#did banana flow will never

[fedoras-stuff]

replying to someone else btw

2 things that plague my mind all day but combined

[moirasdolly]

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Princess Treatment ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟSevika x Fem Reader

Synopsis: How can Sevika focus on a word you’re saying when your lips just look so kissable? She just wants to take you home and spoil you…

Contains: NSFW (minors and men dni), biting, lots of hickies, sevika eats reader out, strap on sex mwahhh, reader gets princess treatment

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: The Party & The After Party - The Weeknd

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long T^T, I’ve been really struggling with writing and I’m not even confident or necessarily happy with this either. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless <\3 I totally didn’t write this because i’m projecting (I want Sevika so bad)

Your sweet voice that flowed from between your lips like syrup were all Sevika could even think about as you sat in her lap at The Last Drop. Her flesh arm wrapped tenderly around your waist and the mechanical one draped across the bar counter, shielding you from any drunkard who might bump into you. Even though it was already winding down and there were few patrons left in the bar, she would never leave you exposed. She didn’t retain a single word you were speaking though, she was too focused on the tone of your voice, the way your hands flailed wildly as you explained whatever story you were telling, and most importantly your perfectly pouty lips.

Thieram stood behind the counter listening intently, nodding his head at every little detail of your story along with Ran who would throw out a comment every so often. “…and you would not believe it… I slipped on a banana peel!” You could barely even get through your sentence without breaking out into a fit of giggles. You buried your face in your hands, tears threatening to spill over because of your laughter. The laughter of the whole group snapped Sevika out of her daze and she forced out a chuckle at your antics. It wasn’t that she didn’t find your story interesting, she just couldn’t help but get lost in your whole being.

You picked up on her behavior and shot her a look over your shoulder. You furrowed your brows gently and your lips fell into a little frown as you looked into her gray eyes. She looked up at you through her lashes as apologetically as she could before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. You’d let it slide for now, but when you got home you’d be sure to question her.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, and Sevika made sure to actually contribute to the conversations. You had almost forgotten about her earlier slip up, until the same thing happened again. You were mid sentence when you noticed Sevika hadn’t said anything for the longest time, but her grip was beginning to tighten on you. Her arm had moved slightly lower to wrap around your hip instead, her large hand mindlessly rubbed small circles into the flesh exposed by your shorts. Your words faltered at her touch and you fumbled over your sentence. Your hand rested over her own before gliding it down to rest on your thigh instead. You kept a watchful eye on her to make sure she didn’t try anything before the night was over.

Unfortunately, it was getting late and everyone was growing tired. You four were the only other ones in the bar since it was pretty late into the night. Thieram didn’t want to kick you guys out, but he did have to close up the bar sooner or later.  “It was nice seeing everyone again! Maybe next time we could play a few rounds of pool?” You planted your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side slightly awaiting an answer from your close friends. “Only if you plan to lose.” Ran quipped back. You feigned disbelief, raising a hand to your chest and gasping. “You’ll be eating your words Ran, remember this moment.”

This got a real chuckle out of Sevika this time. She slid her flesh arm around your waist and tugged you closer to her. “I bet on my princess, sorry Ran.” They dismissed the rest of the group with a wave of their hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” It was all lighthearted though, you saw the corner of their lips tug up into a smile before turning to make their leave. Now it was just Thieram, Sevika and yourself outside of the bar. The young man bid you farewell before stepping back inside the establishment for his closing duties.

A comfortable silence settled over you as you began the walk back to your shared home. Now that it was just the two of you alone though, you wanted to prod her about her seemingly not paying attention to you. “Sev… How come you weren’t listening to a word I said tonight?” You tried to keep the pout off your lips, you really did, but you were kind of irritated with her. Sevika looked like a deer caught in headlights, like she didn’t quite know how to explain herself. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for her to talk. “I’m not moving ‘til you tell me.” You knew you were being stubborn, but you thought you deserved an explanation. If there was something on her mind, you wanted to know.

The older woman could most definitely overpower you to keep you walking, but instead she stopped the moment you did. Her arm was still wrapped around your waist but she turned to face you. You were staring up at her with those big, beautiful eyes of yours and she couldn’t help but get lost in your features. You were feeling shy under her gaze, your cheeks flushing uncontrollably. She brought her flesh hand up to your face, gripping your chin between her thumb and index finger gently. “Princess, I’m sorry you’re just too beautiful. I was so mesmerized by your sweet voice I could barely process what you were saying tonight.” Well you couldn’t be mad at that explanation.

“I was just thinking about how much more sweet you’d sound under me, begging for more.” She angled your head up slightly higher before capturing your lips in a kiss that was far too quick for your liking. When she parted from you, you tried to chase after her lips eagerly just wanting to feel her against you again. “Why don’t we get home first?” She murmured. All previous thoughts you had were no longer present and instead all you could think about was getting home as quickly as possible. You nodded slowly and you two continued down the path to home.

Your home wasn’t the closest to The Last Drop and your legs were getting tired, but you didn’t want to complain. Your pace was beginning to slow, the shoes you had decided on were not the most comfortable, but you weren't thinking about the walk home when you chose your attire for the night. The gentlewoman that Sevika was, had noticed your discomfort and scooped you up into her arms. No matter how many times she did it, it made you gasp still. “Sevi!” You wrapped your arms around her neck as an automatic response and she just chuckled. “I can’t have my princess feeling tired before we even get home.”

The implications of that were enough to make your cheeks flush again, and you were practically buzzing in her arms with anticipation.

The rest of the walk home was filled with sweet idle conversation, although it was mostly you rambling away like always while Sevika listened intently. She couldn’t get enough of you and your honeyed tone.

Your shared home was slowly coming into view and you huffed prematurely, knowing she’d have to set you down to get the door open. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get this door open, but you’ll be in my arms again in no time.” Your feet hit the ground for the first time in a while, but you felt well rested thanks to your thoughtful girlfriend.

“Thank you baby.” You drew out the pet name as she opened the door, whisking you inside before locking it behind you. Before you could even get another word out you were in her strong arms once more. Her flesh arm cradled your back and her mechanical arm hooked under your thighs as she carried you bridal style to the bedroom. Your sweet giggles filled Sevika’s ears as she planted about a dozen soft kisses all over your face.

The next time you were put down you felt fuzzy blankets beneath your body as you sank into the bed. Sevika propped herself up with her mechanical arm and snuck her knee between your thighs gently, chuckling at your eagerness to feel her when you squeezed your legs around her limb. Her gray eyes peered down at you, heavy lidded with lust and adoration for you, her perfect, angelic sweetheart. “Fuck, I wish you could see just how beautiful you look under me right now.” Her gray, puppy dog eyes met your own and you couldn’t take it anymore. The way they glimmered down at you made you want her even more. You snaked your arms around her neck and tugged her down to meet your lips in a heated kiss.

Your tongue swiped over her bottom lip briefly before prodding into her mouth. If you weren’t listening so intently you would have missed the tiny groan that emanated from her throat. You wanted to hear more, so with all your strength you pushed her to the side and flipped your positions. Sevika definitely let you, otherwise you would have stayed snuggly under her due to the difference in strength.

Your legs rested on either side of her hips and your head dipped down to her jaw to press several feather light kisses to her skin. Whatever was left of your pink lipgloss transferred to her jawline and you loved how your kiss marks looked on her tanned skin. 

She was enjoying your kisses even more than you though. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were fluttering shut every so often to bask in the feeling. The next time your plump lips met her skin, it was on the tender patch of skin in the middle of her throat. You placed one kiss, two kisses, and on the third one you sucked a small bruise into her skin. Her deep moans vibrated on your lips and you felt like you couldn’t get enough of her. “Baby I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” She chuckled in between moans.

Those soft lips of yours curled into a smile as you peered down at all your hard work. Her neck was littered with evidence of your affection. Dark purples and reds were blooming all across the expanse of her supple skin. “You can do whatever you want to me… just let me have my fun first.” You whispered into her ear, your teeth nipping her lobe.

“Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”

What you wanted to do was leave her neck completely covered in love bites, so that she’d have to wear turtlenecks out for the next two weeks. And you were on the right track for that. Sevika would never admit it out loud, even though you’ve witnessed it before, but just being kissed and bitten by you was enough for her to cum in her pants. She got off on how desperate you were to mark her and show everyone she was yours just as much as you were hers.

You slipped your hands under her cropped shirt, sliding it up her toned stomach. Her breasts sprang free and you adjusted yourself lower on her body to give them soft kisses before taking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her breathing grew heavier as you sucked little bruises into her breasts. Little grunts and sighs escaped her lips and a devilish idea presented itself to you. You nipped her nipple with your teeth as you kneaded her other breast softly. You began grinding on her, the friction felt unbelievably good for the both of you. Her body was growing taut at the sensation and in no time you had her cumming with a string of moans.

“Fuck, princess your mouth is heaven on earth…” She trailed off after taking a deep breath. 

You tried containing your smile, but you felt rather accomplished for making her cum with nothing but your mouth on her. “You’re so sensitive, who knew that’s all it would take.”

“Well it’s easy to give in when I have the most beautiful woman in the world sitting on top of me.” Her charming words made your heart melt and you couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her for the millionth time. Unfortunately for you, the kiss was cut short by Sevika pulling away.

“I think it’s time to spoil my baby.”

Her flesh arm flipped you over, your back hitting the bed as she caged you underneath her broad body. A squeal escaped your lips at the sudden move and Sevika ate up your little noises as she captured your lips in a fervent kiss. Your hands instantly found purchase on her muscular shoulders as you tried to pull her closer. Her mechanical hand had a bruising grip on your hip, and the sting felt delicious. Her flesh hand was gentle, a complete contrast. She held your face like you were made of glass, her thumb caressing your blushed cheek. 

As much as she loved kissing your perfect, plump lips, she wanted her mouth on your body too. She took the hem of your shirt in between her fingers and ripped it off of you. No time was wasted as she unclasped your bra as well, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her lips trailed heated kisses down your jaw, across your throat, and all across your chest. Dark lipstick was littered across your whole upper body, and it was almost making the older woman malfunction. If she could, she’d take a picture and keep it in her wallet. You were the epitome of beauty to her always, but in that moment you looked like an angel, all sprawled out for her with her marks all over you.

“Sevika… Don’t just look, touch me. Please…” You whined softly, if you weren’t so turned on you’d cringe at how needy you sounded.

She shot you a toothy grin, “I know baby, let’s get these off of you.” She tugged at the waistband of your little shorts, pulling them down your thighs, and fully off your legs. Next were the lacy panties you knew Sevika liked. She pressed a kiss to the little bow in the center of your panties before discarding those as well. The cold air hit your body and you shivered at the feeling. 

“Come warm me up, Sevi.” 

That’s all she needed to hear before hiking your thighs up on her shoulders before delving into your glistening cunt. She gave your clit a quick kiss before flattening her tongue against you.You mewled at the sensation of her thick, long tongue brushing against your aching clit. She had barely even touched you and you already felt a familiar feeling building in your stomach. Your body was something she knew eerily well, she knew all the spots that made you tick, the pressure that made you see stars, and just the way to swirl her tongue to make you clench those beautiful thighs around her head.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, my sweetheart.” 

She lapped at your cunt like she was drunk on the taste of you. Her tongue slipped into you, deep. Reaching places only she could. Your thighs clamped down around her head, and that’s exactly where she wanted to be, buried between the soft flesh.

She was relentless when you came with a long string of filthy moans of her name. It just spurred her on even more until you were twitching under her, feeling overstimulated. When she came up for air, she licked her lips which were slick with your release. Her eyes met your own as she wiped her mouth before leaning to kiss down your thighs once more. Her tongue ghosted over your sensitive flesh before she moved away to let you recover for a moment.

Your body laid limp on the bed as Sevika rubbed small circles on your waist to bring you back to earth. “Can you give me another, princess?” Her flesh hand found its way to your face again, her thumb slipping past your lips. You nodded your head slowly, your hazy eyes finding hers.

“Words baby.” She reminded you.

“Yes, Sevi. I can take it.” Your voice was muffled slightly by her digit, but it was clear you wanted whatever she’d give you. 

She slipped off the bed to retrieve her strap, slipping into the black harness that made your mouth water. The bed dipped under her weight as she climbed onto the bed once more, returning to her rightful place between your legs again. If Sevika was one thing in bed, it was appreciative. She took in your beautiful form inch by inch, her eyes scanning your body like it was a piece of art. Her demeanor was rough and mean with everyone and if you were honest, it turned you on completely. But she wasn’t like that with you, she treated you with care as if you were made of porcelain. Her touches were tender, making your comfort her highest regard. You truly were her princess

The tip of her silicone length rested against your soaked pussy, and you knew she wasn’t trying to tease, but you just wished she’d move. You bucked your hips with what energy you had left to receive a bit of friction, and all Sevika could do was chuckle at how needy you were. She took your movements as a sign to guide the dark purple length into you. Calloused hands guided your plush thighs to wrap around her waist gently. You squeezed your thighs around her as she disappeared into you little by little.

Her eyes trailed down to where you two were connected before trailing back up to look into your hazy eyes. Your lashes were lined with crystalline tears, collecting like little dewdrops on your lashes. 

“You’re taking me so good, sweetheart.” Sevika rasped, leaning down to kiss away your tears. “D’ya think you can handle me moving?”

A lewd whimper left your lips, and you didn’t quite trust your voice to not crack when you spoke. The best you could muster out was a little, “Please.” 

God, you sounded so blissed out, it was taking every bone in the older woman’s body to not fuck you silly into the mattress. She started with slow and controlled rolls of her hips into your cunt. You wrapped your arms around her broad back, pulling her flush against you. You couldn’t help but press soft kisses onto the little bruises you created on her from earlier. She sucked in a breath as you kissed a particularly sore spot. You let your teeth graze her neck, nipping at her ever so slightly.

Her hips stuttered initially as you bit her, but she picked up her movement, moving faster than before. Soft grunts were amplified in your ears and it was almost all you could focus on. If it weren’t for the thick toy being stuffed into you, you would have said something about the noises she was making. Her huffs vibrated against your ear lobe and on a particularly deep thrust she moaned like she could feel your cunt clenching around the toy.

“Baby you’re squeezing me so hard, so perfect.” She just couldn’t keep her hands to herself either. One hand rested on your waist and the other trailed down your stomach to your clit. She rubbed slow circles on your already sensitive clit and you couldn’t take it. The feeling of her quick, deep thrusts along with the additional stimulation was sending you reeling. 

You were just putty in her hands, babbling nonsense that resembled her name and various curse words. You couldn’t even hold your head up anymore, instead letting it hit the soft pillows beneath you. Sevika took the chance to kiss up your neck slowly, paying attention to every bit of exposed skin she could get to. By now her lipstick was already rubbed off, but you could still feel every mark she left on you. You wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

“Fuck!” You squealed out as she snapped her hips into you at an even more brutal pace. “‘M so close Sevi!” You could barely form a full sentence the way she was ruining you. Without warning your body stiffened and you were cumming. She didn’t slow down though, she kept her pace up as you twitched around her thick length. She pushed herself up from where she was trailing kisses all over your neck to see the rest of you. Your lips were plump and parted, lewd whimpers falling from them like that’s all you knew how to do. Your hair was messy, neck filled with bruises to match her own, and your chest was full of lipstick marks. You were completely hers, and you had the marks to prove it too.

Her eyes trailed down to where you were taking her so well, “Look at how it disappears baby, you were made for me.” Her words were filthy, and her eyes were full of lust as she saw the creamy white ring forming around the base of the toy.

Your brows furrowed as you began to feel overstimulated once more, and Sevika being the attentive woman she was, took it as a sign to slow down. Eventually she slid out of you, and you sighed at the empty feeling. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to catch your breath. Sevika pressed soft little kisses to both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally a quick one to your lips, not wanting to tire you out anymore than you already were. “You did so good for me, princess.” She whispered into your ear as she brought her flesh hand to cup your face.

“Gonna clean you up now, is that okay?” 

You nodded slowly, your eyes still shut as she untangled herself from between your thighs to clean herself up and retrieve a washcloth for you. When she returned she was in a fresh pair of pajamas and her hair was down. You opened your eyes to take in the sight when you heard her footsteps again. “So cute.” You whispered with a giggle. To everyone in Zaun she was a scary lady, but to you she was your sweet girlfriend who wore big t-shirts and fuzzy pajama bottoms to bed. She just shook her head with a soft smile and settled onto the edge of the bed near your legs. You spread your legs for her and she wiped the inside of your thighs and your sensitive folds. A sigh slipped past your lips and she planted a kiss on your lips as she cleaned every last bit of you. “All clean…” She tossed the washcloth somewhere in the room, she’d put it in the wash tomorrow.

It wasn’t that Sevika wanted to see you in her clothes… of course not! She just wanted you to be warm, that’s all. That’s what she told herself as she slipped one of her sleep shirts over your head. Her heart melted when you poked your head out of the opening of the shirt and met her eyes. She couldn’t resist giving you another kiss. You smiled against her lips before she pulled back to slip a pair of your panties up your thighs and up onto your hips.

The moment you were clothed you dove under the covers, waving a lazy hand to make Sevika join you. Once she did you clung to her tightly, tucking your head under her chin to rest on her chest. Her warm body heated you up, and your eyes fluttered shut. “You sleepy, baby?” Sevika asked even though she already knew the answer.

You hummed a noncommittal noise, just opting to burrow closer to Sevika if that was even possible.

“I tired you out today huh…” 

When she got no response from you she kissed the top of your head and let her eyes shut slowly too. Sleep came easy to her when she had her princess wrapped up in arms.

[kpop---scenarios]

Reckless (1)

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Genre: Brothers best friend

Warning: Language, a little violence etc, smut later on

Word Count: 3k

“Jisung!” You yell from your room, covering your ears with your pillow. If he didn't shut the fuck up, you were going to lose it. “Jisung!” You scream again. Angrily, you crawl out of your bed, stomping your way across the hallway to his room. You try to open the door but the door is locked. You pound on the door, anger flowing through you.

“Open the door!” You yell, pounding even harder. Finally the door swings open, your brother looking annoyed.

“The fuck do you want?” He asks, rubbing his face.

“I have an exam tomorrow. I can't sleep with the fucking music coming from your room.” You yell. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Wear some headphones then.” Jisung scoffs.

“I swear to fucking..” you pause, as Jisungs best friends comes to the door.

“Feeling feisty tonight, are we?” Minho chuckles, moving past your brother and out of his room.

“Yeah I am, watch out.” You snap, stomping back to your room, slamming the door behind you.

Your parents had been gone for months for work, and unfortunately for you Jisung had decided to slack off at school despite school only being in for 3 months. He was partying constantly and having his degenerate friends over at the house all the time. Lee Know, or Minho was the worst of them all and he never fucking left.

He was an arrogant, annoying, selfish, violent, short tempered man who you disliked the most out of all Jisung’s friends. The two of them were a few years older than you, both supposed to be in University but the way things were currently going, you didn't know how much longer either of them were going to be enrolled. You however were in your first year at the same University and you were not going to take your opportunity for granted. You wanted to get out of this town and move away onto bigger and better things.

As the volume of the music is finally lowered, you get comfortable in your bed, easily falling asleep, finally.

The next morning you're up early, deciding payback was much needed for keeping you up half the night. As you're hopping around your room, singing along to your loud music, getting ready for class, you faintly hear a pounding on your door. You laugh to yourself as you make your way, ripping the door open, seeing an annoyed Minho standing there, shirtless with a pair of sweats on.

“It's 7am.” He deadpans.

“And?” You ask.

“I've been sleeping for 2 hours.” He groans. “Turn it down.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” you begin. “Also, last I checked, this isn't your house.” You smile, closing the door in his face before he can say anything. You head to your stereo, turning the music down, for a few minutes until you felt like he was comfortable in bed again, starting to doze off and you turned it up again. Not long after you turned it off completely, heading to the kitchen to grab a banana before you headed to the bus stop. You wanted to get to school a little earlier than usual, taking time to go over your psychology notes for your exam, one last time.

“Y/N.” You hear from behind you in the library. You turn around, seeing your best friend, Hyunjin, standing there with bags under his eyes, holding a mass amount of papers, and looking extremely uneasy.

“Hyunjin.. what happened?” You ask, trying not to laugh at the poor man looking so defeated.

“it's literally the 3rd month of school, and I'm going to fucking flunk out.” He gasps, sitting next to you.

