#and even if u try to start moving earlier before he's gone

[rafecameronssl4t]

How about Pope/JJ having a crush on Topper’s younger sister which is also Rafe’s girl and him making sure he knows his place and the fact that she’s his girl. Maybe she’s the island sweetheart and she’s nice to everyone, and sometimes she hangs out with the pogues (despite her brother and boyfriend hating that) and Rafe noticed how the boy looks at her and decides to put on a little show to prove she’s his girl 🫣🥹

Get in losers, we’re going shopping || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

A/n: This was so fun to write thank u for the request 🫶

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, possesive/jealous!rafe, if there’s anything else lmk

Word count: 1,837

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board

As you drive along, a smile creeps across your face when you notice JJ and Pope walking on the side of the road. You slow your car, matching their pace, which causes them to exchange puzzled glances before coming to a halt.

Rolling down your window, you lift your sunglasses, locking eyes with the two boys. Their confusion quickly shifts to recognition, and a mix of surprise and curiosity spreads across their faces.

“Hey boys,” you greet them with a smile. “Oh—hey, y/n,” Pope stammers, making you giggle. “This your new car?” JJ asks, patting the sleek Porsche. You hum in response, “want a ride?” you offer sweetly.

The boys exchange a quick glance before sprinting to the passenger side, shoving each other. In the end, Pope manages to snag the seat, and you laugh at their antics.

“I’ll sugar momma you guys today,” you wink at them, moving the stick into gear. They grin widely, and you drive off, the engine purring smoothly. “So, where are we—” Pope starts, but he’s cut off by the sound of your phone ringing. Rafe’s name flashes on the display, and the boys visibly tense up, their smiles fading as discomfort sets in.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and caution. “Hi baby, whatcha doin’? Thought I might come over to yours in a few minutes, gotta see Top for something too” Rafe’s voice fills the car, a smooth and confident drawl.

“I’m out right now, and I won’t be home for a bit,” you reply, tapping your finger against the steering wheel. The boys sit in tense silence, trying to act nonchalant but clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. The cheerful energy from earlier is all but gone, replaced by a palpable tension that hangs in the air.

It’s silent on the other end before Rafe speaks up again. “Right, where—where are you right now? You with anyone?” he stutters, his tone shifting to one of suspicion. Pope’s eyes widen, and he freaks out. “I don’t think we should be here right now,” he mutters under his breath. Eyes wide, you slap a hand over his mouth. “Shut up, dude!” JJ whisper-yells, trying to keep his voice low. You throw JJ a look that clearly says he isn’t helping.

Hearing the voices, Rafe stands up from his seat, his eyebrows furrowed. “Who was that?” he questions sharply. You glance at the boys, feeling the weight of the situation.“Uh, I’m just with Pope and JJ,” you quietly admit, bracing yourself for Rafe’s reaction.

There’s a brief, tense silence on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear Rafe’s jaw clench. You know how your boyfriend feels about you hanging out with them, and the tension in the car thickens as you wait for his response.

“Are you serious right now? How many times have I told you I don’t want you hangin’ around with them?” He angrily says. You roll your eyes, already feeling the annoyance building. “Rafe, I’m not having this conversation with you right now, okay?” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“No. We’re having this conversation right now. Does Topper even know you’re hanging out with those Pogues?” Rafe snaps back, his tone leaving no room for argument. You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Pope and JJ, who look increasingly uncomfortable.

“Rafe, not right now. I’m hanging up, okay? Hanging up right now—” you begin, but Rafe interjects, “Don’t you dare—”Before he can finish his sentence, you press end call. The car falls into an uneasy silence as Pope and JJ sit there quietly, processing what just happened.

“Uhm, so that just happened,” Pope says, staring out at the road in front of him as you chuckle. “I’m so sorry you guys had to hear that,” You apologetically say, biting your bottom lip anxiously, “Nah, don’t even worry about it,” JJ reassures you as you smile at him through the rearview mirror. “Do you guys wanna get some gelato? I’m craving some right now,” You offer as you turn into the main road of Kildare.

~

Opening the door to your house, you pause for a moment as your eyes fall on Topper and Rafe lounging on the sofa. Topper is scrolling through his phone, barely glancing up at your entrance, while Rafe reclines with a smug look on his face.

“Where have you been?” Topper asks, his gaze still fixed on his phone. You hesitate, glancing at Rafe, whose smirk only deepens. “Uh, did Rafe not tell you?” you ask, your voice tinged with confusion since you for sure thought that he would tell your brother who shared the same disdain towards JJ and Pope.

Rafe raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s causing. “Tell him what?” he says innocently, leaning back further into the cushions. “Oh, nothing. I was just hanging out with my friends,” You say as you slip off your sandals, Topper giving you and Rafe a suspicious look.

“Yeah, okay. How’s your new car, by the way? Have you scratched it yet? Cause if you did, you know Mom and Dad will throw a fit,” Topper says casually, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. You roll your eyes, feeling the familiar sting of his passive-aggressiveness. Without responding, you turn to leave the room.

Rafe gets up from the sofa and follows behind you, his expression unreadable. “How does my little sister end up with a Porsche for her first car anyway? It’s fuckin’ unfair,” Topper’s voice jeered from the adjacent room, his tone laced with mockery. “Shut up, Topper!” you retorted, frustration seeping into your voice as Rafe let out a soft, amused snort.

“What are you doing here, by the way?” you ask Rafe who shuts your door behind him as you set your shopping bags down on the ground. “Can I not see my girlfriend?” he says with a playful smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he lounges comfortably on your bed.

You pause, studying his expression for any hint of underlying motive. “I just thought you wouldn’t wait for me after I told you who I was hanging out with,” you say cautiously, carefully avoiding mentioning JJ or Pope by name.

Rafe’s response is nonchalant, almost dismissive. He simply shrugs, as if your concerns are of little importance to him. “Don’t care,” he replies coolly, his tone betraying no trace of emotion. You lean against your window, raising an eyebrow at his nonchalance. “Really?” you say, not quite believing him.

He hums, his expression unchanged. “Yeah, really.” You slowly nod, still feeling a bit skeptical. “You coming to the party tonight, right?” Rafe speaks up, breaking the tension as you throw your new clothes into your hamper. “I didn’t even know there was a party tonight, but sure,” you shrug, before collapsing on top of Rafe, who exaggerates a loud groan in response, playfully protesting your weight.

~

Getting out of the car, you could already feel the curious stares people were giving your way as Topper and Rafe walked up behind you. The beach was buzzing with activity, and you took in the scene, noting the mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

Scanning the crowd, you quickly spot JJ and Pope hanging out with a few others near the bonfire. They notice you and wave enthusiastically. A smile spreads across your face as you lift your hand, ready to wave back, but before you can, Rafe grabs your hand firmly.

“C’mon, let’s get some drinks,” he mutters against your ear, his breath warm on your skin. His tone is casual, but the grip on your hand leaves little room for argument. You glance back at JJ and Pope, who are now watching the interaction closely, their expressions shifting to concern.

Reluctantly, you let Rafe guide you towards the makeshift bar set up on the sand. Topper falls into step beside you, his presence adding to the tension. “Here,” Rafe passes you a drink as you gratefully take it.

“What are you looking at?” you ask, staring at Rafe’s side profile. He turns to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pulls you closer. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he mutters, his tone trying to sound reassuring but tinged with irritation.

Following his earlier line of sight, you glance over and spot JJ and Pope. They’re laughing with a group of friends, seemingly unaware of Rafe’s intense gaze moments ago. Your stomach tightens as you realize he’s been watching them.

Rafe’s grip on you tightens ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature. You look back at him, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression is a mask of casual indifference. The contrast between his actions and his words leaves you feeling uneasy,

“Let’s go,” Rafe suddenly stands up, grabbing your hand abruptly, “What?” As soon as Rafe is standing up with you following along, you hear the whistles and low muttering of people. “Everyone shut the hell up!” Topper groans, watching his little sister and bestfriend walk off.

“Rafe, where are we going?” you ask, glancing back at the crowd, feeling the weight of their stares and the palpable tension in the air. “Shh, it’s fine, we’re just going back to your car,” Rafe says, pulling you closer. He leans in to kiss you, and you feel his smirk against your lips. His hands begin to wander, moving further down your back, his touch both familiar and possessive.

“Rafe,” you pull back slightly, your voice tinged with concern. “It’s fine, yeah? Please?” He looks at you with a familiar intensity, his eyes pleading yet commanding. It’s a look you know all too well, one that mixes affection with an undercurrent of control.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you unlock the car and gently push him before settling down on his lap. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close with an almost possessive firmness. You can feel the strength in his grip, the way he presses you against him, as if asserting his claim over you.

“You’re mine, y’know that, right?” he mutters against your neck, his breath warm and slightly ragged. “Mhm, I know that,” you mumble, your hands running through his hair. His fingers dig into your waist, drawing you even closer. His scent, a mix of cologne and the salty sea air, envelops you, creating an intoxicating mix of comfort and confinement.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing him better access to your neck as he continues to murmur possessive reassurances.

~

“Y/n?” You lift your head just as you finish zipping up your shorts. “Hey—” The greeting dies on your lips when you find yourself face to face with JJ. “What are you doing here?” you ask, awkwardly chuckling and smoothing down your hair. The sound of Rafe exiting the car behind you adds to the tension.

JJ’s eyes trace your appearance before flicking behind you to Rafe. “We were just about to, uh, leave,” he says, scratching his head. You nod awkwardly. “Hey, Y/n,” Pope greets as he joins the scene, sensing the uncomfortable vibe. You manage a smile at him. “Hi—” you start, but your words falter as Rafe steps up beside you, still buttoning his shirt. JJ and Pope stand there awkwardly, waiting, while Rafe ignores their presence.

“Did you guys have fun?” you ask, attempting to lighten the mood. Rafe finally looks up, a smirk playing on his lips as he glances at the boys. “Yeah, yeah, it was fun, I guess,” Pope replies hesitantly. JJ’s pained smile shifts between you and Rafe. “You guys sure did, huh?”

Rafe snorts at JJ’s comment, prompting you to slap his chest lightly. There was awkward silence before you speak up, “Did you guys want a lift back?” you offer.

Before they can respond, Rafe interjects, “Baby, you’ve had a few drinks already. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”JJ rolls his eyes at Rafe. “It’s fine, we’ll find our own way home,” Pope says, his smile tinged with sadness. You nod slowly.

“Yeah, you do that,” Rafe says dismissively, pulling you back towards the group. “Come on, babe.” You glance back at JJ and Pope one last time, mouthing a silent apology as they briefly wave goodbye. The expressions on their faces stay with you—a mix of disappointment and hurt that you can’t shake off.

[lovetei]

turning back from sheep to human form and being around the brothers would make me so happy bc I'd have a human throat (lololol the wording-) again~ 🥴😵 seriously what if reader turns back having them down their throat is the only think the brother can think or that reader can think. Oh Wooo! I'm dizzy. I'm so sorry I'm terrible. I'm going to the horny jail.

The fact that this is what I've been thinking all day is crazy-

And the amount of requests I'm getting for this certain scenario is also crazy.

At this point this might just turn into a series T-T

And yeah, I'm back :)))

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Sheep!MC turned back into their human form meaning they have their human throat again

Warnings: Smut, blowing work, slight public blow work, overstimulation, grammar errors, spelling errors, no proofreading

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

Similar Posts: Their reaction to Sheep MC changing into their human form at the end of the exchange program, Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them

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LUCIFER:

The atmosphere inside the office of the mighty Lucifer changed drastically

All he can remember is that he's scolding you

And now you're on your knees as his hips bucked into your mouth mercilessly

"That... That's what you get for answering back." He managed to pant out as his grip on your tightened before he pushed your head closer to his hips, pushing his cock deeper to your throat.

Your eyes shot open as tears streamed down your face "Mim swo-rryy!~" You said after he slightly pulled his dick out of your mouth to let you breath.

A mixture of his cum and your saliva dripped from your mouth to the floor together with your tears as you put your hand between your legs like how he told you, like how obedient dogs are told to.

MAMMON:

The private room of a casino is filled with joyful laughter as Mammon and his colleagues play another round

He's been winning for ten times in a row now

His luck might just be today! Or it might just be under the table.

Another round of poker just started and the joyful laughter that once filled the room is now gone as it is replaced with a tense and eerily quite atmosphere.

Is it really quite though? I think not, considering how lewd slurping sound and satisfied groans leave both of your mouths "Good, good treasure." His voice turned deep and husky as he laid his hand on top of your head.

He continuously patted your hair while subtly guiding you into moving it up and down "Swallow it all now~" His cheeky voice ordered before he pulled your head away from his cock by your hair.

He put his finger in your mouth and forced it open, putting your tongue between his fingers "Very good!~" He praised like you're just a dumb human... His dumb human.

LEVIATHAN:

Everyone that passed Levi's room can just sigh out of pure disgust and dissapointment.

"He's watching that stupid 2D porn again is he?" Is all they can think as they heard loud moans coming from his room.

He won't deny that he's watching that 2D porn, but instead deny their guess that those moans are coming from the computer though.

"U-Ugh!~" He moaned shamefully as he held on his gaming chair for his dear life as he felt his cock touch the back of your throat again "S-Stop doing t-that!" He tried to seem domineering.

His attempt failed miserably though after you did not listen and pushed his cock even more deeper causing him scream pathetically "S-SHIT SHIT SHIT! FUCK U-Ugh! Wa-it! T-Tired, I'm tired!" He begged.

With another lick on his cock, thick white strings of cum shoot out of his dick again before he fell back to his chair, panting. "Wow, wow, wow! Let's try this one now!" You suggested before your hand touched his second dick that has been leaking pre since earlier.

His hands trembled as he tried to grab your wrist and pull it away "N-Nooo!~" He whined out but once again, it fell into deaf ears.

SATAN:

He loved reading books with you

The quite and romantic atmosphere that surrounds the two of you is just ethereal in his point of view.

Although, this session is strangely different from those romantic ones.

He's breathing is weird and erratic as his trembling hands turned over another page "A-And so- t-the army of t-the opposing- A-AH SHIT WAIT NO!" His knees buckled as he released for the nth time.

His upper body collapsed on his desk but you kept his lower body standing by gripping his waist even though his knees has obviously lost all its strength "You're... You're abusing your throat- WAIT WAIT WAIT!"

Before he can even finish his rant you pushed his cock in your mouth once again, going on a fast and brutal pace while he's left on top of his desk completely stupid.

ASMODEUS:

He loves you so much, maybe just as much as he loves himself

Maybe even more and he doesn't even know how that's possible.

But the fact that you're happy that you got your realy body back just makes him happy too.

He tucked a stray hair to the back of your ear as he realesed a contented sigh "What a smart way to test if you're throat is still working properly~" He teased as he slightly bucked his hips up and down similar to your pace.

You just ignored his comment and decided to get back into work "U-Uh~ My beautiful love~" He praised as he continuously stroked your hair.

A soft groan escaped his throat as he squirmed before looking down at you and smirking "Open wide now..." He ordered as his finger caressed your lips.

BEELZEBUB:

Wow, congratulations MC! You can finally eat normally again!

It must've hard for you all this time not being able to eat properly, if he were ever in your situation he would've lost his mind!

But nevermind that, you can finally eat properly again! Whether it may be food or him

He leaned back as deep groans and low moans escaped his lips "Thank you MC..." Is all he can say as you struggled to take his full length in your mouth.

You have taken large dicks before, but it's nothing compared to his considering how you struggled to take even his tip.

But he shall not worry as you will let your body pay for what your mouth can't do.

BELPHEGOR:

He's such a lazy fucker

He doesn't even want to feed himself but it's understandable as he's the avatar of sloth

But feeding you is a different case

You lay comfortably bellow him as his hips bucked in and out of your mouth "Ah, ah ah! One more please..!" His hips shook erratically as he experienced another orgasm.

