#don’t tempt me cuz I got another week of break

[that-sarcastic-writer]

I’m so fucking mad about the utter mind fucking lack of Dexter fics in this place. no way this man was the original sexy crash out sociopath sk and none of yall have written a single thing about him. I can’t do it all myself pLEASE.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢

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𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍: ANON Hey you ❤️ Could I request an imagine with Bucky where you are his non-avenger girlfriend but you got really distant towards him lately as you found out you're pregnant and you're scared of his reaction? But then he finds out and is all happy and all other avengers are happy for you and insist on taking care of you and it's just all fluffy ? Thank you a lot ❤️

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: really fluff smut 18+ (praise, daddy kink, slight mommy kink?, breeding kink, oral fem!rec, age gap, etc), slight angst, cw: mentions of eating disorders (no one has one but bucky thinks this)

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛’𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: listen…. The idea of kids and having kids getting pregnant all that jazz, yeah. It fucking terrifies me! LOL! But nonetheless I really do see the appeal and sometimes i catch myself reading these kinds of fics so i really hope you like it anon! :)

PS: updates are going to slow down cuz i don’t have any drafts ready for upload and also things are a little crazy personally so yeah hope y’all understand :)

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“You like that baby?” Bucky groaned in your ear.

“Yes daddy! Oh my god,” you moaned.

“You’re being such a good little girl for your daddy. Fuck, daddy. You're gonna make me a daddy. I’m gonna come inside you and you’re gonna get all swollen and round with my baby. You want that? You wanna be a mommy; make me a daddy?” 

Bucky and you both expressed in the past that kids were something you both wanted but with Bucky still heavily involved with missions and the avengers, and you were in college studying to get a PhD in biomechanics and computer engineering, something that would let you understand and work with Bucky specifically very closely. You were too young to have a baby but that didn’t stop you from playing into fantasies of having a family with the man you were so in love with. 

“Daddy,” you moaned.

“Give it to me, baby,” you looked him into his eyes.

Bucky kissed you hard as you both came and after cleaning yourselves up you had showered together, ate dinner quickly, and soon went to bed. 

That was two months ago. 

Three weeks after that night, Bucky was gone for about two weeks on a mission with Steve. You and the girls were drinking wine but you opted out for the tempting glasses feeling nauseous that entire week. 

As a joke, the girls were saying you were pregnant but you were sure that you and Bucky were always cautious when having sex. It wasn’t a good time to have a baby. So you joked that all three of you should take a pregnancy test and when yours came out positive you freaked out. 

“Oh my god! Bucky’s gonna kill me!” you panicked.

“Hey, relax. It’s ok,” Nat comforted you.

“We can get through this. Now did Bucky explicitly say he doesn’t want kids?” Wanda asked.

“No, we both want kids it’s just, ugh, life is so fucking crazy right now and I’m still in school, Bucky’s going on missions all the time. It’s just not a good time to have a baby.”

“Ok think about it this; if life for us was normal, as boring as that is, would Bucky be upset if you were pregnant?” Nat reasoned.

“No, he would be so happy. He wants to be a dad, it’s just so sudden,” you said in distress.

“It’s always sudden with this situation. But what’s more important is that you have support. Whatever your decision is in the end we'll all support you, even Bucky,” Nat told you.

Bucky came back home and immediately knew that there was something that was upsetting you. You promised him that you were alright but you were conflicted. You tried to tell him, you really did, but there wasn’t a good time. 

One night Bucky tried to initiate sex when you two had the tower to yourselves. You were instantly distant with him afraid he’d take one look at your naked body and know you were pregnant and that freak you out. 

“Baby, are you ok?” Bucky asked that night.

“Yeah, I just don’t feel good,” you didn’t actually lie, the pregnancy did affect your appetite drastically and many foods you used to adore before were repulsive to you. 

“Oh ok, do you need anything?” he was concerned.

“No, I think I’m ok.”

Now present day, you and Bucky hadn’t had sex since. It’s been a little over two months and Bucky wasn’t frustrated per say but he missed you; he missed having his hands on your warm and soft skin. He missed the way you squirmed under him and the little whimpers you made. How good your walls felt as he thrusted in and out of you torturously slow. 

You two were in the kitchen sitting with some of the other team members. So far only Nat and Wanda knew about your pregnancy as hard as it was to not tell Vision or Steve or literally anyone. You stared at the breakfast sitting in front of you; it used to be your favorite but looking at it and smelling it was making you extremely nauseous. 

“Baby?” Bucky rubbed your back.

“Hm?”

“Why aren’t you eating? It’s your favorite,” he said.

“I’m not too hungry,” you said.

Bucky wasn’t convinced but because you were in front of other people he didn’t want you to feel embarrassed like a father scolding a teenager. His hand rested on your thigh and immediately felt your leg tense up. 

You retracted and stood up walking away without saying a word and Bucky was confused and followed you quickly shoving as much food in his mouth as he could and tossed his plate in the sink. 

“What’s going on with them?” Steve asked.

“Oh no are they gonna break up?” Sam asked with genuine concern, as much as he fucked around with Buck he did admire your relationship. You are really good for him and he loved you unconditionally.

“No, it’s just-” Wanda started.

“Wanda,” Nat warned. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she rolled her eyes, “There fine. Y/n’s just not feeling well and she doesn’t want to be bothered.”

Bucky walked into your shared room and found you changing into yet another hoodie. That’s when he started piecing things together; or at least he thought. You were always wearing very big clothing and covering your body; that he thought was the most beautiful he’d ever laid eyes on. You were constantly nauseous and refused to eat even some of your favorites dishes and meals. You wouldn’t let him touch even though he’s initiated a couple of times.

“Y/n?” Bucky asked.

“What?” you played dumb.

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I told you I don’t feel good.”

“That seems to be your excuse a lot.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“Y/n, be honest with me. Are you starving yourself?” he had tears in his eyes; he couldn’t even think about you doing this to yourself.

“What! Bucky no! I’m not, ugh, just,” you stuttered.

“What is going on, please tell me, baby?”

“I’m pregnant!”

Silence. Bucky was shocked. You were pregnant? How long? Why didn’t you tell him? 

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” you started crying.

“No, no, no, no, don’t cry babygirl,” Bucky hugged you tightly while you sobbed into his chest.

“I’m happy, I’m really happy and excited for us. We’re gonna be a family,” he smiled.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know, I know we talk about this and having a family but not now. I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“Well, I’m a bit bummed that you didn’t tell when you found out but no; I’m so happy. I love you from the bottom of my heart and I would do anything for you. I’m gonna be here every step of the way and we’re gonna get through this together, ok?”

“Ok,” you sniffled. 

“Are you ok? Do you need anything?” Bucky already started going into protective dad mode and he just found out.

“No I just need you,” you whispered. 

“God, I love you,” Bucky picked you up and laid you on the bed littering your face in kisses.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked you.

“Well, uh, the girls,” you said.

“You told the girls?”

“Well, they were drinking and i declined because I was feeling sick and they joked that I was pregnant so we all took pregnancy tests as a joke but mine came out positive. I took two more and they were all positive,” you started tearing up.

“Hey don’t cry, it’s ok.”

“Sorry,” you laughed.

“We’re gonna be ok, right baby?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I love you.”

Bucky leaned down again and pressed kisses to your neck making you giggle. His warm hands trailed under your shirt making your skin burst into chills. Bucky’s lips continued their assault on your neck and before you knew Bucky started lifting your sweater over your head.

You did the same to Bucky and your chests were pressed against each other instantly as he kissed you hard. Bucky trailed kisses down your body slowly, hands rubbing your skin softly, lips staying longer than usual around your stomach for obvious reasons. 

Bucky peeled your sweats from your body and didn’t hesitate to dive in. His tongue licking a long strip against your pussy. You moan softly and your hips wiggled under him. He pressed down on you to keep you from squirming but you were getting very close to your orgasm and it just felt too good. 

Bucky brought his fingers and circled your entrance before inserting a finger slowly. He looked up at you moaning at his fingers and this encouraged Bucky to insert another one. His fingers slipped in and out with ease with your arousal practically dripping from you. 

Bucky leaned forward and circled his tongue around your clit. The obsecene sounds of Bucky finger fucking you echoed in the room and you finallly climax, cumming all over his finger. Bucky crawled up your tired body after taking his pants and boxers off. 

Bucky didn’t bother putting a condom considering you’ve been his only partner the past couple years and he got you pregnant. He pumped his cock a few times before grabbing your legs to wrap around his waist and easily slipped between your folds. 

“Fuck, baby girl. You feel so good,” Bucky moaned in your ear.

“Oh shit, yes,” you whimpered.

“Oh you’re gonna be so beautiful when you're all big and swollen, shit. You’re gonna be the sexiest mommy in this whole fucking world.”

“Ugh! And you’re gonna be such a sexy daddy,” you smirked and cupped his face.

He leaned down and kissed you passionately. He thrusted into you harder and your back arched into his chest, moaning high pitched and loudly. Your hands tugged on his hair and Bucky groaned in your mouth. 

“Oh Buck, I’m gonna come,”you said against his lips.

“Let go, baby. Come for me, mommy,” Bucky said. 

You came hard; your body contracted and trembled, your stomach tightened, your toes curled, and your legs pulled Bucky deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum coating your walls. Bucky settled on you but bounced back afraid he was crushing the baby.

He went to the bathroom, well practically sprinted, and returned with a warm towel to clean you up. Your body laid still while you were cleaned and you just watched Bucky with adoration. He left again and returned wearing boxers and held a bottle of your favorite lotion that you usually saved for special nights or for Tony’s parties.

You smiled and got comfortable as Bucky poured some lotion in his hand. His hands spread the lotion evenly on your body; thumbs skimming your sensitive nipples, gently caresses all over your stomach, teasing grazes along your inner thighs. You closed your eyes and felt euphoria. 

The love of your life was really pampering you and you felt so good. 

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too,” Bucky kissed your forehead, crawling into the bed with you.

“Let’s stay in all day. My girl is pregnant and she’s gonna need all the rest she can get,” Bucky joked.

“But what about-”

“No, who cares,” bucky interrupted.

“But-”

“No buts.”

“What are we gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“Oh, well. It’s your body, your comfort. You tell them when you feel it’s best. But I do hope it’s soon because I’m so happy and I don’t think i'd be able to keep this a secret for long,” Bucky dived his head in your neck making you laugh.

“Ok,” you whispered.

“Man, I’m gonna be a dad,” Bucky sighed happily.

“You’re gonna be daddy,” you said innocently.

“I’m already your daddy,” he playfully growled.

“Then you’re gonna be two types of daddy,” you smirked.

“Two types of daddy.”

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TAGLIST:

@mathletemadison 

[lokidiabolus]

Last Resort - chapter 1

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Pairing: Thomas x Newt

Warnings: ex boyfriends, AU

Summary: Three years after breaking up with Thomas, Newt finally thought the past of hating each other was behind them, until Thomas asked him for a favour - pretend they got back together for a week while staying at his parents' home. Because it was an absolutely dumb idea, Newt was inclined to refuse, but then found himself in the house he used to visit when he was in love and happy and the bitter reality of only pretending for people he always liked made him miserable. But it was nothing against dealing with Thomas himself for a week straight and trying not to fall back in love that hurt them both.

Or: Prompt ch. 192 with added spice. Or something. I just needed to write for a while :')

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: Hi! I was really into writing something, like really, really hyped, but then couldn't find anything that would make me go "yaaas!". So I thought of just giving up, until I somehow vaguely recalled I wrote this small one shot about two exes falling back in love in parents' house, and just sort of thought: oh yeah. Angst, good. Could add some horny. Good. Let's try. So here we are. Trying. It's not exactly deep or anything. I just needed to get this out of my system :') And it's not like I can't write anything else but AUs... ha.

Unbetad!

Sometimes Newt felt like the world was against him in literally any kind of situation. Once he decided to commit to something, a sudden force worked against him immediately, completely ruining the plan, or at least derailing his confidence in it. For about a year he thought that maybe it was the Universe giving him signs, for another year it felt like a karmic backslash and this year he settled on the fact he was just being despised by whatever higher force was in charge.

Although last year wasn’t as bad, really, until November 12th on dot. If it was about to be documented anywhere, he was just getting out of his shower, quite sleepy already, in rather calm, peaceful mood, once his phone dinged with a new message and he, without knowing the consequences of reading it, opened it. Even though it had Thomas as a sender - he thought later it should have deterred him from ruining the night for himself. Yet, his stupid lizard brain just clicked on it, blissfully unaware.

ThomAss - [23:14] – This is a life-or-death matter, you HAVE TO help me out D:

Newt - [23:15] – HAVE TO even.

ThomAss - [23:16] – YES. Please. I’m ready to beg too, that’s how desperate I am!

Newt - [23:17] – Hmm. Tempting. On your knees?

ThomAss - [23:18] – It’s negotiable.

Newt - [23:19] – Might think about it. Go on.

ThomAss - [23:20] – I need you to come home with me. I mean to my parents’ home.

Newt - [23:21] – What…?

ThomAss - [23:22] – It’s an emergency. They’re being persistent, so I need to bring somebody over.

Newt - [23:24] – I don’t follow?

ThomAss - [23:25] – Somebody I’m dating, that is.

Newt - [23:26] – Yeah, no.

ThomAss - [23:27] – Pleaaaaaaaaaase! T^T

He refused to admit he was fuming when he tossed his phone on the mattress and ignored how it beeped several times with new messages. There was no bloody way he’d go all smiling into Thomas’ parent’s house and pretend they were dating when they broke up three years ago in bad blood and it took them over two years to recover enough to be able to at least talk in a civil way. Sure, these past few months were sort of… better than the rest, though Newt didn’t really know if there was a reason, or they just let go of the grudge.

Well, partially let go, at least Newt’s was still lightly festering sometimes, on bad days when he was stupid enough to let his guard down and remind himself of it.

His phone beeped three more times and then the silence of his flat got sliced to pieces by the obnoxious ringtone he put in spite to Thomas’ contact two years ago. They weren’t calling each other, so there was no way he’d hear it at any point back then, but now, when the sound filled his home, he had a fleeting thought of smashing the phone to pieces instead.

“I said no,” he answered anyway, cold enough for Thomas to definitely get shivers on the other side of the line.

“Newt, please, I beg you,” Thomas didn’t even bother with greetings and whined like a five-year-old. “You can’t possibly be that cruel, can you?”

“Minho,” Newt gritted out. “Why not him?”

“He’s in England! Drinking tea! He’d throw me off the Big Ben if I interrupted his super-secret-date-everybody-knows-about!” Thomas responded frantically and Newt pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Fine, he had a point, probably, Minho would rage at him if he tried to drag him back shit like this. He planned the totally-not-a-date for months, never introduced the person and then disappeared. Everyone knew why, but they didn’t know to who.

“Teresa.” Another possibility, and Thomas’ groaned into the speaker.

Oh, so he already asked her, and she turned him down. Not to mention…

“Brenda?”

Another groan.

“For fuck’s sake,” Newt had to force himself not to throw the phone against the wall. “Have you literally asked everyone and I’m the bloody last resort?”

“Sort of?” Thomas piped and Newt refused to acknowledge how it stung weirdly.

Am I being hypocritical?

It wasn’t like he was willing to go anyway, but somehow his pride didn’t like it. And his pride was a bitch, he knew, and had the power to overwrite his common sense.

“Look, it’s just…” Thomas sighed into the phone. “…embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” the blond repeated. He would say uncomfortable maybe, but embarrassing? “What is bloody embarrassing about it? I’ve heard you snore and fart and throw up and come, and you think this is embarrassing?”

“This is embarrassing!” Thomas whined like couldn’t hear the naked truth and Newt shook his head. They had their history, and it wasn’t just a week short fling. They lived together for three years and dated for seven, there honestly couldn’t be much of an embarrassment present anymore.

Although maybe yes, after three years of barely talking.

“You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled after, dropping a towel he was drying his hair with on the bed. “How’s this even a question, can you just tell them you’re single? Or. I don’t know, that the person you date had other business to attend to?”

“No,” Thomas answered immediately. “I can’t and I won’t. You act like you don’t know them, they’re onto me.”

“Cuz you’re a liar?” Newt tilted his head to the side and Thomas grumbled.

“Am not, okay.”

“So where’s your significant other that can’t attend?”

“On the phone right now, being difficult. Obviously,” Thomas delivered without ounce of shame and if he was standing right in front of Newt, he would have one in his face. “Look, I didn’t want to ask you, cuz of course it’s kinda weird, since my parents already know you and all.”

Of course he would rather bring Teresa or Brenda over, Newt thought and the bitterness surprised him.

“Well, at least they wouldn’t be as shocked,” he said in response, pushing the wave of reminiscing back down. “Imagine Minho, he would probably tear the place apart.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t break up with Minho,” Thomas reminded him, keeping the sombre tone despite Newt trying to lighten the situation.

“You don’t say,” he said instead. “And?”

“And they know we did,” Thomas continued. “So it’s gonna be awkward, you know.”

“Can imagine, yes,” Newt didn’t want to play dumb. “I already told you no though, so there’s no reason to torture yourself with the what if.”

“When did I ever want anything this important from you though!” The whine was back, and Newt sucked in a sharp breath.

“You want me to make you a list? Or would a text suffice.”

“I told you I’d beg on my knees, right? I will. I’m ready to go to your place right now and kneel for the whole night if that’d please you,” Thomas shot back, sounding too serious for Newt’s liking. His neighbours would hate him if Thomas spent the night in front of his door on his knees, serenading him just to make him cave in.

“For fuck’s sake, for how long am I going to be pretending I love your stupid face again then?” he growled unhappily and Thomas on the other side let out a small laugh.

“Well, mum said a weeklong vacation, but I’m sure like three days would be enough to sate her craving for whatever she actually craves when she forces me to do this,” he dropped like a week wasn’t a death sentence or could pose an actual problem with Newt’s remaining vacation days. Which was not. But Thomas didn’t know that.

“I know you have vacation days left, since you always hoard them,” Thomas immediately added like he could read his mind and Newt couldn’t stop the curse leaving his mouth. “It’s not so bad, right? Countryside, fresh air, great food and for free.”

“For the cost of my sanity, but sure, for free,” Newt grumbled and padded to the table to boot up his notebook. “When?”

“I’d pick you up on this Friday at 3? Work or home, your pick.” There was an obvious relief in Thomas’ voice and Newt kind of wanted to remind him they still broke up and barely talked to each other for two and half years, so it was not going to be a walk in a park at any point, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I work till 4,” he uttered while opening his e-mail and started to write a request for vacation. “So something past 4 in front of my workplace should be fine.”

“Four? Since when?” came a question and Newt rolled his eyes. “It used to be 3 max.”

“Three years ago, sure,” Newt decided to overlook Thomas’ weird habit of keeping shit like this memorized. “Things changed.”

“You work longer for the same pay?” Thomas guessed and Newt scoffed.

“I’m not an idiot, okay,” he commented sternly. “I got promoted. So I go to work a bit later, but work till later too.”

“Aaah,” Thomas voiced. “That’s pretty cool. Congratz.”

Year and half late, but I guess it’s the thought that counts. He just hummed.

“Then four it is,” Thomas got back on track easily. “Thanks, Newt. You’re a lifesaver.”

“You don’t know what it will cost ya yet, don’t be so happy about it,” Newt said grumpily. “I don’t work for free.”

“How’s pleasant company and free accommodation and full inclusive not enough for you? You spoiled little bitch,” Thomas faked an offended tone and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Pleasant company is questionable, since you’re going to be there,” he shot back, more out of habit than with an actual spiteful intent. “But I guess your family will do.”

“Oof, alright,” it didn’t take anything from the cheerful tone of his, “you can send me a bill after. Fucking high maintenance as always, aren’t you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Newt chirped and hung up. The moment he sent the mail to his boss he immediately regretted it.

***

Friday came so fast Newt barely noticed the week whooshing past him, and suddenly it was 3:50, he was basically done with his workload for the day, his weeklong vacation got a green light and a bag with his things was sitting mockingly on his table, reminding him he was an idiot who just liked to make himself miserable.

Thomas was already texting him since morning to not forget to pack undies like he was a mastermind of great humour and Newt’s eyes lingered a bit too long on a kitchen knife when he was packing yesterday.

But then again, Thomas’ mum definitely had much better cutlery, so the variety of murder weapons just multiplied.

He pointedly ignored how his stomach lurched at the sight of Thomas at his car in casual clothes and unzipped jacket like it was spring (the -4 degrees disagreed with him, and especially with Newt’s complete lack of proper thermoregulation), actually having a pleasant expression on his face Newt last seen… well, long time ago. He took Newt’s bag and put it in the boot of the car with such nonchalance Newt almost believed his parents might be tricked into thinking they really got back together, how smooth and easy he made it look. Newt refused to ruin it with sarcasm, so he just got into the passenger seat and let Thomas get them on the road.

“You know Christmas is still a month away, right?” Thomas commented once Newt got rid of his coat and scarf, since the car was warm inside, and tossed it onto the back seat, before putting on the seatbelt.

“Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow at him and didn’t like the smile Thomas had on his lips. He was going to nag, for sure.

“Just that you’re wrapped like a present,” came an expected comeback. “How many layers you even have? You took all of your winter clothes on?”

“Stuff it,” the blond glared at him. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s not that cold though?” Of course Thomas wouldn’t let it go.

“Just cuz you circulate lava and not blood doesn’t mean others do too,” Newt’s glare intensified. “Like it’s something bloody new I’m cold as fuck all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s really not,” his companion shrugged with self-satisfied smirk and Newt wanted to stomp on the brake and just get out of the car. Why did he agree again?

Prick.

What even made him so happy? Still didn’t realize how many faked smiles he’s going plaster on his face through the stay? Or he didn’t care?