“No you're not.” You chuckle, flipping over your notes to look at the backside.

“I tried to study all night but I kept falling asleep. Why did I come here? I hate it.” He pouts. You shake your head at the man, focusing on your notes.

“Well.” You sigh. “At this rate, I'll be failing with you. Minho was at my house again last night. He and Jisung were blasting music until all hours.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Minho was at your house?” Your other friend, Jisoo gasps, pulling up a chair beside you. “You're so lucky.”

“He's so fucking annoying.” You retort.

“But he's so hot.” Jisoo grins.

You ignored her last comment, you didn't want to vocally agree with her, because the last thing you needed was for your words to get back to him and inflate his head more than it already was.

“And to be honest, so is your brother. Is he single?” She asks.

“He's single. But I'm going to tell you not to go there because I don't want you to stop being my friend.” You laugh. “He's a terrible human being.”

“But he's hot.” Jisoo swoons, batting her eyes at you.

“Gross.” You sigh, looking at your phone. You gather your things off the table, dragging Hyunjin behind you to your psychology classroom.

“Please, Y/N.” He begs from behind you. You turn your head to look at him, giggling at the pitiful man who is usually so confident. This exam really has him fucked up. You turn your head again to look where you're going, and bump into someone, knocking your papers and bag to the floor.

“Ugh, I'm so sorry.” You sigh, bending down to pick up your things. You look up, seeing Minho glare down at you. You roll your eyes instantly, scoffing. “Actually I'm not sorry.” You say, finishing picking everything up. You stand up, Minho still staring at you but now smiling. Hyunjin comes up beside you, swinging his arm around your shoulders.

“Come on.” He says, pulling you away from Minho, who still hadn't said a word to you, but the smile never left his face.

“You got this.” You say to Hyunjin, your hands on his shoulders as you both take deep breaths outside your classroom door.

“So do you.” He breathes. “Drinks after?” He asks. You glance at your watch, 12:58pm. You should be done by 4pm..

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You grin as the two of you make your way into the class.

3 hours later, you both emerge from the room, disheveled hair, sweat and tear stains present on both of you.

“How did..” Hyunjin starts. You put your hand up to stop him.

“Not yet. Shots..lots of shots.” You whimper. The two of you link arms, heading for the pub down the street from campus.

Hours later, you stumble home. As you stand in your yard you see lights flashing inside, and you can hear the bass thumping from the street. Jisung would throw a party on a random Thursday. That's just what he does. You quickly text Hyunjin and Jisoo to come over and party with you, both of them replying that they'll be there soon. You head inside, your brother spots you immediately.

“Y/N.. it's only just started. Don't shut me down.” He fake cries. You glare at him, seeing Minho walk up behind him. A few of his other friends were standing around, a lot of other people you didn't know also staring at you.

“Let's do some fucking shots!” You yell, making your way to the kitchen, hearing the cheers from the party goers. You walk past a chuckling Minho on your way to the kitchen. You glare at him before grabbing his sleeve, pulling him in there with you and a few others to take some shots. As you're about to do your second one, Hyunjin and Jisoo walk in. You were already drunk from your after exam drunks with Hyunjin, and now you were feeling it even more.

“Jinnie.” You squeal, putting your arms out for a hug. He grins as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly. Instantly you hear Jisoo’s flirty voice come to play, you break the hug to turn around and see Jisoo and Jisung tucked in a corner talking.

That made you want to vomit. You turn back towards the group taking shots, quickly pouring one for Hyunjin before you all take it. “Let's dance!” You yell, walking past Minho with Hyunjin in tow. You're dancing, laughing and just all around having a good time but you can't help but notice Minho standing against the wall with his arms crossed, eyes trained on you. They roamed up and down your body as he watched you dance, and you hated that the way he was looking at you, that the way he was biting his lip was turning you on so much.

“I'm gonna get a drink.” You tell Hyunjin, making your way to the kitchen. You feel a hand on your wrist, pulling you down the hallway instead.

“You looked really hot out there.” a guy tells you. You have no clue who this dude was, and frankly you were not interested.

“Thanks.” You respond, turning back towards the kitchen.

He grabs you again. “I wasn't done talking to you.” He half laughs.

You can feel the annoyance building up inside of you. “But I'm done.” You say, trying to walk away again. His grip tightens, pushing you against the wall.

“I'm trying to get to know you better.” He scoffs. “Don't be so rude.”

“I'm not interested.” You tell him, as if your current lack of interest wasn't enough.

He stares at you, refusing to move, not saying a word. You can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure out what to say to you next. Before he can get his words out, he's shoved away from you, sliding down the floor of the hallway. Your mouth hangs open as you turn to look and see who your savior was.

Minho stands there, his eyes practically shooting daggers into the man.

“Are you fucking dumb, Changbin?” Minho asks.

“What the fuck, dude?” Changbin scoffs, scrambling up off the floor.

“That's Jisung's little sister you fucking moron.” Minho snaps, pointing at you.

“Oh shit.. I'm sorry! I didn't know!” He panics. Your eyes bounce between the two men, not sure why Changbin sounded so scared of your idiot brother.

“I'll let you off this time.” Minho starts. “If I catch you near her again, I will beat the fucking shit out of you.” He finishes. Changbin nods his head before running off into the crowd.

“You okay?” Minho asks as you rub your wrist. You nod your head.

“Yeah.. thanks.” You smile, returning to the party. The rest of the night, wherever you went, Minho was there, off in the distance watching you. You weren't uncomfortable from it but you did wish that he would go and enjoy himself. He didn't need to keep an eye on you, and as you got drunker, you decided to let him know.

“You.. keep staring.” You hiccup, placing your hand on the wall by his head. He smirks as he looks at you, barely able to stand up straight, eyes fluttering open and closed. You were a goddamn mess.

“Let's get you to bed, mhm?” He says, wrapping his arm around your waist to help you up the stairs. As you're walking up, you unfortunately see Jisung and Jisoo locking lips, making all the drinks you had all night threaten to come up.

“Get a room you sick fucks.” You slur, walking past them. Jisoo comes up for air looking embarrassed but only for a second before Jisung steals her attention back. Minho helps you to your room, you stand in the middle, your arms up high. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, wondering what the fuck you were waiting for.

“I can't sleep in my clothes.” You whine. “but I'll fall if I undress myself.” You pout.

Minho reluctantly walks towards you, grabbing the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in a bra and your pants. He moves his hands down towards the button of your jeans. You hop back a little, almost losing your balance as you laugh, hysterically.

“Funny.” He fake chuckles, moving towards you again. You grab onto his arm, spinning yourself around to his back, sliding your hands up and down his body. You reach around to his stomach, moving your hands under his shirt, running them over his abs.

“Ugh.” You groan at the feeling.

He quickly turns around facing you once again, a smile spread across his face. You knew he wanted to be mad at you but he couldn't.

“Take your pants off or I'm gonna throw you down onto the bed and take them off for you.” He threatens. You blush, hard.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. Minho reaches out for you, grabbing you by the waist of your jeans, pulling you towards him. “It's a little of both.” He tells you as he tries to undo your button. You were having too much fun in the moment, you didn't want it to end just yet. You grab his hands, pushing him away from you, laughing as he runs his hands through his hair. He has never seen this giggling playful side of you before, and he was enjoying the fuck out of it.

“Y/N.” He says sternly, his hands on his hips.

“Minho.” You say, putting your hands on your hips, pushing your hip out, pursing your lips. He's trying to remain serious but he can't. He starts laughing as he rubs his face, groaning in frustration.

“Take off your pants!” He yells.

“Yes sir!” You giggle as you take off your pants, leaving you in your bra and panties. Minho hands you a pair of pj shorts that he grabbed from your dresser. You semi quickly put them on before turning around, facing away from him to unhook your bra. It slides down your body, onto the floor. You smile to yourself.

“I bet you're upset, huh?” You giggle, turning your head to look at him.

“Why would I be upset?” He asks.

“Cause you can't see my boobies.” You laugh, turning slightly to show him a little side boob. “I think you'd like them.” You say, looking at him. His eyes are focused down, looking at what you're showing him. “Tsk tsk, naughty boy.” You scold, slipping your shirt on, turning around to face him.

He stares at you, and you stare back. You examine his face, his large veiny arms and hands, his roughly tousled hair.

“Jisoo was right.” You whisper.

“About?” He asks.

“You.” You hiccup. “She said you were hot.”

“And what did you say?” He asks.

“I didn't say. Cause I don't need my words going to your thick ass head.” You giggle.

“If they wouldn't go to my head, what would you say?” He asks.

“That you're really fucking hot. But you're a little violent and hot headed.” You sigh. “Buuut you're not allowed to know that so shhh.. cause Jisung said you're off limits.”

“Since when do you do what your brother tells you?” He laughs.

“I listen to him!” you say. No you didn't. “Actually, never.” You hiccup.

He doesn't reply. He stands there, staring at you. You can feel your breath hitch as he moves closer towards you, the palm of his hand gently laying on your cheek as his face moves closer to yours. You close your eyes, the world is spinning as you feel his lips press against yours. You feel like you're melting into the kiss as your lips move against his, his tongue slowly sliding into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You could have sworn this was a dream, like his lips were perfectly made for your own. He slowly pulls away, turning to look at the door, and that's when you hear it.

“Minho!”

It's your brother's voice. “Lee fucking Know!” He yells.

“Go to sleep.” He says to you, turning and walking out of your room. You lay down in your bed, closing your eyes. The world only spins for a moment before you pass out.

**

“I'm never drinking again.” You gasp as you crawl out of your bed, desperately trying to make your way to the bathroom to get some water. Your throat was the driest it had ever been and you felt like you might actually die. Once you reach the sink, you shove your head underneath, drinking all the cold water you could get into your mouth. Fuck it tastes good. When you're finally satisfied, you drag your feet to change into some comfier clothes before heading downstairs. Luckily you didn't have class until the afternoon today, so you could try to recover this morning. You grab some food from the fridge, eating it cold, ignoring the passed out people scattered around your house.

“Morning.” You hear. You turn to look, seeing Minho walk into the kitchen, heading for the fridge.

“Morning.” You sigh.

“Hungover?” He asks you, grabbing some juice. You whimper as you nod your head. He laughs. You turn to glare at him, when suddenly you remembered. You think you remembered at least.

“Did..” you pause. “We.. um.. actually nevermind.” You say, turning away from him.

“Did we, what?” He asks, grinning.

“Kiss?” You whisper, looking around, making sure Jisung wasn't around.

“Me and you?” He asks, shocked. “Did you have a sex dream about me?” He gasps, placing his hand over his chest.

“What!? No! I just had a flash.. of something.. and we were kissing.” You try to explain.

“I feel so violated.” He fake cries. “I wasn't aware you thought of me like that.”

“Who's thinking of you like what?” You hear. Jisung walks into the kitchen, grabbing your food off the counter.

“Y/N.” Minho says. “I think she's into me.” He laughs.

“Yeah right.” Jisung chuckles. “Neither of you are dumb enough to do that.”

You look at Minho as he looks at you. Neither of you were dumb enough.. right?

[hiitsm]

Beneath the Surface: The Second Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst & Smut is included in this Second Piece.

-

Other parts of Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

-

It's been two weeks now, and you still haven't heard anything from your girlfriend—or is it ex-girlfriend now?

You try to respect her wishes and give her the space she asked for, but it doesn't provide any answers.

The lack of clarity gnaws at you.

Why does she need space?

The thought that she must have been struggling in your presence without you noticing fills you with sadness. You feel an overwhelming sense of failure for not having been there to help her.

But that feeling of failure quickly gives way to your own sadness and anger.

She left you a letter.

You had been together for almost three years.

How could she just leave you with a letter?

You turn onto your side in bed, letting the tears flow freely once more. You've been isolating yourself from the world, unwilling to leave the sanctuary of your bed.

Everything around you reminds you of her, and you're not the type to discard those memories. You cling to a sliver of hope.

After all, she said she hoped to see you again when the time is right, didn't she? Or is it wrong to hold onto that hope?

Perhaps you should try to let go.

But even the mere thought of letting her go makes your chest feel heavy and your breaths come faster.

No, you can't bring yourself to let her go.

A couple of days ago, you ended up taking nearly all of your vacation days at work. Fortunately, none of your colleagues were on vacation, allowing you to get the time off.

This meant you could spend three weeks crying and isolating yourself in your apartment, avoiding not only the world but also the workplace where you had met her.

You quickly push that thought aside, remembering when the two of you first met, and finally summon the strength to get out of bed.

Clad only in a sports bra and boxers, you grab a rather large t-shirt from your closet.

It's hers.

Despite knowing you shouldn’t, you put it on anyway.

The fabric feels soft, and it still carries a hint of her scent.

It comforts your hurt, if only a little.

You walk to your kitchen and try to eat a banana, though your appetite demands nothing. Still, you know you need to eat something, so you slowly nibble on the banana.

When you're done, you walk to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. Not that it will help much. You've cried your eyes out for days and look like a wreck no matter what you do.

As you open the towel closet, a small book falls from the top shelf, hitting you on the head with a painful thud. You grunt a little while picking it up from the floor.

You hold your breath.

It's the scrapbook you had been making for your third anniversary with Alexia, which would have been in two weeks.

You had hidden it from her in the towel closet, knowing she never looks on the top shelves.

In the midst of everything, you had completely forgotten about it yourself.

You open it.

You shouldn't.

But you do.

And seeing the first page with the first picture makes you cry all over again.

It's not just any picture of the two of you together.

It's a picture filled with so much emotion, capturing a moment that holds a world of feelings within it.

It's the two of you in bed, just waking up from your first time just sharing the night together.

You know that for Alexia, this has been her favorite memory of the two of you so far.

She had woken up first and watched you, feeling you safely in her arms, a moment she wished she could wake up to every day.

But would it still be her favorite memory?

She insisted that you should be the little spoon. You remember her voice, urging you to take a picture, saying, "Come on, we should take a picture, Bebita. For our memories. Our first night together. it's a special memory, just for the two of us. It will look cute like this," and oh she was right. Because it did look cute.

You still feel so much love when you look at her in that picture.

It shatters your heart into a million little pieces all over again.

You close the scrapbook in a second, unable to bear the flood of memories and emotions that come rushing back.

But you couldn't push all the memories away.

They flooded back, overwhelming you.

And as you try to return to your bed, another wave of memories hits you.

A very special, intimate memory that you couldn't push away.

No matter how hard you tried.

-

Alexia was rolling her hips, slowly rocking into you.

Your girlfriend had proposed trying out a strap-on, something new for both of you. The fact that she had asked you and trusted you enough to explore new things together made you say yes in an instant.

Now that you were laying on your back, with Alexia and her strap between your legs, you still struggled a bit with keeping the stress at bay.

It was something new, and you weren't quite used to the stretch.

But it felt good, so good.

And the overwhelming feeling you got when you watched your girlfriend hovered over you and between your legs made you feel things you have never felt before.

Which is a little scary if you are being honest.

But with every soft kiss she gave you, you felt yourself being pulled back into the moment.

Being pulled back into her.

"You're doing so well, you're being so good to me," your girlfriend whispered softly into your ear, eliciting a small moan from you.

The room was quiet, bathed in the gentle glow of four candles placed in each corner of Alexia's bedroom.

"Are you still feeling okay, mi vida?" She always checked in on you, wanting you to enjoy this as much as she did.

You nodded slowly, still trying to steady your breathing, feeling the slight tension on the surface.

Alexia noticed, as she always did.

"Should I slow down a little?" She whispered softly, her gaze searching yours for an answer.

When you didn't respond, she stopped with rocking her hips back and forth completely.

"Amor, look at me please," she asked, and she gently tilted your head, trying to meet your eyes.

"It's okay if you want me to slow down. This is the first time we're trying this, and I know it's something new for both of us," she assured you softly, easing your nerves.

"I'm so happy and grateful that you want to try this with me. Whatever you feel, whether you want me to speed up or slow down, we'll do it. I promise that I'll listen to you." Her words enveloped you in comfort, and you tilted your head up slightly to meet her lips in a soft kiss.

You smile softly at her. "Thank you, amor. Lo siento. I'm just a little taken aback by how good it feels. How good you feel," you murmur, reaching up to kiss her neck softly.

Your gesture elicits a moan from your girlfriend's lips, her hand squeezing your right breast softly.

"Please, go on, mi vida. Make me feel so good," you whisper, kissing her earlobe gently.

All your stress melted away, replaced by a newfound confidence.

You reveled in her reassurance, knowing you could trust her completely.

As her hips sped up again, you both moaned in pure pleasure.

The tension built between you, both aware that you weren't going to hold back.

The edge was approaching, and you both knew you would take each other over it.

"You look so beautiful, Bebita," she urged, setting an even better pace, her fingers teasing your clit, just the right amount.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt that familiar sensation, but even more intense.

"You make me feel so good. Come with me, amor," she whispered, biting softly on your collarbone.

You watched her, the rhythmic motion up and down, a beautiful sight that sent you right over the edge.

Together.

With her.

-

She was always so kind, so gentle, so full of love for you.

You could feel her love radiating from her, a constant source of warmth and reassurance.

Yet, you still couldn't understand how this could happen, how she could leave you.

Doubts start to creep in.

Maybe it was your fault.

Maybe you weren't enough for her as a girlfriend.

Maybe you needed to change things about yourself.

She had doubts, right? Maybe those doubts were about you.

Your mind spirals back into self-doubt, grappling with questions that seem to have no answers.

You try to close your eyes and just sleep it off.

And you're so exhausted that the moment your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep immediately.

-

Six weeks later you set foot in the stadium you have always loved so deeply once more. You knew it would stir old memories—memories of better days.

To be honest, you hadn't wanted to return to this place. But your friends insisted on dragging you out of your apartment, and after all, it was the Copa de La Reina final.

Barcelona would always hold a special place in your heart. And who would you be if FC Barcelona, especially FC Barcelona Femení, were not a part of it?

Your friends knew you had isolated yourself from the world for a couple of weeks now, but they didn't fully understand why.

You hadn't mentioned your girlfriend in a while, and they were careful not to bring it up. They understood that if you hadn't spoken about it yet, you were still trying to make sense of everything on your own.

But even if you tried, you couldn't bring yourself to talk about it. How could you, when it still hurt too much to even think about?

But your friends wouldn't be your friends if they didn't try to help you in the ways you needed, even if they didn't know exactly what that was.

That's why they invited you to watch this match. And that's why you couldn't bring yourself to say no—because they were your closest friends, and they were trying so hard.

You were quiet, but your friends were glad you came with them. You were quiet because you knew every single detail about football, analyzing the match unconsciously.

A few years ago, you didn't even know what offside was. But then you met her, and everything changed. You wanted to understand everything about football because it was her passion.

And she was your everything. So you made it your mission to know every single aspect of the game.

You didn't notice a tear streaming down your face until one of your friends gently wiped it away. You looked into her eyes, and she gave you a soft smile, wrapping one arm around your shoulder in a comforting side hug.

The match ended with FC Barcelona Femení triumphing 8-0. You felt like a proud culé, swelling with pride for her.

She had played an amazing game, even though she hadn't started.

Despite the hurt she caused you, the love you felt for her remained undiminished.

You couldn't escape the overwhelming wave of love that washed over you as you watched her from a safe distance.

The safe distance was soon to be over as your friends wanted to move closer to the players to congratulate them on their fantastic performance.

You always thought it was a bit much, but seeing the happy faces of your friends, you couldn't resist. This time, however, you felt hesitant.

Still, you didn't want them to ask any questions, so you reluctantly went with them.

You were lost in your thoughts, staring at the grass, when you looked up and saw her. Your everything. The very essence of your heart, who had broke your heart into a million little pieces.

You knew right away, that coming to this match was a mistake.

You feel a panic attack coming.

You noticed that she had stopped in her tracks, shock evident in her expression upon seeing you there.

Emotions surged within you as memories flooded back.

Suddenly, you could feel her laughter against your neck as she hugged you from behind.

You could feel her gentle touch on your skin as she made love to you in your favorite way.

You could feel her strong hands on the sides of your waist when she was rocking you both slowly to the music inside your own apartment.

It was overwhelming.

You needed to escape.

You thought you had picked up a small piece of your broken heart when you set foot in this stadium.

But as you reached for the second piece, it slipped in your grip when you looked into her eyes.

Taking the first piece with it.

