from him.

Inevitably, this journey leads Samuel to the grand realization that he's in love with Rachel, and after they finally reunite, the two of them live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, it was rather riveting.

Given the obvious major parallel here, you can also probably understand why it's spooked me. The details behind Samuel's "vacation" aren't necessarily the same as my own, but the mere fact that he works for the FBI and is protecting his identity far away from home... That in and of itself is far too much of a coincidence.

I know it's fiction. I know that real life is different from Samuel's... But I saw something in his story and in his relationship with Rachel that filled that hole of misunderstanding deep in my gut, and while I enjoyed myself for the most part, I also, unfortunately, have come to realize that I can never let myself pursue the fire and fall in love with Y/N.

I won't let her be tainted by my real life. Because if evil does, somehow, penetrate the snowy, magical borders of Sardinia and dig its claws into the purity within, there's no telling what I would do.

I can't let it happen.

———

Y/N loves snow days. Surprisingly, Sardinia doesn't see a whole lot of them— not like this anyway. It's rare that the entire town is on standby, but on the occasion that it is, she locks herself away on the back porch and watches the snow fall through the glass. It's cold, but she doesn't mind. She prefers it— hasn't known anything else, nor has she ever longed to.

The sun has started to set, and with the promise of oven-ready lasagna in just a couple of minutes, there isn't anything that could possibly dampen her perfect Sunday.

She only wishes she could figure out where she left her favorite trilogy. On snow days like these, especially back when she was in Junior High (the act of hiding them from her grandmother making the lure of the story even better, of course), reading Agent of Seduction was her favorite pastime. She'd read the entire trilogy back-to-back at least twenty times by this point, so she probably could have had it memorized. In fact, there are scenes that she has memorized, though nothing ever compares to reading them word for word.

At one point a few years ago, she'd accused her grandmother of stealing and selling them, though the woman denied it with a howling laugh. "I never gave a shit about what you read. Hell, if only you knew some of the books I hid from my mother when I was a teenager..."

At the thought of her grandmother, Y/N sighs, wishing she'd had the courage to ask her about them. The memory of cringing and quickly changing the subject is standard and funny, sure, but she hadn't known there wouldn't be much time left to even think about asking those questions.

Now, she doesn't have her grandmother or her favorite trilogy, and all she's left with is an emptiness that she hopes soon to fill with noodles and cheese.

Instead of the oven chime, three loud knocks sound at the front door, jolting her out of her reverie, and Y/N sighs again.

So much for a perfect Sunday...

Who the hell could possibly be knocking on her door today? The whole town is on lockdown... Only an idiot would be brave enough to—

"Doctor?"

Spencer's figure, sure enough, stands before her in a backdrop of golden, glittering white. His coat is caked in snow and he seems to be drowning in layers and layers of scarves, a plastic bag hanging from his hand as he manages a stiff smile; He's freezing.

"What the hell are you doing here? Don't you know the entire town is o—"

"On lockdown, yes. I know. But I brought you something."

Her instincts are telling her to usher him inside, but there's a fear that freezes her instead. Once she lets him inside on a snow day, there's no telling how long he'll stay. And those are consequences she would rather not discover today.

"Oh?" is all she can manage.

Spencer holds the bag out and she takes it. "I found these in your—er, my closet. I don't know if they belonged to you or not, but I figured it was a safe bet since it was your house... Anyway, I just... I thought I'd return them."

Opening the bag, hearing him explain, and seeing the familiar tattered cover of her favorite book all at once is like a fever dream. She almost can't believe it. In a whirlwind of emotions, she grabs the doctor by the jacket sleeve and tugs him inside without a sound, and he stumbles through the door with a start.

"What's wrong?"

"You're a fucking wizard."

"Excuse me?"

Her shaking hands gently retrieve the paperbacks from the plastic as he shuts the door behind him. She doesn't even care that he's technically been invited inside now.

Unbeknownst to her, as she fans through the pages just as he had when he found them, the sight brings a gentle smile to his lips.

"I was just thinking about these books a few minutes ago... I used to read them every snow day, over and over again to keep my mind occupied..." Then she laughs, shaking her head. "I thought I'd lost them for good. They were in your closet?"

"Mhm. Guest bedroom, all the way on the top shelf, in the back. I was looking for some blankets, a—"

"You didn't read them, did you?"

Her head snaps up and Spencer blinks at her for a moment before carefully answering, "No."

