#don’t think I’m ever gonna be happy with this piece but oh well

[seekingseven]

discontent

[mochinomnoms]

say you can't sleep, baby, I know

NSFW!Trey x Reader

Synopsis

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You're trying to rile him up, right? He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. Trey used to pride himself on his levelheadedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece. “Happy Birthday Trey~”

[wc} - 5,258

[cw/tags] - afab!gn!reader (im sorry folks it's all i know how to write still), NRC is a university in this, domesticity kink, birthday sex, breeding kink (sue me), oral (giving & receiving), trey can be a little mean as a treat

[notes] - i apologize for the person i've become after seeing trey's new b-day card. it does things to me and this is 100% self-indulgent for me. also, tried to use very neutral descriptors for reader so tell me how that went and if it reads well! lastly, the outfit the reader wears is based on sabrina carpenter's outfits from her short n' sweet tour, specifically the baby doll one!

Written while listening to “Espresso” by Sabrina Carpenter, I recommend listening to it while reading :)

Let’s consider exactly the type of person Trey is.

Ever since he’s started school at NRC, he’s always taken a bit of a parental role in Heartslabyul, even before he became vice housewarden. Even Cater would joke about it when they first became friends:

“You’re, like, a total big bro! O-M-G, no! You’re like a dad friend! I’m totes willing to bet that the incoming freshmen are gonna slip up! Call you Dad or something!”

Evidently, when Riddle came into the picture and Trey was appointed his vice, Cater was proven right. He didn’t mind it too much, despite what others might think. 

He liked the familiarity of it, being the oldest at home, it translated well into his position at Heartslabyul, and it came with the added bonus of being able to minimize any chaos that arose. 

That was his main goal, especially with Riddle’s temper during his freshman and at the beginning of his sophomore year. Honestly, he had phenomenal conflict resolution skills, and he just wanted to make his life as easy as possible. 

Everyone at this school liked to make that difficult, though, especially the freshmen of this year.

“Oh fu—I mean sh—dam—fuc—shi—FIDDLESTICKS!”

“Dude, just say fuck, why you gotta say the corniest shit—OW—Treyyy! Deuce hit me!”

Deuce had a guilty look on his face as Trey looked up from his notebook to raise a brow at the two.

“W-well, Ace cussed, so he has to put money in the swear jar!”

“Aw what! Come on Trey!” Ace whined, shoving Deuce’s face to the side as the latter grunted and started pulling at his cheeks and arm. “Riddle’s not here, he’ll never know, so I don’t gotta! Don’t make me!”

Trey simply smirked and gestured to the jar on the fireplace mantle, helpfully available to everyone in the lounge. 

“You know the rules, bud, two thaurmarks for the f-bomb and a .50 cent for the other.”

Ace tossed his head back and groaned, begrudgingly dragging himself over to the jar as he dug around his pocket for change.

“Don’t be rude to your father, Ace.” A few giggles and snorts vibrated amongst the small group studying in the lounge as you wagged a finger at Ace, Grim squinting angrily at the book in your lap. 

Your lips quivered as you hid a laugh, jokingly chastising the ginger. 

“No need to be a brat.”

Trey had to withhold a snort at that comment, rich coming from you. He knew better than anyone that you could be as much of a brat as you were another parental figure.

“Oh ha-ha, very funny, Prefect. What, does that make you, Mom or Dad 2?” Ace stuck his tongue out at you as you grinned and focused back on Grim. 

“Okay Grimmy, so remember, what alchemy recipes need mandrake root?”

Watching from the corner of his eye, Trey watched fondly as you murmured soft words to Grim. It reminded him of his Mom talking to his siblings after a nightmare, or of his Dad after one of them would get hurt in the kitchen. 

Soft, soothing, parental. You’d make an excellent parent one day. 

Trey felt himself get warm at the thought, adjusting himself in his seat and looking back at his musicology notes. He couldn’t sing very well, but he can memorize notes, and that’s what the upcoming exam was focused on. 

That’s what he needed to focus on, not the way you cradled Grim against you like a parent with their child. Focus on his alchemy flashcards, and not the way you cleaned up the mess on the table so you could bring everyone a tray of snacks he’d prepared earlier that day. Focus on the history textbook in front of him, and not the way you cleaned up the lounge as it got later and later.

It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair how well you fell into the role. Cleaning and humming, one of his spare aprons on you as you wiped down the tables of crumbs and stacked a pile of dishes. It was unfair how sweetly you murmured to the few remaining students, and told them to go to bed and rest up. 

They obliged, probably half asleep at this rate, since it was an hour until midnight. Ace and Deuce had retired a while ago, the latter leaning on the former as they haphazardly stumbled to their room. 

Riddle had dropped by after his housewarden meeting, satisfied by the study group, but ultimately stuck to his very strict evening routine. 

Now it was just you two. Even Grim had been tugged along with Ace and Deuce earlier, not unlike a rag doll slung over their shoulders. 

“Trey? Honey, when are you going to sleep? It’s almost midnight.” His eyes fluttered tiredly as he felt your hands slide over his shoulders and a kiss pressed against his temple.

He felt warm again, heat pooling in his belly. You were so unfair. 

“You should go to bed soon, come on, I’ll take care of you.”

He can think of a few ways you could ‘take care’ of him. 

“It’s fine, why don’t you get Grim and head back to Ramshackle? Curfew is in 30 minutes, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, sighing into his ear, making a tingle go down his spine.

“Okay, but please go to bed soon? I left you a little birthday surprise in your bedroom~”

Trey perked up at that, eyeing your mischievous grin as you waved your fingers goodbye, going down the hallway to the dorms to grab Grim.

To be honest, he’d forgotten that his birthday was tomorrow, he’d been so focused on his midterms that it just slipped his mind. Well, he can’t say he’s not excited to see what you got him, especially since you’d been not too subtly probing him for preferences.

He groaned, running his hands over his face and sighing, heavy and exhausted.

“Ugh, just a bit more and I’ll retire for the night.” Trey reassured himself, eyes straining as he looked between the books in front of him. 

The words on the papers blurred after a bit, the sound of the grandclock lulling him further into sleep, his head nodding off until a ping from his phone started him awake.

It was Cater, his Magicam user popping up on his screen. 

cay-cay_diamond: hbd trey!! 🥳🎉🎉🎉grats on being an old man now!

Blinking at the clock, Trey realized that it was now a few minutes past midnight, so it was technically his birthday. He’s lucky that Riddle followed his own sleep schedule so rigorously, or else he’d be getting a scolding for breaking curfew.

luckyclover: Old? I’m only like 4 months older than you cay-cay_diamond: yeah. old. cay-cay_diamond: anyways! enjoy the gift in ur room!!! i helped (name) pick out the wrapping 😘😘😘

Trey hummed, a small smile on his face as he imagined the two of you bickering over wrapping paper and messily wrapping up a box with a bow. You did seem very excited for him to find it earlier, maybe you two picked something out together. 

He was curious on what exactly you got him and why you hadn’t waited to give it to him at his actual birthday party. And why did you need Cater to help you…you’d always shoo him away when he’d tried helping you with gifts for other’s birthdays. 

Stacking his books into his left hand and walking towards the junior dorm rooms, Trey looked at his phone as it pinged again. 

cay-cay_diamond: on that topic thooo…u should rly go 2 ur room and get ur present! the poor thing! they’ve been w8ing very patiently 4 u~ luckyclover: Waiting? (Name)??? cay-cay_diamond: 🤭🤫😉

Trey sighed, shaking his head and tucking his phone away and digging out his room keys. It was times like these, deep into the night, when he was thankful for having his own room. He felt a bit bad now, you probably fell asleep in his bed waiting for him. 

Though, the thought of you clutching one of his pillows, maybe in one of his sweaters to keep warm, made him smile. Then he could come in, gently take your clothes and shoes off to get you more comfortable, and dress down himself to slip in right behind you.

As he finally managed to get to his room, he heard shuffling as he turned the keys. Trey smirked, noticing that only his rose lamp remained on, and all the drapes to his canopy were now closed. 

He could just barely make out the shadow of you moving behind them, hearing you gasp and the bed squeak, making him let out a soft laugh under his breath.

“You’re breaking curfew, you should be asleep you know? You're such a troublemaker sometimes.” Trey teased you as placed his books on his desk, tossing his hat onto its stand and slipping his shoes off to throw them into his wardrobe and grab his slippers. 

He yawned, the late night really starting to sink into his body as he started undressing, his jacket and vest getting hung back up in the closet as he worked on his sash and unbuttoning his pants.  

“Only like a third of the time!” You whined, the bed softly squeaking as you followed his movements behind the canopy. “Besides, I really wanted to give you your present. Don’t you want to unwrap me?”

Trey paused at the purr in your voice, narrowing his gaze as he saw your hand ever so slightly move the curtain at the end of the bed to peek at him. You were still mostly shrouded in darkness, but there was a very soft glow coming from inside the canopy, so he could just barely make out your mischievous smile.

Though, you quickly frowned, eyeing him up and down out of concern. 

“Not if you’re too tired though, you have bags under your eyes, Trey. Do you just wanna go to sleep?”

Giving you a weary smile, Trey finally tossed his sash to the side and reached for the curtains, pushing them to the side to finally take a look at your “mysterious” present. 

“In a bit, let me see what you got me…”

Trey’s breath hitched, he suddenly felt very wide awake as his eyes roamed up and down your body. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see that you set up string lights along the top of the canopy for ambiance, making you look like you were almost glowing. Though it wasn’t that that made him lose his voice. 

You were sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs curled underneath you, dressed in the most darling sage-green, sheer baby doll dress. The dress's puffy sleeves and hem were lacy, matching the lace on the stockings. 

Holy shit you were wearing stockings.

“Ha, I wanted to surprise you, I thought you could use a stress reliever.”

You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?

“I should’ve realized that you’d be tired from studying for midterms, sorry.”

You're trying to rile him up, right?

“But, still, do you like it? I wrapped myself up just for you~”

He's supposed to be the responsible, big brother of Heartslabyul, he tries so hard. So, so hard to stay out of trouble and have a normal day-to-day life. To behave.

“In any case,” You shifted onto your knees, the dress splitting in the middle, the only thing keeping it together being a small bow at the base of your neck, revealing the lack of undergarments, just your bare skin underneath. “Even if you’re too tired and just want to sleep, I just wanted to say…”

Trey leaned in as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in, batting your eyelashes and ghosting your lips over his with a teasing smile. Your hands caressed the back of his neck, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, making him melt. 

“Happy Birthday Trey~”

It’s now that he noticed that you even added a gloss to your lips, and he could smell the warm perfume on your neck as you pressed your lips to his, tongue swiping over his mouth, asking for permission to enter. Obliging, Trey sighed into the kiss and tangled his tongue with yours, his hands slipping underneath the baby doll and squeezing at your waist.

He really should go to sleep. He has to wake up early for the party. He has to dress in his birthday robes. He has to make sure that the others don’t burn down the kitchen or damage his expensive bakeware as they made his cake. 

But the way your skin felt under his gloved hands, skin meeting skin, lace, skin, and lace again.

How could he be expected to sleep now?

Trey used to pride himself on his level headedness and restraint, but that all went out the window into a swan dive into the lake when he saw you in his bed in that damn one-piece.

Humming in delight against your mouth, Trey slid his hands down, as you curled into his body in response, and squeezed at the fat of your thighs before picking you up. 

A yelp left your mouth as he picked you up and tossed you up the bed, pulling off his shirt and tossing it behind him as he crawled on top of you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he saw the way the dress fell open to expose your body, your chest moving up and down as you watched him with a giddy smile. 

“Oh! I guess you’re not that tired—ah!”

You gasped as Trey grabbed your calves, tugging you up to place the back of your knees on his shoulders. He leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your right thigh, smirking against the lace. 

“I was tired. I should be asleep,” Trey murmured against your stocking laced skin, pressing kisses as he went farther and farther down. “Resting—kiss—Up—kiss—but no.”

He gave you a half-hearted glare, which you responded with a smile and lacing your hands through his hair as he pressed another kiss to the bend where your thigh met your sex. 

“You broke curfew, you wanted to keep me up with your little ‘present’, you know I’d get in trouble for hiding you out in my room.”

Trey gave you a bite on your thigh, groaning as he felt your hands tighten in his hair, moving back to press a soothing kiss to the mark he left.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble? Throw me in the doghouse?”  “Cause I’ll make sure you come right with me, after a little taste of my birthday treat.”

The same time he ran his tongue up your sex, Trey could feel you shiver and pull on his hair as he ate you feverishly, like a man starved from food or water for ages. 

“Mmm! Trey!” You threw your head back, bringing one hand up to slam a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, the walls here weren’t known to be sound-proof. 

He should probably care a bit more, especially when you let out a particularly high-pitched squeal as his tongue began fucking into your hole. 

“Trey! Oooh, Trey~” 

Bringing a finger to join his tongue, Trey smiled against your skin as you squeezed your thighs around his head, using his free hand to push his pants and underwear down to palm at his dick. 

“Trey—aaaah—wait, let me—mmph—Honey—” You let out a shuddering gasp, pulling his head up from your sex. Trey locked eyes with you, leaning into the hand you slid down to cup his cheek and caress his lower lips, wiping the slick and drool from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes? Honey?” Removing his hand from inside you to cover your own hand and kiss your palm, Trey smiled and hummed, “I like that, you know, reminds me of a husband coming home to his spouse.”

Pressing kisses up your body, soft and tingly, up your neck, and back to your lips where they belonged.

“Hmm, I really like the sound of that, (Name) Clover.” You murmured against his lips, smiling as you wrapped a leg around his waist to bring his dick closer to your sex, rubbing against him as you both sighed into each other’s mouths. 

“Is that what you want? You want me to be a cute little spouse? Dress up in a cute apron? Greet you when you come home from work?”

So focused on the softness of your lips and the wetness sliding against his dick, Trey didn’t even notice you twisting your body to turn him onto his back, the back of his head hitting the back of his pillows as you sat on top with a cheeky grin. 

“Hm? How would my husband want me to welcome him home? A hug? A kiss? Mm, what about…me?” Trey watched you with flushed cheeks as you kissed down his body, mimicking his earlier actions as you helped him tug off the rest of his clothes. 

“Oh, how nice it would be for you to come back to a warm, clean home with a spouse…” Looking up at him through your eyelashes and giving him a kitten lick to his tip. “...ready to give soft wet holes for you to fill~”

Giving him a vision into that sweet, sweet future, you swallowed his tip, down his shaft, and started sucking. 

“Haaah—”

Trey lolled his head back into his pillow, letting out a breathless moan as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand working the rest that didn’t fit into your mouth. 

“Fuuuuck. That does sound nice—mmh!” Reaching his hand down, you immediately took one of your hands to lace it with his, squeezing it as you hummed around his cock. 

“My lovely spouse—nnnngh—their pretty mouth—unnnh—soft holes—aaaah—all for me to come home to every day, what a dream~”

A particularly harsh suck made Trey arch his back and squeeze your hand harder, a giggle vibrating his dick as you pulled off. 

“Hehe, is this your way of proposing? Kinda dirty to do it with your dick on my mouth.” You giggled, pressing kisses and quick licks along his shaft. 

“That’s okay though, you and I both know that deep down, you’re a bit of a pervert. Right?”

Trey scoffed, tugging you up with a bemused smile. “Yeah? How can you tell? Thought I hid that pretty well.”

A soft laugh escaping you, you held both of his hands, bringing them up to press kisses on his knuckles, making the green-haired man sigh fondly. 

“The way you look at me sometimes, like you’re undressing me. It makes me feel all warm and tingly, especially when I piss you off.”

Both of you let out a breathless moan as your wetness rubbed against his hard dick, grinding against one another as the tip occasionally caught against your hole, making you shiver. 

“Is it bad that sometimes I wanna get you mad so you’ll fuck me real mean? Is it bad that I want you to use me? To fuck your stress out with me?”

A lump forming in his throat, Trey let go of your hands to pull at the string holding your flimsy baby doll together. Eyes half lidded, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, watching it pool at your elbows as you placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as your grinding turned into vigorous humping against him, making you both gasp in pleasure. 

“Ooh, Trey, honey, baby, hubby~ Won’t you use me? Be a little mean? Pleeeease? Fuck me, fill me up like I know you want! Pleeeeease Trey? Pretty, pretty please?”

Lips smashed against yours as Trey bolted up, groaning into your mouth as he grabbed your hips in an almost painful grip. 

He picked you up once again, throwing you on all fours, covers tangling against your knees and hands, as he ripped your dress off and tossed it. 

Trey’s left hand placed itself on your hip, while his right pushed down on your back, following up your spine to the base of your neck where he pushed you down to shove your face into the sheets, forcing you into a doggy pose.

“So you do like getting me in trouble, little brat. Fine, I’ll be mean.” 

Trey lined his dick against your throbbing hole, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your ear and moving the hand on your neck to wove with your right, squeezing it reassuringly. 

“Squeeze three times if you need me to stop, otherwise, I’m going to fuck that brain right out of your pretty little head, since you don’t seem to be wanting to use it.”

In one, swift move, Trey slammed his hips to your ass, sinking nearly half his length into your warm, waiting hole. 

“FUCK! YES—MMMPH” Burying your face into the sheets to muffle your cries, Trey did the same into your shoulder, shivering at your tightness around him. 

Setting a rhythm, hips smacking into your ass, Trey worked the rest of his cock into you until he could hear the smack of your ass against his hips, the sound echoing with the creak of the bed.

Your tightness around him was heavenly, as was the sight of you sinking further into the bed and arching your ass to sloppily meet his thrusts. Straightening again, bending your arm back so that your hands could remain intertwined.

His left hand caressed your back and the fat of your behind, before bringing it down in a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp and squeeze his hand in a vice grip, though you also tightened around his cock. 

Rubbing a soothing circle against the reddening skin, slowed his thrusts, making you whine and push against him. 

“Haaah, that okay? Feel good?” Trey murmured, smiling at the frantic nod and wiggle against him. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmmph... yessshh... mmmore, mmmore... pleeeashh, honey~” Your sounds were muffled as you bit into the blanket, getting higher and higher as he obliged, not one to deny you after all. 

Every other thrust was met with a slap to one cheek, then the other, the skin turning redder and redder with his handprints marking you. The harder he went, the more and more slack you went, until he was eventually just fucking you like his personal toy. 

Though, you did offer yourself as his present, didn’t you? So it was only fair that he got to use his present as he wished, and right now, he wanted to feel you cumming around him. 

Ceasing his smacks, making you whine, Trey instead melded his body against yours, the weight both overwhelming and comforting, as his left hand instead moved to your sex to rub you to completion. 

Trey watched as you gasped for breath, completely burying your head into the bed to muffled your screams as you came around him, trembling and squeezing him. 

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his shaft was becoming dangerously addicting, and he was very greedy for more of that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m so close! You can give me another one, right?”

Slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you up, Trey adjusted you so that you sat on his dick, kissing the side of your neck for reassurance as he let go of your hand to quickly slide his arms under your knees. 

From all his years of tossing bags of flour and sugar, from kneading dough, from all the labor he’s done as a baker, picking you up was like child’s play. 

Folding your knees up to your chest so he could hold you, back flush to his chest, was nothing for him. Everything for you, though, your over sensitive hole squeezing down on him again.  

“FUCK! I caaame! Treytreytreytrey—” You dug a hand into his arm, tossing your head back and lolling your tongue out with a dumb, drooly smile on your lips. 

“A-almost there—nngh—just squeeze if I need to stop—I’m so close~”

Smashing his lips against yours for an open mouth, wet kiss, Trey pounded faster into you, determined to feel your walls pulsate again, this time as he filled your insides up like one of his pastries. 

Then, an awful, perverted thought filled his head, like a devil was whispering in his ear. 

Why doesn’t he fill them up with his kids? Don’t stop until his cum is drooling out of their hole, and go again to make up for the lost seed. He already wants them to be his spouse, why not add a few little ones to that picture?

Trey was losing any bit of restraint that he may have had as he was now determined to fullfill his fantasy. Even if you couldn’t do it, magic made anything here possible, and right now is good practice anyway.

“I’m—aaaahhh—I’m gonna come inside, okay? Fill you up, yeah?”

Digging your nails into his skin, you nodded against his mouth and whined. 

“Yessssss! Fill me up! Inside! Gimme a baby Trey! I wanna make you a daaaaddy~”

Squeezing your legs further against your chest, Trey pounded faster and faster, trembling as he reached close and closer to his peak. 

Warmth flooded his body, tingles, and he swears sparks, flying over his skin as he felt you clamp down on him for a third time. 

Your voice squealed higher and higher, any previous attempt to be quiet for naught as you practically screamed.

Trey shuddered as he finally came, cum flooding your warm insides as you went limp in his arms. 

Panting for air, both of you remained still for a minute, the bed feeling stuffy with the curtains still closed. After another minute, Trey pulled you up and off of him, shaky as his now limp dick left your warm, comfortable embrace.

Doing his best to gently place you on the bed, Trey let out a breathless laugh as you collapsed on the bed like a rag doll, blinking your eyes tiredly at the ceiling of the canopy. 

“Haah, sorry, I went too hard there, huh?”

You shook your head, giving him a tired smile and reaching a hand for him, which he took and brought up to kiss. 

“It was good, really, good. You liked your present?”

Snorting and nodding, Trey carefully scooped you up to move your head onto the pillows and gently roll off your garter stocking, thumbs rubbing soothing circles as he did. 

“Yeah, I did. Come on, let me get you a shirt.”

You whined as he pulled away, exhaustion starting to steep into him as he tied back the curtains to the canopy to let the stuffiness out. Trey picked up the baby doll he’d tossed earlier, placing it into his wardrobe drawer as he dug out a shirt and sweatpants for himself and a shirt for you.

As he closed the drawer, he noticed your backpack hidden underneath it, digging in it to grab you some underwear. You had packed a pair of pajamas, apparently, but…he’d rather see you in his clothes. 

“Hmm, honey? Come to bed…” You whined, hands reaching out for him impatiently as he slipped on his clothes, crawling over to you and helping you slip your underwear and his shirt on. 

“I’m here, I’m here.”

Trey slowly blinked, eyelids heavy as he scoop you up to place you two under the covers, the soft mattress making him practically become one with the bed and you as you nestled into his chest. 

Your legs tangled with his as Trey wrapped his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin. He could feel fatigue and sleep quickly taking over him as your voice vibrated against his chest, soft and sleepy. 

“Happy birthday honey, I—yawn—love…you…”

A different kind of warmth, soft and sweet, filled him as he squeezed you tighter against him, murmuring back. 

“I love you too…”

*Riiiing* *Riiiiiiiing* *Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

An irritating, loud noise filled Trey’s ears as he groaned, half-awake as he turned over to smack his hand on his phone, silencing the alarm. 

“Aah…Noisy…hhggh.” Trey groaned, rolling over, careful to not crush you under him to blindly reach for his glasses. 

“Glasses…glasses…ah..”

Plastic and glass finally under his palm, Trey slipped his glasses on his face, ultimately throwing himself back into bed next to you, who’d begun shifting awake.

“Mmm, honey?” 