His body almost collapsed but managed to grab the headboard as he lazily used your mouth as a fleshlight "P-Please... Help me..!" He begged wanting to experience another high.

All you can do is slightly nod before you grabbed his hips and flip him over, now your positions are reversed "You're already turning dumb and you still want another one? How slutty." You commented.

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

[sunnebeam]

flashback: when you first met.

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' EXTRA.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, blood

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: in case u didn't know, i'm still currently on my aug-oct vacation (see details in pinned post!) and this post was scheduled in advance :> anyways this flashback is really short (mostly bc i was running out of time when writing it) but i hope u still enjoy it. as always, leave ur thoughts <3

You're walking home, having just got off the bus.

There's a spring in your step, mainly because you just had a job interview a few hours earlier and you think you got it in the bag. You're thinking about dropping by the convenience store for some celebratory food when you hear a strangled noise from the nearby alley.

Against your better judgment, you follow the noise, only to find a bloodied, battered man, with a scar across his right eye, slumping against the wall. His shirt is torn and his tattoos peek out from the fabric, but what was once a white shirt is now stained with red from his wounds.

"Oh my god," you exclaim, your hands coming out to cover your opened mouth.

"Go away," the man grunts.

"Sir, you need to get to the hospital," you tell him, walking closer. "You're injured—"

He scoffs. "You should've seen the other guys."

You ignore his comment and move to sling his arm around your neck.

"What are you doing, woman?" he growls, resisting when you try to lift him up. "I told you to go away."

"And I told you, you need to go to the hospital," you scold him, finally managing to get him to his feet.

He tries resisting again but you poke his wounded side. It does the trick and he groans in pain, having no choice but to follow you because he can't do anything else.

The walk proves to be a struggle, but in the end, you manage to get him to your apartment after he argued with you and insisted he can't show his face in a hospital.

("The hospital's on enemy turf. I can't go there.")

The pain must be too much for him because he passes out as soon as he reaches your couch and he pretty much stays asleep while you treat his wounds as best as you can.

You leave a glass of water and some painkillers on the coffee table near your couch for when he wakes up, before you move to your bedroom to the do your night routine and finally get some sleep.

By the next morning, he's gone.

He's a strange man, you realize. Always talking in cryptic words, strange tones, and poetic sentences. But you naturally start to forget about him as the days go on.

Until one day.

You arrive at work, having been accepted at the corporate job you had an interview with, to find a gigantic arrangement of flowers on your desk. There's no card, so you chalk it up to a random admirer, and go about your day.

But it doesn't stop with the flowers.

Throughout the rest of the week, you receive an assortment of gifts. From expensive chocolates, designer clothes, and even an engraved kitchen knife.

And what surprises you is that the kitchen knife, of all things, provides the most answers because there's a card. It doesn't contain a message but there is a single name written.

Yoongi.

You blink.

Who the fuck is Yoongi?!

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[keeksandgigz]

ugh maybe something angsty to fluffy with eddie , like nightmares or a silly argument turned too big leaving both in tears but then resolved

idk baby ugh i love ur writing tho !

aww stop i love u <3

this is literally my first ask ever im so excited!! hope u enjoy :)))

He knows better than to fall asleep.

The world lays still around him, the sound of lone crickets plays as his lullaby while he stares at his banged up ceiling.

Everytime he closes his eyes he feels like he's suffocating, still in the stuffy, dusty and slimy Upside Down, the blood at his throat almost choking him to death.

It's his first night alone back home. Him and Wayne had been cleared to go back earlier that September morning after spending a whole summer in a cramped infirmary on a small cot that made his feet stick out.

Noises of people snoring, talking, moving around. Even people crying and screaming in their sleep. You sleeping in the cot right next to him.

Your shoulders rising and falling. On nights where he couldn't sleep he'd count every breath you took, until his brain grew tired and fell victim to slumber.

But tonight there was just eerie quiet. No breaths to count except his own, shallow and irregular in his chest, as he tried not to focus too much on the way the skin of his naked chest stretched taut by the stitches given to him felt under his hand, casually resting there.

The faint white and red splotches of mangled skin felt funny under the touch of his hands. Even then, he tried to not touch them. He didn't like the way his body would retract from his own touch. Almost as if he was scared of himself.

He hadn't let you see them yet, everytime you hung out and reveled in each other's company never went further than a few risky kisses. Your hands traveling to the hem of his shirt being abruptly stopped by his fingers intertwined in yours, moving away from his waist.

It was silent, the way you understood his limits. He'd never let you know he wasn't comfortable, and you could not have possibly known what lied under the too- big shirt he'd taken from the donation box.

Tonight, though, he finds himself missing counting your breaths, imagining you back at home in the comfort of your bed. Are you awake too?

Sick and tired of thinking, closing his eyes only to see monsters behind his lids, the feeling of the crumpled, rough sheets under his back, he gets up. He slips a shirt on, along with a pair of pants and fishes a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pockets of his jacket, perched carelessly on the chair.

He heads to the front porch. He closes the front door behind him, trying to keep quiet. Wayne's at work, but the habit of tiptoeing and whispering around after months of living in a communal space still stuck with him.

He sits on the stairs of his porch, letting the cigarette between his lips as he fights with the yellow lighter his dad had given him to start a spark.

"Fuck" he curses under his breath as the lighter proceeds to not produce a light. His breathing becomes uneven as his cheeks flush with anger. Frustrated, he tosses the lighter in the patch of grass in front of him. Useless fucking thing.

He doesn't even know why he still has it. The last time he'd seen his dad was over two years before. He'd never gone that long without a visit.

He's tempted to go in the kitchen and light up his cigarette with the stove, but Wayne didn't like him smoking inside. Instead he just sits there, unlit cigarette between his lips as he looks at a certain spot in the trailer park.

The same spot he'd almost died at.

He's so entranced by that one patch of dirt that he doesn't notice a car driving into the trailer park. His eyes diverting only when the headlights almost turn him blind.

It's you.

The car turns off and you come out of it, dressed in some cute pyjamas, a jacket that once belonged to Eddie covering you from the late September gale.

"Can't sleep either?" you say, staring at his dumbfounded face as you approach him on the wooden porch stairs.

"Too quiet. Missin' the old man who talked about cake in his sleep" he lets out a breathy laugh.

"My bed was too comfortable. My back is too fucked up from the cot, can't sleep on a soft mattress anymore. Missed having a bed next to yours, Munson" you nudge him, he just gives you a tight- lipped smile.

"Missed watching you breathe" he says, cautiously "Helped me sleep at night. I'd count every breath you took"

"Having any nightmares?" you ask, placing your head on his shoulder.

"Can't have nightmares if I'm awake. Everytime I close my eyes it's like I'm back in there, so I just.... don't sleep" he says, playing with the still unlit cigarette in his mouth.

The air is light between you two, an air of friendship, unweighted by your knowledge of what happened to him. You bring him relief, solace.

"Tell you what" you begin "you can light that cigarette with my car lighter, we split it, and then we go back inside and you can watch me breathe. So you can sleep" you blink up at him. He blinks at you back.

You offering to sleep with him in his bed wasn't something he'd have expected out of his life. Especially at this time of it.

All he does is nod as you take the cigarette from his lips and light it in your car, coming back with it already between your lips.

You're warm when you settle yourself next to him on the bed, under the rough blankets. The pillows smell like him. You inhale.

He doesn't know whether to hold you or leave you alone. He just opts to be a little closer to you as he lets you close your eyes. A weak "G'night, Munson" escapes you as you exhale and close your eyes.

He watches the silhouette of your shoulders rise and fall.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven...

He falls asleep before he can get to fifty.

[mitsuas-coffee-shop]

𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎: 04/16/2024 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎: Hotcakes with strawberry jam 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚃𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙻 (𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝): $726

You don't really know what got into you this morning as soon as your eyes laid on the clock signaling two hours before getting to your work place. You really don't know why you got up with a sudden need to cook... But what exactly did you want to cook?

You looked through your mini recipe book you always kept safe on your phone's notes.

Something salty? An omelette? Fruit? A smoothie? Strawberry smoothie?! You were close, your mouth drooling at the thought of every dish you got remember, but still couldn't find the perfect one.

"Hotcakes! Got it!" You whisper-shouted glad to finally know what you've been secretly craving for, careful to do not wake up your partner, who had told you last night has had a rough week. So now that's finally his day off, you could make a little treat for the both of you.

You put on your apron and started taking the ingredients as fast and as silently you could, getting everything done an hour later.

Now the last detail was the missing topping, the strawberry mermalade.

Maybe you got too engrossed making the hotcakes you didn't notice the last ingredient to satisfy your appetite was missing on your refrigerator.

"Crap..." You searched everywhere, forgetting about having to keep the volume as low as possible, waking your spouse on the process.

Just as he arouse from his sleep, the smell of something delicious creeped up on his nosetrills, fading any annoyance he might have had from someone interrumpting his resting time.

As he was about to get up and greet you, he heard the front door close in a hurry, well—more like shut.

He got to the dining room and saw the table was impeccable; two plates, cutlery, glasses filled with milk and on the center, a couple of hotcakes piles all fluffy and smooth looking.

A smile came to form on his face, thinking how marvelous and skilled you might have seemed like when cooking this, for the both of you, which was something that made his heart warm up even more.

He decided to look further around since he knew you couldn't have gone to work just yet, something might have been missing for everything to be perfect, which was something he's come to know and love about you. Wanting to get everything as best as you could was always inspiring for him.

There was a small container, matching with the tableware set up, it was the only thing left on the bar which divided the kitchen from the dining room, empty.

He thought you were missing the maple syrup.

After some thinking on how you could react to him knowing about your surprise and getting bummed about it, he chose to try and sleep a bit more while waiting for you and act as if he knew nothing once you woke him by yourself.

Minutes passed and like the giddy little child he felt like when waiting for a present he knew was coming, he finally heard the door opening and a relieved sigh scaping you.

He had to put on the best act now! He could not fail!

"Hey honey-Wake up, breakfast's ready" he heard now closer to him, a hand shaking slightly his shoulder.

He had to pretend he had not been awake before you arrived from your emergency drive for ingredients, but the way he got up quickly from the bed didn't convince you much. Still, you didn't give it more importance and led him to your suprise.

"Wow! Are these for us?!" He exclaimed maybe a little to excited and made such excessive moves with his hands you couldn't believe him anymore.

"You got up earlier right?" You asked, seemingly not sad but a little disappointed with yourself for not getting everything right on the first try.

"U-Uhm-n-no?" He tried once more, but his nervousness by your piercing gaze now fixated on discovering his lies made him obvious.

"O-Ok ok! maybe... But I swear I had a similar reaction to this one! I-I loved it sweetheart!" Now he got closer to embrace you.

All his and your concern dissolved as fast as the delectable and comforting hotcakes in your mouths, along the strawberry mermalade you explained you had to grab to make it worth it, you spent a lovely morning with your other half.

𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑;

BNHA ๋ ࣭ ⭑ Izuku Midoriya, Kirishima Eijiro, Denki Kaminari, Sero Hanta, Togata Mirio, Takami Keigo HQ! ๋ ࣭ ⭑ Hinata Shouyo, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Ryonusuke Tanaka, Yu Nishinoya, Daichi Sawamura, Koshi Sugawara, Asahi Asumane, Ittetsu Takeda Gakuen Babysitters ๋ ࣭ ⭑Ryuuchi Kashima Obey me! ๋ ࣭ ⭑Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon

˚ ༘ ೀ ⋆ ｡˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ ⋆ ｡˚ +1 hotcakes with strawberry jam

All writings rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua's Coffee Shop. (Credit to the respective owners of the pictures and tagged anime characters.)

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (Part 16)

tw: literally Yves watching ur every move, super suffocating stuff, Yandere shenanigans

Yeah ok u guys decided to lust for the creep, then the creep u shall receive

after this chapter i mean

Part 17

You told him your opinion on Montgomery.

"I see." He replied. Yves deadpanned at you before pulling you in for another kiss on the lips. Your face and the tips of your ears heat up, you're still not used to this yet.

He pulled away and chuckled at your bashfulness. Trying to cover your burning face with your hands is futile, as it only makes him tease you more.

__

"Call me if you need to go somewhere. I'm available for you any time." He slung the straps of his handbag around his shoulder, and Yves prepared his car keys in his hand.

You told him 'okay' as you're rubbing the last of his lipstick marks off using a piece of wet wipe.

He stroked your head, traced his fingertips down your jaw and finally held your chin. He tilted your head upwards and gave you a forehead kiss.

You whinged as you now have to wipe off one last print. He bid you goodbye before closing and locking the front door behind him.

Soon after, you dashed back into your room trying to escape your housemates hollering.

Days would go on like this: Yves breaks into your house using the spare key, scare the shit out of you when you open the door to see him standing there, receive adequate kisses, eat (br)lunch, talk for hours, landlord comes over to fix more stuff, eat dinner and finally, at around midnight- sometimes later, Yves would leave.

You would go to sleep almost immediately, but definitely looking forward to the next day.

He started coming in earlier and earlier, working on his things during times where you had nothing to say. You asked him about his work, he tried explaining it to you but you zoned out. It's so boring and complicated. Full of numbers, charts and graphs, you couldn't care less.

Needless to say, he cooked all your meals and did all your chores for you. You always protested, because it isn't his job and you should be responsible for taking out the trash or keeping yourself alive.

Yves would simply ignore you and do them anyway. If you're particularly worried, he assures you that it's some sort of a hobby of his to take good care of you. If you insist that he stops, he will guilt you; making you think that you're unnecessarily taking away part of his joy in this relationship when it isn't even harming you. So you just let him do what he wants, and you benefit from it greatly.

You really like him. He lets you take a nap on his lap while he types away at your desk, Yves listens to you ramble about your interests and occasionally adds his own fascinating commentary to it. You were astonished to know he has a whole database of random fandom trivia in his head. He washed your sheets and made your bed for you every morning.

He lets you hog his portable fan to yourself. But eventually, his bargaining powers lead to your landlord installing a ceiling air conditioner in your room. The best part? No rise in rent.

Yves gradually introduced you to a solid skincare routine. It started off with a simple face cleanser and moisturizer. Then he added toner to the regime. Then a weekly exfoliation and bi-weekly usage of sheet masks. It was hard for you to remember to do it or have the motivation, but Yves didn't mind maintaining your skin.

You just love the tingles you felt when he reclined you on your chair and he massages your face with the moisturizer. His fingers skillfully work to unravel you.

He made your house actually enjoyable to live in. You haven't gone out in three weeks and that didn't alarm you. You are glowing, physically fitter than ever, clean and most importantly, happy.

You have the drive to do so many things. Like learning a new language, learning to code, learning to knit or crochet, learning to draw... anything you wanted to do, Yves is always the expert to consult. He would buy the materials you need and teach you step by step. It made sense for him to be an extraordinary mentor, because you found out that he was also an exemplary lecturer at your university at one point.

You confirmed that he's currently a researcher, specifically, a research mathematician who works together with other branches of academia including but not limited to human Psychology, biology and sociology. The gist of his project has to do with predictive algorithms and probabilities. It's impressive and complicated, too bad you're not interested beyond what was described in a nutshell.

It's no secret that you look up to him, seeing that you're also a student looking to advance their education.

But it begs the question of his age. He has done so much in a short span of time. You wonder what his true age is.

But it's almost impossible to know because he would be offended whenever his age is brought up. It seems like he despised being perceived as ancient, which you understand. He probably comes from a time where youth is overly worshipped. You let it go, it isn't like his age affects you in any way.

It doesn't mean you didn't try searching him up. At first you suspected that he was lying because you couldn't find anything about him working at your university on the internet. But you sent an email to the administration asking about him. They came back with the confirmation that Yves is currently a hired researcher there. Strange that they knew who he is without knowing his last name. You guess there's only one Yves in the entirety of his faculty.

