#and I say freaks in the most loving way possible 🥰

[greenesmyfavcolor]

Guys, stand up so you can sit back down because I just found something crazy.

I was looking up Audrey II on Google and the first thing that pops up is a AI overview that states that it came from the planet Kepler-186f? Is this supposed to be common knowledge because I had no idea about this until just this second??

The funny thing is, is that it’s an actual real planet and not something completely made up.

So here’s where Audrey II and all the other little Audrey II’s are from I guess.

But here’s the thing, the planet wasn’t even discovered until 2014 and of course little shop came out way before that. So where did this information even come from cause it certainly didn’t come from the show or heck, even the original 60’s film.

The whole thing came from an AI overview which is of course suspicious but it had to of gotten that statement from somewhere, it couldn’t have just made that up on its own.

So I clicked on the link at the bottom of the overview to find the reference it used and it took me to this website called “Carnivorous Plant Resource” where is described the origins of the Audrey II and its biology and everything. Basically talking about it like it’s a real plant (although you never know)

Like seriously, you can’t make this stuff up.

Still doesn’t explain where the heck they got Kepler-186f from but ok.

So yeah, if you’re to get anything out of this, it’s that the Audrey II species is from Kepler-186f in the Plantae kingdom of the Milky Way galaxy thank you and goodnight.

[andvys]

Wicked Game E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! angst, slightly mean!Eddie, enemies to lovers, smut, Eddie calls reader names, choking, Eddie spits in reader's mouth, masturbation, unprotected sex, jealous Eddie, jealous reader, Eddie calling himself freak, hurt/comfort, Eddie calls reader ‘bee’, it’s a nickname he gave her

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Your best friend Steve and his new friend bring someone into your life that you just can't stand, Eddie Munson. He teases you, he says mean things to you and as foolish as you are, you still desire him- just like he desires you.

Word count: 12.5k+

Note: @take-everything-you-can , thank you for this amazing request. I hope you're gonna like this one, I loved writing it!

stranger things masterlist

Tagging some people who might be interested 🥰 @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69

-

You and your best friend come as a package deal, wherever one goes, the other follows. There is not a single day you spend without each other, you do lunch breaks together, he comes over to hang out even when you’re busy studying or doing homework, you help him get ready for dates and he helps you pick out outfits for parties, when he’s sick, you take care of him and vice versa. You adore him. You are pretty sure that you will move in together if neither of you find a partner till then. 

You grew up together and always stuck to each other’s side. 

When your best friend found a second best friend, you were scared that you would lose him but luckily, that wasn’t the case, he didn’t leave, he didn’t abandon you like others would do after making new friends. You would always be his number one and he made that very clear and she became your best friend as well. Robin is amazing, you adore her just as much as you adore Steve. She is funny and sweet and you love spending time with her but you can’t stand her ‘forever’ best friend, Eddie Munson. 

That man had it out for you ever since he laid eyes on you, you don’t know what it is about you that makes him so mad but he never fails to make you feel irritated and angry. Eddie is not malicious in any way, he is no bully. He just makes his dislike for you very known. He teases you, makes sly and snarky comments, glares at you before you even turn to look at him. 

That was before your best friend became his best friend. 

Now it’s so much worse because not only do you have to tolerate him at school, you also have to tolerate him in your free time. 

While Robin is always sweet and supportive of you. 

Eddie is grumpy, mean and annoyed with you. 

You don’t know where it had all started, you can’t even remember if you ever even talked to him before he chose to hate you, all you remember is the cold shoulder he only ever gave you. 

You do wonder why he dislikes you so much, is it because you come from the popular crowd? Maybe. But Steve used to be the most popular guy in school and Eddie still gets along with him and likes him. Is it because you have wealthy parents? Because you live in a big house, wear fancy clothes and have a nice car? Possible. But Steve has it all too and he never gets shit from Eddie. Or are you just an unlikable person to him? Now, that would make you sad because that would mean that he would just hate you for the person you are, he would hate you for your personality, for being you. 

But then things take a small turn after a party at Steve’s place. You see a little deeper into his mind. 

“What’s with the scowl on your face, bee?” Eddie asks as he gets so close to your face that you can smell the disgusting beer and cigarettes. 

“Ew, get off,” you scowl as you push him away, “and stop calling me that, nerd.” 

Eddie hasn’t strayed away from that nickname ever since you had been stung by one when you were all out at the lake, you kept swatting away the bee that continuously made it’s way back to you, you called it annoying and hissed in pain when it had stung you. Eddie laughed at your demise, ‘you’re a bee too, annoying and ready to attack’.

He smirks, flicking your hair, he moves back and plops down on the bench beside you, he follows your gaze, he can’t even help but scoff when he sees what you’re looking at. 

Steve is talking to the girl that stood him up a week ago, calling off the date because of her upset stomach but then you and Robin ran into her at the store, she was with a different guy, he hugged her from behind and kissed her neck while she was picking out snacks, not looking sick at all. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “jealous huh?” 

You scrunch your face up, tearing your eyes away from Steve, you turn to look at Eddie, “why would I be jealous?” 

He shrugs, leaning back, he blows smoke into your face and smirks when you begin to cough. 

“Because you’re in love with Steve.” 

A loud laugh falls from your lips, earning a few looks from the other partygoers who spend the night out in the garden rather than the crowded house. 

“I’m not in love with Steve,” you snort, shaking your head as your eyes flicker with amusement. 

It’s not the first time that someone assumed that you are in love with him or that he is in love with you. You get mistaken for a couple, all the time, sometimes you play along just for the fun of it but you and Steve are not into each other, at all. It has always been purely platonic between you two, there’s no feelings on his part and neither on yours. You are best friends, platonic soulmates. 

“Yes, you are,” Eddie says. 

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “what makes you say that?” 

“Because you’re super close and you are fiercely protective of him, like in a way where you can just tell that you’re in love with him.”

“That’s such nonsense,” you scoff, “I’m protective, yes.” 

He nods, shrugging. 

“Because he is my best friend! One who got hurt by a girl he used to love, he got his heart broken, twice! I don’t want it to happen again, he deserves better.” 

Eddie thinks about your words, searching for something in your eyes, for a moment, you think that he believes you but then he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, you’re still in love with him.” 

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest, you lean back, “okay well, then you’re in love with Robin.” 

Eddie laughs loudly, throwing his head back. You glare at him, growing irritated by his presence. 

“You’re funny, bee.” 

“Why am I funny? I mean, you’re just as close as Steve and I are,” you shrug. 

His brown eyes twinkle with amusement, he leans in closer. You ignore the way his cologne makes your head spin or the way his eyes flicker down to your lips or the way he– ‘Stop!’ you tell yourself. 

“Robin doesn’t swing that way, remember?” 

A breathy laugh leaves your lips and you smirk at him, “yeah but you do, right?” You ask, raising your eyebrows, “just because she isn’t into you or into men in general, doesn’t mean that you can’t have feelings for her. Unrequited love is a thing, you know that right?” 

His eyes darken, smirk falling from his lips, his expression hardens, he eyes your face slowly, nodding after a moment of silence, “yeah, it’s a thing. I know that,” he mumbles under his breath, bitterly. He clenches his jaw and looks away. 

You furrow your brows as you stare at his side profile. There’s something deeper behind his words, you know that but you choose to ignore it. 

“So, you are in love with her, huh?” You ask, smirking in satisfaction when you realize that you have successfully used his own teasing against him. 

He scoffs, putting his cigarette between his lips, he stretches his arm out behind you and looks up at the sky, “no, I’m not in love with her.” 

“Am I supposed to believe that?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nod, shrugging, “well, then you gotta believe me that I’m not in love with Steve.” 

He snorts at you, “right, okay.” 

Placing your palms on the bench, you take a moment to look at him. It’s a hot summer night, the heat forced him to leave his beloved leather jacket at home or probably in the van. He wears a muscle shirt, some band logo you don’t recognize on the front. You let your eyes roam, eying his belt, you wonder if he had bought it that way or if he added the cuffs himself– wherever he got them from, either way, it looks good. He plays with the loose strings on his dark jeans, you notice a new ring on his middle finger, you look up, your eyes land on his pale neck. Squeezing your thighs together, you lick your lips and blink, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, your eyes meet his– he caught you staring. 

A smirk pulls at his lips, he eyes your flustered face, whether you realize it or not, you’re biting your bottom lip and squeezing your thighs together– oh, it seems like he found something new to tease you about. 

“Are you checking me out?” 

For the first time, you have nothing to say, nothing to fight back with, no snarky remarks or comments left for you to give. Instead of saying something, you scoff and roll your eyes at him before you jump up and walk away, leaving a satisfied Eddie behind. 

The next time Eddie sees you, you barely even look at him or acknowledge his presence and it pisses him off. It’s no secret that you don’t like him, you let him know any chance you get. You roll your eyes at him, you snap at him and refuse to sit next to him, even when it’s the only free seat left. Eddie takes it as a rejection, he thinks you are repulsed by him and by anything he does. 

A part of him assumes that you think he is gross, after all, that’s what the girls at school say about him. They assume that he is unhygienic, that he doesn’t look after himself, that he doesn’t shower or washes his clothes and that’s why you refuse to sit next to him. 

Eddie was always an observer, a very good one, except when it comes to you. You refuse to sit next to him because his cologne makes you dizzy, in a way it shouldn’t because Eddie hates you, you shouldn’t like anything about him, you shouldn't have any positive feelings for him. 

Eddie thinks you laugh and giggle at the jokes people make about him, not knowing that you always defend him even when he still hates you. 

“Eddie,” Robin hisses, nudging his shoulder. 

“What?” He grumbles, still staring– glaring at you and your stupid smile as you look through the polaroid pictures you have taken with Robin earlier when you went out to a big flower field to take pretty pictures. 

“Stop looking at her like you’re trying to make her disappear.” 

“Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do,” Eddie shrugs as he reaches for the bag of M&M’s, opening the bag and putting the candy into the bowl that Steve had put out on the counter. 

Robin rolls her eyes, groaning in annoyance, “you know, if you just tried to get along with her, things could be so much easier.” 

Eddie hates the way his heart skips a beat when you throw your head back in laughter after Steve had whispered something in your ear. Jealousy rushes through him when Steve comes up behind you and lays his chin on your shoulder, looking at the pictures with you. 

Robin knows her best friend very well. She knows that he doesn’t hate you or dislike you in any way, he is intimidated by you, by the feelings he could have if he just let them in. Eddie had crushes before but they were all lighthearted ones, he, himself didn’t even take them seriously, he just admired that person and then moved on a few days later but you? He always had a thing for you, even before Robin befriended Steve, and you and Eddie were forced into each other’s lives. He always looked at you differently but compared to his other crushes, he never let you become one or at least, that’s what he made himself believe. You are more than just a crush. 

“Why me? She’s the one who’s being a bitch.” 

Robin scoffs, laughing at her best friend, “you’re not serious right now, are you?” 

Eddie’s brown eyes flash with annoyance, “I am serious.” 

Robin runs her fingers through her short hair, “you’re such an idiot, Munson.” 

He scrunches his face up, tearing his eyes away from you and Steve, he turns towards his best friend, “why am I an idiot?” 

“Because you’re the one who’s always being mean towards her for no reason, you act like a damn child who can’t deal with the crush he has on that one girl,” she says in a hushed whisper, glancing at you to see if you or Steve are looking, “you’re my best friend and I love you dude but grow up, you’re 20 for fucks sake!” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, he’s not even hurt, just amused and surprised. 

“Oh and if you haven’t realized it yet, the thing you’re feeling whenever you look at her and Steve, it’s called jealousy,” she smirks as she grabs a few of the snacks they have prepared, “Steve is truly just a best friend, they’re purely platonic, with a capital P, like you and I,” she says, pointing between them, “but when she actually starts dating someone, imagine how you’ll feel then. So, you better get that stick out of your ass and start treating her the way you actually want to treat her.” 

She leaves him standing in the kitchen, smirking to herself when she notices the flustered look on his face. She knows that he likes you, just like Steve knows that you like Eddie. You’re both too stubborn to realize it. 

“Are we ready for movie night, or what?” Robin asks as she places the snacks on the table. 

“Yes!” You say, clapping your hands together, you start collecting the polaroid pictures. 

“What are we starting with?” Steve asks as he gets up to put the tape in, “the shining or the evil dead?” 

“Both are gross,” you shudder. 

“Aw, does the princess need protection?” Eddie asks as he walks into the living room. 

Steve chuckles, smirking at Eddie while you roll your eyes. You get up and walk past him with the pictures in your hand, you put them back in your little backpack, not noticing that you have left one on the floor. Eddie’s eyes fall on the picture, putting the bowl of M&M’s on the table, he bends down to pick it up, it’s a picture of you, it’s a little blurry but still sharp enough for him to see all your beauty. Your smile is bright, your eyes are squinted, the sun is shining down on you, making your skin glow. You’re wearing the same little sundress you’re wearing right now, flowers are tucked into your hair. Eddie can’t even help but smile, his heart beats a little faster. 

You are so beautiful. 

“Alright, let’s watch the movie!” Steve says, startling Eddie, who quickly puts the picture into the backpocket of his jeans, looking around to see if anyone has noticed anything but no one did. Steve settles on the couch, Robin plops down next to him, giving him a knowing smirk. Steve nudges her shoulder as he reaches for the bowl of popcorn. 

Eddie shakes his head, sighing. They are plotting something, he knows, they are. 

Sitting down on the other end of the couch, he leaves the spot next to Robin for you, already expecting you to complain about sitting next to him. To his surprise, you sit down next to him without a single complaint. 

Eddie is a little surprised. 

“Do you want cuddles, bee?” Eddie smirks. 

You roll your eyes as you look at him, “from you? No thanks.” 

He chuckles, “aw, come on, I’ll keep you safe.” 

“I’m not even scared.” 

Lies. 

As much as you love horror movies, some of them just scare you. You flinch at every jump scare, hide your face behind your hands and use every possible excuse to leave the room, whether it is to get snacks or having to use the bathroom and as though the darkness in Steve’s big house isn’t bad enough, it also starts storming outside. The winds are heavy and the thunder is loud, it begins to rain harder and harder. 

Your knees are pulled to your chest and you opt to look out the window instead of the TV screen, just as one of the characters starts screaming, Eddie pokes your waist, startling you. 

“Eddie!” You shriek, slapping his arm, you glare at him as he starts laughing at your reaction. 

“Eddie!” He mimics, pouting at you. 

You roll your eyes, clenching your jaw. 

“Leave her alone, Munson,” Steve chuckles as he throws some popcorn at him, some of it landing in your hair as well and your cleavage. 

Eddie snorts, looking down at his chest, he picks up some of the popcorn and pops it in his mouth, “thanks, I was just about to get some popcorn.” 

You shake your head when Steve throws more at him, ducking out of the way, you pick out the ones in your hair. Eddie snatches them out of your hand, “give them to me.” 

You furrow your brows, watching him eat them. 

“You want this one too?” You joke as you reach for the one that got stuck in your cleavage. 

His eyes widen, a smirk tugging at his lips, he looks into your eyes and you can already see the mischief, the kind of smile that tells that he is up to no good. He leans closer, instead of taking it with his fingers, he opens his mouth, waiting for you to place it on his tongue. 

You swallow nervously, your hand moves out of instinct, placing the sweet treat on his tongue, you gasp a little when he wraps his lips around your finger. 

What the fuck?

Your eyes widen, heat rushes to your cheeks and once again, Eddie forces you to squeeze your thighs together. His lips feel hot against your skin and he looks into your eyes as he licks your finger, you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to feel his lips on other parts of your body, to feel his tongue on your clit and his ringed fingers inside of you as he looks up at you the way he does right now. 

Eddie smirks, he knows what he has done to you. He pulls away, feeling satisfied enough, for now. He leans back against the soft cushions and places his hand on his chest, looking back at the screen, he acts like nothing even happened, while you are left a blushing mess. 

You blink and stare at him in disbelief, goosebumps litter your skin and your heart beats fastly in your chest. As you come back to reality, you suddenly grow incredibly embarrassed, knowing that Steve and Robin most likely watched it all happen but when you turn to glance at them, you notice that Robin is fast asleep and Steve’s eyes are glued to the TV, though the smirk on his face tells you that he saw it all. 

For the rest of the night, you sit there with a flustered look on your face, waiting for it to be over.

The following weeks, Eddie continues to act the same way, mostly. 

He is still mean, snappy and annoying but on top of that, he added his teasing. You know it’s only to humiliate you, knowing that he can make you blush, that he can make you feel something other than anger towards him, he can see the way you react to his subtle touches and suggestive comments. A part of you thought that he would be less rude after realizing that he can get a different kind of rise out of you but you thought wrong, if anything, he becomes meaner and meaner and it all takes an unexpected turn at Tina’s annual Halloween Party. 

Eddie only came reluctantly, he never liked parties and only ever came to make money or to accompany his friends. Steve and Robin are on the dance floor, throwing back drinks, laughing at their own jokes and dancing with a group of drunk and giggling girls. 