Grunting in response, Trey threw an arm over his eyes, irritated at the sun seeping through the window into his eyes. 

“Early…”

You chuckled, a yawn escaping you as you decided to move closer and slip a hand under his shirt to rub at his chest, pressing kisses into his neck as well. 

“You’re so grumpy in the morning. Come on, you've got a big day ahead.”

“…Ugh, I do?”

Snorting at his response, Trey grunted as he felt you move, peaking under his arm to see you resting on your elbow. You had puffy, dark circles under your eyes from the little sleep you managed to get. 

“Birthdays are a pretty big deal, right?” Smiling at him, Trey squinted an eye and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in protest.

“Ugggh, yeah…”

Hearing you hum, Trey groaned in surprise as he felt you straddle his waist and caress his neck and cheeks, making him remove his arm to blink up at you. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in all sorts of places. The bags under your eyes more noticeable under the night. His shirt dwarfed you. You were a hot mess, all things considered. 

He probably wouldn’t say it out loud, with how cute you were last night, but he thinks you look most beautiful like this. Better than any frilly, skimpy, or tight outfit.

“Come on, Birthday Boy, want me to give you a little pick me up?”

Kissing him with a smile, Trey moaned into the lazy, sloppy morning kiss, tilting his head back as you pressed kissed down his neck, deciding to work on leaving a love bite at the nape of his neck.

Trey’s phone chimed, making him sigh as he reached for it, letting you continue your love bites and kisses, 

Squinting at the few messages, it seemed like a few of his friends and classmates were already sending him birthday wishes. Though, a message from Cater made him blot up, a sudden shock of alertness running down his spine. 

“Ah! Trey, what is it?”

cay-cay_diamond: morning!! happy bday 2 the bday boi again! thought i let u no tht u owe me a favor, had 2 cast a silencing spell on ur roum last nite. totes ruined my beauty sleep! cay-cay_diamond: also i know u got ur lil cutie 2 distract ya, but liek dont b l8 2 ur bday breakfast, grimmy might eat it!

“Shit, we were too loud, Cater had to cast a silencing spell on the room.”

You made an ‘oh’ shape with your mouth, giving Trey an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but at least you enjoyed it, right?”

Trey smiled, more awake now, and nodded, sharing a sweet kiss with you. 

“Definitely. You might have to consider making your go-to gift for now on, it’s gotta be my favorite one I’ve ever gotten.”

He solidified that statement with one more, firm, assuring kiss with you, before having to leave your sweet dream into the real world. 

At least he could have one part of that dream with him at his side from now on: you. 

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[onmykneesformatt]

🍒cherry candy🍒 -m.s.

synopsis: one of your biggest insecurities is matt’s favorite thing in the entire world. so what happens when you go on a shopping spree?

warnings: SMUT, softdom!matt, fem!reader, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, PRAISING OH MY LORDDDTT, unprotected p in v (safe sex is great sex, betta wear a latex), boob play for DAYS, mentions of body dysmorphia, i don’t think anything else???

a/n: this is a lil slow but i'm hoping y'all like it anyways >-<. y’all were HEAVY on the tittyguy!matt shit, so i decided to treat y’all and give y’all a fic😛🍒🌺 ENJOY SLUTS!!🍒🎀🌺

“let’s start at target! they have those billie eilish shirts for her newest album!”

you giggled like a little girl, practically skipping into the target while holding matt’s pinky.

“alright, your choice.” he smiled, happy that you’re finally getting out of the house more.

you’ve been staying inside for the past couple weeks.

he picked up on signs that it was about something someone might’ve said at your family reunion. he loved your body, and he thought anyone who didn’t was insane.

you admitted to him after the first week straight of not having sex or even being half-naked around him while getting dressed everyday.

-

“what’s up with you? you used to love putting on fashion shows every morning while changing, but you haven’t for, what? two weeks now? it’s so cute, and i love it. what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing.”

“it’s something.”

he stood up from the edge of the bed to stand in toe-to-toe with you, your back almost touching the closet door.

“uhm.. i-“

“you can tell me, pretty girl. i wont judge you.”

“mhm, okay. well, do you remember my dads side of the family?”

“oh, god.”

he scoffed, knowing what you were about to say.

“well, at the family reunion, they wouldn’t stop bringing up how i was looking ‘more exposed’ than a college girl should, and kept staring at my boobs. i didn’t take any of it to heart at first, but then my cousins started whispering to eachother. i mean, i get it, i might’ve gained some weight since the last reunion, but it still hurts. and i can only imagine how they felt seeing my thighs and stomach. i went swimming! they practically saw everything they needed to make fun of me!”

he grabbed your waist, pulling you into a hug against his chest while you caught your breath.

“baby. are you kidding? do you know how often i imagine myself between those thighs while i’m at meetings? how i love pressing on your stomach to push you closer against me when i’m behind you? and, oh my god. those boobs. i would lay on them all day if i could. have you ever noticed how when we’re laying down, my hands just ‘happen’ to move up to your chest? or when you’re.. y’know.. on top of me, i use them to relieve ‘stress’?”

he was helpful whenever it came to compliments. more than helpful.

“i know. but almost every girl in my family has the perky, slim look. i don’t think i’m overweight or anything, but compared to them i must look huge.”

matt shook his head at your comment, knowing that no matter what you wore, you looked like a goddess to him.

“you’re not, baby. you’re perfect.”

he backed up, having a cheesy grin on his face. the same face he makes when he’s about to say something funny but kind of corny.

“i mean, you’re like cherry candy to me.”

you giggled, wiping away the light tears on your face.

you felt safe again.

the morning after, you started doing your fashion shows again. matt smiled knowing he was able to bring you so much comfort, and also bring back your confidence.

-

”how about this?” you grabbed the light brown, one-piece bathing suit that had a sheer cover-up attached to it.

“you would look amazing in it. but, i thought you didn’t like one-pieces because of the way they felt on your skin?”

“i don’t,” you looked down, starting to fidget with the price tag. “but, i don’t know. there’s gonna be a lot of girls at this pool party.”

“so?” it slipped matt’s mind. again. he thought you were perfect, so he saw no issue with the way you looked.

“oh.” he remembered. the comments from your dads side of the family shouldn’t have stuck the way they did. he tried to keep his composure, trying not to imagine the way you must’ve acted after they would say things like that. he started to regret not going with you. it was only a few hours, but those few hours affected the next few weeks of your life.

“well, i think you should forget about what people might think. as bad as this may come off, you can’t change anything about your body. i mean, i love it. if you couldn’t tell.”

his hands landed on your waist, pulling you in.

“and, personally, you have the best body i’ve ever seen.” that meant a lot coming from a guy who’s friends with people like madison beer, nessa barrett, and multiple other attractive female influencers. not that you thought he would ever go for them, but he worshipped you. like, worshipped you.

“i love you so much, matt. you have no idea.”

“i love you more.”

~ after about 15 minutes of scouring through the target to find more bathing suits to try, especially two-pieces, you found the dressing room.

matt sat patiently on the bench right outside, waiting for you to walk out.

“uh, matt?”

“yeah, babe?”

“i don’t really wanna, y’know.. walk out there.”

“okay, that’s fine.”

his eyes widened slightly when he saw the opportunity approach.

“do you want me to.. go in there with you?”

you honestly thought nothing of it. i mean, he's your boyfriend. he's seen you naked like a thousand times.

"sure. maybe you can actually help me get this shit off."

you giggled, and he smirked at your offer.

you unlocked the dressing room door, hiding behind it as you cracked it open making sure no one could see you.

as you stepped out from behind the door, matt's jaw dropped at how the beautiful blue bikini hugged you in all the right places. all the right places.

"holy shit."

you accidentally covered your cleavage with your left hand nervously playing with your necklace, while the right rubbed your forehead.

"you think?"

without a word, he grabbed your left hand and threw it to your side. he was drooling at the sight of his favorite thing in the world.

your tits.

"i- uh.. just.. wow."

you blushed, covering your face with both hands.

"stop doing that."

he threw both of your arms down to your side with a stern look on his face.

"sorry, baby. do you.. maybe wanna help me change out of it?"

in an instant, he turned you around and quickly untied your top.

he slid the straps down your shoulders, admiring the soft skin.

his breath was heavy on your ear while he praised you and stared at your chest.

"god. what could i ever do without you? without these?"

his hands slid from your lower belly all the way up to your chest, playing with them like he needed it.

leaving hickeys all over your neck, he slowly turned you to face him. he tugged at the side of the bathing suit bottoms, signaling for you to take them off. after you did, he was quick to proving that you were everything and more.

"jump."

he had you pressed against the wall, your legs around his lower waist and arms slung over his shoulders. he started kissing in the crook of your neck until he reached your chest. he pecked anywhere he could reach, leaving behind little praises.

"i don't deserve you."

"i can't believe you're mine."

"you look more and more perfect every single day."

after about a minute, you both grew impatient.

he slipped his sweatpants and boxer down to his mid thigh. he kept heavy contact with your lips, making sure you knew just how much he craved your sweet taste.

he teased your entrance, slowly slipping his length into you. after adjusting to not only him but also the new position, he started going at a sweet and sultry but quick pace.

he somehow slipped a free hand, squeezing any amount of your tits that he could while kissing your neck. you fell into a high that left claw marks at his upper back, only motivating him more.

"you see how much i care about you? how perfect your- fuck.. your body really is? you had me folded from a bikini."

you giggled while still keeping your heavy breaths.

"try to stay quiet. don't need some rando knowing how great you really are. you're mine. you're my candy."

light groans and quiet sighs both escaped your mouths as you tried to keep from screaming each others names.

"i love you. i love what you give me. i don't deserve it. god- fuck.. i love you."

-

the coast was clear after walking out of the dressing room, both of you sweaty with slightly messy hair.

you walked to the register, smiling and holding matt's hand.

"just these, please."

"great choices, and i'm sure the boyfriend approves."

the cashier giggled while giving a look that made you blush knowing what just happened five minutes prior.

matt pulled you closer to him by your waist.

"trust me, i do."

-

HAHA YALL BETTER BE HAPPYYYYY

now time to move onto subnerd!matt which might be out by next week!!!

bye sluts!!🌺🍒

[tojipie]

prison bf series linked here !

hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.

content: nsfw + phone sex

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the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.

the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.

you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.

“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.

the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.

“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.

“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.

“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.

“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”

he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”

“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.

“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”

you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.

“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.

“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”

he stills, looking you up and down quickly.

"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."

you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.

“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”

“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.

“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.

“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.

“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.

the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.

his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .

“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.

“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.

“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”

“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”

you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.

sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.

a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.

you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.

“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.

“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.

“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”

“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.

“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.

“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.

“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.

“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”

“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.

“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”

the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.

────────────────────────

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa

[stevie-petey]

episode two: trick or treat, freak

 “Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?” Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,” “It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.” “I…” You can’t.  Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

Summary: you and nancy have a bonding session in the library (kinda hot tbh), billy gives jonathan and steve a common cause to unite on: Protect Y/N, you're a chauffeur to a very sad steve harrington, and dustin uses will's trauma to his advantage.

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight sexual harassment (billy corners reader and is gross), cursing, alcohol

Words: 7.9k

Before you swing in: hello ! new chapter, we've arrived at halloween !! i finally get to have a fun authors note comment: i crashed my car lol. i'm fine tho and i hope yall enjoy and like what ive done and changed a bit with this episode. i had fun coming up with costume ideas for the reader, i think the character fits her well :) and before i go: i start school next week, so updates will def be coming a bit slower after this. anyways, happy reading !

-

The Henderson house is pure chaos morning of Halloween. 

Dustin is running around the house, screaming about how his costume has to be absolutely perfect and that if you don’t hurry up with the jack-o-lantern pancakes then he’s going to just leave without eating breakfast. Meanwhile your mother is running after him, straightening his suit and tidying his hair. 

“The pancakes are almost done, my god.” You flip the last pancake, but in your rush the jack-o-lantern’s smile turns into more of a grimace, but hey, food is food. You quickly set Dustin’s plate down on the table and practically shove him into the seat. 

“Eat.”

“But my proton blaster–”

“Is on the steps, I’ll grab it. Eat, I want pictures with you.” You kiss the top of your brother’s head and then run over to grab his costume’s prop. 

“I’m thirteen now, I don’t need my sister doting on me–” Dustin complains, but then his eyes land on the mini Reese’s Pieces you’ve decorated his pancakes with and quickly changes his tone. “Oh! Candies! Yummy!”

You laugh at him and bring his backpack over. The Ghostbusters matching costume idea that boys have planned for today makes you want to just sweep them all into your arms and kiss their tiny little faces. They may be getting older with crushes and angsty feelings, but they’re still the same nerdy little boys you met when you were twelve. 

Dustin wolfs down his pancakes and your mom prepares her camera. You woke up earlier than usual this morning specifically so that you could make Dustin’s annual Halloween pancakes and then take pictures of him with his costume on. As soon as he’s done eating, you and your mom whisk him towards the fireplace for pictures. 

“Oh, I want to see those pearls!” Your mother squeals as she takes a million pictures of Dustin. When he smiles, she loses her mind. “Yeah! Lovely, I love it!”

You’re just as ecstatic as your mom. “Who you gonna call Dustin?”

“Ghostbusters!” He sings along, holding up his proton blaster with an even wider smile on his face. 

It’s a happy morning. 

Dustin puts on a show as he poses for your mom, and you even join in for some. Sure, you aren’t in costume, but who knows how many more mornings like these you have left? Dustin is getting older, all the boys are, so you plan on cherishing these mornings for as long as possible. 

You and Dustin are giggling as you now stand back to back, him holding his blaster and you holding up finger guns, and your mom is taking multiple final pictures when Jonathan arrives. He knocks on the door before letting himself in. When he sees you and Dustin posing, he starts loudly belting the Ghostbusters song. 

“God, bee. At least let my coffee kick in before you subject me to your horrible singing.” You playfully groan, grabbing your own backpack and pancakes to eat on the road. 

Jonathan ignores your teasing and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Nice costume, bud.”

Dustin, seemingly still holding a grudge against the guy after your conversation from last night, slaps his hand away and glares at him. “Don’t mess up the hair.”

Your brother proceeds to stare Jonathan down, gives him an “I’m watching you” gesture, and then walks out the front door without any further words. You, Jonathan, and your mom all stand in the living room in varying states of emotions. You’re trying not to laugh at your brother’s antics, your mom is happily looking at the photos she took, and Jonathan is standing there in complete confusion. 

“What was that about?” He asks you, slightly hurt by Dustin’s rebuff. 

“Shhh,” you hand him a plate of pancakes and then walk towards the front door. “Let’s get to school, bee.”

– 

At school, the mullet guy from yesterday finds you at your locker as soon as Jonathan has walked away. The two of you had been running behind schedule, so you’d told Jonathan to head to first period so at least he’d be on time while you tried to find your history textbook. 

As you’re digging through your locker, the mullet guy stalks up behind you. 

“I never got your name,” he says with a breathy voice, standing way too close behind you. 

You straighten your back, but don’t turn around. You know that if you do, the guy will only get a kick out of having your face close to his. “You never asked.”

“So there’s some sass to you underneath all that sweetness.” His breath hits the back of your neck and you shiver, but in a way that makes you feel dirty and unclean. 

“What do you want?” You ask the guy, your fingers wrapping around the textbook that you’ve finally found. If needed, you’re sure it’ll make a handy weapon. It’s only you and the guy in the hallway. Everyone else has holed up in class and you’re now regretting sending Jonathan away. You feel trapped, vulnerable, and you hate it. 

Mullet man chuckles deeply, his voice reverberating against your back. “Nothing yet. Just thought I’d introduce myself to such a pretty face.” 

You don’t say anything, your fingers only tighten around your textbook. If he gets any closer, you’ll swing. 

Though you can’t see him, you can feel his eyes flicker to your textbook and he lets out another cruel laugh. “Loosen up, sweetheart, I won’t hurt ya.” You don’t move, and he seems to get another kick out of this. “My name is Billy. Remember that for me, alright?”

Finally Billy steps away from you and you slowly release all the tension that’s built up within you. You still don’t turn around, he hasn’t left yet, but your hands are shaking a bit and you feel unsteady. 

“Would you do me a favor, Billy?” Your voice is steady, there’s no trace of the fear within you.

“I’m listening,” Billy is practically purring and you want to gag at how much his cockiness oozes around you. 

You turn, now finally facing him, and slam your textbook against Billy’s chest. “Learn some fucking personal space.” 

Billy’s only reaction is a smile, which only makes you more uncomfortable, but you refuse to show him this. Instead, you square your shoulders and walk towards your first class. You’ve dealt with assholes in the past; you’ve known Steve Harrington since you were twelve. But Billy is different. 

You’re not sure if you want to find out just how different he is from Steve. 

– 

Another small highlight of your school year so far has been your study sessions in the library with Nancy resuming. The two of you had drifted apart this summer, you just rarely ever saw the girl in between your hectic work schedule and her dates with Steve, but from the first day of junior she’s helped you with your math equations and you’ve helped her with her English essays. 

It’s a good trade off and you’ve enjoyed spending time with the girl. Unlike last year, Jonathan doesn’t join anymore. He can’t be too close with her now that she’s back with Steve. So, it’s just you and her for an hour every day during study hall. It’s nice, if you’re being honest.

Today though there’s something off with Nancy. 

She’s been tapping her pencil on the table for the last few minutes. Right before you can politely ask her to stop, the tip of the pencil snaps in half. She sighs. “Shit,” 

“There’s a sharpener over by the window,” you point towards the general direction. “Sharpen your pencil before these equations officially end my life.”

Nancy laughs, excusing herself and walks over to the sharpener. 

You focus back on your homework, the equations swimming around in your brain. It’s not that you’re necessarily bad at math, but you’re no whiz at it either. You get lost in the practice problems, erasing and re-erasing frequently, and you don’t realize just how long Nancy has been gone until she returns. She sits down, and you’re about to make a horrible joke about how stupid it is to find x, when you notice how shaken Nancy looks. 

“Woah, hey.” You set your pencil down and turn your attention to Nancy. “Are you okay? You look upset.” 

Nancy looks towards one of the library’s private study rooms and you see Steve’s retreating figure. You gather that something’s happened between them, but it confuses you because they’ve been nothing but lovey dovey ever since they got back together. What could possibly cause strife between them? 

“C’mon, you can talk to me. I’m known for my fantastic advice.” You probe again, and this time Nancy lets out a soft chuckle. 

“It’s… complicated.” 

“Take all the time you need. I’ve been stuck on question five for like, twenty minutes now. Any distractions are welcomed.” 

Now Nancy lets out a genuine laugh and you find yourself laughing as well. The storminess behind her eyes from earlier has lessened, she looks more relaxed now. Once she’s done laughing, she takes a deep breath and starts from the beginning. “Steve and I have been having dinner with Barb’s parents.”

When Barb’s name leaves Nancy’s lips, you feel your stomach twist with guilt. Had you known this would be about Barb, you wouldn’t have pestered Nancy so much into speaking. You know how much she misses her best friend still, no one blames her. 

“Well that sounds nice,” you try to comfort. “I’m sure they appreciate your company.”

Nancy bites her lip and looks away from you. “They wouldn’t if they knew Steve and I killed Barb.”

Shock washes over you. “Can I ask for some context?”

“Steve and I… When I forced Barb to come to his stupid party with me, we–we left her alone that night. By the pool…” Nancy’s voice cracks, and you grab her hand to encourage her to keep going. “We went upstairs to have sex, and Barb–she didn’t want me to leave her alone but I–I did and–”

You remember the photos Jonathan took last year, specifically the one where Barb had been sitting all by herself along the pool’s edge. Behind her had been a shadowy figure, a monster you soon would learn was from an alternate dimension with an intent to kill. 

“You think Barb died because you left her alone to go have sex with Steve.” You finish for Nancy, her tears rendering her unable to say more. 

She nods, looking away again as more tears stream down her face. You feel horrible for her, knowing first hand just how cruelly guilt can eat away at someone. Jonathan doesn’t know this, but you still think you’re the reason Will disappeared last year. You were the one who left him alone that night. If you had been there, if you had dropped him off at the Byers’ doorstep, you’re sure that he would’ve never ended up facing the horrors that he did. 

As for Nancy, you understand everything she’s feeling and more. It isn’t fair how one simple choice, one moment of selfishness, can lead to such tragedy and pain. 

Cautiously, you ask Nancy a question. “Does Steve know about the guilt you feel?” 

“He knows, but he doesn’t understand.” Nancy’s voice laces with grief and bitterness. “He found me by the pencil sharpener. There was this girl, she looked so much like Barb and I just… I zoned out. I was stuck there, thinking about her, when he found me.” 

“Did he notice you were upset?”

“Of course he noticed. He’s Steve, I could shed a single tear and he’d be all over me like I’m some baby.” Nancy scoffs, which makes you frown. You’re not sure what’s so wrong with that, having someone so attuned to your emotions because they love you that deeply. 

You push aside your thoughts, however. “What happened, then?”

“We went into a study room and I snapped.” Nancy’s close to tears again. “I just… I want to tell Barb’s parents what really happened. They’re selling their house, Y/N. They’re selling their own home to afford this private detective who promised them he’d find out what happened to her. What–what kind of person would I be if I let my best friend’s parents go bankrupt for being worried about their only child?”

“Nancy…”

“And Steve, he just… He told me it was a bad idea, that–that our families could get hurt and all that bullshit, but what am I supposed to do? I’m trying to figure something out, to fix this, and Steve just wants to go to some stupid party and pretend everything is okay?” Nancy is almost shouting now, and you nervously look around to make sure you're not disturbing anyone. It’s still a library, after all.

Nancy takes a few seconds to collect herself, to steady her breathing and control her anger. You let her take all the time she needs, and when she seems calm enough, you speak. “I understand where you’re coming from and why you’re upset. What happened to Barb is despicable, but… Well, I also agree with Steve.” 

“Y/N–”

“No, okay. Listen for a second,” you pause, trying to figure out exactly how to say what you’re thinking. “I think Steve means well, he doesn’t have a malicious bone in that silly body. The Halloween party can be a good thing for you if you let it, a way to destress. You have to move on, you have to allow yourself to move on.”

Nancy tries to argue some more but you continue. “I understand your guilt better than anyone else, I was the one who lost Will that night. But we all signed those contracts, Nancy. If we told anyone what really happened to Barb… It wouldn’t be fair to everyone who gets hurt, all our family members, because we broke a legal oath. You understand that, right?”

“I understand, but it’s not fucking fair.” Nancy’s eyes have a determination in them that startles you. You’ve always known that she was fierce, but seeing the edge in her eyes almost scares you. She’s angry, more than you’ve ever seen her before. 

You sigh. “I know, I wish I could do more, but…”

Nancy nods, understanding that there’s not much else you guys can do. You hate to let her down like this, you know she needs to hear something else, to feel supported, but you don’t know what else to tell her. 

Steve’s right in his own way, and so is Nancy. 