Speaking of names, you were shocked to find out that Yves didn't have a last name. After tons of relentless teasing from Yves for wanting to know his surname and a platitude of shame-induced face coverings later, you finally discovered he doesn't have one. This was bizarre to you, but Yves only told you off for being insensitive towards him, as not everyone has the privilege of a last name. It seems like a touchy subject, better not bring it up again.

Although it has been around a month since you think you first met Yves, you can safely say that you're madly in love with him. He is way more attentive and caring of you than anyone you ever met. Not even your parents or guardians can compare. Absolutely no one in your life has treated you this well.

There is that nagging feeling that something is very wrong. It wasn't a "He is going to leave you for someone better" feeling, it was more of a "what if Yves is secretly an organ harvester and he's healing you up to make a good price on the black market?"

But due to blind love, you forced yourself to brush it off as some implausible, impossible, silly thought.

...is it though? Yves does give off uncanny vibes sometimes no matter how suave and sexy he is. He has a lot of things to hide and the knowledge that you have of him is not enough to save you if he ever decides to steal a kidney or two.

Maybe this relationship isn't good for you. It keeps giving you inner turmoil to lose sleep over. This is definitely too good to be true, no one likes being a full time babysitter for their partner; this has to be a trap! You think you should quickly break it off with Yves before it gets too--

You were interrupted from your thoughts when you felt the chilly air from the air conditioner nip at your skin. The bliss of not being boiled alive by your own fluid trickles down your forehead.

You close your eyes and grin, letting the wind blow on your sweaty hair. This is lovely, you're so grateful to have Yves in your life. If you didn't have him here, you wouldn't be able to enjoy this temperate luxury.

Yves lets his focused gaze linger on your form for a few more seconds before replacing the remote back onto the holder. Yves pressed the button on his stopwatch, the beep was soft enough to go unnoticed.

He checked the temperature, the time and the humidity of your bedroom before logging them all into his computer. Yves turned his head to look at your position on the floor, you're splayed out like a rag as gusts of cold air strike your body.

He opened another file, which is the floorplan of this house. His eyes scanned the screen, noting down the exact coordinates of your precise location.

It would always be like this. You would start formulating thoughts and suspicions on Yves, spiral so much that you contemplated ending everything to protect yourself, then something interrupts your mind and eradicating the unwanted ideas entirely. Be it a change in temperature, texture, hunger or thirst. Sometimes, it's because you feel you hit your Yves-interaction/social quota for the day. So he would excuse himself and leave your house until you recovered.

He always comes back at the perfect time. Just right when you're starting to yearn for him. Yves ensures he never leaves for too long to make you think he's neglecting you. But he wouldn't come back too soon to make you go "yuck, this bitch's face again?"

Your signs could be as minuscule as a lower lip twitch, a brief, split-second movement of the eye, flaring of nostrils, positioning of your arms or even a change in the depth or rhythm of your breathing.

Or it could be an increase in heart rate, body temperature or sweat beading from your pores. Hell, it could even be the sound of you swallowing your spit or the smell of irritation.

They are all telltale signs that you're about to do or think about something undesirable due to overwhelm or underwhelm.

It's scary. He could just detect it with his superhuman senses. But ignorance is bliss, you still didn't know that he's puppeteering your environment accordingly. He would very much like to keep it that way.

Yves must admit, he has been careless. For the past three weeks, he failed to consider that his daily presence is wearing you down. It was his own fault for disregarding his calculations, Yves was originally only supposed to see you four times a week; that was the most optimal arrangement.

But he was enamoured, as desperate and feverish as you to be together. He just hides it impeccably well. Could you blame him, though? This was the first time you acknowledged him, the first time Yves got to kiss, touch, and hug you as freely as he wanted. The first time he gets to observe past the use of cameras- he does not need to hide. He gets to put his elaborate meal plans to use, you're eating his cooking, he's washing your clothes and you're accepting his backrubs. This is the closest so far to the ideal he wanted in his life with you. Anyone would be greedy in his situation.

But he flew too close to the sun like Icarus did. The wax melted off his wings and now he has to face the consequences that would have been avoided if only he had controlled himself better.

He's starting to notice you're not as positively receptive to his kisses as before. Sometimes even outright grimacing and shuddering in disgust when you think he's not looking. You spent a couple minutes longer in the bathroom, sometimes up to an hour, claiming you had stomach issues. But you didn't have problems with your digestion, your boyfriend made sure of that. He meticulously checks everything that goes into your mouth and he knows you didn't even pull your pants down. All you did was sit in the corner and scroll on your phone.

You did it just to escape from Yves and he's fully aware of that.

It devastated him when he went through your internet history:

Yves removed his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He checked the timestamps, and you accessed the web since three in the morning.

"Why are my boyfriend's kisses and hugs gross to me now"

"Clingy boyfriend"

"How to tell my boyfriend to stop being clingy without hurting his feelings"

"How to say no to hugs"

"How to say no to hugs and kisses"

"How to say no"

"How to stop people pleasing"

"How to tell people that i dont want to see them but not forever just for a few days"

"Social battery"

"Therapists near me"

"Therapy price"

"is University counseling free"

"university counseling wait times"

"How to break up with my boyfriend"

"Is it rude to break up over text"

"Script for breaking up"

"Nice script for breaking up"

"Kind script for breaking up"

"Breaking up without hurting his feelings script"

"ChatGPT"

"Do retired lecturers have a habit of checking for plagiarism in their day to day life"

"Is AI generated content plagiarism"

"Jobs near me"

He knows he has no one but himself to blame. He had a plan all laid out, if he followed it to a Tee, it would have conditioned you to ultimately accept his intense love without complaints. He was supposed to give you a maximum of one kiss on the lips and four others somewhere else on your face. But gave you a whopping average of 76 kisses a day, 20 of which are on the lips; 1520% of the actual daily cap on kisses.

Likewise, he hugged you too much. Yves was only supposed to give you 12 hugs, lasting 8 seconds each at most, spaced throughout the day. However, you're in his arms for a total of 6 hours a day; 2250% of the maximum.

He is the first thing you see in the morning and the last face you perceive before sleeping, From before sunrise to past beyond sundown, you would be exposed to him; from 6am to 12am the next day; he would already be in your room before you're even awake. Subconsciously, you know he's there because the brain never stops working.

Of course, you would be sick of him! It doesn't matter if you came from an affectionate family or you turned out severely touch-starved, with extreme figures like these, anyone would be nauseated with his presence by the third week!

Yves fought back the urge to run the numbers back the fifth time. The cold hard facts are there, he made a grave mistake. Painstakingly recalculating everything is just a pathetic attempt to appease his denial that he lost control over himself.

He sighed and propped his head up by an elbow, absentmindedly fiddling on his calculator. Yves's eyes flitted up to the monitor. You're curled up into a ball on your bed, scrolling on your phone. Most likely to try and catch up with your own me-time. Yves could see pixels of bags forming under your eyes.

He shook his head and decided he must rectify this. Yves got up from his seat and sauntered out of his office, switching the lights off but leaving his surveillance equipment on.

Meanwhile, you yawned, closing your eyes and letting your phone slip next to you. Finally but reluctantly drifting off to sleep.

[harringtonswriting]

slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving with rooster because he is SO a holding hands while driving kinda guy i know it in my heart and soul. thank u so much my dear bree!!! <33

Kait my love!! god you are SO right and you should say it louder bc rooster is absolutely a holding hands while driving guy <3 i feel like he just loves skin to skin contact you know? always gotta be holding his love <3 i am so sorry it took so long, but i hope you like it!

...

Sometimes, on the hard days, Bradley will ask you to drive around with him in the Bronco. He never has a destination in mind, just wanting to spend some time with the windows down and the radio on as the two of you drive aimlessly around Fightertown, or along the coast, or even into the city. Wherever the wind and the roads might take him. There was one time the two of you had ended up in Long Beach because you’d accidentally fallen asleep and Bradley had decided to follow the coastline until you woke up. You’d had a good time, of course, once you’d woken up, but that was the furthest you’d ever gone when he needed to work the next morning.

Bradley never tells you what causes the hard days, at least not right away, but you know today is a particularly bad one when he’s completely silent as he comes through the front door. Normally he tries to at least make some noise, banging his boots against the front mat or dropping his bag on the floor to make sure you knew he was there. But the complete silence, even with opening and closing the door, means today is a particularly rough one.

You’re worried, of course you’re worried, but you give him some space and let him come to you. You’ve learned during the time you’ve been dating him that trying to confront him before he’s ready–even if you’re not confronting him you know Bradley will still most likely see it that way–never ends well for either of you. So you listen to him head from the front door to the kitchen, and then up the stairs, and then the sounds of doors being open and shut.

Bradley’s changed into a t-shirt and jeans as he walks into the living room where you’re lounging on the couch, ones you’d washed earlier that day and laid out on your bed for him to change into after work. His aviators are tucked against the collar of his shirt, and he’s got two sweatshirts in his hand as he comes over to press a kiss to the top of your head. It lingers longer than normal, and you reach a hand up to cup his cheek before he moves away.

“Come for a drive with me?” he asks, voice even and lacking his normal warmth. You nod, getting up off the couch and taking the sweatshirts from him as the two of you gather your things and head out the door to the Bronco. Bradley peels out of the driveway almost as soon as your seatbelt clicks into place, slipping his sunglasses on and turning the radio on with the volume down low as he starts to drive.

His right hand is resting on the gear shift, fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm against the kitschy eight ball that he’d told you Natasha had given him as a joke once upon a time. You don’t mention how twitchy his hands are or the hard set of his jaw, but you do rest your hand on top of his where it’s palming the gear shift.

Bradley’s fingers stop tapping almost immediately, the muscles relaxing under your hand.

I’m here. I love you. It’s okay.

You don’t say the words out loud, but as you swipe your thumb along the back of his hand, you let your actions speak for you. You interlock your fingers with his but leave them where they are. Feeling the warmth of his larger, calloused hand holding yours is calming for you, and you hope it is for him right now. He normally finds any excuse he can to hold your hand in his, though normally he liked when he could hold your hand and press it to your thigh–he never even tried to be subtle about it.

But tonight, it’s more for his comfort than it is his love of your body. Bradley brings your entwined hands up to his mouth, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss to the back of your hand. His mustache scratches against your skin, but the sensation is a welcome one, a familiar comfort. It’s his answer, without words, letting you know he’s grateful you’re here. He squeezes once, twice, three times in succession, lingering kisses on each knuckle as he keeps his eyes on the road.

Bradley will talk when he’s ready. Maybe that’ll be in a few hours; maybe it won’t be for a few days. But you’re glad you’re here with him, that you’re in his Bronco with the windows rolled down and the evening air blowing cool across your skin, existing with Bradley through the good and the bad. You’ll always be here for him, and by the way he’s moved your hand to cradle it to his chest as best he can, you’re sure he knows it, too.

[jjonglemons]

CLAWS MASTERLIST | all my works can be found here

CLAWS

Chapter 4: Returned

Summary: when you started attending hogwarts university, you didn’t expect to immediately fit in with a group of guys who call themselves ‘ateez’. it’s only natural that as you grow closer, someone falls in love, becomes an enemy, and unravels the drama.

WC: 3.2k

Tags: nothing really, this is a pretty relaxed chapter - just some suggestive speech

You awoke to the sweet sound of birds chirping outside of the windows, a soft breeze crinkling the leaves as it grazed over. You don’t remember when you and Wooyoung moved upstairs to his room from the couch, your mind being distracted from the previous evening’s drama and the two of you making love. Wooyoung’s arm was lying across your chest as his nose nuzzled into your neck. Carefully, you reached your free arm over to retrieve your phone that was lying on his nightstand. You saw Yunho had messaged you, mentally facepalming yourself for forgetting to text him like you said you would. Not only that, but you also began to feel guilty about sleeping with Wooyoung, remembering that just hours before you and Yunho had agreed to give yourselves a try. Sighing, you ran your fingers through your hair.

Yu: hey, en! didn’t hear from u, assuming you got tied up in ur evening - hope ur doing okay, i look forward to seeing you thursday <3

You: sorry, yu, a lot happened and it slipped my mind. i am okay <3 talk soon xoxo

Wooyoung stirred beside you, a cat-like cry escaping from his lips as he shifted his position. You smiled, taking in how cute and carefree he looked when he was asleep. You wanted to stay there longer, just admiring him and cuddling, but when your ringer started blasting, that hope died quickly. I swore I turned that off, you groaned silently. Wooyoung shot up frantically as Yeosang’s name flashed across the screen.

“What the hell?” Wooyoung whined, groggily rubbing his eyes as you answered the call.

“Where are you? Class starts in five!” Yeosang yelled in a whisper. 

You pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment to check the time. You weren’t paying attention when you had messaged Yunho earlier. “Shit,” you muttered, “I didn’t realise I overslept, I’m on my way.”

“You better get here quickly, En,” He warned, “you know how Professor Newton is,” then hung up the phone.

You jumped up, putting your clothes back on quickly. Wooyoung was whining your name from the bed, watching you as you checked yourself in the mirror.

“You should just skip,” he said, “and stay with me for the day.”

You turned and looked at him, giving him a small smile. “As amazing as that sounds, this class is very important to me.”

He nodded, not saying anything else. While you were situating yourself, you were thinking about how exactly to get to class in a timely manner. Obviously five minutes was impossible, but the quickest way…

“Could you teleport me to class, please?” You begged, walking over to Wooyoung.

“Is this why we had sex?” He joked, “to get a free ride to class?”

“What? No, Woo, I- ugh!" you slapped his shoulder playfully, “please just help me.”

“I’m not even dressed.”

“Woo,” you whined, “you can be so quick and stay in your pyjamas. No one will notice.”

He sighed, slowly standing up to his feet from the bed. “Alright.” He grabbed your hand, and in the matter of seconds you were standing outside of the classroom and Wooyoung was gone. 

Professor Newton simply grunted as you entered and took your seat, continuing from where he left off. 

“What were you doing?” Yeosang asked you quietly, “you’re never late for potions and you’re wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Didn’t you go straight home?”

“Just… a lot happened, as you know.” You responded.

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “He never came home last night. Jongho.” Your stomach sank from hearing those words. Truthfully, you thought that would be the case. But you hoped that, maybe, your hunch would be wrong. “Mingi’s been trying to get through to him all morning, but it’s no use.”

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, your mind clouded with worries and ideas on how to find him. You felt angry, scared, confused, and a million other emotions all at once. 

“En, what are you doing?” Yeosang asked. You were so caught up in your feelings that you didn’t realise you had stood up from your chair, pushing the desk away from you loudly in the process. The entire class’ eyes were on you. 

Feeling overwhelmed, you gave Yeosang a look that read ‘I need to get out of here right fucking now’, then grabbed your bag and ran out of the classroom. You kept running until you reached the river surrounding the premise, respectively a mile away from the building.

You hunched over, desperately trying to catch your breath. You let yourself fall to your knees, then justvsat there for a few moments, mind blank. It was trying to help you by numbing the pain through dissociation.

A few minutes passed before you heard somebody sit beside you in the lightly dewed grass. Yeosang had chased after you. “We’re going to find him,” he tried to comfort you, “I know we will.”

The next few days were a blur. Everyone tried to keep it together by continuing to do fun activities and attend to school requirements, but you’d be lying if you said any of it was helping. Though, maybe your date with Yunho would help a bit, at least you hoped so. 

“Hey,” he exhaled, the warmth of his breath mixing with the crisp winter air, “it’s good to see you.”

He stood in the doorway of Gryffindor, hands stuffed in his pocket as he fidgeted to keep himself warm. You pulled him in for a hug, giving him a light squeeze before pulling away. “Have you been well?” You asked. With all the stress eating away at you, you had told Yunho you needed a bit of space, but still wanted to keep your date. You agreed not to talk for a few days until the date so you could get your heads straight.