It hurts.

Sending your friends a wave goodbye, you rushed out of the stadium, leaving them slightly confused.

You didn't know that Alexia longed to come after you.

But she couldn't reach out to you, not right now.

You didn't know how deeply she regretted hurting you.

But she couldn't reenter your life with just an apology.

You didn't know how much love swelled in her heart when she saw you after so long.

But she couldn't act on those feelings, not yet.

You didn't know that she desperately wanted to make things right.

But she couldn't, not at that moment, because she doesn't know how.

-

Note: Thank you for taking the time to read my fics. I truly appreciate your support and hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.

Beneath the Surface: The Third Piece, will be out next sunday.

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy- Part 2 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex, oral sex), super toxic relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

(part 1)

His favorit toy- Part 2:

Two months have passed since the last time Art and I fucked. Although it wouldn’t be fair to call it that, because I don’t fully know what it was. I only know he said he thinks he loves me. Neither of us made the minimal effort to rekindle any kind of relationship. I kept sitting with Janet and Shane, and he stayed in his place next to the friend he invented.

Occasionally, if I focused, I could feel his gaze on the back of my neck, but maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I also imagined his declaration of love, maybe I lost my grip on reality for a moment. Maybe more water needs to flow under this bridge. Maybe Tashi Duncan needs to be his, like he is hers, so I can stop dreaming about him at night. How did I become so dependent on the emotions of a girl I have no desire to exchange a word with? How did I lose someone I’m not sure was ever mine? And more than anything- what made me spend so much time in this endless whining?

A few days after that party, Luke sat next to me in one of the classes we share. He looked so good that if I close my eyes, I can imagine it's Art. A remarkably pathetic thought, but it works. Except he isn’t cruel. He doesn't try to deceive me or lead me to the point he wants me to reach. He’s interested in me and my hobbies, and sometimes he walks me from class to class, but in these two months, he hasn’t made any move beyond placing his hand on my shoulder. Maybe he thinks I have lice. Maybe he thinks I won’t be good enough in bed to risk our boring conversations about the eco-intro professor.

Maggie, the girl I work with, canceled at the last minute, so I ended up alone at the smoothie station and the register. I took comfort in the fact that it's exam season and not too many Stanford students would prefer to stand in line for a smoothie instead of grabbing a spot in the library on a Sunday night. "The usual?" I heard Art’s voice and lifted my gaze from the book I was reading. I blinked at him a few times, as if trying to figure out if I was imagining his smug smile. Maybe it wasn’t smug, maybe that's just how he always smiles when he sees me. Like he knows a secret he’ll never tell me. "I..." I tried to hold onto the reality as I knew it, "I don’t remember," I smiled without showing teeth, half-forced.

"Peach—" he stopped himself in the middle of the stupid nickname. Apparently, he understood from my look that it wasn’t appropriate after two months of radio silence. "Almond milk, banana, pecan, and coconut," he mumbled. "That’s $4.50," he nodded. I wondered if he was surprised, because I’d never asked him to pay before. I’d always used the free smoothie I got during my shift on him. "How a—" he started to speak, and I turned on the blender, seeing out of the corner of my eye that he was smirking and shaking his head. "Fair," he muttered. "Here’s your smoothie. Goodnight," I handed him the cup after a few seconds, with the most forced smile I could muster. He rolled his eyes in response and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

"What do you think you’re doing?" I asked. "Sitting and drinking my smoothie, obviously," he spoke again as if I were two years old. Like I needed him to mediate reality for me because I couldn’t understand it on my own. "Do you see anyone else sitting here?" I asked. "Just because the tables are empty because it’s ten at night and you’re working in a cafeteria-" he began. "This isn’t a cafeteria. It’s the—" "Doesn’t mean I can’t sit at one of the tables and drink my smoothie. Or are there new rules I’m not aware of?" I rolled my eyes in response. Smug dickhead. I was definitely not going to give him a second of my time. I went back to the book I was reading for my philosophy exam, trying to ignore his presence but realizing I was reading the same sentence five times in a row.

"What are you studying?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you doing this?" I threw the question back from behind the counter, sighing in frustration. "What am I doing?" The usual smirk was plastered on his face. "Why are you here on a Sunday night, Art?" If I could stomp my foot to express protest, I would. "Because you’re here on a Sunday night." The smirk turned into a smile. I couldn’t tell if it was sincere. I never know if he’s sincere.

"What do you want?" I rolled my eyes and sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to leave. I knew he was stubborn in an almost inspiring way (or nauseating, depending on who you ask) and that he was always at an advantage with me. He always had the last word. All I had left was to let him say it quickly and move on with life. "To ask how you're doing?" he half said, half asked. He sounded hesitant, but I knew he wasn’t. I knew he was as confident as any other day. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Amazing. Anything else?" I found myself crossing my arms under my chest and saw him, without shame, shift his gaze, well… to my chest, raising an eyebrow.

"Arthur!" I felt like I was his aunt as he shook his head, almost playfully. "I missed you, Peaches. Is that so hard to believe?" He chuckled, still completely shameless. "Well, I didn’t." That was the first thing that came to mind, and the face Art made, along with the eye roll, only emphasized how much he didn’t believe me. "Why are you so mad at me?" His voice was amused as he approached the counter with his smoothie, grabbing the book I was reading without asking. "What course is this?" "Philosophy," I snatched it from his hand, and he grabbed mine with the speed of an athlete who works too much with his hands. "Let go," I muttered, not sure if I wanted him to release my hand or release me. But I was scared he'd agree and disappear again, and that was so fucking pathetic. "Never," he replied, keeping his gaze on me and giving my hand a squeeze. "It’s not fair, Art," I hated how my voice sounded. "What’s not fair?" he asked, tracing small circles on my hand the moment he felt me relax the muscle that had been trying to pull away from his touch. "What you're doing right now," I sighed. If he weren’t in front of me, I probably would’ve started crying out of frustration. "What am I doing right now?" The smirk was once again plastered on his face. "Trying to convince me everything's okay between us," I hesitated, and he shook his head from side to side. "Nothing's okay between us, Peaches. I hate it. I actually hate it. I think about you 80% of the day. Every time I want to talk to you, you're either with your friends or with Luke." He wrinkled his nose as he said his name.

"Why do you know his name?" I asked, studying him. "Because I looked him up, and I'm telling you, Peaches, he's fucking weird—" "You're fucking weird," I shot back, and he laughed, trying to move the hair from my face with his free hand. "Well, maybe you like us weird, maybe you've got a type," he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. "Who said I like you, Donaldson?" I tried to defend myself, and Art wasn’t laughing anymore. He wasn’t smiling either. He just looked at me, not letting me read his expression. His hand, which had been playing with mine, tightened its grip, and his gaze locked onto me as if I was on trial for the words that just came out of my mouth.

"Let’s study for the statistics exam together tomorrow?" He changed the subject, not breaking his intense gaze. "Art—" "Study for the exam. Just that. I won't pass it if you don't help me," he flashed his most charming smile. The one he fakes in seconds. The one he uses for interviews with the Stanford magazine and in photoshoots for the tennis team posters. "Study with Dylan," I suggested, raising an eyebrow, referring to the imaginary friend he chose to sit with instead of me. "You want me to beg?" he asked, poking my shoulder with his finger, causing me to shift slightly but still not letting go of my hand. "Maybe," I teased. "I can. My ego will survive if you study with me for statistics tomorrow." He said it quicker than I expected.

"I have a philosophy exam at eight. Can you do twelve?" I asked. "I can when you can. Where’s the exam? I’ll wait for you," he said. "Meet me at the economics library. There’s a room where you’re allowed to talk if you’re working in groups," I explained my choice. "That’s ridiculous. Let’s study at your place or mine—" "We’ll study at the library, take it or leave it," I stated firmly, even though the temptation to go to his dorm was strong since he never invited me. We always went to mine. "Library it is," he agreed. "What’s your philosophy exam about?" he asked, finally letting go of my hand, which had been holding the book I was studying from. "Aristotle and eudaimonia. What he thinks about happiness," I muttered, opening my notes again. "What does he think about happiness?" Art asked, leaning on the counter. "You wouldn’t get it," I smiled at him, and saw him nod with a somewhat thoughtful look, as if his combative spirit and desire to argue had evaporated the moment I agreed to study statistics with him. "Tomorrow at twelve, Peaches. Don’t break my heart and ditch me," he threw into the air, leaving the booth with the same dramatic flair he had when he entered. . . . I walked into the economics library, which was packed with people. Art was already sitting there, messing with his phone more than with the notes in front of him on the table. He hadn’t noticed I’d entered, giving me the chance to observe him. His blonde curls fell over his eyes in a way that likely bothered him. He was wearing his red tennis outfit (the one I liked the most, I should mention) and looked carefree. He always seemed too relaxed, maybe that’s how it is when everything comes to you with an ease that’s almost disgusting.

"You need a haircut," I muttered the first thing that came to mind as I approached, seeing him look up immediately. "Hey," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I saved a spot because I knew it’d be crowded," he added. "How long have you been sitting here?" I asked as I took the seat next to him. "Since about ten," he chuckled, probably at himself, "How was the exam?" he asked. "Long. Have you gone over any of the material?" Yesterday, I decided I’d be practical. I’d promised to help him, and honestly, I always understood the material better myself when I explained it to him. And if Art Donaldson could take advantage of my knowledge in statistics, then I could take advantage of the situation too. Not just him. "A little, I pretty much lost track in the middle of the course." Art had taken this course as an elective. I always found it funny because who takes statistics as an extra class when it’s not even required for their degree?

"What, Kevin didn’t let you copy his notes?" I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he lightly tapped my shoulder. "You’re mean. Since when are you so mean?" he responded with a humor I couldn’t fully read, unsure if he was joking or if part of him actually thought there was some cruelty in me. Maybe it was the philosophy exam I couldn’t shake off. Obsessive thoughts about happiness and potential. "I’m going to get myself some coffee, want me to bring you something?" I asked, changing the subject. "Sit down, get settled, I’ll get it for you," he nodded toward me and stood up, not giving me a chance to refuse before he disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone.

Art Donaldson will be the end of me. I’m certain of it. "My brain is fried, Donaldson. I can’t look at any more averages," I summed up after two hours of studying. "Yeah? Already gave up?" he asked, amused. "I remind you that I had an exam today! I don’t think I’ve eaten anything other than my own brain," I tried to remember what I’d actually eaten today. "So let’s go eat something," he smiled. His eyes practically sparkled. "Art," I sighed, resting my head on my hand. "What? We can’t go have lunch?" he asked with mock innocence. Speaking to me again like I was a child. Like I didn’t understand what he’d already figured out long ago. "No, of course not," I wanted to smack him on the head as if he were the dumbest person I knew. "I can’t let you stay hungry, Peaches, my grandmother would be mad at me," he quickly replied. Where was your grandmother every time you humiliated me to the core? Every time you made me feel empty and stupid? So stupid. "Your grandmother will survive," I rolled my eyes. "She’s a very sick woman, you don’t know that. I’ll tell her I let you starve and she’ll have a stroke. You won’t be able to live with that on your conscience. You’ll drag us into lives full of guilt—" "Okay, you’re giving me a headache, God," I mumbled, standing up. Art Donaldson’s smug smile returned to his face in an instant.

That’s how I found myself sitting across from him at the fancy cafeteria for athletes, eating nuggets after the woman working there flirted with him and gave me a threatening look. "Don’t hate Rosie, she always gives me extra pie," he said after I pointed out that she looked at me like I was the reason the Beatles broke up. "Because she wants to sleep with you," I rolled my eyes. "So she has a reason to look at you like that. Makes sense," he replied with a chuckle. "Okay, what is this?" I dropped the nugget I was holding and pointed between us as I leaned back in my chair. "What?" he continued eating as if nothing unusual was happening. "What are you doing, Art?" I asked, feeling my leg start to shake out of frustration.

"I’m eating and making sure you’re eating," he replied, taking another bite of his food, as if we were having a completely normal conversation. "We’re not going to fuck again just because you invited me to eat nuggets at the cafeteria, you know that, right?" I blinked at him, trying to signal that he was delusional. "Of course not," he said, leaning back in his chair as well. "I have principles, Donaldson," I continued. "I know," he smiled. "I’m not some girl you found on the street that you can treat however you want, disappear for two months, invite her for nuggets, and she’ll take off her bra just so you can vanish again until the next time you’re horny," my voice rose a bit, despite my effort to keep it calm. I saw his jaw tighten, his expression shifting from amused to cold. "Is that what you think this is?" he asked, and all I could do was shrug.

"It’s not like you’ve given me any reason to think otherwise, Art," I looked at him and felt that if I stayed there much longer, I’d start crying. "I told you that I lo—" he began, but I stood up. "Thanks for lunch, it’s definitely nicer than the regular cafeteria," I forced a smile, and he closed his eyes. "You didn’t eat anything," he replied. If I focused, maybe I could have seen his frustration growing. But I was trying to focus on not crying. Art Donaldson’s ego didn’t deserve to see me cry over him again. "I’m really tired, I need to sleep a bit before my shift," I mumbled. "Will you come to my match tomorrow?" he asked quietly. "Art—" "You don’t have to, but I’m saving you a seat, okay?" he cut off my answer, not wanting to hear a refusal, maybe not believing there was a bone in my body capable of saying no to him. . . . And it’s a little pathetic how I ended up walking onto the tennis court the next day, giving up the last shred of my self-respect. I was surprised to see how many people showed up to these things, especially at the end of exam season and right before the break. The place was packed.

‘You came’ -A- I got his message and tried to look around, searching for where he might be. ‘Down on the court’ -A- I could practically see his smirk in the words. I glanced toward him and shrugged. ‘Front row, saved you a seat next to Patrick’ -A- he added.

‘What the fuck is Patrick?’ -(Y/N)- I replied, not moving toward where he told me to go.

‘A friend. Please sit there.’ -A- He answered shortly. ‘Want to lift my head and know where you are’ -A- And when he says things like that, I almost forget how cruel he can be. So I find myself rolling my eyes and walking toward the seat he saved for me.

"Are you Patrick?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush from the awkward interaction with the guy sitting next to the empty seat. "Depends who’s asking," the curly-haired guy responded, flashing a mischievous half-smile. I can see why they’re friends. Fucking twelve-year-olds in the bodies of twenty-year-olds, how is that even possible?! "Don’t be a dick," we heard from down below, and I turned to see Art approaching us. "Who’s this?" the guy I didn’t know asked, as if I wasn’t standing right there—seriously, rude as hell, but whatever. "Patrick, behave," Art wasn’t joking, not even smiling, scolding him like you’d scold a misbehaving pet. "You came," Art looked me over, grinning from ear to ear. "Don’t let it go to your head, I had some free time," I muttered, sitting down. Art nodded. "Will you stay after the game?" he asked. I think it was the first time Art had to look up to talk to me. "I don’t know, I need to keep studying for statistics," I answered. "Me too," he replied. "We’ll study together," he shrugged, not giving me a chance to respond before he walked off, taking his position. Getting ready to serve.

“Interesting,” the guy next to me said. “What exactly?” I asked, rolling my eyes and still not looking at him. “You, of course,” I could hear him smiling. “What’s so interesting about me?” I kept staring into the air, unsure if I should focus on Art, who still hadn’t started playing, or the phenomenon sitting next to me. Arrogant, just like the blond guy who’s been emotionally torturing me for months. “Well, first of all, I’ve never heard of you. You’re a surprise,” he said as if it was obvious. And it stung a little, even though I knew the chances of Art talking about me were slim to none. “Maybe you’re the problem, Pete,” I muttered, snapping my fingers like I was trying to recall his name. “Patrick,” he corrected, laughing, making me look at him. He had a loud laugh, unapologetic. I knew his name was Patrick, and he knew I knew, but he still found it amusing.

“Maybe you’re the surprise,” I told him. “He doesn’t talk about you either.” I tried to sound unaffected, like everything was fine. The game started, and Art looked distracted. Maybe he always looks like that when he plays tennis- I’ve never watched his games before, he’s never invited me. “You’re supposed to watch the other side too,” Patrick whispered in my ear, causing me to roll my eyes. “Hey, Stats Girl,” I heard the familiar voice of Tashi Duncan just before she sat next to Patrick, cursing the day I decided to trust Art Donaldson and show up at his game. “The one and only,” I muttered with the best smile I could muster, feeling myself blush at the ridiculous nickname she gave me. “How’s he doing?” she asked Patrick. I wondered what their connection was. “He’s good, you know, as usual. Ice.” he replied, and they started talking quietly about the game, about Art, and about the opponent.

All I could think about was how good Art looked. He looked as if everything came to him effortlessly, as if he didn’t need to try for anything—everything just happened. And I knew that wasn’t true, I knew he worked hard, trained, ate properly, invested in his studies, and that he was probably a good grandson and a good friend. He was good to everyone except me. “Are you enjoying the game?” Tashi asked, pulling my gaze away from Art for a moment. “Huh?” I asked, not understanding what she wanted. “The game, are you enjoying it? He’s playing well,” she clarified. “Yeah, he’s really good,” I mumbled. I didn’t know what else to add to make it sound convincing. “Leave her, Tash. She doesn’t know anything about tennis, she’s his cheerleader,” Patrick answered her, snickering. I shot him a murderous look. “Patrick, don’t be rude,” Tashi said, “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to behave around people,” she turned to me, as if he wasn’t there. “It’s fine,” I replied, feeling my leg start to shake from the frustration. They went back to talking about the game, and I suddenly felt how pathetic it was, showing up to watch him play. To come and see him in his element, when he wasn’t part of my life anymore. When his friend sat next to me, mocking me to my face. “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled, walking toward the exit. I had no intention of coming back. . . . Two hours later, there were chaotic knocks on my door. “You left,” Art walked in without waiting for an invitation the second I opened the door. He looked angry. “I told you I didn’t know if I’d stay, I have an exam tom-” “Bullshit. What’s your deal? Why did you come?” He practically shouted as I closed the door. “You asked me to come,” I mumbled. “I also asked you to stay, but you left in the middle, so what was the point of you coming?” He crossed his arms. I don’t think I’d ever seen him this angry. He’s always calculated and calm. “Did he say something?” he added, asking a question. “What?” I returned, not understanding what he was talking about. “Patrick, did he say something to you? Why did you leave?” He asked again, speaking to me like I was a child. “He didn’t say anything to me. I left because I didn’t understand what I was even watching. I don’t know anything about tennis, Art, and I have an exam to study for,” I tried to justify. “Enough with that exam. I heard you studying for it yesterday, you know the material, we both know you know it.” He sighed. “I didn’t ask you to come to give tennis commentary. I asked you to come because I wanted you in the crowd. I wanted to see you in the crowd,” he continued. I could hear the effort in his voice to keep it together, to not lose control.

“Tashi was in the crowd; that should be enough for you,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to him, seeing that he was already staring at me. We had never talked like this about Tashi. She had always been this figure hovering above us. He talked about her constantly, unrelated to anything. He talked about her like she was a god. He talked about how she played tennis, about her training, how she helped him. He talked about parties he only went to because Tashi wanted to go. But I never responded in a way that would let him understand that I knew. That I wasn’t completely clueless. That I knew he was completely in love with her. That he loved her the way I loved him and that nothing would change that. “Oh, so that’s the problem. You could’ve started with that. It bothered you that Tashi was in the crowd?” He chuckled. He fucking chuckled. “Why did it bother you?” He moved closer to me, and I had no choice but to avert my gaze from his piercing blue eyes, which felt like bullets at that moment. “It didn’t bother m-” “Look at me.” He was close enough to grab my head and turn it back to face him. “I asked you a question,” he added, not letting me escape. And if there’s anyone I didn’t want to talk about, it’s Tashi Duncan.