Something about it feels off to her. They stare at each other now, and suddenly she realizes the gravity of the situation, which is that he stands in her house, claiming not to have read her favorite books (which are sexually explicit in nature), even though his face clearly claims otherwise. He had brought them to her house during a weather lockdown of all days, right after she'd just been thinking about them, and she felt so grateful in the moment that the thought of kissing him on the mouth seemed like the perfect gesture of gratitude.

Obviously, there is only one outcome.

He needs to leave, now, before she does something stupid.

"You probably wouldn't like them anyway."

"Oh?"

The beguiled look on his face practically begs for elaboration, but she's not currently in the business of giving him one.

"Thank you for bringing them to me," she says, hoping to suggest finality and get him out the door. "I haven't had an entire night with no obligations to sit down and read these books in years. I'm way overdue."

He only stares back at her, his gaze unwavering in intensity. If he's disappointed at all, he doesn't show it in the least. She's afraid he might try to banter or take off his jacket, but in the end, the doctor only gives her a gentle nod.

"You're welcome."

A flood of different sensations come racing through her body then, as Spencer turns to leave; Relief that he's relenting, excitement to finally have and hold her favorite story again, hot tension under the residual potency of his staring, and the nagging feeling that whatever wildfire the two of them seem to have made together isn't actually anywhere close to being extinguished.

The door opens, swallowing the doctor in a halo of light, and just before he closes it behind him, he calls over his shoulder, "Enjoy yourself, my dear."

The paperbacks suddenly feel heavy in her hands. She almost drops them to the ground, cursing his name.

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

"Go away!"

Samuel's heart nearly shattered at the crack in her voice. He couldn't bear to witness his dear Rachel and her burning flame slowly dwindle under the suffocation of his true identity. His real life, once again, had attempted to take away everything he held dear to him, and he would be damned if he let it succeed this time.

"Rachel, please! You have to have to understand, I hated having to lie to you!"

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" she screeched, whipping around and snarling in his face. Alas, her fire remained, though it was unmistakably fueled by scorching pure rage and not the low-simmering wicked desire he's come to crave and adore. The pain in his heart worsened as she jabbed his chest, a fragile reminder of the new life she's breathed into him and the steady ache to protect it at all costs. "You're just like every other man I've ever met, except you might actually be worse! You put me in danger, and then spared me the details! And for what, so you could play the savior and 'protect' me? Huh?"

"You don't understand..."

"Then make me understand!"

The truth was that he couldn't let her go. No matter how annoyingly stubborn she proved herself to be, Samuel could not resist the warmth that settled in his bones when she touched him. He could not sit back and tell himself that she meant nothing to him when every time she quirked her eyebrow, he felt the overwhelming need to know everything she's ever felt. He wanted to know her. He wanted to experience her, in every single facet.

But he also didn't want his life to destroy her.

"It is killing me... Every day it kills me to know that the man who took everything from me and ruined my life is out there, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it... It kills me to be away from home, and it kills me to have to pretend like I'm not filled with unbridled rage every time I wake up... It kills me to know that I've let myself get attached to someone else, because it just means that's one more thing for him to destroy. But... God, Rachel, you've fucking set this fire in me that I can't put out. You're so sharp and strong and funny and beautiful, and you're so fucking stubborn... You're breaking down every defense I have, piece by piece, and for both of our safety, I should just let it go... But I can't..."

Her hardened stare hadn't eased, but her hands started a slow, gentle ascent over the planes of his stomach, up and up until they rested on his chest.

Samuel pressed one of her hands firmly to his heart. "Do you feel that, Rachel?"

"Your heartbeat?" she asked sarcastically through her teeth, her eyebrow quickly flinching upward.

"Yes. What you're feeling there is your work, and your work alone."

Unsurprisingly, Rachel snorted. Still, her fingers flexed over the fabric of his shirt and pulled him closer. "It's not healthy to put all that credit onto someone, you know. It could do irreparable damage."

It was true, but she was being snarky, as always. Which meant she must not have hated him as much as she was letting on.

Samuel took that as a good sign, deciding to allow himself to be cocky. He stared deep into her eyes and brought a hand to her throat, gently grazing it with the back of his knuckle. "So? Tell me I haven't already ruined you beyond repair..."

Rachel hummed and leaned into him, never one to turn down a challenge. "Says the man who just bared his soul out to me with tears in his eyes five seconds ago... Sounds like I'm the one who's ruined you."

Their breaths were so close together now, noses barely touching, Samuel didn't have time to process the look in her eyes before he said, "And now you understand," relenting and kissing her deeply.