“As well as I can be, I suppose,” he admitted, “but I think tonight will cheer me up a bit, don’t you think?”

Wooyoung walked past the archway of the kitchen a few feet away, eyeing the two of you as he made his way upstairs to his room. You felt history was about to repeat itself, the whole ‘you two fuck, then act like everything is normal’ situation. You knew this is something you’d have to talk to him about, but it would have to wait until after the date.

You smiled up at Yunho as he reached to brush off a loose strand of hair from your lips. “You look great,” he complimented.

“You do, too,” you replied, “this flannel suits you very well.” You played with his sleeve for a moment, causing a light blush to rise to his cheeks.

“Thank you.” He grabbed your hand gently as he began to guide you along with him towards the train station.

You were surprised to find the bowling alley to be as busy as it was on a Thursday night. Though, in a university town, ‘weekends’ fell differently for everyone. You and Yunho made small talk as you both put on your shoes and set up the lane, discussing things like the songs they were playing and how the hockey game went a few nights prior. Once the two of you began your match, it was made clear that Yunho was surprisingly good. You never actually went bowling together, but you told him all about your competitions when you’d hang out over the summer. Not a lot of people cared to hear you talk about the sport, but Yunho gave you all of his undivided attention. 

“Damn, I have some competition,” you pestered, standing up for your turn. Yunho smirked at you as you switched places, sitting cross-armed with a hint of arrogance as he watched you take your shot. What a liar he was, claiming he didn’t have a competitive bone in his body.

Yunho made sure to tease you a lot when he won the game. You rolled your eyes, smacking his arm playfully as he continued to annoy you. 

“Winner buys dinner,” you said, poking out your tongue.

He acted shocked that you’d ask such a thing, the two of you giggling as you walked over towards the dining area.

“So, tell me more about you,” Yunho said, taking a bite of his pepperoni pizza.

“What do you want to know?” You questioned. Though you and Yunho had gotten to know each other well over the summer, there was still plenty to discover about one another.

“Like,” he started, eyes furrowing in thought, “what’s your biggest fear?”

While you contemplated your answer, you began to remember the things the kids in school would say to you as they bullied you relentlessly. You surprised yourself when it dawned on you that their words had affected you more than you realised. Perhaps you became so numb to it all, it was never noticeable before. “It sounds cliche, but,” you began, “being alone.” Yunho watched you silently, waiting for you to continue. “Growing up, the kids at school treated me terribly, and they’d always tell me I’d end up alone.” Yunho frowned, reaching to grab your hand across the table, his lightly greased fingertips brushing against your knuckles. Your heartbeat began to quicken. “I didn’t realise it until now, but that actually affected me a lot,” you laughed, somewhat bitterly. “I always thought it didn’t bother me, but I was wrong.”

You felt a few tears run down your cheeks, tasting the salt on your lips. Yunho cupped your chin, wiping the rest away with his thumb before they reached them again. “En,” he said, gently, “I’m sorry that happened. You didn’t deserve that at all.” He was looking deep into your eyes now, as if he was searching for the pain so that he could reach through them to get inside and pull it out of you himself, “you are a beautiful person.”

“Thanks, Yu,” you whispered, placing your hand over his’ on your cheeks, “you are, too.”

As if a magnet was pulling the two of you closer together, in a matter of seconds you were both leaning over the table, lips hovering over one another’s. You allowed yourselves to fall into the moment, pressing them together with ease. He tasted sweet, plus the hint of saltiness from the pizza. He kept his hand steady resting on your face.

You looked at each other as you parted, blushing as if you were teenagers just experiencing their first kiss. Yunho, pecked your cheek before resting back into his seat.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Yunho’s ringtone interrupted you. That seemed to happen a lot these days. When you both saw it was Mingi calling, panic set in.

“Hello?” Yunho answered nervously. You tapped your foot anxiously as you waited to find out what was being discussed. “He’s back?” Yunho looked at you wide-eyed, your breath hitching in your throat as you pieced together that they were talking about Jongho. “We’re on our way.”

You glanced at your phone, only a moment passing since Yunho ended the call with Mingi. There was a text notification from Yeosang.

Yeo: im sorry to interrupt your date, but i wanted to let you know jongho is back. please come by slytherin asap

Yunho quickly grabbed your hand, pulled you up from the booth and said, “Jongho’s back,” before rushing you out of the bowling alley. 

You heard a mixture of shouting and hushed speech as you approached the house.

“This is insane, Jjong, you had us worried sick!” Hongjoong yelled at Jongho as you and Yunho entered through the door. “I swear to god if this has anything to do with your beef with En…” He was in his face now, pointing his finger harshly at him. 

“Why would this have anything to do with her?” Jongho pressed.

“She’s the last one who talked to you,” San chimed in, “and you’re not exactly subtle about your shitty feelings towards her.”

Something flashed across Jongho’s eyes you couldn’t quite make out when he saw you enter the room. It seemed like he was apologising for more than just disappearing, but you didn’t know what.

Sighing, Mingi stood up and walked over to him, offering a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Look,” he said, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m just glad you’re back.” Jongho flinched at his touch. He was clearly still shaken up from the whole ordeal. 

Wooyoung eyed your hand in Yunho’s, an almost unnoticeable discomfort washing over his features. Yeah, we need to talk, you sighed to yourself.

“Jongho,” you said, approaching him sitting in the armchair. He almost looked nervous. What was going through his head? “I’m glad you're safe,” you said softly, offering a kind smile. He seemed to relax a bit at the gesture, but his stiffness was still evident.

“Thank you,” he muttered, face staying stoic.

After about fifteen minutes more of questions and frustrations being thrown around, everyone seemed to ease up a bit from the tension.

“Jongho,” Seonghwa said from the doorway, “don’t do this again,” he threatened, “talk to us next time,” before palliating. There was a series of goodbyes as he, Hongjoong, San, and Mingi made their way out of the house. You, Yeosang, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Jongho remained there.

Attempting to break through the silence, you offered to get drinks for everyone, “Does anyone want water?” Though, you really just needed an excuse to be in solitude for a few minutes.

Entering the kitchen, you released the breath you had been holding in for who knows how long, slowly filling the cups. You tried a few deep breathing exercises to relieve the anxiety that was pulsating in your throat.

“En,” Jongho’s voice came out soft as he slowly approached you by the counter, “I’m sorry.” You looked at him, pained. “I’m so, so sorry,” he repeated.

“If you’re hurting, please tell us,” you comforted him softly, reaching to rub his back, “we’re your friends. Well, I was once, anyway.”

“You shouldn’t trust others so easily.”

You furrowed your brows, unsure what he meant. “What does that mean?”

“Just know I’m extremely sorry for all of this,” is all he said, backing away from you and leaving the kitchen before your touch could reach him.

Once back in the living room, the five of you continued to chat, attempting to get things back to normal. Of course, it was only natural the tension would last past Jongho’s return, but sooner or later everyone would leave the situation in the past. 

After another thirty minutes or so of mingling, Yunho stood up from the couch. “I should get going,” he announced.

You were sitting in a forrest green loveseat near the fireplace when you decided to see him off, as well as thinking that you should probably head home yourself. You arose from being seated. “I think I should, too. Woo, are you coming?”

Wooyoung nodded, joining the two of you. “I’m glad your back, man,” he said, pulling Jongho in for a hug on the way out. He didn’t return it. 

“Be safe getting home,” Yeosang called after the three of you as you exited the house. 

Once outside, the three of you stood awkwardly for a moment before you and Yunho moved towards the driveway, with Wooyoung staying behind on the front porch. You reached over to Yunho for a hug. “Text me when you get home, okay?” You said as you broke away from each other.

He nodded. “Sure.” He reached for your hand, pulling you gently closer to him. Wooyoung was watching the two of you from a distance, leaning against one of the front pillars. He didn’t want to get in the way of your little moment, despite how annoyed it made him.

When Yunho went in to kiss you, you turned away. Knowing Wooyoung was standing directly behind you and watching made you feel too uneasy and self-conscious to kiss him. He smiled awkwardly, dropping your hands back to your sides. When he glanced at Wooyoung, he understood. He saw the way he watched you nearly kiss another man and the red rising to your cheeks as you felt his eyes boring into your back. At that moment, Yunho knew it wasn’t going to be him, but he wouldn’t say anything yet. He needed you to admit it to yourself first.

“I’ll see you,” He said simply before patting your head and walking off.

Wooyoung emerged from the pillars to join your side, draping his arm over your shoulder. You rested up against him, gripping at the hem of his shirt to keep you steady on his chest.

“How did the date go?” He asked.

“Fine,” you answered, “Yunho’s a nice guy, and he-” you paused, “wait, how did you know there was a date?”

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder playfully. “It’s not hard to figure out, babe.”

You kept your eyes on him as he messed with your hair, teasing you a bit. You watched the way his dimples formed and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. You smelled the musk of his cologne while his body moved. “Woo, I like you,” you blurted out suddenly.

“I know.”

“And we need to talk about the other night.”

“I know.”

“And the night months ago.”

“I know.”

“I also like Yunho.”

“I know.”

“Can you stop saying that!?”

He laughed again. “I’m sorry. You’re just very easy to read.”

“I am not!”

“Okay, cherry.” He squeezed your blushed cheeks before pecking the top of your head. “Let’s talk about it, then.”

The two of you sat on a park bench not far from Gryffindor, pausing your walk home to chat. The night was chill, though surprisingly warm for being in the middle of December. 

“I can’t act like things are normal.” you started, turning your body so you were facing him as you spoke. “You make me feel things, Woo, and I can’t ignore it anymore.”

“What about Yunho? Does he know?”

You nodded. “He wanted to give us a try despite that, and I agreed. I thought it'd be a good idea, but…”

“But?”

“He’s sweet, thoughtful,” Wooyoung held back a groan, “and has a lot going for him, but, I just can’t stop thinking about you.” He sat quietly, listening intently to your words. “After that night last term, I wanted to address it so badly. I just didn’t know how. I was afraid you’d act like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was always a big deal, En, and I wish I would have said something then.” Wooyoung frowned, his knee brushing against yours.

“Then why were you dating around all the time?” You asked. 

“I thought I could fuck away the feelings,” he admitted. “I had never really liked anyone before, so when I started to feel that way about you, I panicked. I didn’t want to fuck things up. But, obviously pretending like it was nothing did exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

You understood, because your motivation for agreeing to date Yunho was for the same exact reason. It was true you had feelings towards Yunho, but they weren’t as deep as the one’s you felt for Wooyoung. You had to be honest with yourself. They weren’t going away any time soon. “Then let’s try not to fuck things up between us this time.”

[zeep-xanflorp]

ok i'm just gonna ramble ab unmortricken bc i have exactly ZERO COHERENT THOUGHTS AB IT

evil morty backstory - i rlly like that they just made him some random morty who rose above everything after getting sick of rick's abuse. it makes what he did feel even more earned and weighty. i think his motivation is a bit extreme still but i can't rlly blame him.

it's cool seeing infinity beyond the central finite curve. the jetsons inspired bit was v amusing bc i forgot about them lmao. but otherwise it seems absolutely wild west beyond the curve and i LIVE for that.

i also didnt imagine that we'd be seeing him again. i thought the way he left the show was perfect and if they brought him back it would just feel cheap but it DOESNT in this episode i love his appearance.

i rlly like seeing our morty be supportive of rick. he's literally trying everything to cheer him up and it's very important to me.

the prime decoys confuse me. like do they all share a consciousness? is prime just very very good at fucking with ppl that he's made all the decoys communicate w each other?

evil morty outsmarting rick is a great recurring theme in the episode. "filter for probability stasis" YEAH U TELL HIM LITTLE DUDE. we've never seen a morty like that EXCEPT for him and i think it's wonderful.

the exchange between rick and evil morty. "you're such a narcissist" / "literal glass house" / "you think you're better than me?" / "jesus i HOPE SO" SHITTING

i didnt initially like the decoy trap thing being full of loads of other ricks. it made me feel like our rick wasn't very important to this dude and rick just made an enemy of a guy who didn't know he existed. BUT i don't stand by that anymore. the rest of the episode made me change my mind very quickly with.

the omega device. holy fuck this is the worst reveal to come out of this episode. she wasn't just killed, she was ERASED by prime in every reality. like she is GONE gone. that's why we've never seen her, save in flashbacks and memories. she's gone.

and i'm pretty sure it's our rick's fault that he did that. we see his beth and his diane be killed by a bomb, not wiped from reality like slo mobius is later in the episode. so his family was killed BEFORE all the shit with the omega device. ik correlation ≠ causation, but it rlly explains why our rick in particular is so hungry for revenge. if he was the one that made prime kill diane everywhere then he had to be the one to make prime pay for it.

i like how the multiple monitors seems to be prime's signature move. it happens here and in the s6 premiere.

and oh fuck the parallels. "when i invent something it works, it's called being talented" in story train vs "when i make a weapon in works."

oh man the diane head weapon thing. it's interesting that it was programmed to mock rick sexually, but even on our rick who knows it's a trap, it still affects him seeing her face again. "god i missed that face." and then the blank stare when she asks for a kiss. pretty sweet and fucked up.

rick and evil morty having to work together to get their portals working. the contrast between our morty freaking out and evil morty blank staring.

the bit with the portal closing too soon. i know it happened earlier this season and i think it's so funny lmao.

I CANNOT STRESS TO YOU ENOUGH THAT I WAS SO MADE WHEN I WORKED OUT THAT INSTEAD OF YELLING WHILE GOING THROUGH THE CURVE THING IN THE MIDFLE OF THE EP HE WAS SCREAMING "PRIME" THOSE DIABOLICAL LITTLE BASTARDS AT ADULT SWIM.

prime calling rick the Wife Guy. hilarious. raises questions. makes me gnaw on my cell bars.

AND THEN the second incredible reveal of the episode: "Honestly, Wife Guy, I do miss when it was just us. The only two Ricks who actually invented portal travel." WHAT bestie prime bby girl u need to say that again. you guys were the ONLY ones who invented interdimensional travel, every rick's claim to fame. but no they just got the technology from prime who started a boys club of ricks who wanted to leave their lives behind that our rick refused.

but the reference to a time when they were closer, when it was only them - HELLO?? maybe i'm grasping at straws bc i want them to bang but holy shit.

the confirmation of the fan theory that rick based his AI voice on his wife. 10/10.

and then the fight scene. oh gods the fight scene. rick just screaming that he'll kill prime. prime regenerating constantly, looking unscathed as our rick becomes more and more dishevelled. it's too perfect i CANT. but otherwise they both seem pretty evenly matched w all the implants and stuff so without the regeneration i think rick would've had him. oh well.

rick like literally died during the fight.

the cool grandson/shitty grandpa exchange gives me breath. i LOVE how it's a morty that outsmarts prime. it's what he deserves.

prime still trying to be a smartass to evil morty, growing more and more panicked as it goes on bc he doesn't know what to do with the situation and control for once is not in his hands.