“Why did you invite me? Why did you want me in the crowd?” “Because I wanted you to see me play,” he answered without blinking, as if it was obvious. As if there wasn’t a single question I could ask him that he wouldn’t have an answer for. “You love Tashi, Art. You lo-” His lips were on mine the second I said it. Again, there was nothing calm or calculated about this kiss. He was trying to prove that he didn’t, that I was wrong. While we both knew I was right. “You can’t say things like that, Peaches. You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he mumbled as he pulled away from me to catch a breath. “It’s okay that you love her. I’ve made peace with it. I just need you to let me move on, Art,” I sighed, trying to catch my breath again. “I don’t fucking love her.” He was angry; I could hear it in his voice. “What do I have to do to make you understand that you’re the only girl for me?” He kissed me again, and I could feel him getting hard from the way he pressed against me, causing me to moan into his mouth. “Yeah? Is this the only way I can get through to you? Is this the only way you believe me?” he asked, running his lips down my neck. "Art," it was half a moan, half a cry. My eyes closed, and as they did, I felt the weight of his hands on my shoulders, pulling me down until I was on my knees in front of him. I unbuttoned his jeans and quickly pulled down his boxers. I felt almost possessed as he sat on the edge of my bed, forcing me to crawl toward him. “There we go. Is this the only way I need to treat you for you to understand your place?” he muttered as I knelt before him again. I felt a light slap on my cheek from his cock, much more humiliating than painful. “I asked you a question,” he continued.

“N-no,” I mumbled. “Even your voice is annoying me right now,” he muttered, and without warning, I felt his cock in my mouth. He didn’t give me a moment to adjust, punishing me for leaving the match, maybe for bringing up Tashi, maybe for everything combined. You could never tell with him. I felt him hitting the back of my throat, and I tried to suppress my gag reflex with little success. Three months since he’d been in my mouth showed signs. “Shhh, you can do better than that,” he half-stroked my hair, half-held me in place by it. Then he pulled me back, leaving a trail of spit and precum. “You’re such a mess,” he chuckled, and again I felt a light slap of his cock against my cheek. I put my lips back where I knew he needed them the most, and this time, there was no gentle stroking of my hair. There was only a hand forcing me to stay in place as he used my mouth however he wanted. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he said, not very coherently, as I began to feel the warm, thick liquid spill into my throat. “Atta girl,” he patted my hair twice before letting me pull back.

I stood up slowly, trying to catch my breath. “Come here,” he mumbled, pointing to his thigh. I can’t refuse Art Donaldson, so I sat on his lap, placing my hands on his neck in an almost embrace, watching him smile. “Why is everything so hard with you?” he muttered, and his lips lazily found my neck. “I just don’t know what you want from me,” I responded, trying to focus on anything other than his lips currently on my collarbone. “I told you I love you,” he mumbled, his eyes locking onto mine. “You don’t mean that,” I shot back.

“Oh yeah?” His smirk spread across his face, and in seconds, he tossed me onto the bed as if I weighed nothing. He was above me. “For now, the one acting like a brat is you,” he said, his presence casting a shadow over me like a predator playing with its prey. “The one who left in the middle of my match is you.” His lips again left trails on my skin. I don’t even know when he took my shirt off. I felt a light bite on my nipple that made me moan. “Fuck, fa- Art,” I mumbled, unable to focus. “The one avoiding interaction with my friends is you.” His hand joined in, starting to torture my other nipple as his kisses moved further down. “I’m not,” I managed to respond, just as he easily removed my panties.

His breaths hovered over my pussy, short and hot, and if I didn’t know Art Donaldson so well, I would’ve thought he was looking up at me with almost a pleading expression. But he was in complete control. A small kiss on my lips, but not where I really needed him, made me shift my hips a little, and he chuckled- a laugh that was almost childlike. “Hey, ask nicely,” he managed to say, and I returned to the position I had before, legs around his head. “Please, Art,” I knew there was no point in arguing; he always got what he wanted in the end. “No problem, baby,” in seconds, his tongue was on my clit, starting slowly with circular motions and picking up speed with every moment. “There you go, you’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling back just before I could come. “What-” I tried to catch my breath again, craving the euphoria only he could give me at that moment. “I want to be inside you,” he answered without waiting for the full question, and in an instant, his cock filled me, making me moan. “Fuck,” I managed to mumble, feeling my eyes roll back. “Hold on a little longer, Peach,” he said, slipping his finger into my mouth like he liked to do, watching my lips close around it. “Now,” he muttered, pushing it deeper into my throat while he thrust into me, feeling me tighten around him like only an orgasm from him could make me do.

He fucked me stupid. There’s no other way to describe what I experienced, and as we both tried to catch our breath, I wondered how long it would take for him to leave this time and what his excuse would be. “Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I quietly asked, trying to throw him off balance for a moment. “No, but I don’t know anything for the stats exam,” he admitted and chuckled. “Art! I taught you all the material yesterday,” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t concentrate when you’re teaching me.” “Then why did you ask for help?” It was my turn to laugh. “Because you’re the most beautiful when you’re in your element,” he shrugged like it was obvious. Like hearing me talk about statistics would make him fall in love with me. Like it wasn’t what I felt two and a half hours ago when he played tennis, until I almost choked on love.

“When are you going home?” he asked, probably knowing my last exam was in statistics. “I’m not,” I replied casually, and he quickly shifted positions. “Why the hell not?” he asked, and I saw a small wrinkle form between his eyebrows. “It’s no big deal, Donaldson,” I chuckled, “I picked up extra shifts, and I have a paper to work on. Speaking of shifts, I need to get ready for mine.” I added as I checked the time. He watched me as I walked around the room, trying to decide if I smelled too much like sex to push the shower until after work. “Are you coming to the study marathon tomorrow before the exam?” he asked, starting to get dressed too. “Of course,” I looked at him like he was crazy. “Don’t think about skipping it, Art. You need it,” I said, knowing exactly who I was dealing with. “Okay, Mom,” his voice was amused, and I rolled my eyes, looking at him for another moment. We don’t get too many moments like these. Almost domestic. Almost mine.

"Hey, we're good, right?" he suddenly asked, holding my hand and not letting me continue running around the room. "Yeah, Art, everything's fine," I smiled half-heartedly, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Because I don't want another two months like these," he muttered, and I knew it was hard for him to admit. It was hard for him to say that the past two months had been strange, to say the least. Difficult, to be honest. "Me neither." I nodded at him. "When are you flying home?" I asked as we were both already outside the door, after I had locked it. "Four hours after the exam, I’m supposed to be on a flight," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow, two weeks at home, excited?" I asked. "Not that much, mostly glad I get to visit my grandma. She follows my matches with her entire retirement home, it’s a big deal for her." "Ooooh, you've got fans, Donaldson?" I joked. "You know I do," he replied. "Seriously though, why aren’t you going home?" he added. "It’s not that deep, just an opportunity to make some extra money. Plus, my mom and I aren’t in the best place right now," I shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. "Don’t you miss home?" he asked. "Not like most people probably do," I smiled at him. "I hate it when you smile like that," he said and suddenly stopped. "How?" I asked, looking at him as if he were crazy. "Without teeth. That’s your fake smile," he replied without blinking, as if it were strange that I was even asking. "I didn’t think you noticed," I mumbled. And I really didn’t think there was a possibility that Art Donaldson paid attention to details that, until now, I thought only I noticed about him. "I’ll see you tomorrow at the marathon?" he asked when we reached the point where I was supposed to head to the cafeteria and he to his dorm. "Don’t be late," I ordered, giving his face a small push, watching him chuckle and walk away from me. . . .

The next morning, I woke up with the worst headache I’d ever had in my life. I felt my nose was blocked, and I knew for sure I had a fever, though I had no way to measure it. 'Where are you?' -A-

'Sick, I’ll come for the exam' -(Y/N)-

'What’s wrong with you?' -A- I didn’t respond to that message, preferring to sleep a bit more before waking up for the statistics exam.

I got in the shower, and when I got out, I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my flushed cheeks as a contrast to my pale face. There was no mistaking it when you looked at me- I wasn’t at my best. The auditorium was partially full when I entered, people chatting among themselves, and I looked around, seeing Art already staring at me before he approached, getting ahead of Janet, who shot me a questioning glance. "Well, you look like shit," he stated, placing his hand on my forehead. "Fuck, Peaches, you’re burning up," he muttered, looking at me with an almost angry expression. "How did you manage to start dying in the minute and a half I left you alone?" he said. "I’m talented, Donaldson. Can you not yell? My head hurts," I mumbled, sitting in the empty seat I found.

The exam went smoothly and ended faster than it began. I physically couldn’t wait for Art to finish, so I texted him, hoping he’d enjoy his time at home, and I went to sleep. Half an hour later, there was a knock at my door, chaotic like the one from the day before. "Hey," he muttered. "You’ll miss your flight," I replied, running a tired hand over my eyes. "I’m not flying," he said quickly. "What?" I asked, not understanding what he was talking about, seeing him take off his shirt and pants, left only in his boxers. "Art, I physically can’t have sex," I chuckled, not understanding what was happening. "We’re going to sleep," he declared, pulling me toward him, leaving me no choice but to get into bed next to him. "Your bed’s worse than mine. Tomorrow we’ll sleep at my dorm," he stated.

"You're going to get sick too" I rolled my eyes, "Why aren’t you going home?" I asked quietly, while his hand traced shapes on my shoulder. "It felt weird going home when you’re sick and staying here," he replied, not ashamed for a second. "Your grandma must be disappointed," I mumbled. "I told her my girlfriend is sick," he said. I wanted so badly to see his face, but I had my back to him. "She must’ve been surprised you have a girlfriend," I said the first thing that came to mind, feeling my heart race. "Not at all, I talk to her about you all the time."

. . .

So here it is. The second part I didn't plan. Hope you like it even tho I wrote half of it while being super sick and didn't check my own grammar at all, so bear with me (a reminder: English is not my first language). Let me know what you think. It's always the best part. Also, I think I'm up for some requests. Let's see what we can come up with. Love you guys

[hd-junglebook]

My Sunshine

Part 1 - rewrite of the original

Warnings - pregnancy, flirting, verbal abuse, gaslighting, slight mention of prostitution, unwanted pregnancy, abortion, crying, banana muffins

a:n I'm so in love with the way that this came out, I could literally faint. I want to this man. ferally. In the most respectful way that I can put it. Had me giggling like a SLUT. Like look at that face, come on..

Masterlist Link

GIF by jonasiegenthaler

Summary: Y/N reminisces about her past, the faint memory of her hateful mother as reality starts to really sink in. Along comes jack and his giddy smile, eager to get to know our dear sunshine.

Word Count ~ 4k

1 month later

10:00am

The doctor's voice cuts through the heavy silence, their tone professional yet laced with a hint of warmth. "While we wait for the results, can you tell me the date of your last menstrual period and any potential dates of conception?"

Y/N takes a deep, steadying breath, her mind instantly transported back to the haunting echoes of her mother's cruel words. The memories feel so visceral, as if the scenes are playing out before her eyes once more.

"I wish one day, you could see why I raised you the way I did. You're so weak, gullible, and always so goddamn sensitive. It's pathetic, really." Her mother's voice drips with disdain, the familiar sting of her judgement cutting deep.

Y/N can practically feel the weight of her mother's disapproving stare, the contempt burning in her eyes. "Just like your useless father, y/n. You've never been and will never be good enough, not like me."

"You will need me one day, when you have a baby, you're gonna wish I was the one there helping you, holding your hand. But I won't be, because you've always been a disappointment, a burden I never wanted." The thought of facing motherhood without the unwavering support she so desperately craves fills Y/N with dread.

"I hate you, y/n, and I wish I would've gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I never regretted anything more than letting your useless father talk me into keeping you. I lost my whole life raising you - I slaved and sold myself to put food on the table, all for you ungrateful little shits." The bitterness in her mother's voice is palpable, a raw wound that has never fully healed.

Forcing the memories to the back of her mind, Y/N provides the doctor with the requested information to the best of her recollection.

A knot forms in her stomach as the details flow from her lips, a painful reminder of the intimate moments with Jason - moments that had once filled her with such joy and hope, but now only serve to heighten her anxiety.

The doctor nods, jotting down the notes on their clipboard. They continue the conversation, their tone gentle and understanding, offering Y/N a sense of comfort in the midst of the emotional turmoil.

After what feels like an eternity, they excuse themselves to check on the test results. The room falls silent, save for the ticking of the clock – each second a countdown to the life-changing news that awaits Y/N.

When the doctor returns, they have a file in hand. Taking a seat beside Y/N, they meet her gaze, their expression softening with a warmth that puts her at ease, even as her heart races in anticipation.

"Y/N," they begin gently, their voice filled with empathy, "the urine test came back positive for hCG. Congratulations, you're pregnant." The doctor pauses, studying Y/N's face for a moment before continuing. "I understand this may be an overwhelming time, but I want you to know that we're here to support you every step of the way."

Y/N feels her breath catch in her throat, the news hitting her like a physical blow.

Part of her had hoped, prayed, that the results would be negative, that the at home test she took a few weeks ago were wrong, that she wouldn't have to face the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially without Jason's support.

But now, as the reality of her situation sinks in, she can't help but feel utterly alone, trapped in the shadow of her mother's cruelty. Following down the same path she did when she was 18 but only she was 23, grown, and by herself.

"What am I going to do?" she whispers, tears falling to the ground.

A sudden movement in front of her face snapped Y/N out of her trance, her body jolting in response. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes.

The doctor slid back onto his stool, a warm smile on his face as he handed her a stack of pamphlets. "I’m very happy for you," he said, mistaking her tears for joy. "Here are some resources for young mothers. I know this must be an exciting, but overwhelming time. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you have any questions or concerns."

Y/N stared at the man, momentarily confused, until the reality of the situation came crashing back.

…

11:30am

Y/N stood in line at 'The Brew' coffee shop, the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping her like a comforting embrace, soft Russian music playing over the stereo. The rich scent of roasted beans mingled with the subtle sweetness of vanilla and caramel, instantly lifting her spirits.

As she waited patiently, her eyes wandered to the man next to her, who seemed lost in thought. He was engrossed in a conversation on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration, creating a series of deep lines that etched themselves into his forehead.

He shuffled his feet nervously, the movement causing the light to catch on the polished leather of his shoes. His gaze flickered to the menu before him, a brief moment of indecision flashing across his face, and Y/N found herself wondering what could be troubling him.

Unable to resist the urge to learn more, she stole a glance at him, admiring the way the soft, golden light of the café danced across his features. The angles of his jawline were sharp and defined, a stark contrast to the soft, inviting curve of his lips that seemed to beckon her closer.

As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned, and their eyes met. In that instant, the world seemed to slow down, the bustling noise of the café fading into the background as Y/N was enveloped in a moment of pure connection. His eyes, a mesmerizing blue, held her captive, sparkling with a hint of mischief that ignited a spark within her.

A confident smile spread across his face, and he leaned away slightly, speaking into the phone. “Alright Lukey, I gotta go.”

"Hey, you're my neighbor, right?" he asked, the recognition evident in his tone. "You live on Baker Street?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by his sudden acknowledgment. "Yes, I do."

Yet, as she spoke, Y/N felt her shyness begin to melt away, like frost under the warmth of his unwavering gaze. There was a magnetic pull to this stranger, an allure that she found herself inexplicably drawn to.

"I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand towards her. His movements were fluid and graceful, his arm cutting through the space between them with a sense of purpose.

As he reached out, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his fingers flexed, the tendons in his hand shifting beneath his skin like the strings of a finely tuned instrument.

Hesitating for only a moment, Y/N slipped her hand into his, relishing the gentle firmness of his grip. "It's nice to meet you, Jack," she replied, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she held his gaze, unwilling to be the first to break the connection.

He leaned against the counter, his gaze locked on Y/N, as if she was the only person in the crowded coffee shop. "I've been wondering when I'd get the chance to officially introduce myself."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with heat, suddenly keenly aware of his undivided attention. "I, um, I'm not usually one for small talk," she admitted, her words coming out in a flustered jumble.

Jack chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Lucky for you, I more than make up for that." He flashed her a dazzling smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm quite the chatterbox, as I'm sure you're about to find out."

Caught off guard by his confidence, Y/N found herself relaxing, drawn in by his easy charm. As the line moved forward, she fell into step beside him, her shoulders brushing against his as they approached the counter.

"So, what's your order of choice?" Jack asked, his gaze sweeping over the menu. "I'm a bit of a coffee connoisseur myself."

Y/N blinked, momentarily flustered by his proximity. "Um, usually anything caramel flavored, I think," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m leaning towards tea today though.”

Jack's lips curved into a grin. "Excellent choice. A classic, just like you."

"Can I have a banana muffin? And whatever she's getting, we're together." Jack said, flashing the barista a charming smile.

The barista nodded, punching in the order as Y/N stood there, momentarily stunned by Jack's gesture. She managed to give a small smile, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"After you," Jack said, gesturing towards the pickup counter. He placed a gentle hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch, her nerves alight. As they waited for their order, Jack turned to her, his sapphire eyes sparkling. “Just a green tea please. And a banana muffin too.” She added, meeting jack’s eyes for a second.

"Such a gentleman," y/n teased. Jack laughed, flashing her a wink. He turned towards the seating area, gesturing for Y/N to follow. "Come on, let's find a cozy spot."

Y/N felt herself being drawn along by his infectious energy, her feet moving almost of their own accord as she trailed behind him. He led them to a small table by the window, pulling out a chair for her before taking a seat across from her.

She didn’t know what to do with herself as she took the seat he offered, settling in across from him. The way he was looking at her, with such open curiosity and intrigue, made her heart race.

"So, Y/N, tell me - what brings you to this fine establishment on this lovely day?" Jack asked, leaning back in his chair and regarding her with a playful smile.

Y/N felt herself relax slightly under his warm gaze. "Just my usual coffee run, nothing too exciting," she admitted shyly.

"Ah, but any day that starts with a chance encounter like this is anything but ordinary," Jack countered, his eyes twinkling. "You've got nowhere else to be, right? No urgent errands or appointments calling your name?"

Y/N shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, nothing pressing that I can think of."

"Excellent." Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "Then you won't mind if I take the opportunity to learn more about the mysterious neighbor from Baker Street?"

…

Jack's eyes crinkled with delight as the barista arrived with their order, setting down a steaming latte in front of Y/N and a banana muffin alongside it.

"Ah, perfect timing," he said, flashing the barista a grateful smile. The scent of the baked treat mingled with the rich aroma of coffee, creating a tantalizing combination that did little to calm her already frazzled nerves.

Glancing down at her phone, she quickly typed out a message to her friend Heather, her fingers trembling slightly. 'You're never going to believe this, but this unbelievably gorgeous guy just bought me a coffee and we're sitting at a table together! I'm honestly freaking out right now - I have no idea what to do.'

She hit send, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed the phone back on the table, unsure of what to do next.

Y/N couldn't help but sneak a peek at Jack, who was leaning back in his chair, a warm smile playing on his lips as he took a contemplative sip of his own coffee. The way the morning light danced across his striking features only served to heighten his already captivating presence.

 "So, Y/N, what do you do for a living?" he asked, his gaze warm and curious. "I have a feeling there's more to you than just your 'usual coffee run'." His gaze latched back onto hers, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks at his words, both flattered and flustered by his obvious interest. "Well, I, uh, I sometimes write for a sports magazine," she stammered, her heart fluttering erratically. "And I'm also working on a couple of novels in my spare time."

Jack's face lit up with delight, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he studied her intently. "A writer, huh? That's incredibly impressive. What kind of sports do you cover?"

"A little bit of everything, really," Y/N replied, slowly beginning to relax under the warmth of his gaze. "But I do have a particular fondness for hockey as of recently. There's just something about the intensity of the game that I find absolutely captivating. The fighting, the crowd, just a mix of all of it."

"Hockey, you say?" Jack's eyes gleamed with unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, as it happens, I'm a bit of a hockey player myself. I actually play for the Jersey Devils as a defenseman."

Y/N's eyes widened in genuine surprise, her earlier nerves temporarily forgotten. "What! Well, tell me about it. Do you enjoy it?"

Jack chuckled, the rich sound sending a shiver down Y/N's spine. "Well, then I'd be more than happy to regale you with tales of my hockey exploits." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But only if you promise to share some of your own stories in return."

She extended her pinky, a silent invitation, waiting for him to entwine his with hers, sealing their promise in a tender gesture.

Jack gently raised his hand to the table, his eyes fixed on hers, as he tenderly entwined his larger pinky with hers, sealing their promise with a heartfelt gesture.

The two fell into an easy conversation, trading stories and sharing their passions. Y/N found herself captivated by Jack's easy charm and infectious enthusiasm, and before long, the lunch rush began to fill the coffee shop.

"Maybe I should let you get back to your day," Y/N said reluctantly, glancing around at the growing crowd, a twinge of disappointment tugging at her heart.

But Jack's eyes held a glimmer of pleading, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers in a gesture that sent electricity coursing through her veins.