“Can you at least come to the party tonight?” Nancy softly pleads. “It’s just, I’ll feel more comfortable with you there, like I’m less crazy… I mean, that is if you even want to come and–”

“Of course I’ll come, Nance.” You don’t even hesitate to promise her this, nor do you realize that you’ve just called her “Nance”. It slipped from your tongue naturally, as if solidifying your friendship with the girl. You hate parties and loud crowds, but if Nancy needs you there by her side, to hold her hand and remind her of how brave she is, then you’ll happily do so. 

Nancy sinks into her seat, relieved. “Thank you, I owe you one.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Nancy throws a piece of paper at you and you dodge it, throwing your pencil at her in retaliation. The two of you break out into a fit of giggles until the librarian eventually snaps at you guys and reminds you to be quiet. 

You reluctantly get back to work, and as you’re writing down more complex equations, you notice that there’s still a far off look in Nancy’s eyes. You know that she’s still thinking about Barb, the guilt eating away at her, and you know that the topic is far from settled.

–  

Halloween has arrived when Jonathan drops you off at home from school. There’s already kids milling around up and down your block in an assortment of costumes, all squealing with joy as they collect their candy. 

“Meet you in two hours?” You ask Jonathan as you unbuckle your seatbelt. 

“Yeah, but remember that I’m not wearing a costume.”

“C’mon, bee! It’s Halloween, where’s your holiday spirit?”

Jonathan groans. “Nag at me all you want, I’m not dressing up. I will, however, offer to be your arm candy.” 

“That’s the spirit!” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek and run out of the car and straight into your house. You have two hours to wrap up goodie bags for the neighborhood kids and then get dressed in your costume. It’ll be a tight schedule, but luckily you’re off of work tonight. 

It takes you about an hour to assort all your gift bags, separating the boys’ bags from the local kids’ bags, and before you know it you’ve successfully hand packaged goodie bags for an entire army. Once you’re done, you run to your room and throw on your costume. The dress slips over your head and settles gently over you.

You stand in front of your mirror and smile. 

It’s perfect. 

You’re going as Princess Buttercup tonight for Halloween. You read the Princess Bride around the end of summer and quickly fell in love with Buttercup. You’re not sure if you fell in love with the character because you read the book right after pushing Steve away, or because you saw yourself in Buttercup, but you came to adore her. 

Buttercup may have been a bit ditzy, but she loved with everything within her, and with such a passion, that you couldn’t help but admire her. It was her love for others that ultimately drove the story further, and you think there’s something beautiful about that. 

The red dress fits perfectly around you and you grab the gold chain that will serve as your belt. Once you’ve secured it around yourself, you place Buttercup’s golden circlet around your head. The costume had been pricier than you would’ve preferred, but as you stand in front of the mirror, you truly do feel like a princess. 

Your bee necklace, a wonderful gift from Jonathan, catches light from your window and you smile, bringing your fingers up to the pendant. It’s the only jewelry you need.

“Y/N! Are you almost done? Will radioed that they’d be here soon.” Dustin pounds on your door. 

You fling the door open. “I’m done, I just need to put on some makeup.”

Your brother makes a face as he walks into your room and plops himself down onto the beanbag. “You own makeup?”

“Yes, dear brother. I’d wear it more often if I had the time, but between herding you around and my school assignments, I can’t.” You dig through your makeup bag, opting for just mascara and a shimmery pearl eyeshadow. You’ll put on your lipstick in the car to save some time. 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Jonathan, does it?”

You roll your eyes at Dustin. “No, believe it or not I can choose to do things without the influence of others.”

“Hmm, alright. Hurry up though, Mike had this awesome plan to hit up every house with the big candy bars and–”

“Dustin!” You throw a pillow at the boy, shutting him up. “Shush so I can focus.”

He grumbles but remains silent, now watching as you put your makeup on. It’s been a while since you’ve last worn any, so you’re slower than usual. Just as you’re finishing up your mascara, a car honks outside. 

Dustin runs out the room and you quickly grab your lipstick and follow after him. You’re wearing your mother’s mary janes again and they pinch your feet as you run, but whatever. You feel pretty tonight, you’re somebody else for now, a princess free from any burdens and stress. 

Jonathan is standing outside his car, waiting for you, and when you see him you practically fling yourself in his arms. “You dressed as Westley!”

He spins you around a bit, his plastic sword hitting against his leg. “You wanted me to wear a costume, right?”

You nod, inspecting his costume with glee. He looks amazing, dressed in Westley’s iconic all black attire, his sword by his side, and a mask tied loosely around his neck. To anyone else, Jonathan would look like a regular guy with an affinity for black, but to you, he was dressed as your knight in shining armor. 

He’s the Westley to your Princess Buttercup. 

Jonathan kisses your knuckles. “Well then, as you wish.”

His words are smooth velvet against your skin, they warm you as the late October air encases you. As you wish, words that became their own I love you within the book. A promise, similar to the one Jonathan made you last year in the passenger seat of his car, pinkies intertwined. 

Something stirs within you, seeing Jonathan’s proud smirk on his face because he’s once again managed to surprise you, and the feeling is sickly sweet like syrup. It runs through you slowly, covering every inch of you, and you bask in it.

For now, he’s still yours. 

“Can we go now? You guys are gross.” Dustin calls from the car, annoyed. 

You and Jonathan spring apart in embarrassment. He laughs, rubs the back of his neck, and tells you, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Why thank you,” you curtsy. “You look rather dashing yourself, good sir.”

“I wasn’t kidding. You look… you’re beautiful.” The sincerity in Jonathan’s voice cuts through you, it cuts through everything between you, and you can only smile. 

“Thanks, bee.” You try to keep your voice playful, light and airy as always. “Now, open my door like the brave hero you’re dressed as.” 

Jonathan opens your door with a bow, causing you to laugh. You’re sitting in the backseat with Dustin, Will is in the passenger seat, and once you’ve buckled up, Will spins around in his seat to talk to you as Jonathan starts the car.

“Do you think it’s lame that you and Jonathan trick-or-treat with us?

You blink. “What did I miss?”

“I think it’s kinda lame,” Dustin voices next to you, but he lets out a pained squeak after you’ve elbowed his ribs. 

Jonathan turns onto the main road and scoffs at the boys. “You think we’re lame?”

“No, but…” Will sinks into his seat, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with the strap of his bag. He’s nervous. “It’s not like Nancy’s coming to watch over Mike, you know?”

Jonathan’s silent, and you catch his eye in the rear view mirror. You know what he’s thinking: Will has been having even more problems in school, he’s sick of being babied, and yet here you guys are, babying him. 

You sigh. “Look, Will. We like trick-or-treating with you guys, we don’t go are your babysitters. We go because it’s fun and I get to enjoy free candy as a sixteen year old.” 

Will looks out the window and doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said. You sigh again, knowing that nothing will appease him. He’s only allowed you to see a small portion of how much he’s struggled this year, but you can see his foundations crumbling. 

How is he expected to adapt if you and everyone around him refuse to let him do so?

You catch Jonathan’s eye again in the rear view mirror and he seems to be thinking the same thing. 

Mike and Lucas run out the Wheeler’s house as soon as you guys park in the driveway. Dustin immediately bolts out the door to greet them, obviously uncomfortable with all the tension, leaving you and Jonathan with Will.

Jonathan looks at you one last time and you nod your head in encouragement. He has to do this, he has to let Will grow on his own. 

“Hey, listen.” Jonathan says, stopping Will from leaving. “If I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?”

Will’s face lights up. “Yeah! Yeah, totally.”

“And be back at Mike’s by 9:00.”

“9:30?”

You reach over and pat Will’s back. “Now you’re pushin’ it, buddy.”

“What Y/N said. Be back by 9:00.” Jonathan instructs, but there’s a fond smile on his face. “Deal?”

“Deal!”

The brothers shake on it and you watch them with a smile. Jonathan hands Will one of Bob’s cameras and makes a poor Dracula joke and you love these boys so much. You wave goodbye to Will as he quickly gets out of the car and runs over to his friends. There’s a new skip in his step, he’s happier than you’ve seen him in a while.

“Alright,” you crawl over the passenger seat and plop yourself in rather ungracefully. “I’d say that went well.”

“We made the right choice, right?”

“I hope so.”

Jonathan sighs and watches the kids, who have now started hitting each other with their candy bags. You flip down the windscreen and use the small mirror in it to apply your lipstick. When Jonathan sees what you’re doing, he does a double take.

“Wait, are you putting on lipstick?”

“Mhm,” you knit your brows together, focused. “We’re going to a party.”

“We are?”

“Nancy begged me to come, and we just left the boys to go trick-or-treating on their own, so what else are we supposed to do tonight?”

“Nancy begged you to come–”

You finish your lipstick and flick Jonathan’s nose to shut him up. “Stop asking so many questions and just start the car, doofus.”

– 

The Halloween party is in full swing by the time you and Jonathan arrive. There’s a bunch of drunk teens in an array of costumes, ranging from classic heroes to dumb movie references, and the music is so loud you could hear it while you were still five blocks away. 

Jonathan parks the car and looks around wearily. “Are we really doing this?”

“Unfortunately I hate disappointing people, so yeah. We are.”

“One day your people pleasing needs will get you in trouble.”

“I will stab you with your plastic sword.”

“So sweet to me,” Jonathan quips, which you roll your eyes at. 

As you’re walking to the front door, you hear a crowd chanting Billy’s name. You freeze, knowing it could only be that awful mullet guy from earlier, and quickly shove Jonathan inside the house. 

“Who’s Billy?” He asks, confused.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, let’s try to find Nancy–”

“Nice costume.” A girl dressed in goth attire interrupts you, her eyes only on Jonathan. 

Oh great. Another girl interested in Jonathan. 

Jonathan looks between you and the girl. “Huh?” 

“Nice costume. Going as a goth with a sword?”

“Actually,” you step in front of Jonathan now, forcing the girl to acknowledge your presence. “We’re matching. He’s Westley, I’m Princess Buttercup. Do you like it?”

The goth girl rolls her eyes. “Yeah, totally.” She steps past you and faces Jonathan again. “I’m Samantha.”

Jonathan is again looking between you and the girl, this time with even more fear and confusion on his face, and you almost want to laugh at him in pity. He’s never had a girl so blatantly hit on him, it’s almost hilarious if you ignore the fact that you’re in love with him. 

You leave Jonathan to handle the situation himself, scanning the room for Nancy. When you finally spot her, your heart sinks. She’s dancing with Steve, who looks fucking criminally good in his costume. You’re not sure who he’s dressed as, but he puts his Raybans in his mouth and smirks at Nancy and suddenly you understand why so many girls whisper in the halls about his lips. 

Nancy looks even better, her white blouse accentuating her beauty even more. She’s dancing with her arms around Steve and now you suddenly really want a drink. Seems like they’ve made up, then. 

Right as you’re about to pull Jonathan away from that Samantha girl and call it quits for the night, defeated and pride wounded, you see Steve and Nancy begin to argue over by the punchbowl.

Shit. 

You head towards them, shoving past hoards of people who seem to refuse to move. Nancy sees you approaching and only seems to become more upset. Her movement is unsteady, her eyes droopy and glossed over, and even before you walk up to her you know she’s heavily drunk. She’s in a tug of war with Steve and a cup. It’s clear he’s trying to cut off her alcohol intake.

“Hey, Nancy is everything okay–” Your words are cut off as punch splashes all over her white blouse.

Everyone around the couple gasps, and you wince at all the attention. Everyone stares between you, Steve, and Nancy. You quickly find some napkins and begin blotting at her blouse, trying to get as much of the punch out of it, but she drunkenly bats you away. 

“Don’t need help,” she slurs, but you shush her. 

“I got it, why don’t we go get some water?”

Steve steps in front of you now, aware of the fact that everyone is still staring, and says his first words to you in months. “She’s my girlfriend, I’ll take care of her. Just… just go, Y/N.” 

He dismisses you with a wave and you feel hurt wash over you. He hadn’t even spared you a single glance, he just treated you like some annoying fly in his way. You watch, defeated, as Steve guides Nancy to a room and you’re left alone at a party you hadn’t even wanted to go to in the first place. 

How fun. 

You crumble up one of the napkins in your hand and will away your anger. You don’t deserve to feel angry at Steve’s actions, you’re the one who was so dismissive of him in the first place. He’s just following along, doing what you’ve forced him to do. 

As you’re lost in thought, Billy corners you in the kitchen.

“We meet again, sweetheart.” His breath reeks of alcohol and you cringe, the smell burning your nose. 

“Didn’t I tell you to learn some goddamn personal space?” 

Billy laughs dryly, stepping forward every time you take a step back. Too late, you realize what he’s doing. Before you can stop it, he has your back pressed against a nearby wall. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You look around, but everyone who had been in the kitchen earlier seems to have left or are far too drunk to realize what’s happening. Billy is peering over you and every part of you wants to run away, to cower. You’ve never been able to handle aggressive men well, no matter how much of a front you put on around Lonnie, you always trembled when he was near. 

Billy is no different, and he sees your unease. “Aw, is the princess nervous?”

“I’m surprised Max taught you what a princess looks like.”

At the mention of Max’s name, Billy’s cocky grin slips. Confusion masks his face now, making him appear more human than obnoxiously handsome. “So you know my little sister?”

You try to shove past him, but Billy plants his feet down and places both arms against the wall, trapping you. He’s surrounded you, he wants a reaction out of you. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to steady your heartbeat and appear indifferent. 

“I have my ways,” you shrug, but your heartbeat still pounds rapidly. 

Billy raises an eyebrow. “Pretty and intelligent. Why, look at you. I’m impressed, and yet I still don’t know your name.”

You try again to move, but Billy leans his head down and brings his lips to your ear to whisper, “I’ll beg for it, if you want me to.”

“Get off–” He’s too close. He’s too fucking close and his lips against your ear makes you want to throw up, you don’t like this and you feel so fucking pathetic being cornered by such an egotistical asshole. 

“Tell me your name, and I’ll go.” There’s a smile in Billy’s voice, you can hear it without even having to look, and it enrages you. You fucking hate men like him. 

“Just get the fuck off of me–” You’ve closed your eyes now as you shove harshly against his chest.

Suddenly there’s a thud, a loud “oomph”, and a collective gasp from onlookers at the party. Your hands meet the air, there’s now no one there to push against. Slowly, open your eyes. There, standing in front of you, is Steve holding a very angry Jonathan back while Billy is on the ground.

Jonathan yanks his arm free from Steve and stands over Billy, who is laying on the ground with yet another unnerving smile on his face. Your friend shakes his fist out, which you now see is red, Billy’s face showcases a matching mark. “She told you to get off of her.” 

A silence falls over the crowd.

Billy slowly stands up, wipes himself off, and then takes a bow. “Not bad, loner boy.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to him, but Steve grabs his shirt and shakes his head. “He’s not worth it, man.” 

“And what do you know about worth, Harrington?” Billy chuckles, now practically in Steve’s face. “Where’s that little girlfriend of yours? You should go ask her what she thinks you’re worth.” 

Steve’s face hardens, but you can see dried tears in his eyes. Seeing him about to crumble, you step between the boys. “Enough.”

They look at you, but you ignore them and then wave to the crowd of people still watching. “Show’s over! Go back to drinking away your sorry fucking lives.”

Jonathan pulls you close to him. “Bug, are you okay? Did he hurt you? We need to go home, I’ll bake you brownies and we can just–”

Jonathan’s concerned rambling is enough to make you smile, albeit faintly. “I’m fine, bee.”

Billy observes the interaction, he notices how Steve’s eyes flicker between your interlocked hands with Jonathan and the way your hair frames your pretty face. He sees it all, and he understands exactly what’s happening here. 

“Oh, Harrington.” Billy can’t wait to see what happens next. “You’re fucked.”

Steve watches as Billy leaves, confused by his words but too tired to think much of them. He’s had the worst fucking night of his life. His girlfriend just told him she doesn’t love him, then he came outside to see Billy pressing himself against you like some fucking creep. He hadn’t even gotten to help you, Jonathan had beaten him to it. All Steve could do was hold the guy back afterwards. 

Now Jonathan is holding your hands and whispering comforting words to you and you’re dressed in Steve’s favorite color, your lips an even prettier red, you’re wearing a goddamn tiara on your head like the princess you truly are, and Steve’s had just about enough of tonight. 

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Steve tells you tiredly. He then turns to Jonathan. “Uh, Nance and I sorta… Can you just, give her a ride home? She doesn’t…”

Steve’s words catch in his throat and you grab his hand before you can stop yourself. “He’ll take her, won’t you, Jonathan?”

Jonathan stumbles over his words. “Sure, uh. Yeah, I can do that… What about you, though?”

You think about your conversation with Nancy earlier, how she seemed so upset with Steve, and how not even ten minutes ago they’d been fighting over by the punchbowl. There’s a hurt between them, one you think may be too big to patch up with just one conversation, but Jonathan doesn’t know all of this. 

“I’ll drive Steve home.”

Both boys stare at you like you’re insane, and honestly? You can’t blame them. 

You haven’t spoken to Steve in months, and Jonathan knows this better than anyone. 

“Y/N,” Steve lowers his voice. “I haven’t had anything to drink, there’s no need–”

“Too bad. I’m taking you home. Jonathan, go find Nancy and make sure she gets back okay.”

Jonathan and Steve try to argue, but you yank Steve’s hand and make him come with you. It’s long past time the two of you had a talk, anyways.

– 

When you exit the house, the weight of everything that’s just happened catches up to you. Your skin still feels raw, Billy’s presence lingering on you. Steve’s hand is warm in yours, but he isn’t holding on the way you secretly hoped he would. Jonathan’s confused and concerned eyes remain in the back of your mind, the image of him standing alone in the party makes you feel guilty. 

But you have to do this. You’re tired of being a coward.

Steve is silent as he guides you to his car. He’s parked pretty far, which you hadn’t been expecting. “What, do you not get a special parking spot as King Steve?”

He ignores your attempt at a joke and instead drops your hand. 

Okay. You deserved that. 

When you get to his car, Steve throws you the keys and silently gets into the passenger seat. You inhale, willing this to end well, and get in the driver’s seat. You start the car and the engine warms your fingertips. 

You start to drive. 

Steve is looking out the window, and you’ve never seen him appear so small. He’s closed into himself, his shoulders are hunched and his carefree smile from earlier is gone. 

“Not to make this awkward, but I kinda don’t know where you live.” You break the silence.

“Make a left up here.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight–”

“Why do you only ever care about me when I’m some kicked fucking puppy?”

Steve’s words are vicious, and you flinch at his tone. “You know that’s not true,”

“It’s not?” He scoffs at you. “Then explain what happened this summer.”

“I…” You can’t. 

Steve sees your reluctance to say anything and lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, whatever. Some real fucking friend you were.”

You take a shaky breath. You knew this would be hard, but it still hurts more than you thought it would’ve. While you can’t tell Steve everything, you can offer him a half truth. It’s all you can afford, and it isn’t nearly half of what he deserves, but it’s all you can do. “I got scared.”

Your confession causes Steve to turn to you. “Scared?”

“Yeah, scared.”

“Gee, Y/N. That really explains a ton.”

You’re losing him again, so you offer him more. “I’m sorry, Steve. I really am. It’s just… I got scared, I’ve never been good at letting people in. I know it doesn’t excuse my actions, and you didn’t deserve any of it, but you just… You scared me.”

Steve is silent again, only mumbling a quiet, “Turn right after this light.”

“Look,” you push down your fear, you need him to hear you. “You came crashing into my life in such a violent way, and it became the best goddamn thing that happened to me. There you were, spending every day at my job just to talk to me. You asked me questions about myself and noticed things no one else had before and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

You look over at Steve and soften your voice, putting every ounce of your guilt and sincerity into your words. “I missed you.”

“Missed?” There’s something in Steve’s voice that you can’t quite decipher, it’s almost too delicate to examine. 

“Miss. I miss you,” you correct, and it takes everything within you not to confess more. To tell him you miss how his eyes turn a warm toffee in the late afternoon light, that you miss his obsession with his mom’s banana bread and that you have a recipe at home that you never got to make for him. You almost tell him that even though you pulled yourself away, you can’t seem to separate him from you. He’s everywhere. 

But what you can’t tell Steve, what would break you if he ever found out, is that you’ve come to love how he’s everywhere.

Steve is silent, and you swallow down your tears. It wasn’t enough, but at least you tried. 

As you turn into his driveway, Steve finally speaks. “All my life, all I’ve ever wanted was for people to like me.”

“Steve…”

“And every time I think someone finally likes me, I’m wrong. They leave me. I mean, you left me without a fucking word, Nancy lied about loving me, and my bullshit friends at school have replaced me with Billy.” 

Nancy lied about loving him?

Steve looks down at his hands, his eyelashes are wet with fresh tears. “I don’t know what I keep doing wrong.” 

You throw yourself across the car’s console and wrap yourself around the boy. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Steve places one arm around you, then slowly he places his other, and for the first time in months you’re finally back in his arms. He’s surrounded in you again, and he never, ever wants to let you go. 

“You won’t leave me again?”

Steve asks this so softly, as if too scared to bring the words into the light and risk them scaring you away. You tighten your arms around him and bury your nose into his neck, his cologne making your brain dizzy. “Never. 

And it’s enough for now. 

The pieces settle between you and Steve. Something clicks into place and you know that he feels it, too. He tightens his own arms around you, draws small circles against your back, and you stay like that for what feels like hours. 

Eventually the two of you break apart and head into his house. He offers you something warm to drink, but you decline. It’s late, you should be heading home soon. You ask Steve where his phone is and then call Jonathan, telling him to come get you from Steve’s.

Jonathan doesn’t ask any questions, his own voice sounding off on the phone. You know that tomorrow you’ll have to explain to him what happened with Steve, and he’ll have to explain what’s happened with Nancy. But tonight, you both settle on ignoring the topic for now. 

Steve waits with you downstairs for Jonathan. 

“If we’re going to be friends again, then I demand my nickname.” 

You look up at the boy and laugh. “What if I told you I still haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?” Steve bats his eyelashes at you and you shove him away with another laugh.

“Hm,” you think for a moment, reveling in the simplicity between you two again. “It’s lovely. That’s all I can say.”

Steve makes a face. “Lovely? That’s all I get?”

“Mhm.” You poke his face. “For now, please just trust that I’ll stay.”

Steve looks away for a moment, and you admire his lovely side profile, before he finally seems to settle on his thoughts. “Fine, but I expect some type of baked good every day from here on out.”

“Deal.” You raise your pinky and offer it to Steve, who smiles and shakes his head, but wraps his own pinky around yours.

Steve’s eyes are still red, from exhaustion and heartbreak, and yours are probably no better. You know there’s so much the two of you have to face tomorrow morning, to talk about and deal with. Nancy, Jonathan, Billy. But for now, Steve’s pinky is around yours and you couldn’t ask for a better end to your night. 

It’s a start.

It’s all you could’ve asked for. 

Jonathan arrives later and waits in the car, seeming to sense that you want some privacy as you say goodbye to Steve. 

“That’s my ride.” You nudge him. “Oh, don’t think I forgot about the Nancy thing. We’ll talk about that tomorrow.”

“What–”

“We’re friends again and I nag all my friends about their emotions. You were spared last year, but this year? Buckle up, buddy.”