"what are u gonna 'aw geez' me to death?"

evil morty not even explaining his plan, just silently dragging in our rick and reviving him. saying "knock yourself out" with the intended double meaning. prime's almost scared expression as rick gets dragged in.

and then our rick has a choice. he can stop evil morty from keeping the weapon plans or he can kill prime. but that's a choice he made already. it's not even a decision. so his other enemy gets away.

the brutal brutal scene at the end when rick is just hitting prime. no tech, no implants, no gadgets. just fists. and rick beats him literally to a pulp as prime screams and laughs at him and taunts him further. it's meant to be sickening. it's meant to be personal. and it accomplishes that perfectly.

they don't even show prime's body in great detail. it's RIGHT in the background but we heard the sounds of the punches, we saw his nose break and his bloody teeth and haemorrhaging eyes and his brains coming out the side of it head and all we can make out is his fucked up swollen and broken face in the background as he sits still attached to the chair, a river of his blood pouring from the room.

but its not triumphant. they made rick's revenge hollow and bittersweet. its over but it destroyed rick in the process. who is he now that he isn't hunting prime? fucking no one.

then "look on down from the bridge" starts playing. we heard this in season 1 in rick potion #9 after morty had to bury a version of himself. he was struggling with the purpose of his life after switching universes. but he deals with it and overcomes it.

i think that scene is rick, for the first time in the entire show, struggling with his nihilistic philosophy. bc yes, he's shown to be an existentialist in the show (the difference being existentialists are "nothing matters but this matters to me" instead of "nothing matters so i don't have to do anything"). he had a drive. he had ppl he cared about. but now he's reached his goal he just feels empty and hollow. everything's meaningless and he's NOT okay with that. he never has been, but he has to grapple with that finally now he doesn't have a distraction. i don't think he can just bounce back and move past what happened.

ppl are saying this episode felt overstuffed and maybe it was but i'm very pleased with it and want to know where it's going.

i feel we still don't know the full story with prime. i'm predicting a flash back episode in the future explaining what the nature of their relationship was like before the bomb incident.

we also know that evil morty has this weapon that could destroy all ricks. so that is just a ticking bomb.

anyway i can't wait for angsty rick.

i actually watched unforgiven for this episode bc i'm a big fan of westerns anyway. the only real parallels i can see is they both have a group of three (two are already partners and the other one is the call to adventure) and an unsatisfying ending. bc that's the nature of westerns. they should NEVER end happily, and if u think so then ur wrong (/nsrs enjoy media how u want).

some things i haven't mentioned but enjoyed nonetheless

the schematics for the omega device is titled <SCHEMATICS BOOGER-AIDS-V2>

the arm/leg swap best in the fight

the comparison between the song at the end playing here and in season one shows with just visuals how the dynamic of beth and jerry's (and beth's) marriage has evolved since then.

everyone freaking out when indiana jones rick shoots and it ricochets off the wall and evil morty just stands expressionless until it hits his forcefield.

morty going to hug rick covered in blood, realising, hesitating, and then doing it later anyway to try and make rick feel better.

evil morty making a point to say that he doesn't want vengeful summers coming after him for omega devicing rick. not vengeful mortys, vengeful SUMMERS.

just evil morty in this whole episode was an absolute delight i need to see him more.

THE TEAR MARKS AFTER RICK EMERGES FROM BEATING PRIME TO DEATH

slo mobius' wife almost going down the same path our rick did only to find someone she loves and focus on that, saving her. makes me wonder if they're gonna try putting rick in a relationship.

this ended up being way longer than it should have. anyway. very pleased. this season is hitting all the marks for me overall.

also don't be too hard on me i didnt edit this 😭

[softmaki]

a soft evening

summary; the setting sun provides a small moment of comfort before you fall asleep with your beloved

wc: 1k (on the dot!)

warnings; none, besides not being proofread and some minor suggestive commentary

character(s); written w leon kennedy in mind, tho open to imagination! might not fit energetic or cheesy romantic types, though :,)

a/n; first time writing or posting in years, hope u like it 😭 if I need to change anything lmk!!! and my requests are always open :)

The only source of light in the room was the stray rays of the sun coming through the window, casting a soft orange glow that made the small room feel cosy. The blinds were yet to be closed, but given how heavenly the warmth made his features look you didn’t want to move from your current position.

He hums softly as he feels your gaze lock on his face. You place every small detail of him into your conscience; the small birthmark that decorated his left cheek, the way his brows furrowed even outside of a professional environment, and the soft look in his usually steely eyes once he opens them.

You shake your head and mimic his hum in response. Your neck was starting to feel uncomfortable leaning on his shoulder and looking up. Shifting a bit, you feel one of his arms graze around your torso and then tighten at your hip.

He lets out a small grunt, one that almost passed by you, as he looks at you somewhat expectantly. You pause for a second to look at him and try to figure out why he paused his movement until it clicked.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and quickly pushed yourself up and onto his lap.

Unlike other times you were in this position, this felt much more intimate. You’re not sure why, though you chalk it up to the setting sun and quietness of it all.

With your frame slightly taller than his now, you get the pleasure of looking down on him and staring warmly into his eyes. You’ve already memorised his features, not only from earlier but also from all the countless other times you two shared such a close proximity, but you choose to look over and admire him again. And you’ll keep doing it as long as he lets you.

He hums again as you make eye contact, his arms that rested on your hips curling around your waist entirely. He trapped you in a tight embrace, pushing your face closer to his.

You knew he didn’t have any ulterior motives with that move tonight, and if you were being honest you much preferred the idea of simply admiring each other tonight than anything else you could’ve passed time with.

Your hands slowly creep up from his shoulders to gently hold his face, your right thumb caressing over his cheekbone calmly.

You note how his eyes close at the feeling of your hands.

Your left hand slowly shifts lower to hold his chin and tilt his head up more. His eyes open slowly at the feeling, taking a moment to focus on your face.

You smile at him and he returns it, subtly, with a twitch in the corner of his mouth. Though you know he’s too tired to fully form a smile at the moment.

You slowly lean your face down a bit, both of your eyes half lidded as your eyes flick to his parted lips. You don’t notice, but his eyes linger on your lips, too.

You smile again as you get close enough to feel his breath on your lips, and without a second pause you connect your lips. His thoughts turn fuzzier than they were when he feels your smile in the kiss, and a small tug at his heartstrings is duly noted by his brain at some point. You remain still for a few seconds, then lean in and deepen the kiss a bit. You hum out in satisfaction, though it’s so quiet that you both barely even notice it. Now he’s the one smiling as you tilt your head a bit, though the smile is quickly gone when you pull back just enough to disconnect the kiss, yet not far enough to remove the faint feeling of your breath on his cupid's bow.

His thoughts become clearer as his eyes open for the nth time tonight, and it’s now his turn to note your features into his memory. And it’s the same story as with you. Despite having memorised all the distinct features that make you uniquely you through your time shared together, he so greatly appreciates being able to just gaze at you and note it all to memory. Time and time again.

You both just stare at each other for a few minutes, your hand starting to caress his cheek again, though this time you simply lean your head down into the crook of his neck instead. Your right hand follows suit, but instead it places itself on the right side of his chest.

You feel comfort at the feeling of his constant and strong heartbeats. It reminds you he’s safe and it helps ground you and your thoughts each time. He feels your paused hand movement as you just feel his pulse, and he so strongly wants to say that it only beats for you. The thought of saying something so cheesy tugs his lips into a smile unwittingly, and he stops himself only because he deemed it too embarrassing to say such a thing.

And maybe he thought it would ruin the moment, who knows.

Your left hand drops down to rest at his side, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt and tugging ever so slightly as your eyes close slowly.

You start to doze off ever so slightly, and your ears perk a tiny bit at hearing his breathing slow down, too.

His grip on your waist hasn’t relented though, and you safely assume it’ll carry on like that into the night. You mentally chuckle a bit at the idea.

And after a few more minutes, you both fall unconscious. The last thought that crossed your mind was something along the lines of ‘God, our backs are gonna be SO sore in the morning.’

Although you didn’t find it in you to care, be it now or when it does happen. Because no matter what, you’d always choose his presence and warmth over your own short-term health.

[pisspope]

okay this is actually the first time ive written filth literally ever so please go easy on me

it's y/n and connie getting freaky in a pizzeria bathroom. like that's it that's the fic

((and big thank u to @quiveringdeer for looking this over for me beforehand!! it means a lot to me 😊))

Manners

connie x reader

cw: afab reader, sort-of dom connie, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, praise kink a little? and of course mdni

when you first start dating connie, it's innocent. it's walks by the lake, it's watching him do tricks at the skate park, it's holding hands at the movies. you feel like you're 17 again, laughing together while you play guitar hero and memorizing each others drink orders at the local coffee shop. it's innocent. it's refreshing.

but one day you're walking downtown and the sun is setting, and his hazel eyes are shining, and something just. changes. it's primal, it's downright sinful. you can't keep your hands off him for another second.

Not an hour has passed and you're in the unisex bathroom of your local pizza parlor. It's way in the back, far away from the hustle and bustle of the dining area, where the only prying eyes are the pair right in front of you. Connie's lips are slack and shining with spit, and what little hair is on his head is pushed up in every direction.

Hes got you pushed up against the flaky 1990s style wallpaper, and the whole place reeks of red pepper flakes and bread. But all you can really smell is the heady scent of Him, as he grips your wrist with one hand and pushes it above your head with a thump.

"Fuckkkk," he whines, "when's the last time I told you how sexy you are?" he's pressing you into the wall with the full weight of his body, baggy t-shirt hiding the rigidity of his muscles as they pin you in place.

You laugh, intoxicated by the feel of him. "About 30 seconds ago baby."

He nuzzles into your neck, groans so loud you can feel the purr of his voice box against your shoulder. "Damnnnnnn that long? I gotta pick up the slack."

He moves a hand down to your hips, grips you even tighter. Before you can even register what he's doing, he's biting down onto your neck, licking and sucking like his life depends on it. You try to choke back your moans to no avail. Especially when he works his way up to your ear, making the most lewd sounds you've ever heard, right where he knows you can hear it.

"God you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, but it's loud and clear by the shell of your ear. "I'm gonna fuck you so good. Gonna make you forget we're in a goddamn pizza parlor."

And Connie is dependable. The type of guy who keeps his promises. So when he slips off your pants dangerously slowly and gets on his knees along with them, you know he's not bluffing. Two fingers, freshly trimmed you notice, reach out to touch the bottom of your underwear, reverently testing the areas closest to your heat. "Look at that," he whispers, almost to himself. "Already so wet. That for me?"

You nod, a little embarrassed. You're no unplucked flower, but this has all been preamble up to this point. The farthest you've gone with Connie is an impromptu makeout session while out on a hike, nothing like this.

"Yeah?" He says, acknowledging your sheepish response. "Who am I kidding. Of course it's for me."

In one swift motion, he takes your panties between his teeth, right where he had pressed so delicately earlier, and pulls them down to your ankles. Before you even have time to register the chill of the bathroom his mouth is on your cunt, tongue pressing open your folds as those same fingers rub circles on your inner thighs.

"Connie..." you breathe out, unable to stop yourself. Your head hits the back of the gritty wallpaper as he works at pleasuring you, the sloppy noise of tongue against slick echoing in the empty bathroom. "Fuck you're good at this."

Connie hums in response, looks up at you with those big hazel eyes, now looking closer to brown from the darkness of his arousal. He's absolutely tongue fucking you, the speed and pressure only continuing to increase in intensity. You're fine to keep going and finish like this, just a quickie in the bathroom before dinner, but then he starts kissing around your thigh instead, and you know hes got something else in mind.

You look down at him, annoyed and missing the feeling of tongue. But as you drink in the site of him, head buried in between your legs while the other hand palms at his jeans, all is forgiven. Ugh, you can't not fuck him.

"Sorry, baby," he says, pulling away from you as he starts to undo his belt. "Can't just let you have all the fun."

In a blink his bottoms are off, and he's standing over you again, cock upright and glistening with precum. He's stroking himself slowly, and you watch enraptured as he takes his other hand and slides two fingers in your mouth. "Get 'em wet for me, wouldja baby?" He smirks as you do as you're told, sucking and licking like its his dick in your mouth and not this shallow approximation. "Wanna make sure I do this right for you."

Fingers properly lubricated, he pulls them slowly out of your mouth and brings them to the front of your hole, pausing a moment to run his wet digits over your aching clit. "Damn you're pretty like this. You're gonna have to suck me off next time or else I'm gonna get jealous of my own fingers."

He slides his fingers in achingly slow, both at a time so you can feel the stretch on each knuckle. He spreads you apart experimentally, feeling the give of your folds and relishing in the little noises you make. You're like putty in his hands, ready to be sculpted into any shape he wants. And fuck does he know the shape he wants.

"Y/N, fuck," he mutters, more to himself than you. "You didn't even need my fingers, did you?"

"Yeah, no, I didn't," you breathe out, trying to muster up any coherent thought left in your lust-addled brain. "I just, fuck, can I have your dick please?"

Connie stops what he's doing, pulls his fingers out just as slowly as he put them in. "What?" He whispers, obviously bewildered.

You huff, running low on brain power and not in the mood to deal with whatever this is. "Connie, can I have your dick please?"

"God, Fuck," he bites out, each syllable sharp as he starts lining himself up under you. "Of course you can."

He tries his best to suppress a groan as he slips inside of you, the stretch driving both of you deeper into your shared pleasure. He grinds his hips a few times, testing the waters. His cock is fairly average, a little girthier than you expected, but he obviously knows how to use it. "Baby, you're so cute," he pants, rolling his hips. "Asking me to fuck you like that....so fucking polite."

"Polite?" you ask, feeling a blush creeping up your face. Which is ridiculous, he's got his cock buried deep in your pussy and you're getting flustered over a little compliment like that. "You think me begging you to fuck me was.... polite?"

Connie stops his grinding to look up at you, blush now spreading across his cheeks. "Yeah, not the begging but like...." he trails off. "I think it's sexy that you mind your manners. Even, ynow, in the heat of it."

You laugh out loud. You can't fucking help it. Constance "Connie" Springer, thinks it's sexy when you say please and thank you? When you mind your p's and q's? "Okay, okay," you chuckle, faking wiping tears from your eyes. "If that's the case then please, Connie, please start moving. And I'll try my best to be a good girl and not be too loud."

"Oh, Y/N," Connie says, bringing you in for a kiss. "I would never tell you to be quiet."

And as you requested, he starts moving, setting a pace that sends flakes of drywall fluttering off the ceiling. He's voracious, holding you to his chest as he pounds you into the wall. You're going to have fingerprint shaped bruises underneath your shoulderblades for weeks. He takes the side of your neck in his mouth, leaves no bit of skin unbruised by his teeth and tongue.

You try to hold back your moans as you come undone, but Connie is relentless. He tips your head to the ceiling as he hears you swallow yet another whine. "Don't hide how good I make you feel," he growls, eyes so dark they're practically black. "You mind your manners and thank me for how good I fuck you."

His demands tip you over the edge, and you're cumming messily over his cock, screaming his name and babbling thank yous over and over until you come down. You watch in the haze of your orgasm as he reaches his high, pulling out at the last possible second, tugging himself just once or twice before spilling ropes of his seed on the bathroom wall. And fuck it's nearly hypnotizing to watch him pump himself to fruition, his eyes closed tight and his mouth open as he reaches his climax.

Connie sighs out loud, runs a sweaty hand through his buzzed hair. "Damn, that was something else!" He walks back over to where you stand, practically glued to the wall, legs shaky, and brings your lips to his. He pulls back, and his eyes soften. "Thank you."

You smile at him, slowly coming back to reality. "You're welcome. And thank you, too, Constance."

He rolls his eyes at the use of his full name, but soon returns to that familiar shit-eating grin. "Sooooooo," he says, pointing a thumb to the bathroom door. "Pizza?"

[excessive-vampires]

Alphabet Thralls Part 3: The Sentencing

Masterlist with content warnings

Taglist: @d-cs @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @softvampirewhump

There wasn’t enough food to fully restore the prisoner’s strength, just a ham and cheese sandwich and a sliced up apple. But they still all felt better now that their stomachs were no longer empty. About ten minutes after they had all finished eating, the woman in the lab coat and the man in the suit returned. The man was holding the packets of forms, the woman had a clipboard. He glanced across the room and his gaze landed on S’s tray. The apple slices were untouched, except for one which had a small bite taken out of it. 

“You may continue to eat if you wish.” 

“I don’t like green apples.” S said matter-of-factly.