Eddie rolls his eyes as he looks around, recognizing some jocks from school with their cheerleader girlfriends who give him nasty looks. He clutches the can of beer tightly against his chest, he tries to entertain himself by looking at all the different costumes but not even that will distract him from the awful music, the annoying people or you. 

You are wearing a fairy costume, a really exposing one. Clad in a short sage green dress, a tight corset, wings that are littered with rhinestones and glitter, heeled boots and a tiara, you look more beautiful than ever, magical. 

Eddie’s heart fluttered in his chest when he saw you as him and Robin waited for you and Steve. He was actually frozen in place and awestruck and so was the guy, you are heavily flirting with right now. 

Your back is pressed against the wall, you’re giggling and smiling at the guy in front of you, his hand is placed against the wall next to your head, he ducks down a little, leaning closer to you so he can hear you better over the loud music. 

Eddie clenches his jaw, anger flooding through his veins the longer he watches you flirt with the jock he can’t remember the name of. 

He puts his other hand on your waist and leans in to whisper something into your ear, you bite your lip and nod causing more anger to rush through Eddie. He can’t stand this, the sight of some asshole touching you, playing with your hair and making you giggle. 

Eddie grips his drink tighter, enough to almost crush it. He watches you with darkened eyes. 

The guy takes your hand and begins to pull you away, the blush on your face is deep and you fight the smile off your face, you don’t even acknowledge Eddie’s presence as you walk past him, hand in hand with the other man who leads you towards the stairs. 

Eddie feels incredibly angry. 

It’s the kind of anger he had never felt before. 

He knows exactly what will happen once the jock has you all to himself and Eddie can’t stand the thought of it. The fire inside of him becomes unbearable, he can’t let it happen. He slams the can of beer on a nearby table and follows you, stomping after you angrily. He pushes some drunk guy out of his way who stumbles back, slurring some curse word at Eddie who doesn’t even bother to look at him. Before you can even take a step further, Eddie reaches for your hand and pulls you back. Your hand slips from the other’s man’s grip and you stumble back into Eddie’s chest, yelping. 

Your confused face meets his, your lips part when you see the anger in his eyes. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding like a man, possessed. 

You furrow your brows, “w-what?” 

Your new friend turns around, looking between you and Eddie. 

“Get lost,” Eddie snaps at him, glaring at the jock, not bothering to look back, he just pulls you along with him, rolling his eyes at your protests. 

“Eddie!” You slap his arm, “let me go!” 

He only shakes his head, walking towards the entrance with a determined look on his face, he opens the door and pulls you out with him. Shutting it behind you and standing it front it so you won’t be able to get back in. 

“What the hell is your problem!”

“What were you doing with that guy?” He asks, completely ignoring your question or the angry look on your face. 

He irritates you in the worst ways possible.

“That’s none of your business, Munson!” You yell, “why do you even care?” 

Eddie avoids eye contact, he looks down at the ground instead and sighs. 

“You do know that he just wants to fuck you, right?” He mumbles. 

“Yeah, you do know that maybe I wanted just that?” You retort, throwing your hands up, “if you haven’t noticed, I don’t really have a boyfriend, oh and might I add that it’s probably your fault?” 

To hear that you wanted to hook up with some random guy, some jock, makes him feel sick but to hear you saying that you don’t have a boyfriend because of him makes him smirk, he can’t even fight it off, not even when he looks up at you and feigns annoyance, “why me?” 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, you can’t even feel the breeze on your exposed skin, you are too angry to notice anything. 

“Every time a guy even looks my way, you’re there, scaring them away! And god forbid someone even comes close to me or touches me in any way!” 

You are fed up with him and his stupid actions. 

You know why he is doing it, he wants to see you miserable and you are miserable, he knows that. He can see the longing looks in your eyes whenever you see a cute couple out on the streets, the sad smiles that pull at your lips whenever you see a guy getting his girlfriend flowers, taking her out on dates or even something as simple as opening the door for her and placing his hand on the small of her back. 

You crave intimacy, you crave having someone to call your own, being someone's favorite person. Yeah, you might be Steve’s favorite person, his girl but you won’t be forever, someday he is gonna meet that one girl that he will drop anyone and anything for, even you and when that happens, you won’t have anyone. 

You aren’t lucky in the dating department, at all. If it isn’t Eddie scaring the guys away, then it’s you, doing it for him. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You ask, “I know you hate me but god, when I hate someone, I stay away from them, why can’t you do the same for me?” 

Eddie frowns at your words, his eyes flash with guilt when he sees the tears in your eyes, you aren’t just angry this time, you’re also hurt. 

“Maybe I was just protecting you,” he shrugs. 

You scoff at his words, shaking your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes for a moment, “protect me,” you mumble, “right, am I supposed to believe that?” You ask as you look back into his eyes. You struggle to read him. Eddie’s walls are so high up, you can’t even sneak a peek. 

He nods, “yes, the guy is a jock, bee.” 

“So?” 

“He would just hurt you!” He says angrily, taking a step forward, “he would get his dick wet and leave you with nothing, then he would brag about it to his friends and I can assure you, that guy doesn’t even know how to make a girl cum, I did you a favor.” 

You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head, “do you?” 

He blinks. 

“What?” 

“Do you know how to make a girl cum?” 

He blushes at your words, drawing back a little, he straightens up and chuckles, “of course.” 

You lick your lips, looking him up and down. Eddie must be one of the only ones without a costume, you wonder why he isn’t wearing one, that guy is in love with his fantasy game, there is no way that he is no fan of Halloween and costumes. 

“Right,” you snort. 

“You don’t believe me?” He asks as he steps even closer to you. 

You shrug, “nope, I don’t believe you.” 

One moment, he was standing feets away from you and suddenly, he is right in front of you. Dangerously close. You have to tilt your head to meet his eyes and when you do, your heart skips a beat. His eyes are dark, pupils blown as he sneaks a look at your lips. 

You can smell his cologne, his aftershave, him. You would never tell him that but he drives you crazy, he makes your stomach flutter, he stays on your mind for too long, sneaking his way into your thoughts when you touch yourself at night. 

Eddie reaches his hand out to touch your face, he cups your cheek and lets his thumb rest on your bottom lip. Just like the night at Steve’s place, your breath hitches in your throat and you grow incredibly flustered. 

“Do you want me to show you?” He whispers. 

Your eyes widen, a small gasp falls from your lips. 

What? 

No way, did he just ask you that? 

He is playing with you, isn’t he? 

By now he knows the effect he has on you. He knows that you blush when he is around, he knows that you feel something when he touches you, he knows that you can’t get him off your mind. He knows it all and he decides to use it against you, he knows that he can humiliate you, he knows that he can hurt you and it brings him enjoyment. 

The smirk on his face and the amusement in his eyes tells you all that. Internally, he is making fun of you, he is satisfied that he ruined your night and as though that isn’t enough, he now uses your attraction towards him as a weapon, to laugh about you later on and make fun of you with his band buddies.

You slap his hand away, your brows draw together and your nervous stare turns into an angry frown, “don’t touch me, asshole.” 

Though he is a little surprised, he still chuckles. 

You shake your head and step away from him, turning around, you don’t even bother going back inside to let your friends know that you’re leaving or to get your jacket, you just want to be away from him. 

It’s late and it’s cold, you are scared to walk through the empty streets alone but you are too stubborn to back around. 

“Hey!” 

You roll your eyes at him and continue to walk. 

“Where are you going?” 

You don’t bother to answer, you hug yourself tighter to shield yourself from the cold, blinking away the angry tears. The streets are empty, aside from the many cars on the side of the streets, you walk past Steve’s car, suddenly regretting the decision to walk away and choosing to walk home alone, on Halloween night.

You hear his footsteps though and as much as you hate to admit it, you do feel at ease knowing that he comes after you. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at your silence but he admires the view in front of him. Your dress is a thin and flowy one, it swats from one side to the other with each step that you take, the wind causes it to lift up a bit, exposing your naked skin. Eddie almost growls at the side of it. 

“Bee!” 

“Stop calling me that, you dick!” 

Eddie snorts at you, your insults never hurt him, if anything, they amuse him. When you look at him with anger in your eyes and snap back at him, you look cuter than ever. He picks up the pace and just as you pass his van, he grabs your arm and pulls you back, smirking at your little yelp, he slams you against his van and steps in front of you, caging you against it. 

It’s dark and yet he can see the nervous and shy look in your eyes, he can see the way you tense up and press yourself against the van as though it will make you feel him any less against you. 

“Will you stop running away from me?” 

He places his hands on your waist, touching you in such a gentle way that it makes your knees buckle, almost. You look into his dark eyes, growing more and more irritated. Why can’t he just let you go? Why can’t he just stay out of your goddamn way? Why does he have to make things so hard for you? 

You hate him. 

“Will you stop sticking your nose into my business?” You ask angrily as you place your hand on his chest to push him away, as though you will find the strength to, “will you stop following me around just to piss me off? Seriously, what do you get out of this, huh?” 

Eddie shrugs, the smirk remains on his lips, he eyes the scowl on your face, the flash with irritation in your eyes, he looks down at your chest, watching the way it rises up and down heavily. 

“It’s fun to see you like this.” 

You clench your jaw and scoff. 

“It’s fun to ruin my life?” 

Now it’s his turn to scoff, he rolls his eyes at your words, “you’re so dramatic.” 

"Oh, am I?" You mumble. 

He nods, his grip tightens on your waist, butterflies flutter in your stomach and you despise it. You despise the emotions he causes you to feel. 

“Yeah, I ruined your life because you didn’t get to fuck that jock?” He snorts, narrowing his eyes at you, “you are dramatic, bee.” 

You close your eyes and lower your head, shaking it as you take deep breaths. 

“You are so annoying.” 

“Hmm, what was that?” Eddie whispers, placing his finger under your chin, he tilts your head up, “say that again.” 

You swallow nervously, not opening your eyes just yet, you lick your lips, “you are annoying.”

“Why?” 

“Why?” You laugh in disbelief as you open your eyes to look at him. He is staring at you with curiosity on his face, tilting his head as he waits for your explanation. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” you scoff, pulling your hand away from his chest, you wrap it around his wrist instead and force his hand away from your face, “is that actually a serious question?” 

He purses his lips and nods, “yep.” 

“You’re an asshole, Eddie!” 

He rolls his eyes, “yeah, you said that before.” 

“Yeah and you don’t believe me! You treat me like shit–”

“No, I don’t!” 

“Yes, you do, Eddie!” You exclaim, “you say mean shit all the time, you make dumb comments and tease me and then act like nothing ever happened!” 

“Tease you how?” He smirks, completely ignoring the rest of your words. 

You squint your eyes, huffing angrily. Is he actually clueless or does he just want to see you so angry and embarrassed? Either way, he always gets what he wants. 

“You sucked on my finger and then you acted like nothing happened!”

Your angry pout makes his heart soar. 

“That’s what you’re so upset about?” He chuckles. 

His smirk causes the outburst of anger, you finally push him away from you. There is absolutely nothing amusing about this situation, at least not to you. 

“Wipe that smirk off your goddamn face, Munson! I can’t stand when you do that!” 

“Did you want me to do more than that?” He asks. 

“You wish,” you scoff, “you think I want you?” 

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that hurt flashed in his eyes but that can’t be, right? Why would he be hurt by anything you say? 

He chuckles bitterly and nods to himself. 

“No,” he mumbles, “I know you don’t want me. A fancy little princess like you wants someone like that jock, you want someone who will buy you shit, someone who will spoil you, take you on dates to Enzo’s or whatever, someone you can take home to your rich parents, someone you won’t feel embarrassed to be with, someone you can be seen with, someone you will have that ‘perfect’ future with.” 

Confused, you stare at him with a frown on your face. 

Eddie’s anger comes out of nowhere the way it always does. 

“But sweetheart, none of them can give you what you need.”

“W-What do I need?” You ask, waiting for him to continue. He watches the way your eyes flicker down to his lips before they meet his eyes again.   

“They can’t touch you like you crave to be touched, they can’t kiss you like you wanna be kissed, they can’t fuck you like you wanna be fucked, they can’t treat you like you deserve to be treated.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your lips part in surprise, your heart begins to pound against your ribcage. 

Eddie somehow made his way into your personal space again. He is close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. 

“You need someone to put you in your place, you need someone to be rough with you, someone who can treat you like the little slut that you are,” he says, gripping your face in his large hand, “I see the way you look at me when you think that I’m not paying attention, I can see the way you squeeze your thighs together when you look at my hands, I bet you wonder what it would feel like if I touched you, huh? I bet you touch yourself and think about me, about my hands, about my fingers in your tight little pussy.” 

Your eyes widen, heat rushes to your cheeks, you are too overwhelmed to keep your eyes locked with his, so you look down. 

Eddie smirks but it’s a dark smirk, a bitter one. 

“Bet you are disgusted by yourself, huh?” He spits as he grips you tighter, “thinking about fucking the dirty town freak, I bet you hate yourself for wanting to ride my dick, that’s why you’re always such a bitch to me, right?” He asks angrily, “you take your anger out on me because you can’t stand yourself for wanting to fuck me?” 

You shake your head. He is wrong, so wrong. He is no dirty freak in your eyes and you are not disgusted by him, you are disgusted by yourself for wanting someone who hates your guts so much, not for who he is. Eddie is amazing to his friends but unfortunately, you aren’t one of them. 

You never hated Eddie, at least not until he forced you to hate him. 

“No.” 

“No?” He murmurs as he leans even closer to you, “you don’t think about me?” 

You shift, looking up at him with a shy expression, you don’t bother answering, your silence gives it away. 

You do think about him. He knows it. 

You hate the way he looks so sure of his words, the way he thinks that he has you all figured out, the way he thinks he knows everything about you. 

“Get away from me, Eddie,” you say with a shaky voice and an unsure voice, you both know that you don’t want it, you don’t want him to get away. 

He licks his lips as he stares down at you. The look in his eyes makes you cower back a little, it makes you feel nervous but also flustered. Eddie raises his hand up to your face, he tucks your hair behind your ear and leans down, surprising you by pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. 

Your lips part and you hold your breath. 

“Why?” He whispers as he kisses you again, higher this time, “scared that you will fall for the town freak?” His fingers play with the thin material of your dress, pushing it a little aside so he has more access to your shoulder, he presses his plump lips back against your shoulder, kissing you again and again, “scared that you will hate yourself for it?” 

You can’t even utter a single word, too many emotions rush through you. You are confused about this, you are angry about his words but you are also aroused and yes, you do hate yourself for it but not for the reason he thinks. 

His hand grips your waist, he pulls you flush against him and you gasp when you feel his bulge pressing against your stomach. Eddie attaches his lips to your neck, “scared that no one else will wanna touch you after the freak fucked you? What would they think if they already knew that you are fantasizing about it? I bet they would think you’re disgusting–” 

“God, shut the fuck up!” 

You push him away from you with force, your breathing is heavy, just like his. Eddie looks a little surprised by your sudden outburst, rejection crosses his features, his brows drag together and he opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something hurtful after you just pushed him away like that, he wants the upper hand but you won’t let him have it, not this time. 

“Just shut up,” you repeat. 

He presses his lips together in a straight line, he is tense, his eyes hold a combination of hurt and anger. The tension between the two of you is thick. Nothing else but you both exist in this moment. You don’t hear the faint music from the ongoing party, you don’t feel the cold wind on your exposed skin, you don’t hear the rustling of the leaves but you hear his heavy breathing, you hear the pounding of your heart, you feel the pull towards him. 

Eddie waits for you to say something, to do something. A part of him expects you to slap him for kissing you without permission, the other part expects you to hurt him with cruel words but neither of those things happen. 

You stare at him for what feels like forever. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes, your stomach flutters and your knees feel weak, you’re angry but you also long for him. 

Fuck it. 

You take a step forward and look into his awaiting eyes. 

Fuck it, y/n.

You grab his face and pull him down, you close your eyes and slam your lips against his. Eddie’s eyes widen, he stares at you in shock and confusion. You are kissing him. You are kissing him! And your lips feel as soft as he always imagined them to feel like. His heart begins to race. 

Kiss her, idiot! He tells himself. He cups your cheeks and pulls you closer, closing his eyes, he finally kisses you back and if this isn’t the best feeling in the world then he doesn’t know what is. 

You slide your hands down to his neck, holding him tightly as you deepen the kiss. Eddie parts his lips, allowing you to slip your tongue past his lips. He moans at the feeling, his skin and his lips tingle, he already feels addicted to your touch. 

The kiss is nothing but passionate, it’s soft and gentle but you want more, you want to feel him closer and closer, you slide your hand down his stomach and wrap your arm around his waist, pressing him tighter against you. He moans at the feeling, his heart flutters. 

Eddie walks you back and slams you against his van, earning a whimper from you. You kiss each other until you are both short of oxygen and gasping for air but even as he pulls away, his lips keep touching yours. You breathe into each other’s mouths, keeping each other close as your eyes lock again. 

He wants you, you can see it in his eyes. 

This time it’s him who initiates the kiss, he slams his lips roughly against yours causing you to let out a loud and needy whimper, you can feel him smirking against your lips. 

This kiss is rough and angry. Your lips smack loudly against each other, your teeth clash but neither of you care, you pull his hair and make him growl. He digs his ringed fingers into your waist as he pushes his knee in between your thighs. 

“Eddie,” you gasp as he starts kissing his way down to your neck. 

“Yes?” 

“I know you hate me,” you whisper as you close your eyes and put your hand in his hair, holding onto his curl as he begins to suck on your sweet spot. 

No, he doesn’t hate you. How could he? Instead of telling you this, he keeps quiet, choosing to continue kissing you. 

“Show me.” 

“Show you what?” 

“Show me how much you hate me,” you whisper, “please.” 

Eddie opens his eyes and he pulls away from your neck to look at you. He can see the look in your eyes, the intrigued and needy one. 

You want him just like he wants you. 

“Are you sure?” 

For a split second, you see a different side of him, a soft one, a caring one. 

You nod. 

He grabs your jaw, tilting your head up so you are forced to look at him, “I need words, sweetheart.” 

You nod again, “yes, I’m sure.” 

Without wasting another second, Eddie unlocks his van and pushes you into the back, closing the door behind him. He fumbles around in the dark for a moment until he finds the switch that turns on the little light.

Looking around, you raise your brows, feeling a little impressed by the lack of the mess you expected. A few pillows are laying around, blankets, even a few comics. You know that he and Robin used to go to the drive-in movie theaters a lot but you can’t help but wonder if he ever brings other girls in here. If he brought the pillows and blankets here just for them so they can feel comfortable. You wonder how he treats them, does he tease them like he teases you? Does he kiss them like he just kissed you? Is he mean to them? Or is he sweet to them? Does he treat them better than he treats you? 

Suddenly, you feel yourself frowning and growing insecure and unsure. Do you really want to fuck the guy that hates you with a passion? 

But you never answer your own question. Eddie grabs your face and pulls you back in for a heated kiss. You kiss back without a moment of hesitation. 

His scent, his taste, his touch, you are addicted already and you feel the hatred for yourself growing. You don't know that he feels the same about you, that he loves the way you taste, that he loves the way you smell so sweet, you don't know that he just loves you.

You push his jacket off his shoulders while he fumbles with the wings on your costume, surprising you by taking them off carefully so he doesn’t break them. Something about the way he parts from the kiss, to put the wings down gently, makes your heart flutter. 

You blink, forcing yourself to look away from him. You take the tiara off your head and place it on the ground as well, reaching for the zipper on your dress– “stop, let me.” Eddie mumbles as he reaches around you to undo it. You stare at him, admiring the way his brown eyes shine so beautifully beneath the dim light. He pushes your dress down to your stomach, his eyes flickering with something you cannot read. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he eyes your lacy bra, your boobs, your soft skin, “you’re so sexy,” he breathes, forgetting about the hate he is supposed to show to you, “so beautiful, shit..” 

Eddie doesn’t notice the emotions in your eyes, the lingering sadness and the insecurity. You distract yourself by kissing him again and again, reaching for the hem of his shirt, you take it off of him. He throws it behind him on the floor. 

You place your hands on his pale chest, taking in the sight of his tattoos, you feel the urge to kiss every single one of them. 

Eddie admires the way you look at him, the way your lips part and your eyes flash with emotions. He touches your cheeks, moving your hair out of your face. You look up at him with big eyes, “touch me.” 

He smirks, “don’t have to ask me twice.” 

He pushes you down carefully, making sure that you lie your head on the pillows, your back meets the soft cushions and you sigh as you feel his cold hands on your stomach, you’re almost too shy to look up at him but when you do, your heart stops. 

Eddie stares down at you in awe, he bunches your dress up on your waist and eyes you up and down, from your pretty face to your chest, your stomach and your clothed pussy. He pushes your legs apart and settles in between them, putting your legs over his, he spreads you open and stares at the wet spot on your pink panties. 

“Fuck,” he growls, all his blood rushes to his dick, as though he wasn’t hard already, he feels himself growing harder, “I’m gonna ruin your pussy, baby.” 

Your cunt clenches around nothing, you take in a sharp breath as his eyes meet yours, “take your bra off,” he orders. 

You bite your lip, pushing yourself up on your elbows, you do as he said, pushing the straps of your bra down first, you watch the way his eyes darken when you reach behind you to unclasp it. You blush, feeling yourself getting shy under his gaze. 

“Show me your tits, pretty girl.” 

You hate him, you hate him so much.

You throw your bra to the side and lie back against the pillows.

He grips your thighs tightly, eyes flashing with hunger, “perfect fucking tits,” he murmurs as he slides one hand up to touch your boobs. 

“Eddie,” you whimper. 

He adjusts your legs, wrapping them around his waist, his clothed dick brushes against your pussy, making you both moan in pleasure. He leans down to kiss your chest, taking one nipple in his mouth, he begins to suck on it. 

“Oh.. Eddie,” you moan as you throw your hand in his hair, “i-is that how you treat people you hate?” 

He chuckles against you, pulling away from you, he gives you a suggestive look as he sits back up, he shakes his head at you, “just you, baby,” he says. 

“Touch yourself.” 

You blink. 

“What?” 

He looks down, bringing his hand to your aching pussy, he touches you over your panties, rubbing your clit teasingly, smirking at your little whine. 

“Touch yourself or I won’t fuck you.” 

Perv. 

You swallow nervously, slipping your hand down your stomach, you close your eyes and touch yourself over your panties, spreading your legs wider, you start rubbing your clit. 

“Open your eyes,” he demands, catching you off guard by smacking your ass. You gasp and open your eyes, seeing the dark look in his eyes makes you even wetter, “look at me when you touch yourself.” 

You nod. 

“Show me how you touch yourself when you’re all alone, baby. Tell me what you think about.” 

A shiver runs down your spine. You always thought about this, about him. It’s hot to see him so rough and dominating but a part of you hates that he gets to have all the control. You push yourself up a little and bring your hand up to his lips, looking into his curious eyes, you smirk, “spit on them.” 

He raises his brows, eyes flashing with surprise. He does it without questioning you. Spitting onto your fingers.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You push your panties to the side and touch yourself with your spit covered fingers, letting out a loud moan as you run your fingers through your wet folds before you begin to rub your aching clit. 

Eddie’s dick twitches in his pants as he watches you. 

“Such a pretty pussy, fuck,” he grunts, fighting the urge to bury his face in your cunt. 

“You wanna know what I think about when I touch myself?” 

“Yes.. fuck, yes. I wanna know.” 

You smirk at him. You won’t give him what he wants, you won’t let him hear what he wants to hear. Why should you? He is gonna treat you even worse when this is over, why should you give him the truth? 

“I-I think about Steve,” you moan as you push a finger inside of you, “I think about my best friend fucking me with his big fat cock.” Lies. You think about him fucking you, you think about him splitting you open, you think about him eating you out, fingering you with his rings on, making you his slut. 

Eddie’s smirk falls from his face, his eyes darken. 

You add a second finger and push it in and out of your wet pussy, moaning at the feeling, “I think about him making me cry as he takes me from behind, as he– fuck.. as he slaps my ass and does whatever he wants.” 

You are lying, he knows you’re lying. The look on your face tells him that but he still grows angry and jealous. 

You fuck yourself on your fingers, throwing your head back in pleasure as you move them in and out, “I think about riding his dick, about how he would cum inside of me and fill me up until I’m–” 

“Shut the fuck up, you little whore,” Eddie growls, grabbing your wrist, he slams it against the floor and replaces your fingers with his, pushing his long and thick fingers into your hole. 

You gasp loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as you finally feel his fingers inside you, finally getting to feel what you always dreamed about.

His other hand grabs your cheeks, squishing them together roughly, “I told you to look at me!” 

Your stomach clenches as does your cunt, your mouth waters at the feeling of him spreading you open. 

“Open your eyes, brat.” 

You open your eyes to look at his angry ones. You have never seen him this angry before. You should be scared, you know that. But instead you feel yourself getting more needy, more wet, more aroused. You moan even louder than before and grind back against his fingers. 

“Now tell me the truth,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts to fuck you with his fingers, “who do you think about?” 

You push yourself up on your elbows to watch him, to see how they move in and out of you. 

“S-Steve.” 

He slaps your cheek lightly causing you to whimper. 

“Liar,” he grunts, he leans over you, wrapping his hand around your neck, he slams you back down and looks into your needy eyes as he continues to slam his fingers in and out of you. 

“Eddie,” you whimper.

“That’s right,” he grunts, “say my name.” 

He adds a third finger, thrusting them in and out of you. His fingers reach deeper than yours, they reach the spot that you can’t, his rings and the coldness of them just bring more pleasure to your body. You lose yourself in the feeling, you close your eyes despite him telling you not to, your lips part and you chant his name like a prayer. You arch your back in pleasure, tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie stares at you, he watches the way your chest rises up and down, the way you flinch a little when his hand leaves your neck to touch your boob, to play with your nipple. Your stomach tenses up, your pussy clenches around his fingers, you are so wet, he can feel your juices dripping down his fingers, the squelching noises and your moans just make it all even more erotic. 

You whimper his name so beautifully. 

“Eddie, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“I wanna cum,” you please, “please let me cum.” 

A devilish smirk appears on his face, “oh, you’re gonna cum, baby.” 

His words should intimidate you, they should leave you feeling nervous but instead they make you crave him even more. 

Eddie leans down and as you feel him shifting, you open your eyes to look at him. He picks up the pace, fucking you harder and faster on his fingers as he presses his tongue against your sensitive clit. 

“Oh fuck! Eddie!” 

“Mhmm,” he hums against you, looking up at you as he licks your clit, “taste so sweet.” 

You spread your legs wider for him and push your hand in his hair, tugging at his dark curls. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby,” he murmurs against you, “you wanna cum for me? Do it.” 

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high, you cum around his fingers just as he tells you too, you moan loudly, gasping for air but Eddie doesn’t stop there, he pulls his fingers out. He throws your legs over his shoulders and before you can even react, he buries his face in your pussy, slipping his tongue into you, he moans loudly. 

“Eddie,” you whine as you watch him through blurry eyes, his rough hands dig into your thighs as he holds them wide open, his eyes are closed as he eats you out, “oh my god.” 

Eddie loves the way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel, the way you beg for him. 

“Feels so good…” 

He loves knowing that he is the one making you feel so good. 

He opens his eyes to look at you, you’re staring at him already, barely able to keep your eyes open, you hold onto his hair so tightly. A single tear slips down your hot cheek. 

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he breathes, smirking at you when he spits on your clit before he places his thumb against it. 

Your eyes roll back and you throw your head against the pillows, you try closing your legs but Eddie is stronger than you. 

“P-Please..” You sob, pulling at his hair even harder causing him to growl in response. He flicks his tongue inside of you and presses harder against your clit and before you know it, you cum again. 

Tears run down your cheeks, you are so sensitive already. 

“No more,” you whimper as he continues to lick your pussy, “please.. I just want your cock.” 

Eddie smirks at you, pulling away, he sits back up. 

Your heart flutters as you look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his curls are messy, his chin is glistening from your juices, saliva dripping down his chest. 

You look so fucked out already, sweat coats your forehead, your breathing is heavy and you push your thighs together as you look up at him. Eddie unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans and boxers down just below his ass, his dick slaps against his stomach.

You push yourself up on your elbows, biting your lip as you stare at him, “do you want me to suck your dick?” You ask as you reach your hand out to wrap your fingers around his thick cock, you lick your lips, pre cum is rolling down his length and it takes everything in you not to take him into your mouth. 

Eddie hisses at your touch, his eyelashes flutter. 

“Do you want to fuck my face?” You ask, innocently. 

He growls, eyes darkening, he shakes his head, “next time, baby. I need to be inside of you,” he says. 

“Condom?” You ask. 

He closes his eyes, cursing at himself, “I don’t have any.” 

You raise your brows, “what do you mean, you don’t have any?” 

“It means I don’t have any!” He snaps at you. 

“Don’t you use condoms when you fuck?” 

A loud laugh falls from his lips, he opens his eyes, shaking his head, “when I fuck? Sweetheart, I don’t get laid very often. I have a whole unopened box of condoms at home,” he snorts. 

“You don’t fuck girls in your van?” 

“Y/n, the last time I fucked someone, I stole a condom from Jeff and no, I don’t fuck girls in my van.”

Relief floods through you, here you thought that he was fucking girls in his van and getting laid every weekend.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him down against you, catching him by surprise. He presses his hands against the floor and looks down at you. 

“And I’m not really into fucking random girls,” he adds. 

Your eyes widen a little, “am I not a random girl?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. 

You could never be a random girl. 

“No, you’re my enemy,” he says before he slams his lips against yours. 

You whine against him and kiss him roughly, digging your feet into his ass, you pull him even closer until you feel his cock rubbing against your pussy. He moans in pleasure, gripping your hips tightly. 

“Fuck me, please. I don’t care about the condom, just fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, holding his neck tightly, “please.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, eying your expression, slowly. 

You nod, “very sure.” 

Eddie pecks your lip softly. For someone who wanted to fuck you, he sure is a little soft with you. 

He leans back, staring down at you in awe, he grabs your waist, licking his lips. You watch him, looking at the way he wraps his ringed fingers around his cock, he slides it through your wet folds, teasing your clit with the tip. 

“Shit,” he shudders, “you’re so wet. All for me, right?” 

You bite your lip, furrowing your brows as you gulp, nodding. 

“Say it’s all for me,” he demands. 

“It’s for you,” you whine, “all for you, asshole!” 

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head at you. You open your mouth again but before you can say anything, Eddie grabs you tighter and in one motion, he thrusts into you, earning a loud gasp from you. 

He whimpers at the feeling of your tight walls, leaning down, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck…” You whimper, wrapping your arms around him, “Eddie.” You clench around his cock and hold him tightly. 

“You’re so tight and wet,” he grunts against your shoulder, “‘m not gonna last long if you keep clenching around me like this.” 

“I told you to show me how much you hate me, Eddie,” you breathe, digging your nails into his back, “so far you��re not doing a good job.” 

Something inside of him snaps, he pulls back, placing one hand around your neck, he puts the other one on the pillow next to you. He glares at you. 

“You’re a brat, you know that, right?” He growls as he begins to thrust into you. 

You gasp at the feeling, taking a deep breath. 

“Always getting on my goddamn nerves,” he grunts as he tightens his hold on your neck, he pulls out and pushes back inside of you, roughly. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to do this.” He thrusts deeper, rougher, faster. “How many times I wanted to fuck your needy little pussy and watch you cry for more.” 

You look down, watching the way he fucks you roughly on his cock. He moves his hands down to grab your hips with both hands. 

“Look at me, baby,” he moans as he starts to pound your pussy, “look at the way you’re taking my cock.. Your pussy was made for me, you were made for me.” 

The knot in your stomach tightens, the fire inside of you burns. You feel him in your stomach. You wrap your legs tighter around him and throw your hand back to wrap it around his wrist, “fuck me harder!” You beg, despite the overwhelming sensation in your bones. 

“Harder?” He chuckles, “I’ll give you harder, you little brat.” 

He enjoys the way you squirm under his body, the way you struggle to take his big cock and yet ask for more. For a moment, he just watches you, he watches the way his cock disappears in your body, the way your juices drip down on the blanket beneath you, the way you throw your head back in pleasure and cry for him, the way your boobs bounce as he ruts into you. You are struggling, your moans are getting high pitched, tears are streaming down your face as you move your head to the side. 

“Feels so good, Eddie,” you whimper. 

His mouth waters, his stomach clenches as your pussy flutters around his dick. He moans desperately, closing his eyes for a second as he feels himself getting closer. He leans down, grabbing your face, “look at me,” he whispers, “open your eyes and look at me.” 

You grip his wrist tighter and open your eyes to look at him, your breathing stutters as you see the way he looks at you, there is something in his eyes you haven’t seen before but you decide to ignore it. 

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.” 

Your eyes widen but you do as he says, opening it, you stick it out for him and maintain eye contact. 

He grabs your chin, smirking at you before he spits in your mouth. 

Now, if anyone else had done that to you, you would spit it right out and slap them across the face but something about him doing it to you makes you clench even harder around him, the moans you get from him make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you like that huh?” He mumbles as you swallow it, he pats your cheek, “you filthy little slut.” 

“Mhmm, I like it,” you smirk and pull him down for a kiss. 

You can feel his dick twitching inside of you, his thrusts are getting sloppier and his moans are getting louder and more desperate. You kiss each other roughly and hold each other tight. His chest is pressed against yours, he pulls his wrist out of your grip to hold your hand instead. 

You jolt as you feel his fingertips on your clit. 

“Cum for me,” he mumbles against your lips, “cum on my dick.”