She clutched his shirt so hard, he thought she might literally tear it to shreds in front of him as her devilish mouth battled him with a strength of its own. Rachel was fighting, even now, desperate to hold onto that power and control. And that was all fine and good, usually, but Samuel felt it in his bones that this time it was different.

Things between them now were different, and they always would be.

Whether he could put a name to that difference he didn't know, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to really truly understand how important she was to him, without the fight.

She had complete control over him, but she didn't need to prove it.

Samuel could do that on his own.

He backed her into the wall and brought her hands to her sides, inching languid, wet kisses down her jawline. Never in their time together had he been so gentle in control, so slow... Fire left no time for meticulous passion, only quick, sharp lust.

"What are we doing?" she breathed, rolling her body into him. "What is this?"

"I meant it, Rachel," Samuel vowed into her neck, his hand deftly undoing the button of her pants. "You're changing me... Giving me something to live for again..."

A soft gasp escaped her as he slid his hand smoothly down the front of her pants, and he reveled in the sound. The moment his fingers breached her entrance, she melted into him, crying out in a whimper.

"That's right," he sighed into her neck. "Enjoy yourself, my dear..."

[whaledenwtf]

I'm such a sucker for Gale, and I want some fluff about him, maybe like what happened after or during the wedding, what would it look like? Like what would our man do

I'm such a sucker for Gale too, he's just baby. I'm not too familiar with Act 3 and the new epilogues they added but I'll do my baby justice. I'll be writing this with a female reader, so if you'd like GN! Reader I can try rewriting it.

As always, I try to keep Gale in character as much as possible. If you enjoy this fic, consider sharing it! I have requests open, which you can send here: Link I have a Masterlist for Baldur's Gate 3 works I've written, which also has a list of what I will and won't write here: Link

Gale x AFAB!Reader - Wedding Bells

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, Fluff, Mentions of Anxiety, Self-Deprecation (Poor Gale), Mentions of Mystra (Mystra when I catch you Mystra), Minor Angst if you squint.

WORD COUNT: 869

Gods he was so nervous. He kept pacing back and forth, subconsciously playing with his hands.

"Are you having regrets Mr. Dekarios?" He is snapped out of his reverie by Tara, who's watching him from a distance.

"Regrets? I could never regret my relationship with (Y/N), Tara. I am just... nervous. I don't want her to change her mind, is all." He tells her honestly. Tara struts closer to him, tail swaying behind her.

"I believe you are overthinking, Mr. Dekarios. After all, don't you think she would have changed her mind before the wedding day?" He ponders that for a moment.

"I suppose you may be right, Tara. However, I've come to realize there is no such luck for a fool like me. She may have changed her mind and is running out now-" To emphasize his point, he looks out the window to see if there is a runaway bride. He exhales in relief when he doesn't see you running off. Tara scoffs.

"Are you sure you won't be the one who runs out? Show some self-respect Mr. Dekarios. You are incredibly talented and a good friend. She loves you, in case you had forgotten." Tara sits, her wings twitching.

He looks away from the window, only seeing the wedding party seated in the rows and rows of seats, alongside your companions who were interacting with one another. The door opens, and Gale's mother walks in.

"Oh thank Mystra! My little boy is getting married- I was starting to get worried." Morena wails out, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Gale rolls his eyes.

"Have you so little faith in me, mother?" She huffs, squinting at him.

"You were a recluse, Gale. A mother tends to worry when her son is aging without another by their side. I just want you happy." She tells him. He looks down, feeling guilty for worrying his mother.

"I am sorry-" Morena shakes her head.

"All is in the past now-" She claps her hands. She walks closer, giving him a once over, brushing non-existent dust off his shoulders. "I am very proud of you." She tells him quietly. He grips her in a tight hug, like a child would when they were scared. She caresses his back comfortingly, and he is filled with a sense of calmness. All his previous fears and anxieties dissipate. The door opens again. Morena lets go of Gale, giving him some space.

"Just coming in to check in. Am I disturbing something?" Gale hears your voice. Before he can take a glimpse at you, he turns around, eyes screwed shut.

"It is bad luck to see the bride before the aisle!" He shouts out. All the women giggle at him. You begin walking forward, smiling at Morena and Tara.

"We will leave you two alone. Come, Tara." They leave, closing the door behind them.

"Turn around, sweetheart. Who needs luck or gods, when we have each other?" You tell him, standing behind him. He sighs, turning around, eyes still screwed shut. You chuckle, taking his face in your hand.

"Open your eyes, Gale." He opens one eye, and his jaw drops. You were stunning; probably the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes upon.