“What are we going to tell them?” he asked instead to bring them closer to the problem, since the resolution was only three hours’ drive away. He wouldn’t admit it, but since he agreed to help with this clownery, he couldn’t stop thinking about what to tell the people he genuinely liked and didn’t want to lie to. He could almost forget how rare it was to stay alone with Thomas these days – or months – or years – without an urge to strangle the brunet every time he got close and opened his mouth, when they were sitting in the car so peacefully now.

It was calm but utterly bitter.

The bitterness, Newt thought, was probably still the remnant from three years ago. Maybe not as vicious, but still accompanying him after all these years, every time they saw each other. The first year was catastrophic, the second they both calmed down a bit, and the third they actually managed to lead a normal, reasonable conversation with minimum insults.

Newt wasn’t shy to admit he missed his ex during quiet moments of his life; somehow. He was especially prone to it during his birthday, somehow spending the passing years without Thomas’ company hurt, despite the bad parting. Talking with Thomas with more ease was nostalgic. But his brain always helpfully supplied it was not going to last because they were still the stupid, broken up them deep down.

Not to mention pretending to be lovers just to get Thomas’ parents off his back was lame as fuck. He had no idea why he agreed. Maybe he was lame too.

“I don’t know. We bumped into each other on a party and made out in a closet,” Thomas responded, the smile finally falling off, his eyes glued to the road before him. “And decided to try it again.”

“Ugh.”

“What, you have a better idea?” Thomas shot him a look and Newt snorted.

“We managed to talk normally again and realized we’re still in love with each other?” he offered, just to piss him off. “Since, you know, it happens to normal people?”

“What, sex in the closet does not?” There was that annoyance in Thomas’ voice again Newt knew so well. They usually talked to each other like that – annoyed, nagging, angry, and it wasn’t hard to fall back into it.

“Probably to you,” he averted his eyes from his companion and watched the passing scenery instead. “But I’m not that easy.”

“That’s true,” he heard Thomas whisper, more to himself, and rather buried himself lower into the seat. The fact their intimate life sucked the last month they were together hadn’t been a secret and Newt was very much aware it just sped up the fall of their relationship. But at that point it all felt wrong, and the last thing Newt had wanted was having angry sex, or sex out of obligation, or basically anything intimate without enjoying the other person’s company. Because they sure weren’t enjoying each other for some time already.

Thomas didn’t like it. And he was pretty open about not liking it. But then again, so was Newt.

And then they broke up. It was outside during Christmas, under the lit-up tree on the city square, and Newt still considered it the most unpleasant memory of his life. They were furious, both of them, and the breakup was inevitable, but when it finally came, it wasn’t an explosion full of shouting or accusing as he expected.

Nope, it was quiet, cold and devastating. Seven years down the drain, just like that.

“Let’s go with your version,” he heard Thomas saying roughly. “It happens.”

“Yeah,” he piped, closing his eyes.

In fairy tales.

***

“Oh my god, I knew it!”

It was the first thing that hit them both when the door to the house opened and Thomas’ mother ran out, shrieking like a siren while going straight to Newt and almost suffocated him in an embrace. “I knew you two would get back together, I knew it!”

“There goes the surprise,” Newt managed from the rest of his breath and when she finally released him just to run back to the house to tell the rest of the family the big news, he gasped like he was drowning.

“Good to know she’s as strong as ever,” he croaked, and Thomas hummed and took both of their bags to carry it inside. He had gotten visibly darker and grumpier the closer they got to his hometown and now he almost visibly carried a dark, raining cloud above his head, looking like he just arrived at his own funeral.

Newt followed him inside with surprising ease though, like returning to this place somewhat negated everything Thomas tried to spoil. He had only nice, pleasant memories of this house, and those people, so even if Thomas ought to be a dickhead, he could always enjoy himself here.

“Newt!” a roaring voice welcomed him next, and another crushing hug lifted him from the floor. Thomas’ father was a big, broad guy who could probably lift the house itself, and his jolly personality apparently remained untouched as well.

“Hi there,” the blond greeted him right the moment he got back to the ground, trying to withstand the bear pat that followed. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Likewise!” the big guy cheerily replied. “Glad to see he came back to his senses! Was seriously afraid he’d bring that gloomy goth girl here, I don’t think we have enough black around for that.”

Teresa or Brenda.

“Nah, he still has a thing for blonds,” he replied with a smile and immediately heard Thomas’ scoffing from the living room. The fact that both Teresa and Brenda turned him down must have scarred his ego a lot.

The jab was worth it though.

***

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Anna (Thomas’ mum) patted his arm for about fourth time already since they arrived, her face fond and eyes happy, and it made Newt guilty as hell. They all gathered in the kitchen, which smelled like fantastic food and happy memories. “I swear the breakup was so shocking, we didn’t want to believe it. Tom took it so badly too, I-,”

“Mum,” Thomas’ voice sounded threatening from behind them. “Stop feeding him useless stuff. He just got off work and spent three hours in the car, let him breathe a little.”

She made a face at him but sent Newt an apologetic smile and gave him a muffin. Still tasted as he remembered, and he had to admit those small welcoming bits were the only brakes he had from running away. It wasn’t like Thomas was nasty towards him or anything – he wouldn’t dare since they’d call him out on it – but since they had the talk in the car Newt could feel the uncomfortable tension between them that always ended in an argument.

“You want coffee?” Newt realized Thomas was looking at him now, eyebrows raised, and he just nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

“I’ll bring it to you, you can go sit with others,” Thomas added as if he couldn’t get rid of him fast enough and Newt didn’t argue with that logic. The moment he left the kitchen and sat between Thomas’ dad and sister, relief washed over him, and he could finally breathe a little easier.

“I thought you’d already be married to somebody decent,” Hannah (Thomas’ little sister) commented while she plastered herself against Newt’s side like she used to do when she was little. Newt haven’t seen her for about four years, give or take, and now she was 14 and apparently full of opinions. “And not wasting your time with him again.”

Him, pointedly looking at her brother who was sneering at her while entering the living room with Newt’s coffee, was seemingly normal occurrence lately, judging from zero reactions from the parents.

“I know, I’ll never learn,” Newt piped in anyway, which made Thomas sneer at him for a change, and almost spilling the coffee on him, not even trying to mask it as an accident.

“Do I have to be the target of your bad jokes?” he glared at them collectively and when Anna arrived after him with dinner, Newt felt nostalgic, like literally nothing changed, and he relaxed into it with more ease than he expected.

He was just glad Thomas was sitting further from him and didn’t need to force himself to act natural. When he reached for the coffee, his favourite taste of it surprised him, but he didn’t meet Thomas’ eyes.

***

“I have to say, you got even cuter,” Anna suddenly said once they were past dinner, Newt couldn’t eat or drink anymore or he would explode and decided to walk it out while helping her bringing dishes to the kitchen and putting them in a dishwasher.

“Anna,” he chuckled. “That’s not what a guy wants to hear.”

“I’m just saying,” she had a genuine smile on her face. “I feared I’d never get to see you here ever again. I know you don’t really want to talk about the breakup and all…”

She stopped for a second, her eyes searching, and Newt hated how strangely painful it made him feel. He sincerely hoped it didn’t show on his face.

“I just want you to know I’m happy you two got back together,” she concluded, which meant it definitely showed on Newt’s face and she saw it. “I know you must have your reasons back then and everything, but I’m just… so glad for you two. And I wish you’d visit more often as well.”

Newt’s chest tightened like he was about to have a heart-attack and he had to push the guilt back down with the power of his sheer will alone, right in front of her trusting, hopeful eyes, like he was disarming a ticking bomb with 10 seconds on the countdown. He expected maybe some initial awkwardness, or some of them poke fun at how they finally got their shit back together after three years, but this wasn’t the plan and he hated how he wanted to hide behind Thomas’ back and just push him to deal with this instead.

“Yeah,” he gulped down the rising agony. “We absolutely should.”

Liar.

“You were always such a great kid,” she pushed herself from the kitchen counter and pulled him into a tight, heartfelt hug. Tears almost spilled out of Newt’s eyes when she squeezed him with loving gentleness he didn’t want to feel again to know what he was missing. “We all love you so much. Thank you for coming back.”

He couldn’t stop the guilt anymore and quietly wept into her shoulder, praying to any higher power for her not to notice.

***

It wasn’t an escape. He did not run away like a coward the moment he could. He didn’t light up his cigarette outside on a porch with trembling hands because he couldn’t get his nerves under control. It just happened. He just felt like it. He just needed the fresh air, nothing else.

He thought, maybe if he kept telling himself that, the tears would eventually stop and he wouldn’t be sniffling anymore into the night, with sky sprinkled with stars and air cold enough to make his face feel like ice.

He heard the door opening only vaguely, his eyes stinging, until the automatic light flashed above him, signalizing a movement nearby. He noticed Thomas too late, he realized when he started pathetically wiping away tears into his sleeve.

“You okay?” Thomas asked a bit abundantly, seeing the state of his, but Newt had to admit there weren’t many other questions to ask anyway.

“Yeah,” Newt sniffled, trying to get his feelings under control, but failing miserably. “Sorry… just. Give me a few, I’ll be fine.”

Thomas took a step closer, and Newt hated how he flinched at that.

“Mum told you something?”

He had an unreadable face, Newt thought. Neutral and careful and Newt couldn’t say what he was thinking. He hated how the ability of reading this man just disappeared like the rest of their history.

“Nothing bad,” he shook his head and brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling shortly. His hands still trembled but not as badly anymore. “Are they worried?”

“Not yet, I think,” Thomas replied quietly, glancing towards the door, then sighed. “I guess it’s… kind of painful.”

“Kind of,” Newt agreed softly. “But it reminds me how nice it was when it lasted.”

“Yeah,” Thomas finally glanced at him, his eyes a bit warmer. “It was amazing.”

Newt felt a lump in his throat forming, and the more Thomas was looking at him, the worse it got, until he couldn’t really stand it. So he offered a small, apologetic smile, put the cigarette out and returned back to the house with buzzing in his head and weird pressure in his chest.

The mischievous grins Thomas’ family gave him once he reappeared in the living room never felt so wrong.

***

Newt didn’t really plan on it, but since the night progressed and his company slowly started leaving for the night, he eventually fell asleep on the couch in the living room. He thought he heard somebody trying to wake him while softly saying his name, but he was too exhausted to rise to the challenge and just let his eyes close shut.

The last thing he noticed was sudden warmth engulfing him, like being hugged by a fluffy animal and then he was out like a light.

He dreamed of first loves and heartbreaks.

***

“You’re being 17 only once in your life, man, cheer up a little!”

Newt grumpily looked at the shot he was given with liquid of unknown origin and then back at Minho, who was grinning at him encouragingly, already drunk enough to be considered not the most reliable source of what fun is. Newt couldn’t say he liked the taste of any alcohol he tried so far, and even though Minho made it look like it’s the most delicious thing he ever had, every cup tasted like spirit and burned unpleasantly.

Sure, he was 17 today. Sure, he tried alcohol because everybody did to celebrate, but every time they looked away, he just poured the rest of his cup into something that could hold it (the cactus probably wasn’t happy about it and Newt mentally apologized to the plant when he disposed of the rest of his beer in its pot).

“Lemme take that from you,” a sudden movement on his side caused the small glass to be taken from his hand, and then a brown-haired boy downed the drink like it was water. Newt had no idea who he was, but since he saved him from possible vomit-inducing moments, he immediately liked him.

“My saviour,” he grinned once the boy tossed the empty glass back to Minho who barely caught it. The boy smiled back at him, his big, brown eyes warm and honestly really pretty.

“Thomas,” he introduced himself. “I take it you’re the birthday boy. Newt, right?”

“Right,” the blond nodded in agreement. “You here with Ben?”

It was just a guess, but he vaguely remembered Ben mentioned something about bringing friends over and Newt didn’t mind. The more people present, the easier would it be for him to disappear at some point to avoid being cornered with other alcoholic beverages.

“Yep,” Thomas nodded with a cute smile. Newt wondered if he was already at least a little drunk to be so easily charmed. “I know I should have brought a gift, since it’s your b-day and all, but I kinda came empty handed. Sorry about that.”

“Preposterous,” Newt faked a shock, hand on his chest and laughter bubbling in his throat, but Thomas was already fishing through his pockets as if he was searching for something to give, and that made him laugh for real. “It’s fine, Tommy. You saved me from alcohol poisoning, you have a free pass.”

“That’s lame though,” Thomas objected unhappily and then finally found his phone in his back pocket, looking at Newt expectantly. “Can I at least get your number? I swear I will make it up to you.”

Normally Newt would argue he didn’t need anything, for real, don’t sweat it, but the more he was looking into Thomas’ eyes, the more his common sense refused to work, and caving in was so, so easy.

“Sweet,” Thomas smiled happily when he saved the contact and then slung his arm around Newt’s shoulders, leaned close and took a quick photo of them both on his phone. “You won’t regret it.”

“I know I won’t,” Newt said, and he meant it.

***

He woke up with his head painfully pounding, like he slept too long or too short. In a moment of confusion of his whereabouts one glance across the empty but messy living room from yesterday’s festivities gave him the answer he sought – he was in hell and it smelled like pancakes.

He gingerly sat up, analysing the situation carefully, until his eyes stopped at the clock showing 12:04 and Newt refused to believe them. He couldn’t have possibly slept till noon, right? Thomas was playing a prank at him by rewinding the clock or something, there was simply no way. He usually woke up at 7, if he really had a deficit then 9 the latest and felt guilty about it. Twelve sounded like a bad joke.

Then again, his body was so sore it made sense. He had a crick in his neck, his legs felt wooden and stiff and there were creases from the couch everywhere on his naked skin. He had a soft, fluffy blanket draped around his body he didn’t remember even seeing yesterday but was grateful for anyway.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in mortification. “What am I even doing?”

“Having a zombie march, I’d say,” a voice interrupted his inner freak out mercilessly and he turned around too fast for his poor head to comprehend and world spun for a moment. “Thought you died or something, geez. Since when you sleep so long?”

Thomas was slowly walking towards him with a tray, trying to balance the cups with coffee on it, and once he successfully set it down, there was only a small puddle under one, so still a success. He brought pancakes and muffins Anna baked and Newt didn’t feel like his appetite was up to this.

“I dunno,” the blond rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I guess I wasn’t really sleeping as much these past few days…”

“Your back must hate you though,” Thomas glanced at the sofa pointedly. “Only sitting for too long on this torture device is painful.”

“Eh,” Newt shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“Well, you look like shit, so not much worse,” Thomas didn’t spare him, smirking at Newt’s apparently dishevelled appearance and he just flipped him off.

“Have a pancake, you’ll feel better,” Thomas pushed the tray closer.

“Maybe later,” Newt untangled himself from the blanked instead. “I need a bath.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Newt mentally slapped Thomas so hard his face landed in the pancake cushion. In reality he just scoffed and wobbled out of the living room at the sound of his ex’ snickering.

***

Nobody really commented on Newt’s faux pas of passing out on the couch until it was time for lunch, but they did comment on his food habits (or better on having none). He barely ever ate breakfast in the morning, so he didn’t eat the fluffy pancakes, or the muffins Thomas brought him, but he did drink the coffee. Before he could even properly digest that Anna was already serving lunch and he had no way how to wiggle himself out of that one.

The rest of the day passed like a blur and when the evening came Anna was chasing him to the bed the first moment he yawned.

“You’re not going to ruin your back on this monstrosity!” she was pushing him up the stairs with Thomas behind her, laughing at them. “I don’t understand how we didn’t buy a new one yet, but now we have to, or you’d wreck yourself on it!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Newt tried to argue, but she was having none of it and finally stopped in front of Thomas’ room, which… was an obvious choice, but Newt felt his blood running cold at the sight of the familiar area.

“I prepared clean towels and everything,” she pointed at a fluffy pile on Thomas’ desk. “Good night!”

“Yeah…” the blond barely got that out and she was already leaving, calling to others downstairs to help her choose a new couch so she could immediately order it online.

“Well, at least we’ll get rid of that relic,” Thomas commented while entering the bedroom as well, all smiles like he didn’t realize there was one bed, them broken up and Newt’s absolute horror.

“We’re not sleeping in the same bed, are we,” Newt ignored him with eyes fixed at the lodging in the room and Thomas crossed his arms on his chest, his lips in a wide grin.

“What, I clearly remember you saying there is nothing embarrassing about me anymore, since you heard me fart and all.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Newt wished his words were a spell and came true, but of course they didn’t work on Thomas, since he started laughing like a hyena. Anna naturally would let them both sleep in Thomas’ room, it was an obvious choice, but he sure hated it.

Thomas’ room was the same as Newt remembered it, but it made sense, since Thomas had his own place in the city for years. His family had no reason to change it, let it be the queen-sized bed, the blue-ish walls and sleek black furniture hugging the place. It had no sofa, which was the core of the problem for one of them and Newt’s regret of saying yes returned in full force.

“It’s not like it’s a small bed,” Thomas commented matter-of-factly once he had his fill of fun and sat at the edge of the incriminated furniture, obviously taunting him.

“It’s not like I care,” Newt bit out and circled the bed in disdain. “Sleep on the floor for what I care.”

“But it’s my bed,” Thomas argued with badly concealed glee. Newt guessed it was because now he could make fun of him now, which must have made him feel good after being a target of little quips from his family for two days. “If you don’t like me in it, you go sleep on the floor.”

“I’m a guest in here,” Newt crossed his arms on his chest. “Don’t you have any manners? Not to mention you owe me for coming here and playing your lying game.”

“It has nothing to do with manners or me owing you, you’re just being a stubborn ass as always,” Thomas corrected him and clearly didn’t feel like being merciful, especially when he just flopped onto the mattress and looked at Newt expectantly. “So, let’s calm down and get some sleep. I promise I won’t attack you until you’re awake again.”

“Shut up, jerk face,” Newt barked at him and grabbed the towel Anna left there, turning to leave for the bathroom, definitely not running away. “As if I’d bloody let you.”

“Mhmmm.” Thomas’ face was grinning, and Newt wanted to set his guts on fire.

Goddamn, fuck this all.

***

Of course Thomas already laid under the covers, one arm under his head, other holding his phone and leisurely scrolling through it. The room was bathing in darkness, outside of the small lamp on the bedside table. Newt still remember that lamp from years ago, and how they almost broke it when Newt accidentally knocked it over when they were having sex… here… okay, that particular memory really didn’t need to resurface right now.

“I know right,” Thomas suddenly spoke, looking at Newt pointedly. “I was surprised that thing still works too. Got banged so badly.”

“Hmm…”

“Not the only thing that got banged though,” of course the fucker had to add, and Newt tossed his shirt he was holding at him. Only got small laugh in response and then his shirt got dropped carelessly on the floor, left crumpled there like trash. Newt wanted to kick Thomas’ ass so bad he almost reached for his whole bag to hit him with it.

“Going to stand there whole night?” Thomas was acting smugly because he had an upper hand for now, the blond knew the tactics very well. Just milking the moment until one of them snap, he sure hadn’t changed. Newt seriously considered to just leave and sleep in the car if he had to.

“Are you going to be this insufferable the whole week?” he seethed, and Thomas shrugged.

“Define insufferable. Don’t feel like I am any of that.”

“Alright, then I’ll leave tomorrow,” Newt countered him, because he was honestly too tired already and couldn’t think of anything that would make Thomas to fall from his high horse for just one second. Or just show some understanding, because the moment they got in his room he made sure to make Newt as uncomfortable as possible. “You can tell your parents whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over us sleeping in one bed?” Thomas sat up while putting his phone away and he had this old Star Wars shirt Newt got him for his 20th birthday and it was like a punch in his gut.

“Yes,” Newt just said and the warmth from the bath was slowly dissipating from his body, leaving him chilled and miserable.

“We slept together for 7 years,” Thomas objected with a small frown. “It’s not like you don’t know me. Or how I sleep.”

“It’s not like it matters in this situation.”

“I told you I won’t do anything,” another argument and Newt shook his head. He wasn’t even worried he would try anything; they were way past that phase anyway. It was just… so uncomfortable. “Jesus, Newt, please be reasonable. It’s cold, you’re shivering like a wet dog over there, I have perfectly normal, warm bed and we won’t even be touching. I don’t know what kind of block you have in your head, but can you just let it go for tonight and come here before you catch a cold and blame it on me too?”

“I-,” Newt couldn’t even start when a soft knock stopped him mid speech and the door opened few seconds later with Anna between them, smiling. Probably chaperoning, he would guess if he had a coherent thought.

“Just wanted to ask if you want chicken or steak for tomorrow lunch,” she chirped and Newt could almost see the loading screen in front of his eyes, for how much he couldn’t comprehend the sudden topic change.

“Go lie down, you’ll freeze out here,” she immediately noticed him standing there barefooted and pushed him gently towards the bed. “Do you want another blanket? I know you’re always cold. Thomas brought the fluffy one downstairs yesterday, should I fetch it?”

“It’s fine, I have two in here already,” Thomas interjected immediately and before Newt could react anyhow, Thomas reached for his hand and pulled him onto the mattress. “Will warm him up if that wouldn’t be enough.”

“Just try to be quiet, will you,” Anna seized them both in disapproving stare and Newt felt sick in his stomach. “So what. Chicken or steak?”

“I vote for steaks!” Thomas immediately shot out and Newt still didn’t understand what was even important about food in this situation, so he just nodded dumbly, and then Anna was leaving with good night and disappeared behind the door again, plunging the room into silence.

He could hear Thomas’ breathing close to his own and finally understood he lost this fight without much of a battle happening.

“Can we sleep now?” he heard Thomas ask, so he just slinked under covers and turned his back towards the man, feeling vulnerable and stupid at the same time.

***

They didn’t talk about the night. They didn’t really talk at all during the day, since when Newt woke up, Thomas was already gone, and Hannah mentioned something about him and his dad leaving early in the morning for whatever reason.

Newt hated how relieved he felt.

He spent most of the day with Anna making lunch and dodging questions about him and Thomas’ breakup and reconciliation. Anna didn’t pry as much as he feared she would, but she obviously wanted to know what happened three years ago and he had no nice answer for her, so he just kept it vague.

We stopped talking to each other properly.

We felt like we needed a break.

No, there was no bad blood between us, really. Absolutely no arguments that would cut too deep, I assure you. We just needed some time. We’re back together now after all, right.

The lies twisted so painfully on his tongue he was grateful when Thomas finally got back at 4PM and Anna’s attention turned to him instead. When the day progressed, Brian (Thomas’ dad) sat them all in the living room in the evening and opened his favourite bottle of whiskey he kept for special occasions.

They lit up fire in the fireplace and Anna brought over snacks, and just sitting there and chilling felt soothing to Newt’s guiltiness eating him up from within.

“We just sealed the deal with a new partner today,” Brian said in a booming voice when he was pouring a glass to Newt who was sincerely relieved his special occasion wasn’t Thomas and him dating again. Because that sure would send him out of the room quick, he could handle only that much before snapping.

“That’s fantastic,” he gingerly accepted the glass and watched Thomas doing to same when offered, wondering if he could somehow dump his own drink into his glass without being suspicious. They sat too wide apart though, with Thomas between his parents and Newt felt the gap deeply.

“That’s right! It means more work, but it’s going to be worth it!” Brian nodded happily and poured glass to Anna as well. When Hannah came with her own, he shooed at her to get juice instead, at which she pouted. “We were dealing with them on and off for about a year, so when they agreed to be a permanent supplier, it’s gonna make a difference.”

“You should invite the CEO for dinner,” Anna added to it and Brian immediately agreed. “But for now, cheers!”

Newt smiled and raised his glass as well, but his throat already hated it in advance. Once he sipped the wood-scented drink, he forced himself to remain passive and not make a disgusted face that was forcing its way up, grateful Anna and Brian were too busy planning what food to choose for the business dinner.

“Oh my god, can you stop shouting in my ear?” Thomas suddenly stood up when his dad leaned over him to his mum for umpteenth time. “Go sit next to her! Geez. I’m not a cushion you can bulldozer over.”

Brian laughed and pushed himself towards his wife on Thomas’ spot, which left Thomas to sit next to Newt with an unceremonious plop.

“I thought maybe cream cake for dessert?” Anna was brainstorming loudly in meantime. “Right, Newt? You always liked the cake.”

“Oh yeah, loved it,” Newt quickly switched his attention to her from Thomas’ sudden warmth next to him. “Think it’s a great idea for the dessert.”

“See!” Anna beamed at Brian happily and Newt flinched when his glass got bumped suddenly and he almost dropped it before he realized it was Thomas’ own glass touching it now.

“Pour some over,” he mumbled towards the blond quietly. “Before they notice and start pestering you about quality of well-aged alcohol.”

“Thanks…” he piped gratefully and hastily splashed most of his glass’ contents away. He noticed Hannah was looking at them, but she only rolled her eyes and started arguing with the parents that beef was no better than pork for the main dish.

“She’d drink it instead if she had a chance,” Thomas whispered towards him. “Going to be a fucking alcoholic before she reaches twenty.”

“Weren’t you the same though,” Newt objected automatically, and Thomas sipped his now almost full glass with a smirk.

“Never minded the taste, yeah,” he shrugged while licking his lips. Newt would believe from his expression the drink tasted good, if he didn’t know better. “I still like beer more though. This can easily knock me out of my socks if I’m not careful.”

“Mm.”

“You slept well?”

Newt stiffed at the question, as he expected he would if Thomas was going to breach it, and then forced his body to relax again while gripping his almost empty glass firmly.

“Fine,” he only uttered.

“Are we going to have a problem again tonight then or is it fine?” he heard Thomas asking in low voice and refused to meet his eyes. The night was alright, he slept more or less okay too, but that didn’t pose a problem in the first place, and Thomas knew it. Newt couldn’t say if it was Thomas’ way of being petty or getting revenge, but it sure bothered Newt like a thorn in his side.

“Can’t possibly kick you off, when your mum likes to check up on us,” he mumbled with a quick glance towards Anna, still in heated debate over food with the rest of the family. “So let’s pretend it’s fine.”

“I’m not pretending anything,” Thomas scoffed. “I don’t mind sharing a bed. It’s not like you’re a stranger.”

“Sure.”

“Hmm,” Thomas let out and then moved again, lifting his legs and deposited them rudely on Newt’s lap while leaning against the side of his dad who barely even noticed.

“Sure then,” he was grinning when Newt shot him a glare. “Love of my life.”

“I swear I’ll murder you,” Newt gritted through his teeth and refused to acknowledge how his heart thumped when Thomas smiled at him like he just said something overly sweet.

“Looking forward to it,” the brunet responded instead while sipping their shared drink and Newt twisted his big toe in revenge. Sadly, it didn’t have much of an effect.

***

“What the fuck happened to you over those years, jesus fuck!” If anybody asked, Newt didn’t sound like a naggy wife scolding her husband, no sir. “You can’t hold your liquor for shit!”

“Whaaa-,” Thomas’ attempt to sound offended interrupted a loud burp and then fit of laughter, all that when he was plastered over Newt’s back who was unceremoniously dragging him back to his room.

“If you throw up over my back, you’re dead,” he warned the drunkard coldly and Thomas let out hehehe but didn’t deny it. Newt suspected him he could walk just fine but wanted to be as obnoxious as possible, so Newt would have to take care of him in front of his amused parents who left them to it. Newt would be much happier if Thomas’ dad would toss his son to the bed one armed, because he definitely could, and wouldn’t leave Newt to fight with the deadweight all alone, but then again maybe it was for the best.

True enough, Thomas had in total of four and half glasses full of whiskey, even though Brian laughed at him to get drunk after three shots. Naturally didn’t know every time he poured Newt a fresh batch, even though Newt tried to tell him no thanks, he secretly dumped it into Thomas’ glass who drank it, just to get refilled from Brian again as well, and that went until the bottle was empty and Thomas started giggling.

Which led them to the situation at hand – with Newt dragging his ex up the stairs and to his room – their room – while swearing like a sailor, and then just dumping him onto the bed like a sack of potatoes where Thomas landed with soft oof.

“Why’s the room sp’nning…?” he heard the muffled question shortly after, looking at Thomas’ boneless form of a dead drunk with his face half buried in covers. “Make it stooop~.”

“You feel like barfing?” he asked instead of reacting to the drunk observation and Thomas groaned, then tried to push himself up, just to fail miserably. He tried two more times until he realized he really couldn’t get up because his arms wouldn’t support him, and just had to worm his way up to the pillow by crawling. Which was almost painful to watch, honestly.

“Neeeewt.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the blond buried his face to his hands until another whine of his name came and he walked to the bed and pushed Thomas on his back instead. That got him a sloppy grin in return in a drunk haze.

“Hi,” the drunkard slurred. “How’re ya?”

“Sucky,” Newt answered while crossing his arms on his chest.

“Oh noooo…” another whine. “Whyyy?”

“Have to take care of one smashed idiot,” Newt nudged Thomas’ side with his knee, earning another giggle. He couldn’t say he had experience with drunk Thomas – or at least with this much drunk Thomas. If he ever got inebriated enough to be considered wasted, he just passed out, usually. But today’s drunk Thomas sure had some annoying stamina and kept himself awake for too long.

“I’ll protect you from ‘im,” Thomas managed to reach out with his hand, grabbing at Newt’s sweater. “C’me to the bed.”

“I think you need a bucket first,” Newt let him pawn his sweater with a sigh.

“Mkay.” The hand on his sweater stayed, grabbing randomly, until it dropped to Newt’s thigh where it lightly squeezed, and Thomas let an appraising hum. “You got thinner.”

“It’s just your imagination,” Newt pushed the hand away and it bounced back onto the mattress. “Get changed, I’ll be right back.”

“Nooo…”

He ignored the whine and left the bedroom with a lump in his throat. Drunk Thomas could be bad for his conscience.

***

He got back half an hour later, after a bath and finding a bucket he could deposit at the edge of the bed, in hope Thomas didn’t manage to throw up in meantime. He found him sleeping sprawled over the mattress, right in the middle, still in the same clothes and smelling like a liquor store. There was no barf anywhere at least.

“Sweet,” he sighed while putting the bucket near Thomas’ possible trajectory of his head if he felt like bending over and vomiting. “Glad we had this talk about sleeping together, huh.”

He slowly crawled onto the bed, careful not to wake Thomas up (though judging by his occasional snores it wasn’t happening) and slid under the blanket as much as Thomas’ weight allowed him.

In hindsight… there was no way he could be mad at him anyway, for today. No matter how drunk the man got, he still remembered how Newt didn’t like alcohol and Newt hated how it warmed his jaded heart.

He fell asleep eventually, dreaming of grabby hands and sad smiles.

***

“Your mum is going to hear us, you ass!”

“Don’t care.”

“Tommy!”

No response, only hot lips on his neck, licking and biting and pampering it with kisses and Newt just remained pinned against the door of Thomas’ room, taking the weight of his boyfriend against his body and roaming hands grabbing at his butt and then traveling to his thigh, hiking it up to settle against Thomas’s hip. His heart was beating so loud he couldn’t hear anything else, just thump thump thump of his blood roaring, and Thomas’s sweet nothings he was murmuring to Newt’s ear in a rough voice.

“I want you so much,” Thomas whispered when unbuckling Newt’s pants, sliding his hand under them against hot, naked skin, and Newt couldn’t hold back a moan, he just needed him closer, he needed to kiss him, to touch him, to get him inside-

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Thomas bit out, voice strained, and Newt let him to lift him up and carry him towards the bed, their lips meeting in a messy, frantic kiss. It was painful, it was rushed, but it was what Newt needed, the brutal strength of Thomas’ body pushing into him and his own breathy moans coming out when their lips parted, and he heard a dull thud at some point when he was trying to hold onto the bedpost once Thomas thrusted into him so strong it made him see stars, but he didn’t care about anything else but pleasure and pain and adoration he felt when he was with him-

Newt woke up with a start, his body hot and aroused, and he felt on fire and caged and painfully hard. He could barely catch a breath when he noticed arms slung possessively around his torso and waist pushing him insistently against warm body behind him, waking up all his senses one by one like Christmas lights.

It took him a moment, the initial confusion clearing like a fog from his mind, making him realize Thomas was cuddling him from behind, one of his hands got under Newt’s shirt and was spread across his naked belly possessively.

“Shit,” he couldn’t stop himself from cursing and attempted to disentangle, but it only made Thomas to clutch to him harder, like a defence mechanism, unwilling to let go. He tried to push away one of the arms holding him, but Thomas slung a leg over his hips in response, trapping him even more.

“Don’t leave,” a sleepy voice sliced the silence and Newt stiffened once he felt hot lips on the back of his neck, mouthing there persistently.

“Thomas-.” He tried to turn around but couldn’t move an inch and Thomas bit down slightly, sending shivers down Newt’s spine.

“Mmm…” he heard the hum, and then the tense weight relaxed once Thomas fell asleep again, and Newt didn’t dare to move anymore.

It was going to be a long night and Newt refused to acknowledge the little voice in the back of his head screaming for relief by Thomas’ hand.

[millennial-star-gazer]

Tantric Flames: Chapter: 9

Tantric Flames

Nalu lovefest 2019 Prompts: Magic, Worship, Reckless , Forbidden and Cravings (All Implied)

Genres: Romance, Humor, New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing:Nalu (Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Direction is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: One look, one smouldering hooded gaze, one word, one fiery kiss, one magnetizing touch was all he needed for her to completely unravel at his mercy alone, succumbing to the sinful temptation of her inhibitions, his love, his feral passion, his raw, insatiable desires, his "Tantric Flames". Originally an Submission for Nalulovefest 2017 (on previous accounts) in which Natsu gives his mate a tantric massage-after much persuasion- she won't soon forget when it turns into so much more. Also previously featured in Nalu lovefest 2018 (on current accounts) , as well as Nalu Week 2017, Nalu Fluff Week and Nalu lovefest 2017 (as stated) with first three chapters on my previous celestialgeekmage accounts . Chapter 7 was also an entry for nalu week 2019 and Chapter 8 for Nalu Lovefest 2019. ( Nalu-centric) (Slight Au).

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Chapter 9: Tempted by A Tantric Touch

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial StarGazer! This time I'm returning with another long-awaited installment of Tantric Flames. Once again, a major thanks to and koodos to @bmarvels, @mannyegb, @animezing-fandoms/princess-starry-night, and @allie-and-her-fandoms for helping me edit and further develop this chapter! Now without further ado, here's the story-enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

(Note: Scroll down pas the keep reading button/ cut for the designated links, legend and actual chapter.  The tagging feature and keep reading button might not show up or fully work on the desktop site but should function just fine on the app and mobile version.

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Read More of Tantric Flames and the rest of my writing on here and other plaftorms.

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1. Tantric Flames

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Chapter: 9          (Next Chapter ) (Coming Soon)

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) ( or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13114990/1/Tantric-Flames-reupload-from-cosmicdragonwizardaccounts)

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Legend:

Italic: Song Lyrics/Quotes (or flashback dialogue)

Bold: First Person Thoughts

Bolded Italics: Empathized Word(s)

Bolded Italics (Within and Outside Bracket) including for author's side notes also known as (A/N:) within brackets (though none for side-notes in this chapter ).

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"You run your fingers over every part of my body and tease me with your touch".

(Source Unknown)

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Oh God, those love bites. So many love bites that decorated the blonde's creamy skin like jewels; far too numerous to count that always sent a red-hot line fire rippling through her nerves with with every nip, every suck; each every and stroke of Natsu's velvet tongue. Plus, he's usually doing other things at the same time. Racy images of the couple's steamy moments together from the last soak flooded Lucy's mind.

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Flashback

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The celestial mage's back arching of its own accord into Natsu's touch from robust hands cupping her breast; Blazing digits kneading the twin peaks in time with lips sucking along Lucy's pulse with so much skill that she couldn't help the heady moan that escaped her throat.

"Ya feel that, Luce?" Nastu growled in his princess's ear, the dark undercurrent of his territorial voice pulling a tingly shiver from her. "My marks all over that perfect body of yours— and not just the permanent one when you swore your heart to me . All of those are symbols of my essence, my claim, my love. That you belong to me and me alone. My mate and queen, forever and always. And those sounds you're makin'? Hot as hell."

Pretty sure, dude leaves marks on me as his way of announcing to the world I'm off limits as his mate. Explains why he's always quick to leave a fresh one in its place even after I cover them— not that I'm complaining. Plus, it's not only for his benefit but mine. It's great that he knows how much I love receiving hickeys and gets off from it.

Seriously, what more could I ask for?

Not to mention how lovely it always was to unwind with Natsu after each bath. The wizard was often keen in his offer to dry the blonde's damp hair with a towel or fire-magic-powered steam; from her perch on his lap or between his legs. 

Much more relaxing than using a hair dryer if you ask me.

 The dragonslayer would sometimes even hum or sing a familiar tune from days past in that appealing, gravelly baritone of his; would usually lull the already-zen mage into the world of dreams when combined with the sooth dual sensation of fingers combing through her hair, .

"I tell you, I tell you, the dragonborn comes ..."

Anyother guild member who might be eavesdropping, however, would often be quick to lightheartedly goad the blonde mage ( much to her chargin). Natsu no doubt would find this hilarious of course; which would serve for Lucy's cheeks to flush an even deeper shade of crimson than she already was.

"Say Luce, is that a blush I see?" he once crooned, a teasing edge to his words; though the affectionate mirth sparkling in his eyes warmed her heart just a little. "Aw, is my girl a little embarrassed? That's okay though— makes ya all the more adorable and endearing than you already are. You want me to make it all better? Cuz I can! Got plenty of kisses! Come on, you know you want some which I'm more than happy to give. God I love ya' so much, you know that?"

It's amazing really... Lucy ruminated in fond awe. How Natsu can switch between the different roles and sides to him with relative ease. From Romantic and tender to dominant, playful and affectionate; then back again on top of everything else all seemingly at the drop of a hat. All an innate part of his overall nature I guess— essentially what makes up who he is. Some people may find this a bit confusing to keep up with— but I don't. Just makes him all the more complex.

Though those people would also be right when they say that the dude still has a devious streak, she couldn't help but add with wry smirk. Even with me, though never with malicious intent. German suplex, non-stop tickling, dumping me in a tub of freezing cold water during one of our baths— too many pranks to count really. At least he's always quick to follow up with plenty of affection ever since we became an item— can't complain about that."

"You ready to get started Lucy?" Natsu's keen voice broke through Lucy's reverie.

"You know it!" The celestial mage chirped, unable to mask the pure enthusiasm in her voice; earning an amused chuckle from the dragon wizard . "Can't wait. I take it you'll be hoarding me for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Mhmm" Came his content hum in response." That really a bad thing, though?"

"No, definitely not."

"I figured. Why don't we get you up on that massage bed?"

"Sure thing!"

A buzz of anticipation was practically thrumming in Lucy's blood from such tantalizing implications of his words; the stunt Natsu pulled next , though— that was what really shot a thrilling jolt up her spine.

"Let's finish what we started later, yeah?"

The dragonslayer's proposal was punctuated by a light tap on the summoner's ass for good measure,; which resulted in a delighted squeal.

"O-okay!" was said female's response in the form of a breathy giggle.

"Let me get you that towel while I'm at it."

"Sure— thanks."

"My pleasure."

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A Few Minutes Later

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"Ugh...do me a huge favor and burn this towel. Will ya?"

Lucy couldn't help but let out an audible groan along with the heat rising in her cheeks. Good god was the particularly moist spot on the white towel a truly mortifying sight to behold. Basically tell-tale remnants of liquid arousal that had been wiped clean from her legs just moments before.

Mavis only knows what would happen if Levy or Cana noticed during laundry duty.

" Okay... why though?" Natsu questioned, brows drawing together in mild confusion. "As in why do you want me to?"

"Guild Laundry day" came Lucy's automatic reply."That's why."

"Not following ya.' Natsu blinked owlishly in uncomprehension.

"Levy…..and Cana….." Lucy supplied, a finger twirling an errant strand of blonde hair in :a self-conscious display." "I... uh.."

"Still don't know what you mean here, Luce."

"It's their turn to do laundry duty." She attempted to break down what was apparently such an abstract concept into simpler terms; not able to help the aggravation rising in the back of her mind.

"Yeah? So?"

"They'll probably see the moist stain on the towel." Lucy clarified, forcing her voice to remain level.

"I see— don't see the problem though."

"Think about who'll most likely be with them ."

"Gajeel and Laxus but…...ahh—"

Realization dawned on Natsu's face. "I get it now. What you're saying is that they'll probably catch a whiff of your arousal? "

"Well, the lingering remnants of the scent anyway. Seriously though?" he tacked on, lifting a questioning brow."That's what you're worried about?"

"Yeah... I am," Lucy admitted, nerves leaking into her voice. "Aren't you?"

"Not really, no." Natsu gave a shrug of his shoulders—seemingly unfazed.

"Why's that?" Lucy couldn't help but shoot him a puzzled glance. 

"Cuz it'll show everyone how much I rocked your world." Natsu replied, flashing his mate a cheeky grin. " And what's not to love about that?"

"Pervert — of course you'd say that!" Lucy screeched, skin flushing a deep shade of crimson.

"That's me!"

"Ugh, still don't know what to do about the moist spot— those four are never gonna let me live it down."

"You know if you're that worried, I could always use my tongue to clean ya up instead." Natsu drawled with a lazy smirk that set her heart all pit-patter .

"And of course, you'd suggest that," Lucy quipped with a slight roll of her eyes. "Did I mention how much of a horn dragon you are? "

"Yeah, but only for a certain gorgeous blonde of mine and she loves it."

"Oh, she does, huh?" Lucy raised a challenging brow.

"Yep. Don't bother trying to deny it, Luce".

"Ugh fine... you're right. I do. Seriously, you and your colossal ego though."

"Why, thank you! If you're impressed by that, you'd really should see my co—"

The rest of Natsu's words were cut off by Lucy's hand swatting him with a pillow which was met with a snicker.

"Pervert" Lucy deadpanned with another eye roll. "By way, you would've found yourself in the proverbial dog house if you actually meant the other kind of 'fighting earlier."

Only for Natsu's face to instantly fall in response to her statement.

"What?" Natsu objected, gaping at her with wide eyes. " And deprive me of the chance to wake up to your beautiful face each morning for that long?!"

"Yep." Lucy gave a nod by way of reply.

"But why? You know that's not the type of fightin' I met!"

"Well yeah, I know that now. But not earlier when you originally brought up. Just be glad that you didn't bail on our date earlier."

"I didn't though! And never would— honest Luce!" Natsu's voice lifted into a petulant whine.

"Hmm.. Okay, good to know. " Lucy responded, raising her hands to placate him. "Though you'll have to be without me for a few days anyway.

"Wait, seriously?" Natsu faltered , bewildered panic flashing in his eyes. . "Come on! What is it this time?"

"Camping retreat in the woods next week that Cana, Mira, Lisanna, and Erza are organizing— ladies only."

"W-ha?" Natsu continued to sputter, his poor brain no doubt short circuiting by now." But Elfman said that it was open to anyone who's free to go!"

"Really? Lucy mused in thoughtful interest. "That's not what I heard... huh."

"What am I supposed to do without you?"

"How about something fun with the guys? Should be nice, right?"

"Yeah, but so is spending time with you Lucy! It's always more fun when we're together like you said."

"And I don't disagree. Doesn't change anything though. The trip's still happening."

"Didn't say it wasn't but it'd still suck here without you! Natsu moaned, that desperate sense of longing bleeding into his voice. " I'd miss ya' too much! So would our little buddy! Can't we tag along? Maybe Even share an air mattress in a decent-sized tent? I'd gladly help set up and keep you cozy in my arms at night."

"What about Happy?" Lucy questioned, intrigued by his suggestion. His offer does sound really tempting.

"Obviously he'd share the tent with us but would have his own sleeping bag and could hang with Wendy and Carla whenever we wanted alone time. Plus there are all these cool spots I could take you to on nature hikes!."

"Sounds great."

"Course it is! So whaddya say? You onboard?" Natsu wheedled, flashing her what could only be described as the most flawless puppy eyes she'd ever seen.

"Aw that's really tempting and" Lucy gushed, heart contracting at the adorable pout he was throwing in too. Normally I'd say yes"— but it'll have to wait. Thank you though! I'd love to take you up on that offer another day."

"Oh come on— please I wanna go!" Natsu huffed,stamping his foot as if he were a child pitching a fit over being denied a coveted toy- quite an amusing display to say the least.

"Not this time I'm afraid. Sorry, them's the brakes."

"Lucyyyyyyyyy!" Natsu whined again, dragging the syllables of her name with such melodrama that she finally decided to let him off the hook

" Jeez.. enough with the dramatics already. " Lucy yielded with an exasperated groan, You can still come— the trip is for everyone. I was only kidding after all."

Said confession was met with a noise of stunned dimsay from from the pyro.

"Wait... so ya' mean to tell me that this was a joke?! he muttered, voice coming out with a small pinch of disbelief. "You were pulling my leg the entire time?"

"Yep— consider it payback for me making think you were gonna ditch earlier."

"That's why? That's not nice, Luce— not very nice at all." Natsu grumbled, though not with any real heat.

"Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?" Lucy baited, a daring lilt to her words.

" Oh —- wouldn't you like to know?" Natsu rumbled, eyes sparking in a such a calculating way that it sent a electrifying chill down Lucy's spine.

"I would— ngh! Nastuuuu!"

The rest of what Lucy was attempting to say Lucy's words were cut off by the lighting- fast sweep of Natsu's velvet tongue up her thighs . Not to mention that electric high-voltage jolt of ecstasy flooding her veins.

"There! that should show ya!" Natsu let out a cackle of glee. " Not to ever play dirty tricks on a dragon I mean. Guess you're not gonna need that towel after all, huh Lucy?"

"My God..."

"Yeah, I know . Just that amazing with my tongue, I guess. Natsu purred, voice laced with am indecorous promise "Plus, hearing ya' scream my name like that just gave me another hard-on that I'd love for you to see .. "

"Jeez … of course it'd would . and no real shocker that you would say something like that."

"Yep- you know me so well, Luce. and it's not like you're complain' anyway. Want me to prove it?"

" Maybe.. But God- you're such a pompous ass, you know that?"

"Yeah but all part of my charm, sweetheart."

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A/N: And that's Chapter 9 folks! My apologies for the delay by the way! I originally wanted to post this much sooner but got hit with writer's block after getting a somewhat stumped on a particular segment of this chapter. I've also been with my other ongoing fanfics, WIPs and responsibilities among other things in my life . That all aside, at least this chapter was finally posted! Now please feel free to do me a solid and let me know what you think by leaving a comment/ review! Stay tuned for Chapter 10 too! Oh and please feel free to check out the rest of my writing which can be found above, on my profiles and in master post if reading this on tumblr. All right, that's pretty much all I have to say for now! Thanks to all my mutuals/friends, readers and followers for their continuous support over the years! (Corresponding links for the master of my writing and profiles can be found above, in the navigation bar of the desktop and bio if reading this on tumblr.) Until next time-take care!

[shadow-dancing]

Guitar Man (Taeil)

Listen: Guitar Man ; Every time I’m With You ; New Kid in Town

Genre: white collar worker!Taeil, guitarist!Taeil, some angst, moonlighting Words: 2, 217 

It was another crowded night at Pandora's Box, the pub in town that your uncle owned. Lately there has been a guitar playing man who was drawing in hoards of people to visit, & your uncle couldn't be happier by the boom in business. You weren't into pubs or bars—the stale air & smell of booze was a big turn off for your sensitive sense of smell, & the songs that usually blared at a billion decibels were not your cup of tea. Your uncle was singing this guitar man praises every night when he came home from work, & it was driving you slightly mad.

Your friend, Taeyong, was absolutely floored that you have never heard this person live when your uncle literally ran the place. "Come on, Y/N, the guy's great! Just go listen once, trust me."

You gave in after 3 weeks, & visited the establishment on a Monday night where you hoped the crowds would be less compared to the weekends. The pub air hit your nostrils like a sucker punch & you silently gagged as you made your way to the bar. You recognized the bartender, it was Johnny, the gentle giant whom you've known since your uncle opened the place about 3 years ago.

"Hey Y/N! What're you doing here?" Johnny asked with a wave. He was aware you were not a big fan of pubs.

"Came to see the newest sensation, of course," you smiled wryly, sitting gingerly on the bar stool.

"Ah, Taeil. He's great, the bars been busier than Times Square on New Year's Eve these past weeks. I think boss is considering hiring him permanently," Johnny nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"I'll get Kun to make some fish & chips for you."

Soon you were tucking into your fish & chips with some iced Ribena. It was starting to get really crowded, & Johnny eventually got busy enough that he was making 3 drinks at the same time. You were tempted to leave; the amount of people in the relatively large space was probably over the maximum capacity at this point, & people had to jostle their ways around trying to find seats. At 7:45 the band that was playing stopped, said their thanks, & got off the stage. A relatively short young man, clad in a striped shirt under an oversized denim jacket & his dark hair side swept, took their place, a black guitar case slung over his shoulder & a bottle of water in hand. The crowd started murmuring excitedly, which gave you all you needed to know—this young man was Taeil. You were startled by his appearance when he turned around—he was wearing a white half mask to cover the upper half of his face.

Taeil adjusted the mic to fit his smaller stature, & perched on the stool that had been brought out for him. You watched as he produced an acoustic guitar from the case, & tuned it. He cleared his throat, took a quick sip of water, cleared his throat once more, & leaned into the mic a little.

"Good evening everyone—"

The crowd interrupted him with hoots & cheers. You rolled your eyes. Let the man speak, dammit.

Taeil smiled politely as the cheers died down. "I hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

You pushed aside your empty plate, sipping your drink. A hush fell over the crowd as Taeil started playing.

"Are we going insane? Do we need to explain? I feel like we know it."

Your heart leaped. Taeyong & Johnny were wrong—he wasn't just good, he was damn good. The crowd slowed their activities, their eyes trained on him as he sang. The kitchen grew quieter as Johnny & Kun paused a moment to listen.

"I could lose it all it won't be daunting Somehow I don't think I'd even care Cuz every time I'm with you I feel wanted We could make believers if we dared"

As he finished the song, the people sighed; some wiped their tears & kissed their significant others, while others wallowed in loneliness. Taeil realized the mixed reaction & wanted to stammer an apology, but the crowd burst into applause & screamed for another song. He took a swig of water & started on the next song.

"Baby I don't know why, but somehow I always seem to get tangled up in my pride"

Taeil's set ended at 9.30, much to the dismay of the crowd. He waved shyly as he hopped off the stage & disappeared through a back door. Johnny & Kun resumed their work. & you gulped down the rest of your drink. Taeil's set was over, there no longer was a reason to hang around. As you lay in bed later that night, your heart was still pounding, the sweet vocals resonating in you ears.

You found yourself at the pub after work the next day. Johnny looked up as you approached, & you knew he could tell you couldn't get enough of Taeil. At the same time as yesterday, Taeil took the stage at 7:45, & today he asked the band to accompany him as he played a rendition of Got My Mind Set On You, Oh Pretty Woman, & Part Time Lover.

"Okay break time everyone! I need to hydrate!" Taeil laughed, leaving the mic.

He squeezed past his adoring fans & made it to the bar, where he asked for some lemon tea. Johnny handed it to him, & he downed it pretty fast, almost choking on the ice.

"You okay?" You asked, offering some serviettes.

"Yeah, fine. Forgot my bottle," Taeil reassured. He flashed you a smile, before heading off to the stage again.

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Taeil scrubbed a hand over his eyes as the sun started to hang low. Work was exhausting as always, & he was more than ready to just up & leave the place. He glanced at his watch—4:55PM. 5 more minutes & he could clock out. He looked around to see what his colleagues were up to; Jungwoo was yawning widely as he typed away at his laptop, Yuta was scrawling away busily on some paper, probably doodling, & Jaehyun had his earphones plugged in—Taeil could make out some TV drama playing on Jaehyun's Netflix account. Taeil exhaled, glancing at his watch again.

Another 2 minutes to freedom.

He pushed his papers aside, pulling out a binder full of guitar chords from his bag. He flipped through the sheets to find a song to play at the pub. Are You Lonesome Tonight seemed good for a first song, maybe for the second song he could play—

"Aw yes! Finally time to leave this place!" Yuta announced loudly, standing up to stretch his arms.

"Not so loud! Do you want the boss to hear?" Taeil hissed, putting a finger to his lips.

"He left like 45 minutes ago," Jungwoo pointed out, shutting off his laptop.

"What? Really?" Jaehyun asked, taking his earphones out.

"Seriously? I thought you were watching that stupid TV drama because you knew he was gone!" Jungwoo exclaimed.

"No, I watched it because I don't want to do work. Tomorrow's a holiday for heaven's sakes why are we even here when we could've taken the day off."

"Oh whatever let's just get out of here," Yuta grumbled, packing up. "The pool table at Daydream is calling my name."

"Taeil, you joining us for pool?" Jungwoo asked. "Yuta is gonna go up against Doyoung later."

"No it's fine, I have something to do tonight. I'll see you all tomorrow, bye," Taeil said as he walked out the door.

He quickly got into his car, & drove home for a quick rinse. He found a clean shirt & threw on a black jacket & was out the door again with his guitar in hand. He was glad the owner of Pandora's Box let him play; he was tired of the tedious routine of his work days, & playing for the crowd for 1.5 hours was the one thing he looked forward to everyday, even if it meant he had to take a 2 hour drive to the pub. He had chanced upon the pub after the previous place he used to frequent got shut down due to poor business. He didn't even realize the crowds got less, as he was so focused on his playing.

Traffic was lighter than usual today, to which Taeil chalked up to being related to tomorrow being a public holiday, & most probably took the day off to make it a long weekend. He parked in his usual spot, & entered the front discreetly. It was pretty early, so there were only a handful of people inside. Johnny, the bartender, looked up as Taeil approached.

"Hey man, you're early today," he noted.

"Yeah, traffic was good. Can I get some water?"

Johnny slid him a glass of water.

"Is that musician gonna play tonight?"

Taeil almost choked on his water as he accidentally eavesdropped on the conversation of the fellas at the table behind him.

"I should think so."

"Tsk. What's so great about him? He just sings songs & strums his guitar. Anyone can do it!"

"Uh, I mean, not everyone has the—"

"Pass me a guitar & I could sing as good as him."

"Can you even play guitar."

"Does it matter?"

"Yes it does, you nitwit."

Taeil was mildly amused by the exchange, but also by the fact they thought they might like to take his place. In no way did he believe he was superior over them, but being a musician wasn't as easy as prancing on the stage with a guitar.

He wowed the crowd as always that night, and at 9.25 he looked at his binder stuffed with sheet music. What shall his final song be?

You watched intently form your seat, Taeyong cheering next to you; Taeil was absolutely glowing tonight, & everyone was all ears. He sang Elvis, & even played Piano Man by Billy Joel. You noticed the crowd seemed to be a little thin today, yet it didn't faze Taeil. He adjusted his mask, & picked up his guitar. A familiar set of chords filled your ears, & you inhale deeply.

"There's talk on the street it sounds so familiar. Great expectations, everybody's watching you."

You bit your lip slightly. What could Taeil possibly mean by playing this song? Was it just a song for tonight or did he have some intention to sing it?

"Johnny come lately The new kid in town Everybody loves you So don't let them down"

The rest of the crowd did not seem to be worried by the song. After all, why should they? The guitar man was simply here to serenade them with his angelic vocals to help them forget about life for a while. You take a swig of your Ribena. You were probably just overthinking things. After all, this song was about fleeting romance. You glanced at Taeyong briefly, & he catches your eye. He smiles, & you feel your heart skip a beat.

"There's talk on the street, it's there to remind you Doesn't really matter which side you're on You're walking away, and they're talking behind you They will never forget you 'til somebody new comes along"

As the pub emptied for closing, Taeil sat at the bar with a glass of water. Johnny was mopping up the beer some patron had spilled all over the floor, grumbling about how uncouth some people can get. Kun was singing softly in the kitchen as he washed up the dirty dishes in the sink, while his kitchen assistants cleaned the stoves & countertops. Taeil thumbed the rim of his glass, suddenly tired. Boy was he glad tomorrow was a holiday cuz he intended to sleep in late.

"You did well today, Taeil," the bar owner said as he rearranged the tables & chairs.

"Thank you, sir."

"Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, sir, just tired," Taeil admitted.

"Not surprised, you did go all out tonight," the owner nodded. "If you're too tired to make the drive home I think Johnny can let you stay in his place, can you Johnny?"

Johnny gave a thumbs up.

"Nah, I think I'll be fine."

The lightbulb above Taeil flickered. The bar owner frowned at it, muttering he should get a replacement bulb for that. Taeil stayed until the owner had to escort his employees out. Sitting in the driver seat of his car, Taeil watched as the lights went out before starting his car. 

It was time to leave. 

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"Is the Guitar Man coming back?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"I hope he does. He was fantastic."

Johnny looked up. The crowds were less now that Taeil hasn't returned to play for the past 5 days. The boss had called Taeil out of concern 3 days ago, lord knows what could've happened that night that he insisted on driving back despite his tiredness, & Taeil answered that he’s gone elsewhere to play. The boss was disappointed, but understood that sensations tend to fade out after their 15 minutes of fame. 

Johnny returned to his chores; he too had been disappointed to hear Taeil left to go elsewhere to sing. Maybe one day the guitar man would return. 

[winchester-with-wings]

I Saw You First

“An Angel & Her Assassin” sequel

Patron Benefit Fanfic for @softdudebro​!

Pairing:  College AU - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Author's Notes:  People have asked for sequels to this fic and I gave it a shot. I thought I'd dedicate this to Tomorrow since they like Bucky :) hopefully this is a good continuation and elicits some college feels cuz it definitely did for me! Hope ya'll like it!

Summary/Request:   The story of the first time you and Bucky saw each other but didn't actually meet. Then a flash forward to the present. smut.

**inspired by that one video of Seb working out** gif post

Word Count: 1700ish

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

Bucky noticed you before he ever encountered you in the laundry room or the elevator of your dorm building. It figures that it would be at the gym, likely one of the regular places he frequented. Of course, you never knew this until after that fateful night at the Halloween party when you finally, truly connected.

When you asked him to tell you the story, he was playfully vague. But you know. You were there. You’d checked him out too.

Here’s how it really happened.

-----

The summer after your freshman year, you created another reading list to focus on. One of your methods to read these had been to take a book with you to the gym. You figured getting a little exercise at the same time would only help you develop better habits.

It worked, at first. The beginning of the new semester, you went to the gym for maybe two weeks? You enjoyed the ellipticals and recumbent bikes--the things that kept your legs busy but your hands and eyes free to read. It also distracted you from feeling self-conscious about the fact that you didn’t look like the other girls that came to the gym to socialize and work on their already-perfect bodies.

With the addition of classes, going to the gym became a harder habit to keep. You could just stay in your dorm room and read all you want, right? But by now, Rachel, your roommate needed a work-out buddy. Someone to motivate her to continue to go to the gym, as well. She claimed she wanted to get in shape for all the boys she’d scoped out at the floor meeting for the dorm during the first week of the semester.

“Let’s try the classes!” she suggested, pointing at the schedule on the wall. Step Aerobics, Yoga, Zumba, etc. They sounded alright, and maybe a change to your routine would be good.

So you started with the step aerobics class. You didn’t last long. You were breathing hard, face flushed and dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in your ears, harder than the beats of music and every step on the hardwood floor and plastic steps.

You took a break, heading to the back of the class to get your water bottle. The back of the room was floor to ceiling windows and doors that faced the main area of the gym where all other equipment was. It took you only a second to realize why you disliked this set up. Everyone in the class, mostly other female students were in a fishbowl, on display for all the guys passing by or just blatantly standing at the windows. One guy winked at you and you scowled at him, effectively directing his eyes elsewhere.

What was so sexy about a sweaty step aerobics class? You thought to yourself as you turned to look at Rachel, killing it on the routine.

Oh, the butts, getting toned by the steps...Ugh!

You left after that, picking a leg press machine instead.

“Hey! Why you’d you leave?” Rachel asked after the class was over.

“Did you not see all the guys window shopping?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a number or two,” Rachel giggled, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. You laughed as you got off the machine, offering it to your friend. She sat down and lowered the weight, significantly.

“I don’t come here to pick up guys.”

“You could if you wanted to,” she said, exhaling on the release. You just rolled your eyes. You told yourself it was because you didn’t have time for a man but really, how could you possibly expect to attract the interest of some jock? The guy that winked at you doesn’t count. He was disqualified the moment he decided to drool over a step aerobics class rather than work out. Your standards weren’t that low, seriously…

You and Rachel tried out a few more machines in the circuit, trying your own hands at strength training. But you realized quickly that you’d left the quieter space of the cardio equipment, too close to the weight lifting benches. Young men of all sizes were pushing themselves to the brink, breathing hard, grunting, exhaling, chanting, and egging each other on.

“Come on, Sam, you can do it! Just two more!” You knew that voice. Everyone on your floor knew Steve Rogers, quarterback, certified hunk and sweetheart. Or at least that’s what you had heard.

“He can’t do it.”

“Shut up, Buck!” a football player shouted as he pushed himself.

Too much testosterone. Intense. Stressful. Intimidating. That’s not what you wanted out of going to the gym. Quite the opposite really.

As you two left the gym, you made a mental note to avoid that area again.

-

The next class you attended was Zumba and not only did you keep up with it but you enjoyed it! The music was awesome and the choreography wasn’t too difficult. You could totally see yourself doing this again. But of course, boys… not men… boys…they ruin all the fun.

If step aerobics could catch the attention of onlookers, then zumba was like blood in the water for sharks.

Then again, you did feel sexy, swaying your hips, waving your hands, rolling your body. You decided to put the spectators out of your mind, losing yourself to a Shakira song.

When you left the class, having stayed for the entire thing and deciding to return tomorrow, you felt so good, so confident, that you didn’t care about who was looking. You were just in Nike leggings and a tie-dye shirt, hair up in a messy bun, nothing special, but you felt great.

“Hey, Rach!” someone called out for your friend, inviting her back over to the weight lifting area. The guy who called out for her looked familiar, someone that was likely found hanging out with Steve Rogers.

“Hey Sam,” she greeted him. You stayed by her side, holding onto that Zumba confidence with a steely grip.

You didn’t really listen to what happened between your friend and the football player. You saw Steve a few feet away with another friend. The man was on his back, legs bent and giant dumbbell weights in each hand. Your eyes went wide as you watched him push them up and hold them there. The way his arms were bulging in that gray t-shirt, he was straining himself and you were tempted to tell him to be careful.

“Give me one more!” Steve encouraged him. His friend winced as that last push was almost too much for him.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, exhaling and grinding his teeth. He pushed those dumbbells into the air once more and even a second time, then put them down with a loud thud as rubber met the concrete floor.

You didn’t have the best view of his face from his position on the ground and your standing position over 6 feet away, but that sound...like a growl, and his bared white teeth against that strong jaw covered in stubble…it’s a sound that stirred something deep in your belly.

He jumped to his feet and did a few quick squats in those black basketball shorts. You averted your eyes from his perfect ass just as he turned around.

You wouldn’t mind if he’d been watching you dance.

-------

“Ah, fuck.”

It’s the same sound that he made now as you sit on top of him, his hips thrusting up. His fingers were digging into your hips and would likely leave a bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were Bucky’s and he was yours. You’d staked your claim with that hickey on his chest just the other night.

“Mmph, fuck, damn it. I love it when you move like that,” he grunted. You rolled your hips, earning another moan from his lips before you leaned forward and pressed your chest to his, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you and pinned you to him as he sat up and rolled over. The grunts and squeaks coming from the two of you as Bucky repositioned himself on top were ridiculous.

“Quit giggling,” he half-laughed. “M’gonna pull a muscle in this bed, I swear.” Your head hit the pillow with a ‘oof’ and another giggle. “Dammit, babe, you make it hard to fuck you when you sound that cute.”

“Then don’t fuck me…” Bucky’s hips froze, his cock buried deep inside you. His sharp features softened with outright confusion and a slight insecurity. You reached up to caress the side of his face, the stubble on his cheek itching your palm. “Make love to me.” Bucky released a heavy sigh, rolled his eyes and collapsed on top of you.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Doll,” he whispered into your hair, using your new favorite pet name. His slow thrusts picked up again while he kept his face next to yours. You held onto him for dear life as the tension inside you continued to build until your arched back signaled your release. Bucky kept pumping until the lasting effects of your orgasm sent him over the edge. Rather than stopping completely, he slowed down until the only movement was a twitch of pleasure every now and then. “Oh my god,” he whispered, peppering kisses on your shoulder. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“I’m sorry, darlin, are you turning down a free meal? Is it the company? Do you just use me for my body?” Bucky climbed off of you but you reached out for him; He stumbled as he fully ejected himself from the bed.

“Nonono, that’s not what I said!” you said, as you continued to laugh. “I’m just wondering...if that’s your way of paying me for my services,” you wiggled your eyebrows, a hint at your teasing. Bucky snapped a finger and pointed at you, putting on his own mock serious face.

“Hooker, I’m taking you to dinner because I want to.” Having cleaned himself up, Bucky tugged on his basketball shorts and a t-shirt he’d left in your dorm room the other day. The boy considered your floor his own personal closet. “We’ve stayed in, ordered food and watched movies and you’ve even helped me with my papers. You deserve to go out to an actual restaurant.”

“Okay, well, we should probably shower before we go out.”

“Oh, I agree but I can’t share that shower with you. It was too dangerous the first time. Never again.”

You picked up your towel and toiletries as Bucky sat in a bean bag chair on your floor. You tapped him on the nose.

“Never say never, Buck,” you said with a wink.

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

Tagging: @abbessolute​ @book-loving--anime-chick​ @faithtrustandpixiedust95​ @fabinapercabeth4179​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @autoblocked​ @therealcap​ @mathle0matle​ @whoopxd​ @bookworm4ever99​ @geeksareunique​ @bucky-plums-barnes​ @pottxrwolff​ @ravenhaviland​ @melaninspice11​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @fvckingavengers​ @officialcaptain-marvel​ @sebbytrash​

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Day 14: The Last Day

Hi guys! Here she is! The last of our quarantine fic as the world is opening up, whether it should or not. It’s short, but felt complete! Huge thanks to everyone who read and reblogged! A huge thanks for @dirtystyles and @emulateharry for the read throughs and cheerleading! I am sure there will be other little odds and ends-

Harry’s POV maybe...

Day 14: The One With The Loss

"Where the f ..." Elise felt frantic, she could not find her bracelet. Her grandmother had given it to her. She didn't care at this point if she had to leave everything else behind, but she couldn't leave that.

She'd been incredibly close to her grandma Rose. On Some hard days, Elsie would have said she was the only one who ever really loved her. When she was dying Elise had gone to the hospital as much as possible to sit with her, at first to play cards, and then to hold her hand, and finally to curl up next to her and cry. When grandma was still able to talk she'd told her to go in her jewelry box, the one that was packed from her room at the assisted living facility and find her opal bracelet.

They shared an October 21st birthday. Grandma Rose said she'd had the bracelet since her sweet sixteen. Elise was a little older than that when she got it, but the bracelet was priceless and irreplaceable at this point. Her random t shirts and even her books could stay, but not her bracelet.

She'd been packing for a couple hours at this point. She wasn't aware she had this much stuff, or that it was so spread out. She'd been pretty unemotional through the whole process, until she couldn't find her bracelet. Elise might have been crying inside before then, but she was really freaking out now.

It was the first time she had cried since the talk with Harry.

"Is that what you're so scared of?" He'd said.

She'd scoffed. That got her back up. "I'm not scared of anything."

"Are you kidding me?" He actually laughed at her. "You're scared of everything!"

"Fuck you Harry! You don't know how I feel."

"Of course I don't. It might actually kill you to talk about your feelings or be honest." His hands were crossed over his chest.

"Honest, feelings? Cuz you are the king of talking about real shit?" Her hands came off her hips and she was pointing. "All we do is play, or fuck. You may actually be a lost boy."

"I'm just trying to read your comfort level, love. That seems to be the depth of life you're willing to deal in. Gotta keep it light for poor Elise, or she will run away. I'm dont even know why I bother." He sighed. "If you liked spending time with me at all, without being entertained all the time, I would not have to lure you out of your room every damn day with some promise of food or comfort or sex. It's so damn hard to know you."

"How dare you!" She seethed. He'd insinuated she was shallow right? That's what that bullshit about depth implied. "I am not shallow. Or a damn child who needs to be bribed. Maybe if I had any idea what I was doing here, or why you were being so nice to me, I'd not be so damn afraid I'd need to hide. I don't know you either, and your intentions are even more obscure."

"What you're doing here? I was just trying to make sure you were ok, or safe. Take care of you. If you were unwell it would be my fault."

"Cmon Harry, we both know you could have got us tests and sent me packing ages ago. What little fantasy are we living out here?"

"Yours!" He shouted.

And the conversation got more intense from there.

"Where could I have?" Elise's cheeks were wet; she was nauseous. This day had already been too much. She'd just got her head in her palms to weep when strong hands came onto her shoulders.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Harry asked into her black hair before kissing it.

"I can't find my grandma's bracelet anywhere. She gave it to me when they told her she was running out of time." She turned a watery frown on him and he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Ok, well tell me what it looks like and I'll help you."

Elise described the delicate piece and they each set off to look. She was essentially tossing things out of her way adding to the mess. The room had already looked casually like a bomb went off, but she was a mess when she looked for things. She did notice Harry was orderly in his disarray.

"When'd you wear it last?"

"I don't wear it. I'm too afraid I'll break it." She told him, and he chuckled.

"If you say something about patterns or bad habits I will cut you." She mentioned.

He put his hands up in surrender. And they both laughed.

He had a point.

Elise was thinking about how their fight the night before had gone when Harry said. "Is this it?"

"Oh my god." Tears filled her eyes anew and ran down her cheeks. "Thank you! What would I do without you?" It was an honest question. It had only been fourteen days but she honestly couldn't imagine not knowing him, really knowing him, not about him, or speculating about him, or inferring about him, or projecting about him. Knowing him, underneath his clothes, under his skin.

"No need to find out!" He smoothed her hair and then gave her a smooch. "Now, can you grab whatever you need so we can pretend we hate that we have to be locked in a house together for an undefined time."

She giggled. "You don't hate that you are stuck in your house with me for who knows how long?"

"Are you going to let me turn up the heater and stay naked?" He picked up one of the boxes she'd put together.

"Not all of the time."

"Then some of the time?" He curled his tongue and poked it to the side of his mouth.

How was she supposed to say no to that. "Maybe."

"Then hurry." Kiss. "Up." Kiss. " we need to go play strip scrabble."

"Im not playing scrabble with you." She said for the umpteenth time.

"Strip monopoly?"

"No."

"Apples to apples?"

"How the hell.." she just laughed at his hugely dimpled smile. "How about we just go in your hot tub and drink margaritas naked."

"Deal!" He started tossing clothes wildly into bags. It was out of character except for his insatibility. "Hurry up! We have plans!"

"To have sex?" God he was sooo cute. "More sex." She clarified.

"Yea, aren't those very important?" He stepped into her space and planted his hands on her hips and his flag in her heart. He'd leaned in close, but didn't connect their lips.

She gulped and leaned up against his arms keeping her feet planted and away from his tempting lips. "Yes, very important."

"Yeah." He said and kissed her silly.

She'd never done it on that bed. Seemed funny to do it after it had been stripped and with the knowledge it would never happen again.

It could have went another way. Elise kept catching herself in moments and feeling grateful, that once Harry started talking, he really started talking.

The day before, when he shouted the truth about living out her own fantasy, she'd started to walk away. She couldn't handle the truth. It was at least half true, it was a wonderful two weeks of her life, and it looked like now it was over. Elise knew she couldn't handle going back to his place and fighting more, or worse facing silent treatment. Plus, if he had wanted her there, he still hadn't said that today or before. She was about to cross the threshold of the room. Harry muttered something about her walking away.

She stopped and turned. She only had to walk away if she wanted to be done.

"This has been a fantasy, of course it has. Like a dream come true. And I'm really scared. I have no idea why I'm here, not really, or what we are doing, or what..." she sucked in some oxygen. "Or what." She felt tears building in her eyes. "How you feel about me." She expected him to say something, but instead he just stood and stared at her, waiting for her to talk. "And what happens tomorrow."

"What?" It was the first thing he'd said during her rant.

"We' re almost done with friends." She whispered.

He was nodding. "We are. so?"

"You said." She swallowed. "Last week you said we should finish Friends, the you said we only had three more days to finish."

He was nodding. "I guess I did, but Elise, the end of friends, it doesn't mean the end of us. And I'll answer all the questions you have. If you want the answers. But, I'll be honest and say I have no idea how you feel about me, like the real me, too. It's why I held back so long."

"So long? It's only been two weeks."

"Pretty intense two weeks." He wiped her tears. "It felt like forever. I wanted to love you up by day five."

She giggled. "Me too."

"Ugh." He groaned. "All that missed opportunity." But they were both smiling. "New challenge: make up for lost time now."

She was shaking her head at his ridiculous eyebrows. "So, you like me?" She asked.

"At the risk of being really obvious, I like you, like really like you, maybe could be more." He tilted her chin up. "and you like me? Me me?"

Elise nodded then thought she had already been this brave. "More than like, I think."

He beamed. "Honestly Elise, when I first brought you home it was out of guilt and because it didn't initially occur to me to just get tests." He looked down. "I had Jeff do research, and we had to wait a few days, and by then, well, I really liked spending time with you."

"Me too." All these confession made her feel like a feather.

"And nothing happens tomorrow. It's not some scary end date, I'm not kicking you out at check out time." He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "Honestly? I'd really like it if you stayed with me, for however long this lasts. We've already been exposed to each other.."

"You think?"

"Very exposed to each other." He laughed with her. "And then after, whenever that is. We talk about it. You can keep your place, or save the money."

"I could pay for groceries."

He sighed. "Ok, you can pay for groceries." He quirked a brow and the dimples that bracketed his mouth wanted to break free, they just needed her response. "Does that mean you'll stay?"

"I'll stay." The full wattage of his smile was really like A full moon on a clear night. He bridged the space between them and swooped her into his arms.

"Good, I'd miss you if you were gone."

"I'd miss you if I was gone too." She was honest, hopefully it would become a new habit.

"Then let's not let that happen." He kissed her then, and it was a piece of this tiny instance of forever she'd keep always, if they wound up married fifty years or broke up by pandemic's end.

"Can I tell you something really crazy?"!She asked with her ear pressed to his heart. She felt his body nod on her head. "I'm so glad you sneezed in my face."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I could do it again?" He offered, his body vibrating with his laugh.

"I'm good now thanks. But, I'm still glad it happened."

"Me too baby, me too."

[coasttocoastreads]

Welcome back to Week 2 of Coast to Coast Reads! Who’s still alive? Katya and I are dying while social distancing, but at least we had a few laughs discussing this book:

Crescent City (House of Blood and Earth) // Sarah J Maas

★★ / ★★★★★

Summary in one two gif(s):

Real Summary:

Crescent City, a place where vanir (supernatural beings such as angels, fae, shifters, etc.) and humans freely mingle and go about their days. Bryce Quilan is a 20-something fae/human who’s still reeling from the murder of her friends 2 years ago. But after she’s commissioned to help search for an ancient artifact, Bryce, along with her new angel partner Hunt, unearth previously buried secrets about the murder that threaten to expose a worldwide conspiracy. 

Pros:

Great side characters. I would die for each and every one of them.

Lots of different mythological creatures! Not just another Fae Book™️

Cons:

It’s literally ToG 2-7 combined. If you read Throne of Glass, you’ve already been spoiled for this book. 💀💀💀

It’s wayyyy too long

Drags a lot in the beginning

Plot .5/5 (the .5 is for you, Lehaba)

What can I say. SJM literally plagiarized herself by taking the plotline of the tog books and translating it to this new setting. The writing itself was subpar, and most of the time it felt like the author herself had no idea where the plot was going, instead letting it drag on until a plot twist that makes no sense is revealed. (You’ll know which one I’m talking about when you get there.) I’ll compare CC with ToG with spoilers under the cut. 

Pacing 2/5

The beginning is full of info-dumping as SJM tries to set up this world which is metaphorically like ours, but everyone’s hot and does fantasy cocaine all the time.  It narrates boring day-to-day schedules that could have been condensed into a paragraph and at times I was tempted to skip ahead. The plot does pick up near the last 25% though, so I’ll give it that. 

Worldbuilding 2.5/5

It was confusing. To be fair, after all the info was dumped at the beginning, I didn’t bother going back to try to figure things out when they popped up again after. But like still??? I think I only started understanding the hierarchy of the government with the Asterrii(?). Also what are the Triarii I am still lost. SJM attempts to blend a more modern society with one of fantasy creatures, and for the most part it succeeds, but it often just feels...strange. I think the one thing I’m most hung up about is why swords and guns still coexist. Like ??????? it’s one or the other plssssss abandon the “aesthetic” Also while they literally have cell phones and keurig machines there aren’t common things like cars? Why.

Characters: (This is unconventional, bear with me)

Main Characters: -infinity/5 they could go die for all I care

Bryce and Hunt were both super unlikeable, 10/10 would let fall from a cliff. They are literally just rewrites of Aelin and Rowan? Bryce is like ahahaha yeah people think I’m Just a dumb vapid Female™️ who parties too much and gets trashed but SIKE I’m actually the chosen one and I’ve been hiding it this whole time because I didn’t want to hurt people’s feelings uwu. And did I mention I’m actually a trained Warrior who can keep up with The Boys? It’s Aelin y’all. There are numerous times where a character says that she’s not stupid and I’m like...are you sure... This girl makes the poorest decisions, yet ofc, there aren’t any long term consequences... (Also 99% of her problems come from ghosting people literally just respond with “k” sis)

Hunt is... idek what to say about Hunt. He’s just Rowan but in angel form. His inner monologue cycles between I must pay off my debt so I can gain Freedom 😔, why is Bryce so hot 🥴, and Shahar 😭. Once again, literally Rowan who also was bound to some evil villain, had the hots for their CENTURIES YOUNGER pupil/protectee, and had an old lover die tragically which led to them believing they can never find love again UNTIL BryLin comes along. Snooze. 

Side Characters: Infinity/5 

Ruhn Danaan was the most valid character and that’s the hill I’ll die on. He literally just wanted to protect his sister cuz she’s stupid af but she keeps pushing him away bc he’s an “alphahole” (haha how subversive :/) I want a whole book about him and Hypaxia, preferably fanfiction so I don’t have to read “soft feminine breathing” ever again.

Literally all the supporting cast- Lehaba, Therion, Ithan, Jesiba, Flynn, Connor, etc, etc. had more compelling characters and side stories than Bryce/Hunt. I was 100% more invested in them and I can’t wait to read/write more about them. 

(Pls let me marry Jesiba Roga or Therion 🥺)

But while the people on the “good” side were spectacular, the villains all felt one-dimensional and the product of over-recycled and overused tropes mashed together. Sandriel and Pollux are literally just Maeve and Cairn (is that his name)

I’d recommend for:

People who loved Throne of Glass and are lamenting the absence of new content. Please read about Rowaelin 2.0

People stuck at home during this global crisis and have too much time on their hands. (If you need that free epub, hmu)

People who are willing to skip all scenes that feature just Bryce and/or Hunt 

People who hate themselves

Would I travel here?

Sorry, what? Already shredded my passport, not getting a replacement, sorry. 

Overall thoughts:

I wish I could somehow take those hours of my life back but alas. 

See y’all in two weeks with a hopefully better book selection,

Tiff

Spoilers under cut

Okay time to VENT

OKAY so CC=ToG, let’s break down how

Danika’s death is the Nehemia Incident, setting the mc up for a journey of self discovery/reclaiming their power. They both show up as ghosts later to encourage mc in a time of great self-struggle.

Syrinx if Fleetfoot. bc all female mc’s need a pet to reveal her Feminine and Soft side

Sandriel and Pollux are Maeve and Cairn. Evil female character with vast power and her torturer? COOKIE CUTTER FORMULA. The scene where Bryce offers herself up for Hunt in the lobby also kinda mirrors that scene in..HoF? QoS? Don’t remember, but pretty sure that happened. Also that scene was so fucking dumb, I really thought Bryce had a Smart Plan, but I was bamboozled once again. 

A gem from my notes: “Bryce is Aelin but with cocaine”

I think the whole demon portal thing is a ripoff of ACOWAR (or is it KoA I can’t even remember), sacrificing yourself to close the rift, etc, etc. 

Anyways, Bryce = Aelin, a party-girl front with a sob backstory that’s her superpower origin story who always has a Plan. 

Hunt = Rowan, broody warrior busy repaying debts getting orders they don’t want while pining over a lost love. They reluctantly let the female mc in and voila they’re in LOVE

The whole “plot twist” that revealed Hunt’s true plan along was so fucking dumb...

It wasn’t a plot twist, it was just plain bad writing

There was no set up at all, nothing alluding to Hunt secretly masterminding an attempted coup with the help of Magic Meth

The whole time I was like “...this is part of their plan right. There’s no way he legit planned this...”

Character’s POVs should reveal what they’re thinking, even if you’re just hinting at something to reveal later...this was just lazy

Another thing that really rubbed me the wrong way was the sudden reveal that Fury and Juniper had been in a relationship the whole time? Despite like above, there was no prior allusion to that?

It felt like half-assed representation at best and completely irrelevant to the story with it coming up again in a throwaway line near the end

Also? I’m fairly certain there was a scene in the beginning where they were all out clubbing and Juniper hooked up with some rando while Fury was also at the club with them? Was this before they got together or did SJM insert this so last minute that no one caught it?

Wtf is sunball. Can someone just help me out here.

Some people have been saying Hunt is Asian coded? Where???!!!!! All I’m seeing is the same stuff she pulled in ACOTAR where all the Illyrians were tan so people could claim they were poc for woke points but not get in trouble for art depicting them as white ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SJM pls stay away from “like calls to like” you don’t deserve it

[megajungshook]

Jimin x hybrid smut

Jimin sighs, walking home from a long day at work just to begin cleaning. He was always a mature man, never being sexist or racist. Maybe that's because his girlfriend was a hybrid. He sighs, finishing up cleaning the living room and beginning to walk to his room to clean; but first... "Babe!" He calls out, getting into the bedroom and going to his closet. He was rich. But not spoiled. He knew that his money was a fair decency, not something to brag about, but being proud was allowed. He always wanted to work as a businessman, and here he was! Starting a family business (hopefully) that produces clothing, perfumes, and other beauty products. Yes. Beauty products. Don't ask. "Baby, come here!" he yells out,  taking off his shirt.

Y/N had been curled up on the couch asleep for a while but as soon as she heard Jimin call her she hopped up and ran to their room " yes Jiminie?" she walked over to him biting her lip at the sight of him without a shirt.

"Did you do anything today, baby?" He asks, taking off his pants and looking at her. "Or, better yet, did you miss me?" he eyebrow bumps, standing in his underwear. His form was... a bit depressed. He was a bit tired, that's it. He wasn't sad. At least, that's what his therapist said. "Sorry for being gone all day." It was 7 at night. He had left for work at 5 in the morning. All. Day. And he still had work to do! He had to do the dishes, clean the kitchen, his room needed to be cleaned... The sheets were probably stained. Ah, right... Stained. Fuck... And food! He had to get groceries tomorrow. Fucking hell...He sighs from all that's going through his head but doesn't let it show, keeping a kind smile on his face as he opens his arms for a hug. "Sorry." he repeats. He always means his apologies. He was a man who would speak his mind in as polite of a manner as possible.

" it's okay, and I did miss you a lot" she hugs him nuzzling against his chest purring.

"I missed you too." He pets her head softly. Not in a pet manner, though. "I love you." He laughs and pulls away after a bit. "I should get dressed."

she kinda pouts " I guess"

"You guess? Baby..?" He chuckles. "You want me to stay like this?"

she nods " yes please"

"Ah.." He laughs. "What if we have guests? There's always the chance that I have business partners over.." He doesn't. Today he was clear, aside from paperwork. "..I'll make a deal with you. I'll stay like this, if you stay in your undergarments as well."

" deal" she pulls off her shirt and jeans smirking a little cuz consistently she was wearing her black lace lingerie.

Jimin looks her up and down and licks his lips. "A deal's a deal, then." so he closes his closet and walks to the bed, sitting on it in his professional manner and patting his lap. "Come here, babygirl.." he's not quite... trying to be seductive... but it... definitely comes out as seductive.

" yes daddy" she walks over and sits in his lap leaning against his chest nuzzling against his neck ears going down as she purrs.

He hums softly but deeply, feeling the wetness on his legs and then pulling her up on him before falling back with her. "God, babygirl..." he closes his eyes before sighing and speaking: "So, remember the mess we made... when was it? The week before last?" He thinks about it before nodding and opening his eyes. "I was planning on cleaning it tonight... Guess we're just making it worse." He chuckles and slowly brings his hands down to her underwear, slowly sliding them down, but not off.  He was respectful, and he clearly wants to do this. Just depends on if she wants to. "Babe, are you okay with that?"

"mhm , of course daddy" she nods.

His breath hitches a bit as he slides off her underwear and sits her back down on his thighs, sitting up again but shuffling the two of them to where they were against the wall. "God, you're soaked.." he comments, bringing her own hand down to feel. "Is this all for daddy?" he looks into her eyes, lust slowly but surely taking over. He was too respectful for his own good, if you asked me. He so very clearly wanted to fuck her, feel her closing around his dick... but he wouldn't unless he got permission.

" yes , it's all yours daddy" she smirks.

"All mine?" He asks, tilting his head. You can feel the bulge underneath you. "Are you sure, babygirl?"

“Yes daddy, all of it belongs to you”she bites her lip.

"Fuck.." He whispers, gripping her hips tightly. "Baby, I'm trying to control myself. You're not really helping."

“ don’t control yourself then don’t hold back” she whispers back moaning softly.

He groans a bit before fuck it omega happens and he's flipping them to where he's on top of her and begins kissing her and stripping her.

She yelps a bit kissing him back tracing his abs down to his bulge before squeezing him softly.

He moans into the kiss and then breaks it, moving down her body and leaving a trail of hickeys whilst doing so.

She moans arching her back a bit biting her lip.

"God, baby, you're so tempting.." he whispered seductively.

She smirking she squeezes his bulge again a little bit harder this time.

"Fuck!" He moans out, throwing his head back and then beginning to take his boxers off.

She licks her lips watching.

he throws them somewhere and his politeness takes over as he slowly enters her.

She moans arching her back a bit more.

"Is it alright?" he asks a little concerned.

she looks up at him a bit annoyed “ Jimin, I’m fine it’s okay just please fuck me”

"Okay, then." And he begins slamming into her.

She moans squeezing her eyes shut ears going down throwing her head back.

He chuckles and combs his hand through her hair, gently tugging.

she moans shakally gripping the sheets.

Jimin repeats the action before bringing his lips down to kiss her.

she moans kissing him back gripping his hair.

He hums and allows his movements to slow as he focuses on the kiss.

she runs her tongue over his bottom lip before biting softly.

He groans softly.

she runs her tongue over his lip again biting a bit harder.

He pulls away with a hiss, looking into her eyes. "Baby, don't do that. As much as I love it, the business would wonder why my lips are swollen."

" okay daddy" she pouts.

"I'm sorry babygirl." He pecks her lips before going as hard as before.

she moans gripping the sheets again eyes rolling a bit.

He moans as well, mostly from the view. "God, I love you."

"I-I love you t-too daddy~" she moan ears going down as she squeezes her eyes shut.

"Fuck.." He whispers, taking that last little risk to go as fast as he could.

she throws her head back arching her back gripping the sheets harder moaning loudly.

He proceeds, biting his lip because god damn. "You're so sexy, babygirl.."

she bites her lip eyes rolling moaning.

his lip bite deepens.

she moans loudly as she cums gripping the sheets even tighter.

He proceeds to fuck her as hard as he had at first, going a bit softer so he doesn't hurt her and then pulling out to cum.

She lays there panting tongue sticking out a bit ears laid down.

He chuckles and hugs up to her, closing his eyes.

she cuddles him back purring softly.

He hums softly, petting her head. "Love you~"

"I love you too Jiminie" purring a bit louder nuzzling his chest.

He chuckles. "Whelp, I gotta work babe." He moves to get up.

she pouts" okay"

"I'm sorry, babygirl." He stands and then moves to get on pajamas. "But I'll sleep with you tonight."

she nods yeets on one of his t shirts smiling "okay, Jiminie"

Jimin nods and sighs before walking to his nice little office space across the room and working.

she sits on the bed for bit before sighing " daddy can I please sit in your lap please~"

He looks at her and hums, pushing his chair back and patting his thigh whilst doing a paperwork.

she smiles and goes and sits in his lap" thank you, Jiminie"

"Mhm." He nods and fills out another paperwork, sighing tiredly. 

" why don't you go to bed or a least rest a bit" she kisses his cheek.

"I got to finish this."

“ okay Jiminie” she nuzzles against his neck.

He nods and proceeds filling out a paper, taking a while and when he finishes he pats her head. "Let's go, baby. I'm," he yawns and chuckles, "tired"

She giggles getting up and goes and lays down on the bed.

he goes and lays next her cuddling her.

she cuddles him back and after a bit they both fall asleep.

[lcyalty]

i don’t feel like making a joke to break the ice so here’s one of my favorite tiktoks: https://vm.tiktok.com/s1rSS5/ . anyways, hiii, fed admin sabrina here :) time to check off the introductory personality checklist: i’m 20, a leo, a slytherin, a woc, a pre-law major on the east coast, uhhhh harry styles and marvel trash, i play over 10 instruments, i prefer the thigh over the chicken breast, and i’m really happy u all r here and joined my little creation :’) smack that read more to learn abt my children daisy moretti and jude valentine so we can plot !!

                                                             DAISY MORETTI.                                                  pinterest: https://pin.it/7unKPi8                                                                     the basics: full name: daisy mia moretti | hometown: the bronx, new york | zodiac: aries | orientation: bisexual | employment status: intern on the news broadcasts floor | positive traits: social, determined, hardworking, attentive, confident, smart | negative traits: rude, irresponsible, cunning, cutthroat, insensitive, selfish

the backstory:

here’s the best way i can describe daisy: take the love for fashion and luxury of carrie bradshaw and cher horowitz, mix it with the power and intensity of olivia pope, and add in all the meanness of every single rude, b*tchy person you can think of. that’s her.

daisy was born to a huge italian family who all had odd jobs; her dad specialized in fixing the batteries on smoke detectors. her mom ran the laundromat down the street. a lot of her uncles owned car detailing businesses and she had a couple of older cousins who were janitors or low-level staff members at the local middle schools. while her family was fine with this, because hey, it paid the bills, daisy, who had always had expensive tastes from the start, turned her nose at it all.

she, unsurprisingly, became the first in her family to make it past high school. daisy did absolutely every major, resume-boosting thing while she was in school, because she learned very quickly that she liked power and being better than others. there was something she loved about coming home from school and getting to brag about her debate team win while her cousins could only nod. 

she was great at school, and she made sure everyone knew. she did mock trial, debate, sga -- she even joined the environmental club just for the clout. and then one of the people in her model un group said she should run for president one day.

it made sense. daisy likes power, she likes bossing people around and always being right, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. she’d be a fantastic fucking president. so, naturally, after finishing college and pushing through an internship she didn’t really like just so she could have another bullet point on her resume, daisy applied for an internship at masters international. she knew she’d get the gig, obviously.

daisy loves fashion and luxury. she spends majority of her money on vintage chanel tweed matching sets to wear into the office, she has red bottoms that give her four extra inches of height, and her foundation costs over a hundred dollars. you’d think she’d want to be on the floors that deal with vogue and help organize new york fashion week, but that’s not going to get her a presidency, duh. daisy interns on the floors that handle the news broadcasts so she gets firsthand knowledge on all the shit, political or otherwise, that goes down in the country.

i would love to type more but i don’t want to hint at anything that points to her secret, so i’m going to explain a little more about daisy’s personality

she’s so, so controlling and bossy. she wants to be the absolute best at everything, and the shining star of it all. daisy’s definitely an attention hog, and she’ll bust her ass on her work to make sure she’s better than everyone else on the floor with her. 

daisy’s very picky about who she hangs out with. as a future presidential candidate, optics are very important, obviously. she only surrounds herself with people she deems to be good for her image, and she’ll gladly let you know that she thinks you’re too shitty to be around. she cares a lot about how she appears to other people, you know.

daisy is selfish and rude, and truly doesn’t care if she hurts someone’s feelings. she speaks her mind and has absolutely no filter -- which gets her into a lot of trouble, i’m sure you can imagine. 

wanted connections:

enemies: if you need a bad guy or work rival in your character’s life, i wholly volunteer miss daisy moretti as that bad guy. it’s not hard for her to make enemies when you consider her personality.

ex: please please give me an angsty ex plot filled with depth and all the details. there’s gotta’ be a reason why daisy wants to be not only the first female president, but also the first president without a spouse, after all.

hookups: listen. she has needs.

                                                            JUDE VALENTINE.                                                   pinterest: https://pin.it/1dfK9dE                                                                 the basics: full name: jude lee valentine | hometown: tuscaloosa, alabama | zodiac: gemini | orientation: heterosexual | employment status: corporate attorney for masters international | positive traits: friendly, warm, sociable, extroverted, smart, witty, energetic | negative traits: compulsive, secretive, disloyal, impulsive, ignorant, desensitized

the backstory:

picture it with me: a ranch. nice pale green shutters and a huge yard. there’s cows in this picture, too, and horses. there might even be goats. there’s a tractor by the two ford trucks, a dog sleeping on the porch, and not another house for another twenty minute drive. this is what jude valentine is used to. he’s a country boy from alabama, equipped with the southern accent and everything. yes, he has a pair of cowboy boots. yes, he brought them to new york with him. yes, he pronounces creek as ‘crick’.

jude is a very sweet boy. he was quarterback in high school, got good grades, and every sunday he went to church with his family because Bible Belt things. homeboy is named after a book in the Bible. he’s all about southern manners and hospitality, about treating people kindly and always putting others first, and he always keeps his morals in check. or, he used to.

when you’re home it’s hard to stray away from what you’re used to. the same held true for jude in college, because even though he went to u of alabama (can you hear him yelling roll tide), he was still in his home state so he felt those morals still stuck with him. but then he applied for law school and got a full ride to nyu law, and whew, the Temptation

‘cuz you see, jude was always a sweetie pie. he still is! in high school he was super popular because he was tall and cute and athletic but funny and brought extra biscuits from home to hand out in homeroom. i’m not gonna lie, he’s charming af. he’s smooth and he has good jokes. the girls loved him but the little sh*t had a purity ring.

but then he got to nyc for law school and let me tell you. alabama is not close at all to manhattan, now is it. jude was fine the first couple of weeks, just worked on his case briefs in his shoe box of a starter apartment... but the women. homeboy started sleeping around a LOT after a while. y’know wet dreamz by j cole where he’s like haven’t been inside p*ssy since i came out one? yeah, that was jude until ny, and he’s very much still like that

is jude still the sweetest, nicest guy ever? yes. is jude still the type of guy to knock on your office door and ask if you want to walk to get coffee with him even though you guys have probably never met? yes. is jude the first guy on the dance floor when there’s a midnight party on the rooftop? yes. is jude the type of guy who’ll fuck with you and say no, he only listens to music made by a spoon and a blade of grass if you think he only listens to country music? yes. but he also has slept with at least twenty different interns and employees at the office, so.

he also dabbles in the occasional little pill when he’s got eight depositions to write up before tomorrow but he was too busy screwing some chick the night before. he first did this in law school. but we don’t worry about that.

stop it, i know what you’re thinking: sabrina, come on. so he sleeps around, okay. what’s the big deal about that?

here’s the big deal: he’s engaged.

lil (i say lil but he’s 6’3” while i’m only 5’0”, so lemme stfu) cupcake jude is a cheater. he’s got a whole fiancée and yet he still sleeps with other women, and each time he’s like no, okay, that was the last time for real, but then there’s a new intern at the office and the higher ups always throw the new people at him because he knows how to make people feel comfortable, and his country accent is cute and refreshing among all the new york bs, and the whole attorney thing certainly isn’t a negative, and, well. he gets tempted. and afterwards he always tells the girl okay, please, can this stay between us.

u wouldn’t know he’s engaged either bc it’s not like he’s wearing the engagement ring, now is he

i’m staying hush on daisy’s secret but jude’s is that he’s cheating on his significant other with people in the office. is he still a nice guy? heck yeah, but also, you have to be a certain kind of messed up to keep cheating on your s/o and just not tell them. that’s a lotttt of lying you’re just comfortable with. oh, what’s that? you’re threatening to tell his fiancée that you two slept together because you think she deserves to know? well. he’d hate having to do it, but... jude’s not above knocking someone down if it means his secret stays hidden.

wanted connections:

hookups: literally i will take as many hookup plots i can get. doesn’t matter if they’re an intern or an employee; jude will sleep w them and then make them promise not to tell anyone in the office afterwards because “wE’rE nOt sUpPoSeD tO sLeEp wItH cOwOrKeRs” but we all know why he wants to keep it under wraps. this also doesn’t have to be an only connection; he can be friends w someone but also hook up w them on the low too

fiancée: this one is huge for me so pls pls message me if ur seriously interested in this plot and we’ll talk !!

friends: this one is so easy bc jude will literally make conversation with a chair. he’s super sociable and fun and approachable and he loves making friends !! give me some ppl he can pester during lunch break and throw balled up pieces of paper at

best friend: he’s gotta have that one person that he just clicks really, really well with. jude talks to everyone and he’s super friendly but this person is his confidant. he goes to them w almost all of his problems and rants to them and asks for advice and likes to just be around this person. trusts them w his entire life. hmuuuuu :)

ex: listen. we all need a good ex plot and this person is probably the only one in the office jude isn’t bringing a complimentary donut to

sister: jude has a younger sister and honestly she was gonna be a npc but the idea of him looking out for her at the office and getting all (ง•̀_•́)ง when ppl r mean to her is smth i reeeeally like. or maybe they actually don’t get along that well and bicker a lot but there’s still that underlying hey i’ve got your back. you piece of shit. type feel going on !!

[odd-lil-duck]

🌻

I wanna fight a god. I wanna fight another god for my friend cuz he was mad earlier. But I still wanna fight Eros. That bitch. I made the picture I posted earlier my home screen but the main part is my friend/crush while if I go further you see me looking awkward af. I wish he was at school today. His name in my head is thought the same way my choir teachers all said the word triplet. I sang in choir today in front of everyone. My problem with singing isn't being in front of people my problem is not being in front of the words. Which is why I did good. It wasn't for a grade or anything I just wanted to break the streak of Steven Universe songs that seemed to be happening and my friend got mad it was great. MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE IZ BACK CY THE WAY AAAAHHHHHH chickem. I sold a popcorn ball to my friend during choir for a dollar and thought of the meme of homer's eyes saying "Money can be exchanged for goods and services" I'm also tempted to wear skeleton make up more often because last night when I went to shower the head up I was like "mkay yea I look dope af no dysphoria good" and then for some reason looking past my head said "ewww get rid of it all You can't look like that or you dIE pls don't sleep tonight" and I was like "oh this isn't in a dysmorphia way cuz my chest looks wrong in that department by just existing" which is always fun. I'm also getting my very first binder in December ish maybe hopefully before then but still! Can't wait for it! I wanna just not get random bouts of dysphoria. Wearing a dress at school went from "aight cool nice dress" to "why the FUCK am I wearing a dress godpleas no" I ended up tucking my dress into my pants to make it a weird shirt and it kinda helped a bit. Someone called me a guy on Halloween! And I got happy! Which means I really hate being called a girl that much or I'm secretly a trans guy but trans guy feels unlikely. Maybe I'm just nonbinary nonbinary. Idk. She/Her pronouns are starting to feel weird and kinda... Sick? Idk. I wrote an essay for history yesterday and I just wanted it to be turned in and graded but noooo this mofo keeps wanting me to fix it like bitch if all my plot points are there and you can vaguely understand it then it's fine. "Too advanced" fuck you I learned this in 6th grade and got the hang of it in 8th grade let me be. The only thing I changed in that essay was adding a very shitty part explaining the Renaissance as stealthily as possible. Nicholas was a Moth!!! He was cute! And adorable! And I reaalyy like him and oh god I wanna fight Eros rn cuz fM whyyyy we just met like 2 weeks ago ish maybe I don't really like having crushes. Also I need to draw shit fuck fuck my life okay byyyeee

[verkwannie]

Ex-Boy || Wonho

Summary: Wonho x reader where you run into your ex at the auto parts store.

Genre: Floof and a smidge of angst

Requested?: It’s complicated lol

A/N: I wrote this for my new friend @coffeehoneyeyes cuz she’s super sweet and deserves the world. I hope it’s not too awful lol

   “Babe!” You shouted, gradually growing more and more frustrated with your boyfriend who was taking forever to get ready. You were supposed to leave to go to the auto parts store and get a new blower motor for his car. However, with as long as he was taking you’d think he was preparing for fashion week in Paris. At the tail-end of a long sigh, you finally caught sight of him walking into the living room. 

    “Don’t be so dramatic!” He laughs as he walks up to you as you leaned against the back of the couch waiting. He wraps his arms around you and smiles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

    “What took you so long?” You fake whined, all your actual annoyance having been melted away the second he smiled at you. You were too deep, but you knew Wonho would never hurt you so you were okay with it. 

    “It takes a lot of work to look as good for you as you always look for me. It’s not as natural for everyone as it is for you. Now, let’s go!” He tugged your hand as he led you out the door and to the car.

    When you arrived he jumped out of the car excitedly and ran to open up your door for you. You laughed as you asked, “When does that stage of the relationship end?” 

    Wonho chuckled as he closed the door, “I was thinking when I have to start opening them for our kids?” 

    You felt heat rise to your face as you fumbled for a witty comeback but couldn’t come up with one. Instead, you turned on your feet and walked into the store, refusing to look up. You couldn’t see but Wonho smiled to himself as he watched you, wondering how he got so lucky. Finally looking forward again after walking through the doors you stopped dead in your tracks. 

   Wonho stopped behind you and wrapped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “What’s up, babe?” He asked, giving you a quick kiss on your cheek before following your gaze and seeing your ex stood in front of the two of you. He squeezed you a bit tighter and whispered in your ear to ask if you were okay. As you slowly nodded, he grabbed your hand and moved you both to another part of the store. 

   “Do you wanna go somewhere else?” Wonho asked quietly, looking into your eyes carefully. 

   It was tempting, truly, but you didn’t want to let your ex control your life. You were happy with Wonho and if you were being really honest, you wanted to show that off. So you told Wonho that you were fine and when to get the right blower motor for his car, thanking the stars that it wasn’t your ex at the register at the moment. As you told the person at the desk what you needed Wonho wrapped his arms around you again, “It’s kinda hot watching you talk about cars.”

    Laughing, you reached a hand up to rest on his cheek while he was still behind you and looked back at him, “I’m sure, just keep it in your pants, big boy.”

    He looked back at you and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I’ll try.”

    “Can I talk to you?” You suddenly heard, and you peeled your attention away from Wonho to see it was your ex. You slowly looked back to Wonho who let you go and nodded a little, going to pay the man who had just come back. Taking that as a go ahead, your ex pulled you to the same area Wonho had earlier and hesitated for a while before speaking.

    “Why are you with that muscle pig?” He asked, sneering as he glared at the aforementioned ‘muscle pig’.

    “He’s my boyfriend,” you stated simply, wishing for this conversation to end quickly. 

    “Yeah, why? Why would you wanna be with him?”

    Anger swelled within you. Your eyes and nostrils flared slightly as you took a deep breath before answering. “I’m with him because I love him. He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life, not just on the outside. He’s incredibly thoughtful, never fails to remind me that he loves me or that I’m beautiful, he would never hurt me, and certainly wouldn’t pull one of the douchiest moves in the book and break up with me over text.” 

    After you finished your short rant, Wonho walked up behind you and put his arm around your waist, “You ready to go, babe?” 

    “Definitely,” you smiled and didn’t give your ex any further acknowledgment as you turned and left the store.

[gaypasta]

do you want fries with that?

CHAPTER 12

Read on Ao3 Chapter Directory

Stan can’t really say he saw much of Richie the week following their… well, whatever it was. Richie hadn’t mentioned it afterwards, not even in passing, so Stan was left trying to grapple at all the words in his mind to find one that fit his and Richie’s rather odd predicament. See, they had sex - Stan was aware of that much and he couldn’t justify dumbing himself down to call it anything but. The only issue is, that sex is a heavy word, a word which is sexual in nature - obviously - the word sexual literally stems from sex. And that right there is the big, glaring issue. In big glaring, neon letters. They had sex but it wasn’t sexual . It was just messing around. A bit of fun, they had both agreed.

Can sex be non-sexual? Does that even make sense? Well, Stan supposes that nothing really had to be anything. Kissing under an alter is technically the same action as kissing Richie with a belly full of booze - but the context changes its meaning so drastically that Stan’s head spins at the notion that they may even be related at all. So sex - with Richie - his best friend - Richie - was hardly comparable to the romantic throws of passion he had witnessed painted across the big screen of the Aladdin on the occasions that they had managed to sneak into an R-rated movie.

Richie’s lips were sucked into his teeth, barely letting the sharp pants that were being punched out his lungs. His eyes screwed tight and fingers wrapped almost painfully in Stan’s curls - cupping the back of Stan’s head to bring him closer. Stan tried to hold back a groan as Richie panted openly into his mouth - tongue licking at Stan’s lips. Stan entertained the kiss, more hot panting and wanton licking than anything else - but it made Stan’s stomach ache for more. Stan increased the pace of his thrusts, letting a keening groan escape into Richie’s mouth, feeling the way Richie tightened around him. Richie let out a broken curse, voice strained and arched his back into Stan, fucking back onto him with earnest.

Stan thought carefully about the previous week - trying his best to compare the moans and violent reactions of Richie - laid sprawled out on the bed, writhing with Stan’s dick up his ass - with the gentle, almost rose-tinted feminine breaths of passion from one of Bill’s stupid romance movies. Stan found himself grimacing at the thought. They were always fucking terrible. Terrible, but granted Stan with a vague understanding that what he and Richie did was different,  it wasn’t sexual or romantic at all. It was just as they had said, fun.

Stan forcibly shook the train of thought from his head as he focused on work. He overcomplicates things, or so his friends say.

The Diner was no busier than usual, having two or three orders coming through every couple of minutes. The casual steadiness was nice, giving him and his friends enough to keep them busy - or in Richie’s case - out of trouble, without overwhelming them. Beverly and Ben were kept just busy enough to keep them out the front, which Stan is sure that Ben is secretly glad of, getting a chance to talk to Beverly without Beverly skirting out to talk to Bill or Mike - not for any particular reason other than Beverly likes talking to everyone. Although Eddie usually ushers her away when she starts to describe the customers whose lips were wrapped around the forks he was cleaning.

Stan was currently busying himself by writing next week’s rota. Which thankfully, was much simplier now that the kid with the piercings had ‘quit’, since the only part-timers who were employed were all currently working. Although, it did mean that each of them had to pick up an extra night shift a week in his place which admittedly, meant their nightly trips to the Marsh were always on member down, but they managed to adjust alright.

He popped his head out through the red swing-door to catch Beverly, who was organising some notes in the cash register. She was watching Ben with a sort of dopey expression, as he wiped down a fairly clean-looking table near the door. Stan felt as though he was somewhat intruding, as he usually does when he interrupts a conversation - verbal or not. So he coughed, and Beverly turned her smile to his direction.

“Hey, I was meant to catch you earlier - but you were busy talking to Bill.” She said, folding over a wad of twenties and slipping them into the drawer.

“Oh?”

“We’re out of band-aids.” She had this sort of knowing smile tugging at her lips and with great reluctance, Stan sighed.

“Richie tried juggling the vegetable knives again?” Beverly responded with a half laugh and a roll of the eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how he gets himself dressed in the morning, honestly.”

Richie - who had a strange tendency to appear whenever he’s being spoken about -  walked out through the swing door, jostling Stan, who was half in the door, in the process, carrying a plate of pancakes and setting it down in front of a rather unimpressed looking trucker, who barely waited until the plate was set down before stabbing his fork into the food. Stan glanced down at the half a dozen plasters stuck around Richie’s fingertips and he couldn’t help but follow Richie’s hands down to his thighs and - oh my God - Richie was wearing his shorts inside out.

Beverly must have noticed it too and grabbed Stan’s arm and squeezed - don’t say anything - and he didn’t, just held the door open for Richie as he bowed and made his exit at the two. “I think I spoke too soon. How long do you think it’ll be before he spills coffee on his legs?”

Beverly dropped her hand and snorted, shaking her head, “It’s like fifty degrees in here how is he not freezing?”

Stan handed over the clipboard he was holding to Beverly, who began to fill her name into some of the blank spaces of the table. “He’s a nuclear reactor - he never gets cold, he sleeps without a shirt on some nights with the window open. In the Winter. I believe he has advanced brain-rot.”

Beverly paused for a split second, “You have a lot of sleepovers?”

Stan blinked, oh - probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. Not that it’s a big deal, friends have sleepovers all the time - it’s not like he has anything to hide. Well, within reason. “We used to have sleepovers all the time - before we started working here - now between work, school and the marsh I think if I had to look at any of you anymore I would blow my brains out.”

“Hey!” She said it lightly, clearly finding it more amusing than rude.

“We don’t have any classes together. You, Ben and Mike are exempt from my previous statement.”

“Not true, we have Gym together.”

Stan rolled his eyes as he took the clipboard she presented back to him, “Yes, we converse so much in Gym, between stopping Richie from pulling Bill’s shorts down, stopping Bill trying to break a Tennis racquet over Richie’s head and shoving Eddie’s aspirator in his mouth every two minutes, I always have plenty of time to stop you for a leisurely chat over the fence.”

She laughed and turned back to the cash drawer, eyes falling straight back to Ben, who was now fiddling about with the jukebox. Stan was tempted to tell him that no, they haven’t got any New Kid on the Block added yet, Ben, but there’s only so many times a man can have that conversation before he loses his mind, so he decides against it and moves back into the kitchen - setting the clipboard on a space beside Bill, who was staring intently at a frying egg.

“Stare at that egg any longer Big Bill and you’ll fertilize it!” Richie barks out, appearing from nowhere as he usually does and poking Bill in the ribs, earning himself a smack in the shoulder from Bill’s spatula.

“Don’t puh-poke me - you know it hu-hurts!” Bill tried to look upset, but Bill was terrible at controlling his face and his mouth twitched a little as he battled a smile.

“It only hurts cuz you’re so skinny.” Richie rubbed his shoulder dramatically.

“No! Your fingers are just b-b-boney.”

“You’re both technically right.” Stan pointed out. Richie scoffed and knocked Bill’s hat to the floor as he moved past Stan, shouldering him as he went past. Stan pulled a face and rubbed his shoulders - even his shoulders were boney.

Bill picked up his hat and set his attention to the clipboard, sending the egg what could only be construed as threatening glances every so often as he all but carved his name into the sheet in his unnecessarily heavy chicken scratch. “Do you th-think I’m too skinny, M-Mike?”

Mike made a nuh-uh type of low noise from the fryers, “You’re a stud, man.”

Bill glowed at the praise, everyone, including Bill himself ignoring the obvious glaring lie. Somewhere from the direction of the fridge Stan heard Richie sing the opening to Scat Man, replacing Scat with Stud. No one made any notice to him, except a small groan from Eddie when Richie starting scatting.

Bill waved the clipboard at Stan, who took it from him and managed to catch a glimpse at the griddle. “You’re burning your egg there, stud.” Bill’s face dropped into a scowl as he spun round and started scraping the blackening egg off of the surface, swearing at it in anger. Stan doesn’t understand how, but anything Bill keeps his eye off seemingly burns in seconds. At first they blamed Richie, thinking he would turn the temperature up when Bill’s back was turned - turns out Bill just has bad luck. This usually meant Bill would just stand and glower at whatever he was frying, tongue stuck up out of his lip in concentration. Richie would say if Bill concentrated that much in Math then maybe he wouldn’t be failing, Bill usually lobbed his spatula at him, wordlessly pulling another from the large pocket of his apron.

Stan moved away, purposely avoiding making eye contact with the black char left on the griddle - it usually burned into his skull until he would go over with a wire scouring pad and scrub it clean - burning his fingers in the process. Whenever Bill sees him moving over to his station after that particular incident, Bill moves his body in front of the griddle, an almost guilty smile on his face, like a child hiding Mommy’s favourite mug behind his back after seeing how far he could drop it before it broke.

He asked Eddie if he wanted to work any nights next week - Eddie was a fifty fifty shot - depending on how he felt. See, there was no cook come evening time, so usually it was just coffee - maybe the odd sweet treat from the display cabinet but there was usually little to do besides cleaning. The prospect didn’t bother Eddie - except the risk of having to touch the dirty coins from a dirty trucker’s hands. He would rant about how many particles of excrement have been discovered to live on coins, and how 99% of one dollar bills have traces of cocaine on them - that means it’s been up someone’s nose guys.

This week, Eddie barely let Stan finish his question before deadlining a hard no. Stan side-stepped a small puddle of bubbles that he has begun to just expect whenever Richie slinks his way over to Eddie, and made his way to the fridge - where he could hear Richie still scatting. Stan groaned into himself, preparing his mind for Richie. He tapped the handle of the fridge six times before opening it, hardly recognising that he had done it.

The cool air of the fridge blushed his cheeks almost immediately, and there Richie was stood, balancing several stacked tins of buttermilk on his finger, wobbling around trying to balance the teetering tower, wearing inside out black basketball shorts and a grey t-shirt which looked a size too small for him, clinging onto his shoulders. Stan assumes he stole it from Bill, who seems to come in complaining every other week about losing the shirts he wears to work.

Stan closed the door behind him, to keep the fridge at 35 degrees, as per regulation. He taps the handle six times after he closes it. He opens his mouth but before he even begins to form a sentence, Richie raises his free hand to silence him, swaying in the opposite direction to counteract the motions of the tins.

“Staniel, I am extremely busy - this better be important.”

“Don’t call me that - I’m completing next week’s rota, what evenings do you want me to put you down for?”

“I thought I said it better be important, and this ” Richie waggled a finger at him, “doesn’t fit the bill.”

“I can tell you what does fit the Bill though,” Stan taps the pen six times against the paper as Richie accidentally kicks a box, edging it every so slightly into an angled position. Stan found it difficult to tear his eyes away from it.

“Pray tell.”

“That shirt you’re wearing.”

Richie swears as he overbalances himself too much, and the tins clatter to the floor. “Aw fuck, almost beat my record.” Richie gives Stan a look that Stan knows is a prompt for Stan to ask him how long his stupid record is. He doesn’t. Richie makes a face to himself and picks up the tins, one is dinted, Stan notes. “Well, one of Georgie’s shirts could fit Bill so that doesn’t really add a notch to your belt.”

That’s a fair point. Bill is an estimate of three inches wide and thirty-seven feet tall, well - five foot eight - but in the middle of a growth spurt, which if the constant complaining about the pains in legs are to go by, is set to send him shooting.

“What shifts, Richie?”

“Well, tell me what’s left and we can work from there, pardner.”

Stan grimaced at the voice - and also at all the tins not being rotated so the front text and the dusty-coloured orange label sits front.

Monday:   Bev (5pm - close) Tuesday: b i l l (5pm - c l o s e ) Wednesday: b i l l (5p m - cl o se  ) Thursday: Bev  (5pm - close) Friday: Saturday: Ben (12pm-close) | Stanley (6.30-3.30) | Bill (7-4) | Mike (8-5) | Eddie (9-5) | Beverly ( 9-5 please) | Richie ( 9-5) | Sunday: Bev  (12pm - close) | Stanley (6.30-3.30) | Bill (7-4) | Mike (8-5) | Eddie (9-5) | Ben (9-5)  | Richie (9-5) |

Stan reads Richie the rota and Richie contemplates it for a moment before fixing his glasses and taking the clipboard and pen from Stan’s hands. “How come Beverly always gets first dibs, is she giving her supervisor … sexual favours?” He winked suggestively at Stan and wiggled his hips a little. Previously, Stan would have thought nothing of it, but the sight makes Stan think back to Richie’s hips wiggling to adjust to Stan being full flush inside him made his mouth turn to cotton.

“Shut up, Richie.”

Richie quickly scrawled his name down and pressed the back of the clipboard into Stan’s chest, pushing until he was walking Stan into the door of the fridge. Stan’s eye caught the smudge of ink on the fleshy part of Richie’s hand - he was left handed so Richie usually had ink markings there during class, but he usually washed them off when he was at the bathroom. The black smudge stayed fixated on his mind even as Richie opened the door behind him, almost sending Stan sprawling to the floor. He managed to regain his balance, as Richie cackled at him.

He didn’t tap the door handle.

Stan knew this wasn’t significant. A door handle didn’t need to be tapped six times before it was opened and closed, it’s redundant and time consuming and sure, before he got his meds he would have cried for hours into his Mother’s shoulder about it, convinced something terrible was going to happen. He’s better now, he knows better. So that leads Stan to ponder, why was he pushing Richie back into the freezer and furiously tapping on the door.

Six times for Richie opening it.

Six times for Stan closing it.

Six times to open it again.

Simple.

Stan felt ridiculous doing it, a strange heaviness in his belly of embarrassment - he wasn’t quite sure what was causing this particular tick to come back and to be honest, it was worrying. He made a note to call his Doctor on Monday.

“Is that morse code? Who are you signaling, Stanny-boy.”

Fuck, he was almost done, too. With Richie’s interruption he has to start again, “Richie, shut up for a minute - just don’t talk or say anything.” He continued tapping, and Richie - who had his hand raised to his brow in a salute - stayed dutifully silent until the tapping ceased and Stan sighed in relief as he opened the door.

Stan waited for Richie to walk out after him and tapped six more times before closing it. He moved the clipboard back into the shelf near Eddie - top shelf of all the clean plates and such was reserved for the paperwork and rotas. Not that Eddie knew - he couldn’t reach it.

Stan went to move to go over to the Kitchen area, to make his way out the front and make sure everything was running smoothly but came face-to-face with Richie, who seemed to be looking at him rather strangely.

“What are you-”

“Why are you acting so weird?”

Stan scratched at his wrist, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He said, moving around Richie and through the kitchen, barely getting to the red swing-door before Richie was putting on the bow of his apron. “Get off, you’ll mess up the knot.” He tried to slap Richie’s hands away - hands which have a smear of ink on the flesh.

“Why were you tapping the door like that? Were you having a minor epileptic fit or something?”

“Richie.” Stan warned, trying to pry Richie off of him. Richie lowered his grip on his apron, but Stan didn’t move away, rather he turned around to face the boy in question, hands folded behind his back, gently scratching at his wrist.

“I’m just wondering why the stick up your butt is deeper than usual today, that’s all.” He had the audacity to twist his voice into one of genuine concern. Stan itched his wrist quicker, he needed to move his fingers. Then, suddenly, without reason and without prompt, the world got very overwhelming all of a sudden.

Richie absentmindedly tousled his hair, as he does sometimes. Only, Stan could feel the knots, he could see Richie’s fingers catching them and tugging a little. Stan could feel Richie’s straw-like hair all over him, again. He could smell the faint smell of cigarettes masked with Febreze overpowering his nose and making him choke. The sizzling of the boiling oil to the right of Stan bled into his ears and he tugged on his earlobe to dislodge the sound from his head.

Stan’s head was blistering, why was everything so much all of a sudden.

“Earth to Stanley? Hellloooooo? Oh my gawd - we’ve lost him, Bill!” Richie’s accent smoothed over his head like acid, Stan slapped Richie’s smudged hand out of his face and tried to breathe around Richie’s smell. “Geez Louise, what the hell is wrong with you, you look like you’re gonna spew.”

“Richie. Leave me alone.” Stan choked out, Richie must have taken what Stan was saying somewhat seriously, because he stepped back a little out of Stan’s personal space but didn’t leave. Richie wasn’t wrong, Stan’s stomach was twisting and knotting every time Stan noticed something that made his skin itch. One of Bill’s shoelaces is untied, the clock is hanging off-centre on the wall, Mike had a black mark on the back of his otherwise white t-shirt, Richie was wearing mismatched black socks - his right one had a ribbed lip, the left one was more of a blue-black than the inky black of the other. The ink stain on Richie’s hand, the box in the fridge being left lopsided, jutting out over the perfect squares of tile, the buttermilk tins not being lined up. Every single thing Stan seemed to look at made him want to peel his skin off. “Were you too busy jackin’ it to take your meds this morning?” Richie asked, before slapping himself on the forehead in a mock- duh moment, “I knew I shouldn’t have watched those Indiana Jones movies with you last week, you always get so heated seeing Indy - ugh but who can blame you, those biceps just call out to you.”

“I don’t have a crush on Harrison Ford.” Or any guy for that matter. He bit his lip and clawed a little at his sleeve.

“Oh! Is it me then? Because I definitely remember you getting pret-ty heated last weekend about someone .”

Bill’s voice stuttered for a second - Stan hadn’t even noticed he was listening, but thank God, Bill was going to tell Richie to shut his mouth before Stan stuffs it with breadrolls, “No one wuh-wuh-wuh-wants you to stick their-their dick in you, Rich, I swuh-swear.”

Not quite the diversion that Stan was hoping for but thanks for the help, Bill. Richie eyed Stan up like a dog eyeing up a steak, “Oh no, you haven’t heard?” Richie sing-songed, it pinched Stan’s ears. “Our Stan is a pitcher! See, Bill, I even put it in baseball lingo for you - anything to help the cogs grind in that empty head of yours. Yes, our little, innocent Stan, loves nothing more than to go for a quick cave exploration under the sheets.”

Stan felt his resolve snap, like Bill accidentally snapping his ‘shatterproof’ ruler in half to test its claims, “Just because you take it up the ass, Richie, doesn’t mean we want to hear about that shit all the time. I know you think it’s funny, or cute or whatever but it’s not. It’s gross, and I don’t want people in the Synagogue talking about me even more when they overhear you saying shit like that - if they find out I’m friends with a queer I’ll be fucking killed, are you really that self-centered that you can’t get that?” The words seethed out of Stan before he even had a chance to stop them. As soon as they were out of his mouth he regretted them, but he stitched his lips shut and stood his ground.

Richie’s face took the shape of an injured puppy before he let out a laugh which sounded so forced Stan was surprised he didn’t choke on it. “Better than convincing myself I’m not a queer with my dick in a guy’s throat, like some people.” Richie didn’t say it in an accusatory way, but Stan knew what Richie was getting at, he just said it in such a way that Stan didn’t receive any questioning glances.

Stan opened his mouth to reply before he felt Ben’s firm grip on his shoulder, he noticed one on Richie as well. “I th-think we should ta-take a breather.” Stan didn’t need to be told twice before he shook Bill’s hand off his shoulder took himself to the smoking area. It was freezing and he didn’t have a coat but he didn’t care, he came out half out of spite because he knew Richie would be dying for a cigarette, and half because being outside usually helps to calm him down.

Stan tapped a fast tune into the inside of his wrist, stinging the slightly tender flesh that he had been scratching at. The cigarettes littered around him were burning into his flesh, so Stan looked away.

Breathe.

Stan forced his staggered breath through the movements he had coaxed Eddie with so many times before, breathing deep and slow, trying to calm the sharp staggered breaths that had his lungs burning with the sharpness of the cold air.

He was angry. He directed that anger at Richie - because it was Richie who had made him mad, surely. Richie had absolutely no right to say shit like that to him. Richie knew what they were doing, he had initiated it that night, with cigarette smoke in his lungs and six shots in his belly - so why was Richie suddenly being all bitchy about it? Stan couldn’t understand, they were having fun, they were messing around and spending time together in such a distinct way. Richie and Stan’s connection was special, Stan knew that much, I mean - he wouldn’t dream of making out with Eddie on top of his perfectly made baby blue bed sheets, or bucking up against Bill and breathing breathy groans into his mouth, or laughing as Beverly accidentally brains herself on Stan’s headboard as he bottoms out. Stan’s face involuntarily twitches - thinking about Beverly like that made his stomach twist in discomfort.

He found himself replaying that thought, he has too much respect for Beverly to think about her like that, imagining her sprawled out, so dirty and open like Richie had been felt wrong. Stan feels dirty. Rightly so - Beverly is one of his best friends and picturing her in such a position feels inherently misogynistic in a way. He isn’t sure why.

He finds himself quickly shaking the thoughts from his head, fingers dancing up and down his arms as he folds into himself to try and warm himself up from the cold. He loved Richie, of course he loved Richie, Richie was his best friend and that was a title that as juvenile as it may seem, Stan takes seriously. He and Richie have a connection, a special one that makes Stan’s stomach twist and turn whenever he thinks too much about it - their bond is so special, so definitively them that Stan finds a little pride in the way he and Richie spend their evenings together, whispering moans into each other and grinding against each other with laughter and moans on their lips, the best way to practice for whatever girl Stan may find himself with, and for whatever girl or boy Richie finds himself with too.

The thought makes his gut lurch so violently he almost falls off the plastic chair.

Richie was using him as a trial run before he falls into bed with someone else. Stan, of course, was doing this as well - but the thought barely ghosted his mind as the turning of his stomach moved up to his chest. Richie was essentially using him. Their heavy make-out sessions, with Stan whispering for Richie to stop making stupid fucking jokes were under the pretense that it was all, ultimately, for someone else. Someone that Richie would kiss with the ghost of all those nights with Stan and the person would be none the wiser. The thought made Stan feel ill, he felt his chest ache.

They would stop, then. If Richie finds someone they would have to stop. Stan doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t want to stop. He likes what he and Richie had, he likes the secret whispers and quiet breathy moans that they braid together under the covers of Richie’s bed. He likes it, he loves it. Of course he likes it, he’s relieving sexual tension and he’s doing it with his best friend. There’s nothing in that which Stan doesn’t like. Richie’s dick is maybe, inconvenient, Stan thinks, nodding to himself. It would be better if Richie was a girl.

He finds his stomach growing sicker and sicker by the minute.

No, he’s been through this already. Richie being a boy means there’s no risk for pregnancy, there’s no risk for … feelings getting involved - it’s actually better that Richie is a boy - since Richie knows how to kiss and pull on his Adam’s apple perfectly, knows how to grind with just enough pressure to hurt a little bit, knows how to twist his wrist at the right part under his head that makes Stan grapple for purchase on the sheets. Stan breathes through the blood pumping through him. Which definitely is not pumping down south at the pictures of Richie mouthing on his cock flood his vision.

Then it’s not his cock. Richie is grappling a faceless body, moaning and writing under a stranger, crying out in desperate breaths into someone else’s mouth. Punching moans out like he’s getting paid for it, fists curling in his hair, in his sheets, around the stranger’s shoulders. Stan feels his face flush with anger. Stan wants to scrub at his skin, he feels dirty, he feels used. Stan doesn’t spend nights tangling his legs with Richie, grinding until he feels tears prick his eyes, just to be thrown to the side when Richie finds some random John to keep his bed warm.

Stan doesn’t dwell on the thought that pushes through his head that maybe he only wants Richie to himself. He wants them to keep their nights of fun exclusive to each other forever. The thought  is too much for Stanley to wrap his head around, so he promptly ignores it and imagines it never crossed his mind at all.

[victoriavmw82]

Da Funk

Since I have been staying at my friend's pad, one of her dogs took a liking to me. It was her sons dog, Sir aka: Rookie Wookie. That dog just loved me to pieces, why I have no clue, he would sit by the door and wait for me, sit infront of the bedroom and lay in the hallway.....hoping I would cave in and let him lay with me. I was tempted to take him out and do a photo shoot and me dress up almost as if I stepped right out of an episode of Star Wars.....the vintage story more like around the time frame of Dryden Vos. I imagining I was the love interest or one of his captives/ assistant. Rookie Wookie even made sounds like Chewbacca which was hilarious. The first time he did it to me it caught me off guard because he had gotten out and typically when dogs get out of they run wild and your forever trying to catch them......this morning it was different he and LG had gotten out. Now LG is a pit mixed,Sir/ Rookie Wookie is a red heeler mix. I believe he is red heeler and spaniel mixed.....but my friend will swear up and down he was a German Shepherd mixed🙄 So Rookie Wookie he did what I call a victory run and then he went to pee. LG followed suit. I walked over to them, LG continued to use the restroom and looked at me as if to say, "Do you mind?!" Rookie Wookie sniffed the grass and as soon as he saw me he ran over making the sound 🤣😂I didn't realize it but if Harrison Ford had been standing there everything that I said and did afterwards, well sounded like I was talking to Chewbacca 😂🤣I was even trying to whisper cuz it was morning🤣😂The dogs listened😮 Surprisingly! I told Wookie it was time to go in and he followed me sniffing everything along the way, LG ran over to me. LG got in the door we had to wait before it was Rookie Wookie's turn he heard the camotion and began to howl looking at me between breaths of howling much like Chewy would😂🤣I realized this in the second round of howling and played the part, laugh out loud. Rookie Wookie knew when I was upset, knew when I was happy and knew when I needed a laugh or was sad. My first night at my friend's I even woke up to him literally sleeping in my lap, almost like he knew I needed a hug, the next night he slept at my foot which is the biggest compliment ever. I find it interesting that it was him that took up with me because I happen to be a HUGE Tom Hiddleston fan, like huge. Tom Hiddleston, apparently has a fur pet, named Buddy I'm not sure if Buddy is a Cocker Spaniel or Red Heeler or a mix of the two but needless to say Sir/ Rookie Wookie looked very similar. This season has been a very weird one since January mainly since March, there are times for me as fan getting ready for the release of Loki and then me as a fan going through all in one season the fandom of Loki;catching up,cuz I spent most of those years in a shelter.......ALL the MCU movies I watched while in the shelter. The whole reason we began was to pull me out of my funk, imagine that, going through something and a friend suggested we start watching the movies and ya know it worked. We for a short while, at least while the Avengers and Thor was doing their thing....we became family, doing what the Avengers would do, pausing to eat together.....me being the Loki at times.....a lot of times actually 🤣😂looking back on it and then turning around and being genius in the kitchen dispite what I was going through and like Dr. Strange rocking it out, being taken out of the kitchen and feeling much like Dr. Strange did afterwards and me like Dr. Strange forced to find higher purpose to heal myself and well getting a result much like Dr.Strange.

I've spent most of this season honestly trying to figure out if I'm to risk everything and try, try to break through at age 38 now 39 with the purpose of trying to see Lady Deadpool come to life on Cinematic screen or if I'm supposed to at age 39 go for it and try to make it as a make-up artist and or hairstylist. I considered risking everything and trying to go for a chance of a lifetime for a series that actually wanted to train those wanting to learn.......the only thing that stopped me was it was in a different country and it's one thing to be homeless close to home but homeless going for your dreams in a foreign place I actually was like.....Ummm if I fail,it's gonna be an epic fail and Well ya!" Although Scotland sounded like a dream hashtag goals and well, I do know a lot of biblical info enough to have the average person left going😲😮Like you stored that away in your brain....what the heck! Why aren't you a scholar or something 😂🤣 So I found out that my buddy that found me parelled his, I just keep wondering if this was a sign. I was not the dogs owner, and yet it listened to me as if I was, almost like he choose me. So I'm still up in the air what I should do honestly, I've been inspired by so much this season it's hard to put it all down and honestly some strange things that have happened that almost make me think I should try. I've been debating on if I should move to New York. Why New York, I haven't got a clue it just keeps coming up. There was a job opening recently that was in New York, I felt it was a job I should have applied for because I could have rocked it out, I let fear get in the way from applying, again being homeless in New York, is not ideal or starting over again.....it's literally sink or swim. Cold winter.....being homeless in the winter sucks ass, just saying. Imagine being up North......No!!!!!! So that was the factor that stopped me that and Pandemic issues in regards to the Delta Varient. However, it does keep coming up, should I try starting over again in another state, would I be more successful? Who knows, in my opinion I think it would be the same, just different people and scenery so to speak but hey I could be wrong. I keep thinking that my life is gonna some how change drastically for the good by moving to New York, like almost as if it was destiny type thing. I don't believe much in destiny but it keeps coming up, the whole New York thing. The shelter systems in a way are even better, the programs and the success rate and resources are better. However I'm not sure if those statistics are based off of women with children if this also includes women without children and women in my age bracket, that also plays a factor believe it or not. Not living there I can already without digging probably guess that shelters are gonna probably be in or near Brooklyn, so to me then there is the factor of how do I get to interviews, jobs, if I do pursue my dreams schooling or classes. Restaurants are probably gonna be on the other side of the bridge then there's the factor of the bridge, during the winter is that something I need to be doing. How long are these programs for time line wise am I looking at a couple of weeks to get a job,save and find something or is it 90 or 180 days or something between those two numbers. What are the other variables. I can tell you all about Texas, TABC, Food handlers, etc but in another state what's it like? Health care, would my situation medically be able to be fixed there through indegent programs or are my chances better here in Texas??? Cuz that has to be taken care of at some point.

My goal if I do this would be to move there, get in a shelter cuz I have nothing, first get my medical issue taken care of then work on what I'm calling physical therapy (losing weight)training down to the size I'm normally at which is an athletic size 12 or 14, while I'm doing that since medical issue is taken care of working and saving, finding a place then from there either going back to school or doing the crazy and attempting to start an acting career or technical backstage career either as makeup artist and hairstylist or just makeup artist and possibly my other strength in tech; props and set building, believe it or not. I already asked my high school drama teacher when I thought I was gonna apply for the Good Omens job opportunity if she'd be willing to write me a letter of recommendation and she hands down was all for it.....soooo I'm not sure. I mean it would be a big risk. I keep having reoccurring dreams were I'm in New York, I'm not sure if it's a sign or if there's something else that is being said to me in my dreams and I'm just focusing too much on the literal. Either way I've been doing a lot of thinking since February 😬.

Back to Rookie Wookie, he passed today. It came as a shock to me. Like I said for whatever reason he was brought into my life even if it was, just for a short while to help me along to the next part of my journey but I must say, my jaw like to have hit the floor that again on the fact that a four legged friend mine was similar to someone I admires fur baby. What is so weird about this is,in my dreams, Sir/Rookie Wookie was there with me in New York, I had asked my friend if he could go with me and she had said yes. We walked a trail together in a park, if that even exist and we would go have coffee together and I'd feed him pieces of apple or frozen green beans🤣😂sounds weird, I know and I even got him certified so he was my service dog, I imagined him a Wookie and me dressed space age😂🤣even the collar. I know I had waaaaay too much dream thought into this and then he'd sit with me head in my lap while I read to him whatever book I was reading or with me enjoying whatever music I was listening to. In my dream we even jogged together. I firmly believe that some animals have a spirit about them, almost as if they are like sent from God to be with you or that they have a human type personality Rookie Wookie was that type of animal and he will be missed greatly.

[chocolatemillkk]

Flower Petals I

Request: I know you haven’t done any Conor imagines but can you do one where he gets angry and maybe like smashes something? Lol if you can do that 💕

Hope this was alright!💙

Part 2

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The thing with dating somebody in the public eye was that you had to keep really mundane things secret. If you went out with another guy, the media would go crazy. If your boyfriend went with a female friend, he would be cheating. And the issue with being in the public eye yourself was that everyone knew your backstory, where you came from, and all your old boyfriends.

“Y/N!” Conor’s voice bounces in the empty apartment as he searches for his girlfriend. He had recieved a ton of Twitter notifications after a fan caught his girlfriend of over a year with her ex from Paris. He already knew she was friendly with him and that she was going to show him around the city but did she have to be so damn touchy with him?

Conor calls Y/N for the fifth time but it goes to her voicemail. He throws the phone on the sofa but has to pick it up again when it rings.

“Did Y/N plan this?” Conor’s publicist asks.

“She was just showing him around the city! How was she to know people would be photographing her.” Even though Conor was furious with his girlfriend he wasn’t going to throw her under the bus. But he was so tempted to because now he would get the shit. He was finally releasing an EP of his music and was told he should be on his best behaviour so all the interviews during his tour would be painless. Now he can envision all the interviewers gleefully asking if there was trouble in paradise.

Conor hears a key in the lock and excuses himself, hanging up the phone. Be calm, Conor reminds himself but his chest was heaving. He trusted Y/N but the pictures did paint an intimate story.

“Hey love, how was your day?” Y/N asks Conor while placing her bag and jacket on the couch.

“Forget about my day, yours is blasted all over social media!” Conor can hear the anger slipping into his voice and so could Y/N because she pauses against the doorframe.

“I don’t get it,” she whips out her phone and sees for herself the damage she’s done. “Con, I am so sorry I didn’t realise-”

“Of course you bloody didn’t!” Conor snaps. “I specifically asked you not to cause any drama and you’ve gone and done it for everyone to ask about next month!”

“That’s not very fair Conor! You know this isn’t my fault! They’ll just take any chance to twist reality and-”

“Y/N!” Conor throws his phone back on the sofa and starts pacing madly. “I don’t fcking care! I already know you were hanging out with Logan today and I don’t give a shit if you’re friends with him! But look at the pictures! Look!”

Conor grabs Y/N’s phone and scrolls through them frantically. “He’s got his arm on you and you’re holding his hand! He’s kissing your forehead! Does he not know you’ve got a boyfriend! Do you not care about us?”

By now, Y/N has tears in her eyes and she’s trying not to cry. “That’s so unfair Con!”

“I know it is Y/N cuz I’m gonna be dealing with it! But just answer me why you were acting like such a couple with him! Did you not think it would get back to me!? Do you still have feelings for him!?” Conor’s voice cracks in his anger

“What the hell Conor! Of course not!” Y/N tries to grab Conor’s arms but he pushes her off.

“Don’t touch me Y/N! I don’t need to be touched by you especially!” Conor was furious and he wanted to make Y/N feel the hurt he was feeling so he didn’t care what came out if his mouth.

“I’m sorry Conor! I don’t know what else to say! I know you’re stressed out about the EP but-”

Y/N is cut short when Conor grabs a vase of flowers-a gift from the record label-and smashes it to the floor. She scrambles back and watches Conor run both hands through his hair. She didn’t recognise this man and it terrified her.

“Conor?” She asks gently. He walks past her, brushing her on his way out the door. She sinks to the ground and begins to cry. Conor was always pretty stressed out but the last few months revealed a side of him she didn’t know he had and it was hard to love him then. But she still stuck with him, knowing he needed her more now than ever. And she knows she fcked up tonight but this violence wasn’t worth it.

Y/N sweeps up the glass but leaves the flower petals scattered on the ground. Conor could deal with those. She breaks down twice while cleaning and finally decides it would be best if she packed a bag and gave Conor his space.

She didn’t hear him walk in again, “Y/N what are you doing?” He asks tiredly behind her.

“I’m just…giving us some space Con.” She says gently, trying not to ruin her makeup again.

“What? We don’t need space Y/N. we just need to get one thing straight-”

“Conor,” Y/N turns to face her boyfriend. The bags under his eyes age him and his hair looks a mess. He has glasses sat on top of his head and he looks at her with not an ounce of love. It hurt. “The stress you’re under is changing this relationship into something it shouldn’t be. We really just need some space.”

Conor either didn’t hear her right or decided not to hear her because he grabs her arm as she tries to walk past him. “Y/N, please don’t go.” His eyes are apologetic but Y/N decided that until he actually swallowed his pride and said it. She wouldn’t let him get away so easily.

“It’s for the best,” she says.

His grip tightens as he pulls her closer. He wraps his arms around her and holds her. Or rather, she holds him. And it tears her up inside. She loved Conor and she wanted to be with him but she knew that wouldn’t help.

“Conor, love, just one week okay? I’m going back home to Brighton for a week. We can both clear our heads. I’ll be back for your release.”

“Please,” Conor says into her shoulder but she gently pushes him away. “I’m sorry.” Tears streak his face and he pouts-something he didn’t realise he did but Y/N could never say no to. But this time, she did.

“I love you Conor, look after yourself.”

Conor doesn’t walk her to the door, he just watches her leave. And he stands there as his heart slows down until he can breathe normally. And that’s when he collapses to the floor, realising the extent of what he did tonight and how even if he was lucky enough to be forgiven-things would not be the same again.

[littlesliceofdean]

Apple Pie Life

Summary: After stopping the apocalypse and losing Sam, you and Dean are left to clean up the aftermath. It breaks your heart to see Dean give up like this, but he just can’t keep hunting anymore. When he tells you about the promise he made to Sam, how will you 

A/N: Finally turning out one of my long-time WIP’s! Let me know what you think, and if this gets good feedback I might turn it into a series (but idk cuz it kinda sucks).

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, depression, man tears, and did I mention angst because god damn...

It finally happened. Sam gave the go-ahead to the archangel Lucifer. And, boy, did it end badly. Sure, you, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Bobby had managed to stop the apocalypse and put big, bad Lucy back in his cage. But one of your best friends had gone spiraling into hell with him—literally. Now you sat with Dean, your closest friend, on the gravel road where the gates of hell had just slammed shut, leaning against the shiny black paint of his Impala, fingers loosely intertwined.

The truth is, before Sam even said yes to Lucifer, you had been pissed at both brothers. You didn’t want Sam to get hurt, nor did you want to believe that his plan could ever work, not if he would be gone when it was over. This type of pure stupidity and extreme sacrifice for the greater good could only be pulled off by the Winchesters. There was only the smallest chance in hell—not to make light of the situation—that Sam’s great plan could get the devil back in the box. You decided to take your frustration out on Dean, mostly because you knew he could deal with it.

As close as you were, you both tended to use each other as an outlet for pent up anger. The two of you had been fighting the whole day over every little detail, but maybe that was why the plan had gone so terribly wrong. It was stupid for you and the brothers to so much as tempt the idea of letting any of you make any more sacrifices for each other—for the world, the greater good, or any of that crap—than you already had. But both men had hugged you and reassured that the plan would work, so you gave a grim smile and tried to have faith, knowing you’d already lost the battle. And now Lucifer was back in hell. Still, Sam was gone, and so were Cas and Bobby, all overpowered by the two warring archangels.

You and Dean bleeding from your many wounds, the two of you just sat there silently as each of you waited for the other to speak. Both of you knew you weren’t helping anything, but for that small fraction of time, you needed that silence to recollect your thoughts, to grasp the fact that Sam was really gone, and for good this time. You knew it would be difficult for Dean to bear, and you knew that he would probably do something stupid to get Sam back, despite what had happened the night before the chaos ensued.

You could hear the leaves rustling around you, though through the noise of the graveyard you could still hear Sam’s voice, harsh and dripping with Lucifer’s poisonous words. You felt the cuts and bruises covering your skin, remembering how the devil had struck you repeatedly with his—Sam’s—fists when you fought him away from a blubbering Dean, who had been beaten to a pulp. Your throat still ached from when you had screamed out at the closing portal as Dean struggled to hold you back from trying to save Sam. The cold metal against your back pressed against the bruises you’d earned when Michael had carelessly flung you across the hood of the Impala, leaving both your ribs and the windshield of the car destroyed. To be fair, it was kind of stupid of you to punch an archangel in the face.

“Dean?” Your voice was hoarse when you managed to choke out the word. Your eyes traveled across Dean’s swollen face, blood still dripping from between his teeth. He was crying heavily, tears spilling only from the eye that hadn’t been devastated by the devil’s lashings.

You watched the broken hunter with hesitation, his eyes glazed over. He turned to you, spitting crimson into the grass, and leaned his head into your shoulder. Adorable…The both of you sat just holding each other hopelessly as you stared at the spot where the bravest man you’d ever known had disappeared forever.

Dean mumbled something into your neck, something you couldn’t understand because his voice was muffled significantly by your embrace and his tears, but you just ran your fingers over his scalp and whispered comforting words. It felt odd, watching such a usually-strong and stoic man crumble, weeping, into your arms, especially when you felt as beaten down as he, but it calmed you, carding your fingertips repeatedly through his short hair.

Sometime later, tears and blood still flowing freely, a man’s shadow extended to loom over you both. You turned your head up to the man—the angel— whom you’d both seen during the battle burst into a million pieces. Castiel knelt to his knees and wrapped his arms around you and Dean in a somber hug, pulling away to place his cool fingers on both of your foreheads and heal you both. You barely registered that he was speaking, saying something to Dean. It all sounded warbled, as if nothing either of them could say mattered as long as Sam was gone.

Both men beside you rose to their feet, exchanging a few more words before Cas padded off to bring Bobby from the ground as well. Dean leant his hand to you, pulling you upright before gazing at the horsemen’s rings locked together in his other palm. You stared at the trinkets in his hand before meeting his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dean…” is all you could say, heart sinking further as his green eyes stared into yours so desperately.

He pulled you in for another hug, gripping your shoulders like they were the only thing concrete in the world, then muttered into your hair, “Me too, Y/N/N. Me too.”

When you pulled away, Dean had already begun to round the side of the car, fumbling with his keys, and opened the driver’s side door. You dragged yourself into the passenger seat with a small huff, and Cas jumped into the backseat after you managed to get your door shut, your arms like lead.

There was no music playing when Dean started up the engine, just the low rumble of the Impala spurring to life and the crackle of its tires rolling over the gravel beneath them. Rolling past the tombstones you wiped away the last of your tears, heart sinking further with the reminder of the battle you had just witnessed.

It wasn’t until you got on the highway out of town that Dean spoke, barely audible, “Where are we gonna go now?”

“I’m getting back to Heaven, I s’pose,” Cas’s shoulders shrugged from the rearview mirror, “With Michael in the cage I’m sure it’s total anarchy up there…”

You managed to crack the tiniest of smiles, “So, are you the new sheriff in town, huh? Big chief upstairs?”

Cas gave a half-grin, “I like that, yeah, I suppose I am.”

You watched Dean’s eyes glance at you for a brief second as he spoke, “What about us? I know it’s a lot to handle, so soon, I mean. I’m up for whatever. We could crash for a few days, maybe hit Vegas or L.A., buy a townhouse, try to be normal for a while…”

“Well, I thought it was obvious; I mean, sure we can take a break for a little while, a week or two max, but, Dean, there are still people that need saving, monsters to hunt, bodies to burn,” your eyes were hopeful when you looked back at him. He had to know that was what needed to be done. He couldn’t be that stupid. But the look in his eyes proved you wrong.

Dean shook his head, “Y/N, I can’t keep doing this, not anymore. Our lives are so full of this constant mayhem, all this crap we don’t deserve. I can’t keep living like this, not when every single day puts my life on the line, or yours, or Sam’s.” He pauses, a hint of frustration in his green eyes, the internal pain evident in every flicker of his gaze, every crease in his brow.

“You got what you asked for, even if you think you don’t deserve it. We’re hunters, Dean. We’ve gotta do what we can to keep ourselves alive, because we’re too deep into this to just give up. Sam’s not gonna save himself…” You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you weren’t going to stop fighting this greater power, at least not until Sam was back. It was the only thing you knew how to do.

Dean looked down, a pained expression on his face, “Don’t do this to me, Y/N. You and I both know that trying to get Sammy back would mean catastrophic damage. I’m talkin’ this whole apocalypse thing times ten, maybe one hundred. We just can’t do it. It’s time to move on. You promised. We both did.”

“But what if we can save him, Dean? Are you really just gonna sit here when you know there are a million ways you could be helping right now?” You turned around, hoping to appeal to Cas for help, but he was already long gone.

When you turned back, Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, having decided against it. His gaze was cloudy, showing how beaten down he was with the weight of the week’s events, “Yeah, so what if I am?”

“What the hell is this about, Dean?” Before he could respond you added, “And tell me the truth. I’m done with your broody ass bullshit.”

Usually he would be choking back a small smirk at your remark, but his eyebrows furrowed and he stared at the black leather steering wheel in his hands, “This life—it’s not for me anymore. I’m tired, Y/N. Tired of the fate of the whole frickin’ universe resting in my hands. I don’t want to be a killer, I don’t want to be a criminal, and I can’t keep putting people at risk, letting people die on my watch.” With every word Dean spoke you felt a pang of sorrow, pained beyond measure with just the thought that this was how he viewed himself,

“Dean you’re not—”

“No, Y/N, I am. I’m just as much of a monster as everything else we hunt. No matter how hard I try, I’m still a monster, and I still end up empty. I do so much to keep this world alive, and what do I get? Where’s my ‘Grand Prize’? All I’ve got is my brother, in a hole!”

The strain in his voice, the way it cracked with the last few words as he fought back tears—that was what finally broke you. He didn’t deserve this life: the loss and blood and death, the constant fear following him like a shadow. But you had been through it all yourself, had seen horrible things that would always be there, lurking in the depths of your mind. You knew how he felt, and you knew that no matter how much he tried to push you away, he needed someone to latch onto. You understood how weak he felt, how much he desperately wanted to give up, all from the look plastered across his grim face and the way he spoke.

“You have me…” your voice was so quiet, you were surprised Dean even heard it over the rumble of the engine as he sped down the highway, “I know more than anyone how you feel, Dean. We both know that being a hunter has a pretty big price. Sam is gone, and there are people in danger. I know this life is shitty, but if we don’t do the job, who will?”

He huffed, deep in his chest, “You think I’m doing the job as it is? I frickin’ jump-started the apocalypse. Honestly, I’m sick of playing the hero. I don’t want it to be my problem anymore, because it’s not, and I don’t care whose it is.” The tears ran freely down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy once more and his lower lip trembling.

“We can’t just let him rot down there. He’s your brother, for god’s sakes,” you saw the indecisiveness in his eyes and you trembled in fear.

He couldn’t give up, not when you needed him to help you be strong. Because if he did, you’d die, right on the spot, just melt into a puddle of self-pity and guilt. You didn’t realize it until then, but somewhere along the road, Dean had become the only thing keeping you sane, driving you forward.

“Y/N…” he took a shaky breath in an attempt to regain his composure.

He ran a hand over his face to wipe the rolling droplets away, and then pulled off to the side of the road. The engine slowly died down with the turn of the key in the ignition and silence filled the cabin of the Impala. You waited for a minute, eyes trained on the back of Dean’s head with concern as he sat, staring out the window into the darkness. Broad shoulders rose and fell beneath the worn leather jacket before Dean’s eyes meet yours, looking like a wounded animal.

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” he took a shaky breath, and you could feel your heart beat faster in your chest, apprehensive of his next words, “I promised Sam…that when it was all over, I’d try to—” you watched his teeth worry his lower lip between his teeth as he paused, “I promised I’d try to get out of the life, to build something for myself…Please, Y/N, come with me? I can’t do this without you.”

Honestly, those were the last words you’d expected to come out of his mouth at that moment. To think that he just wanted to roll over, to take it easy and live some apple pie life? You were shocked, to say the least. “Are you serious? That’s really where your head’s at right now? Your brother is locked in hell with Lucifer and Michael right now and you want to go play house?”

You had hurt him, that much you knew, but you could see the immediate shift in his demeanor, “Y/N—”

“Look, Dean. I’m not saying I don’t want that; it’s been my dream ever since I was a kid, but we have to be strong right now. I know you don’t think you can do it, I know how much you just want to roll over and die right now because I’ve been there. You did everything you could, and sometimes it’s just not good enough. But it’s still not your fault.”

You reached out between you to find his hand, and watched as your fingers interlocked with his, “And if you don’t believe me, if you don’t believe in yourself, I can be strong enough for the both of us until you do. I know it’s not the apple pie life, and it’s not what any of us wanted, but it’s what we’ve got.”

“It’s just so hard,” he whispered to himself, “but, yeah, I’ll try…”

“I know. That’s why you have me.” He nodded, wetting his lower lip before you spoke again, “Now can I be done with this hippie pep-talk self-help crap because it’s been a long day, and I’d like to catch some sleep before the nightmares kick in again.”

“Okay, yeah,” Dean cracked a small smile, one that only lasted for a second, and you knew in that moment that this was something you could overcome.

Without his hand ever leaving yours, Dean started up the Impala once more and continued on down the slick highway road, Led Zeppelin humming lowly through the speakers the whole way back to Bobby’s.