You moan loudly as you cum around him, you scratch his back as you dig your nails into his skin causing him to groan loudly. You clench hard around him and pull him even closer. 

“Baby.. fuck.. fuck,” he whimpers against you, “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, unsure of where you want him. 

“Cum inside me… ‘wanna feel you, Eddie.” 

His heart flutters and his eyes widen as he looks down at you, “you sure?” 

“Mhmm, please…” 

“Fuck… okay.. shit, baby,” he whimpers as he picks up the pace again, “you want me to breed you, huh? You want me to fill you up with my cum, shit.. I will. I’m gonna leave you dripping for days.. I’m gonna make you mine.” 

Mine. 

“No one’s ever touching you again,” he moans, “gonna– oh fuck…” He grunts as he places his fingers back against your clit. 

“Eddie!” You sob, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel an even stronger sensation in your lower belly. He drills in and out of you in such a rough way, you can’t even feel your legs anymore or the tears that stream down your cheeks all you feel is him. 

“I know you got one more in you, baby,” he grunts, kissing your lips, “cum with me.. one more time.” 

“I can’t!” You sob. 

“Yes, you can, I can feel it, you’re getting tighter around me, just let go for me.” 

You can’t even help it, you bite his shoulder and cage him in against you with your legs. He grunts in pain and whimpers in pleasure, he thrusts into you once, twice– “cum with me!” 

You let go and cum around him as he releases inside of you, filling you up with his seed. 

He whimpers into your neck, holding you tightly as he moans at the feeling. His hips stutter and he finally falls against you. You’re drooling on his shoulder, whimpering at the feeling of his twitching cock inside your pussy. Eddie breathes heavily, not pulling out just yet, he slumps against you and presses lazy kisses on your shoulder. 

“Fuck,” he sighs with a grin on his face that you can’t see. 

You’re barely able to keep your eyes open, letting go of him, you drop your arms to your sides and close your eyes. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” you whisper. 

Eddie smirks, “guess I fucked you good, huh?”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile, “guess so…”

“What do you mean ‘guess so’?” He scoffs as he pulls himself up a little to look at you, “you came four times, you brat.” 

“Should’ve made that five times,” you shrug. 

Eddie shakes his head at you, though he can’t help but smirk, you’re a mess. Your hair is disheveled, your cheeks are wet from the tears, your body is hot and shaking from all the orgasms he just pulled out of you. 

Grabbing your cheeks, he turns your face towards him, “does that mean I get to make you cum again?” He smirks. 

You lick your lips, staring at the spot on his shoulder that you dug your teeth in, you reach out to touch it, “if you want to,” you shrug, acting like it means nothing to you. 

“If I want to?” He asks, “what about you, do you want to?” 

You are too scared to show him that you do but right now, he isn’t scared to show you how vulnerable he can be. His eyes that usually only ever hold anger for you, hold nothing but hope, it confuses you a little. 

You furrow your brows, “I-I don’t know,” you whisper, unable to look into his eyes any longer, you push him back, “get off, please.” 

He shakes his head and cups your cheeks, “no, look at me,” he demands, softly. 

You blink, swallowing nervously as you look back into his eyes, “you got what you wanted, Eddie.” 

“What do you mean?” He frowns. 

“You fucked me, put me in my place or whatever, now you can move on to someone else.” 

He scoffs, “is that what you think of me?” 

You shrug, looking at him with uncertainty in your eyes, “can you blame me?” You whisper, “you treat me like shit.” 

His eyes flash with guilt, he nods to himself. Without another word, he pulls away from you, pulling out with a hiss, he puts your panties back in place and puts his boxers and jeans back on. 

He fucked up, he knows it. Eddie always struggled with the feelings he had for you. Robin was right when she called him immature for treating you like this– the girl that he secretly loves. He hoped that this would change something but he thought wrong, if anything, he had made things worse for himself, knowing that he got to have you this once and probably never again, breaks his heart. 

Eddie hates himself at this moment. 

You glance at him as you put your dress back on, not bothering with your bra. Eddie’s hair is a mess, his cheeks are still red, his shoulder and neck littered with bite marks from you. He blinks fastly, as though he tries to blink tears away, it makes your heart clench in your chest. You want to pull him back into your arms and kiss him. Is it a good idea though? Probably not. 

You fix your hair and smooth out your dress. Eddie puts his shirt back on, sniffling quietly. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you remember all the times that he made you feel bad, all the times he pissed you off and made you angry, all the times he made you feel insecure, yet nothing, absolutely nothing made you feel worse than this. 

You leave. You get out of the van on shaky legs, placing your feet on the concrete floor, you blink the tears away as you step away from the van and from him. Now you feel the cold wind and the lonely feeling inside of you. You don’t wanna go, not after you had a taste of what it could be like if he just loved you. 

You halt in your tracks, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. 

You can’t walk away, not from him. 

You turn back around and just as you take a step forward, Eddie suddenly jumps out of the van with a panicked look on his face and tears in his eyes. Surprised by your presence in front of him, he stares at you for a moment before he reaches out to grab your waist, you let him pull you closer, “please don’t go,” he whispers, “give me a chance, sweetheart. I'll fix things between us, I will, I promise, I will."

He pleads with his eyes and holds you tightly against him, afraid that you will disappear any moment. 

Your heart stutters and your knees almost buckle. 

“I-I know I fucked up but please–”

You kiss him for the hundredth time tonight and wrap your arms around him. He responds instantly, kissing you back softly and pressing your back against his van just like before, only this time, the kiss is sweet and filled with longing. 

“I’m crazy about you too,” you admit. 

“You are?” He asks. A smile tugs at his lips, happiness crosses his features. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. Placing your palms against his chest, you peck his lips again, “and I never think about Steve,” you mumble, cringing at the words that you have given him before, “he is my best friend and I never ever wanted him and he doesn’t want me either, Eddie.” 

He believes you. 

“I always just wanted you,” you whisper. 

His heart soars at your words, his gaze softens, he could melt right there and then, “do you still want me?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, “do you want me?” 

You look shy and uncertain of your words, you’re about to look down and break eye contact but he stops you from doing so, tilting your head up, he kisses your lips, “more than anything, sweetheart.” 

“Shit.” 

Robin smirks at Steve who holds your jacket in his hand. 

“I think you owe me 50 bucks.” 

Steve rolls his eyes as he watches you and Eddie making out against his van, “no, I don’t. We don’t know who made the first move.” 

Robin laughs, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m saying she did, so..” 

Steve shakes his head, “no, Eddie was the one who made moves on her all this time, it was definitely him.” 

“You know what?” Robin tears his eyes away from you and Eddie and looks back at Steve, “I bet they’re gonna keep this a secret.” 

Steve smirks, shaking his head when he sees Eddie picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, taking you back to his van. 

“Yeah and they’re definitely gonna slip up in the next two weeks.” 

Robin shakes her head, “no, y/n can keep a secret, I’m giving them three.” 

“Let’s bet on that then.” 

“Okay,” Robin nods, “let’s make it 100 bucks.” 

Steve sighs, “alright then, say goodbye to your money, Buckley.” 

“You wish.” 

[swallowtailcherry]

hii,( if ur are accepting requests rn ) could I request buddha with mutsuri!goddess please? headcanon or scenario, both are fine

YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY 🥰💞

🍡Buddha with a Mitsuri!Goddess!Reader🍡

Buddha might be ooc, but i tried to keep him in character as possible!

Damn, how many times did i write a Mitsuri!reader thing?!

He's a bit wary at first. The gods don't like him, same goes for him not liking them.

But he slowly starts to like you over time.

While the other gods are arrogant and narcissistic, you were kind and selfless, even more towards humans. Plus, you never pestered him about anything and never told him what to do.

And now you're one of the only deities who he genuinely likes out of all the gods. And that is very clear for anyone who sees.

He shares his snacks with you. We know he doesn't do that to everyone, just to anyone he actually likes.

Speaking of snacks, he'll absolutely eat anything you make for him. Especially the candies. You introduced him to sakura mochis, and he is often seen with them now along with his usual lollipops. (Thankfully it didn't change his hair colour-)

You always have a sweet smell on you, and he likes it.

You, on the other hand, really love him.

You're glad he fits your ideal husband type. He is one of the more stronger gods, much stronger than you. Plus you feel protected when he's around.

Buddha does get peeved when you get flustered around other gods. As much as he thinks you're cute when you're flustered, he'd preferred if that was directed at him.

He is quick to notice how you politely refuse his snacks sometimes, and the way you seem so gloomy while looking at your hair.

Buddha walks in to see you looking at your waist and hair a visible frown on your face.

"I'm a freak with this hair and my appetite."

He immediately walks towards you and hugs you from behind. He tells you to never say that again. Buddha is now more attentive to your insecurities.

You both 100% lay on the grass under the tree and just have snacks.

He still loves you, even if you have more of an appetite than most.

[hijackalx]

ASTARION SFW HEADCANONS:

yall he would be so embarrassed by how vampires are portrayed in the media. like enraged 😭😭 he feels like they make him look like a joke and would refuse to watch/read anything with vampires in it bcz nobody ever gets it right. but if modern day tav DID ever get him to watch twilight with them he would be like shrinking into his shirt from secondhand embarrassment AT FIRST but i feel like he would eventually get invested LMAO like u know how dads stand in front of the tv and get stuck there bcz theyre too interested lol that kind of vibe

sooo hedonistic and materialistic like he loves all things luxurious, chocolates, expensive fabrics, comfortable furniture etc. he does NOT want to settle for anything less. but this also means he expects the same for tav 🥰 but he's kind of messy too? like it makes sense with being materialistic bcz eventually youll have lots of clutter. his tent has all kinds of unnecessary shit

hes lowkey sentimental. LOWKEY THOUGH he would never admit it. like if tav ever gave him something like idk, a necklace they found or something and said it made them think of him he'd literally keep it forever and ever. dont call him out on it tho bcz he'll get defensive af 😔 HES SUCH A BABY

tav and him will argue A LOT but thats because he purposely pushes ppls buttons. (nsfw mention) its like foreplay to him and if u read the nsfw section youll see why lol

so sooooo jealous but only if he feels like youre getting too close to someone else. like initially i dont think tav sleeping with someone else makes him jealous bcz of his backstory like he doesnt rlly view sex as something that only happens between two ppl that love each other and thats what would bother him the most. and i think hes only open sexually bcz hes conditioned himself to be that way, like maybe after a while of being with tav it really would start to bother him if they were sleeping with other ppl and he'd eventually want to be exclusive.

also he cares abt tav so much. like he pretends like he doesnt but if they freak him out enough theyll see just how much he worries abt them and wants them safe 😭❤️

love language:

giving = words of affirmation. he loves to call tav pet names and comment on how good they are at things and how good they look etc. he LOVESSS it especially if tav responds to it in any way (physically or verbally) bcz he also loves to tease lol. also dare i say physical touch? like just innocently touching tav all the time. this i feel bcz he (spoiler???) rlly enjoyed the hug during his confession scene and also wants to hold tav's hand after. (end of possible spoiler) like he'll prolly do little things like rub tav's back or caress their face randomly while theyre talking to him lol all very sensual tho hes a very sensual man

receiving = words of affirmation and physical touch lol both in the way i described before. i dont think he would like tav teasing him tho most of the time he gets genuinely pissed off 😹😹😹 hes just a lil short tempered

apparently hes 5'9 but i dont know where thats coming from lol i dont get that vibe he looks pretty lanky i would say between 5'11-6' is more realistic like lets be honest a 5'9 man lured back all those victims for cazador? be so fucking for real 😭😭 also decent muscle tone not scrawny but not SWOLE

ASTARION NSFW HEADCANONS:

lets go girls and gays 👯 for starters i dont really see him enjoying being submissive at all like u had to roll a 15 to even get the mf to say 'please'. i think this is especially because he hates having his autonomy taken away from him but he has a controlling personality in general (he was deciding ppls fates as a magistrate before cazador 🧍🏼like HELLO what the fuck was that 😹😹) . he likes to call the shots BUT i dont think hes selfish (kinda feel like hes a giver lowkey?? are we feeling the service dom allegations ??) he just withholds what tav likes until they do what he wants or theyre good for him. he always remembers to reward them tho 😇

he LOVES BRATS (hence the arguing mentioned before) !!!!!!! theyre his absolute favorite like theres something abt putting someone in their place that turns him on so much. theyre also so fun. he usually does it by being mean and degrading them tho lol. but once they submit to him hes so soo sweet. theyll also get bonus points for calling him something that implies hes above them (daddy, sir, master) but he wont make them. he prolly likes to see if he can make them do it voluntarily for an ego boost lol.

hes sadistic in the sense that he likes to “hurt” tav but not in extreme ways. he likes them too much for that. like he'll pull their hair and choke them (bite them) or something but he wont cause them horrific pain if u catch my drift. i still feel like hes into seeing them cry tho lol like if they go to him for a shoulder to cry on he'll try to act sympathetic but he'll also pop a boner HELP HES THE WORST

takes forever to cum like bro 🙄 I GOT RUG BURN ON MY PUSSY !!!! also has a very attractive pp probably 6-7 inches? like its textbook perfect. upwards curve. pink tip. shall i go on.

he wont do this to a one night stand but if he likes tav enough he'll want to mark or claim them in some way. like leaving bite marks and bruises EVERYWHERE or even cumming inside them.

also not as kinky as u would think like keep ur questionable kinks away from this man he will judge so hard. MAJOR kink shamer. in short no u cannot piss on him lmao leave peepaw alone

aftercare with him depends. at first its rlly cold and u get corny rehearsed lines and he cant wait to go sleep by himself 😭😭😭 BUT after he catches feelings hes very attentive and will help tav clean up. also will prefer to stay with them until morning.

[necros-writing-stuff]

AAAA thank you for the JayTim snippet, Necro!! 🥰 Poor Timmy, always feeling like the odd one out, even in his own family :( Good thing Jay is there to latch on to him when his brain demons start getting loud :) At the end when the other batclan members were looking wide-eyed over Tim’s neck scar and its originator in Tim’s lap, was that intended to be out of surprise/concern for Tim? 👀 If so, I loved that detail, one of my favorite genres of Tim-behavior is being convinced that he’s the cuckoo in the nest even when his family is showing (in their own weird freak way) that they love him :3

The look of surprise from the batfam contains multitudes.

Jason is seeking comfort from another, so whatever he's seeing in the toxin haze must be fucking rough.

Jason has in the past hurt Tim, so that initial reach for him was a tense moment of "Oh shit is the reaction to the toxin about to be violent?"

Tim is not awkwardly sat there with his hands up like a murder weapon just landed in his lap and he's trying not to get finger prints on it. No, Tim is readily accepting and providing affection here. For a guy they previously thought Tim hated.

With Tim being so independent so young due to (unintention or intentional, depends on your view of Jack and Janet) neglect, the space between him and the other batfam members doesn't raise as many eyebrows as it possibly could.

I mean, as he was learning to Robin, the runaway child (Dick) would come over and help out. He's the 3rd Robin. He could become a prior Robin (and indeed does) so it could just be seen as Tim always striving to become an independent adult one day just like Dick - who most people presume was his childhood Robin fixation, since he was the OG.

He also spent those formative years with Bruce "I try with communication but it comes out bad," Wayne.

So yeah, Tim is in a perfect spot to not have his imposter syndrome noticed, unless you yourself are an outsider and feel like you don't belong.

Someone like... hmmm... perhaps the kid who died and maybe came back different. Came back angry and prepared to get their hands bloody where everyone else believes that permanent solutions can't be the way. The other guy who pulls away, but this time everyone notices because he's explicit in his words and actions.

Also if Dick or Cass notice, Tim's in for a world of comfort and loving messages, and he'll hurl if he has to sit through that. Please just let it be Jason clapping him on the back and saying "Cheers man, I'll drink to that."

[eddywoww]

Ok a fic idea I’ve been stewing on for a while but am never actually going to write so I’m just gonna word vomit it here:

Eddie & Robbin bond over queer culture/ how hard it is being queer in Hawkins. Steve keeps trying to invite himself when they watch Rocky Horror or go to a gay club in Indianapolis. Robbin and Eddie think this is Steve just jealous that they’re hanging out without him so they keep saying “…no offense but this is really just a thing for gay people, it’s not for you cuz ~everything else~ is for you and this ~one thing~ is for us“. And Steve looks a little embarrassed and eventually stops asking, and they think Steve is finally getting some ally points™️.

But THEN a few months later they go to the gar bar again and Steve is already there, and at first they’re like “ugh I thought Steve understood how important gay safe spaces are to us” but then looking at his body language and where his eyes land… it doesn’t seem like he’s just observing? He starts chatting with the bartender who he definitely seems familiar with, and then he starts talking with a guy who approaches him and yeah, Steve is definitely not just observing. Steve and the guy start making out and Eddie and Robbin’s jaws are on the fucking floor at this point. The guy whispers something in Steve’s ear and leaves for the bathroom, Steve following a minute later.

Cue Eddie and Robbin having the most hushed freak-out session in the middle of the bar where they realize Steve’s attempts to join them might not have been Straight Steve™️ trying to butt his way into queer spaces, but Steve trying to figure out his own sexuality. And while Eddie and Robbin had each other the whole time, Steve had to figure out this shit all by himself. & it’s even worse for Eddie (who has had a low key crush on King Steve ever since high school) because he realizes he possibly could have had the opportunity to be Steve’s first for a lot of things, and instead he’s doing who-knows-what with some stranger (who. isn’t. Eddie.) in a seedy bathroom bar (never mind that’s very similar to how Eddie figured everything out himself a few years prior). But then he feels shit about even feeling angry/jealous in the first place because of how exclusionary they’ve been to Steve. So Robbin is panicking, Eddie is seething but trying super hard not to be, and suddenly Steve walks out of the bathroom, with a few more hickies than he came in with and looking, for lack of a better word, well fucked.

And then Steve looks to his right and they all make eye contact.

We love figuring yourself out 🥰 I think it sounds like a very funny cute idea !!!!

[notbeyondbirthday]

1, 2, and 21 for Beyond!

Hiii Isa!!! Thank you for the ask! 🥰

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

He has everything. Obsession. Vengeance. Trauma. He's doomed by the narrative. He's a freak. He's a fake. He's a funhouse mirror for the most beloved blorbo in this fandom. His very existence raises so many questions about L, the successors, Watari and Wammy's House and I'd go as far as to say his existence gives them all dimension. The destructive nature of Mello's rivalry with Near is the first implication we get that the existence of Wammy's House as an institution and by extension, Watari and L, may not be an unequivocally good thing after all. There are risks and consequences. Beyond Birthday takes that implication and makes it an observable fact and from there the possibilities are endless.

Death Note does not address Watari's motivations or ethics nor the ethics or efficacy of someone like L having the incredible unilateral power and influence that he does, which is a shame because it's such an interesting angle to approach the story from.

I have seen people say they don't like the addition of Wammy's House or dislike what the LABB adds to the story if you don't just handwave it as a spinoff. I get that. Wammy's House is about as unrealistic a concept as the existence of L himself so it can feel superfluous. For me, the LABB makes the mythos surrounding L more believable. Are we meant to believe all was well in the creation of this superhero figure? I can't, so the LABB makes sense in that regard...it represents the collateral damage of such an unrealistic endeavor. It's too much power and too large of a burden to rest on any single person. However, if you're invested in a particular characterization of L, Watari, the successors and their relationships or upbringing before reading the LABB (especially if those characterizations are on the wholesome side), the LABB might fly in the face of all that. (Though, if they went through with making Mello and Near L's KIDS instead I would've fucking hated that. He would NOT DO THAT.) Anyway, it is ultimately a spinoff so people are welcome to dismiss it on those grounds. If I'm being completely honest though, the LABB is what gives the successor side of the story the depth and stakes that make it truly compelling for me. I LOVE the successors in the main material but we just don't get enough of them! The LABB gives them more context even if I refuse to accept Mello's goofy ass narrative voice in the novel (I just don't think he talks like that, but. Hey. Maybe he does. Mello understanders weigh in!) Anyway sorry this got so long and off topic, my point is that I love everything about him but what I love most of all is that he's an entire story in and of himself. If he exists every character he's even tangentially related to gets another dimension, a fucked up dimension and I'm into that shit.

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

Beyond Birthday represents extremes to me. Obsession, imitation, competition - he takes everything farther than anyone else, too far, in pursuit of his goals. He wipes down his crime scenes to the lightbulb sockets. When he decides to challenge L, he's not even interested in living to see the fruits of his labor. His selfhood, his body, his life are reduced to tools he uses to undermine L, and he views Naomi Misora the same way. You can see this in how he speaks about her as Beyond Birthday, rather than Rue Ryuzaki:

I don't think this is just him underestimating Naomi, I think this is him being so obsessed with L and their 'game' that he reduces everyone and everything to their role in that construct. His victims and himself included. Besides that, we see an incredible amount of self-awareness here. He understands the impression he makes as Rue (a freak), he actively curates his mannerisms (down to his laugh) and flat out tells us how detached he is from his own ego when he says: "There are things I must do before B can surpass L." With this context it's not hard to understand how he successfully convinced the families of his victims to hire him to solve their murders. Rue Ryuzaki is just another piece in this game and arguably, so is B...and they can and will be changed and discarded as the game requires. We see the man rifle through an underwear drawer, crawl around the floor, and listen in on someone in the bathroom...there is no shame, no limit, nothing that deters him from his goal, even his own self-destruction. B truly is an extreme freak, even pretending to be an extreme freak to that extent makes him an extreme freak in and of itself, and that's my favorite canon thing about him.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Oh man, I LOVE writing dialogue for B...my characterization of him is dramatic and provocative and often verbose. He is here to get a reaction out of you, full stop. I think that's why I enjoy roleplaying with him, there is so much joy in forcing other writers to put up with him always trying to fuck with everyone. I love coming up with elaborate schemes for him to try and pull off for the same reason - the feeling of coming up with something so harebrained that even I wish Beyond would use his cleverness for something productive is so satisfying. Additionally, getting into his head and trying to untangle and express his...fucked up, often self-contradictory reasoning, thoughts and feelings without him ever willingly opening up about any of that is a fun challenge. As far as what I don't like...well, it's mostly self-inflicted but as fun as writing B is, I also feel a lot of pressure to get it right. B will want to take charge of any given situation or dynamic; he is fearless, capricious and extreme. There is not much if anything I would past him... so I often wonder if I'm going far enough. I never want my own limitations to get in his way and I think so much and so deeply about this fucker it sometimes feels like I'll never actually be able to properly express those ideas. For example, despite all of my ranting and pondering about B's inner world, in my one published fic, On Killing, Curiosity & Cats, it's mostly L's feelings and internal monologue I am explicit about (even though I am not at all an L expert). It felt easier, or perhaps safer, to show and imply things about B rather than state them outright. Writing him feels like a delicate balancing act, especially if I'm going to publish it! Sometimes Beyond Bitchboy just feels bigger than me.

character ask game

[theghostofashton]

Hi 🥰🥰 Hope I don't bother you, but apparently, it's a "thinking about you saw the truth in me" type of day 😅 so... if you wouldn't mind rambling a little - any future headcanons? Will they at all announce their relationship to the public or let the paparazzi sort of do it? If they get engaged, will they 'talk' about it or keep it a secret until the wedding, and TK'll just show up with a wedding band one day?😅 Will there be any red carpet event Carlos'd accompany him or have they agreed on TK going alone/with castmates only?

no joke this ask has made my entire day. talking about my fics is one of my most favorite things to do so thank you for giving me that opportunity! it means so much that you're still thinking about my fic <3

so, one of my original thoughts on how to end the story was actually going to be the red carpet of tk's movie. carlos would walk with him, as his plus one, but there wouldn't be any explicit attention drawn to carlos being his boyfriend or anything. i decided to go with the interview instead because i loved the idea of things coming full circle with tk finally getting to control his narrative, getting to have the last word.

tk wouldn't want to announce their relationship publicly, but it wouldn't be too much of a secret (because carlos is relatively known in hollywood as a trainer). tk would early on get asked questions in interviews, and he'd shoot them down quickly, until nancy finally put carlos on the list of things interviewers are banned from asking him about.

the final interview also reveals they've moved out of california, but doesn't say where, and that information would also be heavily guarded. tk finally takes gwyn's advice from years ago and involves a legal team that's ready to take action against any future defamation.

tk and marjan have a lot of conversations about the steps she takes to protect herself, the security she hires, the way she balances being open with her fans and sharing her life and keeping things private enough to keep her safe (mentally and physically). she helps him work on setting boundaries and shows him that it is possible to enjoy his life and see the world without things getting messy.

tk thoroughly freaks out before meeting carlos's parents for the first time, completely prepared for them to have already read everything that's been said and judge him. he works himself up so much about it (despite carlos's insistence that they would never) but everything melts away when andrea hugs him the moment he sees her. he's worried about what gabriel will say, but the first words out of his mouth are a compliment about the movie, and tk feels like he can breathe again after hearing that.

carlos does get mobbed once. he makes a trip to la with tk so they can visit tommy, charles, and the girls (and see paul, marjan, and mateo), and gets recognized while out on a run. it's nothing too wild, and nancy quickly sends in security to disperse the crowd. carlos is shaken, but physically unharmed. the whole incident freaks tk out a lot, and sends him down another spiral of wondering if it's fair to risk carlos's safety like this. he's quickly reassured that he is the most rewarding risk carlos has ever taken, in more ways than carlos can even tell him.

when they get engaged, it's also kept quiet. carlos proposes. tk wants to, but struggles with the thought of proposing forever with the knowledge of what his life is like. he wants to marry carlos more than anything, but he feels like in good conscience he can't ask for that, subject carlos to it. when he tells carlos this, he's reminded that they are a team and he doesn't get to make those decisions on his own anymore, and they finally do get engaged. and yes, tk doesn't say anything about it, he just starts wearing a ring for maximum chaos. (i can see him casually dropping 'husband' in an interview and freaking the internet out, but refusing to say more)

i think eventually, carlos would start accompanying him on red carpets, but it would be years in the future, possibly when they're engaged or married. carlos wants to do it much sooner, but tk isn't ready, and carlos knows not to push.

when they have a child, tk insists that it stay completely under lock and key. their baby girl grows up entirely protected from the spotlight for a few years, knowing her aunt marjan and uncle mateo as goofy grown-ups that skype her at the strangest hours (while they're off shooting) and always bring her the coolest goodies. seeing her uncle paul is her favorite, she loves when he lifts her into the air and does overhead presses with her. and aunt nancy is the funniest person she's ever met, she and her daddy have the silliest arguments, she loves when she comes over.

[girlsdads]

hello I can't believe I'm saying this but

how's the 🚽💦 fic coming along?

I was never a fan of watersports but this fandom been changing my view of life. and the snippets you post keep intriguing me. idk maybe it's just a need to see max get sexualy destroyed in every way possible. that man gives me cuteness aggression but horny. horny aggression??

anyways take care

omg hi!!!! always happy to bring someone over to the freak side 😈

it’s coming along slowly but surely…. i have ~4k written so far but there’s still so much i want to add so it will probably end up being closer to like 8-10k when i’m done which will be the longest thing i’ve ever posted (very on brand for me that i can apparently write for ages about pee 🫢). writing takes me a while bc of my busy work schedule and most days by the time i get home and have time my executive dysfunction takes over so i get out maybe a couple paragraphs at most 😩 but i’m chipping away!

i truly hope that it can be enjoyed by more than just pee-likers once i’m done, because yes there’s gonna be a fair amount of pee but also it’s really about maxiel being freaks for each other in the most tender and loving and beautiful way 🥰

[stonyponyofficial]

It's twilight on the winter solstice, and you're sat by your fire to stay warm. The snow is thick as mud as it sinks from the sky, forming a shell around your windows without a sound. It's peaceful tonight. The nights have grown quieter since the war between the orcs and the faeries ended, and in your warm, comfortable space, you feel positively serene.

And then there's a knock at your door. You can't help but jolt, your steady dusk silence rudely broken by a sharp, syncopated rapping. Who could possibly be out at this time, in this storm? And what did they want from you? You stand deliberately, shedding your quilt and tentatively making your way from the living area to the entrance. You glance curiously at the windows more than once, hardly realizing you're doing it. You see nothing but frozen snow.

As your hand reaches the door, you feel uneasy. The war may be over, but the tension in these lands was still as thick as the snow. Could this be a rogue soldier, passing through the town looking for mindless vengeance? No, they wouldn't likely knock. A confused returning soldier? As unpleasant as they could be, they likely didn't mean harm. Besides, you assured yourself, it was more likely someone you knew from town, unlucky to be stuck out in the cold. Better let them in, they could easily freeze out there. You draw a breath, and pull the door open.

You're greeted by the sight of a little freak, about two and a half feet tall and covered in dense brown fur. It looks up at you and cocks its head. You say nothing, shocked into silence. You've never seen a creature, living or dead, with quite the same awkward, bent shape, nor the large square head, nor the eyes like dark pools which this thing possesses. It's kind of cute, actually, in a weird way. And then it speaks. "Evening, miss, sorry to bother you. But I was just wondering if, uh..." it trails off. Baffled but undeniably curious, you prompt for more. "W-wondering what, now?"

The creature scratches its head. "Uhh..... spopify." It places an object at your feet and scampers off into the night, disappearing nearly instantly into the blankets of snow. You stare into the distance in disbelief, not fully convinced you saw anything in the first place. Your gaze snaps back towards the creature's object. It's a fucking

🎵

a 🎵? the memories weigh this 🎵 down in my hands as im reminded of the world before the war. you would give and receive several 🎵 a day back then! and now? you'd be lucky if anyone even knew what this 🎵 was.

"spopify" that freak said to me. i havent been asked to share spopify—swapping spoppies as my Nan would call it R.I.P.🥰—since i was much younger. it was a common way to connect with others through the language of music, but the war has sewn discord in the hearts of many and its no longer practiced today.

it's been so long since i've swapped spoppies with another... im sad that freak scampered away. it bestowed a gift greater than any ive received in years and just... scampers away. i wasn't even able to show my gratitude. nor could i bestow to it my tune of choice.

no matter! perchance, if i blast my tune loud enough it could escape the walls of my cozy cottage and reach that little fucking freak wherever it lies. i sure hope this works. this one's for u, little thing <3

i rig my fantasy music playing device up against the frosted windows. there's no way im getting them open, so i need the volume as loud as possible. i flip the levers and enter the passcode to allow me to set it to it's highest volume setting. i set my music library to shuffle and hit play

the bards bladee and ecco2k pump they're ethereal ballad through the land, their moans and falsetto piercing the thickness of the snow with ease. wherever this freak is, i hope it drains.

as for the lyrics which mean most to me from this ballad, as the tradition of spopify dictates i share, well they aren't a very lyrical bunch and especially so on this track. but we can still pick a little passage out!

befitting the ethereal and if im being honest sensual mood of this track ill pick out eccos first verse

"someone like me/someone like someone/like me/love me/touch me"

it does an interesting little switch there using 'like me' in someone like me and then using it again to bridge to 'like me/love me/touch me' that i just think is quite good! i like the things they do on this track quite a lot actually

oh how splendid it's been to swap spoppies once more :") the memories of those ive swapped with before. all their wonderful tunes. i begin to sob thinking how much a simple fucking🎵 could change people's ways.

i turn off my fantasy music playing device with a flick of several heavy steam-powering levers that hiss to a halt and begin to set to bed after what became a quite eventful night. im not even sure if that little creature heard my ballad, but im sure it's out in the world somewhere bringing joy to others as it has done for me. thank you, little freak, ill always remember u and how square your head was. <3

[acacia-may]

Seeing your lovely alternate universe headcanons for Vanessa x Finral inspired me to send in an ask for Langris x Finesse. Can I have 💖 and 🤍 for those two? Thank you!! 😊

Oh my gosh, friend! This ask is honestly a dream come true for me, ngl. I saw this come in and started squealing (and I clearly have no impulse control and was immediately inspired so it has been answered right away😅). Needless to say, I love this ship and never, ever get to talk about it, so thank you so much for this opportunity! I'm also glad to know I'm not the only one who likes them! 🥰

I’m going to include some ramblings about them, but please feel free to disregard and skip to the headcanons under the cut. 😁 On some level, I think I might have the strongest feelings about this ship out of all of the ships in what I would consider the "House Vaude drama cluster" and I've been working on a bingo ask about it for over a week now because I have so much to say. 😅 This pairing is just so, so good for both of them, I think, and say what you will about all of the drama (and emotional whiplash) going on with the Spatial Mage Brothers, but the one thing I am certain about in this entire House Vaude Soap Opera is that Langris loves Finesse.

Whether you want to qualify that love as platonic or romantic, it doesn't really matter (and it's possible that Langris himself doesn't even know how to qualify it), but the bottom line is that he loves her to the extent that he is willing to put her happiness and what is best for her over everything else. This man is literally willing to give up his hopes and dreams, what he has worked for his entire life, and, on a certain level, his entire sense of identity as this "perfect son" and heir to the House of Vaude on the chance that it would afford her the opportunity to be happy. His entire world comes crashing down in that moment when Finral declares war on him, but it takes him all of thirty seconds to decide that the most important thing to do in this situation is to go out of his way to make sure that Finral becomes a man who is worthy of Finesse and who can make her happy in a way that Langris (perceives that he) can't.

And for goodness sakes, he is engaged to the woman! It would be so easy for Langris to dig in his heels and just marry her out of spite for his brother or because (arguably) he likes her and wants to marry her, but he doesn't—even though they have been engaged for a long time (which if the social structure of the Clover Kingdom is actually a medieval society, is really, really bizarre and unusual). And I think it all comes down to the respect and the love he has for her. What he wants most of all is for Finesse to be happy, and secondary only to that, he wants to be wanted and loved by her. He doesn't want her to be with him just out of obligation--if they're going to marry, I really think he wants it to be because it's something they both want. Yes, their situation is complicated because there is the whole arranged marriage debacle, but I just can't imagine that Langris would want to marry her if he didn't think that was something that could make her happy. Otherwise, they would be married right now [and I wouldn't be up at 3:30 in the morning stressing about the relationship drama of fictional characters and whether or not Finral freaking Roulacase Vaude is going to go back to his abusive home at the end of this series but I digress…]

Anyway...I apologize for all of the ramblings (that's a lot more than you asked for and I am sorry for that 😅). I've put your headcanons below the cut (because they are lengthy), and I hope you like them! Thank you so much again for the ask! 🥰

Questions from this "Bye Bye Writer's Block" Ask Game

Langris Vaude x Finesse Calmreich Headcanons

💖 -- Alternate Universe

A/N: In a similar way to my Finral x Vanessa headcanons which you mentioned (I'm so glad you liked those too by the way. Thank you so much! 🥰), I have quite a few AUs about these two also. One of my favorites is an AU in which Finesse becomes Queen of the Clover Kingdom in the future and Langris is the prince consort (plus built-in 24-hour security detail given the fact that he is such a powerful Magic Knight in his own right). However, I think I will tell you about one of my other favorite AUs for them since I was thinking about it recently. There is a companion AU to my Vanessa x Finral Tangled AU which is Finesse x Langris as Beauty and the Beast with the Golden Dawn as all of the talking furniture. The two storylines are actually intertwined and going on concurrently in my head, so I hope you won't mind if I use this one here (I wouldn't have if you hadn't mentioned Vanessa and Finral in your ask, but still I'll only include the bits of their Rapunzel plotline that are relevant)...

In a Fairytale (Beauty & The Beast) AU...

The Vaude Family are the ruling monarchs of a faraway kingdom and live in a castle deep in the woods. Langris is their younger but far more successful son; however, he is cynical, practical, and somewhat cold. His more callous attitude upsets an enchantress who turns him into a hideous beast, his father and mother into a stapler and a paperweight, and his guards and servants (most of the Golden Dawn members) into various enchanted household items. Only Finral is spared because he is actually nice to the enchantress--though he believes he is cursed. Things quickly become tense at the castle because Finral was spared the fate of everyone else (and things weren't so great between the family to begin with), so he runs away from home and lives the life of a wannabe outlaw and miscreant.

Meanwhile, the beast legend grows, and the people of the neighboring kingdom under the rule of Augustus Kira Clover become particularly frightened. Prior to all of this, King Clover had agreed to form a diplomatic union with the Vaudes' kingdom by arranging a marriage between his niece, Finesse, and their future King, and now that there is this whole, dreadful beast business, he basically dumps his niece off at their doorstep as a "peace offering." Langris is absolutely disgusted by this display and tries his best to keep Finesse happy and comfortable given the horrible circumstances.

As they grow closer and develop a friendship with one another, the Golden Dawn furniture begins to hope that she and Langris will fall in love and break the spell before it becomes permanent. Towards the end of the enchantment’s limbo phase (before it becomes permanent), they plan a very special and romantic dinner with cake, fancy clothes, and ballroom dancing for Finesse and Langris, but their plans are swiftly thwarted when Finral, who as far as everyone knows Finesse always liked better than Langris, appears for the first time in literal years with the "Princess of the Forest of Witches" who really wants to see Castle Vaude's wine cellar for some reason.

Though David the wine glass tries to chase Finral out of the castle in exasperation, the damage is already done (so they think) as Finral had already reunited with Finesse (supposedly) rekindling the childhood love he had had for her before he had left home. Eventually, however, Langris suggests Finral take Princess Vanessa to see the annual Lantern Festival in the Clover Kingdom so he leaves to bring her there. The Golden Dawn's romantic evening plans resume, and Langris eventually dances with Finesse (after she practically begs him) as William Vangeance (a candlestick) sings a beautiful ballad that moves Alecdora Sandler (a clock) to tears.

Despite the magic of the evening, Langris can't shake the feeling that Finesse is unhappy. After they dance together, he takes her out onto the veranda to watch the floating lanterns in the distance, and he asks her if she would be happier if she didn't have to marry him and got to marry Finral instead. She doesn't answer, but she blushes which he takes as answer enough. He explains to her, as matter of factly as he can manage, that as he is only the second son, it is Finral who is actually supposed to inherit and, ultimately, is supposed to marry her. He, therefore, plans to step aside and allow his brother to take over the kingdom while he lives out the rest of his days in the woods as a beast. Finesse is perplexed but doesn't argue with him. The Golden Dawn is so hopeful that this sacrifice on Langris' part will break the spell, but unfortunately, only half of the criteria is met--Langris has learned to love but it isn't returned. (David bemoans the prospect of spending the rest of his life as a wine glass as the rest of the Golden Dawn furniture try not to despair).

After some drama with the Queen of Witches at the Lantern Festival which resulted in Vanessa being taken back home to the Forest of Witches, Finral returns back to Castle Vaude and takes over as the new heir, but quickly finds out he is unhappy in this life which had always been his dream. Finesse realizes this and encourages him to go follow his "new dream" and rescue Vanessa. Finesse herself then goes out into the woods to find Langris, but she is attacked by wolves.

Langris comes to her rescue but is seriously injured in the process. Finesse is shocked that Langris would do this, to which he replies that he would do anything for her. She asks why he went away and stepped aside for Finral in the first place, and he explains that he did it to make her happy, because he felt that he couldn't make her happy but Finral could. Finesse cries and insists that they could have been happy together, and with these expressions of their love for one another, Langris is magically healed, and the curse is broken restoring Langris, his parents, and the Golden Dawn back to their original human states. And they all live happily ever after! 💖

🤍-- Fluff

A/N: I couldn't decide so I'm going to give you three...

(1) While Langris for all intents and purposes expresses his love first, Finesse is the first to say the actual words, "I love you." She misinterprets Langris's shock and speechlessness as evidence that he doesn't return her affection and is struggling to let her down gently. When she begins to tell him that he doesn't have to say anything and they can just forget everything she said, Langris is just stunned. He asks, "Do you really...not know?" then chuckles lightly, incredulously mumbling, "And here I was so worried it was obvious..." Finesse is confused, but he looks into her eyes with such tenderness and says, "I've...always loved you."

That said, it is Langris (surprisingly enough) who initiates their first kiss. 💕

[A/N: I have a wip with a confession scene for this pairing written out actually, and I was very inspired by what I personally consider to be the greatest and most romantic love confession in the history of all literature. This ship just gives me those vibes].

(2) Since Langris didn’t really get to “propose” in the traditional sense (though I have no doubt that he did make sure she actually wanted to marry him), it is particularly important to him to give her a beautiful (and incredibly expensive) engagement ring. It is made of both gemstones from the House Vaude jewelry vault and also ones that Langris purchased himself with money he earned (kind of symbolising that though yes, this marriage is connected to his duties and responsibilities at House Vaude, sharing his life with her is something he is choosing and wants for himself).

In my mind, its main stone is a blue sapphire rather than a diamond (because they symbolism longevity and loyalty and I imagine those traits are incredibly important to Langris and really what he wants her to know that he is promising her when they do marry), but it has a diamond cushion as well (she is the King’s niece after all and even if she wasn’t, I can’t imagine Langris as anything other than the fiancé who is not going to spare any expense). It is a very elegant ring in my mind though not incredibly gaudy despite its size. Langris knows Finesse well-enough to know she doesn’t like to be the center of attention and would feel uncomfortable with a ring that could be seen from space. 😅 [A/N: It kind of looks like this in my mind]

(3) On more than one occasion Langris has personally tended to Finesse's garden when she was too ill to do so herself. She once wrote to him expressing her concerns that she hadn't been able to weed her garden recently due to illness, and the next thing she knew he was out there himself with his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants rolled up weeding and tending her beloved plants for her.

When they marry, Langris personally sees to it that Finesse's favorite plants are carefully moved to the gardens at House Vaude, and her part of the garden is their favorite place to have tea together or a picnic or to just spend the afternoon enjoying each other's company. They'll sometimes read out there as well, and eventually will play hide and seek with their children among the pretty flowers and plants. Langris also loves to bring Finesse her little bouquets of her favorite flowers from her garden when she is too ill to go outside or just as a fun surprise for her. It always means a lot to her. 🌸

[violetsiren90]

YOONS, MY DARLING FRIEND, YOU HAVE OUTDONE YOURSELF YET AGAIN.

First of all, it was my absolute pleasure and honor to act as a soundboard in any small way for the genius that is this story. Thank you for bringing me into your beautiful creative process, it was so incredibly fun for me. 🥰

Secondly, to anyone this may reach, I cannot recommend this story enough. The things Yoons does like an absolute certified pro:

World building: The club scene in this oneshot is an entire reality of its own. The vibes VIBE so incredibly richly, giving the events and interactions between characters a context with intoxicating and transportive ambiance.

Rapport between characters: Whether it's tension-building banter, or heartwarmingly affectionate ribbing, the dynamics between characters here is something that seems to predate our little peek into their world, making our witness of the intense developments between Tae and PG so incredibly delicious. 🤤💕

Literary rhetoric: I'm talking chewy, delectable alliteration, gorgeously layered analogies, foreshadowing and allusion that has you kicking and screaming - you know, the stuff that gets you Pulitzer Prizes and all that. Here. For for us. For free.

Lads, lasses, and non-binary sexy asses: THE MOTHER EFFING SMUT. I won't go into detail here beyond saying it's as moving as it is filthy, as prosy as it is sinful. This is erotic art. As heavy as I can possibly state on 'erotic'. 🥵🔥

Characterization: Taehyung, guys. He is so freaking in-character here that I was hiding behind my hands for most of my read, just trying to rein in my delulu to the point of retaining my sanity.

As always, this is beautiful story-telling wrapped up in a bow as BTS fan fiction, and I will continue to not understand how we get this lovely work for nothing more than the promise a of a few feeble words expressing our adoration for this work and its author.

You continue to amaze me, user orchidyoonkook. 💜

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with quickly shrinking fifteen feet between you two, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pour in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[sweetheartsaku]

SAKUUU CONGRATS ON 200 MY LOVE!! I say this to everybody, but I mean it more than any other time I've said it, you deserve every single one of those 200 and many, many more!! AAAAAH I'M SO SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!

you're such a genuine writer, and I could tell that the things you write are just so you, yk? 🙇🏻‍♀️ that's what makes you special over anyone and everything else!! from your short smau's to the tooth rotting sweetness of the headcanons you write, I've expressed my love for all of them because they're just so good?!?!?? AND because I could tell you're the one that wrote them and I mean that in the best way possible!! I feel like seeing the author through the pieces they write is such a genuine part of being a writer bc there's just something so real about it and idk how to explain it 😞😞 BUT WITH YOU AAAAAAH YOU'RE JUST THAT GREAT????

ANYWAY every time I see you interact with a follower or a moot by responding to their asks, just backs up my claim of you deserving the 200 and so much more ☝🏻 you're always so kind and sweet how could people NOT like you???? that's like impossible you guys c'mon now

you really are one of the best souls I've ever met on this planet and I could only hope that in my next life, or in another universe, if there is one, we know each other irl and we could spend every waking moment together</3 speaking of other lives, i really don't know what I could've done in my past life to deserve being friends with someone like you ☹️☹️ honestly I'd do anything and everything in the world just to return the kindness you've always treated me with ☹️

didn't mean to get too sappy there, woah LMAOZHAHAH BUT ANYWAY, I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU AND YOUR BLOG GROW EVEN MORE!!!! I'll be with you through every milestone, darling!! know that i love you soooo much, MWAH!!<33

FRANNNSSS FRANS FRANS FRANNSNSSNSN :((((((( UWEHHHHHHHHHHHH thankyu soososososoos much soulmate </3 you too 😭 deserve anything good thing ever imaginable😭YOI ARE SO SWEET I CNAT DO THSI

ackkk thank you frans!!!!!!!!! i do try to make my fics as genuine ands authentic as possible so seeing someone recognize that makes me feel all lovely inside D: !!!! AAAA mayb i should start writing more lil smaus habent done one of those in a while 🤔nd one of my first fics u found was my shu one... maybeHAHAHA!! AHHH why is the extremely popular crazy talented writer FRANS TALKING ERMMMMM how else do u rthink i found u 😓(UR AMAZING WRITING AND MOODBOARD DUHH) i will continue to do my best!!! and write!!!!!!! in the most REAL way ever done!!!!

ACKKKK YOURE TOO NICE MY SKIBIDI FRANS </3 im js being that version of me ykyk where i can be cringe and free and all of the above and im super hapi so many ppl like that side of me bc i feel so 😓 accepted!!😣.i lOVE U ALL SO MUCH GANG GANG

WHY TEH FREAK ARE. U TALKING RN FRANS. ur actually beyond the word best bc words cant describe how epic and cool and sweet u are😤i too, hope in every life, universe and everything in between that were out somewhere having the time of our lives!!!!!! YOU DONT NEED TO DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE PPL☹️ ESP ME.☹️ we are just girls in a world yk 😔✊we were js meant to be friends for real!!!NOW. I WOULD DO NYTHING TO BE ABLE TO SEND ALL UR LOVE BACK BC U DESERVE IT SO MUCH U SWEETHEART!!!!

its okkkk pookie to get sappy in here yk safe space 🥰💗I TOO AM EXCITED TO SEE WHERE LIFE AND THE TUMBLR ALGORITHM TAKE UOMG!!! WE'LL BE NEXT TO EACHOTHER THE ENTIRE TIME WOOOO!!!!!! thanku love, expect the same !!!!<33 I LOVE U SOOO MUCH

[forever-rogue]

Hello! If it’s okay to send in a request, could I possibly request a high school reunion fic with Eddie? Maybe him and the reader who danced around each other in high school but were too shy to confess use this is as their chance to shoot their shot?

AN | I’ve been thinking about something like this forever and you read my mind! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

How had fifteen years gone by already? It felt like it was just yesterday that you had graduated from Hawkins High and bid farewell to Hawkins, leaving for college and planning on never going back. But here you were again, back in your hometown, swarming with regrets of coming back. At least this time you knew you were only there for a few days before leaving again. Honestly, if you hadn’t had the option of staying with your cousin for your short visit, you might not have come at all. Even your parents had left once your younger brother had graduated from high school. 

There had been nothing for you in Hawkins while you were there. Well…nothing but the singular person that had caught your eye and kept you intrigued for all the years you’d known him. You wouldn’t even have considered him a friend…more of a crush that you never managed to shake. Eddie Munson had been magnetic and drawn you in like a moth to a flame. The problem was that you’d never spent any time together other than in classes, and the occasional run in around school or Hawkins. 

If you were being completely honest, one of the large reasons you agreed to come back for your little High School reunion was him. You couldn’t have cared less about anything and anyone else. Stupid? Yes. Foolish? Absolutely. Worthwhile? You sure fucking hoped so.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Alright, this was just as boring as you’d suspected it would be. The popular crowd had turned out to be the same ones that all married each other, had a handful kids, and stayed in Hawkins forever. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought. The people you could stand turned out to be perfectly average, having moved to cities nearby and working menial jobs with suburban families. It was the outcasts and the rejects, such as yourself, that had turned out to lead the most interesting lives of all. You’d already decided that you were going to leave in the morning. There was absolutely nothing left for you in Hawkins.

That was until you heard your name being called softly. You recognized that voice, you knew that voice - you were just surprised he knew your name. Turning on your heel, you came face to face with none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie fucking Munson was there standing there with a pretty smile on his handsome face. He looked just as good as the last time you’d seen on your graduation day, but had aged handsomely. His eyes were still big, soft and bambi-like, his hair more tamed but still long and wavy, but instead of his normal style from all those years ago, he was wearing well-fitting dress pants and a black button-up. Shit. 

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unable to find your voice as you gawked at him. You probably looked like an absolute fool, but how could you not? Your high school crush was standing right in front of you - and he still managed to steal your breath away. 

“You look lovely,” his voice was low and smooth and oh. It still made you feel some type of way, “that color looks amazing on you.”

“Eddie,” you managed to choke his name out and it just made him laugh softly, “wait - you know my name?”

“‘Course I do,” he cocked his head to the side as he looked at you curiously, “we spent years at school together, Hawkins is a small ass place, and besides - I’d never forget the name of my high school crush. Can’t say I’m surprised you know mine - being the freak had a way of doing that.”

“Crush?” you asked softly, cheeks warming up, but you knew that it wasn’t from the alcohol you’d been drinking. He looked at you as though he was trying to see if you were serious, “what do you mean crush?”

“Oh come on,” he gently nudged your side with his elbow, “you had to know, right? I thought it was so obvious. If I ever thought I’d have even the slightest of chances with you, I would have asked you out way back then.”

“No way,” you shook your head in disbelief, giggling wildly, a sound that went straight to his heart, “there was no way you had a crush on me!”

“Oh? Tell me why,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he offered you a lopsided little smirk, “sweetheart.”

“Because I had this huge crush on you, Eddie!” you put your hand on his chest as you laughed, a gesture that felt so natural, “how did you never know that I had one on you?”

“Really?” his pretty eyes widened before he was laughing too, his cheeks flushing a darker pink, “that’s just…wow. I guess we were both blind idiots.”

“Oh to be so young and stupid,” you sighed softly, before shrugging your shoulders lightly and finishing off the rest of your champagne, “if only we knew back then, huh? Wonder what things would have been like…”

“You totally would have said yes when I asked you out,” his smile was still magic, toothy and dimple displaying and made butterflies explode in your tummy, “and the rest would have been history.”

“So confident,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “but you’re right - I would have said yes.”

“Listen,” he looked around the room before waving his hand around, “this has just served as a reminder of why I hate Hawkins and left the moment I could. And I definitely want to leave this little…party. Do you wanna go and grab a bite to eat?”

“Fuck yes,” you agreed happily, taking any reason to leave and to spend time with Eddie, “please.”

“Come on princess,” he reached for your hand as he started to lead out of the ill decorated gymnasium, “let’s get out of here for good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You couldn’t believe you were sitting in a sticky old booth at Benny’s Diner at almost midnight across from Eddie Munson. What a funny twist of fate this night had proven to be. 

“No way,” you playfully tossed a fry at him, which hit his cheek and fell only to be quickly scooped up and popped into his mouth, “you’re seriously wanting me to believe that King Steve is like…your best friend?”

“He’s a good guy,” he insisted, grabbing his straw from the milkshake you were splitting and taking a long sip, “like a complete one-eighty from how he used to be. Trust me.”

“Alright,” you held up your hands in mock surrender before leaning back in your booth. You could feel his eyes intently trained on you, and the attention made you feel like screaming like a teenage girl, “I believe you. You said you got outta here as soon as possible too. Where’d you end up?”

“Indianapolis,” he shrugged as if to say it was no big time deal, but you shook your head in disbelief, “what? Is that a bad thing?”

“That’s where I live too, Eddie,” you grinned as he put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. You felt like he was dissecting you, learning you bit by little bit, “small world, isn’t it? I’m surprised we’ve never run into each other.”

“I’m guessing we still don’t run in the same crowd,” he stated simply as you raised an eyebrow. 

“And just what are you up to these days?” 

“I am actually a teacher,” he confessed and his whole face lit up, “high schoolers on top of it. I teach music classes, do some private lessons on the side, and still jam with the band on weekends. You’re giving me that look - I know that look. It means you’re either impressed or horrified.”

“I’m impressed,” you worried your bit lip between your teeth as you shook your head. Had you really not noticed that he spent as much time learning you as you had him? All of this felt like a wild fever dream, “and a fun story, I’m actually a teacher as well. Kindergarteners though. You have the hormonal demons, and I’ve got the baby demons in training.”

“You’re fucking kidding me!” he flopped back in his seat as he tried to process everything. The two of you had ended up apart and yet so similar. You shook your head and he groaned lightly, “now I really wish I’d had the balls to ask you out back then.”

“Yeah?” you drummed your fingers along the tabletop and bit the inside of your cheek, “what about now?”

“I still wish I had the balls to ask you out,” you were clearly both enjoying this little game, “wait - unless you’ve got a partner or something then I’m a huge dick.”

“I’m single,” you clarified and you could visibly see him relaxing, “relax, Eddie. I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you're single as well?”

“As a pringle,” he joked and you snorted with laughter at his silly joke. Eddie Munson really hadn’t changed, “and I like to think I’m not the type of guy that comes across as a douchebag that flirts with a beautiful woman if I’ve got a partner.”

“You don’t,” you admit, “but you know, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I don’t want to run into the boy - man - I had a crush on for so long only to have my hopes and dreams dashed again.”

“Baby, I’m more worried about you getting your hopes dashed when you realize how very lame I am,” his cheeks and neck flushed with pink as shrugged it off, “you probably already know that.”

“I’ve never once thought you were lame,” you leaned across the table so you could be closer to him, “I’ve always thought you were cool…it was me that was the lame one if anything. And I don’t think you’re lame now.”

“Flatterer,” he pretended to wave you off, “but just so you know flattery works on me.”

“Alright, well then, handsome, are you going to ask me out?” you could practically see him squirming under your praise. He swallowed the eager lump in his throat before nodding.

“Y-yeah - yes,” he stammered, “will you go out with me, like a real date, once we go back home?”

“Oh?” you played, “isn’t this a real date?”

“Do you want it to be?” his voice was barely audible as your smile became ethereal.

“I do.”

“Then, will you go out with me on another date once we get home?” you were nodding eagerly before he could even get his question out, “alright, well. That’s…good. Great. Just…wow. Gonna kill me baby, making my teenage - and adult - dreams come true.”

“That goes both ways,” you promised, before lowering your voice, “where are you staying? I was going to go home in the morning, but I’m staying at my cousin’s house and she’s gone tonight.”

“Oh,” he nodded like he understood but he clearly didn’t catch your drift. The little bit of innocence that he possessed made you like him just much more. After a few moments of silence realization dawned on him, “oh.”

“Do you wanna come back with me?” you suggest coyly as his eyes grow wide, “we could…have a drink.”

“A drink,” he repeated, a wolf’s grin stretching across his face, “I’d really like a drink.”

“Me too,” you reached into your wallet and tossed a number of bills onto the table, covering dinner and leaving a generous tip, “come on, Eddie. Let’s have a drink.”

“Baby, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me!”

[gilbirda]

So, I have an idea to contribute to the anger management brainrot:

I know how we all say that Jason's pit madness is just corrupted ectoplasem, BUT! hear me out, what if the pit madness is the result of his body coming back, and his spirit/soul being still (at least partially) trapped in the infinite realms?

Add a dash of Good BatDad!Bruce to this AU, and he tries to help Jason by doing a ritual to free Jason's soul from the ghost king. Only problem is, Batman CAN do magic, he's just generally very bad at it and too stubborn to admit it or call Zatana for help in most cases (Yes, this part is actually DC cannon) . So the ritual works- technically. Jason gets his soul back, but by obscure infinite realms law, he's now "bound to the ghost princess", which is a fancy way to say that Jason and Jazz are now betrothed.

But! Here's the real kicker: neither Jason nor Jazz have met yet. They both get "rashes" (actually marks symbolizing their union) on their ring fingers, and are frustrated that no amount of skincare will cure them. It can even start off with neither of them realizing that they're engaged. Jazz is just wildly confused when ghosts keep asking her when the wedding is, because she isn't even dating anyone, and hasn't really felt attraction to anyone since Johnny.

Jason, on the other hand, thinks he's been cursed. His liminality is flaring up with a vengeance. Randomly he's been passing through objects, turning invisible, all sorts of out of control ghost hijinks. He has his soul back, he just wants to move on and be with his family, make up for lost time. After Bruce losing more hours of sleep over research than should be humanly possible over research, they find out the truth. Jason is horrified. He thinks that whoever the "ghost princess" is, she must be a spooky monster.

The bats try to correct the situation, and immediately attempt to summon the ghost king. They beg and plead with him to remove the betrothal. Danny, being a little chaos gremlin says that he won't, his sister will have to decide for herself.

I loooooooooove funny arranged married shenanigans 🥰🥰🥰

Also I think it's hilarious if Bruce is the one that fuck things up because he doesn't want to call for help

At least after everything is said and done, and everyone can look back and laugh, he could joke that he is a matchmaker

Also I would love Danny being pissed off at being summoned, again, and this summon is so sloppy and shitty he expects some kids joking around and trying to be edgy-

and its freaking BATMAN?

and as they explain what's going on he starts laughing and he is like "im sorry, this is very serious, but my sister, the princess, can and will fuck you up for this"

-> cue everyone thinking this princess is as jacked and tall and eldritch as Danny

So Danny goes fetch her and batfam like "okay, game plan, once she is here he try to apologize and beg to not be smited-"

And then the princess arrives, she is a 7 feet tall Tired(tm) goddess that looks so pissed off-

And then she sees her betrothed

"hi"

I want to read this so baaaaad

Thanks for the ask! Love it a lot 💖💖

[zepskies]

Thank you so much, hun!! (And you're very welcome.) I'm so excited to dive into what you thought of how this closed out with Part 3. 🥰💓

Please don't apologize!! I love this kind of feedback, and this absolutely made my day. 🥹

YES!! You let him know, Dean-O. I know why he didn't but damn, if this isn't making me hot and steamy for Dean Winchester, I don't know what will.

Oh yeah, Dean held back for her sake, but he was fully prepared to take Carter out. 😬 And lollll I do not blame you!

We didn't see much of their relationship in the series, bits and pieces here and there. But I love this so much. Sam being close to his brother's girlfriend or even Dean being close to Eileen, just does things to my little heart. I love healthy relationships. But what I love most about this is that Sam loves my latina girl, because she is good for Dean. And Dean loves Eileen because she is good for Sam. And I am still mad that we didn't get more of this in the show. Missed opportunities, writers.

You know, now I do wish I had included more of the reader's dynamic with Sam as well. I implied it with glimpses here and there, like you said, but yeah I wanted to show exactly that -- that Sam loves her in large part because she's good for Dean and sees her as part of his family as well. I do wish we had gotten more of Dean interacting with Eileen on the show!!

EXACTLY!! You cannot tell me that after they raised the literal new GOD, that he wouldn't pop up to save Dean one last time. You're just gonna let a rebar, A REBAR, take the most feared hunter out! Jack would never!

Totally agree! I thought that was a major plot hole. Yeah he was "hands off," but you can't tell me Jack wouldn't be looking out for Sam and Dean, or wouldn't at least come if Sam called. And I feel you, hun. I was still so mad about the ending that I wrote this story! 😂

I know it's a big chunk, but this part made me cry so hard. I felt his desperation, the way he clung to her. Begging her to stay with him. My heart broke and for a minute, I thought this is it. This is the end.

This was the "Darkest Hour" for sure. 😭 It was important to me to get this moment right -- getting into the depths of Dean as he wrestles with the idea of losing her, and realizing he's ready to let himself have the life he's secretly wanted for years.

And Jack realized that this is his family, and he should help them. 💓

I'm so sorry for this long rant. But this is me saying I love that Fanfictions exist truly. Because writers on our favorite TV SHOWS tend to fuck it up, and more often than not destroys our beloved characters. So, truly thank you for this story.

Please don't apologize! I absolutely love hearing all of your thoughts on this. And I feel the same way. This is why I still write fanfiction, because these characters and this world matters, and it sometimes allows us to have the catharsis we didn't get from the show. So thank YOU for reading this story. 🥰💕💕

I truly didn't expect this when I suggested the idea of Dean finding and dealing with our curvy latina getting pregnant, but I'm glad I got this wonderful piece. And yes, I hope you go back to them from time to time. Because I truly love them two.

Haha I did consider going more comedic with the idea, or making it a surprise to both of them, and having Dean finding out as the center of the angst (him possibly freaking out/not being ready). But when I considered "what would make Dean finally stop hunting," I thought them purposefully setting down to start a family after 15x20 might also be just as satisfying. 💗

Oh I'm sure I will come back to these two soon! I've already got requests on Ao3 to write more Dad!Dean to follow this story, so we'll see! 😂 Again, thanks so much for supporting this series and letting me know what you thought. 💜💜

Dream With Me - Part 3

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: When your asshole ex-boyfriend calls for help on a case, you have a tough decision to make. But Dean isn’t going to let you do anything alone. AKA: The last hunt you, Sam, and Dean will ever go on together.

AN: I decided to release Part 3 a bit earlier! Now, *deep breaths* here we go, friends…

(If you missed it: Read Part 1 || Read Part 2)

Word Count: 4.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, and a tinge of spice.~

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 3: “What Is Deserved”

Dean’s heartbeat pounds in his ears.

By the time the four of you reach the Impala, you’re in a cold sweat, pale, and barely conscious. Dean unlocks the car and carefully seats you on one side of the backseat, while Sam hurries to the other side. He then helps guide you in as Dean maneuvers you into laying across the backseat. Sam’s going to stay with you for the ride to the hospital.

“Watch her head,” Dean warns, his tone sharp. 

“I got her,” Sam assures. He holds you securely against his chest, with your head tucked under his chin.

Dean lets out an unsteady breath. When he turns around, Carter’s standing too close, peering at you anxiously. 

“Get her to a hospital—” he starts to say, but Dean’s blood-stained fist cuts off his words, cracking against his jaw.

Dean put all his strength into that one.

Carter cries out and goes down hard into the earthy ground. He groans, huffing dead leaves out of his face as he tries to push himself back up. He hears the sound of a gun’s safety cocking back. He looks up sharply and finds the barrel of Dean’s silver Colt.

Carter freezes where he lies. He’s wary, but not surprised. He wipes a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth from where he bit the inside of his cheek.  

In that moment, Dean wrestles with a decision—with a desire that burns hot in his veins…but he knows you don’t have the time the spare, even for this.

“I’m gonna give you the biggest gift of your fucking life,” Dean growls. “Don’t let me see your face again, you hear me? Or it’s on sight.” 

His thumb moves the safety back into place, and he stows away the gun. He ignores the other man’s subtle breath of relief. In fact, Dean doesn’t glance back even once as he hastens to the driver’s seat of his car. 

The Impala speeds off, leaving Carter lying on a dusty ground in the middle of nowhere. 

Trees and asphalt pass in a blur as Dean speeds down the narrow road. He uses the GPS on his phone to find the nearest hospital, several miles away. 

Your skin is clammy. You realize it when you grab onto Sam’s arm that he has secured around you. You feel the cold sweat on your palm and between your fingers. Sam looks down at you while trying to hide his concern.

“Sam,” you whisper. It’s a struggle to get out the words, but you fight for them. “I know I don’t need to tell you to watch out for your brother, but…”

“Hey,” Sam says. His voice is just as quiet, so the rumble of the Impala hopefully masks it. He glances up and sees Dean’s determined face through the rearview mirror. His attention is on the road ahead.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Sam says to you, gently. “I know it hurts. Just hold on.”

You give a short nod, but tears still sting at your eyes. They wet your lashes and eventually slip down your cheeks. 

Your hand moves down to grab his.

“I love you,” you tell him.

Sam has become your brother too, in every way that counts. He knows it, just as he knows that you’re the sister he never thought he’d have. He squeezes your hand back and fights the emotions clogging his throat, making it tighten. 

“I love you too,” he says. “Just…just hold on.”

God knows you’re trying your best.

Getting you to the hospital is just the first challenge. 

Then it’s Dean having to let go of your hand, having to let the medical staff take you away from him on a gurney, rolling you down the hall and past a wall of doors he can’t follow. 

Dean stands in the middle of the Emergency Room hallway half-covered in your blood. He feels at a loss, in a way that reminds him of a day just like this. It reminds him of Lisa.

They were gunning for you. Of course, it’s your fucking fault.

Yeah, that’s familiar territory too. It reminds him of every reason he hesitated to start anything with you in the first place.

Dean’s jaw locks, teeth clenched, and there’s a well of unrest inside him that’s never going to be calm.

Then Sam is there at his side. He lays a supportive hand on Dean’s back and guides him towards the waiting room.

And it’s an incredible wait. 

Hours in the making, where Dean sits in an uncomfortable chair with a half-inch cushion after trying to clean himself up in the bathroom. He holds his head in his hands. 

He’s had more than a few what the fuck moments in his life, but this just doesn’t feel real. 

This time, there’s no Cas to swoop in and heal you. There’s no Rowena with a spell, and Jack…

Dean’s been praying ever since he carried you out of that barn, but Jack’s not answering. Dean frowns, and in his frustration, he grunts and pushes off his knees to stand. He begins to pace without truly realizing it. 

Sam watches his brother with both sympathy and pain. 

“They’re taking fucking forever,” Dean grouses. “We should’ve heard something by now. I’m gonna find somebody, get an update.”

Sam sighs. “Dean—”

But he knows it’s no use. He watches his brother go to flag down a nurse. She nods patiently, but Sam overhears her give Dean the same answer he heard the first two times he asked about you.

“The doctor will come down to update you once she’s out of surgery.” 

Dean’s frustration is visibly mounting when he paces back into the waiting room. Sam once again tries to give him a supportive word, but Dean just shakes his head and sinks heavily into the seat next to his brother.

He holds a fist over his mouth, for a long moment, just staring at a thin crack in the beige tile floor. Behind his eyes, the entire scene plays out again. Finding you in the barn, freeing you, thinking to himself that he could finally breathe, knowing he’d keep you safe. 

And then, the way you’d saved him, throwing yourself at that vampire. Dean fighting tooth and nail afterward, and still, finding you unable to raise yourself off the rusty metal blade lodged into your body. 

Dean’s face tightens grimly while he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. Sam’s heavy grip falls on his shoulder, squeezing in silent support and commiseration. Dean can’t really allow himself to be comforted. All he feels is a deep pit of turmoil. And guilt. 