"Oh-" He opens both eyes, to look you up and down, multiple times.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, eyes watering. It never felt so real until this moment, seeing you devote yourself to him. You wipe the single tear that leaves his misty eyes. He blinks multiple times, willing himself not to cry.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You tease him, grinning.

"I wanted to check on you, see if you had changed your mind?" He looks into your eyes, seeing your honesty.

"Why would I change my mind?" You shrug.

"We don't need fancy ceremonies or gold rings to show our love to one another. All I need is you by my side." He takes your hand, kissing it.

"I can never regret anything I do if it involves you, my love." You giggle at his words.

"How are you feeling?" You ask him sweetly. He bites his lip.

"I am- was very nervous. For a moment I thought you would want to cancel the wedding." You shake your head.

"I love you, Gale. I'm not going anywhere. The tadpole couldn't keep us apart; nor the Netherese Orb; and definitely not some goddess." You end the sentence bitterly. He chuckles, putting his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

"We can do this, together." He says out loud.

"Together." You whisper, leaning into his neck and kissing him there.

BONUS: You close the door behind you, leaving Gale to his thoughts. You turn to see Astarion and Wyll waiting for you. You jump, holding a hand to your heart as they scared you.

"Gods! Don't sneak up on me like that." They both chuckle.

"Did he cry?" Astarion asks excitedly. You chuckle, nodding.

"HA! Pay up Ravengard." Wyll sighs, handing over a pouch of gold to Astarion.

"I knew that sap would cry. Shouldn't have bet against me." Wyll rolls his eye.

"Alright Astarion." Wyll tells him. You smile at the two, before pulling them away from the door.

[amiserableseriesofevents]

Wherever you find love (it feels like Christmas)

24 Clegan Christmas drabbles for 24 days!

Prompts from here (but randomized)

[Read on AO3]

Day 01: Homecooked meals

Post-war AU, wc 989

It’s been a hell of a day — no, a hell of a week. No, make it a month. A lifetime, even.

John has been working non stop for weeks traveling all around the States like a mad dreidel, north, south, east, west, up and down and back and forth; everyone needs him everywhere like he’s the only reliable man left in the Army, which he knows he’s not because there’s at least one more: Gale, who of course is getting through the same living hell as he is.

It’s like their superior officers have made it their goal to keep them separated as much as possible because whenever John has two days to spend at home, of course it’s Gale who’s quickly packing a duffle bag and leaving their home on these orders or those with barely a kiss on the lips of his frustrated partner. They got to spend at least Thanksgiving together but they were visiting John’s sister who just had a baby and between the crowd of long lost relatives to entertain and the exhaustion of the past few weeks they both crashed down into bed with little more than a few tired kisses and some snuggles.

Now almost half of December has passed and their house is still empty not only of people but also of the joy of Christmas with no lights, no tree with colorful baubles, no smell of cookies wafting through the warm rooms, no cozy nights in front of the lit fireplace just the two of them, reading and listening to John’s Christmas records on their player. Everything’s cold, grey, and lifeless without the warmth of Gale’s love.

John’s driving home tonight, mood sour as much as the air inside of his car for all the cigarettes he’s been smoking nonstop to have an outlet for his fraying nerves — he’s driving to an empty fridge in an empty home, even an empty liquor cabinet because he’s been trying to drink as less as possible and he didn’t stop to buy any on the road, nothing to be happy about. Gale is in Idaho, or maybe Illinois, he forgot. He’ll be home in two days, just in time for John to leave again for a weeklong trip to Wyoming.

So when he finally parks the car outside of their house and sees through the window that the lights in their kitchen are on, John’s mind immediately goes into fight mode: someone saw an empty house, they probably kept an eye on it for the past few days when both him and Gale were away, and then decided to break in tonight of all nights. 

“Joke’s on them,” John sighs to himself walking to the door with a hand on his gun; he can’t wait to scare the living shit out of those punks who decided to make his day a little worse still. He’s so focused on that he doesn’t even notice the front door is unlocked, there’s no signs of breaking in.

“Who’s there?” He shouts coming in. “Come out with your hands clearly visible. I am a Major of the US Army and believe me, you don’t want to be on my bad side!”

There’s rummaging coming from the kitchen and John’s mind barely has the time to process the smell of warm, hearty food coming from there before a figure comes into view leaning against the doorway. “On your bad side, Major? Never,” says a familiar voice with a drawn-out southern drawl and a hint of amused affection.

John’s heart swells up three sizes. “Buck!” He exclaims, all exhaustion and anger leaving him in an instant, and walks up to the other man to hug him. Gale’s wearing one of John’s old t-shirts like he often does when he’s at home, his hair tousled and soft like he’s washed all the pomade out of them, and he smells of peppermint and gravy, of home. He relaxes in John’s hold, a pleased hum leaving his lips in a chuckle when the other man squeezes him tight against his chest. 

“Weren’t you supposed to come home in two days?” John asks him, voice muffled from where his face is buried in the curve of Gale’s neck.

Gale brushes a kiss on his temple. “Finished earlier, took the first train home. I knew you were getting here late tonight so I went and made you dinner; it didn’t occur me you’d think it was burglars, I just wanted it to be a surprise,” he adds, a bit sheepishly.

John kisses him noisily on the lips. “The best surprise in the world. What did you prepare?” He asks, mouth already watering as he tries to peek behind Gale’s shoulders into the kitchen where pots and pans are all sitting on the hot stove.

“Mashed potatoes, gravy, and some ham. A meal fit for a king,” Gale jokes disentangling himself from John’s grip to go and check on the potatoes. “No dessert though, sorry. They were out of chocolate pudding.”

“Oh, I’ll take my dessert later tonight,” John answers with an obnoxiously exaggerated wink that wins him an eye-roll from his Buck, a flush on his cheeks John’s always proud to be the cause of. 

He helps Gale set the table and then they sit together to eat, just the two of them for the first time in over a month. “I was thinking, since you have to leave in two days we could do something around the house tomorrow,” Gale suggests putting some mashed potatoes on John’s plate. “Set up the lights, at least. I know you like to have the whole house decorated but I don’t think we’ll have enough time for that.”

John grabs his hand and takes it to his mouth, placing a kiss at the center of his palm with a loving smile. “We can finish decorating on Christmas Eve. After all, Santa already granted my greatest wish tonight.”

[max-the-many]

'body a day #2' day 8: weapons

When I saw them standing infront of me a shiver ran down my spine. I really could do anything with them.

Dunno what hit me, taking those four in. And with that I'm not talking about those military hunks.

It was on a rainy night several weeks ago, when I stood on my back porch, looking out to the night sky when I sensed some motion. I stepped out, barefoot through mudd and weed until I found the source of it, a big black slug that I quickly found 3 more of. At first I was rather repulsed, but as I watched them moving it almost looked like they tried to look at me, lift their front, although I couldn't make out eyes.

I got more and more curious up to the point where I lifted the first one up which easily covered my whole palm. Again, it was calm, 'looking' up to me.

Eventually I took them all in, watched them all night until I dosed away. I was fascinated! And as I woke up, having them snufgle by my side, I almost felt like some kind of attachment.

So the days went bye, they stayed at my place, keeping me company while I never saw them eating.

At some point I had to leave as my job was due, traveling to advertise for a tech-company and as thosw creatures seemed so familiar at that point I decided to take them with me.

Calm as ever on the trip I noticed some change as we arrived at a motel. I didn't know, what it was, but they seemed to get restless, moving around the room, lifting their front part as if they were sniffing. I figured, they were exploring the new surrounding, but somehow I got the feeling that it was more than that.

Eventually I felt bad for shutting them in as they constantly circled back and forth at the door. With a slight fear of them leaving for good I opened the door and just like that they went out.

"Take care" I said quietly as I shut the door, hoping for them to come back. I really don't know what it was as we didn't interact very much. But their company was so calming, their gentle presence, the fact, that they wanted to stay with me in a weired way.

But everythings gotta end, I thought, as I prepared to go to bed.

I couldn't really sleep ä, though, thinking of the time past, the encounter, those strange creatures only remotely resembling slugs, beeing a multiple of those I knew in size on top of that.

And as my thoughts went on I noticed a shadow at the window. A silhuette standing there pretty much motionless. I stood up, getting closer, getting worried as it turned out to be a guy, looking between the curtains without any movement, standing there topless looking pretty well built.

I got nervous as the motel was rather secluded. What did he want! And on top of that, there seemed to be more besides him. Did they want to harm me? Break into my room even? But then, why was he shirtless? He even was glistening from the slight rain he probably walked through.

Nothing happened for long minutes making me more and more nervous.

"What do you want?" I eventually said through the closed door. But nothing. Just some very slight brushing sounds against the door, which I wasn't sure if I really heared them at all.

After more minutes a second guy appeared at the window, looking in, beeing topless and muscular aswell.

I repeated my question, but still nothing happened until I decided to open the door, sliding on the little chain to keep it from fully opening.