The man stepped forward. “You won’t be given anything else.”

“I know.” Then S quickly added, “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was asking for something else.” 

The man nodded like this confirmed something he’d suspected. He walked over to where T was cowering in the back of the room, trying to control her sobs. The woman followed and grabbed the pen tied to her clipboard. 

“One hour of mental restructuring.” The man said calmly. 

No one in the room breathed for a long moment, and the only sound was the woman’s pen scratching on the clipboard. Then T started to wail, completely giving up on the idea of controlling her tears. 

U’s throat was bone dry as the duo of handlers approached her. “Three hours.” The man said. Her thoughts raced as she tried to come up with any kind of plan. 

The man stepped over to R. “Three hours as well.” 

Since the handlers had already assigned Q four hours earlier, S was last. They felt their heart race as the man in the suit approached. As he looked down and met their eyes they inhaled sharply. Was that the first breath they had taken since they had heard the words ‘mental restructuring’?

“Schedule this one for a full five hour session.”

The woman with the clipboard gave the man an odd look, but did not question him. 

S’s mind was blank, unable to process anything at all until the turn of the door handle cut through the fog. Their eyes snapped up to where the two handlers were leaving the room. “What did I do wrong?!” they blurted out, desperation and fear hanging so heavy on their tone that their voice shook. 

The man looked back at them. “Nothing,” he said without emotion.

And then they were gone. 

The other four prisoners talked. R and U evaluated options. Q once again brought up the possibility of going out fighting. T mumbled about the horror stories her girlfriend read and the terrible scenarios that could suddenly be far less fictional.  

S remained completely silent. At one point Q tried to convince them to finally put up a fight. U made him shut up as tears leaked from S’s eyes. 

After about fifteen minutes the five handlers in jumpsuits walked through the door. One walked up to S and looked down at them expectantly. 

S thought it would be harder. Different fears drove them in opposite directions, but in the end, deep down, they didn’t want to make trouble. They never wanted to make trouble. It only took a moment's hesitation for them to stand and follow the handler who gently led them away by the arm. 

Q did not have a chance to make a move against his handler before they grabbed him by the throat, slammed him against the wall, and injected him with a sedative that knocked him out completely in seconds. The handler threw Q over their shoulder and walked out of the room. 

T was still in the back corner crying. She had covered her face with her hands when the door had opened. The handler that walked up to her asked her to follow them. She did not respond. They tried to pull her up by the arm. She resisted. She didn’t even see the handler take out the sedative and stab it into her thigh. They picked her up and carried her out over their shoulder, same as Q. 

R could not see the details of what was happening without his glasses. U whispered to him that resistance meant getting drugged. He saw the blurry figure of a handler standing above him hold out a hand. He stood without taking the offered help and walked away with the handler holding him firmly by the forearm. 

The last handler stood before U. She slowly stood. The handler was still a few feet away from her. She took a deep breath. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, letting fear seep into her voice.

They looked at her in mild annoyance. “Mind control.” 

She took in a sharp breath as if this was news to her. 

The handler lost their patience and grabbed her arm. “Follow me or you get the sedative.” 

U shuffled along out of the room. 

The holding cell was cleared. Mattresses and pillows put away. Trays and dishes taken to the kitchen. Chairs bolted back down. The scribbled night sky S had drawn in black crayon was found and dispassionately scrubbed from the floor.

[ohgodimafraud]

the thing that would not leave (t/diapt)

fandom: t/he d/evil is a part timer

characters: u/rushihara and g/abriel (could be a ship if u want)

summary: How i think g/abriel entering the devils castle and harassing l/ucifer shouldve gone (l/ucifer has a cold obvi)

word count: 1,487

Minors DNI

***

It’s rare for Urushihara to have the apartment to himself these days, and that makes it all the more offensive to have an intruder who hadn’t been relevant in ages up until recently. The fan continued to whir in the background and for once the breeze was actually giving him enough reprieve from the sweltering that he had goosebumps. With the constant humidity, this was something welcome, unlike Gabriel’s presence. He’d give his back teeth to see Alas Ramus beating his ass any day; he’d only heard the recounts from Maou and Emilia, but he was sure such a sight would keep him entertained for the next few decades. 

Even after writing down the original demon king’s “treasures” he hadn’t moved to leave and it was beginning to cut into his online shopping time. 

“It looks like a drunk seven year old wrote this,” Gabriel sighed, looking at the paper. “Really?”

“I can type ninety words a minute, y’know dude.”

“Mm’kay…how can you be alive for this long and still have handwriting like that? Is that not a part of NEET pride?”

“No.” Urushihara rolled his eyes and shook his head. For a moment there was silence save for the clacking of his keyboard and the whirring of his fan. All this back and forth was starting to drain him.

“So…think of any other treasures?” 

“Dude, that’s all I got. Like I said, most Satans are poor.” He gestured to the room around them before pointedly turning back to the screen. Eventually the big lug would show himself out. He rubbed his nose. A tickle had taken root and had been prickling at the pack of his nose since earlier in the morning and much like Gabriel, it had stubbornly refused to leave. He’d lost track of how much he’d sneezed today already. 

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hehh…” He took in a vocal inhale and with one hand, turned the brightness of the screen up for encouragement, and with the other hand brought his collar up over his nose before sneezing violently into the fabric of his shirt. “hAH’KSSHhieeh!” 

Gabriel flinched at the loud expulsion, but his initial expression of confusion quickly shifted to amusement. “Bless you? Oh wait. Can I say that given your…condition?”

Urushihara glared at him. “Dude, you’re actually not, like, supposed to say anything here.” He pulled a tissue out from the dwindling supply in the travel pack next to his leg.

“Hm. But I have a question.”

Urushihara blew his nose. Noisily. 

Gabriel took this as his cue to continue. Apparently he was already correcting his earlier digression of reading the mood. “Since when do you sneeze like that?”He was on his way to becoming a second-rate-NEET after all. 

Urushihara turned red. “Like what? Leave me ahhlone,” he protested, breath hitching slightly with the threat of another performance. Fuck. He scrubbed at his nose, but from the persistent way his eyes kept trying to close, he knew trying to ward off the sneeze was a lost cause. 

Gabriel put his stupid hands on his stupid hips and bent forward like a stupid rooster waiting for a worm to come out of the ground. “I’ll wait. You take your time, bud.”

“hadhtKSHH’iieeh!” Urushihara crumpled forward and shook from the kickback of the sneeze. He emitted a raspy groan and sniffled and rubbed his nose with his wrist.

“I’m really just supposed to not comment on that?” 

“Dude,” Urushihara grumbled and sniffled. “What do you want from me?” Gabriel scratched his head and sighed. “Well, I came all this way and you gave me nothung, so—”

“Nothung is a sword. What do you want from me?”

“Oh.” Gabriel relaxed slightly as Lucifer gave him a look of contempt. He helped himself to a glass of cold barley tea. “All I’m sayin’ is you were pretty notorious for having a cute little kitten sneeze.”

Urushihara suppressed a shudder as he fished out another tissue and shook his head. “Don’t say kitten.” 

“Just wondering why you’re suddenly screaming. Trying to compensate for—“

Urushihara groaned and cut him off. “Dude, what the hell? Where do you get off coming here to insult me?” He sniffled again and gave his nose an upward swipe with the tissue and then he continued reading the Poketure TV tropes page. “Keep your crush to yourself. I’m not interested.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck and let out a huff of amusement. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m outta your league nowadays, so—“

“You’re a damn baby snatcher!” 

Gabriel winced and sat next to him. “Well, I did have some juicy info for you, bud, but after that, I think I’m gonna need some compensation.”

“Dude, Ashiya’ll literally rip you a new one if you take one more thing from the fridge.”

Gabriel smiled. “C’mon, not like that. Guess you can say I’ve been bored too, m’kay?”

“Try getting a life,” Urushihara muttered under his breath as he attempted to return to his own in discovering some fan analyses of the most recent movie in the franchise. He sniffled again and coughed briefly. 

“You getting a cold there, bud?”

“I don’t know, okay?” 

Gabriel leaned in and poked the tip of his nose. “Bang.” 

“What—hih-hht-! ugh f-fuck you.” He’d been a fraction of a second late in batting his hand away and the damage had already been done. “hehhdt…KKSHHh! HehKSSHHH’iEEH!”

“Hm…you probably are.”

“What the hell?” Urushihara crossed his arms and moved out of his reach. He pinched away a few tears from the inner corners of his eyes before flashing a glare. “What are you talking about?”

“You probably have a cold.” Gabriel made himself comfortable on the tatami mat beside him. “Did you start sneezing like that to seem tough around the demons?” 

“Dude, no!” Urushihara’s frown turned into a look of disgust. “You’re so weird. Stop asking me questions about my sneezes.”

“I’m already not reading the mood.”

“Congrats.” 

“You know, you should be a little nicer to me.” Gabriel sighed.

Urushihara rolled his eyes and grabbed another tissue. The day he started sucking up to Gabriel would be when hell had been frozen over for a millennia. His nose stung with each chafe of the cheap one-ply fabric, and he was starting to think he did in fact have a cold.

“You don’t really sound good. Was falling really worth it?” 

“Yes.” Urushihara lowered the tissue for a moment and then squinted slightly before pinching off the budding itch. He was getting more nasally with each word. “And if you think so, that's another good reason to leave.”

“I’m sure you could use the company.”

Urushihara ignored him and scrolled further down the page and smirked at the text. The Thing That Would Not Leave, he read. How cliché. If he could just sit there in silence, eventually Gabriel would leave. Unfortunately, with the way the past few hours had been going, it might not be so easy, and the glare from the blue-tinted light was actively working against his attempts at ignoring the itch that was worsening with every inhale. 

“Need another tissue?” Gabriel asked in amusement as he looked over him. He leaned in closer and smiled. “Looks like you’re gonna start up again.”

“Juhhstt stop talki’hhg abouhht—heh…KSHh! Ihkshh! h’KTshh! Iht’kshh!” He sneezed in rapid fire succession, wrist moving up halfway through the fit to cover his nose. They kept coming on, fittish and pitchy, and he was unable to do anything other than ride it out. “mpt’TSShh! http’SHhhee! ihh..hh’TSchhieh!”

“Yeah, that’s more like I remember.”

“Hehht’ZSHHh! Okay? Happy?” He buried his nose into a fresh tissue and blew it again. It was filled and rendered useless after emptying one nostril and he needed to grab a few more. 

Gabriel also took a tissue and wiped the spray from his obnoxious t-shirt. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have gotten so close, but his curiosity had been appeased so he’d accept the consequences. “Guess I’m satisfied for now. Anyway, as I was gonna say…you really should be nicer to me, mm’kay? I’m the only reason The Watcher is standing down.”

“The—“ Urushihara sniffled and took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you lead with that? What the hell?”

“You should’ve guessed, because Sariel—“

“Hdt’ShhHieh! No! How would I know I’ve been out of the loop for like ever!”

“Aw. Bless y—“

“Dude I’m about to make a few calls and have you escorted out.”

“I’ll be long gone by the time you do.” Gabriel smiled. “Anyway, if you wanna do this again sometime, here’s my number.” He tore a paper and scrawled his number on it and flicked it at him. “Call me if you want to do this again sometime.”

“In your dreams.”

“Hope you have a nice day, bud.” Gabriel’s smile only widened before he finally left. 

Urushihara switched tabs and added same-day-shipping lotion-infused tissues to the cart.

[bettyweir]

My Bandmates A Vampire

Chapter 3.

Word Count: 1.6k

[First] [Prev] [All] [Next] [Ao3]

Benny walks up to the door, plate of cling wrapped chocolate chip cookies in hand, and looks over his shoulder. His eyes meet with his grandma who's standing a few feet behind him, giving the boy a wicked stare.

She was gonna make sure he introduced himself.

He gulps and hesitantly rings the doorbell.

After a bit of waiting, and hearing many shuffling footsteps, there's a crack in the door. A single brown eye meets him.

"Hi?"

"Ahem, Hello. My Name is Benny Weir.” He says in a monotone, scripted voice. ”Is this the Morgan residence?"

"Uh. Are you a solicitor or something?" the voice answers “my parents aren’t home.”

“Am I a what?!?”

“You know, like a solicitor,” The eye glances around ”are you trying to sell me something?”

“Oh… No.”

Benny thought. Never mind.

"I just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce myself” he shuffles in place “and I brought cookies.”

“That’s funny I just moved in too,” the door fully opens. “Come on in.”

Benny finally gets to see the entire person standing behind the door.

It’s the same brown headed keyboarder he saw earlier. He held himself in an overly anxious posture, not knowing what to do with himself.

“So, what's your name and where can I put this?”

"Uhhhh,” he says with a shaky voice, gesturing to the coffee table. “you can put the plate over there.”

“And..?” Benny walks into the living room, awaiting a response.

"Uh… Ethan. Morgan." he says as if he wasn't sure of himself.

As Benny sets down the plate he notices the lit xbox controller and tangled headphones on the table, and looks at the tv.

"Yooo omg,” He stares at the gray pause screen “you have Left for Dead TWO?!?"

"Yeah." he laughs "My teammates are probably pissed at me for leaving."

"Oh my goddd multiplayer" Benny puts his head back "I'm so jealous"

"Have you not played it yet?"

"Augh yeah, I haven't had much time for videogames ever since I started my band." He boasts, shooting a smirk towards his new neighbor.

"You have a band?"

"Well er,” his confidence quickly deflates “used to."

"Oh, what happened?"

"I. Had to move." Benny’s smile is completely gone.

"Aw that sucks." Ethan twiddles his thumbs, Benny obviously didn’t wanna talk about this, "Do u wanna play left for dead?"

"WOULD I?" he excitedly jumps to Ethans couch, making himself comfortable.

"Shit, wait, I only have one controller." Ethan wasn’t used to having so many IRL people interested in playing video games with him.

Benny pogs "Omg, I totally got one at home! I'll be right back"

Before Ethan could even object, Benny rushes out the door and breezes past his grandma.

"Was it that bad?" She shouts

"NO!!” he yells, tripping over himself “I GOTTA GET MY XBOX CONTROLLER!!"

Grandma stands puzzled but assumes that means he’ll be coming back.

Benny rushes up stairs, winded and out of breath, he quickly digs through his backpack and remembers how everything was soaked.

He finds the hopefully not broken, white xbox controller and sprints back to Ethans.

"Hi. Hello.” he says in between pants. “I’m back."

"Idk. if this works. but." he hands Ethan the controller and puts his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Ethan untangles the long windy cable wrapped around the controller and plugs it in.

"Hmmm,” Ethan says, holding and releasing the large X button over and over “It's not turning on"

"Bummer." Benny sighs.

"Do ya know what happened to it?"

"Yeah..." He sets himself on Ethan’s couch, rubbing the nape of his neck "All of my stuff kinda got wet since It was pouring from the airport til’ I got home."

"Rough," Ethan unplugs the controller, tilting it around to examine the damage, "I could try fixing it."

"Really?" Benny jumps out of his seat and puts both of his arms on Ethan’s shoulders “You can do that?!”

"I can try,” Ethan says failing to mask his blush, “I've never really done water damage before though."

"Well,” Benny lets go of him. “I mean it's not like you can break it even more."

"You'd be surprised." Ethan looks off to the side, remembering the box of broken electronics rotting on his To Do list. “Here, I have some tools in my room.”

“Woahh tools,” Benny teases, following Ethan up stairs “very manly."

They enter his box filled room.

Benny scoffs. "Haven't finished unpacking but still had your videogames out" he shakes his head.

"Augh hey! Blame Jane, not me."

"Who's jane?"

"Ah my.. half- wait step sister."

Benny impulsively says "Is she hot?"

Ethan’s heart sinks at the comment "She's eight."

"Ah," Benny uncomfortably tugs at his polo collar “Sorry.”