“She didn’t, uh…she didn’t want this,” Dean says. He looks down at his hands now hanging in his lap.

Sam tilts his head, taking in a deep breath. “Carter tricked her. He knew what would get her out here, and us.”

Dean shakes his head. “No. I mean she didn’t want to do this anymore.”

He meets his brother’s now confused gaze.

“She wants to quit the life,” Dean says. “Been talking about…retiring. The house, the white fence, a friggin’ yard for the dog, the…the 2.5 kids. Apple Pie Central.”

Sam raises his brows, especially at the mention of kids. His lips twitch at the thought. He realizes then that he wants that for his brother. Even though the look on Dean’s face has Sam dimming.

“What did you say to that?” Sam asks. 

Dean’s sigh is heavy. He rubs between his eyes, at the mounting ache there. 

“I’m the Job, Sam. Clearly I’m only good at one fucking thing, and it’s slicing throats,” he says. “I couldn’t even protect her. Not with Chuck. And not now.”

Sam’s brows draw together, disheartened.

“Dean��”

“It’s true, Sam,” Dean replies. “And I’ve tried. I’ve tried that retirement shit before. You remember what happened there, right?”

Sam’s lips purse, and he shakes his head.

“It’s different now. Chuck is gone, Dean. We made that happen—”

He’s using your argument without knowing, almost verbatim. Somehow, it twists the knife deeper into Dean’s heart.

“And what about the rest of the monsters, huh?” he says hotly. “Do we just take a sabbatical on all the evil sons of bitches still left out there?”

“We’re not the only two hunters in the world, Dean,” Sam replies. “There’s always going to be another hunt, and another hunter to take it on. If you wanted to get out, I would understand.”

Dean looks at his brother harder then. He knows that Sam has been seeing Eileen more seriously for the past couple of months. After a snap of Jack’s fingers brought the world back to equilibrium, the two had found one another again. 

Dean starts to wonder if Sam has started thinking thoughts of retirement too—of a life beyond hunting.

“But besides all that,” Sam continues. He grips Dean’s shoulder. “You really think hunting is all there is to you?”

Dean’s gaze falls, again down to his empty hands. By now, he’s scrubbed them clean of your blood until his skin felt raw. 

He doesn’t have an answer for Sam, but he’ll be damned if he loses you like this. 

Dean gets up abruptly, somewhat startling his brother. 

“Need some coffee,” he says. 

Dean leaves Sam in the waiting room to find a relatively quiet hallway. It’s late at night. He’s dirty as hell and hasn’t eaten or slept in damn near a day. He’s running on stubborn will and determination as his fists clench at his sides. He lifts his gaze heavenward.

All right, Jack. I know you’re hearin’ me. I need your half-angelic ass, right now. She needs you. So can you please just—

Suddenly, a nurse passing by him in the hall freezes where she stands. Dean jolts a bit, but when he turns his head, he finds Jack Kline standing there, in the same clothes he wore when he ascended into heaven. Some khakis, an off-white shirt, and a jacket Sam bought for him. 

“Hello, Dean,” Jack says, with a slight smile. 

Dean is relieved, but he’s also angry. “Damn it, man. What took you so long?”

“I’ve been…busy,” Jack says cryptically. 

Dean doesn’t really give two shits where the supercharged Nephilim has been.

“Okay, well, we need your help. She needs your help,” Dean says, pointing towards the doors that lead to the operating room. 

Jack nods, his eyes lowering.

“I know, Dean,” he says. “She’s in the veil right now.” 

Dean’s heart clenches. His entire body stills. 

“What?” he says.

Though he knows what Jack is saying. Dean’s been “in the veil” once or twice himself. It’s that in-between place. That limbo-like plane of existence for human souls, between life and the afterlife.

“Fix her,” Dean growls. “Fix her right now.”

“I can’t,” Jack says. He looks apologetic, even in conflict with himself. “I told you, I’m hands-off.”

“Hands-off, my ass!” Dean snaps. “You have all the power in the world, and no good reason not to help her!”

“Dean,” Jack tries, but the other man makes a cutting motion with his hand. He draws closer to Jack with intimidating steps, even though the Nephilim has no reason to fear him. 

“Before you were…this,” Dean says, gesturing at his “godly” form, “you were family. Part of our family. And family’s what matters. Matter of fact, she looked out for you, protected you, treated you like a little brother.”

Jack’s gaze falls toward his feet.

“After all we’ve been through, after what she’s been through, she don’t deserve this. Not from you,” Dean says. “Help her.”

When Jack looks up again, his face is still apologetic.

“Dean, it’s the natural order—”

“Screw the natural fucking order!” Dean shouts, pointing at Jack. “And screw you. Another dickless fucking coward trying to play God.”

Jack sighs. He turns, as if about to leave. It makes Dean realize, with a tremor of panic, that he’s about to lose maybe the only chance he has to save you. He rushes forward and grabs Jack’s arm over his jacket. 

“Hey, wait, wait. Look, Jack. Please,” he implores. He doesn’t realize that his eyes are red, and starting to shine. “Please. Come on, man. I won’t ask you for anything else as long as I live, and I’ll swear by that. But you’ve gotta save her.”

Jack gives Dean one last look of sadness. 

And he disappears. 

The world returns to full speed, with the nurse passing by Dean with a mere glance at him. He stares at her in disbelief. He realizes that he’s alone in the hallway. 

His fury grows, and it grows. It burns hot in his blood. 

It bubbles over and has him punching a hole straight into the wall, white paint and plaster giving way. He yanks out his aching hand and storms back towards the waiting room. 

There, he finds Sam standing with a doctor, who wears a look that tells Dean to brace himself. 

Dean stares at your face. It’s still much paler than usual. You lie in a hospital bed heavily sedated, where you’re hooked to an IV and a couple of different monitors. The right side of your neck is heavily bandaged, and the blankets (and your hospital gown) cover the many stitches and bandages that span your right side. 

“We’ve given her several liters of blood,” the doctor had said. “I’m going to be honest with you, we nearly lost her on the table, twice. She’s in a very delicate state, but we will monitor her for the next few days. If she gets through tonight, we’ll know if she’s still able to fight.”

Dean doesn’t even dare sit on the edge of your bed. Instead, he dragged a chair over to sit beside you. He’s gone from holding your hand gently, to just sitting in silence with the tumultuous darkness of his inner world. 

Sam sits in the slightly more comfortable recliner seat in the corner. He flips through one of Rowena’s books in search of something that can help you, but he’s scanned the same page several times now. Neither of them has said a word for two hours. 

“You hungry?” Sam asks. 

Dean shakes his head. “No.”

Sam isn’t either. In fact, he’s been battling nausea all night. He just doesn’t know what else to do, for you, or his brother.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Dean says. It echoes the words he said to Jack. This time, they’re less heated, but no less filled with conviction.

Sam looks up from the book he’s not reading. Dean doesn’t look his way, but he knows he has his brother’s attention. Dean’s curled fist covers his mouth.

“She wanted out, and I said no,” he says.

Sam frowns, disheartened. “There’s…there’s still time, Dean.”

“She wants…kids,” Dean continues, almost as if Sam had never spoken. “She wants a family. Maybe to be the mom she didn’t get to have anywhere near long enough.”

Dean has always been able to relate to you there. He remembers the way you’ve talked about your mom, often with a lot of melancholy. But only now does he think he see the reasons why you want more. Only now does he realize what you were really asking from him when you talked about quitting the life.

“Yeah, she’d be a good mom,” Sam says, his lips almost forming a smile. Dean nods, but doesn’t reply. He’s thinking too much.

“And you, uh…you’d be a good dad,” Sam adds. He manages to smile at the thought. “You did it once for me. You can do it again.”

Dean tilts his head at that in consideration. It’s not that he doesn’t like kids. He does, and deep down, he’s always wanted the same things you do. This life had just pushed him to a point where he stopped allowing himself to dream.

Dean takes in a deep breath and tries to rub the exhaustion from his face. These thoughts don’t help him right now. They only torture him more.

An alarm suddenly trills, startling both Sam and Dean as their heads perk up. They scan your heart monitor, and it looks to be flagging from red to blue as the numbers fall lower and lower.   

Dean calls your name, but his movements are frantic in pressing the alarm button to call the nurses. Sam runs out of the room to actually find someone. Dean hears his voice shouting down the hall, but he’s too preoccupied with gripping your hand tight.

“Come on, baby. Fight,” he grits out. “I know you can beat this.”

His panic grows as he watches your heart rate fall lower, and lower. Tears finally sting at his eyes. His lips tremble. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Stay with me,” he says, rubbing your hand between both of his. He lowers down to rest a hand on your head, and he presses a kiss above your brow. “We’ll do it all, you understand me. I’ll build the damn cabin myself if I have to. Three bedrooms. Hell, make it five. We’ll get so damn busy, you’re gonna get sick of me.”

And if you were awake, you’d know exactly what kind of busy he’s talking about. You know him so well. Besides Sam, there’s no one else in the world left to know him like you do.

And your voice, your touch, the way you make him coffee with a double hit of espresso, the way you cook for him and Sam because you love to feed them. The way that, even when you’re fighting with Dean, frustrating him beyond belief, you never stop protecting him, as much as he tries to do for you.

You’re his, in every way. It scares him like hell, what he might become without you.

“Come on,” Dean begs, this time squeezing your hand. “Come on…”

Sam rushes back into the room. Footsteps are following him down the hall. 

And then, everything stops. 

Everything, except for Sam and Dean. 

Your monitors stop beeping out of control, freezing your heart rate where it sits far below where it should. 

When Dean looks up in teary confusion, Jack stands on the other side of your bed. He gives Dean a gentle smile. 

“You were right,” he says. “Family is what’s most important.”

Jack reaches out and gently touches your forehead. In a mere moment, you take in a deeper, more natural breath. Your eyes slide open and find Jack. It confuses you. Your mouth opens to say his name, but Dean squeezing your hand draws your attention. Your gaze softens.

“Dean?” you say.

He’s able to smile, even though his eyes are red, and a tear draws down his cheek. He hastens to wipe it away.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “How do you feel?”

Your brows furrow as you contemplate his question. “Fine, I…”

You remember then that you shouldn’t feel fine. You look up at Jack again, and as your memory of yesterday slowly returns to you, you realize then what he’s done. He hears the words you hold inside before you can say them out loud. He smiles.

You’re welcome, he replies in your mind. Then he gives Sam and Dean one last warm look. 

“Take care of each other,” Jack says. Then he disappears, without even a flash of light. He’s just gone. 

The world once again kicks into high gear. You’re forced to pretend to be asleep when two nurses flood into your room. Sam and Dean apologize for a false alarm when they see that your heart monitor and your other vitals are steady, and even stronger than before.  

When the nurses leave, you’re able to open your eyes and sit up normally. Sam comes to sit on your other side, and you reach for his hand while offering him a smile. Dean brushes your hair back to gently peel away the bandage on your neck.

Your skin is smooth underneath. Dean helps you do the same for the wrapping around your waist, after you peel back the covers and raise a corner of your hospital gown for him to see. Your wounds are completely gone. 

Dean huffs a breath of relief, his brows drawing together. You hold your hand to his cheek and give him a softer smile.

“I’m okay,” you promise him.

You wipe under his eye, where the tracks of his distress have remained. Dean wastes no more time. He gathers you into his arms and bows to claim your lips. You give him the comfort he needs, while melting into him with the same passion.

When he pulls away though, he has to wipe the tears from your eyes. The back of his hand brushes down your cheek.

“You scared the shit outta me,” he says.

You manage to stifle a laugh, but not your smile. “My bad.”

He steals another kiss, a bit softer this time.

“I love you,” he says. His voice is gruff, but no less genuine.

You let out a sigh, while more tears brim in your eyes.

“I love you too,” you nod.

While you soothe him with your fingers slipping through his hair, his lips press into your shoulder. He meets Sam’s teary smile with one of his own. 

You’re staying with him. That’s all that matters.

Six months later, the bedroom you once shared with Dean in the bunker is nearly empty. All that’s left are the nightstands, the old metal bed frame, and a bare mattress. Everything else is coming with you into the new place—a cabin-style house you and Dean found together in Lawrence.

Sam and Eileen have their own little place in the city as well, just a couple miles away.

It’s bittersweet to see this room in the bunker stripped bare, but you still smile as you survey it all with your arms crossed. 

Dean’s hands startle you when they smooth around the curve of your waist from behind. You jump a little, but you smile when he kisses your neck.  

“Reminiscing?” he asks, his eyes dancing. “Some damn good times here. Some damn good magic.”

You laugh at how he uses your words (and playfully slaps your ass), but you have to agree. You turn your head to kiss his cheek. 

“Just thinking about how we’re gonna make some more magic in the new place,” you tease. “We won’t have a sink in the bedroom anymore though.”

Dean nods at that, holding you more securely against his chest. 

“True. So convenient,” he says ruefully. 

You stroke his arms wrapped around you. You begin to tingle with nerves inside as an idea strikes you. It’s the perfect time… 

“I need to have a discussion with you,” you say. Dean’s smile grows against your neck. 

“A discussion, huh? Sounds serious,” he says. 

“It is,” you say. Though part of you is playful, you really are serious. You turn in his arms so he can see the gravity of your gaze.

Dean tilts his head, sensing your shift. 

“Hmm, okay,” he says.

You untangle yourself from his arms so you can lead him over to the bare mattress, where you sit him down. His hands slide down to your jean-clad thighs while yours fall on his shoulders. 

“Wait here,” you say. 

Dean quirks a brow, but he lets you walk away, over to your empty nightstand. You pull out something wrapped in tissue paper. 

You unwrap it and hold it up for his view. 

Dean’s eyes widen when he sees those two pink lines. He takes the little white stick from you and looks up at your face in pure shock and awe. 

“Holy shit,” he utters, making you laugh. He sets the little test aside so he can quickly grab your waist, once again pulling you in close. “You sure?”

“I’ve done it three times. I’m fairly certain,” you say with a smile. One that shines brighter with your burgeoning tears. You frame his face with your hands. “We did it, baby.”

After just about three months of trying, you’re already pregnant.

That reality sinks into Dean as he falls deeper into shock. You start to frown at his silence though. Your thumbs brush his stubbled cheeks.

“You’re, um…you’re happy, right?” you ask.

His gaze flicks up to yours. Seeing the uncertainty there breaks him out of his shock. His expression eases with a smile. He tugs you even closer by your hips, and he presses a kiss above your navel, over your shirt.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I am,” he replies, even as his deep voice breaks slightly on the last word.

Your smile grows, and you bend down for a searing kiss that Dean matches with all the emotions coursing through him; excitement, a tremor of anxiety, but mostly love. It’s nearly overwhelming in his chest, because he never thought he’d get to have this.

He’s damn grateful it’s with you.

He grips you tighter on reflex, and he brings you down onto the mattress so he can roll on top. He smirks in light of your giggling, brushing your hair out of your eyes and caressing your cheek.

He captures your lips for another heated kiss, one that grows into another, and a few more for good measure. Your hands slip down his back to squeeze his ass for once. His growing length finds friction through his jeans and between your legs, making him groan.

“How about we make sure it sticks,” he suggests between kisses. He trails them hot and wet down your neck. 

“I don’t think it works like that,” you breathe, though you smile as you slip your fingers through his hair. Dean smirks against your skin.

“Huh. Worth a shot, right?” he quips. He curls one of your thick thighs over his hip and rocks into you just enough to start driving you crazy. Already you feel his clothed erection pressing against your center. Your core begins to pulse in response, needing him.

You shove the layer of plaid off his shoulders, and he helps you with the undershirt as well. He starts to divest you of your layers, down to your bra, where he kisses a familiar path down between your breasts.

Just for a moment though, you hold his face and make sure he’s paying attention, despite your panting breaths mingling with his. 

“Thank you,” you say. “I didn’t think I would ever get to…”

Tears well up in your eyes again, and this time, Dean catches them when they fall. He shakes his head and brushes them away with his thumb. 

“That’s my line, baby,” he says. “Whatever’s up next, this is it. It’s you and me.”

He takes your left hand, which already holds the weight of a silver ring. His own holds one to match. You’re now officially his in every way.

Your smile already agrees with what he said.

It’s you and me.

But you also nod and guide his hand down to your belly. 

“Yeah,” you say. “It’s us.”

Dean hums in approval at that. A softer smile takes over his features, before he lowers down to your lips, so he can finish what he started.

You and Dean still don’t have all of the “retirement plan” mapped out just yet, but for now, this is a damn good start.

AN: I promised a happy ending, and this is the happiest I could think of! 💗 Hopefully this provides a smoother transition to the story In Bad Weather, though I'll never say no to coming back to these two. 😘

Let me know what you thought of this little ride in the Midnight Espresso-verse!~ ☕

Read From the Beginning:

Want to go back to the beginning of this series? Start with “Midnight Espresso”:

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.

▶️ First Story: Midnight Espresso

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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