"What do you want!? I asked again to a third guy that appeared at the door, clothed like the others, also pretty sporty, looking like some mitlitary guy as I could see him wearing one of those classic army shorts.

But again, he just looked at me quietly, eventually lifting his hand. It almost seemed like some kind of pet behaviour, like a cat, very gently asking to come in. And suddenly it hit me, the crazy thought that those guys, those looks, somehow reminded me of... the creatures! There even seemed to be four guys in total as far as I could tell.

It didn't take long from that point that I just couldn't resist the urge of finding that out. As creepy as it was to have those half naked, muscular guys luring infront of my motel room at night in the middle of nowhere I just had to let them in.

So I clised the door to release the chain and ss I opened it again those guys came in quietly, looking at me as they looked before with me having next to no doubt, that in some unexplainable way those guys looked at me like those creatures did, their presence feeling just like those slugish pals I grew to feel so familiar with.

"Are you..." I started, unable to find a word to discribe my sluggish friends "...them"

And with that one of them opened his mouth, letting out a raspy voice as if he answered, leaving me with the strong feeling of a "yes"...

[izgnanik-a]

Suffer Does The Wolf (Crawling To Thee) iv

Summary: Simon knew the exact moment when he knew he had to have you for himself. It was only a matter of time before his military skills allowed himself into your home, into your life. And once he stuck — he wasn’t going to let you back out of his webs.

Tags: non-con, stalker!Ghost, fem reader, mature content

MINORS DNI

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Simon was so impatient to go out with you, he didn't even go home. He waited outside of the restaurant until his phone gave a chirp with your messages that you were heading out of work then.

Of course he knew. He'd done nothing for the past few hours but watch you through the front window pace back and forth behind the counter, only vanishing for your break, and returning right back.

He was vibrating with energy when he pulled his phone to reply. " ok. outside. " He looked down at himself in the reflection of the car in front of him. He had nothing to fix.

He was wearing his hoodie and a jacket over it, jeans, and his cloth mask instead of his balaclava.

He had kept his balaclavas tucked away since coming back from duty, strictly kept to his half masks instead. Though the straps around his ears were a constant reminder that he was concealing his face from you, it didn't appear to bother you.

He could be ugly for all you knew. And you still wanted to go out and have a drink with him.

All his thoughts went away when he saw you waving your coworkers goodbye and heading for the door. His heart trembling in his chest as you caught his eyes and immediately smiled at him.

You approached with a sigh. "You been waiting on me this whole time?" You asked.

Simon hesitated to speak.

You nudged him, "I'm only joking. That'd be stupid." You laughed.

He tried his best to keep his nervousness under control. He was a lieutenant for fuck's sake. And you managed to make the grown man tremble.

"Did you eat yet?" You asked.

"No."

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to miss out on the food at this place. It's right around the corner. You don't mind the walk, do you?" You asked.

Simon shook his head.

"Let's go then." You tipped your head in it's direction, and began moving side by side down the road.

Simon kept to your side, closest to the road, scanning the street as if there would be a threat that could take you out.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"Does that bother you?"

"Not really. Just makes me wonder what goes on in your head sometimes." You smiled up at him.

He stared ahead. "Plenty."

"Do indulge."

Here you were, this sunshine-y thing, and all he could think of doing was smothering you up against the nearest wall until all you could make out were desperate sobs of pleasure. He tried to divert his attention to something less vicious.

"How was your day at work?" He asked.

You blew a heavy breath between your lips. "Where do I even start? We started off the day with one register working. Not only did that make it difficult to take orders between drive thru and the counter, it slowed us down a lot."

"Does it happen often?"

"Only recently. But they plan on sending someone tomorrow morning to fix it. Or hopefully fix it."

Simon hummed.

"Also, thank you for saying something to the customer earlier."

"He was being a prick."

"I wish I could say those things to them without worrying about losing my job." You scoffed. "It happens a lot more than you think."

That comment made his blood boil. How could anyone be so ignorant and vile to you? You were sweet and beautiful and so soft. He wanted to find that prissy bastard and ring his neck now, even if he was just one customer among the many bad ones. It'd be a start.

"What do you do for work?" You asked him.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Private contractor."

"Really? What kind of work does a private contractor do?" You teased.

"Private things."

You hummed. "I see. I guess I won't pry then."

Simon gazed down at you and your sultry glance, and he was fighting his inner demons hard to keep from wrapping an arm around you and just taking you home.

"This is the place right here." You gestured to the flashing lights in the window reading ' open ' and ' bar '.

Simon was quick to grab the door and open it for you before you could touch it.

You tipped your head. "Why thank you." You smirked as you stepped in and he followed closely.

He lingered close. Your coat under your arm brushed against his belly, and he could smell the faint hints of coffee beans lingering in your uniform. It was masked with the smell of sweets; chocolates, coconut, and caramel. He wanted to press his nose into the back of your neck.

"Let's get a seat at the bar." You looked over your shoulder at him, and he nodded dumbly.

He followed willingly, sat down in a bar stool that was too small for him to be comfortable on. But his arm brushed up against yours, and every time you'd look at him, the contact only became warmer.

"I highly recommend the beers they have on draft."

"You come to this place often?" He asked.

"I used to. But I don't really have time anymore to enjoy things outside of work, you know?"

He gazed into the side of your face longingly. He did know how hard it was to separate himself from his work, finding it harder to be Simon Riley and Ghost separately. He felt like he was always the blood thirsty animal, just without a battlefield.

"I'm rambling."

"I don't care."

"But it's boring."

"I don't think so."

You stared at him, and he watched your eyes flicker down at his half mask. "Do you always wear that? I'm sure that's a question you get often."

"Always."

"To the mask or the question?"

"Both."

You hummed, smiling at the menu before speaking again. "I guess having a drink is out of the question then."

And he felt compelled to rip off the mask for you. Take off his hoodie. Just lay absolutely beneath your feet, whatever you wanted him to do.

"Does it have to do with your private contracting job?" You questioned.

"Why do you want to see my face so badly?"

You shrugged. "Just curious."

He scoffed.

"I like the mask." You said, looking to the bartender as they approached. "Makes you look scary, so no weirdos can approach me."

"It doesn't scare you?"

You met his eyes with a smirk. "You'd have to do a whole lot more than wear a mask to scare me, Simon."

You ate and drank more than he had expected you to. You were comfortable enough to keep the contact between your arms touching his. You were too comfortable.

He paid the tab and you were walking, practically stumbling, out of the restaurant door with Simon in tow.

"I feel amazing." You hummed, looking over towards Simon. The motion made you sway.

He grabbed your arm before you could tumble backwards. "You're drunk."

"No, you're drunk." You laughed, leaning into his side with a hand on his sternum. "You're so handsome and nice."

"You haven't even seen my face."

"I don't have to. It's in your eyes." You gazed up at him. "They're so pretty."

Simon's heart thumped under your palm. He was burning up. Too overwhelmed with your body on his, too horny to think anything but to pick you up right now. It wasn't right, but it's all he could think to do.

"You should call a cab to head home." He insisted, using his only grasp of sanity to get you home safe. If he brought you home, he'd be tempted to walk you the whole way in and never leave.

"I want to stay with you a little longer." Your hand on his sternum slid down to his belly, wrapping around his side, and around his back. Your entire body pressed to his. "You're so nice to me."

And to top it off, you pressed your cheek onto his collar and shut your eyes.

Simon shut his eyes tightly, throwing his head up to the night sky in agony. You were a gift in disguise, laid up perfectly in his arms. He brought his shaking hand to the back of your neck, gently stroking your hair down until he cupped the back of your head. His fingers tangled in the softness of your hair, and he could feel you sink further into him.

He pressed his cheek into the side of your face, as gently as he could — he inhaled through the fabric of his mask just to take in the smell of your hair.

And god did it make him hard.

“I’m gonna fall asleep.” You hummed into his chest before lifting your head, breaking the spell he was under. “I need to go home.” You pouted.

He removed his hand from your hair and let go of your arm. “Are you going to make it home alright?”

You smiled, soft warmth radiating from you again. “Worried someone will come and snatch me up?”

Yes, actually. He was. He’d kill someone with his bare hands if they thought they could take what was his.

You reached out to grasp his forearm before brushing your lips to his clothed cheek. You kissed the fabric softly before returning to the soles of your feet again. “I really enjoyed tonight. I like you.”

Simon tracked your movement with his eyes as you stepped back. “I can take you home. If you want me to.” He stepped close to you again, until his chest touched yours.

You pressed your palm to his belly, keeping a sliver of space between your bodies. “Nice try.” You patted his belly before stepping back. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

Simon watched you step away from him. He grit his teeth as he watched you go, and stuffed his hands in his jean pockets. He did his best to squeeze his cock in his pants, but nothing would deflate him. Not until he could wrap his hand around himself, thinking of how delicious and delicate you were tonight.

How you wrapped your arm around his waist, pressing your face into his chest, and sunk into his touch. He wanted to feel your hair between his fingers again, feel your warmth and solid form against his body, under him, over him.