"Or you could stay a little longer?" he suggested, his voice low and hopeful. "I'm quite enjoying our chat, and I'd hate for it to end so soon."

Y/N hesitated, her heart palpitating in its cage. This was all so unexpected, but there was something about Jack that made her want to throw caution to the wind.

Taking a deep breath, she offered him a shy smile, her nerves and excitement mingling in equal measure. "You know, I think I'd like that. And maybe, if you're free sometime, we could, um, grab dinner?"

Jack's face lit up with a dazzling smile. "I'd love nothing more," he said, quickly pulling out his phone. "Here, let me give you my number. I can't wait to take you out."

As Jack typed away, Y/N felt a surge of giddiness. This was all so new and exciting, and she couldn't help but wonder where this chance encounter might lead. One thing was certain, though – she was more than ready to find out.

Jack made her feel - seen, heard, and utterly captivated.

…

14:00 pm

I debated including this, but I felt so giddy and in love with writing I couldn’t help it. I’m just a sucker for some pure love.

***A gentle breeze caressed her face, carrying with it the scent of springtime The world around her seemed to burst with vibrant color - the lush, verdant hues of the trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze.

The myriad shades of pink and purple adorning the blooming flowers that lined the sidewalk, and the vast, azure sky overhead, dotted with wispy clouds that danced languidly across the heavens.

It was as if the entire city had been painted with a master's brush, each detail a testament to nature's radiant beauty.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her camera, her fingers trembling with excitement as she began to weave through the bustling streets.

In the nearby park, she captured the laughter of happy families, their faces aglow with pure, unadulterated joy as they swung gleefully on the playground or tossed a Frisbee back and forth, their movements fluid and carefree.

Further down the path, a lonely man sat on a bench, tossing a well-worn tennis ball to his faithful canine companion. As the dog bounded after it, his tail wagging furiously, a warm smile spread across the man's face, his eyes crinkling with a contentment that seemed to radiate outwards, touching all who witnessed the tender exchange.

Y/N couldn't resist the urge to capture these fleeting moments, her camera shutter clicking rapidly as she sought to preserve the beauty that surrounded her.

Every step she took seemed to reveal another breathtaking sight - a young couple sharing a picnic lunch on the lush, verdant grass, their bodies intertwined as they leaned into one another's embrace, and a group of elderly friends chatting animatedly on a park bench, their laughter carrying on the gentle breeze.

Each snapshot felt like a love letter to the world, Y/N's heart swelled with a sense of wonder, her steps light and airy as she continued her walk home.

With each snapshot she captured, she couldn't help but see the reflection of Jack in the scenes that unfolded before her.

The joyful laughter of the families in the park reminded her of the way Jack's eyes had crinkled with delight during their conversation. The lonely man's smile as he played with his dog mirrored the warmth and kindness that Jack had exuded so effortlessly.

And the tender embrace of the picnicking couple evoked the gentle way Jack's fingers had brushed against her own, sending electricity coursing through her veins.

It was as if the entire world had conspired to remind her of the captivating man she had just met, weaving his essence into the very fabric of her surroundings.

Y/N found herself wondering what she and Jack must have looked like, huddled together in the cozy coffee shop, their heads bent close as they shared stories and laughter like old friends.

The thought brought a smile to her lips, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of giddiness at the realization that this chance encounter had the potential to blossom into something truly special. Jack's colors had painted the world around her, and she couldn't wait to see what other hues he might bring into her life.***

…

14:30 pm

Y/N closed the door behind her, the solid wood frame pressing against her back as she leaned into it, letting out a deep, contented breath.

A smile slowly crept across her face, unbidden and unwilling, as she buried her face in her hands, momentarily overcome by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

Slowly, almost reverently, her hands drifted down to her stomach, fingertips gently caressing the barely-there swell that held the promise of new life.

"Maybe this can be good for us," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud would somehow make them more real.

Suddenly, a flash of self-consciousness washed over her, and Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. Had she really just been giddily daydreaming like some lovestruck schoolgirl?

The moment of levity was short-lived, however, as a familiar voice broke the silence, cutting through the haze of her thoughts.

"You just gonna stand there and be weird, or are you gonna come sit down?" Heather said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

Y/N's head snapped up, a sheepish look crossing her features as she nodded and made her way to the couch, her steps tentative and uncertain. "Sorry, I, uh, I was just..." Her voice trailed off, unsure of how to even begin explaining the maelstrom of emotions that had overtaken her.

Heather watched her fondly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You're being strange today," she observed, her tone laced with affection. "But I can't say I'm surprised, considering what you told me earlier."

Y/N could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she settled onto the cushions, her movements almost cautious, as if she were trying to contain the giddiness that threatened to spill out.

Unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face, she shook her head in a half-hearted attempt to downplay her excitement. "I know, I know," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it’s exciting, you know?"

Heather chuckled, reaching out to give Y/N's hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes crinkling with warmth and understanding. "I can see that.”

…

19:47 pm

Later that night, Y/N ran her fingers lovingly over the smooth surface of her stomach, the gesture almost reverent as she finished her nightly cleansing routine.

Just as she set down her phone, the familiar chime of a new message caught her attention, and a giddy smile instantly blossomed on her face as she saw Jack's name on the screen.

Sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, Y/N eagerly opened the message, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

"Hey there, beautiful," Jack's text read, the words sending a flutter through Y/N's chest. "I was just thinking about you and that lovely smile of yours. How about we make it a date tomorrow night? I know this amazing little Italian place that I think you're going to love."

Y/N's fingers hovered over the screen, poised to type a response, but a twinge of hesitation gripped her. The news of her pregnancy weighed heavily on her mind, a secret that both excited and frightened her in equal measure.

She knew she should tell him, but doubt crept in, insidious and persistent. After all, she and Jack weren't even officially dating yet. Their relationship, while promising, was still new and undefined.

The thought of burdening him with this life-altering news so early on felt unfair, potentially derailing the tender connection they had begun to forge. What if the prospect of fatherhood sent him running?

Shaking off her doubts, Y/N decided to throw caution to the wind. "A date, huh? Well, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet," she typed, adding a flirtatious wink emoji for good measure before hitting send.

Almost immediately, her phone chimed with Jack's response, and Y/N could practically hear the warmth and charm in his voice. "Only the best for my favorite writer," he replied, followed by a string of heart-eyed emojis. "I'll pick you up at 7 sharp. Dress to impress, beautiful."

Y/N couldn't help but grin, a giddiness bubbling up inside her. "It's a date," she replied, adding a playful wink emoji for good measure.

As she set her phone aside, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her.

Just hours ago, she had been a bundle of nerves, unsure of how to navigate this newfound connection. But now, with Jack's invitation in hand, she felt a renewed sense of excitement and possibility.

Sure, the news of her pregnancy was daunting, but she couldn't help but wonder if, just maybe, this could be the start of something truly special.

After all, Jack had already shown himself to be a charming, attentive, and genuinely interested companion. Perhaps, with a little bit of courage, she could find the right moment to share this life-changing news with him.

…

Tag List <3

@fearfam69691 @alwaysclassyeagle, @rebelatbay, @dancerbailey3

@snailss, @dasiysthings, @shawnshoney

[icarusredwings]

"I guess I'm not used to the

silence

Chapter 4

1/2

Me and My Husband

Wade took 'I fucked the reaper' too seriously. And now he's dead.

Cw: Death, Descriptions of pain, Voices, Character death, Depictions of Heaven, Hell and the Universe, child death.

An apology post

Some asshole always told him… The end of one thing leads to the start of the beginning. Who was that you might ask? Some strange doctor guy who absolutely was kookoo bananas. That's who.

Though.. He was right.

Wade gasps loudly, shifting to sit up. It's bright. Too bright. Lifting a hand to cover the sunlight through the clouds, he rolled his eyes. “Oh no fucking way.. I'm not going to heaven! None of my friends will be there- HA! Oscar Wilde. Man.. what a riot that guy was-”

“Wade.”

A voice says, a figure blocking the sun, the light wrapping around her to make her look ethereal.

“Oh, damn. An angel.” He mutters, realizing that he could talk again, hand coming to his throat as he rubbed it gently. A sigh of relief washes over him as he had his skin back. His true self. Scarred permanently.

She waits patiently for a couple of minutes, letting him steal a few breaths, allowing him to feel all over himself, checking to see if his toes were broken again, rubbing his legs and his arms, and patting his cheeks. This was normal for those who finally got to pass. Especially if in such pain when they left. Her soon to be husband was no exception.

“Not quite, sweetheart.” She whispers, smiling down at him. The true, original angel of death.

Wade squints, then gasps, reaching up to the cloaked woman. “My lady!! Hey babe! What's shakin’? Hopefully your boney ass.”

She chuckles, shaking her head softly. “As much as I do enjoy your playful attempts to initiate, now is not the time for that, my love.”

He frowns “Aw.. why not?” He looks at her like a child pouting, not wanting to leave the park despite the park being closed after a long day.

“Do you know what you just did?” She questions, shifting to sit close to him in the yellow grain.

“Died?” This was obviously A no brainer. He only got to see her after that. That was kkiiinndd of their whole thing.

“Yes but.. Look.” She gestures around them.

The skies were dark, the fields went for miles, the sun only lighting the clouds enough to shine down on them both as he could see a thunderstorm rolling in from the distance, hot flashes of lightning appearing over them once in a while. The storm looked as if it were coming closer, but the wind was changing directions, softly blowing the wheat in all different ways. The storm was metaphorical Wade guessed, how death was always in view, waiting for you. The whole place was absolutely gloomsville. Like a tornado coming and wiping through all you could see, leaving nothing but ruins and godlike light to flow over all who survived.

“It's beautiful.. but you've never brought me here before.”

His Lady says nothing, grinning gently as she lets him figure it out for himself. He's waited far too long for this, there was no point in stealing his thunder. Besides, watching him go through the phases of thinking was always adorable. He was so expressive, each look causing you to guess what he was thinking.

Finally, he gasped again. A eureka moment.

“Wait wait wait… so… I'm dead? Like.. actually dead?? I did it!? I died!?” In almost all of her time doing this, she has never once found anyone so excited to see her, let alone ecstatic for her to bring him home then Wade Winston Wilson. In all of the universe, he had to be one of her favorites. There were others sure, just as Wade had his others, but he would jump into her arms the moment she arrived.

Not cry and shoo her away. Beg her for more time or call her the devil. She was tired of being screamed at. Tired of people calling her cruel. She wasn't cruel. If she was cruel, would she have taken Wade before he could drown in his own internal blood? Before his body failed him? If she was cruel like they said, why would she comfort each and every person she must take? Why would she bother speaking to them so softly and kindly answer the questions that they had for her?

“Yes, darling!” She matched his excitement, as she often did when deserved. He grabs her hands, holding them lovingly as he smiles widely. “Fucking Finally!! You look different though..”

“This is my domain so this is my body.” She says to him, allowing Wade to take her hand, kissing it as he always did. Each knuckle got their own kiss, as he said ‘They got lonely.’ Which was physically impossible because knuckles were not sentient. What a goofball.

Once each knuckle was kissed, he glanced up at her with a sneaky smile. “So If im picking up what you're lying down- in which I most certainly will… Your ass is in fact.. not.. boney anymore?”

“Would you like to find out?” She asks, giving him those teasing eyes.

“Well yeah that's why I asked…Oh..OH- You mean? Fuck yes! I love that and we'll get to that later, I definitely won't forget but.. do you like your new body?” He asks, by now having subconsciously began to pluck the wheat, beginning to braid it together. He always did like making her flower crowns, even if they died the moment they touched her.

Now, It wasn’t often someone took Death aback, But I suppose she chose him as her eternal partner for a reason. “Do I.. like my body?”

“Yeah” He says casually, tying off part of the wheat crown. “I've never liked mine much but.. I think I do now. And you don't have to change yourself for me. I meant what I said.” There was a pause as he strung the end through the tie he made. “I'd fuck you bones and all..” It was a quiet whisper. Intimate. A mutter under his breath as if it were common sense. None different than saying peaches were pink, the mirroring color of her cheeks.

Blinking, she thought for a second. No one has ever asked Death if she enjoyed her own appearance. Let alone someone who has been so desperate to hold her since- well since they first met.

“..Do you not like it?” She asks, confused. Now, Death knew she was extremely beautiful. Either way. But she thought Wade would be all over her by now. Why was he so… Calm..?

“That's not what I asked, M’lady. I asked If you like yourself. Not if I do. But yes, I think you're smokin’ either way, babe.” Wade's head was quiet. Focused. Attention fully on her.

Death is quiet too. Thinking.

He hums to fill the silence. A soft melody.

Death wonders, she knew Wade was quite the romantic, gentlemanly even, but he seemed different. He seemed… Cared for.

In a way she didn't remember providing.

“Yes..”

“Yes that you like your body?”

She nods. “I do..”

He smiles at her, widely with those big white eyes of his. They reflected the sun perfectly, reminding her of pearls from the ocean. Reaching up, He puts the crown on her, watching as it wilts before putting his fingers together like a camera. “Perfect…stunning. Give me a pose!”

Have you ever seen Death blush? Wade has. Very often in fact. She looks down, embarrassed before shifting, leaning back on her arms, tugging up her robe a bit.

“Gorgeous. The camera loves ya, Darlin’!” He teases playfully, snapping a few imaginary photos before she sighs, staring at him with this sense of serenity. How could anyone hurt someone so sweet..? How could they? She was fully aware of Wade's work. She respected it highly for obvious reasons, but even out of work, he made her feel… Mushy.

Warm.

Like she was alive. It was disgusting..retched, foul..

And she wanted more of it.

“How long have we known each other, Wade?” She asks, watching as he starts on his own crown, pulling his legs up to focus, his tongue poking out the same way he used to in special ops when they put him on sniper.

“I wanna say almost 20 years. But I have a feeling you're going to tell me longer.”

She nods, shifting to lean against him. “Much longer. Closer to 30 now if we're going by earth time.”

“Oh yeah? But I thought..” he tries to recall how old he was when they first met, how old he was now, and wondered how old she was. A small giggle came from him. Man she must be a cougar by now, huh? There's no way she was anywhere near an appropriate age for him. Oh well... Logan wasn't either.

“I have known you since you threw that grenade at me.” She whispers.

“Oh yeaahh! I remember that. I could never forget those eyes…I thought it would be a good idea.”

“Wade.. You thought it would be a good idea to throw a grenade at me, tackle me out of the way, and then present the pull tab to me as a ring?”

He shrugs. “Still sounds romantic to me.”

She chuckles, putting her hand in front of his face as he finally notices the ring.

He pauses in disbelief. “.. is..”

“It's the same one.”

“Does that mean I've been married for 30 years!?” He says, Groaning, then pouting.

“Oh mann!! My marriage isn't even legal!?”

“Mmh…engaged..actually.” She wanted to tell him No. That his marriage on earth was not valid, jealous that Logan got to marry him first. She's already taken Vanessa for that same reason but thought this was too cruel. But… She thought he's been through enough today. “It's different.” Death admits. “The universe doesn't have laws to capitalize on Love.”

“Fuck yeah! I love the universe!”

She lets out a giggle, before sighing, enjoying her time with him. By now he would have gone back. It felt amazing to actually have him. To hold him. For him to be hers once and for all.

Though.. something seemed off. He was thinking about something. She knew he was. He was too quiet. “...Most.. people.. have questions by now.” She says, slowly.

Wade nods. “I know..” It's barely a whisper.

She frowns, sitting back up. “What's wrong?”

He shakes his head, dismissively. “Nothing I just.. I guess I'm not used to the silence..”

“It is very peaceful here.” She says, watching as he finishes his wheat crown, putting it on with a wide smile. “What do you think?”

“I think..” She runs her hand down his arm, to his leg. “You look like a prince.”

“Oh, My dear you seem to have forgotten. If you're my Queen, then that makes me King.”

“Mmmmh no.”

“Alright then. Prince it is.” He agrees, instantly submitting to the idea of not being a king. It was far too much work anyway. He preferred to sit around and look pretty, let his Queen do all the work.

Over the course of 2 weeks.. at least… Wade thought so, not actually sure how long it's been but it felt close to that- They got married. Moved into her home, learned a lot about down here, and overall was happy. This entire time he hasn't felt an ounce of unwanted pain, feeling her nails scratching his back but other than that? No. His skin didn't itch, his bones didn't ache, he could even eat whatever he wanted without throwing it back up. Lady said that by rights he shouldn't be able to eat here but she made an exception.

He felt... normal.

It was gross.

Between tackling her in the field, the bed, the couch, and anywhere else she gave him a small tease, he was currently on his stomach, drawing a picture of them getting married, except he was the one being carried in a white dress.

It's been like this for a bit. She would go out for work and he would lounge around the house. There wasn't much to clean or cook so he just did little things like go outside, gather up more flowers and bring them back in to put in the vase, watching them die the moment he set them down. “Hm… Well that sucks. Oh well.” He'd say. He'd go through the closet of clothes, trying them on and seeing which he preferred, meeting her each evening to ask how her day has been, tell her what he did, and ask if there was anything else he could do for her.

Usually, the answer was no, but today she was holding something in her arms.

“Whatcha got there, gorgeous?” Wade hums, getting up as he brings the drawing to the fridge, pinning it with a magnet shaped like a taco.

“A baby.”

“Aww- wait- is he mine!? I thought that took longer!? And why is he so big? You know what, nevermind I don't care. Gimme gimme gimme!” He gasps at first, eyes lighting up with excitement as he puts his arms out.

“He's not yours Wade.”

“Aw shucks. We'll have to fix that later. As for now- Give!”

“He has to go,Wade.”

“I know!”

“So you can not get attached to him. Understand? His life is over.”

She of all people has overlooked him for decades now? Watching his heart swell 6 times its size the first time he even saw Vanessa let alone all those other small things.. between Theresa and those guys in the army. His heart was so large but never truly full. He could love forever and she thinks it's part of the reason he adored her so. One needed great patience and a true love for mother nature to understand the ongoing death and rebirth of life. To wait for her until his final end. And now he finally had it.

“Oh.. I can still hold him though right?”

She smiles, almost melting. “Even death is so kind to allow a child one last embrace of warmth.. you know that.”

She hands him the baby and Wade instantly begins coeing, nuzzling the boy's head and bouncing him. “Awww what a sweet.. er”

“Andrew.”

“Awww cute little andrew. How’d ya die buddy?”

“Car crash…”

“Oh… poor thing.” He gives the baby a couple of kisses and a good squeeze.

“Where's your mama? Hm? Or just you?” He asks the child, who gabbed nonsense.

“Oh yeah?? Bitch left ya? Don't worry. We'll look after you. Won't we babe?”

“Wade… no. He must go now.”

This was what she worried about. Worried that he would become upset once Andrew had to leave, but She knew how much Wade loved babies… if only she could have her own… she wondered if she would be a good mother before shaking her head. No. Death can never bare children. Not in a way in which she would ever get to meet them anyway-

“Oh.. right… well- where's he going? Surely babies don't go to hell?”

She gives him a sympathetic look. “Oh sweetheart… there is no hell.”

“Ooohh okay. I was wondering how I got into heaven.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her. She laughs quietly. “No honey. There's no “true” heaven either. He's going back to the universe.”

There was actually both Heaven AND Hell but the majority of writers got it wrong. The majority of mortals assumed that heaven was all clouds and lights, robes and wings but in truth Heaven was much more of an Office. A well lit, perfect temperature, never behind or over worked office. With mandatory 5 weeks vacation and paid maternity leave. That is… if angels could HAVE children. Such a silly thing to think about.

Hell on the other hand was in fact on fire. But not because of pitchforks and hellflame, more like because the fax machine was overheating and finally caught ablaze. Yes there was torture and agony for eternity but this was because hell did NOT have mandatory vacation and would fire you if you even LOOKED with child. How could you not be miserable if you are handed 50 new cases every single minute of every day until the end of all time itself?

“Wha-what do you mean? You're just going to throw him into space?? All alone?”

“He won't be alone darling. He has the entire plane of all things known to look after him.”

“Oh…”

She noticed that he was struggling to understand. Oh poor humans. Their brains could never comprehend such things.

“Think of it like this.. how many stars are there in the sky?”

“We think about two trillion but I have a feeling you're going to tell me somethin’ different, yeah?”

“Well… Think of all those stars as souls who have passed on.”

“Hm..What do they turn into?” He scratches his head.

“Energy.”

“So.. they're stars?”

“No. Just shapeless energy ready to form something new.”

“If you think about it.. Stars ARE shapeless energy.”

“Good point.”

“So…How long does that take? To be reincarnated or whatever?” His wrist flicks around a bit, gesturing to the child who was just sent off.

“Your idea of reincarnation is much different than the truth. But to answer your question..It can take forever if the universe deems it.” She smiles upwards. “Do you have any more questions?” She loved answering his questions. Wade was much more curious and intelligent that he let on in the mortal realm and it made her newfound skin tingle.

“...How are we in space right now if the underworld is.. you know.. Under?”

“Ah, that's a good one. Try not to think about places in time as a construct my dear. Time itself isn't even a straight flowing line.. people just think it is because it's easier that way. Little Andrew here is already an adult somewhere.” She smiles, shoulder to shoulder with him as she watches the ‘Star’ move far away, going where the universe needs it.

“He is?”

“Sometime.. yes.”

“...does he remember us?” Wade asks, asking about Andrew yes, but he was actually referring to himself, curious if he would start to lose his earthly memories.

“No. I'm afraid not. If he's lucky he will have some remembrance of his life, but I doubt it because he was so young.”

Wade thinks for a moment. “Where do his memories go?”

“They're dispersed throughout the ‘stars’ just as he was.” It was actually much more complicated than that but eh- this was much simpler. He frowns, processing. (It was a lot easier now that there weren't other people screaming in his head- at least, not as loud.)

“... so.. one day I'll be nothing.. forever… and all of the memories, all the things i've seen… will be gone? Kaput?”

She ponders, thinking if it were possible to keep him here and still retain his memories. Any other human would have their mind wiped by now but she made the exception and now was trying to think of a way to explain this.

“Y-you mean one day Im gonna get sucked up into that and My head, my shoulders, knees and toes, AND my eyes and my body and me are going to disappear?!” He asks, upset.

This, Obviously was a no no for her.

Shaking her head, she took his hand. “No. You won't. You might forget things that are unimportant to you, but you will remember everything that makes you..well.. You. There's no need to worry. You'll still have your body. Over time it will become like mine, but, It's not that bad really. You can't feel a thing.” She explains.

Taking a breath, He sighs heavily before whispering. “...But I want to feel..”

“What? Why?”

“I need to feel, Hope.”

The woman pauses, tilting her head. It wasn't often Wade said her true name.

“Why would you want to feel pain?”

“I-” he starts, eyes darting back and forth as he looks over the expression on his face.

“...Pain is what keeps me alive..”

Her head tilts the other way.

“Not anymore. You don't have to be in pain ever again.”

He shook his head. “That's not what I mean, babe. Without pain, I can't feel. Without feelings… There's no point in living..”

Hope is silent. She can't remember the last time she was ligitamently alive but.. this feeling she felt in her chest when he spoke to her so sweetly was the closest thing She had to that.

“..But.. you aren't alive, Wade..” She whispers, Watching him come to the realization that this was serious. This is it.

Wade Winston Wilson is Dead...with a capital D.

[ravenmichaelisstuff]

Just thought about Ghost learning to enjoy small things (mostly food) in his life through coffee.

//Fluff

So here is the idea:

Ghost always preferred tea over coffee.

Tea was something soothing and calming, something he could drink to fall asleep easier. He enjoyed the taste which was kind of herbal and pleasant on his tongue. Even the process of making it, the routine of waiting for the tea leaves to do their magic, pouring just a bit of milk, waiting for the tea to cool off just a bit so it didn't burn his lips.

Tea was a luxury, something he did because he wanted to, but he also did it rarely for the exact same reason. He rarely felt the need to satisfy himself with things he just simply enjoy.

Coffee on the other hand was a necessity. Something he had to pour into himself usually boiling hot and straight out of the kettle. The beverage was bitter and heavy on his pallet, almost nauseating and leaving this awful aftertaste in his mouth.

But it was necessary for him to drink it. He needed it to wake up and get through the day after a night of terrors.

He for a long time didn't understand how Soap could enjoy this.

But then he noticed Soap making his coffee every morning.

Taking his time every morning.

Sometimes adding various syrups

chocolate,

ice,

and whipped cream.

Ghost at some points doubted if Soap was for sure still drinking coffee.

But he was curious, so one morning he asked Soap to make him a cup too.

And he was surprised when Johnny asked him "With what Lt?".

And Ghost realized that he had no idea what he actually enjoyed. He never paid attention to those things, he never actually bought anything for himself 'just because he thought he would like it' except tea.

So he told Soap to surprise him. And he actually did.

Because when Soap's coffee wasn't even close to his tea, he did enjoy it.

It was sweet, creamy and cool- maybe even refreshing.

So he began to ask Soap for coffee every morning. And with time he developed a taste for things. An enjoyment for a chocolate latte with whipped cream and brown sugar sprinkled on top.

Yes, it was atrocious and probably shouldn't even be called a coffee. But he liked it.

And he noticed that Johnny started to serve him small snacks with his latte.

Some he despised, some he liked and some became his absolute favourite. Soap would always get him more of those which made Ghost mutter in approval or close his eyes in enjoyment.

Soon Soap could vaguely say which snacks Ghost would enjoy.

They learned Ghost likes milk chocolate but not dark chocolate. He didn't like gummies and banana-flavoured things- it tastes artificial.

Soap cringed when he bought some liquorice candy for Ghost, just to fuck with him a bit just to realize that the bastard actually loved that black excuse of a candy.

But what was nice was the fact that when they were both on supply runs, Ghost began to... kind of look longer at things at the store. He never actually took those things himself- but Soap was always sure to snatch those things and put them in their cart.

Ghost silently appreciated that.

It was a long road for Ghost to learn that he can have nice things just because he feels like it.

But one special day in a grocery store, when he and Soap were already heading to check out. Ghost stopped and grabbed a pack of marshmallows and before he put it in the cart he looked at Soap like he would be denied this sweet snack.

But Soap only smiled at him.

"Didn't know you like marshmallows, Lt."

"I don't know if I do... I never had them."

"Well, it's a great time to try!"

And Soap smiled the whole way to base because Ghost finally wanted something for himself.

I don't know what I mean by that, I just kind of went with the flow. Sometimes I Just get the urge to write about those two, you know?

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Think of concept art, but in the form of a fic. This is Finn's OB concept fic, just a vague idea

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Paint

They were there. They were watching. Watching him. Watching, waiting, all eyes on him. Empty black sockets trained on him.

Paint them. Paint them, and you'll feel better. Yes, that's what he always did. Paint them, it'll make everything more bearable.

There was no colour this time. Thick, sticky, black paint was poured onto... something. Was it a canvas? Maybe. He couldn't remember.

The paint was too numerous and thick for the brush. It lay abandoned on the floor, dripping in black.

Fingers worked better. Faster. Caked in black paint that never seemed to run out, they raked across the rough surface in twists and turns, curves and loops.

Paint stained his hands and trailed up his arms. It clung to his hair and leaked down his face like thick, cold tears.

Crying. They were crying now. Ear-piercing, skull-splitting wails that were far from natural. This was wrong. They had never made a sound before. Only in his dream would they sob and whisper and wail.

His fingers left the canvas, and he covered his ears and slumped to the floor. He opened his mouth- to do what, he didn't know- only to find himself choking on pitch black paint that spewed forth wildly.

Stop. Make it stop. Make them stop staring, stop crying. Make the paint stop flowing.

Who was he asking? He didn't know. Someone. Anyone. Anyone who would listen. He just wanted this to end. He wanted it to be quiet. He wanted it to be peaceful. It was too loud. Too much noise.

They wouldn't stop crying.

...........................................

A/N: I hope ya'll enjoyed this experimental fic. There's a ton of stuff I cut from the original draft.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @kitwasnothere @cynthinesia @krenenbaker @jaylleoo14 @whspermy-name @theleechyskrunkly @officialdaydreamer00 @the-banana-0verlord @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer @jovieinramshackle @casp1an-sea

@ramshacklerumble @poisoned-pearls :P

[blingblong55]

gaaahh I love your platonic TF141 x reader!! I was wonder if we could get some more, but for a Gn!Reader?

for context I find it hard to swap pronouns when reading, but if not that's fine lol!

and if you want, have some writing prompts!

-Southern!Reader gets drunk, acting like a fool, they're accent the strongest it's ever been, and TF141 is just "wtf are they even saying?"

-general shenanigans with Gaz and Reader, pranking ghost >:]

-SNOW DAY! the boys have the day off, and it ends up with a snowball fight, soap, ghost, and reader VS. gaz, price, and könig (yes I added him I am a simp for this man)

-Reader gets hit on in public, and 141 acts like big brothers + father and beat the crap outa whoever was unfortunate enough to pick on Reader

-DAD PRICE. just. him teaching Reader things, giving pointers, and being protective off-field

anyways sorry for the long ask! hope your doing well :]

Sweet Creature -141+König

ofc! I always try to make my readers comfortable when reading so never shy away for asking this!

This is a collection of moments your boys have been through with you...(there is mentions of an American reader, but if you please it can only apply to the first one.)

GN! Reader, Plantonic! Relationship

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(I had to look up southern sayings so if this part doesn't make sense I apologize. (feeling too brit today..sorry))

After a much needed out in the town 141 had been deployed to, r/n decided it would be great to compete against Soap in a drinking game. Drink after drink, your once good basic American accent left your lips and was soon replaced with your souther accent. Price at first found it funny, until he couldn't tell exactly what you were trying to say.

Gaz: that was until I dropped it all

R/n to Ghost: That's 'bout as useful as tits on a bull, wouldn't ya'say?

Price: *chuckles* what does that even mean kid?

R/n: o' bless ya heart sir (apparently it means idiot,,,so don't come for me) y'dumber than a mule

*a woman passes by their table and Gaz starts checking her out*

R/n: look at him price, he's grinnin' like a possum eatin' a sweet tater

Price: seriously what does that mean?

Ghost: think they mean he looks like a dumb arse

Gaz stands up to try and talk to that woman

R/n: soap tell em somethin'

Soap: go get her tiger

R/n: No, no,,,you hold your horses now...she ain't even turn to ya and yo're hotter than hell al'ready?

Price: right...let's get you home r/n

R/n: I can take 'nother one....

Ghost: not today *he picks you up and off to base you go*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After an uneventful evening Gaz and r/n decided to annoy Ghost, a ritual Price had gotten used to, after Ghost came in to complain every week. Price would always discard them because he loved having his children smile and be young and happy.

There was one time where you placed syrup on his tea. Another time, you kept calling his phone, pretending to be some religious group, this went on for 3 months. One time you made him believe the whole base left him, you stole his phone and clothes, best believe you never saw the devil until that day.

2 weeks ago, Ghost was tricked into eating some expired MRE, that man got sick so easily, Gaz was tricked into taking the blame. Meanwhile you enjoyed some banana with soap as Ghost chased Gaz for 30 minutes, until you tripped Gaz and ran to price.

R/n: dumb bitch!*you ran so fast, soap swore it was you being chased*

----

This happened at 2 am, Ghost's room.

You and gaz know how much ghost hates dirty bed sheets. So you did this:

Gaz: r/n pass me the chocolate

R/n: why are we doing this again?

Gaz: its fun

R/n: how will this even work?

Gaz: it'll melt under his body and make it look like he shat himself

R/n: this is so cool

Gaz: shh

you two walked into Ghost's room, he was dead asleep, when he shifted to his left side, Gaz placed the chocolate near his bum, you two successfully ran out and waited outside all morning.

Ghost opens his door, anger flowing through him

Ghost: where are these little twats

That's when you and Gaz ran away to Price's office, he eventually caught up and complained to Price. (I'm picturing that office scene when Dwight and Jim are complaining to Micheal. Yes, the American one. )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

This time the team was deployed to Switzerland, for everyone it all felt like home, spring and summer was quite lovely, that's until Price was told this deployment would be longer that expected. Winter rolled in, everyone was prepared for a harsh winter, except you, who had never experienced snow. You had told soap how every year when you're away from home, snow has hit hard, and that you had never seen snow in real life.

This had become a perfect opportunity for him to show you how much you meant for the team. So once he had told price about the sad story of yours, they planned an entire day out.

Soap: c'mon r/n its time for your surprise.

He bought you gloves and a scarf,( he knows how easily it is to get cold.) Once outside, you ran around screaming in delight. "This is awesome!" you said as you tackled soap onto the snow.

Gaz was the one who started the snowball fight. Price took his side. Ghost and soap took yours. Poor König was stuck in the middle, deciding who to join, until price dragged him to his side and that's when the fight seriously started.

(Picture that SpongeBob snowball fight)

Soap tripped multiple times, your face was covered in snow because you couldn't stop laughing at him. Ghost did most of the dirty work, he seriously took this serious.

He pulled you both down, "right, so while I get price, r/n you get König, he'll feel bad for throwing things at a midget and quit, gaz will soon give up, so soap he is all yours.

"That was mean man" you said but all he did was push you to the floor, where you got stuck for 2 minutes. He eventually helped you up and continued the fight.

Even though he was a trained soldier, König never threw anything at any of you, he was too afraid of getting anybody injured. Best believe this man walked out and waited until things became friendly. He eventually built a snowman. The same one soap ran through. "awh, my snow friend" he sadly spoke. (please imagine this with his cute little Austrian accent and his giant figure just looking down and picking up the sticks and hat from his snowman..)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

This time around you encouraged the team to go out once more. It was September in some other country. After years of working with your boys you never expected them to be your guard dogs. You went up to the bar to order your drinks, until two people walked up behind you and sat at the stools beside you. (I'll let ya decided on the gender ;) )

"What is a cute thing like you doing around this place" one spoke, while the other got too close for comfort.

" Look whatever it is..I'm not interested" you answered,

The guys know you're able to fend for yourself, after all they've seen you kill men with your bare hands, but you had become their little sibling. They all swore to protect you no matter how big or small your problems were.

"You're just here by yourself love?" the other said, while reaching for you.

Price tapped that persons shoulder, "leave them alone," as price spoke to them, soap took you and brought you to the other side. "You stay here, understood?" he cupped your face in his hand.

All you did was nod. "good" he walked away and the four men took them out the back. "you don't touch them ever, or else I swear you'll go back home in a bag" Ghost towered over them,

"this is nonsense, they aren't even good looking!" one said.

(this is very...manners maketh man...vibes )

Price swung and hit ones jaw, "you fuck!" they said holding onto their face. "run you pricks" gaz threatened. "Soap hand me your gun"Price never took his eyes off of them. Ghost took out on of his pocket knives, he caressed it and looked at them. Gaz did too, man would he defend you.

But before soap handed his gun to his captain they had ran out.

Once inside, you sat there. Starring at them with those kind eyes of yours. They immediately went soft. "Got your favorite drink, kid?"

"yes, can I asked what happened out there?"

"nope...after this we can get some McDonalds, that's if you never ask about this again" man was he good at deals you thought.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(For this one I'll put you as a 23yr old, who specializes in hand to hand combat, and demolitions, as well as a training sniper, mainly bc i feel you need a little background.)

Price never understood how his colleagues could afford love for their kids. He didn't get how one little human would change their ways of being. That's until you arrived at base. Fresh off boot camp.

The day he met you, he understood why his friends back home retired after having kids. It went from him sparring with you, just to test your limits to making sure you were getting sleep, (this man for sure tucked you in)

"Sir, you're telling me that if I boil that liquid it will actually turn into a quality beverage?"

"How do I change my tire?"

"wait..how do I check for my oil?"

"price? are you sure I can go home? I don't want to be alone."

" can you please kill it? I'm scared man."

After teaching you from the most basic things in life a father should teach to what a military dad would teach, he grew fond of you.

Around December he found you roaming base, all alone. The rest of the team (except him ofc) was sent back home, to spend time with family and friends. Once you explain how you had no family to go back home to, he made you pack your bags and head to his. Funny enough, Ghost was already heading to his, it had become a thing between them.

He told you about his wife, how she wasn't able to conceive and how excited she was to met you. Later that week, she called you her child. You and Ghost had found a forever home with him. "These are my children." she proudly said to anyone who asked about the two socially awkward people standing next to her.

A week before Christmas, he took you and ghost hunting, that day he let you have a puff off of his cigar. "be careful now, don't inhale too much." he pointed at you, like he was talking to a child.

After the holiday, you were allowed to call him dad, pops when you were at his place.

Out at bars, he would keep you close. And when someone would clearly flirt with you, it was in him to remind you "no person will ever be good enough for you, understand kid?"

He even cracked dad jokes with Ghost and you. He made sure to update his family portrait from him and his wife to one of the four of you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tags: @thatonesimpyknow

a/n: I know It really long..but I hope you did enjoy it!

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

[corporatefrog]

╭₊˚ ๑︰Playing Mario Kart with Team Stan [headcannon + oneshot]

✧.* tags: college au

✧.* Characters: stan marsh, kenny mccormick, kyle broflovski, butters scotch

a/n: i love mario kart so much. I'm kind of awesome at it not to brag or anything (literally no lmaoo) I usually play luigi with the sports bike but I'd probably play dry bones if he was taken

masterlist

Kenny plays Dry Bones or Shy Guy

Kyle plays Toad or Luigi

Stan plays Yoshi or like the male villager 

Butters plays Rosalina (ofc. She’s the best one fr) or fucking baby peach

“Butters why the fuck are you playing as baby peach. No one is playing peach. You can be regular peach.”

“But she’s just a lil fella going through the world!” 

“SHE LEGALLY CANNOT DRIVE”

Yall make your own grand prix with electrodome, music park, maple treeway, and super bell subway (coconut mall if you’re playing the Wii version)

Loser of each grand prix switches out and you keep racking up points until the end of the night

LOTS of smack talk

Through the open window of the upstairs bedroom of the Marsh house on Tegridy Farms, a war brewed. The sounds flowing out the window stood in stark contrast to the peaceful night. A silent breeze rustled the budding cannabis plants, a soft movement that seemed to snap in the other direction as a wave of shouts pushed against the calm wind. 

“Good to know Stan’s still in last place where he belongs” 

“Well at least I’m not Kenny who needs an extra lightweight character to be farther than 6th”

Zooming into the room, a chaotic scene stood in stark contrast to the peaceful night. Various bags of chips scattered Cheeto and Dorito crumbs across the ground to be pulverized into the rug by sock covered feet. A hand pushed aside one of the bags, sending another wave of crumbs onto the ground as they reached for a can of soda. 

Kenny lifted the can to his lips. He drank with one hand angled to the side of his face to keep his eyes on the television screen. Finishing the drink with a loud sigh, he returned the drink to the ground to refocus his attention on the game. And on shit talking Stan. 

“Sorry I don’t listen to people who still drink Svedka.” He remarked, leaning his shoulder to the side as the cart with Dry Bones drifted around a corner. The trial of the cart sparked orange then purple as the speed boost charged. Dry Bones shot forward once the curve ended and pulled ahead of the NPC Bowser kart. 

“That’s rich coming from someone who chugged a week old borg with mountain dew and pinot.” Stan retorted. 

I gasped from my spot on the bed, attention breaking slightly to give Kenny a disgusted look, “Ew dude! Why the fuck did you do that?” I asked despite knowing the answer. There’s only one person who would make Kenny do something stupid like that. The one person who hasn’t been invited to the monthly Mario Kart tournaments in years because he’s a stupid idiot bozo.

“Cartman bet me $50 I couldn’t do it without puking-” Kenny’s response shifted tone as a red shell sent his cart flying off the end of the track “HEY WHAT THE FUCK KYLE! I WAS ALMOST WINNING!” He shouted as the perpetrator snickered on the floor. 

“Yeah, because 4th place is winning- god dammit!” Kyle cursed as his own cart slipped on a banana peel. My character threw a fist in the air to cheer the successful sabotage. 

“I really don’t know why you guys care so much about what place you get,” I mused as my kart pulled across the finish line, the large 1st Place symbol in the corner of my screen announcing the victory, “You’ll never be able to beat a god anyway.” A comical evil laugh boomed from my mouth, my arms raising to the sky as though calling upon the heavens to thank for my continuous win streak. 

Butters jumped up from the beanbag to add another 15 points to my total bringing it to a strong 45 after I’d won the two races prior. 

“I literally sent three blue shells at you. How the fuck did you still win?” Stan complained as he fell back against the bed, control dangling loosely from the wrist strap wrapped around his hand. 

Butters jumped in with a finger raised, “Oh well that’s because they look on the reddit forums during our philosophy class-” I leapt from my spot, rushing to reach Butters before he revealed my secret. My hand covered his mouth as I gave him a pointed ‘don’t you even think about it’ look. 

Turning back to the group with a shaky laugh, I waved off what Butters had almost said. “A Mario Kart god never reveals their secrets. Can’t have the mortals trying techniques they can’t master.” I gave Butters a pat on the shoulder, adding a warning squeeze before returning to my remote. Love the guy but he’s going to be the death of me one day, I swear. 

“Yeah, yeah” Kenny rolled his eyes, “I was just warming up anyway.” He stretched his arms above his head with an over exaggerated yawn. Grabbing his remote in one hand and a soda can in the other, he readied himself for the final race of the first round. 

“Okay? Then get better already? I’m hoping for a little bit of competition this time. Stan might even beat you if you keep racing like shit.” I snapped back at him with a wicked grin. A middle finger pointed my way came from Stan alongside some grumbled comebacks that weren’t loud enough to be heard. 

We all readed ourselves for the final tack, hearts racing in sync as the counter ticked down

3…

I hovered my finger over the accelerator. Not yet.

2…

Four fingers simultaneously pushed down on the controller as wheels spun in place on the screen.

1…

Butters gripped the whiteboard marker in his seat, falling victim to the infectious adrenaline of the room. 

GO!

And we were off.

[genopaint]

We're already on week 40!? It's time to start October!!

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #273 - Craggodon

Large dinosaur-like dragons that tend to live in large rocky areas without much plant life. They actually feed off minerals and geodes found inside rocks so you often see them eating boulders and cracking them into pieces for their young.

That's right! One more alt media dragon!! This time it's made of clay! Which is a HARD medium to work with. But it is fun for sure! This didn't come out at all how I wanted it but I think it's funny and cute enough to work lol

I've got maybe 5 more alt media dragons planned off the top of my head so we'll see whenever I get around to them. I love drawing but it can be draining to draw 200+ things the same way every day lol

Daily Dragon #274 - Ender Dragon

Did you know that despite having played the game for probably billions of hours and the fact that the final boss is a DRAGON I've actually still never beaten Minecraft? Feels crazy to think about. I should get on it one day.

Daily Dragon #275 - Dullahan Green

And of course, the first Dragon of Halloween season is this funny headless Dragon Girl :)

Daily Dragon #276 - The Dragon Knights

Of COURSE the winner for September was the dragon that was 4 characters in one... I mean- THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING!! Seriously I'm glad you all liked these 4 so much. Just 4 regular high schoolers, nothing to see here!

Here's the results:

Dragon Knights - 4 Votes Blaze Baphomet - 3 Votes Cumulusaur - 2 Votes ???BAHAMUT??? - 1 Vote Decibadon - 1 Vote Greendragon - 1 Vote Dragon Czar - 1 Vote Tarnivore - 1 Vote

September was a pretty strong showing for dragons I think. My favorites are probably between Caimaul, Cave Dino, and Dragon Czar! I loved doing ones in different mediums and I'm excited to try even more in the coming months! It's Halloween month now which means I'll have to do some seriously spooky dragons ASAP! Plus, get ready for day 300 which is fast approaching, I'll need all of your help to make the final community dragon come together, so get the ideas flowing!!

It's probably obvious but I'm coming out of my hiatus. I'll just complain a little bit but it was generally a total failure of a hiatus lmao. I won't go into details but I gotta get back to work ASAP! So expect my commissions to reopen soon enough I suppose!!

Daily Dragon #277 - Plantodon

I've been a little obsessed with Venus Fly Traps lately in case it wasn't obvious lol. These dragons are actually fully made of plants, so they're incredibly weak to fire!

Daily Dragon #278 - Bananusaur

Large dinosaur like dragons that hide in tropical locations, attempting to blend in with bananas that grow in the area. While they can't get far, they can flap the back 2 peel-like appendages to fly short distances

Daily Dragon #279 - Raohgon

Large menacing dragons that typically live in grasslands and fields. They can use their wings to lift them off the ground and carry them through large fields quickly. The energy blast they fire from their powerful jaws is incredibly destructive!

[enam3l]

love, lola / chapter seven / banana and the band (5.6k)

Summer is in full swing. As pregnancy occupies your time, Eddie finds his own groove. But will it lead him to a future without you?

a/n: happy ending eventually, slow burn, will they won't they, a lil angsty but never mean eddie! tw: if pregnancy details and adoption

ok guys if you hadn't been wondering where this story was going, i think this chapter might give you a clue! we are really getting going now.

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

The summer of '86 was so far, looking pretty sweet for Eddie Munson; a striking contrast to the events of the spring. On top of being a high school graduate, Eddie was now gainfully employed at The Hideout. Once graduating, for the first time in his life, he'd found himself swimming in free time. No school to waste his time, his drug dealing hat hung up and unfortunately, Corroded Coffin disbanded. The other guys occupied with summer jobs or preparations for leaving Hawkins behind for college. Adventures which were not on the horizon for the likes of himself.

Then, there were only so many times he could interrupt Steve and Robin at Family Video. Eddie had already been scolded for messing with Steve's precious returns piles and Keith was threatening a Munson-ban. As for the kids, they already had so much of their childhood stolen, Eddie wanted them to have the summer to reclaim some. The lanky presence of a twenty year old former drug dealer didn't aid that - which had became painfully obvious when he'd been mistaken for Dustin's dad by the shop assistant at 7/11. And of course there was you. 

Now, you did have the same endless free time as Eddie, yet he was terrified of imposing. Whereas previously, spending countless hours together wasting away the summer months had been second nature, it was no longer. The feelings Eddie first noticed when he was fourteen were bubbling back up to the surface with vengeance. During adolescence it had been easy to coexist with the love he held because being in your warm presence was all he'd known. The blissful ignorance of youth meant he hadn't quite grappled with the overwhelming nature of love. Then during those peak years of realisation from eighteen onwards, you hadn't been there.

The distance college provided was Eddie's saving grace. Allowing him to compartmentalise his feelings towards you and store them in a locked box in the attic of his mind. Two years later, you've now returned. Bursting through the attic hatch, wielding bolt cutters to break open the industrial chains he'd put on that dusty box to keep it sealed. Unwittingly you've now unleashed a lifetime of all consuming love. The kind that has Eddie no longer knowing how to be normal around you. Bubbles fizz in his stomach in your presence, pressure rising to the point he fears the cork will pop and every soppy thought will flow from his mouth. Like a lovesick teenager he feels his palms sweat as his uncontrollable hand itches to take yours. So if anything, Eddie needs something to occupy not only his time but his mind. Something to prevent the impulses that zap through him. 

So that's where Eddie found that for once, the universe offered him a sprinkle of luck. On a summer evening as he nursed a beer, longingly watching you twirl around with Robin, he was propositioned. From behind the bar, Carl, the owner of The Hideout croaked. 

'So, Munson, now you're a free man, take it you been finding yourself with a lotta time on ya hands?'

Eddie scoffs and nods, he doesn't know the half hour of it. Yesterday he took apart and reassembled Wayne's radio just for something to do - it now only plays stations in what they think is Portuguese. 

'Well, can always do with extra hands round here, man...' Carl shrugs. 

Eddie whips his head round, raising an eyebrow. 

'Carl, let's be serious, we both know I am not twenty one, right?' 

Carl cracks up. 

'No shit, kid. You don't think I can tell a Sharpie job on an ID?'

They both laugh, he'd lost the flawless looking fake ID you'd made for him whilst you'd been away. Resulting in him feebly attempting forgery. He quickly realised that fake IDs and forgery were not something he could add to his portfolio of criminal services a long with dealing. 

'Not gonna get your ass shut down for having someone underage kid working?' Eddie asks. Carl shakes his head. 

'Hell no, you think they send agents to check in at this shit hole? Pretty sure we're on file as going out of business a decade ago. Nah, man, your only problem would be Chief Hopper and he'd let it slide for you, right?'

Eddie mulls it over. It's the best offer he's been given... the only offer he's been given. He could get a few drinks for free, maybe use the stage and equipment to practice, see a few gigs. Do anything other than obsess over you. 

'Yeah, yeah, Hopper would be cool. What would you have me doing? Need some muscle on the door,' Eddie smirks, flexing his lean arms like Popeye. 

'Sure, I'll call you if the stray cats outside get rowdy... I was thinking more like the bar. Means I can stay in the office, means the girls we already got on the bar have someone to look out for em, plus you know all the wiring and shit better than me. Can sort all that out for the bands?'

Carl sees the smile spread across Eddie's face and offers out a hand. 

'We got a deal, Munson?'

Eddie's ringed hand grips Carl's aged tattooed one. 

'Fuck yeah.'  

By August you're four months pregnant and every morning is a nauseating guessing game even without the morning sickness. 

Once the creeping morning light wakes you, a ritual that started at the beginning of summer, starts. Five deep breaths, eyes squeeze shut, then you raise your duvet, open your eyes and see if over night your stomach has miraculously blown up like a balloon. Then you convince yourself that sight deceives you and obsessively probe your stomach to see if it feels rounder than last night. All this plotting and secrecy was pointless if your body betrayed you, the bump appearing and giving it away like a pointing neon sign. But thankfully, the universe had granted you a sliver of luck and the bump was barely bigger than the aftermath of a large dinner. Nothing anyone would notice. Nothing Eddie would notice. 

Still, there were other factors you constantly feared would give up the game. You wondered if anyone noticed your reluctance to enter the pool all summer. Both Gran's and Steve's remained untouched by yourself despite numerous days spent lounging around it with your friends. 

'The baby can't drown when it's inside you,' Steve had snorted. 

You knew that, having approached pregnancy as you would a school test. Meticulously revising in attempt to make pregnancy appear as something to learn about and not something happening to you. Swimming was listed as a pregnancy safe exercise. But you're sure the subjects tested weren't in a pool with a gaggle of sun drunk teenage boys and a lanky best friend who insisted on hurling you around. You don't believe it would be best pleased to find itself wobbling around on Eddie's shoulders as you wrestled Robin on top of Steve. Plus, wearing a swim suit that exposed your stomach, highlighting it to the world, felt like tempting fate. And a shallow lovesick part of you didn't want Eddie to see you in a bikini, skin exposed, unless you looked perfect. 

The other glaring giveaway was you weren't drinking and what was summer without boozy evenings with friends? This all became even trickier now Eddie was behind the bar at The Hideout. No longer could you pretend there was rum hiding in your coke when you were ordering from him. Luckily, Steve was a true friend and stepped up. A true friend who had never drank so much in his life. Making sure to always drink your decoy or order on your behalf. You were glad Eddie had got the job, had something to motivate him and get up for. The downside was now he was the Hideout's resident eye candy. Every night out you were forced to witnessed the girls flocking to the bar and pawing at him. Big lashes batting at him, asking for their fourth drink in the last hour; pouting that they'd spilt their previous glass. Infuriatingly, despite being a goof, Eddie was painstakingly charming; something he failed to realise. His natural charisma oozing as he smirked at the girls needing a replacement, 

'Oh it just fell out of your hand? Well we can't be having that, doll. 'Pose you want the same again?'

You watched the girls fluster, knees buckling and not just from the booze and heels, a reaction you'd had a plenty. It only grew worse once they found out he was talented eye-candy as they caught him on stage doing sound checks or providing back up when a band's guitarist had one too many.  The kicker was the female clientele of the Hideout were exactly what you'd imagined his type to be. Buxom heavy metal cover girls with smouldering eyes and a music taste much more in tune with his. A lethal combination of heartbreak, jealousy and fury bubbled inside, only aided by raging pregnancy hormones and again without alcohol to numb the pain. Your only comfort was Steve's protective reaction where he would slide you a warm hand to squeeze. 

That warm hand was there again when you finally caved and went to get your first scan.  Admittedly, you should've already had one but you had buried yourself in denial. Not wanting to hear that tiny pulsing which would cause you to crash land into reality. But at twenty weeks, you knew you had to, it would be irresponsible not to. The adoption agency you had been in contact with needed to know a due date and ideally a scan for prospective parents. It made you feel a little queasy, the thought of the now banana sized being inside you getting advertised. A little grainy picture used to grab the attention of the highest bidder, like a used goods flier pinned to a bulletin board at the grocery store. What could you do though? That was the process, this is what you had to do.

The appointment came round on the 22nd August, a Friday which was far too sunny when you felt so blue. Not even the air conditioning of Steve's BMW could prevent the sweat that beaded on your forehead; a mixture of anxiety and the abnormally warm summer. The car was silent in anticipation, thick with the looming sense of how real the situation you'd gotten yourself in was about to become. You stare at the backs of your moral supporters' heads. Gran staring wistfully at the blur of orange, blue and green outside. Steve's gaze fixated on the road as his knuckles whitened with his grip on the wheel. The blaring WHAM! tape a stark contrast to the somber mood. 

Steve's hand gripped yours in support as you reclined on the bed in anticipation for the nurse. Gran's firm on your shoulder. The two people who you knew were going to keep you grounded until this blip in your life was over. The nervous energy was interrupted by the chirping of the nurse. 

'Hi, Miss Y/L/N?' you nod, 'good morning! How we feeling today? Excited? Nervous?' 

You could tell she was good at her job, had mastered the art of talking to ease people. 

'How about you, Mom or I guess Grandma now? And Dad to be?' 

Gran winces. Steve's breath hitches. Oh crap, you think, I'm about to foil up this poor woman's routine. One top of that, the message that no one was going to become anything other than what they already were, clearly hadn't been passed on. The three of you look between each other grimacing. Your voice croaks nervously. 

'Oh urm, this is actually my Gran... and he's not the father...'

Steve gives an awkwardly cheerful salute 'Just a good friend.'

The nurse clearly looks as if she's about to say something nice but you have one final blow. 

'And, urm...' you squirm on the squeaking bed, 'I'm not keeping it. The baby - sorry. They're getting adopted.' 

For the first time, her kind smile falters as she flusters on her word. 

'Oh - oh god. I'm so sorry! There's usually a note and - oh, my apologies... well... shall we make sure they're all okay in there?'

You nod, making sure to put on a big smile to ease the nurse so she can get back into her rhythm. Carefully you roll your top up to reveal your belly... or lack there of. 

'I... don't really have a bump? Is that normal? Are they okay?' 

The nurse is quick to reassure, 'Don't worry! Bump size is different for everyone. Nothing to worry about but we'll double check, alright?'

Both Gran and Steve offer another soothing squeeze. Brandishing the gel, you’re given a warning.

‘Okay, hon, now this will be cold. You ready?’

You nod but the response is quickly cut off as the thick gel hits your stomach like ice sludge. An involuntary squeal escapes. Steve let’s out a snigger at your response and is met by glares from every woman in the room.

‘It’s not that bad, surely?’ He attempts to crack. 

The unamused look on your face should’ve warned him not to push it. Quickly, your free hand swipes up a glob of the gel and slathers it on Steve’s exposed forearm. The squeak that escapes him is far more girlish than you ever could’ve produced. You smirk at his frown. How was this the response from a man who has been mauled by inter-dimensional creatures? Gran and the nurse cackle as he untwines his fingers from yours to rub at the frozen patch of skin.

‘Ok… point proven,’ he sulks. 

After reapplying the gel, you all watch with bated breath as the scanner makes contact with your stomach. The smooth surface glides over the skin, searching. No one in the room dares to exhale. Now, your mind races with potential problems. You feel foolish for not being more concerned about the lack of bump. Despite everything, despite the colossal detour this baby has taken your life on, you want it to be there. You want it to be okay. 

The sonogram screen looks nothing but like static to you. Jarring flickers of black and white. Nothing your eyes can recognise as a life form. It's all silent. 

Then finally, a soft pulsing begins to echo out of the tinny speakers. The two hands digging into your skin finally relax a little. 

'There we go,' the nurse beams, 'looks like we have a little burrower on our hands.' 

The image stills and she pauses over the right spot. It's not exactly a breathtaking picture of what grows inside you. The edges are fuzzy, it's abstract. Like an impressionist painting of life. 

'C-could you point it out... I'm not sure where they are on screen,' your voice is laced with embarrassment. As if not being able to instantly recognise the baby made you a bad mother. But I'm not a mother, I'm not going to be you have to remind yourself. 

A blue gloved finger outlines a section on screen. 

'Oh,' you gasp. It's so obvious now she shows you. 'A little banana.' The internal musing manages to pass your lips and three sets of eyes look at you confused. 

'That's what the book said,' you stutter, 'by twenty weeks they'd be the size of a banana...' 

The nurse chuckles along with Gran as Steve remains fascinated by the little wiggling form on screen. 

'Yeah, that's about right,' the nurse adds, 'although I would say this is quite a little banana, but...'

She scans back over again to be sure, 'a very healthy little one!'

Gran leans presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

'I knew it, it's all okay in there. You've done good,' as it did when you were small, her voice still soothes you like nothing else. 

The question you've been dreading finally comes. 

'So, Y/N, would you like to know the baby's gender?' The nurse smiles. Before you can stop yourself and compose a more succinct answer you blurt out,

'No!' 

You're met back with surprised and alarmed blinking eyes. The nurse, Steve and Gran looking between each other to work out what just happened. 

'The adoption agency don't require it. Just as long as they're healthy. That's all, that's fine,' you attempt to reason. Gran tucks a finger under your chin, her sharp eyes analysing your own. 

'Are you sure you don't want to know darling?' She drawls out the 'sure' for emphasis. 

'I'm sure. We're done.' 

In the car home you feel embarrassed by your sharpness over the gender. Again you travel in awkward silence. One of the more exciting parts of pregnancy for most, just an uncomfortable experience for you. The open window causes the printed sonogram picture to flutter between your fingers. The motion causing the black and white haze to dance around like it had on screen. As if your banana size baby was hopping around. You wonder if they will start to bop around inside you, the nurse said they should start to move anytime now. Will they stay a little burrower or would they become a relentless little wriggler? Eddie's baby would definitely be a wriggler. You pinch your thigh for that thought. Thoughts like that now intrude daily, as if your own mind is trying to torture you. It's why you didn't want to know the gender.

The last thing you needed was another sliver of information that could paint a fantasy for you. Your imagination would only take the gender and run with it. It would allow you to truly picture the baby. What they'd look like, who they'd be or all the things they could've been had they been Eddie's. It feels cruel to say and it's why you didn't explain in the hospital room, but you don't want to humanise the baby. The more you pretend this is nothing more than a project or a transaction, the easier this will be. Already your heart hurts too much. 

Over at The Hideout, Eddie squints in concentration, pushing escaping strands of hair out of his face. Sweat drips down his neck, skin exposed due to the ponytail. The stage lights are hot on him as he toys with the wiring for the amps and speaker system.  All day he's spent setting the place up for a big gig. A few repeat guests supporting a once regular band that had gathered a lot of heat. Setting this night up made Eddie, for the first time, feel important and valued. A sensation that sent electric bolts through his body and not in the same way as earlier when an old wire sparked.

For a rundown bar in a dead end town, The Hideout had garnered a cult venue status for metal and rock bands dotted between Hawkins and Indianapolis. The headliners Kraven were familiar to Eddie, having played a few of the same shows as Corroded Coffin. More rock than metal but still good, very good. They had garnered a big hype, getting shows at real venues in the city and those getting rave reviews in magazines and the paper. Eddie had been pretty surprised they'd been down to come back to The Hideout for the end of summer event he'd organised. Carl had been impressed with his ability with the bar, quick to let Eddie become his right hand man. The ultimate approval was now getting granted permission to throw his very own event. 

'Shit, bro. You fuckin set all this shit up already?' Taylor, the lead of Kraven appeared beside Eddie. Tanned skin littered with tattoos and messy waved bleach white hair; the perfect image of a rockstar. 

'Um yeah, pretty much. It was no problem...' Eddie shrugs. 

'Wicked, thanks dude. So, you still playin yourself?' Taylor asks casually as he strolls over to his guitar. Fingers artfully tuning it. 

'No, not really. Band kinda broke up. They're all off to college and shit.' 

Eddie feels a little embarrassed under Taylor's confident gaze. Embarrassed to admit his band had fallen apart to someone whose was thriving. 

'Damn fuckin shame!' Taylor bellows into the microphone. His impressive voice echoing through the empty venue. 'You guys were pretty sick, y'know? Especially you bro. Fucking shredder!'

For a different reason now, Eddie blushes with embarrassment. But this time because someone like Taylor thinks he's talented. Thinks he hadn't just wasted his time with music. 

'Oh, shit, well... thanks! Means a lo-'

'Wanna play with us tonight?' Taylor casually asks like it's nothing. He must notice the bafflement in Eddie's face so he continues. 

'We're a man down. Lead guitarist ain't here. Was gonna just cover myself but... dunno, think it would pretty hardcore if you filled in?' 

Eddie feels his jaw drop; now he's really flattered. The thought is nerve wracking but god, did he miss performing. 

'Fuck... are you sure? I mean I don't even know your stuff?'

Taylor scoffs, 'Fuck yeah. Look you'd be doing us a favour and you're good, you'll pick it up easy over practice.'

The electricity running through Eddie increases tenfold. Who is he to refuse a guy as cool as Taylor? Plus, a desperate part in the back of his mind whispers a fantasy of you swooning seeing him on stage again for the first time in years. 

As the stage lights came on, Eddie desperately resisted the temptation to rub his eyes; now lined in perfectly smudged black kohl. The Kraven look was a little different to Corroded Coffin's, more Studio 54 than biker bar. The rest of the band all exposed glittering skin, tight leather and mesh. After rehearsals, Eddie had gone back to the house to rummage for anything that fit the brief. His chosen look of skin tight shredded black jeans, home cut vest and leather jacket was met with approval. 

'Let me just add the finishing touches,' the drummer's girlfriend had said. 

She sat Eddie down, hovering over his lap as she artfully smudged the liner. Her eyes fixated on his own whilst smearing a layer of glitter over it. The intimacy of his pre-show rehearsal caused his imagination to picture you instead. When he closed his eyes it was you straddling his lap, soft fingertips sweeping on his eyelids and wishing him words of encouragement. Just as he had in the dressing room, Eddie stood on stage wondering what you'd think. Would you like this new look? Would you find it hot? He knows you like Bowie. Then there were other concerns, you hadn't seen him play since you'd left for New York. He's pretty sure he became a much better musician since then. Losing himself in Corroded Coffin in a desperate attempt to fill the void you left. Eddie prays you like this. Prays you enjoy watching him perform. 

The spiralling thoughts are knocked out of Eddie as Taylor strums the first note on his guitar and the performance begins. 

When the stage lights illuminate the figures on stage, you cough up your swig of cranberry juice. There is one guitarist up there who you definitely recognise. You'd arrived with the gang earlier, excited for the evening Eddie had worked hard organising. He'd miraculously left out the part where he would be performing himself. Steve pats your back from your choking whilst the rest of the group gawp. 

'What the fuck?!' Robin shouts, 'is that Eddie?'

You nod feebly, still speechless. This band looked like a real band, Eddie looked like a star. Even from where you all huddled in your usual booth you could see him oozing effortless swagger. 

'Did you know he was playing tonight?' Nancy asks in bafflement. 

'No,' you reply meekly, 'not a clue...'

You hadn't seen Eddie play since you left for college. It appeared in the meantime he'd gotten even better. Argyle was up and rallying you all. 

'Dudes, this is fuckin sweet! Come on we gotta go up there!' 

Everyone was quick to file out the booth, weaving into the crowd to get closer to the stage. As if Eddie's guitar was a siren's call, you found yourself following them until a tug at your sleeve pulls you back. 

Steve frowns, 'what are you doing? Are you sure that's safe?'

'I don't want to miss it! It'll look weird if I'm not there as well,' you're sure your voice whines like a teenager. 

'Yeah but...' Steve's eyes full of worry flicker down to your stomach. 

'It'll be okay, you'll stay with me right?' A dramatic sigh signals you've won the argument. 

'Yes, fine, of course I will.'

Steve firmly grips your hand, shielding you as he pushes through the crowd until he finds the others. 

Only a few rows back from the stage, you now see Eddie fully. 

Framing his dark chocolate eyes are smudges of eyeliner and glitter that reflects the colourful lights. The make up makes his eyes even more intense. The two orbs seem to find you in the crowd and light up. Their magnetism making you feel like you're the only one in the room. His ringed fingers move faster and in more intricate ways than you've ever seen him do before. Fuck, Eddie was always a talented musician but he'd improved tenfold in the last two years. Not just him, however, the whole band look professional. All the members in perfect harmony. The songs not just covers or tunes thrown together in a garage, they're hits. You have no idea how Eddie has ended up a part of them, whoever they are but they're electrifying.  

It's not just you who thinks so. The whole crowd moves like a wave, losing themselves in the music. In the corner of your eye you see Robin, Jonathan and Argyle's hair whipping round wildly. The sheer energy in the room makes the air thick and sticky. You can't help the way your eyes fixate on the beads of sweat trickling down Eddie's thick neck, over his collar bone, past his pecks and disappearing under his vest. This was torturous. As the band stop whilst the lead singer talks, you watch as Eddie removes his leather jacket. Strong but lean arms revealed. 

When the band start back up a gasp sticks in your throat as he begins a solo. Damp curls falling as he concentrates on the notes he plays. Veins flexing under the taught porcelain skin of his arms. Like the rest of the crowd you scream. A family of bats dancing. You're unable to ignore the volume of female voices joining in on the cheering. Your blood boils with envy that others should be looking at your Eddie and thinking thoughts that slip out when you're alone in bed. You can't believe he's real. Yet, he is and painfully, he isn't yours. There's a room full of women here who he could go home with. Who aren't his best friend. Who aren't pregnant. 

When they finally finish and file off the stage, Eddie's heart is still going like a jackhammer. Adrenaline from performing still coursing through his veins. Holy fuck he'd missed this. The other factor causing his pulse to race is raw jealousy. The entire show his eyes burnt at the spot where Steve's arm was wrapped tight around you. Large hand possessively gripping your shoulder, tucking you in beside him. That is not right, Eddie fumes, Steve isn't your protector or comfort, that's his role. 

Congratulatory claps on his back shake Eddie out of his sulk. The guys from Kraven flocking round him. 

'Eddie, bro that was fucking hardcore!'

'You're a lifesaver, dude, honestly!'

'You were on fire out there, my man!'

Eddie's cheeks flush with the praise from people he can't believe like him - think that he is talented. 

'Oh, urm, thank you!' He stutters, 'thanks for letting me play! Look, I'm just gonna to see my friends, caught them in the crowd. I'll see you in a minute?' 

The guys nod. 

'No worries, bro. Just come back to the dressing room when you're done!' Taylor shouts after him as Eddie throws a thumbs up. Quick to run back into the bar and find you. 

It takes Eddie a matter of seconds to spot you in the crowd. He's certain even if this were Madison Square Garden and he was blindfolded, he'd find you. 

'Sweetheart!' He bellows over the chattering crowds and pulsing speakers. 

Instantly your head whips round to see him, stood there in all his sweat covered glory. You're quick to slip out of Steve's arms and run into Eddie's. 

'Ah I'm sweaty I don't wanna get you-' his protests are cut off as you slam into him. Oblivious and uncaring of his damp skin, you wrap your arms around his neck. Instinctively your fingers finding the damp curls at the back of his neck. He indulges and wraps his own tightly round your waist. 

'Teddy, you were so fucking amazing,' you pull back so you can swat at his exposed chest from the sagging vest. 'Why didn't you tell me you were playing!'

Eddie chuckles at your childish frown and pout. His now calloused finger reaches to smooth down the line in your furrowed brow. 

'Wasn't planned, sweets. They were a man down so I guess surprise...'

You let your fingers linger on his chest. Running your tips round over the hot smooth skin, a move that feels too intimate but you can't resist. It takes all of Eddie's strength not to groan at the feeling. He wonders if you feel how hard his heart beats under your touch. Wonders if you realise you're the cause. 

'You were amazing. I mean, you always were but... now. That was something else! How could you keep that from me!'

His cheeks flush at your compliments. They feel so much more meaningful leaving your lips. 

'You really think so?' He mumbles, 'guess I had a lot of time on my hands without you...'

The words pierce your heart. You knew the feeling, days became endless without Eddie. You didn't realise he'd felt the same through those two years. Pulling him back into a hug, you bury your face into the crook of his neck. It smells like sweat, smoke and his aftershave but it's all Eddie. It's home. 

'I'm sorry,' you whisper. Your lips move against his skin and he lets himself pretend it's almost a kiss. He closes his eyes in bliss having you close like this. One arm pulling you tight against him, fingers trailing up your spine. The other wrapped round your shoulder, his tired hands running through your soft locks. Eddie sees how far he can push his luck as he presses his lips and nose to the crown of your head. Inhaling your smell whilst lightly pressing a kiss. 

Back in the dressing room, Eddie is surprised to find the band gathered as if they're holding a meeting. A bizarre contrast to see such animated people wear such serious expressions. 

'Eddie, hey! Come sit,' Taylor waves him over, pointing to a chair.  

He sits down and looks around at the other guys awkwardly. All their eyes on him. It feels like a very strange AA meeting. 

'So... you guys good? Happy with the show?' He asks to try and break the tension. 

Keith the drummer chirps up. 

'Yeah bro, we're good, real good. The show was sick. That's what we wanted to talk about actually...'

Keith nods to Taylor as if to signal for him to go on. 

'Look, Eddie, I'll be real with you. Kraven, we're doing well. It's not been announced yet but... we're signed. We've been working on a debut album for a few months...'

Eddie's eyes widen. It does make sense, he wonders why they hadn't said though. 

'Shit, guys, that's awesome. Well done-'

Taylor cuts Eddie off. 

'That's not all... we may have come with ulterior motives. Our lead guitarist, tonight wasn't just a one off. He quit...'

Eddie's mouth forms a little 'O'. 

'He decided going pro, it wasn't for him. It's cool. So we've been looking for a new lead. Then you called offering the gig and it was like, fuckin' serendipity. We all remembered how hardcore you were with your band.'

The rest of the band nod whilst Eddie's brain feels like it's about to malfunction. 

'W-what are you guys saying?' He stumbles out. 

'Well... we knew you were talented. Then tonight just proved our theory correct. Eddie, bro... we want you to join the band.'

For the first time in his life, Eddie Munson might be speechless. The silence is filled then by Spike their bass player. 

'I know this sounds fuckin batshit brother but we were so good out there, together. You're better than this place, too talented to just be managing a bar in a random ass town. You could be doing the real thing with us, man. We've been out in Cali recording...'

Eddie scans the room, at the pleading faces before him. This feels like a dream. This can't be happening, shit like this is from movies, they don't happen to Eddie the freak Munson. And California? That's like a million miles away. He's barely left the state. It's a million miles away from you. From that New York plan he'd wishfully proposed. But then, what else does he really have? He can't just tag along on your life forever. Taylor coughs, interrupting his freak out. 

'So, what do you say, dude... wanna be Kraven's lead guitar?'

tag list: @tlclick73 @probablyin-bed @fangirling-4-ever @booksarekindaneat @azydrateanatomy @sadbitchfangirl @fluffybunnyu @big-ope-vibes @beam86 @midnightsgetawaycar @stevieharringtonswife

[shadowqueenjude]

Lucien finally loses his shit part 7

Lucien finds himself in a duel to the death with the male who dared to hurt his mate! Lucien knew it was only a matter of time before Azriel had him in a vulnerable position again. Still, he fought, tooth and nail, deciding if he was going to die, he was going to flip death off all the way to the end.

All of a sudden, the shadowsinger disappeared. Lucien whipped his head around, searching for him when all of a sudden, he appeared behind him. Lucien stumbled back, raising his sword to try to deflect the blow as Azriel’s knife arced towards his heart. Lucien tensed up, expecting a blow which never came.

As Azriel fell face first to the ground, Lucien stared at the arrow protruding from the center of his back.

He looked up, following the trajectory of the arrow to find Elain standing several paces away, bow in hand, looking every bit like a mighty immortal huntress. Her eyes were as fierce as Lucien had ever seen them. By the Cauldron, she was beautiful. His mate.

Lucien stared down at Azriel. He should end it. Slit his throat. But he hesitated.

His mate cared for him. Besides, he was a downed male. Smart as it would be to eliminate him, Lucien couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“The next time you come after me, I’ll kill you,” Lucien hissed. He stalked over to Elain, who handed him a bottle of some sparkly purple liquid. Lucien narrowed his eyes.

“It’s not poison,” Elain quipped, and Lucien smiled slightly. “Looks like it. What the hell is this?”

Elain only stared at him with clear, piercing eyes. “Do you trust me?”

I barely know you, he wanted to cry out. But he found himself saying, “Yes. Yes, I trust you.”

“Then drink,” she said, and tipped the glass into his mouth. He obeyed, swallowing large gulps at a time. It tasted like cinnamon and vanilla and banana and something else he couldn’t quite place. “It should help you restore your magic faster?”

“And how exactly,” Lucien said between swallows, “do you know that?”

Elain smiled slightly. “Cooking is an art. You’d be surprised how many magical recipes there are in those cookbooks.”

Lucien grinned. “Smart girl.”

Elain’s smile went a little wider at that. Lucien soon found she was right. Within a few minutes, he found much of his strength returning. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Elain’s smile faded. “Why should I go with you?”

“Please,” Lucien begged. He’d get on his knees if he had to. “I’m not asking you to be with me. I just need to get you out of here. Someplace safe. Your sisters will be there too. Don’t you trust me?” he said softly. Tentatively.

He waited for the no that was surely coming, but she merely said, “Yes. Yes, I do.” Relief flooded through him at her words. “Then come with me.” He offered a hand. Elain took it with little hesitation. Her hand was so small in his. And so soft. Like a dove’s. He tried to ignore how perfectly their hands fit together, how beautiful her hair was flowing in the wind, her bright eyes as brown as a faun’s coat. He closed his eyes and winnowed.

When he opened his eyes, Graysen’s mansion was before them. There was no sign of the man, however, much to Lucien’s relief. He did not want Elain running into her foul former fiancé.

When Lucien arrived with Elain in tow, Feyre and Nesta instantly came running. Elain didn’t let go of Lucien’s hand until Feyre grabbed her in a bone-crushing hug. Nesta hugged her equally fiercely. Then all three sisters gave him a big hug which left him blushing and a little bit tongue-tied.

All three sisters continued to fuss over him as they walked inside Graysen’s mansion, but all thoughts emptied out of Lucien’s head at the look on Jurian’s face.

“What is it?” Lucien demanded. Jurian was pale and sweaty, his anxiety most unlike him. He turned to Lucien at his words. His mouth was drawn in a thin line. “It’s Vassa. She’s gone.”

No. “What do you mean, gone?”

“She was taken back. By Koschei. I don’t know what happened to the deal their father struck, but he took her back.” Jurian’s voice was filled with pain for his best friend and lover.

No. “When did this happen?”

“Last night,” Jurian choked. He wiped his face, trying to hide his tears. “She left a note.” He tossed it to Lucien.

No no no no.

Shit.

He could’ve sworn he heard the Mother speak in his mind once more. Your woes are just beginning, son of Helion.

[jodiellie]

Day 4: Born Day (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ (16/05/2024)

Health

Water intake: 340mL (I totally forgot to monitor myself today because I kept trying to have fun on my birthday AAAAAAA)

Sleep: 3:00am - 11:30am (we slightly better 👀)

Daily vitamin C intake ❌

Allergy meds ❌

At least I did some stretches before I went to bed LORD

As usual, link will be linked below :> my hips and lower back were in a lot of pain so this rly helped! It's also a nice way to go to bed by relaxing your muscles first~

10-Min Bedtime Stretching Exercises — Pre-sleep Flow (beginners)

Mind

S3EP5 of Supernatural

Played Sky: Children of the Light the first time with my friend :3

My dad bought me The Tenants game for my birthday uwu so I played it asdjnsfnddf it's rly fun! Recommend it for people who enjoys tycoon, relaxing, and/or organizational games!

Food

Lunch: Donut sandwich and three layered milk tea ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Dinner: Shakshuka, honey & banana porridge, pumpkin pasta, soju cake, ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ and chocolate (all of the food are shared with my family btw, I'm not inhaling full plates of it ASDJNSDNF)

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Notes

Crying because today is supposed to be my birthday and I spent a lot of time with my family and friends celebrating it to the point I ended up almost forgetting to take care of my needs? ASNNSDDNF I think it's mainly because I haven't make it a habit yet, after all it takes at least a month to make something a habit. Hopefully by the end of 30 days, I'll be able to make some of these stuff, like water intake and sleep, into a more habitual routine ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

***Emotional rant about birthday below (to log in my negative feelings about today but pls skip it if you're not comfortable)***

Other than that, emotionally I started feeling a little sad? I think it's because I wasn't celebrating my birthday with as much loved ones as I was last year. Mostly because of things that happened along the year that made me and my friends drifted apart. Idk, I think part of me is also saddened by a friend of mine that didn't give me a gift for my birthday? It's not really about the gift really because they did ask me what do I want and I said "i don't really know." I was more saddened at how they didn't seem to put in much effort into trying to celebrate my birthday? I've always gifted them things they like on theirs and try my best to spend a lot of time with them. But for me, it just feels like any other day and they dropped the question without giving me anything after I said idk what I want. Idk, maybe I'm just not seeing things in their pov and they're just a clueless dummy. They did tell me before how they've never rly gifted gifts to their loved ones other than me. And they've always just gift gifts randomly rather than on a special day. So idk, maybe I'm just not feeling well emotionally and this just clouded my judgement of them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But looking at the more positive side, I have my family who's always there. No matter how much I might have disappointed them, they're still here for me. So honestly, that's good enough for me, even if it feels bittersweet.

[spockandawe]

hello! i came across your wips button and i wonder if youll ever go do them? the transformers ones sound super good!!

That.... is an excellent question and one I'm not super equipped to answer! The boring downer angle is that I've been horribly, immovably blocked on art and writing for a long while now, and it drives me nuts trying to shake that AND i rarely have any luck. I know i can write pretty darn well, and I can do it FAST, there was a hot minute where i successfully held myself to uploading at least one piece of art or writing per day. That pace was never going to last, my art got better and my fics got longer, plus i went from languishing in the falling action of grad school to having an actual job, which was both a less flexible schedule and also more money to explore other hobbies. But that period of my life really drove home how important that rhythm and periodicity is to me, and i haven't been able to recapture that in years.

As it is right now, if i manage to finish anything, it's only going to happen with either a fandom at the VERY very forefront of my mind (svsss or the raksura core au right now), or with an idea too fresh and good and crunchy to resist, independent of fandom (there's a dungeon meshi idea lightly haunting me). Transformers is a remarkably good playground, I love it SO much, but it's been years since I reread any significant part of it, so the ideas aren't flowing. I trust my old ideas, but if the canon isn't fresh, or I'm not actively talking about it, the spark is unlikely to catch. There's an off-chance of me reacting to an idea in some other fic via a medium of transformers smut, but I'm also struggling to read right now too 🥲

But! But!!!! A thing ive noticed and that drives me bananas is that when i move, the shape of my hobbies changes. I vibed really well with writing in NJ and MA, and COMPLETELY lost the ball when i relocated to VA. I cross-stitched in NJ, faded in MA, and lost it in VA. I bookbound like nuts in VA, but i just did a local move, and I'm no longer getting the reaction of 'I'm idle, I should make a book.' I don't know where things will go, first was a rush to unpack my boxes, then was a rush to learn to paint a room, and now my home is full of jumbled furniture and objects and I'm so overwhelmed that all I want to do is lie in bed and level grind in video james.

Teal deer, i can't tell what hobby is going to take center stage now, and it's driving me nuts. But it could be writing! I'm much more confident about my writing than lots of other creative endeavors. I also want to revisit canon for a lot of old fandoms. I think the wip list predates my cnovel phase, but i have two beefy svsss wips, and at least two short ones, and two aus I'd love to flesh out. I have raksura core writing. I have a tf bookbinding project that's been languishing for. 1.5 years. But if i can find my momentum, I'll be diving back into canon. And i really think 5-10k of hard weird emotional smut really is my wheelhouse. I wish so hard i could recapture that energy! This is a response much longer than it needed to be, but just imagine me as the WHY ARE YOU CLOSED meme at my own brain, and much more confused and frustrated than anyone else that I don't write anymore 🤣