Ethan shakes his head as he scrolls though his phone, pulling up a how to wikia page.

“Hmmm,” he glances over the steps. “Yeah I can totally do this.”

“That's awesome, thank you dude!” Benny cheers looking over his shoulder.

“No problem.” Ethan starts digging through a large brown box labeled TOOLS and pulls out a screwdriver. “Wanna give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, Just tell me what to do!” Benny says positioning himself over the box.

Ethan tries to unscrew the controller's casing, “Ah, it's way too big.”

“That’s what she said.” Benny laughs

Ethan shoots him a very, very judgmental look. “Can you, um, hand me another screwdriver?”

“Of course” He says, replacing the one he was holding with a smaller one.

He tests it and replies “too small”

“That’s what she said…”

“Actually.”

Ethan starts to regret his life choices. “You can just go. Play downstairs or something. I got this.”

Benny pogs “OH MY GOD REALLY?”

“Yeah sure, you seem excited to play it. I don't wanna keep you waiting.”

Benny shakes him “you're the best man!” he practically sprints down stairs, skipping every other step.

Ethan quietly remarks to himself “Of course I get a crush on the first guy I see.”

He shakes his head and finally unscrews the first bolt on the controller's shell.

Benny plops down on Ethan's couch downstairs and scammers for the controller to start up the xbox

Benny's hands shake excitedly watching the xbox logo form on screen.

He puts on the flimsy gray headset.

Right when the xbox menu loads up, he sees a message from one of Ethan’s friends pop up on the screen.

"Xx_420Ror-ster_xX: dude did ur power go out or somethng???”

He then gets a party invite from said user Xx_420Ror-ster_xX

Benny accepts it and joins the call.

"Hey E wuz up?" a squeaky voice asks

Benny stays silent.

"Bro?"

Suddenly he gets a mischievous idea and a stupid smile spreads across his face.

"Muahahahaha! I hacked this account!"

Rory screams in terror. “No!”

“Yes!” Benny coughs, "I really just hacked him so I could play Left for Dead 2. Can you teach me how to play?"

"Why would I play with a hacker like you? I could get banned!!"

"Do it or I'll leak your ip."

They play a few rounds together.

Ethan's dad comes home and is startled to see a lengthy teenage boy sitting in his living room.

“Hello?”

"Hi." Benny says, eyes glued on the screen.

"Um,” He looks around, “why are you in my house?"

"Oh Ethan let me in!"

"Uh, Where's Ethan?"

“Oh, uh he’s in his room.” He says, putting all his attention on the screen in front of him. "Can't. Really. Talk Rn!"

He tilts his head and heads up stairs to Ethan's room.

There Ethan offers his dad a way better explanation.

"Oh he's our next door neighbor and wanted to meet us!"

"Why is he just playing video games downstairs by himself though?"

"Because only one controller works..."

"Alright...” Ethan’s Dad shakes his head “Why didn't he just say that??"

He walks off disgruntled.

After an hour or so, Ethan comes out of his room. Exhausted and tired waving Benny’s now perfectly refurbished, white xbox controller.

"Aw that's great dude!”

Benny has been playing for hours and wants to take a break before he plays with Ethan, they go to the kitchen to snack on grandma’s homemade cookies.

Ethan takes a bite out of one while pouring them a glass of milk and chews on it, trying to mask his disgust.

Benny takes one bite out of it and spits it out.

“Ew you like this stuff?”

“No… I don't,” Ethan puts down the half eaten cookie back on the plate. “I was just trying to be polite.”

“Omg dude don't worry I didn’t even make these,” Benny Laughs “my grandma did.”

“Oh thank god,” He shakes his head, putting the milk back in the fridge "Sooo what do you play?"

"Oh uh I guess mostly Xbox and PC games lik-"

"No no," Ethan cuts him off "I mean like what instrument did you play for your band?"

"Ohh. I played the drums and guitar and i was the lead singer!" he adds on.

"That's sick! Could I hear your stuff?"

"yeah! I can burn a CD for you!"

Suddenly there's a knock at the door, Ethan answers it and its grandma weir!

"Come on lets go Benny its time for dinner."

"Awe come on i didn't even get to play any video games with him yet!"

"But you've been here for hours!"

"Yeah but-"

"Lets go, you can come back later."

"Augh okay" he looks over at Ethan solemnly, heading towards the door.

"Wait,” Ethan stops him, “do you want your controller back?"

"Nah keep it, you fixed it anyways.” He smiles “Thanks for letting me play."

"Hey it's no problem," he holds Benny back a second longer. Trying to find the courage to say "could we play together some time?"

"Oh for sure! How does tomorrow sound?"

"Tomorrow sounds great." Ethan peeps.

[kaiandthestrangespaghetti]

Good Boy (Drabble)

Pairing: Miami Man x F!Reader

Wordcount: 770

Warnings: Mention of period pain, mild hurt/comfort, teasing, oral sex (male receiving), brief allusion to cannibalism (it is The Bad Batch), cuteness, praise kink.

Summary: Miami brings you a gift.

A/N: I’m nearly done with the next proper instalment in the series and thought it’d be fun to do a little drabble about Miami having a bit of a praise kink. He just strikes me as the type who’d f*ck you so hard you forget your name but would also do anything to make you happy cuz he’s a good boy. Non canonical to the main series. x

Tags: @artsy-trash-panda @kamcrazy123

There it was – tangled in a satellite dish which had been rigged on top of a shipping container, fluttering slightly in the breeze like the flag of some nation that didn’t exist.

You passed it quickly on the back of the bike, but you had just long enough to make out what it was; a black silk nightdress, a little tattered but still wearable. Miami glanced up but paid no further attention, your grip tightened around his bare waist as if to signal something. He could read your body language, but you had things to do, and besides, it wasn’t usually a good idea to hang around outside the aircraft boneyard longer than you had to.

When you got back there were chores to do, food to be prepared…if it could be called that.

You went to the wood pile and started working, there wasn’t much but it needed cutting into kindling. Three times you brought the axe down and missed, embedding it in the stump. You’d been unwell the last week – society beyond the fence might have abandoned you but your menstrual cycle certainly hadn’t. It still took you a few days to recover.

Miami’s hand alighted on your shoulder while you tried to prise the axe from the chopping block. He nodded toward the shell of the plane.

“Go lay down.” He uttered softly, brushing the nape of your neck.

The frustration caught you for a moment. You didn’t want to feel useless. But he gave you that serious look.

“Go.” He placed a kiss to the crown of your head.

He took the axe out of the block like it was nothing. No further argument to be had. To be fair, you looked awful. Glancing back you watched him split the wood in a single strike.

You slumped down on the bed inside the plane and sighed. Wriggling out of your old jeans made you think about that silk night dress again. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had soft fabric against your skin. Regardless, you fell asleep easily.

When your eyes opened it was nearly dark, rolling over on your makeshift pillow you felt something smooth touch your cheek.

There it was. The silk soft and delicate between your fingers. Miami had gone and fetched it for you. A warmth spread over your chest, chased rapidly by a thought that made your underwear wet.

The fabric slipped over your curves like water, hanging delicately on your frame. You lay back on the bed just to feel it rub against your back.

Miami stepped into the plane and stopped in the doorway. It was gloomy but you could still see him lick his lip as he paused there.

“Looks good.” He uttered lowly. His hands were still dirty from trying to fix a quad bike somebody had scavenged earlier. His gaze lingered on you a moment before he glanced awkwardly at his hands and disappeared outside to wash them in the water vat.

That made you smile.

When he returned he sat back on the bunk opposite, clicked on the little yellow toned lamp and picked up the book he’d been reading.

You couldn’t help it. You giggled. He turned just slightly, raising an eyebrow at you. You’d known him long enough, you could tell he was rock hard and hiding it, but he wasn’t going to mention it. That just made you love him more.

“Take em’ off.” You said quietly. Now it was your turn to have no argument.

He didn’t move for a second, book still in his hand, chewing his lip. Eventually he closed it carefully with a paper bookmark and stood. The way he towered over you was even more pronounced under the low ceiling, with you lying flat.

The white pants hit the floor and he held his thick cock loosely in his tattooed fingers, almost not daring to stroke himself, even though the muscles in his thick forearm flexed visibly. A tiny bead of precum glinted then spilled down onto his fingertips.

He was thinking about how easy it would be to pull you to the edge of the bed and lift your hips…You could read his mind as his hazel eyes darted to your face…Or slip between your lips, into your eager throat.

You knelt up in front of him, fingers alighting gently on his thighs.

“Good boy...”

Miami’s mouth dropped open a second, knees buckling before locking again.

“Good bo…” The last word was lost as he grasped the back of your hair in his free hand and pushed the entirety of his warm, dripping cock between your soft lips, pumping your mouth with complete control.

His physical dominance over you came easy.

But he never hid the sweet, broken way he whimpered when you called him that.

[taintedcigs]

You should have gone with Eddie, like you normally do. What if he gets angry again? What if he’s upset?  Is that why he sounded so grumpy when you called him last night to remind him that you already made plans? No. He already knew about it since Saturday and he wasn’t mad or upset. OMG I ALREADY FEEL SO SO SAD FOR THE READER. SHE NEEDS TO SPEND SOME ALONE TIME FRFR.

Steve had always intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly to stop you from chewing on your nails. His hold on your hand was more effective anyways when it came to calming your anxiety. STOP STOP. im already gonna start crying. steve centric chapter will get to meKDJFJGH.

Every time you look into his soft eyes, every time you feel his gentle touch, every time you hear his kind words, you wonder why he had been so rough and harsh when you were still his. What changed? Why is he like this now? Why wasn’t he like this back then? UGHHH. i feel for reader so so much. she deserves so much better. AND SHES RIGHT!! WHYSTEVE WHY?!?! u still got a lot to make up for!!!!

“You don’t have to spend your break with me if you don’t want to.” ill seriously cry hes such a pathetic cutie patootie im gonna cry SHE DOES WANT TO SIT W U STEVIE PLSSS.

“Yeah. As friends.” oh uuu little little liar!!!!!

“Nah, I shared it with you, dolly.” im sorry dolly always gets to me in the best way possible im gonna shed so many tears.

She knows that he was looking forward to this. The lunch date with you. Robin can’t let this happen, not when she saw how nervous you looked when you waited for Steve in front of Scoops Ahoy earlier. IM CRYING AT ROBIN COCKBLOCKING BOTH STEVE AND EDDIE SDJFDKH. OH SHE'S A READER X NANCY SHIPPER LIKE ME.

“You keep running away from your feelings, you can’t even freaking face them!” THAT PART. U JUST CALLED ME OUT SO BAD. I ALSO SAID THIS BEFORE BUT I LOVE THIS. ITS SO RELATABLE. ROBIN WANTING SO BADLY TO BE THERE FOR READER AND FEELING SO DESPERATE WHEN SHES SO CLOSED OFF. UGH JUST THE BEST.

“You are so scared of everything and you keep running away from things instead of fighting for them. You loved Steve so much but you let him go so easily–” “Are you blaming me f-for what happened? A-Are you saying it’s my fault that he left me?” Your voice trembles as you speak. NOOOO THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTING. i feel like i kinda get what robin means here, but she could've worded it better!! but i totally get it. because she did kinda run away after everything that happened w steve. which i don't blame her for, but it would've been a tad bit healthier if she confronted it and told steve what she really really felt, i think thats what robin meant by "fighting" too!!

“I saw you with Eddie, at the lake yesterday. I saw the way you looked at him before you pulled away. I saw you with Steve and the way you looked at him.” OH MY GOODDD. WE R GETTING DOWN TO IT. GO ROBIN. GO ROBIN.

“I-I can’t reach happiness, no matter how hard I try to move on. There’s always something. I-I just can’t be happy. I keep ruining everything, Robin. Steve was my best friend a-and we ruined it, we ruined our friendship for a relationship that fucking sucked. He never wanted me, h-he never even loved me. I’m pretty sure he only loved the idea of us being together – despite the things he’s telling me now, I struggle to believe that he loved me. I loved him, I really fucking loved him and losing him hurt so fucking much – even now,” you whisper. I relate. i love our relatable queen reader. just having an existential crisis.

“I-I do.. I have – you’re right,” you stutter, closing your eyes, “you’re right about everything you said and I hate myself for it, Robin. I hate myself so much.” NOOO IM GONNA CRY:(( SHES SO HARD ON HERSELF :(( POOR BB!!!

“You desperately need a girls night, you need to talk to girls! You need to talk about your feelings, cry to your favorite movies and songs, eat sweets, get drunk!” She smiles, squeezing your shoulders, “I know Heather is busy with Argyle but Chrissy and I are here. We should hang out tonight, just the three of us, no boys allowed.”  EXACTLYLKJSDFLKJ IM SO SO HAPPY FOR THIS. SHE NEEDS A GIRLS NIGHT. W GIRLS. CAN WE INVITE NANCY.

OMFG I LOVED THIS CHAPTER ANDYYY, LIKE I SWEAR U R ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON HERE I CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND U DOUBTING YOURSELF BC THIS WAS AMAZING!! SO SO GOOD. I LOVED THE ANGST AND THE SAD PARTS BC EVERYTHING ROBIN SAID WAS LIKE A WARM HUG. UGH JUST FELT LIKE A WARM BLANKET WAS WRAPPED AROUND ME. I LUV IT!!! I CANT WAIT FOR MORE HEHEHE!!!

“Ew, don’t you ever call me that again.” (also i love her so much)

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part twenty three

Warnings: angst, mentions of an ED, mentions of reader not eating, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited love. Not proofread!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: After weeks of staying silent, Robin finally confronts you about your feelings.

Word count: 4k

series masterlist

-

You stare at the tiled ground. Bouncing your knee and chewing on your nails, trying to calm your heart from pounding. The sinking feeling in your chest makes you so anxious. 

You shouldn’t have done this. 

You shouldn’t have offered to spend time with Steve. 

You shouldn’t have offered to go out with him for lunch. 

You should have gone with Eddie, like you normally do. 

What if he gets angry again?

What if he’s upset? 

Is that why he sounded so grumpy when you called him last night to remind him that you already made plans? No. He already knew about it since Saturday and he wasn’t mad or upset. 

Or, maybe he was just better at hiding it this time. He hurt you when he found out about the kiss with Steve. He hurt you and that is something he would never do again. You know it. That is why he kept his feelings to himself this time, right? 

Oh god. 

You really hope that he isn’t angry, hurt or upset. 

The last thing you want to do is hurt Eddie. 

You flinch in surprise when a large hand takes hold of your wrist. You look up with wide eyes, about to pull your hand back when you lock eyes with Steve. Your shoulders slump in relief and you take in a deep, shaky breath. You look down at his hand, still wrapped around your wrist. 

“Don’t do that,” he says as he softly pulls your hand away from your lips, looking down at your freshly manicured nails, “you’re gonna ruin your nails.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. 

Steve had always intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly to stop you from chewing on your nails. His hold on your hand was more effective anyways when it came to calming your anxiety. 

His hazel eyes scan your face, he notices the worry etched in your beautiful features. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, stepping closer to you, “are you okay?” 

His soft voice, his kind eyes and his words are almost so foreign. It’s been almost a year since your relationship ended and yet, you get taken back to it every time you’re with him. 

Every time you look into his soft eyes, every time you feel his gentle touch, every time you hear his kind words, you wonder why he had been so rough and harsh when you were still his. What changed? Why is he like this now? Why wasn’t he like this back then? 

Even in the beginning, when he was so good to you, he still wasn’t this gentle with you. 

“Y-Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re chewing on your nails. You always used to do it when you were anxious.”

He can see the way your eyes flash with surprise and the way your brows furrow in confusion. 

Did you really think that he forgot anything about you?

“Oh, I uh, I’m fine.”

He scans your face. You’re lying, he knows it.