He followed you in shadow until a car came to pick you up and bring you home. But he’d be sure to make it habit to take you wherever you wanted from then on.

Do not copy my works and post elsewhere.

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

hi babyy could you write julien x reader based on once more to see you by mitski?

jj chats: okay so i didn't know this song until now and now i am completely in love with it. anon: are you okay?? this song is so good but so heartbreaking!! also this is major angst and in my opinion very sad.

warnings: RPF, use of y/n, secret relationship, reader feels the relationship cannot continue for some reason (its not specified so you can think of whatever you want, not out yet, don't want the public to know), pet names used (baby, sweetheart), reader and julien cry, sad ending.

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

“In the rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun on your neck, And felt the taste of you bubble up inside me”

Months of hidden truths, of abhorrence towards those who permitted you two from being together. Months of hiding behind tinted windows and keeping traces of your love away from anyone. Julien and you were getting so damn tired. You started to fight about it, about the hiding. You were two grown people, why couldn’t you just be happy together? Sitting in the driver's seat, Julien was facing a lake. One of your many secluded spots, this one in particular held precious moments. Julien glanced at the rearview mirror, watching as you paced back and forth. The sky cast a golden hue onto your face, making your eyes look as if they were glowing.

As Julien watched your movements she felt warmer and lighter. She knew she couldn’t live without you. She shook her head, she couldn’t stand seeing you so upset. She opened the car door and stepped out, advancing towards you.

“But with everybody watching us, our every move”

“Julien, please. Get back in the car,” you pleaded. Hands reaching towards your head, running quick fingers through your hair, and then holding onto your neck in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“No,” Julien retorted. “I won’t get back in the car (Y/N).”

“But-”

“But nothing! I am not going to let you leave me!” Julien boomed. The early evening air was chilly, which added to both of your stress.

“We do have reputations, we keep it secret, won't let them have it”

Your eyes started to tear up as you stared at your lover, “Julien we can’t,” you stammered. “What would people say?”

Julien took another step towards you, her eyes full of worry. She thought of anything that could ease you. “I know that it is hard, keeping us a secret. But if the only other alternative is losing you then it doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be with you any way you want.”

Her words caused your heart to ache, “I want to be with you. I just don’t want them to know yet, I'm not ready.” Your teary eyes overflooded and your cheeks were now red, you choked out “I want to keep what happens between us. That won’t ever work. They’ll find out somehow, they always do.” 

“So come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone, with me alone”

Julien hesitated, worried if she took a step close that you might run and never come back. “Not with us. I promise baby, I will protect you.” 

You shook your head, turning away from her. Your arms snaking up your torso, holding yourself together like tape. 

“Just come back to me, I’ll make everything okay.” Julien gulped.

“If you would let me give you pinky promise kisses, then I wouldn't have to scream your name, atop of every roof in the city of my heart”

Julien, with a newfound confidence, walked right up to you and held you close to her body. “My heart yearns for you, baby I need you. I would do anything for you.”

“Julien we can’t-”

“Let me promise you this sweetheart, that we’ll be okay, alright?” Julien lets go to spin you around, making you face her straight on, her hand gently wrapped around your wrists, holding you still. “I love you so much. My heart beats a language only you can understand, it's locked by a key only you possess. I love you so much it hurts baby.” Julien pauses, searching your eyes for something that she doesn’t find. “You own my heart (Y/N), let me prove that to you. Please, baby.” Julien, how always to stoic one between the two of you, was now a mess of tears. Her own eyes reddened and tears fell from her chocolate brown irises. 

You gain enough momentum to leave Julien’s grasp. As much as you want to stay, some malevolent force pulls you from her arms. “I’m so sorry. I can’t. I can’t do this anymore Julien. I can’t.” 

“Please baby, please don’t,” Julien whimpers, trying to reach for you. 

You pull away from her fast, your legs moving you to your car at record speed. As you get further away you start to hear the dreadful noise of Julien’s sobs. 

“If I could see you, once more to see you”

Julien felt as if a bomb had gone off in her chest, decimating her heart, and shredding her lungs. The air doesn’t feel right around her, the sky too cheery. 

You weren’t doing much better, once in your car you broke down. You punched the steering wheel, tears streaming down your face in a constant flow.

The end of a prologue that should have been the epilogue. The beginning of something that should have lasted to the end. Now it was just a precursor to the future sequences of events that both of you dreaded more than your worst fears.

Neither of you wanted to lose each other, yet that is what you both got.