Steve lets out a tired laugh. “Do I have to sign another contract?”

“Nah, you just have to trust me.”

“I do.” He says, no ounce of hesitation. 

You squeeze his hand. “Then that’s all I need. Goodnight, Steve. Get some rest.”

Steve nods and watches as you walk towards Jonathan’s car. He stays outside for a while, long after the car has faded in the distance. The cold air makes him shiver, but after everything that’s happened tonight, he welcomes it. His mind is spinning, he’s not sure if he feels more heartbreak or relief, but he decides he doesn’t care. 

For now, he’s content. 

Now that he has you in his life again, no matter what happens between him and Nancy, he knows he’ll get through it with you holding his hand. 

– 

The drive home is quiet. Both you and Jonathan seem to be lost in your own thoughts. When you get to your house, you simply tell your friend, “Tomorrow. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow,”

Jonathan nods, his eyes as tired as yours. “Tomorrow.”

You walk inside your house and notice all the lights off. You’re home later than you originally planned, your mom must be asleep already. You kick off your shoes and sigh tiredly. Tonight has exhausted you. 

However, you feel bad about skipping out on the boys, so you walk towards Dustin’s room and quietly knock on the door to apologize. After a few knocks, Dustin cracks his door open. “Yes?”

“Hey, just wanted to ask how tonight…” You notice Dustin’s stance, how he seems to almost be trying to block your view of something. “Is everything alright?”

Your brother quickly repositions himself. “Fine! Nothin’ to see here!”

He’s definitely acting suspicious. 

“Open the door, show me what’s inside.”

You go to shove your way in, but Dustin scrambles and ends up shouting, “Will had another episode tonight!

“What?” You freeze. 

Dustin lets out a breath of relief. He knew using Will’s episode would be a good distraction from what he has in his room. “Will, he had another episode. He’s fine, though… Just thought you should know.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Actually,” Dustin lets out a yawn. “I’m kinda tired. Ya know, trick-or-treating is hard work. Can we just call it a night and talk about it tomorrow?”

“I mean, I guess?” Your list of things you need to talk about tomorrow keeps growing. 

“Sweet! Goodnight, Y/N!” And with that, Dustin slams his door in your face. He presses his back pressed against his door as he steadies his heartbeat. That was close, too close. After a couple seconds, he walks over to his turtle’s tank and greets Dart again. “Sorry buddy, had to get Y/N away. She’d freak if she found out about you.”

Dart lets out a small screech in response. 

“Wonder how long I can keep this from her.”

Meanwhile, you stand in the hall for a moment, completely bewildered as to what’s just happened. It feels like you missed a few important details. There’s something happening, but you have no idea what.

You go to your room and make a plan. Tomorrow, you’ll order a code blue with Dustin and demand information. For now, all you can do is get ready for bed and hope that whatever he’s hiding, it isn’t as monumental as El had been. 

Tonight, you go to bed thinking of Nancy and Steve, worried about them both.

-

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

A Very Supernatural Christmas | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: discussions of childhood trauma lol, discussions of religious trauma lololol, canon violence, canon gore, talking about Dean's deal sad face

Word Count: 7223

A/N: One of my favorite episodes of all time ever. I am so excited to share this with you guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. I love y’all!

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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In the middle of nowhere in Michigan, you and Dean posed as FBI agents investigating a holly jolly potential case. 

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds,” the woman before you shakily explained.

“Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof, and then, I heard Mike scream. And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

“And you didn't see any of it?” Dean questioned. 

She shook her head tearfully. “No, he was… he was just gone.”

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?” you asked. 

“That’s right,” she replied. 

“Does anybody else have a key?” you suggested. 

“My parents.”

“Where do they live?”

“Florida.”

Sam then walked out of the house. �� Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Dean told her. 

The three of you started down the steps. 

“Agents?” Mrs. Walsh called.

You turned to face her. 

“The police said my husband might have been kidnapped.”

“Could be,” Dean shrugged. 

“Then… why haven’t the kidnappers called? O-Or demanded a ransom? It’s three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?” she began to cry.

“We’re very sorry,” you said empathetically. You watched the distressed woman turn to go back inside, and the heavy Christmas wreath on the door clunked against the door when she shut it. 

“Find anything?” Dean asked Sam as the three of you walked away from the house. 

Sam sighed. “Stocking, mistletoe… this.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it into Dean’s hand. 

You inspected it. “A tooth?” you asked upon seeing the bloody bone. 

“Where was this?” Dean looked up at Sam and away from the tooth. 

“In the chimney,” Sam replied. 

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow,” Dean grimaced. 

“At least, not in one piece,” you winced. 

“Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—”

“We need to find out what dragged him up there,” Sam finished. 

***

Christmas had never been a completely happy time for you. Growing up Catholic, there was always a hint of, perhaps, fear that came with the holiday. The idea that Christ was supposed to come again, and his second coming would mean the end of the world was unsettling to you, even as an incredibly pious child. 

Working jobs around the holidays always managed to recreate that unsettled feeling for you. Something so gruesome like the case you were dealing with now around such a happy holiday always made you nostalgic for a childhood you never had: an innocent one. 

Around your motel room, Sam was pinning pictures of demons up while you researched on your laptop. The door opened, and Dean came inside. 

“So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?” Dean smirked, carrying a brown paper bag.

Sam mirrored Dean’s expression. “Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke.”

Dean looked confused, but you snickered. 

“Who?” Dean asked. 

“Dude,” you said, “Mary Poppins?”

“Who’s that?” 

“Oh, god, you’re hopeless,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month,” Dean explained. 

“The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?” Sam asked. 

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof,” Dean shrugged. “So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?”

“Actually, I have an idea,” Sam replied. “Uh, it's gonna sound crazy.”

“What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?” Dean deadpanned. 

“How ‘bout evil Santa,” you smirked.

Dean considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah… I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture,” Sam said while he showed Dean drawings of the creature. “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.”

“Saying what?” Dean looked incredulous. 

“Saying, back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” Dean snorted. “So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, ah, I’m just saying, that’s what the lore says.”

“Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember,” Sam sassed at his brother. 

Dean looked down, seeming to feel a little guilty. 

Finally, Sam sighed. “Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I gotta be wrong.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You and Sam were confused. 

“I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched,” Dean explained. 

“Where?” Sam asked. 

***

The place Dean was referring to was a cutesy little craft fair called “Santa’s Village.” Children played and people bustled around wearing Christmas costumes. 

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean remarked, looking around himself. 

“Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be,” Sam replied. 

“It’s a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year,” Dean suggested casually. 

You remained quiet, feeling almost sorrowful at his statement given he’d discussed bringing this up to Sam with you.  

“Have one what?”

“A Christmas.”

Sam scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sam,” you said, swallowing your emotions. 

“Yeah, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little,” Dean continued. 

“Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know,” Sam reminded his brother. 

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.”

“Whose childhood are you talking about?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Sam.”

“No! Just… no.”

You and Dean were both surprised by Sam’s petulance. “Alright, Grinch,” Dean snarked. He walked ahead, and you remained by his side. 

“What’s Sam talking about?” you asked quietly. 

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, Dad was out all the time, and Sammy and I fought… a lot… as kids, but I didn’t think it’d scar him.” 

You turned back to Sam who still seemed lost in thought. 

“Hey, Scrooge,” you called, which seemed to shake the younger brother out of his own head, “you comin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you.” He caught back up to you and Dean. 

“What are we looking for, again?” Dean asked him. 

“Um…” Sam trailed off, “lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.”

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa,” Dean said dryly. “Why the sweets?” 

“Think about it, Dee,” you replied. “If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer. Which is wrong on just… so many levels.”

Sam chuckled. 

“How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean questioned. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Dean turned toward a man dressed as Santa taking pictures with a child whose mother stood close by. “Maybe we do,” he noted.

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters were just about to confront and kill who you thought was your Krampus. Fortunately for the Santa actor from earlier in the day, you realized the man was just a lonely old creep. 

After an uncomfortable rendition of “Silent Night” that Dean led you and Sam in singing in an attempt to explain why you were in the creepy Santa’s house, you slumped down in the backseat of the Impala.

“Well, back to square one, I guess,” you sighed. “Also, Dean, couldn’t you have picked a song you actually knew the words to?”

“Hey, I did know the words,” he replied, beginning to drive off. 

“Yeah, all two of ‘em,” Sam chimed in. 

You giggled. “Hey, Sam?” you asked. 

“Hm?”

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

The younger brother sighed. “(Y/N)...”

Dean took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “I mean, I admit it. Y’know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.”

“ ‘Bumpy’?” Sam scoffed. 

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year,” Dean tried. 

“Look, Dean. If you and (Y/N) want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don’t involve me.” Sam shifted in his seat to face the dark night that had fallen outside of the car. 

Dean grumbled, “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and (Y/N) making cranberry molds.”

You knew Dean wasn’t actually opposed to just enjoying Christmas with you, but he wanted to involve his brother.

***

“Wanna smoke?” you asked Dean. 

Sam was still wide awake in his bed, and you and Dean had some things to talk about without the younger Winchester present. 

He nodded and followed you out of the room. 

Despite the lack of snow on the ground, you were bundled in one of Dean’s hoodies to protect you from the slight chill in the air.

“I think you’re turnin’ me into a fiend,” Dean commented as you lit your joint. 

“Well, I’d rather you smoke a plant than drown yourself in booze,” you replied, a slight tremble in your voice from the cold. 

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Dean began, taking the joint from you and looking at the ground, “you’ve got a real beautiful voice.”

You laughed softly and hopped up on the trunk of the Impala. “You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause you and Sam are terrible.”

“I’m serious,” he said, blowing the smoke at you playfully. 

You scrunched up your nose and shut your eyes to avoid the puff. When you reopened them, you found Dean staring at you with that confusing expression again. After all this time, you still couldn’t place what that look meant. 

“What?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 

He shook his head, still admiring you and smirking. “Nothin’.”

“So, do you want me to talk to Sam? About Christmas?” Dean’s intense stare was making you nervous, and you needed to break it up with the conversation you initially wanted to have with him. 

“Nah,” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You opened your arms to him and gestured for him to come lean against you. He turned his back to the Impala, and you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his shoulder before placing your chin on top of it. The two of you just sat like that in silence in the cold, enjoying each other’s company while getting lost in thought. 

“What was your Christmas like? As a kid, I mean?” Dean asked, breaking the silence. 

You picked your chin up off his shoulder and stuck your hands in your pockets. “Oh, gosh,” you sighed. “It was always a little less ‘candy canes and Rudolph’ and a little more ‘fear and condemnation’.”

Dean jumped up on the trunk next to you and turned, clearly a little surprised by your answer. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “Christmas always kinda felt like a threat to me. Y’know, ‘Jesus is gonna come again’ and all that.”

“That’s… weirdly dirty,” Dean commented. 

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. “Perv. Meaning Jesus is gonna come back to life and, like… destroy the planet. My mom always said Christmas was a reminder that this is not our true home.”

“This, as in, earth?” he asked, genuine intrigue in his eyes. 

You nodded. “And we’re all gonna end up being judged. And if you don’t believe or follow the commandments, you’re sentenced to Hell.”

“Jesus,” Dean grimaced. “That’s a little dark to be telling a kid.”

“Tell me about it,” you smirked. “But… if that’s the truth, at least we know I’ll be seeing you again.” You turned to him, smiling a little lopsidedly.

He tried to return your smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m scared, (Y/N).” 

You nodded. “I know. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. 

You took a moment to let his mind recover from his anxieties. “What were your Christmases like growing up? You said they were good, but you never told me why they were good.”

“Uh, let’s see,” Dean began, reflecting on something in his memory. “There was this one time when Dad was supposed to make it back from a hunting trip. He’d promised Sammy he’d be home for Christmas. But, uh, Dad never showed.”

You looked at him sadly. 

Dean’s eyes remained focused on his hands in his lap. “I was maybe twelve. Sammy was eight. And on Christmas Eve, while he was asleep, I went out and found this really nice house.”

“You did not!” you scolded playfully, knowing exactly where he was going with this. 

“I did,” Dean chuckled. “Only, I didn’t know they were chick presents. Sam was pissed when he got a Barbie instead of the green army men he’d been asking for.”

“You did the best you could,” you reminded him.

Dean shrugged. “And, uh, since he never made it back, Sam gave me the present he was planning on giving to Dad.” He thumbed the amulet around his neck and showed it to you. 

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled, a tinge of nostalgic sadness behind your smile. “My little brother and I always gave each other what we could. Normally, it was just stupid little things from the gas stations around or something.” You smiled, remembering your brother fondly. “When he was seven, Steven gave me a little bracelet. He stole it out of a girl’s backpack pocket when she was waiting for her parents to finish booking a room in the motel lobby. He was a great pickpocket; you guys would’ve gotten along great.”

Dean chuckled. 

“But anyway, uh, it was a little friendship bracelet. I was so upset when I grew out of it,” you said. “Biggest regret of my life is burning it with his body.”

Dean nodded somberly. “Why’d you do it?”

You shrugged. “I kept telling myself, ‘He doesn’t live in the stuff. Keeping his stuff doesn’t keep him alive.’ And I’d grown out of it, so I figured, I’d never have any use for it again. But, uh, I was an angry teenager. I was so angry at him for so long after he killed himself. I definitely threw the bracelet in the fire in a moment of anger.”

Dean just stared at you, and once again, you couldn’t read his expression. 

“You keep giving me that look,” you said, staring deeply into his beautiful eyes. 

“What look?” he asked. Dean clearly knew what you were talking about, as his face hadn’t really changed from the look in question; there was simply a slight tease behind his eyes on top of it. 

“That look,” you said, giggling. “It frustrates me so much ‘cause it’s, like, the only facial expression on the planet I can’t read.” “Then, I’m definitely not telling you what it means now,” Dean taunted, still smirking. 

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the car. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around to face him, putting you back on the trunk and standing between your legs. He kissed you deeply, hands eagerly trying to pull you closer despite there being no more room between the two of you. 

“Dean,” you said between kisses. “Dean—”

“What?” Dean pulled back just long enough to ask you and then returned to kissing you. 

“We have to go to bed now, c’mon,” you replied. 

“Aw, c’mon, not yet,” Dean groaned, trailing his lips down your neck. 

You sighed shakily at the feeling of his soft lips against the sensitive skin, and your eyes closed in content. “C’mon,” you whined. “I’m freezing.”

“Fine,” he groaned. 

***

The next day, another poor soul had gone missing. According to the son of the man who was abducted, Santa had dragged his father up the chimney. As you left the house, Sam noticed a wreath on the hearth he’d felt noteworthy enough to ask the grieving wife about. 

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean taunted, sauntering away from the woman’s house. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

“We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring his brother’s flippance.

“Where?” you and Dean asked in unison. 

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.”

Dean eyed Sam curiously. “I know. I was just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, ducking down into the Impala. 

***

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, dropping your head back.

Sam sat up from behind his laptop. “What, why?”

Dean turned to you from his spot on your shared bed as well. 

“That smell,” you said. “Guys, we’re not dealing with Krampus.” You laughed at your own stupidity. “I should’ve known it from the wreath on the door at the Walshes’ house!”

“(Y/N), would you cut to the chase?” Dean asked dryly. 

“It’s meadowsweet,” you revealed. 

Dean whistled mockingly. “Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare, and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore,” Sam replied. 

“Pagan lore?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Meadowsweet’s for human sacrifice. It’s kinda like chum for the gods. The gods are drawn to it, and they’d stop by and snack on the nearest human.”

“Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?” Dean wondered. 

“Almost every Christmas tradition is pagan, Dee,” you replied. 

“Okay, Ms. Catholic, I thought it was Jesus’s birthday,” Dean snarked, a smile playing on his lips.

“No, uh, I had to unlearn that when I left the Church. Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. Yule was the winter solstice festival the church stole and renamed ‘Christmas.’ ‘Cause, y’know, eurocentrism. Hooray,” you explained. 

Sam added, “The Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit; that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

“How do you know that? What are you two freaks gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” Dean remarked. 

Both of you rolled your eyes. 

“So, you really think we’re gonna be dealing with a pagan god?” The older brother quirked a brow. 

“Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, god of the winter solstice,” Sam noted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Dean huffed, “And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘Come kill us’.”

Dean deadpanned, “Great.”

“Wait, Hold Nickar makes sense, though,” you chimed in, something dawning on you. “Guess what he gives you in return?”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean smirked. 

You gave him a look. “Mild weather.”

Dean looked out of the window. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance,” shrugged Sam. 

“Do we know how to kill it yet?” Dean asked. 

“Have you met me? That’s all I’ve been looking for the past hour.”

“While you work on that—” Sam turned to his brother, “we got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“You think they’re selling them on purpose?” Dean questioned, sitting up on his bed.

“Feeding the victims to this thing?”

Sam sighed. “Let’s find out.”

“You keep workin’ your pagan-god-killin’ angle, (Y/N),” Dean told you, moving over to you. “Sam and I ’ll be back soon.” He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead, and your cheeks heated at the brief contact.

***

“How ‘re you supposed to kill a god, (Y/N)?” Bobby droned through the phone.

“I don’t know, dude, that’s what I’m asking you,” you sighed. “I mean, I’ve been pouring through this shit online for hours. I’m ready to pull my fucking hair out.”

“Lemme make a few calls, kid, and I’ll see what I can do,” Bobby said. 

“Thanks, Bobby. You’re the best.” You sat back in your chair and clicked your phone off. 

Almost as if on cue, Dean burst through the door with Sam trailing behind him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the older one drawled. “Got somethin’ for me?”

“I wish. Just sent Bobby lookin’,” you replied. “Got anything for me?”

“Actually, yeah,” Dean said. “That store we went to? Turns out, lady named Madge Carrigan gave ‘em to the store for free. How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?” 

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” Sam answered while you clacked away at your computer looking for Madge Carrigan’s home address. 

“Sounds pretty suspicious,” you said absentmindedly. 

“Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Dean laughed while he took his jacket off.

“You mean, the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Sam responded, an unimpressed expression crossing his features. 

“Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” He sat on the bed closest to you and went to lean over and look at your computer. 

Despite the fact that you were still on the phone, Sam asked Dean, “Alright, dude… What’s going on with you?”

You stopped typing, and both you and Dean sat up to face Sam. 

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden?” continued the brunet. “Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

“Why are you so against it?” Dean challenged. “I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

Sam’s voice became heavy with emotion. “No, that has nothing to do with it. I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s voice had less of an edge. “This is my last year.”

Sam huffed out a quick breath. “I know. That’s why I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay, when I know next Christmas, you’ll be dead.” The near-casualness Sam spoke about Dean’s almost-five-month-out deadline with made your breath catch in your throat. “I just can’t,” Sam finished, voice almost too quiet for you to hear. 

The three of you went silent. To distract yourself from the heaviness in the room, you went back to typing on your laptop to find Madge Carrigan’s address and any information on her that suggested she really was your bad guy. 

You could feel Dean staring at you, though, and you knew he needed you at that moment. So you shut your laptop and got into bed with him. He laid against your chest, and you kept your arms around him tightly. Soon, you drifted off to a dreamless sleep. 

***

The next day, you and Dean headed to the Carrigan’s home. Sam stayed behind to research and see if you had missed anything in your search the night before. The house you arrived at was decorated with cutesy Christmas decorations and screamed the 1950s “American dream.”

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?” Dean remarked, looking around. “Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” He rapped his knuckles against the door. 

A blonde, middle-aged woman in a sweater opened it. “Yes?” she answered sweetly. 

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths,” Dean said. 

“Why, yes I am,” she smiled widely. 

“Ha! Bingo.” Dean turned to you with a grin. 

“We just moved into the neighborhood,” you lied, gesturing between yourself and Dean, “and we were mingling with the Sylars the other day. They had one of your beautiful wreaths on their fireplace. He and I were immediately in love with it.”

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?” Mrs. Carrigan’s smile had not lessened since she opened the front door; it was creeping you out. 

“It is; it sure is,” you replied. “But the problem is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” she pouted. 

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?” Dean questioned.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

“Aww…” you whined, deflating. 

“Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?” your partner asked. 

A man who you assumed was Mr. Carrigan came down the staircase behind the woman as she answered, “Why, the smell, of course! I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

‘She�� already said that,’ you thought, but you kept the smile plastered on your face.

“What's going on, honey?” Mr. Carrigan asked his wife. You noticed his outfit of choice was a cardigan and slacks, and he held an old-fashioned pipe. The two reminded you very much of “Leave it to Beaver.”

“Well, just this nice couple asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine,” Mr. Carrigan affirmed. “Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” He held out a tin, and Dean took a piece. 

You gave him a harsh glare, preventing him from raising the brittle to his lips. Politely, you bid the couple goodbye and kept Dean from snacking while he started to drive.

As soon as you got out of the line of the Carrigans’ sights, you took the peanut brittle and chucked it out of the window. 

“What was that for? I’m hungry,” Dean whined. 

“Evil pagans, Dean,” you reminded him. “I don’t want you to get magical food poisoning.” You kissed his cheek and sat back in your chair.

He considered for a moment but finally seemed to admit defeat when he hung his head, a small smile and a blush rising to his cheeks. 

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed back to the Carrigan’s home. “ ‘O Come All Ye Faithful” played from somewhere down the street, and the soft glow of Christmas lights on strings shining through the dark night almost made you feel like a child again; falling asleep in the back of your family’s station wagon while your mother hummed along to the Christmas tunes on the radio. 

An evergreen stake was hidden in your jacket’s inside pocket; Bobby was becoming your favorite person with his seemingly endless amounts of contacts and information. Sam had informed you and his brother that the last place the Carrigans had lived, three people disappeared, too. 

You followed Dean into the living room of the dark home after he picked the lock. He turned around and whispered, “See? Plastic.” He gestured to the couch and other furniture  still covered in sheets of it.

You headed down the hallway where ornaments and snow globes rested on shelves on the wall. You made your way into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were looking at a lock on the basement door. Dean picked it, and you followed him down the stairs. You did your best to avoid making the stairs creak as you did so. 

You shined your flashlight around and realized the basement was less of a storage room and more of Hannibal Lector’s playroom; a bowl of blood and bone sat at the end of a bloodstained wooden table just big enough to fit a human on that had shackles outfitted to each of its corners. You backed up along the wall, only to bump into something that moved. You yelped in surprise and wheeled around to see a leather bag wriggling around, as if a person was inside it. 

Suddenly, you felt a hand on the back of your shirt, lifting you up, and you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. 

You wriggled and kicked with all your might, but Mr. Carrigan was too strong. He turned you around and held you to the wall by your throat, and you clawed at his hand to get away from him. However, slowly losing air, you were unsure whether the best strategy was to fight or to conserve your oxygen. 

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here,” Madge smiled sweetly.

***

Slowly, your mind began to awaken. Your limbs and head felt heavy, and the light seeping in through your closed eyes felt painful. You blinked a few times, soon able to fully open your eyes and look around. 

You jerked a little in your seat but soon realized your hands were bound to the chair. You turned your head to the left to see Dean tied up shoulders slumped, and on the right, Sam. You supposed the two boys were tied back to back and your chair was tied sort of in between the two. However, you couldn’t see anything going on behind you. 

“Dean? You okay?” you asked frantically when you heard him groan. 

“Yeah, I think so,” he grumbled. 

“How ‘bout you, Sam?” 

Sam just hummed in response. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, breathing deeply. 

You heard approaching footsteps coming from behind you. 

“Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff,” you heard Madge giggle. 

“Miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers,” Dean snarked. 

You heard Mr. Carrigan take a puff from his pipe. “Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey? You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?” the older brother suggested. 

“What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?” Madge laughed, voice still sugary sweet. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?” Sam shot back.

“Oh now, don’t get all wet,” Mr. Carrigan scolded gently. 

“Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact.” You turned to the left to see Madge put a napkin on Dean’s lap. “Now what do we take?” She did the same to you. “What, two? Three?” And then did the same to Sam.

“Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six.” Mr. Carrigan took another drag from his pipe. Funnily enough, you hadn’t seen him light the thing once yet. 

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge crooned. 

“Well, you say it like that,” Dean sassed, “I guess you guys are the Cunninghams.”

“You, mister, better show us a little respect,” Madge instructed, and you could see her leaning down to try and intimidate Dean.

“Or what?” you remarked, trying to crane your neck around to look at the Carrigans. “You gonna eat us?”

“Not so fast,” Mr. Carrigan responded. “There’s rituals to be followed first.”

You turned to Madge, who looked excited. “Oh, we’re just sticklers for ritual.”

“And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?” Mr. Carrigan taunted, walking around in front of you.

“Let me guess.” The glare you delivered was challenging. “Meadowsweet.”

Mr. Carrigan nodded. 

“Oh shucks,” you mockingly pouted, “you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” You could hear Madge rustling around as she spoke. Suddenly, a wreath was put around your neck. You attempted to bite Mrs. Carrigan’s fingers to no avail, and she just tapped your nose in response. “There. Oh, don’t they just look darling?

Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips. “Good enough to eat. Alrighty-roo. Step number two.” You heard the sound of a knife being released from its sheath. 

Sam started mumbling, “No, no—” to which you and Dean cried his name. 

“D-Don’t!” Sam wailed. 

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted. 

You struggled even harder against your binds.

“Hear how they talk to us?” Mr. Carrigan tsked. “To gods? Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

Mr. Carrigan walked around to you holding the bowl, and you started to panic just a little. 

“Times have changed!” Dean growled. 

“Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our– our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters.” Mr. Carrigan walked back behind what you assumed was the kitchen counter.

“But did we say a peep? Oh ho ho, no, no, no, we did not. Two millennia,” Madge continued for her husband. “We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh- What was that word, dear?”

“We assimilated.”

“Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays.” The woman walked over to you holding the bowl with Sam’s blood in it. “We’re just like everybody else.”

“You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady,” Dean snarked. Madge ignored your partner’s comment. “This might pinch a bit, dear.” With that, she sliced into your arm deeply. 

“F-Fuck!” you screamed. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. “Get your hands off her!”

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?” Madge waved the knife around in your face as you panted in pain. “ ‘Fudge’.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” you sassed. 

“Oh, god, you son of a bitch!” Dean howled, and you assumed Madge had cut him up, too. 

“Get away from him!” you yelled, creating brush burns on your arms from how hard you were pulling on your binds.

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are,” Mr. Carrigan said. “There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.” He came to a stop in front of you holding a pair of pliers.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” you asked, chest heaving in panic. 

All he did was smile in response. 

“You fudging touch her again, and I’ll fudging kill you!” Dean growled. 

“Very good!” Madge praised just before you heard your love groan in pain again. 

You had no time to focus on Dean because Mr. Carrigan grabbed your hand. 

“No, no, don’t!” Sam begged from beside you. 

“Get off me!” you cried, and your cry soon turned into a scream as the god painfully pulled your index fingernail off. 

“Oh, we got a winner!” Mr. Carrigan exclaimed happily. He disappeared from your line of sight again, and you dropped your head back on your chair. Your finger and arm were throbbing, and you couldn’t help but cry. 

“I swear to god, (Y/N), I’ll fucking kill them,” you heard Dean mutter through the white hot pain roaring in your ears.

“What else, dear?” Madge cooed. 

“Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernails, blood. Oh! Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick,” the man laughed. “I forgot the tooth.”

“Oh, dear!”

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Dean said, out of breath. 

You turned your head to see Madge and Mr. Carrigan advancing on Dean. The man held the pliers up and grabbed Dean’s chin harshly. “Open wide… and say, ‘Aah’.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

“Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked around the tool in his mouth. “You should get that.”

“Come on,” Mr. Carrigan finally said. 

You knew you had to act fast, and you started working the knife out of your sleeve as soon as the doors shut behind the Carrigans. Silently, all three of you got out of your binds. You hid with Dean behind one of the kitchen doors. 

“Now, where were we?” you heard Madge say. 

You pulled a drawer out to hold the door closed and trapped the Carrigans in the kitchen. Almost immediately, the couple was attempting to open them. 

You made your way over to Sam at the other end of the kitchen and leaned on the door beside him.

“What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!” Dean whispered. 

“Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!” Sam replied. 

You looked over at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Guys. Bingo.”

Dean smirked excitedly. “Sam, help me get this.” He had his brother assist him in moving the large cabinet next to the door in front of it.

While the boys worked, you pushed the Christmas tree over and broke three large branches off it. You tossed one to both boys who caught them with ease. 

Gripping your stake tightly, you waited with bated breath as the house went silent. Suddenly, Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground. Madge grabbed your shoulder before you could help Dean and wheeled you around. “You little thing,” she chastised. “I loved that tree.”

You raised your stake, but she hit you hard and threw you back onto the plastic-covered couch. The woman stalked toward you, and you whacked her to the ground with the branches of your stake. You scrambled to your feet before she could recover and stabbed her through the chest with your stake.

“Madge!” Mr. Carrigan screamed just before Sam stabbed him with his own makeshift stake.

You moved to stand beside the two boys, chest heaving from the effort. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals,” you breathed out at the dead bodies at your feet. The two boys huffed out labored laughs before Dean slung his arm around your shoulder and began leading you out of the house. 

***

“How’d you keep Dean from finding this stuff?” Sam asked.

You pulled a few plastic bags out from under the bed you shared with the older Winchester. “He doesn’t look under here unless it’s for his shoes. I’ve been making sure they’re next to mine by the door every night,” you explained with a smile. You handed one of the bags to Sam. “It’s not much, but I found a crappy dollar store down the road. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”

Sam looked down sheepishly. “You do get why I was… hesitant, though, right?”

You stood up and nodded. “Absolutely, I do.”

He gave you a lopsided smile. 

“C’mon,” you said. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“What?”

You stooped to pull out the little plastic Christmas tree from under Sam’s bed and held it up with a wide grin.

***

Dean returned almost an hour later holding a six pack. “What’s all this?” he asked, almost in a sort of daze as he looked around the decorated room.

You continued to busy yourself with making eggnog while the brothers talked.

“What do you think it is? It’s– it’s Christmas,” Sam replied.

You walked over to Sam with a cup of your concoction.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked him.

“Oh, thanks,” Sam told you without answering his brother.

“Lemme know if it needs more of a kick,” you said. 

Sam took a swig and coughed. “Nope, all good.”

“Yeah?” you grinned.

Sam nodded and smiled. 

Dean came up behind you and slipped an arm around your waist, his hand landing just above your ass. He smirked down at you and took the other cup of eggnog from your left hand. He gulped almost half of it down, unfazed by the strong whiskey taste. 

“Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do… Christmas stuff, or whatever,” Sam awkwardly said. 

You sat beside Dean on the couch next to the small Christmas tree decorated with car air fresheners. Sam pulled up a chair across from you. 

“All right, first things first,” Dean nodded, and you handed him the two packages he’d wrapped shoddily in brown paper bags. “Merry Christmas, Sam.” Dean handed him one of the two bags.

Sam smiled widely. “Where’d you get these?”

“Someplace special,” Dean smirked. At Sam’s deadpan expression, Dean continued, “The gas mart down the street. Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam brought out two packages wrapped in newspaper. He gave the first to Dean. 

“Really?” Dean asked, eyes shining with surprise. 

You left Dean’s arms momentarily to reach under the couch and brought out two packages daintily wrapped in brown paper. You handed one to each of the boys, and they handed their gifts to you. “You didn’t have to get me anything, guys,” you said. 

“Yeah, we did. Shuddup,” Dean remarked, smirking. 

You relaxed back against him while Sam opened his gift from Dean. “Skin mags!” he laughed. “And shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean questioned.

Sam smiled and nodded. He then opened the gift from you. “Oh, no way!” He held up the Staind cassette tapes you’d gotten for him to add to Dean’s collection for long drives; especially for when Dean was gone. 

You grinned widely as he admired the tapes. “Okay, Dee, your turn,” you told him. 

He chuckled and unwrapped Sam’s gift to him. “Look at this! Fuel for me and fuel for my baby.” He held up a candy bar and a bottle of oil, and you laughed. “These are awesome,” the older brother said. “Thanks, Sammy.” 

“Okay, now mine,” you beamed. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Dean breathed out while he opened the Bowie knife you’d gotten engraved for him. On the hilt of the blade were his initials, and the handle was engraved to look just like the side of his prized Taurus pistol. “Jesus, (Y/N), this is—” he couldn’t seem to find the words, instead opting to place a long kiss on the side of your forehead. 

At last, you opened yours. Sam gave you the second book in a series you’d been reading on Greek myths, for which you were eternally grateful, but Dean’s gift truly floored you.

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, fingering the small beaded bracelet Dean had given you. 

“Off some kid in the lobby,” he smirked.

Tears filled your eyes at how close of attention he paid to you and your stories. 

“There’s something else in there, too.” 

You looked up to Dean with complete admiration before rummaging around in the bag once more. You pulled out a ripped piece of paper from the notepad at a motel you’d recently stayed at with the words, “Redeem on Dean’s expiration date.” You looked up to him in confusion.

“It’s, uh, for this,” Dean revealed, thumbing the amulet around his neck. “I want you to have it.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He returned your fierce embrace, pulling you impossibly closer across his lap. 

“Merry Christmas, Deano,” you whispered into his shoulder.

Dean pulled away from you and kissed your forehead. He then held his eggnog up to cheers you and Sam. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The three of you sat in silence sipping your drinks before Sam broke the quiet. 

He looked quite sad as he began, “Hey, Dean, y—” but Sam cut himself off, sighing and shaking his head. “Do you feel like watching the game?” he finally asked.

Dean grinned in relief. “Absolutely.”

You clicked on the television before settling into Dean’s side. He lazily thumbed your hip and sighed in content. Sam turned his chair to face the television.

***

Later that night, long after Dean and Sam had gone to bed, you were still wide awake. Snow had begun softly falling outside the motel room window, and the moonlight reflected off the white blanket over the Impala beautifully. Wrapped in a blanket, you made your way over to your duffel bag. You hadn’t taken the bracelet that Dean gave you off, and you were still holding the piece of paper to “redeem” when Dean was gone. 

You took your wallet out and slipped the piece of paper into the see-through pocket where your ID sat, and there it would stay until this was all over. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (05)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; omg, i'm alive????? jkjk, work's been piling up lately and i'm honestly drained by the time I get back home so I couldn't do much writing or even qc the draft before yoinking them into a tumblr draft 💀 but anyways, hope yall enjoy this chapter !! uri boo makes a small little cameo in this chapter :D a part of the angst in this fic has also arrived, pls be prepared (it’s not that heavy tho).

You were 15 when you experienced your first ‘heartbreak’. Though, you call it a ‘heartbreak’ solely because it was a “for the lack of a better word” situation. A week before summer break, your parents had announced that the three of you would be flying off to Jeju to visit your grandparents.

You adore your grandparents, and they adore you just as much. Before you started middle school, you remember constantly flying off to Jeju, or even taking the ferry, to visit them every holiday and school break possible. Even during the initial stage of your move to the small town, your parents had sent you off to your grandparents as they sorted out the heavier parts.

Your grandparents had brought you to the beach, taught you how to make kimchi and even brought you to one of the fireworks shows during your stay. But, when you started middle school and were bombarded by a shit ton of schoolwork, you weren’t able to visit them as often.

So, you were ecstatic when your parents announced the Jeju trip. Both Aki and Seungcheol could see the excitement and happiness in your eyes as you told them about your plans.

Aki asking you questions about Jeju while Seungcheol listens to both of you with a small smile on his face. “how long will you be there, pup?” he asks, cheek leaning against the palm of his hand.

“Uhm… I think maybe for two weeks? I’m not really sure… Dad did ask mom if she wanted me to tag along with them to London afterwards…”

“Oh? What are they gonna be doing in London?”

“They have a business meeting that lasts at least two days. But, they decided to stay back a week for a mini vacation.”

“Do you want to go?” Aki asks as she pops a piece of strawberry into her mouth, stealing a glance at Seungcheol, noticing the way his shoulders are slumped at the mention of you thinking of joining your parents overseas.

Dude looks like a puppy not wanting its owner to leave it alone… she thought to herself, finding the scene in front of her amusing.

“Well, whether or not you want to join your parents, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself regardless!” she spoke.

“Take good care of yourself, pup,” Seungcheol added as he reached out a hand and patted your head, sending a faint blush spreading across your cheeks and a teasing smile on Aki’s lips, “If you ever need anything, call me, okay?”

“Or me!”

The older male rolled his eyes at Aki’s words, smiling when you nod your head.

“Seungkwannie!” you squealed out in happiness as you ran up to your cousin who was standing out at the gates of your grandparent's house, engulfing him in a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! Mom and Dad said that you’d be in Biyangdo!”

“And miss out on the chance to spend time with my favourite cousin? Never!” Seungkwan proclaimed as he pecked your cheek. “I haven’t seen you in years, ___! There’s no way I’d pass off the opportunity to spend time with you while you’re here!”

Seungkwan is your cousin from your mom’s side of the family. Before the age of 5, you don’t remember much about meeting Seungkwan other than the stories both your parents would tell you over family dinners. For example, when you asked them about the scar Seungkwan had on his chest, his dad said you were the one that left it on him. They proceeded to tell the story of how you had scratched Seungkwan because he had refused to let you watch Pocoyo on tv when both of you were just 3.

Or when his mom would ask you if you remembered Seungkwan hiding in the closet to scare you, but you ended up crying because you had thought he went home. So, instead of scaring you, he came out of the closet and both your parents found the two of you cuddled up on the floor the next morning

After Seungkwan helped you and your parents move the luggage into your grandparent’s home, Both of you sat on the porch, drinking the lemonade your grandmother had prepared. “How’re you, aunt and uncle doing?” he asks, “I heard from Uncle Lee that you’re starting high school soon! probably in a few months, right?”

“Things have been the same, besides the whole mom and dad having to go overseas occasionally and I had to stay with either Aki or Seungcheol.”

“Speaking of Seungcheol, how’s that little crush of yours on him going?” Seungkwan asked with a teasing smile, nudging your sides, “Ever thought of telling him before he graduates? There’s a chance he might head off to the big cities or even abroad for college.”

You were silent for a moment.

You have thought about telling Seungcheol your feelings, but you never thought about the timing. Now that his graduation is nearing, you still haven’t told him. As you were still stuck in your thoughts, Seungkwan places a hand on your shoulder, “Well, whatever happens, I wish you happiness.“

“You say that as if I’m leaving you forever.”

“Hey, let me be sentimental!”

Just as you rolled your eyes, you felt your phone vibrate - you had gotten a text from Aki.

aki: did you make it to Jeju safe? ___ bestie <3: yeap! ___ bestie <3: i’m with my cousin rn ___ bestie <3: [sent an attachment] aki: ooh, he’s cute ___ bestie <3: want me to introduce you? aki: gurl aki: don’t try to matchmake me when you’re struggling to tell Seungcheol about how you feel aki: and besides aki: your cousin is cute, but he’s not my type ___ bestie <3: wow ___ bestie <3: you really just did me dirty aki: i’m just saying ___ aki: better tell him before you lose the chance aki: besides your romantic struggles aki: have fun and take lots of pictures! aki: can’t wait to see them when you get back <3 ___ bestie <3: i will!

“Are you gonna stay here with grandma and grandpa while Aunt and Uncle Lee fly out to London?” Seungkwan asks as you set down your phone, refilling his glass of lemonade. You shrugged, still debating on whether or not you wanted to join your parents. “I’m honestly stuck in between… On one hand, I want to see what other countries are like. On the other, I haven’t seen grandma and grandpa in years…”

Your mother who was on her way to give you both a plate of strawberries overheard the conversation and tried her best to help you with your indecisiveness. “___, sweetie,” she began as she set the plate on the wooden porch floor, “you can always travel in the future when you’re all grown up.”

“That sounds like you just want her to stay here in Jeju so you and uncle can enjoy yourselves without her presence,” Seungkwan teased, earning a forehead flick from your mother.

“Well, she’ll be in your care too, Seungkwan. I hope I won’t return to a sassy, diva daughter after leaving her here with you.”

Seungkwan gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his chest at your mother’s statement. “Aunt Lee, I’m hurt and offended.”

“You’re just further proving my point, Seungkwan.”

“Hey, the sass could end up helping her in the future!”

cheollie: hey, pup cheollie: mom said you and your parents made it to Jeju safely cheollie: how are you feeling? cheollie: did you get motion sickness during the flight? cheollie: did you eat dinner yet? sweet pup: ehh, the motion sickness wasn’t that bad sweet pup: grandma made lemonade :D sweet pup: and yes, i ate dinner! sweet pup: grandpa grilled some mackerel sweet pup: [sent an attachment] sweet pup: and look at how fat the strawberries are :0 sweet pup: [sent an attachment] cheollie: wow cheollie: those look good cheollie: hey, do you think it’s alright if we have a call? sweet pup: like, right now? cheollie: yea sweet pup: oh sweet pup: um, let me head out to the porch cheollie: take your time, pup

As you quietly exited the room you were staying in and out onto the porch, you picked up Seungcheol’s incoming call, feeling the butterflies in your stomach intensify when you heard his deep, “Hey, pup.”

“Hi, Cheollie! Have you had your dinner?” you asked, getting a small hum as a response. “Dad got a deal with a big client so he bought steak for us. Mom also cooked calamari.”

“Wow, it must’ve tasted amazing…”

“Yeah, it was. But, tell me about your dinner, ___. I’m sure you had more than just grilled mackerel.” Seungcheol chuckled, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mentally cussed at how the older male still has an effect on you despite being 2 hours away and talking to you through a phone.

“Well… Mom made raw crabs and seafood soup!”

“Looks like my little puppy is eating well... That’s good.”

“Is there another reason you wanted to call, Cheollie?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, making you slightly anxious. You hear a faint rustling, thinking he must be lying on his bed as he’s talking to you. A sigh was heard before Seungcheol told you his motive for calling you - and to say it had you on the floor was an understatement.

No, this man had you envisioning a future with him.

“I miss you.”

When you didn't respond, Seungcheol got worried, calling out your name on the other end while you remained stunned at his confession.

“U-uhm, yeah?”

“Did that make you uncomfortable, pup?”

“No, no, it just… It just caught me by surprise…”

You hear Seungcheol chuckle, and more rustling can be heard before he speaks again. “Well, I’m used to having you around me, twenty-four seven, ___. It feels weird when you’re not.”

“I’ll be back in two weeks, Cheollie. You’re being dramatic!”

Maybe he was, the older male thought to himself. But, he pushes that thought to the back of his head as he finally tells you the real reason he’s calling you.

“My parents are thinking of bringing me to Seoul this weekend to check out a few unis… I just thought that I’d let you know since, y’know… I’m graduating soon…”

Your heart sank at the mention of him graduating. You knew it was bound to happen - you even told yourself to not be too sad when he does end up moving out of Daegu for college. But, to hear it coming from Seungcheol himself, the reality hit harder.

“Oh… Well, I’m happy for you!” you tried your best to hide the sadness in your voice, though he still picked it up. “Pup, I’m not going away forever. You’ll still see me when I come back during breaks and when you leave for college, you can come over to Seoul, too!” he assures you, chuckling to himself as he continues, “Maybe our parents might even have us share an apartment so I can watch over you.”

Humming, you stared up into the sky, mesmerised by the stars that were scattered along the blanket of the night sky.

“___?”

“Yea…?”

“Remember what I taught you during our taekwondo sessions?”

“What about it?”

“Don’t forget how to use them, okay? Can’t have my little puppy all defenceless now, can I?”

you bit your lip as Seungcheol went on with his words, how he wished he could stay in Daegu longer so he could spend more time with you. How he wanted to explore the bigger city in Daegu with you (where he implies it being just two of you and without Aki who would often nag at him for having a bad taste in things).

“I’m gonna miss you…” you muttered quietly, not knowing how or what else you were supposed to say. You weren’t going to tell him about your feelings, that’s for sure. but, a part of you wished you could.

Who knows? Maybe you both could end up being something.

“It’s getting late, pup. you must be tired from the flight and settling in. Goodnight, ___.”

“Goodnight, Cheollie…”

When the call ended, you stared at the screen of your phone, a million thoughts racing through your head. You couldn’t put a finger on it, but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. perhaps you were overthinking the whole situation or something wrong was bound to happen. Whatever it was, you quietly got back into your room and crawled into bed.

Something didn’t feel right.

It was the weekend Seungcheol was due to head to Seoul to have a look at the city and attend a few of the education fairs - and not once, had you gotten a single message from him.

In fact, in the days leading up to that weekend, he had been quiet too. His replies were either short, took too long or there weren’t any replies at all.

It makes you feel uneasy.

“Still no updates from loverboy?” Seungkwan asks, glancing over your shoulder and peeking at your phone, seeing the wall of texts about how the past few days have gone down for you. When you sulkingly shake your head, Seungkwan’s heart aches as he sees his favourite cousin down in the dumps.

“Hey,” he calls out in a gentle tone, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. “Maybe he’s just caught up with those college things. Sooner or later he’s bound to update you, right? Besides, you should be busy having fun here in Jeju!”

Looking at your phone one last time, you shoved it back into your pocket and let Seungkwan drag you to a food street, saying how they added more delicious treats since the last time you visited.

By evening, there was still no news about or from Seungcheol. You’ve tried calling him multiple times, but they all end up going to voicemail. It was starting to affect you and your parents began to take notice, but decided to not question it for fear of triggering an episode. After dinner, you decided to call Aki in an attempt to get some form of comfort.

“I just don’t understand, Aki,” you told her, “I texted him, even called him but I got nothing! What if something bad happened to him?”

“Hey now, you’re probably overthinking things. He might just be sorting those uni documents out - you know how lengthy and taxing they can be. Maybe, he’s just tired and needs some rest!”

“You think so?”

“It’s just a guess, ___. whatever it is, I’m sure it isn’t anything serious.”

Oh, how you wished it really wasn’t anything serious.

When the time came to send your parents off at the airport for their trip to London, you had sent a message to Seungcheol and yet again, you got no response. One thing you came to realise in recent years, was how big of an over-thinker you are. It was something you hated and while your family, Seungcheol and Aki have done whatever they can to help you lessen your overthinking, that still doesn’t stop it from creeping up on you from time to time.

Seungkwan does his best to cheer you up. Bringing you to more food streets, a maze field, and even the seaside to take your mind off of Seungcheol but alas, it was as if Seungcheol had taken over your mind just like the virus in ‘The Last of Us’. One evening as you sat on the sand of the beach, staring off into the horizon, Seungkwan came up and sat next to you.

“I know this might not sound nice, but you can’t let something like Seungcheol not responding to you ruin your trip, ___. Sure, it’s upsetting having someone you’ve known for years and care for go ghost on you, but it’s kind of… pathetic, to let it ruin what could be a fun summer vacation.”

As much as those words hurt you, Seungkwan was right.

You hadn’t seen your family that lived in Jeju for years and now that you can, you’re letting something like your crush not responding to you ruin it. “Then, what should I do, Kwannie…?” you asked, wiping the tears that were starting to stream down your face, “I don’t wanna leave Jeju knowing I didn’t get to spend time with you and our grandparents…”

“How about you try calling him only once? If he doesn’t pick up, we’ll forget about it and move on, okay?”

You give it a thought, minutes passing by before you pick up your phone and dial Seungcheol’s number, placing it near your ear.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”

Seungkwan noticed your body shaking as you redialled the number, your breathing starting to grow shallow.

“We’re sorry, the number you have dialled cannot be reached.”

“___?” Seungkwan calls out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. When you began to cry, he pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back as you cried your heart out. “Shhh, it’s okay, ____. it’s okay.”

When you got back to Daegu, your heart dropped at the sight of the empty house next to yours. the entire house looked as if it were fully emptied (which it was) - the potted plants Mrs. Choi had displayed on the gates were nowhere to be seen, the shoes that were neatly arranged on the shoe rack weren’t there anymore, and the Choi’s family car wasn’t parked in its usual place.

“I guess they must’ve moved since Seungcheol is going to start college soon…” your mother tells your father who hums in response as he unloads the luggage from the trunk of the taxi. When she notices the sadness and tears in your eyes, she immediately starts comforting you.”Oh, sweetie… Does it upset you that much?”

“I… I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you sobbed out, “I couldn’t even see him one last time before he left…”

“Oh, princess…” your father coos after bidding the taxi driver goodbye, hugging you tight as your mother does the same, “I’m sure he feels sad for not being able to do the same, hmm?”

“Will… Will I… Will I be able to see him again?” you asked through hiccuped sobs, wiping your tears away as more kept spilling. Your mother nods, giving you a pat on the head. “I'm sure you will, honey.”

“He said he’s thinking of joining University of Pledis, right?” your father asked, a small smile on his face when you nod, “Then, you just need to study hard and get in there too! That way, you can finally be reunited with prince charming!”

despite your tears, you still manage to laugh at your dad’s tease. “Dad!”

“Ah-ah, don’t think we didn’t know about your little crush on Seungcheol, ___.” he responded, chuckling as he gave your arm an assuring squeeze.

“Whatever the future has in store, I’m sure the two of you will meet again.”

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui896 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp

[gurugirl]

Jewel | stepdad!harry

Summary: You get a tongue piercing and Harry wants to test it out.

A/N: Based on this idea!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and stepdaughter, cheating, lying, degradation, 'cum' play

stepdad!harry masterlist

"Why'd you get that?"

"Cause I felt like it."

"You look like a slut."

"Oh yeah? You like it, Daddy?"

Harry grasped your cheeks and smushed so you were forced to keep your mouth open. He inspected the inside of your mouth, pushing his finger over your tongue and the small delicate jeweled piercing right at the center.

You’d been wanting to get a tongue piercing and you finally worked up the nerve to do it. Harry hadn’t seen it yet because you’d been away at school but you knew that once he did he’d flip out a little.

“You look stupid.”

You chuckled and reached for Harry’s forearm to pull his finger further into your mouth as you wrapped your lips around his digit, licking the pad of his finger and then flicking the smooth jewel against his hand. You sucked and then grinned at him innocently with his finger still in your mouth.

“Harry, will you open the oven door? I’ve got my hands full,” your mom suddenly caught you both off guard. Harry yanked his finger from your mouth and jogged into the kitchen to help her so she could stick the roast into the oven.

You leaned into the hallway wall and closed your eyes. That was a close call.

Dinner had Harry eyeing you closely. You knew he was curious about your new piece of jewelry. You could see the gears turning in his head.

“I signed up to win this vacation to Quebec. God, wouldn’t that be so cool if I won? Everything is paid for too. Well, the basics… Anyway…”

Your mom talked about her dream vacation away. She needed a vacation, you knew that. Everyone did. She worked all the time and yet she still made dinner on her rare nights off and did it all with a smile.

You licked your lips and looked up from your plate to plant your gaze on Harry’s. He was already looking at you so you stuck your tongue out quickly and then grinned before taking another bite of your meal.

Harry shook his head slowly and then spoke, “A vacation in Quebec huh? Why don’t you just take off for a week and you and I can go. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“I mean, in all honesty? I might just do that if I don’t win…”

You frowned at Harry for saying that in front of you. That was a dick move. You were just teasing him with a piercing but his retaliation to suggest that just the two of them go on vacation together? You knew your upset and jealousy was irrational. Harry was married to your mother. Not to you.

“I’m suddenly sick to my stomach. I’m gonna,” you stood from the table, “call it a night.”

Your mom put her fork down and stood to give you a side hug, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I think it’s too much wine. Too acidic or something,” you swallowed as you lied.

You were happy to get away from that conversation. A conversation you had no right being upset by. To really put things into perspective, you often imagined how your mother would feel if she ever knew half of what you and Harry had gotten up to when she wasn’t around. That usually pulled you right back down to earth.

And here you were upset by a mere comment. You hated the situation but you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it.

Your mother knocked at your door before opening it and looking in, “Hi baby, are you feeling okay?”

You were on your bed in your oversized pajamas leaning against your pillows, “I’m better now. Thank you, mom.”

You turned your attention back to the episode of Seinfeld you were watching on your laptop. You should have been doing homework. You had a paper due on Monday that you’d barely even begun.

You sighed as you closed your laptop and turned off your lamp. Tomorrow you’d get to your paper.

Before you’d even fallen asleep you heard your door opening and smiled to yourself. It was Harry coming in to see you. Every time he snuck into your room when your mother was around it made you feel special. Made you feel like he preferred you.

“Sleeping already?” Harry whispered quietly as he climbed up behind you on your bed and put his arm over your middle.

You inhaled deeply and yawned. If he’d come in a few minutes later you would have been sleeping. “Almost,” you spoke after you finished yawning.

Harry slowly moved a hand up, grazing over your tits, up to your clavicle, over your neck and then he stopped at your mouth, pressing two fingers inside, “S’this why you have this? Cause you want me to play with it? Want to take on my cock and slide this against my balls when I have you pressed down so hard you’re choking?”

You moaned and felt yourself falling into that soft simpery place as his nails scraped the back of your throat gently.

“Hmm? My little slut likes to be used so I’m gonna use her tonight. Isn’t that what you wanted, Y/n?”

You nodded into Harry’s palm as you gagged slightly at how deep his middle finger was, “Yes, Daddy.” You spoke around his finger and heard him laughing softly at your pathetic attempt to answer him.

Suddenly he yanked down your pajama pants, exposing your bottom, and kicked the sheets down. You yelped as he pushed your face into your pillow, his hand at the back of your neck roughly keeping you in place. He landed a swat onto your bottom and then another three in quick succession which had you gasping.

He pulled your hands behind your back with his free hand and then he leaned over you as he spoke quietly, “Turn your head to the side and stick out your tongue.”

You did as he said and he released your neck and then pulled at your bent elbows to lift you up, “Turn and face me.”

You kept your arms behind your back and your tongue out as you scooted yourself around to face Harry and then sat back on your haunches as you watched him pull his sweatpants down and bring his cock out. He stroked himself slowly as he lifted his free hand and stuck it in your mouth, feeling over the jewelry once again.

You were quite happy that he seemed so excited by it. He didn’t admit he liked it but you didn’t need him to.

You shot your gaze from his dark eyes to where he was pumping himself, slowly getting himself hard for you.

“Spit,” he said as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and held his palm out.

You spat into his hand, keeping your eyes on his in the dark room, and watched as he brought his saliva-coated palm to his cock.

You swallowed and could hear puffs of breath fall from his mouth as he fucked his fist, “Take your top off. This is gonna be messy.”

You brought your hands down to the bottom hem of your shirt and pulled it off over your head before putting your arms back behind yourself.

He smiled and you could hear the slick sound of your saliva coating his cock as he stroked.

Harry released his hard dick and pulled his own shirt off before grabbing you by your neck and pushing you back into your pillows, “Keep your hands behind your back,” he growled as he crawled up over you and then smushed your cheeks again, “Gonna fuck your throat now.”

And god there was something about Harry ramming his cock into your mouth and the moans he would make that got you wet instantly. Sure it was uncomfortable having a big long dick sliding in and out of your throat but you loved it. Loved the way it made you feel like nothing. Like just a toy or a piece of garbage maybe. Somedays you did feel like a piece of garbage. Especially because your affair with your stepdad was an awful thing to do to your mother. So you deserved discomfort and to be used and fucked however he wanted.

You gurgled as you tried to keep your eyes on Harry but when he stuffed himself in fully and your nose was pressed into the base of cock you slid your tongue out along his balls and heard him whine. He grasped your head and held you in place, “That’s right. Taste my balls and run that little slut tongue all over… fuck…” Harry breathed out a moan as drool escaped the edges of your mouth.

He finally backed out to give you a breath before pushing his tip back into your mouth, “Let’s feel it then. Lick my cock and let me see if you’re any good with that stupid thing,” he gritted.

You swirled your tongue over his frenulum and then down along his shaft as you kept your eyes on his. You lifted your neck so you could take him deeper but he pushed your forehead so you’d stay down, “Uh, uh… Didn’t say you could move. Told you to lick my cock.”

The tase of his precome coated your mouth as you licked his tip and along the edge of this shaft where you could reach without lifting up. You sucked gently, wrapping your lips around him and brushing your tongue against him, making sure to press the jewel into his sensitive skin.

His groans told you he liked it but suddenly he pulled himself out and held you down by the front of your neck and leaned over you, his cock laying over your belly button. He spat down into your mouth, “Don’t swallow.”

Pushing his thick cock back into your mouth you had to squeeze your eyes closed with the way he was grinding into you. You could only hear your gags and the slick noises of Harry’s cock being guided harshly into your throat repeatedly.

“Holy!” Harry gasped out and then slid his long cock out of your mouth and slowly off your tongue to catch his breath.

His chest was heaving as you looked up at him from his position over you. Your eyes were blurry but you could tell he’d almost come just then. He repositioned himself between your legs and pushed your thighs into your chest. He dipped a finger into your entrance, “Can’t believe you get wet from that. So fucking desperate for anything I give you.” He slapped your thigh and you moaned.

You wondered how loud things sounded outside of your door. The sound of skin getting slapped with a spank along with the moans had to have been loud. But then another swat was issued to your pussy and you gasped, titling your neck up to look at Harry between your legs.

He was stroking his cock when he looked up at you and then angled himself over your body before pressing his cock into your pussy, “Gotta admit…” he panted his words, “Your pussy is too good not to use. Fuck you’re so creamy and dirty. Shit…” he pulled back and then plunged himself back in, dipping into your tummy and gliding over your g-spot with each thrust.

“Please give me your come, daddy…” you pleaded as Harry began to tremble and moan between gasps. You loved that your body made him react that way.

Harry grunted as he rocked into you deeply a few more times, your mattress bouncing under your back. He suddenly pulled out, releasing your legs, and crawled up to aim his cock at your face. You felt his warm spurts of come squirt into your mouth, where you stuck your tongue out to taste and then he groaned as he kept stroking himself, coming on your neck and your tits and down to your tummy. He’d covered you in his orgasm, making a mess just like he said he would.

“You’re my filthy slut, aren’t you?” He grasped your cheeks again, still stroking himself to milk the last drops from his shaft. You tried to nod but his grip was tight.

He let out an incredulous laugh before spitting into your mouth again.

You felt like a puddle after he’d used you like that. Not even coming in your hole but wasting all his seed on your skin instead. It was dirty and rude. You loved it.

You lay prone with a smile as Harry got up from the bed.

When he turned back to look at you after he’d pulled his sweatpants back on his eyes went wide as he stood and watched you smear his come onto your palm and rubbed your clit with it then used your other fingers to push gobs of his release inside of your pussy.

Harry grinned and leaned down to kiss you, despite the mess on your face. He parted from the kiss but kept his face close to yours as he whispered, “Have fun with your little present. Don’t want you to leave this room until you’ve eaten all my come or stuffed it into your pussy just like you’re doing. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy. I won’t let it go to waste.”

 Harry smirked as he stood up and slid his shirt on. He watched you for a moment longer before he had to drag himself away from the dirty scene with you scooping up his come and pushing it into your tight hole as you moaned. You were all shiny with his orgasm as you bucked your hips into your sticky palm.

He would have loved to stay and watch but he couldn’t waste too much more time just in case his wife woke up. Perhaps next time he’d indulge in watching you masturbate with his come.

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me! | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @ky-harlow-bieber @angel-akxo @flowerfeastrry @armystay89 @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @tswiftsangel

[thepersonnamedsam]

tiktoks on the paddock

pairing: genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: tiktoks about the paddock are fun

word count: 873

warnings: none

note: enjoy :) it’s a bit short…

masterlist / taglist

The paddock, a place where many things are happening all at once. And phew, for y/n it’s like a feast for content. She loves filming everything and collecting memories. Her TikToks are an absolute favourite by the fans. Loving the content of all the drivers and her.

At the Australian GP, where she finally met Danny again, she wanted to do a TikTok with him. „Please Danny, please do a TikTok with me. I don’t even have to post it, it’s just for me and you“, she pleaded with puppy-dog-eyes and how could anyone ever say no to that face. „Alright, what do we have to do?“ - „Let’s do that one.“

Just guess how many tries it took to finally have a good result. 27 tries, 27! Daniel kept laughing or people would walk in and they had to restart the whole thing.

„Daniel Joseph Ricciardo, please be serious!“ - Oh oh, y/n just called me by my full name, this can’t be good“, he muttered. „Just try please“, she begged him. She loved his laugh, but he did it every time. Okay, she had laughed for the first few tries as well, only because he had laughed, but still.

And then Lando walked in: „Whatcha guys doin?“, y/n did not seem impressed. „Lando, you just walked into our TikTok and now we have to start again, do you know how long this takes?“, her voice serious and stern. Lando put his hands above his head and surrendered. He kind of wanted to ask to be apart of the TikTok, but as soon as he saw the look on her face, he didn’t.

As they finally managed to make a decent take, she was so happy. Doing her happy dance like she did as a little child. Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, the younger driver was just adorable. „Thank you Danny!“ She went and hugged the reserve driver. „Aw, you’re very welcome, y/n.“

And she always did a ‚get ready with me for paddock‘ TikTok, the fans love it.

„Okay guys, hello and welcome to my GRWM for the Miami GP! I am so excited! The Americans always make this huge deal out of the grand prix‘s and we’ll see how it’ll turn out this year.“ She looked into the camera of her phone, seeing her own figure. „Let’s see, I know that Lewis is gonna wear a sequinned purple jumpsuit, should we match him or do our own thing?“ Her hands were both placed on the sides of her head, squishing it, as if this would produce more ideas.

She didn’t pack that many outfits, only recently gotten into fashion, because of Lewis, duh. But you could describe her style as 70s or early 80s kind of pop-rock style, with some floated pants and vintage pieces. It wasn’t unique, she knew that, but it was what made her comfortable in her own body, thats the main reason why she wore it.

„The temperature will be high today and I don’t feel like sweating before the race. I will do that enough during. Hmm, let’s look.“

„I think I’m gonna go with these pants“, she held up some blue pleaded pants. „Yes ohh, and definitely my Rolling Stones shirt. It looks like something Harry would wear!“ That shirt was probably as old as her, she bought it in an old vintage store in Vegas in 2022.

„Oh and maybe Lily has some nice shoes for me and a bag! Let’s go ask her!“ She took the phone off the nightstand and stormed out of her hotel room. She lightly knocked on Alex‘ room and he opened. „Hey y/n, what can I do for ya?“ - „Is Lily here?“, she didn’t even said hello to him. He was taken back for a moment, but he already knew that his girlfriend was higher on y/n‘s list. „Uh yeah, she’s here.“ She pushed him aside and went into the hotel room.

„Lily, say hi to my TikTok“, she pointed her phone at the chines golfer. The spoken to just waved and looked a bit confused. „Lily, my dear, I want to wear these pants and that shirt, do you have some shoes for me?“ She looked at the older girl. „Yes, I have the perfect shoes and a bag that would look so lovely on you“, Lily was excited, always wanting to dress up the young driver.

She gave her some brown faux leather shoes with a little bit of heel. And a brown bag. She also found a hat that would look good on her. Together with some accessories, y/n was ready for the paddock (and finished with her TikTok).

Later that day, the media talked about her outfit and how it looks like something Harry Styles would wear. She was happy to see that they saw who inspired the whole look.

She didn’t do the GRWM often, but what she did was the whole trend stuff, sign her up for some funny filters, who’d she pick to be her Hogwarts Parents or some stupid dances she saw on her For You Page. She was obsessed with TikTok. She usually spent two hours before she went to sleep on TikTok. But who doesn’t.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan

[maxiine]

Not alone

//Bakugo x sadreader//

_____________________________________________

//=dealing with a loss at the moment and thought of this interaction <3 plus the idea of a cafe owner reader makes me happy lol

It was late evening, and your café was unusually quiet. The usual hum of conversation and clinking of coffee cups was replaced by the occasional drip of the espresso machine. You were wiping the same spot on the counter, lost in thought. The weight of loss sat heavily on your chest, leaving you adrift in your sorrow.

The door slammed open with a loud BANG, making you jump.

“Oi, you alive in here, or what?” came the familiar growl. Standing in the doorway, his ash-blond hair messy as ever and his scowl firmly in place, was Katsuki Bakugo. He was wearing his usual casual hoodie and jeans, looking both out of place and completely at home in your café.

“Bakugo,” you said weakly, trying to muster a smile. “What are you doing here?”

He stomped over, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “Tch. You weren’t answering your phone, dumbass. What, you think you can just wallow in here forever? You’ve got customers—well, not right now, but still.”

You sighed and set the rag down. “I’m not really in the mood, okay? It’s been… rough.”

He froze for a moment, the usual fire in his eyes dimming slightly. “Yeah, I know. I heard.” His voice softened, just a fraction, but enough for you to notice.

Before you could respond, he snapped back into action, pulling out a paper bag from somewhere and tossing it on the counter. “Here. You’re gonna eat this, and then you’re gonna stop looking like the world’s ending. It’s pathetic.”

You open the bag to find a perfectly wrapped piece of your favorite pastry. “Did you… buy this?” you asked, incredulous.

“Hell no. I made it. What do you think I am, stupid?” His ears turned red, and he crossed his arms defensively. “I’m not useless in the kitchen, you know. And before you start with the ‘oh wow, thanks, Bakugo,’ this isn’t me being nice. I just couldn’t stand thinking about you sitting here all miserable.”

A small smile tugged at your lips despite the ache in your heart. “You’re terrible at this cheering-up thing.”

“Like I care!” he barked, but his tone lacked its usual venom. He pulled up a stool and sat across from you. “But I’m not leaving until you eat that. And don’t even think about crying or some crap like that. I’m not good with that stuff.”

You picked up the pastry and took a bite. It was perfect—flaky, buttery, and just sweet enough to remind you that comfort could come in small moments, even in the darkest times.

Bakugo watched you like a hawk, his intense gaze never wavering. When you finished, he leaned back and smirked. “See? I’m a goddamn genius.”

“Thanks, Bakugo,” you said softly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just… don’t make me come back here again for this. Next time, you’re coming to me, got it?”

And just like that, he stayed until closing time, his gruff presence silently reminding you that even in loss, you weren’t alone.

_____________________________________________

[average-dilf-enjoyer]

KINKTOBER

Day 3: Roleplay + Bruno Madrigal (Encanto)

Pairing: Bruno Madrigal/f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Fingering, PIV sex, consensual dubcon (is that what you call it??), this is cringe I’m so sorry

A/N: Honestly just expect every fic to be rushed asf and/or slightly late because I have ten million things to do every day 😭😭 literally proofread this at 3:00 am

——————————————————————————

You loved the Madrigals, you really did. Hell, you were married to one of them. But they could be a bit… overwhelming.

You and Bruno couldn’t even get a moment alone on your anniversary of all days, despite how much you tried. And oh, you tried, but you were constantly interrupted by people wanting to congratulate the two of you, wishing you happiness in your marriage and even giving you gifts. And when they threw a party for the two of you near the end of the day, you knew it would be late at night by the time you would get time alone. You appreciated it, of course, but all you really wanted to do was get in bed with your husband.

It was near midnight before you finally got to escape to your bedroom. After wishing everyone a good night and thanking them for everything, the two of you rushed to your room before anyone could interrupt again.

As soon as the door was locked he pulled you to him and kissed you. “Mierda, I thought we’d never get away,” he chuckled between kisses. “‘M sorry, mi vida. They mean well, it’s just…”

“Mm, I know. It’s sweet of them to do all of this for us,” you assured him, taking his hand and dragging him to the bed.

Bruno grinned as you pulled him onto the mattress with you, threading his fingers with yours as he laid next to you. “Yeah… I mean, it’s nice, but I’ve been dying to get alone all day,” he sighed, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You cupped his cheek in your hand. “Well we have now, don’t we?”

He nodded, climbing over you. “Yeah… gonna make up for all the time we lost today,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss at your neck.

“Y’know, I was thinking… maybe we could do something different tonight..?” you whispered back, slightly nervous about his reaction to what you’re about to suggest.

He leaned away to look at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “What is it?”

“Um… well…” you took a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves. “Have you ever heard of, uh… roleplay?”

He gave you a knowing smirk, leaning closer. “Yeah..?”

“Um. Well, I was thinking, maybe we could try it?”

He kissed you again, sweet and gentle. “Sounds fun. What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe you could play a thief breaking into my home or something..?” you suggested, still shy.

He nodded, fully paying attention, and you had no idea how he wasn’t laughing at you. You felt ridiculous for even mentioning it. “Okay,” he said. Simple, no judgement or amusement in his voice. You would even go so far as to say he sounded excited. “You sure you wanna do this?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright then, let’s do it,” he agreed with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

“You better have been telling the truth when you said your real gift is acting.”

You awoke to a thud from somewhere in your house. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Wha..?” you groaned to yourself, getting up to search for the source of the noise. You didn’t even get to the door before you found your answer.

You screamed when the man appeared in your doorway, and he quickly silenced you with a hand over your mouth.

“Shut. Up.” he seethed, grabbing you hard and pushing you back onto your bed. “You're gonna let me have my way, got it?”

You nodded wordlessly, too afraid to speak.

He nodded in return. “Good.”

You watched in terror as he went through your room, knocking things to the ground and searching your drawers.

“This real gold?” he asked, holding up a necklace he found on your dresser.

“Yes,” you said quietly, terrified of what he might do to you if you lied.

He hummed and pocketed the piece of jewelry, then turned to you, eyeing you up and down. "Mierda, you're pretty. I couldn't see you well before, but now that I've got a better view, I think I might take you too."

You felt a chill run down your spine at his words. Take you..? You weren't sure what he meant, and you didn't think you wanted to. He started walking towards you and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever he was about to do. What you didn't expect was for his hands to grip your wrists, pushing you back onto the mattress as he climbed over you. Your eyes flew open. "Sir..."

He grinned as you whimpered under him. "I'm gonna make a deal with you. You let me fuck you, I'll leave."

Your eyes widened at his proposal, a mix of fear and arousal swirling in your gut. "And if I don't?"

The man chuckled darkly, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I'll make sure there isn't a single valuable item left in this entire house. Your choice, cariño."

You gaze up at his eyes, now darkened with lust, weighing your options. Surely it would be easier to just let him do this... and you certainly couldn't afford to lose all of your possessions. "You can fuck me," you answered meekly.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he growled, letting go of one wrist so he could unbutton his pants.

You whimpered involuntarily when his other hand left your wrist to slide up your shirt, running along the skin, "Dios, you're soft..."

"Please don't hurt me..." you whispered shakily as he moved his hands to the hem of your skirt.

"I won't," he assured you, sliding down your skirt and panties, surprisingly gentle. "All you gotta do is lay there and keep looking pretty."

You nodded, eyes wide as his eyes roamed your body, drinking you in. His fingers gently prodded at your entrance, and you hissed at the feeling of his cold fingers on your heat.

His eyes never left yours as two of his long, thick fingers slid into you, watching you writhe and gasp beneath him. "That's it, hermosa..."

The nickname only made you more aroused, gasping and panting as he crooked his fingers inside you. You couldn't believe you were aroused at all. He was stealing from you a moment ago, for God's sake. But you couldn't help it. He was handsome and so gentle with you, the opposite of what you had thought he would be. "Please, sir..." you moaned softly as that oh-so familiar pressure built up inside you.

"Mierda, you're easy, aren't you? I've barely even touched you," he admonished you, pumping his fingers faster.

He had you coming on him fingers in seconds, moaning loudly into the quiet of your room. "There you go, cariño..."

"Sir," you whined after you came down from your high. "Fuck me."

"Needy," he chuckled. "Thought you were afraid of me?" he asked as he slid down his pants, revealing everything the cloth was hiding, and wow, it was hiding a lot. There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about his dick, but it looked incredible, hard and leaking precum.

"I am." You really were. You just also happened to be incredibly turned on, and his cock standing at attention in front of you wasn't helping.

He hummed and notched his tip at your entrance, slowly pushing into you. "But you like it." He said it like it was a fact. And it was. You did like it.

You gasped at the intrusion, grasping at his shoulders as he slid into you. "Ohhh, fuck-" you moaned.

The man hissed above you, fisting his hands into the sheets. "Oh, mierda, that's good." He began thrusting into you, setting a slow pace that quickly gained speed as you got acquainted with the feeling of him inside of you.

"More," you whined, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, pushing him deeper. "More, sir, please..."

He snaked one hand between your bodies, reaching to play with your clit. His fingers rubbing circles into the sensitive bud had you reeling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure rapidly building in you.

"You close?" he rasped, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts grew erratic. "Want you to come with me, can ya do that, hermosa?"

You nodded, gasping as he speared you on his dick over and over again. "Mhmm."

A moment later he was spilling inside of you with a loud groan, and the feeling of him filling you up was what pushed you over the edge. You came hard, searing waves of pleasure running through your trembling body.

"Bruno..." you sighed as he collapsed on top of you. "Holy fuck."

"I know," he laughed breathlessly, pulling out of you and rolling onto his back.

You turned to him, resting an arm across his stomach. "Happy anniversary, Bruno."

"Happy anniversary, cariño."

[quinnyundertow]

Picking up the Pieces

For my bby Choso

MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort

1,800 Words

Summary:

The fight with Sukuna has finally ended. Before he’s wisked off the battlefield the boy named Yuji begs you to try and save what’s left of his older brother.

AN:

I have been drowning in writers block. The manga has me so damn depressed and the one I want to live most right now is our baby Choso. He deserves to live that domestic life he never got to feel. Best big brother ever.

Picking up the Pieces

Choso had thought for sure he had died. No he definitely died. He had protected his little brother with his life. There wasn’t a more noble way to die. Now his brother would have the chance to thrive and grow old. Find a first love, have his first kiss, buy his first home. Have children that would have called him uncle Chocho. Never mind that Choso never had the chance to do any of those things either. Yuji would have the chance that he never did; and that made it all worthwhile.

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Someone is talking to him. The voice is what he imagines angels sound like. Do curses get to go to heaven? Maybe death won’t be so bad. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

He’s so tired. More tired than he’s ever been in his existence. A part of him is annoyed you keep shaking him awake. Just let him rest for a minute. “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

Yuji? Who’s Yuji and why did he-? Yuji. Yuji! He takes a gasping breath in as his chest keeps getting harshly pushed on. He doesn’t know what CPR is but it’s painful. You keep pushing against his broken ribs. Don’t you know that’s excruciating? Wait, what about Yuji? “Yuji?” The words come out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it but we’ll get there!”

He tries to ask for Yuji again but all that escapes is a hacking cough from all the smoke he inhaled during his fight with Sukuna.

Thankfully, you somehow manage to understand and respond accordingly, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer, but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

The wave of relief that washes over him is visible. Your voice is coming in a little panicked now, “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and his face feels wet. At least he thinks it does. Are you crying? Why are you crying? He’s a curse. You’re presumably one of Yuji’s companions, a sorcerer. Shouldn’t you want him dead? He’s straining to try and make out your features but you look like a shadow on a curtain or static on a tv. Are his eyes even open? Does it matter? He feels so nice, so warm. You’re cradling him and he can’t help but wonder if this is what his mothers love would have felt like. If his father wasn’t a rapist and if he hadn’t been born a monster.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” Your voice is shrill and screaming as you wake him up again. You’re yelling names he doesn’t know, “Nitta! Nitta!” The sound is fading out. He can’t hear anything now. That’s alright. It’s perfect to go back to sleep to. He’s so warm and lovingly held. Just a little nap, well..maybe a long one. A nice long sleep.

~~

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Your fingers keep slipping as you’re trying to do chest compressions. There’s just so much blood. The entire area reeks of it. Blood, smoke, dust. Smells of a battlefield. His pulse is so slow you’re not sure if it’s stopped or not. “Don’t you dare die on me.” This was bad. The worst you’ve ever seen. His body is so burnt and mutilated at this point he isn’t able to regenerate like a curse normally would. You try to infuse him with your cursed energy but it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s trying to shut down and you’re here telling it to work harder.

You can’t give up though. You’ve barely met the man in front of you but you know Yuji. As Shoko rushed Yuji off the battlefield his eyes had met yours. Choso’s name on his lips, his eyes a plea. “Please, Cho- tell him he’s the best big brother I could have asked for.”

The pain in Yuji’s eyes had been so raw. So visceral. Not even knowing what you were agreeing to you had yelled to Yuji, “I’ll do everything I can!”

So here you are. You aren’t sure if your reverse curse is even doing anything at this point. There are so many disconnected pieces of tissue. Blood vessels and veins so destroyed there is nothing left to repair. Nowhere for your technique to start. You can’t create something from nothing. He’s not breathing. Chest compressions. You’re throwing all the strength you have left into them. You vaguely remember someone saying you should push to the beat of “Staying Alive”. The song feels inappropriate in your head but it helps your timing. At least you hope it does.

The curse lying on the ground has given everything for his brother. Now you need him to live for himself. Grunting with exertion you manage to say, “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

When the corpse in front of you gasps you’re momentarily stunned. When are you supposed to stop chest compressions? Now? He’s hacking and you're trying to help him clear his airway. You're shocked he has an airway. Sukuna had practically obliterated him with flames. His lips are moving. You feel your cursed energy finally managed to find something inside of him it can work with.

Hands under his underarms, you pull. He’s not as heavy as you expected. Of course he isn't, he doesn't have anything left below the knees. You’ve managed to get his head resting on your thighs as you sit in the crumbling city turned battleground. He manages to croak out one word. “Yuji?” The word comes out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. He would ask about his brother when he’s the one who is holding on by a thread. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it we’ll get there!”

He’s giving this terrifying sounding cough that’s more liquid than air; but to cough means he has something there to cough with. His eyes open and his pupils are unfocused and blown. They don’t respond at all to light.

His brows are furrowing in panic when you don’t immediately respond, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

His lip somehow manages to curl into a hint of a smile. He must not be able to feel any pain due to all the adrenaline. He’s relaxing against you and his eyes are closing. “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and you’re yelling at yourself to hold it together. Tears fall from your visage on to his. You want to at least comfort him in his potential final moments.

Your hands go to rest on his cheeks. Your fingers lightly caressing him as you continue to give everything you have left in yourself to heal him. You brush his dark sweaty bangs off his forehead. His eyes open partially again staring into the sky. He’s rejecting your cursed energy again. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” You have to make an executive decision. You had been trying to give him the strength to kickstart his own regenerative capabilities but there’s not enough energy in him anymore to utilize it. You have to stop the bleeding. You have to sacrifice his legs below the knee if he’s going to survive. Rather than regrow the limbs like he normally would you focus purely on closing every open wound you can find. FUCK. Where is Shoko? Where is Arata Nitta? Someone? Anyone? There are too many wounded and dying. Not enough healers. Never enough healers.

A streak of platinum blonde hair in the distance catches your gaze, “Nitta! Nitta!” He was one of your underclassmen before you graduated. The Kyoto school is small enough to where everyone knows everyone. Nita’s looking for you in the rubble, unable to tell where your voice is coming from at first. “Arata!” His eyes lock on yours and he’s sprinting through the chaos. He looks like a track star the way he’s jumping building detritus like they’re hurdles.

He’s leaning over you trying to find where you are bleeding from but it’s all Choso’s blood. At least you think it is. “Can you help him?” Nitta’s face jerks down to what he had thought was a corpse in your arms.

He’s shaking his head no but he’s doing the movements for his technique. It won’t heal the curse hybrid but it will buy him time and at this point you’ll take anything you can get.

There’s a sharp tug in your gut as your cursed energy feels like it’s suddenly being siphoned out of you. You originally couldn’t find any of Choso’s energy to help him. Now large lifesaving gulps of your cursed energy flow into the man fighting for his life on your lap. You gasp in pain as you try to limit the amount of energy you are giving out at once. Choso’s not even conscious but instinctually his body is struggling like it’s drowning and you're the life preserver.

Nitta looks panicked, “He’s going to kill you!” You can’t afford to pass out now there are so many more people that need healing. Choso is unconsciously pulling you under with him. “This is a curse. It feeds off our kind. He’ll take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Shit. You feel like you’re going to faint. Choso’s eyelids are fluttering, they open as if seeing you for the first time. He’s clearly still delirious as his onyx eyes look at you confused. You visibly flinch, a groan in pain leaving you as he takes more of your energy. Understanding clicks in his brain and the rapid siphoning of your energy abruptly stops. Nitta is calling your name.

Nitta tries to pull you away from Choso so he can’t cling to your energy again, but you refuse to budge. You're not sure if Choso is even conscious despite his eyes jerkily roaming your face. Caressing Choso’s brow, you lean over him. Your lips are near his ear as you murmur comforting words. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Chapter 2

AN:

If people want more I’ll continue. It just flowed out so here it is. Please don’t comment if you don’t have anything nice to say.

[ju1cyfru1t]

HIII CAN I ASK IF UR GONNA DO A PART 2 OF UR RECENT DONATELLO FIC?? IT WAS SO GOOD AND I'D LOVEEE A FLUFFY ENDING 🙏

I wish you would (Rise! Donnie x Reader) pt.2

Pt.1

Donnie apologizes to reader.

fluff!:), comfort???, gn reader, hehehehehe Donnie has a crush on reader, platonic or romantic

I wish we could go back

And remember what we were fighting for

Wish you knew that

I miss you too much to be mad anymore

And I wish you were right here, right now

It's all good

I wish you would

“He did WHAT?!” April’s voice echoed off the walls of your bedroom in disbelief. You had called to tell her about you and Donnie’s fight. You just couldn’t understand why he was so mad at you when you just wanted to help him like he and his family would do for you. He even shouted at you. You knew it was late, and you were grateful that she picked up.

“Yeah.” You took a deep, shaky breath, “I don’t know what to do. He told me he wouldn’t talk to me until I ‘admitted I was wrong,’ but I don’t even know what he wants me to say. I didn’t do anything.”

————————————————————————

“Uggghhhh..” Donnie groaned, leaning his head against his cold desk.

“You shouldn’t have picked a fight with them in the first place, Dee.” Mikey sighed, patting his brother on the shell.

“Yeah, yeah.” Donnie grumbled, not even bothering to look up.

You were the one being reckless, right? So why does he feel like such a jerk? He was mad, and it stayed that way for a few hours after he got home but all that anger quickly turned into pure regret.

“Come on. We were all worried when Y/N just jumped into action like that, but you still hurt their feelings.” Mikey rolled his eyes at Donatello’s dismissive attitude, crossing his arms, “I think you need to apologize, ‘kay?”

Donnie sat upright to look at him, furrowing his (drawn on) eyebrows. Worried? About you? …To be honest, that felt right to him. Donnie hadn’t really pieced together what exactly made him snap at you like he did, but he did recognize the guilt he feels every time he replays your hurt, confused expression in his mind repeatedly. It was distracting him, and he was definitely not a fan.

Truthfully what was the most distracting was that deep down he really, really missed you. You hadn’t texted or called him since the argument and he was too anxious to reach out to you first. He knew he couldn’t act like nothing ever happened no matter how much he wanted to.

As much as he hated to admit it, Mikey was right. He does need to apologize; it’s just so hard.

“You know what? Give me just one second to change, bro. I think you need a lesson from…Dr.Feelings.” Mikey winked at Donnie, skipping out of his lab.

“No, not Dr.Feelings, I beg you! Anything but that!”

It was already too late for Donnie to get out of this one.

————————————————————————

“April, I appreciate it, but I’m not sure this is such a good idea.” You stood in the doorway of the lair and April grabbed your hand.

She laughed, “You’ll be fiiiiine. Just because you’re not talking to Donnie doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see your other friends. Besides, Mikey invited us over.”

“Well, he’s not talking to me, but you know-“

“Shhhhh!” April shushed you, pulling you into the turtles home, “Heeyyyy! Guys, we’re heeeere!”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh but let her drag you in.

“Hey! I’m so happy you’re here!” Mikey practically sprinted to greet you. Mikey and April shared a look, nodding at each other. Clearly they were up to something, and it made you nervous.

“Soooo…I was thinking we could just watch a movie? The six of us?” Mikey’s tone was off and he seemed too nervous. Not very good at lying, is he?

Oh. All six of you, meaning Donnie would be there. Whatever. It’s not a big deal, right? I mean, he lives there. Still you couldn’t help the nervous pit deep in your stomach (and also the burning of annoyance).

You guys moved to get settled in the living room and soon being joined by Raph and Leo…but where was Donnie? The pit grew.

There was a whisper between Mikey and Leo followed by Leo clearing his throat.

“Ahem. Y/N, would you be a dear and get us some popcorn?”

You looked at him confused (and also afraid), “I mean, I could…but why can’t one of you? You live here.”

Leo looked at Mikey and there was another shared whisper. He turned his attention back to you, “Because we want you to get it…it’s, uh, better when you make it?” Ok, now you were sure something was going on.

You sighed deeply, but begrudgingly stood up. “Alright, fine…but it’s just microwave popcorn…” You muttered the last part under your breath.

You made your way to the kitchen and began to search their cabinets for the popcorn.

“Y/N? Uh, what are you doing?” You jumped at the sudden voice behind you before letting out a breath of relief. It was just him.

“Donatello.” You didn’t even turn to glance at him as you opened the packet of popcorn and made your way over the microwave.

Donnie frowned and scoffed, “I don’t care for your tone.”

“Excuse me? I thought we weren’t speaking.” You side-eyed hard with a glare. A pang of guilt ran through his chest, his face heating up. The energy in the room was tight and full of tension and the silence was so loud and painful.

He walked over to the fridge and pulled out six sodas, placing them on the counter one by one. Dammit. You knew his brothers and April had set this up.

Donnie took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Hey…um, I just wanted to say…that, uh-“ he breathed out, “I’m sorry.”

You finally turned around to face him and leaned on the counter with the microwave buzzing beside you with a few pops every second, “I’m listening.”

“Look, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was just…concerned. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” A rare Donatello Hamato heartfelt moment; You knew he really meant it even with his soft scowl as he spoke.

You thought for a moment then smiled reassuringly, “Thank you for apologizing, Donnie. I forgive you, I guess…Hug?” You opened your arms out and reached for him.

Relief instantly washed over Donnie, he would finally be able to sleep tonight. You weren’t mad at him anymore, and he wasn’t mad at you.

“Yeah.” He nodded with a small grin, and loosely embraced you for a moment.

“But for real though, don’t ever yell at me again.”

“Yeah…of course, haha…”

[thevoidstaredback]

Dick: Remember everyone, violence is never the answer.

Danny: You're right, Dick.. Violence can't be the answer.

Dick: Correct, Danny. Now, on to the next lesso-

Danny: Violence is the question.

Danny: And the answer is yes!

Dick: Danny, no!!

Dick: All right, Danny, that’s it, you’re grounded! I found a rap album hiding under your bed and it was the clean version. I didn’t raise you to be such a nerd!

Danny: I’m not even your kid-

Dick: I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

Danny: Ok.

Dick: Wait, why such a muted reaction? Did that not sound cool?

Danny: Last night I found out Dick is a sleep talker.

Tim: Oh, really?

Danny: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

*Dick rushes by with an armful of water bottles*

Tim: What's going on?

Danny: Dick wouldn't drink water.

Tim: ...And?

Danny: And I asked him how fast he could chug an entire bottle.

Dick, loudly: 16 OUNCES IN TEN SECONDS, BITCHES!

Dick: Do you ever feel bugs on you when really there’s nothing there?

Danny: Those are the ghosts of the bugs you killed before.

Dick:

Dick: *sobs*

Tim: You fucking scared him, you idiot.

Dick: I hate to tell you this, but one of you was adopted.

Danny & Tim:

Danny: Only one...?

Danny: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Dick: Can either of you please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"?

Tim: Ya know... it might be.

*Danny and Tim are fighting*

Dick, taking aspirin: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?!

*Danny and Tim start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

Dick: Please bring home PURIFIED water with NO minerals added for taste

Danny: We got spring water

Dick: NO.

Danny: with EXTRA minerals

Danny: it's like licking a stalagmite

Dick: DON'T COME HOME.

Danny: Mmmmm cave water

Tim: Tell Danny about the birds and the bees.

Dick: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

Batman: Listen, I can explain...

Tim!Robin: You’re making $500,000 and you’re only gonna pay me $30,000?

Nightwing: You’re getting 30 grand? I’m getting $1,000!

Phantom: You guys are getting paid?

Bruce: *Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff* Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Tim: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Danny: I personally was created in a lab.

Dick: I just straight up spawned lol.

Dick: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?

Alfred: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.

Dick: Three of us saw it, Alfred. How do you explain that?

Alfred: *points at Tim* Sleep deprivation. *points at Bruce* Paranoia. *points at Danny* Delusional personality disorder.

Tim: Why is Dick so sad?

Danny: He took one of those “Which Hero Are You?” quizzes

Tim: And...?

Danny: He got Batman

Dick, banging on the door: Danny! Open up!

Danny: Well, it all started when I was a kid...

Tim: No, he meant-

Dick: Let him finish.

Tim: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Danny: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Tim: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING DICK WITH ME

Dick, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

Dick: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Tim: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Dick: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Danny: edible

Dick: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Bruce does? I mean, what if he jumped off a cliff?

Tim: If Bruce were to jump off a cliff, he would’ve done his due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Bruce jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff.

Dick: You jump off a cliff!

Tim: Gladly. Provided Bruce did first.

Danny: Why are you on the floor?

Tim: I'm depressed.

Tim: Also I was stabbed, can you get Alfred, please.

Dick: If you had to choose between Tim and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Danny: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Tim: Danny!

Dick: 63 cents.

Danny: I'll take the money.

Tim: Danny!!!

Danny: I'm incredibly fast at math.

Tim: Alright, what's 30x17?

Danny: 47

Tim: That's not even close.

Danny: But it was fast.

Danny: *Stubs his toe* FUCK!

Dick: Mind your language!

Danny: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”???

Dick:

Danny: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

Tim: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder?

Danny: Stop romanticizing the past.

Danny: Okay. I get it. You've had a really hard time lately, you're stressed out, seven people died-

Dick: Twelve, actually.

Danny: Not the point. Look, they're dead now and really whose fault is that?

Dick: Yours!

Danny: That's right: no one's.

Tim: I think I'm having a mid-life crisis.

Danny: You're like 15 years old

Tim: I MIGHT DIE AT 30!

Danny: I’d like to offer you moral support, but I have questionable morals.

Tim: Not trying to brag or anything, but I can wake up without an alarm clock now simply due to my crippling and overwhelming anxiety, so...

Dick: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?'

Dick: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

Danny: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird. But emotionally? Imagine the toll.

Tim: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Tim: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Danny, threatening the others with a paintball gun: Listen... Life comes at us fast. We don't know what life is gonna give us... And today, it's gonna give you... a paintball!

Dick: I was born for politics. I have great hair and I love lying.

Danny, pre death: If I'm really as evil as you say I am, then have the gods strike me down where I stand.

*dies*

Phantom: Ha! Nice try, jackass! Next time, give it your A-game!

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Tim*

Tim: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

Danny: Goodnight moon.

Danny: Goodnight tree.

Danny: Goodnight ghosts that only I can see.

Dick: People are always asking me if I'm a morning person or a night person.

Dick: And I'm just like, 'Buddy! I'm barely even a PERSON!'

Tim: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

[lix-ables]

🎀 𝐬𝐤𝐳 + 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 ... 🩰

— minors dni, 18+ content.

🧽 smut includes, perv thoughts, exhibitionism + voyeurism, use of mirror, sexting, slight pillow humping (sigh), bondage - use of ties/ribbons, gagging, dirty talk, edging, groping, lingerie kink, panty stealing, corruption kink, oral fixation, dacryphillia, mentions of f and m rec, marking, mentions of tempurature play - ice, etc ( happy reading lovelies ‹33 )

🫀note: this was fr so much fun to write though i reposted this like 3 times so far, but third times a charm ig. please show this one some love, reblog and leave feedback !! it's my baby and im proud of it fr 😩

masterlist | do not repost or translate | words : 3019. ©︎ lix-ables

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 ꒱… he'd watch you get into the car, his eyes looking you up and down when he saw what you wore - now for him, whatever you wore, he loved it. he thought you looked good in anything you wore. but today was so much more different - he couldn't hold it in. any other day, he'd think about it, and get himself off in the shower or in his room when you weren't home. but he had to tell you. now, he'd be polite but oh so teasing about it.

his free hand would rest on your thigh, while the other was placed on the steering wheel, his voice soft and low.

“wore this for you,” you tease back, pulling slightly at the hem of your skirt. “is that so?” chan smirks, his eyes focused on the road. how he wishes he was watching you right now, maybe stuff a finger or two to keep you from talking at all.

you'd laugh about it, trying to tease him more, before he mentions it and you tell him something was in his head for him to be this needy. “you think its funny,” he puts in, his eyes deadset on the road.but thats when he starts telling you about the thoughts he was having more recently than ever, and he can see you pressing your thighs together from the corner of his eyes. with his eyes on the road, and his mind filled with you, he'd guide you, instructing you more so, telling you things you'd want to hear, and things you have heard before - only thing is you're in the car with him. “fuck i bet its that pretty nude colour, hm? you know how pretty thats gonna look when i slide my dick between those tits of yours?”

“c-chan,” you whine, whispering for him to stop and focus. “oh i’m focused enough, baby. but i don’t think you are hmm?”

his words continue teasing you till the red light, and so now you'd have to be careful for him, there were other vehicles next to you, but chan didn't care about that. no one was watching you from how close he was. if he couldn't take matters into his own hands, he'd have to talk you through it. “take that off baby and be slow. one finger in. tease yourself for me, no one can see you - but they wish they could, hm?”

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 ꒱… with minho, it’s simple, and he knows it as well. he loves teasing you to the point that you’re frustrated with him, and he fucks the frustration out of you – with his fingers gripping at your waist as he fucked you from behind, not forgetting to leave marks and bruises to your back. with minho, its also all about fun. from the moment he found out that you get too worked up and annoyed at him when he sent you a dick pic, just once, he wanted to try it out again.

with his thoughts about how you’d feel, with either your fingers or your lips wrapped around his length, teasing him, making him pull you closer, he seats a chair in front of the mirror in your room, a long white ribbon in his hand, taking his shirt and his sweats off, placing them in front of him on the floor, before sitting down on the chair, the cool wooden material making him groan in pleasure. if only he had ice with him right now, he’d bring it in a glass surely, keeping it down on the ground next to him, before taking a piece, teasing the tip of his cock, letting the coolness of the object in his hand melt so that it dripped onto the floor. and he fucking wished you were there to watch him tease himself. he’d either make you sit across him, and make you watch him as he got off, or he’d have you on your knees, while you tried to top him.

“desperate to top me hm?” he’s whisper, when he thinks of you showing up with one of his ties, suggesting that he had them around his wrist while he fucked your mouth. “you know you can’t do that right? no matter how much you try?”

“shut up and let me try,” you mumble a reply, as you bring the cloth tie to bind his wrists. how he’d love to tease you about it, before he did the same to you.

<remember the time you wanted to top me?> he sends in a message, reaching for the ribbon that he had set aside, and clicking a picture to send it to you.

<remember how you said i’d look pretty with my hands tied? bought this to see how you’d tie me up :))>

and now all he had to do, was wait for you send in a reply, telling him how frustrated you were.

꒰ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧 ꒱… now, you grind your pillow, not knowing that he's there, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow, your buttoned up shirt off, revealing your tits.

the way he'd just almost let out a moan when he sees you ride that pillow, when he sees you grab a tit, teasing the nipple once, wishing it was his thigh instead, and wishing it was his fingers instead, flicking and licking that sensitive bud. that's when he has a thought - he needed to see you ride that pillow in front of him, while he was in the room. but that's also when he hears you call out his name, whining until it gets too much, your fingers curling into the material of the pillow case as you rode your high out.

all this, while changbin watches. all this, while he thinks about scenarios of his own, wishing it was him, instead of that inanimate thing under you and between your thighs because of course, he'd be able to get you off as well, much more than the pillow. he's confident of that much.

he'd also think about how when you both went shopping, and you pulled him into the dressing room with you, making him sit down as you changed in front of him. he was your friend, sure - more like a friend who comes over every other night to fuck your brains out, but at that moment, at the dressing room, he had only one thought - his fingers tangled in your hair, as you clamped a hand over your mouth from whining when he reached over to pull you close to him, bringing his dick out only to buck his hips into you, a small help from you making him continue the same movements over and over, until you rode him with your fingers digging into his shirt as his own fingers stuffed past your lips, your tongue twirling around his fingers while his other hand rubbed your clit. “fucking needy little thing, aren’t you, doll? always needing something to stuff you up full, hm?”

꒰ 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when you're in the car with him, hyunjin has thoughts about you, and it was more now than before, because you just happen to wear his favourite pair of lingerie – he knows this because he took a peek at what you were wearing when you got in, the wind exposing a little bit of your thighs and also the shirt you wore? exposed the top half of the lingerie.

now he didn't mean to look at it. he knew deep down it would be an issue for him, but it was hard for him to control the need to just pull you to him and let you ride his fingers.

“you look good today,” he mumbles as he places his hand on the steering wheel, pausing a minute to take a good look at you. fuck. he should not have done that. and he knew it was wrong for sure, but when he saw the lingerie, his mind just... wandered.

he remembered from the time how he whined at the sight of you on your knees for him, getting him off while his friends/roommates are just outside in the living room, his fingers way too tangled in your hair, pulling and tugging on it while you looked up at him, your eyes watching his every expression. he'd be embarrassed by the fact that he has thoughts about you, unlike chan who is polite about it, but he can't help it. he'd obviously let you tease him, even if it would be torture for him, he cares about you and how you'd feel.

꒰ 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 ꒱… when you mentioned buying a couple of cute things to try on for him, jisung’s mind was busy. busy with thoughts about how to bring up the topic of gagging – how he wants to see you under him, with either his shirt or your panties in your mouth, while he fucked you. he also wanted to bring up the topic of how he had at least four pairs of your lingerie lying in his room, which he jerked off to… until one day, you found it yourself.

“ji, what’s this?” you call out to him, and he looks up from his phone, paying attention to the flimsy object resting between your fingers – your panties. “uhm, about that… i wanted to uh, talk to you –” he fumbles with his words, shooting straight up, ready to walk towards you with an explanation at the tip of his tongue.

“nuh uh, sit back down,” you shake your head at him, walking to the couch where he sat, motioning for him to sit down. with your hands coming to a rest on his shoulder, and your legs on either side of his own, you straddle him, keeping in mind that your crotch came directly in contact with his own bulge, which seemed to grow harder under you, and you take this as an advantage to grind against it a little.

“tell me more,” you hum when he groans in a needy tone, his hands on either sides and on the couch, fingers aching to fidget with something, anything. “tell me what you do.” “fuck, uhm. i uh –” “– jerk off to them?” you finish for him, bringing the material in between the two of you, before grinding against him once again, which earned a hiss from the boy under you. “shit can you no –”

“show me.” you smile at jisung, hand him your panties, inching forward and leaning close to him at the same time, and he shuffles in his seat. “show me how you jerk off with it. i’m sure you have thoughts, about me, maybe?”

“i’m sorry i just –” “i want to see,” you push again, this time resting your fingers on his chest, caressing the material under your touch. “i want to help. please let me help.”

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 ꒱… felix has always thought about how you’d look with his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them. maybe even thought about your lips wrapped around the length of his dick, as he bucks his hips slowly, thrusting in and out to see your expression every time he pulled away. so when you came to him about your oral fixation, knowing absolutely almost to nothing about it, you could say he was pleased that you came to him, instead of someone else.

“what is it that you want to know, darling?” he whispers, his fingers tangled in yours as he seats you both on his couch, and he turns to face you. “i just keep wanting to have something, anything in my mouth, and i can’t help but feel –” you explain, only to stop when you see felix smiling at the words you chose. “what?” you mutter, clearly embarrassed now. “let me explain it to you in this way,” he starts, letting his hand rest under your jawline, tilting your chin to make you look at him. his thumb rests on your bottom lip, while the other fingers support your chin from under. “open, love,” he parts his lips, assuring you that he wouldn’t do anything without your permission. “it’s alright,” felix smiles, as he watches you part your lips for him, letting him slip his thumb inside, before he continues.

“suck. slowly, i’m not going anywhere,” he assures you again, his eyes watching you look at him, while his thumb was in your mouth, and he almost lets out a single groan when he feels your tongue twirl around it. “that’s it, there you go,” felix mutters, the smile on his face never leaving as he continues, “you, my darling, have the need to suck on something all the time don’t you? that’s okay,” he responds when you nod your head, while continuing to suck on his thumb. “i think there was a time when i used to bring people over, i’d either want to eat them out or mark them up, nice and pretty, all the time,” he recalls, his choice in words making your cheeks turn a shade of pink as you pull away from him.

“sorry,” you mumble, wiping your mouth of the drool before looking back at him. “that’s alright, love. i think i’d be able to help you with that fixation of yours, hm?” “it’s not going to change anything between us, right?” you question, hoping you’d still get to be friends with felix. “sure, baby. nothing’s going to change except me satisfying your oral fixation, or teaching you how to,” he smiles. but in his mind, he was thinking about how he would transition from having you suck on his fingers, to choking on his dick, but at your own pace. he wouldn’t want to corrupt you too much now, would he?

꒰ 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 ꒱… seungmin had been thinking all morning about how good you felt, with your lips wrapped around his cock, while a set of his fingers rested on your head, stroking your hair, tugging on it every now and then when he felt you were teasing him a bit too much; another set of fingers gripped your own, as you looked up at him, your eyes filled with tears. “shh, pup. fuck… right there,” he hummed, just when your tongue kitten licked the tip of his cock, before letting him buck his hips into your face, your throat making a sound out of pleasure when he did so.

“fuck,” he mutters, raking his hands through his already messy hair, his fingers slipping past the sweats he was wearing, wrapping firmly around his length before fishing it out right after he pulled the material down for better access. just the mere thought of you tearing up, while being on your knees for him and ready to have him past your lips had him groaning in pain. and just when he needed you, his mind would wander – thoughts about you, sometimes scenarios of your hands being tied behind your back with the tie he wore that day – the navy blue cotton material tight around your wrists, but not too tight to stop the circulation of blood – god, the image he had in his head made him lose control, even when he knew he shouldn’t. on other days, thoughts about him deep throating you when he felt the need to just cool off as he gamed with the boys, you’re on your knees, he imagines, not even out of your work clothes as you took him as deep as you could, your nails digging into his thighs as his hips bucked into your face, his cock making you choke and gag, before it had you drooling – a fantasy he needed to come true.

so that’s when he decides to text you – <when’re you getting here? i need to fuck that pretty throat of yours.>

꒰ 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 ꒱… when jeongin found out about his new found fetish for being tied, he came and knocked on your door, hoping you’d answer quickly. “i need you to help me,” he mumbles when you open the door for him and he makes himself at home on your couch. by now that couch was his favourite place - his second home, if you could say. “do you need me to get you off or…”

“it’s complicated,” jeongin sighs, as he pulls out his black tie from his sweats, and places them on the coffee table in front of you. “fuck, i want to try something, please?” he whines, the neediness in him being so obvious that you kneel down in front of him, holding the tie in your hand, and look up at him. “what do you want me to do, baby?” you nod, resting your hand on his thigh, while your other hand feels the material of the tie in between your fingers. “tie my wrists please? want you to tease me, but i don’t think i can stop myself from holding on to something, and i don’t want to hurt you,” he shuts his eyes, laying his hands in front of him, for you to take and tie them up.

which is what leads to the current situation – you on jeongin’s side, as he sits with his dick out in your hand, his shirt riding up to his chest, while his hands are tied behind his back.

“fuck, please don’t tease,” he whines out, his fingers curling an uncurling at the way your fingers stroked his length. “you were just telling me about how you weren’t being good,” you remind him, applying a little more pressure on your grip than before, which makes him exhale deeply. “shit, y/n… you k-know i can’t–” “talk? i do know that, but you need to tell me what you did,” you caress his bare thigh and look at the way he curled his toes. “you’re going to be sitting here all night, baby, and i’ll make sure you come at least thrice more before i let you go,” you remind him, your voice soft as you let him ride out his second orgasm. “so tell me, what thoughts have you had about me, hm?

taglist. @hwajin @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @comet-falls @hwan-g @svintsandghosts @idek-at-this-point-lol @es-kay-zee @writerracha @bbujiikseu @lethallyprotected @sstarryoong @tulips-stuff @guchiljeu @derinxfam

[leossmoonn]

hi! can I please request a fluff piece of Mike giving the reader a mixtape of songs he likes and thinks about them as a cute thoughtful gift? established relationship would be great :) thanks for writing, love reading your work!

thank you so much :D i feel like this is short but I hope you enjoy! (ps i curated a playlist for mike that i’ll list at the end of the fic! the songs are from the 70s, 80s and 90s based on his dad’s music taste but also the era he grew up in!!)

includes - switching between between memories and the present, mentions of verbal harassment. lowk kinda angsty but you’ll see why

————

“mike, just give it!” you groan. he sits next to you, fidgeting with the present in his hand. he twists the coils of the ribbon between his fingers.

“what if you don’t like it?” he asks. you give him a look. “i love it when you get me taco bell. of course i’ll love this. now give it to me, otherwise my assumption of you stalling because you forgot our anniversary will be become a fact.”

his eyes widen and he shakes his head furiously. “i would never forget an anniversary.”

you smile and pat his knee. “i know, which is also why i know this gift is going to be awesome!”

he sighs and slowly hands it to you. “happy one year.”

you smile in excitement, tearing the blue wrapping paper off. you gasp as you see a CD with a picture of you as the cover titled ‘how i feel about you.”

“oh, my god. mike.” you turn to him, pouncing on him and giving him a big hug. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. you can feel his heartbeat raging against his ribcage. you can feel how warm he is from anxiety.

“do you like it?” mike asks as you pull away. “i love it!” you grin from ear-to-ear. “no guy has ever done this for me. this… this must’ve taken a lot of work.”

he shrugs, “i’ve been thinking of these songs for a while. it was just a matter of burning them onto the CD.”

you sigh dreamily, attaching your lips to his in a slow and sweet kiss. “this is why you’re the guy of my dreams.”

he blushes heavily. “are you gonna see what’s on it? there’s a little list inside.”

you nod and open it, carefully taking the paper out. the first song on the list is “black star” by radiohead.

“that song is the song that was playing when i met you at the bar,” mike says.

you start to remember, your smile getting impossibly wider. you were a bartender around the time you met mike. it was a little bit past dinner time and mike had shown up with a woman, who you now know as vanessa. apparently, she was trying to get mike to flirt — or at least get himself out there. she had pointed out many women in the bar, but you caught his eye.

“can i get you two something to drink?” you asked. “i’ll have a martini,” vanessa said. she glanced at mike, awaiting his answer.

“uh, i’ll just take a beer,” mike said. honestly, you thought he had a staring problem at first. but turns out, he was just falling deeply in love with you.

“i can’t believe you remember that,” you awe. “of course i did. i love radiohead and you. it’s like the perfect combination,” he says.

“i’m not sure i like being associated with radiohead,” you giggle. you take a look at the other songs. one that sticks out to you is “baby can i hold you” by tracy chapman. you remember this song as the song you and mike danced to at your friend’s wedding, the one where he told you he loved you.

“may i have this dance?” mike stood up and held his hand out to you. you were taken aback. this was surely out of mike’s comfort zone. you’d been dating for six months then and you knew mike pretty well. you had just celebrated your six month anniversary where mike took you to this big fancy restaurant. you had insisted you didn’t need go to anyplace, but he also insisted that you deserved something special and he wanted to provide it to you. the whole time at the restaurant you knew he thought he was out of place and not good enough for it. so for him have asked you to dance was a surprise — good one, though.

“yes, you may, kind sir,” you smiled. you slipped your hand into his and he led you to the dance school. he put both hands on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you look beautiful tonight,” he said, gazing into your eyes. you smiled shyly. you were pretty outspoken, witty, charming, but also sometimes crude, person. but mike brought out a side of you that other people, and even you, experienced rarely. he made you feel bashful and special. you honestly loved it.

“you look handsome,” you said. “you make me look good,” he remarked. you rolled your eyes. “oh, whatever. i’ve seen two girls practically drool over you since we got here.”

he shrugged, “and every male here wants to take you home.” “well, i only want one man to take me home,” you smiled coyly.

mike smiled with you. you both swayed to the song as it ended. you were excited when the next song started to play.

“ugh, i love tracy chapman,” you gushed. “i love you,” mike said, not really thinking. you stoped dancing, jaw dropping at his words. it finally registered in his brain.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that. well, i did. but, i don’t have to. or, i guess you don’t have to say it back. you definitely don’t,” he rambled.

you stopped him with a kiss, smiling as you pull away. “i love you, too, mike.”

“i am so glad abby was gone that night,” you snicker. mike chuckles, “i’m sure we could’ve asked your friend if we could use her hotel room for a little bit.”

“and get it all messy before they mess it up? that would’ve been a good idea,” you say. you skim the list once more, surprised to see “songbird” by fleetwood mac.

“isn’t this the song we drove home to after we fought?” you ask. “yep,” mike nods.

that night, you and mike had your first bad fight. it wasn’t your very first one, but it was the worst by far.

mike was picking you up from work and when he walked in, he saw a guy harassing you at the bar. you were obviously handling it: ignoring the guy and having your co-workers stand up for you. but something in mike just snapped. you two were a pretty new couple. you’d only been going out for two months at that point. while you had already stayed countless nights at his place, were practically bffs with abby, and shared your deepest darkest secrets, there were other aspects of the relationship that you two were still navigating. so it didn’t help that when mike heard the guy call you a bitch, he punched the guy.

in the moment, you thought it was a justified act. in fact, you still thought so. but you were mad that mike didn’t let you handle it. you were mad that mike seemed to always lose his temper. you were mad that mike didn’t see you as independent.

you both were outside in the parking when the fight started.

“you need to go to an anger management class or something,” you muttered.

“that guy needs to go to how-to-not-be-a-creepy-asshole class,” mike said.

you sighed loudly and crossed your arms. mike scoffed and glanced at you. “do you not agree with me?”

“of course i do, mike! but you can’t just walk into my place of work and assault someone.”

“he was harassing you and probably was going to hurt you!”

“no, he wasn’t.”

“and how do you know that?”

“because niki had just called security and there were other customers in the bar helping me out.”

mike huffed, “i didn’t know she had called security.”

“if you had just minded your own business then you would have.”

mike balled his hands into a fist and then relaxed them. “you don’t need to act so tough, you know?”

you turned your head slowly at him. “excuse me?”

“i know you’re independent and you take care of yourself. i like that about you a lot. it’s one of my favorite qualities about you. but you have to learn how to accept help from other people, especially in situations like that. you have no idea how those situations can just flip within seconds.”

“that’s really rich coming from you.”

“what the hell does that mean?”

“you never accept help.”

“yes, i do.”

“no, no you don’t. you don’t accept help from the baggers at the grocery store. you don’t accept help from abby or me when cleaning or cooking. you didn’t even accept help when my friend’s husband offered to fix your sink, you said no. and he was offering it to you for free, might i add.”

“i can do all those things myself.”

“i know you can, but it’s also okay to have an extra set of hands.”

“if i’m so bad at accepting help, why can’t you accept my help?”

“you think breaking someone’s nose is helping me?” you scoffed. “you are such an idiot mike.” you grabbed the car keys out of his hand, unlocking the car and sliding into the passengers seat. mike groaned and sighed, joining you for what he thought was going to be the worst car ride of his life. the drive was expected to be pretty short, but with just your luck, traffic was terrible. while it was only 9 pm, there was an accident on the highway, making both sitting ducks.

mike sighed and glanced at you. you had a permanent glare on your face it seemed. your arms were still crossed and you looked out the window to avoid any and all eye contact with him.

guilt seeped into him. he knew what he did was wrong. well, he still didn’t think he was wrong, he just knew it wasn’t the right choice. he should have asked the guy to leave and to just take you home. he should have waited for security to grab him, to make sure the guy wouldn’t follow you home. all he wanted it to protect you. he did the same with abby. maybe not in a violent way, but he thought he was his life mission to protect the ones he loved. he wanted to do better than with you two than he did with garrett.

and you knew that. you knew all about garret and freddy’s. the animatronic business seemed crazy to you and you didn’t quite understand that part, but you tried to be as supportive, understanding, and sympathetic as you could as you’ve never experienced what he has. you just wish it didn’t get the best of him sometime.

mike turned on the radio. you scoffed, not believing that he’s turned on music. he turned on a classic hits radio. “keeping on loving you” by reo speedwagon was about to end, “songbird” trailing right after it.

“this is a good song,” mike remarked. you hummed in reply with something that sounded like a “yes”. mike stayed silent for a couple of seconds. he knew if you were to talk again, he would have to apologize first.

“i’m sorry i got out of control. i was just trying to protect you. that guy was being an asshole and you’ve hurt you. i guess i just wanted to hurt him before he could get to you,” he said. “but i know it’s not right and i know you have support at the bar. i just get scared with you working there with all those weirdos. i know you’re a grown adult adult, though, and you can handle yourself.”

you slowly turned to him, eyes softening upon seeing him. “it’s…” you sighed quietly, straightening up in your seat to face him completely. “it’s okay, mike. i know you were trying to protect me. i really appreciate it, i do. i love when you’re there for me. i just… he could’ve hurt you, too. and you could’ve gone to jail, too, if he decided to press charges. honestly, i just don’t want to be the reason that happens.”

mike shook his head. “you could never be. i would’ve happily gone to jail if it meant i helped you and made sure you were safe.”

you grinned teasingly. “you would happily go to jail?” he smiled with you. “anything for you.”

you laughed and shook your head, placing a hand on his thigh. “i forgive you. and i’m sorry about all the things i said about you not accepting help.”

“it’s true. i’m sorry about everything i said and did.”

“it’s alright,” you said. traffic began to move just then. both of you pumped your fists in the air and cheered. “god, finally!” you exclaimed.

“your place or mine?” mike asked. “what do you think?” you smiled.

“this is a great song, but why’d you choose it? it has to bring up some bad memories, right?” you ask.

“it did at first,” mike admits. “but, we made up. and we were able to settle arguments faster and better after that. also, the song lyrics are just how i feel about you. ‘to you, i’ll give the world. to you, i’ll never be cold. cause i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright. i know it’s right’,” he cites.

you feel like your heart will explode from love. you hug him once more, holding him too you so tight he’s afraid he won’t be able to breathe. but he doesn’t mind. you pull away slightly, looking into his eyes.

“i love you so much, mike. you are hands down the best person that’s ever walked into my life.”

he smiles and leans in and kisses you softly. he pulls away to catch his breath, taking your free hand into his. “i love you more.”

mike’s mixtape for you

black star - radiohead

girl from mars - ash

sunday morning - maroon 5

your song - elton john

baby can I hold you - tracy chapman

something - the beatles

faithfully - journey

songbird - fleetwood mac

iris - goo goo dolls

everlong - foo fighters

————

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