You look both nervous and anxious and a part of him fears that he is the cause of it. 

“You don’t have to spend your break with me if you don’t want to.” 

“What? No! No, it’s not that. I want to.. I want to spend time with you. I-I mean, we’re friends, we can just hang out together,” you shrug, trying to give him a smile, “as friends, right?” 

He smiles. You’re blushing and smiling nervously. It’s cute. 

“Yeah. As friends.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence between you both. You stare at each other, neither of you making a move. You just stare at each other as he is still holding your wrist. For a brief second, he looks down at it, he loosens his grip around your wrist, letting his fingers glide down your knuckles and your ringed fingers. The urge to just take your hand and never let it go is so strong. 

He lets it go, raising his hand to run it through his hair, he takes a deep breath. 

“So, what do you want to eat?” He asks, looking around the crowded mall. 

You shrug. 

“I’ll have whatever you want.”

He furrows his brows when he looks back at you. 

“Is that so?” He asks, amused. “You always used to fight about where we should eat.”

A smile pulls at your lips, you nudge his shoulder, shaking your head at him. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not,” you mumble, rolling your eyes with a smile on your face. 

“So if I say let’s get KFC, you will say yes?” 

A laugh falls from your lips. 

“Of course you want KFC.”

He raises his brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He chuckles.

You lick your lips, looking at the passing people before you lock your eyes with him again. You nudge his shoulder with yours as you start walking. 

“That’s like all you ever wanted to eat, Steve.”

“Yeah and that’s something you never wanted to eat,” he chuckles, “all you ever got was fries. Or mashed potatoes.”

“Well, the mashed potatoes are really good– oh, sometimes I stole your chicken though.”

“Nah, I shared it with you, dolly.”

You feel a pang in your chest. One that makes you swallow harshly, biting back the bitterness on your tongue. You try to leave the pain in the past but every time he says something that reminds you of your past with him, you feel the same pain all over again. 

The same pain that you have felt when he flirted with others. The same pain that you have felt when he started ditching you for her. The same pain that you have felt on the awful night he had broke your heart and everything that came after that. 

You look down with a smile on your face, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes. 

You don’t want him to see how much you are still hurting. He can’t see. He can’t know. Not when you want this to work out. Not when you want to give your friendship a second chance. 

You know that this might be a bad idea. 

Spending time with him. Being alone with him. Letting him back into your life like this but, he just means too much to you to just let him become a stranger again. 

You can be friends again, without wanting more, right? 

You know that you can do it, but can he? 

Can Steve accept being just a friend? 

A part of you thinks that he can’t. He had proven it a few times already, that he can’t be just a friend. It’s in the way he looks at you, it’s in the way he touches you, it’s in the way he says your name, it’s in the way he kissed you. 

But you want it to work out. You want him in your life. You want him to be your friend again. 

“Hey guys! Wait up for me!” 

You and Steve halt in your tracks, both turning around to see Robin rushing towards you both. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Steve mumbles under his breath. 

“Aaron told me to take the break with you,” she smirks at Steve, who rolls his eyes at her. 

She knows that he was looking forward to this. The lunch date with you. Robin can’t let this happen, not when she saw how nervous you looked when you waited for Steve in front of Scoops Ahoy earlier.

She squeezes herself in the middle, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. 

“Let’s get some fries, girl.” 

A smile appears on your face, a look of relief flashing in your eyes, which makes her feel better about intervening. 

‘Sorry, Steve.’ She thinks to herself. 

-

Robin’s eyes roam your face. Her brows are knit together as she watches you. 

You’re sitting across from her, playing with the fries on your plate that you have only eaten half of. There’s a troubled look in your eyes, you are chewing on your bottom lip, blinking as you stare down at your lap. 

Steve is rambling, talking about some horror story Dustin had most likely made up while sipping on his Dr. Pepper. She isn’t really listening, too busy trying to figure you out. 

She wonders what you’re thinking about for you to look so.. sad. 

She needs to talk to you. She can’t wait till the summer is over. She needs to talk to you and she knows that you need to talk about it as well. 

“Hey Steve?” She turns towards him, interrupting his rambling, “can you get me something?” 

He sighs in annoyance. 

“What?”

She shakes her empty cup, giving him a hopeful smile, “another sprite?” 

He rolls his eyes at her but he stands up from his seat, “you’re lucky I like you.” 

She snorts. 

He gathers the empty boxes on the table, placing them all on the food tray. He looks down at you and the food you didn’t finish, “are you not gonna eat that, y/n?” 

Finally, you look up. 

You look lost, staring at him with a frown as though you don’t understand what he means. 

“The fries,” he mumbles, pointing at your tray. 

You look down, shaking your head, “n-no, I’m not very hungry,” you say, reaching for the drink as you look back up, “I had a big breakfast.”

He frowns, knowing that there’s no truth behind your words. There’s not much he can do about it though. Steve had worried about you and your wellbeing from the day his parents pointed out the changes in you. Ever since then, he had watched you closely, feeling more helpless than ever as there was nothing that he could do to help. 

He swallows, looking down sadly, he reaches for your tray, “alright. Do you want anything else?” 

“No, thanks,” you smile, shaking your head. 

He nods, giving you a smile back before he walks away, leaving you and Robin to yourselves. 

You wrap your lips around the plastic straw, looking out the window, you watch the people at the food court as you take a sip of your sweet drink. Unaware of Robin’s concerned eyes on you. 

Your eyes fall on the three teenage girls sitting by the big water fountain. The one in the middle is holding a magazine, reading something to her friends who are giggling at whatever she is telling them. One of them is wearing a green scrunchie on her wrist, it’s similar to the one you used to have. You don’t know where it went, it must’ve disappeared in one of yours or his drawers. 

She nudges your foot under the table, speaking your name softly. 

You tear your gaze away from them, raising your brows in question when you see the look on Robin’s face. The sad frown. 

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” 

She looks around, leaning closer after taking a deep breath. 

“Are you okay?” 

For a moment, there is nothing but silence between the two of you. She takes in the look of your face, watching the way your features twist into confusion. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

The feeling of the weight crashing from your chest into your stomach, suddenly makes you feel sick. You don’t know why her words affect you the way they do but, the longer you look at her and the longer you watch the concerned look in her eyes, you feel like crying. 

You blink, hoping that no tears will well up in your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment of hesitation. 

Her shoulders slump and she sighs. She doesn’t have to say it out loud for you to know that she doesn’t believe you. 

“Why?” 

Robin takes a deep breath, leaning back in her seat, she raises her hands towards her face, running her fingers through her hair. 

“Y-You’re just, you’re not – can I be honest with you?”

You cross your arms over your chest, nodding, “always.”

“Okay,” she nods, sighing. “You’re different.”

“What?”

“You’re acting weird. You’re not yourself.” 

You straighten your back, leaning closer to the table, “what do you mean?” You frown. 

“Ever since that stupid date with that asshole, you have been acting weird, which is totally understandable considering what happened b-but, you were doing so good before that, you were moving on from Steve, you were doing better every day a-and after that night, you just, it’s like, you took ten steps back. And, I promise, I’m not judging you but I’m really fucking worried about you.” 

You’re a little taken aback. You didn’t expect this. 

“W-What?” You chuckle, nervously. 

“Just when you were getting better all this shit hits the fan!” 

You furrow your brows at her. 

“You’re not eating,” she points to the now empty table, “you’re friends with Steve again – which hey, I get now cause it turns out that Steve Harrington is actually a pretty nice dude now that he’s.. changed,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “B-But, you two kissed not too long ago and that upset Eddie which in turn upset you when he found out and acted like a total brat a-and��� god!” She pulls at her hair, groaning in annoyance as she takes a deep breath again, “you should be focusing on yourself but you’re stuck between Steve who you are still very much in love with, obviously. And Eddie, who’s clearly more than just–”

Before she can even finish the sentence, you jump up from your seat out of sheer panic, slamming your drink on the table before you rush out of the restaurant, leaving Robin to  sit by herself. 

She calls out your name, throwing her hands up. She knows what you’re doing, you are trying to run away, but she won’t let you. 

She curses under her breath, pushing herself up from her seat and rushes out. 

It’s 1pm on a Monday, the mall isn’t very crowded, yet she needs a moment to find you. She squints her eyes, looking around for you. 

“God damnit, girl,” she mumbles. 

You’re fast, she’s gotta give you that. Every time you run away from something or someone, you make a quick escape and disappear into thin air. She keeps looking around until she finds you walking into the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. 

She follows you, catching up with you just before you walk into the bathroom. She wraps her hand around her wrist, pulling you back, softly. 

“Y/n.” 

You flinch, pulling your hand out of her grasp as you turn around to face her. 

“Leave me alone, Robin.” 

“No!” She shakes her head, grabbing your shoulders when you try to leave again, she slams you against the wall, keeping her hands on your shoulders. “I’m not letting you run away again – that’s what you keep doing, by the way, if you haven’t noticed. You run away from everything, y/n!” 

“T-That’s not true,” you mumble. 

“Yes it is.” 

You try to hide the fact that her words felt like a punch to your gut. 

“You keep running away from your feelings, you can’t even freaking face them!”

Your jaw clenches. You feel the anger bubbling inside of your chest. 

“You can’t even admit to them!” 

You know she is talking about him and it’s making your heart race. 

She’s right, you don’t want to face them, you want to keep running, hoping that they won’t catch up to you, hoping that they won’t ruin yet another good thing in your life. 

“Stop.”

She can’t see the tears in your eyes because you’re looking down, hiding them. 

“I know you have feelings for Ed–”

“Stop it, Robin!” You yell, trying to hide how nervous you are. 

She finally lets go of you and she takes a step back, eyeing you up and down with a shake of her head. She loves you, you’ve become one of her closest friends. She cares about you and your feelings, but she can’t stand watching you make yourself suffer. 

It wasn’t Ray who did this to you. He only triggered the feelings that have been inside of you already. You let the walls of lies crumble down the moment he touched them. You have never been okay, not even when you started to look okay. You were struggling, you were always struggling, even with Steve.

You are scared, that’s why you keep running instead of fighting for the things that you love. 

“You’re a coward.”

Another punch to your gut. 

The coil in your throat tightens and you swallow down harshly before you raise your head to look at her. You almost expect her to look at you in anger and disgust but instead you find the look of pity in her eyes. 

Tears well up in your eyes, your bottom lip trembles the longer you look at her. 

“You are so scared of everything and you keep running away from things instead of fighting for them. You loved Steve so much but you let him go so easily–”

You scoff, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Are you blaming me f-for what happened? A-Are you saying it’s my fault that he left me?” Your voice trembles as you speak. 

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, raising her hands up, “no! N-No, that’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what are you saying, Robin? Cause it sounds like you’re blaming me for the break up!” 

“I-I just mean that you let him go! You let him go even though you loved him to death! I’m not saying that he deserved you to fight for him because he really didn’t deserve it at all – this is about you, not him. You loved him and you didn’t bother to even demand real answers, you just let him go because you were scared of the real answers, you were scared of the confrontation, you were scared because you gave him so much and it still wasn’t enough b-but I know that you wanted to fight for him, I fucking know it and you know it too.”

The mask is slipping and you are forced to show how much you are struggling. 

“You ignore everything around you because you’re scared!” 

“N-No.”

“You never show how you really feel.”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stop it from trembling. You shake your head. 

“You keep lying. You keep lying to yourself and to everyone around you.” 

A flush creeps up your face, your heartbeat quickens. You feel both ashamed and scared. You thought you were good at hiding it, your feelings. 

“No,” you lie, again. 

“Y/n,” she sighs, giving you a sad look. 

“You aren’t lying?” 

You shake your head. 

“Alright, well, if you aren’t lying then tell me why you’re not eating or why you stopped talking to me about how you feel – cause at some point you used to talk to me.” 

Your shoulders fall and you close your eyes when you can no longer hold the tears back. 

She is right. 

She is right about everything. 

You lean against the wall behind you, trying to wipe away the tears subtly. 

“I saw you with Eddie, at the lake yesterday. I saw the way you looked at him before you pulled away. I saw you with Steve and the way you looked at him.”

“Robin..”

“No, don’t ‘Robin’ me!” She throws her hands up, “I’m sick of you pushing me away because you think that I will judge you and your feelings for them! I’m your friend, y/n. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for you, I’m here to listen, I’m here to talk, I’m here to help so please, please let me help you because I’m going insane watching you being so hard on yourself!” 

What did you do to deserve her? 

You are so sick of your feelings. 

You are so sick of falling in love and ruining everything because of it. 

You are so sick of setting yourself up for failure. 

You look back at her, bouncing your knee as you look at her through your tears. 

Her eyes soften when she sees how much you are struggling. She takes a step closer. “I’m here, y/n, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise. You can talk to me, about anything.” 

How can you talk about your feelings when you refuse to acknowledge them? 

How can you talk about something that you don’t want to accept?

“I-I just, why does this keep happening to me?” 

Robin’s heart breaks at the sound of your shaky voice. 

“What do you mean, y/n?” 

You swallow the coil in your throat and raise your hand, wiping your tears in annoyance. 

“I-I can’t reach happiness, no matter how hard I try to move on. There’s always something. I-I just can’t be happy. I keep ruining everything, Robin. Steve was my best friend a-and we ruined it, we ruined our friendship for a relationship that fucking sucked. He never wanted me, h-he never even loved me. I’m pretty sure he only loved the idea of us being together – despite the things he’s telling me now, I struggle to believe that he loved me. I loved him, I really fucking loved him and losing him hurt so fucking much – even now,” you whisper.

And for the first time, Robin sees how much pain there actually is, how much pain you have been hiding all these months. It’s in your eyes, it’s in your voice, it’s surrounding you. 

“I thought befriending Steve would numb the pain,” you breathe, closing your eyes to take a deep breath, “but I still love him.”

Her gaze softens, she scrunches her face up, watching the way you try so hard not to break down. 

“A-And Eddie,” your voice cracks and for a brief moment, you look up at the ceiling, trying to calm your breathing. 

Robin looks down.  

“I-I do.. I have – you’re right,” you stutter, closing your eyes, “you’re right about everything you said and I hate myself for it, Robin. I hate myself so much.”

Robin’s large sad eyes don’t make it any easier for you. 

She whispers your name, sadly. Not hesitating to pull you into a hug and wrapping her arms around you tightly. 

“Don’t say that,” she whispers. 

You don’t say anything, you just close your eyes and hug her back. 

“I ruin everything with my feelings–”

“No, you don’t. It’s not your fault, y/n. It’s not your fault, okay?”  

She listens to your sniffles, she feels the way your body is shaking as you try to keep the sobs in. 

A part of her feels guilty for being the trigger of all of this but the other part knows that this is what you needed. 

You need to talk about your feelings.

You need to let yourself feel. 

“You know what you need?” 

“Therapy?” You joke even though there’s tears rolling down your face. 

“Yeah that too but that’s not what I was gonna say.”

You pull away from the hug, chuckling at her words. 

“You desperately need a girls night, you need to talk to girls! You need to talk about your feelings, cry to your favorite movies and songs, eat sweets, get drunk!” She smiles, squeezing your shoulders, “I know Heather is busy with Argyle but Chrissy and I are here. We should hang out tonight, just the three of us, no boys allowed.” 

“I haven’t seen Eddie today though.”

“Oh my god,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes, “you know what? He’ll survive one day without you and you will too, like I said, you need a girls night.” 

“Girls night,” you nod, trying to give her a smile. 

“Yeah, now let's get you into the bathroom, you look like a racoon with your mascara running down like that.” 

You raise your hand to wipe it away but she stops you. 

“No, you’re gonna make it worse! Go,” she gestures to the bathroom, pushing you towards it. 

“Okay, mom.”

“Ew, don’t you ever call me that again.”

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @hellfire--cult @littledemondani @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan